Puppet Read online

  She sat at the breakfast nook and admired the view across the water. Lights from several small fishing villages twinkled along the coast of Long Island. The bottle felt cold and damp in her hand as she poured a half a glass, the wine cooling her insides as the first sip went down.

  She sat quietly, rolling the bottle’s cork between her fingers, absorbing the water view while reflecting on the incredible physical chemistry she and Justin had shared over the last months. She thought of how out of character it was for her to let herself feel such desire and how, because of Justin, she was becoming someone different than the girl she’d always been. She had explained this change to him a number of times, most recently hinting of it on the phone two nights earlier, but she wasn’t sure he understood. If she felt confident that he fully understood her, she’d feel more comfortable embracing her transformation.

  But whether he understood her or not, she couldn’t help feeling nervous. Her past experiences were tame compared to those with Justin, and they hadn’t been considered adulterous.

  All throughout her childhood, Carin had listened to her parents lecture her about right and wrong and Heaven and Hell. Her father, especially, was pious and strict. He was intolerant in many ways but he’d doted on Carin, his only child, and she grew up living to please him. He rewarded her obedience with love and attention, while also preaching the dictum of no extenuating circumstances. Occasionally when he became particularly fervent and rigid, Carin hoped her mother might step in and suggest a less literal interpretation of the Bible, but her father ruled the roost and both women followed faithfully.

  These days, her parents were no longer able to give love and support or lecture her. They’d been killed in an automobile accident five years earlier, a year after Carin’s marriage. Carin’s religion was the one thing that had enabled her to get through the horrific tragedy. She knew her parents were with her in spirit and knew she would see them again. She also knew what they would say now of her relationship with Justin. Her father would not approve. He would demand Carin stop seeing him and take whatever steps necessary to keep her marriage together, no matter how miserable she’d be. And her mother, while secretly hoping Carin might find a way out of her marriage, would back her husband’s point of view and make a show of loyalty by suggesting Carin might not have catered to Kyle’s needs enough.

  If religion hadn’t been important to Carin, she would have ended her marriage to Kyle years earlier. But she shared her father’s misgivings about divorce. Even after her relationship with her husband was truly broken, she had a hard time seeing herself divorced. Yes, she had filled out the papers but she was almost relieved when Kyle ran off and left them unsigned. Only after meeting Justin did she question which sin was bigger—staying in a sham of a marriage long after the love had died or making love with a man she truly loved while technically married to one she didn’t. With Kyle gone now for over a year without even a phone call, she was able to rationalize her lovemaking with Justin more than ever. She began to wonder if there might be a different interpretation of her circumstances than what her church and dad had always offered. Maybe, as Justin had begun to advocate, love conquers all, and it was okay for her to experience these long-overdue pleasures no matter what the Bible said—especially when she was so sure she would never tolerate being with Kyle again.

  Still, regardless of the rationalizations she provided herself, Carin always came back to the black and white teachings of her childhood. Being married to one person while making love to another made her a sinner. It was as simple as that. She knew she’d have to locate her husband and divorce him if she and Justin were to have an honest chance, but she feared Kyle’s reentry into her life, as it might scare Justin away or keep an unwanted Kyle close. Therefore, for now, as in the past, she let the matter of her marriage rest and had faith that in the end things would work out for the best, or at least how God had intended them.

  Carin took a pull of wine and continued gazing out the window. She did her darnedest to let her confusion seep from her mind and think of happier things. She spied a jetliner’s blinking wing lights and prayed it wasn’t Justin’s plane, as her calculation of his return would be off. She thought of calling him on his cell to make sure he had landed but she didn’t want to appear impatient. She didn’t check the arrival time online either, to prove to herself that she wasn’t overeager. Instead she daydreamed about the two of them being inside the very plane her eyes now followed, heading someplace sandy and steamy, where she’d wear bikinis night and day and frolic alone with him for weeks.

  Almost as soon as she found comfort in her thoughts though, she again felt herself getting anxious, realizing the predicament she was in. She tried putting out of her mind the specific thought that had come to her, but it was there and she couldn’t help reliving it.

  It had been a Friday afternoon when she finally caught her husband cheating. The Greenwich School had suffered a water main break and her students were let out early. As a school catering to kids with intellectual disabilities, the administrators had painstakingly put into place a regimented routine and the impromptu dismissal confused many students. There were questions and tears and tantrums as parents and guardians came one by one to pick up their charges. After the last child was safely taken care of, a worn-out Carin was released for the day.

  Driving home at noon instead of four, she knew her husband would be on location as a plumber’s assistant. She planned to scour the upstairs tub and take a long, hot bath. But when she turned onto Drury Road, she saw her husband’s truck parked in their driveway. Kyle had always been unpredictable, but being home in the middle of the workday would be odd, even for him.

  She entered through the kitchen door and immediately heard sounds of sex coming from the living room. Oddly, she’d been hesitant to walk in on them, almost embarrassed to disturb their privacy. She contemplated leaving the house and going back to school to work on her lesson plans, but on this day, for once, she would not walk away from confrontation.

