Extremely Prudish Attorney (not to be confused with PLA, or ADA) and I met while working on a mutual friend’s political campaign many years ago. Despite the sundries of differences, we were fast friends. In some sense, I am certain that she enjoyed our relationship because I gave her cover to stay out too late, have another drink, talk about sex, and any number of other things her repressive upbringing discouraged.
She and I had just finished dinner at my place one January evening when she began the conversation about sparks missing from her intimate moments with her boyfriend who lived about 30 miles away. I should admit that I relished the opportunity to shock her delicate sexual sensibilities.
“Have you ever tried role play?”
“Refugee, I… I don’t think I could be comfortable with that.”
“What about light bondage?”
Silence – enough of teasing, time for real suggestions. “Keeping the spark alive is about surprise, constant exploration of your individual and collective sexuality. Do something different; succumb to your baser urges; read him some erotica while he is at work – hell, read some erotica for yourself; put a note in his pocket letting him know what you want to do to him when he gets home; change the landscape. Even something as simple as appearing on his door wearing nothing but that mink coat* hanging over there and a smile will do wonders for you. Fuck him silly, leave him for dead and go home.”
Her eye twinkled ever so slightly at my last suggestion even as she bristled at the language I used.
“Really? The idea makes me nervous, but I think I could do it. He won’t think I am crazy?”
“EPA, even if he does think you’re crazy – that is a good thing. It will help get you out of your missionary rut.”
“It’s not too late for this?”
“There is never an hour so late that a man wouldn’t be grateful for a naked woman to appear on his doorstep.”
She stalled for a few more minutes before grabbing her coat and excusing herself to the bathroom. She emerged bearing an uncomfortable but self-satisfied grin. For the first time, I saw the hot side of her typical librarian look. Pleased with my counseling job and thinking of the beer her boyfriend now owes me for the night he was about to have, I bid her goodnight and good luck.
She was so pleased with her adventure, until the lights began to shine in her rearview mirror. The tears started to well as the State Trooper approached her window.
“Ma’am, I pulled you over because you were driving 15mph over the speed limit. Some reason you were driving so fast?”
“Because my stupid, stupid friend, refugee, convinced me to surprise my boyfriend wearing just this coat, and I have never done anything like this, and refugee is stupid, and I was nervous. And here is my license.”
The Trooper stifled laughter, as he said “Slow down, and have a good night, ma’am.”
I heard about the traffic stop for years; she never told me what happened later.
*though I know animals were harmed to make that coat, none were hurt in writing this post.