CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT A FORMULA OF YET ANOTHER KIND
This formula is 1-[4-ethoxy-3-(6,7-dihydro-1-methyl-7-oxo-3-propyl-1H-pyrazolo[4,3-d]pyrimidin-5-yl) phenylsulfonyl]-4-methylpiperazine, better known as sildenafil which is the active ingredient in Viagra, Cialis, Revatio, Levitra, Vardenafil and any other boner building meds. One of the problems with sildenafil, especially for Malarkey, is that it doesn’t work very well. Oh, he can get a semi-permanent erection, but it never seems to last and he always seems to get every other side effect, except the one he pines for: a four-hour hard on. As a way of sublimating, Malarkey has written a short story about sildenafil that the Reader will find at the end of this chapter.
At any rate, the morning after his Formula 1 orgasm, Malarkey slowly opens his eyes. Liliana fetchingly looks at him, her elbow on the bed, chin in hand and smiles a seductive smile.
“Morning, Humbert … wanna make a baby?”
At that hour, Malarkey isn’t fully awake, but awake enough not to be seduced. He puts his finger in his ear as if he’s not heard her correctly.
“Hmmm, not this morning, dear, but …”
“But what? But later?”
“No, but is breakfast included?”
Liliana shakes her head as if she’s heard it all before. The woman is a saint. Who could possibly be with someone so incorrigible except, perhaps, Melania Trump. It is a testimony to her fortitude.
“You know, it’s highly inappropriate for you to be sleeping with one of your advisees so if you don’t want to be reported you should do as I ask.”
“Yes, well, it’s equally inappropriate for you to be abusing the elderly.”
Liliana always sleeps in the nude. It’s one of the many things that endears her to Malarkey since she’s got a very 60s attitude to her body. She pulls back the sheets and straddles his chest. From Malarkey’s point of view, she’s a goddess: the brunette hair cascading across her shoulders and breasts, her Cupid’s bow lips the envy of Venus herself; and he tries to reconcile why a goddess like Liliana would be straddling the geriatric chest of someone with solar lentigines and an occasional skin tag. If one believes in miracles in life then this straddling would be one of them.
“Is this elder abuse?”
“Without meds, yes, yes it is.”
“Always an answer.”
Liliana climbs out of bed and starts to walk toward the bathroom. Malarkey gazes at her from behind, lovely legs, pins of perfection, and a shapely ass meant for Ipanema. She looks over her shoulder and smiles as Malarkey turns to the Reader and raises his eyebrows as he is wont to do. If the Reader is finally realizing there may be a conflict between Liliana wanting a baby and Malarkey having second thoughts about creating one, then the Reader is not prescient, just able to read the obvious. To that end, Malarkey commends you. And now, this …
Osphena & Phil
-A Pre-Medicated Love Story-
Osphena Ospemifene (aka Οσφενα Οσπεμιφενε) and Phil Sildena met through an online dating site for people over fifty. Their exact ages are unimportant. What is important is that based on their profiles they seemed to have had multiple things in common. Lifestyle, background, education, interests, values, all those things that seem to make for an alleged match. Osphena was a seasoned traveler, had lived in France, Brazil and Argentina and was now divorced. She was a tall and slender woman, handsome in some respects, with a chiseled chin and brunette hair, with lips and eyewear not unlike Nana Mouskouri. As Phil was to discover, her name came from the Greek, Orchomenus, where she was born.
Phil was strapping for a man of his age, over six-feet tall and though his hair had receded long ago there were still some wisps of salt and pepper. His surname, “Silenda,” was of Italian origins for those who came from Silendys which was once a part of Sondrio in Lombardy and which meant “to be silent.” Like Osphena, Phil, too, was a seasoned traveler who, for a number of years, lived in both Nerja, in the south of Spain, as well as in Cassis, in the south of France. Like Osphena, he too was now divorced and was trying to begin afresh.
After emailing, texting and chatting for a couple of weeks they decided to meet for dinner. It took place in Manhattan Beach. Il Fornaio, as I recall. The sexual attraction was immediately palpable and the online photos did not belie her beauty, for she did, in fact, look like Nana Mouskouri. In between appetizers and entrées they chatted for hours about things like travel and children, food and film, art and music and everything seemed so right for the two of them. They talked for so long that they actually closed down the restaurant as the last two patrons to leave. Phil apologized profusely to the maître’d who merely replied, “È un piacere” and the two of them strolled out of the building. At some moment, their hands accidentally touched, then clasped until they reached her car and as he opened the door for her they kissed the first of would not be their last kiss.
For the next couple of weeks, they continued to Skype or email or chat on the phone; they dined at fashionable and not-so-fashionable eateries in Los Angeles and Orange County until the time came when Osphena, feeling totally comfortable with Phil, asked him if he would like to come for dinner. Of course, he couldn’t refuse such a gracious offer and so a date was set with all the attendant anxieties and reservations that would have accompanied such an invitation.
As Phil was to discover, Osphena was a marvelous cook who said she had once studied with the maestro himself, Paul Bocuse, when she was living in Lyon with her ex-husband who was a venture capitalist. Needless to say, Paul was astonished to hear that and couldn’t wait to see what kind of a fantasy feast she would prepare for the two of them. Her home was located in Pacific Palisades, perched on a bluff overlooking the sea, and given the warmth of the July night, they dined al fresco adjacent to the pool.
