Chapter 11
THINGS WENT FROM BAD TO WORSE for Abbie and me, and for the next three weeks we scarcely acknowledged one another's presence. She rarely spoke to me, and then did so only when speaking was an absolute necessity. I felt pretty much the same way toward her, avoiding her as much as possible, even to the point of sleeping on the sofa. This went on, as I've said, for about three weeks until one day she told me she was going to call up the people about the ad in the paper.
I merely grunted. I was lying on my sofa at the time, having a drink, my stomach having long since gotten over it's upset condition.
"Do you want me to call these people or not, Robert?" she asked, hands on hips. "Just say yes or no. I can't tell what you mean by a grunt."
"No, I don't want you to do anything except get lost," I growled.
"Somebody has to do something. You won't do anything. You're getting uglier every day."
"Why shouldn't I? It's not often a guy has a wife who likes sucking off a Chink."
She flushed. "I didn't suck him off. I just laid him."
"I'll bet."
"It's the truth. He got on top of me and stuck it in, and what's more, I liked it. Hu Chou has a big one, baby."
"About as big as yours, I'll bet."
"I don't have a big one. I have a small, tight cunt and you know it, or at least you do if you can remember that far back."
"Go away. Take a walk."
"I won't go away. I'm going to call this couple and see if they can't help us. Living this way is unbearable."
"You can say that again."
"Do you agree then? Shall I call them?"
I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
She went to the phone without saying another word to me. I didn't bother listening to her end of the conversation, so I didn't know what she said at first.
She came back to where I lay after a minute or so. "They weren't in," she stated flatly. "I'm to call back later. I mean, the husband wasn't in."
"What good do you think that'll do?" I asked.
"We've been over that before. It's worth trying. That's all I have to say about it." She turned and walked to the bedroom and slammed the door, something she had been doing quite a bit of recently.
It was my day off from work and I'd been in and out of the house all day long, hardly knowing what to do with myself. Now I got off the sofa and walked out of doors. Immediately I saw the blonde girl who sometimes stayed next door with Hu Chou. I looked at her and saw she was wearing an extremely short skirt which showed off her shapely legs in excellent fashion. I felt a bit of interest mounting in me and called over to her.
"Hi," I said. "How are you?"
She turned and saw me and smiled. "Hello, I haven't seen you in the yard recently. Have you been ill?"
"Not recently."
"Hu Chou isn't at home. If your wife ... doesn't object, why don't you come over?"
Funny thing. This girl had lived next door to me for several months (at least she was there a part of the time) and I still didn't know her name. What was more, neither did Abbie. I walked over to where she stood on the porch and looked up at her.
"What's your name?" I asked. "I don't know it even yet."
"It's Mary Breen."
"Glad to know you," I said, realizing that this sounded somewhat foolish. I flushed slightly. "I guess you know what I mean."
"Yes, I do. Want to come ... inside for a while?"
"Some other time," I told her, thinking about Abbie inside the house and more than likely watching the whole thing.
"Very well. I understand."
"Tell me something, will you? I'm not prying into your affairs, but I'm curious about what your relationship is to Hu Chou."
She looked about carefully and lowered her voice. "He doesn't want people to know," she said, "but I'm his wife."
"Oh ... why doesn't he want people to know?"
"For a Chinese it's considered almost a disgrace to be married to a white woman. He doesn't want his Chinese friends to find out about us."
"I see."
She did a startling thing then. Stepping back inside of the house where no one else could see her, she lifted her short skirt and showed me she wasn't wearing pants. She placed her other hand on her hip and began to wiggle her butt about, crooking her forefinger of her left hand at me in beckoning fashion. I shook my head, glancing at the side window of our house to see if Abbie was looking at me. She was. I could just barely make out her form standing back from the window a few steps. Again I shook my head slightly at Mary and a look of disappointment spread over her pretty face. She lifted her skirt higher and shot her loins forward so I could see her cunt. I became hard instantly and wanted very much to enter the house and throw her to the floor and top her, but something held me back. Not that I felt I owed any loyalty to Abbie. I didn't. It was something else that prevented me from satisfying my urge, and while I stood there uncertainly I saw a look of anger come over Mary's face, and she suddenly slammed the door, shutting off my pleasurable view of her cunt.
