Waking Up

Lisa woke up at thirty-one.

The first tick was subtle—just a simple misclick of the mouse.  Mark had said they should celebrate their tenth anniversary by going on a retreat in the mountains.  Lisa had googled ‘retreat’ and ‘Colorado’ and clicked on the first listing.  It was a social club.  After skimming the first few pages, she got a sense of sophistication and panache; she could see the martinis and well-coiffed members.  Lisa clicked another page and then froze.  It was one of those clubs.

Swingers.

Lisa hastily backed up to the Google page and clicked the next link down.  Twenty minutes later she’d reserved a room at a suitable bed and breakfast.

Impetuously, she wore her short lacy purple nightgown to bed that evening.  Mark’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.  Instead, he rolled toward her and began with a gentle kiss.  After the requisite five minutes, she spread her legs and he moved on top.  He lasted longer than usual, enough for his first spurts and frenzied twitches to trigger her own.  Hers was a small orgasm, but Mark still glowed with smug satisfaction.  He spooned her as they drifted off to sleep.

The second tick jarred.

As her thoughts separated from dreams of missing final exams long past, they coagulated around a noise and gave it a name.  Sirens.  Not too distant but now fading away.  Lisa was physically awake.  Mark slumbered on.  The return to the nightmare held no attraction, so Lisa slipped from the covers and padded down the hall.

Restless, the flicker of the screen saver drew her to the computer.  She surfed at random until memories of the day’s earlier discovery rose from her hind brain.  Why did such a sinful activity have such a classy façade?  Her curiosity tugged at her.  Mark was still asleep—where was the harm?  With cat-like stealth, she repeated her path to the swingers site.

She devoured every page, found some links, and followed them.  Further links brought her to discussion boards and forums.  She plunged in, reading posts both titillating and mundane.

Yawns eventually overcame her racing mind.  She slid back into bed next to Mark, to sleep as long as she was able.

She next remembered the site during church.  As they sang “Onward Christian Soldiers,” she reflected on how normal the forum posters had seemed.  They’d had the same cares and concerns for their families and friends as any others she knew.  They shared similar in-jokes and special connections as she found elsewhere.  Where exactly was the sin in the swingers’ desires?  

The next few ticks came fast and quiet.

With Mark’s business trip lasting the entire following week, Lisa had time to play and an internet playground at her fingertips. She quickly realized that swinging held no real temptation for her.  She wanted Mark and only Mark in her bed.  It was the thought of sex purely . . . purely for sex.  For fun.  Not because it was making love but for the sheer unadulterated pleasure of it.

Maybe she could have that.

She practically dragged Mark to the floor as he walked in the door upon his return.  As it was, she left him gasping for breath and explanations.  He’d come quickly, but she hadn’t relented, using her hands to arouse him for another round in which she found her own release.  Only her own afterglow gave him the pause to speak.

“What’s gotten into you, Lisa?”

“You didn’t like?”

“Oh, I liked--”

“So we can do it again?” she asked, lightly stroking his chest.

“Er, uh . . .” Mark rolled away and muttered something about needing the bathroom.  Lisa curled on her side, satisfied.  She felt naughty.  Caressing her own breast, she followed the memory of Mark’s touch.  She felt no sin.

She seduced him twice more in subsequent weeks.  Each time, his shocked surprise yielded to her ministrations.  He curled up on his own side of the bed afterward.

She  continued to surf when Mark wasn’t around.  She only lurked, fascinated with the voyeuristic thrill.

Until one day when she was click click clicking and didn’t hear him come home.  She realized he was in the doorway too late to claim she was just working on plans for their retreat.  Mark didn’t say anything.  He just slipped away.

She found him sitting on the edge of their bed in the dark.  She sat next to him and reached for his hand.  He recoiled.

“Am I not enough for you, Lisa?  Don’t I satisfy you in bed?”

“Oh, Mark, I enjoy making love with you!”

“Then why the porn?”

“It’s not all porn.  It’s . . .”  She didn’t really know how to describe what she was finding.

“I married you because you were a good church-going girl,” Mark said.  “I saw you in white at our wedding and I saw you as the mother of our children.”

“I did wear white at our wedding,” Lisa commented.  “Pure and untouched.”

Mark nodded and stood up.  He paused in the doorway.

“Pure then, but what now?”

Lisa remained in the shadows, unsure what to say.

They maintained an uneasy truce through the weekend.  Mark hogged the computer and Lisa cleaned house.  As she washed dishes, she dreamed of seeing the passion in his eyes again.

Sunday morning she woke uncommonly early.  She lay silently, listening to Mark breathe.  When it became clear she wouldn’t be able to return to sleep, she slid out and went for tea.

She wandered back to the computer, wondering if she dared touch the keys.  Setting the tea down, she bumped the mouse and the screen flashed bright.  Mark hadn’t logged off when he’d come to bed.

He also hadn’t cleared his browser’s history file.

Lisa was waiting when he stumbled into the kitchen for coffee.

“Hypocrite,” she said, her voice flat with fury.  He snapped awake, staring at her.

“You were checking out the same sites,” she spat.

