Taking It Lying Down

Poor Eleanor sat propped up in bed like a marionette nobody wanted anymore. Broken neck, everything south of her chin switched off. Maggie hovered close—stepdaughter, nurse, golden retriever in human skin—ready to fluff pillows or fetch the moon if asked. What Eleanor wanted was dick. Old flame Travis strolled in expecting tea, maybe a quick hand-job. Instead he heard the new rules: Maggie, naked, right here on the mattress, and Eleanor calling every shot from the neck up. He blinked once, twice, then shrugged and started unzipping. Maggie climbed on. Eleanor barked angles, speeds, when to slow, when to slap. Travis pumped. Maggie moaned. Eleanor chuckled the whole way through her vicarious, second-hand orgasm like a sports commentator high on pain meds.