"That Fucking Advil"

My head was hurting something terrible. I really needed a fucking advil, that was for sure. The question was whether or not I could sneak out long enough for me to reach the car, where some advil was contained in the passenger compartment. We were all supposed to be enraptured with Don's story, so my leaving might have been taken as rude and/or disinterested, and God knows I couldn't stand my wife judging me for anything. I thought it best just to play it cool - sit patiently while Don continued his ridiculously WASPY story and my head continued to pound like the incessant beat of that Stones track I had listened to the night before."

I could have asked Billy to get it for me, of course, but he was in the back playing with the cousins. Best not to disturb him, lest he splash pool water in my face and call me a pushover. Boy, he really was a spoiled son of a bitch.'

If Sherell were a tad bit older I would have asked her. She was perfect - unassuming, kind, understanding. Literally everything Spawn-of-Satan Billy was not. She was my favorite and I think Billy knew that. It's probably why he hated me, and frankly, I didn't blame him, and still don't.

Anyways, I was really needing that fucking advil, so I slowly stood from the couch, ready to blend in with the surrounding environment. The story Don was telling was from his high school glory days. It was about an enraged moose or something. Apparently it charged at him and almost got one of his testicles, or something. I'm not entirely sure to be completely honest - I usually don't listen to his stories as ardently as everyone else.'

I'm standing now, but Don didn't miss a beat. He continued on with his story as though I hadn't made any movement at all. I tried to slink into the shadow of the overtly large fern behind me, but my wife noticed. She tugged on my pant leg, gesturing back to the spot I had just vacated. I shook my head, mouthing the word, "bathroom", which was tucked around the corner of the living room on the way to the front door.'

I went the other way and got smacked by the fern. Pushing it to the side, I entered the kitchen area. At this point I was regretting coming this way - since I knew it could add up to a minute to my travel time (big house) - and was beginning to wonder whether the direct path might've saved me some trouble.

I sighed, putting my head in one hand and rubbing my temple with the other. It actually started to alleviate some of the pain, incredibly, so I kept at it until I felt something graze my back. I spun around, startled, but it was only Karen - my sister-in-law. She grinned at me, miming a gun blowing her brains out. "I know, right? Don's stories are enough to make me gag. Who is this guy kidding? He's not Rambo, he didn't fight off a mad mama bear or a couple of trained assassinations. And I've talked to Sarah about it; whatever it was certainly didn't go for his testicles either." She laughed, a full throaty one that made me my heart want to skip a beat. "Well, at least it's not the one about the supposed boar-hound he saw in Reno or whatever." She shook her head. "He tells that story like he's Captain Ahab and it was his own personal Moby Dick."

We laughed together this time. "Yea, that one's pretty rough," I said.'

She nodded. "But you didn't come out here because of Don." She gave me a motherly look. "How's your head, David?"

"You know...it's a head alright. Very big, very round, shiny and all that." I threw my hands up. "It's a head."

She crossed her arms. "For a second there I wasn't sure what head you were describing."

"You're such a deviant, Karen," I said, smiling.'

"I'm just honest," she said, smiling right back.'

I'm not going to lie: I had thought about Karen quite a bit. More specifically, I had thought about fucking Karen, or rather, what it would be like to fuck Karen, since it didn't seem super likely. She was married to Don, and Don was a scary guy, but that didn't stop me from fantasizing about her. In my defense, she was a seriously attractively women. Karen had wide hips, perky tits, and wonderfully juicy lips. My wife, on the other hand, had small hips, round breasts, and thin lips that she usually wore in a purse. I liked to think of Karen as the supermodel version of my wife, the deluxe version.

