The Post Crime Spree Sex Was Great. . .

 

The post-crime spree sex was terrific, and I woke up wanting more. It was a Sunday and neither of us planned to work.

“It’ll be nice to have a day together,” said Missy.

Cuddling up, I said, “Won’t it?”

“Yes. It will give us time to talk.”

Something about her tone made me say, “Talking is highly over-rated. I can think of better ways to spend the time.”

“Is that what you told Flower?”

“Aw, man, I knew this was coming.”

I was just surprised it took so long.

“Well, we’ve both been busy, and I wanted to calm down so I didn’t kill you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Let me finish. I was going to say, so I didn’t kill you until I explained why.”

“Ah.”

“Otherwise, I might regret it later.”

“Look, just because Flower is taking care of my ranch and answered the phone a few times, doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Not necessarily, but it might.”

“So, a moot point.”

Staying non-committal was the smart move.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Did you have sex with her?”

“Do you mean in the Jimmy Carter sense where I had lust?”

“I mean in the carnal sense where you did the deed. And I want the truth.”

I gave her some truth. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Come on, Missy. Only a dick would hurt your feelings by admitting it.”

“You’d rather be the kind of dick that hopes I don’t find out about it.”

That sounded a lot like me. Also, like another thing I didn’t want to admit. Lying was useful but frowned upon—but wasn’t lying the honorable thing to do when you cheated on your girlfriend and didn’t wanna hurt her feelings? It’s not?  Why do ethics have to be so confusing?

Missy saved me from further anguish. “Flower already told me.”

It was time to fess up. “She must have been fantasizing. You can’t really blame her.”

Missy rolled her eyes. “Actually, she said she forced herself on you. That you only gave in out of mercy.”

“Really?”

Missy answered with narrowed eyes.

“I mean, would that make a difference?”

That’s when Missy gave up the frontal assault and resorted to something much worse. Logic.

“I suppose you’d like me to be merciful, too. Just let the whole subject slide.”

“Man, would I!” is what I almost shouted. However, I sensed a subtler response would be appreciated. So I went with, “To err is human, to forgive divine.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. So you’d feel divine if some lonely fella needed my tender mercies?”

As usual, Missy had been one step ahead of me the whole time. It was impossible to admit I’d feel divine if she slept with another guy. At least with a straight face.

When I didn’t answer, Missy smiled and said, “Good.”

It was too late to say anything now. It would only make me look worse. And as bad as I looked already, I quit while I was behind.

 

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