Chapter 11
The next morning, just before noon, the telephone rang. Markell had arranged that with his switchboard girl on Friday afternoon.
The three of them had been sitting in the living room, killing the morning in front of another blazing fire. Janet answered the telephone.
"It's for you," she said, handing the phone to Markell. "A girl from your office. Calling from New York."
"Must be trouble," Markell muttered.
He took the phone, spoke into it briefly. Across the room, Janet and Donovan were laughing over some joke. Markell exchanged a few words with the girl, then hung up. He walked over to join the other two.
"Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to be a lousy host today, people," he said with a shrug. "That was my secretary calling me. It seems there's been some stupid legal foul-up in a title closing, and I've got to go to the city right away."
"Can't it wait till Monday, Fred?" Janet asked.
"I wish it could," Markell said. "But it can't. If I'm not there by three o'clock this afternoon, they're going to void the contract. Which means forfeiture of all fees, surveying costs, the escrow account, and whatnot. I'll be out about five thousand, altogether. I don't have any choice but to go."
"Sounds messy," Donovan said.
"Messier than I like to think about," Markell replied.
Donovan chuckled. "Well, I guess Janet and I can hold the fort while you're away, Fred."
"Yes," Markell said. "The two of you will just have to manage without me. Play gin rummy, or something. Honeymoon bridge. It's a hell of a thing to do, skipping out on a weekend guest this way, but it can't be helped. You understand that, Jack."
"Of course. Naturally."
"How long will you be away?" Janet asked.
Markell shrugged. "The conference will last at least a couple of hours, as a rock bottom estimate. And then it'll take me about an hour or so to get back home.
Figure I'll be back here between six-thirty and seven o'clock. Probably no later than seven, and certainly no earlier than half past six. Wait dinner for me, will you?"
He studied their faces carefully as he spoke.
But Janet and Donovan seemed to be pitying him for having to go out into the wintery cold and engage in business shenanigans on a Saturday, when he could be home and comfortable by the fireside. But they were making no attempt to talk him out of going to the city. They seemed quite prepared to while away the next five or six hours without his presence.
He slipped into his warm winter coat. "I'm on my way," he announced.
"Want me to drive you down to the railway station, dear?" Janet asked.
"You won't need to. I'll walk."
"But there's snow on the ground."
"I don't mind. It isn't that much of a walk, you know. I'll survive." He waved cheerily at them. "See you at dinner time," he said. "Don't get into any mischief, now."
He left the house. It was a little past one o'clock, on a cold, blustery day. It was an eight-block walk to the station. He set out jauntily through the cold.
In the house, Janet and Jack Donovan stared at each other in surprise.
"He's gone," Janet said.
"I'll be damned. He just got up and left us here alone. I'll be goddamned."
Janet said, "Aren't you glad we didn't try anything last night? It was so risky then, and we would have been so afraid of getting caught that we wouldn't have enjoyed it. And now we have the whole afternoon together. Alone in front of the fire."
"Is it safe though?"
"Why shouldn't it be?"
"Maybe it's some kind of trick," Donovan said. "God, you're suspicious!"
"I'm having an affair with my friend's wife. It's the kind of situation that could blow up in my face at any second. I just think there might be a trick in it."
"There can't be," Janet said. "It was a genuine call. I recognized his secretary's voice."
"Even so-"
Janet laughed mockingly. "Please, Jack. You give my husband credit for much more deviousness than he really has. He's not all that Machiavellian, believe me."
They sat there in silence for a while.
Janet said, "Aren't you even going to kiss me, now that we're alone?"
Donovan's face was dark, troubled. "Wait," he said.
"Wait? For what,"
"Just wait. He's only been gone ten minutes."
"You think he's hiding in the bushes, spying on us," Janet asked lightly.
"I don't know He may come back, that's all He may decide he doesn't want to walk to the station after all. Eight blocks in the snow-"
"He's a good walker," Janet said. "He's probably at the station by now."
"Maybe he'll come back."
"God!" Janet exploded. "I never knew you were such an old maid, Jack. I thought you were big, bold, a brave seducer. And you sit there snivelling with tear."
Donovan scowled at her. "Listen," he said, "I'm in another man's house, and he's got every right to come back and blow my brains out if he catches me sleeping with you, and for all I know that's exactly what he plans to do."
Janet laughed. "Last night I was the cautious one, and you were all set for action Remember how you nagged me to come down to your room after he fell asleep?"
"That's different."
"How, different?"
