Geekus Interruptus Read Free

things to head. And Peter was married. He was not even
in contention for the role of serious boyfriend or throw-it-all-away lover.
Besides, what was good for the goose was not necessarily good for the gander.
Or vice versa, Marcy wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was this: Peter
needed to stop tempting her with his bedroom eyes and lusty come-on voice, or
she would come right there in the driveway and forever hate herself.
    She backed away, shaking her head. This
wasn’t going to be easy. Doing the right thing never was.
    “Aw, come on, Marcy. Please? Don’t be like
that, baby.”
    He was begging now. Marcy had always loved
it when they begged. All those years when she was single, she’d made guys get down
on their knees. They’d plead with her, and she’d happily relent. Indulge their
fantasies by wearing some bizarre French maid outfit, crotchless panties, a
Rastafarian wig. They’d look at her with wide eyes as they handed her a brown
paper bag containing contraband like ben wa balls, a spiky harness, silk scarves,
extra-large dildos. Whatever they needed from her, the kinds of things
girlfriends wouldn’t do. She’d loved mindless sex with men who wanted her for
her body, men who appreciated what her body could do to them.
    Mindless sex and wild one-night stands had
been her passion. How had she ended up the desperate wife of a geek who didn’t even
desire her?
    Marcy’s stomach lurched. She turned away
from Peter and focused on gathering up the newspaper, retrieving the scattered sheets
from the driveway.
    “You have the perfect ass,” Peter said. “What
I wouldn’t give to plow that furrow.”
    He was desperate now. She could tell by the
way his trite commentary had turned wistful. He was losing steam. Less confident,
deflated. She did have a nice, round butt, but, really, his compliments were
coming from another place now. This was desperation talking.
    Which she’d always loved. She’d loved it
when they were so hot for her they couldn’t keep their hands off. When they had
to touch every inch of her soft skin. When they had to have her, now, no matter
where, no matter what the risk. Yes, here, now, in the garden shed with the
landscaping crew out front weed-whacking the walkway. Yes, now, in a friend’s
bedroom with postered walls reverberating from a raucous house party downstairs.
Oh, yes, here and now, in the back seat of the car, in the bushes at the park,
in the men’s room at the neighborhood tavern. Oh my God, they had to hit it,
right now, right here, right this minute!
    But that was then. Before she’d found Jess.
Before she’d married. Married a man she would fucking kill if he did such things
with somebody else.
    “Let’s not do anything we’ll regret,” Marcy
said, her arms full of newspaper. It was so messed up she would rather throw it
away than try to straighten it out.
    “What you’re going to regret is not letting
me cram my giant hard-on into your wet pussy.”
    Peter revved his ultra-luxe engine and
backed out of the driveway. Then he shot off with an angry squeal of radial
tires on hot asphalt.
    Marcy went into the house and locked the
door. She was glad she hadn’t fucked up and had sex with the neighbor. She
could wait for a better offer, find a single guy, someone anonymous she wouldn’t
have to see at block parties. Besides, she wasn’t ready. This wasn’t the time
to get herself a lover. Not yet. It was too early in the game for that. She had
to think ahead, analyze the situation, use strategy, figure out what the best
move would be.
    First, she needed to determine whom Jess
was seeing. She pictured her husband, his long fingers delving into the silken
vulva of a lanky blonde. The vision made her double over in gut-wrenching pain.
She held the newspaper wad to her abdomen and squeezed her eyes shut. It hurt
to think of him touching another woman, suckling her perky breasts, rubbing his
smooth hands across her cool, lean flesh.
    Marcy’s stomach wrenched a few