“I wanted to see what you were looking at!”

“You spent a long time looking!  You must have liked it.”

Mark looked away.  He refused to look back.

“We need to get ready for church,” he mumbled, before turning and leaving.  Lisa was too stunned to say anything.

The next tick occurred during the Prayer of Confession.  She elbowed Mark just after the preacher had said that they all were sinners, in need of forgiveness.  Mark didn’t look up from his clasped hands, but he stiffened.  He finally talked when they got home.

“I’m sorry, Lisa.  I did enjoy it.  I do enjoy it.  But . . . but . . . it’s not right.”

“Why?  Why is it not right?”

“Because . . .” Mark trailed off.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Lisa said.  “Not between husband and wife.  And you like it when I let myself go sexually.  When we let ourselves go!  You know there’s no sin and you like it!”

“But where does it end?  What will it take to satisfy you?  Orgies?  Gangbangs?  Swinging???”

Lisa fell silent.  Mark looked aghast, then stormed out of the room.  Lisa let out a deep sigh.  The ticking of the clock on the mantle filled the silence.

Slowly, she got to her feet and followed him.  He was sitting in the dark again.

“What do you want, Mark?” she asked quietly.  “I love you and you know it.  You enjoyed the wild sex.  So what do you want?”

 “I don’t want to be married to a slut!”

“I’m not a slut with other people.  I’m not going to be.  But why can’t I be your slut, in our bedroom?”

Mark didn’t answer.  He just stared at the floor.  She watched him as minutes moved by.  Finally he spoke, still not looking up.

“I married you because I thought we’d make a great life together.  I married you because I thought you were a good woman.  That you’d be a good mother to our children someday.  Instead, you’re fantasizing about orgies and swingers.”

“I’m not fantasizing about orgies and swingers.  I only fantasize about you.”

Mark still hadn’t looked up.  Lisa slipped back to the kitchen and sat by herself.

She played the memories of their marriage through her mind.  They’d been happy, but she’d always felt something missing.  She hadn’t wanted to be burdened with a baby as a result, despite Mark’s pushes.  He wanted the bride in white and the mother for his children.  She’d resisted.  Why?

Mark came down for dinner.  They didn’t talk much.  At least not about anything important.  As if nothing was askew.

In the middle of the night, Lisa woke up.

It was the final tick.  She knew.  The only question was whether Mark would agree.

Lisa slowly pulled the bedcovers down.  Mark stirred and rolled onto his back.  That made it easier.  She paused to pull her nightgown off and then slid down the bed.  Lisa lightly placed her hand on Mark’s thigh.  He slept on.  She freed his soft cock from his pajamas.  Then she leaned over and gently kissed the tip.  Growing bolder, she opened her mouth and slid his cock all the way in.

As she licked and sucked, Mark slowly hardened.  She wasn’t quite sure when exactly he awoke, but she knew he was conscious long before his hands came down to caress her hair.  She began to bob her head in earnest, hoping enthusiasm would make up for her lack of experience.

Mark let out a gargled cry just before his cock twitched and the first spurt hit the back of her throat.  Surprised, Lisa pulled back.  Mark’s second spurt hit her cheek and the third splattered her breasts.  She looked down and chuckled at the sight of white goo across her skin.

She heard Mark chuckle too.  He was glowing and wide-eyed.  He also wasn’t going soft.  With a little effort, Lisa worked his pajama bottoms off and then straddled him.  Mark was still hard as she impaled herself.  She smeared his semen around her breasts as she raised and lowered her body.  Mark reached down and held her hips.  She gave him her best wanton stare and began to meet his hard thrusts stroke for stroke.  The rest of the world beyond his cock, his eyes, and the sensations in her body faded away.  Then the pleasure exploded and time stopped.

After, as they lay side by side, cuddling and regaining their breath, Lisa spoke.

 “For our retreat weekend, we’re leaving our home behind.  We’re leaving our families and our responsibilities and our church.  It’s just us for three days.  So I want to leave our inhibitions and the moral judgments behind too.  I want us to be free of the baggage of our regular lives and  leave everything behind.”

Mark looked wary and gave an ambiguous nod.  Lisa took a deep breath and continued.

“And when I say leave everything, I also mean we leave the birth control behind.”

Mark met her eyes, surprised.  Lisa slowly and deliberately nodded her head.  Mark looked relieved for the first time in weeks.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“It’s not one or the other.  I can be a mom and a wanton woman for my husband.”

He nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

The weekend was a blur.  They only left the room for meals and once for lube.  When it ended, they departed early enough to make the late church service.  At Mark’s insistence, Lisa had cleaned the semen from her hair, cheeks, breasts, and ass.  With guilty pleasure, she hadn’t douched.  The thought of Mark’s seed inside made her giggle.  She’d been off the pill for a few weeks and that thought felt fine.

They held hands during the hymn, singing “Glory, Glory, Glory” loudly and with gusto.   Mark couldn’t stop smiling, and neither could Lisa.  At Mark’s insistence, they’d already scheduled their next retreat.  She was already counting the minutes.

-fin-