As she read the slender red volume, a deeply demanding feeling began to stir in the pit of her stomach. She'd never had such a feeling before, but then, she'd never read anything quite like this book before. She understood why her parents kept it hidden under the mattress in their room.
It described the way men and women made love, in open, graphic terms, and the fact that it was written by a doctor didn't make it any the less thrilling to the young girl who held it. She read of things she didn't understand completely, but some she did, and as she did she leaned back against the pillows at the head of her bed. She had one foot on the floor, the other was swung up on the bed.
Holding the book with one hand, she explored the source of the new feelings coursing through her. At first she was frightened and a little revolted, but then she made a discovery that changed her attitude toward the whole thing. Deeper sensations than she'd ever felt went through her, and after a few moments the book was dropped, forgotten. She didn't know such a thing existed, and she knew she'd never be able to discuss it with her mother.
At that moment, her parents returned home. She quickly hid the book, planning to return it to their room at the first opportunity. She was relatively calm when she walked into the living room to greet them.
"Are you sick, dear?" her mother asked.' "Your face looks like its flushed."
"I'm all right," she said. "I just felt a little warm there for a while."
"Don' get yourself overheated," her mother cautioned.
The girl smiled inwardly. The heat she'd felt hadn't been completely abated, and as soon as she could be certain of not being interrupted, she planned to resume her activities.
The opportunity didn't arrive until that night after she was in bed, and she lay awake listening to her parents going to bed. She hoped they wouldn't miss the book, for she hadn't had a chance to put it back yet. But they didn't, want to read, they wanted to practice what the book contained. And they did, with their daughter listening to the grunting on the opposite side of the thin wall.
As she listened, she gave herself up to a fantasy that made the whole thing even more thrilling. For it wasn't her mother on the other side of the wall.
Then she realized with horror the thought she had succumbed to. She shuddered, felt sick, and then began to cry. She smothered her cry in her pillow. She wouldn't be heard, and when she finally went to sleep, she was fevered.
Her illness lasted ten days, and when she recovered, she had no memory whatever of the fantasy she'd experienced the night of her living dream. With the return of her health, she resumed her activities, but never again did the fantasy figure have an identity.
Buried deep within her, though, the idea was there, working on her, shaping her inevitably for the future. And never would she be happy until she'd brought it to the surface again, faced it and accepted it.
CHAPTER ONE
I shivered with my awareness of Bill's weight on the edge of the bed. I remembered his expression while we were watching television desire. I could always tell when he wanted me. And tonight was one of those nights-tonight he wanted me....
That's why I shivered.
Because I didn't want him.
It's hell when you can't stand to have your husband touch you ... cringed as he got into bed, moving as far from him as possible-scrunching almost to the edge of my side of the bed. Maybe if I pretended to be asleep he would leave me alone. Maybe he would shrug and forget all about it....
While I lay there scarcely breathing, I wondered why I felt the way I did-not wanting my husband to touch me-to make love to me....
I guess it had to do with boredom-routine. Jill and I had been married for almost eight years now-ever since we had both turned eighteen. And the romance and the excitement that neither of us could contain now seemed to be gone. I don't know why-I don't think anybody can answer that. I guess it's because you're just too tired after working in an aircraft factory all day to think about being romantic. You just want to come home and take your shoes off and drink a can of beer while you watch television. And the same thing holds true after a day of taking care of a box-like house that you hated and two little kids that demanded all of your time.
I know-we got married when we were too young. Maybe that's right-I don't know. I only know that that's what we both wanted. Or at least that's what we thought we wanted. And so we ran off to Las Vegas one weekend after we had both graduated from High School and tied the knot. We didn't have to-it was what we both wanted. I mean we didn't have to because of something like my being pregnant or anything like that. Even though we had been sleeping together for over a year we had been careful. But maybe that's why we did get married-because of the excitement of making love. It seemed more exciting than it really was because of the fact that we weren't married-like-like we were getting away with something. Know what I mean?
That's probably why we did get married. Because we wanted each other so badly. It seemed like that's all we did-wherever we could find a place and whenever we could manage it. So there was nothing left but to get married. We didn't think of any of the problems involved-as a matter-of-fact, we laughed at our parents who tried to tell us about them. We'll manage, we told them-don't worry about us. We'll get by....
But you're giving up so much, my mother told me. You haven't lived yet. Haven't done anything. You're going to be old before you had a chance to be young. And someday you're going to resent it-you're going to look at other girls your age who are out enjoying themselves-having fun-no responsibilities-and you're going to resent it. Take it out on your marriage. Maybe-maybe even take it out on Bill....
But I had laughed at her. Said I was old enough to know what I was doing. Besides, didn't you marry Dad when you were my age...?
But now as I lay stiff and still on my side of the bed pretending to be asleep, I knew that she had been right. Especially after the kids came. It's not that I don't love them-but-but they take up so much of my time. And then because of them we had to buy this little bandbox of a house that I can't stand. It's so small, but we couldn't afford anything else we had to go to this tract where every house looks just like every other house. And because of it, Bill has to stay at that job I know he hates-we need the money. And where else can he make as much as he does at that aircraft factory? It's too bad he had to give up going to college, but that's the way it is....
Maybe it was because of the tremendous pressure that never seemed to let up. Money. Time. Bills. And the loss of our dreams. Maybe it was all of that that caused the desire to go out of our lives. I don't know. I only know that it hasn't been the same between us for over a year now. Oh, we still make love often enough-but it's not the same. It's like-like we were doing it out of habit. Sometimes I feel like I'm giving into Bill because it's expected of me. Comes Saturday night and we make love. Out of habit and routine. Not because of desire-feelings. And there's certainly no romance in It's part of my chores-like weekly marketing-or doing the kids' clothes. So how do you think that makes me feel...?
And I feel even worse during the week. Like tonight. Then I felt like Bill's just using me. Getting rid of his tensions or whatever might be bothering him. I know it's not because he loves me and really wants me. And I know I don't want him. I certainly don't give him any indication of that. Take tonight, for instance. We were just sitting there in the living room watching television ... Bill sprawled out on the sofa and me sitting in the deep easy chair on the other side of the room....
I had just come in from the bathroom after taking a shower when I joined him. All I had on was my blue terry-cloth bathrobe-the one that stops just short of my knees. I suppose I wasn't too careful about tying it-but since when do you have to worry about something like that in front of your husband! I didn't think anymore of it until I became aware of Bill stealing glances at me. I couldn't figure it out until I realized what he was doing. He was staring at my breasts-peeking looks at them as if he had never seen a girl's breasts before! I know that to him they were his favorite part of my body-he had often said that-but this was something else. All he was really doing was arousing himself to a state of desire. Lust. Purely physical. I knew that and because I knew it, I was repulsed by it. I wanted him to want me for me not for the size and shape of my breasts-or to get rid of his tensions-or any reason like that. I wanted him to want me the way he used to want me-because we loved each other and through sex we could reach the highest expression of that love....
But it hasn't been that way for a long time.
Too long.
And because I knew that, I no longer wanted him. No longer wanted him to touch me....
I sensed his turning over onto his side and my eyes closed with disgust when I realized what he was going to do next. I could write the script from this point on....
He edged closer and closer to me until his body was but a span away from mine. "You awake, Teri," he whispered huskily.
I didn't answer. I lay as before-tense and quiet hoping that he'd think I was asleep. But he didn't....
He edged closer and closer until our bodies were touching. Lightly-but still touching. I tensed even more so at the touch....
Then his hands seemed to crawl over my back. I shivered as they continued to crawl-now to my shoulders-then across my nightgown-until they came to rest atop my breasts....
I shivered and he took the movement as a sign of my awakeness....
"Teri?" he whispered. "Teri?"
I didn't answer. I just lay there, hoping that he'd stop. That he'd take his hand from my breasts. That he'd leave me alone....
My prayers weren't answered.
With my lack of response, his hand continued to move. Now they were at the buttons to the pajama tops. Slowly but surely they were tugged open. And then his hand moved again-against my now-bare flesh. To my breasts....
He cupped them in the palm of his hands as if weighing them And enjoying the sensation. I could tell that from the contented sigh that seemed to ooze out of his mouth. Then he began to squeeze and kneed them between his fingers. Pushing and pressuring. Touching and caressing. Taunting and teasing. And arousing....
"Oh-oh," I moaned in reaction to the sensations that were being awakened.
Now certain that I was awake, Bill came even closer to me. Pressuring his body against mine so that he seemed to cup my torso in his lap and against his chest.
"Like it," he whispered as if trying to convince himself of my desire. "Like it, don't you?"
I wanted to say no. To shout my denial at him. To push him away. To tell him to leave me alone. But I couldn't....
I did like it.
I didn't like the fact that he was doing it to me-I only liked what he was doing. Then the thought flicked through my mind-would I like it if any man did it to me! Quickly, and with guilt, I pushed the thought out of my mind. Don't think things like that, I told myself. Bill's your husband. You're married to him. You're the mother of his children. He takes care of you ... so push that thought out of your mind....
"Like it?" he repeated.
"Hmmmm," I moaned with the deliciousness of the feeling.
Now certain of my passion-and that my desire matched his-Bill began to stroke and pet at my nipples. I winced with the delight as they quickly erected into hardness under his touch, occassionally moaning when he pinched the tender flesh too hard.
"Don't Bill," I breathed at a sudden seizure of pain.
"Why not?" he said with a light laugh, "you love it!"
It was true. I did love it. Oh, how I loved it. And, as if in answer to that love-that hunger-I quickly turned over and burrowed my body against his. My hands were tight around his neck, pulling him even closer and harder against me. Sure, I was quick to respond-I know that-but I needed so much. I wanted so much. It had been so long ... so horribly long....
And I could pretend, couldn't I?
Pretend that it just wasn't physical. That what I was feeling-the desire-the hunger, the sensations-were there because of love. Because this was my husband who was touching me-caressing me-arousing me. The man I loved-that I had been married to for over eight years-the man who had initiated me into the wonderful world of sexual pleasure. So why shouldn't I pretend. I needed to pretend....
He pressed me even closer against his body, his hands on my breasts pressuring me in tight. I lifted my face from his chest and my mouth sought his. Our lips seared together in a fashion of moisture and heat. The first real lick of sensation washed through my loins....
And then he was pulling his face away from mine. I shuddered against him with, the realization of why he had done it. A kiss meant feelings. Emotions. A tender expression of love. But Bill wasn't interested in that. His hands now crawling over my breasts told me that. He was only interested in reaching the ultimate as quickly as possible. Bringing me to the point of readiness as rapidly as he could. And he didn't know that a kiss was one of the ways he could do it. He still thought that it was all a question of touching me caressing me-exploring my flesh with his hands and fingers and mouth and lips. It was strictly a physical thing to him. Once it hadn't been like that. Once he had been as emotionally caught up in the wonders of our bodies as I was. But no longer. It didn't matter to him any more. Now he was only interested in one thing ... To make it happen.
And I surrendered because there was no turning back now. Make it happen, I breathed to myself. Make it happen ... fast!
Get it over with.
And because that was my desire-my need. I practiced the time-worn tricks of women who want the act to end as quickly as possible....
I began to twist and writhe as if in response to his touch. My breathing heavied and I began to moan as if in answer to the apparent drive of sensations that were threatening to overwhelm me. I began to claw at; his chest and shoulders as if what he was doing to me was causing me to lose complete self-control. In short, I became a woman on fire....
And because of it, Bill became like a man possessed. He became obsessed with my body. Like he couldn't get enough of it. Of touching it. Playing with it. Feeling it. He was all over me, forcing me back to the bed with his hands on my shoulders. Then, after tearing the nightgown from my body, he really went to work on me....
First my breasts and nipples-then down the long swell of my torso-to the rise of my heaving belly-along the throbbing flesh of my thighs....
And it worked.
I responded.
Quickly and sharply.
Now I was no longer pretending. Now my reactions were true.
"Oh Bill! Bill!" I screamed out in sharp reaction to the knife-like delights that were now ripping through my body.
He lifted his face from my tortured torso and I heard him say, "Like it, don't you? You never could get enough!"
I opened my eyes and stared up into his smiling face. For the moment, I think I hated him. Damn ego ... he thought it was because of him, that I was reacting so completely ... didn't he know that any man could make me feel that way...!
Once again I pushed the horrid thought out of my mind. I was ashamed of myself for thinking like that. I felt guilty. Unfaithful. And because of my feelings, I hid from the thought. And from the truth of it....
And surrendered even more completely as if hoping that by complete surrender I could undo the thought....
"Can't get enough?" Bill repeated insistently.
My head whipped from side to side as I became caught up in the whirlpool of delights and pleasures. "Do it! Do it!" I screamed up at him. "Don't wait ... please don't wait!"
Apparently that was the answer he wanted to hear, for he returned to my body with renewed vigor and intensity. I was aflame with passion now. The heat of it causing my body to become bathed in perspiration. Feelings and sensations churned throughout me and I began to thrash from side to side as if seeking to escape the torture of the agony and the ecstasy.
"Oh, hurry! hurry!" I pleaded. "Please hurry!"
But he didn't hurry. It was as if he were taking delight in prolonging the pain of the pleasure. As if he knew the torture I was going through and he wanted it to continue....
It was then that I realized the only way to end it. The only way to make it happen.
My hands reached for him.
I felt him shudder as I clutched him and his response became as quick and as sure as mine as I stroked and caressed and touched.
I knew he liked what I was doing to him because he had often expressed his desire about it. He had always wanted me to be more aggressive in our lovemaking but something had always held me back. Somehow I couldn't make myself do the things that Bill wanted me to do to him. I rarely touched him and to do anything else was out of the question, I just couldn't. I had often thought about it. Wondered what it would be like. How it would make me feel. But somehow I never permitted myself to go that far. My puritanical upbringing, I suppose....
But tonight was different.
I was going to do some of the things Bill had wanted me to do. Not because I wanted to do them, but because I knew it would make him ready for me that much quicker.
And it worked.
I had never seen him respond so quickly. Never felt the desire that seemed to overflow from him. H was ready before I knew what was happening....
I clenched my eyes at the feel of his body clamboring over mine. I sensed and felt him between my legs, spreading them with his hands. He was eager. Quick. There was no holding him back now....
Not that I wanted to hold him back. On the contrary, I wanted him to get it over with as quickly as possible. To end it as soon as he could....
I screamed out with the initial lunging thrust of him. It felt as if he were tearing me apart. And the sound of my scream only served to increase his passion and desire....
I could hear him grunting and groaning from the increased pace of his efforts. And I opened my eyes and stared at his face ... twisted and contorted by the extremes of the pain of pleasure. And it was then that I lost all desire....
It was always that way now. He didn't care about me or my satisfaction. He was only concerned with himself. And because of it, no matter how I might have felt when he began, I always lost the desire at this point....
Of course, he never knew that. How could he tell? My own movements seemed to become more frantic. I began to twist and lunge against him-as if striving to absorb him. I gyrated my hips and thighs in uncontrolled fury, beating my body into his. So how could he tell? What he didn't know was that the only reason I was doing it was to make it happen to him as quickly as possible. I wanted to get it over with. To be done with him....
I could sense how close he was. Tell it by the frenzy of his breathing. By the twisted contortions in his face. By the anguished sounds of his moanings and groanings of ecstatic delight. It was when I felt his body stiffen and tense-as if a steel rod had been thrust through him-that I realized just how close he was ... And then it happened to him. With one final surge of passion, his body seemed to explode. First freeze and congeal and then explode. I watched his reactions, hating him for every delight that he was enjoying. Hating him because it wasn't happening to me. Hating him because of the knowledge of how he had merely used me....
And then he collapsed across my torso. My large breasts cushioned him and he lay there panting, his body wracked with heavy breathing. I lay stiff and still under him-not touching him-not wanting him to touch me. I felt as if I would shatter into a thousand pieces if he did that....
Finally, he raised his head and smiled into my face. His look was one of pure satisfaction.
"That was good," he murmured. "Real good."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't.
"How about you? Was it good for you, too?"
I wanted to shout the truth at him. To tell him how I really felt. But I couldn't do it. In his sexual-selfishness he wasn't even aware of what I would be talking about. He had stopped caring about what happened to me many months ago and yet there was nothing I could do about it. Except to stay away from him. And I didn't know how to do that-at least not yet. So all I could do was lie....
"Yes," I said in a low voice, "It was good."
Then I turned away from him, unable to look into his face. Or maybe it was because I didn't want him to see my face-I don't know. Because I knew he would see the hurt and the anger and the frustration there. And maybe it was his fault and maybe it wasn't ... I don't know. I only know that I didn't want to hurt Bill. I only knew that I couldn't hurt Bill. And that's why I lied....
And vowed to myself that it would be a long time before I would let him make love to me again....
If ever....
CHAPTER TWO
"Hey Teri! You decent?" Damn it, I thought to myself as I recognized the voice calling to me through the locked screen door-Laura-what a time for her to come calling....
I pasted a smile on my face as I opened the door for my next-door neighbor. About the same age as me, Laura Bronson was also in the same boat. She too had married her high school boyfriend-had two children too fast and now was mired down in the misery of a marriage that seemed to be going nowhere. But there was one difference between Laura and myself. To look at her, you'd think she was the happiest woman in the world...!
I couldn't understand that-how did she bear up so well under the tensions and the strain? And they were there-I was positive of that. The two of us spent most of the day together while we waited for our husbands to come home from work. Either at my house or hers. Whoever happened to get finished with the housework first would prepare the coffee and wait for the other. And what did we do then? Talked. Girl-talk. Gossip. Complain. Compare notes. And that's why I knew her home life wasn't much different than mine. Tied down to the house and the kids. Never enough money. And the loss of romance between herself and Don ... that's her husband. But even though she told me about her circumstances-sort of compared notes with me-she never really complained. Never really bitched. And I always had the feeling that there was one little part of her life that she never revealed. Some little secret she kept all to herself....
"C'mon in, Laura," I said, holding the screen door open for her. "Make yourself comfortable-I'll be with you as soon as I make sure the kids are okay."
She nodded and the soft brown hair seemed to bounce on the ivory-like skin of her forehead. Then she went into the kitchen while I made my way into the kids' room to check on them. They were still napping and I was glad of that. Gave me a few minutes rest from them. It's not that I didn't love Pete and Nancy-but sometimes they're just too much for me. Know what I mean? Especially after a night like last night. Bill went right to sleep, but I couldn't. I kept tossing and turning, thinking about what had happened between us and trying to come up with some kind of solution. Of course, I didn't-but that didn't let me get any sleep. And as usual, the kids got up before seven-so maybe that's why I was a little grouchier than normal this morning....
I flopped wearily into the booth in the dinette while Laura poured out our coffee. It wasn't until we were sugared and creamed that she looked at me and shook her head.
"Another bad night, eh? What's the matter, one of the kids sick or something?" she asked with genuine concern.
I shook my head slowly. "No, it wasn't the kids that kept me awake this time."
She sipped slowly at the cup of coffee cradled in her hands while she continued to study me. Then she nodded her head in apparent understanding. "Bill, huh?"
"Yup," I answered with obvious disgust. "Bill."
"Same old thing?"
Once again I nodded. "Same old thing."
There were no secrets between Laura and myself. Once our friendship had been established and the trust had been tested, we bared our souls to each other. With no holds bared. Even when it came to discussing sex problems Because they were similar. She had the same difficulty with Don that I had with Bill. So I wasn't embarrassed to tell her about the details of the previous night....
"Sometimes I wonder if he even knows I'm under him," I said with disgust. "For all the pleasure he gives me, we might just as well do it by mail!"
"I know what you mean," Laura responded with a knowing nod of her head. "Don's the same way."
We drifted into silence for a few moments.
I don't know what Laura was thinking about, but all I could image in my mind was the scene in both bedrooms-hers and mine-and how identical they were....
"It's wham-bam-thank you ma'am," I went on after she had refilled my cup. "And it's driving me crazy. I don't know what to do about it."
"More likely it's driving you up the walls," she then said, as if speaking of her own feelings rather than mine.
"Yeah," I agreed. "It wouldn't be too bad if I didn't like sex. If I was frigid. But I'm not. I'm a normal girl with normal desires and normal needs. And they're not being taken care of."
"You don't have to tell me about it, Teri, I've been through it."
