Adams’ Apples
15 Conjugal Visits
“MMM. COFFEE. You’re a godsend, Ms. Baines,” I said as I rolled to accept my morning libation.
“Who?” demanded Elizabeth, standing beside the bed and looking as if she was ready to pour the coffee over my head.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” I screamed, scuttling to the far side of the bed. “Darling! When did you get here?”
“Apparently, not soon enough. Who is this hussy you were expecting to bring you coffee in bed?” she yelled.
“It’s not what you think!” I called back. That sounded lame even to me. “Ms. Baines is my administrative assistant and she usually brings coffee in to encourage me to get up. And she doesn’t stand there staring at me when I do. She brings the coffee, yells at me to get my lazy ass out of bed, and leaves.”
“All right. I need to have a talk with this administrative assistant. Bringing you coffee is one thing, but yelling at you to get your lazy ass out of bed is strictly a wife’s prerogative. When and why does she get here on Saturday?”
“Saturday? It’s Saturday? She doesn’t come in on Saturday. What am I doing out of bed?” Elizabeth had begun undressing on the other side of the big bed.
“I don’t know. I expected you to be in bed when I got undressed.” I jumped back in bed and Elizabeth handed me the coffee while she continued disrobing. I took a long sip as my wife was slowly revealed after ten long days away.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here?”
“I’m here to do serious damage to your sexual organs if I can’t fuck you to death,” she laughed. “Don’t you know a woman has needs, too?”
“I think I was near getting Jack and me leave to come home for the holiday. Now if he goes, we’ll have to go, too,” Ramsey said. “Did you know I called the office of our Chief of Staff yesterday and got voice mail saying he’d return on November twenty-sixth? I left a message saying Jack and I were leaving for the holiday and to call on the twenty-sixth.”
“Well, Jack doesn’t need to go home. Evelyn and Lily flew up with me. I hope Jack didn’t have any surprises for her in his room.”
“Jack never stirs until he hears the clink of ice in his Bloody Mary. The poor guy is bored to death.”
“Well, Evelyn will put an end to that. We decided we’d let the government cook Thanksgiving dinner this year. We’ve been spending a lot of time together. In fact… Well, it didn’t seem right to just leave her off to stew by herself with no help for the baby. She’s moved over to our house.”
“Moved in? This is just too much to deal with before sex.” I put the cup down and reached for Elizabeth as she crawled in with me.
“I don’t expect to be disturbed for the next several hours,” Elizabeth said as she mounted me.
“Evelyn, how lovely to see you,” I said when we caught up with the new family in the living room.
“Thank you. Look, Lily. It’s uncle Ramsey. Do you want to hold the baby, Uncle Ramsey?” She shoved the little bundle into my arms and left me stuttering as I looked down into her sleepy eyes.
“Um… uh… Uncle Ramsey?” I squeaked. “Me?” I began dancing across the room crooning to the infant, who seemed to be an appreciative audience. Elizabeth reached for the baby and I turned away. “No, no. It’s okay. Uncle Ramsey has little Lily. Don’t I, sweet little baby?” Elizabeth looked at Evelyn and Jack and all three burst out laughing.
“Where did the dining room go?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, Mattie needed the space for an office,” Jack supplied. “We’ve been eating in the conference room. She’s adapted to the bachelor life here pretty well. I think she’s the only one who actually has work to do.”
“Why didn’t she set up office in the conference room so you could eat in the dining room?” Elizabeth asked.
“The conference room has a door,” I supplied. “Administrative assistants are not allowed doors.”
“Where are the Smiths, by the way?” Jack asked.
“What time is it?” I asked. Until he mentioned them, I hadn’t really missed them.
“Three o’clock.”
“They’re usually out here doing routine checks and making a nuisance of themselves.” I wandered over to one of their bedroom doors, bouncing little Lily in my arms. “Ah. There’s a note.” Jack came over and took the baby while I peeled the note off the door. “It says, ‘We’ve gone home for the holiday. You’ll be fine. In case of emergency, dial 9-1-1.’ Well, Jack, I’d say we’ve gone down in importance.”
