The Spice of Life (The Transformation #1)

by Jake Furie Lapin

  Paul’s face softened and he grinned that crooked grin of his. “Aww, Kellikins! You’re so goddamn cute sometimes, you know that? Of course we can fuck on New Years’ Eve. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Fuck? Kelli thought. I can easily fuck with a vibrator. I wanted to make love. He just doesn’t get it. Paul came around the bar and wrapped her up in a familiar bear hug. She could feel his heart beating through his bathrobe. It made her feel sick and furious all at the same time.

  She pushed him back, away from her. “You just don’t get it, do you?” she said to him. She could feel herself glaring. “Do you realize it has been months since we fucked? MONTHS!? Do you even care?”

  Paul stared at her blankly. Then he shrugged. “Things are fine,” he said. “Anyway, whatever. Yeah, we’ll fuck on New Year’s Eve. Happy now?”

  Kelli felt her anger turning into despair. “Sure,” she mumbled. “Yeah. Really happy.” She stared down at her hands, and then turned to the cupboard to take out a glass. She wasn’t really thirsty, but it gave her a reason to turn her back to him.

  Paul didn’t seem to notice. “I’m going to watch some TV, OK?” her husband called, walking through to the living room. So that was that. The conversation was over. Kelli felt weak. Relief coupled with an underlying sense of desperation. How like Paul to react like that. Just smooth things over and pretend nothing ever happened...yes, that was her husband. This wasn’t the first time she’d raised the intimacy issue with him, but the reaction was always the same. He acted as though she had said something really obvious, usually hugged her, and then nothing changed.

  She couldn’t let it go though. Her gut told her that pushing the issue would be a mistake, but the frustration was too great to hold back. She moved to the living room and stood in the door. Paul had flipped on the TV, and It’s a Wonderful Life was playing. Somehow that fact made Kelli feel even more helpless and infuriated.

  “Paul.”

  “Uh huh?”

  “I know this isn’t easy for either of us. But just now I didn’t feel like you really listened, or understood what I was saying. It’s just that...well, you know...I guess I’ll just say it. Our love life hasn’t been too good lately. I would like for that to change. I’d also like to feel like my feelings are validated.”

  Silence from the armchair. Paul stared at the TV but she could tell he had tensed up.

  “Paul? Can we talk about this? Please?”

  Without a word, Paul stood up and walked right past her out of the room. Kelli called after him.

  “Where are you going, Paul? Can we just talk?

  Paul turned on the stairs and faced her. “You know I hate this fucking therapist shit, Kelli! I really hate it. There is no problem with us or our sex life. I’m fine. And you would be too, if you weren’t such a condescending bitch all the time!” He turned again and soon Kelli heard the bedroom door slam.

  And there it was. The conversation was over, just like that. Typical.

  Wow. So this is how bad it’s become, she thought. I knew it was bad, but I feel like I’ve been in denial. She didn’t want to force Paul into a full blown fight; she knew that it wouldn’t work and would just cause him to shut down. She couldn’t help but think of Brenda, one of her past clients. For years, Brenda had existed in a sexless marriage; it had completely sapped her of her self-esteem and sense of worth. Kelli had advised her to leave, over and over again. I’ve become Brenda. The thought filled her with horror. This New Year’s Eve is going to make or break us. As soon as the idea entered her mind, she knew it was true. Feeling forlorn and defeated, Kelli made her way to the deserted living room, and sat down in front of the TV, just in time to watch a black-and-white George Bailey crash his car into a snow-covered tree.

  The New Year’s Eve party was an annual event. Carmelo Conte was a former colleague of Paul’s who had worked with him in the garbage collection business. His wife, Andrea, was a petite, dyed-blonde socialite who tottered around on huge platform heels and talked far too loudly. Kelli had never really liked Andrea; she found her chatter to be vapid and meaningless. But out of courtesy she sipped her champagne and nodded while Andrea talked about her miniature poodle and her new pair of Manolo Blahniks. She hated these parties: everyone was so crude, and she knew that several guests were involved in the mob. She was very uncomfortable, and the heavy drinking didn’t help.

  Eventually, Andrea wandered off and Kelli made her way to the bar for a refill. She felt male eyes on her as she passed. As usual, she looked fantastic. She’d chosen a strapless, green, silk sheath dress that was just long enough to be elegant, but short enough to show off her legs. It was a dress that Paul loved, or at least he used to love. Earlier in the evening, she carefully selected it from her closet, along with some strappy, green, Louboutin stiletto heels. She also put more care than usual into applying her makeup, choosing a shade of dark, smoky, burnt-gold eye-shadow that perfectly complimented her green eyes, and a luscious shade of red lipstick. She’d worn the gold and diamond drop earrings that she had inherited from her mother, and had even taken more time than usual to carefully curl the thick auburn hair that was her pride and joy. She topped it off with her favorite necklace: a sapphire pendant. As she walked, she knew that she was inspiring lust in the men around her, but the thought gave her no pleasure. She was all too aware that she would be going home with Paul, to a cold bed, yet again. She had worked so hard to look gorgeous for him, hoping that it would ignite something, but like everything else she’d tried, it didn’t seem to be working.

