Linda, who is becoming bored in her marriage, finds herself fixated on the new neighbor who has moved into the trailer next door. Might she be the change Linda's looking for?
Excerpt
Linda hated having to pretend, to fake something she didn’t feel, but
she knew how he was—he’d just go on and on and on, till she wanted to
scream, really, and not from any orgasm, either. So far as she could
say, he was utterly tireless. Sometime, maybe, she’d wait him out, see
how long he really could keep it up. All night wouldn’t surprise her. A
month wouldn’t surprise her, actually.
She began to grunt and to groan, softly at first, and as if it were his
cue, he picked up his tempo, driving harder and faster now. Usually, she
would drag it out a little, she knew it made him happy when it lasted,
but tonight she was tired and her back ached from stocking shelves at
the 7-Eleven. She thrashed her legs and moaned, louder, and tightened
her grip on his shoulders, and, finally, stiffened her body like an
ironing board.
It worked. It always did. She didn’t know how he did it, holding himself
at the ready the way he did, and then able to let go just like that. She
thought there were probably a lot of men who would envy him. She knew he
was proud of it. Probably, if you were a man, it was something to be
proud of. Maybe there were women who would appreciate it more than she
did. Her sister was proud of the way her Schnauzer would roll over or
stand up on his hind legs when she told him to. It was just a matter of
training, wasn’t it?
Maybe you’re just a bitch, she told herself, and did not have to fake a
sigh of relief when he rolled himself off of her.
