I Can Explain Too

This is a sequel to "I Can Explain", a very funny story written by my friend RPSuch. It is written with his permission. Please read his story first, as this won't be clear at all without knowledge of that story. Also, those of you who have read my other stories will think I've lost my mind, more so than usual.

Ever since the events my wife Sandy narrated in "I Can Explain", I have been having some problems managing to do the field experiments that are needed to give a realistic understanding to the events I try to portray in my writing. I knew my story on infidelity would be both physically and emotionally accurate if only I could fill out the gaps in my experience. After all, as I told Sandy a number of times, "You have to live it to understand it."

I had all the information I needed on the female reaction to finding one's spouse in bed with someone else. Indeed, Sandy must have thought I had missed parts of it, as she never seemed to tire of repeating the way she felt that night. In fact, I finally had to assure her I had no need to listen to her discussion of that night any more and she was wasting my time by bringing it up again. What I needed were the gut reactions of the male. I had depended on Gloria to provide those from interviewing her husband after he arrived.

However, Gloria was no help at all. I suppose I should have known that after she called hysterically that same night, telling me Doug had thrown her out of the house. I had asked her if she had managed to take any notes on his reactions but she kept bursting into tears. I really was disappointed in her lack of professionalism. Here she was presented with the opportunity to share not only the extreme actions that Doug was demonstrating, but also her own emotions at being locked out of her own house, and all she could do was weep.

Speaking of Doug, his childish reaction to the scenario Gloria and I produced for him was in itself interesting but almost useless. Granted, his physical violence had allowed me to closely observe the working of the Emergency Room staff on a busy night, but his refusal to answer the simplest question about his feelings without curses and threats gave me no insight into the what a man felt under those circumstances.

I mused that I should have employed a tape recorder, or perhaps a video camera. Naturally they would not do much towards delving into the underlying psyche during the discovery phase, but they would capture the overt emotions. I mentioned it to Sandy that the next time I would do well to more appropriately use technology. Unfortunately, the comment triggered another rehash of her feelings. I couldn't understand it. I had repeatedly told her I had all the information from her I needed. I restrained myself from telling her to shut up, as previously I had let those words slip, and the resulting scene went on for hours. More valuable time wasted.

I did find it very difficult to find another female author to repeat the situation with. Apparently Gloria, or more likely Doug, had been spreading vicious rumors that I was partially responsible for the break up of their marriage. I narrowly avoided being called to court when their divorce hearing took place. In one way I was disappointed, I could have got some great notes on what went on, but I probably would have been too closely involved to record the event dispassionately.

Amazingly, after all her extraneous comments, I was astounded one day when Sandy called me and told me she had solved my problem. She had made the arrangements and I needed to be home that afternoon by 6 p.m sharp. I tried to query her about just who the woman might be, but she refused to answer, telling me it would work better if the whole thing was a surprise. I was a bit uneasy, not being in control of the situation, but I reassured myself that Sandy was aware of what I needed and could be relied upon to arrange things.

An unexpected meeting with my published ran over and I was almost an hour late when I got home that day. I hoped the woman would be understanding. I also hoped, and was rather embarrassed at the thought, that she was attractive. After all, I wasn't doing this to cheat on Sandy. It was purely professional research and I was glad she understood that. But it would be easier to provoke the proper response of the husband if she was good looking.

Noting an unfamiliar foreign luxury car parked in the driveway, I parked down the street. This way only the wife's car would be apparent to the husband when he arrived. I dashed to the front door and sprinted up the stairs.

"Sandy?"

I didn't hear any response to my low-pitched call. After all, I reasoned, it was possible my late arrival had ruined things and, if so, I didn't want to create a disturbance. I was hoping that was not the case. I was grateful to Sandy for making these arrangements. I had no idea how much trouble she might have had doing this but didn't want her to have to do it again.

I did catch murmurs and strange noises coming from the bedroom. Since the door was ajar I walked in without hesitation.

Sandy was on the bed, apparently nude. On her back, her head hung over the edge of the bed, Her lower body was hidden by a sheet. Well, a sheet and the body of a good sized male. One of the strange noises I had heard was explained. It was the slapping noise of their bodies meeting as she matched the thrusts of his lower body with upward punches of her hips.