I sighed, and after a moment walked back to my own yard. I saw Abbie at the front door now. She was glaring at me and knocking her hair out of her eyes at the same time.
I looked at her and grinned.
The phone rang inside of our house before she could say anything, and she went to answer it. I turned my glance in the direction of the house next door but couldn't see Mary. Her door was still closed. While I was looking at it, Abbie came running out of the house."
"My father!" she cried. "Something's happened to him. The police found him lying in the park. Are the keys in the car?"
"Yes, I'll go with you," I said.
She stopped and turned about quickly. "No," she said. "I don't want you to go with me. I'll look after him myself." She jumped into the car, started the motor, backed out and was gone before I could stop her. I watched the car disappear down the street.
It was several hours later that Abbie returned. She was glum and wouldn't talk to me about her father at first.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked at length. "You can at least tell me that."
"He's very ill," she said. "That damned mother of yours, I could kill her."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean ... my father is very ill, damn it, and your mother poisoned him!"
"Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I know she did. The doctor said he'd been poisoned."
I was sitting on the sofa. Now I got up and went to her and picked her up in my arms.
"What are you doing?" she gasped. "I'm going to make love to you, Abbie," I said gently.
"A fine time for lust, if you ask me."
"Not just lust. Love, Abbie."
Her eyes brightened. "You mean you actually want to take me to bed?"
"Yes, I'm going to."
"Why? Are you feeling sorry for me?"
"Partly, but mostly it's because I have a hard-on for you."
"Do you love me, Robert?"
"Yes, Abbie. I've just realized how much."
"If I let you screw me, will you promise me one thing?"
"All right," I replied, knowing in advance what the promise would be.
"If I let you do it to me, Robert, you must promise never to screw your mother again. Will you promise me that?"
"Yes."
She laughed. "Oh, Robert, hurry, take me to bed."
I carried her to the bedroom and placed her on the bed. She hurriedly threw off her clothing while I did the same. I got on the bed and ran my hands up and down her lush, smooth body. My penis was as stiff as it had ever been in my life. She was fascinated at the sight of it.
"Robert," she said, "you're so hard and big. You haven't been this way with me in a long time. What's happened to you?"
"I don't know," I muttered as I sank the shaft into her cunt and began to pump. "It just happened."
She grunted as I went deep. "Oh, Robert, I've waited ... so long for you to ... do this to me. Make me ... cream all over the place, honey."
"Kiss me," I said, and pressed my mouth on hers.
She kissed me wetly, passionately, and ran her tongue over mine frantically. I pulled away after a moment. "Oh, Robert! I'm so hot! Blow off in me ... as many times as you can! I want your sap so very much, darling!"
She began biting me lightly on the neck and cheek, and each time her teeth sank into my flesh I pumped my dick into her, and finally I squirted a long, hot stream of sap into her.
"More, Robert," she begged. "Keep it going for a long, long time, darling."
I grunted and kept on pumping, in and out, in and out. She moaned and groaned and grunted with every stroke, and I began to perspire on her body freely. She, too, perspired, and our two sweats mingled even as our sex juices did.
"Robert!" she cried. "Sink it deep into me, baby!"
I drove my cock into her with such ferocity that she yelled from the pain of it.
"Oh, Robert ... you're a better man than anyone. You're ... the greatest man on earth."
Hearing her say this really sent me. I pumped faster now, and again I squirted a long stream of sap into her.
"Don't stop, Robert! Do it a third time! You can do it! I know you can! Make me, honey, make me live again!"
I made her live again by blowing off for the third time.
"My husband's screwing me!" she cried. "Oh, my husband is ... screwing me. Oh ... how perfectly wonderful to have my husband...."