  At the bar, she felt someone sit down beside her. “Kelli, isn’t it?” She turned and saw Carlos Mitchell. They’d met a couple of years earlier at a work function. Carlos was older, in his early 60s, but he was a handsome man, with salt-and-pepper hair and strong shoulders.

  She smiled invitingly. “Well hiiiii! It’s been a while! How are you, Carlos?” She saw his approving glance skim over her trim body and tight dress.

  “I’m just fine...and I must say, you’re looking scrumptious, Kelli.”

  It occurred to her in that moment that she could have Carlos, if she wanted him. She saw the hunger in his eyes and knew that it matched her own. She’d heard through the grapevine that he was newly divorced, and for the first time, Kelli didn’t suppress the thoughts that rose in her mind. Yes, I could have Carlos. Maybe even right now. She could flirt for a while, have a few more drinks and then they could just slip away into one of the empty, adjoining rooms or maybe even FUCK in the bathroom. Take that, Paul. She could run her hands over his tall, strong body and feel him come alive to her...feel his manhood harden in response and preparation. Then she’d let him roughly push her down to the ground, hike up her green dress, and she would draw his mouth down to taste how incredibly wet she was, how very eager...it was a delicious, forbidden thought.

  Kelli suddenly came to her senses. What was she doing? She smiled back at Carlos and suddenly felt slightly disgusted with herself. No, that wasn’t hunger in his eyes. He was just being friendly and polite, making conversation. Feeling unsettled, she politely excused herself and sought refuge with the wives of some executives who had gathered in another corner of the room. She looked around for Paul, and saw him talking to some of the more slutty women in the room, the ones with too much make-up and ultra-low cut tops. He clearly was not missing her. He barely even looked up from the skanky brunette he was talking to. That’s typical. Kelli felt disgusted yet again. She remembered a previous party where Paul had gone off with some of the guys and hadn’t even bothered to tell her. She’d been worried sick and finally went home without him. She was just about to call the police in the early hours of the morning when he finally stumbled in the door, drunk. It turned out that he had stayed out drinking with his buddies the whole time. He never even apologized.

  On the way home, Paul was predictably drunk. He could barely string a sentence together and passed out on the passenger side. Kelli couldn’t stop thinking about that moment with Carlos. What had she been th
inking, letting her thoughts go down that road? She’d actually been considering cheating on Paul. She was pondering this when suddenly she became aware of the radio in the cab. The cab driver had gone to turn the radio off when Kelli and Paul got in, but she’d told him to leave it on. She needed some kind of white noise to fill up the emptiness. But what was playing right now?

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  Kelli was suddenly wide awake. Online dating, for an affair? She had several friends who had navigated the online dating world with varying degrees of success, but it had never occurred to her that websites might exist to help people have affairs. She turned and looked at Paul slumped against the opposite window. Like a cold, hard slap in the face, it came to her that even if he hadn’t been drunk, she still didn’t really want to have sex with him. She hadn’t felt attracted to him in that way in a long time, years even. The spark was gone. It felt outrageous to admit it, but she knew it was true. An affair. I could actually have an affair. Suddenly, Kelli couldn’t wait to get home.

  Kelli managed to wake Paul up enough for her to get him out of the cab. The cabbie helped her get him up the stairs and onto the bed. Once he was sprawled out, snoring, she thanked the cabbie for his help. He had been gazing into her eyes, and also down at the sapphire pendant she was wearing. He had very striking green eyes, but Kelli was too exhausted to register anything else. She paid him and headed to the living room to boot up her laptop. She couldn’t really believe that she was doing this, but it felt exciting. It even felt right. She typed in the web address she’d heard in the cab. When the website came up it looked classy, simple and discreet, which was somehow reassuring.

  At first she tried to browse the profiles of male users, but the site would not allow access to photos. So, following the online instructions, Kelli began to establish her own profile.

  Appearance: red hair, green eyes, 5’8”, slender

  My best physical assets: That was an easy one. legs, butt, long hair

  About me:

  Kelli paused. How does one describe oneself, without sounding either arrogant or ridiculous? Finally, she wrote:

  About me: I am looking to love and be loved, without changing our current situation, and to explore all of life's possibilities. Life is too short to be wasted...I'm tired of waiting for change that will never come. I need to create my own change.

  Interests: long walks, good books, close friends.

  God, she thought. Could I sound any more boring and cliched? She erased what she’d written and started over.

  Interests: Discovering life’s little pleasures, loving and being loved. Going deeper. Creating and maintaining adventures.

  Not great, but better. She moved on to the next section.

  What I’m looking for in a partner:

  What am I looking for? She wasn’t even sure. Was it just the idea of having some great sex that excited her? Or was it the possibility of actually having a real connection again, after all this time? She’d had it with Paul, a very long time ago. It had faded away over the years, but yes, it had been there once. She craved that closeness, that melding of mind, body and spirit. But how do you put that into words?

