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“No. It was more along the lines of, I met Ash at a party, she introduced me to some people, and I did a few parts, but it’s a lot harder than it looks.”
“Having sex?” I ask, because yeah, I’m curious too. I’ve watched enough porn in my life to know some of that shit has to be staged.
“Yeah, man. It’s not like you’re just banging the shit out of some chick. There’s like, thirty fucking people in the room and some dude looking over your shoulder with a camera.” Bonner pauses and reaches for his cell phone that dings beside him. He reads the message, then says, “It takes a lot of concentration not to blow your load the minute you’re inside her and takes the fun out of it.”
“No, kids take the fun out of fucking,” Jason adds. “Don’t talk to me about your sex problems until you’ve had sex in a broom closet to avoid getting caught by your kids.”
I stare at Jason and think about his comment. I haven’t asked why he and Kate divorced, and now I’m afraid to. I guess Kelly and I aren’t the only ones doing it in unconventional places.
It’s about twenty minutes later when Jason leaves, and swears he’s not going to google Bonner’s wife. Neither of us believes him.
“I need to go too,” I tell Bonner, tossing my empty beer can away.
Bonner stands from his place on the tires and winks at me, handing me a pill. “Try this, man.”
I examine the pill in my hand and know exactly what it is. “I don’t need that.”
“Yes, you do. It’ll help, believe me.”
And then I get pissed. How dare this little porn punk think I need help getting it up. “I’m thirty. I don’t need fucking Viagra.”
His lips quirk up, doing his best not to smile before he clasps his hand over my shoulder. “Think of it as a gift for her.”
And then he turns and goes inside his house, leaving me standing there with a little blue pill in my hand. What the fuck just happened?
Looking down at the pill, in my head I tell myself I should toss it in the garbage, but for some stupid reason, I put it in my pocket and walk back to the house. I also tell myself I’m not going to take it, but then I think about what Bonner said about it being a gift for Kelly.
My hard dick isn’t the problem. Our lack of connection is. But maybe… nah. No. Don’t even think about it now. I know the horror stories where the man can’t get rid of the erection.
But… I hate to think that we’ve lost the spark, or whatever it is that’s happening, but the truth is, marriage is fucking hard. Like my dick is about to be.
No, you don’t need it,I silently tell myself, hoping I’m going to listen.
Pulling out my cell phone, I google the side-effects first. Headache. Flushing. Upset stomach. Abnormal vision. Blurred vision. Stuffy or runny nose. Back pain. Muscle pain. Nausea.
Why don’t they just call it the flu pill? It sounds a hell of a lot like the flu, but then again, your dick is hard for what, four hours?
Shrugging, I pop the pill in my mouth, drink an entire glass of water, stare out the window for ten minutes and think of gagging so I’ll throw the pill up, and then head upstairs.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Seven
Drunk Husbands & Back Doors
(Think twice before you agree to anything. Also, lube doesn’t mix with water. Slippery when wet is an understatement.)
“Oliver, your room is a disaster.”
You thought I lost him earlier, didn’t you? I didn’t. He was in the house while I was walking, not doing his homework, but playing video games. Story of my life. My kids never do anything I tell them to. Most of the time it’s like I’m not talking at all.
Like I’m the worst person in the world, Oliver grumbles something my way with a game controller in hand. But it sounds like, “I like it that way.”
“Clean it up.” And then I get a whiff of him and his room. If you’ve ever had a boy, you know this smell. It’s something between sweat, dirt, and rotten food. “Did you shower?”
With a look of pre-preteen-boy annoyance, he peeks up at me and pushes his dark hair from his face and tosses his basketball off his bed and onto the floor. “No.”
“Why not?”