"Been through it?" I asked questioningly. "You mean-mean that you've solved your problem!" I know I sounded too hopeful to Laura, but I couldn't help how I sounded-I was getting desperate for a solution.
She seemed to hesitate for just a moment and then that strange mysterious smile came over her face. "I wouldn't say I've solved the problem, Teri. Don's the same way in bed that he's been for the past year."
"Then what are you talking about?" I said insistently. "You make it sound like that doesn't matter anymore."
"It doesn't."
There was a silence between us while the implication of what she had just said began to grow and grow and grow. But I couldn't believe it. Or maybe it was because I wouldn't let myself believe it. I don't know-that was too close to those thoughts that I had had while Bill was using me-thoughts about whether another man would satisfy me or not. And I didn't want to think thoughts like that. Didn't want to face them....
"Aren't you going to ask me what I really mean?" Laura went on.
I shook my head quickly. "I-I don't think so, Laura," I said weakly.
"Why?" Is it because you're afraid of what you'll hear?"
My answer was to lower my head and stare at the coffee cup in front of me.
"Well, don't worry about it, Teri-it isn't like that at all. I'm not having an affair with anybody."
I heaved a sigh of relief and lifted my head. There was a smile on my face as I looked at her. "I'm sure glad to hear that, Laura," I said happily.
"I couldn't do that," she continued. "I love my husband ... Don's the only man I think I could ever love."
"And that's how I feel about Bill," I answered quickly. "We'll-we'll work it out. Just like you and Don have."
She shook her head. "But we haven't worked it out," she then said simply and straight forwardly.
I shook my head in confusion. "But I don't understand. I thought you and Don...."
"No," she interrupted, "Don hasn't anything to do with it. I've worked it out-Don doesn't know or have anything to do with it."
I sat back on the cushioned seat and stared at her. "Laura," I finally said, "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about. Will you please explain."
Now that the opportunity to let it out was given to her, there was no stopping her. It was like a faucet had been turned on. The words seemed to pour out of her like an endless torrent. And all I could do was listen. I was too enthralled by what I was hearing to interrupt....
"No," she went on, but in a voice that sounded as if she were talking to herself, "I'm not having an affair-I-I don't think I could do that. I-I love Don. But but I have dates...!"
She paused then, waiting to see my reaction. I didn't know what to say. "Dates? What do you mean?"
"With some of my old boyfriends. Fellas from the crowd I used to hang out with before I was married."
"But how could they do that-they-they know you're married, don't they?"
"Of course they do," she said with a bob of her head. "That's what makes it so simple. That way none of them think that anything is going to happen. They know I'm just out for a good time-dancing-surfing-partying. Just like in the old days. And there's always somebody around to take me."
"But what does Don say? Surely he must object!"
She smiled that knowing smile. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
"You mean you don't tell him-he doesn't know what you're doing!"
"Of course not! He-he wouldn't understand. And I don't want to hurt him."
"But how do you get away with it? How lo you get away?"
She shrugged with apparent indifference. Oh, many ways. During the day, I use a baby sitter. And at night, I can always think up some excuse ... at least Don has never objected so far."
I thought about what she way saying. I suppose it was possible to get away with-I wouldn't really know. But remembering how exhausted Bill usually was when he came home I knew that it was possible....
Then I remembered that satisfied look on her face and I had to ask the next question. I held my breath while I waited for her answer after I said the words.
"What-what about sex? What do you do about-about going to bed with one of them?
She answered quickly, as if waiting for the question. "That's up to me...."
"Up to you? What do you mean? I don't understand."
"I don't do it that often," she began to explain slowly. "It's only when I've had a particularly bad time with Don ... know what I mean?"
I nodded in understanding. Of course I knew what she meant.
"And then, I pick the fella. Nobody seduces me unless I want to be seduced. I pick the time and the .place. It's as simple as that."
"Wait a minute!" I said loudly in exasperation, "it's not that simple to me. Isn't that all those friends of yours are after? I mean they know you're a married woman and all that-why else would you be going out with them?"
She shook her head vehemently from side to side in denial of what I was saying. "That's not true. They know all I'm out for is a good time. Fun. Excitement. All the things I've been missing ever since the newness went out of marriage. Thy remember me before I got married-how I was always go, go, go. So they don't think anything's wrong. Why should they? As far as my friends are concerned, I'm not doing anything wrong-I'm just out for a night of fun, that's all! So what if it's without my husband...?"
I pursed my lips as I thought about her words. It was true. I don't think any of my friends would object either. They'd understand. And they wouldn't condemn. No, they'd understand. Except for one thing....
"What about the fella you-you make love with?" I asked in a small voice. "What does he think?"
She shrugged as if it didn't matter what the man thought. "Oh, it doesn't mean anything. He knows that. There's no love or anything like that. Can't two people enjoy each other's body without love entering into it?"
I didn't know what to say about that. Somehow, though I could understand the rest of it, I couldn't accept what she was saying about making love. Maybe it was that puritanical upbringing, I don't know. I only know that I couldn't accept that-maybe it was alright for Laura, but I don't think it would be alright for me. Not with the image of Bill staring me in the face....
"But-but what about you and Don?" I then asked because of my confusion. "Can't-can't you enjoy each other even if there isn't love...?"
"But there is love between us," she said with insistence.
"Then what's wrong?"
"It's because I know he's just using me. He doesn't care how I feel-or if I'm satisfied. All he cares about is his own satisfaction. Do you understand what I mean, Teri?"
I had to nod in agreement. Of course I knew what she meant. Hadn't I just suffered through that ordeal the night before....
"But with someone else it's different. I don't know why, but with another man-who doesn't even love me-he-he takes better care of me in bed! He wants to make sure I'm satisfied-he's concerned about me as well as himself. It's-it's like when Don and I were first married."
I had to agree with her. I knew what she was referring to. I remembered how it used to be with Bill ... those first times were like-like heaven! And it stayed that way until after the first baby-that's when the excitement seemed to die down. That's when he seemed to lose his interest in me ... in seeing that I was satisfied. That's when I came to realize that he was only interested in his own satisfaction....
And that's why I could understand what Laura was telling me....
I rocked by in the dinette in surprise at her next statement...."How would you like to go out with me and my friends, Teri?
"No!" I shouted quickly. I don't know why I answered as fast as I did-maybe it was because deep down inside I was frightened by what was happening there in my kitchen. Frightened by Laura's confession....
"Why not?" she said with a soft smile on her lips. "Nothing's going to happen-we're just going to have a party. Some dancing. A lot of laughs A little drinking. There's nothing to be afraid of."
"I couldn't," I protested again.
"Why not-you'd have a ball."
What-what would I tell Bill?" I then asked nervously.
"That's easy," she answered with nonchalance. "Just tell him you're going out with me. To a movie. It's a perfect excuse-besides, it'll make it easier for me with Don. If they see the two of us going out together, they couldn't possibly suspect anything but that we are going to the movies."
I had to admit she was right. Bill often told me to go with Teri-to a movie or bowling-give you a chance to get out of the house, he said with true concern. And occassionally I had taken him up on his offer ... but just to go to the movies ... But this was different. Much different. "What do you say, Teri?" I heard Laura ask from far off. I had been so busy thinking about the situation that I had forgotten all about her. "I don't know," I answered hesitantly. "Nothing's going to happen," she repeated. And then she paused and looked at me strangely. And that funny smile came across her lips again. "Unless...."
"Unless what?" I interrupted, suddenly frightened by the look on her face. "Unless you want it to happen." I stared at her and then I had to look away. Was the truth so obvious in my face. Because that's exactly what I had been thinking. That nothing would happen unless ... unless ... I made it happen. Unless I let it happen. And that's what I was afraid of. That I might make it happen...!
I cringed as her hand crept over mine. Then I looked up into her face. "I understand," she whispered in understanding. "Really I do. Teri. I know what you're going through. I know because I went through it, too." I didn't say anything because there wasn't anything to say. She know of the temptation that she had put in front of me-and knew how I was nibbling at it. She knew because she had faced the same temptation. And had succumbed to it. But, as I looked at the contented expression on her face, it didn't seem to matter to her. And that was the part that really bothered me....
"Don't you feel-feel guilty?" I whispered in a low tone.
"Guilty? About what?"
"About what you're doing ... about-about cheating on Don!"
She seemed to suck on her lips while she thought about my question. Then she shook her head.
"No, not really. I don't feel as if-as if I'm being unfaithful. I'm not doing what I'm doing because I don't love Don."
"Then why are you doing it?"
She shook her head and for the first time I saw confusion in her face. "I-I can't answer that, Teri. Because I really don't know. All I know is that if I don't go out once in a while, I'll go crafty!"
That I could understand. That made sense to me. And so as I sat there looking at her, I knew that someday soon I would take up her offer. I would go out with Laura. And because I knew that I felt myself shiver....
Because I also knew that I didn't know what would happen when I did. I didn't know because I was afraid of what might happen. Might happen, because I knew, even though I hid from the thought, that I wanted it to happen....
CHAPTER THREE
That night I deliberately picked a fight with Bill.
I knew why I was doing it-to be able to justify to myself what I was going to do....
I waited until he had made himself comfortable on the sofa and had switched on his favorite television program before I brought the subject up.
"Bill" I said with pretended innocence, "I need some money."
"How much?" he asked indifferently, his attention riveted on the television set on the other side of the room.
"Fifty dollars," I said with nonchalance. As if fifty dollars meant nothing to us.
"Fifty dollars!" he shouted, sitting up and staring at me. "What do you want it for-to pay off the Rational debt!"
"Very funny," I said with boredom. "I want it to buy some clothes."
"Clothes! You just bought some, didn't you?"
"That was last year, Bill," I answered acidly. "And it's about time I bought some new ones."
"But fifty dollars," he answered lamely. "I don't-don't think we can afford it. There's that payment on the washing machine coming up-and the car needs a new tire-and then there's some other bills that are coming due No," he repeated with determination, we can't afford fifty dollars at this time." Then, as if that was the end of the conversation, he once again turned back to the television set.
Deliberately and defiantly, I got up from my chair and walked in front of him. Then reaching down I snapped off the set. There was a stony set to my face when I turned to face him....
"Whatdya do that for?" he protested, struggling to a sitting position on the sofa.
"Because I want fifty dollars," I said quietly.
He shook his head angrily. "I told you we can't afford it, Teri."
"I don't care what you told me ... I want fifty dollars."
"Are you crazy or something," he said looking at me strangely. "I've never seen you like this. You know we can't afford it, Teri."
"I don't care whether we can afford it or not-I'm sick and tired of living like this-always needing money-scrimping pennies-never having enough to buy anything for myself. I don't care anymore. I want that fifty dollars, Bill!"
"But what about the other bills?" he pro tested lamely. "How am I going to pay them?"
"That's your problem," I answered as if completely unconcerned. "Go out and get some more money."
"But how?" he moaned. "You know how hard I work-I'm so pooped that it takes mc all weekend to recover."
Once again I shook my head. "I don't want to hear your complaints, Bill-I've got plenty of my own. Want to hear some of them?"
He shook his head with resignation.
"Now do I get the money?" I then asked with a touch of sarcasm in my voice.
Wearily he got up from the sofa and went to the small desk. I watched him write a check and then angrily, he tore it out and handed it to me. I looked at it and then stuffed it into my brassiere with a smile. That only seemed to infuriate him because he knocked the chair over as he got up from the desk and then went skulking back to the television set.
I ignored him and went into the bedroom. Now was the time to apply the last bit of pressure. I knew what I was about to do and though I wasn't proud of it, I had to do it in order to have that argument. One that would drive us apart until I was ready to bring us back together again. That might take days, but it would be alright. For this time I had a real reason for doing it ... not just nerves....
I undressed slowly and then picked out the sexiest negligee I could find in my closet. The powder blue one. The one you could set through. The whole silky material outlined my nakedness as if in a spotlight. The one that revealed my breasts as if they were uncovered-especially my nipples. Then I returned to the living room and eased myself into the chair directly across from Bill....
He glanced up at me and even though he turned quickly away and seemed to rivet his attention back on the set, I knew that he had seen enough. And knew that he was reacting . .
I could tell that from the way he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. The way he started to light a cigarette even though he had one already burning in the ashtray. And in the way he couldn't take his eves from my body....
Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. "I'm sorry, honey," he whispered in a low solicitous voice.
"Sorry?" I asked with bored indifference. "What about?"
"About fitting with you."
I didn't answer him because I knew what he was leading up to. To making up with me. That's the way our arguments always ended. Making up with words. And then, because of our desperateness to please each other and to forget the unpleasantness, we made love. Almost desparately. As if trying to erase the memory of what we had been through. And when it was over and we lay limp and exhausted in each other's arms, our bodies satiated, somehow the antagonism would be gone....
And that's what Bill was trying to accomplish now. That's what he was hoping would happen tonight. And that's exactly why I had put on the almost-nothing negligee. To make sure that he felt that way....
And just to insure his feelings, I leaned forward in the chair, elbows on my thighs and head cupped in my hands, as if trying to get a better look at the television set. And of course the gown fell open, revealing the naked flesh underneath....
It had to fall open, I deliberately hadn't buttoned it....
He blinked at the sight of my bare breasts and licked his lips. "I'm sorry, Teri," he repeated nervously.
"That's okay," I answered. "Forget it."
I leaned back in the chair and then, in an apparent effort to get comfortable, tucked my legs under my torso. And revealed the complete nakedness of my thighs and buttocks.
I heard him gasp and I surpressed a smile. It was working. But that shouldn't have surprised me-it had to work....
Slowly he eased his long lanky frame from the sofa and then, with apparent fatigue, stretched lazily. He pretended a yawn and then turned to look at me.
"Coming to bed, honey?" he asked with pretended innocence.
I sat up straight looking at him with surprise. "No," I answered. "Are you?"
He nodded, now unsure of himself. He didn't expect my response. It was usually the other way around-I was the one who initiated our going to bed after an argument. He didn't know how to handle or react to my pretended boredom....
Then he did the only thing he could think of to do. He did exactly what I knew he would do....
He came over to me.
Crouching in front of me, he put his arms around me. I let him and then he drew me closer. His mouth searched for my lips, but I averted his kiss by turning my cheek. That seemed to slow him, but only for the moment....
Because that's when I felt his hands on my breasts, cupping them in his palms.
I let him touch me. Fondle me. Even play with my nipples until they hardened into erection. It wasn't until he lowered his head and tried to kiss me that I reacted....
"Don't," I said carefully in an even voice. "Don't kiss me there."
Still on his haunches, he looked up at me in surprise. Then he shrugged and his hands went back to my bare flesh-sliding down the valley between my breasts until he was stroking the lushness of my thighs and belly.
And that's when I pushed his hands away.
"Don't touch me, Bill," I said in the same low, even voice.
Once again he looked up at me, surprise and confusion in his face. "Why-why not?" he whispered in an unsure voice.
"Because I don't want you to touch me. That's why."
He didn't know what to make of it. This was so different-so confusing. "But-but I want-want you," he managed to stammer.
I shook my head. "But I don't want you." Though I said the words softly, they were like whiplashes across his face.
"I don't understand."
I shook my head and looked down at him. "It's not very difficult to understand," I went on. "I just don't want to make love with you tonight."
"Why not?" he said angrily, rising to his feet.
"Because it's wrong, that's why!"
"Wrong! What's wrong with making love with your wife!" From his angry tone, I could sense that he didn't have the faintest idea of what was happening between us.
"Because that's how we end all our arguments," I said in a voice as if I were explaining to a small boy. "And I don't want to do that anymore-that's not what sex means to me anymore."
"What does it mean to you?" he said angrily.
"Never mind what it means to me!" I shouted at him, my anger matching his. "P's what it means to you that makes it wrong!"
He shook his head in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You just use me, Bill ... that's what it means. You get your kicks and that's the end of it. You think just because we're married, you're entitled to use my body for your own satisfaction. But you never think of what it means to me-never think of my feelings!"
"What the hell are you talking about!" he yelled at me questioningly. And because he really didn't understand, I felt fully justified in what I was doing to him. And in what T was going to do....
I pushed my way out of the chair and he backed off an arm's length away as if frightened by my sudden movement. "I'll tell you what I'm talking about-I'm sick and tired of being used by you for your pleasure. You don't turn me on anymore, Bill-I don't want you anymore!"
He stared at me wide-eyed in disbelief. 'Don't you-don't you want to make love anymore?"
"Of course I do!" I shouted at him. And then as if to emphasize my words, I ripped the negligee away from my body. Now completely naked, I flaunted myself at him. thrusting my breasts up toward his face. "Look at me!" I commanded. "With a body like mine, don't you think I want to make love-don't you think I need to make love!"
His eyes roamed over my naked torso and I could see the hunger in his eyes. I don't think he ever wanted me as much as he did right then. But he didn't know what to do about it. Didn't know what to say. He had never seen me like this and because of it, he had no response other than a slight nodding of his head in agreement to my questions....
"I'll say I do!" I went on. "But I'm not getting what I need from you! But I'll be damned if I'm going to let you satisfy yourself at my expense ... and leave me-leave me climbing the walls with my own needs!"
And then deliberately I spun on my heels and turned away from him. I walked toward the bedroom, my buttocks bouncing because of the anger in my body. And I knew that he couldn't take his eyes from me. I peeked a glance at his over my shoulder just before going into the room ... it was like he had never seen me naked before....
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry as I put on a pair of pajamas and got into the bed. Then I stopped thinking about Bill and what had happened. Then all I could think of was what would happen the following night.
The night I went to the party with Laura....
CHAPTER FOUR
"Do I look alright?" I asked Laura nervously as we drove through the night.
"Oh, don't be so worried," she answered gaily, her mind only partially occupied by the task of driving. "You look just fine-just fine."
Deep down inside I knew what was bothering me. Really bothering me. Bill. The feeling of antagonism that I had created the night before was still with us. We had been in the silent stage during the day-neither one of us talking to each other. Sounds silly doesn't it, but that's just another game that people play with each other. I guess both of us were waiting for the other to break the silence but our pride wouldn't let us give in....
He didn't say anything when Laura came over to pick me up but I think there was a hurt look on his face when we both left-supposedly to go to the movies. Maybe that's what was bothering me-that hurt look. Because I didn't want to hurt him. That, and the fact that I knew I was lying to him. I wasn't going to the movies with Laura. I was going to a party. I was escaping from him in order to have fun-a good time-no matter what that might mean....
And so I sat quiet and guilty on the front seat while Laura whistled happily as she drove toward town. If she knew what was bothering me she pretended to ignore it-or else she was too busy thinking about the evening ahead....
"Well, here we are," she said as she pulled to the curb in front of an apartment house. I looked around trying to get my bearings-just an apartment house, that's all. You couldn't tell anything about the kind of people who lived in from the outside. Just an apartment house....
"C'mon, let's go. We're late." Then, without waiting for my response, she got out on her side of the car and started toward the entrance. Hurriedly, I followed after her. Tension tightened in my stomach and apprehension toyed at my brain.
But it was too late to turn back. Too late to change my mind. The door was opening and a small dark girl was greeting us with obvious enthusiasm....
"Os, Laura, I'm so glad you could make it! We had just about given up on your coming. And this must be Teri-your friend. Hi, I'm Susan."
I took the small hand that she offered and forced a smile into my lips as she dragged me into the apartment. I supposed it belonged to her-I really don't know-but it was like any other apartment I had ever been in. Nothing fancy, nothing special. Some nondescript furniture-television-and a hi fi that was going full blast.
And people.
It was crowded with people. There must have been thirty couples there-all about my age or a little younger-and all of them obviously having a good time. Which was exactly why I was there ... to have a good time....
Susan took me around from couple to couple, making the introductions. The names and the faces became blurred in my memory-there was just too many of them to remember or to associate. But there were people-having a good time-enjoying themselves-and so I formed no impressions about them-they were just people out for an evening's fun....
Teri left me-or rather a tall thin blonde fella dragged her from me and swept her to the corner of the room that was used for dancing. The beat was loud and hard and I watched her doing the frug and several of the other dances that had once been a part of my life. It's been so long, I thought to myself, I wonder if I can still dance. Bill and I haven't been out dancing in almost a year-I-I bet I've forgotten how....
And then, to my horror, I didn't have the chance to wonder-I had the chance to find out if I could still dance....
