Hope gently dabs her tea bag in her cup, though not really focusing upon the task at hand. Marlena is late, and Hope is becoming increasingly nervous that she will not show. Normally she would not be this edgy, but this visit is the most exciting thing her sad little homemaker life has allowed her since the kidnapping. For a moment she almost wishes she was back there, facing the terror and the darkness, as opposed to sitting here, in her suburban home, while she debates frivolous things like fabric softeners or Zack’s latest rash. But no, she should not think that. For it really is her own fault her life has become so dreary and unimaginative. She left the force. She quit Titan. And having a small child to care for really does not allow her the luxury of an open future. So now, she sits and fights the urge to investigate any possible hold ups. And just when she feels she may lose the battle of the impulses, a bright ring sounds to the front of the house; the door bell. She stands quickly, and half walks, half jogs to answer it.
On the other side is the immaculate, and somewhat intimidatingly professional Dr. Marlena Evans. But today, she comes in a personal capacity, as that of friend, though it has taken Marlena some time to truly consider Hope as one. They smile politely and Hope offers to take Marlena’s jacket, like any other respectable host. Without much chatter, Hope leads the way to the kitchen where they both sit quietly, and stare at one another, as if waiting for the other to regale her with entertaining stories or shocking gossip. But it is long in coming, and Hope is back to playing her with now cold tea, and Marlena shredding bits of donut from the platter at the table’s center. There is a palpable distrust between them. Marlena secretly thinks back to her hellish post marital experience, and can’t help but still feel the sting of an old wound.
Hope is equally dubious, but whether it is because Marlena has become an unfamiliar person to her over the years, or because of the guilt she still harbors over events long past, she does not know. But they sit and they stare, until finally the tick of the nearby clock becomes too loud to endure a moment longer.
Marlena springs to life, asking about her children, or rather, her smallest child, “And how is Zack? I trust he is healthy and happy?”
Hope smiles the secret smile of a satisfied mother, proud of her child, “Oh, yes,” she stops playing with her tea, “He’s getting so big!”
“I know! I saw…” Marlena trails off a bit, unsure of how to continue.
“Bo mentioned the other day,” Hope brings a hand to her forehead, “that he might like to have another child.”
This truly interests Marlena, “Oh really? Another? So soon?”
“Says he wants a girl this time. A little sailor girl,” she laughs in a manner that tells Marlena how silly she finds the idea, “But I’ve got enough on my plate. No sense in adding to it.”
“Er, Hope, I don’t mean to pry but-“
“What? You want to know what it is I do all day?” The color that rises in Marlena’s cheeks is answer enough, “I take care of the boys, do the chores, watch my stories, fix dinner. You know, housewife duties.”
But the look on Marlena’s face makes it quite clear that she does not in fact have an understanding, “Well…”
“Oh come on Marlena,” Hope is incredulous.
“Honestly? Not. A. Clue.” she takes a breath, “I mean, I’ve always had the nanny, and John forbids me to cook. It’s always been: get up. Work. Come Home. Fool around. Sleep. Repeat,” she uses strict hand motions to help convey the machinery in her words.
“Every night?”
“Yes..”
“You have sex consistently *every* night?”
“Oh Hope…”
“No! You answer me! As sad as this is, this is probably the most interesting conversation I’ve had all year, and I’m not going to let decorum ruin it for me.”
“Fine. Yes, every night, excluding those where either I or John don’t come home for whatever reason.”
“I see.”
“Well, don’t you? I mean, every night.”
“We used to. Sometimes there’ll be a stretch of days in which we do, but other times, he’s too tired at night. You know, being a cop and all. So I guess for the most part, yeah.”
“Hope?”
“Hmm?”
“How uh…” Marlena fiddles with her hands before spacing them about a foot apart, “you know…”
Hope reaches for a banana, “Not too bad,” she begins to peel the banana before biting into it, “You?” she mouths with a mouthful of food.
“Huh,” Marlena looks to her from lowered lashes, “Well, you’ve slept with him. You should know,” her voice slightly dangerous.
“Oh,” Hope has the grace to look sheepish, “right.”
Reaching for a large loaf French bread, she takes it, breaking off a rather long piece, “hmmm,” she hums her approval before tearing away a piece to chew on.
The silliness of the moment suddenly catches up with them, and they must laugh, laugh until their bellies ache with joy and their eyes are moist with tears. Wiping a stray tear, this time Marlena finds herself as the inquisitive one, “So how many in a day?”
“How many what?” Hope is lost.
“Times?”
“Times?” She parrots, but then gains understanding, “Ooooh times! Well, on average, or the most?”
