Freaky Fuckday

Chris threw up his hands in frustration and shouted, "I'm so sorry for wanting to have a healthy sexual relationship with my wife! I'm sorry that I practically have to beg before you'll have sex with me! You would rather be doing work for your job than make love with me. Do you realize how pathetic and emasculated that makes me feel? I'm not cheating on you with Debbie, I swear on my life. But you have to admit that at least she makes me feel desired."

Emily was shocked to see tears forming in Chris's eyes. He never raised his voice; she thought this was the first time he'd yelled at her in all the nine years they've been in a relationship. Emily had never seen him this vulnerable. She felt bad for him and didn't want to hurt him. But he was just not getting it.

"Well I just feel awful that I have such a great job that I enjoy going to that pays really well too," Emily said sarcastically. "I'm really sorry that my life and career is such an inconvenience to you. You do realize when I get home late from work I still have dinner to make, dishes to wash, laundry to do, floors to clean, et cetera, et cetera?"

Emily smacked the back of her hand into the palm of her opposite hand as she listed off every grievance.

"While I'm doing all that you are usually drinking a beer and watching TV," accused Emily. "And then you have the audacity to complain that I don't make time for you?"

That seemed to shut Chris up for a minute. He replied quietly as he looked down at his shoes, "Do you need me to do more around the house? Is that what this is about? I am more than willing to step up. Anything to help you."

Emily sighed and shook her head as she bit her lip. After a moment of silence she said, "I just wonder if it's already too late for us."

Chris looked up with shock on his face and cried with dismay, "Too late for us? That can't be. I love you more than anything, Emily. I want to make this work. I'd do anything for you."

"Well, obviously something about this relationship isn't working," Emily said as she sobbed. "You've known it for years just as well as I have. Maybe we were never actually meant to be together? Maybe you just stayed with me because you felt guilty for cheating on me and I only stayed because I was scared of losing you and being alone again. What if we've merely been comfortable but not actually in love?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Chris lamented as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. "You're really giving up on us that easily?"

"I don't know," Emily said with a shrug. "I need more time to think about this. I need to remember again why we fell in love. Right now I can't recall why we ever thought this would work."

~Chris~

Chris looked toward the front door and said flatly, "I don't think I can be here right now. I'll leave you alone to think."

Without another word, Chris ran up the stairs of their two-story home and quickly grabbed a change of clothes to wear to work tomorrow and threw it all into a duffel bag along with his toothbrush and a bar of deodorant. Chris barely looked at Emily as he opened the front door and slammed it shut behind him as he left.

While Chris drove around aimlessly, his managers finally contacted him for their stupid conference call. What asshole schedules this shit for after 8pm on a Thursday night? Chris tried not to let it seem too obvious that he had just been bawling his eyes out while he sort of mumbled his way through the quarterly reports and financial figures like he actually gave a damn. He drove a whole circle around town before those bastards finished hemming and hawing over the loss of half a percentage point of sales before Chris was finally able to hang up.

Chris just loved Emily so much. He made a mistake once, he knew there was no way for her to overlook that. But after being caught cheating, Chris swore that from that day on he would never touch another woman and he had held true.

Why couldn't they go back to the way they used to be? Back when Emily smiled at seeing him rather than frowning. Back when Chris seemed like the most important thing in the world to her. That all too-brief and wonderful time when their sex had been insanely hot and frequent.

Chris would never forget the first time he saw Emily. She looked so cute sitting at her desk with her frizzy hair and glasses. Her hands were clasped together on the desk in front of her with her notebook, pen, and yellow highlighter laid out with perfect organization as she waited for class to begin. Emily spoke voluntarily in class with great reluctance but when she was called on by the professor she always spoke with intelligence and confidence. Emily hid herself behind unflattering clothing but the glimpses that Chris managed to steal proved that Emily owned a voluptuous body. Chris wasn't trying to leer at her, he was just noticing everything he loved most about women personified in his desk neighbor.

