Sometimes you just can’t help yourself. Especially when it involves free sex. I didn’t want to meet Sandy for drinks. I knew it was wrong. I also knew that ‘drinks’ was just code for sex. There was no avoiding it, as sex was something that I couldn’t pass up. Call me weak. Call me stupid. I just can’t turn away free sex. And before you go passing judgment on me, think about it yourself. This pitch was being lobbed right over the plate. It’s hard not to take a swing, especially when you know you are going to hit a home run.
The sex we had on New Year’s Eve was great. But maybe it was the excitement of being caught that made it so intense. Maybe it was the fact that I was plastered off my ass. Cheap, meaningless, bathroom sex was good. What was so wrong about trying to relive a little of the that magic?
I met Sandy at her apartment at 11:30. When I walked through the door, Sandy was dressed in a French maid outfit, holding two glasses of scotch. She looked even better than the last time I saw her. She filled out the outfit quite well and her legs were just as fantastic as I remembered. She handed me a scotch, and downed the other. Now, I am no connoisseur of fine liquor, but I’m pretty sure 25 year-old scotch is not for throwing back, shot-style. But I’ll cut her some slack since she was wearing a French-maid outfit. She slammed the door shut, unbuttoned my pants and went to work.
“I’m here to please,” she whispered, as she moved down my body.
We spent the entire night having great sex. Apparently, it wasn’t the excitement of getting caught or the liquor that made it so great. It was Sandy and me together. There was some kind of raw, sexual magnetism - and I was digging it big time.
After that night, we began to see each other regularly. If Jim was out of town, we would meet at her place after I got off work. Many times, she would meet me at the store, and venture into the back for some scotch and a quickie after everyone was gone.
I was beginning to actually like Sandy as a person. We were having great sex, but we were also having fun. She told me funny stories about mingling in the upper stratosphere of New York Society. She made fun of Jim all the time. She could be hilarious. We would talk on the phone and share laughs between sexual escapades, but, all the while, in the back of my mind, I knew she was married. This simple fact was killing me slowly.
The more we hung out the more I found myself drawn to her. Things were getting pretty serious. We started meeting for dinners about twice a week. That was a huge step since this was in public. Usually, some Chinese food in Chinatown, so we could avoid prying eyes. We figured different little hole in the wall joints were the best spots since we wouldn’t run into any of her socialite friends. I have to admit that I did like the excitement of it all. The sneaking around and the fear of being caught was definitely adding to the whole experience. The endorphins created over roast pork lo mein were somehow blocking out the fact that Sandy was a married woman when I was with her. Once, over chicken with broccoli, I broached the subject.
“You know, I love hanging out with you, and the sex is great, but I can’t help thinking about the fact that you are married. It really upsets me because I’m falling for you,” I said, as I picked up some chopsticks and threw away my manhood.
Sandy turned serious. She leaned in to me and said in a definitive tone, “I know, but I told you, I am going to leave him. He doesn’t know how to make me feel like a woman. All he cares about is work and making money. He never has time for me. You know,” she paused, “ I actually think he’s cheating on me.”
This was an interesting development. Two adulterers.
“Cheating on you? You’re cheating on him. You’ve been sleeping with me for over a month. That’s not even taking into consideration New Year’s Eve.”
Sandy got upset. She leaned in even closer. I could really get a good look at her face. Her teeth were really white. I wonder what toothpaste she used. I needed to get myself a tube. Her eyes were really green, too. They were piercing right through me when she again reassured me, “I am going to leave him. I want to be with you. Just give me some time.”
And there you have it. I couldn’t believe what this affair was turning into. I was the pathetic, lead character in a bad, made for television movie, trapped in an uncommitted relationship. I had become the other woman. In this case, the other man.
“Can we drop this?” Sandy implored, “ I just want to enjoy our dinner together. You know I love you.”
She loves me. Well, that was a revelation. In fact, the second big revelation tonight. Did I love Sandy? I definitely loved sleeping with her. But, did I love her? And what do you say after someone says ‘I love you’? I wasn’t going to say ‘I love you’ back, but I had to say something.
“Yeah,” I answered lamely.