  She arrived in the living room to see Kyle face-up on the carpet, naked except for a pair of sweat socks. On top of him was a chubby blonde woman, her back to Carin, her cellulite-riddled rump rising and falling on Kyle’s unprotected erection.

  Carin yelled, “Kyle!” and clapped her hands sharply.

  As the blonde scurried off Kyle, Carin ran upstairs to the bedroom she shared with him. She slammed the door and locked it, and over the next several hours did not open it no matter how hard his pounding became.

  Twenty-four hours later, she ventured downstairs to find her husband passed out on the living room couch. Pages of the Bridgeport Post sports section were strewn about the floor and several beer bottles littered the coffee table. The lugubrious smell of a Sunday morning tavern hung in the Saturday afternoon air.

  She picked up the beer bottles by their necks, silently throttling each while crowding them onto a Field and Stream magazine. She knelt to the carpet and gathered the leaves of the newspaper, the noise of which brought Kyle out of his slumber. He rolled up onto his side, poked an elbow into the couch, and propped his red, bloated face onto his fist.

  “Carin, it was a mistake. But you have to believe me, it happened only once and—”

  “Shut up, Kyle,” she said coolly. “You’ve been cheating on me for years and you God damn know it.”

  Her choice of words surprised even her. She had never used blasphemy in all her life.

  Over the next half hour, her husband vacillated between telling her he loved her and making it all her fault. Through it all, maybe for the first time in her marriage, she held her ground and demanded a divorce.

  When Kyle finally realized she wasn’t going to budge, he yelled, “Okay! Let’s get a fucking divorce! You’re a prissy little cunt anyway!”

  Five minutes later, he was out the door. He stayed a month in the Bridgeport motel before disappearing altogether. Over the next month or two, Carin kept in touch with Kyle’s mom, who lived an hour north in
Hartford. But each time Carin called, the woman seemed as perplexed by Kyle’s disappearance as Carin was and had little to offer.

  Carin let out a long sigh as she reached for the bottle across the kitchen table and poured herself an inch more wine. She studied the bottle’s label, hoping the diversion would shake her thoughts. Justin had purchased several cases of the Pinot at auction on Ebay, and although she’d never heard of the vineyard, he’d been right in telling her she’d love the wine. Just another thing Justin did for her—chose her wines, knowing instinctively which ones she’d like.

  Careful not to ruin her new manicure, Carin picked at the corner of the label, working at it for several minutes. Peeling it off in one piece, she placed it on the table. It lay there curled like a potato chip as she looked out the window. She spied another jetliner and thoughts of her dream vacation with Justin again replaced the vivid reality of her life with Kyle.

  As the grandfather clock in the study struck eight, the sound of a car door slamming came from the driveway. Carin quickly tossed her bangs and then poured wine into each glass. By the time Justin entered the house, she was waiting in the foyer with a glass in each hand and her robe peeking open.

  “The wine you bought me is delicious, baby,” she said, handing him a glass. “Now take me into the living room and make love to me under that beautiful painting.”

  Chapter Six

  In the weeks after Justin returned from LA, his and Carin’s relationship accelerated at a rapid pace. For Justin, the pace was somewhat alarming, but he had to admit, in temperament and in body Carin was the perfect bedroom partner for him. She was inexperienced but showed an eagerness to learn, and he loved teaching her. Whenever he thought she was approaching the border of her sexual comfort zone, she’d amaze him by rekindling their spark and lighting the fire anew. As it turned out, unlike what the boys of Carin’s past might have thought, she wasn’t a prude or uninterested in sex at all. To the contrary, with Justin she was uninhibited and never short on enthusiasm. He’d talk about things they might try, tickling her fancy with this idea or that, and his green but agreeable girlfriend would bite her lip and make those things realities.

  As for himself, Justin was forever respectful and sweet, but he was also somewhat closed off. Often he was preoccupied with work or his art collection, and he traveled constantly. He’d talked to Carin about some past relationships but had confessed he’d not had a real girlfriend in many years. He rarely spoke of his feelings and was relieved that Carin didn’t push him to be more open.

  Within four months, Carin lived as much at Justin’s beach house as at her own home on Drury Road. During the week, if Justin wasn’t traveling, they’d stay in at night watching movies, listening to music, reading or making love. On weekends, they’d venture out, frequenting art galleries, going to concerts, taking in Knicks games, and of course seeing ever more Broadway shows. Neither Carin nor Justin seemed much interested in socializing with other couples. As Justin explained it, he saw people he cared little about all day long. Being home alone with Carin was his sanctuary.

  * * * * *

  It was a snowy Saturday early in February, the morning light marking Justin’s fortieth birthday. Tiny flakes fell at a menacing slant outside his bedroom windows and the bare birches by his dock shivered in the breeze. Justin shivered too, though from a tickling sensation awakening him. He lifted the comforter from his body and saw Carin peeking up from below his hipbones.

  “What do you want for your birthday, baby?” she asked, flashing her innocent smile.

  “I think you’re about to give it,” he replied, groggily cocking an eyebrow. He pulled the comforter down and around Carin’s shoulders while blinking his eyes into focus.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “I want to give you something extra special today.”

