Morning Monday, May 20th, 2024
After making and having breakfast with her family, as her children and husband made their way out the front door, Lyrou leaned over her kitchen counter and texted Joseph via their social media, the same platform that he had spied her photos on over the years. She expected to baffle at first, and she was direct in telling him, “I know you’ve always had a fondness for me.”
She thought to herself how Monsieur Joey must be at his jobsite by now, starting his busy workweek, when he finds her text land out of nowhere. She visualized him tool-belting whatever wire-strippers or insulated screwdriver he must’ve been holding to check his phone. He must think it’s his “ma.” What will he think to see its’ Lyrou of all people. She watched Joseph’s typing status start-stop-start-stop several times. She sighed. “Je vais faire simple,” she said to herself. Before he could send a response, Lyrou typed again to him, “Garin will be away on business this Saturday,” and, “This will be the one and only time I’ll offer myself to you.” Fearlessly, she promised him, “Garin will never know.”
What followed was a storm of paragraphs from Joseph: indignation, “Are you nuts?” and “Is this a prank?” and then threats that he’d tell Garin about her message if she didn’t tell him first, “You better tell him you sent me this shit.” And “What the fuck, Lyrou. He needs to be told today you sent me this crazy crap!” then a reduced threat that he’d tell Garin about her message if she sent another, “One more and I tell him about this.” then a sympathetic message wishing she’d figure out her marriage problems with Garin, “I’ve always prayed at church you and Garin would make it work together.” and finally a watery, squishy line about, “If we do meet it’ll be platonic and when I know you and Garin are in your best days.”
Joey went on like this for almost an hour before his texts drizzled off into dry silence. Lyrou didn’t respond; she’d let him sit with the seed she planted, knowing it was a quick-growing vine that would soon have him wrapped up, foundation to roof.
⚜
Afternoon Monday, May 20th, 2024
Reine picked up Lyrou at her home to bring her along, with her toddler, whorls of strawberry-blonde Elena, to the pediatrician. It was a white mini-SUV with a yellow and black bumper sticker: “Baby sleeping onboard, you honk me I bonk thee,” with a woman stick-figure wielding a baseball bat. On the drive, Reine spoke at length about herself, her job as a special needs teacher, how blessed everything small really is, and the probability of being born a human.
With Elena secured and cooing in the baby seat behind her, Reine explained, “There are 8 billion people in the world, but there are billions more animals and bugs. Then there are probably 100 or 200 billion people who’ve ever lived. And if you count every human, animal, and bug that has ever lived, it’s probably into the trillions. Just think, every little crawling ocean creature and whatever else back to the beginning of life…”
Lyrou looked at her side-eyed. “You’re teaching your special needs students this?”
Reine nodded. “Yes, but with visual aids that show the scale. It’s not creationism. It’s about how we’re lucky to be born at all, to be a human being living right now, and how special we all are.”
Lyrou nodded, paying attention to the road. “Are you getting them high when you teach them this?”
Reine laughed. “They kind of come pre-stoned.”
Lyrou tapped the steering wheel. “This is making more sense. My tata once told me I was his one sperm that ever made something of itself. He called me one-in-a-trillion because that’s how many a man makes in his lifetime.”
Reine winced. “That’s not something a dad should say to his daughter, maybe a tata. But objectively speaking, he was right.”
At the pediatrician, Lyrou sat with Reine and her baby in the waiting lounge. A couple of toddlers played in the middle of the floor with a plastic mini-playset. Elena slept in Reine’s arms.
“I remember more crying,” Lyrou noted, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Reine.
Reine whispered, “My doggies cry at the vet.”
Another woman waiting in the lounge said, “Mine too. Oh boy.” Reine smiled back, giving little nods of dog-owner sisterhood.
The nurse popped in the door to call her back. “Elena?”
Lyrou stayed seated, but Reine tapped her knee for her to come with her. “I need you.”
Lyrou obliged, and in the examination room, they met a Dr. Pushpakumara. She proceeded to speak to the baby, now waking, as if she could answer. “You have a sick tummy?”
