Only her hairdresser knows for sure
**
Melissa was a babe. Short and stacked, with a pretty face that looked up at me adoringly. She was the perfect wife, the perfect life partner, the woman I wanted to grow old with. Before all that, however, we wanted children, and I was having a lot of fun trying to knock Melissa up. We had been married seven years, and we had a nice group of friends, and we lived close to Melissa’s family. Melissa’s mom, in particular, was chomping at the bit for us to give her some grandbabies. I even worried that when we actually had a baby, we’d have a custody battle with Melissa’s mom.
Despite all of our friends, and her family right there, Melissa’s closest friend seemed to be her hairdresser, Brandy. She and Brandy were thick as thieves, and they gossiped like there was no tomorrow. I enjoyed that Melissa had made such a good friend. Brandy, it seemed to me, was a sweetheart.
Melissa used to tell me about her discussions with Brandy. They’d talk about the best bars, the nicest clubs, the restaurants that gave good value, the meager tourist sites in the area, and whether or not Aruba was the best choice for a Caribbean vacation, to name a few.
“Do you ever talk about sex?” I remember asking her.
“Mark! How could you ask such a question!” Melissa had replied.
“Nevertheless, do you?”
“Yes, of course, but any details are covered under the hairdresser/client privilege, and you’ll never hear about them!” Melissa said.
“I hadn’t heard that the Supremes had extended the lawyer-patient privilege rule to beauticians?”
“Well, I can’t help it if you’re not up to date. It’s the famous case Kardashian versus the State of California,” Melissa replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“So, you’re not going to tell me anything, I guess?”
“Only that Brandy is having a hard time with men, and I try to help her, and that’s ALL you’re going to get from me!” she said.
I teased a little more, and Melissa stopped me cold when she said, “Okay, okay, be that way. I’ll spill, under your third degree. The truth is, the dark secret you so want to know, is that Brandy uses Kotex Pads (sanitary napkins), and I use tampons. There; happy?”
Far be it from me to have my sweet wife violate the hairdresser/client privilege any further than she already had! I dropped the subject, and had another swig of my beer.
Well, when everything is good, something inevitably will go wrong. This time, it was my job. Maybe it’s always one’s job. I went into a depression, and it affected all sorts of things, including my self-image, how I thought Melissa viewed me, and, of course, my sex life. I had trouble getting an erection, and that’s all I’ll say about that! I was so depressed that Melissa started going alone to the parties we were invited to. I’d stay home and wallow in self-pity.
Two things happened simultaneously. I finally got a prescription for Viagra, and I got a new job! It paid more, too. It did have one flaw, however: It was in southern Wisconsin, and we lived in central Indiana. It was a solid six-hour drive to the new job, and that’s if I didn’t stop for coffee, to urinate, for snacks, or for gas. Plus, there was 80 miles of Chicagoland I had to drive through (yes, I clocked it on my odometer), and so I had to time my drives to avoid the worst traffic.
Melissa didn’t want to move. After all, she herself had a good job right there in Indiana, plus we lived close to her family, and we had a vast collection of friends. Finally, there was Brandy: Nobody else could conceivably take care of her hair like Brandy could!
So, after a bit of a fight, we became a commuting couple.
I got a nice apartment in southern Wisconsin. Melissa helped me choose it, and outfit it. I became Melissa’s weekend lover. It wasn’t easy, driving home on Friday nights, and back to Wisconsin on Sunday nights. We partied our hearts out on Saturday nights, and I continued my quest not to find the holy grail, but to knock up Melissa. Trying to knock up Melissa was more fun, in any event!
It was a draining life style. I almost got into accidents twice, and one time I even fell asleep while driving. Thanks be to God, and the Highway Department, that they have those bumps at the edges of the highway. More than once they woke me up as my Kia Sonata would drift over onto them.
One near accident woke me up to the risks I was taking. I was also putting other people at risk. Sleepy driving is just, quite simply, not a good idea! So, when I was sick, or just too exhausted, I’d take a weekend off, and just stay in Wisconsin, while Melissa would remain in Indiana. We thought about meeting in Chicago, but Melissa hated driving, and she hated driving a lot when it was in a big city. Plus, the hotels in Chicago were expensive, and we were still a bit under water vis à vis our credit card bills.
Melissa was a country girl, through and through. She was not the kind of girl who would enjoy a weekend in Chicago, even if the shopping was magnificent. What truly convinced me of her country girl nature, was when she once told me the first time she had sex, real sex, was in a corn field. What a way to get deflowered! That story was one of my favorites of Melissa’s sexual exploits before we were married.
Another one of Melissa’s adventures when she was young and having fun, was skinny dipping. A bunch of friends all went skinny dipping in James’ pool. James was one of the rich kids. She ended up fucking two different guys during the skinny dipping, she finally confessed to me. One of them was her boyfriend Ralph at the time, but when he got too drunk to function, and had to go lie down inside, his friend Mike quickly profited from his absence and seduced my sweet farm girl Melissa. It took a while to extract that last little detail from my adorable wife.
Melissa was ashamed to have let two guys fuck her at the same pool party. She was not ashamed, as near as I could tell, about having cheated on her boyfriend Ralph. “Ralph and I were only going steady”, she explained, “but it’s not like we were married, or anything. I was just having fun.” She added, “It was fun to see Mike’s face when I told him he had just had sloppy seconds. I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head!” she said, and then giggled to herself at the memory of it all.
That was all long ago, and long before she settled down and married me. Melissa’s explanation for her behavior was always the same: “I’m a farm girl, Mark! That’s what farm girls do.”
Technology was our friend, especially Facetime on our iPhones. It was as if Melissa were right there, with me, and I could read her emotions in her face as the words came out of her mouth. Naturally we succumbed to the inevitable, and occasionally Melissa would give me a treat and Facetime me while she was topless. I loved it! Usually I’d use Quicktime to record a Facetime call with Melissa, and then I would re-watch it to accompany some solo time to myself, before bed. I’d always get a good look at her goodies; Melissa was generous that way.