Two Different Roads

Please Forgive Me

It was as if that brief, wonderful moment of passion they'd shared had never taken place. Ellen had not allowed Mike to touch her since. Their only real interactions now were with the children. She no longer even ate meals with him and had banished him from their bedroom as well as her body. She barely SPOKE to him in fact.

He grabbed breakfast at a diner near the recording studio, spent his days working on the Monkees' latest album, ate a hamburger or some other kind of junk food for lunch, usually in the control room, then went home to a quick dinner of leftovers Consuela heated up for him, kissed his children goodnight then worked on some songs before retiring to their guest room for a night of fitful, unsatisfying sleep.
Surprisingly, he never once considered straying, even though a lot of men would have now felt they actually had a reason to. His thoughts, affections were centered entirely on his wife. He missed her desperately, the stimulating conversations they'd often had about life, love, sex, spirituality, philosophy, her smile, her voice, her laugh, the lovely scent of her perfume and her skin, her kisses, the feel, warmth of her body as she slept curled in his embrace, and of course, making love to her. Sometimes he wanted her so much he could barely stand it. Morning jerk-off sessions in the shower had replaced the leisurely, romantic morning sex he'd enjoyed so much and so often with Ellen. There seemed to be no indication that would change anytime soon either.

Mike tried to just accept it as due penance for his transgressions. It was a hell he deserved after all, and it could have been a lot worse. She could have left him or kicked him out. Of course there was every possibility she still MIGHT. He prepared himself for that eventuality when he made a rare attempt to approach her and impart some work related news she needed to hear.
"Rafe ( what he'd taken to calling Bob in recent months) and Bert want us all to get together over the weekend and work on the script for the Monkees' movie they're going to make now that they've definitely decided not to go on with the tv show. I guess that cool actor dude, Jack Nicholson, is getting involved too."
"So you're saying you're going to be away for a couple of days."
"Unless you don't want me to," he offered.
"Don't be ridiculous. Do what you need to do," she said without emotion.
"I'll give you the number where we'll be," he called to her already retreating back.
Her next words were even more devastating. "I'm sure we'll be fine here without you."
He wanted to just curl up in a hole somewhere. When it was time to leave she didnt even allow him to kiss her goodbye. It was the first time he'd ever NOT kissed her before going away. Until recently he'd kissed her if it was just heading to work for the day at the studio too. More than once those simple parting kisses had evolved into a few minutes of heavy necking (what she always called snogging) and groping.

He was in a rather foul humor when he arrived in the little resort town of Ojai for the writing session, at least until the joints and psychedelics were introduced. After that the whole thing turned into a drug fueled marathon of hilarity. Mike had no idea if any of the rambling, practically incoherent riffs they all contributed into a tape recorder would coalesce into any kind of actual, usable script, but it was certainly fun-going home after, not so much.
Ellen was still firmly and irrevocably playing the ice maiden role she told him she'd first honed to an art at school when he returned. By the time they began filming for the movie during the first week of February, he was unbearably lonely, irritable with everyone, and perpetually horny. The jerk-off sessions had increased to sometimes two or even three a day, and it took all the substantial self-control he'd cultivated over the years to not just creep back into the bed he and Ellen had once shared, wake her up and ravage her with or without her permission.
He'd never been so aroused, so completely frantic for a woman, and that included the beauties surrounding him today. They were shooting a video to accompany a song Peter had written that Micky was singing in the movie called "Can You Dig It?" The music already had a bit of a sexy vibe to it, so it had somehow seemed fitting to place it in a harem. The guys would all be wearing Middle Eastern robes, lounging on pillows while a bevy of gorgeous girls in skimpy belly dancer costumes gyrated around them suggestively.
Mike was nearly overcome with lust at the sight of all that supple skin just barely hidden beneath colorful bejeweled bras and diaphanous skirts, but each of their faces seemed to have been replaced with his wife's. All he could think about was doing to HER what just about any of these random strangers would probably let him do for just a wink and a smile. He'd taken Ellen for granted in more ways than one.