The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

made it remained a mystery to me. I’d met Susan through Marci during a time when the latter seemed to have drifted. She had been prone to moods, which were always in stark contrast to her general character, which was ebullient, even brassy.

Marci and Susan’s relationship extended through their childhoods, so there was no question about it continuing when Susan and I became an item. They were like sisters who got along extremely well. My own sisters couldn’t stand each other.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” said Marci. “I bought croissants. They’re dangerously good.”

“Thanks, Marci. How are you?” I joined them at the table after grabbing a coffee.

“Same as always,” she said. “Susan tells me you two had quite a night, you brute.” Susan smacked Marci’s arm, slightly more than just playfully, but smiled too.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. It just came out,” said Susan.

“That’s okay. Did you tell Marci why I was a brute? That sort of claim needs a story to support it.”

“I’m up to speed about your wife’s accidental exhibitionism,” said Marci, air quoting the ‘accidental’. “I’m the first one she told about it. She was pretty hysterical. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

That was an interesting comment, I thought. Susan’s initial response, given to Marci, was apparently more animated than the one she had given to me much later.

“Hysterical?” I said. “Susan seemed pretty calm when she told me.”

“She means ‘concerned’, Ryan,” said Susan. “Marci, I wasn’t hysterical. And it was an accident. I was just concerned about it.”

“Words,” said Marci. “Anyway, I’m not talking about your little exhibitionism escapade. I’m talking about your being so turned on by it. That’s what made you hysterical. You couldn’t understand why it made you so horny.”

“Jesus, Marci,” said Susan. “That was sort of between us, wasn’t it? Besides, I was just trying to figure out my feelings. I didn’t know how I really felt one way or the other. I told Ryan everything.”

“If you say so,” said Marci. “Anyway, I think it’s cool. You two talked it over and look at what happened. You said you had epic sex. What did you say you shouted out to the neighborhood? ‘FUCK ME. I’VE BEEN A BAD GIRL’.” Marci laughed. Susan did not.

“The things you two talk about always amaze me,” I said. “Anyway, that’s not what she said. It was more like ‘FUCK ME BECAUSE I WAS NAUGHTY’.”

“As I said, words,” said Marci. “The point is… well, there is no point, is there? Dirty talk is just dirty talk. It’s its own point. I’ve had men tell me I’ve been a naughty girl. Didn’t we dirty talk, Ryan? It’s a thing for a lot of women. Susan likes to be naughty too, clearly.”

“Would you two shut up about what I blabbed out please?” said Susan.  “I was in the throes of ecstasy. That’s all.” She was trying to feel light-hearted about it rather than embarrassed.

This talk was reanimating my private situation. I wished I’d worn briefs. Having Marci on the inside of my private life was both weird and slightly arousing and, of course, having a history with Marci complicated everything, at least emotionally. I wondered if Susan had held anything back the night before when she told me about her underwear incident. Marci made it sound like Susan’s initial reaction to her goof with Greg was more erotically charged than she’d indicated. What else had she told Marci?

“So, Marci,” I said. “What do you think about Susan’s reaction? The being turned on bit?” Susan didn’t seem to mind me posing the question to her best friend and confidant, who also happened to be a former lover of mine. Perhaps she wanted to hear her further perspectives as well.

“She’s a whore,” said Marci, sounding serious. She took a beat and laughed, but Susan and I both already knew she was joking.

“But seriously, folks,” Marci continued. “The question is, did she really forget she’d taken off the robe? Or was it intentional? This may go deeper than we initially thought.”

“Marci,” said Susan, somewhat sternly. “It was an accident. I would never have done that on purpose, and certainly not in that bra.”

“Ah,” said Marci. “And why did you pick out that bra? Maybe it was Ryan’s favorite, and you knew Greg would like it.”

“Nice try, Marci,” said Susan, now laughing. “Half my bras are like that. I have a girly side, I like girly, pretty things too.”

What if Marci had a point? Susan didn’t wear that panty and bra combination every day. She even once told me it was more for nights out, which is usually when we would come home and make love. It now dawned on me we hadn’t been going out much the past year. Damn it. When was the last time we’d made love before the night before? I couldn’t remember.

“Okay, but it was worth a shot.” Marci took a large bite of her croissant, smacked her lips, and took a sip of coffee. “But I think it’s interesting, don’t you? The underwear is key here, I think. When a woman gets dressed she’s also getting prepared, you know, for the day ahead? I go for support when I know no one is going to see me take off my clothes if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying what you’re selling, Marci,” said Susan. “I always mix it up. Some days I feel extra girly. Other days I’m the power career woman and go for no-nonsense stuff. I like the variety.”

Marci took another bite of croissant, chewed thoughtfully, then resumed. “What’s this guy do anyway, your neighbor? You’ve never really said much about him. Doesn’t he have to go to work like normal people? That’s the chink in my theory. You didn’t expect him to be home, so of course, it was just an accident.”

Greg was a self-employed day trader. He’d made a bundle in tech, and his primary activity now was playing around with stocks. He seldom had to leave his house. I didn’t bring