The Pleasure of M (2 page)

They
 called
 each
 other
 as
 often
 as
 their
 lives
 allowed,
 usually
 once
 or
 twice
 a
 month,
 
but
 mainly
 they
 corresponded
 electronically.
 The
 frequency
 of
 their
 communication
 
was
  remarkably
  steady
  and
  they
  often
  wrote
  once
  a
  day,
  but
  the
  intensity
  of
  their
 
correspondence
 was
 generally
 dictated
 by
 his
 work
 schedule.
 She
 had
 a
 nine-‐to-‐five
 
job
 and
 usually
 wrote
 to
 him
 from
 her
 office
 when
 she
 arrived
 there
 in
 the
 morning.
 
His
  line
  of
  work
  implied
  an
  erratic
  schedule,
  and
  he
  mostly
  wrote
  to
  her
  in
  the
 
evenings,
  often
  late.
  Because
  of
  the
  three
  hour
  time
  difference
  between
  the
  two
 
coasts,
 this
 meant
 that
 they
 usually
 wrote
 to
 each
 other
 while
 the
 other
 was
 asleep,
 
which
 added
 to
 the
 onyric
 quality
 of
 their
 affair.
 But
 from
 the
 start
 Michel
 had
 put
 a
 
twist
  to
  the
  dream:
  within
  two
  week
  of
  their
  first
  conversation,
  they
  were
  both
 
feeling
 the
 signs
 of
 a
 rapidly
 burgeoning
 emotional
 connection
 and
 she
 mentioned
 
that
 at
 times
 she
 felt
 as
 though
 she
 might
 wake
 up
 and
 find
 that
 he
 did
 not
 exist.
 “But
 
instead”
  he
  said,
  “you
  wake
  up
  to
  find
  that
  you
  are
  still
  dreaming
  of
  me,
  which
 
makes
 me
 just
 about
 as
 real
 as
 it
 gets
 for
 a
 dream.
 Think
 of
 it
 as
 lucid
 dreaming.”
 He
 
was
  reminded
  of
  the
  Offenbach
  version
  of
  the
  story
  of
  Troy
  when
  Paris,
  upon
 
visiting
  Helen
  during
  the
  night,
  assures
  her
  she
  is
  dreaming
  and
  they
  engage
  in
  a
 
beautiful
 aria:
 “’tis
 but
 -‐
 ‘tis
 but
 a
 dream
 of
 Love….”
 This
 was
 his
 realm,
 and
 he
 knew
 
to
  proceed
  carefully.
  His
  European
  upbringing
  came
  with
  a
  thorough
  classical
 
education
 and
 as
 a
 young
 man
 he
 had
 favored
 the
 study
 of
 XVIIIth
 century
 romantic
 
literature,
 first
 and
 foremost
 the
 Dangerous
 Liaisons,
 the
 epistolary
 masterpiece
 by
 
Choderlos
 de
 Laclos.
 He
 had
 always
 seen
 this
 book
 as
 a
 continual
 master
 class
 in
 the
 
art
  of
  using
  ink
  to
  make
  hearts
  vibrate
  and
  throb.
  And
  so
  he
  warned
  her
  that
  he
 
could
 (and
 would)
 make
 the
 dream
 very
 vivid,
 thus
 installing
 his
 habit
 of
 obtaining
 
consent.
 And
 so
 she
 began
 her
 habit
 of
 giving
 consent
 without
 probing
 the
 scale
 of
 
what
  she
  was
  consenting
  to,
  a
  form
  of
  trust
  that
  touched
  him
  greatly
  and
  that
  he
 
never
 abused.
 

In
 all
 fairness,
 it
 was
 she
 who
 had
 immediately
 set
 them
 on
 the
 path
 to
 a
 world
 of
 
sensations.
 When
 Alexander
 had
 surprised
 her
 with
 the
 gift
 of
 this
 stranger
 that
 she
 
could
 talk
 to
 about
 anything
 she
 wanted,
 she
 had
 been
 forced
 to
 confront
 questions
 
about
  herself
  and
  her
  motivations
  in
  clinging
  to
  Alexander
  when
  he
  so
  clearly
 
wanted
 out.
 He
 wanted
 out
 of
 what
 he
 had
 started.
 He
 wanted
 to
 slam
 shut
 a
 door
 he
 
had
 pried
 open.
 No,
 worse
 than
 that,
 he
 wanted
 to
 un-‐ring
 a
 bell.
 Alexander
 was
 a
 
predator,
 a
 married
 skirt-‐chaser
 so
 emotionally
 immature
 that
 sex
 was
 to
 him
 like
 
an
 addictive
 substance
 whose
 draw
 was
 insurmountable.
 When
 he
 had
 set
 his
 sights
 
on
 Cathy,
 he’d
 had
 thoughts
 of
 a
 pearl
 oyster
 that
 he
 would
 need
 to
 shuck
 hoping
 to
 
find
  a
  pearl.
  A
  more
  proper
  and
  respectable
  lady
  you
  could
  not
  find.
  A
  devout
 
