Chapter 3
It took Jack a few moments to come back down from his sexual high, but Marcia's recovery was much faster. She could barely wait for him to climb off her belly before she was dashing off the bed, scooping up her lingerie from the floor and making it to the bathroom on the run. Everything, including herself, had to get clean now ... and as quickly as possible.
As soon as she had her light blue finery soaking in gentle suds, Marcia ran a hot bubblebath for herself and stepped gratefully into it. She leaned her head back against an inflatable pillow and closed her eyes, trying as hard as she could to blot out the memory of what had just happened to her.
Jack didn't seem to care that she had escaped so quickly. He was already pulling on his pants and going downstairs to watch the news before dinner was served. She guessed he was used to her personal habits by now. Whatever he thought of them, he made no complaints. Who knows, Marcia though, maybe he's finally giving up the idea of making me over into an evil, dirty woman.
Working up a nice lather on her washcloth, Marcia pressed the cloth between her legs and began to vigorously rub her still swollen mound. She had felt this come dripping down between her legs when she was dashing into the tub and now it was probably mingling with the sudsy water. How filthy! She scrubbed harder down then, thinking she could wash the aftermath of sex away, remove the evidence from her body.
But her handwork was having a reverse effect. Since her pussy lips were still passionately swollen outward, the cloth was rubbing against her already sensitized clit and it was starting to vibrate again. She could feel small waves of pleasure wafting up from between her legs and all the way through her belly.
Before she realized what she was doing, Marcia rubbed all the harder, and sighed as the delicious sensations of self-induced pleasure began to turn her on. She never thought of something like this as masturbation, since her excuse was idly washing herself. Of course she would never actually play with o herself. That was for evil children and perverts. Nice ladies, normal ladies never did anything like that. Did they?
The sensual heat that had built so dangerously close to climax just a few minutes before was still hovering and she was faintly aware of the possibility of an orgasm now if she just kept on going the way she was a little longer. There was no man here now to stand smugly by and mock her while she made a fool of herself by submitting to animalistic gestures. No one to ridicule her for becoming flushed with pleasure and rocking her hips to and fro in the water while wave after wave of tingling delight passed from her clit area all the way up through her body.
Reality was dimming once more as she continued and she was up there teetering on the edge again. Oh, my God!! A warning suddenly flashed through her brain. She really was masturbating!!!!
Her pretty pink world suddenly came crashing down around her ears in the form of shame, and she quickly tugged her hand out from between her legs so that she could quickly wash the rest of her body and get out of that tub before she strayed into any more depravity.
Dinner wasn't even in the oven yet, and she had planned on a salad that took a bit of preparation. After that she would clear the table and defrost the refrigerator while she proofread the reports that she had brought home from the office. Jack would probably turn in early as he had a busy schedule the next day and she was half-way into dull paperback mystery, which with any luck would put her quickly to sleep.
About the best thing she could look forward to all night was the fact that Jack would probably be sexually satisfied and leave her alone when she came to bed later on. Drying herself carefully with the towel, she brushed her hair out, put on a pretty print lounging robe and went downstairs to try and be what she considered the perfect wife.
To her this meant wearing a continual smile, serving a delicious meal and seeing to it that Jack was in a comfortable and spotless environment. Hopefully this would all mean that he would make no further demands on her of any kind that night. She was developing one of her headaches, and she had that unnamed restless feeling in her body again. Even her hands were shaking and she put down a bottle of salad dressing just before it would have gone crashing to the kitchen floor.
Jack was always happy and content, never more relaxed than he was after sex. But she was usually a nervous wreck, and on this night even more so than the average. Lately, the period after each session was getting worse for her. She didn't know how much more her nerves would be able to stand before she had to seek professional help.
Maybe he was just asking too much of her sexually and she should try to convince him that they had to cut down. Why else would she be having such a nervous reaction to it all? If he loved her, then he would have to be a little more understanding and exercise some self-control. Marcia was sure that once he minimized his sexual demands, everything would be all right between them.
Only simple answers would work for her. She refused to get into the possible source of her hang-ups any deeper, although her husband did at times threaten having an affair with another woman, or worse yet a divorce. If she didn't get her head straight and start responding like what he called a normal woman, she was going to find herself sleeping alone.
Now Marcia knew that remark was intended as a threat, but the possibility of being the solitary figure in her bed really didn't bother her that much. Of course it had been years, back then when she was a virgin and didn't know anything different.
Was it such a big deal to nuzzle her soft face against a hairy, brawny chest and inhale the masculine odors of pipe tobacco and athletic heat? And what was so wonderful about having one hundred sixty-five pounds slamming up and down on top of her body while she was being riveted to the mattress with a hard shaft of throbbing flesh that would only fill her with oozing liquid and then leave her tense and disgusted with herself. Would she really miss sleeping snuggled against his warmth and waking up in the morning to find herself cuddled in his arms?
It took her a couple of seconds to come up with all the right answers, but Marcia was a master at accepting what she felt she must. Yes, she could survive just fine without him, and if her bed did get lonely, she could just get a stuffed toy to cuddle with.
Nodding her head in decision to herself as she puttered around the kitchen, Marcia scrubbed the sink out for the third time. Finally satisfied that it did after all sparkle, she washed the linoleum floor as she did every night once dinner was through and everything put away. She had been so deep in her own thoughts all during the meal that they had not passed more than three words between them above and beyond what concerned the meal itself. He usually made some crack about her keeping the kitchen so clean that open heart surgery could be performed in there, but tonight he hadn't even bothered. If their marriage was becoming something of a cold war, it was all right with her.
She had really married for the romantic notion of understanding and companionship in the first place. Maybe he would get so tired of their conflict over sex that he would actually go out and find some tramp of a woman who was willing to give him all he wanted physically and in the ways that he wanted it. As long as he left her alone on that level, what difference did it really make?
The difference was that she loved her man, and this was something she could not blot out as easily as she did her erotic desires. It would just kill her to learn that he was giving his body to another woman, even if she did have trouble wanting it for herself.
Marcia studied her reflection in the polished surface of the refrigerator. Looking back at her was a frightened woman. She couldn't bear to lose Jack, even if it turned out to be of her own doing.
Somehow, some way she had to work it all out for herself so that they could remain together in their marriage, and something told her that she better do it soon while there was still a marriage left to save. Marcia was smart enough to know that Jack's increasing complaisance could mean that he was losing interest, or even looking elsewhere when he was away from home, while she naively hung on to her dreams about putting it all right between them before any harm was done. It could already be a closed issue without her even knowing it. Didn't they always say that the wife was the last to know?
Marcia took her reports and her mystery into the living room instead of upstairs, thinking that Jack would get the message and not wait up for her. She was no longer doing this simply to avoid more sex. Now that she had finally convinced herself she must tackle her problem in some way, the dismayed woman needed time and distance on her side. Upstairs the situation was too often overwhelming.
Well, she thought as her eyes finally began to droop and she trudged wearily up the stairs, the night light is out up there, and tomorrow will be a spanking new day. When she opened her eyes in the morning she would begin the rest of her life with a fresh, open-minded approach and really take a good look at her inner self, her marriage and the way that others she respected handled their lives....
Sure she would! How many times had she made that promise already?