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Wendy had been tossing and turning all night. She forgot how hard it was for her to fall asleep without Marty next to her. Since she kicked him out, she’d been resorting to her old habit from when they lived in Chicago and Marty would go on a business trip with Bruce. She used to spray a little of his cologne on his pillow and hug it to go to sleep. And it seems she has to do it again tonight if she wants to get any rest.
This is fucking pathetic, she thinks to herself. But at least he won’t know.
She goes to the bathroom to get his cologne and sprays it twice on the pillow. She lays down on her side and brings his pillow to her face, inhaling the scent. Before she knows it, she’s fast asleep.
Or she is until her phone rings in the middle of the night.
Startled, she scrambles for her phone and answers the call. “Marty?” she says into the phone, not even checking the name. Who else would be calling right now?
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he says, his voice low and husky.
She looks at the time on her phone. “Yes, it’s two o’clock in the morning, Marty,” she says, annoyed at the question.
“Actually, it’s almost three,” he says.
She can hear the smirk on his face as he said it. She rubs the sleep from her eyes. “What do you want, Marty?” she says, irritation dripping from her voice. Clearly this isn’t an emergency call.
“Just wanted to check if I left my meditation book in my nightstand drawer,” he says.
Wendy sighs. “Fine, I’ll check.” She pushes the speakerphone button and turns her lamp on. She rolls to his side of the bed and opens the drawer. Sure enough, the book is there.
She saw it on his nightstand a few weeks ago and was surprised that Marty, of all people, would be interested in transcendental meditation. She skimmed through it herself and didn’t find it particularly compelling. But she’s not going to admit that to him.
“Yeah, it’s here,” Wendy says, closing the drawer.
“Ok thanks, I’ll pick it up tomorrow, I guess…It’s pretty helpful, you know,” Marty says.
Wendy scoffs. “You actually meditate?”
“Well, no,” Marty says. “Sue gave it to me to ‘help calm me down’ but all it’s good for is helping me fall asleep.”
Wendy laughs, despite herself. “…Did you really call me this late just to check on your book?”
“Yes, Wendy. It’s my version of ‘cologne on the pillow,’” he teases.
Fuck, when did I tell him that? she thinks.
“You remember that?” Wendy asks, shocked.
“Of course I do,” he says, matter-of-factly. “…Is that how you fell asleep tonight?”
“…No,” Wendy lies.
“Uh huh,” Marty says, not believing his wife.
She can once again hear his smirk through the phone.
“Well, now that we’re both up, I do know of something both of us can do to fall asleep fast,” Marty says.
“Oh yeah? What?” Wendy asks, feigning ignorance to his implication.
“You can tell me what you’re wearing,” Marty says, his voice husky.
She hates that she feels herself getting turned on by just his voice. She hates that they’ve already slept together more since she kicked him out than when they were living together. She hates that she feels like an uncontrollable horny teenager again when they see each other at the casino. She hates that she wants to both rip off his clothes and suffocate him in his sleep.
But most of all, she hates that she misses him.
That fight in front of Sue was horrible and he said things that he can’t take back.
Scary. Selfish. Power-hungry.
That’s how he described her. His own wife. As if they didn’t choose this life together. As if he didn’t understand the stakes of his own decisions when he’s seen the cartel do things she can’t even fathom.
How am I selfish when I’m trying to get us out? When I’m trying to get us clean? she thinks.
“There are plenty of other ways to fall asleep,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Honey, you have both of our pillows and my book,” Marty argues playfully. “What do I have?”
Wendy raises the phone up to her mouth. “An internet connection…and your left hand,” she teases.
“Ooh, say that again,” he says, teasing back. She hears rustling and heavy breathing on the other end. She feels her heart beating faster and she hates herself for it.
“Marty, come on-“ She can’t believe he’s really doing this.
“You really want me jerking off to some porn star versus the sound of my own wife?” Marty says breathily.
“Marty, we’re both too old for phone sex,” she says, a little breathier than she intended.
“I can talk you through it if that helps, Grandma,” he jokes. “All you have to do is tell me what you’re wearing, baby.”
She bites her lip, and she feels her face getting hotter. She looks down at herself. “My blue pajama top with matching shorts.”