Catholic
  and
  mother
  of
  two,
  the
  word
  ‘affair’
  was
  not
  a
  part
  of
  her
  common
 
vocabulary,
  relegated
  to
  the
  same
  page
  in
  the
  dictionary
  as
  ‘Hell’,
  ‘Sin’
  and
  others.
 
She
  had
  met
  her
  husband
  in
  college
  and
  notwithstanding
  a
  couple
  of
  chaste
 
escapades
 in
 high-‐school,
 he
 had
 been
 the
 sum-‐total
 of
 her
 sexual
 knowledge.
 After
 
fifteen
 years
 of
 marriage
 this
 body
 of
 knowledge
 was
 at
 best
 stagnant
 though
 more
 
likely
 decaying
 at
 that
 point,
 a
 withering
 spiral
 notebook
 with
 a
 few
 pages
 of
 half-‐
erased
  penciled-‐in
  scribbles
  buried
  deep
  inside
  of
  her.
  Alexander,
  suspecting
  as
 
much,
  had
  reached
  in
  and
  found
  it.
  As
  he’d
  suspected,
  the
  first
  page
  still
  held
  its
 
ornate
  title
  and
  decorations,
  drawn
  when
  she
  was
  still
  naïve
  and
  curious:
  Sex.
  He
 
seduced
  her
  with
  ease
  and
  panache
  and
  proceeded
  to
  make
  her
  discover
  that
  she
 
was
  a
  sexual
  being,
  capable
  of
  emotions
  and
  feelings
  unknown
  to
  her
  and,
  yes,
 
capable
  of
  pleasure.
  Alexander
  had
  given
  her
  this
  most
  amazing
  of
  gifts:
  the
 
knowledge
 that
 she
 could
 be
 brought
 to
 orgasm
 by
 a
 man.
 But
 it
 would
 take
 her
 a
 
while
  to
  understand
  that
  this
  was
  what
  had
  made
  her
  a
  changed
  woman
  and
  for
 
many
 different
 reasons,
 not
 least
 of
 which
 was
 how
 overwhelming
 Alexander’s
 own
 
motives
  and
  deceptions
  had
  been.
  For
  him,
  Catherine
  was
  but
  one
  in
  a
  long
  list
  of
 
conquests
 whose
 sole
 purpose
 had
 been
 to
 assuage
 his
 ever
 more
 extreme
 desires.
 
While
 no-‐one
 with
 an
 open
 mind
 would
 think
 of
 Alexander
 as
 a
 man
 with
 perverse
 
tastes,
  his
  insistence
  to
  Cathy
  that
  all
  men
  liked
  such
  things
  showed
  in
  retrospect
 
that
  he
  understood
  his
  own
  tastes
  to
  be
  more
  risqué
  than
  most.
  The
  unfortunate
 
result
 was
 that
 having
 spent
 nearly
 all
 of
 her
 life
 ensconced
 in
 the
 land
 of
 propriety,
 
morality
 and
 exclusively
 reproductive
 and
 therefore
 infrequent
 sex,
 she
 now
 sat
 on
 
a
 pendulum
 that
 had
 swung
 to
 a
 world
 where
 all
 men
 like
 mild
 bondage,
 props
 and
 
sex
 toys,
 and
 that
 she
 enjoyed
 them
 too
 because
 she
 wanted
 if
 nothing
 else
 to
 reach
 
the
  heights
  that
  Alexander
 was
 thrusting
 her
  to.
  And
  so
  the
  conclusion
  was
  rather
 
self-‐evident
 that
 the
 only
 reason
 this
 Michel
 would
 want
 to
 engage
 in
 conversation
 
with
  her
  was
  to
  talk
  about
  sex,
  kinky
  sex.
  True
  to
  herself
  she
  had
  resolved
  that
 
unlike
  with
  Alexander,
  with
  Michel
  she
  would
  be
  in
  control
  of
  the
  relationship.
 