“I wondered why there was no one downstairs or meeting us at the door when we came in,” Elizabeth said. “What? Is there no danger to you over the holiday? Terrorists and protesters all take the week off?”
“Apparently so. Yesterday there were half a million people milling about down there,” I said, pointing out the window. “I don’t see a soul today.”
“I hope someone is cooking dinner,” Jack said.
We ended up getting delivery from a nearby Chinese restaurant. We played cards until nearly midnight when Elizabeth and Evelyn took us to bed. Our own beds. Playtime preceded sleep.
The scream that woke me up at five o’clock in the morning sent my adrenalin through the roof. We stumbled out of bed and rushed into the living room as another scream erupted and a woman ran out of Jack and Evelyn’s bedroom. She was quite naked and a pile of clothes lay on the floor. She stopped outside the door and looked back at it.
“Don’t blame me! I was told he was alone and wanted me. I charge double for couples.” She turned and saw Elizabeth and me standing naked with our eyes as wide open as our mouths. “Oh, great,” she said, putting her fists on her hips. “If you two want in on it, it’s $500. Each.”
“Who are you and what are you doing in our suite? And how did you get in?” I demanded.
“Your suite? All I was told was there was a lonely guy in the last bedroom on the left and all I needed to do was crawl naked between the sheets. Who’s in the other bedrooms? Am I supposed to do everybody?” she asked, looking very confused.
“You’re not supposed to do anyone,” Elizabeth declared. “How did you get in?”
“Oh, damn! I should have known. He gave me a key card.”
“He who?”
“That nice soldier. I had to convince him I was good by giving him a blow job. Kind of an agent’s feel.”
“An agent? You mean like a pimp?”
“Yeah, whatever. I don’t work for him. I’m just glad I didn’t have to take his shirt off. It must weigh a ton with all those medals on it.”
“And you were just supposed to come in, crawl in bed, and have sex with Jack?” I asked.
“Who was supposed to have sex with me? You woke the baby,” Jack said from the doorway. He at least wore boxers, but his thin white body topped with the shockingly red hair and beard still made him look like a lit matchstick.
“Yeah. And then stay there till they come and take a picture.”
“Get dressed. Now,” Elizabeth ordered. “Jack, get you and Evelyn dressed and out here. Ramsey, put some clothes on and bring me at least a robe.”
The hooker sighed and started pulling on her clothes as she grumbled. “I’m not giving any refunds, you know. Daddy won’t give me enough money to live on so I keep all I can.”
“Who’s your daddy?” Elizabeth sighed as I handed her a robe and fastened my trousers. The hooker giggled.
“Malkin Muffley,” she said.
“I thought you looked familiar,” Elizabeth said. “That sex tape you made when you turned eighteen.”
“You’re the president’s daughter?” Jack exclaimed. He quickly snapped a few photos on his cell phone as she pulled a shirt over her head to cover her bouncing breasts.
“Yeah. He never admits it, though. I’m Kitty Muffley, adult entertainer.”
“You mean prostitute?”
“Hey, don’t call names. I’m a proud sex worker and sometimes my work involves sex with a client. But mostly, I’m an exotic dancer.”
“A stripper.”
“Do you know how hard we’ve worked to get rid of all those pejorative terms? If I happen to take off my clothes while I’m dancing, that’s covered under my First Amendment rights. Freedom of artistic expression is included as part of freedom of speech. I’m an artist.” Kitty was pulling on knee-high white boots with three-inch platforms.
Jack and Evelyn came out of their bedroom holding baby Lily. Elizabeth slipped back into the bedroom to dress and I started making coffee, scowling at the clock that read 5:22. Once the coffee was brewing, I started mixing a pitcher of Bloody Marys.
“Are you making breakfast?” Jack yawned.