Reine answered, “She eats very well, but then she pukes it out.”
The doctor took the baby and placed her on the scale. “She’s not losing weight due to it. How often does she vomit, how many times per day?”
Reine knew. “It’s once every other day. Isn’t that too often?”
Placing her stethoscope over the baby’s chest and back, the doctor asked, “You can’t link it to anything you’re feeding her, or maybe a time you’re feeding her?”
Reine put her hands up, responding to the doctor’s inquiry a touch more defensively than anybody but a self-doubting mother might. “It doesn’t seem to, but I’m ready to swap everything out for other brands…”
The doctor checked the baby’s ears and then up her nose and down her throat. “This is a healthy child. It’s a common reaction to overeating. You might simply reduce the portions per meal by a little. If the vomiting increases in frequency or accompanies more symptoms like fever or weight loss, then please return.”
Lyrou took Elena onto her lap and gave her a little bounce. “You’re a rolly molly tolly holly bolly baby. Guili guili guili guili…”
Leaving the pediatrician’s clinic, Reine sighed. “Was I good?”
Lyrou laid Elena into the baby seat and secured the straps. “Good? Why?”
Reine settled into the passenger seat as Lyrou came around to the driver’s side. “Yes. I didn’t mess it up?”
Lyrou started the engine. “How would you mess up a visit to a baby doctor?”
Reine nodded but looked serious, and pulling out of the parking garage, Lyrou wised up. “You were a magnificent mother in there.”
Reine perked up. “I didn’t get a prescription.”
Lyrou slapped the steering wheel. “There’s nothing to prescribe for.”
Reine objected. “I didn’t clarify that. I should have asked for something in case she gets worse over the weekend.”
Lyrou thought how to defuse Reine’s doubts. “There is a reason you didn’t ask that. Your Elena is in the 88th percentile for weight. And you know you feed her like a trash compactor. And you know it’s never first resort to medicate your baby; you do that when there’s no other option.”
Reine listened. “Yeah?”
Lyrou nodded emphatically as she drove. “Ma douce amie, you know les effets secondaires are worse than what they cure, and you don’t want your lovely baby doped up when it’s all a small matter of meal portions. You were a thoughtful and diligent mother today.”
Reine frowned, but with happiness. “Thank you, Lyrou.”
⚜
Evening Monday, May 20th, 2024
Garin sat with Lyrou in a cinema. He whispered to her as the multitudinous, noisy trailers before the murder mystery comedy movie played. The others in the theater were entertained and engulfed by first looks at remakes and sequels Garin was exasperated by.
“How many more Japanese giant lizards can they give us?” he asked.
Lyrou smiled. “You’re the only person in this country who doesn’t love the Japanese giant lizard.”
Garin sighed. “In ’merica, we used to make our own city-wrecking monsters right here.”
Lyrou squeezed his knee. “Globalism impacts us all. Don’t tell anybody this, but they drink California wine in Paris.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Garin shook his head.
They scoffed together at the opening to the next trailer.
“Another one? Another one.”
“Actually, Penny wants to see this one. Next time?” Lyrou noted, pointing at the screen, a computer-animated kids’ movie.
Garin nodded. “Yes, it’s something she’d be into.”
“Me too, look at the fluffy cat character… so cute!” Lyrou gushed.
Her hand still on his knee, Garin’s hand slid over hers, his fingertip pressing on her wedding ring. “Did I succeed in making you jealous? I really hope I did.”
A mischievous, pouting smile crossed her face. “Mon amour, I now know I never had that true, true jealousy you spoke of until seeing you with her. It was something else. It was like watching you live out a moment stolen from another, alternate you who had never met me, a man who had kept his original woman and was maybe better for it. It did cut me.”
“You mean… did it work? Were you… alarmed at how close I am with her, how deep our history is, the connection we have?” Garin emphasized the present tense.
“You’re killing me now to talk this way. Obviously, yes. I can never be your first love. I can never be the one you wanted when your heart was still pure and fresh, the one you remember so longingly. I can only ever be the one who came later, all the while the memory of her, and the knowledge she was still out there, that it was still possible, however unlikely, for you two to reconflux.” Lyrou looked away and into her lap.
