Conversations 19

I thought about it. I did love Sarah -- completely and utterly. I wanted her to have everything and anything she ever wanted, never mind just everything she deserved.

"So what are you saying?"

"You still don't get it?" he asked, a look of astonishment on his face. "It seems that the reports of terminal vacuity were not fallacious."

I frowned. I didn't really understand it, but it didn't sound good. Those two GCSEs didn't include English, although I could spell the word dyslexia all too well.

"My friend, the greatest gift you could ever give your wife is a ten to match her level." He was watching me pretty closely, caution in his attitude. At least I thought it was caution. I wondered if he thought I would take offence and hit him in the face. Maybe that's why he was cautious. Then again, he was kinda making sense.

"So how do I get to be a ten?" I asked.

He laughed, sounding a bit relieved, and then sighed and put his hand on my shoulder. "Sadly, I don't think that would ever be possible. You see, tens are born, they're not made. It comes back to genetics and evolution. She would have incredible children with another ten, but as a five, you would bring them down to a 7.5 at best. You understand the maths?"

It took a couple of moments, then I realised he was right. Half of fifteen was seven and a bit more. Maths wasn't one of my GCSEs either.

"Intellectually and physically you are pretty much robbing her of the future generations she deserves. That's why I wondered if you were perhaps blessed with a big penis, like I am. Unfortunately, it seems you are fairly average in that department as well. I'm so sorry."

"So how would she get what she deserves?" I was struggling with this concept, but if it was what I suspected, it was making me feel pretty bad inside. It seemed he wasn't calling himself a big penis, as I'd first thought, but that he had one. I didn't see it made much difference -- Sarah seemed to like mine as it was.

"Inevitably, she would seek one out. She loves you, but the whole of nature -- every gene in her body -- would pressurise her to get the very best she could in order to pass superior genetic material on to her offspring. She would find herself a ten."

"And?"

He seemed so sorrowful. "And she would probably end up carrying that man's child."

"While she was married to me? You think she would cheat on me? Don't be so fucking nasty!"

He squeezed my shoulder, looking so sympathetic. "I'm afraid it's how life goes. She would hate the cheating part of course, as it would probably destroy your marriage. She is too good a person to accept cheating on you and forcing you to unknowingly raise another man's child as a solution, so she would eventually tell you about it. I know you would have too much pride to accept that, and the two of you will end up apart -- her wailing and woeful at having caused it, and you... lonely and broken, so alone. So alone! Utterly alone."

"Sarah would never cheat on me!" I declared, trying to fight back against this awful prediction of an inevitable fate.

"You keep believing that, Will! Be strong! Fight to the end -- the unchangeable end!"

There were tears in my eyes now. I didn't want to lose Sarah! I couldn't allow that to happen.

"So what can I do?" My voice was a bit wobbly, and I had to fight to keep it calm. "Is there nothing I can do?"

He shook his head sadly, and then paused, raising a finger into the air. "Wait... Of course! That's it!"

"What's it," I mumbled.

"It's simple. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. If she doesn't cheat, then the marriage wouldn't break up because she wouldn't feel guilty. You have to give her permission to do this. No! Even better, you find her a ten and help her fulfil her evolutionary destiny!"

"Huh?"

"You persuade your wife to... go on a date, let's say. With a ten. When she returns, she will be happy and content, and your marriage will survive. Oh I'm so glad we found the right solution for this problem. You were lucky you came to me about it."

"I didn't come to you. You just stared at my dick."

"Equally lucky for you," he said loudly. "Oh, thank God you came to the right solution -- unless you can see any other way of avoiding this break-up, this utter destruction of everything and everyone you love, to face dying alone. All alone!"

I wished he would stop saying that. I'd been alone, apart from my family, for most of my life. Being with someone, with Sarah, was infinitely better. I shook my head, thought some more and then nodded.

This time he put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a good squeeze. I wasn't comforted much.

"Now all we have to do is find the right man," he said.

"A ten?"

"Of course."

"I don't know any tens apart from my wife."

"Well, you have me," he enthused. "I can help you look, or... well, I'm embarrassed to say so, but people keep telling me that I'm a ten. Of course, I'm too modest to accept that approbation, but I must admit, they're probably right."

