Selena Kitt: Coupling Two .More Filthy Erotica for Couples

She swallowed hard, her lip trembling. She knew he was right but she didn’t understand it.

“Sometimes I think you pull stuff like that little Helen Keller incident downstairs just to sabotage me.” Rick rubbed his eyes with his thumbs. “What I really think is that you just want to find a way to blame it all on me when it’s fucked up.”

“Oh, Rick…” Laura felt something break open in her chest. It was like an iceberg dislodging from a glacier. “Oh my god…”

“And we’re failing right now.” He looked sad. “We were supposed to do this practice, and here I thought it would bring us closer. I’d finally get to hear what you want… and what happens?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered with a sniff.

“You know how often I’ve heard you apologize over the years?” He sat forward in the chair, hands laced together between his knees. “I think I can count your apologies on one hand.”

She didn’t look up at him. She couldn’t.

“I think I deserve that apology,” he said. “In fact, I think the entire cafeteria deserves that apology.”

“What?” she whispered, her eyes wide.

“Come on.” He held out his hand to her. She shook her head, but she let him help her up.

“My shoe,” she said, limping along.

“Forget it,” he replied, and she sighed, kicking off her other one, following him barefoot. “And you can stop talking. We’re still doing this practice.”

She swallowed, watching him poke the elevator button a few times while they waited. The trip down went much faster than the one up. Rick led her back to the cafeteria-she heard the low rumble of talking, the clinking of glasses and silverware.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, imagining how humiliating it would be to face everyone who had witnessed her childish tantrum.

“I said stop talking.” Rick pushed her in front of him as they went through the double doors. “It’s just two words, Laura. I think you can manage.”

She felt faint, and she knew it wasn’t from hunger. The thought of making a public apology made her dizzy with fear and shame. She hung back by the doors as Rick went over to “The Great Gazoo’s” table. Gazoo said something to the blond man next to him, who took off.

Pacing, she watched them talking, Rick squatting down next to Gazoo’s chair, listening to whatever the facilitator had to say. He was doing a lot of nodding. She glanced back at the doors, considering going back up to their room. Lost in the fantasy of escape, she imagined packing her suitcase, checking out, taking a taxi to the airport, changing the tickets.

Rick strode back toward her, pulling her with him as he turned and led her toward the other end of the cafeteria. She saw the tall, blond man Gazoo had spoken to standing there, and with dawning horror, she recognized the thing he was carrying-a cordless microphones.

“No,” she whispered.

Rick looked back at her. “Not another word, Laura. I swear to God.”

The blond guy handed the microphone to Rick and he took it. “Is it on?”

“This button.” He showed him.

Rick turned it on and there was a brief moment of feedback that seemed to get everyone’s attention. He cleared his throat and put the mic to his mouth.

“Excuse me.” He pulled his wife forward as she tried to shrink behind him. “Most of you probably witnessed what happened here earlier, when my wife threw her dinner tray.”

Laura stared at the tiles, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood.

Rick leaned toward her with the mic as he spoke. “She’d like to say something to all of you.”

“Two words,” Rick whispered, holding the microphone up to her mouth.

Laura didn’t look up. She felt everyone’s gaze on her. If she had anything in her stomach, she knew she would have thrown it up. She almost wished that were the case-maybe it would get her out of this humiliating scene. Why don’t you just leave? That voice in her head nagged her. You don’t have to put up with this!

When she met her husband’s eyes, she saw he wasn’t angry, or spiteful, or even gloating. It was as if he could see right into her in that moment, like he knew just what she was thinking and feeling, and it didn’t matter-he loved her. He was making her do this terrible, awful, horrible thing, but he loved her. There was something in that. Her gaze fell on Gazoo in the corner, and she remembered his words: “Trust him.”

With that thought in her mind, she opened her mouth and choked out, “I–I’m… sorry.”

Her husband gave a satisfied nod, flipped off the microphone and handed it over to the blond guy. Rick had her by the hand, heading back toward the exit. Laura stumbled when she heard the first wave of clapping start, turning to look back at the crowd of workshop participants. Some were even standing in their seats and applauding!

She looked up at her husband and saw that he heard too. She had a brief moment of flushed pride but then she wondered-were they clapping because she had apologized, or because Rick had made her? The applause died down and Rick stopped at the cafeteria line.

“Can I get some fruit?” Rick asked the woman behind the counter. She was the same heavyset redhead who had witnessed the tantrum, and she stared at Laura.

“There’s a bowl of it down there,” the redhead directed, pointing, still staring. Laura shuffled after her husband and he stood there for a moment, pondering the bowl of fruit.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and all you have to do is nod ‘yes’ or shake your head ‘no.’ Is that clear?” He slipped an apple and two bananas into his jacket pockets.

Laura nodded a vigorous “yes.” For some reason, her apology had given her a thrill. It hadn’t been as awful as she thought it would be-in fact, quite the opposite. Being humbled was exhilarating. How could that be?

“Do you want an apple?”

She shook her head no.

“Do you want a banana?”

She nodded, smiling at him. He took another banana and put it into his pocket.

“An orange?”

She shook her head.

“A peach?”

She nodded, and he put it into one of his now bulging pockets.

“Is there any other fruit you want?”

A vigorous “no.”

Rick looked over the counter at the redhead, still watching them warily. “How can I pay for these?”

“Just go ahead.” She waved him away.

“Thanks.” He took Laura’s hand and led her back out of the cafeteria. They made the same trip in the elevator up to their room, although this time, Laura noticed she felt much, much lighter than she had the last time.

Rick emptied his pockets, creating a fruit line-up on the dresser. Laura sat on the edge of the bed watching him. Her stomach was rumbling again, reminding her how long it had been since she had eaten, but the ache in her bladder was worse. She had been temporarily distracted from those sensations for a while, but they were back now, with a vengeance.

She reached over and tugged at his suit jacket as he slipped it off. He looked at her, his face a question. She made a small noise in her throat, pointing to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the bathroom was also the same direction as the exit.

“What?” He shook his head. “You want to go back out?”

Laura sighed, pointing between her legs and then back to the bathroom. He shook his head again, confused. She stood and crossed her legs, making little noises while doing what she used to call “the pee-pee dance.”

“Oh!” Rick’s eyes widened. “Right. Just pee?”

She raised her eyebrows, but nodded.

“Okay, you can go.” He waved her toward the bathroom.

She shut the door behind her, sighing in relief as she emptied her bladder. She heard him moving around out there, and now that the physical complaint had eased, all she could think about was the fruit on the dresser. She was starving! She washed her hands in a hurry, barely drying them. She noticed a banana peel in the garbage, and knew he must have eaten his.