Bust Out Magazine

Spring 2005

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Double X’s

by Cristie Marcus

“Aw, come on, Cath,” Rob coaxed. “It’ll be fun. You’ll look great. Better than she ever could.”

“No way. I am not wearing your ex-wife’s clothes. Forget it.”

“Come here.” Rob put his arm around Cathy’s waist.

“Why do you still have your Lynnie’s lingerie, anyway?”

“Found them in the back of the drawer after she moved out. Just try this one on.” He held up a peach colored, lace trimmed teddy, the straps made of tiny pink beads sewn to silk ribbons that tied in little bows on the shoulders. “Just let me see how you look.”

Cathy’s hesitation faded — it was just easier to go along than to protest. What harm could it do? She didn’t even own a teddy. She didn’t even own any frou-frou underwear.

“Yeah, I knew you’d look great.” Rob grinned. “Here,” he held up a slinky, black, see-through little number. “Now try this one on.”

“Enough. I am not doing this. That thing is just plain sleazy.”

“But, Cath, you’ll look so hot. Come on, Babe, for me, just this once?”

Cathy rolled her eyes, let out a sigh then took the garment from Rob and trudged to the bathroom. She unsnapped the crotch of the peach teddy, squirmed and struggled to pull it over her head, then stepped into the black one. The peach was one piece – loose shorts and top, like a sexy playsuit. The black teddy was a form-fitting thong that also had snaps at the crotch. The thin bits of fabric were difficult to connect. Cathy bent in half, contorting, feeling for the two tiny snaps. Finally. She stood up, the blood rushing from her head made her dizzy. She held on to the towel rack and looked at herself in the mirror. Ugh! Forget it.

“Cath, I’m waiting.”

“No way, Robert. I’m not coming out.”

“Come on, girl; let me see your ass.”

“Oh, God. Then turn down the lights.”

Cathy adjusted the teddy; the rows of sequins that adorned the top edge were scratchy, especially under her arms. A decorative red rose dangled by a thread. She pulled it off and threw it in the toilet.

She could see Rob’s eyes widen even in the dim light of the candles he had lit.

“Wow, now that’s the ticket,” he said as he unbuckled his belt with one hand and unbuttoned his 501s with the other. He grabbed his tee-shirt at the back of the neck and whipped it over his head; pulled down his jeans and boxers in one sweep and did a little dance to step out of them. He left his socks on.

Before Cathy could object, Rob lunged for her; they tumbled to the bed. The sex was a rapid blur. “Oh, oh Lynnie, oh baby,” Rob moaned his ex-wife’s name, then fell fast asleep, his foot protruding off the edge of the bed revealing a hole in the big toe of his sock.

Cathy slid to the other side of the bed. She lay on her back, watching the flickering shadows dance on the ceiling, feeling her tears streaking down the sides of her face, down her neck, her ears, in her tousled, matted hair.

Silently, she slipped out of the bed and tip-toed to the bathroom. She leaned on the vanity, close to the mirror, the night-light’s dim glow making her mascara-smudged, tear-stained eyes look sunken and hollow. She stood upright and stepped back towards the tub. The reflection, she could only see from knees up, repulsed her. The thong had come unsnapped when Rob shoved the thin strip of silk to the side as he entered her. It dangled, wet, between her thighs. Cathy took her arms from the delicate sequin straps and tugged until the teddy slid to the floor. It caught on her foot and she shook it loose.

After washing her hands and taking a cool wash cloth to her crotch, she quickly dried and put on her cotton panties and jeans. She pulled her bulky sweater over her head and pulled her hair taut into a ponytail. She picked up the two teddies and snapped them together, connecting them into one long length of silk, then tied them in three tight knots. She went back into the bedroom and before blowing out the candles, placed the peach and black bundle on the vacant pillow next to Rob. He snored peacefully.

Cathy picked up her shoes and purse and quietly closed the front door behind her.


Cristie Marcus, a full time Realtor and aspiring writer, lives in Santa Rosa with her faithful pup, Cosmo. In 2004 she was published in Bust Out, Women's Voices and the Pacific Sun and published a collection of stories titled Just Shorts which is available upon request.

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