Devotion and Deceit: A Novel

By Mel Small

In an arena built by love and supported by devotion, two couples, close friends, recent empty nesters are suddenly confronted by active sexual desire that had been just a pleasant thought for many years. Each wants the other’s spouse. Self-serving contends with concern and compassion. They all like each other very much.
The story takes place from late 1988 to early 1990. The “double standard” is indicted and brought to trial. Much is about Laura, a teacher who had capably followed society’s syllabus, guided by the headmaster, her husband. She would have welcomed having tea with Ibsen’s Nora. Circumstance affects her comfortable acquiescence. Others give significant testimony. Entwined triangles bring thrill and conflict. Vivid dissection of sexual relationship and friendship reveals the misconceptions from attitude and clouded communication that cause missteps and disappointment. And there is a clear, insightful depiction of a man’s newly manifested sexual obsession beyond pleasure and affection.
These are responsible people with typical aspirations and frailties. Although they are excessively self-serving at times, they care well for their families and contribute to the welfare of others. Eventually they become challenged by the price for their self-indulgence. Motivation is probed. Reader reaction will be diverse and controversial.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781663235299

Mel Small

Mel Small, a native New Yorker, has written two plays, one screenplay and numerous poems and essays. This is his fourth novel.

Book preview

Chapter 1

S itting in the rear on the driver’s side, a bit exhausted, with his right knee in some pain, Joe extended his leg between the front car seats, resting it on the console, careful that there was no view up his tennis shorts revealing the under support and beyond. He rubbed his knee.

Fifty is fifty, Marge said, smiling, turning her head from the front passenger seat. Are you still up for walking around today? It doesn’t look swollen. She gave his knee a couple of token pats.

Joe smiled, Yeah, I’ll make it. And I’m not switching to singles… Gary’s a killer.

Yes, he’s very competitive.

After tennis they had met the wives to look at condos. Gary and Laura were now checking to see if they were showing actual models, not just floor plans. Really just for fun, beginning in September each couple’s two boys will be in college. That is only thirty weeks a year, much too soon for downsizing.

One little twist and she could see right up. He tingled at the thought and brought his leg back. He adjusted the under support, letting it all drop. His heart beat quicker as he debated. I’m never gonna get to fuck her. He returned his leg to the console.

Still hurting? she asked, giving it a couple of rubs.

Joe brought his leg back, surreptitiously sustaining the adjustment, squeezed his knee for a moment and returned it to the console.

Marge moved a bit forward; more of her back was now against the door. Leave your leg there; stretching is good. She gave his knee a brisk, quick rub then faced forward for a moment, smirked and lamented somewhat, fifteen years and this is the closest I’m gonna get. My dearest friend’s husband, now I have to be like a cheat, she thought. I can’t tell Laura, that I saw Joe’s dick and liked looking at it.

Joe got an erection and quickly brought his leg back so not to reveal intent.

It was almost like that Marge and Laura deliberately created some sort of a hitch, bumps to temper dull smoothness. Family healthy, boys doing well, husbands mostly good company and at times lots of fun, and always confidently in control. Minor grievances but still a well worthwhile swap for comfort and security─ and love. That is how it is, they assured each other. Life is good, things are good. They lived in nice ranch houses twenty miles from the greatest city in the greatest country, which would have been even better if it were not for Ronald Regan─ an assortment of annoyances, such as making flying potentially more dangerous and messing with Laura’s fourth grade pupils’ proper nutrition by allowing ketchup to be considered a vegetable. Most disturbing was the cutback on funds for public welfare programs, which reduced services for Marge’s clients.

Their husband bashing was humorous and at times serious but nothing terrible. As for the bedroom stuff, Marge complained that Gary seldom let it finish with she on top. Laura hated the times, as she put it, that Joe Madonified her by kneeling where she stood, lavishing her with praise while kissing her from head to toe. She welcomed his doting, but often resented his advice, especially when it concerned her well-being. And he had an aversion about she swallowing it, necessitating a tissue in waiting to serve as a receptacle. Like a child sneaking candy she would let a little go down. Laura lamented that when she missed, Joe did not bring his head back down, instead of offering an unenthusiastic handout. Marge urged her to talk to Joe about this. Laura agreed but never did. She did not reveal that she faked it at times so that Joe should not feel that he was not exciting her enough. It pained her that Marge seldom needed extra effort. At times they talked about what they referred to as the kinky things that didn’t go on. Giggling, they blamed their husbands for this void. It’s not for them to initiate. The guys could’ve been subtle; they were so close anyway, a hiccup away as Marge put it. Then the no trespassing signs would come down, and they too could bury themselves in darkness and silence. For Marge it simply had to do with Gary’s preferences. But so precious to Laura were Joe’s standards of what is proper and decent and his determination not to compromise these and to continue to be worthy of whom he loved, and who loved him. So gratifying was this and so entrenched was how they sexually expressed their love that Laura realized that these indulgences would always be deemed distasteful and could only exist in her thoughts. They assumed that guys talked about women and sex, but wondered if husbands discuss with their close friends issues in their own bedrooms. Neither of them wanted to ask.

