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Cathy
 (as
 she
 was
 still
 known)
 was
 bold
 in
 her
 conversations
 with
 Michel
 because
 
she
  wanted
  to
  arouse
  him
  at
  her
  command
  and
  had
  been
  persuaded
  that
  men
 
reacted
 strongly
 to
 such
 imagery.
 Michel
 was
 her
 first
 chance
 at
 expounding
 in
 her
 
own
  terms
  her
  newfound
  sexual
  identity.
  She
  needed
  to
  seduce
  him
  as
  an
 
affirmation
  of
  the
  reality
  of
  this
  new
  chapter
  in
  her
  life.
  The
  fleeting
  thought
  may
 
even
 have
 crossed
 her
 mind
 of
 seducing
 this
 Michel
 person
 and
 dumping
 him
 presto
 
as
 a
 way
 to
 get
 back
 at
 Alexander…
 or
 to
 get
 Alexander
 back.
 Alexander
 had
 called
 it
 
quits
  a
  couple
  of
  times
  already,
  dumping
  her
  unceremoniously
  with
  hurtful
 
monologues
  in
  voice-‐mails
  left
  on
  her
  work
  answering
  machine,
  and
  twice
  come
 
back
 to
 seduce
 her
 again,
 knowing
 that
 she
 had
 no
 way
 to
 resist
 him.
 But
 this
 time,
 
with
  him
  having
  moved
  across
  the
  country,
  she
  had
  a
  feeling
  deep
  inside
  that
  it
 
could
  truly
  be
  over,
  and
  it
  was
  tearing
  her
  apart.
  She
  had
  a
  great
  husband,
  two
 
wonderful
 children,
 a
 lovely
 job
 at
 city
 hall
 working
 with
 the
 community,
 a
 seat
 on
 
the
 school
 board
 in
 her
 posh
 New
 York
 suburb.
 She
 was
 a
 respected
 and
 outstanding
 
member
 of
 the
 community,
 the
 very
 image
 of
 rectitude
 and
 devotion,
 seen
 in
 church
 
every
  Sunday.
  And
  yet
  she
  had
  never
  felt
  as
  alive
  as
  when
  she
  had
  been
  seeing
 
Alexander.
  Even
  her
  marriage
  had
  benefited
  from
  her
  affair,
  and
  having
  dreaded
 
marital
 sex
 for
 years,
 she
 now
 found
 herself
 
 silently
 bemoaning
 the
 lack
 of
 skill
 and
 
endurance
 that
 her
 husband
 displayed
 (the
 husband
 meanwhile
 attributed
 his
 wife’s
 
sexual
 reawakening
 to
 his
 own
 prowess
 and
 felt
 like
 a
 superhero).
 She
 feared
 that
 
she
 might
 lose
 all
 of
 this,
 that
 Alexander’s
 silence
 could
 make
 it
 all
 go
 away
 and
 turn
 
the
 carriage
 back
 into
 a
 pumpkin.
 
 

Michel’s
 measured
 responses
 left
 her
 confused
 but
 not
 in
 a
 bad
 way.
 The
 confusion
 
inevitably
 led
 to
 curiosity,
 not
 bewilderment.
 She
 had
 never
 heard
 anyone
 utter
 the
 
word
  ‘phallus’,
  let
  alone
  a
  man.
  “What
  sort
  of
  a
  person
  uses
  such
  words?”
  she
 
thought
 in
 wonder,
 as
 she
 followed
 him
 in
 the
 careful
 dance
 he
 led
 hoping
 that
 she
 
would
 willingly
 come
 to
 calmer
 shores
 where
 pleasure
 can
 be
 confused
 with
 nothing
 
else,
 and
 eventually
 she
 did.
 To
 her
 initial
 insistence
 on
 a
 rougher
 type
 of
 imagery
 he
 
responded
 by
 turning
 the
 topic
 into
 a
 literary
 discussion
 on
 the
 works
 of
 the
 divine
 
marquis,
 Anne
 Desclos
 and
 A
 N
 Roquelaure.
 The
 next
 day,
 she
 found
 herself
 reading
 
the
 first
 of
 the
 Beauty
 books
 and
  that
 evening
 discussing
 it
 with
 Michel.
 She
 loved
 