“Most. In one day.”
They both stare, at each other, eyebrows raised, daring the other to speak first, but they both call out, “6!” at once, and are left to stare more, as they realize they are on equal footing.
A light shines in Marlena’s eyes, the gleam of a wicked idea, “Tomorrow we settle this. At the end of the day, 24 hours from now. Winner decides loser’s punishment.”
“You’re on,” Hope is cool and collected, and grins devilishly as she sips a new cup of tea, “You’re going down!”
Marlena wets her lips, and they shine pure seduction, “I sure hope to.”
:::
Marlena rushes home, eager to begin the events. She is breathless from running, and her cheeks are pink from the exertion, “John!” she gasps, winded, as she spots him lounging on the sofa. He is busying himself with company figures, and bothers not to look up, “Yes Marlena?”
Realizing nothing she could say would capture his attention, she throws herself unto his lap, and grinds against him in a motion that is largely pleasant for both of them before attacking his mouth with her own. She dry humps him soundly for several intense moments, and quickly stands. John is confused at her retreat, and reaches to bring her back to him, but she is too quick, and pulls one of his large hands with both of hers to bring him to stand as well. Before he can protest further, she drags him upstairs, with a clear look not to argue with her.
Not that he is going to anyway.
He should be annoyed, but her wandering hands dip into the waistband of his trousers just then, and he lets out a little sharp cry as she touches him so skillfully, he thinks he might scream out. His mouth is smiling as it claims hers. A proud smile, as well. Gods, she knew just how to get him to capitulate. She bites down on his lip, just out of spite. Just to show him he wouldn’t tame her quite so easily.
She twists in his embrace to slide a hand over his body, to cover the shape of his burgeoning erection, straining against his trousers. He grunts, deep in his throat, and she chuckles, in charge here once again.
And so he lays her down, half tenderly, half ferocious with lust. His mouth rips from hers as he yanks her blouse up, out of her skirt and over her breasts. Her bra doesn’t last much longer. She hears the sounds of devouring, and the sensations against her nipples cause her to whimper against her will. Rather than remove her skirt, he pushes it to bunch around her waist, and finds her sans panties. Though, that is usual. And all the time, his hand works her, inside her, thrusting, paddling, stroking.
She draws him back on top of her, opening her legs around his thighs. He cups her face with both of his hands, the scent of her arousal strong all over. Intoxicating him. He is looking into her eyes, thrusting against her bringing them to completion. Muscles in her belly were pound with the nearness of him. She feels like she can’t get enough. She wants to drown herself in him. Never come up. Her darling John. No other man has ever turned her on so much. Her whole body aches with the wanting of him.
She curls her bare leg over him, hissing softly as he slides easily in and out of her. Part of her. He grins wildly, his eyes open and excited as they start to rock against one another, faster and faster. She gasps and grips his back as she comes the first time, almost at once.
He is crushing her with every thrust. As usual when he is between her legs, she is cramped as well, but as the end nears, he lets her sit up and take the dominant position, groping her breasts as they taunt him. He is close, she knows. She can feel it. She is there as well. His eyes are starting to glaze over and stare into middle distance.
With no warning, he spasms and groans, filling her deeply with hot spurts. She sits above him, watching him. She loves the look on his. Like he is in the most thrilling pain of his life. Loves the way that vein stands out in his forehead. The way his face flushes a deep red. The way he blows air through his cheeks like a bellow. She smiles at him and runs a finger down his face in a gentle caress.
His dark eyes are sated, grateful, and he looks so beautiful lying there, every muscle on his body glowing gold in the dim light. She loves him. God, how she loves him.
As John begins to doze a bit, she pulls from the drawer aside them, a pad and pencil, where she makes one small tick mark. Chuckling to herself, she realizes things might go her way after all.
Looking back at John, she realizes he is nearly asleep, “John!” she nudges him harshly with her elbow, then whines in that tone she uses to get her way, “Honey,” before trailing her lips further and further down until…
A wide eyed John howls his approval.
:::
Bo is tired, and his muscles are sore from an usually overactive day out on the field. His eyes droop as he makes his way to the bedroom, while his slow hands work to remove bits and pieces of his clothing. So tired, he thinks that he briefly considers sleeping in the clothing he still has on, and to forgone the rest. Yes, that sounds like a good idea, he thinks.
As he opens the door, he expects to find total darkness, but instead the room is bathed in candlelight and different scents mingle to produce and a musky aroma that is not all unpleasant. His unfocused eyes search for Hope, and there he finds her, kneeling upon their bed, in one of her nicer pieces of sleepwear.
