|I LOVE YOU TOO (standard:drama, 4057 words)|
|Author: anonymous||Added: Jun 14 2007||Views/Reads: 1603/942||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Two couples, quandaries, and one man's lust for his wife's sister.|
I LOVE YOU TOO by Bobby Zaman I'm awake feigning sleep. I was sleepy earlier. When I tried to fall asleep, sleep went away. Cerene finished the movie by herself. She thought I'd be awake when she came to bed. She's not happy that I'm not awake. She undresses with ease and grace, soundless. If I open my eyes I'll see her glowing like white marble in the light of a full moon that's hanging in the window above our bed. She has very fair skin, but nowhere near the pale she accuses it of being. She reaches over me to remove a corner of the comforter. Then I feel the rest of her body press against the mattress. We make love every night. I can't remember a night that we've been together since getting together that we didn't make love. Alright, maybe a few here and there, but comparatively we have an amazing, sustained physical relationship. Cerene loves sex. I love sex. We haven't had sex in over a week. I haven't wanted to. I'm feigning sleep because I don't want to make love tonight either. I've shifted positions a few times. My right arm brushed against her. Her skin is soft and warm. I feel cruel sending her false indications that I'm awake. I'm not doing it on purpose. We're in bed, touching happens. To make my fake sleep sound authentic I'm taking deep breaths, inhales and exhales long and resonant. It's making me lightheaded. We're facing away from each other so it's safe for me to open my eyes for a moment and let equilibrium regain control in my brain. I'm awake feigning sleep. Next to my newlywed wife of one month, partner of less than a year. It's not that I'm not thinking of sex. I'm thinking of it with other women. A couple of co-workers. I'm thinking of Cerene's sister Marcine. Tomorrow we're spending the day with Marcine and her husband Paul. Paul is in the Marines and recently returned from a fourth deployment in Iraq. I like Paul. He's good-natured, humble Midwestern stock. He's suspicious of everyone and everything the first time round and I find this comforting. Paul is not a “yes-man.” Marcine teaches English at a high school fifteen minutes away from their home. It's a suburban school and can afford to pay her handsomely. The first three weeks of summer vacation every year she travels overseas. Last year Cerene went with her to Nepal and Singapore. Cerene and Marcine are big on saying I love you. Every visit, every phone call, every e-mail is signed off with multiple mutual I love you-s. In that spirit Marcine has said I love you to me scores of times. She even punctuated once during a tongue-in-cheek phone conversation, “I love you Adam, I love you, but in a completely different way.” Then we laughed together and she passed the phone to my wife who is also entertained by the charade. I get out of bed to go to the bathroom. I'm aware that this compromises the legitimacy of my act. I silently curse my bladder. I know Cerene will wonder why, when I'm awake enough to answer the call of nature, I'm unable to find a second wind for sex. She's thinking I'm upset or mad at her for something. I climb back into bed. I really do want to fall asleep. After some time, I do. Marcine and Paul live in a suburb near the airport. They bought the house at foreclosure which they're paying for with Paul's military bonuses and GI Bill, and Marcine's salary. They're doing well. It's a very nice house, and they got it for a steal. As we're walking up to the front door Cerene asks if I'm doing alright. I say yes. It's a terrific day on this fifth day of October. Weather Click here to read the rest of this story (444 more lines)
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