Goody Two Shoes Read Free Page A

do fan myself.  “Okay, hang on, let me catch my breath.  You’re telling me that Steve allowed you to suck some other man’s cock?”
    “Steve drove me there.”
    “Ugh, uh, no way.”
    “Oh yeah, all this was his idea.  He met Jonathon through one of his golf buddies and Jonathon invited us to join.  But remember this is when we were just starting the divorce; I wasn’t even speaking to Steve at the time.  He was sleeping at his office until he could find a place.  But he called me and asked me to meet him to talk through some things.  I figured he meant who got the formal china kind of talk, so I agreed.”
    “Who is this Jonathon guy?”  I asked, freshly skeptical.
    “Jonathon does the training.  Anyway, the bottom line is that I still loved Steve.  I guess that’s the real reason I met with him that night.  But something clicked when I met Jonathon; he enlightened me… I don’t know it seemed like something I might try after all.  So I agreed to the lessons.  In my mind I was preparing for husband number two.  What I found out, is that I really want to keep husband number one.”
    I laugh again, well, because it’s funny as hell to me that she had some great epiphany that suddenly made her want to suck a strange man’s penis.  For the life of me I can’t think of a single brilliant moment that I’ve ever had that made me eager to suck a penis.
    “Oh right, keep on laughing.  Want me to host a bake sale to pay for your divorce?”
    Sting!  So my husband isn’t a wealthy lawyer with an influx of new clients.  He has a new book he’s working on… who knows, maybe he’ll save a tree one day or something equally as important.  I’ve always had the nagging sensation that Simmons was going to do something important one day.  Up till now, we’ve done alright, considering we put three kids through college and I’ve never worked.  I glare at her because I know she’s right on the nose; a divorce would kill us financially.  “Point made.  So tell me what sucking this man’s…”
    “Cock.”
    “Cock,” I repeat, “taught you about your marriage.”
    She laughs, “You said cock!  Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”  She leans towards me as if she’s explaining where to find the Holy Grail, “It taught me not to be afraid of a mirror.  It taught me that just because I’m a Grandma doesn’t mean I have to look like one.  Seriously Tara, have you seen that bathing suit you’re wearing?”
    I look down at my fully clad midriff with a grimace; she’s right about this stupid suit too.  It’s horrid.  What’s worse is that the rest of my clothes are similar.  “So why can’t I just go buy a new wardrobe?  Get a makeover?”
    She studies me, “It wouldn’t hurt, but it’s not going to solve the problem by itself.  It’s not really going to change anything because all you’re changing is the symptom.  You need the cure to a bad marriage.  Clothes aren’t it.  You’re going to have to change the way you think Tara.  Forget all that shit about the Wrath of Hell, and change from here,” she says, pointing at her heart.
    “I like to think my heart’s in the right place most of the time.”
    “Oh it is girlfriend, it is.  But you’re so busy following what you think are rules that you don’t have any damn fun.  When’s the last time you had an orgasm, Tara?  Just tell me.”
    My face reddens.  Did I mention I’m not sure it’s ladylike to be talking about s-e-x like this?  “I don’t know, I can’t even remember, why?”
    “Because I just had one, not ten minutes before I left the house.”
    “With Steve?” I giggle uncomfortably.
    “Yes with Steve!  Fool.  I’m telling you, if you don’t change, Simmons is going to cheat on you.  Men can only go so long with Mother Theresa as a wife.  It’s not their nature.”
    Again her words strike like Sister Loyola’s ruler.  I haven’t told her, but I suspect he’s already cheating.