books
 and
 again
 found
 herself
 bewitched.
 “What
 sort
 of
 person
 talks
 about
 sex
 and
 
books
  at
  the
  same
  time?”
  While
  she
  had
  vaguely
  known
  of
  the
  existence
  of
  such
 
books,
 she
 found
 herself
 quite
 surprised
 to
 realize
 that
 they
 were
 freely
 available
 at
 
the
  public
  library.
  He’d
  warned
  her
  that
  the
  book
  proceeded
  in
  a
  crescendo
  with
 
which
  he
  himself
  had
  not
  been
  able
  to
  fully
  engage
  as
  it
  progressed
  and
  that
  she
 
might
 also
 wish
 to
 un-‐suspend
 disbelief
 before
 the
 final
 chapter,
 and
 indeed
 she
 did.
 
She
 finished
 the
 book
 the
 next
 day
 and
 soon
 had
 a
 chance
 to
 call
 him.
 They
 spoke
 of
 
the
 book
 at
 length,
 their
 first
 shared
 experience,
 and
 of
 its
 many
 merits.
 He
 found
 it
 
exciting
 and
 arousing
 to
 hear
 a
 woman’s
 reading
 of
 the
 text.
 

Michel
 tried
 to
 take
 life
 in
 stride,
 mostly,
 but
 in
 the
 weeks
 before
 he’d
 struck
 a
 fast
 
friendship
  with
  Alexander,
  he
  found
  himself
  pondering
  the
  possibility
  of
  exploring
 
other
 avenues
 in
 life.
 He
 wasn’t
 looking
 for
 an
 affair
 per
 se,
 but
 was
 clearly
 open
 to
 
the
  possibility.
  His
  marriage
  had
  of
  course
  never
  been
  a
  stellar
  to-‐do,
  but
  as
  their
 
only
 son
 was
 growing
 into
 a
 young
 boy
 it
 seemed
 that
 all
 physical
 contact
 between
 
he
 and
 his
 wife
 had
 ceased.
 While
 he
 was
 willing
 to
 accept
 much
 responsibility
 for
 
the
  situation,
  wrack
  his
  brains
  as
  he
  might,
  he
  could
  find
  no
  way
  forward
  or
  out.
 
Separation,
 because
 it
 would
 hurt
 the
 three
 of
 them
 terribly
 was
 out
 of
 the
 question.
 
But
 the
 corner
 that
 he
 and
 his
 wife
 had
 painted
 themselves
 into
 had
 the
 inertia
 and
 
gravity
  of
  a
  black
  hole.
  The
  relationship
  with
  his
  wife
  had
  begun
  with
  several
 
disastrous
 sexual
 experiences
 which
 they
 had
 separately
 vowed
 to
 overcome
 but
 in
 
truth
 never
 had.
 The
 fact
 that
 they
 were
 no
 longer
 interested
 in
 having
 sex
 with
 each
 
other
  was
  in
  his
  mind
  undeniable
  and
  in
  good
  part
  rooted
  in
  the
  also
  seemingly
 
undeniable
 fact
 that
 they
 did
 not
 enjoy
 having
 sex
 with
 each
 other.
 Such
 findings
 a
 
decade
  and
  a
  half
  into
  a
  marriage
  are
  hardly
  conducive
  to
  optimism
  and
  that
  did
 
lead
  him
  to
  contemplate
  the
  concept
  of
  affairs,
  but
  interestingly
  enough
  with
  the
 
thought
 that
 maybe
 if
 she
 had
 an
 affair,
 things
 might
 improve.
 He
 loved
 his
 wife,
 but
 
love
 does
 not
 always
 suffice,
 and
 with
 the
 thought
 of
 the
 stress
 and
 unhappiness
 of
 
his
  marriage
  turning
  into
  a
  permanent
  prospect,
  he
  let
  his
  mind
  wander
  into
 
uncensored
  directions
  rooted
  in
  the
  dreams
  he
  had
  as
  a
  teenager
  of
  what
  his
  life,
 
sexual
  and
  otherwise,
  would
  be
  like
  someday.
  He
  had
  truly
  expected
  to
  be
  happy
 
and
 that
 had
 been
 his
 main
 ambition,
 to
 the
 derision
 of
 many
 Parisian
 friends
 most
 
of
 whom
 already
 aspired
 to
 the
 traditional
 French
 dream
 of
 a
 wife,
 a
 mistress
 and
 
two
  dogs.
  But
  over
  time
  his
  vicarious
  sex
  life
  turned
  into
  prolonged
  celibacy
  and
 
he’d
  lost
  his
  virginity
  to
  the
  woman
  he
  would
  marry.
  He’d
  had
  dreams
  of
  a
  union
 
endowed
  with
  a
  sustained
  sex
  life
  enriched
  by
  his
  past
  experiences
  and
 
experiments,
 and
 now
 he
 pined
 for
 the
 times
 when
 he
 thought
 he
 would
 be
 happy.
 
