Chapter 5
"I'D probably be back at that same beer joint tomorrow afternoon," Bill said, lying on the bed with a sheet covering the bottom half of his huge hairy body.
Katherine hardly even looked at him. Tears of shame streamed from her eyes as she pulled her clothing over her beautiful, violated body.
It had betrayed her, somehow. That body she'd always kept so carefully under her control. In a blinding flash it had made a slave of her spirit, humbled her spirit with its hot grasping need and made her spirit yield to its unspeakable demands. The fact that she'd come here with this strange, uncouth man to this terrible place, the fact that she'd let his coarse hands use her luscious body, her most private and sacred parts, as playthings; the fact that she had committed adultery that should have been enough, terrible enough in itself. But she had liked it. She had screamed and begged for more, crazed out of her mind by the wanton sexual delirium. And when his body had demanded, hers had given. As the final proof of her degradation she'd yielded, fervently submitted even, to being fucked in the mouth by him after his penis was coated with the moist remains of their adulterous intercourse. She yielded to that revolting act just as Lys had, which only a day ago had so repulsed her, made her feel so pure and haughty. She'd given this stranger the same triumph over herself that she'd so perversely reveled in when watching her son use the young teenage girl's mouth as a receptacle for his cum. And in that act, the vision of Lys and Tom vivid in her mind as she so eagerly performed it, in the degradation and debasement, the relegation of every precept of decency to which she'd ever pretended, she achieved sexual climax.
And only then, after the madness had passed, had she come back to herself, seen the sickness and vileness of what she'd done.
"Hey, baby!" Bill said.
Bitterly she turned toward him, looked with deadened eyes at his brawny physique and stupid, grotesque face.
"That's no way to act. Didn't you enjoy it?
"Yes," she said without emotion. "I enjoyed it."
There was no reason to deny that. Even in all her guilt and self-repugnance she had to admit she'd enjoyed it. She'd enjoyed the obscenity of it, the degradation, the surrender of her morals. And even now, as she remembered that maddening wave of ecstasy, something in her body cried out for more. But she would never stoop to this again. She wouldn't yield to the flesh as she had today no matter how desperately it cried out to her.
"Well, let's see a little gratitude then. How 'bout tomorrow?"
"No. It's someone else I should be grateful to. I wasn't even thinking of you when we were doing it."
She saw the red of anger flood his face as she turned abruptly and went out the door.
Katherine didn't know how she was going to face her husband and son after what had happened. But it was the things she'd seen them doing as much as her guilt for her own action that made it difficult. Though she almost wanted to hate Tom for the thing she'd seen, she couldn't quite bring herself to that. She loved him, it seemed, even more dearly now. And the secret she held from him and knew she must keep from him, hung like an albatross about her neck, a horrible crushing, dragging weight. She had to contain the terrible knowledge that not only had he been betrayed by his girlfriend, whore that she was, but by his own father. And ultimately by his mother, Katherine, also. For how could a son look at his mother if he'd known of the terrible things she'd done today.
She'd gone by the service station and picked up the car, then driven aimlessly about the outskirts of town for almost an hour. It was dark by the time she pulled into the drive and started, as a doomed person toward the gallows, up the steps and into the lighted house.
The scene that greeted her in the den was not the somber one she'd expected, of silence and downcast eyes, currents of guilt and tension hanging in the air like a Web which trapped them. They were all three on the floor, Paul squatted like an Indian and Tom lounged on his side, head propped on an elbow, Lys stretched out on her belly to expose her taut rounded young buttocks that strained inside the tight levis. In the center of the triangle their bodies formed was a scrabble board. An ashtray had spilled on the rug and Katherine saw that they all three had drinks. They'd played almost all their letters and from the score tally Tom was keeping on the back of an old writing tablet, she saw that the game was very close. It was Paul's play and he made it even before he looked up to acknowledge her arrival.
"I had a flat," she said before he asked why she was late. "Two of them. As I was coming back from Albuquerque."
After she'd said that, she wondered why she'd bothered. Paul didn't seem worried about her, and he certainly had little excuse to question her whereabouts. And she hadn't planned to tell them anything. She hadn't even thought about the possible necessity of it. But something in her husband's manner had thrown her off guard. Instead of the sheepishness and guilt she'd expected, she sensed in his eyes an arrogance, an expression of triumph and pride. If he only knew, she thought, how she spent the day. It was Tom's go. Paul returned his attention to the board for a moment, then looked back at her.