To say the very least, the dinner was magnificent and would have made the maestro proud. For starters, scallop of foie gras, pan-cooked, with a passion fruit sauce followed by filet of beef Rossini and a Périgueux sauce with a side of broccoli mousse. The feast was finished with fromage blanc and double cream and consummately concluded with a Sirio Crème brulée as only the maestro could have made it. The dinner itself was companioned by more than one bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac, 1996 (which Phil brought) and accompanied by selections from Jobim to Veloso, Nascimento to Gilberto all of whom Osphena was enamored based upon her lengthy sojourn in São Paulo.
The combination of dinner and wine and music went delightfully to their heads and, needless to say, ended with the inevitable voyage around her bedroom. As Osphena was showing Phil some of the paintings she had acquired while she lived in South America, she turned her back to him and her tan shoulders and slender legs lasciviously exposed beneath the little black dress was a bit too much for Phil to handle and he brushed aside her shoulder-length hair and kissed the nape of her neck. There was no resistance. She excitedly turned. They kissed each other full on their mouths as they tumbled onto her bed.
Soon, their clothes were tossed, scattered on the hardwood floors, draped on the mid-eighteenth Century Venetian Commode and they began to kiss again, passionately. Hands and fingers and toes intermingled beneath the luxury of Sferra Egyptian cotton sheets and a Swedish comforter made in Malmö. As a super moon espied on them through French doors it seemed as if nothing in the world could undermine that exquisite moment, but when Phil placed his hand on her vagina, she suddenly stopped and bolted upright.
What’s wrong? Phil asked. Did I do something wrong?
No, but I have something to tell you.
What is it?
She hesitated.
My gynecologist recommended that I pre-medicate.
For what?
She hesitated.
A dry vagina.
I see. And so? Is that a problem?
So, there might be some side effects.
Side effects? Like what?
Well, serious ones could include stroke or blood clots or eventually cancer of the lining of the uterus.
I see, but that’s a worst-case scenario and they always have to say that in order to protect themselves legally.
Yes, I guess you’re right.
She lay down again and they began intensely kissing, but no sooner had they started when Osphena stopped again.
But there may be others.
Others? Really? Like what?
I could have unusual vaginal bleeding or there might be changes in my vision or speech.
Yes, but we’ll just see what happens. Let’s not get too alarmed about that right now.
You’re right.
And they began kissing even more intensely than before, but once again Osphena stopped.
But there could be more.
How much more? Such as?
Such as sudden severe headaches or severe chest or leg pains. I might even have shortness of breath or sudden weakness and fatigue.
Certainly those things could be disarming, but we can monitor them. You know, just watch for them.
You’re right.
And they began kissing again, but it wasn’t long before Osphena curtailed their lovemaking.
But I could suffer from hot flashes or vaginal discharge or muscle spasms not to mention increased sweating. That would be so embarrassing.
Please, Osphena, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s all good to know, but let’s just take our chances.
Yes, let’s just take our chances, but truth is best.
Thanks for telling me.
Once again they began to kiss, passionately, but when Osphena reached for Phil’s penis, he stopped abruptly.
What’s wrong? Osphena asked. Did I do something wrong?
No, but I have something to tell you.
What is it?
He hesitated.
My urologist recommended that I pre-medicate.
For what?
He hesitated.
Erectile dysfunction.
I see. And so?
So, there might be some side effects.
Like what?
Well, serious ones could be hives or maybe difficulty in breathing. My face or my lips or tongue or throat even might swell.
I see, but that’s a worst-case scenario and they always have to say that in order to protect themselves legally.
Yes, you’re right.
And they began intensely kissing again, but no sooner had they started than Phil stopped.
But there may be others.
Others? Really? Like what?
During sex, I might get dizzy or nauseated, or have pain, or numbness or tingling in my chest, arms, neck, or jaw as if I were having a heart attack.
Certainly, those things could be disarming, but we can monitor them. You know, just watch for them.
Yes, you’re right.
And they initiated the kissing once again, but it wasn’t long before Phil curtailed the lovemaking.
If that happens, I’d have to stop and call my doctor right away. And that would be so embarrassing.
Please, Phil, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I understand and, if that happens, we’ll call immediately.
Seemingly relaxed, they started what they had started numerous times before, but, once again, no sooner had they started when Phil abruptly quit.
But I could suddenly go blind or deaf not to mention vomiting and sweating along with an irregular heartbeat. I just had to tell you everything. Truth is best.
Thank you. That’s all good to know, said Osphena, but let’s take our chances. Try to relax.
And they endeavored to begin again, but no sooner had they started when Phil stopped one last time.
But, and this is the worst of all, I could have a painful erection or that might last for four hours. Maybe longer.
She hesitated.
And that would be the worst of all? She asked quizzically.
I just can’t imagine having an erection for four hours, can you?
Osphena raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
And I couldn’t imagine having a dry vagina for four hours, can you?
Phil raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
For the next twenty minutes the two potential lovers lie in bed, fingers folded on their respective chests, staring at the ceiling or gazing at the super moon beyond the French doors when Osphena turned to Phil and Phil turned to Osphena and together they said, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
Yes, you’re probably right, they responded in unison and after the two of them got dressed, they shared a cognac, and kissed goodnight. Phil drove home to Villa Park. They never met again, and what could have perhaps become a relationship for the ages, merely ended as it had begun: an online date pre-medicated for Osphena Ospemifene and Phil Sildena.
Just why Malarkey included this short story isn’t very clear. Perhaps, in a way, it was a way of avoiding baby talk, but that, like the length of time sildenafil works, won’t last.