Chapter 4

Mary woke up with a smile on her face. There was something to look forward to. Then, she wondered if in the light of the new day Mark might change his mind. Mark the CPA had been a wonderful husband, father and a great provider for their family. He was industrious, hard- working, responsible and dependable.

She tried to be the perfect homemaker for them. Now that the kids were away at college, she did volunteer work at the hospital three or four days a week. She had attended Catholic parochial schools. Her older brother, Ron, was a Jesuit Priest who taught at a small school on the east coast. They attended mass regularly and confession several times a year. Wow! This time, she thought, there would something more to confess than just her being insensitive and not as spiritual as she thought she should be.

Before she married Mark, she was told by nearly everyone that she should go to New York and become a fashion model. That wasn't for her. Fargo, a home and family was all that she had ever dreamed of. Her dreams were realized when she married Mark and children completed their family.

Sex was satisfying for her and she believed for Mark as well. She was confident that he had never strayed, she had never really been tempted. He always teased her and called her the Virgin Mary, which was an accurate description when she met him.

In Fargo, there wasn't much to tempt people of their class. She had heard all of the jokes about Fargo but never wanted to live anywhere else. Even the residents agreed that there were just two seasons in Fargo, winter and August. Every once in a while, a couple would divorce. Other than that the gossip was usually limited to talking about how much weight this person or that person had gained or lost or whether someone could really afford to take a European vacation or buy a German luxury car. Nothing too juicy.

Now, after just two telephone conversations with Mark, they both seemed intrigued by what her husband had discovered about himself in a video booth in Los Angeles. She could never have imagined that they would let their guards down and talk as freely as they had the last two nights. She hoped, oh how she hoped, that he wouldn't change his mind about her flying out to be with him.

Not only did Mark not change his mind, he was making plans before the sun came up in Los Angeles or the clock struck nine in Fargo. He called the concierge and made arrangements to rent a car for three days. Then he went on the Internet and booked a flight on Northwest Airlines for Mary that would depart Fargo at approximately 2:00 that very afternoon. She would change planes in Minneapolis and arrive in LA a little after 7:00 that evening, round trip, 617. Then he called and rescheduled his own return flight to coincide with hers. When all of the arrangements were completed, he dialed their home number.

"Mary," he said before she could even say hello. "Write this down." He gave her the details of her flight out then said, "I know this doesn't give you much time to pack, sorry about the rush."

"Oh darling," she said excitedly, "I have plenty of time. I can't wait to see you. Anything special you want me to bring?"

"Just your hot body baby. Remember, you said I was doing all of this just to get laid." Then he laughed.

"My body will be hot all right. Are we going to that video place tonight?"

"If you want to, we will."

"Oh, I want to all right. I want to see for myself what made you break loose. Are we going to do anything else?" She asked softly.

"What do you mean by anything?"

"I mean . . . I mean anything. Anything you want love." She emphasized the word anything.

"You're not serious?" He said. It seemed as if both of them were talking obliquely around a subject that neither dared to even broach. "Mary, last night I let my guard down I told you exactly what makes me hot."

"I know you did my love. I'll be coming out for you, ready to do anything, anything for you." She paused and the message sink in. "I better hurry and get ready. I have a few things that I must do besides just packing. I'll let you use your new imagination to guess what other things. Bye my love. See you soon." She pursed her lips, made a kissing sound into the receiver and hung up, afraid to say more than what she had already said.

Mark stood there for a moment holding the buzzing receiver trying to understand what his wife was suggesting. He didn't want to assume too much but he had always prided himself on being prepared.

The sessions that morning were boring. If he were asked what had been presented he couldn't have explained it. If he had been tested on his understanding of the material he would have gotten an "F." He was happy that the afternoon was free because there was something he wanted to do and he didn't know how long it might take or complicated it might be. When he went by the concierge desk he was handed a set of keys, told that the rental car had been delivered and where it was parked.

