Glory Hole (3)

Misty my best friend was already in the car and looked like she was on the verge of passing out. Slowly, drunkenly she tapped the seat right beside her to let me know to sit right there. My big strong companion sat in the seat beside

her. We fell all over each other as our near lifeless bodies collapsed from what each of us had enjoyed that night.

At that point, I was looking back on the night like it was a distant memory like it was an extraordinarily vivid dream.

As we pulled up to Misty’s apartment, the tall older man was there to walk us to the door.

As Misty clumsily fumbled for her keys when she went to open the door, the older gentleman said, “Excuse me, ma’am, I have this for you.”

There I saw it, the beautiful golden envelope he placed in my hand as he walked away made me feel like I was flying. It was like someone had given me a breath for the first time, and I could not wait to open theenvelope to find out when the next beautiful person's party was.

By the time I got inside, I had collapsed on the couch without ever opening the invitation to this realm of debauchery and pure bliss that I was now a part

of.

******

The next morning, I snuck out her front door and made my way home. I just knew Brian was going to be furious, and I figured I would tell him that I didn’t want to drive drunk.

I had told him that I was just going to drink

some wine and watch movies with Misty, so at least I had that to fall back on. I at least had my excuse already planned out.

Going into the house, I could see he definitely came home drunk yet again, but at least I wasn’t sitting here waiting for him this time. I’d only gotten about four hours of sleep, but I was completely awake.

I felt alive for the first time in years, and I peeked into our bedroom door. Brian was passed out across the bed, still in his clothes, shoes and all. I accidentally jiggled

the handle and it startled him awake.

All he said was, “Is breakfast ready yet?”

I ran quickly into the laundry room and ripped off all the clothes that smelled of pure sexual bliss in hopes to hide my night of perfection.

I grabbed a nightgown from the dryer then quickly ran into the kitchen to resume my life filled with careful scheduling.

As I was making his egg omelet, I kept going over the last night’s events. I kept wondering if I would be able to make myself go to the next one, or if I could keep myself from going to the next one. I wasn’t completely sure

which I wanted.

That was the first time I noticed that the needs of my husband simply didn’t matter to me at all. When Brian came in to sit at the table, I brought him his egg omelet and he sat there eating it quietly.

I just watched him, waiting for him to explode. I just knew that he was going to yell, scream, or something. As he shoved another fork filled with egg into his mouth, he asked if I had a great time last night.

“It was nice to hang out with my friend.”

I replied before asking him what time he’d come home. He looked at me and said, “What? Do you not remember? Did I manage to not wake you up when I crawled into bed?”

Just as easy as it was to fuck all the strangers the night before, the lie flew from my mouth, “Oh you’re right honey. I almost forgot. I was sleeping so deeply.”