Garin offered only a small reprieve. “It isn’t far off the mark to say so. Tell me what made you most afraid.”
The theater’s dim light cast shadows on her composite features. “Afraid? Chéri, I felt… fear. It’s watching you with a piece of your past, a part of you that I’ll never fully have. In not having, there is not knowing, and there is terror in not knowing.”
“Au contraire, dear woman, the real terror is in knowing, and it’s all worse than you’d feared.” Garin adjusted in his seat, disabusing himself of an idea. “I’ll never provoke the awful kind of jealousy in you that I feel for you. Maybe it isn’t in your personality. How do you say it… such is life…?”
With a hint of amusement in her voice, she said, “C’est la vie, mon amour,” her hand finding his on the armrest. “But don’t think a bell has sounded. You’ve not yet seen what I can do when I’m… inspired.”
Garin sat straight. “What could you mean by that?”
“Chéri, perhaps,” she murmured low, only for him to hear over the cartoon soundtrack of yet another trailer, “…your efforts have moved me to try harder. As you strive to impress and shock me, I will you too.”
“Then Lyrou… it’s your turn. What do you have in store for me next?” Garin was up for it, whatever it was.
A seductive smile. “Ah, Garin,” her hand sliding into his, “you’re happy to be surprised, aren’t you?”
“Where will you lead us?” Garin whispered into Lyrou’s ear as the opening credits flashed.
A wicked glint shone through. “Patience, husband. But I promise you, it’ll be a shameful scandal you don’t tell a soul about. As you said, the real terror is in knowing, and it’s all worse than you’d feared, effectivement.”
Garin spoke with a bit of worry. “Give me one clue.”
A fire burned in her chest. “Someone who’s been watching me.”
“Watching you?” Garin was perplexed.
“Someone who’s been around longer than you might think. Someone who’s seen us through the years and waited hungrily. Someone who has wished for us to break so that he could have me.”
Garin couldn’t begin to populate a name. “Enough… tell me who.”
The corners of her mouth lifted in a knowing smile. “Patience, ma vie. Let the anticipation build.”
She feigned that she didn’t want to talk anymore, that her eyes were fixed on the opening scene of the movie. “Enough for now…”
Garin squeezed her wrist. “No, no… tell me who… I’ll wonder endlessly.”
Her gaze still on the movie, her lips let fall so softly and nonchalantly. “Someone you never worried about but should have, chéri, someone who’s always been… interested in me.”
Garin sat silent a moment, thinking, his eyebrows scrunched together. “No. Do you mean…?”
A knowing smile. “Oui, chéri,” her hand rolled over, palm up, intertwined with his. “Someone you thought was your friend.”
Garin thought of his longtime friend. “You’re going to try to take Joseph? Hey…”
“Not turning her eyes from the big screen, a playful smirk. “The very same.”
“He’s my friend,” Garin said, almost forbidding it.
“Oh? Your friend? Oui, he is isn’t he?” Lyrou made a pouting face at Garin. “With your permit, my liege.”
“You think you can entice him to forget his pal? We’re almost like brothers, he and I,” Garin warned.
Lyrou slowly and heavily nodded, her hair falling over one eye. “He’s visited my social media page and viewed my pictures countless times.”
“What? What pictures?” Garin asked.
“My bikini pics… and any shot of me in a low-cut top,” Lyrou answered. Garin thought she spoke as though such male attention was the point of posting those pictures in the first place.
“Really? How do you know?” Garin wanted to disbelieve.
“There is a tracker I downloaded. He’s not the only ‘friend’ you have who has browsed my racier photos. But Joseph has made it an ingrained habit. From time to time he must be up alone at 2 a.m., getting me out of his mind the way men do… until I’m back on his mind again, and then again.” Lyrou rested her chin in her palm.
Garin shook his head skeptically. “He’s kept from crossing any line. If he knew you’d tracked him like that, he’d turn red and implode with embarrassment.”