He was tall and dark and handsome and he pulled me from the corner of the room where I had been standing and watching the goings-on. He had a deep smile as re tugged me to the dance floor and trough I wanted to resist, a part of me fought against that resistance....
"C'mon," he was saying with a teasing tone in his voice, "let's see if you can dance as well as you can watch!"
I smothered a protest and began to dance.
Concentrating on what I was doing, I became so engrossed that soon all inhibitions and shyness were gone and forgotten. He said some approving words while we faced each other and the encouragement was all that I needed. Soon it was just like in the old days-when I was growing up-dancing all the dances ... doing all the steps ... to eager to stop. And I loved it. It wasn't hard to pick up the old steps and my partner showed me some of the new ones and it was as if we had been dancing together all our lives. And I loved it....
Finally, we both had to stop from exhaustion. We had danced ourselves out. Breathing heavily, we left the dance floor and I let him take me by the hand and lead me toward the small bar on the far side of the room. I climbed up on the stool and watched him move behind the bar. I smiled when he put on an exaggerated act of being a bartender....
"What'll it be, Teri?" he asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of making my drink. "Just name your poison."
I wasn't much of a drinker-just a couple was all I needed to set the room whirling and so gave serious thought to his question. No matter what, I didn't want to get drunk I couldn't do that. How could I ever explain that to Bill!
"Vodka and ginger ale," I answered. "And go easy on the vodka, please."
He looked at me surprised and then shook his head. I watched him mix the drink, noting how much vodka he poured into the highball glass-more than I wanted. Oh well, I thought to myself, I just won't finish it, that's all....
After he poured himself a drink, he came around to my side of the bar and seated himself on the stool next to me. We watched the other couples in the room for a while, each of us deep in our own thoughts but still aware of the other....
"You're Laura's friend, aren't you?" he finally said. It was as if he couldn't think of anything else to say and I smiled to myself with my awareness of his apparent shyness.
"Yes, I answered, "but I didn't catch your name."
"Phil,' he answered quickly, turning to face me on the stool. "Phil Anderson."
"Oh," was my inane response and I think I blushed because I realized that I felt as awkward as he obviously did.
"Are you married, too?" he then asked and the question caused me to stiffen on the barstool. I hadn't expected anybody to mention the fact that I was married and the surprise of it caused me to bury my face and study the glass in my hand as if it were the most important thing in the world. Then, because I didn't know what to say, I quickly drank deeply of the vodka and ginger ale. I didn't resist when he took the empty glass from my hand and returned to his position behind the bar, saying, "I'll get you a refill." In fact I was glad he was busy. Glad, because it gave me time to think about my answer to his question....
I didn't look at him as he busied himself with ice and liquor bottles. I leaned with my back to the bar and studied the other couples in the room. And I felt the tension begin to clutch at my being as I thought about Bill. And what I was doing. And wondering what Phil was thinking because of his knowledge of the fact that though I was married, I was here at this party. I wondered if he thought that it gave him the privilege of making a pass at me. Wondered if he thought that because I was here without my husband, I was looking for a man. And because I couldn't shake thoughts like that out of my mind, the tension grew and grew and grew. And turned into a fear. A fear that maybe the answers to those questions were-were ... yes....
"Here's your drink," he said cheerfully, coming back from behind the bar and handing me the glass. Then he resumed his seat next to me. I knew he v. .s looking at me while I stared straight ahead, and my knowledge of it made me nervous. In an effort to hide that nervousness and because I didn't know what to do or to say, I sipped quickly at the drink.
Suddenly, I no longer felt safe sitting there on the barstool next to him. Suddenly I was afraid of what I might do or say. And so I sought refuge in the only place I could find it ... back on the dance floor....
"C'mon," I said with forced gaiety, putting my almost-empty glass back on the bar behind me, "let's dance some more. Haven't danced in a long time."
Then, without waiting for his reaction, I pushed away from the bar and walked on unsteady feet toward the other couples. He followed quickly behind me and I turned to face him....
I couldn't make out the meaning behind his strange expression and because I couldn't I threw myself into the movements and intricate steps. Forget about the look on his face. I told myself-lose yourself in dancing....
And so I did as my mind told me-I threw myself into dancing, forgetting everything else. And it worked. I lost myself in what I was doing and because of it, I forgot about the fears and the tensions. Soon I was laughing and enjoying myself as Laura had promised I would. Soon there were no other thoughts except those that made me feel free and happy. I hadn't felt so relaxed in months. Even my thoughts about Bill became pleasant. I was no longer mad at him-I wasn't mad at anybody. I was having too good a time to be mad at anybody....
"Whew," I finally said with exhaustion, "let's take a break."
"Good,' Phil answered, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with a white handkerchief, "I thought you'd never stop!"
We walked off the dance floor and noticing that the barstools were all filled, he guided me to a small loveseat in the corner of the room. Helping me to the cushions, he stood over me with a soft smile on his lips while I tried to cool off.
"Just make yourself comfortable, Teri," he said, "I'll get us something to drink. Okay?"
"Okay," I agreed without thinking. A drink would taste good right now-just what the doctor ordered.
I watched him thread his way through the crowd of people and realized that I no longer felt apprehensive or afraid. I was at ease with myself and the surroundings. Comfortable. Like I finally fit. And it was nice not to have to worry about everything that was said to me or the things I might do. I settled back deeper against the cushions and began to look for Laura. I had seen her occassionally while dancing, but ever since we had arrived at the party, she had gone her way leaving me to my own devices. She seemed to know everybody and it was obvious that she was very popular with the fellas at the party. But now, as I searched the room for her, she was no where to be seen. I wasn't worried, I knew that she was around someplace, it was just that at that moment I wanted to question her about the Phil....
"A penny for your thoughts," he said with a smile as he returned from the bar and handed me my drink.
I blushed because my thoughts had been about him. Then to cover up my embarrassment, I quickly began to sip at the drink. Settling himself next to me on the small sofa, he watched me while I drank and then took the glass from my hand when I was finished. "Want another?" he asked carefully.
I thought about it. I knew my limited capacity for alcohol. But I also knew that I didn't want to sit there and talk to the handsome stranger. And so, because I felt it would give me something else to do, I nodded my head "And not so strong this time, Phil."
He smiled and nodded as he pushed to his feet and went back to the bar. I leaned back against the cushions an closed my eyes, smiling softly to myself because of the contentment I suddenly felt. I didn't even bother to open my eyes when I was aware of his return. He settled himself down beside me and taking my hand, put the glass in it. I immediately began to drink, sipping at it carefully as if afraid not to....
I sank back into silence in the front seat and stared out the window at the passing scene. Dressed in capris and a blouse, somehow I didn't feel dressed right for going to a party. Especially one where I didn't know anybody. But Laura had insisted that I looked just fine so what was I really worried about...?
The liquor hit me almost immediately. I knew that. But somehow I didn't care. It was good to relax. To forget and get away from the problems of taking care of two kids and a husband. Dishes. Cooking. Cleaning. Boredom. Routine. I sighed heavily with the contentment and continued to sip at my drink. And the more I drank the happier I became. The more relaxed I became. The less I cared about anything but that which was happening right now. I only was concerned with the present. Not the past and not the future. Only with the right now....
And the right now was good. No responsibilities. No obligations. No nothing except to relax and enjoy myself....
I didn't move when I became aware of his arm dropping from the back of the small sofa and coming to rest on my shoulders. With the lack of resistance on my part, he became brazen-more bold-and drew me in close against his side. I murmured contentedly. It was nice sitting that way. A man's arm around my shoulders-no problems-nothing to think about except what was happening And I liked what was happening....
Even when he kissed me.
I didn't expect it, but it happened anyway For suddenly Phil was gently easing the empty glass out of my fingers and placing it on the small coffee table in front of us. Then he leaned back against the cushions and lifted my chin with his hand so that I was forced to look at him. I remember smiling happily into his face. And then his mouth was on mine ... And I liked it.
I returned his soft and tender kiss. Re turned it because I wanted to return it. Like the feel of it-the sensations. Our lips were soft and full against each other and we seemed to settle down into the sofa, our arms locked around each other, and really began to enjoy each other. Our mouths. Our lips Our tongues.
He was good. Very good. There was n: hurrying in what he was doing. No demanding. He let me take my time-savor each sensation. And slowly-but surely, the delight.' began to build. And the desires began to grow ... and grow ... and grow....
An obvious expert, Phil knew what was happening to me. And at just the right moment-when he knew I wouldn't resist-his hand came to rest lightly on my breasts. As if in an effort to hide from what he was doing to me, I clung to him, kissing him deeper and harder than before. I sensed his reaching be hind us with his free hand and turning out the light from the single small lamp on the end table....
Then his hand began to move over my breasts. Slowly. Gently. Tenderly. Softly. And sensation came to life. A tiny flame of desire with each stroke the delight began to rise. The began to lick within my loins....
"Good ... oh so good," I moaned, pulling my mouth away from his and burying my face in his shoulder.
Apparently that was all he needed to hear That was the clue he was waiting for. The signal that told him there would be no resistance. For though a part of me did resist it was overcome by the delicious feelings that were snaking through my being. I wanted him to touch me. More ... more ... more . .
His fingers toyed with the buttons on my blouse, opening it in slow, gentle movements. I flinched at the first touch of his hands on my bra-covered breasts. Then, as if in answer to what was happening to me, I arched my back and thrust myself hard against his hands. The thrills knifed through me in deep hard slices of pleasure....
I felt the crawl of his fingers on the bulge of flesh that protruded over the edge of the brassiere. There was no rush in what he was doing-no haste. It was as if he wanted me to savor the flavor of every delight. To enjoy each sensation as it came into being....
And I did.
For then his fingers were down inside the brassiere cup and were pushing and stroking against the nakedness of my flesh. My breasts cried out for his touch-for the feel ol his hands and fingers-and I cried out with relief with the awareness of him reaching be hind me and unhooking the snaps of my bra Then my breasts fell free. No longer guarded.
His hands were like satin on my skin Stroking. Touching. Caressing. I couldn't contain myself. I began to twist and turn on the sofa as each delight brought me higher and higher toward the complete loss of control.
I didn't think about making love with Phil. I was only concerned with what was happening to me. The feelings that were now racing unchecked through my body-through my being. That was enough. That was ecstasy. I didn't need anything else. Just his touch. Just to thrill to the feelings of what he was doing to me....
I screamed a soft little scream when his fingers touched my nipples. Already hardened because of what he had been doing, they seemed to burst with an ache that I had never known before.
I wanted to cry out. To whimper. To moan, ft had been so long since a man had handled me like this. So long since a man had de lighted me like this. That's why I didn't need anything else. That's why this was enough. The pleasure was supreme....
And I suppose I could have gone on like that forever. Endlessly. Lost in the whirlpool of delight and sensuality. But then something happened that brought me back to the reality of the moment....
His hand came to rest on my thigh. And began to stroke the quivering flesh concealed by my capris. And it was then that I returned to reality. It was then that I knew what was happening. What all this was leading up to. I could feel it because of the searching touch of his fingers. And I knew what it was doing to me. And to him. I knew that if I let him go on, I wouldn't want him to stop....
I would want to go all the way with him.
And I wasn't ready to do that. Not yet. Not while the image of Bill was looking at me, the hurt and the anger etched into his surprised face....
I sat up, pushing his hands away in sudden protest. "No! No!" I whimpered. "Don't touch me! You mustn't touch me!"
He stopped and looked into my face. I guess he saw the fright and surprise because slowly, but reluctantly, he took his hands from my body. "I-I thought you didn't mind," he said softly. "You didn't seem to mind."
How could I tell him the truth? It wasn't his fault. I had wanted him to touch me. To do the things he had been doing to me. No, I hadn't minded at all ... I had wanted....
But now I no longer wanted. Now there was too much guilt and fear within me to want any longer. I don't know if Phil realized that, but he sat quietly, saying nothing while he watched me hurriedly refasten the hooks of my brassiere after filling my breasts back into the cups. Then quickly I rebuttoned my blouse and straightened out my capris. My face was still flushed with excitement when I looked at him and I think I blushed with embarrassment because of the sudden awareness that this man had seen my nakedness....
"I think-think I'd better go home," I then said in a low and hushed voice. "Yes, I think it's time I went home."
"Want me to drive you?" he asked solicitously.
"No! No!" I said hurriedly, thinking of what might happen if Bill happened to see us. Then, as I remembered Laura, I heaved a sigh of relief. "Besides, I came with Laura-M have to go home with her."
The knowing look on his face told me he realized the weakness of my story. But he didn't push the point and I was grateful for that. "Will you be coming out again?" he then asked. "I mean to another party?"
I shook my head in confusion. "M don't know, Phil. I don't know." And it was true at the moment, I didn't know. I didn't know anything except that I wanted to get out of that apartment. No, that wasn't true ... I wanted to get away from this dark and handsome and thrilling man....
Then I stood up and looked around. "I've got to find Laura," I said nervously. "Don't see her around. Do you know where she is?"
He shrugged with indifference and then casually lit a cigarette. "Nope," he finally answered, "I don't know where she is. But she's around someplace ... do you want me to look for her for you?"
"No," I answered hurriedly. "I'll find her myself. And-and Phil...."
He stood up and an arm's length apart, we studied each other. "Yes?" he finally said. "What is it?"
I held my hand, feeling stupid because of the gesture. "Thanks ... thanks for showing me a good time."
He took my hand in his and seemed to study it for a long moment. There was a smile on his face when he looked up at me. Then he nodded. "Fine," he finally said, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Maybe we can get together again."
I didn't answer him, but turned quickly away and hurriedly went to the other side of the room as if searching for Laura. I didn't answer him because I was afraid to answer him. I didn't answer him because I didn't know what to say....
Then I pushed him out of my mind while I looked for Laura. After a while, I came to the realization that she wasn't in the living room. Nobody seemed to know exactly where she was-they had all seen her, but not recently. And nobody seemed to really care what had happened to her. I felt the slow surge of anger at their apparent indifference and then realizing that she wouldn't leave the party without me, I began to look through the rest of the apartment for her.
I found her in one of the bedrooms.
She was in bed with a man that I hadn't noticed before and the look on her face when I opened the door was one of amusement rather than embarrassment.
"Hi, Teri," she said casually from the bed with a wave of her hand. "Having fun?" Then j she turned to look at the naked man beside her. "I am."
I think my face turned the color of fire-flushed and red with confusion. I had walked in on them just after they had finished making love. That was obvious. Only too obvious. But what surprised me was their indifference to my walking in on them. It was as if it didn't matter-as if they didn't think anything o it. And because I didn't know what to say, I merely stood there, looking from one to the other and wondering what to do....
"Well close the door," Teri finally said, "it's getting chilly in here!"
I wondered why she didn't put something on. Or hide beneath the blankets. But she didn't do anything. She merely lay sprawled out on top of the sheets, her naked body still showing the glow and the sheen of lovemaking, and looked at me with that funny expression on her face. The man-whoever he was-lay on his side, supporting his head in the cup of his hand, while with his free hand he continued to trace small shapes and figurines up and down her body. She seemed to enjoy what he was doing to her-or at least it didn't bother her, for she made no effort to move his hand from her. And the look on her face told me of how satisfied she had been....
Only a woman who has been fulfilled can look like that. All aglow-her eyes sparkling-her lips moist and lush with satisfaction. Yes, there was no doubt in my mind that Laura had enjoyed it. And I suppose I was envious of her-it had been a long time since I had had a look like that on my face....
"What do you want, Laura?" she then asked, stretching her arms over head so that her tight pert breasts were pulled upward. I couldn't take my eyes from them-they seemed so appealing. Even to me, a woman....
I shook conscious back into my being and slowly answered. "I-I want to go home, Laura. It's-it's getting late."
I saw the disappointment cloud her face as she looked at the small alarm clock on the night table. "Yeah," she finally answered, "I suppose you're right-it is time to go. Damn it, just when I was getting in the mood!" She turned and smiled down at the man who was still toying innocently with her body. "How about you, Stud-are you just getting in the mood?"
He grinned at Laura as he rolled over onto his stomach. "You know me, Laura-I'm always in the mood. But don't sweat it, there'll be plenty of other times!"
I wanted to get out of there. I didn't want to listen to them. I felt ashamed and cheap by what I had seen and what I had heard. And yet, I couldn't leave-I didn't want Laura to know how I felt....
I watched her as she swung her lithe legs to the side of the bed. She was smiling as she stood up and then said, "How about it, Teri-do I have enough time?" I knew what she meant and I shook my head savagely from side to side. Not because she didn't have enough time, but because I didn't want her to do it again. At least not while I knew about it....
She sighed as if with disappointment and then got out of the bed. I looked at her as she stretched her contented body. Then I murmured, "I'll wait-wait for you outside, Laura. Please hurry-we've-we've got to get home."
Then, without waiting for her answer, I left them alone in the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I leaned against the wall with my eyes closed as if trying to regain my composure and while I stood there on shuddering legs, my mind played with the events of the evening....
I did have fun, I insisted to my conscience. Dancing ... drinking ... talking. And not having to worry about the kids or tomorrow's washing. It was fun. And I enjoyed myself. I really did. And I didn't do anything wrong. Anything to be ashamed of. So what if Phil kissed me-played with my breasts! I didn't let him do anything else to me. Even though I wanted him to do more. I didn't let him. So that doesn't make me bad, does it? Not like Laura. Not bad like her. I-I couldn't do what she did. And she didn't even try to hide it-like she was proud of it. I-I don't understand that. I can understand her needing to do it-God only knows, I can understand that-but she was so brazen and open about it! Oh, I know I could never be like that ... never!
And then the bedroom door was opening and Laura, straightening her pants, was smiling as she came out into the hall. The man, whoever he was, stayed behind and as we walked back into the living room, it was as if he didn't even exist....
"C'mon, honey," she then said, taking my arm and becoming all business-like, "we've got to make tracks to get home. Those men of ours must know when the movie lets out! Oh well, we can always tell them we stopped to have something to eat afterwards-they'll believe anything. At least Don will-how about Bill?"
I nodded in apparent agreement, but I really didn't know what Bill would say. I only hoped that his silence caused by the argument of the night before would continue. That he wouldn't say anything....
We hurriedly said our goodbyes and I was grateful for the fact that Phil didn't come over to me as we talked to our hostess. I knew he was watching me-I happened to glance in his direction and saw his studied expression while he leaned against the wall, a glass of liquor in his hand, and watched me. Our eyes met and he silently toasted me with the glass. I nodded and smiled nervously at him and then heaved a sigh of relief when I saw that he was content just to stand there and look at me. I don't know what I would have done if he had come over....
Then finally we were out of the apartment and scurrying down the steps to the car. Without a moment's hesitation, Laura twisted the key and tore life into the engine. We seemed to squirt away from the curb as she stepped on the gas. A few moments later, we were tearing down the highway that lead back to the housing tract where we both lived....
"Have a good time?" she said out of the side of her mouth while she concentrated on the highway in front of her.
"Yes," I answered in a low voice. "I had a real good time."
"Meet anybody interesting?"
I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to tell her the truth because somehow it didn't seem right to do that. We weren't young girls discussing our dates-the men we had met at a party-we were young married women hurrying through the night to our husbands and our children! And somehow it didn't seem to fit-to discuss anybody but Bill....
Bill! I thought of him alone in the house. Waiting for me. Believing me. And the more I thought, the guiltier I felt. "Oh hurry," I finally said, turning on the front seat to look at her. "It's so late, Laura!"
She reached over and patted my knee. "don't worry about it, Teri. Knowing our husbands they're both probably sound asleep-the dishes are still in the sink and the television set is still on. So don't worry about it. Now tell me, did you meet anybody interesting?"
And because I knew she wasn't in the mood for anything else, I told her about Phil Anderson.
"Phil Anderson!" she said loudly with a strange purse to her lips. "You sure picked a winner, baby."
"What do you mean?"
"Phil's so rich he doesn't know how much money he's actually got. And if he decided to get interested in you, there's no stopping him. Phil usually gets what he wants.
I laughed derisively. "Go on, Laura-he's probably forgotten all about me already. Won't even give me a second thought. No, I'm afraid your Phil Anderson just isn't that interested."