At my gasp they both looked up. Or at me anyway, since Sandy was on her back her face was upside down to me. Before I could say anything she spoke sharply. "Good God, Johnny, where in the world have you been? You were supposed to be here an hour ago. Stephen has been performing nobly but I think he's about given up the ghost. Another ten minutes and he would be passed out and we would have to repeat the whole thing another day, and lose the initial surprise factor.

"Now I have two video cameras set up. One on the doorway to catch your reaction, the other on me to record the sex here, should you have any questions later. I also put your pocket tape recorder right there at the door. You can record your thoughts on it. Its quicker than writing and I can help you transcribe them later."

I stood blankly in the doorway, still unable to comprehend the scene in front of me.

"By the way, this is Stephen. He works at my office. He's not a writer but he thinks your research ideas are amazing and was willing to do all he could to help you. Perhaps you can use him as a character in one of your fictional writings. Stephen, this is Johnny."

"Hi Johnny. Wow, its an honor to meet you. Sandy has told me so much about you. I'm really proud to be able to help you." As genuine as his admiration seemed to be, I would have felt better had their bodies not continued to pick up speed.

"Just a moment honey," Sandy apologized. She looked up at Stephen, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a wild yell. I jumped as he answered it with one of his own and their bodies locked together for what seemed like thirty minutes, but probably wasn't any longer than one.

With a groan, Stephen managed to finally roll of her and sit up. He held his head in his hands for a moment. He carefully shook it, as though worried something was loose inside. He reached for the clothes on the chair and rapidly dressed. Staggering slightly, he paused to thank me for the opportunity to help me with my story. Rather shyly, he asked if I would please let him know when it was published as he wanted to save copies of it. I wanted to assure him I would, as any author can always use another fan, but I seemed to be suffering from speech loss and could only nod. He smiled wearily and descended the stairs, clutching the handrail as he went. I heard the door shut and the car drive away.

Sandy had collapsed onto the bed, the sheet still across her midsection. She opened one eye, rolled onto her stomach to look at me right side up and frowned at me.

"What are you doing just standing there? Get busy. Write things down. The cameras captured your physical reactions but you need to write down the emotional ones while they're still fresh in your mind. Good Lord, Johnny, I've just spent two hours having sex with Stephen. I think I'll be sore for a week. While I suppose I could do it again if you really needed me to, I'm sure that the emotional reaction wouldn't be the same as it is now."

I found that I couldn't even talk. I felt my mouth open and close several times without a sound being produced.

Sandy all but swore.

"For goodness sake Johnny, get on the stick. You'll end up watching the whole thing on tape several times at this rate, if you don't get that shocked look out of your eyes and concentrate. You've probably missed significant details."

I managed to make a croaking noise. I wanted to explain that this wasn't what I planned for, to tell her about the shock and dismay I felt when I came in the door. But that WAS the point of the scenario. Wasn't it?

She shook her head. "MOVE Johnny. On the desk over there is the list of questions you asked me when you arranged to have me catch you and Gloria in bed together. I felt I couldn't improve on them. In case you've forgotten my original answers, they're over there also."

Finally I managed to speak. It wasn't brilliant. "How could you?" I felt like an idiot. "I mean, I thought that you were setting up something... that is... I didn't think that you would..." My voice trailed off. Somehow I didn't think this was the time to bring up that I thought she was setting me up with another married woman.

"What are you blathering about?" She demanded. You've been telling me you needed to know this for your story. And after all, as you always tell me, 'You have to live it to understand it'. Now you understand it, just like I do."

It crossed my mind there might be the slightest undertone of satisfaction in her voice. Based on how I was feeling right now, perhaps I should have found another way to research infidelity for my story. It seemed that it was rather disturbing to find one's spouse with someone else, even more so than I had realized from the previous encounter.

I organized my spinning thoughts and started to ask Sandy another question. Before I could broach the possibility of there being something beside the stated reason for this scenario, she started to snore. I shut off the cameras and sat at the desk. I stared at my wife, her face peacefully angelic and her body glistening with sweat. Then I focused on the questions and began to write.

The End