“Mon roi, it’s just a game we play. Remember our rules; everything is shared, everything is consented.” She patted his hand on the armrest.
“You’re sure… you’ll ensnare Joseph?” Garin swallowed, the surround sound of the theater masking anything they said.
Lyrou nodded, her face rubbing Garin’s shoulder as he sat facing the cinema screen. “But if you don’t want it, then it mustn’t be. Let’s watch the film, I’m losing the plot.”
Garin quieted, but squirmed in his seat totally consumed by the prospect. He turned to her, spoke into her ear, “I need time to think about this one. This one is different from the others.”
Lyrou smirked and nodded, the movie lighting her face in flickers of color, “I thought we liked different. Non?”
Garin bit his fingertip, then reasserted, “No, Lyrou. I need time to think about this. I don’t know if this is alright with me.”
Lyrou sighed, pointing to the movie, “Let’s watch the show.”
⚜
Evening Thursday, May 23rd, 2024
Joey walked from the dock in his chief electrician overalls and belt to the parking lot to jump in his work van and get his sore, lumbering ass home for some couch and chill. Was that Garin’s car parked next to his? A hand popped out the window and waved.
Joseph walked up to the window, and in the second before Garin spoke he recalled with a chill the utterly insane text from Lyrou. Was he here about that?!
“Gare… what’s happening?”
Garin smiled, but there was some sadness in his eyes. He laid into Joey with the ball-busting. “You look like one of those self-propelled walkers the nerds would make when I lived in Bro-ston to prove machines can into bipedal locomotion.”
Joey smiled. “Only for them to trip over literally nothing and bust their chips out falling into shit. Beep-boop, bitch.”
Garin movie-lined him, waving his hand in Joey’s face like a hypnotist. “You are not the droid I’m looking for.”
Joseph put both hands on Garin’s car door windowsill like he were the local sheriff about to tell the outsider to stay out of town. “My bot-gineer should power my ass down and scrap me for parts.”
Garin threw his thumb over his shoulder. “Get in, Wop-E, I got you a Reuben to recharge.”
Joey came around, tossed his electrician’s belt into his van before slapping it shut and locking it, then folded himself down into Garin’s passenger-side seat, grabbing the aluminum-foil-wrapped sandwich off the dash and peeling it open. “Got a drink?”
Garin backed out. “Cupholder. That’s yours.”
Joey had the sense, as he sipped and chewed, that he was getting picked up by his dad for a talking-to. But this was Garin, his bud, and he’d take his disappointed dad over a disappointed Garin any fuuuuucking day. Back then his dad could be very angry, but Garin now wouldn’t be. He would be something else, something Garin.
“Where you kidnapping me to?”
Garin smiled, driving. “Slumber party. I got a change of clothes in the trunk, and it’s an easier drive from your place to my work anyway. I’ll drop you off at the docks on the way. Is that cool?”
Joey chuckled. “Not a problem… but… did the wifey kick you out?”
Garin tapped his steering wheel. “My brother in Christ, I pay them bills. And I should be the one kicking her out.”
Joey expected Garin would bring up that filthy text. He braced himself; he hadn’t done anything wrong, and he had good reason not to tattle on her. If she lied, he could show what was sent letter-for-letter.
“Kick her out? She pissed you off, then.”
Garin didn’t hear Joey bring up the text first, and Garin surely wouldn’t. So his reason for getting out of the house went thus: “Yeaaaaah. You know what she wants? You won’t believe it.”
Joey hadn’t noticed, but he’d only taken two bites of his fat sandwich and they were already halfway to his place. “What, man?”
Garin burst with an incredulous laugh. “A. Big. Ger. House.” He shook his head like a dog shaking the water off its coat. “There’s always a greener pasture.”
The two of them had beers at Joey’s place. They watched college football highlights, a 90s character comedy with the Canadian and Jewish late-night skit actors, talked Russian rifles, talked about Vladimir Putin’s Cossack walk, talked about Shinzo Abe and the makeshift gun that took his life, talked about Garin’s belated mother, talked about Joey taking up jogging with tips from the expert himself, talked about some other good crap before Joseph fell asleep. Garin tried to wake him up off the couch but got waved away. “You take the bed, Gare.”
