| In the previous chapter I advised readers that this is part of a series, consisting of a lengthy plot, made more credible by reading previous chapters. It's not a "quickie" story, though there's plenty of sex. One just has to wait for it. Just click on my name and go to the link to see Deirdre's previous adulterous troubles. Be forewarned that this episode describes in graphic detail the intolerable crime of rape and its aftermath. As always, we appreciate your feedback and votes!
On Friday my husband Frank left for his weekend trip to Phoenix that had been arranged by his boss, Bruce. I'd not told him about Bruce's mauling of me Wednesday night after Frank had passed out, drunk. I had, however, warned him that I was going to take charge of my life and live according to my rules, not the sexist dictates we'd lived by for nearly ten years of married life, nor the conventions inherited from our conservative, Italian-American parents.
Though Bruce's attempted assault had frightened me, I felt nevertheless stronger, more independent, more sure of myself, more empowered, since I'd succeeded in warding him off. In large part, though, the new me was a product of my love affair with Jack Taylor, a patient whom I'd met through my work at our dental office, and since had retained as the designer of our home that was to be remodeled. Until Jack, there had been a floating, unanchored, though cyclical sourness in my marriage to Frank that had made me at times appear moody, illogical and panicky...while trying to maintain a veneer of calm respectability. And, of course, there was the problem of our not being able to conceive.
Though Frank was infertile, with Jack I was now free from the fear of pregnancy, since my pills had kicked in, and the temporary use of the diaphragm was no longer needed. I even felt stronger when dealing with him, not accepting his every pronouncement just because of my passionate feelings for him. We'd made love - no, we'd fucked - on Wednesday and I'd seen him on Friday for his root canal appointment with Dr. McCarthy, my boss. On that day I'd gone to lunch with Mandy, my work mate, and - at her urging - had chosen not to see Jack after work, which had become a regular, carnal habit. I suspected him - for good reason - of seeing other women, and wanted to talk with him about it. I'd decided to discuss it with him when he came to our house Saturday afternoon to plan the remodel project. This would allow me to confront him with my suspicions about his wandering eye...or should I say his faithless prick?
I awoke Saturday feeling liberated from many things...particularly my pervasive guilt and panic attacks, which in the past had weakened all of my relations with men: my father; my husband; his boss, Bruce; my boss, Dr. McCarthy...even my lover, Jack. When looking closely at my entire 32 years, though, I truly had little to feel guilty about. However, for the benefit of my soul, like the good Catholic girl that I am, I went to church early in the morning and took Confession, explaining my recent infidelities to the priest. When concluding my redemptive pleas for forgiveness, I felt momentarily cleansed, yet it troubled me that something as beautiful as I'd felt with Jack could be considered evil...something that should prompt sorrow and shame.
Back at home at 10 o'clock, I slipped on a black bikini, anxious to work on my tan in the backyard, which is a weekend ritual of mine. After speaking on the phone with my mother about a dozen unimportant things, I lay out in the warm sun on a chaise lounge to leach myself of the week's unpleasant memories. As I usually do, I stripped off my bikini to prevent lines...a practice that's safe enough since the yard is enclosed on three sides by a high privacy fence. Only the most daring, nosey person would try to enter the yard via either of the narrow walks along the sides of the house.
After an hour or so, I heard the doorbell ring through the open back door. Throwing on my short, white terry robe, I ran through the house and opened it to Billy, a 19-year-old neighbor boy who'd just returned from a year away at college. Frank and I had known him and his parents since he was 10. "Hi, Deirdre!" he said. "Uuh, I wondered if you wanted your front lawn mowed. I'm doin' yardwork this quarter and work real cheap!" he gushed, boyishly. His devoted companion, Thor, a giant, black Great Dane, sat obediently beside him, slowly sweeping the front porch with his tail as he regarded me curiously.
"Why, Billy! I hardly recognize you! You've grown so much!" I observed. Indeed, it was true. He'd left a gangly boy and here, staring at me after having not seen him for a year, was a tall, muscular, sandy-haired youth who could easily pass for a fully grown man! The tank top and cargo shorts he was wearing clung to tanned muscles that defined his shoulders, chest, and thighs. For a moment I thought that he could be a young Jack of twenty plus years ago, bronzed and cheerful. Smiling, I saw his clear blue eyes drop slowly from my face, over my breasts - lingering for a moment on the swell of my hips - then to the hem of my short robe, which revealed much of my smooth, olive legs. I was immediately uncomfortable, since I was naked underneath, yet felt a certain perverse pleasure in the fact that he might like what he saw...since I'm 13 years his senior. "Sure! Cut it!" I said. "I'll give you twenty dollars. Here, I'll pay you now, 'cause I'm in the backyard, sunning." I grabbed my purse, had nothing smaller than a fifty, and asked, "Billy, Can you come back later? I don't have twenty."
"Sure, Deirdre! I'll do a good job an' see ya' later, okay? Don't wanna' bother you! Go back to your sunbathing!" I watched him through the window for a few minutes, eyeing his strong, youthful muscles - now bearing an attractive, masculine sheen of sweat - easily maneuver the power mower across the front lawn. His faithful dog, Thor, loped after him as if to remind him of any missed spots. Then, I retreated to the backyard, re-donning my bikini to worship the sun.
As I lay on my tummy on the lounge, I untied my bra string. With the hot sun penetrating my shoulders and back, my eyes closed dreamily and I began to think sexual thoughts. I smiled to myself as I flashed on Billy's admiring gaze and - for a split second - imagined what male secrets his cargo shorts might hold. But that image immediately faded into the very real recent memory of Jack, with his erect cock pulsing before him, waiting to penetrate my yearning body. I turned my head toward the house, so I could be warned of any interruption, and slid the opposite hand under my bikini bottom to cup my smoothly shaven pussy. I gasped as my fingers touched my moist crotch, slickened by the sun and my thoughts, and stroked my clit a few times, causing a lovely, shuddering feeling to well up within me. Of course, I continued, since my conscious mind whispered: More!