She shook her head. "You're the one who's wrong. Teri-if Phil spent the whole evening with you, he's interested! Just leave it up to him-he'll take it from here...."
I thought about the dark handsome face. And I shivered. First in anticipation. And then in fright. For the face suddenly changed into the scowling image of Bill ... who was waiting for me at home with my children....
That's when I began to sob softly to myself.
CHAPTER FIVE
I felt as if I was being smothered by a wall of guilt. As if that wall had suddenly collapsed and I was buried underneath it. There seemed to be no escape-no matter how hard I tried to dig my way out from under the debris, it kept collapsing around me again and again-burying me deeper and deeper.
"Oh Bill-Bill," I kept moaning to myself, making certain that Laura wasn't aware of what was happening to me, "I'm sorry-so sorry. I'll-I'll never do it again ... I promise!"
And as I sat there on the front seat in the darkness, I began to think of what had happened. Of what I had just done. And why I had done it....
What was wrong with me? Had I been so frustrated, that I had to seek an escape that way! Was I such a child that I couldn't accept my role as a married woman! If something was wrong at home, then the place to find the answer was in my home-not try to escape outside it!
Oh Bill, I kept muttering over and over again. I'm so sorry-so sorry! And I was. It wasn't his fault. Not really. He had given up as much as I had-maybe even more. A career. He had forgotten all about his dreams of medical school because of the immediate pressure of earning a living. And though he had said he would go back to college when things got a little easier, they never seemed to get easier. And after Peter came, we both knew that he would never go back to college. Even though neither of us mentioned it, we both still knew the truth....
How selfish I had been. Always demanding things from him. Blaming him because life didn't seem so exciting anymore. Because marriage didn't seem to be as much fun as it was in the beginning. Guess it wasn't as exciting to him either-or as much fun. It was work-work-work. At a job he couldn't stand but that he couldn't give up because it was pretty good money. And the obligations-they belonged to him, too. But he didn't complain about them. He just did what he could to make things easier for us without a single word. What was wrong with me! Couldn't I see that things were as bad for him as they were for me...?
And while I sat there in the car and thought about these things, I was suddenly over-, whelmed with a sudden rush of love for Bill. Maybe it was because of my guilt feelings-I don't know. I only knew that I wanted him as I used to want him. The way we were when we first started making love. I became tense and stiff and I couldn't wait until Laura got us home. I would show him then-I would go to him-show him how badly I wanted him-do-do the things he had always wanted me to do....
Things were going to be different between us, I thought to myself. I've learned my lesson. I'll never become like Laura. Never! And-and even our sex life would get better. He'd understand what I needed. Bill was smart that way-he'd know....
Oh hurry, Laura, hurry! I can't wait-I can't wait. I need my husband! I want my husband! So hurry-please hurry!
It seemed like an eternity before she stopped at the curb in front of my house and with a hurried goodbye, I walked quickly up the path to the front door. I heard her calling something to me but I shut my senses out to everything else but the task of opening the front door and so didn't hear her. Peeking in through the front window, I could see that Bill had left a light on for me, but that the rest of the house was dark. Nervously, I opened the door and walked inside....
"Bill? Bill?" I called softly into the darkness, hoping against hope that he had fallen asleep on the sofa while waiting up for me. But there was no answer and I knew that he was in the bedroom. Funny how you can tell things like that even though you can't see them-guess you just get to know the habits of a man after you've lived with him for as long as I had lived with Bill....
Quietly, went into our bedroom. I heard the sound of his heavied breathing and knew from the steadiness of it that he was sound asleep. I opened the curtains so that his body was bathed in moonlight. Standing by the edge of the bed, I looked down into his relaxed face. I could feel the warm glow of desire spread through me as I looked at him. He looked so fine ... so good ... so desirable....
I turned away from him and began to undress quietly so as not to disturb him. While I undressed I wondered what to wear to bed. What negligee? What garment that would make me more alluring-more desirable to him. I wanted him to want me. To want me so that he would satisfy me as I wanted to satisfy him....
And as I stood in front of the closet, looking at my clothes that were bathed in the moonlight, I suddenly knew what would be the best outfit to wear. Suddenly knew what would serve my purpose best. With a satisfied smile on my face, I softly closed the closet door and returned to the bed....
Naked.
That would be the best way. Without any clothes on. There could be no doubting what I was after once he became aware of my nudity. I never went to bed without pajamas or a nightgown so there could be no misinterpreting the meaning behind my naked flesh....
Gingerly, I crawled into the bed and eased my way under the sheets. I felt him move and giggled at the sound of his moaning in his sleep. He seemed so innocent-so child-like. And then I moved closer to him....
He moved again, aware of my presence. I continued to edge even closer, until my body was surrounding his, spoon-like. He lay calmly against me, his breathing deep as before. It was as if he wasn't aware of my nearness. Well, I would make him aware. I would make him know....
I waited until he rolled over onto his back and then carefully edged to his side. Then I reached down the long length of his torso and-and touched him....
At first there was no response. The reaction didn't happen until I began to caress him-stroke him. Then I heard the sounds of his breath being sucked in and his hands were grasping my wrists....
"Teri, what are you doing?" he whispered in the darkness.
I turned to look at him. "I-I want you," I murmured.
Silence spread between us and then gradually his grip on my wrists relaxed. "And-and I-I want you," he responded in a low and hesitant voice.
I felt him reach for me. He shuddered with his awareness of my nakedness and then his hands were on my breasts. I quivered with the excitement and my own hands tightened their grip....
"Oooh, that's good," he moaned. "So good."
"Touch me," I whispered up at him. "Touch me real good."
And he touched me real good. With his hands and his palms and his fingers. Shaping and moulding and teasing my large breasts until my whole body was responding to the delight. My nipples budded into erection under his fingertips and my eyes clenched closed because of the completeness of the ecstasy....
But that wasn't enough. I wanted him to enjoy as I was enjoying. I wanted him to thrill as I was thrilling. I wanted both of us, together, to scale the heights of passion and pleasure....
"Do-do you want me to ... to...." even though I couldn't finish the words, I knew he knew what I meant.
"Oh yes," he whispered. "I've always wanted you to do that."
And so I did it.
Steeling myself, forcing my now-tense body to relax, I did what he wanted me to do to him. What he had been waiting for me to do ever since we had started making love to each other. I was frightened because I didn't know what to expect but my fear was soon forgotten in the overwhelming completeness of his reaction to what I was doing....
Looking up and raising my eyes, I saw him fall back on the bed, twisting and writhing as the pain of the pleasure ... as the ache of the ecstasy ... took control of him. He was like a man possessed and I knew it was because of what I was doing to him. And because I knew, the sense of power that it gave me only served to heighten and increase the intensity of what I was doing. I wanted him to enjoy as he was enjoying-I wanted him to thrill as he was thrilling-I wanted him to feel as he was feeling....
I never knew a man could respond so completely as Bill responded. I never thought a man responded like that. And because it was all strange and new to me, I tried to make up for all the years I felt I had denied him And his tormented body told me that I was succeeding....
"No ... more ... no more," he groaned, pushing me away. "I-I can't stand it anymore. I can't stand it!"
Instinctively, I realized what had happened How close I had brought him to completion And I shuddered because of it. Shuddered because if I had continued, my own needs and hunger would have been left unfulfilled....
He pulled me to him, crushing my breasts against his hard chest. While he held me, I fumbled at the buttons and drawstring to his pajamas, pulling them from his body while his hands and finger stroked and touched my naked flesh....
I responded as quickly as he had. My being felt like it was a volcano-seething and bubbling and preparing itself for the inevitable explosion. And I waited for it to happen....
His hands forced me onto my back and then he possessed my flesh. All over. My breasts and nipples ... my belly ... my thighs ... my buttocks. He did things to me that he had never done before and I knew that he was doing them only because of the freedom I had given him because of my initial actions....
I lay there on the rumpled sheets, twisting and turning as slice after slice of sensation cut into me. I could feel the flame within me licking higher and higher as I moaned and whimpered. But I didn't care ... I didn't care. It was happening ... it was happening....
And as I lay there, feasting on the pleasures he was giving me, I castigated myself for what I had done a few hours previously....
Go out to a party, will you! Try to find satisfaction elsewhere! When-when this is waiting at home for you! What's the matter with you, you must be sick or something. Thinking that another man could give you more than your own husband! Letting another man kiss you-fondle your breasts-you should be-should be punished!
And I was.
Not immediately, but soon thereafter ... and oh, how I suffered for it...!
He kept building me up ... up ... up ... until finally I couldn't stand the pressure anymore. My nerve-endings seemed to be ripping apart. I was screaming and crying and pulling at him all at the same time. I wanted him ... enough was enough. Now was the time for completion ... now was the time for satisfaction ... for the ultimate....
"Hurry! Oh, hurry!" I moaned through clenched teeth, my fingers clawing at his arms and shoulder. "Please hurry!"
He hurried.
I sensed his impatience a he crouched between my spread legs and thighs. He was as eager to get on with it as I was to have aim....
"Don't wait!" I pleaded as he paused. "Oh don't wait!" And he didn't wait.
His hands clutched at my hips and he drew me toward him. Uncontrollably, I lunged upward, thrusting hard against him. I screamed out at the first sensation. It was like a knife slicing deep into me. And I loved it....
The scream seemed to spur him on with increased intensity. His body slammed against me, as if propelled by rage and fury. The passion within me became purged with pain and the delights of desire began to dwindle as the ache and the agony tried to smother me....
I knew what was happening.
It had happened so many times before that there could be no mistaking it. Bill was becoming so enveloped within his own delights and pleasures that he was forgetting all about me. All about what was happening to me....
"Oh, no! No! No!" I protested blindly. "Don't let it happen-no yet ... wait for me!" I grabbed for him-trying to clutch his body against mine so that he would take me along with him into the wonderful world of pleasure and passion. I grabbed at him, twisting and turning under him-gyrating savagely as if seeking to suck the pleasure out of him and into myself....
But I was too late.
I sensed that as his body began to quiver. As he began to stiffen and tighten. Then he lost all control. He began to beat against me as if punishing me for something. As if I were the last obstacle to him before he was swept over into the wild whirlpool of complete satisfaction. There was no holding him back ... he was too strong for me. Too far gone ... too intense on what was happening to him....
And so I fell back on my back, the sobs thick and heavy in my throat. I lay quietly, unable to move under him-not wanting to move-an occasional shudder cascading across my arms and shoulders as the passion and the delight gradually subsided and died. I opened my eyes and stared into his contorted face. I knew what was happening to him, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to help make it happen. I wasn't going to do anything to increase the delights or the pleasures....
Do it yourself-enjoy yourself. You're-you're like an animal! Nothing else matters but your own satisfaction. So go ahead, animal ... satisfy yourself...!
And he did.
With one final shudder of delight, completion came to him. His entire being tensed and tightened and a scream seemed to tear from his throat and I hated him because of what was happening to him. Hated him because I wanted it to happen to me. Just as it was happening to him....
But it didn't happen to me.
He was done. Finished. Drained and limp, he fell across me, his tired torso sucking in deep breaths of air. I tried to scrunch my body into a small body so that he couldn't touch me because I was so repulsed by what was happening to him. But he was too heavy for me and so I couldn't escape. He lay sprawled across my breasts, the heavy breathing pounding in my car.
I wanted to throw up.
A few moments later he was recovered sufficiently enough to wearily lift his face and smile down at me.
"That-that was great!" he said with tired enthusiasm. "Just great!"
I didn't answer, I merely smiled at him. As if I were happy for his feelings....
He misunderstood. As he had misunderstood so many times in the past. It seemed to me that for the past five years our life was a series of misunderstandings. Especially when it came to love-making....
"Satisfied?" he asked huskily. "You must have enjoyed it like I did!"
He didn't wait for my response. Apparently he misinterpreted his own for mine. That if he could feel so good, then so should I. Then, without another word, he wearily pushed his way from my body and eased his legs over the edge of the bed. I was grateful for that-grateful that he no longer was touching me.
With a deep sigh, he got up and walked slowly toward the bathroom. I watched him go, my face stone-like in its anger. It wasn't until I heard the sound of the shower that I got up from the bed. My body felt corroded as I went over to the closet and slowly picked out a pair of pajamas. Putting them on, I went into the living room. Setting myself on the sofa, I reluctantly lit a cigarette and stared down at the carpet design while my mind chewed and digested the night's events....
"Fool," I muttered softly to myself. "Stupid fool. Feeling guilty. Feeling sorry for him. Thinking that things would be different if you made them different. If you took care of him as he always wanted you to. Don't you know that things will never be different between you! That it will always be the same no matter what you do or how you act! He's not interested in how you feel or what happens to you and the sooner you realize that the better off you'll be!"
Angrily I ground out the cigarette and then rocked back in the sofa, folding my arms under my breasts. They still ached with desire and throbbed with passion, but there was nothing I could do about it-nothing, except continue to suffer with my own need and hunger....
Then the solution hit me. Then I knew what I could do to ease the torment within my aching body....
"And I won't feel so guilty the next time," I said aloud. "Next time I'll worry about myself. I have to, nobody else around here is going to do it. But I won't let it bother me. I won't let myself feel guilty about it!"
"Wont feel guilty about what, Honey?" Bill asked from the doorway to the bedroom, rubbing his wet hair with a large turkish towel.
I looked up at him, noting the satisfied expression on his face. Noting the lack of awareness that anything was still wrong between us. How could it be, I knew he was thinking ... how could it be when we just made love? When I was the one who initiated it ... no, there was nothing wrong anymore. No, all was right with the world again. At least with Bill's small world....
"Nothing," I answered with bored indifference. Just thinking aloud, that's all."
He came into the room, stopping in front of me. He stared at me quizzically, as if suspicious of my answer. "What are you thinking about?" he then asked in a low voice.
I shook my head and laughed. "Can't a wife nave any secrets from her husband?" I quipped with, forced animation. "I was just-just thinking about that movie Laura and I went to, that's all."
I don't know what made me say that. May: be it was because of the delight I took in lying to him.
He continued to study me. "Is everything alright?" he finally asked. "Are you sure that everything's okay?"
"Oh yes," I answered quickly and eagerly. "Everything's alright. As a matter-of-fact, everything's just perfect!"
And this time I wasn't lying. This time I was telling the truth. At that moment, though I didn't know exactly how it was going to happen, I suddenly knew that everything was going to be alright. I suddenly knew that Phil Anderson was going to make it alright....
CHAPTER SIX
I heard the knock on the door and knew immediately that it was Laura. It was midmorning and I had already finished most of the morning chores-working harder than normal in an effort not to have to think about what had happened the night before. Not to have to think about the party or the fiasco in bed with Bill. I knew I was only hiding from what I was afraid to face, but I didn't care. I was too confused to do anything but be afraid....
"Hi Laura," I said weakly with a smile as I opened the door for her.
"Hi," she answered happily, following me into the house, "what's the matter, something bothering you?"
I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. But Laura wouldn't let it drop. She looked at me as she seated herself in the dinette, studying me carefully while I poured the two cups of coffee. It wasn't until I had seated myself opposite her that she spoke.
"What's wrong-feeling guilty about going to that party last night?" she asked carefully.
I shook my head. "I was at first, but not any longer."
I watched the understanding blossom in her face. One thing about Laura, she caught on quickly. "Oh, something happen between you and Bill?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"You don't have to," she answered, "I can imagine the gory details without you telling me about them. You came home, feeling full of guilt, and decided to make it all up to Bill. You probably took off all your clothes-prepared yourself to do whatever he wanted, and then...."
"Don't" I interrupted sharply. "I don't want to hear anymore!"
She reached across the table and patted my hand. "Okay, Teri, I understand ... really I do."
"How could you?" I said miserably. "How could you possibly understand?"
"Because I went through the same thing you did the first time I went out without Don," he answered quickly. "Tried the same tactics you did to help me feel less guilty."
"And
"And it didn't work for me either. And don't try and tell me it worked for you."
I shook my head. "No, it didn't work. II made me feel worse than before. Like-like I was a fool for even trying."
"And is that why you feel so sad?" she then questioned, a serious expression on her face
"I suppose so, Laurie," I answered. "I-I really don't know why I feel this way. But I feel miserable ... like I was wasting my whole life ... like it was running away from me and there was nothing I can do about it. Do you understand what I mean?"
She nodded quickly and then once more reached over and patted my hand. "Well, cheer up, honey, things are looking up."
"Looking up? What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.
"Looks like you're not going to die of boredom after all. You made quite a hit at that party last night."
"I did!" I said in disbelief. "What do you mean?"
"Just that-I've had several telephone :alls this morning telling me to be sure and bring you along the next time we all get together."
That was good for my ego and so I smiled.
"One call in particular should interest you," she then added mysteriously.
I stiffened and tensed. She didn't have to tell me anymore about it-I knew who the call was from....
"Aren't you interested?" she then asked.
I couldn't lie. I was interested. There was no doubt in mind how interested I really was From Phil Anderson?" I asked carefully trying not to show my true interest.
"Yup," she answered quickly. "I told you if he's interested, he doesn't give up."
"What did he want?"
"Well, since he didn't get your phone number-or even your last name-he didn't know how to get in touch with you."
"Why should he want to get in touch with me?' I asked with pretended innocence.
"He invited both of us out to his beach house for a day's swimming," she answered, waiting to see my reaction.
"Beach house?"
"Oh yes, he's got the coolest beach house ... right on the water. Just beautiful. You'd really love it."
"Just the two of us?" I asked hesitantly.
She shook her head and the brown curls bounced gaily on her forehead. "Oh no, there'll be somebody else there. I went out with him a couple of times. Guy named Stan
-nice fella."
I looked at her suspiciously, wondering if she had ever gone to bed with the fella named Stan. She shook her head as she read my thoughts. "Nope-nothing like that between Stan and me. We're just good friends ... like each other's company. But that's all told you yesterday, I choose the men I make love with. Nobody can seduce me unless I want to be seduced."
"And you don't feel that about this-Stan?"
She shook her head and smiled. "I like aim but not well enough to go to bed with Slim. He's good for laughs and I like to be with him ... that's all."
I believed her. Why shouldn't I, she had no reason to lie to me. She had nothing to hide. Not after what I had seen last night. No she was telling me the truth....
"How about it?' she asked again, snapping me out of my reverie. "Do you want to go? It'll be fun ... we can get in some swimming-enjoy the fun-and we can be back in time to make dinner for our ever-lovin' husbands without either of them being the wiser."
"But what about the kids?" I then asked listening with half an ear to the noise from the nursery. "Who's going to take care of them?"
She answered quickly-as if she had figured that out in advance. "We'll split the baby sitter's fee. Bring your kids over to my house and then there won't be any problems about it. We won't be gone that long-just a couple of hours. Now, what do you say...?"
I thought about it. I started to turn her down-the risk was suddenly too great. But then I remembered what had happened last night in bed. Remembered the vow I had taken. No, I wasn't going to feel guilty about anything from now on ... I wasn't going to pretend that my marriage was okay when it wasn't. And I wasn't going to waste the rest of my life trying to find contentment and happiness and excitement when there wasn't any to find within the confines of my marriage. No, if I wanted that I'd have to find them elsewhere....
"Okay," I answered, still not able to look into Laura's face, "I'll go with you."
"Good!" she said enthusiastically as she stood up in the dinette and pushed the coffee cup away from her. "I'll make all the arrangements-just get your kids over to my house in about an hour. Okay? That give you enough time to get ready?"
"Fine," I answered with pretended casualness, sipping nonchalantly at the remains of my coffee. "I'll be ready...."
I watched her move out of the kitchen and heard the back door close behind her. It wasn't until then that I began to relax. Or tried to relax. The pretended casualness was just that-pretended. And the nonchalance was also a sham ... at that moment I felt anything but nonchalant. How could I feel those things knowing what I was about to do. Know that I was getting in deeper and deeper.
And also knowing that I was going to see Phil Anderson again.
And not knowing what was going to happen when I did see him.
Only imagining what was going to happen....
CHAPTER SEVEN
The beach house was everything that Laura said it was. Casually elegant. On stilts over the ocean, it seemed like a glass dollhouse as I sat on the cushioned window seat and looked out over the surging water. And as I sat there, aware of the luxuriousness of my surroundings, I couldn't help but compare it to the small tract house that I was forced to call home ... and wonder if my life would ever change. If I would ever know the feelings of being wealthy....
