At six-thirty in the morning, still tucked under her blankets, Ginny answered her phone. “Hello. Merril? Is that you?”
“Ginny? Sorry to call so early. I need you to come right over. It’s Aaron. I might as well die,” said Merril, Ginny’s best friend.
Ginny bolted upright, sheets slipping down to her waist. “What is it? Come over now?” A sudden urgency threaded her voice.
“I’ll tell you when you get here. Now. Could you come now as soon as possible?” Merril’s voice quivered. Her eyes flicked to the empty side of the bed, a gaping void where Aaron used to be.
“But now? Merril, it’s early.” A pang of annoyance struck Ginny. How easy it was for others to forget that her mornings were her sanctuary–a hot shower and a leisurely breakfast, untouchable until now.
“Ginny? I need your help. Is it me? Aaron, my husband,” Merril stammered. Ginny hung up, a knot of worry settling in. Something had fractured Merril’s usually unflappable demeanor.
“Okay,” Ginny said. “I’ll dress and come as quickly as I can.”
Waiting in her kitchen, Merril glanced nervously through the windows. She couldn’t shake the feeling that age was rushing at her, like a looming wave she couldn’t outrun.
Ginny, a shy housewife from the backroads of a rural county, often found her sanctuary at the local Eagles lodge, sharing drinks and gossip with Merril. Those afternoons had become their ritual, a touchstone in a life that had quieted down since her kids left home. But today was different. Today’s call shattered that routine.
Across town, Merril paced her kitchen floor, no longer tied to the afternoon shifts at a twenty-four-hour restaurant since her daughter’s California wedding. The question hung heavy in the air: Why had Merril broken the unspoken pact of their daily rhythm?
The door swung open, and Ginny stepped in, her gaze sharp as a razor. Merril pulled her into a tight hug at the side entrance. “Ginny, you’re a lifesaver for showing up.”
Ginny eased out of the hug, her eyes narrowing as she took in Merril’s frazzled state. “Given the god-awful hour, I should be a saint.”
Ginny looked around, tilting her head to the right and looking up. “Where is he?”
“He’s gone to work.” Merril sighed, her face etched with lines of stress. “Would you believe me if I said my life depended on it?”
“So spill, what’s the emergency?” Ginny crossed her arms, her tone icy but tinged with concern. “For you to drag me out of bed this early, it better be life or death. Or both.”
“Yesterday, I laid on our bed with my lube and my toys. I pulled my pussy lips apart… but my fantasies didn’t work. After five minutes, still dry, not into it; I got up, dressed, and that’s when I came down to the lodge to meet with you.”
“Ah Merril,” Ginny sighed.
“But being down there, I got even hotter. So I went home hot. When Aaron got home I was on fire, dripping wet, my clit swollen, just ready for some fucking.”
“So?” Ginny asked.
“Last night, Aaron just fell asleep on me,” Merril blurted out, her hands fluttering like caged birds.
“What, like he rolled over on you while sleeping?” Ginny shot back, skepticism wrinkling her brow.
Merril shook her head. “No, right there in the middle of our sex, he nodded off, with his dick shrinking in me. Fell asleep.”
Ginny paused, her fingers scratching her scalp, her shoulders drooping. “Damn, that’s cold. What led up to this?”
“Left you at the Eagles, tipsy as ever. Made coffee when I got home. Then Aaron walks in, sits down–looking like a mess. Forehead shining like a lighthouse.” Merril’s hands shot up, tracing the chaos in her mind.
“Was he ticked about the Eagles?” Ginny asked, her hand drifting down her skirt.
“He didn’t say. Just stared at me and then dropped that his boss wants him in Atlanta for a Federal Corrections meeting.” Her voice turned wistful, hands gesturing aimlessly.
Ginny shifted in her seat, restless. “And you’re not buying it?”
“He says he’s covering for his boss, who’s tied up in LA. But, Ginny, his voice, his eyes–they told a different story.”
Ginny’s lips thinned to a near-invisible line. “You don’t trust him. What were you hoping for?”
Merril sighed. “I don’t care about Atlanta. What kills me is waiting for him, the loneliness eating at me all day.”
Ginny’s eyes softened. “Oh, Merril. That’s tough. Merril, I can give you the love you need.”
“It’s time, Ginny. I want to try your help. You’re right.”
“What were you wearing? Were you hot-looking?” Ginny asked.
“I’d bought a new negligee, some half-stocking nylons, and it seemed to get him aroused. He took everything off me. I was so wet. I was rubbing my swollen clit and groaning for a cock, but before I could suck him, he spread my legs and got on top, and started fucking me, and then he slowed down and stopped. At first, I didn’t know why, then I realized he’d fallen asleep.”
Ginny paused, her fingers tracing circles on her palm. “Merril, it doesn’t have to be this way.”
“What else can I think?” Merril’s voice trembled.
Ginny glanced around before locking eyes with Merril. “Listen, my husband funds my gambling and drinking. You know why? We haven’t shared a bed in years.” The confession hung heavy in the air.
“No sex?”
“We have sex, or he gets a soft hard-on and maybe twice or three times a year,” Ginny said. “But it always comes after a fight.”
Merril’s eyes widened. “How do you cope with that?”
“You mean the loneliness? The guilt makes him generous. Got my new TV, my iPhone–all after our worst fights. Been this way for over fifteen years.”
Merril’s jaw dropped. “And you just live with this?”
Ginny nodded. “It’s my secret to bear. That’s why I started fooling around with Tina. But you, Merril, I’d go to the ends of the earth for you.”
“Oh, how sweet. I’m going to try,” Merril said.
Ginny looked at Merril and after a long pause said, “I drink and fantasize and go home. Three years ago, I found Tina, your next-door neighbor. One day talking at the Eagles lodge–we’d had far too much to drink–she confessed to me she’d been abandoned by her husband too. So now we play once a month, but there is only a physical connection for us.”
“Now with you, it’s different. I am connected to you, Merril,” Ginny said. “If we played, it’d be different.”
Merril looked into Ginny’s eyes with affection and said with joy in her voice,
“Ah, Ginny, we’re going to be different. For now, the only sex life I have is my hand and internet porn. Ginny, we’re too young to be like this,” Merril added.
Rising from her stool, Ginny picked up her coffee cup. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning. Take a nice shower, put on your robe. I’ll show you something that could change everything.”
Merril felt a jolt of electricity at the promise. “Ten a.m. working for you?
“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”
