A Prison Break Ch. 03

My anxiety was growing with every heartbeat. "Barb? Are you nervous?"

She held me tighter and snuggled her body against mine. "I don't know, maybe a little. Should we… should we take our clothes off?"

I forced a chuckle out. "Yeah, I guess that'd be a good start." We released each other. She wanted to get the show on the road, incredibly my anxiety grew even more intense.

I think she was blushing. "Don't laugh at my underwear."

I smiled, still in an anxiety mode. "If you don't laugh at mine." I watched her start on her zipper. "Wait. Let me do that."

Barb definitely blushed. "All right."

I unzipped the front of her jumpsuit, then nudged it off her shoulders. She was right, her bra looked institutional. I was surprised a bra could be that unappealing. Same with her "full cut" granny underpants. I told her to sit on the edge of the bed and I took off her shoes, socks, then pulled the jumpsuit down and off. She removed her bra, then I slowly pulled the panties down her still slender and toned legs. Barb giggled like a nervous school girl. I smiled looking calm but I was a thousand times more nervous than her. I put her clothes on one of the molded plastic chairs.

"Okay, now I'll undress you."

I watched Barb as she reciprocated. She was gorgeous, stunning really, considering everything. Her breasts were slightly smaller than before, but still looked very firm, not large, but much larger than Lana's. She looked years younger than the day she was incarcerated. She was thinner, more toned now. No one would guess she was thirty-four, no one would say older than twenty-five. Her giggly mood started to wane when she was kneeling on the floor and I was sitting on the edge of the mattress. She saw I didn't have an erection.

"Okay, now these." She pulled the waistband and I raised my ass from the sheet. Her waning smile disappeared as she pulled my shorts passed my feet. She rose, turned her back to me, stepped to the chair, and for some reason slowly folded my briefs and set them on top of my other clothes on the chair next to the one with her clothes.

By the time I stood up, moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her, she was crying softly. I kissed her neck and shoulder then her head. I held her tightly to me. My limp dick pressed against her right bun.

"Y-You don't… think I'm… a-attractive… anymore."

"Barb, that's not true." I felt her tremble as she tried to cry silently. "Barb, stop that. You're beautiful, hot… sexy. Prettier than the night I first saw you."

"Then… why… w-why… why aren't you excited?"

I could easily tell her all the reasons why, the least of which was being locked up in a jiz smeared concrete room within a prison. "Let's lie on the bed, okay?"

She sniffled. "Do you have any… tissues?"

"Yeah, I've got something. Go ahead and lie down." I glanced at the roll of cheap toilet paper next to the metal toilet as I picked up my jeans and got the handkerchief from the back pocket. It was clean and large. I made sure I had two clean, large ones on every visitation day, even though most of the time Barb used napkins. When I turned around I was somewhat surprised Barb had crawled under the top sheet. I handed her the handkerchief and slid under the sheet. She held onto it when I moved closer and put my arm around her shoulders. She put her head on my shoulder.

I sense her about to start crying. I wasn't wrong.

"Is… is there some other woman?"

"No. There's no other woman, there's… just you, Barbara." I rarely called her by her full name. I usually saved that for when I was trying to be romantic. "I love you. I… I think you know I love you. Jeezuz… I'm here every week. I only missed once in the past year and that was to go to Lana's graduation. You're my wife. I love you." I was trying my best to believe everything I said was actually true. At that moment, I wished it all was true.

There was a couple minutes of silence. I was about to tell her I was going to lick her to orgasm when she spoke. I knew she was on the verge of crying yet again.

"Aren't you attracted to me anymore? I… Don't you like the way I loo…"

I broke in, "I just said a few minutes ago that you're beautiful." I took a slow breath. "Barb, I'm so damn sorry and embarrassed. But... come on, cut me a little slack. It's... it's been a year. I'm sober. There's a time clock running on this. I'm nervous as hell about it, about it being good for you, for... both of us. It's like... like it's my first time all over again. Aren't you nervous?"

"I... I was nervous about... about you being nervous and about... about you not liking me... that way... anymore."

