Dog Training The American Male Part 22

"And finally we end with our reward-a dip in the wading pool."

Wagging his tail, Sam climbed inside the foot-deep, plastic kiddie pool and rolled in the water, cooling himself off.

Jacob clapped. "That's awesome. We should enter you guys in America's Got Talent."

Nancy wiped sweat from her face. "Pretty wild, huh? Spencer says it builds the dog's confidence and self-esteem, plus Sam will be a lot healthier if he loses ten pounds. And he loves it, don't you boy?"

The dog wagged its tail from inside the pool, waiting for Nancy's next command.

"How much did all this cost?"

"Nothing. Spencer is lending it to us while Sam gets over his separation anxiety. Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you inside."

She led Jacob back inside the house to the spare bedroom.

Nancy's home office was gone, replaced with a treadmill, bench press, and a.s.sorted dumbbells.

"You set up a gym?"

"I'd rather you joined a gym, but I know you don't like crowds. Jeanne's friend had the equipment in her garage and wasn't using it, so it didn't cost us a thing. And I'll use it, too."

"Um, thanks."

"What's wrong?"

"Is this your way of saying I need to lose weight?"

"It's my way of saying you don't seem happy. By working out regularly you'll feel better about yourself, less anxious. Exercise stimulates your brain to release endorphins, engaging your pleasure centers."

"I'd rather just have s.e.x."

"We'll have s.e.x after you walk a mile and do a few lifting exercises."

"A mile?"

"Okay, half a mile. But do it at a brisk pace."

"You know, Nancy, this sounds really great-but I don't have any running shoes."

"Check the closet. Size 10 Nikes."

"Thought of everything, did ya?"

Nancy kissed him. "I love you, Jacob, and I want you to be happy. I gave Sam a chance. Try this. For me."

He opened the closet door. Slipped off his sandals and put on the white athletic socks and running shoes.

Unsure, he stepped onto the treadmill.

Nancy started the machine, showing him how to set his speed and incline. "How does it feel?"

"Feels pretty good." Like a hamster on a wheel . . .

"You look great. Remember, half a mile without stopping. I need to freshen up, Helen asked me out to dinner. Back in a second!"

Nancy hurried into the master bedroom, her adrenaline pumping. This is great . . . we can work out together, lose weight, stay in shape. He'll be less anxious, easier to deal with-plus he's gained a good ten pounds since we've been living together, so a little exercise can go a long way. Maybe he'll get his confidence back . . . get a job again with a major investment firm. This is a win-win.

Nancy changed into a skirt, heels, and a blouse. She brushed her teeth, touched up her make-up, spritzed a shot of perfume across her shoulders, and then emerged from the master bedroom to check on Jacob, three minutes and fifty seconds having elapsed.

He was gone.

"Jacob?" She hurried into the kitchen, suddenly fearful. He's been depressed-is he suicidal? She searched the house . . .then found him lying in the kiddie pool- -drinking a beer.

DOG TRAINING THE AMERICAN MALE.

LESSON EIGHT: TOYS & ACCESSORIES.

Helen Cope stared at her reflection in the lighted pa.s.senger visor mirror. "Look at my eyes, Nancy, it's like they're permanently bloodshot."

"I didn't want to say anything, but you look exhausted."

"Who wouldn't be with my schedule? Up at six every day to get the boys off to school, followed by four hours at the real estate office. Then it's grocery shopping and running errands before picking the boys up at two. Clean the house; yell at them to do their homework while I make dinner before driving them to another baseball game or hockey practice or karate lesson. And weekends are just as bad. If it wasn't for caffeine and Vivance . . ."

"What about your social life?"

"Social life? You're kidding, right? Vinnie and I used to have a mandatory date night every Sat.u.r.day, now we come home from the boys' games and fall asleep on the couch. Don't get me wrong, I love watching my sons' compete, but tonight's the first time in four months I ate dinner with someone who wasn't wearing a uniform."

"What about . . . you know-"

"s.e.x? Who has the time? I'm usually in bed by nine-thirty, while Vin stays up all night watching Netflix. Wanna know my biggest fear? In ten years Austin will be off to college, and then it'll be just me and Vin-except I'll be going through menopause while younger women continue to spread their legs in front of my husband, who by that time should be going through his own mid-life crisis."

Helen's lower lip quivered.

"Hey, come on now. A double-X never crawls back into her womb; a double-X attacks the problem. You're a beautiful woman, Helen Cope. What's missing in your life is your Y."

"I'm sorry; I'm not getting the whole X -Y- Z deal."

"The Y is You and your own purpose for being. The Y is the man in your life who has forsaken his marital commitment. Instead of treating you like a princess, Vin's turned you into the castle wench, the chauffeur and chef . . . the team manager. Tonight, we're going to change all that."

"We are? How?"

"Behavior modification."

"This is more of your dog training stuff, isn't it? That c.r.a.p may work with your boyfriend, but Vincent and I have been married fifteen years. Even a Twinkie has an expiration date."

"Vin's still a man, Helen, and like most men he's a creature of habit."

"You got the creature right."

"I'm serious. We need to shake things up; we need to get Vin to look at you as his own personal s.e.x G.o.ddess-someone who's suddenly come into possession of a forbidden carnal knowledge that will ignite his loins. By the time we're through, he'll be chasing you around the house like a panting dog begging for its master's attention."