Chris tried several times to engage Emily in conversation but she was so shy and withdrawn that she only gave terse one-word replies to his queries. That reaction was far from what Chris typically received from the opposite sex and it drove him even crazier with need. His desire strengthened every day he saw her until it got to the point where Chris couldn't stop thinking about Emily and was having trouble sleeping at night. Finally Chris couldn't help himself and after two weeks of torture by proximity he blurted out to Emily that he thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Nothing in Chris's life had ever given him more pleasure than seeing the happy smile that slowly grew over Emily's face until it took control of her features.

Sure, Chris had partied and slept around plenty as an underclassmen. But he always preferred long-lasting committed relationships and with Emily he knew he had found the one. As in, THE one. They spent literally all their free time together and the sex was amazing. Despite her demure nature, Emily was a firecracker in the sack and she couldn't seem to get enough of Chris's dick. But their relationship and sex life became strained after Chris cheated on her and it took a long time before those could be repaired. They still could make love and enjoy the act but Chris could tell Emily acted more guarded around him now and her once endless enthusiasm for sex had waned considerably.

Chris understood that Emily had some issues with body image and was very self-conscious about her figure. He was sure that contributed a lot to her reluctance to show off her body and have sex regularly. Emily endured an extremely long awkward phase stretching from third grade to ninth grade where was overweight and had too-large glasses, bad hair, and bad teeth. She fixed the hair, teeth, and glasses but in high school Emily started losing weight naturally and just went with it until she became a fullblown anorexic. Thankfully, she didn't succumb to her eating disorder and got her head in the right place so she could find a healthy balance in her weight.

Chris thought Emily had a fantastic body. He could run his hands up and down her curves all day long. Yeah, he had noticed Emily had put on more weight recently but Chris didn't give a fuck. As long as she was still living healthy, Chris would still love Emily and want to have sex with her even if she weighed three-hundred pounds. If only there was some way Emily could see herself the way Chris saw her.

Chris's eyelids drew together until they were nearly closed before Chris shook his head back and forth to ward off sleepiness. Chris looked down at the clock with surprise as he realized it was past midnight already. How long had he spent just driving around? Chris barely listened to the chatter over the radio as he searched for a nearby hotel he could spend the night at. Some scientist on the airwaves droned on about some rare celestial event taking place from tonight through Saturday morning. Something about the orbits of Mars and Venus being in perfectly alignment so they formed a planetary eclipse when viewed from Earth. Chris turned the radio off as the sounds were distracting him from his thoughts.

After Chris found a hotel and booked a room (hopefully just for one night) he sprinted across the busy highway nearby to a gas station where he bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Good old American Spirits, Chris thought as he exited the gas station and lit up. It was the first cigarette he had smoked in five years.

Chris hacked and coughed his way through his first cigarette during his brisk walk back to the hotel. He lit up another as soon as he smoked the first one all the way down to the filter. Chris tried clearing his mind and not thinking about Emily so he could enjoy the nicotine buzz. But he couldn't help himself. Was his marriage really over? Why was it impossible for Emily see how utterly devoted Chris was to her? He would never think of cheating on her again but she still didn't trust him enough to believe him.

Once Chris returned to his hotel, he decided he would have one last cigarette then call it a night. While he smoked, Chris leaned against the balcony outside his hotel room that overlooked an empty pool. Chris held the cigarette between his thin fingers and his eyes followed the grey smoke upward until he gazed at the stars shining brightly in the clear night sky. He noticed a warm orange light shining in the cosmic darkness and watching it made Chris feel strangely comforted. That orange light must be coming from somewhere relatively nearby to be showing that large and bright.

Chris stared at that orange light so long and hard that it felt like the all-consuming light had totally encompassed him. His thoughts strayed toward Emily again as he looked up and Chris spoke to the light: "I just wish Emily could realize how much I love her. That I've stayed true to her. I wish there was some way she could know how beautiful she is to me and know that I'd do absolutely anything to keep her. Please, I just want her to understand I still love her."

Chris sighed loudly as he finally looked away from the stars and back down to the cold, grey concrete below him. He flicked his cigarette off the side of the balcony before turning and heading back to his room to try and find some sleep.