Laura sat across from me on a modern sofa, Stan at her side. They were laughing at something he had been telling her and I could see what she meant by liking him but not enough to go to bed with.
Stan was one of those anything-for-a-laugh fellas. Wonderful sense of humor-could make a joke out of anything-but that was his only real attraction. He wasn't goo-looking ... and he didn't care too much about the way he dressed-and he didn't appear to have too much money. In short, he was just another guy-another average fella in a world filled with average men. But Laura liked him-he was fun to be with, and there was nothing wrong with that....
Phil Anderson was another story.
Too handsome and too rich and too confident. He had that certain casualness that only the wealthy have-and he wore it comfortably. And because of his attitude, I was uncomfortable....
Or maybe it was the way he treated me.
I didn't know what to expect as we walked up the steps to the house-or what to say to him as we shook hands. And I was forced to look away with the sudden memory that these same hands had caressed and aroused my breasts....
And I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as he looked down at me with that strange smile on his full lips.
Then he seemed to forget all about me as he busied himself with being the perfect host....
"Drink, Teri? You take Vodka and ginger ale, don't you?"
"No thanks, I answered with a quick shake of my head. "I'm not drinking today."
He looked at me and and grinned and I turned away self-consciously. It was as if we both know the reason for my not drinking-the last time I had forgotten too many things-like what I was doing necking on a sofa with a man I had just met; But that wasn't going to happen this time ... not if I had anything to say about it....
He continued being the perfect host, pointing out the sights through the picture window and keeping the others' drinks filled. Though he sat next to me, it was as if a wall were between us. A wall both of us were afraid to knock down. A wall that neither of us knew how to knock down....
"Hey," I said across the room to Laura, "I thought we were invited out here for swimming? What gives?"
She looked at me and then questioningly at Phil. He answered for her. "Good idea-nothing's happening here anyway ... let's all go swimming!"
We all stood up and I joined Laura in a walk toward one of the back rooms. It was a bedroom and from the way she made herself at home, it was obvious that she had been here before. And was no stranger to any of the rooms....
We undressed quickly and I slipped into my bathing suit, tucking my breasts into the top of the tight-fitting halter. It wasn't until I was completely dressed that I dared to look at Laura on the other side of the room. I couldn't believe what I was seeing....
I've seen girls in bikinis before, but never in a suit that revealed as much as hers did. It was as if she had a tiny strip of cloth around her breasts and another one around her thighs. She didn't leave much to the imagination the way she was dressed and I guess the surprise showed on my face when she saw me watching her....
"Like it?" she asked as he pirouetted in front of me. "The latest style."
I suppose it was. I looked down at my own suit and suddenly I felt self-conscious about it. It seemed so old-fashioned-so completely covering. Like I was ashamed of my body or something....
Laura must have sensed my discomfort for she reached into her beach bag and took out another bathing suit. "Here," she said, tossing it at me, "use this one. I brought it along just in case I wanted to change into a dry suit later on, but you can wear it."
I held it up in front of me, aware of how little it really covered. "Oh, I couldn't," I then protested, not knowing if I was protesting out of modesty or because I really didn't want to take her suit.
"Go ahead," she insisted. "You'll only feel out of place in that suit you've got."
She was right. Of course she was right. And so, without further ado, I put on her bikini. She whistled as I walked over to the full-length mirror on the closet and studied myself. If anything, because I was a little bigger than Laura-especially in the breasts-the suit revealed ever more of my body than it did of hers. So much so, that for a long moment I hesitated about wearing it....
"Oh, come on," she said, aware of my reluctance, "let's not make a federal case out of it. Besides, I'm sure that the boys have seen naked women before. I know for sure that Phil has: So don't look that way-just think of it as a bathing suit and it won't embarrass you."
Then, before I could change my mind, she opened the door and walked out of the bedroom. Not wanting to be alone, I ran after her, feeling the jiggle and jounce of my breasts as I ran. I slowed to an immediate walk at the sight of Phil watching me from the sofa. It was enough that he could see as much of me as he could without my adding to the scene. He smiled and then pretended to be occupied with something down on the beach. Grateful to him for his understanding of my embarrassment, I realized that the safest place for me was in the water ... at least that way I could stay covered....
I went to the door that opened onto the wooden stairs that lead down to the beach. "I don't care about the rest of you," I said over my shoulder as I went down the steps, "but I came here to go swimming-and that's exactly what I'm going to do!"
I raced ahead of them, aware of the sounds of their yelling behind me as I ran across the sand toward the surf. Without testing how cold it was, I plunged in, shivering in excitement as the frigid water closed about my body.
When I came up to the surface I could see the others behind me, cavorting in the surf, splashing and teasing each other. I watched them for a few moments and then smiled happily as Phil detached himself from the others and swam lazily toward :me.
"Race you," he said excitedly a she came up to me. "Out there." He pointed away from the shoreline and I nodded eagerly. Then I dove into the next wave, cutting through it before it could break, and started to swim.
It was a genuine race. I don't know, but something inside me made me want to beat him to the edge of the breakers. Of course I couldn't, he was too good a swimmer for me, but something made me keep trying. It was as if I were trying to prove something to him ... or to myself....
He kept just ahead of me, smiling encouragement over his shoulder whenever he'd look back. And I kept after him-now gaining a little, now losing a little. But I knew that he was letting me gain whenever he wanted to-my swimming ability had nothing to do with it. I like that-I liked a man who had so much confidence in his own abilities....
Then I saw the expression on his face change the last time he looked back at me. He seemed to stop swimming then, and suddenly he turned and dove deep under me. I treaded water, not knowing what was happening. I couldn't think of anything but danger ... had he suffered a cramp-or seen a shark ... what had happened ... I got my answer when he popped to the surface behind me, a wide grin on his face. Then he lifted his arm aloft and I understood what had happened. I had my answer . .
He was clutching the top to my bikini like it was a pennant or something!
I looked down at my bare breasts, noting the beads of water on the nipples, and then quickly covered them with my arms. Treading water with my feet, I looked up at the splashing sound of Phil approaching.
He kept up to me, shaking the water out of his face with a toss of his head. He stared at me and laughed gaily at my obvious embarrassment. Then he offered the halter top to me....
"Here," he said, "put this on-I promise not to look."
I stared at him, aware of the dare in his tone. He was testing me, seeing what I would do. Seeing how I would handle the situation. And suddenly the embarrassment left me. Suddenly I no longer cared....
My hands dropped away from my breasts and I bared the baked flesh at him without saying a word. Let him see my nakedness ... let him see everything....
We stood treading water, eyeing each other. Then he dropped the bra between us and we both watched the current tug it back toward he beach. We watched as if hypnotized, as if we couldn't take our eyes from the flimsy bit of cloth....
And then he looked at me again. His eyes walking over my nakedness with obvious desire. Without a word, he swam closer to me and I watched him-unable to resist the feelings that were suddenly overwhelming me. He took me in his arms and his mouth seared against mine. Slowly we sank beneath the surface, our lips locked together as if afraid to let go. Even though I was soon gasping for breath, I could sense the rise of sensations throughout my body. The entire situation was too much to endure-too exciting-too thrilling....
Unable to stay under the water, we surfaced like two seals, tearing our mouths apart by the effort. With a hungry cry we fell back into each other's arms and once again our lips found one another. I sensed the thrusting probe of his tongue and answered him in kind. Our bodies glued together and I could feel the delight as my naked breasts flowed against his bare chest. The nipples erupted quickly and I moaned, his mouth smothering the sound of passion.
It was then that his hands were on me. Roaming and caressing and touching my nakedness. My breasts responded quickly to his touch as he cupped them in the palms of his hands and then his fingers were exploring and probing and exciting....
My whole being seemed to shudder as I became aware of the stealth of his hands down my torso. I could feel his fingers on the cloth of the rest of the bikini and I drew away from him and stared hungrily into his face....
"I want you," he murmured, reaching for me eagerly. I let him touch me again, feeling my own desires match his....
"No," I whispered hoarsely. "No." .
He looked at me as if he wasn't sure of what he had heard. Then as if in defiance to what I was saying, he deliberately tore the rest of the bathing suit from my body. Completely naked, I continued to tread water with tiring feet. But he had been aware of my lack of resistance when he had stripped the last bit of material from my body....
"I thought you didn't want to," he whispered, his face next to mine and our bodies annealed together.
I rubbed against him, closing my eyes with the delight of the pleasure that it gave me. "No," I repeated. Then I finished the words for him. "No, not here."
He smiled with understanding. "The house?"
I nodded, continuing to press myself against him. His hands on my back kept me locked to him and I laced my legs around his waist to keep myself afloat. "The house," I agreed. "The bedroom."
Then we began to swim to the shore. There was no hurry in our efforts-we didn't have to hurry. We both knew what was going to happen and because we both wanted it to happen, there was no reason for us to hurry. The desire wasn't going to die down. The passion wasn't' going to disappear. It would remain with us. Remain until we were both satisfied and satiated. And for the time being, I was content to wallow in the luxurious knowledge of what was going to happen....
And that's why we swam lazily toward the shore. Close to each other. Occassionally touching. And always smiling at each other. We both knew. We both were sure. And we both enjoyed.
I wanted it to go on and on. The feeling. It was a feeling that I hadn't known for a long , long time. This feeling of certainty. Of sureness. That I was going to enjoy what was going to happen. That it was going to be alright. More than alright. Perfect. Everything that it should be. Everything that it hadn't been for so many years....
And then, because I knew that, I suddenly began to hurry. To swim faster. Now I could no longer wait. The need was too intense. Too great. I needed him. Now. Immediately.
My knees scraped against the bottom in the shallow water and then I was pulling myself to my feet and hurrying out of the water. I heard him panting behind me, as we raced up the beach. I knew I was naked-completely bare-but I didn't care about that. I only cared about getting into that house as quickly as possible. Into that bedroom.
With Phil Anderson.
He slammed the door shut behind us as I fell across the bed on my stomach....
CHAPTER EIGHT
I cringed at the touch of his hands on my naked buttocks. My muscles clenched and unclenched because of the sensations and I sucked in a breath as if seeking escape from the delights that were already coursing through my body.
Then I turned my head, and resting it on my arms, I looked at him. He was sitting at my side, naked, his fingers stroking the flesh of my back and buttocks. And from the expression on his face, it was obvious he was enjoying what he was doing-and that he was completely engrossed in it....
And I enjoyed it, too.
I lay there on my stomach and let him toy with my body. Gradually, the tensions eased out of me. Gradually the tightness of apprehension disappeared. I enjoyed him enjoying me. I enjoyed what he was doing to me....
There was no haste in his movements. It was as if he had all the time in the world. As if all he wanted to do was to continue to stroke the back of my shoulders-my legs-my thighs-my buttocks. Nothing else seemed to matter ... it was as if those were the only parts of my body that existed to him....
And I was glad about that.
Glad because there was no lust in what he was doing. No animal-like savagery. He was just a man enjoying himself. And in the process, pleasing a woman very much.
The woman was me.
Shivers of excitement began to spread across my back and shoulders and I felt the wash of a rain of goose bumps splatter down my arms and legs. I think I whimpered then because of the delight of it-the sheer perfect delight....
And it was then that I felt his hands crawl under my torso. Not knowing what he was going to do, I tensed. He lifted up and then gently eased me over onto my back. I stared up into his face, surprised at the softness of his expression as he studied my entire torso....
"You're beautiful," he whispered. "Just beautiful."
I didn't know what to say. Bill never said much to me while we were making love. Certainly nothing like that. And so all I did was smile up at him, content in the knowledge of his pleasure. For his pleasure was giving me pleasure....
Tentatively, almost as if he were afraid that I might break into tiny pieces, he reached out and touched me. On my nipples.
"Ooohhh," I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed with the delight.
His fingers tightened around the hard flesh and I sucked in my breath because of the sharpness of the sensations. My back arched in response as he continued to tighten his finger-grip on me, and slowly the passion began to pound through me.
Then his hands closed about the flesh of my breasts. I whimpered and moaned because of the ecstasy of the feelings that were swirling through me, crying out when his lips seared moistly against my throbbing flesh....
Then, because I had to, my hands closed in his hair, forcing his face hard against me. I wanted more. Much more. The passion was purging me-cleansing me-knifing through me with its intensity ... and I didn't want it to stop. I never wanted it to stop. I wanted it to go on and on and on ... He made it go on and on and on. While he kissed me, his hands and fingers began to trail down the length of my torso. My body was his now-to do with whatever he wanted. Because I knew that to surrender to him, was to discover the joys of complete sensation and satisfaction....
And so I surrendered to him. Completely. There was no resistance-no reluctance-as I lay there on his bed and offered myself to him. I felt like the sacrificial virgin offering herself to the pagan god. That's how pure I felt....
Delight after delight were mine as his hands continued to roam and to explore and to discover. But soon I lost all control. Soon the touching and the probing and the caressing were too much for me. Soon the delights and the pleasures and the ecstacies were surging through me like a river that has overflowed its banks....
My body began to twist and to squirm as the sensations climbed higher and higher, flooding my entire being with their sharpness. I cried out again and again because of the pain of the pleasure and each sound only served to increase the intensity of his exploring hands and fingers. There wasn't a part of me that he didn't touch ... didn't caress. My breasts. My nipples. My flesh. My belly. My thighs. My hips. Everything....
And I loved it. Oh, how I loved it.
This man knew how to please-how to satisfy-a woman. Or at least he knew how to please and satisfy me. Maybe it was because I was so hungry-so desperate-I don't know. I only know I responded as I had never responded before. Compleely and wholeheartedly. Drinking my fill of the delights and the pleasures and letting the passion fill me up-overflow within me....
Finally I couldn't stand it any longer. The ache of the ecstasy was too much. I need more. Much more. I needed-needed completion. Satisfaction....
I reached for him and there was a quiver in my voice as I moaned, "Hurry-please hurry! I-I can't stand it anymore! I-I need you!"
Gently, he readied me. Prepared me. I felt the soft push of his hands and then my legs were spreading as if in open invitation. I was aware of his crouching between my legs and then slowly-ever so slowly-thrust forward....
I screamed and my eyes sank to the back of my head and my mouth fell open at the quick bite of delight that knifed through me. And then, as memory exploded within me, I suddenly stiffened and tensed....
This was where it alway happened. This was where disappointment was born. It was at this point that I suddenly became aware of how I was being used. Of how all of the buildup was for nothing. From this point on, it was all for Bill. This was where I suffered ... oh, how I suffered. And because I suffered, I suddenly became afraid....
Afraid, because I wondered if it was going to happen again. Wondered if I would be left empty and disconsolate-feeling as if my nerves were exposed.
And so I waited, and I suppose, resisted him.
But then I couldn't resist.
Then, I no longer wanted to resist.
The steady and incessant climb of pleasure never let up. The lunging thrust of him built me up ... up ... up.
Drew me closer and closer to the point of no return. And because I knew what was finally going to happen to me, I surrendered myself to the man who seemed to know exactly how to please and pleasure me....
There was no stopping him. Not even if I wanted to stop him. He drew me out as if I were a fine wire and then when I was tight and taught, he snapped the wire...!
I screamed at the sudden release, my arms thrusting full-length from my shoulders and my hands clawing at the sheets seeking release from the biting sting of the delight that flooded through me.
I felt myself going higher ... higher ... higher. And then, when I thought I had reached the apex of pleasure, I was aware of the final thrusting lunge against me and I clawed even further into oblivion.
And then all reality fell away from me and I was falling down ... down ... down.
I collapsed, biting at my lower lip so that a tiny trickle of scarlet oozed out of the corner of my mouth. My hair was plastered to my sweat-soaked forehead and my body was twisting and writhing under his as if seeking release from the pain of the pleasure.
Finally I opened my eyes and looked into his smiling face. I grinned up at him weakly, too limp to do anything else.
"More?" he said questioningly.
I nodded almost imperceptably, too exhausted to do more than that. Then the thought hit me and I looked at him wide-eyed....
"How-how about you?" I whispered.
He smiled that strange wonderful smile. "Don't worry about me," he answered in a comfortable voice. "Let's just worry about you. Let's just take care of you."
And he did take care of me.
Again.
And again.
And again.
So many times that there was no sense in even trying to remember how often. Finally, I was completely done. Too weak to move. Too satiated to enjoy. Too numb to feel the sensations and the delights. It was over. I had had enough....
I slept then. I had to sleep. My body, tired and spent, demanded it. And I couldn't resist. Gratefully, I fell into his arms, my face nuzzling into his shoulder, and let the sleep wash over me. I don't know how long I lay like that, but after what seemed hours, I finally awakened. His voice whispered in my ear and I smiled happily at the sound of it....
"How do you feel?"
How did I feel, I thought to myself. What a silly question. Can't he tell how I feel? I feel wonderful. Sensational. Alive and new again. Fresh. Reborn. And-and he did it. He was the one who made me feel like this....
My contented stretch of my arms over my head was his answer. I felt completely satisfied. This was the way I knew that you were supposed to feel after making love. This was the way Bill used to make me feel. This was the way I kept looking for Bill to make me feel again....
The feeling of satisfaction washed away at the thought of Bill. It wasn't because I felt guilty about making love with another man ... at least not yet, anyway ... it was because another man could make me feel like this and Bill couldn't. Or didn't. Or wouldn't. That's why I felt dissatisfied. And empty. Damn him anyway, why couldn't it be like this with him. Why did he chase me out of my house to find it....
"A penny for your thoughts?" I heard Phil say with a gay lilt in his voice.
I shook my head. "They aren't worth a penny."
He rolled over onto his stomach and cupping his chin in the palms of his hands, looked into my face. "Any guilts?" he asked in a low voice.
I pretended innocence. "Guilts? What about?"
"You're married, aren't you?"
"Yes, but what's that got to do with it?"
"I bet this is the first time you've ever made love with anybody but your husband."
"How can you tell?"
He smiled at me and took one of my hands in his. "By the way you did it. Like you were dying or something. Like it was all for you. And I suppose it was-that's why you didn't think of me ... of what was happening to me."
I stared at him. Those were the same words I had said to Bill. The same things I thought about him. Phil was practically telling me that I was using him-that's all!
"Don't worry about it," he said' with a laugh, "It's not that serious. That's the only reason married women go to bed with someone other than their husband-because they're sexually starved. Makes it easy for guys like me to make out."
Suddenly I was angry with him. "Make out! Is that all you thought of it?" I shouted angrily at him.
"Hold it, Teri," he answered quickly. "Let's not make something out of this that that isn't there. Let's face the facts. You went to bed with me for no other reason but that you were sexually starved. Don't try to tell me it was because you felt anything for me. That's impossible-we just met. So that had to be the reason."
"What about you?" I asked in a harsh voice, not ready to admit to the truth of what he was saying. "Why did you go to bed with me?"
"Because you're a woman who was made for love," he stated simply. "Everything about you-the way you're built ... everything. That's why."
I didn't know what to say so I said nothing. I merely lay at his side in his bed and thought about his words. Then I no longer cared if they were true or not. I only knew how good I felt. Hw good he had made me feel. And I wanted to continue feeling like that....
That's when I reached for him.
He watched what I was doing as if he weren't even involved. "Are you sure that's what you want to do?" he whispered.
I smiled at him-of course that's what I wanted to do-I wanted to show him that I wasn't just a taker-that I wanted to give as much as I got....
And so I gave to him.
With everything I had.
My hands. My fingers. My mouth. My lips. My tongue. Every part of me.
I did the things to him that Bill had always wanted me to do. That I had done only once before in my life. And this time I enjoyed doing it. This time I thrilled as much as the man I was thrilling....
There was no doubt to what was happening to him. He stiffened at the first touch. Then I felt the ripple of excitement shower across his body. He quivered as I continued to caress him and I saw him nibble on his lower lip as the sensations continued to flow....
"Like it?" I murmured to him.
"Love it," he whispered, closing his eyes.
I continued to thrill him, not really knowing how, but instinctively doing those things to him that I felt that if I were a man, I would like done to me.
And they worked. Oh, how they worked. I watched the excitement build and build. His face became flushed and his breathing quickened and shallowed. His hand were on my breasts and nipples-pushing and shaping and pulling-not because he was trying to do anything to me, but because he didn't know what to do with his hands-and occasionally I sensed the clenching and unclenching of his thigh muscles in response to the delights that were obviously wallowing him....