"You?" I think the tone of my voice probably showed my disbelief.

"That's what they tell me," he said smoothly, although his eyes had narrowed at my response, so he was probably a bit upset.

"I've never heard anyone say that," I commented, trying not to upset someone who seemed to be looking out for me. "Although I do tend to stick to my computer station here at work, and don't chat too much with the others."

"They probably didn't want to upset you," he said sharply. "By the comparison, I mean."

I nodded. He was probably right.

"You're sure you're a ten?" I asked.

"Look at me," he ordered. "Take a really good look. I'm big and strong -- I played rugby for the university, you know. I'm told I'm very good looking, although I wouldn't say that myself, of course. I have a brilliant brain and have two degrees from Oxford, although I never, ever tell people about them, of course; modesty prevents it, as it would be too much like bragging and I'm a very modest person. I'm very, very healthy -- always have been. So I'm packed full of the greatest genes you can possibly get."

I was feeling ill. Is this what Sarah deserved? Is this what she needed? It didn't feel right in any way whatsoever, but Aiden had to know what he was talking about. After all, he'd said he had degrees; actual university degrees! I just had a high school certificate for two subjects. I was proud of them, but I knew it didn't make me smart.

I loved her. I didn't want her to have sex with someone else. I wanted to keep her just for me, but if I loved her, didn't that mean I should give her the very best that I could manage? And if I couldn't manage to do that myself, shouldn't I try and find someone who could? But I really didn't want to!

I could feel tears start in my eyes as I tried to work out this problem. I understood it, and I understood the answer, but I was desperate to find something else -- anything other way, anything except this.

I think he noticed how I was feeling. "It's so sad that this is the way forward for you, your wife and your marriage, but it's lucky we are of the same mind on this. Of course I'm glad to help out in any way I can. They say charity begins at home, and I'll be glad to do what I can. Of course, I'll be very discreet."

"Discreet?" His words were starting to jumble in my head and that old ache was coming back -- the headache I sometimes got when I had to come up with an answer I just couldn't see. It used to happen a lot before I met Sarah, but, just by being there for me she made that go away. She seemed to make the answer so clear every time I got stupider than normal. She said it was pressure that did it. I joked that it was pressure on my brain that had got me the way I am. She didn't think that was funny.

"Naturally I'll be discreet, if that's what you want. I would never mention anything about this to anyone ever -- especially not to the lads around the water cooler. Especially them. You wouldn't want everyone in the office to know your business, would you?"

His smile seemed off again, as if it didn't quite mean what it was supposed to, but I just couldn't read it.

"No, I don't. It's my private business."

"Exactly! So don't worry about that. Now, what would be the best way forward, do you think?"

"I think the best way would be back to my desk so I don't get behind on my work."

"That would be the right thing, but not the wise thing," Aiden said.

"No?"

"No. What you should do is give your wife a ring and tell her your idea. You would probably have to persuade her to accept your gift, so you'll probably need to put a little pressure on."

"I don't like pressure. Why don't you tell her the idea?"

"If I explained it, she would probably immediately see the advantages of... er... having a date with a ten. I'm proof positive of that. But she wouldn't understand that this is a great gift that you are giving her -- a gift from the very bottom of your heart."

"She might not even like you."

"Oh I think she will. We had a dance or two at the party, and we got to be firm friends. Tens usually get along well together -- it's nature, like I said. So if you tell her about the gift and then tell her you think you've found the right person and that she and I should get together, your gift will be wrapped and ready to go for her."

He clapped me on the back. "You're a great man, Will. You also have a great mind, as demonstrated by this idea. Not many people see that, but I can, and I can recognise the truly loving husband and wonderful friend to her that you are -- even as a five. So what do you think would be the best way to approach it? I mean, you know her better than most, so you must know how to persuade her."

I told him I'd think about it.

An hour later, I approached his desk, my cell phone in hand.

"Sarah asked me to show you this message."

He took it and started to read as I stared out of the window, feeling completely numb apart from the place where I'd torn the heart out of my chest. The pain was incredible.

I knew what the message said. It spelled out misery and despair.

