Chapter 5

For the remainder of the week they hardly spoke; in fact, Jill stayed in her bedroom most of the time he was home and openly avoided even casual conversation. On Thursday he got ready to leave for the historical conference where he was going to present his paper.

"I have a lecture at nine and I will be leaving right afterward," he said at the breakfast table. "So I'll pack a suitcase now."

She only nodded. In reality she was happy that he was going to be gone for the long weekend. She did not know what she would do with herself, but it would be a welcome relief to get the strain of having to be around him lifted from her. He went to the bedroom, got out his suitcase, and methodically and silently got ready to depart. She wandered through the lonely house: there was nothing to do. She could be a good little wife, she thought sarcastically, and wash the windows; she could get out in the yard and mess around with John's rose bushes. But then old lecherous Dr. Dale might come along to gape at her.

"My God!" she cried out. She had completely forgotten old Dale and his sinister plot the other night. "He knows John will be leaving. Oh, my God ..."

Panic struck her; she rushed through the house to the bedroom. She thought first that she must tell John about Dr. Dale, about the dirty little scene the other night. No, she knew she could never bring herself to tell him-it would tear up John's career, it would bring an open breach, and she would be the cause of it. She knew that deep down John would blame her. She stopped short at the door and bit her lip nervously.

"What is it?" he asked. "Jill, is something wrong?"

"No," she mumbled. "I'm all right."

He snapped his suitcase closed and walked to her. Now his expression was clear, even sympathetic. Maybe he was beginning to see through things. She didn't know what to do. She simply tried to look away, to hide her pained expression.

"Jill, what is it?"

"Oh, John," she cried. "I think I'll go crazy if I have to stay in this house alone."

He reached for her; she hesitated. And then she was standing with her arms about him, sobbing. He comforted her silently for a long while with his broad arms about her. Slowly he drew her face up and kissed her lips tenderly. She was crying now unashamedly.

"Darling," he said. "I'm so sorry. I know you have been under a terrible stress, and I haven't helped at all. I would ask you to come with me, but I think that would even be worse for you. It's a bitch of a thing really, those old boring papers and meetings. But I've got an idea. Why don't you let me call the airport and make reservations for you to go home for the weekend. I know you would enjoy seeing all your old friends."

"Oh, John, do you really think it would be all right?"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes, I really would. Anything. I just can't bear to think of staying here alone for four days."

"Then I'll call right now. Do you think you can be ready to leave this afternoon? I'll get you the first afternoon flight."

"Oh, John, thank you."

He went to the telephone and called the terminal; later he came back and told her that he had arranged a flight for late that afternoon. "You can get a taxi, and you'll be in the city by midnight. Perhaps you'd better call someone to meet you. And the return flight is Sunday morning ... so it will work out just perfectly."

Strangely then the mood of depression had been snapped, but still underneath it all was the same tendril problem. He picked up his bag and walked to the door. He paused a minute, looked at her, and put the case down. In a moment he was back at her side, embracing her again. He lifted her face and gave her a very tender kiss.

"Jill," he said seriously. "Maybe this will all work out. I truly want it to."

"So do I, John."

"Maybe this trip will be good for both of us. Maybe a few days will give us a little time ... to settle a few things ... in our minds. I'll see you Sunday."

"John," she called. "Thank you."

Not a sense of well being, but something akin to relief held her now. Throughout the morning she went about the house in a mellow dream. Perhaps it was John's extra consideration that now uplifted her-she was not sure, for whenever she thought of him she remembered the weeks and months of loneliness. Occasionally the thought of Phil came into her brain and she tried to cancel it out. "That is over," she said to herself. "It simply is ended." But still she couldn't rid herself of lingering emotions; she felt again his urgent body pressing hers down, she experienced the mystical release of their bodies suspended in fulfillment. It was too much, too much. "I'll think about that later," she said, getting her bags out to pack. "There will be an answer .,. later ... right now I'm just getting away from it all."

At noon she found that she wasn't hungry. She fixed herself a Scotch and water to stave off any lingering anxieties. Her bags were all packed and by the door; she had written the taxi-cab number on the small blackboard in the kitchen. All was ready. She sat down, put on a record, and sipped her drink leisurely. There were still two hours to kill before time for the flight.