Alexander
  had
  of
  course
  no
  idea
  that
  this
  was
  the
  psychological
  backdrop
  against
 
which
 he
 was
 to
 make
 his
 offer,
 but
 Michel
 knew
 a
 sign
 when
 he
 saw
 one
 and
 seized
 
the
  chance.
  He
  immediately
  accepted
  and
  was
  quite
  amused
  as
  over
  the
  next
  few
 
days
 Alexander
 would
 come
 see
 him
 furtively
 at
 work
 and
 half-‐whisper
 injunctions
 
and
 rules
 such
 as
 “no-‐one
 must
 know
 of
 this”
 or
 “don’t
 believe
 everything
 she
 tells
 
you”.
  The
  remark
  about
  how
  she
  liked
  kinky
  stuff
  surprised
  him
  in
  that
  he’d
  not
 
suspected
 that
 Alexander
 liked
 such
 things.
 Then
 again,
 why
 would
 he?
 Men
 do
 not
 
share
  their
  sexual
  preferences
  in
  casual
  conversation.
  But
  he
  had
  to
  notice
  once
 
again
 that
 one
 does
 not
 view
 people
 quite
 in
 the
 same
 way
 when
 armed
 with
 such
 
personal
 information.
 Alexander’s
 apparent
 emotional
 disarray
 prompted
 Michel
 to
 
invite
 his
 friend
 to
 lunch
 for
 a
 serious
 conversation,
 just
 as
 his
 liaison
 with
 Catherine
 
was
  about
  to
  begin.
  Michel
  had
  already
  ascertained
  a
  number
  of
  things
  and
  told
 
Alexander
  as
  much,
  namely
  that
  Cathy
  had
  been
  his
  mistress,
  one
  of
  several,
  that
 
Alexander
 himself
 was
 the
 driving
 force
 of
 these
 liaisons,
 all
 sexual
 and
 flirting
 with
 
forbidden
  pleasures,
  innocent
  surely
  but
  not
  known
  as
  commonly
  accepted.
  “With
 
her,
  I
  opened
  Pandora’s
  box”
  Alexander
  had
  confided.
  “Everyone
  thinks
  she’s
  two
 
steps
 away
 from
 being
 a
 nun,
 and
 she
 was
 until
 she
 met
 me.
 Then
 she
 turned
 into
 a
 
different
 person.
 But
 I
 can’t
 take
 it
 anymore.
 My
 wife
 nearly
 found
 out,
 and
 when
 I
 
swore
  to
  her
  that
  I
  was
  not
  having
  an
  affair,
  I
  meant
  it:
  it
  has
  to
  be
  over.”
  While
 
Alexander
  babbled
  like
  a
  would-‐be
  recovering
  alcoholic,
  Michel
  mulled
  it
  over
 
before
 launching
 into
 a
 stern
 monologue
 that
 did
 not
 call
 for
 response.
 

“The
 first
 thing
 that
 needs
 to
 be
 clear
 is
 that
 you
 have
 started
 this
 and
 cannot
 stop
 it.
 
