Chapter 9

At home, my beloved was especially tender with her husband that day. Oh, Yuri, beware a woman’s sudden tenderness. It is the tenderness of a boa constrictor creeping closer, pitying its victim in advance...

Omar grunted, groaned, complained. Poisoned the atmosphere of the house with his presence. He often made the simplest household tasks look like torture. So, for the most part, the couple did everything for him.

... Will you play a small part? You’re very good at conveying Yuri’s feelings...

You have brought your wife a flower.

“Oh! What’s the occasion?” she asks, flattered, accepting the gift.

“I just remembered...” you say, “how, when we first got together, I said I was looking for a girl who would agree to be with me once and for all. Do you remember what you said?”

Ann blushes.

“That the word ‘forever,’ regardless of context, usually terrifies me.”

“Yes,” you nod. “But here you are with me, after all these years. And I’ve never once acknowledged that you stopped being afraid of the word ‘forever’ for my sake.”

You aren’t saying these words for nothing. Lately, thoughts of separation have been constantly entering your head. You are afraid of those thoughts. And your gift is a question. Does your wife agree that you are still together “forever”?

In answer to the unasked question, Ann tucks the rose behind her ear as an ornament.

You know this means YES. You embrace Ann, pressing her full breasts against your chest. She is wearing only her underwear, and it arouses you. You begin to think that perhaps today you will be able to get it up. You could think, for example, about how Omar, now entirely dependent on you, will listen enviously to your wife’s moans ... the thought really does begin to stiffen your cock.

“I want you,” you whisper to your wife.

“And I want you.”

She could not have answered better. You lower her panties ... and at that moment Omar, back in his bed after a visit to the toilet, lets out a loud, wrenching groan. Ann immediately pulls her panties up in alarm.

“What’s wrong with him?” she says anxiously, already heading toward the old man. You roll your eyes and follow. How does Omar keep managing to spoil things for you?

When you enter, your beloved is on her knees before the vagrant lying on the bed. His face looks like an assembly of wrinkles. All the suffering in the universe is in his eyes.

“What is it, Omar?” Ann asks.

“It hurts ... where that boy hit me in the sides...”

“Well, stop putting up with it!” Ann says sternly. “You need a doctor!”

“No, no!” He waves his hands, which apparently hurts, because he grimaces harder. “I’m getting better every day. It’s only bruises! Could you just stroke me, little daughter? Your hands make it feel better! If your husband doesn’t mind, of course...”

“Yuri doesn’t mind!” Ann cuts him off. “It’s just a massage!”

Kneeling before another man, your wife begins stroking his sides with her hands. Your rose is still behind her ear, held in place by her hair.

“Yeees ... little daughteeer ... that feels so good...”

“You’d think she was sucking your cock,” you think irritably. During this massage your wife’s face moves up and down near the old man’s groin. An astonishing contrast: an innocent angel’s face and the old underpants of an immigrant vagrant! And then ... the sheer gall! You were about to take your wife, but instead another man “called” her away and now she’s massaging him instead of doing her marital duty!

... You were interrupted during sex with your wife, and that’s why the arousal hasn’t passed. So, you tell yourself when you feel a harder erection than Ann’s embrace gave you. You try to calm your organ, usually so reluctant to stand up, but it has no intention of going down! Drive nature out through the door and it flies back in through the window...