Finishing the drink, and feeling just a bit tipsy because she had not eaten all day, she impulsively picked up the phone and dialed Phil's number. It wasn't until she heard his voice that she realized she had actually called him. He answered again, quizzically, and finally she spoke.

"Hello, Phil," she almost whispered.

"Jill, is that you? Jill? Baby?"

"It's me, darling. I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm going away this afternoon."

"You're going away? You're not!"

"Wait, darling," she managed a smile to herself. "It's only for a few days. John's gone to that convention and he suggested I go home for a few days. I'll be back Sunday."

"Oh," he sighed. "You scared me for a minute. I thought you meant for good. I don't know what I'd do if you went away, baby."

"You're sweet."

"So are you baby. Oh, wow. Jesus, I'd like to see you right now."

"Wasn't the other night enough?" she teased.

"Never enough, baby. I'm crazy about you, don't you know that?"

"Phil, when I get back we've got to have a talk. Phil, I think what we're doing is wrong. Phil, I think we've got to stop seeing each other."

"Don't talk like that," he said morosely. "I couldn't take that, baby, I just couldn't."

"But it is wrong, Phil. We both know it. Oh, it's too much, darling. It's too beautiful. I'm not good for you. I'm older than you and I'm married and I'm just messing up your life. Phil, darling..."

"Jill, promise me that you won't think about it until you get back. Will you promise? Promise me that you'll see me as soon as you can. Babe, we can work it out, please."

"I promise. You're a wonderful person. You make me feel so good. Just hearing you is enough."

"Jill, baby ... don't go ... come to me instead."

"I can't, Phil. I wish with all my heart I could, but I can't. But thank you for wanting me.

"Will I see you again?"

"Yes. Goodbye darling."

She felt both elated and melancholy after she talked to him. She fixed another Scotch and drank it more rapidly. It was still more than an hour until her flight, and she could find nothing to do but think. It all seemed so hopeless but she knew she had to see Phil again.

The drinking began to take its toll of her. She got up and really discovered how inebriated she was getting. "Wow, can't stand uppp," she lisped. She tried to walk to the phone and had to hold onto the walls. "Hump, no more booze," she giggled. "What I need is hot coffee, got to sober up a little. Wife of history professor looped on a plane. Wow, that would be great!

What I need is hot coffee ... damn it all, what I need is that beautiful body of his ... Phil, darling ... I just love the way he calls me baby ... oh, Jesus..."

Leaves were falling down in the front yard; she stood at the window a minute and looked at the clusters of reds and burnt oranges melting down in her dizzy gaze. "That's what it is," she murmured. "You spend all your time getting enough nourishment in you to be full, complete, and then you get lifted off the branches ... and all you know is one brief little ride down ... damn it, damn it, just to be a bright color is not enough, not enough."

She thought she heard the fallen leaves stir. She paused a minute to listen, but then she knew it was getting time to call the cab. Then she thought she heard a tapping at the back door. She went into the kitchen and saw the door opening inward very slowly.

"No, no!" she shrieked.

"Don't do that!" a voice replied sternly.

And then he was inside, and she felt utterly trapped. Dr. Dale waited a moment as if to consider what he might do if she screamed or made violent protest. Then she slumped against the wall. He was smiling.

"Jill, Mrs. Simmons, well, here we are."

She stood against the wall with her eyes closed; a flush went through her whole body, like dizzy flashbacks. It was just too much, she kept saying over and over, just too much. From the back of her dulled brain she heard a voice warning her to get a grip on herself. She opened her eyes again. It was just a silly old man indulging in one of his pet perversions of picking on defenseless young women.

"Shall we continue our little chat of a few days ago?" he said serenely now, coming toward her. "I don't really frighten you now, do I Jill?"

"No, you don't frighten me. You just make me feel all creepy. Look, Dr. Dale, I've got a plane to catch."

"Tut tut, there are many flights," he laughed, reaching out. "I know John left this morning, so surely you're not going with him. What have you got schemed up in that pretty little head of yours, Mrs. Simmons? You're not off on some amorous tryst with that Phil Evans fellow, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm going home for the weekend. If you'll kindly leave me alone..."