I hugged her to me. "Jeezuz, Barb. You were beautiful and hot before, and you still are. Of course I like you... want you that way. God... you've lost weight and toned up more, hell... you look healthier than ever, and younger... jeezuz, you look like a teenager." My gut knotted. She didn't quite look like a teenager, but as I thought when she first was naked, no one would have guessed older than twenty-five. For some reason I vividly recalled the small framed photo of her in Lana's linen closet. Barb, Lana, and Gramma.

Barb started crying again. Her voice was high pitched and whiny, just like Lana when she cried, "I... I wanted this to be... be special, because... I waited, because... because I thought you might... that you'd find someone else, and... an' I... I didn't want to... to stop you because... because it's... it's so l-long t-to wait for m-me. But... but I don't wanna l-lose you either. I wan'... w-wan' you stay with m-me... stay for me... me and Lana. I don'... don't know wha'... wha' I'd do w-without y-you. B-but I... don' wanna m-make your l-life... aw-awf-ful either. Y-you're... it's... l-like... I'm putting y-you in p-prison t-too. I'm... s-s-so s-sorry. I'm s-so sorry." Barb began crying harder, then some sobbing.

I held her closer. When she settled down some, I spoke softly, "Barb we went over all that last Sunday. I love you, there is no other woman, I don't… I'm doing this… I mean, I come here every week because I love you, because you're my wife, because I can't wait for you to be released. But, this today… I… I-I just feel really pressured. I'm the one who should be sorry. I am sorry. This… my lack of an erection, has nothing to do with you, how you look, or how much I love you and know you love me. I… I feel like a goddamn failure most of the time and now I can't even get a goddamn hard-on with the woman I love. I'm sorry. I'm very sorry, sweetheart."

I felt like scum, no, lower than that. I was lying to her constantly now, yet, I did love her, I knew I loved her. Maybe my love had never been good enough or strong enough. Maybe it had always been missing some essential element and I've never been able to figure out what that element is. How could I love Barb, and be fucking her daughter at the same time? How could I love Lana, yet still love Barb? I knew if I wasn't so goddamn nervous, no, not nervous. I know if I wasn't feeling so fucking guilty and anxious about cheating on Barb, and fucking up Lana's life, and cheating on Lana now too, I wouldn't have any problem, even being sober and locked up in a cinder block room, getting a goddamn erection right now.

Why the hell do either of these chicks want to have anything to do with me?! What the fuck do they see in me? I'm nothing but selfish prick, a drunk, a self-centered asshole. If Barb had met some other guy instead of me, I bet she could have kicked the booze, could have gotten sober. Whenever we've quit together, I was always the one pulling her down again-- C'mon, just one drink, baby. I don' wanna drink alone, jus' a li'l one-- either that or coming home pissed off and wasted, then Barb saying hell with it too. She would never have killed that kid if she hadn't met me. She'd never have been in this prison. She never would have been in this goddamn 'fucking room.' All of this shit was my fault. ALL OF IT!

I held Barb closer. She was still crying a little, and sniffling a lot. "I've got another handkerchief in my jeans. Want it?"

"Yes, please. And... an' then... will you just keep holding me?"

That's what I did. I was going to say I wanted to lick her pussy, but I knew that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted me hard, she wanted to make love or at least screw a guy with a full, hard, erection. That was the only thing on her list. Holding her was all I was capable of doing in that small, awful room.

Near the end of our 50 minute conjugal period, before the timer went off, we got dressed. I helped Barb strip the bed. We even folded the sheets. Before I could help her with spraying the cleaner/disinfectant and wiping everything down, two guards opened the door. The female bitch watched Barb clean, and the same fuckin' prick who had escorted me in, walked me down the hall. Another guard escorted me back to the main building. I went through another check-in and waited for Barb in the cafeteria.

When Barb finally arrived, we had a little over a half hour left to visitation. I think Barb interpreted my quietness and not meeting her eyes very often as embarrassment, not guilt, remorse, and feeling worse than scum. Whenever I did look into her pretty blue eyes I saw both love and something like fear in them. I didn't look into them very long. I knew if I did, I'd either spill my guts about me and Lana, or just start bawling like a fuckin' little kid.

