Chapter 9
SAM DIDN'T LIVE AT PINE CENTER. HE was a transient who had decided to hang around for a few weeks and had picked up a temporary, menial job at the sawmill.
He was ready to pull up stakes and head for another town, so there seemed no reason why he should resist the urge to brag to the boys in Fred's tavern that he had laid the tavern-keeper's wife.
He dropped the bomb as he sat with three other guys at a table, and, the moment he said it, all heads turned Fred's way. Fred noticed this and wondered about it. But he was busy and dismissed the matter from his mind after a few moments.
Later in the evening, however, one of the men who had been at Sam's table drew Fred aside.
"There's something I figure you oughta know," the man said. "I mean, if I was in your shoes I'd want somebody to tell me."
"What is it, Lew?" Fred asked the middle-aged local resident.
"It's about ... your wife."
Fred gripped his arm. "What are you talking about?"
"Sam Becker-he was in here a while ago. He was bragging he had laid Clarisa."
Fred's eyes drilled into those of the other man.
"I'm just passin' it on, Fred ... like I'd want somebody to do for me."
Fred let go of Lew's arm. He said, "The bastard is lying. Clarisa's never looked at another man. Wait until that Becker comes in here next time-I'll flatten him."
"He sounded like he was tellin' the truth," Lew said gently. "He said he was up at Dick Sparks' shack, and your wife and a friend of hers came over. The guys took turns with both women, Sam said."
"He's nuts!"
"Maybe. But he seemed mighty proud of himself."
Lew took his leave, and Fred stood there, stunned. He wasn't half as sure of the falseness of Sam's story as he had sounded. Pam was an evil influence. It was possible that she had persuaded Clarisa to take part in an orgy with her. He didn't want to believe it, but, knowing Pam as he did, it might have happened.
He turned to his assistant, told him to take over for the rest of the night, and quickly took off his apron.
When he arrived at the cottage, Clarisa and Pam were seated in the living room, looking at television. After two wild nights in a row, they were both happy to remain at home this evening.
Fred walked into the room and looked at them.
"Well!" said Pam, glancing up. "He's home early."
Clarisa didn't say anything. She knew her husband well enough to realize that something was wrong. And she didn't have to wonder long about what it was. Her face immediately revealed her guilt, and this was all the confirmation Fred needed.
His anger didn't explode against Clarisa, though he was deeply hurt by the knowledge of what she had done. Someone else was basically to blame.
Ever since Pam had arrived at Pine Center-and even before that-he had yearned to screw her. But he had restrained the lustful urge because he had wanted to protect the sanctity of his marriage. Well, now that sanctity was shattered by the very person he had longed to take to bed ... and he had nothing to show for it. He'd been made the butt of the whole affair.
He turned to Pam and reached down and grasped her, yanking her out of her chair.
"Fred ... noooh!" she cried. "Don't!"
But it was too late. He swung his arm viciously, striking her across the cheek with all his might. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed on the carpeted floor. Clarisa leaped to her feet, screaming. Fred dropped to the floor beside Pam and proceeded to slap her face one way and the other, snapping her head from side to side. She shrieked.
"You dirty bitch!" he grated. "Filthy, dirty, whoring slut!"
"Noooh, Fred ... no ... oh, God!" Clarisa cried, and attempted to pull him away from Pam, but it was no use. He easily pushed her aside and continued to concentrate his attention on the other woman.
Pam lay on her back, crying and clutching her face. She gazed up at him, terror-stricken. He looked angry enough to commit murder.
What he did, however, was altogether different.
It had come to him, in the last few seconds, that the only fitting punishment for both Pam and Clarisa would be for him to screw Pam in Clarisa's presence. He would make her sit and watch it, and he would screw Pam in a way that would give her no pleasure but would satisfy only himself.
It would've been clear to anyone able to read his thoughts that punishment of Pam and Clarisa wasn't the only purpose of the treatment. Carnal satisfaction, for himself, was by no means an incidental factor. But Fred wouldn't consciously admit this.
"Now, bitch," he announced to Pam, "you're going to get what you've been wanting. But you aren't going to like it. I'm going to screw the living shit out of you, and Clarisa's going to watch!"
"Noooh!" Clarisa cried.
He reached out swiftly, grasped her by the arm, and swung her into a lounge chair. "Don't get up," he warned, "or I'll tie you to the damned chair."
Pam had mixed feelings about what was going to happen. The idea of Fred screwing her in front of Clarisa was a kick, but she hadn't wanted their first lay, after all these years, to happen this way. And he was so angry, she was afraid he would show her no consideration.
How right she was!