I didn't see my sexual thoughts of Karen as being anything other than normal, and I certainly didn't see it as being a pathway towards cheating. All I knew was that when I wanted to get a little jiggy with my right hand Karen could always be there, in the forefront of my dirty mind. I imagined stumbling upon her in a bathroom, her skirt hiked all the way up, her panties clear as daylight to me, her eyes lit up with a passion that I thought she might possess. I imagined the way her tongue would feel pressed up against mine, and more importantly, how it would feel pressed up against my cock. That would keep me up for an hour any given night. So yes, I suppose you could say I lost sleep over this girl. What made it all the worse was how pathetic my wife was about all of it. I think she knew pretty early on that I had lost sexual interest in her, that she was no longer the woman of my fantasies, no longer the woman I thought about in the turn of the night. I would stay up and think of Karen, and when I had an erection (which, let's face it, was pretty fucking often in those days) I would do my best to conceal it, lying next to my wife late at night. It was totally fucking terrible. I can't even understate how embarrassing all of it was to me, deep down inside. I bottled things up though, so the shame I felt about the whole situation went undressed by me or anyone else. It would have been so easy to talk to my wife about it, tell her it wasn't working. Maybe we could have found our way back to where we were not even a year before.

It didn't happen. Everything fell apart the very day Karen found me in her kitchen. The headache I had felt then was about to get worse.

At the time, chatting with Karen was pretty sweet though; it usually was. She was exceptionally witty for a woman - in a sexual manner. Then again, Karen could have taken a shit on the floor and I might have found it sexual. That was my state of mind in that period.

Karen and I chatted for a while about the state of urban politics in Canada while Don's booming laughter rang out from the living room. She then went into some wonderfully descriptive instances of "Don Bedroom Misadventures", as we had taken to calling them. Quite suddenly, in a rush, she grabbed my hand and pulled me closer towards her. She smiled mischievously. "I have something to show you."

I had no idea what this was about but was excited all the same. My headache forgotten, I let Karen drag me in the direction of her and Don's bedroom. She led me inside, closed the door, and walked into her spacious closet. I followed somewhat anxiously, my heart doing jumping jacks all around the inner linings of my chest. I watched as she reached into a compartment that I hadn't noticed before, one that was sunken into the floor and made to blend in with the carpeting. She shuffled her hand around for a bit, then brought out something small and dark. It looked like a washrag, or a piece of clothing for a young child. As she brought it over for my inspection, I was startled to realize that it was a pair of panties. I almost laughed, stopped myself, then let out a confused chortle. "What the fuck is that, Karen?"

"Anniversary gift from Don." She rolled her eyes. "Could you see me fitting in these?" She frowned, looking somewhat pensive. "He says it would look good on me. Can you believe him? Another thing to add to the list of "Don Bedroom Misadventures".

"I don't know if that qualifies."

She punched my shoulder playfully. "It's close enough."

I reached for the panties. She spun away from me, bringing them closer to her chest. I thought about making an actual effort to grab them, decided against it, and leaned against the side of her and Don's bed. "You know, I think I have to side with Don on this one. They would look pretty good on you. I can see why he'd want to see you in them."

She cocked her head, moving slowly towards me. "And why is that?"

"It's like I said, they'd look good on you."

"Oh, they would, would they?" She phrased it more as a statement. "Well, I'm glad you think so. Maybe I'll wear them later."

"I like that proposition."

She nodded, and that seemed to settle the subject, but the flirtation game we were partaking in was far from over. She bit her lip, looked down and nodded again. "Maybe I have a proposition for you."

I tensed, wondering what she was getting at. "And what would that be exactly?"

She looked me dead in the eye, mirth evident in her pretty eyes. "That you wear these for me tonight."

I chuckled, trying to hide my relief that she didn't ask me what I thought (was hoping?) she would ask me. "That would be a sight indeed."

"A sight everyone needs to see."

"If you say so."

"Oh, I do!" She threw her tiny panties on the bed and sat down. She blew some hair out of her eyes. The effect was cute and rather endearing. "I need something to drink, and quick. I go insane at these...parties, or whatever you call them. It's not even a real party, just a bunch of Don's blowhard friends getting all chummy with him in the hopes of a promotion. It's completely ridiculous; Don doesn't give a shit about that. He'd rather you sell for him, sell a lot, and smooze to the people you're selling to then have you smooze to him in his own home. Wouldn't anyone? These people are so stupid, so stupid! I almost feel sorry for them. Almost. But they give me some space from Don for 10 hours out of my day - so there's that." She looked up at me, seeming to remember I was there. "And then there's you!" She pulled me down onto the bed beside her and threw her arms around my neck. "My only friend." She gave me this practiced doe-eyed look that just about melted my heart. "I'd see you more often but Don doesn't let me. He's threatened by you, I think." She whispered conspiratorially in my ear. "He sees how much you and I talk at these things and it drives him crazy. But that's ok, we can keep doing it."