"Lys cooked an early dinner." He shrugged. "Or late lunch."
"I've eaten," Katherine lied.
Tom made a play and Lys instantly giggled. Paul leaned over and consulted the score sheet.
"Play those three and you win, I guess."
She smiled at him in a way that made no attempt to cover up for what they'd done this morning. "Then I guess I win."
She picked up her last three letters in her hand; still concealing them, she looked up at Katherine with that same open warmth, of neither guilt or resentment, which had so vexed her even before she'd witnessed Lys and Tom in their lewd embrace. She extended her hand slowly to the board, down in the lower right corner, tracing along the word FAMILY spelled out on the bottom horizontal row. Then very slowly one at a time she dropped onto the last vertical row, that ran into FAMILY, the letters G, O, and R. Then she rearranged them to O, R, and G. ORGY, it spelled. At the end of FAMILY.
"Hey, that's pretty good!" exclaimed Tom.
With a sweep of the pen he drew a circle around Lys's initial on the score card. She was looking at Katherine again, her beautiful young face beaming with mischievous challenge. Paul's face flushed and he looked with extreme alarm at the wanton blonde with whom only this afternoon he'd reveled in adultery. Katherine stared in mute rage at the scrabble board for a moment, then turned and hurried out of the room.
Katherine went to her and Paul's bedroom and slipped out of her clothes and into her housecoat, then to the main bathroom and started the tub running with the hottest water she thought she could stand. Then she peeled off the coat and carefully surveyed her exquisite naked body in the full length mirror. It looked no worse for the wear. There was a faint scratch mark beneath one of her breasts, but Paul would never notice it. And if he did he would logically conclude she would have gotten it any number of ways besides the way she did. And she felt all right physically. Her breasts were a little sore from the truck driver's hard sucking at her nipples, and her rectal passage felt a little sore and stretched from the violation of his thumb and she could still feel the wetness of his sperm pooling up inside her. Oh God! Just thinking about it made her want to shudder. But within a couple of days, there would be nothing physical to remind her of her sin. She hoped themental and emotional scars would also be prompt in fading.
Almost half an hour of soaking in the hot bath made her feel nearly human again. Reluctantly she got out of the tub and dried off. As she stepped out of the bathroom she heard the engine of Tom's Volkswagen start. Then it pulled away from the house. When she got back to her bedroom she was surprised to find Paul sitting on the bed with a drink in his hand.
"Tom and Lys went for a ride."
"I bet they did," she said sarcastically. She started to take off her housecoat, then decided to wait a minute or two and see if her dear unfaithful husband would go somewhere else for his nightcap.
"Why do you say that?" he asked after a moment.
"No reason."
He looked at her with eyes searching and intent. Yet she saw they were also full of desire. She wondered how, after what she'd seen this afternoon, he could want more. She'd have thought the little bitch would have been able to satisfy him.
"You don't approve."
"Driving around with a bed in their car?" she gasped, her voice almost cracking. "Living openly in fornication, and neither one of them have said a word about marriage being even the last thing in their minds."
"Do you think that would help?"
Something in the question or in the way he said it took her back. "Now just what do you mean by that?"
"I mean do you think that would help the way you feel about Tom having a woman? Just a little wedding ring?"
"Oh God, Paul! You don't understand!" she spat.
"Truth strikes home again."
Paul tossed his drink down and stood up. The rage passed through her like a blurring wave of inebriation, half blinding her with the tears that rushed to her eyes. The room seemed to turn and she thought she was going to fall. She wanted to scream at him, every lewd detail of everything that truck driver she had picked up had done to her this afternoon, and the obscene thing she'd done for him.
But she didn't. She said nothing. After a moment that seemed an eternity she pulled the robe over her head and tossed it to the floor, exposing for him her satiny, naked body, and walked with eyes still almost closed toward the bed, as if entranced and as if she'd forgotten he was even there so that when he grabbed her, spinning her to face him and hugging her naked body to his, mashing her bared breasts with his chest, running his hands forcefully down her back, across her flaring buttocks, she was almost stunned.
"I want to make love to you tonight, Katherine."