He didn't bother even going back to his room. After slipping off his blazer and tie he walked to the parking lot and found the Blue Ford Taurus exactly where he had been told it would be. He had memorized a certain address that he obtained from the Secretary of State of California over the Internet that morning after he hung up from talking with Mary. He had looked in the yellow pages and then called local information but wasn't successful in getting a phone number or a specific street address. Finally, because a corporation was involved, he went on the net and contacted Sacramento. Bingo! In just a few minutes he found exactly what he was looking for. A business that had been covered with layers of LLC's, partnerships and straight corporations. As he backed the car out of its space, he realized that Mary was probably already on the plane in route to Minneapolis where she would make her connection for LA.

It had been a hectic morning for her. Before packing, Mary took a leisurely, very hot soaking bath. While in the tub, she shaved her long smooth legs and then, for the first time, shaped her pubic hair by trimming the sides. It was difficult to shave the area between her legs but she was determined and with the aid of a hand mirror completed the task. She loved the new bare look and vowed that she would never let it go to stubble. If her husband could shave every day, then so could she. After her bath, she hurriedly threw on a pair of faded jeans, sneakers and a top. It was a wonder that she didn't get a ticket as she drove the Honda Accord twenty miles over the speed limit to the nearest shopping center. There, in the Walgreen's she purchased bright red nail polish and a matching tube of lipstick.

In TJ Max, she found a beige, very short dress that was more suitable for a high school senior than a 41-year-old mom who was acting like a school girl. The sexy dress fit perfectly and hugged her body in all the right places. By the time she had returned home, called the hospital and told the volunteer coordinator that she couldn't be there Friday or Saturday, packed her single bag, painted her nails, set her hair and then driven to Fargo's Hector Field she had only an hour to spare before her departure. She sure hoped that she had enough time to complete the security clearance that had slowed the boarding process since 9/11.

Fortunately for Mark, there was a map of the area on the passenger seat of the Taurus. He had to refer to it twice before he found the building located in an industrial park twenty minutes from his hotel. There was a lump in his throat as he closed the door to the car and pushed the button on the ignition key that automatically locked all its doors.

There were several sets of letters-abbreviations of different companies- affixed to the glass door. The company abbreviations didn't indicate what type of business was conducted inside the typical industrial building. However, the letters were the same ones he saw earlier that morning on the Secretary of State's website confirming that, indeed, he was at the right place. He took a breath and pushed at the door. It was locked. Then he saw a door bell on the wall and pressed the button.

"Ya!" crackled through a small speaker somewhere above his head.

"I wanted to talk with someone about your videos."

"If you want to order videos, you have to go to our website. Do you have that URL?"

"I don't want to order videos. It's more about . . . I guess you would say, casting."

"Just a sec."

Mark was fidgety as he waited by the door. Then it opened and he entered. The reception area could have been a reception area for any of the small businesses that were his clients in Fargo. However, the black man that stood before didn't look like he would be employed by any small business for whom Mark had ever done taxes. He must have stood six, six and weighed two hundred and seventy-five pounds. He was wearing a muscle shirt, had a thick gold chain around his neck and a gold earring dangling from each ear lobe.

"What can I do for you?" The black man asked.

"I was interested in your series that's called A Load in Every Hole '. . . "

The black man interrupted him and held up his hand. "Oh, sorry man. We use the same three guys in every episode. We're not looking for any male talent for that series."

"Let me explain," Mark said. "I know you use the same three men. I sure couldn't replace any of them, if you know what I mean." He smiled and went on. "I've seen a dozen of the segments and thought you might be ready for some new female talent."

"We're very selective about the women in the series. They have to be fresh faces. I mean they've never done anything like this before. Also, they have to be married, very beautiful and love, I mean really love sex."

"Yes, I understand," Mark acknowledged. "I think that comes through in the series. You haven't told me anything that was a surprise. Anyway, my wife's flying here tonight and I thought you might find her interesting. I'm going to take her the video arcade where I saw the series when she lands."