You mean if they did we could? Marge asked. The husband has the right to make the first lapse?

How would we even know? Laura replied.

Marge smiled. We would assume they are… Anyway we got good guys. We’ll keep enjoying our fantasies.

They shared them once in a while, without concern of being not ladylike.

They probably have their own, Laura said, even while fucking us… She grimaced. I hope not. I never do. What she had never revealed was that sometimes she had to force herself not to."

So you never caught Joe jerking off?

Laura chuckled, And if I did I would assume he’s thinking about me.

Yeah, why bother to call you in the next room or wake you up.

Of course it would be exciting, our tubes are tied you know, but as we’ve been saying all along we would feel so bad about ourselves… At least someone makes a pass at you once in a while.

Marge smiled, Yon Laura needs a lean and hungry look. We’re ingrates, too comfortable. But girls just wanna have fun.

Laura smiled, But we’re matrons with regulations."

If we die first, I could see our tombstones. One life, One man.

However, for Laura this could never be so. It’s a cheap thrill, mother had said, not worth it. You want to marry well, right? How do you know Gloria was a virgin, Laura asked? Of course she was, otherwise your brother won’t have married her. But the summer after graduation, on a fourth date, a nice boy, at night on the beach, no blanket, twists and turns, pushes and heaves, and thwarted by teenage ED. Blaming herself, embarrassed and guilt ridden she never went out with him again. Then the week before Labor Day on a second date, she on top in the back seat with Suzy and her boyfriend in the front, it went painfully smooth. She hoped Suzy did not realize. That was it till Joe. A tingle without the big thrill but mainly the accomplishment. So good to know that she could take it, keep it in and excite it to completion.

By 1966, even for straight-laced Joe, wedding night virginity was no longer an essential qualification. He moved slowly, verifying and enhancing his initial impression. When at long last going all the away and no blood, before any possible questions, Laura told him how in Russia her great grandmother displayed the bed sheet after a daughter’s wedding in response to an older sister’s husband’s kibitzing. She chuckled, Poor me, back then I would have gotten a bum rap. Joe was happy and proud to tell his friends about the wonderful girl he was going to marry. Laura’s mother, relieved, gloated, I told you so. She had thought Laura’s friends were too fast. Whose soiled panties are these, yours! She had spread them all on the bed. You buy mine, this is lace. However, they were hers. Her friends all surreptitiously got them to wear at a party in Laura’s house. I just want to shoot on your belly, the brash sixteen year old pleaded. Then I’m keeping your panties, the brat threatened. Go ahead; you could hangem in your room.

Otherwise Laura was very forthcoming. Both were never that much with anyone else─ everything from recipes and books they read, husbands, children, parents, feelings, fears, faults and inadequacies. However, Laura had another secret, similar to one that Marge had; they each wanted to fuck the other’s husband.

The sightseeing having concluded, they were having lunch.

Why bother to move twice, Joe said? My knees could last at least fifteen years, and then go to assisted living.

Gary replied, smiling, Yes they got these places now where you start out with assistance and gradually work up…like in school, moving up, depending on your ability.

You mean disability, Laura said chuckling.

Marge said, "Anyway the boys are not leaving any time soon.

Yeah, Laura said, smiling. The big brothers each broke up.

Joe chuckled. They better get moving, they’ll be no virgins left.

Marge smiled, Coed dorms, some safe house for virgins… We lived at home during college; you guys were lucky…Class of ’64, the pill wasn’t yet in full bloom."

Gary chuckled, When visiting Michael, I walked into the bathroom and there was Sally Greene. We said hello and went into side by side stalls."

Did you pee in the water, Joe asked?

Yeah, then I took a good look at her shoes then faked washing my hands.