She shook her head, but the motion of it seemed not so much a negative as a wildly sexual gesture, as she'd thrashed her head from side to side earlier today. She felt his hand part her naked buttock cheeks, a faint stinging pain as he moved his finger tip across her sore anus, then a flutter of longing as he sought out the smooth soft lips of her vagina. She sobbed slowly, pushing her body against him, trembling as his hand ignited a trembling passion.
"But not like we've always done it," he croaked in her ear. "I want to really ... "
His voice faded. He couldn't find the words. Instead he kissed her passionately on the lips, thrusting his tongue swiftly into her mouth, groping with it over her own tongue and teeth and palate, back toward her throat. He wormed his finger deeper into her vagina, spreading the eagerly seeping moisture that had rushed down to lubricate its invaded velvet walls. Through his trousers his cock brushed her thighs as it swelled toward its warm hot goal.
She sobbed, wantonly responding to the kiss as she felt the familiar yearnings well in her body. Then suddenly she made a guttural sound of protest, drew her lips from his and wriggled out of his grasp. She backed away, sobbing from the pangs of frustration that rushed swiftly upon her, the body crying again as it had cried out before its triumph earlier today; yet now, as badly as she wanted to, she was unable to yield.
Paul looked at her incredulously and shrugged helplessly, unable to form on his lips the question as to what was wrong with her.
At last he managed to gasp: "Katherine?"
"Haven't you had enough for one day?" she said. Immediately, though she didn't know why, she regretted saying it.
She watched the sinking in his eyes, saw him half turn, then look back sheepishly.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Haven't you had enough to drink for one day?" she blurted.
"What?"
"Aren't you drunk enough for one day?"
She was talking insanely and she thought it must sound as though she'd lost her mind. But for some reason she couldn't follow through on the question she'd immediately begun. She didn't want that in the open. She didn't want to enter that, which she sensed would become as an inquiry that would bring one by one each of the family secrets into the open. So instead: her insane sounding diversion. And it seemed to be working. She saw the confused relief in his eyes as he decided his original fear of the meaning of her first question had been founded not on the knowledge on her part, but guilt on his own. At last the arrogance he'd displayed rallied itself.
"No. I haven't had enough to drink. But before this night's over I goddam well will."
He stared angrily at her face, let his eyes drop for just a moment to the lovely black curls of pubic hair between her thighs. Then he turned away and stalked out of the room.
Sobbing, the body over which she'd triumphed taking its evil vengeance in the lashing frustration which tore at her loins like so many starved rats, Katherine fell heavily on the bed.
"This is where I got my first piece of ass," Tom said, gazing off the edge of the bluff before them to the rolling quilt of lights beneath.
Lys squirmed on the seat beside him. The dashlight of the Volkswagen alluringly illuminated her body in a contrast of lights and shadows. They were both naked, but they hadn't gotten into the bed Tom had built in the back before they started their trip.
"Tell me about her," she said. "Was she pretty?"
"In the dark after four bottles of beer."
"Was she a wicked woman of the world? A bar room hussy who recognized your hidden talents?"
"No. She was a cheer leader on the pep squad and I'd just caught the pass that won the district championship."
"You'll have to show me your scrapbook," she said, reaching down and beginning to stroke his already hardened young cock.
"She has it. Or at least I hope she hasn't burned it or used it for toilet paper by now. I'd like to think of that scrapbook as the one, dark secret she still keeps from her husband."
"She was married?"
"She is now." His voice was getting shaky. She'd entwined her hand around his cock, glove tight, and was moving it rhythmically up and down.
"Let's do it again," she said. "What?"
"Re-live that first experience of yours. How did it start?"
"Just like this."
"Like what?"
She stopped the movement of her hand for a moment and he flexed his pulsating member to urge her to begin again.
"Like this. She was going to jack me off, and ... "
"And?"
He shrugged. "And I told her after all it was the district championship and since she'd jacked me off for covering the fumble that saved the Homecoming game, maybe she could see her way to ... "He paused. "Did you ever see anybody as hung up as my parents are?"
"Yes." She gave a few more hard flicks of her wrists. "My parents, until I liberated them."
She licked her lips, smiting seductively in the soft shadows, her little breasts goose bumped in the chill of the night.
"Don't kid yourself."
"I play scrabble for keeps. I mean every word I say." She leaned over and kissed the purplish tip of his rigid cock. "Now, let's get on with your defloration."