Chapter 3
Jean straightened the hat on her head and checked her lipstick in the mirror. It was a cold gray day and she was dressing to meet Laura to go shopping. Then they might go to dinner and a show as David had a date and would be going out right after school.
She had been meeting Laura a lot for these afternoon excursions since she had broken up with Robert. The unfeeling brute hadn't even called her and she had decided to be cold-hearted toward him and make things as difficult as possible.
The door rang. It was Laura.
"Ready yet."
"In a minute. Let me get my coat."
"Francis' wedding is in two weeks and I need a pair of shoes to match my new blue dress."
The idea of going out without her husband was no longer foreign to the lonely housewife. She had become used to being flirted with and then warding off potential selfish men.
"I think I'll just wear something in my wardrobe."
It was necessary to be more conscious of money these days. She was dead serious about the divorce and planned to take as much for herself as the lawyer thought possible. The house would be nice, and the jewelry too, and possibly even the car as well.
They went shopping finally and couldn't find anything they liked. Then ducked into a little restaurant in the mall to mull the situation over. They sat down at one of the individually lit booths.
"Have you met Francis' fiance before," said Laura.
"Yes, at the engagement party."
"What does he look like."
"He's fat and bald but he has a lot of money. He has a sweet disposition though."
"I think my man would have to be nice looking for me to marry him."
"That's because you fairly well off financially."
"Most of the men I date are well off too. But there all interested in running around with other women and not settling down."
Jean thought of the time that she and her husband had spent the whole summer going cross country with just the two of them and David. They were a real family then. The world was a place full of spontaniety and miracles.
Lost in the dream Jean heard herself say, "I guess it's a matter of what you're willing to settle for."
"That's so true. I won't settle for any thing less than that one man who can satisfy all my needs and desires."
"But then one is doomed to a time of loneliness."
"Not really. In the meantime you can try different men that all together fill those gaps. Like Phil-I let take me to the opera and George and I enjoy skiing." Jean was so naive in those intimate matters in which her good friend seemed so proficient. It amazed her how she could seperate her emotions into tiny compartments. Jean felt that her time could only be devouted to one man. Don't these men demand personal favors in return?"
"I don't have sex with all of them if that's what you mean."
Jean thought back to the vulgar pass that the detective she hired had tried to make before she had thwarted his advances. The memory made her a little nauseous while at the same time it seemed to spark that now familiar itch that raced through her loins. She was confused.
"How do you avoid it. I mean how do you stop their advances and still have them coming back and keep their charm."
"A woman is not as powerless as you might think. A man can be held in check by the allure of the chase. The key is in being mysterious and hard to pin down."
Jean had known Laura all through high school and even then she was expert in getting the boy's attention. Strangely, one never heard that she was cheap nor did a reputation trail her. She was always smart and dignified and the men you saw her with were cultured and polite.
"How do you mean mysterious?"
"A woman should be like a business man with her emotions. I try to be seductive only some of the time. You know, when I think there's a chance for a good relationship as well."
"And then what happens if it doesn't work out."
Jean could see by Laura's crossed eyebrows that her question had accidentally hit a nerve. She forgot that Laura had a break-up herself not long ago with a man she had agreed to live with in the hope of one day getting married.
"You start all over again, what else."
The thing Jean really liked about her was that Laura would never let her attitude show that her stance was thrown. She was a great spiritual help to her at this time in her life and she didn't mean to hurt her.
"You know, Jean, a woman has needs also that she has every right to satisfy regardless of what people think."
Jean felt that familiar twitch between her legs. What people thought meant a lot to her. She suddered at the thought of what David might think of her should she live with a man.
Laura had no children and she didn't want to hurt her feelings by bringing up the problem of setting an example. She changed the subject.
"Oh well, let's finish up and get out of her. It's getting late."
"You know Jean, it wouldn't be so bad for to have a fling. You're a great looking woman and you should enjoy yourself. Forget about that lout and have a good time."
If only it was as easy as she made it sound Every night she was haunted by dreams of the both of them making frantic love behind her back. And how many others had there been. She dismissed the thought.
Then left and shoped a little longer until Laura found the shoes she was looking for. Jean thought they were much too high and flashy but Laura had different tastes. They decided to take in a movie.
It was a love story entitled, "About Mrs. Allison," and it was about a lonely middle-aged woman who falls in love with an airplane pilot during World War Two. She is happy for the first time in her life. Then the war ends and she is in Times Square during the celebration. She is celebrating like everyone else until she reads on the giant overhead Marquee that her husband has died in action.
It was a very sad movie and Jean was annoyed that they had seen it. She had wanted to go see, "The Times They Are A Changin' " with Charles Ranson. It was true that the movie had left Jean very depressed.
She got home around eleven and David was already asleep. She checked in on him. He was having a tough time adjusting to the situation. He wasn't eating well and he looked to her more and more for advice. He missed his father too.