About every five minutes when the conversation would dry up I'd say, "Barb, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

She'd say something like, "Honey, don't worry about it. I... I know you... we both were under a lot of pressure." She had taken my invented excuse as fact and adopted it too.

She didn't know that most if not all of my repeated apology was for fucking her daughter, shitting on my marriage vows, cheating on her, and not because I couldn't get it up. I was scared to death I'd not be able to get hard for the next conjugal visit.

"Barb, I'll... I'll do better next time. When will that be? You said the wait is a couple months?"

"Uh-huh. Two to three months."

"Will you put us on the list?"

She smiled sadly and nodded. "Uh-huh."

I looked into her eyes a little too long. I started to lose it. Mine welled up and my throat tightened. My voice cracked as I said, "Barbara, I... I love you. I really d-do. You truly are beautiful and a g-good woman. I'm glad you're m-my wife. I'm so damn lucky that… that you married me. I love you, sweetheart. Please believe that. And… and I'm so damn sorry about the room today." Among all the other crap I was feeling, I added 'wimp' to the list.

She smiled with trembling lips as her face scrinched and her eyes welled even more than mine, so much so that tears ran down each cheek of her pretty face.

I put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her head.

Her voice was squeaky, "I... I love you so much."

When the visitation period was over, I warmly kissed Barb and hugged her close. She held me very tightly. Before I had a chance to say my normal line at the end, she said a variation of it to me, "Don't worry, honey, I really have a feeling everything's going to get better for you, me, Lana, all of us very soon. I really feel that."

Of course, I couldn't see how that was possible. I gave her head a quick kiss. "I think so too, sweetheart."

"Tell Lana I love her, and that I missed her very much today."

My guilt expanded again. "Yeah. Yeah, I will."

"I better go now."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see ya next week, Barbara."

I pulled my arms from around her and smiled. She was teary eyed again but put a brave smile on her face. She started towards the door where she'd be searched, halfway there she turned her head around and saw me watching her. It made her smile, a real smile. She gave me a cupped hand little wave, which was very cute and reminded me of the few times Lana had done the same thing. She turned and I watched her until she disappear into the other room.

I wanted to run after her, grab her and kiss her passionately, tell her again I really did love her, tell her I'd be the best damn husband ever, tell her I'd never even look at another woman again. I really wanted all of that to be true, wanted it with all my heart and soul. I also hoped with all my heart that Lana wouldn't have anything to do with me again. And if she wanted to start it again. I'd refuse. I loved Barb. I wanted to be a good husband to her. I wanted to be with my wife, with Barbara.

I stood there staring at the now closed steel door. I was on the verge crying again. I was the last free person to leave the cafeteria.

As I started driving home, I couldn't have felt like a bigger fucking asshole or a worse excuse for a man, nor could I have hated and despised myself more. As I drove through the now beige and brown harvested cornfields, I wondered how two pretty women, well, at least one woman and one teenage girl, how in hell could they both love me? I was a cheating husband to one, and a cheating boyfriend to the other. I was a drunk, and a mean son-of-a-bitch sometimes. I was a guy who was always a few words away from losing his goddamn job. Not only could I not keep my marriage vows, I couldn't even get my ass to work on time consistently, no matter how many times I promised Jim I would.

Did I truly love Barb? My eyes welled up so much at posing that question to myself again, I had to wipe them to see. Yeah, most of the time I did think I loved her. Then again, did I even know what the hell love was? If I really loved her would I have fucked her daughter? If I really loved her wouldn't I have been able to quit drinking? Before I met her, for years before I met her, I really thought when I found the right chick, really loved her, got married, I would be able to quit. What the hell happened to that? Yes, I loved her. I loved her as much as an asshole like me could love someone. What the hell did that mean though?

I loved her but it was all right to cheat on her? I loved her but it was all right to lie to her every time I saw her? Not only lie but put on the whole charade, the street theater of me and Lana just being friends now? That we were just getting along better now, nothing more than that? Barb wasn't stupid, sooner or later she was going to see there was something more there. I was trying to save more money to help Lana go away to college, but the bills were still eating up most of my paycheck, a good chunk of that was still paying the goddamn lawyer and the fucking community college bills.