"Wow," Aiden said softly, as if talking to himself. His eyes were very wide, so I guess he was surprised. "So quickly? I knew she was impressed, but we must have really connected at the party."

He turned to me, and showed me the screen of the phone. "You read this?"

I nodded.

"She wants us to get together tonight. 'Hilton, room 202. 6:30pm tonight. It's booked. Pay for the room and be chemically ready for fun and games. My sister-in-law has never had a ten and wants to join us. No real man would turn that down, so I shall expect you to be ready and willing. This is a once-off, and we will never speak of this again.' This photograph, this is your sister?"

I nodded again. Her wanting to be there seemed to make things even worse. It didn't make sense, but it seemed to me that I had become smaller because of it.

"That's Amy, my younger sister. She's not married."

"Okay. Wow. A threesome. Must be Christmas. Some gift! Aiden has obviously been a good boy."

"It's my gift to Sarah, not you!" I said sharply.

"Of course, of course," he came back smoothly. "That's what I meant. Will, you are truly a... unique person. I mean that in every sense."

That smile of his bugged me. The more I saw it, the more I thought it looked like a sneer.

"Well, how about that." He shook his head, barked a laugh and cleared his desk. "I'm going to take off now and get ready. I'll need to be rested and ready to be worthy of your gift to her. See you, buddy."

He walked away, and I had to run after him to get my phone back.

"Of course," he said, handing me the phone. "You run along now and have a... a great evening, and I'll make sure that everything goes just fine for my... your ladies. You're so great. Really great. In fact, we make a great team, you know that? You're an amazing cuckoo clock, keeping things ticking, and I'm a wonderful salesman. I think I might start selling coal to Newcastle. That might be profitable for the company. I'll propose it at the next sales meeting."

He walked away, chuckling hard. I went back to my desk, and for the first time, just couldn't concentrate on my work, staring at the blank screen and seeing myself reflected in the darkness.

It hadn't been much of a conversation with Sarah. I'd done most of the talking, and she'd just asked a question now and again. She didn't seem to remember Aiden from the party, and I'd had to describe him for her. Then she seemed more interested. She did sound a bit emotional when I'd described the thing about the levels and how she was a ten and I was a five and our babies would just be seven plusses so she needed another ten to have level 20 offspring for her genes.

I think I got a bit mixed up, but I got the message across, wishing and praying that she would say it was never going to happen. But she didn't. She asked if this was what I wanted, and when I said I did, I tried really hard not to let my voice wobble. She deserved the very best. That's what I had to think about, not how much it hurt.

When I got home, yawning all the way on the train, like I always did when I was upset, the house was empty and didn't feel much like a home any more. I felt really tired and didn't feel like making anything to eat, so I sat on the sofa to wait, but quickly fell asleep instead.

When I woke up, Sarah was sitting next to me.

She put her hand on my arm, and I jerked away before I realised what I was doing.

I sat up and looked at her, seeing the sorrow in her eyes, but also noting the little black dress she was wearing. Beneath the perfume she wore, I could smell a hint of sweat. She had been working hard, it seemed. It made me feel even sicker than I had been.

She tried to put her hand on my arm once more, and I tried so hard not to flinch, trying not to let her see how much I'd hated giving her the gift. I hunched my chin down on to my chest, so she wouldn't see my face.

Sarah sighed, picked up the TV remote and pressed a button. The telly lit up.

I guessed she didn't want to talk about it, and we were just going to watch telly. I was glad. I didn't even want to think about what she'd...

She tapped on her phone, and there -- on the television in full colour -- was Aiden, sitting on the side of a bed -- a big double bed -- and smoking a cigarette.

"Very kinky to record this," he said. "I like it. A memento of an important occasion."

"My husband's gift," Sarah said.

He sniggered. I hated him even more, and felt a huge upwelling of bad emotion in my gut. I didn't care that he was trying to help me. I hated him.

"So you don't mind us recording it?" she asked.

"Knock yourself out," he said with a wide grin. "I'll make sure I put in a good performance for the record."

"You like us recording it?" It was my sister's voice.

"Sure, why not?"

"Sarah, please," I said, that bad-filled gut of mine heating up to offer some real pain. "I don't want to watch this."

"You need to," she replied. "It was your gift, remember?"

