sHe waited until right before the morning service began and then he locked himself into a stall in the men’s room. He needed privacy, and this was about as good as he was going to get. Even so, there were still two or three stragglers, washing their hands and talking amongst each other. Small talk, as it were, but it distracted Billy from his task at hand.
“Hell of a golf game yesterday morning, don’t you think, Dan?”, said a man with a burly voice.
“You’re damn right it was, Chet, “replied the man referred to as Dan. “I never thought Frank Orbeth had it in him to swing a club so motherfuckin’ hard.”
“That guy will surprise you. He’s a hard man, no doubt. But it would appear that some of the gals in the church Ladies Society find such a quality endearing.”
“And just how, pray tell, would you know about all that?” said Dan, pulling a couple of paper towels out of the dispenser.
“My wife can’t keep a secret from me,” replied Chet. “Oh, she can keep a secret all right. She knows better than to gossip about the stuff we do together, but she’ll tell me anything she finds out before I can ask her to.”
“Is that so?”
“Sure is. For instance, we’ve been seeing a sex therapist for 2 years now, and this doctor’s idea of therapy is a weekend on a ranch with 15 other couples who share the same issues that we do. She’s never said a word about it to anyone. We all get naked and sit around a fire at night. Everyone shares their issues with each other. And then the husbands share their wives”
“Oh, really? That sounds like some awesome holistic treatment, brother.”
“You better believe it is, my friend,” Chet said, trying to dry a small wet spot on his trousers where a drop of water had fallen from his hand. “My Marie says she thinks we should maybe do it two days a week instead of just the once. There’s this well-built feller there who she’s got it bad for. The guy is hung like a horse, I tell you. I feel like all I’ve got is a Vienna sausage when I’m near that guy. Marie says he’s got the knack, that he really knows how to put it to a girl. I don’t think he knows anything in particular. In fact, I think he’s a lousy lover. But all it takes is one gander at that gargantuan schlong of his and ¾ of the work is already done.”
“Wow, that’s interesting,” Dan said. “Now I wish I was married so I could get some of that action.”
“It might just be worth it, Dan. It might just be worth it, indeed. And you know what else?”
“I don’t know nuthin’, partner. Your secret is safe with me.”
“But there IS something else you might want to know. That Bloom gal…you know, the one with the fabulous tits she likes to show off with those low-cut blouses?”
“Of course I know her. She’s been attending this church longer than I have. She’s that Sunday School teacher’s wife, isn’t she?”
“You know her well, I presume?”
“Apparently not as well as I thought I did, if you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say.”
“It’s true!”, Chet said, “Oh, dear God, it is true! I could tell you a great deal about all the marital issues that she has with Greg. But how boring is that? I’d rather tell you how she winds up with me at least twice a month. How she is a powerhouse when it comes to a good old fashioned screw. I really want to tell you how she slaps the fuck out of guys who try to mount her missionary style. She likes it wild. I’d bet that Greg is wild, too, but in a gentle way. Lisa is sick of gentle, at least when it comes to rolling in the hay.”
Dan was incredulous. He threw the paper towel into the basket and picked up his bible, lingering only long enough to catch Chet’s last words before leaving. “I never would have thought of Lisa Bloom as such a slut.”
The expression on Chet’s face betrayed a righteous anger at these words. “Don’t you EVER call her a ‘slut’. Not now, not EVER, do you understand, you well-heeled spoiled bastard?”
“Sure, Chet, sure…I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I just…no, that’s not what I mean to say, I…well…when I think of wild women who despise the missionary position the first thing that comes to my head is, ‘She must be a real slut.” Dan was backpedaling how, and he knew it. “But you gotta understand…’slut’ has never been a bad thing in my book. Never. In fact, ‘slut’ is a high compliment, as I see it. I can’t tolerate a whore, because she’s only in it for the money. It’s just a way for her to make a livin’. But a SLUT, on the other hand…now there’s a woman who knows what she likes and ain’t afraid to get out there and TAKE it. I respect that. If I get married, I assure you I will marry a slut. A slut who knows she’s a slut. A slut who is proud to be a slut. A slut who would be like a wild tornado blowing through one of your therapeutic wife-swapping sessions. A slut who would burn her sexual prowess into the brains of every man lucky enough to have her. I guarantee you that each and every one of those men would never forget her. They will find themselves lying on their death beds with dreams of her free spirited ways. The only thing they won’t remember is her name.”
The mean look of Chet’s face softened somewhat. “I’m sorry, Dan, old boy,” he said. “I don’t know why I’m so defensive about Lisa Bloom anyway. Maybe I’ve grown too close to her as a result of Greg’s generosity. I should probably play the field a little more. I mean, there are lots of hot women at these things…almost as many good-lookin’ gals as there are beasts…I need to test out some of the other merchandise.”
“There you go. Problem solved, eh?”
“I suppose, but this is between you and me, you got it. You’d better be able to keep a secret as good as my old lady does, or I sweat to Almighty God I will have your legs broken. You got that?”
“I got it, Chet. I’ll keep your secret”.
Having completed their toilette they checked themselves out in the mirror one last time, then sauntered into the sanctuary.
Neither one of them had heard the slap of fist on flesh that pounded with astonishing speed in the locked stall on the far end. There was no way they could have known that the easy banter between them was adding fuel to a fire of desire that coursed through Billy Newman’s body as he sat, hunched over, perched atop a dirty toilet stool. They would have been amused at the look on his face when Chet spoke of Lisa’s “swinging lifestyle” and Dan called her a slut. He could not fathom her as such an uninhibited, sex-charged dynamo. It crossed his mind that he could have become privy to this forbidden knowledge, had she not rejected him so heartlessly a couple of weeks before. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, and it intruded upon the mental imagery of her exposing her ample breasts to a bunch of dirty, smelly, beer-swilling hooligans. It was a fine fantasy, and it was doing the job just fine until those guys upped the ante.
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