She went to the bathroom and did her ablutions before retiring for bed and then put on her flannel nightgown. She snuggled underneath the covers and warmed herself between the sheets.
She thought about Laura and what she had said about being business-like with one's emotions and she couldn't buy it. The picture of her husband and her lover flashed through her head and her clitoris tingled.
She thought to herself that Robert and the blond were probably making passionate love right this very minute. His cruelty, still was unfathomable to her. Against her will she was still in love with him.
She wriggled underneath the covers and 'her flannel nightgown rubbed against her breasts. She imagined them all sweaty from their labors and their bodies glued to one another.
Laura was so blase about making it with just anyone who suited her needs. Jean's conscience could not permit sex without a sound relationship first. Still, her clitoris tingled more and more each day and she was becoming more introverted.
She tried to dismiss these thoughts from her mind but the will it took prevented her from dosing off. Finally she succumbed to sleep only when the images were freely flashing through her brain. Her last thought was the infamous picture of Roberts passionate kiss of his lover.
She swooned into a deep sleep that offered no respite from her tortured psychological state. Instead, now that consciousness was asleep, her worst fantasies sprung from the hidden dungeons of her unconscious. She dreamt that Robert and the blond were in the hotel and they were making love like wild beasts. He was furiously fucking her and beating her body around and she was asking for more. In fact, she was begging him to treat her roughly.
"Oh love, call me dirty names and treat me like the lowest whore in creation."
"Dirty, son of a bitchen cunt, whore!"
"Oh."
He thrust into her with powerful strokes of his sturdy member. She begged for more and he called her a tramp and harlot. The woman clearly enjoyed being called that for she panted at each slanderous name.
"Fuck me harder," she insisted.
"I'll ram it down your throat."
"Oh, yes. Beat me."
He grabbed her ample breasts and squeezed them tightly. She moaned in pleasure and pulled him to her and feverishly scratched his back with her long, sharp fingernails.
Then without warning he pulled off her and they changed positions. They were fucking like dogs now with her on the bottom and he laying into her with his powerful torso.
She reached underneath him and cupped his balls in his hand to draw him closer to her. He came all the way out with his cock and shoved it back in to the hilt.
She responded by bracing her hands and bucking backwards to meet his thrusts with her own rhythms. She was panting and raving at his violations, and she told him to slap her thighs and make them red.
He did and she moved faster to meet his rthudding pelvis. She still had his hands on his balls. Suddenly Jean's consciousness sprung to attention and she was awake. Her body was covered in sweat.
What was happening to her? This was insane. She was dreaming of her husband and another woman who was beseeching him to beat her into submission. The idea revolted her and she ran to the bathroom to throw up.
She felt a little better after that and went and sat on the bed. She turned on the light and felt her flannel gown. It was wet from sweat but she was warm and it wasn't so bad. She was exhausted from her wretching and fell backwards and went immediately back to sleep.
Her mind drifted to the same scene as before. The were fucking like mad and she was exhorting him on. Unconsciously a finger went down to Jean's vagina and sought out the clitoris through the wet fabric. The action brought her back to her senses and she was awake.
What did it all mean, she tried to figure out. Was she enjoying the idea of her husband's lover being beaten by him? Or was she thrilled by the fact that the woman was getting off on the beating. Her mind was a maze of conflicting fellings and she had images of herself taking her place.
She thought of Robert fucking her from the back like that and slapping her ass. She imagined herself liking it and pushing into him hard. Her finger slipped to her clit and started dilating it. This time she kept it there and continued her thought.
"Fuck me, Robert, fuck me as hard as you can," she said.
"Move your ass you little slut."
"Yes, that's it. Call me dirty names." He slammed her with his hands and prick and she loved every minute of it. There was a delicious sensation in her cunt and she pulled her gown above her waist and placed a finger into her gash. She pumped it and thought of being manhandled by her husband.
She raised her legs wide and for a moment a pang of conscience made her look at herself from a distance and she stopped what she was doing. She took her finger out and tried to calm herself but it was no use. Flashes of Robert fucking her continued to flash through her brain.
She relented to her urge and put her finger back in and rised her legs to spread her gash wide. She hushed a sigh of delight and beat her finger in and out of its opening. She thought of Robert's dick in her cunt and then she thought of him fucking his blond lover.
Both thoughts fused in her mind and the picture of the three of them fucking rose to conscious attention. She imagined them both sucking on his cock, alternatingly licking their tongues on his large shaft. Then a shower of come washed their faces and they kissed one another with his wet sperm dangling from their lips.
Then she imagined Robert on top of her with his cock in her pussy while the blond licked his balls and pushed him into her with her hands. She passionately kissed him as he rammed her and she forced her tits into his mouth.
