It was the biggest fishing trip of the year. Four couples were preparing to spend a week in the woods at a remote lake accessible only by seaplane. The plan was for fishing, just getting away from the city for a while, and communing with nature. Then disaster struck. All at once it seemed, one after the other, for various reasons, all of the other wives dropped out. Given the disastrous news all around, I telephoned my husband, Rick, and suggested that they make it a stag affair and I'd find something to do around here.
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I'd had a couple of busy weeks at work and had just returned from a weekend getaway with my family. I'd looked with a bit of envy at my brother and his little family and got annoyed with my parents who'd made none too subtle comments on my single status at 34.
To me, the more embarrassing fact was that I'd not even been out on a date for years. How sad was that?
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We stood there together, about to go into the bar. He looked me right in the eyes and stared for a minute.
"You sure you're ready to do this?" I could see the look of concern wash over his face.
"Baby," I said, grabbing both of his hands. "This was my idea, remember. You are the one who looks worried. Are you OK with this?"
He smiled so big, I thought his face would freeze like that.
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Their senior year of high school was almost over. Three good friends, Tim, Scott and Jason were all excited about being done with high school and moving on with their lives since they had all turned 18 and were ready for collage. There was just one thing they wanted to do before graduation. There was this certain teacher that they all wanted to do.
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Thursday evening--
"If that sight isn't enough to curdle your stomach, I don't know what is," Mr. Wallace Roberts, the loud, chunky purchasing rep for Llanfer Industries said as he sat directly across from Jon at a bar table in the hotel lounge. "Christ almighty!"
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We are married for more than ten years. We are yet to be blessed with a child. I am Nidhi, a mixed North Indian offspring of a Punjabi father and a Kashmiri mother, I am now in my mid thirties. I have fair complexion, tall, slim and well developed boobs. My hubby Venky, a typical southee, would reach forty in another few months. He is tall and dusky.
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“I never get to do anything exciting anymore,” I grumbled. “Between college and work, I never even go out. And my job is so incredibly boring. Sometimes when I’m sitting there waiting for the phone to ring, I just want to do something depraved – tear off the stupid, prissy clothes I have to wear and go running into the senior partner’s office screaming or something.”
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"Mother, I'm too fat to go clothes shopping! I need to lose ten pounds first, please?" Angelica was in full teenage whining mood, again. This was normal for the girl but in contrast to many parents who would have been driven mad by it, her mother smiled serenely and disagreed.
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In these days of Viagra, and for those of you who lived through the changes in the sixties that brought with it the notion of free love, the research done by the professors of The Institute of Human Social Behaviour at Spalding in the late 1930s must look pretty tame. We did not discover a wonder drug that cured impotency, or proposed theories that encouraged vast changes in the social structure of the western world.
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We were an average couple, married for about ten years, busy with our lives and maybe looking for a bit of excitement. We had discussed swapping partners, or at least I had tried to introduce the topic, but Jill was always quick to change the topic. That's why this turn of events took us both by surprise.
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