She
  has
  my
  number
  and
  I
  have
  instructed
  her
  to
  call
  me
  in
  three
  days.
  If
  you
  find
 
yourself
 full
 of
 regrets
 when
 all
 is
 said
 and
 done,
 blame
 yourself.
 Next,
 I
 need
 to
 tell
 
you
 that
 I
 find
 it
 an
 honor
 that
 you
 would
 have
 made
 such
 an
 offer
 to
 me.
 Clearly
 my
 
love
 for
 you
 as
 a
 friend
 is
 only
 burgeoning,
 but
 it
 is
 already
 strong
 and
 I
 am
 moved
 
to
 find
 that
 this
 is
 true
 also
 for
 you
 to
 the
 point
 that
 you
 would
 introduce
 me
 to
 your
 
mistress.
  You
  see,
  in
  France,
  it
  is
  considered
  a
  bond
  of
  friendship
  and
  an
  honor
  to
 
share
 a
 woman.
 It
 is
 remarkable
 when
 two
 men
 are
 so
 similar
 that
 they
 can
 prove
 to
 
be
  of
  equal
  pleasure
  to
  the
  same
  woman,
  and
  it
  is
  a
  powerful
  friendship
  that
  can
 
sustain
  the
  sharing
  such
  an
  experience
  as
  the
  pleasure
  of
  a
  woman.
  Now
  the
 
situation
  here
  is
  less
  stark
  since
  she
  lives
  three
  thousand
  miles
  away.
  There
  is
  for
 
instance
 no
 chance
 of
 meeting
 her
 in
 the
 streets
 while
 with
 our
 spouses.
 That
 seems
 
to
 be
 one
 of
 the
 reasons
 that
 brought
 you
 to
 Los
 Angeles,
 in
 fact.
 The
 chances
 that
 
she
  and
  I
  will
  physically
  meet
  are
  remote.
  So
  that
  will
  make
  things
  very
  simple
 
overall.
  We
  must
  nonetheless
  be
  careful,
  you
  and
  I,
  and
  especially
  you,
  I’m
  afraid.
 
You’re
 the
 one
 with
 the
 most
 to
 lose,
 and
 you’re
 freaking
 out.
 No,
 let
 me
 talk.
 You
 are
 
freaking
 out.
 But
 there
 is
 no
 need
 to.
 There
 is
 a
 very
 simple
 set
 of
 ground
 rules
 that
 
we
 must
 observe.
 To
 start
 with,
 we
 have
 to
 be
 lucid
 and
 clear-‐headed.
 You
 and
 I
 are
 
friends
 and
 I
 am
 most
 likely
 about
 to
 engage
 in
 what
 can
 only
 be
 called
 an
 affair
 with
 
a
 mistress
 of
 yours.
 What
 matters
 between
 you
 and
 I
 is
 our
 friendship.
 Nothing
 can
 
harm
 this
 unless
 we
 allow
 it,
 not
 even
 a
 woman.
 Call
 me
 French,
 but
 if
 a
 woman
 can
 
destroy
 our
 friendship,
 then
 it
 was
 not
 worth
 having.
 If
 we
 agree
 on
 that,
 the
 next
 
part
  follows
  easily.
  If
  you
  wish
  to
  talk
  about
  her,
  do
  so.
  If
  you
  do
  not,
  don’t.
  Just
 
afford
 me
 the
 same
 freedom
 and
 you
 will
 find
 that
 there
 is
 no
 reason
 that
 she
 be
 off-‐
limits
  as
  a
  topic
  of
  conversation.
  But
  that
  takes
  us
  to
  the
  last
  rule:
  my
  affair
  is
  my
 
affair,
  and
  yours
  is
  yours.
  If
  your
  affair
  is
  a
  burden
  to
  you
  then
  understand
  that
  it
 
remains
  your
  burden.
  You
  cannot
  transfer
  her
  over
  to
  me
  and
  be
  done.
  It
  is
  not
 
cargo
 we
 speak
 of.
 By
 having
 an
 affair,
 you
 altered
 the
 life
 of
 a
 human
 being
 and
 you
 
must
 deal
 with
 the
 consequences
 to
 her,
 as
 she
 must
 for
 you.
 If
 you
 are
 lucky,
 she
 
will
 indeed
 be
 distracted,
 but
 don’t
 count
 on
 me
 to
 help.
 If
 my
 affair
 flourishes
 and
 
yours
 does
 not,
 you
 should
 rejoice
 as
 I
 feel
 for
 you.
 The
 reverse
 is
 just
 as
 true.
 For
 
the
 rest,
 if
 you
 ask
 a
 question
 I
 don’t
 care
 for,
 I’ll
 change
 the
 topic
 as
 should
 you.
 But
 
on
 the
 plus
 side,
 you
 now
 have
 someone
 you
 can
 talk
 to
 about
 her.
 Are
 you
 ready
 for
 
desert?”
 
 

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