Then, he sank back to the bed, whimpering, "More ... do more."
I looked at him and smiled. Then I did more.
Remembering his words-that I had only been taking from him, and not giving-I relished what I was doing to him. Phil had been right-I had been a taker. But he didn't understand. I needed to do that. Needed, because I was so empty. Because my need was so great. But now I was no longer empty.
He had taken care of that. The need was fulfilled. He had done that, too. And so I could give back to him. And I did....
He whimpered and moaned as the pleasures pounded higher and higher?. He began to twist and writhe on the bed, as if seeking escape from the torment of sensation that was threatening to rip him apart ... but I wouldn't let him escape. For I knew what was happening to him-that the apparent suffering was in reality his reaction to the highest of pleasure-that the uncontrollable motions and reactions of his body were only due to the torment of sensation and delight that now controlled him. I knew he was enjoying-was thrilling. And because he enjoyed-he thrilled ... so did I.
I enjoyed giving to this man. Making him happy as he had made me happy. Content. Fulfilled. I looked up into his contorted face and knew that it was only a matter of moments before completion came ... He couldn't stand it much longer....
Suddenly he reached for me, whimpering, 'No! No! Not like that!"
I didn't understand. But I didn't have to understand. His hands under my arms were pulling me to a stradling position over him. It was then that I understood. I smiled happily because of it and feeling his hand lifting under my buttocks, surrendered to whatever was going to happen....
He screamed with the pain of the pleasure ... with the stick of the sensation as I lunged against him. Deep ... deep ... deeper....
Oh, it was good. Thrilling. I had never done this before ... not this way ... in it was exciting just thinking about it. But doing it was even more exciting ... more wonderful.
I turned and twisted, knowing that every movement offered more and more delights to him. My body was aflame, but his was already consumed by the heat of our passion. His eyes were locked closed and his fingers were digging into the sheets at his side as the flame swept over him ... consuming him.
Then I felt him suddenly stiffen-his whole body rigided as if frozen-and I knew what was about to happen. In my frenzy because of it, I gyrated and moved even harder against him-thrusting ... thrusting ... Yes, I knew what was going to happen....
And it happened.
With one mighty swell, the passion and the pleasure exploded within him. He groaned and then blindly seemed to grope for me. I held him then, comforting him as his nerve-endings ripped apart....
And then gently, I lowered him back to the bed, smiling down at the still-contorted face-the still-stiffened torso....
Finally he relaxed under me. His eyes opened and a gentle smile washed over his face. He looked at me, licking his dry lips and then nodded with approval....
"You're good," he whispered. "Very good!"
I was proud of his words. Proud that he had approved. A woman needs that. Needs to know that she is as much a lover as the man. At least I needed to know. For too long I had been suffering under the ordeal of an incomplete and unsatisfactory love-life. For so long that there were times that I even doubted myself ... doubted my abilities. There were times when I would think to myself that maybe it wasn't Bill's fault ... that maybe my feelings of incompleteness-unfulfillment-were due to my own inadequacies. That Bill had nothing to do with it. He was just being Bill ... that it was all my fault. That I wasn't enough of a woman....
But now I knew that wasn't so. The expression on the face of the man under me told me that. His words told me that. I was good ... he had just said so ... and so I smiled happily....
I had just rolled off him when Laura came bursting into the room. She pulled up short at the sight of the two of us, her hands going to her mouth in surprise. But I wasn't embarrassed-somehow the fact that she had walked in on us at this moment didn't embarass me-it embarrassed her far more than it did me. And so I understood her reactions of the other night when I had walked in on her....
"What is it, Laura?" I said sweetly, getting comfortable in the crook of Phil's arm. As if in defiance, I lifted his hand and placed it over my breasts. I don't know why I did that-maybe I was proving something to myself ... to Laura ... or maybe I just wanted the sensation of his hand on my body....
She shook her head at the sight of us and it was then that she remembered why she had barged into the room. A look of fright and terror bathed her face in an eerie dark glow.
"We're late! Oh, Teri-we're late!"
"Late?" I said questioningly, sitting up. "What are you talking about?"
"It's almost six o'clock-by the time we get home it'll be seven. Don and Bill will be home! C'mon, we've got to go! NOW!"
The fright and the horror bridged from her to me. Oh God, where had the time gone? I had become so lost in the delight of the afternoon that I had forgotten all about the time...!
I threw myself out of the bed and quickly dressed. Occasionally I'd glance at Phil, smiling nervously, but his face was set in stone as if he were condemning me for something. I knew what he was thinking-a wife forgetting about her children-her home-her husband-and all for the sake of an afternoon of lovemaking. Well, the hell with him! He'd had as much pleasure as I, didn't he? What right did he have to judge me...?
I don't even remember saying goodbye to him and I know that he didn't even bother to get out of the bed to see me off. Then all thoughts of Phil Anderson were forgotten as Laura expertly wheeled the car through the homeward-bound traffic. He was forgotten because my mind didn't have room to think about him. The only thing I could think about was Bill ... and what he would say and do when I got home....
And I was scared.
Because he had the right to do whatever he wanted to do....
CHAPTER NINE
But he didn't do anything.
I came running into the house, pulling up short at the sight of him rolling down his sleeves as he came out of the children's room.
"The kids! Are they okay?" I yelled at him, my hands going to my throat in horror because of my imagniation.
He nodded slowly and then walked into the kitchen. I followed him nervously, waiting for him to say something. But all he did was to casually make himself a drink.
"Want one?" he asked in a pleasant voice, holding up an empty glass.
"No!" I said in a too-loud voice. "Is-is everything alright?"
"Of course it is," he answered matter-of-factly. "Why shouldn't it be?"
I didn't know what to say. He was too calm-too pleasant. I waited for the storm of his anger to break, my body tensing in anticipation.
"Of course everything's alright," he went on nonchlantly, strolling back into the living room and seating himself with his drink on the sofa. "I came home and found the house empty-figured you were all next door with Laura. Kind of surprised to find Don taking care of Our Kids though. Sure was relieved to discover that there had been a baby sitter. Then I brought them home-fed them-played them-gave them a bath and then put them to bed. So why should anything be wrong?"
I looked at him, waiting for him to ask me where I had been-why I had left the children-how come I hadn't come home. Looked at him and waited. And waited. And waited.
But he said nothing. Merely sat on the sofa, sipping his drink and apparently relaxing from the strains of the day.
What was wrong with him! Didn't he care? Why was he making me suffer like this?
Then I understood what he was doing, he was deliberately doing it so that I would suffer. Deliberately avoiding any discussion so that the nervous waiting would make me suffer. Well, I'd show him ... I'd show him!
"I went to the beach," I said in a small voice.
"Oh?" he answered indifferently, picking up the newspaper from the coffee table.
"Went swimming," I then said lamely.
"That's nice,' 'he answered a she turned to the sporting section. That's what he always did first-turn to the sporting section. "Did you have fun?" he then asked, looking up from the paper.
I slumped into the chair opposite him without answering. I was too angry to answer. Too angry because I felt he was deliberately avoiding questioning me. I didn't know why I thought I did, but now I was no longer sure. And so I sat there, opposite him, squirming on the chair, the tension building within me, and waiting-waiting-waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he didn't do anything. He merely sat quietly, sipping his drink and losing himself in the world of sports....
Finally I couldn't stand it any longer. Finally I couldn't take the pressure. The not knowing how he really felt....
"Aren't you going to say something?" I asked tensely from across the room.
Slowly and deliberately he put down the newspaper and looked at me. "Say anything?" What do you mean?"
I bit at my lip in anger. Why did he have to do this to me! Why couldn't he come right out with it like a man!
"I mean about-about my leaving the kids the way I did. Not being here when you came home from work. Your having to feed and bathe the kids. Not having dinner for you. Aren't you angry? Aren't you going to ask me about it-question me?"
He continued to look at me. It was as if he were looking for something that he hoped to find written on my face. He shook his head when he didn't find it. "No," he finally said with a sigh, "I'm not angry. And I don't think there's anything to talk about."
"You don't!" I shouted in disbelief. What was I feeling so guilty about...?
"Of course not," he answered matter-of-factly. "You were hot and tired. Needed to get away from the kids for the day. From the routine of taking care of the house. And you forgot all about the time. So I don't see anything to talk about. I know exactly how you feel-sometimes I feel like doing it myself. That's why there's nothing to question you about. You went to the beach with Laura-you had a good time-went swimming-good. I'm glad you did. You need to get away once in a while."
And then, as if his words had put the lid to our conversation, he once more picked up the newspaper and began reading it. It was as if there were nothing else to discuss. As if the subject was closed....
But not to me.
Maybe I wanted him to yell at me. To bawl me out. To get angry. I don't know. I only know that I couldn't drop the subject. My eyes screwed closed in my desperation and in my anger and my hands were clenching and unclenching in my lap because of my frustration. I remembered reading about masochism someplace ... maybe that's why I couldn't let go of the subject ... I was a masochist ... I wanted to be punished ... to be hurt....
"Are you sure that's all there is to it, Bill?" I asked quietly, in a low and deadly tone.
He sighed with apparent exasperation as he once more dropped the newspaper and turned to look at me. The meaning behind my words was clear and implicit-the innuendo was obvious....
"I'm sure," he said slowly.
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because I trust you, that's why. And because I trust you, I don't even have to think about it. That's why I'm not angry. Because I trust you. Now that ends it, Teri ... I don't want to talk about it anymore. As a matter-of-fact, I'm going into the kitchen and get myself something to eat. Then I'm going to bed. Want me to make you something?"
He pushed his way out of the sofa, the newspaper dropping to the floor at his feet, and came over to me. I looked up at him and slowly shook my head. "No thanks," I murmured, "I'm not hungry."
He shook his head as if he could care less and then walked into the kitchen. I sat as before, stiff and still, and listened to the sounds of his making something to eat. The opening and slamming of the refrigerator door. The clatter of dishes. The noise of silverware being taken out of a drawer. The gurgle of milk being poured into a glass. And then the scrape of a chair as he sat down at the table and began to eat....
And all the while, all I could do was to sit in that straight-backed chair, stiff and still. Punishing myself. Punishing myself, because Bill wouldn't do it....
He trusted me, he had said. He believed in me. I would never do anything to make him ashamed of me.
But I had.
I had spent the afternoon in bed with another man. Making love.
And because I knew the lie I was living, I suffered. My body seemed wracked with the agony of the truth. I couldn't escape....
Poor Bill, I thought to myself as I listened to the sounds from the kitchen. Poor, innocent, believing Bill. So fine. So good. So understanding. Oh, why did I do it! Why did I do it!
I couldn't answer that-I really couldn't. And because I couldn't, the agony intensified. The hurt magnified. The guilt became so overwhelmingly in my throat that I wanted to gag on it.
I've got to make it up to him. Someway, I've got to make it all up to him. But how? How?
The answer came as I heard him pick up the dishes and rinse them out in the sink. I was sure of it when he came back into the living room and said, "I'm going to bed now, Teri-I'm awfully tired. You can stay up and watch television if you want. 'Night, Honey." Then he leaned down and brushed a kiss on my cheek....
My fingers touched my cheek where he had kissed me while I watched him walk from the living room toward the bedroom. He closed the door softly and I continued to trace the imprint of his kiss....
And I knew what I had to do.
It had worked before. Last night. At least or him, it had. And that's all I was interested n-for Bill. Giving to Bill. He deserved it. . didn't care about my own pleasure-it .vas his night tonight, all his. Let him take as much as he wanted. Let him fill himself up. What happened to me, didn't matter. Not tonight anyway. Tonight would be all for him....
So what if I was trying to cover up my guilt? I knew that, but I didn't care. He had trusted me-and I had lied. It was the only way I knew of undoing the lie. Of making everything alright between us. Not that he thought anything was wrong-and that's what made it even worse. I knew the truth. I knew what I had done. I knew where I had been. If I could cut out that part of my memory, I would gladly do it. But I couldn't-it would always be with me-the time I had been unfaithful. And so all I could do now was try and make up for it. In the only way I knew how....
I continued to sit there thinking about it. It was like I was caught on flypaper-I couldn't let go. And I didn't want to let go I wanted to fill myself up with it so I would never forget my feelings at this moment. So that the memory of how close I had come to ruining my marriage would always be with me. For I made a vow then-that I would never, no never, do it again. I would never go outside my own home seeking the answers to my problems. I would never turn to another man for fulfillment. Not when I had a man like Bill. Somehow in someway I would find the solution. And, as I continued to sit in the chair, I knew that I didn't have the solution just yet. But I would find it ... somehow in someway, I would find it....
But now was the time to give to Bill.
Slowly I got out of the chair and went to our bedroom. Opening the door carefully and quietly so as not to disturb him, I went into the room. I listened to the sound of his breathing and, as I closed the door behind me, I knew that he was still awake. I could feel his eyes on me as I undressed and I was glad. I knew how Bill loved to look at my naked body
-knew the thrill the sight of my bare flesh
-my breasts-my nipples-my buttocks
-my hips-my thighs-everything-gave him ... and s I was glad....
Once again I debated what to wear to bed and once again I decided to wear nothing. It would be better that way. Much better. He couldn't doubt what I had in mind ... what I wanted ... what I was offering him....
I slid under the sheets, feeling his body stiffen as I moved to my side of the bed. We were both on our backs, each of us staring at the ceiling and each of us deep in our own thoughts. I don't know what Bill was thinking
-I couldn't really be sure. But I knew what I was thinking. That I was sure of....
I was waiting for him to touch my naked breasts.
I lay at his side, expectant and eager, my hands next to my body, my nipples already hardened because of the anticipation of what was going to happen.
But it didn't happen.
We just lay there, each on our own side of the bed as if we were alone....
Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to edge toward him. He couldn't doubt my desire now. Couldn't misinterpret it. Then our hips were touching-our bodies were side by side.
But he still didn't touch me.
Go ahead! Go ahead and touch me! I want you to touch me. It's all for you-what-what ever you want-it's all for you, Bill ... everything....
I pressed even closer to him, feeling the material of his pajamas against the nakedness of my side. And still he did nothing. I couldn't stand it any longer-I had built myself up into such a nervous state of desire that I couldn't stand it ... Now, I needed him to touch me. Now it was for me as well as for him....
The realization came that he might need help. Might need the suggestion of what lay ahead. Bill was always shy when it came to sex, maybe his shyness had taken control of him. Sure, that was it. He wanted to, but he couldn't make himself do it....
That was alright, I would do it for him.
And I did it.
I reached over with one hand and picked up his hand and then placed it on my bare breasts. With my free hand, I then reached down the long length of his body and touched him....
Now that it had happened, now that I had tone it, I let out a long sigh-like breath. Soon it would begin. Soon everything would be alright....
But it got worse.
Slowly he withdrew his hand from my breasts and then took my hand away from him. I felt the ice of rejection freeze me into rigidity....
"What's-what's wrong?" I whispered, my mind racing to find the answer to what I had done that might have upset him. Had I been too bold? Too brazen?
"Not tonight," I heard him say in a voice that sounded far off.
"But-but I-I want you, Bill," I whimpered. "I-I want to make love."
"No," he answered with determination. "Not tonight. I'm too tired."
Then as if to prove his statement, I felt him turn away from me, rolling over onto his side so that his back was to me. I lay as before ... on my back ... my body feeling as if it belonged to someone else. I had been rejected...! He didn't want me!
For the first time in our marriage, Bill had refused me. I couldn't believe it! And I knew that it wasn't because he was tired-that was just an excuse-something to make it more palatable. But it wasn't the truth....
The truth was that he just didn't want me!
I lay there in the darkness, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, my fists clenching and clenching in rejection at my side. Then gradually the rejection turned to frustration and the frustration turned to anger....
Soon the sound of his steady breathing filled the room. He was asleep. And that, coupled with his rejection of me, was the final straw, it meant so little to him, that he could fall asleep without giving it another thought...!
All of the determination-of the promises I had made to myself-washed away. I didn't care what kind of a man he was ... good, bad, or indifferent. That no longer mattered to me as I lay there, hurt and angry. I had offered myself to him and he had refused. I had wanted him and he had turned me down....
I got out of the bed, not really caring if I woke him up or not. Slipping into a bathrobe, I returned to the living room. I began to pace up and down, my face screwed into circles of concentration as I thought about what had happened....
"Okay," I said aloud, "if that's all I mean to him, then it doesn't matter. There are plenty of other men who want what I have to offer. Plenty. Trust me, do you? Well, let's see where that trust gets you! Besides, I don't really believe you trust me-I believe it was just your way of paying me back for what you think I did! Now you won't have to think about it-wonder-because now I'm really going to do it ... every chance I get...!"
CHAPTER TEN
The chance came three days later.
The phone rang just as I was getting out of the tub. It had been a hot day and the kids were more bother than usual and so in an effort to escape from everything, I had decided to take a hot leisurely bath. I was still toweling myself off when I heard the phone ring. Wrapping the towel around me as best I could, I hurried into the living room and picked up the instrument on the sixth ring....
"Hello?" I said breathlessly, "Who is this?"
"Hi, Teri," the gay familiar but still unfamiliar voice answered. "How are you?"
It was a man. And though I vaguely recognized his voice, I still couldn't quite place it.
"Who is this?" I repeated questioningly.
"Stan."
"Stan? I didn't know any Stan.
He seemed to sense the reluctance and hesitation in my voice. "Sure, you remember me-at Phil's beach house ... Stan ... I was with Laura."
I fell back across the arm of the chair as I remembered. Stan. Always-good-for-a-laugh-
Stan. Sure I remembered him
"How are you?" I asked. 'And how's-how's Phil?" I then asked hesitantly, as if afraid of giving away a secret. A secret that I knew he must know....
"Phil's out of town," he answered. "On business. As a matter-of-fact, I'm calling' from his apartment-he's letting me use it until he gets back."
"Apartment?" I said questioningly. "I didn't know he had an apartment."
"Oh yeah," he said nonchalantly. "Right here in town, too."
"What's he need an apartment for-with that beach house?"
I could almost see his shrug through the phone. "Don't ask me, Teri-who knows how rich guys spend their money. He's also got a boat someplace-and a cabin up in the mountains. Yeah, he really lives...."
I crossed my legs and stared at my ankles, wondering how they looked to a man. Then I stiffened as a realization came to me.
"How'd you get my number?" I asked with pretended casualness.
"Laura told me your last name and I looked it up in the phone book," he answered quickly.
"Oh," I responded. That made sense. Then another realization dawned on me. "How come you're calling me?"
"Just to see how you are?" he answered and from the tone of his voice, I knew he was lying.
"I'm fine," I answered. Then I paused and waited for his response. It was bound to come, I knew that-but I didn't expect it as soon as it did....
"Teri," he began with a hesitant drawl....
"Yes...?"
"What-what are you doing today?"
"Not much," I answered in what I hoped was an indifferent tone. "Just laying around the house right now. Why do you ask?"
This time there was no hesitation. This time he got the words out quickly. As if he had to while he still had the nerve....
"How'd you like to come over here ... to Phil's apartment ... for a couple of hours?"
"Why?" I asked, smiling to myself. "What'll we do over there that I can't do over here?"
"Well," the hesitancy came back into his face, "it takes two to do what I have in mind."
"Just what is it that you have in mind. Stan?" I asked with pretended innocence.
"No sense in talking about it if you don't know," he laughed. "Stop kidding me, Teri-you know what I have in mind."
I didn't know whether to be angry or to be complimented. He was propositioning me. Deliberately I lifted the yellow turkish towel from my body and let it fall to the floor. Then I looked down the length of my nakedness. And then I shuddered....
But I wasn't going to give in that easily.
"Why me, Stan? You must know a lot of' girls."
"Sure, I do, but I don't know any like you!"
I didn't like the implication and it suddenly dawned on me that he had been talking to Phil. I angered as I imaged Phil's discussing my sexual capabilities with him.
"How do you know!" I said angrily. "Did Phil talk to you about me?"
"Oh no," he answered quickly. "Phil wouldn't do anything like that-he's too much of a gentleman to discuss anything like that with me."
I was glad of that. Somehow the idea of being the topic of discussion between two lecherous males didn't appeal to me. Somehow Phil didn't seem to be that type of man. And so I was glad....
