Madhu and I met and married in college, finishing together to begin our careers, she is a teacher, me as an accountant. Our sex life was normal, normal and dull. It was just straight sex, missionary style. I tried to talk to her about expanding her horizons and tried to get her to do other things, or, maybe even tell me her fantasies, but, she seemed sexless most of the time.
Then, after we had been married about three years, we found out I was sterile and that is the reason we could not have a baby. Madhu was devastated. She so wanted baby. I felt horrible because I wanted them, too, but, more than that, because I had let her down. It was about then I started having fantasies of her having sex with another man, a man who would impregnate her, a man to give her what I could not, a baby.
I never had the courage to share my fantasies with her, although they became stronger and stronger. Every time we would see a couple with a small baby, I would see the pain in her face, see her wanting. Over time, I could see something else. I could see her disgust with me for being sterile, for being unable to give her that.
She would fight her feelings. I could see her pendulum swing from being over solicitous with me to revulsion at not being able to give her a baby. It was so hard on both of us.
One night, after we both had too much to drink, I told her my fantasy. I told her I dreamed of her being impregnated by another man, of bearing a happy healthy baby, of me watching them having sex or her telling me all about it. This was so much a part of the fantasy. I must know everything, as if I were impregnating her through him.
She slapped me hard, and then she slapped me again. “How dare you think me a slut!” she screamed, pounding on my chest with her fists. “I’m your wife, you sterile wimp!” She began to weep buckets, collapsing against me as she sobbed. Immediately, she begged my forgiveness at calling me a wimp, saying she knew it was not my fault, that I wanted a baby as much as she did.
I threw myself in my work. Our relationship declined even faster, to the point she would lie there limply when we had sex. I got to the point I would rather not bother her. Yet, even though she was listless in our bed, I felt a tension building in her.
Then, the firm had a cocktail party for an executive who was being transferred to another office. Three other men had been fired. Those changes opened up some job opportunities which had not yet been filled. Mr. Malik, the top man in the company, was going to be at the party to meet all of us. I’m sure part of the reason he was there was to evaluate some of us who might be up for a promotion.
Madhu claimed to be too tired to go, but I insisted. This was too important for her to miss. Our company liked to hire married people and wives were an important part of our culture. At the party, Madhu relaxed and began enjoying herself as she normally did. She was really a very pleasant person normally, before the baby crisis anyway.
We had been there about two hours when I realized Madhu was not by my side. I saw her talking to Mr. Malik in the corner. They seemed intent. I turned to talk to someone else. When I looked for her again, she was gone. So was Mr. Malik.
Immediately, I began to wonder. What was happening? Had they left together? Then, my immediate supervisor grabbed me to meet the new recruit. I was stranded, trying to make polite conversation while my brain whirled. I felt a hand on my arm. It was Madhu.
“Honey, let’s go home,” she said. Her eyes were wild, more alive then I could remember seeing them in years. She was very excited as she dug her nails into my arm. I said my farewells and followed her toward the door. Mr. Malik was watching us as we left. In the car, I tried to make conversation but she said she did not want to talk right now. She leaned back as if asleep but her foot was moving rhythmically with her shoe dangling off her toes. She bounced into the house.