"Well now, you wouldn't want certain things to come to your husband's attention, now would you?"

He reached out again and touched her skin; she pulled the arm away; he reached further and jostled her breast and she recoiled as though stung by an adder. He merely laughed and cupped the firm object with his entire hand.

"You are so absolutely lovely," he seemed to drool. "So sensual and vital. My dear, passion just pours off you ..."

At that she laughed out loud and turned away. "That's the corniest thing I've ever heard," she tried to swagger out the bluff.

"Why, Mrs. Simmons!" he exclaimed. "I do believe you've been drinking! And in the middle of the day! I do believe you are actually inebriated! How lovely!"

Wherever she went he followed, drooling. And actually the drinks she consumed had now taken the edge off her fear of him; under other conditions this might have been disgustingly quaint to her, but now she only thought of getting rid of him conveniently, without causing a large scene. She felt her mind working a bit more smoothly now: how to get rid of this old lecherous devil? Hell, she could handle him; any woman could handle any man if she knew what the game was, and she figured dizzily now that the game was touch-and-tease.

"Yes, Dr. Dale, I've had a little drink," she said coyly. "Would you like me to fix you one? I have a little time before the flight."

"No, my dear, I don't drink. Liquor, that is. I take a different kind of nectar. For instance..."

He came up behind her and caught her off guard for a moment. His old arms went around her and grasped both her breasts and held her while his hot breath came down on her neck. He bit firmly into her skin and ran a flaccid tongue along the base of the neck, sending a spooky chill down her spine. His hands worked and worked on her boobs, and he was trying to turn her around.

"Whoa, you sly devil," she continued the tease. "You are naughty and I'll have to keep my distance now. Just think, is that the way for a sweet old, kindly professor to act?"

"You're damn right!" he growled. She could tell he was heating up, and now she knew she had to try another tact. Thinking that he was all bluff, she decided to make a frontal attack. It was games that these old geezers wanted to play. As a secretary she had had some experience with this type-the outwardly sedate older business executives, who in private liked to pinch their young secretaries, put their arms around them in the private office, run their hands over the bodies of the juicy young girls.

"You know, you're kind of cute," she smiled coyly. "Why can't we be nice friends?"

"Aha! I knew you had it in you, Mrs. Simmons. That's exactly what I had in mind. So, be friendly..."

He tried a frontal attack and she let herself be pulled into his arms. He was pressing his body against her hard and trying to move them backward to the couch. His hands rubbed up and down her back, up under the blouse to the flesh of her back, down under the skirt to cup her round buttocks hard. "Like that?" she tried to giggle.

"That's not all I like, you little vixen!"

"Oh, wow, I've never been called a vixen before. You are just full of charming old expressions, Dr. Dale."

"I'm full of many things," he laughed gruffly, pawing at her blouse in an attempt to get it off. She eluded him the first time but his hands were back immediately, and before she knew it her blouse was open down the front and he was ripping at the bra. My God, what do I do? she asked herself desperately. Still thinking it was a bluff, she knew she had to keep him occupied until she could make an escape. Letting the old coot see her tits wouldn't matter that damn much; she would lead him along, bring him up to a point, and then that would end it; she was sure he couldn't do much but leer and paw around anyway.

"Don't pull like that, please," she implored. "Ill unsnap it."

She reached around, while pushing his hands away, and undid the bra, and then she stepped away in a mock pose for him to view her naked breasts. A cool shaft of air made her shiver, giving the appearance of heightened emotion. The nipples became very erect. She just looked at him and watched him stare at her boobs hungrily.

"Yes, yes, just as I imagined," he nodded, his eyes burning hotly into her. "Large and firm and perfectly pointed ... they are simply classical, my dear. Such lovely breasts I haven't perused since my sabbatical to Sweden a few years back. You are like those beautiful blonde girls of Sweden, my dear. Tall and strong but thoroughly feminine ... and the essence of a man's desire."