~Emily~

Emily sobbed loudly and blew her nose into a tissue with a ridiculously exaggerated honking noise before discarding the yucky Kleenex in a small trash bin next to her nightstand. God, I'm such a fucking mess, Emily thought. She had tried working on her big presentation for tomorrow while laying on her and Chris's bed in her pajamas but she was too distraught to focus on anything except her grief. A rather unfortunate situation considering that the most important meeting of Emily's life and career so far would be taking place tomorrow afternoon.

Emily had been chugging wine, consuming ice cream, and crying her eyes out since Chris left. She really loved that big lug, despite everything. But maybe they were just too different of people to be happy together. Chris was handsome and sociable, always at ease around others even in an unfamiliar setting. He always wanted to go out and do things, he wasn't content just sitting around.

Emily on the other hand was neurotic and morose. She would be perfectly fine staying in every evening with Chris and never going out. It seemed like Chris was always having to drag her anywhere to actually be social. While Chris was easygoing, Emily was a perfectionist and an obsessive. The biggest problem though seemed to be that Emily was too sensitive while Chris wasn't sensitive enough. He had this annoying habit that Emily didn't think he was even aware of where he assumed he was always right and discounted any differing opinions. Emily sometimes wondered if she was just holding him back from the life he would prefer to live. Maybe this new affair was a cry for help, a gasp for freedom from a stifling life and a frigid wife. That still didn't make what he did okay though.

Emily reflected on how often Chris tried to cheer her up when she was feeling down, how much emotional baggage and shit he had to deal with being married to a basket case. Emily thought of how true it was that she never made time for him any more. She had pushed him to the periphery of her existence where his placement would be more comfortable for her while Emily sorted out her life and career. God, who could blame him if he did cheat on me, Emily thought with disatisfaction. I might do the same if he were that way with me.

Emily rolled over with a pitiable groan and looked out the window through tearful, red-rimmed eyes. Curiously, a bright orange light shined like a star in the sky outside Emily's window. The light hung in the air at the perfect angle for Emily to look at it directly as she laid on her pillow. The powerful glow entranced Emily and for a moment she forgot her troubles.

When Emily's thoughts again turned to her husband she spoke to the light: "I wish Chris could know how difficult everything is for me. If only he knew what it's like to be in my shoes. Then he might understand how I'm underappreciated and overlooked at my job despite how hard I work. How that then makes me feel like I have to work even harder to the detriment of my health, marriage, and happiness. Maybe then he could understand why I feel gross and fat all the time even when he tells me how amazing I look. I don't think he realizes how difficult this relationship is sometimes. I know I have my own issues, but Chris can be so arrogant and insensitive sometimes. He never helps around the house. He thinks he's entitled to sex whenever he wants it and gets upset when it doesn't happen. His time and needs always seem to be more important than mine."

Emily reached up to close the blinds to her window and the orange light was removed from her sight. Emily rolled onto her back and sighed. "But I still love him," she whispered plaintively.

Emily's eyes closed and she fell into a deep slumber.

~Chris~

The shrill of the alarm clock woke Chris at 5am like usual. He didn't want to get up, he felt too comfortable wrapped up in the warm, plush blankets of his king-size bed. Chris detected a presence missing next to him and he reached out his arm to find Emily.

"Emily?" Chris groaned sleepily.

Chris wondered if he was coming down with something. His voice sounded strangely high-pitched. Chris sighed when his arm found only mattress and he realized Emily wasn't lying next to him. Maybe she'll never want to sleep next to me again, Chris thought sadly.

Chris reached groggily for the alarm clock and slammed the palm of his hand down upon the device without success repeatedly until he managed to shut the damn thing off. That was when he had a sudden and disturbing revelation. That was his alarm clock. The one that normally sat on his nightstand next to the lamp. Chris's vision was all blurry and he rubbed his eyes to clear them before making sure he was actually in his bedroom. His eyesight remained just as poor as his eyelids fluttered open and he looked around the room. Chris supposed he finally needed to get some corrective lenses though his vision had never been close to this bad. Chris looked around with bewilderment as he realized he had fallen asleep in his hotel room but woke up back in his bed at home. What the hell happened? Where was Emily?