I was indeed, the sad ‘other man’ listening to my lover tell me everything was going to be fine. “Just give me a little more time and you’ll see, things will work out.” The really pathetic part was, I was buying it hook, line, and sinker. These conversations became the standard exchange for us over the next few months. We would have sex, or go out to eat at some hidden dive away from everyone we knew, and I would start bitching about our ‘relationship.’ She kept telling me that she was going to leave Jim, and though I believed her, I was getting desperate. I wanted some assurances. I wanted some proof that this was actually going to happen. Up to this point, all I had was lip service. That’s when she dropped the bomb on me one night at her apartment.
I was sitting on the couch, sipping a scotch, looking out the window admiring the sun setting over the Park. It must be nice to live here all of the time. What a view. I could actually see the model boats on the pond. That’s crazy! Then Sandy just blurted out, “Look, I’m tired of sneaking around with you. Going to unknown restaurants and late nights at my apartment when Jim isn’t home. I want to see you more. So I got you an apartment on 72nd. Just a few blocks away from me, so we can have some fun without any fear. Anyway, isn’t it about time you moved out of your sister’s studio apartment? Why don’t you start moving some stuff in it this weekend? Then we’ll christen the new apartment all night.”
I was shocked. I was stunned. Was I really going to allow myself to be a kept man? Where was my pride? Where was my manhood?
“When did you decide this?” I was shocked. I didn’t know what else to say.
“The other week. I was just walking along Madison Avenue, doing some shopping, and I said to myself, ‘why are we sneaking around when we could just spend time in our own apartment.’ I called a broker and told him we were looking for something to keep for friends when they visited. He showed me a few, and I bought the place on 72nd that day. I just knew it would be perfect.” Sandy was brimming with excitement.
“Well, I guess that’s cool,” I said. Holy shit! This woman just bought an apartment like I buy dinner. Well, actually Sandy buys dinner. I’m nearly broke. “How about I just sleep there a few nights a week, instead of completely moving in?” I wasn’t sure if I was ready to completely emasculate myself yet.
“Sweetie, you can do whatever you want. It’s your apartment,” Sandy said, coolly.
I could do whatever I wanted. This sent me into a bonafide panic. I actually had a Sugar Momma. There are some guys who are my age, who have other women on the side. They are the Sugar Daddy. I, on the other hand, was a sad mess.
I agreed to accept the apartment.
That night, back at Michelle’s apartment, I called Jon and came clean about the whole affair. I was sitting next to Michelle on the couch, so I’m pretty sure she was listening to every word.
“You’ve been what?!” Jon exclaimed.
“I’ve been seeing Sandy for the past six months,” I said.
“Seeing Sandy for the past six months. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She’s married!” Jon cried.
“I know, I know. I don’t know how this happened?” I said.
“I do. You keep sleeping with her. Oh, my God. Does Jim know? How did it start?”
“It started at your house New Year’s Eve. We got a little intimate in the bathroom during dinner.”
I was ashamed.
“Intimate in the bathroom?? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Sara is going to kill me when she hears this. You have to end it. End it right now,” Jon said with a shaky voice.
“You can’t tell Sara!” I said.
“Of course, I’m not going to tell her. I just mean, if she knew, she would kill me,” Jon said.
“Good. Anyway, it might be a little hard to end it right now. She just bought me an apartment.”
“Are you trying to kill me? Dude, listen to me. Jim is my boss. You cannot move into an apartment with Sandy. He’s going to fire me,” Jon was pretty nervous.
“Jim doesn’t know. Anyway, Sandy told me that she is going to leave Jim pretty soon. They’re basically separated,” speaking this out loud really confirmed for me that I was indeed delusional.
“Do they still live together?” Jon asked.
“Yes, but – ” I answered.
“Then they are not separated!” Jon was screaming at me, “Separated people don’t live together. She’s using you, or having fun, or doing whatever. She’s not going to leave Jim.”
“I’m starting to really like her. I think I really want to be with her. She keeps telling me that she is going to leave Jim, so I started believing her.”
“Dude, you sound like a fucking bitch. Do you hear yourself? Putting that aside for now, considering she does leave Jim, don’t you think she will want some kind of commitment from you? After all you’re talking about someone leaving their husband.” Jon put it all out there.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess? Well, you better think about that,” Jon said. “Shit, okay, okay, David, I have to go because the baby is crying. Just promise me you’ll think about what I said.” He hung up.
The truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted. I know I was complaining to Sandy about her being married, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to leave her husband so that I could marry her. I figured the best thing I could do was to take everything day by day.
Michelle, just shook her head and sprayed cleaner on the windows, “You never told Jon? Patheti.”
I inflated the air mattress and went to sleep.