"You've got me panting. So how do we do all this?"

"p.r.o.ng collars." * * * * *

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Nancy turned off the main road into a parking lot, a flas.h.i.+ng pink neon sign reading: s.e.x EMPORIUM.

Helen followed her inside, slipping on sungla.s.ses to prevent someone from recognizing her. "I can't believe you actually brought us here."

They walked through aisles of triple-X DVDs, past display racks filled with inflatable dolls, vibrators, d.i.l.d.os, and contraptions that dated back to the Renaissance.

Helen stared at a gla.s.s gizmo which was equipped with a two p.r.o.nged p.e.n.i.s-shaped insertion. "Oh my G.o.d, do women actually use these devices on themselves?"

"Abso-f.u.c.king-lutely." A black saleswoman approached, the masked female dressed in a leather Bat Girl outfit and spiked heels. "Welcome to the world-famous s.e.x Emporium, home of the whopper with sleaze. Can I interest you ladies in Dr. Z's latest dual Nipple Pleaser? The convenient Y-converter allows for simultaneous vacuum control and . . . Mrs. C.?"

"Wanda? You work here?"

"I'm one of the minority owners. And no, that ain't a black thing . . . well, actually I guess it is, since it got me a small business loan."

"Does Vin know about this?"

"h.e.l.l, yes. Who do you think he comes to for the latest DVDs?"

"So, it's not enough that my husband dabbles in strange women's v.a.g.i.n.as all day, now he has to watch p.o.r.n too?"

"Listen, ya'll don't have to worry about Dr. C., he's what we call a sniffer."

"I'm afraid to ask . . . but what's a sniffer?"

"Ever see a dog sniff another dog's a.s.s? Looking at strange buck-naked old women with leaky v.a.g.i.n.as all day can affect a man's libido. Watching p.o.r.n helps Dr. C. achieve hootie balance after sniffing dogs' a.s.ses all day. It's the quiet ones, like his brother Jacob that you got to watch out for." She turned to Nancy. "Hi, I'm Wanda."

"I'm Nancy. The quiet one's girlfriend."

"For real? Well . . . oh s.h.i.+t." Wanda looked over Nancy's shoulder. "Can I help you, Mrs. K?"

Helen and Nancy turned to find Ruby Kleinhenz standing outside a dressing room. The Cougar was wearing a black see-thru baby-doll negligee, her bra-covered b.r.e.a.s.t.s protruding through the outfit's open cups.

"Wanda, do you have this in red? I need it for . . . Helen?"

"Ruby?" Helen feigned being pleasantly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here every week. The question is-what are you doing here?"

"You know . . . this and that. Have you seen Dr. C's latest dual Nipple Pleaser? The convenient Y-converter allows for simultaneous vacuum control."

"You mean Dr. Z. Your husband's Dr. C., and I own two of them."

Wanda stepped between them. "We don't have the teddie in red, but we just got in something hot-a Chemise with nipple clamps and c.l.i.t and a.n.a.l loops, and I'm pretty sure it comes in red. Why don't ya'll wait in the dressing room and I'll bring you one to try on."

"Perfect. Size 36-D." She winked at Nancy, then sashayed back to the dressing room.

Nancy's face flushed bright red. "Wanda, we're gonna need a shopping cart."

AT PRECISELY 9:36 p.m., Vincent Cope arrived home, having completed his one late night office s.h.i.+ft for the week. Parking his Lexus in the garage, he entered the kitchen carrying his briefcase and an aching lower back.

"h.e.l.lo?" He hung his keys on their peg by the coffee maker. Checked the stack of mail on the counter.

"Helen? Boys?"

No reply.

Any empty house? Is it possible?

Heart pounding, he opened his briefcase and removed the new DVD from its brown paper wrapper. "Mary Todd-Lincoln: Lesbian Hunter. Probably more historically accurate than they know."

He dashed upstairs to the master bedroom. Opened the door-and screamed!

Helen, dressed in a leather S & M outfit, was lying above the four-post bed in a love swing.

"Helen? Have you lost your mind?"

"This is what you want, isn't it Vincent? To live out your fantasies?"

It's a trap, it's a trap don't say a word. Sweet Jesus, look at her t.i.ts! Propped up like ripe melons . . .

"Well? Don't just stand there gawking at me with your mouth hanging open, say something."

"I, uh . . . nice outfit. Is that new?"

"It came with the love swing. Come closer, I won't bite."

His heart beating wildly, his trousers tightening, Vincent Cope inched closer. "Love swing, huh? Good color. Goes with the lamp shades." Jesus F-ing Christ, she shaved!

"Silly, it's not a throw pillow, it's an accessory that allows you to move me while you thrust in and out . . . in and out of my hot . . . wet . . . p.u.s.s.y."

Vinnie broke into a cold sweat, his voice high-pitched and stuttering. "Love swing . . . what a great idea."

"I hope you like it. Wanda tells me it's endorsed by Dr. Ruth."

"Wa . . . Wanda?"

"You remember Wanda. Your own personal p.o.r.n dealer!"

He pivoted, attempting to hide the DVD behind his back. "I . . . I . . . I don't know what you mean."

"Lying to momma, huh? Just for that, I'm going to beat your a.s.s raw." Wielding a leather riding crop from behind her hip, Helen snapped it across Vinnie's right hip.