"How long will you be here?" The black man asked all of a sudden more interested in what the white man was saying.

"We leave Monday."

"Hmmmmm. That's pretty short notice. I'm not even sure if the guys are available and even if they are if we can round up two cameramen." He went on to explain, "that series is a two camera project."

He seemed lost in thought as he said. "Even if I can make the arrangements, if you've seen the series you know that it's pretty extreme. While each edited episode only lasts for 10 or 15 minutes on screen, you need to know that it takes two or three hours to shoot. Three hours of hot, no holes barred sex. Is your wife up to that?" He challenged.

Mark had to be honest. "I'm not sure. She might be."

"Look friend, if I get the guys together and the cameramen and she doesn't show or doesn't perform I'm fucked. Is she very experienced?"

"No. She doesn't have any experience. But I thought you just said that you're looking for fresh women . . . beautiful white women . . . women who love sex. She's fresh, beautiful, white and loves sex."

"I'm not saying that I can get everybody together, but if I can when can you be available?"

"She lands at 7:00. Allow an hour or so for us at the video place," said Mark.

"Could you be back here at 9:00?"

"I think so. We can sure try."

"Also, I'll need her to bring her HIV test results."

Mark hadn't thought of that. "She's never been tested," he said.

"What! Sorry pal. We don't shoot without an HIV test."

"I can understand why that would be very important if she were promiscuous but she's not."

"What about you. You could bring something home to her and she wouldn't even know it. Can't be too careful nowadays."

"I agree with you but neither of us has had sex with anyone else since we were married."

"And, I've got a very nice bridge in Brooklyn that I'd like to sell you," said the black man as he broke into a laugh. He folded his huge arms across his broad chest, broke into a smile and stared at Mark.

"She doesn't have a test. She's never had a sexually transmitted disease and neither of us sleeps around. What more can I say?" Then before the black man could respond, Mark said, "I think I can have her here by 9:30 unless there is a flight delay."

The black man grinned, stuck out his huge hand, shook Mark's and said, "I'm AJ. Two things before we go any further. I have to see a picture of her, of course, and we have to make the financial arrangements."

"I'm Mark and my wife's name is Mary." He reached in his back pocket took out his wallet opened and handed it to AJ. "Here's a picture of her," he said.

"Wow! We sure don't have any problem with the face. She's really beautiful Mark. You're a lucky dude. What about her body?"

"She has a great body. I think you'll find hers to be as good as any in the series."

"Now I have a question for you my friend. What if she doesn't show, or like I said a few minutes ago, what if she won't perform? She gets here and freaks out. It's happened before. Then, I've got five or six guys who come here to work and get paid and I'm left holding the bag with no usable product." He really didn't expect Mark to answer. "Tell you what, you give me five hundred dollars. If she comes through then I'll give it back to you and match it. That's what we pay the women. If she doesn't come through by 10:00 or 10:30 then I'll give everybody a Grant and call it a day."

Mark didn't have five hundred dollars in cash but he did have five American Express Travelers Checks in one hundred dollar denominations. He wasn't thinking as he took them out of his wallet and handed them to a man he had nevereven met before as a token of good faith.

"We got us a deal man." Said AJ. "I'll set things up. Have you got a cell phone?"

Mark gave him the number and said, "do you have a number I can call if there are any problems on my end?"

"Not to worry friend. If everybody's in town, we can do this. If they're not then I'll call and return your travelers checks."

The two men shook hands and Mark returned to the rent car.

Mary had made the flight in Fargo and the connection in Minneapolis. She was lost in her thoughts as the plane headed southwest. She wondered what she really meant, deep down, when she told Mark she would do anything. Did she really mean it? It excited her to know that something had turned her husband into a sex maniac. Videos displayed on a screen in a small booth in California had brought something out of him that she had long ago given up trying to bring out. Images of three black men having their way with different married white women, that her husband thought of as her, was apparently jsut what he needed. Tonight he promised to share those images with her. Would there be more than that, she wondered?