On the bed her body writhed and now she stuck two fingers in her wet vagina and vigorously pumped them in and out. With her other hand she played with a nipple, and she raised her ass higher.
She thought of her husband watching both she and the blond making lesbian love. They were in a sixty-nine position. Jean spread her lips and tongued her clit while sitting her open cunt on the woman's face. She sat on her and rubbed her pussy on it while she licked the girl's clit.
Three fingers plunged into her cunt as he imaged Robert fucking her dog style while the whore sucked her clit. She held her tits in her hands as his cock pelted her insides and the girl's tongue feverishly worked on her clit.
Once again the image changed and now she and her husband were beating the blond who was loving it immensely. She took advantage of the girl because she had stolen her husband and enjoyed teaching her a lesson. She lay on her back while Jean held her legs open and squeezed her tits and Robert fucked her asshole and slapped her thighs and scratched her clit.
Jean's fingers ran in and out of her gaping cunt and she stuck her ass up and forced her pelvis into her pumping hand. She felt around with the other and squeezed and patted the bulbous globes of her ass.
Now the image was of her and Robert all by themselves making love' on the small island they had found one day while out sailing. She remembered how he had been especially affectionate and had kissed her passionately as first step in a long foreplay.
She always liked being brought to intensity over a long moment and didn't like everything to happen quickly in the act of sex. When he cared her husband could be very good at this and it was one of the things she loved him for.
He rubbed his hand over her cunt and breasts and gently massaged her stomach. He kissed her on the neck and face and ran his tongue down to her breasts and mouthed her pert nipples.
He stayed there sucking both nipples until they were both hard and inflamed and then kissed her belly. He open her cunt with his hands and flicked at her clitoris and she breathed in ecstasy.
On the bed she was hypnotized by the glorious moment as it hovered in her brain. She took a hand and raised her breast to her mouth and darted her tongue on her nipple.
Robert went around to her front keeping his tongue on her clit and placing his head directing in front of her open pussy. Her tongued the clit and pushed his face onto the lips. She came.
"Oh, Robert. I'm coming. Aaah. It's so good."
She pushed her fingers into her gash with great force and bumped her clit with every blow. In her head Robert was mounting her and she felt his cock pierce her womb and bump against the back. Robert's cock and her plunging fingers were one and the same in her fevered state.
Robert plunged deeper and the first wave of orgasm hit her. She pushed into his cock while her fingers banged into her pussy. He started to come and she felt his warm bath mushroom in her body. Her fingers darted in and out and she let out a gasp as her orgasm grew in intensity.
She grabbed her tit and squeezed it tightly and her last plunge left her fingers embedded in her snatch. She closed her eyes and her breath rushed out as the last wave hit her body and the image of Robert's fucking released its final thrill. She relaxed onto the bed and with rasping breath.
She fell back to sleep for a short moment until the chill from her sweaty frame snapped her back to. She pulled her gown into place and stood up. She went to get a towel and dry herself off.
All this she did unconsciously for fear of thinking about what had just occurred. She busied her self re-arranging the bed as her conscience forced itself to the surface.
She began to feel ashamed for what she had just done. She imagined David catching her doing it and her cheeks blushed from embarrassment. Then the memory of what she had fantasized hit her.
She was afraid now also. She had not thought herself capable of such sordid desires. But these were her fantasies and no others, that was the toughest pill for her to accept.
She felt dirty and vile and had to stop herself from whimpering like a frightened child. She fought to keep her equilibrium and went downstairs to the kitchen to get something to drink.
She poured herself a small glass of milk and remembered the time when their son had first been born and Robert had been so loving and proud. Now he was gone and with someone else and she was left alone to mull over the past with a hopeless future in sight.
She finished the last of the milk. Her arms and legs were sweaty and she drifted back to the moment of her lustful action. She had responded to her own touch with a professionalism she previously thought beyond her knowledge.
She had plunged her fingers deep within herself while thinking of perverted scenes with herself and her husband's lover. The meaning escaped her. Was there something wrong with her?
Was it natural to feel and think these kind of events. Did they happen in the real world? She was lost in a maze of conflicting feelings and emotions and accidentally put the empty glass into the refrigerator. Then she closed the door and went back to bed.
But her dreams were filled with demons and monsters from another world. They were like problems that haunted her whever she might ry to escape. Once she succeeded in losing the beast in a crowd of people. But no sooner did she breath a sigh of relief then it attacked her from overhead and gobbled her up and swallowed her down its throat.
She erased it from her sleeping mind and this thime it was a dream of hell and the devil himself prodding her with a pitchfork. She tried to get a good look at his face but it was hidden in shadow. Finally a ray from a burning flame captured his head and she could see the face through the red haze.
The picture of that face bolted her up from the bed and she shook herself awake so she wouldn't fall back to sleep and see it again. Her gown was soaked and the first light of day creeped through the window.