With that he rushed her. Being off balance, she caught the brunt of his attack; he pushed her over onto the couch and his mouth went immediately to the tossing mounds. His hands cupped them up tight and his teeth bit harshly at the tips. She tried vainly to heave him off her, but his strength was amazing and she was weakened in resistance by the strong drink. His hands went about her and tried to pull the skirt down; now one of the grubby paws was under her ass and feeling in the hair of her anus; she shifted about and tried to fight him any way she knew how, but he obviously thought she was playing instead and her urgings simply passed for response.

"No, no," she stuttered.

"Yes, oh yes."

Now his lecherous fingers were digging into her cunt, trying to tear through the panties; she felt the long fingers plunging further down, scraping the walls of her liquid love canal. He had one hand at her ass and another at her cunt, holding her box in the vise, while he worked his horny head furiously upon her jutting tits. She was pinned down like a Saracen on a lance.

"No, God no!" she shrieked.

"Come on, damn it," he grunted. "You know you like it. All women like it! You won't admit it, darling little Jill, but you're getting hot as hell. That husband can't satisfy you, and that young punk wasn't enough. I know you, little bitch. You were made to fuck and you live to fuck! I can do anything I want to you and you'll love it. Just because I'm older doesn't turn you off-it just turns you on more. I'm old, yes, damn you, I'm old, but I know how to handle a hot bitch like you! I've had a thousand women in my life and not a one has been disappointed! I'm old, damn you, but I'm strong! I'm not flabby like most young men-I'm lean and hard and I can outrun men half my age! I can do a hundred push-ups and not take a deep breath! And I can fuck the eyes off any bitch like you!"

"Heigh ho Tarzan!" she tried to taunt him with insult. She realized that he was trying to stimulate her, a ruse of old men, by cutting it all down to the grimy grunts of animals rutting away at each other. It always turned her off- but strangely she felt no fear of him even as he indulged in his ranting. She just wanted his big old body off hers-he was despicable, and he would have been the same if he were twenty.

"You want me to fuck you, bitch!" he kept it up.

"I just want you to leave me alone," she muttered.

"Don't give me that, bitch! Your pussy is as creamy as a gravy bowl!"

"If you think I'm going to let you fuck me, you're out of your gourd!" she snapped angrily.

Her anger only served to urge him on. Now he was ripping her panties all the way off, tearing them in shreds as he yanked. Harshly he tried to pull her legs apart but she held them together sternly. To throw her off guard he snaked a finger up under her ass and lodged it quickly in her anus, causing her to hunch upward in pain. Thrown off momentarily, she was unable then to keep him from spreading her legs wide apart. He was gaping down into her pussy then, literally foaming at the mouth over this blond treasure.

"Now, there it is!" he barked out. "God, that's the seat of it all! Look at that red meat there! All that blond hair and those lovely lips just aching to be mauled! Yes, that little quim could take all the horns of the world on and not twitch! But look at it twitch! Don't tell me you don't want it now, lady!"

She feared now that he would become violent; there was no way to figure these old savages. As he pawed over her, his own crotch came in contact with one of her flailing arms; she felt the still-soft phallus, and only that served to still her rising fears. It was true then that he was the pawing type who could never get down to the hard core of erection. She was trapped, pinned down, and her wits told her to bear it out until she could maneuver him away.

"I'm going to eat that red meat!" he balled. "I'm going to eat the pussy of the most beautiful cunt in the world! And it's just waiting for me!"

"Oh, God, please stop! If you have any feelings whatsoever, Dr. Dale, please let me go!"

"Let you go? Why, damn you, whore, you'd beg for crumbs at a feast! Women! The devil take them and their insane logic! I'll let you go down!"

He was pulling her down, splaying her ripe belly with his hands, running his fingers freely into her cunt and feeling the abundant juice of her cunt walls. Her legs were spread far apart and his hands were pulling them wider; he was so damn agile, so fast, and she was drugged by the booze just enough to offer only feeble resistance. He worked his slobbering mouth down, lathering her body as he went. He crossed the vibrant skin time and again with his moist tongue; she felt the hot object at her cunt hair, felt it flash back up to her stomach and into the navel. She shuddered once and hated the feeling she was now getting. Finally he pushed his head down onto the warm-wet love hole.