"Yes," I replied, trying not to let my voice tremble. I didn't want to spoil it for her. It was a gift, given freely. If I showed how much I hated it, it would be like taking back that gift. It would be mean. I didn't want to be mean to her. I loved her.

Sarah's voice came from the telly once more. "So, you reckon you're man enough for the two of us?"

"Hah," Aiden laughed. "You two are going to be like putty in my hands. Little girls faced with a real man for a change."

"You're feeling pretty confident," cooed Amy, who drifted into the shot to sit next to him and rub his arm.

"It wouldn't be my first threesome, so don't worry about it."

Sarah appeared, looking so beautiful in that dress, and sat down on his other side.

"I'm not convinced," she said. "Two women like us? I'm not sure that you could handle what we'd bring to this."

Amy giggled and raised her eyebrows at the man on the bed.

Aiden seemed to take it as a challenge. "Bring it on, sweet cheeks! I can take whatever you've got!"

While Amy rubbed his thigh, he kissed Sarah, his mouth working against hers, and I felt as if I was going to throw up.

"Sarah!" I could hear the whimpering plea in my voice. "Please don't make me..."

"You have to, my love," she whispered, the grip on my arm tightening.

Onscreen, Amy grabbed his chin and pulled him away from Sarah. She gazed into his eyes.

"Nope. I really don't think you've got what it takes, little man!"

For a moment I thought she might rescue me from this nightmare, but then she kissed him as well. It was better than watching him kiss my wife, but not by a whole lot. I tried to remind myself that it was all about the numbers; all about tens.

When Amy drew back, Aiden laughed delightedly.

"I can take whatever you can dish out!" he boasted. "I'm the best you'll ever have - a real man, not a reta..."

Sarah slapped him hard enough to stop him talking, and then laughed, that deeply infectious laugh that drew me to her in the first place.

"We might need an advantage here," she said to Amy, and drew her scarf off. She turned back to Aiden. "He might be too much man for us."

She turned to him. "Both of us together. You like it kinky."

"Sure I do. Who doesn't?" he said, a swagger in his voice.

Onscreen, Sarah pursed her lips and then shrugged. "Okay then. Let's see."

Her scarf was a long, silky piece of red material, which seemed to almost vanish in her hands as she twisted it up. She made a loop and threaded it over Aiden's left hand, then drew it back to the bedpost, tying it there.

"Oh yeah," said Amy, looking around the room. Not seeing what she was looking for, she looked frustrated, and then grinned. She drew her skirt up, revealing little black panties that only just covered the important bits, a garter belt and black stockings. As the man on the bed goggled at her with anticipation, she drew her leg up and quickly rolled the stocking off her left leg, and then repeated Sarah's action with Aiden's right hand, tying it securely to the other post.

"Oh, this is going to be great," he said, his grin bigger than ever.

"This is going to be better than great; it's going to change your world," promised Amy.

The heat and pressure in my stomach rose to my chest and I began to cry. Sarah paused the video by tapping on her phone. I never knew understood how she got things on her phone to show on the telly.

Her grip on my arm changed to a rubbing motion. I didn't feel comforted as I looked at her image hovering over him, her hands reaching towards his groin.

"Breathe," she whispered to me. "Breathe!"

I realised I'd been holding my breath for a long, long time, and released it in a loud gasp, taking in several noisy breaths, and feeling my vision steady once more.

My wife reached for her phone again. I heard myself make a little noise.

"No more, please. I don't want to watch this."

"You need to, honey."

Her voice sounded normal, as if she loved me, but she had to know she was torturing me, surely?

It took real effort to turn my eyes to the screen once more.

The video continued, Sarah and Amy dragging Aiden's trousers down and off, throwing them to the side of the bed. Both made appreciative noises as the bulge in his underpants pulsed. Amy patted the bulge and it responded with a little leap.

His underpants went next, and I was faced with the horror of seeing his cock rise steadily into an erection, right in front of my wife and my sister.

Their appreciative noises got louder. Sarah stroked his stomach, while Amy sucked on a finger, making a production of it. Eventually she stopped and lowered her hand went between his widespread legs, where it disappeared under his balls. After a moment, Aiden visibly jolted suddenly.