The Peg
We’re in a club. Lace and I are waiting at a bar to order more sambuca. I can’t remember the name of the club, but it was my idea to go.
After the mums left, Rebecca suggested that we should have a proper hen party.
We’ve since crawled from tacky bar to tacky bar, drinking the most garish cocktails on the menu.
We booed Rebecca when she had to go home.
We told her that Benson is big enough to look after himself, but it didn’t work. Nina, Lace, Abi and I remain.
Abi is on the dance floor with a man who matches her cheesy dancing style. Nina is sitting in a booth having a deep conversation with a woman she found in the toilets.
‘My parents didn’t have sex for five years,’ I say into Lace’s ear. ‘Five years!’ I hold up five fingers. Lace nods.
‘I’m aware,’ she shouts. It’s not the first time I’ve said it tonight, but I can’t let it go.
What happens if it’s a genetic thing? There are women like Jean-Ivy and Natalie, who men want to have sex with, and there are women like Mum and me, who men have relationships with, even love, but never truly desire.
‘That’s going to be me. Isn’t it? I will be just like my mum,’ I shout to Lace. She leans in and puts her mouth to my ear.
‘Did you try my sex tips?’ she shouts. I give her a defeated nod. ‘And still nothing? Did you ever do the pegging thing?’
‘I don’t know if I can. I mean, how do you even begin?’
Lace puts her hand on my shoulder and looks at me with empathy. ‘Sex is not your problem,’ she says. Then points to my mouth. ‘That’s your problem.’
‘Kissing?’
‘No, you need to talk to him.’ She makes a talking mouth with her hands.
‘I don’t know how.’
‘Exactly, that’s your problem, and it’s huge.’
‘No, the problem is he wants to be pegged,’ I shout.
Lace is about to say something, but the barman gets her attention. She turns away from me and orders another round of shots.
That’s the problem, he wants to be pegged.
He needs something, and I’m too frigid to do it, like I was too frigid for Hugo.
I’m still that same girl who laughs at ball sacks because they look like Jabba the Hutt.
That’s what divides the Amys from the Natalies – sexual confidence.
I give Lace a hug from behind. ‘Thank you, Lace.’ She turns back.
The barman is filling up a line of shot glasses with sambuca.
‘Where are you going?’ she asks.
‘I’m going to peg him,’ I yell.
‘No! Amy, not tonight!’ she says. She tries to grab my hand, but I pull it away.
‘Yes, tonight! If I can't peg my own fiancé now, then when can I?’
‘Amy,’ Lace pleads. I kiss her on the forehead, grab a shot and down it.
I push my way back through the crowd. I wave to Nina in her booth, but she’s too engrossed in her conversation to notice.
Abi and the man are still dancing. They’re doing the night fever dance to Beyoncé.
I get outside and order an Uber. There are five missed calls from Josh.
How strange, he never calls like that. I try calling, but he doesn’t pick up, so I text him.
Coming home! Stay Up!!!! I have a surprise!
Dino, an old Italian man with 4.3 stars, picks me up. After two attempts, I manage to open the door of his car.
‘Amy?’ Dino asks. He has a gorgeous accent. Tanned with grey hair. I bet he was stunning when he was young. Or maybe I’m just beer-goggling the Uber driver.
‘That’s me.’
We drive off. There is a fresh bottle of water in the back which I help myself to. Dino is playing Classic FM and I suddenly become very excited because, for the first time ever, I recognise the music.
‘OH MY GOD, TOSCA!’ I clap.
‘You know the song?’ Dino says, surprised.
‘Yes, it’s Tosca’s lover. He’s singing about how the stars are shining.’
‘And the earth is smelling,’ Dino adds.
‘Right!’
I’m impressed that I remember this, and Dino seems very impressed too. He turns it up, and we smile at each other in his rear-view mirror. He’s going to get five stars.
*
I get home. Josh is in bed; he didn’t stay up for me, so I’m going to have to wake him up. I know I can solve our issue tonight. I turn on our bedroom light and stumble over to the drawers.
‘What are you doing, Amy?’ Josh moans and puts Skogsfr?ken over his head.
‘I’ve got a surprise. You’ll love it,’ I say.
I am rummaging through my knitwear drawer.
I throw the cardigans out, and then I see it in the corner.
‘Don’t look,’ I say. Josh groans with exasperation.
He’s moody now, but I know he’ll be so happy when he finds out what I am going to do to him.
‘Don’t look . . . Don’t look . . .’ I get naked and put on the strap-on.
I turn around, remote control in my hand and press the on button.
It begins to vibrate. The sound makes Josh jolt up.
‘Get on all fours,’ I demand as I walk towards him.
I stumble on my dark matter book but recover.
I stand over him. He looks at my face, then at The Big Purple Pleasure around my hips.
His eyes are wide. He looks as terrified as the men on his porn videos, but that’s all part of the role play.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he shouts, eyeing up the dildo.
‘Get on all fours, you . . . you . . . pathetic pussy.’
‘Did you take something? Are you okay? Amy?’ He holds on to Skogsfr?ken.
I grab the pillow and throw it away.
‘What the fuck?’ He jumps up and stands on the opposite side of the bed with hands out ready to defend himself.
I notice his boxers, and how flat they are.
This isn’t the reaction I was expecting, considering it’s been 220 nights and I’m performing his kink.
‘Amy, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you’re drunk, and you need to go to sleep. ’
‘I’m trying to peg you,’ I tell him, in case it’s not obvious already.
‘You’re trying to peg me?’ he says back, like it’s the craziest thing in the world that his fiancée is trying to do something sexual to him.
‘I saw your porn history. I know you want to be pegged like the . . . bad boy you are.’ As I say it, my jaw tightens with discomfort, but I have to carry on. ‘You bad boy . . . allowing carrot cake at our wedding!’
‘I thought you wanted carrot cake!’ He seems distressed and not at all turned on. Still, I don’t want to give up. I crawl onto the bed and kneel up.
‘I want to stick these veins in you.’
‘Veins?’ He frowns. I point to the vein details on the dildo, and he looks like he may be sick. (Note – Gemma was wrong; not all men like veins.)
‘Wait,’ Josh says, pointing at me. ‘Did you say you saw my porn history?’
‘We’re going a bit off course,’ I mutter, still kneeling with the dildo on full blast vibration.
‘Did you go through my laptop? Because that’s bang out of order if you have.’ He picks up my notebook. ‘What if I looked in here? How would you feel?’ He starts flicking through it.
‘No, don’t. Put that down,’ I yell. Panicked, because I wouldn’t know how to explain the pages of tally marks.
He drops it. Thankfully. ‘Sorry,’ I say quickly whilst I regain my balance.
The strap-on is quite heavy. ‘Can we just do this pegging thing, and then we can go to sleep, and live happily ever after?’ I say.
I know I’ve drunk a lot tonight, but surely, he can see the sense in that too.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t want to do that with you,’ he snaps.
I get off the bed.
There it is. The rejection in black and white. I don’t want to do that with you. Josh gets back into bed and pulls the cover over himself. ‘Turn that thing off and go to sleep.’
‘Josh . . .?’ I plead.
‘Go to sleep, Amy. You’ve done enough damage for one day,’ he says coldly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’ll talk in the morning when you’re sober.’
I press the button on the remote, and it goes through the seven vibrations until it’s completely off.
I feel like the unsexiest woman alive. There are probably farm animals that feel sexier than I do right now.
I chuck The Big Purple Pleasure across the room.
It hits the wall, making a loud bang. Josh doesn’t even flinch.