  Finally she wrote: Someone who knows what it’s like to be with someone, but alone. Someone who wants to explore the limits of connection, in every sense: spiritual, physical, and emotional.

  A little cheesy maybe, but it was true.

  There was one last section to complete.

  What turns you on?

  There was a list of bullets that could be selected. Some of them were quite explicit, and Kelli felt a rush of pleasure as she selected a few.

  Sensual massage

  Giving oral sex

  Receiving oral sex

  Role play

  Dressing up/lingerie

  Aggressive / Take Charge Nature

  Confidence

  Good sense of humor

  Fit / Muscular body

  Kelli looked at the list...was there anything else? She briefly hesitated, and then added one more:

  Light, kinky fun

  She remembered how, in the early days of their relationship, she had tried to get Paul to explore, sexually. She had fantasized about having him tie her up and forcefully explore her body with his mouth, so she bought a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. Paul had acted somehow offended, and ultimately had refused to use them. The handcuffs ended up gathering dust in a closet for years. Eventually, when they’d moved, Kelli had found them and ended up throwing them away. At that point, she didn’t want to be reminded of the sexual excitement she was missing.

  Now for the photos. Kelli opened up a few albums on her computer and selected a range of photos: one with her in a bikini, taken in Maui last year; another from a work conference in London, wearing a tailored suit; and a third photo with her smiling wide, and holding up her favorite drink: a dirty martini with bleu-cheese stuffed olives. That would do for now. She was poised to upload them, but hesitated. Who knew who was out there? What if someone she knew saw her?

  On second thought, she decided to upload these photos to the secret photos area of the site. She added one photo that was taken from behind, as she walked along the beach at sunset. It didn’t show her face, but it did show off her long auburn hair, as well as her legs and her shapely ass. Yes, that would do nicely. For her public profile picture she finally chose a photo, cropping it into a body shot that showed her from the neck down in one of her favorite dresses, an emerald-green satin cocktail number. She was wearing her favorite necklace, a white-gold pendant with a sapphire. Yes, that’s nice. Gives them a good taste.

  With her profile complete, her finger hovered over the mouse, as she contemplated the “Submit” button on the profile. Was she ready?

  What the hell, she thought. It’s not like I actually have to do anything. I’ll just see what happens.

  She pressed send, shut down the computer, and went to bed.

  The next morning, Kelli eagerly booted up the computer and loaded the website. She had expected to find one or two messages, so she was dumbfounded to see that her inbox contained sixty new emails. Wow, she thought. I’m not alone?

  She opened the first one. The subject line read, “Hi.” The body of the email contained one line. The member profile showed that the guy was 6’2” and 280 lbs.

  ur sexy. wanna chat?

  Kelli winced, and hit “Delete”. The next message had no subject line at all, and read:

  Nice legs. If you are up for a hot time and a phat dick, hit me up. Five-oh-five seven two nine, 6 four one.

  This did not bode well. As Kelli skimmed through the remainder of the messages, most contained photos; some very explicit, and she quickly weeded most of them out. There were two normal sounding emails, but the photos that the first sender included showed him with a beer gut, black leather jacket, and a scraggly goatee. The second guy didn’t have any profile photos at all, and sounded incredibly dull. Kelli sighed. Maybe this was just a bad idea. None of these people were even remotely suitable, and it was clear that the majority hadn’t even bothered to read her own profile.

  She continued to check her mail throughout the day, and was amazed to find that the messages kept rolling in like clockwork. It seemed that each time she logged in, there were five or ten new emails. One of the messages had the subject heading “Check this out” and an attachment. Out of morbid curiosity, Kelli opened the attachment and was unwillingly rewarded for her efforts with a photo of a man’s naked, erect penis. She was not the slightest bit aroused by the sight of a stranger’s genitalia, but did find it intriguing. She cast a critical, curious
eye over the phallus and noted the size and shape. Meh. Kind of crooked. Big enough, I suppose, but who cares? The man who sent it didn’t have a word to say for himself, so she didn’t even bother with a courtesy reply.

  She began to feel very bored with the messages she was receiving and decided to browse on her own. Most of the profiles didn’t have photos so she skipped over those. Not really fair, she thought, given the fact that she herself chose not to post many photos, but still. She wanted to know what she was getting into. She couldn’t believe how bad some of the profiles were. Few men bothered to write much about themselves, and the photo selection was even more disappointing. There was the guy who said he was 45, but looked much closer to 65. There were a large number of photos where the man had snapped his own pic with a smart phone, showing a bare chest in the mirror from the neck down. Most were less than impressive. And there were the stoic guys who stared straight into the camera without cracking even a glimmer of a smile; these reminded her of prison mug-shots. She was almost amused. Photos of you and your wife/girlfriend? Really? You and your cat is very disturbing. You in a boat with a beer gut holding up a beer is NOT attractive, uggghhh. Nice cock, wish the rest of you was just as good.