"A sleeping husband's one thing. We know where he is and what he's doing But a husband out of the house-a husband who might come busting in at any second with a gun in his hand-"
"Don't be asinine. Fred's no cowboy."
"I'm not taking chances."
"God," Janet said. "You mean to say I'm going to sit here alone with you all afternoon and be a perfect lady for six hours or so? I'll go out of my mind, Jack. I'll crack up."
Donovan smiled. "It isn't that bad," he said. "At least let's give him a half hour or so. What time does the next train leave for New York, anyway?"
"Hold on I'll check the timetable." Janet went into the kitchen, returning a moment later. "There was a train at 1:06."
"He couldn't have made it. He didn't leave in time.
When's the next one."
"1:32," she said. "Ten minutes from now."
"Okay. Let's wait a little while. Let's give him a chance to get on the train and go."
They waited.
They had a couple of drinks. They had a couple more. The fire died down, and Donovan built it up again.
They waited some more.
Finally Donovan said, "All right. I guess it's safe. He isn't going to pop in and surprise us."
"Hooray I"
"Come here, baby."
"Hooray, hooray!" Janet said.
A moment later she was in his arms.
Their kiss was a deep, passionate one, doubly inflamed because of the long time they had spent in the house together, unable to go near one another. His tongue sank deep into her mouth, and his hands covered her breasts, squeezing them, savoring the high-peaked firmness of them.
He started to take her sweater off.
She put her hands over his, pulled them away. "No," she said. "Not here."
"Why not?"
"Ground floor. People could look in."
"Well draw the blinds."
"No. Let's go upstairs. The bedroom."
"Whatever you say," Donovan shrugged. They raced up the stairs. Janet maneuvered herself out in front, and got to the bedroom ahead of him. She flew in, went bouncing down on the bed.
"A whole afternoon together!" she cried joyfully. "A whole goddamn afternoon!"
"And we've already wasted half of it," he said.
"Stop grumbling You were the one who wanted to wait so long, remember?"
"Sure. Sure."
He began to undress her. Garment by garment, he stripped her, pausing to cover each newly exposed area of skin with kisses before going on to the next. Soon Janet trembled with excitement. She lay back, letting his capable hands work on her body She was nude, now. Her nipples were fully aroused, and there was eagerness in her body.
She undressed him, then.
Their clothes formed a double heap on the floor.
She locked her body against his. They kissed again, passionately, and slid tight against one another, and his hands went to her breasts, to her buttocks, her thighs.
They were in no hurry now. They caressed each other for a while, neither of them rushing on to the consummation of their passion. When they had been petting for a while, Janet felt restlessness come over her She left the bed, rose, walked nude to the bedroom window.
She stood by the open blinds, looking out. The bedroom faced back. There was the garage, and then emptiness, an undeveloped tract, so she had no need to cover herself. It was snow-white outside, but no new snow was falling.
Donovan came up behind her. He slid his hands over her breasts.
"Come back to bed," he murmured.
"Coax me. Beg me."
"The hell with that. I order you!"
She turned, and laughed at him. "Tough guy. A little while ago you were scared green Fred might bust in on you, but now you're the boss again."
"That's right. I'm the boss. And you watch out or I'll show you who calls the tune around here."
"Big shot!" she taunted him.
"I'm warning you," he said, breaking into a grin.
She stuck her tongue out at him. She put her thumbs in her ears and flapped her fingers at him.
"Okay, girlie," he said ominously. "You asked for it, and you're going to get it."
He reached out for her. She tried to dart away, but he was faster than she would have thought likely for such a big man, and he caught her by one wrist and drew her to him with ease. She struggled, but there was no escaping from his powerful grip.
He tossed her down on the bed, face down. And held her there. Janet kicked and thrashed, half in fun and half in annoyance, but she was unable to free herself.
"Now," he said resonantly. "Now you suffer, white slave! Now you experience torment! Now you quake in agony and terror!"
He lifted his hand high.
He brought it down, squarely across her exposed, upturned buttocks.
There was a loud whacking sound as hard palm connected with soft, quivering cheek. Janet yelped. Donovan laughed. He slapped her again.
"Hey, cut that out, Tarzan!"
"Me boss. You slave," he grunted. "Okay, I agree, but-"
Up went the open hand. And down. The flesh of her buttocks trembled as the slap landed. Up and down again. And again. And again.
