Separate Bedrooms

Douglas finished rocking his son, Douglas Junior, to sleep in the guest bedroom. He had a twin bed right next to the cot. In the master bedroom, he could hear Ahmad and Jenny finishing up. Thirty minutes later, Jenny came into the guest bedroom, wearing a hijab. She was an odd confluence of rebellion and submission. Submission to Ahmad, his faith, to atoning for the sins of her blood. Rebellion against her race, her family, and even the man she nominally resided with, Douglas. Her appearance -- pierced, tattooed, a harlot -- would be unacceptable to the faith she observed.

She motioned for Douglas to join her in the living room.

"Ahmad has problems with you," Jenny said simply. "He doesn't think separate bedrooms is enough. That you'll be tempted. Or I'll be tempted."

"That's not true," Douglas scoffed. "I haven't even tried to fuck you at all. He fucks you pretty much daily, one way or another."

"True enough," Jenny agreed. "But you're going to need to find a way to assuage him if you want to keep staying here."