⚜
Evening Friday, May 24th, 2024
Garin found Lyrou in the laundry room and joined her in folding and hanging the warm contents of the dryer. Garin had sat thinking for several hours each day since she proposed it.
“Lyrou, honey, I don’t want you to do anything with Joey.” He said flatly.
She continued folding laundry, “I see.” And she stayed silent, biting her lip in thought.
Garin grew flustered, “If I should object outright, after you’ve come along so far, it would be like crying mid-game and taking my ball home. And if Joseph’s is such a friendship as I’ve boasted, then you would only verify that in diving for him and coming up empty-handed.”
Lyrou nodded, “But still, you won’t allow it? That’s interesting.”
Garin tapped his hand on the dryer, thinking, then said, “What if I were to try to fuck your friend Reine?”
Lyrou shrugged turning toe-to-toe with Garin and setting the laundry aside for a moment, “Reine would have to betray me and her Philip to fall for you. Joey only needs to betray you.”
“Joey would feel he’s betrayed the Lord in Heaven.” Garin said, gesturing at the above.
Lyrou fearlessly offered up a shot at her friend for a shot at his friend, “Will you try? Reine? If so you have my permission and…”
Garin shaking his head, “I’m not attracted to Reine. Why Joey, though? Are you attracted to him?”
Lyrou rolled her eyes, “He’s unconventionally hot, I think.”
Garin was taken-aback, despite everything, that his wife could admit so readily to finding his best friend hot in any form, “You think so? Oh, okay.”
Lyrou turned back to the laundry, “I won’t text Joey again.”
“Then two rules for Joseph,” he said intently.
Lyrou perked up, a towel tucked under her chin as she rolled it up her chest. “Hmm? Two rules? And what would those be, chéri?” she asked, her voice unbothered.
“If he bites, then only once. Only once with him. Once. Swear it,” Garin insisted.
“Only once? But chéri, what if I want more?” she asked, her voice high and mischievous.
“It’s my condition. Will you respect it? Once. Yes?” Garin drew his line.
“Very well, mon maître. But know that once the door is open, it’s hard to predict where our desires may lead us.” Lyrou didn’t seem to fully accept this rule.
“Lyrou… say it. Promise only once with Joseph. Or I can’t go along with it. Promise.” Garin wanted her word.
With amusement but understanding, she said, “I promise, I do, chéri. Only once with him. We’re explorers, and our hearts are bound by trust.”
“For abiding my limits, I’ll also abide your limits. Mutual respect. Final. But another thing, the second rule… not a limit but a request.” Garin verbally jotted the clauses down.
Lyrou’s curiosity piqued. “What is it, chéri?” She reached down into the washing machine to feed wet, wadded clothes into the dryer.
“If he really does it, and I doubt he will, then let him think I have no idea,” Garin said quickly.
Kneeing the dryer door shut she replied, “He’ll believe it was all behind your back. As you wish, mon cœur. I’ll make it a day he won’t forget, the day he forgot his… pal,” she said with a faux American accent and started the dryer with a turn of the knob.
⚜
Morning Saturday, May 25th, 2024
Garin took Alan and Penny for amateur archery, and once he’d signed a disclosure, paid, and entered the indoor range, he set to guiding Penny while Alan stuck close.
“Who is the most famous archer of all time?” Garin held the bow and guided Penny’s hands onto it.
Alan answered as he fumbled about with his bow. “That South Korean guy, Oojin! Grand-mère will see him in Paris!”
Garin chuckled. “He’s impressive, he’ll take more gold medals. But if one asks of all time, and if they mean of all time, the answer must be Amor.”
“Amor?” Penny repeated.
Alan explained to her, “It means love in French.”
Penny swiveled around, dangling her bow, her ponytail flicking across her face. “I knew that!”
Garin added, “Yes, and before French, in Latin. It’s the name of the Roman god of love, also known as Cupid.”
Penny squinted, pulling on her bowstring. “Cupid, like Valentine’s Day?”