"But how do you know?" I repeated.
He laughed as he answered and I giggled along with him. "I can tell-I've made a study of the subject-what a girl would be like-you know, like some guys study the stock market-or baseball-me, I study girls"
Somehow I couldn't think of Stan as a lover. I remembered Laura's description of him-good for laughs-that's all. She'd never go to bed with him. Why not, I wondered. What was so different about Stan. You didn't have to love a man to go to bed with him. As a matter-of-fact, the man I loved didn't even want to go to bed with me...!
The memory of .that helped me make up my mind. Because of it, I looked down at my nakedness wondering why Bill had rejected me. Wasn't I sexy enough? Didn't he like the size of my breasts? Wasn't I made for loving-that's what Phil had said....
And the more I thought about it, and the more I studied myself, the more I felt the need and the desire. My body began to squirm and wriggle there on the chair as I allowed my imagination to take hold of me. I wanted ... I needed ... it was as simple as that....
And my husband didn't want. Didn't need.
Well, there were plenty of men who did.
As a matter-of-fact, I was talking to one right now. And the more I thought about Stan the more appealing the idea became to me. He was just the type. Just right. He wasn't a lover. There was nothing outstanding or exceptional about him. And that was just the kind of a man I was looking for. I'd show Bill ... oh, how I'd show him...!
"Where are you?" I asked in a quiet voice.
"You mean you'll come over!" he shouted as if he didn't believe me-as if he had never believed that I would give in to him.
"Yes," I answered quietly. "If you'll tell me where you are."
He gave me an address and I noted with satisfaction that it wasn't too far from the housing tract. I was glad of that-it would save time-And this time, I'd make sure to get home before Bill ... this time I wouldn't be late....
We hung up and I quickly made arrangements with a baby sitter to come over and mind the kids. Then I went into the bedroom and dressed. It didn't really matter what I wore-I wasn't trying to impress Stan-and so I put on the first dress that I reached into the closet for, thinking nothing about it. Then I went over to the full-length mirror to see how I looked. Turning, I examined myself. A sudden thought brought a smile to my face....
"Why not?" I whispered as I lifted the dress above my knees and thumbed the panties down over my legs. "It'll save time. Maybe I ought to take off my brassiere, too. Sure, might as well be ready-since I'm already willing...."
And wearing only the dress, I said goodbye to the babysitter and got into the car. It took me less than fifteen minutes to reach the apartment house. Hurriedly parking, I walked up the steps to the first floor and knocked on the door with the letter "C" on it....
Stan opened it immediately and with a pretended regal bow, ushered me into the apartment. It was as luxuriantly and elaborately furnished as was the beach house....
"Like it?" I heard Stan ask behind me. "Sure is something, isn't it? How about a drink-or maybe something to oat?"
I turned to face him, pirouetting so that my skirt whirled up around my thighs. I knew from the expression on his face that he had sighted my nakedness. I don't know if he was surprised or shocked, but because of his expression, I couldn't help but laugh.
And then I really shocked him. Or surprised him. "I only came here for one reason, Stan-and eating or drinking isn't it. So what do you say we get on with it? Where's the bedroom?"
He seemed to swallow his tongue at my words and then stammering, he pointed past me toward a closed door. I nodded and began to walk toward it, slowly unbuttoning the front of my dress as I walked. My back was to him, so he couldn't see what I was doing.
But he saw my nakedness when I dropped the dress from my body as I opened the door he had indicated....
"Come on," I called over my shoulder to him, "time's a-wasting. Thought you could tell about a girl...!"
I went into the bedroom, grinning at the sound of him hurrying to join me. Nonchalantly, as if he weren't in the room undressing quickly behind me, I pulled the bedspread down and climbed into the inviting bed....
Arms behind my neck I looked up at him and smiled. My eyes walked over his body and I think he was embarrassed because of it. At any rate, his face reddened when I said, "Hhhmmm, you'll do just fine ... and I ought to know ... I make a study of men!"
He didn't know what to do or to say because of my obvious callousness about what was going to happen. And because of it, he gave himself away. He was shy and inexperienced-really didn't know what to do. It was there in the shaking of his hands-in the quickness of his shallow breathing-in the nervous nibbling of his lips-and especially in the way he looked at me. Like a small) lost little boy ... , And I think I loved him for it.
It made it that much more exciting. I was glad he wasn't experienced. Glad that he was fumbling and embarrassed. At least it had some meaning that way-not just another roll in the hay. It would be exciting and thrilling and wonderful to him ... even ii it meant nothing to me. Even if I was only using him....
I let him fumble his way to excitement Let him enjoy me like a child would enjoy t toy. And then, when I felt his reluctance, I helped him. And we were like two children with a new toy now. Sharing and enjoying and playing together. And it was fun....
That's the best way to describe it. Fun There was no deep sensuality the way it had been with Phil. It was just fine. Oh, we responded to each other-the physical part of us responded because it was all so innocent. But that's all. Nothing else. There was no emotional response or reaction. We just enjoyed each other. It was as simple as that....
It was like we were climbing up a hill, hand in hand. Sensations and delights propelled us up the heights together. Higher and higher. Up ... up . ... up....
The depths of the passion were deep. So deep. But the reactions were of a light frothy Kind. I wanted to laugh happily while he crouched over me, but I didn't because I knew he wouldn't understand. His ego would be hurt. He would think I would be laughing at him. And so I didn't laugh....
Then the frivolity was suddenly gone from my mood. Gone with the appearance of Bill's face. As Stan lunged and thrust against me, I could see it. And I remembered....
I remembered his rejection of me. Remembered the many times he had left me tormented and empty. And because I remembered, my mood changed. Suddenly I became an insatiable woman. I wanted satisfaction. I needed satisfaction. And I would take it from this man who was filling himself up with my body....
My gyrations seemed wild and untamed compared to what they had been. I clawed and taloned at his shoulders and arms and bit deeply into his neck. He thought it was because of the pitch of my passion-of the exquisite ecstasy of the pain that was shooting through me ... and I let him believe what he wanted to believe. I didn't care. All I cared about was satisfying myself. Satisfying myself....
And I did.
Completely and fully.
Again and again so that he was left weak and exhausted and drained. It was obvious from the heavy breathing and the sob that spread from his throat that Stan had never experienced anything like this before-and he revelled in it ... thrilled with it....
But I didn't care. I had what I wanted. What I needed. The fact that we were both completely satisfied didn't matter ... all that mattered was my own feelings ... my own sensations ... my own delights....
That's why he didn't understand as I began to sob, crying over and over again...."I hope you're satisfied now, Bill ... I hope you're satisfied ... I showed you! There ... I showed you ... and I'll show you every chance I get ... every chance I get...!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The chances came thick and furious after my session with Stan. Just before leaving, I told him to give my phone number out-to tell who ever he thought might be interested that I was available. Not just for sex though. That wasn't all I was interested in ... I wanted fun ... excitement ... thrills. All the things that I was missing because of being married....
And they happened. The phone rang incessently. All kinds of men. Young ones. Old ones. Rich ones. Interesting ones. All kinds. And at first, I turned none of them down. I was too eager to catch up on what I had been missing to turn any of them down. It was only after a few months had passed that I began to become more discriminate. Or when I realized that a man was becoming serious over me. I didn't want that ... I wasn't looking for love ... I had that from Bill ... at least what he thought was love ... and so when a man became, or thought he was becoming emotionally involved, I dropped him. Refused to go out with him. I just wanted the fun and the excitement ... nothing else....
I even returned their gifts. Refused to accept them. It wasn't that I didn't want them, but I knew they could only get me into trouble at home. How could I explain them to Bill? Besides, it was the idea of getting the gift that was more important to me than the gift itself. The idea that a man thought enough of me to want to buy me something that was important. I guess they didn't understand that, but I didn't care. I understood it. Or at least thought I did....
And sex? Oh, there was plenty of that. More than enough. But after a while, that wasn't the only thing I was interested in ... it wasn't enough just to crawl into bed with some man and get my kicks. As long as I was having my fun and excitement and doing the things I wanted to and going to the places that I had been deprived of because of being married, sex wasn't as important to me as it had been at one time. When I reached that stage, I understood Laura. What she meant by not being able to be seduced. I knew what the men were after-what they really wanted and expected when they took me out-but I wasn't buying that. I wasn't giving it away at the drop of a hat....
I took my sex when I wanted it. Needed it. I chose the man, the man didn't choose me. And it was better because of it. I was primed and ready and the man was only too willing to be the lover I needed. Somehow I began to think that maybe this was the truest expression of sex. That it wasn't a chore or an obligation like when you got married. It wasn't expected of you. You gave of yourself because you wanted to. And you took because you needed to take. And your partner, whoever he might be, felt exactly the same way. That's why it was always fresh and exciting. And thrilling and fulfilling.
Of course, after a while, I had a reputation that I wasn't proud of-as being an easy mark. I just liked sex-and because I was willing at the times I was willing, it merely seemed that I was an easy mark. You know how men talk ... any girl they go to bed with becomes an easy mark. I swear, sometimes I think men are bigger gossips than women! But I couldn't really complain ... because of their gossiping, I had plenty of men in my life. And because I had plenty of men, my life became exactly what I wanted it to become....
Sometimes I went out with Laura, sometimes alone. And surprisingly, I met other married girls my age who were doing exactly the same thing. Maybe it wasn't s surprising after all. Their needs were the same as mine. Their lives were slipping away just as mine had been. They had been missing the same things I had been missing. The fun and the excitement and the thrills....
And being married gave me a sense of security. A sense of protection. I could always use that as an excuse for everything I did or didn't do. And nobody could question it. No, I can't get out tonight, I'm going out with my husband, I could tell a man that I didn't want to go out with. Or, I'm sorry, but the kids are sick today ... or any number of excuses that you could only use if you were in the position I was in-and there was no way of anybody refuting or not believing those excuses. They had to be true ... after all. she's a married woman!
I went all over. Did everything. To parties.
Dances. Nightclubs. Skiing. Surfing. You name it, I did it. I did it because the opportunity to do it was always there. There was always a man who was willing to take me-to show me how-to help me enjoy life. And I didn't feel guilty about it as far as the man was concerned ... he was getting as much out of it as I was, wasn't he? Otherwise, why did they do it? No, it was a fair exchange. And sometimes, there'd even be sex ... what could be fairer than that!
One weekend I went away with Phil to Lake Arrowhead. It was wonderful. I had always wanted to go away for a weekend with a man, but the opportunity had never been there. Bill and I couldn't afford it when we were younger and after we were married, it didn't seem right to spend the money just on having a good time. But it was perfect with Phil. No ties. No obligations. And plenty of money. I almost fell in love with him over that weekend and because of the way everything was. But I stopped myself in time ... Phil wasn't the type of man you fell in love with. He was just the type of man you went away with for a weekend....
How did I do it? I mean, what did I tell Bill? I lied, that's how I got away with it. I was getting pretty good at lying ... I had to because of what I was doing. And if he suspected that I was lying, he never let me know. He merely accepted whatever I told him as the truth and that was all there was to it. What kind of a man is that? That was the kind of a man I was married to-so is it any wonder that I continued to do what I did? Is it any wonder that I went away for a weekend with a man who wasn't my husband?
For no matter what Phil was, he was also the perfect lover. Considerate. Thoughtful. Kind. He knew how to please a woman. Knew what made her happy. And so he pleased me-made me happy. I don't think I'll ever forget that weekend at Lake Arrowhead. That's where he had his lodge and it was everything that a romantic lodge should be. Fireplace. Window that looked out over the lake. A boat. Everything. A girl couldn't help but give in to a man under those conditions and in that setting....
And I gave in.
Oh, how I gave in. Like each time was going to be the last time. I couldn't help myself. I wanted him so badly. No, that's not true. I didn't want him ... I just wanted to make love. This was the time and the place for making love. I suppose it could have been any man ... the fact that it happened to be Phil was unimportant ... I was in love with making love, that's all. And I expressed it in every way I could ... every chance I could....
I know that when the weekend was over both of us were exhausted. We were glad it was over. It had been just enough. Just right. Now we could go back to the normalcy of our lives and recouperate ... wondered about that. Why he never called.
That was the last time I saw Phil. I often me again-never wanted to take me out. I know I pleased him-know that I was enough woman for him. And yet that weekend was the end of our relationship. I called him a couple of days later after not hearing from him and I could sense immediately that things were different. His answers were single words of yes or no and there was-a distance in his voice that had never been there before. It was obvious that he no longer wanted to see me and I couldn't understand why. It hurt at first-at least my ego did-but I got over it soon enough. Why shouldn't I, there were plenty of other men who were only too willing to take his place ... I showed him. Oh, did I show him!
There was no stopping me after that. I went out as often as I could and whoever asked me. And sex? With anybody and everybody. It was like getting even with two men now ... Bill and Phil. Like I was trying" to prove something to them ... that even if they didn't want me, there were still plenty of men around who did...!
How did Bill take all of this? Like it wasn't even happening, that's how! He hid from the obvious-pretended that I was still a good and true wife to him and his children. At least that's the impression he gave me. Or maybe it was just the impression I read in his actions....
He became more distant. We both did. We had less and less in common now. How could we have anything in common ... he was only concerned with the humdrumness in our lives-paying bills ... taking care of the children-things like that ... and my mind was occupied with the next party ... the man I had just met ... the fun of the night before. So how could we have anything in common?
Sometimes days would go by without our saying more than a handful of words to each other. I'd watch him sit in front of the televsision set and I'd want to scream at him in frustration and anger. Didn't he see what was happening to his life ... didn't he want the same things I did ... fun and excitement? Didn't he realize that life was passing him by-that soon he'd be too old to enjoy it!
What was the matter with him! Now do you understand why I did the things I did...?
Laura and Don moved away one day. They never even said goodbye. That seemed strange ... we had been such good friends. Oh, I knew things were pretty bad between them ... Bill and I used to hear them fighting practically every night. I was glad it wasn't like that with us ... maybe our marriage wasn't so hot, but at least we didn't fight ... made me seem more grown-up. Only animals fight. But anyway ... it was the day after they had had a real knockdown dragout that they moved. I thought he had been hitting her from the way she had been screaming and I had to cringe at the sound of her voice filled with fright. That's why I thought it was so strange of Bill when he nodded his head approvingly and said, "Looks like the party's over for Laura."
"What do you mean?" I asked, not quite sure I understood what he was talking about.
"Guess Don's finished putting up with her. Sounds like he's had it. Probably laying the law down to her right now. She needs it, too."
It was then that I wondered how much Bill knew. But he couldn't know-he just couldn't, how could he, I had been so careful. Besides. if he knew anything or suspected anything, wouldn't he tell me? No, not Bill ... he still trusted me.
But they moved the next day. I wanted to go out to them while they were watching the moving van load but Laura caught sight of me through the open kitchen window and shook her head. She didn't want to see me-to talk to me. Or was she afraid to be talking to me? I wondered about that because just before she shook her head she gave a quick look and saw that he was looking at my house. Oh well, maybe it's better this way ... less chance of being caught if your partner doesn't live right next door! Still I watched their car pull out of the driveway for the last time, with sadness. It was going to be lonely around here with no one to talk to-no one who understood me....
Then I turned back to finishing the dishes and promptly forgot all about Laura and Don. I didn't have time to think about them ... I had to get ready ... I was going out. With a new man.. A man who had seen me at the party where I had done a strip. He looked like a fun-type man and that's what I needed. A fun-type man. So why should I think of Laura and Don and their problems? I didn't want to have to think about problems just then ... life was too filled with problems anyway. No, I just wanted to get dressed for the new man in my life....
I just wanted to continue having a ball! I never wanted it to stop. Never! Never! Never!
CHAPTER TWELVE
I came down to the kitchen and found Bill still sitting at the dinette sipping coffee. Quickly I glanced at the yellow clock on the wall and then looked at him in surprise.
"Hey, you're late," I said in a light tone. "It's almost nine-thirty."
He didn't move. Instead, he seemed to concentrate on the cup of coffee in front of him as if it were the most important thing in the world.
That's not like him, not like Bill at all. He's never late to work ... he'd go to work unless he was on his death bed. Something's wrong-maybe-maybe he's found out. Maybe that's it! And oh, my God, I've got a date in two hours ... I've got to get him out of the house! What am I going to do ... what am I going to do...!
Trying to hide my anxiety and my nervousness, I casually sat down opposite him and poured myself a cup of coffee. I sipped it deeply before looking at him.
"What's wrong, Bill?" I asked carefully. Don't you feel well?"
"I feel fine," he answered casually, as if I had just asked a stupid question.
"Then what's wrong? Why didn't you go to work today?"
He took a sigh and let out his breath. It was obvious that he had come to some kind of a decision. A decision that he had thought about for a long time....
"It's all over, Teri," he finally said in a sad tone.
Carefully I put the cup back into it saucer and stared at him. "What's all over? What are you talking about?"
"You. Me. Us. That's what I'm talking about-we're what's all over. Finished. Through."
I think my mouth dropped open at his words. I still didn't know what he was talking about. I thought I did, but I didn't want to face it. I wanted to make sure....
"What do you mean!" I said with the slight bite of panic causing my voice to rise up the scale.
"Just that, Teri-we're getting a divorce. Or at least I am."
"Divorce!" I shouted as if in disbelief. "But why?"
He sighed and carefully lighted his cigarette before replying. Then he blew a ladder of smoke at the ceiling and said the words that I had been afraid to face....
"Why should it bother you so much, Teri? You really don't want to be married anyway!"
I pounded my fist on the table as if to dispute his words. "But I do! I do!"
"How can you say that?" he questioned in a low voice without a tint of anger to it. "How can you say that when your actions prove everything but that."
"What do you mean?" I shouted at him, my hands clutching at my throat in fear.
"Oh, let's not lie to each other anymore. I know all about you. What you've been doing. The-the men in your life. Everything!" He seemed to hate saying the last part-as if it were a blow to his pride and ego. But then I forgot about his pride and ego ... the fear and tension within me were too much. He knew! He knew! Oh, the shame of it ... I was so ashamed ... so very much ashamed...!
Slowly I lifted my face and looked at him. He stared at me as if I were a bug under a microscope-as if watching and waiting to see how I would respond to the stimulus of his accusation....
"But-but of you-if you knew, why-why didn't you say anything to me?" I stammered. "Why-why didn't you do anything?"
"What good would it have done?" he asked and I knew he was right. It wouldn't have done any good ... I was guilty ... what good would have talking about it done...." and what did you want me to do?" he continued. "Beat you-hit you? That's what Don did to Laura-is that what you wanted me to do with you?"
Now I knew the truth about Laura and Don. Now I knew why they had moved away-to get a new start probably-in a new environment. And that accounted for their many arguments-their fights. No, I wouldn't have wanted Bill to do that to me....
"B-but can't we work it out?" I questioned him in a low voice. "It-it can't be over just like-like that!"
He shook his head defiantly. "No, there's nothing to work out, Teri. It's too late to work it out."
My whole word seemed to be crumbling away like water eroding at the shores of a stream. And there was no way of stopping it. Pieces kept falling off-pieces that I couldn't replace. Desperately I tried to dam up my crumbling world....
"But why not?" I insisted in a loud voice, "There's got to be a way-there's got to be a way! It's not all my fault-really it isn't!"
His shoulders seemed to sag and slowly his head bobbed in admission. "I suppose you're right, Teri-it isn't all your fault-part of it is mine. But there's nothing that can change anything between us. We're-we're just not suited for each other!"
"How can you say that!" I yelled at him. 'I love you! I love you!"
"Some kind of love," he snorted derisively. "Besides, I don't doubt that you love me. But love's got nothing to do with what's wrong between us."
"Then what's wrong'?" I asked in confusion. I really didn't know what he was talking about.
"You don't want to be married. You don't want to grow up." He paused and his words seemed to stab into me like an arrow of accusation.
"What do you mean!" I shouted at him, rising half-way out of the seat. "What do you mean!"