"Great." She was definitely buzzed, I was starting to realize. That drink she had been talking about was one she had already had.

"You're telling me."

I took another look at the panties. "You can wear those now, actually," I said, wanting to change the subject. "People are swimming."

She scoffed. "What, the kids? And also, I can't wear these to swim! They'd get totally ruined, or shrink even more, probably."

"Your point, exactly?"

She laughed. "Oh, so this was your plan the whole time, huh? Get Karen in the swimming pool in these bad boys?" She picked up the panties.

"Guilty as charged."

She chastised me playfully. "You ought to be ashamed."

I threw up my hands, wondering if there was going to be a point to our conversation, eventually, or if we would keep up this healthy patter until it tired out. "True."

We sat in silence for a while. Our arms brushed against each other and she had her foot resting against mine. I didn't realize we had gotten so close, but I suppose it was my doing as much as hers. We were a few inches from being right on top of each other. After a bit I literally thought, fuck it, and moved my arm around her shoulder. Her hair smelled amazing, and as she leaned her head against my shoulder (clearly enjoying the physical attention I was giving her), I felt my crotch stir. Not now, I thought, but it was too late. I prayed that she wouldn't notice, that it would go back down (just go back down you stupid fucking cock), but to no avail. I could almost hear it giving me an audible, fuck you.

It didn't help that she was sporting some serious cleavage now, in the position that she was in. Unfortunately, it was in direct view of yours truly. I tried sneaking furtive glances every so often, but played it safe more often than not. It was a strange situation, sitting/low-key cuddling with your brother-in-law's wife in their bedroom, while people moved around throughout the house. It was definitely unexplored territory for me, but certainly nothing unwelcome. Innocent flirting was what it seemed to me.

"How much longer will you guys be staying," she asked suddenly, after minutes of sitting in silence.

"Billy will want to spend the night, knowing him. So probably...we'll probably stay till eleven."

"Oh, good." We want back to the silence for a little bit, then she said softly, "I want you to stay here."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I opted for saying nothing at all. I lied back against the bedspread, bringing her down with me. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about how nice it would be to float through it, like an apparition, into the night sky and then, into the atmosphere. It was a fantasy I often had. Oftentimes I had this incredible, overwhelming urge to leave the situation I was in, no matter how much I enjoyed it. Especially when I enjoyed it, usually. Other people might call this depression, but for me it was simply my reality.

I pulled my arm out from around her, and moved it to rest between us. I felt extremely close to her in that moment. It was as if I was truly breathing for the first time that day. The air I so desperately needed was the air I shared with her. I reflected on what this meant while she moved restlessly beside me. Finally she said, "You know that proposition I mentioned earlier?"

(seduction time!) This is a site-sanctioned intermission. I want you, dear reader, to remember the letter 'K'. It is criminally underappreciated. The letter 'C' is useless. Abolish 'C', move to 'K'. Thank you.

"How could I forget." I gave her a sideways look.

"It wasn't the one I meant to ask you."

"Well...of course. You wanted Don to wear the panties, not me."

She laughed, but it didn't seem entirely genuine to me. "Exactly. I would want you to wear something different."

I feigned confusion. "Wear something else during what?"

"During this," she said, shifting suddenly so that she was on top of me. Her mouth was on mine the next instant. We were finally breathing the same air, the air I so madly desired, the air that would give me life, give me happiness. It was air that would keep me...grounded. I didn't want to float away anymore, however much a fantasy it sometimes was. Some part of me always left. I think I may have even lost a part of myself, along the way.

No more. Having her lips on mine was enough to complete me. I was a man reborn, and in my head, the bells were ringing.

Part 2 Next WEEK!!