Garin nodded, preparing an arrow for her. “Careful, Penny. Let me help you on your first few shots. Yes, like Valentine’s Day.”
Alan, having done this before, took a shot on his own, landing it in the outermost ring of his target. “Crud cake,” he griped. “Cupid shoots people with his arrows on Valentine’s Day.”
Penny’s eyes went wide. “He shoots them?!”
Garin reminded her, steadying her hands on her bow. “Focus, Pen. He shoots them to make them fall in love, not to murder them like a naked flying psychopath.”
Alan almost took his next shot but stopped to giggle. “That would be death metal, not going to lie.”
Finally, Garin had Penny in perfect posture and position to shoot. “Let it loose, honey.”
Penny’s arrow flew, far away but also far off mark. “I did it!” she was pleased nonetheless.
Garin folded his arms, standing back watching the kids shoot. “Amor was sent to Psyche, who was a mortal woman, by his mother to make her fall in love with a hideous creature. She was envious that men found Psyche so beautiful. But when Amor first saw Psyche, he fell in love with her. And she loved him too, even though he would not take off his mask and hood whether she asked or demanded. He visited her many nights, up on a hilltop meadow, by a river, in the wheat fields, in an abandoned barn, and wherever they could be alone together. She had many rules for him: not to follow his mother’s command against her, not to frighten her or her animals, not to speak harshly, and more. He had one rule for her, that she not ask him to remove his mask and hood until he was ready to. She agreed, but the women in her life—family and false friends—had grown so seethingly envious of her. They gossiped that it was no fine-looking god she met, but some kind of monster. That made her wonder if under his mask and hood he was indeed a repulsive mutant, if he had followed his mother’s command after all. Why else would he wear it? When they were together next, she couldn’t resist the urge. Lying together, she pretended to cradle his head in her lap and kiss him, but she yanked off his mask and hood, and then she saw his face.”
Penny stood balancing the bow on her wrists. “Was he a freakie freakie freakoid?”
Garin smirked. “No, no, no. He had the most handsome face she’d ever seen, comelier than a male fashion model prancing down a runway. She thought she was in love with him before, but upon seeing his eyes, his lips, his hair, and all, she was obsessed with him.”
Alan said cockily, firing another arrow, “Amor was the OG giga chud rizzler with a thousand-year mew streak.”
Garin continued, helping Penny fire off another wild stray. “But Amor, he was angry. He said that he didn’t want her to see his face for exactly that reason. He wanted to have her true love, won with his words and deeds and bared inner self, before winning the lesser love of her eyes. He told her that she’d spoiled their romance, that he’d never know if he could win her genuine, unbiased love. He flew away, ignoring her pleas, however much it hurt him to say goodbye to her.”
Penny turned, facing her dad. “What did she do?”
Garin sighed. “From that point the story always differs depending on the source. Some say he put her through a bunch of crazy tests to prove she could obey him no matter what he asked. Others say he never came back and she just got old and died clinging to her memory of him.”
Alan sputtered, firing off another arrow, this one landing more center-wise. “Rejected! Amor was the first MGTOW.”
Penny stood slumped, sapped of her fun mood. “That’s so sad.”
Alan fired again, adding, “It’s not sad. The moral of the story is don’t be tripping or the bro be dipping.”
Garin shook his head. Penny looked up. “Then what’s the moral of the story?”
Garin took Penny’s bow and arrow to take a shot, showing her carefully how to aim. “The moral is follow the rules you agreed to.”
Penny and Alan watched their father closely.
“Fingers here, elbow here, eye there…” Garin shot.
Alan cried out with admiration. “Bullseye! Woah!”
⚜
Morning Saturday, May 25th, 2024
After torturously battling with his guilt and his lust for days, Joseph received one last private message from Lyrou. “It’s Saturday morning, Garin is gone. My kids are at friends’ and sports. Will you come over by lunchtime, yes or no?” She sent with it a first-person picture of her in her bedroom mirror wearing only her panties and white-cream slip.
Joseph texted her, “What’s this?”