Wow, Joe laughed. You can go your whole life without that happening… She probably saw you looking.

Nah, then she would’ve opened it.

The guys were really only friends through the wives. Only tennis for the last couple of years, never a beer or watching a ballgame together, twice going to one. Each had kept friendships from the old neighborhoods and college. Joe found Gary to be smug. This was okay; accountants are supposed to be that way. But also annoyingly pushy, aggressive. Laura agreed, more so than he, and he being the life insurance salesman.

An hour ago Marge saw his dick and did not avert her gaze, in fact turned her head a few times to talk. Joe felt no regret or embarrassment as the four of them sat around the table. He wondered how he would have been feeling had she turned away, startled. Now, like so many times before, they sat next to each other, at a round table with their knees in contact, not heavy but not light either. So many years hoping for her to rub. Was it that she was waiting for him, his bid?

Joe smirked, maybe I should free them again in case she causes an earring to fall under the table and crawls down to look for it. He kept smirking at the thought. But kind, considerate Laura would help her look. Seeing Marge see my dick, she would be mortified.

What’s so funny, Laura asked?

I finally got Gary’s bad joke.

But would he? Other women had become a comfortable part of his life. Terrible guilt in the beginning, broken resolves, but this would be a double betrayal.

Hey Gary I saw another dick today. I looked at it a lot. Marge always liked talking with Joe, but today in the car the small talk was superfluous. It had made her wet, but how long can you just look at it? She slightly changed positions in the chair to justify a bit more pressure on his knee. Your dick was great, but it’s gonna take more than an accident to get us going. You’re the boy, you make the first move, scaredy cat. Despite the yearning and all the fantasizing, Marge still wondered if she would let it happen. And the thought of betraying Gary was just about as painful as betraying Laura. She admired Gary, was attracted to him and grateful for his devotion, and certain of his fidelity─ the ingredients of love. So Joe and she would continue the mutual bone toss but perhaps with enhancement, harmless flirtations, a stolen meaningful longer kiss, a longer proper touch─ something like what happened earlier today.

Joe looked at Marge surreptitiously, recalling the occasional close dance and the sometimes good night lip kiss after dinner in the parking lot when the couples had their own cars and proximity allowed. And there were the special occasions, dinner parties, before dinner on a cruise, graduations, and confirmations, New Years Eve, when a kiss was called for. Usually she would lightly brush her lips across his. And he renewed his resolve that next time he would respond with his tongue. However, Marge was naturally touchy-feely. A pat on the shoulder, on the thigh, an affectionate lean on. How certain could he be that whatever was being directed at him was overt flirtation and not just because of the way she is? In a situation similar to what happened earlier today Laura would never pat the knee. She was not prudish in conversation, nor introverted or shy, yet her affect was prim and proper.

That night he was in bed aroused while thinking about his leg resting on the car counsel. He lay next to Laura who was reading, their bodies in contact. Even when his desire for Marge went into a yearning mode like now, he never fantasy fucked or undressed her, but just focused on her image and the recall of what might be called their flirtations. And now there was a tangible reflection. It was carrying coal to Newcastle when Laura began to stroke his face. It went well, and he was fairly certain that she actually did climax because her gasps and soft moans were not exaggerated. Joe never allowed thoughts of other women, past or current while they caressed or fucked. It was a way of being respectful, he told his friends. They laughed and almost unanimously called him a schmuck. Tonight as soon as he had gotten into bed he could not keep out the image of Marge looking up his tennis shorts, her hand on his knee. And he felt a tinge of embarrassment. The image did go away during sex with Laura and after. But he awoke a few hours later and reflected on it again. He laughed to himself at the thought of one by one tricking other friends of Laura into seeing his dick and again felt a tinge of embarrassment.

From Joe’s old neighborhood and college friends and friends of friends, a group emerged that every other week, three, four or five met in various diners. Although they all knew of his lust for Marge, he did not share the memorable episode of the prior week. He was puzzled about his embarrassment to do so. Anytime during dinner, especially when there was a conversation lull or fatigue from trying to solve the world’s problems, the talk shifted to women, extra-marital stuff, current and previous.

When you gonna fuck her? This time it was Paul who asked the question and who was against it, because of the big hassle that he had gotten into from shitting where he ate─ a secretary.

He never will, Larry said, because he’s really not that bad of a guy.

But still bad. Dave said, smiling. We’re all bad. Not like you.