Chris jumped out of bed and looked down at his pajamas. They were different than what he had fallen asleep in. Rather than the gym shorts and t-shirt he wore to bed he was instead clad in flannels and a very feminine nightie. Extremely weird. Chris hadn't had long hair since his freshman year of college but he thought he felt hair touching his shoulders. Chris's chest felt heavy and looked even larger. His whole body felt strange actually. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Chris stumbled his way to the bathroom and flipped the light switch on. He looked into the bathroom mirror and a loud, girlish voice screamed at him. It was Chris's own voice crying out as he saw his wife's face staring back at him from the mirrored reflection.

~Emily~

Emily stretched herself awake as she rolled over onto her back. The pillows her head rested upon felt cold and hard, nothing like the soft, fluffy ones she was used to. And what the hell was this small-ass bed? Emily sat up and rubbed her face in her hands as she smacked her lips. Her mouth tasted disgusting, like she had licked an ashtray right before bed last night.

Emily looked around with confusion and realized she didn't recognize this place at all. It appeared to be some hotel room but she had no memory of how she arrived here. The last thing she remembered was closing the blinds after looking at that weird orange light and falling asleep on her bed. Emily felt her horror mounting as she jumped out of bed and looked down at her clothes. Rather than the plaid flannels and nightie she had worn to bed the night before she was instead clad in black gym shorts and a plain white t-shirt. Emily shivered in terror as she wondered who had changed her clothes while she slept.

As Emily looked down at herself she felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach when her gaze fell over her chest. Emily pressed her hands down on her breast where her extremely noticeable bosom used to be. The area was completely flat now. What the fuck happened to my boobs, thought Emily as a wave of nausea turned her stomach. That's when she detected something dangling between her legs.

Emily tentatively reached down and used her thumb to stretch open the waistband of her shorts. She peeked inside the athletic wear only to find that growing from her body was a long, hairy, wormlike member that curled inside her shorts. The nausea soon became overpowering and Emily rushed to the bathroom.

After Emily lifted the toilet seat lid and dropped to her knees she moved her hands up to her hair to hold its length out of the way as she hurled. But when Emily grabbed at the back of her hair her hands gripped nothing at all. She felt at her scalp and found only a thin layer of hair growing there. It was like someone had cut off all of Emily's tresses during the night without her noticing. Emily dry-heaved into the toilet bowl a couple times but was never actually able to vomit. The nausea passed after a moment. Emily's sense of curiosity had overpowered her terror as she wondered what the hell was going on.

Emily walked to the bathroom mirror and was almost too nervous to find out what might be looking at her in that reflection. She jumped in front of the mirror and cried out in shock when she saw Chris's face staring back at her. She hopped to the side out of view of the mirror and slowly moved her head back into the frame so she could peer into the glass. The reflection remained unchanged.

"What the fuuuuuuck," Emily whispered as she stared at Chris's handsome and very surprised-looking visage.

I must still be dreaming, Emily thought. This is just a really really messed up dream. Emily touched the cheeks and forehead that she had usurped from her husband and poked at her features a bit. Chris's face felt firm and warm. Either this is the most vivid dream ever or I've had such a complete nervous breakdown that I've completely broken with reality, Emily thought. She pinched her cheek between her fingers. Okay, she could definitely feel that. Emily pinched herself again, harder.

"Ow," Emily muttered. "Alright, fuck it."

Emily slapped herself across the face as hard as she could. The satisfaction she obtained from being able to smack her husband's face without repercussion quickly faded as a sharp stinging pain spread over her cheek like pins and needles pricking her skin. A red handprint covered the left side of Chris's face in the mirror where Emily had slapped herself.

"Okay, okay, okay," Emily repeated to herself nervously as she backed out of the bathroom. "This is weird, this is weird, this is weird, this is so fucking weird."