Was I hoping that was the answer to all this shit I had gotten myself into? That Lana would go away to school and find some other guy? Did I love her too? Did she dump me this past week but neglected to actually say the words to me? She did say she didn't want to fuck me, but was that just in anger? Why did I feel even more like I was cheating when I was with Barb in the fuck room today, than when I was with Lana screwing her at home? How ass backwards was that?

What the hell did I feel for Lana? How could I love two women at the same time? How is that even possible? It had always been nearly impossible to find one to love, in fact, until Barb, I probably never loved any chick, at least not until they dumped me, then I loved them or thought I did. They'd finally get fed up with my drinking, with me being an asshole, then when it was too late, I'd vow to clean up my act and would beg them to give me another chance. It had always been too late then.

I had always thought that it was bullshit stereotyping that chicks would constantly change their minds. Maybe they took longer to make up their minds about something, but once they did, that decision was set in concrete. It was guys who changed their minds more. Or, maybe it was just me who couldn't stick to any decision, not even my marriage vows.

The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed a drink, more than one drink.

I kept mulling it over, spinning my mental wheels as the miles slipped by under the truck. Finally I slowed to angle onto the exit ramp that led to home or to Sully's. At the end of the ramp I stopped for the red traffic light. When it switched to green I turned right not left. I guess the ramp led to Sully's. Five minutes later I pulled into the parking lot, got out of truck and went inside.

There was some football game on the big TV, most everyone was at the tables watching it. The bar was nearly empty, just a couple of real drunks, like me. Greg wasn't working. I couldn't recall the name of the guy who was. I said hello and ordered a draft, finished that off pretty quickly, then order another. Took a sip, said hell with it to myself, and called the guy over again and ordered a double bourbon rocks. I figured I'd drink both slowly. It was my usual lie to myself. I surprised myself though, I actually started out drinking that bourbon pretty slow, little sips.

I thought about the situation again. I guess it was less the situation and more about Barb and Lana. Actually it was probably both. Even though it wasn't the same, I had a similar sensation inside me like all the times before Barb was in the slam, when both Barb and Lana were pissed off at me. I had hurt both of them this week. Why couldn't I make anyone happy? Yet, why did they both say they loved me? Well, Lana hadn't actually said it, but I thought she felt it. She would have said it if I had let her.

Why did they love me? Were they both just scared of being alone? Don't they realize, even Barb when she gets out and if she can stay sober, that both her and Lana can get almost any guy they wanted, a guy not like me, not a drunk, not a self-centered prick?

And how in hell can I feel and believe I love them both, yet I'm cheating on Barb and if I can get it up, I'll soon be cheating on Lana. How can I love them both? Is it that I don't know what the hell love really is? What the hell is love anyway? Does anyone really know what it is? You love a person if you'd give up your life for them? Soldiers do that for guys they don't even know. Would I give up my life for Barb? For Lana? I shook my head. It was a silly assed question. Okay, yeah... if I saw a bus coming at either one of them, I'd push them out of the way knowing I'd get smacked and killed. But... was that because I loved them, or because I knew if I didn't, I'd never be able to live with the guilt of not doing it?

For a moment I wondered if anyone else ever had thoughts like I was having.

An image of Lana appeared in my mind. I wondered if it was over with her. She was really angry about me seeing Barb today. I wondered if I should tell her I didn't screw Barb, then she'd probably ask why, and what would I tell her? The truth? That I couldn't get it up mainly because I felt guilty about fucking her, fucking Lana? That I was feeling guilty about every goddamn thing? What if Lana comes back to me, and then in a couple months or whenever Barb can get another conjugal visit, will Lana and I go through this whole fucking thing again? What if we go through it all a second time, and I still can't get it up with Barb? What the hell was the title of that play by Sartre? No Exit? Was that it? Our lives would become a repetitive hell?

I had to figure out what to say and do. I kept thinking and mulling and ordering double bourbons. Barb and Lana. Lana and Barb. I loved both of them as well as I could love. Was that the real truth? Was it also true that Lana had dumped me? That it was over between us because I had gone to fuck my wife and even if I couldn't get it up it was still over between Lana and me? Was I spinning mental wheels for no reason? Maybe she had made my decision about what to do plain and simple, because her decision was already set in concrete.