That’s true. But like I’ve always said, good or bad is not the issue… for me at least. It’s distasteful, dirtying my dick, tarnishing my tongue.

Paul chuckled, I only go downstairs in my house.

Joe asked. Scruples or that you only like home cooking.

But seriously, Larry said. Now that you mentioned home cooking, it’s one’s home. I don’t want to soil our carpet. My house is affected by where I go, what I do outside my house.

And your wife? Paul said.

Yes…of course.

Enough of this Norman Rockwell shit, Dave said.

Never mind the carpet, Larry said. What about your wives’ pussies? How many showers would it take? Just think of Lady Macbeth’s blood stained hand.

Dave replied, smiling. We’ve covered that in previous meetings.

It’s more than pride and ego, Larry said. That she might find another guy more exciting while being soiled…and to have to follow in his dicksteps.

Joe said, Of course it would be painful to think that…but, yes, I would be concerned about the carpet.

Larry asked, Her body tangled in another man’s arms and legs, do you ever get that picture?

Dave chuckled, And he jerks off with it.

Joe became pensive for a moment. Sometimes I get that picture when in bed with another woman. I swat it like a fly.

Paul said, Sometimes I replace the other woman with Alice.

Does the one you’re with join, Joe asked?

No, I get guilty and erase Alice.

You’re a nice guy, Larry said. No need to compromise her…or the other one.

Joe said, We didn’t make the world we inherited it.

Larry replied, Leave well enough alone… But than there would be no progress.

Look, Joe said, We didn’t pick our body parts.

Larry said. But it’s more than a soiled carpet, what’s fair is fair.

Nature is not fair, Joe said.

Paul smiled, Nature really gave women the shaft.

Joe’s expression turned very serious. And it gave us the task to protect our wives and bring them comfort and joy.

Chapter 2

F all came and both couples became empty nesters. A wedding, another dance and the boys’ graduation passed. But, still, Joe had to move his tongue resolve forward, which would probably be New Years Eve.

Laura always looked forward to the beginning of the new school year, meeting her new class, lunches with her colleagues and the constant talk in the car pool. She had become well accustomed to disinterested parents. Her annoyance was tempered by realizing that these parents had their hands full making ends meet, but she was often angered by the unreasonable ones. And this semester she was particularly irked by her principal who brought the level of dealing with the parents and community down to ass kissing.

Back to work ended Laura and Joe having breakfast together every morning, limiting that pleasure to the weekends when the boys used to join them. This Sunday morning they finished breakfast, and when the smart people on the TV, as they facetiously referred to them, finished pouring their wisdom and opinions, they went into the den, each with sections of the Times and sat at the arms at each end of the sofa.

I miss the boys, Laura said then smiled. I miss them finishing breakfast and leaving, and then being able to talk about our stuff… Our house is half empty.

Joe smiled, Half full.

It’s gonna be a breeze. She smiled. I only have to please you. You’ll have more of me. You’re so lucky. Her expression turned serious. I’m the lucky one." She stood, took a few steps and bending over him she covered his face with repeating light kisses, sat next to him and clenched his hands.

I love you, Laura.

I know. I know. That’s why I’m so lucky. You take care of everything, make everything work right. You know I love you. Never think otherwise,

They embraced and kissed. She then moved her lips across his cheek and whispered into his ear. We have an empty house.

Laura and Marge were spending all their spare time campaigning for Dukakis. Marge wanted so much for Gary to realize that four more years of being like Oliver would be unbearable. But for Gary what was unbearable were hands constantly held out. Witnessing some of their heated debates, prompted Joe to quip, that sparks are good for a marriage.

The four were together when the commercial came on Dukakis not only opposes the death penalty but allows first degree murderers to have weekend furloughs from prison, referring to Willie Horton who raped and murdered on a furlough. After Marge’s rants and raves about dirty politics and fear mongering she went into a hysterical rage after Gary calmly said, but it’s true.

Joe said, Maybe the world is quieting down, Iran is withdrawing from Iraq… one and a half million killed, and Russia is leaving Afghanistan… And gas is still under a dollar.

Yeah, we’ll be fine Laura said. Nancy’ll keep checking the stars and guide Ronald… trickle down wisdom."

Did the stars say Tear Down That Wall, Gary replied. Look at East Germany and how far West Germany has come."

With our help and their brains, Laura said. That proves it, brains need help. Do you think my kids are stupid, Gary?

