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.. – I woke from my numbness, and turned to her, as she was showing me her back, annoyed.- Honey, believe me, I don't want to complain... but I'm really tired. - I looked up at the ceiling - It's not like normal sex: with these people you need a lot of strength. Pull up the chains, hook, unhook... beat that guy, whip his wife... and I'm standing most of the time!- You're gonna pay for this dearly, believe me! Don't forget you've been unemployed for two years, honey. - Marisa replied, turning to face me: her face was terribly upset.How could I forget? Good grief, if it wasn't for her, who had majored in literary studies, we'd been screwed. And yes... Fetish, Masochist, Slaves, Mistresses... they were all very demanding! Extremely pernickety: most of them were cultured, or wealthy people from the bourgeois middle class, and they only wanted to deal with people of their "breed": you could break their asses, but only if you knew Proust or Kant.At dawn, Marisa woke up, and started "giving. People's appearances change considerably over that much time, especially comparatively young people, and visual memories fade.A little later I found how true all this was when they took me out of the line-up, sent me back to an interrogation room instead of my cell, and Richard came in with Jerry Weisfelder and another former co-worker at DOD. I gave no sign of recognition."Jack?" said Jerry, a little hesitantly.I wondered did he still suffer from migraines. No way to ask, though. I smiled in the kind of casual way you do at strangers. "Do I know you, sir?" I asked.My lawyer, who'd insisted on being present as well, frowned at me. "My client has nothing to say," he told Richard pointedly, clearly meaning for me to take the hint. I smiled at the lawyer and nodded understanding. Jerry and the other man, I couldn't even recollect his name now, looked me over uncertainly for a little while and then everybody walked back out. It was apparent they couldn't identify me for sure, and in.
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You did what you wanted to do, I assume, and slept with Matt. I presume that made you happy. I want to make you happy. Ergo, I should sometimes suppress my own wishes, and urge you to do what you want. That doesn't happen too often, so make your own decision and go with it. I think sleeping with another person redefines the intimacy with that person, strengthens the bonds with him – or her, and probably keeps us on our toes with each other. Those are all good things that just might or might not fly in the face of what my ego wants." But that would mean..." Stacy, go sleep with them. It's not an every night thing, at least right now. I get you most of the time. Maybe Brenda or Deb or Kate or someone can snuggle with me – like a night or so ago, if not it's still OK. I have been reacting as though I'm threatened by change. I don't like that. I want to be adaptive to change, to roll with the punches. I want to initiate change too, and some will be OK and some not, but I'll be growing as.

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