“Evocatively yours,” her response flew back with a sonic crack.
“I’m sending this to Garin. Sorry, but I have to,” Joseph replied.
“Sorry, but you don’t have to. Send yourself to me like you want to,” Lyrou called his bluff.
Texting her back, “I think Garin might know about this.”
She replied, “He doesn’t. He won’t. You worry too much, it’s cowardly.”
Like a macaque hypnotized by a python he stared wide-eyed into his phone at her messages, “Aren’t you worried?”
“It’s just sex, Joey. You’ve wondered about me, and I’ve wondered about you. Jesus isn’t going to hit you with a lightening bolt. Garin isn’t going to smell me on you. Come over.”
Unable to believe what was happening, but coming to accept that it was, Joseph’s lust overcame him, and in fifty-eight minutes he was at Lyrou’s front door. Standing outside, “I don’t know what to say to you.” He was dressed the best casual he could muster and smelled of cologne he never wore. She stood in a bathrobe and wordlessly allowed him inside. Joseph’s heart thudded in his chest; he’d never seen Lyrou so seductive. She led him up the stairs, her ass flexing in his face with each step.
In her bedroom she turned, and her eyes locked with Joseph’s, her voice low, “Here you are, and here I am. Isn’t that unbelievable?”
Joey’s heart bounced about in his chest and up into his throat like a frightened frog, “You’re all alone here? This big dream house all to yourself?”
She nodded, “Chéri, are you ready to make all your dreams come true?”
He swallowed, his eyes finding Lyrou’s desire and disbelief. “What in the absolute fuck is going on? I… I don’t know what to say,” he stammered, his gaze dropping to her robe, imagining what lay beneath.
Her eyes lasered through Joseph’s. She thought how his robust frame housed such a flimsy persona. “Then let your actions speak for you,” she said, standing to let the robe fall away, revealing her form in the same panties and white-cream slip she’d sent him photos of. “You’ve dreamt of this for so long. Now’s your chance.”
Garin had always felt Joseph was such a funny guy, a relief from his own seriousness in college and then in work. He’d counted on Joseph for so long to just make him let go of his worries and laugh. Would Joseph really touch his wife now? Was Joseph capable of that? Joseph remained stiff, looking Lyrou’s body up and down, frozen between his guilt to Garin and his raging urge to touch Lyrou, at least to touch once, this woman he’d coveted for so long. And then he did something so unexpected. He clenched his eyes shut, lowered his head, went onto his knees, and began to pray quietly.
Her eyes froze Joseph in place. She stepped closer to him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “Chéri? I’ve never caused a man to go down in prayer before.” She took his hand, guiding it to her body, her skin warm and soft under his touch. “Let go of self-control,” she urged, her breathing growing heavier. “Embrace this moment with me.” She leaned in. “Garin will not know. You’re not the first man I have played with while he was away.”
Joseph took Lyrou’s hand in his and sat on the floor, looking up at her in a childish way, but with such a look on his face, shame. “Sit on the floor with me… a moment.” Lyrou sat near-naked beside Joseph, legs folded.
“I want to. You really do capture my lust. I’m sure most men feel that way when they see you, hear you speak, watch you move. And it doesn’t surprise me that you cheat on him. I warned Garin once, when you two were first dating, that you’re… you’re the type, and he ignored my warning, and I didn’t warn him again. I want to do this, but I wouldn’t be able to look Garin in the eyes again. Do you understand?” Joey explained, putting the blame for and price of this meeting on Garin.
A blend of surprise and understanding entered Lyrou’s voice. “Oh, Joseph,” she took his hand in hers, her thumb stroking the back of it tenderly. “You’re a teddy bear.” And when Joseph looked away for a second, she leaned in quick and stole a quick kiss on the corner of his lips.
Joseph reacted to Lyrou’s kiss by standing like a soldier. “Thank you, Lyrou, for that. I won’t say anything to Garin about this. I’ll go home now and I’ll do my best.”
Disappointment crossed her face. “Merci, mon ami, we’re all just humans with human desires. Our friendship is strong enough to handle this.” She stood, her body on display, and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps we can find another way to… fulfill our needs, without crossing that line.”