And what about my kids? Marge said. Born bad, or disturbed?

What do you think? You know this psychology stuff.

Don’t be an asshole.

Joe chuckled, Don’t ask Freud, He only dealt with too much parenting. If it weren’t for this new wine discovery that you’re sharing with us, we could’ve met at the restaurant like always and avoided all this."

It’s a great wine, isn’t it?

Yes, Gary it is. Laura said. Yeah, why talk about it, just keep it under the rug like all the school systems do. A new batch keeps on coming, so much of the old batch eventually dropping out or graduating under prepared.

Marge said, But Laura, you agree that the education system doesn’t want it this way… money.

To waste, Gary said."

You didn’t have to say that, Marge replied angrily. There’s always waste. Look at the companies you deal with, I’m sure that they waste plenty… on each other."

Gary replied, If it is given to you it can be taken away. What you get from what you earn is more apt to be held.

Some don’t want to work, Joe said. But many do. Lots of jobs that were considered unskilled are now more complicated... We still have the edge but the rest of the world is catching up. Not only do our companies have to compete but also so do the workers. If it can’t be done here, we’ll import… even more than now.

Marge said, You think and vote what effects your pocketbook, Gary.

And you think and vote with what’s mine.

Laura smiled. But Gary, yours is Marge’s

Gary smiled. I understand that it’s human nature, getting as much juice as you can out of the orange. But how much can we be squeezed? There has to be a limit to entitlements.

Laura smiled. Entitlements are for the masses, business and the wealthy have accountants. Every loophole, every possible deduction, squeeze the government dry.

Marge chucked. Don’t make fun of my husband’s work.

Laura smiled, My husband’s work supports widows and orphans.

And preserves the wealth of the wealthy, Gary said.

I’m hungry, Joe said.

Michael had a great job this summer, Marge said. It was a wonderful experience for him. You got it for him, Gary. And why not give kids all the help they need, especially this kind of help. Here’s an example, Juan, spent all his teen years in foster care, got into what would be considered by our norm lots of trouble, eventually doing well. Next month he ages out.

Aging out, Laura said, like mandatory promotions.

Yes, age 21, so now the system gives them to us, perhaps with some services but very limited, along with welfare and food stamps… Look what we do for our children. Michael took full control of applying to colleges, even with the things he needed to take along. But we just finished leading Scott every step of the way.

Joe said, Yeah, same difference with our two boys.

Marge continued, Age 21, out into world without any or enough support from parents or family. The same lack of support that brought them into the system in the first place… No more real counseling for Juan, only food stamps, welfare… But he maybe ready to handle a job¾

Gary interrupted. He’s okay, you say. Maybe I could help with the job.

Hey why not, Laura said. That would be wonderful."

Marge leaned forward. There’s a bunch of Juans. Yes¾

Yes, why not. Gary smiled, But not on Joe’s empty stomach.

Gary sprung into action. The following week Juan had a job and before October so did a young lady. He genuinely was glad for the youngsters, glad and proud that he was able to do it. As it was required for the books to balance and be in good order so it was for the task before him to be performed with excellence whether it be proper loading of the dishwasher, servicing his clients or sexual performance. And he was proud of his scruples, which he had to adjust to allow relations with other women. He defended his wanting control. Maximum effort, using one’s ability is how things get done in the best way and is not being a control freak. Everything to do with appearance demanded his constant attention. A spot on his clothes, into the laundry or to the cleaner, in contrast to Joe who would try to wipe it away. His white shirts required laundering, not the wash and wear kind and only worn once. The jacket always pressed and the shoes shined and when he wore white sneakers they were clean. Although not extending to mechanical things where he conceded ineptness, he avoided like the plague asking for assistance. He would gladly give you the time of day but never ask for it. And, of course, he was prone to getting lost because he never asked for directions. Gary was very interested in the occupations of his peers and aware of their houses. Needless to say, his house was attended to like a prize pedigreed pet. Not his cars, however. He kept them as long as they looked okay and ran well. This made good economic sense. At times, however, he could be lots of fun and creative with amusement and pranks- even when not under the influence. And Marge would quip; my uptight husband is down loose. When in public with Marge, he was pleased by his visual comparisons that showed them stacking up well with their peers. And when with Laura and Joe he felt they were an attractive foursome. Joe felt the same. And both would express their pride, often prefacing it with a favored teasing designation such as the virgins are holding up pretty good.

Having just seen Gone With The Wind for