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Brad rolled off of Janet, and the two of them stared at the ceiling.
Another night in the marital bed. Another night doing things the ‘proper way’.
It was good, but…
“Damn it, Janet!” Brad’s fist hit the mattress. He rolled onto his side, towards her, and said, “We have to stop avoiding this; we have to talk about it.”
It had been a few months since their wedding day, and a few more months than that since…that night. Nearly a year. Janet had been dreading this, knowing the silence would not keep forever, wish as she might that it would.
“I know what you’re going to say, Brad,” she whispered, dodging his eyes, “being with plain old Janet isn’t as good as it was with…exotic Frank.”
Brad gasped. “Janet, no!” he cried, wrapping her in his arms. “In a way, it is so much better with you than it ever could have been with Frank. Because,” he murmured, turning her face towards his with his fingertips, “I love you, damn it.”
“Oh Brad!” she rejoiced, now turning to him and returning his embrace, and they were face to face. “I feel the same way.”
“But,” continued Brad quietly, looking to the side, “in another sort of way…”
Janet sombered. “Yes. I feel the same way about that, too.”
Brad seemed to come back to himself then, gaze returning to Janet’s eyes. “No, Janet; don’t be like that. Because,” he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, “this is something we can fix.”
“Oh, Brad. But how?”
“We’ve spent all this time trying to pretend that night didn’t happen, that we are the same people after that, that we were before.”
Janet gave one soft nod. “But we’re not.”
Brad shook his head. “No. We’re not.” He sat up then, looking to the foot of the bed as he said, “We…learned things, about ourselves, about each other.” He looked to her again, as she sat up as well.
“Acting like we don’t remember,” murmured Janet, taking the hand that had been on her shoulder into her own, weaving their fingers, “has been driving us apart.”
“Exactly,” Brad affirmed with a sharp nod. “It’s time that we were honest about…what we enjoyed. That we would like to start…doing.”
“Oh, but Brad!” Janet shook her head, “what would people think, if they knew?”
“Oh, Janet,” Brad scolded, “be sensible! Why would anyone but us two need to know?” When Janet softly agreed, he went on, “I’ll start, since I was the one to bring it up.” Janet looked at him, waiting patiently as he paused. “It’s only fair,” he stalled.
After a long beat of quiet, Janet encouraged, “Go on, Brad. …it can’t be worse than mine.”
Taking in a fortifying breath, Brad began. “Frank…spanked me. And I liked it. A lot.”
“Oh!” She raised the hand that wasn’t clasped with Brad’s to her lips in surprise. “Frank spanked me, too. But I didn’t like it.” It was her turn to try to breathe in strength. “But then I spanked her. ….and I did like that.”
There was a moment of silence, as they sat, looking at each other, processing.
Until Janet finally said-
“Brad.” She withdrew her hand from his, and stood up a little straighter. “Go fetch my hairbrush.”
Brad’s eyes went wide in disbelief and wonder, jaw slightly dropping. “Janet?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Hairbrush. Now.”
Message received, Brad began scrabbling out of bed, nearly dropping himself to the floor. “Damn it!”
“I never said it before, but I don’t care for your swearing, Brad.” She bit her lip. Then she lifted her chin, staring into Brad’s eyes as he stood next to the bed, her large wood paddle brush retrieved from the vanity and in his hands. “I guess I need to…teach you some manners.”
“Oh, Janet,” said Brad, with passion, “I love you!”
“I love you too, Brad. Now, hand me the brush, and lay face down on the bed.”
Brad and Janet’s journey of rediscovery did not end there. But this was a very fruitful beginning. And things would only get better.