MUTE
Does he have any idea how bored I am? I've counted the curtain rings three times now. 42. There are 42 curtain rings. At first count, my naked back was jammed up against the closet door and the rhythmic pounding combined with trying to keep my balance made me doubt my mathematical accuracy. But now, lying on the bed and checking two more times, I'm certain of the count. OK, seriously. This is torture. Am I the brunt of some cruel joke? This in-out in-out without any style. No savvy. No pizzazz. Not even a sound. You'd think he'd make some noise. At least a little sigh or groan. His eyes all squeezed shut look like they want to burst open and scream. I wonder what he sees on the back of his eyelids? Is he thinking about the Yankees playing the World Series? Surely that would make him scream with glee. Maybe he's thinking about his ex-wife and she definitely wouldn't arose a vocal admission except for, "no more alimony!" Maybe he's picturing what I look like on the inside. OR he's focusing on how I feel. Or is he just hoping I'm having the time of my life? Actually, I think he thinks I'm having the time of my life. Is that because I made the requisite moan a few times? He's going at it like he's Mr. Olympia for Christ's sake. I keep waiting for that Nadia Comaneci move he did 10 years ago. It was that lightning fast lift and slide maneuver where he got me from his groin to his mouth and I didn't even know what hit me. Which is how I am feeling now because obviously something smacked me upside the head and gave me momentary amnesia. After a one night stand 10 years ago, I'm back in bed with this guy who seriously thinks he's got skills and I couldn't be more apathetic if I tried. Maybe I'll stop moving altogether. Would he even notice? Honestly though, if you really think you're all that and a bag of chips, don't you let out some noise? Don't you give a little vocal bravado to the scene? Don't you at least let the other person, if not the neighbors or the whole block for that matter; know how you're feeling? Maybe this is his unspoken manifesto - he will not be affected by women again. Even when it comes to fucking them. 42. It was definitely 42.
When he's silently done with his display of sexual "skills," he rolls off me. Turning on my side to face him, I see his eyes are open and he's staring at the ceiling. Slowly, I climb on top of him. Straddling his waning flesh. I lock into his eyes with mine…deeply connecting and burning into him. Then, with my bare hand, I whack him across the face.
DEBORAH RACHEL KAGAN