Masters of Sex
All Together Now

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | 43 USERS: A
The High Striker


Still waiting, now that Bill's back in over his head, gets bored with her magazine. She falls upon a page of a sexy girl in a martini glass: "Nobody shakes up your night like Lord Harry gin" the ad says. And who needs a shakeup more than Libby Masters? Nobody on this show, at least. She checks in with herself, decides shenanigans are definitely on the agenda, and remembers we're still fixed for gin.

It was a lot of work just to make the call; Ethan didn't know what he was asking when he told her to start having sex with Bill again, much less all the time. But she's a brave girl, and he's on his way home now. What's the harm in getting a little loose? Maybe he'll like her that way. Look at that girl in the ad. With those legs and breasts, with that brunette hair, she could be a dead ringer for Virginia Johnson. The kind of girl who's not scared of anything. Who shakes up the night.


Bill: "Why are you doing surgery on yourself in the middle of the night all alone?"
Barton: "Because I was robbed and it's no big deal and go away."
Bill: "Lie down, you old homo. Let me do that."
Barton: "You see it was because my train was delayed so I went walking around and I guess I ended up in what I thought was a good neighborhood and I was making a list of all the places in New York City where you can have good clean fun and then these hoodlums, Bill, these honest-to-God central-casting hoodlums, they rush up..."
Bill: "-- Oh, you went looking for blowjobs! Sorry, took me a sec."
Barton: "Okay, fine."
Bill: "Your life is going to be destroyed by this stuff, mister. You cannot be carrying on like this. Your family, your wife and daughter, your job, your reputation, your license... All to meet some boy in an alley? Come on."
Barton: "Assuming it comes out, which why would it?"
Bill: "It always does, Chief. Listen to me. You nearly got murdered. Tonight. For sitting in a car. Just sitting. You need to be safer."

But if it's safer it won't be safer, because it'll be real. It's a matter of etiquette, not biology.


Austin: "This time, you get on top."
Margaret: "Already?"
Austin: "Being younger than you makes me younger than me. Get up there."

She obliges; she watches herself fuck him, in the vanity mirror. That lonely old room at the top of the stairs isn't so big, or so empty, with him in it. Neither is she. He's younger than her, so she's younger than her. When the lights swim across her face, and the walls, for a second she thinks it's them. What they're making, the four of them: The man underneath her and the girl in the mirror, how beautiful they are. Then she goes cold.

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Masters of Sex




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