Her words were cut off because I had begun to pump once again, ramming my hardened cock into her crevice.
She spoke to me then, but in another context. "I found out who the people were ... who placed the ad in the paper ... honey. It was ... our neighbor, Hu Chou, and his ... woman."
I scarcely heard her for a moment, but then it dawned on me what she'd said and I stopped my movement.
"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously. "Can't you do it again?"
"That's about it, Abbie. I'm tired," I told her.
"Isn't it exciting that the couple should live right next door?"
I pulled it out of her and got to my feet.
"What's the matter, Robert?" she asked, her voice strained. Did I say something wrong?"
"I was making love to you, Abbie," I said quietly.
"W-What?"
"I said I was making love to you." I looked at her steadily, and then left the room and went to the bathroom where I kept myself from throwing up only with difficulty. For the first time since we'd been married I had known a few minutes of real love for my wife, and precisely in the middle of it she'd brought up the fact that she wanted the Chinese next door to lay her. It was enough to make a horse throw up. If my stomach hadn't been so upset, I would have drunk myself into oblivion. What the hell was the use in being sober? I left the bathroom after a few minutes and returned to the bedroom door. Glancing in at her, I saw her fingering herself, her eyes tightly closed.
"Having fun?" I asked sarcastically.
She turned and looked at me innocently. "Honey," she said, just as if I hadn't gotten angry at her. "If you can't screw me, why don't you suck me? I'd love that."
"Go take a bath," I said.
"What?"
"Go take a bath. I'm having a drink."
"If I take a bath, will you?"
"Go take a bath," I repeated.
She got up from the bed, her finger still in her cunt and came close to me. "Kiss me, honey."
I kissed her lightly, although not wanting to.
"Thank you," she said in mock fashion. "I'll go now and take that bath. Don't drink too much, Robert."
"Don't count on it," I said.
"Oh, I'm so happy," she exclaimed. "Aren't you?"
"Yes, very happy. Delighted with everything."
She apparently missed the sarcasm in my voice. "I'm so glad, Robert, so very glad."
"You certainly got over feeling depressed about your father in a hurry," I said.
She laughed strangely. "Now that you've made love to me, everything seems to be better."
I got my pants and put them on and went into the living room and poured myself a drink. Abbie, I reflected, was stupid. She couldn't understand that her remark about the couple next door had made me sick. Maybe, I told myself, I became sick too easily. Maybe I should be a bit tougher inside, but a guy is what he is, and he can't be anything else.
"Want to come in and wash my back, honey?" she called out to me.
"No," I called back. "I'm having a few drinks," I had quite a few drinks, too, and downed them in a hurry. I lay back on the sofa and relaxed, feeling the buzz from the whiskey and liking it. I must have dropped off to sleep, for I awakened with a start and saw it was dark in the room. I got to my feet, shook my head and groped for the lightswitch. When the lights were on, I looked for Abbie, but she wasn't in the room. "Abbie," I called, "where are you?" There was no reply. I searched the house, going from room to room, but she wasn't in the place. I swore, for I had a good idea of where she'd gone-next door to see Hu Chou. I took a deep breath and tried to put Abbie out of my mind. I was fed up with her all the way. "Screw you, dear wife," I muttered. "I'm going out somewhere."
I showered and shaved, and put on my best suit and left the house, not bothering with taking the car. I preferred to walk. I passed by the cafe and glanced in, but the blonde woman, Lenza's mother, wasn't behind the counter. A man was. I thought about going in but rejected the idea. I was too up in the air for Lenza at the moment.
It dawned on me then that I'd been attempting to act like a mature married man for more than four months, and that I wasn't a mature man at all.
I hurried along the street, shivering. "Hell, I'm just a crazy, mixed-up kid," I muttered. I can't make it without my mother-love.
It didn't occur to me, at the time, that my mother-love remark was little more than half-baked nonsense.