  “Like a pony?”

  Carin giggled and kissed his inner thigh. “Maybe you can think of something even better than a pony.”

  Justin looked out the windows. Four inches of snow had accumulated on the balcony railing during the night.

  “How ’bout we stay in all day and you be my sex slave?” he said.

  He pulled the comforter around Carin’s head and tucked it under her chin as if it were a babushka.

  She giggled again. “That’s what you want? For real?”

  “I like you all geisha-like,” he said. “It makes me feel special.”

  “I’m that way with you anyway, or haven’t you noticed? I’m your puppet, remember?”

  As if to prove her words, she sucked one of his balls gently into her mouth. Justin squirmed and put a hand on her head, watching as she dropped the orb from her lips.

  “Maybe we can call it a love slave instead,” she whispered.

  “We can do that,” he replied. “No sense in getting bogged down with semantics.”

  A lingerie fashion show was the first thing Justin requested from his love slave, and after Carin teased him a bit more with her mouth, she climbed from beneath the comforter and pranced to his bureau. From a recently commandeered top drawer, she picked several pieces of new lingerie and tried on the first of many get-ups.

  “Do you like?” she questioned, bending over a leather chair in a thong and baby doll set.

  “Oh yes, Puppet,” Justin said, finding a second pillow and propping it behind his head.

  He stared at her in awe, admiring her exquisite body. At five-feet-five inches, she weighed a hundred and five pounds soaking wet, which to his delight was most of the time she was around him. Adjusting himself under the sheet, he watched as her amazing breasts hung from her body when bending to scoop a toe into a stocking.

  “How ’bout this?” she asked, modeling thigh-highs, bikini panties and a tight cotton camisole.

  “Mmm…that’s nice.”

  She pouted and purred, bending this way and that, enjoying the show she was giving. Her gaze fell to his lap, where the bulge she had inspired earlier was still tenting the sheet.

  “Did I leave you too fast, baby?”

  “I’ll need you back soon, Puppet.”

  He pointed to an outfit from several now strewn about the bed.

  “Put that one on,” he said, nodding to a pink satin corset with lacy black cups.

  The corset had attached garters and Carin matched it with black stockings with pale-pink scalloped tops, and a diaphanous pink thong. After she put on the outfit, her large, puffy areolas showed murkily through the mesh cups like brilliant stars burning through a misty night. Her pubic hair, recently trimmed to a modest runway strip at Justin’s request, was visible through the mesh of the tiny thong. The look on her face told him that she was as excited to be his birthday gift as he was to receive her as one.

  “I want you to wear that all day, love slave.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “And I want you to make me come four times today, one for each decade.”

  Carin giggled.

  “I’m not kidding. That’s what I want for my birthday.”

  “I’ll try that for you. I’ll be your fantasy girl, whether it’s your birthday or not. I’ll make love with you all day long if that’s what you want. Or would you prefer a pony?”

  Reaching out from the bed, he grabbed her by the wrist and deposited her onto the mattress beside him. She giggled as he climbed on top of her and wiggled as he parted her legs with his. He pulled her thong to the side and easily sank inside her. Carin’s giggles turned to moans.

  They made love with lust and emotion, and soon Justin’s muscles tensed. She wrapped her long legs around his back and closed her eyes while holding him to her.

  “I want to be the one who gives you everything,” she whispered, and the first of four presents was delivered into her.

  It was several minutes before Justin got up to take a shower. Crawling out of bed, he told Carin in a serious tone that he loved hearing that she wanted to be the girl who gave him everything. Then, changing quickly to playfulness, he waggled his penis i
n her direction, and joked, “He wants to be the one who gives you everything too!”

  Carin blushed as she looked at Justin’s penis, so out in the open and unabashedly on display. How different Justin’s sexual attitudes were from what she was used to. Kyle had always preferred the lights off during sex. Even after years of marriage, she rarely saw her husband naked. And here was Justin, strutting his sexy body in front of her as proud as a peacock.

  Carin continued lying on the mattress, lost in thought as Justin showered. The only other time she’d seen a fully naked man other than her husband or Justin had been by accident. She was thirteen years old and walked into her parents’ bedroom on a Sunday morning as her father dressed for church. When she entered the room, he screamed and hunched over, pulled his knees together and covered himself quickly with his hands. But not quickly enough for Carin to miss what he had hoped to hide.

  Her father had continued yelling as she scampered back to her own room. Throwing herself onto her bed, she cowered under her pillow in shame, unable to get the menacing sight out of her mind. As the next few minutes ticked hotly in her head, she felt even more shame when realizing she couldn’t escape being curious about what she’d seen. Up until that point in her life—and later on as well—Carin hadn’t received much guidance about the opposite sex or about sex in general. All she was told at home was that before marriage it was sinful, and during marriage it was a woman’s duty. Walking in on her father led to many unanswered questions for her. Obviously she’d done something wrong but what was so wrong? Later that day, after her father hadn’t so much as looked her way until well after church services had ended, she was more confused than ever. But one thing was perfectly clear—suppressing her curiosity about sex would be a good idea.