"Just that!" he screamed back. He too rose out of the seat and our faces were but inches apart as he continued the tirade. "You don't want the responsibilities-the obligations that go with being married. Sure, it isn't all fun-nobody ever said it was. But you can't ignore those responsibilities. You can't hide from them. They won't go away just because you refuse to look at them. They're always with you-constantly. But you don't want that. You want to play-have fun-thrills-you refuse to grow up! And that's what it takes to make a marriage go ... growing up. You're younger now than when I married you ... something's happened to you ... some thing sick and rotten. That's why we can't work it out, Teri ... I can't make you grow up ... nobody can make you grow up ... that's something you have to do by yourself. And you don't want to grow up. You want to stay a kid all your life. Well, go ahead ... be a kid ... all your life ... but not at my expense!"
He seemed exhausted by the explosion and sank wearily back to the seat. I stood over him, supporting myself with my hands on the edge of the table, looking at him. I had to sup port myself like that or else I would have collapsed....
Was he right? No, he couldn't be right. That wasn't it at all. No, I was a woman, I wasn't a child. What was wrong with wanting a good time? What was wrong with wanting fun and excitement? No, he was wrong! Not me-he was the one who was wrong! I could change-I could be a good wife-growing up had nothing to do with it ... nothing...!
"You'd better get ready," he said wearily
"Ready? For what?"
"For your date. Don't you have a date this morning?"
I sank back to the chair, exhausted and deflated by his words. It was the final straw to my guilt. The final blow to the game I had been playing. There was no way out of it. I couldn't lie-couldn't hide from the truth. Bill knew ... I guess he always knew....
But he didn't wait for my answer. It was obvious that he didn't care what my answer would be. Slowly, as if exhausted, he pushed out of the booth and began to walk out of the kitchen....
"Where-where are you going?" I called after him, an edge of fright knifing into my soul.
"To pack," he answered carefully over his shoulders. "I'm leaving. I wouldn't spend another night in this house if you paid me to do it!"
I don't know why, but I ran after him. I couldn't stop him-I know that-but I couldn't sit by myself in that kitchen knowing what he was doing in our bedroom....
I stood in the middle of the room watching him pack his bags. My heart seemed to stop because of the finality of what he was doing There was no turning back now, I knew that-and because I knew it I seemed to come apart....
I sagged to the floor, sobbing hysterically, burying my face in my hands. He turned and looked at me once, then shrugged and went back to his packing. He did it slowly and carefully, as if it were the most important job in the world. And there was nothing I could do about it-nothing but to endure the agony that was tearing me apart. But it didn't seem to matter to Bill-it was as if I wasn't' even in the room. And as I sobbed there on the floor, silently pleading with him, I prayed for a miracle to happen that would somehow change what was happening....
But the miracle didn't happen.
"I'm finished, Teri," I heard him say and then I watched him carry his bags out of the bedroom. "I'll come back and get the rest of my stuff during the week sometime," he said over his shoulder. Not knowing what I was doing, I nodded my head and trailed after him and watched him go out the back door to the garage. I sighed as he disappeared from sight and began to wander aimlessly about the house. It was so quiet-like a tomb....
That's why I spun hopefully and with fright as I heard the sound of the back door slamming. I ran to the kitchen and looked at Bill with surprise-and hope-as he came back into the house.
"What-what is it?" I asked in a small voice wondering why he had returned.
His body seemed to stiffen as if preparing itself for my resistance. "The children-get the children ready, Teri. I'm taking them to my mother's house until I can make arrangements for us." No, not the children! He couldn't mean that My hands went to my mouth in fright at his words and their implication. "No! No!" I screamed in a hollow voice. "You can't mean that-you're not taking the children!"
"Yes, I am, Teri-it's better that way Besides, you don't really want them-the only get in your way-tie you down. This way you'll have more freedom. So don't argue-just get them ready so I can take their, with me!"
"No!" I screamed at him defiantly, "you're not going to take them! I won't let you! You can't have them! You're not going to take my children from me! I won't let you-I won't let you!"
He laughed coldly and heartlessly. He was cool and calm as he spoke, as if he were very sure of what he was saying. "You can't stop me, Teri-don't try. You'll only make it worse for yourself ... and for the children."
I was almost afraid to ask the question W-what do you mean?" I asked timidly.
"I don't' want to have to take you to court and prove that you're an unfit mother, Teri. I don't want to hurt you so don't force me to. Because I can prove that you're an unfit mother-I-I have the evidence if I have to use it!"
Evidence! I knew what he meant. Maybe pictures-who knows what kind of evidence he had. It could be anything. It wouldn't have been difficult, I hadn't been concerned with covering my activities. No, Bill was telling the truth. I knew that. If he wanted to, he could produce all kinds of evidence to prove his statement....
Wearily, all the fight and resistance went out of me. I looked at him hopelessly and nodded my head. "All right," I whispered in a hoarse voice, "I'll get them ready for you."
"You can see them anytime you want, Teri," he added in a placating tone. "They are your children, too-I won't deprive you of them. I just don't want you to bring them up, that's all. You're not capable of doing that. Do you understand?"
I didn't answer him. There was no reason to answer him. I was too tired to argue any, further. My body ached with the fatigue of the nervous storm that I had just been through. Slowly I walked through the living room and went into the nursery. The kids were napping and I looked down at them, tears winking into the corners of my eyes. What would I say to them-how would I explain? Then it dawned on me ... they were too young. I wouldn't have to explain anything to them. And I was grateful for that-how do you tell the truth to your children-that you're unfit to be their mother...?
I woke them up and dressed them quickly, not wanting to prolong the agony of being with them longer than necessary. Then carrying each one, I brought them back into the living room. Slowly I handed them to Bill. I could see the hurt in his face because of what I had forced him to do and the agony I was feeling was now laced with shame. It wasn't his fault-none of this was his fault-it was all mine ... every aching bit of agony....
Dimly, as if through a mist, I heard him say goodbye. The tears were flowing hard now as the door closed behind him. But I couldn't look. I wanted to-I wanted to run to him-do anything to bring him back into the house-but I couldn't do anything ... there wasn't anything left for me to do....
And then I heard the sound of the car and a moment later it was quiet. They were gone. I couldn't believe it. They were really gone
. . really gone...!
I began to wander aimlessly about the house. Picking up things that needed to be picked up ... some toys ... Bill's pipe ... old newspapers. Then I stopped and looked around. What was I doing that for? It was just wasted effort-there was nobody here anymore. Nobody but myself. The house suddenly seemed like a tomb....
I didn't want to dress, there was no sense in that. What for? And so, still wearing the same housecoat that I had put on when the day had begun, I wandered back into the kitchen. Blindly, not really knowing what I was doing, I turned the heat on under the coffer pot. Finally it was ready and I poured myself a cup. Not because I really wanted it, but because I didn't know what else to do. Then wearily I carried the cup back into the living room and sank like a stone into the nearest chair....
A million thoughts raced through my mind. None of them making sense. But I couldn't turn them off. It was as if I had lost control of myself....
Then suddenly the doorbell rang.
In my anxiety to get to the door, I spilled the cup of coffee. But I didn't care. They were coming back. It had only been a dream and now the nightmare was over. Bill was jus! trying to teach me a lesson ... that's all They were coming back!
I'll change-you'll see, Bill, I'll change. Really I will. I'll try. Hard. Just help me-oh, help me! I want to grow up-really I do!
Just give me another chance ... one more chance....
"Hi Teri, what's the matter? You don't look too hot."
I stared at the man. The man who wasn't Bill. The man who had asked me to go out with him. Without answering him, I left the door open and went back into the house....
He stood nervously in the door, looking into the house. "Your husband's not home, is he?" he asked with a self-conscious smile.
I stared at him. "No, my husband's not home. C'mon in."
Feeling more sure of himself, he came into the living room and seated himself next to me on the sofa. Then he seemed to be listening for something.
"What's the matter?" I asked, not really caring.
"I'm listening for your kids," he answered. "They seem awfully quiet. Don't tell me they're not here-don't tell me they're at the babysitter's already!"
I closed my eyes as I answered. "No, they're not here." Then I choked back a sob....
He didn't seem to notice. Turning to me, he smiled suggestively. "How about getting dressed, Teri?" he then asked. "We've got a long day ahead of us."
"Why-why don't we just stay here," I said.
He looked at me as if he didn't believe what he had heard. Then the smile broke wide across his face. "Sure," he answered happily, "what ever you say, Teri-whatever you say."
We sat on the sofa and I know what was going through his mind. But I didn't care about anything. I felt so alone-and so lonely., I was afraid because of the loneliness ... so afraid....
"Well, what do you want to do?" he then asked nervously, shifting his weight so that he was edging closer to me....
What did I want to do? I didn't know. I only knew that I didn't want to feel so alone ... and so lonely....
Slowly I began to unbutton the front of the housecoat. His eyes widened at the sight of my bare breasts because I wasn't wearing o brassiere ... then he reached for me....
I shook my head and stood up. He looked at my nakedness and I could se the desire in his face. "No, not here," I said. "Let's go into the bedroom....
Eagerly he rose to his feet and putting his arm around my waist walked me toward the bedroom. I could feel his fingers tightened around the bottom of my breasts and I leaned my head against his shoulder.
"Love me-just love me," I moaned into his throat as his free hand began to stroke at my flesh.
"Sure, Baby, sure," he consoled me and then closed the door behind him.
I sagged to the bed, not watching him undress. My eyes were closed because I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to think of what was going to happen....
All I wanted to do was to lose the whirlpool of emptiness and loneliness that was sucking me down ... down ... down....
EPILOGUE
I moaned at the sound of the voice in my ear and the hard hand pushing on my shoulder.
"Hey, c'mon, baby, get up and get us some coffee!"
I shook my head to chase the sleep away and mumbled my agreement. Then I was pushing my way to the edge of the bed. Carefully, as if afraid that my body would crumble underneath my weight, I then eased myself out of the bed. Through half-open eyes I made my way into the kitchen. I grimaced in disgust at the sight of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the garbage pail filled with empty cans. Holding my breath, I pushed dishes aside until I found the coffee pot. Then I cleared it out and prepared the coffee.
Slowly I began to awaken. I looked down at the coffee pot and decided to wait until it began to perk. Wearily I sat down at the kitchen table, resting my face in the cup of my hands. Tired, I was so tired....
It had been a long night. A party to end all parties. Wild. Crazy-wild. I tried to recall the events, shaking my head in an effort to clear the cobwebs. Drinking-too much drinking. Dancing-too much dancing. I lifted my aching feet as if to prove the thought. And loving-too much loving ... much too much loving....
"Hey, where's that coffee?" the deep voice yelled from the bedroom.
"Not ready yet!" I yelled back. "I'll bring it in as soon as it's ready...." My mind fumbled for a name to go with the voice. But it didn't come-I didn't know his name! Oh God, what was happening to me-I had ended up in some man's apartment, and I didn't even know the man's name...!
But I didn't want to know his name. I never wanted to know their names anymore. They were all just faces to me. That way they couldn't touch me-couldn't reach me. It was better that way-safer. I could surround myself with their images and I would never be lonely again ... never ... never...!
The coffee began to bubble in the glass top and I smiled to myself at the sound of it. Nice sound. Comforting. Good and comforting. That's all I searched for now-to be comforted. No more fusses ... no more problems ... just comfort....
I didn't even know what day it was. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything after the divorce. Bill divorced me-it was easier that way. Easier for everybody. I didn't contest it, how could I? On what grounds? That he wasn't exciting enough? That we didn't have good times together? That he was too serious trying to be a husband and a father? No, it was better this way. Much better.
I saw the kids a couple of times after that. Used to go see them all the time at first. But then it was too hard to see them. They didn't need me-they only needed somebody to take care of them at their age. And Bill's mother could do that-as well as give them the love they needed. Bill was right, it was better for them where they were. Gave me more freedom-no responsibilities-no obligations.
I didn't even work. I didn't have to-there were always plenty of men around willing to pay my way for me. Not the kind of men like Bill-but I didn't want that kind. Not really. And so what if I had to be nice to them in return-that was part of the bargain, wasn't it? You do me a favor and I'll do one for you....
I lost track of time. I couldn't keep track of it-not in the crazy, wild life I was leading. There were too many parties to go to-too much fun to be had-too much excitement around if you knew where to find it. And too many men to make love with to worry about the time. Besides, what difference' did it make what day it was? One day was just like the other,, wasn't it....
And I didn't want to know what day it was anyway. Who wanted to know that time was passing? Who wanted to know that I was getting older? Some day I'd change-sure I would-I knew that. But not yet. Not today. Or tomorrow. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. When the time was right, that's when. I'd know when that was ... right now wasn't the time, that's all....
"Hey, isn't that coffee ready yet?" the voice called again from the bedroom.
I looked at the bubbling brown liquid and got up from the chair and turned off the flame on the stove. "Be right in," I called as I fumbled in the sink trying to find two clean cups. "Be right in."
I cursed softly to myself at the mess and then, because there wasn't anything else to do, washed out two cups and saucers. Then I poured the coffee. I looked for some cream and sugar, then shrugged when I didn't find any. Oh well, I thought to myself, I hope he likes it black....
Then I carried the cups into the bedroom. He smiled up at me contentedly and moved over to the far side of the bed so I could sit down on the edge. We both were silent as we sipped the refreshing brew, sighing contentedly as life seemed to come back into our bodies....
"Any cigarettes around?" he mumbled as he tried to balance the cup on his sheet-covered chest.
I got up and dug through the debris on the dressing table and nightstand before I found the crumpled pack. Lighting two of them, I handed one to him and then restated myself. We sighed happily as the feeling of contentment continued to grow and grow and grow....
"Some party," he finally said with a grin, leaning across me to put the cup and saucer down on the night table.
"Must have been," I admitted. "I don't remember what happened after ten o'clock."
He stared at me incredulously. "You don't!" He said the words as if they were hard to believe.
I shook my head and finished the cup of coffee. "Nope ... a complete blackout." He sat up and the sheet slipped down from his shoulders revealing his naked chest. I knew that he was completely naked, but I didn't react to it. So what, so was I....
"You don't remember what you did?" he then asked.
Once again I shook my head. "Would I say I didn't if I did!" I asked in an angry tone.
"Want to hear about it?" he then asked carefully.
I shrugged indifferently. "Why not-should be pretty interesting to find out what one did when you can't remember anything about it."
"I'll say it is!"
The sarcastic tone in his voice made me look at him suspiciously. "Tell me what I did," I asked in a low voice.
"Well, after taking off all your clothes," he he paused waiting to see the effect that announcement would have on me. I shrugged-what the hell, I had done that so many times it wasn't even fun any more....
"Well, after taking off all your clothes," he went on, "you got up on the kitchen table and volunteered to take any man who wanted it into the bedroom. Promised that you'd make them quit before you did!"
Once again he hesitated and looked at me to see my reaction. This time I had to look away. I busied myself with the coffee cup so he couldn't see the look of shame on my face....
"And what finally happened?" I then asked, aware that there was more to the story.
"You made a bet-said that if you couldn't outlast a man, that you'd live with him-you'd be his for as long as he wanted you."
"And...?" I held my breath, almost afraid to hear what happened after that.
"I won," he said simply and proudly. "You were pretty good, baby-wore out five guys-guess that's why I won-you had had too much before you, you took me on!"
"And now?" I asked in a hushed tone.
"Now I'm collecting," he finished with a satisfied expression on his face. "That's how come you're here with me-at least until I get tired of you."
I stood up, knocking the coffee cup out of my lap, and rushed to the bathroom because I thought I was going to throw up. But nothing happened-nothing but a twin trickle of tears that began to course down my cheeks. I went to the wash basin and rinsed off my face and that's when I saw my reflection in the the mirror. I stared wide-eyed at myself-looked so different. So-so old...!
The freshness was gone. The alertness. I looked ten years older than I actually was. It was there in the circles under my eyes, in the unkempt hair, and in the wrinkles at the corners of my mouth. I stepped away from the sink and looked down at my body. Even my body seemed older. More worn. Used. Tired. Oh God, what was happening to me ... what was happening to me...!
"Hey, c'mon back," I heard the loud voice calling to me.
Not knowing what else to do, I returned to the bedroom. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. His smile was lecherous and he was licking his wide, full lips in anticipation....
"What do you want?" I asked in a dull tone.
"About time you started paying off on that bet, baby-I want you!"
I continued to stare at him. The sheet had been pulled from his body and he lay completely revealed to me. I shuddered in repulsion. He was fat-ugly fat. His belly hung in deep folds into his lap because of it. And the hair on his chest and arms and legs made him seem dirty. But he wanted me. He-he owned me...!
I came over to the bed and sat down on the edge, waiting for him to make the first move.
He made it.
Roughly and crudely, pulling me onto the bed and pushing be down onto my back. His body seemed to spread itself over mine as he sprawled across me and his hands were like sponges as he pulled and toyed and played with my breasts.
And the sensations began to happen. I could feel them. Slow at first. Gradually. But incessent. It was always like that. All that I needed was the touch of a man. Any man. And then the loneliness began to fade away ... fade away....
"Hurry! Hurry!" I whimpered under him. "Please hurry!"
He lifted himself onto his elbows and leered down into my face. The stench from his mouth was almost overbearing and I twisted my head away from his in an effort to escape the fumes. "Can't wait, huh!" he taunted me. "I'm too good for you-isn't that it-say that's it...."
I said it. Not because it was true, but because he wanted me to say it. And because I knew that unless I said it, he wouldn't go on-wouldn't continue. And I needed him to go on-I needed him to continue....
And so I said it.
And because I said the words he needed to hear, he went on. His hands became alive on my body. Touching. Probing. Caressing. Pulling. Pinching. At my breasts. My nipples. My buttocks. My thighs. Everywhere....
And it was good.
Not the sensation, but what it made me feel. Not the delight, but the image in my brain. The satisfaction of having a man love me-care for me-make me forget my loneliness ... my emptiness....
And because of it, I responded. With everything. My body. My hands. My fingers. My mouth. My lips. My tongue. Oh, how I responded! Like I always responded with a man. With any man. It didn't matter what he looked like-how he was-not once we were making love ... nothing mattered then. Except the fact that I was no longer afraid. No longer lonely....
"Can't wait-can't wait!" I whimpered as the need became too great. I couldn't fight it off any longer. I had to have him. Now. Immediately.
With a savage cry, he pushed himself between my legs. I shuddered as he crouched over me looking like some prehistoric animal. And then the animal was rendering my carcass-tearing it apart with the fury of his need and his appetite...!
I cried out because of the pain and the hurt and I clawed at his shoulders with my fingers. Part of the time I was trying to push him away-and part of the time I was trying to pull him in even closer....
The fire swept over me-consuming me in long licks of flame. I sweltered from the heat and though my loins throbbed from the agony I was enduring, I had to go on. And on. And on.
It was the only way. The only salvation.
"Oh, good!" I whimpered as the flames licked even higher. "So good!"
My expression of appreciation spurred him on to even greater efforts. He slammed against me again and again in an effort to bring me even higher. Up ... up ... up ... I soared on the wings of delight. It was happening ... oh God, it was happening....
I was always afraid of that-that it wouldn't happen. And when it finally did, I felt as if I had just broken out of prison. Free. Unconfined.
I let go with every fibre of my being, surrendering completely to the wave of sensation that pounded into me and through me.
And then it was done.
I shuddered and fell limp and exhausted down ... down ... down. The same delights were happening to him-I could sense that from the stiffening and tightening of his body. But I didn't care about him-didn't care what was happening to him. I only cared about myself....
And I felt wonderful. Free. Purged.
And the sobs started.
Like they always did. I didn't understand that. Why did I always cry when it was all over. I felt so good-why should I cry? Why should I feel so miserable? How can you feel good and miserable at the same time?
I couldn't control them. I never could. They just swept over me like a raging torrent-wild and unchecked. And they would go on and on until they had run their course....
And like most men, he reacted the same way to them. As if they were the result of his ability with women. As if they were the natural result of his talents as a lover....
"To much for you, huh?" he whispered huskily, still exhausted from his efforts. "Guess I'm too much for you. Right?"
I didn't argue. What was the sense in that. I didn't know the answer anyway, so why argue about it. It was much easier to agree with the men ... much easier....
"Right...." I paused and looked into his face, studying it for some kind of a clue. "Right ... what did you say your name was...?"
I prayed that it would be Bill. But it wasn't. And because it wasn't, I forgot it almost as soon as he told me. And then the tears really started. Like there was no end to them....
Like they always did when they told me their name wasn't Bill....