He is nearly to the bed, and he throws himself upon it, onto his back, and he stares up at her, while she smiles down and gives him a knowing smile. Though he is tired, he feels he owes her this, as it has been some time since they have been intimate.
And so they engage in foreplay. Light petting, and the whispered exchange of vows. As activities increase in urgency, Hope decides to take action, and quickly mounts Bo, as she takes the reigns of her desire.
But no sooner did she do that, did Bo’s eyes go wide, and a strangled gurgle leaves his throat. They both freeze in shock, eyes and mouths open wide. Suddenly, the mood has died, and Hope is modestly covering herself as she removes herself from atop his midsection.
For Bo has gone and succumbed to the enemy: premature ejaculation.
Hope is further saved from reassuring her husband of his virility when Sack’s cries carry through the house. She jumps, perhaps a bit too quickly, leaving Bo to sink his head into his cupped hands, as he contemplates his embarrassment.
She has been gone but five minutes, and upon her return, she finds Bo sound asleep, buried beneath a mound of several covers. And she sighs. And prays for a better performance tomorrow.
:::
John grasps his toothbrush, searching for the paste. Marlena is in the shower, humming to herself an unidentifiable tune. And still he searches, through the drawers, and upon the counter several times, before shaking his head in confusion.
“Marlena, honey?” he calls out, “Have you seen the toothpaste?”
“What?” she calls above the blast of the shower head.
John comes up close to the shower door, “I said, ‘Have you seen the toothpaste?’ I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
“Oh why didn’t you say so?” Suddenly the glass door slides open and a small hand darts out, only to bring John back inside the shower with it. A sly Marlena holds up a tube of toothpaste, “Where you looking for this?” she murmurs, her head moving closer and closer, until the distance is closed.
And the toothpaste is forgotten.
:::
“Bo?” Hope calls out, “Come down, breakfast is ready!”
Though last night was a large disappointment, Hope is determined to make use of extra morning minutes.
A large rustle is heard in the living room, before a dressed Bo springs forth into the kitchen. He is quick and purposeful as he zones in on the cup of orange juice she has set out for him, and he drinks it in less time it took to serve.
And just as quickly as he came, he is running to the door, “Sorry-can’t-talk-in-a-hurry-late-for-work!”
And again, she is alone. But this time, she cannot control the holler of frustration that she feels.
:::
Marlena comes to the door. It is seven pm, and she is ready. Since yesterday, she has had nine sexual encounters with John, and she has never been more satisfied in her life. As she is about to ring the doorbell, the door swings open, and a slightly frazzled Hope greets her.
“Eleven!” Hope quickly shouts, her face tight with what she hopes is a smile.
Clutching her tally sheet, Marlena’s face falls a bit, “Nine,” she sighs, showing Hope her markings.
With a disappointed half grin, she steals herself for what’s coming, “Alright you wi-” the pounding of Bo’s work boots from behind disrupt her. Turning, she looks at Bo with a certain respect, “So, Bo, I heard about-“
Bo’s eyes widen with shock as he looks from Marlena to Hope repeatedly, “I can’t believe you told her!” he booms, and looks at Marlena, as if to explain, “It happens to a lot of guy’s, alright?!” and he storms away upstairs to wallow in his own self-pity.
Suddenly the truth dawns on Marlena, and rather than speak, she fixes Hope with a glare and shake of her head.
With a fist, Hope lightly pounds her head, and it causes her agony to admit defeat, “What do you want me to do…”
:::
Bo and Roman drive slowly down the residential street. They sit in silence and enjoy the relative peace inside their police car, when the static of the radio begins to crackle, before a call comes in reporting that of a “naked woman found on Gilman Drive, she is unarmed, but could be dangerous. Possibly mentally unstable”
They are very close to Gilman Drive, and as they turn into said street, they see a small crowd of onlookers and busybody’s who seem entranced with an unknown attraction. As the car approaches, the people clear a path, until Roman stops the car to get out and proceed on foot. Bo laughs his amusement. It’s not everyday they get to arrest a mentally unstable naked person. Bo addresses the crowd, “Alright folks, that’s enough, nothing to see here.”
Several people groan their disapproval, but comply, and the crowd thins until the attraction is visible. There, on the street corner, is a nude woman, jumping rope. Bo’s grin lengthens, as he approaches the woman from behind, “Ma’am, I’m afraid you’re under arrest for lewd public display. We’re going to have to take you downtown..”
The woman stops jumping, and turns around quickly, “Bo!”
Bo is suddenly dizzy, “Hope?!”
Finis
The Jarlena Journal 