Chapter 48 Crystal
Crystal
By the time the fog cleared, days had passed, and I woke up one morning to find myself in the midst of a moral crisis. “What the fuck did I do?”
Neville had spent the night out and I was still lying in bed, feeling ashamed and confused when he came bounding in the next afternoon all cheery and shit.
“Hey,” he said as he strolled into my bedroom and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Taking a vacation day?”
I just glared at him.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Sitting up, I looked at the clock that sat on the nightstand. It took everything I had in me not to pick it up and knock him in the head with it.
“What’s wrong with me?” I said sarcastically. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Neville’s jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me you’re angry because I didn’t come home last night.”
“This is not your fucking home!” I screamed, and slung a pillow at him.
“Whoa! Whoa!” Neville said, jumping up from the bed and barely blocking the pillow. “Where is all this anger coming from?”
Could he be that fucking ignorant?
“You take me to some, some swingers’ club, feed me ecstasy, let me fuck strangers, and you ask me where the anger is coming from?”
“I did not feed you ecstasy, Crystal. I wouldn’t do something like that to you,” he said defensively. “You had two glasses of champagne and, well, the incense that was burning was an erotic stimulant called Cupid, a perfectly natural narcotic. Like weed.”
I blinked.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that you took me to a place like that and that I did the things I did.”
“No, it doesn’t, but you made a choice to fuck those men.
Nobody put a gun to your head, and besides, why are you so bent out of shape over it?
You’re a grown woman, a grown woman with a generous sexual appetite.
I just thought for a change you’d enjoy being treated to a buffet instead of your usual nightly entrée.
” He said the last part with a wicked smile.
“Besides, since I’ve been doing you, you’ve been happier and less stressed.
If more people fucked, I mean really fucked, there would probably be no wars. ”
This man had lost his mind!
“Did you know,” Neville said, looking down thoughtfully at his hands before looking back at me, “that the bonobos have sex not for the sole purpose of reproduction, but to ease tension, or to comfort? In short, they substitute sex for aggression.”
Yes, yes, he was stone-cold crazy. Here I was grieving over the most immoral behavior I had ever involved myself in, and he was talking about some goddamn monkeys!
“What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Crystal,” he said, reaching for my hands, “that the bonobos are our closest cousins, and they believe in making love, not war, and they’re better for it. We should follow their example.”
Now I’d heard everything! “You are crazy, aren’t you?”
“Far from it,” he said as he stood to leave. “Ask your mother, she’ll tell you.”
“My mother? What does my mother have to do with this?” I threw at his back.
“Just ask her,” he said.