I had never worn a costume into the bedroom before, nor did I ever intend to. But when the ten year hurdle comes around, compromises must be made. You have to keep the spice in the marriage or he will stray like a mutt, humping everything in sight.
So I agreed to his terms. One night in a hotel room, role playing this fantasy. I, the seductive schoolgirl, playful yet naïve. He, the infatuated teacher, knowing the risk of getting caught but unable to resist. A passionate and forbidden affair ensues, hopefully not resulting in pregnancy.
The moment I stepped into the hotel room, I couldn’t help but scoff at the whole situation. The silly things one has to do to keep a marriage afloat. Laying the outfit, if you could call it that, on the bed only amplified the absurdity of it all. If you want to go for the fantasy at least make it somewhat realistic, I say.
After staring at it for ten minutes I finally allowed myself to slip into this “tantalising” attire, starting with the knee high socks and high heels that had no place in any high school. As I proceeded, alone with my thoughts, the questions arose.
Was Dean serious? Was this really what he desired? Did this mean he was a hebephile? What if this was all he wanted from now on? What if, instead of making him stay this just made him want more naughty schoolgirls?
Shaking my over analysing, I slipped on the red checked skirt. It was no bigger than a tea towel. Maybe after the sex Dean would like to go home and hand wash the pile by the sink – now there’s a fantasy! The top was no better, a white number with three buttons and designed to be knotted at the ribs. Clearly this girl didn’t pass history by studying.
Then came my fiery red hair. To wear it down, as it was going to be messed up anyway? What about my customary pony tail, keeping it off my face? Do I dare copy the picture on the website and attempt pigtails? No – I had never worn pigtails and I wasn’t going to start with this charade.
I decided to lean flirtatiously against the wall for when Dean entered, pursing my lips as if begging for a kiss. However, the bastard was late again. After twenty minutes of waiting like that, I took to sitting on the bed instead.
Eventually the door handle turned. I adopted a dreamy pose at the foot of the bed, smiling as my husband entered the room. Then cringing as I saw Dean wasn’t alone.
A tall, leggy blonde followed him and shut the door, immediately discarding her coat. If you can believe it, this particular “schoolgirl” had an even more revealing outfit than mine. A black bra with a pink tie for the top half. A pink skirt that was so short, you could tell someone had mowed the lawn recently.
And the pigtails, oh lord the pigtails.
Dean nodded his head approvingly. His eyebrows raising, along with something else I’m sure. He was preparing a late night study session to teach us a thing or two. In that one moment I certainly learned a lesson about my marriage.
“I want a divorce.”