Lyrou was like a cat clawing back a mouse as it tried to peel away. Joseph’s feet glued themselves to the floor; he could not go, needing to know what other way she could possibly mean.
“Another way?”
A knowing smile. “Oui, mon ami, we can share much without the act itself. Tell me your fantasies, and perhaps I can share mine. We can’t live them out, but only in our minds, only up here.” With her finger, she gave her temple a soft two-tap.
Lyrou lay on her bed, exposed to Joseph, spread her legs, and began to rub her clit through her panties, throwing her head back.
“No touching. Only tell me what you imagined when you looked at my picture and… pleasured yourself.”
Joseph was made into jelly by the sight of her like this, and by that she’d called him out for masturbating to her pictures. How could she know?
“Lyrou… my… damn.”
Joseph, against his best judgment, watched Lyrou twist and splay herself across the bed. “Since our double-date trip with Garin and my ex to Myrtle Beach… since I saw you there in your bikini… your giant ass pouring out of it… your wet body in the sun. It drove me mad.”
Joseph’s bulge began to grow in his shorts.
A seductive sparkle entered Lyrou’s eyes. “Ah, Myrtle Beach,” her hand moving in slow circles around her clit. “The sun, the sand, the sea… and what was that? My ass?” She rolled onto her belly, her prominent butt buns wide, tall, and centered. She arched her back, resting her chin in her hands, elbows on the edge of the mattress. Her eyes were a silent invitation for him to join her there on the comforter. “Tell me more, ma vie,” she whispered, her other hand reaching out to him, her fingers tracing the air as if longing to touch his growing arousal. “…and show me how you pleasure yourself when looking at my pictures.”
Joseph lowered his shorts. His erection stood pointing at her, and he began to stroke while watching her watch him. “I wanted to pull your bikini laces undone… and…”
Joseph’s excitement built too fast, and he struggled not to come so soon.
“And what, chéri?” she urged, her own pleasure rising. “Tell me what you wanted to do to me on that beach.”
Lyrou deftly sat up, her feet finding the floor like a gymnast’s landing. She approached Joseph, knelt before him, baring her cleavage. Letting her slip drop only enough to reveal her nipples, she presented herself for him.
“Did you want to see my tits like this?”
His hand moved faster. “Yes, yes,” he groaned. “I wanted to see you like this.”
“Tell me, chéri, do you remember that day at the beach clearly enough?” She leaned closer to Joseph, her breath hot on his skin. “How badly did you want me?”
“I couldn’t stop looking at you. I was certain Garin would see me gawking at you… but I couldn’t help it.”
Joseph became overwhelmed with the sight of Lyrou topless at his feet, looking up at him. He couldn’t hold back his orgasm and ejaculated onto her breasts as she pressed them up and forward to receive his squirting, dripping loads.
“Shit! Aaaaahh… ah.”
With satisfaction and mischief, she cooed, “Merci, mon ami.” She took a finger and traced the sticky trail on her skin. “Now, let’s clean up.” She stood gracefully. “This was just a foretaste of our shared secrets.”
As she walked to the bathroom, her hips swayed, leaving him with the image of her bare backside, the tapestry of her beauty etched into his mind forever.
“I’ll fuck you proper eventually, Joey… you’ll cave in for me,” she spoke in the empty space of her bathroom, her voice echoing out into the room where Joseph refastened his belt and zipped himself back up.
She threw on her bathrobe and set to see Joseph out.
Standing as if he were a prisoner caught by the guard tower outside the barbed-wire fence, he said, “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“But you did come here,” Lyrou laughed. “You did come here. Right here. Just now.”
“What am I going to do?” Joseph asked, as if the devil would tell him how many rosary beads it would require.
“I’ll show you that you must capitulate before you conquer, sans casus belli,” she told him as they descended the stairs.
Before going out the door, he turned and, with the most dreadful face, opened his mouth as if to say something, only to turn and go, saying nothing. Lyrou watched him drive away. She gave him a little wave and a grin.
⚜
