Rick Santorum F*cks His Wife

Richard John “Rick” Santorum lied on his California king bed wearing baby blue Fruit-of-the-Loom boxer shorts. He felt the cream-colored satin sheets under him as his head was propped up by the fluffy pink Martha Stewart pillow purchased by Karen, his wife, from the Macy’s at the Fairfax Mall. The bedroom in their Great Falls, Virginia home was large, with windows facing a stand of trees bare of leaves. The trees were lit by two flood lights attached to the side of the house. A small brook meandered over rocks just beyond the trees. When the bedroom windows were open during a warm summer day, Rick liked to listen to the gentle sounds of water hitting rock. But tonight’s March night’s chill did not permit any open windows.

Rick was not thinking of his two acres of property or the flora outside his house. He was watching Karen in the bathroom. Karen had finished her shower and opened the bathroom door to air out the steam. Rick felt a pang of pride that his wife’s body had maintained what he considered a youthful feminine shape, and though Karen worked hard at various forms of exercise, Rick attributed it to the hand of God. After all, it must be God. No woman could keep their virginal figure after seven pregnancies unless God had made a contribution. Rick liked to think of Karen as a virgin, only touched by a divine hand, as if all his children were immaculately conceived.

Rick’s thoughts drifted to sex. Karen had finished drying her legs with a yellow towel, her back to the half-open bathroom door facing the mirror. Rick examined the small of Karen’s back. If Rick had a fetish, a thought he preferred to avoid, it was the back of a woman’s knee. And Karen’s legs and concave bend to the anterior of her legs gave him, at this moment, an erection. Rick placed a hand on his groin, pressing down. It felt good. He was tempted to start masturbating, but knew this was not an option; at least not when his wife was present.

Karen slipped into pink satin pajama shorts and a satin night blouse and emerged from the bathroom. Rick made no effort to conceal his erection. She caught this at the corner of her eye.

KAREN
A long day.

RICK
They are all long now.

Rick said this looking down at the back of his hand cupping the groin. He almost chuckled. Karen referenced the alarm clock on the night table.

KAREN
Oh god. It’s past midnight.

Karen already knew it was past midnight. Since the campaign had swung unexpectedly into high gear and the media was ever present in the Santorum family life, she and Rick had not hit the sack before midnight in over a month. Nevertheless, she did her best acting to communicate that she wanted to sleep.

RICK
You look wide awake. I know Derrick is.

When Rick was a child, his mother referred to the penis as “Nippy.” But when Rick used the term as a freshman at Penn State, the guys reamed him for being an “idiot.” Or at least that is how Rick heard it. Rick never used “nippy” again to refer to his penis. But he refused to say “penis.” And so he adopted “Derrick,” which he understood to be a rather refined way to reference the male organ. Or so he heard from a Priest at a church in College Station, Pennsylvania.

Karen sat on the bed, ignoring Rick’s remark, and slipped under the sheets, pulling the white down blanket up to her chest. Her head rested on the matching pink pillow.

KAREN
Isabella has an eight o’clock appointment.

Rick pulled his legs up, grabbed the blanket and then stretched his legs out covering himself. He turned toward Karen and wrapped his legs over Karen’s, reaching around her, raising himself up.

KAREN
Rick, can we not tonight.

RICK
It has been almost two months.

KAREN
Yeah, well, it has been a difficult two months.

Rick looked down at Karen, holding himself up with outstretched arms, a hand on either side of Karen’s head. Rick’s legs straddled Karen’s, and Derrick was making contact through Rick’s boxer shorts.

RICK
“Difficult.” This is one of the most exciting times of our lives.

KAREN
Yes. I know. But…

RICK
Let’s celebrate this moment.

KAREN
It’s not a good time to celebrate.

RICK
Your period?

KAREN
No. It’s…the right time…but…

RICK
So it’s a good time.

KAREN
I can’t, Richard.

Rick ignored Karen’s remark and reached down with his hand. He did not remove Karen’s satin pant pajamas, but instead pushed the fabric aside. Karen stiffened and closed her eyes. She thought about Gabriel, her son that was born prematurely in 1996. Gabriel survived for two hours before dying. She recalled hugging Gabriel’s lifeless body while lying in the hospital bed. Rick was furious at the hospital, pacing, running in and out of Karen’s room, raising his voice, assigning blame, telling the doctors that someone was going to be sued. Karen tried to close her ears to Rick’s loud rage and merely hold Gabriel, who was still warm and wet. Hours past, Rick had kicked everyone out of Karen’s hospital room, closed the door, undressed, and got into bed with Karen and Gabriel. Karen asked what he was doing. Rick said they were going to sleep together with Gabriel and in the morning he wanted to take Gabriel home to introduce him to their other children. Karen initially complained about subjecting her family to the pain she was feeling, but she knew better to resist Rick when he was so agitated. When Rick was of a certain mind, there was no talking him out of it. Karen was awake all night, quietly struggling not to cry. And it struck her as strange that Rick slept like a baby, like Gabriel. She dreaded the next day, which proved to be a bizarre homecoming, carting Gabriel’s lifeless body to their home, and watching Rick introduce Gabriel to the shocked and unsettled eyes of her other children.

Rick pushed himself off Karen and fell to her side on the bed. Karen had not even noticed that he climaxed.

RICK
I love you.

KAREN
Yes. I love you.

Rick turned to his side and quickly fell asleep. Karen waited a few minutes. Then she got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Karen closed the bathroom door. She turned the faucet and let the water run. She sat on the toilet, placed her face in her hands and cried. After several minutes, she reached down and pulled out a diaphragm. She wiped herself, rinsed the diaphragm and placed it in a plastic container that she kept hidden in a large personal cosmetic zippered bag. She pushed the container to the bottom of the bag, and placed the bag in the back of the bathroom closet that served as storage for toilet paper and other bathroom supplies. Karen looked into the mirror. She looked down at the running water. She looked back at herself. She turned the water off, took a deep breath, and opened the bathroom door. Rick was asleep. Karen went to the bed. She wondered how long she would lie awake before falling asleep.