Fred grasped the top of the stretch pants and gave them a vicious yank, breaking the waistband and splitting them down one side. He continued to pull and tear them, drawing Pam's legs up into the air and finally getting the tight pants off. She wore snug, white briefs underneath. Now he grasped the top of her outfit with both hands and pulled so fiercely that it, also, split. It opened down her front. He didn't bother to remove this garment, but diverted his attention to her bra. Hooking two fingers around the elasticized portion between the cups, he yanked. Pam howled with pain as the back-strap of the bra bit into her tender flesh. But the pressure lasted for only a moment. The front of the bra ripped in two, and the cups flipped away from her hobbling tits. Now he had only to pull off her underpants, and she would be, to all intents, naked.
Clarisa gazed at the wild scene, hardly believing this was her husband behaving in this fashion. But she had given him cause. She had to admit that.
Damn Pam! She had assured Clarisa that the story of their sex parties wouldn't get out. Obviously it had, and quickly.
Now Fred pulled Pam's panties off. Lust tightened its grip upon him as he got a glimpse of her dark-haired cunt. This was what he had wanted for so long. He spread her legs wide arid clawed his pants open, while he gazed at the rosy gash which bisected Pam's pubic garden. The inner lips weren't tense yet, nor wet. It was going to be a dry hump to start with, and it might even hurt her. But she had that coming-that and more!
As he swung his immense, stiff cock out, Pam gazed at it wide-eyed. That was what she had wanted, but not just this way. And not so fast!
He tilted his prick down to her slit, found the little orifice with the tip of his rod, and threw his hips forward in a mighty thrust. The huge weapon breached her tender portal and forced its way deeply into her unready cunt, pulling the delicate membranes and hurting her.
"Oh, God!" she cried. "Don't! Fred! Ooh, Jesus!"
He merely growled, drew his prick most of the way out, and slammed it viciously into her again, going deeper than before. She screamed in pain. He pulled and thrust, pulled and thrust, never hesitating a moment or conserving an iota of his brutal bulk. He gave her all the meat he had, as forcefully and rapidly as he could pound into her. She sobbed and writhed, for once in her life trying to avoid the thrusts of a prick instead of trying to absorb more and more. But her wriggling motions were to no avail, for the hard floor was at her back, and she couldn't get away. Not daring to strike at Fred for fear he would hurt her even more, she took all he had to give.
Even when he shifted his weight to one arm so that he could slap his other hand back and forth across her hobbling titties, he didn't slow up between her thighs. She'd moistened a little by now, but her membranes had been rubbed nearly raw, and every stroke of his huge, thick pecker gave her pain.
Clarisa watched the vicious screwing in trembling awe, both fascinated and repelled. She feared she might be next on Fred's list, but, if so, she would have an advantage over Pam, for she already was moist, and her vaginal lips were congested with blood; they were even now flaring, opening like the petals of a dewy rose.
He had no intention of screwing her, however. He wanted only to finish with Pam, then order the filthy slut out of his house. As for Clarisa, perhaps he could forgive her in time.
His vigorous, non-stop pounding into Pam's tortured cunt brought satisfaction quickly. He drove his penis deep and let the ejaculation come. He jerked and jetted his semen into her.
Pam was moaning. She stopped, however, when he pulled his peter out. Though she hadn't reached orgasm, she was grateful that the humping had ended. She rolled onto her side on the carpet, forcing her thighs together, and drew her knees up, wondering how long it would take for the burning to go away.
Fred got up, stuffed his penis back into his pants, and zipped his fly closed.
Clarisa gazed at him as if she were looking at a stranger who'd committed a shocking act.
"Go to bed," he said softly but with firmness.
She hesitated for only a moment, then got up and walked quickly into the hall. Her panties were damp, and moisture had trickled down between her thighs, making them sticky as they rubbed together.
He turned back to Pam, who was still lying on her side, her legs pressed snugly against each other.
"I want you out of this house first thing in the morning," he declared.
She didn't move for a moment, then rolled slowly onto her back and looked up at him. She let her legs part, revealing her rosy, wet cunt and the black curls which fringed it, now plastered against her skin.
"Haven't you had enough?" he grated as he glared down at her.
"No." Her eyes held his in a sober, unmoving gaze. "I haven't had nearly enough-of you or what you've started by this. I hope you enjoyed yourself this time; my fun's gong to come from now on."
"There isn't going to be any 'from now on.' You're leaving."
"No."
"Goddamn you!" He reached and grasped her by the arms, pulling her to her feet.
She pressed herself against him. "You haven't had enough of me. You know you haven't. From now on, anything goes. We've all revealed what we really are and what we want. We're going to make this dull place swing!"
He had an urge to tell her she was crazy and kick her out on her ass. But there was something in what she'd just said.
Things had changed. What Clarisa had done, under Pam's influence, had changed them, and the change had just now been confirmed by his treatment of Pam in Clarisa's presence.
He couldn't undo what had been done. The reality that existed now had to be dealt with. Gripping Pam by the arms, he pushed her away from him. Her eyes were confident and strong as they looked into his.
Reversing his earlier pronouncements, he said, "Get into my bedroom. You're going to sleep with Clarisa and me tonight."