Marty lets out a small moan. “Mmm the one with the buttons, right?”
“Yes,” Wendy says. She can feel herself getting wet already.
“Good. Unbutton them. Slowly,” Marty says.
Wendy does as she’s told, something she has a hard time doing everywhere else except the bedroom.
“Anything underneath?” Marty says, breathing heavily.
“No,” Wendy says as she unbuttons. “You didn’t tell me what you’re wearing yet.”
“Just a thong and a corset,” Marty says, dryly.
Wendy laughs at the image.
“What do you think? My blue flannel shirt and my boxers,” Marty says.
“Unbuttoned or buttoned?” says Wendy. Now her voice sounds husky.
“…Buttoned,” Marty says.
“Unbutton your shirt but keep it on,” says Wendy.
She can hear Marty’s moan through the phone. “…Yes, ma’am. Same goes for you,” he says.
There’s more rustling as Marty unbuttons. “Now take off your shorts, Wendy,” he says gruffly.
“Just my shorts?”
“Yes, baby. Leave your thong on,” he says between moans.
Wendy does what she’s told again, tossing her shorts on the floor. “Now what?” she asks, placing the phone on her pillow.
“Lay on your back for me,” he says.
“Okay,” she says, laying down.
“Now I want you to slowly move your hands down from your collarbone to play with your tits. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Wendy moans. “Yes.”
She does what her husband says and moves her hands to play with her tits. She massages them and rubs her nipples, moaning quietly into the phone.
“Keep going baby. Don’t stop,” Marty moans. “I bet your tits look incredible, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Wendy chokes out.
“Now lick your fingers then play with your nipples,” he moans.
She does and she can’t contain her moans. “Fuck, Marty,” she whimpers.
“God, I wish I was there with you right now, honey,” he says. “I know how wet you’re getting just from that.”
Wendy whimpers again into the phone. “Marty, please.”
“Alright, since you asked so nicely, honey. But I want you to flip over on your stomach and move your pillow between your legs. Can you do that for me?” he says.
She puts her phone on the nightstand, moves her pillow between her legs, and lays down. She whimpers at the pressure on her center and says “Okay.”
“Now put my pillow under your head and play with your clit, Wendy,” Marty pants.
Wendy’s fingers move down to her folds and she finds her clit. She makes small circles with her fingers, and she arches her back, pressing the pillow deeper into her.
“Mmmm-Marty I-” She’s lost in the moment; it feels too good. Smelling his cologne, the pressure between her hips, hearing his moans and hers at the same time is almost too much for her to bear. She doesn’t know how much longer she can last.
“I love the noises you make, baby. Keep going,” he says seductively. “I’m so fucking hard for you, honey.”
Wendy whimpers again at the thought of him coming to just her voice.
“Okay two fingers, honey,” Marty groans. “And go deep.”
She does and she moans loudly, her fingers moving in and out of herself quickly.
“Keep fucking yourself, honey. That’s it,” Marty moans.
Wendy whimpers as her fingers go deeper. Her hips roll against the pillow. “Marty… I’m so close, I-“
“One hand on your clit, baby. And don’t stop fucking yourself with the other hand,” he chokes out. She can tell by his panting that he’s close too.
“Are you going to come all over your fingers for me, baby?” Marty asks between pants.
“Yes,” Wendy says, her breath hitching.
“Fuck, I wish I was there with you. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re about to come,” Marty says panting hard.
“Jesus Christ, Marty!” Wendy whimpers. Her hips are bucking against the pillow now.
“Come for me, baby,” his voice is so low now. She’s never heard him like this before. And she likes it.
Her fingers on her clit move faster and as she comes, she screams his name into his pillow, but she knows she was loud enough that the phone picked it up. She lays there, panting and exhausted, and she hears Marty sigh with pleasure one final time. Neither of them says anything for a few moments as they let both catch their breath.
“Goodnight, Marty,” she says, reaching for her phone.
“Sweet dreams,” he says. He hangs up.
She rolls her eyes, but when she lays her head down on his pillow, she has a smile on her face. And she’s thankful that there’s one thing about tonight he won’t know.