Roman Crazy by Alice Clayton and Nina Bocci is out on 9/13/16 and to celebrate, we’re sharing the first thirty pages! Read chapter exclusively on XOXO, Chapter 2 on Alice’s Facebook page and Chapter 3 on Nina’s Facebook page!
I WAS STARING AT A PENIS.
I was staring at a penis, and yet I couldn’t actually comprehend what I was seeing. Which was weird, because technically that penis in question belonged to me. Not in the anatomical sense, but in the marital sense. As in, I’m familiar with that penis, I know that penis, I’m married to that penis, except . . . this penis is in fact, doing something it really shouldn’t be doing.
Which was my husband’s secretary. Correction: administrative assistant. I was reminded of this fact last Christmas when I inadvertently introduced her to my mother-in-law as, “This is Daniel’s secretary.” She took the time to tell me her preferred title, which I appreciated, since I was ever so thoughtful when I came to visit my husband in his place of business.
His place of business where he was currently putting his penis into his administrative assistant.
It’s amazing how the human brain can compartmentalize when in shock. And speaking of being in shock, what they were doing couldn’t be good for that Chippendale antique desk I’d spent weeks scouring the fi nest stores and auction houses all over the greater Boston area to acquire so that my attorney husband would be able to host potential clients in a well-appointed office. An office that conveyed just the right amount of trustworthiness, attention to detail, and values above all, with just a touch of contemporary expertise.
And while I was compartmentalizing on the Aubusson rug, my husband of eight years was fucking his administrative assistant on that very desk. With a penis that belonged to me.
And not just fucking, creatively fucking. As in, bent over that desk. As in, pulling her hair. As in, riding her hard. As in, finding the little man in the canoe and making sure he came. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been creatively fucked by Daniel.
A Sunday afternoon after golf maybe once a month was what I got. Nothing creative. Now I see why.
I quietly shut the door, walked across the room with as much grace as I could muster, picked up the 2013 Red Sox World Series commemorative marble-tipped bat and . . .
Want more Roman Crazy? Head on over to Alice Clayton’s Facebook page to read chapter two: http://bit.ly/2cBCGo2!