“It’s nice, I gotta tell you, just to sit here with you and do nothing but simply listen and talk.  No one truly listens anymore. They are always so distracted by what they’re gonna say next they have no idea what the other person is actually saying, so consumed they are with their own selfish needs.” 

“I agree. Everything else is so superfluous, and if we’re being brutally frank about it, empty.” 

“I don’t feel empty right now.” 

“Good, neither do I.” 

“Are you sure you don’t mind if I keep playing with your hair?” 

“Are you kidding? I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this relaxed.” 

“Your hair is the lightest, silkiest hair I have ever touched. You have the Chilean sea bass of hair.” 

“Ha, don’t make me choke!” 

“How many peanut butter cups is that now? Five?” 

“Three.” 

“What about the five wrappers on your tv table?” 

“Two are from last night.” 

“You wouldn’t be lying to me now, would you?” 

“Oh, I don’t lie.” 

“Not even a little bit?” 

“Not even a little bit. I’m brutally frank like ninety-four percent of the time.” 

“Well, honesty does have its disadvantages.” 

“Yeah? How so?” 

“Sometimes it’s appropriate to lie.” 

“It’s never appropriate to lie. When would it ever be appropriate to lie?” 

“For example, you might consider it appropriate to lie right now about the number of peanut butter cups you’ve eaten tonight, so as not to receive the punishment for eating five of them in one night.” 

“But if I were to enjoy the punishment for eating five peanut butter cups, wouldn’t it defeat the purpose to lie about them?” 

“So, you would enjoy the punishment?” 

“Of course I would.” 

“That’s not what you said in your text message.” 

“I was being coy, flirtatious.” 

“See.” 

“See what?” 

“It was appropriate to lie then, because you were being coy, flirtatious.” 

“I think giving my hair a little tug is a rather weak punishment, anyway.” 

“What would make a strong punishment?” 

“Hmm.” 

“Don’t be coy. Use your words.” 

“I’m not, I’m just thinking.” 

“And your hand?” 

“My hand is searching.” 

“Discovering anything?” 

“Maybe something big…and hard.” 

“Yeah? What now, do you think?” 

“Oh, now I know!” 

“What?” 

“The fitting punishment!” 

“I think removing your fingers just as you start caressing the tip of my cock is definitely a pretty unfair punishment.” 

“Then you might not like this.” 

“No? It’s not good?” 

“Not even a little good. Death.” 

“What?” 

“In some parts of the world adultery is punishable by death. Women are stoned and men are shot execution-style.” 

“If you’re trying to make a joke, it’s not very funny.” 

“Oh, no. See, I’m brutally frank ninety-four percent of the time.  I told you that.” 

“Removing your fingers just as you start fondling me is unfair because I didn’t commit any crime.” 

“The crime is universally frowned upon and in some countries punishable by death. Like I said.” 

“To be aroused by a beautiful woman who starts fondling the tip of my cock is not a crime. Like I said. It’s a very natural physiological response to such a situation.” 

“I don’t think you’re listening to me anymore.” 

“Actually, I don’t think you’re listening to me.” 

“You really aren’t listening to me, though.” 

“And you’re listening to me? How do you go from caressing the tip of my cock to talking about being executed for adultery, Julie?” 

“I’m expressing to you my particular anxieties, Stephen.” 

“What are you so anxious about?” 

“You’re still not listening to me.” 

“I’m listening perfectly clear. Maybe you’re not articulating very clearly what’s on your mind.” 

“Well, you may be on to something there.” 

“So much for being brutally frank.” 

“Yes, there is that other six percent.” 

“What?” 

“I told you, I’m brutally frank ninety-four percent of the time.” 

“I thought that was some arbitrary number, like you were joking around.” 

“No, ninety-four percent is as accurate as it gets.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that I spend the other six percent of my time lying.” 

“But you said you don’t lie, not even a little bit.  I heard that perfectly clear.” 

“It was a lie. You yourself said that honesty has its disadvantages and sometimes it’s appropriate to lie.” 

“I was playing around. We were talking about peanut butter cups. You yourself said it’s never appropriate to lie.” 

“It was a lie.” 

“Are you lying right now?” 

“Depends on what we’re talking about.” 

“Jesus Christ, you’re making my head spin.” 

“Would you like the basics then?” 

“Does that mean you’re not going to lie? For real this time, and then not afterwards say it was a lie?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then by all means.” 

“I’m actually married, and I have lured you here to my apartment under the pretense of sex so my husband may tie you to a chair and cut out your tongue. What he does after that often varies, but he does film every second of his adventures.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Don’t believe me?” 

“You’re messing with me, obviously.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Which is a lie.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Which is another lie.” 

“It’s not.” 

“And on and on we go, I get it now.” 

“What do you get?” 

“That the other six percent of you likes to have fun.” 

“Well, yes, that is true.  I often partake in my husband’s adventures.” 

“You know, there is such a thing as going too far with a lie.” 

“So, if I said my husband is about to walk around that corner with a giant machete, you wouldn’t believe me?” 

“No.” 

“See.” 

“See what?” 

“All that talk, and still you haven’t truly listened to a single thing.” 

“I’m listening perfectly clear, and what I hear is someone who can’t even speak the truth.” 

“Maybe that’s your punishment, not knowing what’s true and what isn’t.” 

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Let’s just wait and see then if my husband comes around that corner with his trusty machete. Maybe then you’ll learn your lesson.”