Dirty talk

"No way, Joan! This is ridiculous and unacceptable. You have been married for three years. Three years is not a joke." Grace exclaimed in shock, disbelief evident on her face at what she just heard.

"I mean it," Joan affirmed, her green eyes doing nothing to hide the pain in her heart. "Richard has not touched me since we got married." She revealed, lowering her eyes and playing with her food.

In the luxurious surroundings of the fancy restaurant, soft jazz melodies wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance.

Crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the well-dressed patrons engaged in hushed conversations.

The chairs were plush and velvety, cradling diners in comfort, while linen-clad tables enhanced the overall sophisticated ambiance.

Joan Brandon, twenty-six years old, blonde, beautiful, with large green doe eyes, was invited out by her best friend and colleague, Grace Everton, who noticed the latter was feeling lower than normal that day.

It was a usual thing for the girls to treat each other to either brunch, lunch, or dinner. But today was special. It was the eve of Joan's birthday, and Grace decided dinner was taking place in one of the fanciest restaurants in town.

Just as she suspected, the burden in Joan's heart was not one to be overlooked. Not one she expected her friend to be carrying.

"You've been married for three years, Jo. And you're saying…" Grace asked and Joan shook her head in response to the unfinished question, already knowing where it was headed.

"Not even one time. It doesn't matter what I do, how I dress, how many times I complain or try to seduce him. Nothing has worked." Joan confirmed, and Grace's shock could not be contained.

"I would have asked if he was impotent, but considering how he flirts around and womanize, I believe his stuff works properly. Why didn't you say something? How can you endure this for three years?" Grace asked, annoyance coloring her face.

"I know he is only doing that to frustrate me, and I hoped, I mean, I desperately hoped he would come around. But I've given up at this point. I don't know what else to do."

Grace let out a sigh of defeat, and pulled her body away from the table. She leaned her back against the backrest of her chair as her fingers softly caressed the body of her wine glass.

Twenty-seven years, chubby, dark wavy hair, and a face that showed she was created for the soft life, Grace's obsidian black eyes revealed her disapproval of the way her friend was being treated.

"Let me get this straight, Jo," Grace uttered with a serious expression. "You made a little mistake after college and had to pay for your sins by marrying Richard just to save your family's name and business. He turned out to be a jerk, something none of us expected, and you stay faithful to him while he fools around with different call girls and college students, leaving you, his legally married wife, sex-starved for three years. Also, you can't divorce him because that, of course, would affect your family's business. Is that correct?" Grace asked, no hint of amusement on her face.

"Bring your voice down." Joan reprimanded her, moving her eyes around to ensure no one was listening to their conversation, as Grace's voice had gone a little higher than normal.

"Is that correct?" Grace repeated the question, speaking in a hushed tone this time.

"You already know the full story. Why are you asking like that?"

"Because I got the solution to your problem," Grace revealed.

"You do?" Joan asked, slight relief coming to settle on her features.

"I do." Grace nodded in affirmation. "Since you have decided not to take my offer and leave this country, then the only other solution is this. You need a guy on the side to satisfy your sexual needs."

"What?!" Joan exclaimed in shock, her eyes stretching wide. "You're joking, right?"

"Joking? Hell freaking no! I am very serious about this. No way I'm standing by and watching one stupid boy in the body of a man torture you that way when I can do something about it. Or don't you miss being with a man?" Grace probed, and Joan, once again, darted her eyes around.

"Bring your voice down, Grace."

"Answer the question." Grace insisted, prompting Joan to let out a sigh.

"You know I do. I miss the security and the comfort of being wrapped in the arms of a man." Joan confessed, but Grace rolled her eyes.

"Not just the arms, girl. The entire package."

Joan let out a chuckle. "Nah... I have a truckload of the troubles, the stress, and the heartache at home, and I've been getting overdosed for three years. It's the good stuff I don't have and terribly miss. Stop suggesting a side guy. If I'm caught, Richard will have a good reason to divorce me, and I'm not aiming for that."

"You won't be caught. Trust me." Grace declared with full confidence.

"I'm not consenting to it. Whatever you do is of your own accord." Joan uttered, and Grace nodded in agreement.

"I will gladly take the blame. I won't let you do that to yourself. I mean, you brought me to the wild side and you expect me to watch as you slowly turn into a nun? Never!"

"Grace... stop. I can't allow my mum suffer for my sins."

Grace let out a defeated sigh. "I also don't want your Mum to suffer. She is the only reason I have not arranged for your abduction and transportation out of this country."

"Yeah. And you also know she is the reason I can't afford a divorce now. I can still manage. At least Richard doesn't bring his girls home, and I'm not turning into a nun." Joan declared

"Yes, you are." Grace countered, frowning as she looked around. "I'm sure you don't even remember what a dick looks like anymore."

"Grace!!!"

"What? Prove me wrong by describing it." Grace fixed her serious gaze on Joan, but the latter just slapped her forehead while shaking her head.

"Can you stop this dirty talk?" Joan asked.

At that question from Joan, Grace let out an exaggerated gasp. "You now call describing a dick dirty talk? Hah! Richard has done the worst." She threw her hands in the air as if all hope was lost.

"Stop being overly dramatic." Joan scolded, feigning annoyance.

"Girl, there's a hot guy checking you out from way over there," Grace announced, fixing her eyes in one direction, switching so quickly from the previous topic as if she hadn't taken it so seriously just seconds ago.

"Oh god! Can you stop?" Joan asked with a tired tone, but Grace was not ready to stop.

"I'm serious. He isn't even trying to look away. Maybe he is the lucky one. I should go strike a deal with him and discuss payment terms."

"Grace!!!" Joan whisper-yelled, feeling embarrassed already.

"What?" Grace chuckled. "Your face is so red. Alright. I'll let you off tonight because it's your birthday Eve, and also tomorrow because it's your birthday and nothing must ruin it. From the day after, we're finding a solution to your problems. So eat up. This food is getting cold."

Having let out the burden in her heart, Joan regained some of her appetite and downed the remaining food on her plate. Her only wish was to be happy for the rest of the night, and the whole of the next day, being her birthday.

But if wishes were horses...