“Yes. Here you go.” I handed Jack a tall glass with a stalk of celery sticking out of the red mixture. “And here. A Virgin Mary for Ev.” I turned toward where the stripper was checking her lipstick in the mirror over the mantle. “Kitty? You want a Bloody Mary? We always start our day with a little vitamin C.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you. Do you have a mimosa instead?” I checked the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne and a bottle of orange juice. I didn’t recognize the name on the champagne. It was something in French.
When everyone had their drinks of choice, we sat in the living room to chat.
“Now, Kitty. Are you telling me that the president wants to get you pregnant so badly that he’d pay you to sneak into Jack’s room and have sex?” I asked.
“Oh, no. Not that old stick in the mud. He wants to get Scarlett pregnant. Scarlett is prettier. Scarlett is quieter. Scarlett is smarter. Scarlett isn’t trashy,” Kitty recited the litany of difference between her and her sister. Then she whispered, “Scarlett is a lesbian.” Kitty laughed and we all joined in. It just sounded so right. “He’s convinced that even if she has sex, it will be a virgin birth. I never talk to him.”
“I didn’t think I’d seen you on the campaign trail with him. In fact, I don’t recall anyone mentioning he had another daughter.”
“He paid me to stay away from the campaign. He didn’t want anyone to know he had a daughter who’s an exotic dancer. Can’t really blame him,” she sighed.
“When is the photographer supposed to get here?” Ramsey asked.
“Oh, they said I’d have plenty of time, so I don’t expect them before six or six-thirty. Morning sex is a big thing for guys. I haven’t been to bed yet.”
The conversation became less probing and before long, Kitty had been accepted as just another member of our strange menagerie. She was holding baby Lily in her arms when the door of the suite burst open.
“What is this?” snapped Colonel Smythe. The ubiquitous lieutenant whose name no one knew, slipped in behind him and started taking pictures of everyone, disappointed to find they were all dressed. He took pictures of Kitty holding Lily. “What do you think you’re doing, mating with random hookers?” he yelled at Jack.
“My wife is not a hooker and we’ll have sex if we want. We’re married.” Jack stood up and towered over the Colonel. He was thin as a rail, but shaking that head of red hair over him was intimidating.
“Then who is this?” he yelled, accidentally pointing a finger at Elizabeth instead of Kitty, who was still happily cooing over Lily.
“My wife, Dr. Smith,” I said. “Colonel, don’t you remember our wives?”
“You! Who are you?” The colonel was running out of steam but was determined to place some kind of blame somewhere for something.
“General! Surely you remember the president’s daughter, Kitty. She’s an old friend of ours and offered to show us around town today. It looks like no one is around anyplace. We thought we’d go to the zoo. What do you say, Kitty? Want to show us the National Zoo?” I asked. Kitty glanced up from playing with Lily.
“Um… sure,” she said distractedly.
“And I assume you are here to take us to brunch first, right, Colonel? We’re all getting a little claustrophobic in here. I understand there is a great brunch at a place called The Smith. Seems appropriate to me. Even has complimentary brunch cocktails. Shall we get going?” I wasn’t giving the colonel much of a chance.
“I didn’t come here to take you to brunch. I came to… uh… because I heard you were unguarded and that isn’t acceptable.”
“Well, invite your guards along with us. Do you have cars for us or should we call a limo?”
The lieutenant had never seen his colonel at a loss for words before. Nonetheless, he called for a limo service and the seven of us piled in for a very pleasant Sunday brunch followed by a casual walk through the indoor displays of the National Zoo. No one wanted to spend time outdoors in the chilly November weather. The small mammal house was a favorite and all the women were squealing about how cute the baby pygmy marmosets were.
Each time we had an opportunity, I pressed another drink into the colonel’s hand. By the end of brunch, Smythe was becoming tolerable. By the time we left the zoo, he was suggesting sights to see. When we returned to Blair House for martinis, it was obvious the colonel wasn’t going any further. The faithful lieutenant helped him into one of the empty bedrooms before occupying one himself. The colonel soon found a very warm and naked Kitty snuggled up to him.
The Lieutenant and I both made sure we had pictures.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