"I'm going to eat it up!" he bellowed.

And his lips touched her pussy lips! His tongue darted through the opening lips and pronged against the hard little clitoris; the tongue moved all around, became a flat layer of leather. He was trying to wrap her legs around his neck as he ground his head hard now into the hot wet spot She beat at his head with her fists, but he only took that as part of the wildness of the act. Futilely she beat at his head and shoulders but he pronged on deeper with his working tongue. Now he made huge slurping noises that completely repulsed her. But the inevitable massaging of the clitoris was breaking her defense down. Hating the building fever in her lathing pussy, she let her arms fall limp. Something began to quiver deep inside her, quivered in rhythm to the grinding of his mouth upon her pussy. His tongue took on a frenzied animation then, began gyrating from side to side in boiling heaving's.

"No, no, oh God no!" she screamed. But the inevitable was beginning to happen. His hands groped and pulled at her saucy ass; he darted a couple of fingers deep into her cunt and jabbed without mercy. On and On he sucked and slurped greedily until she felt a terrific jolt in her cunt walls and knew she had reached an unwanted but undeniable peak.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

She moaned for many long seconds until the hateful release spent itself. She opened her eyes then and saw his head feverishly working still on her pussy. It was over, it was horrible, but it was done. With one strong heave she levered him off her spread-eagled love spot, knocked him off completely. She rolled over, fell off the couch, and began to crawl away from him.

"Aha!" he bellowed. "There it goes! What a lovely ass you have, my dear! Ass of a goddess! See how it jiggles, see the fine line of fur up the middle as it wiggles! Here, it is saying, come to daddy! The port is open!"

She heard ruffling noises behind her but she did not look; tipsy though she still was, she was sober enough to know that this was the chance to escape. She dared not pause to stand up, but went on crawling now as fast away from him as she could. She heard more ruffling, stripping noises, as though someone were undressing in a hurry.

"Here I come into the port!" he called.

She crawled on desperately but knew she was making little progress; he was simply too agile, and in that she had fully underestimated him. Now she heard thudding noises and knew he was crawling quickly after her. He caught her at the entrance of the hallway. His grubby hands reached out and caught her flipping hips as she tried to pull away.

"Got it! Caught the little bird! Going to put a little salt on its tail now!"

"No, please! Oh, damn you, damn you!"

They were frozen isometrically for a moment, pulling hard against each other, and they were being trapped now in the animalistic position of coupling wolves. His arms went around her middle and she tried to throw them off. She felt something touching her buttocks, something grainy and thick. One of his hands was trying to lift her buttocks off the floor. Now his other arm circled her waist in a viselike grip; his large palm locked in the swell of her stomach.

"God, what a lovely hole you've got, Mrs. Simmons! It is even finer from behind!"

She lurched forward but was unable to break his grip; she strained hard and fell a bit forward, leaving her head down on the carpet and her rear stuck upward. His other hand jammed into her wet pussy then; he hurt her tremendously but kept trying to get the hand down into her cunt.

"My God, you're killing me!" she cried. "Yes, a maiden must die!" he barked. "Did you know that the Renaissance word for climax was die? Aha! All those bawdy ballads about maidens dying! So, my dear, you shall die! I will try to make you die!"

The thick grainy things that she had felt was pressing against her ass again; he had her trapped in this new position now and it was impossible to move. The grainy thing was poking and poking around on her bottom. His fingers began to jab into her cunt again-two fingers went in deep, spread apart, and stretched her pussy wide. And then the grainy thing was poking inside her.

"No, no you don't!" she screamed. But she knew it was all the more futile for her protests. She knew that his cock was going into her pussy now, slowly, harder than she had imagined, sliding easily down into her love canyon. It was beginning to grow more and more; the thing felt even thicker and grainier than before and still on it came until she could feel it entering the lips of her womb.

"How about that, lovely one?" he called again. "It's a nice big long one, my dear. Feel it? Aren't you just dying to have more? Please, have more! I told you once before that you would be surprised. And that's not all either! It's not as hard as it can get. I doubt that you could take it like that."