He was hurting her. Janet felt tears flooding into her eyes as the spanking continued. And yet there was that strange mixture of pleasure and pain, again. Her fanny felt red hot, it hurt terrifically, and yet-and yet she didn't want him to stop. No. She wanted him to punish her, to turn her buttocks flaming red, to shower slap after slap on the bare, tender, upturned flesh.
He did.
He was breathing hard, practically grunting now, and it was no longer an act. His hand descended with the rhythm of a spanking machine. Janet turned and looked at him, and saw his face flushed with excitement, his nostrils flaring, and it seemed to her that never before had he been this aroused.
He pounded her buttocks brutally, fiercely, wildly. But then, after a moment, sanity seemed to return to him, and he paused, breathing hard.
"Am I hurting you, Janet?"
"Yes, but don't stop!"
"You enjoy it?"
"Yes! Yes!"
He rained blows down on her again. But now he varied his target, slapping her now on the back of her thighs, now on her buttocks, now in the small of her back. Each stinging slap brought new sensations of pleasure to her. There was a tightness in her throat, a throbbing in her. She lay face down, twisting and wriggling and pressing herself against the bedding.
Then he said hoarsely, "I want you, Janet. Now!"
"Of course."
She started to turn over. But, to her surprise, he held her in place.
"No," he said. "This way."
"I don't understand-"
"You want to experiment, don't your You want to know all the ways of love?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"All right, then," he said. "Trust me. Even if it hurts at first. Trust me."
His hands were on her now, and Janet felt him kneeling above her, felt him approaching her.
Then she caught her breath in surprise as she became aware of him at the portal of her body, and realized what he was going to do.
"Jack!" she cried out in fear.
The next instant he took her.
He drove himself with savage ferocity, and Janet let out a wail of pain in the first blazing moment and sent unbelievable, unendurable agony through her. But the first moment was the worst. Her nerves accommodated to the pain, and an instant later she shivered as pleasurable surges went through her entire frame.
His weight was on her. She drew herself up, rising to her knees, and she pressed back against him, driving him, gasping at the magnitude of the new, undreamed-of experience.
He clasped himself against her. He put his hands on her swaying, dangling breasts and gripped them tight.
Sweat drenched her. Strange new emotions were swirling through her dizzied brain. The tense circumstances of the entire weekend, with Jack and her husband both here, the mystery of his departure, the excitement of the spanking, the blazing pain of his taking her, all combined to build into a new, an overwhelming kind of ecstasy.
She gave herself to him with furious intensity. Again and again she pressed backward against him. The pain was fantastic, but the pleasure was far keener than anything she had known before. She had heard of this kind of love, had seen mention of it in oblique, mysterious ways, but she had never practiced it, had never even wanted to, had had only the faintest of curiosity about it, and now, as her entire body throbbed with passionate sensations, she was glad beyond all reckoning that she had given in, that she had surrendered this other virginity of hers to his, that she had been able to experience this incredible pinwheeling ecstasy.
"How is it?" he asked her, his voice choked wkfc passion.
"Marvelous! Marvelous!"
"Does it hurt?"
"Only a little. But it's so good, Jack. I can't tell you how good."
"I'm glad," he said.
He had one hand on her breasts, squeezing them, laying with the rock-hard nipples. The other hand traveled down the front of her body, and she felt him touching her, and she thought she would go out of her mind completely as pleasure reached her from three zones at once.
She gasped her way to one peak, and then another, and then a third. She closed her eyes, digging her hands into the pillow, practically shredding it, and crouched down, moving her body from side to side, swiveling and pivoting, and she wondered how long it could go on, how much more before the man imprisoned in her reached his fulfullment, how much more before her own brain burned out from an overload of ecstasy.
But Donovan seemed inexhaustible. Higher and higher they surged, higher, ever higher.
Janet experienced surge after surge of pleasure. She thought fleetingly of the women she knew, her friends, those placid wealthy suburban women, and wondered if any of them had ever known a tenth, a hundredth of this ecstasy in the years of their lives.
No, she thought.
This kind of pleasure was reserved for a special few. For the seekers, for the sinners.
She could hear Donovan whimpering, now. He was obviously at the limits of his endurance.
"Go ahead, my darling," she surged. "Go on! Don't hold back!"
He went rigid. The next moment, there was a new sensation, and she knew he had spent himself in a shudder of delight.
But still he moved, still he wanted to give her pleasure. And still Janet responded.
And then, suddenly, right in the middle of another climb to the peaks of delirious delight, Janet froze, and all passion left her.
She had heard the door open.
Someone had come into the room.