Without
  much
  self-‐awareness
  she
  spent
  the
  time
  leading
  up
  to
  the
  encounter
 
rearranging
  the
  ground
  beneath
  her
  to
  make
  it
  as
  stable
  as
  possible.
  The
  second
 
time
 that
 Michel
 called
 her,
 she
 used
 the
 word
 “cock”
 for
 the
 sole
 purpose
 of
 asking
 
him
 if
 it
 shocked
 him,
 perhaps
 her
 way
 of
 asserting
 that
 she
 could
 play
 ‘ball’
 with
 the
 
best
  of
  them.
  His
  response
  foreshadowed
  the
  closing
  figure
  of
  the
  minuet
  they
 
would
  engage
  in
  during
  the
  next
  couple
  of
  weeks:
  “I’m
  a
  little
  surprised,
  but
  not
 
shocked.
 I’d
 wondered,
 of
 course,
 what
 your
 word
 of
 choice
 might
 be,
 but
 since
 I
 did
 
not
 know
 you,
 it
 was
 pure
 speculation.
 I
 myself
 prefer
 the
 word
 phallus.”
 He
 paused
 
for
  a
  second,
  for
  effect.
  ‘I
  find
  it
  has
  a
  certain
  ring
  to
  it.
  And
  it
  works
  in
  many
 
languages.”
 What
 traveled
 down
 her
 back
 upon
 hearing
 those
 words
 could
 hardly
 be
 
called
 a
 shiver,
 given
 its
 intensity,
 and
 it
 left
 her
 spine
 at
 once
 frozen
 and
 liquefied.
 

The
 minuet,
 while
 choreographed
 in
 its
 broad
 moves
 by
 Michel,
 came
 to
 be
 because
 
of
 Alexander’s
 attempts
 at
 protecting
 himself
 all
 too
 late
 from
 his
 own
 scheming,
 a
 
predicament
  not
  unknown
  to
  him.
  This
  time,
  though,
  his
  motivations
  were
  quite
 
different.
 Alexander’s
 main
 purpose
 in
 breaking
 it
 off
 completely
 with
 Cathy
 was
 not
 
what
  one
  could
  expect
  from
  a
  philanderer
  of
  his
  caliber,
  but
  indeed
  quite
  the
 
opposite.
  It
  was
  a
  desperate
  and
  last
  ditch
  attempt
  at
  saving
  his
  marriage,
  at
 
foreswearing
  infidelity,
  at
  not
  taking
  for
  granted
  the
  one
  thing
  that
  mattered
  and
 
meant
  something
  in
  his
  life:
  his
  wife.
  When
  he
  approached
  Michel
  and
  asked
  him
 
outright
 is
 he
 would
 be
 interested
 in
 having
 conversations
 of
 a
 sexual
 nature
 with
 a
 
‘friend’,
 it
 had
 not
 taken
 long
 for
 him
 to
 admit
 that
 it
 was
 his
 former
 mistress
 and
 to
 
explain
 the
 situation.
 But
 in
 the
 days
 that
 followed,
 Alexander
 realized
 with
 distress
 
that
 he
 was
 giving
 a
 colleague
 full
 view
 of
 his
 innermost
 and
 darkest
 fantasies,
 and
 
he
  began
  making
  abstruse
 
  remarks
  to
  Michel
  about
  Cathy
  as
  a
  way
  to
  distance
 
himself
 from
 what
 Michel
 was
 about
 to
 discover
 about
 him.
 This
 culminated
 in
 the
 
infamous
 remark:
 “She
 likes
 pretty
 kinky
 stuff,
 you
 know…
 bondage.”
 While
 this
 did
 
not
 disturb
 Michel
 per
 se
 and
 he
 assured
 his
 friend
 that
 he
 was
 well
 able
 to
 engage
 
in
  mild
  forms
  of
  exploration,
  he
  immediately
  decided
  that
  if
  things
  were
  to
  click
 
between
 him
 and
 the
 mysterious
 woman,
 he
 would
 soon
 shift
 things
 to
 more
 mild-‐
mannered
  activities.
  In
  his
  mind,
  excursions
  into
  pain
  and
  coercion
  during
  sexual
 
play
  were
  purely
  a
  means
  to
  provide
  occasional
  unexpected
  spice
  into
  a
 
relationship,
 and
 not
 an
 appropriate
 backdrop.
 He
 had
 no
 interest
 in
 the
 exploration
 
of
  the
  boundaries
  between
  pleasure
  and
  pain,
  a
  topic
  of
  some
  fascination
  for
 
Alexander.
  In
  addition
  to
  a
  lack
  of
  interest,
  Michel
  knew
  of
  the
  danger
  in
  such
 
explorations
  of
  finding
  that
  the
  boundaries
  can
  be
  shifted
  by
  their
  very
  probing,
  a
 
danger
 in
 part
 the
 cause
 of
 Alexander’s
 predicament.