The huge phallus continued its slow descent into her creamy love well; with each inch it seemed to expand a little bit more. Deep down in her womb now the head of it was throbbing incessantly, causing her to flinch for all the probing pain. She was about to split in two, she thought, and she began to moan and flinch all over; she tried to pull herself off it, but that only seemed to give him more direction.

"Now, there it is!" he said in a final lurch that caused inscrutable pain to envelope all her lower region. The huge cock was stuck fast in her body; he had locked his pelvis against her ass, and she could feel his tight balls mashed hard against her pussy.

"It's killing me!" she cried.

"Yes, good, good! Now you can die!"

He began humping hard then against her ass, pulling backward for support with his hand on her belly. He drew the cock out halfway and plunged it back in; he repeated the movement, adding fervor to each blow. Soon he was roaring blow upon blow down into her saturated love hole.

Her breath would not come; she felt completely full, fuller than any other time before; she felt her breath being jarred out of her with each fucking plunge of the huge pole. She knew she was about to suffocate. It was too late; she had played it all wrong; she had underestimated the old devil's power. The only thing to do was get it over with as soon as possible. She began to hunch backward in mock response, hoping to throw him off and get him to peak prematurely. Trick him, fool him, any way, she said to herself desperately.

"No you don't!" he snapped. "You don't fool me that way, bitch! I've got something else in store for you!"

Grasping her churning belly hard, he withdrew the obese tool and held her still. Now his hand was moiling at her pussy, rubbing the abundant love juice all around; and then the hand went to the other opening, massaged the anal place tenderly at first. And then he was putting a finger into the opening; he rammed the finger deep into her ass and pulled it out quickly. She screamed in pain. He repeated the action, using two fingers; the pain was not as bad the second time; he did it again; the hole was becoming overly lubricated.

"Now, the piece de resistance!" he barked.

Splaying open her ass, he put the head of his monstrous tool there and pushed a bit. Braces of shocking pain jolted through her entire body. He withdrew the cock and held her still another moment.

"Oh, God, no! Please, don't do that!" she begged.

Paying no mind, he splayed the hole open again with three fingers; again he brought the cock up to position; again he reared back with his pelvis and rammed the cock into the ass a good three inches. She let out another furious scream, but this time the pain had alleviated a bit. He held the cock in her ass for a long moment.

"That's enough!" she cried. "You've done it, so please, please take it out now! You've done what you really wanted to do to me, Dr. Dale! Oh, please, please ..."

"You're right," he moaned. His tone had suddenly changed. "My dear, you are right. That's what I wanted. I can't help it-it's like an obsession with me. I've done it. But please forgive me now, I can't help myself. I wish I could-oh how I wish I could-but now I can't help myself. I didn't intend to go this far."

Like a maniac then he began to fuck his pole deep into her ass; his grip on her body was that of a savage from some dark age. On and on the cock poured into the unnatural love canal. Welling up inside of her was the strangest mixture of blind rage and incarnate hysteria. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this, and the overwhelming madness of it all had no name.

"Forgive me, forgive me," he kept chanting as he churned against her ass, making the most sickening of flapping sounds. Way up in her the cock throbbed violently as it jerked back and forth; she felt it give a mighty heave, and then she could feel the waves of hot liquid pumping into her. Such strangeness gripped her that otherwise she might have thought herself in the throes of orgiastic frenzy; something snapped within herself and it was no longer pain, neither could she call it pleasure. She only knew in that blind moment that it was the strangest she had ever felt.

He fell away from her and the liquid dripped out and ran all over her pubic area and underneath to her stomach. He lay passive beside her, panting, groping for breath. He seemed now a very old man on the brink of physical collapse. One of these days, old man, she thought bitterly, you are going to kill yourself. It would be apt justice.

"Forgive me, forgive me," he whimpered.

"Just get out," she snapped. She crawled over to her clothes and tried to cover herself. In a few minutes he had got up and dressed himself again. He stood very contritely at the doorway, like a guilty little kid come to beg for mercy. She simply looked at him coldly.

"Please, Jill, forgive me," he asked.

"Just get out," she said.

"You wouldn't tell John, would you?"

"If you ever so much as come near me ..."

"Please, Mrs. Simmons."

"I mean it."