Regardless of the newfound discipline that I wanted to exercise, I needed Jack and would have him later this day, I knew...just as soon as I'd made him aware of my suspicions. If he was doing so, I wanted him to stop seeing other women. But, for now I wanted and needed release. My juicy fingers sped up and I hunched my vulva down against them as repetitive shards of pleasure jolted my body. I ground faster, closing my eyes and gasping until I thought I'd faint. As I climaxed, my legs shot straight out behind me and I grunted through gritted teeth, not wanting to utter a sound since I heard Billy still cutting the grass in front. As I came down, relaxing and rubbing one excited nipple, I whispered Jack's name to myself and imagined the heat of his spunk deep inside me. Wow! Had I ever changed...from the faithful, repressed, suburban wife to a desperately hot, horny wench, preoccupied with sex!
I picked some lemons off the tall tree in the yard and fixed a quick salad for lunch. I also squeezed some lemon juice onto my armpits, under my breasts, in the soft creases on either side of my pussy and between my butt cheeks...just to smell fresh. Then I put on a short, sleeveless, sundress over my bikini to look presentable.
Jack arrived in mid-afternoon, looking noticeably tense. After what I thought was a perfunctory kiss at the door, we went to the living room, where he showed me his finished designs for each room to be done. I sat in an armchair at an angle to the coffee table, crossing my legs, and he knelt on the floor, leafing through drawings and reciting a technical litany about what we needed to do, beginning this coming week. My mind wandered after the first five minutes, musing about the discussion I really wanted to have, and I finally said, "Let's talk about this later, okay, Jack? I feel you're so far away. Why are you so preoccupied?" I asked, noticing that his eyes went straight to my dress's hemline, which barely covered my crotch.
"Sorry, Dee Dee," he said, exhaling. "I'm not totally focused today."
Shocking myself at my impertinence, I blundered ahead, "Are you fucking that Chinese woman, Jack?...your tailor?" I'd not seen him blanch before but he did now and, as the blood returned to his face, he stood up to his 6'2" height and planted his hands in his pockets.
Looking directly down at me he said, quietly, "Yes. I was with her this morning."
My heart froze and my mouth opened as panic paralyzed me. I issued what sounded like a sob, and asked in a whisper, "Do you love her?"
"Of course not, Dee Dee!" he scoffed. "I met her a couple of weeks before I did you and...it's purely physical!"
"Well, Jack, I'm not with anyone else...and I resent your behavior!" I flashed, angrily.
Jack chuckled sarcastically and asked, "You're not fucking your husband?"
"That's different and you know it!" I spat.
"Oh, really!" he said with a sardonic smile. "Well, when Judy saw the scratches you made this week, she shit a brick! I got the same garbage from her just three hours ago!" he pronounced, his voice rising. "I can't believe this! I've lived like a monk for months and the minute I come out of my shell I get blasted by a bevy of jealous women!"
"A bevy, Jack?" I asked, needing to know more.
"You know what I mean!" he said, really starting to shout. Then he calmed, shaking his head with a quiet chortle, and said, "Dee Dee, regardless of whether we're fucking others, why make a big thing of it? God!...what is it with you?" making it sound as if I represented the entire feminine gender. "The one thing I've learned in this life is that females always suspect 'another woman.' If I were a believer in fables, I'd swear that Eve accused Adam of adultery...even though there were no other women in Eden! O'course, she'd never have believed his denials, 'cause every night when he got home she would've counted his ribs!"
Jack's sardonic humor wasn't lost on me. I had to smile at his Biblical joke. Nonetheless, I pushed further: "Jack. You must know that I love you...and it kills me to think of you with someone else."
"Why?" he asked. "I fully expect you to...'have intercourse'...with your husband," he said, using the polite term in a sarcastic way. "Do you think I'm so insensitive that I don't hurt just a little bit when I think of him boning you?" he asked.
"Oh, Jack, don't be crude," I said defensively, though grasping his point and realizing that I was espousing a double standard.
"Look, I'm thrilled with you," he said softly, dropping to his knees in front of me and placing his arms alongside my thighs as I sat in the chair. "But, we've just met and are bound to be carrying a lot of old baggage. Give us some time. Things'll work out...if they're meant to...".
He placed his chin on top of my lap and looked up at me, which prompted me to uncross my legs and spread my knees as he drew me forward to the edge of the chair with his hands around my bottom. The sun caught his hair, reflecting its blond and copper highlights. My dress had pulled up to the crotch line, revealing my black bikini bottom, and I got the ambivalent feeling that I always do when one of my specious arguments - based on emotion - is overcome. My body felt unsteady, numb and tingling, and my heart beat rapidly as my breath came in short gasps.
I wasn't, however, ambivalent about what I wanted. I leaned forward and kissed Jack deeply, hoping that he'd showered and cleansed himself of the other woman's scents. It'd been days since I'd felt the blistering heat his body caused in mine, and I felt myself moisten as his hands reached up under my dress to draw the bikini down over my now upraised calves. "Mmmm, you smell all lemony," he murmured, as his moustache tickled up the inside of my spread thighs. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, craning my neck in anticipation of his soft lips and tongue against my pussy, knowing that would make me better.
"Ohhh, Jack, yesssss," I hissed at first contact. I hunched my hips up further, placing my calves on his shoulders, as he drove his tongue deeply inside me. I imagined that the lemon taste might be nice as he drew from me the juice from my late morning masturbation, blending it with new nectar that flowed with each noisy slurp of his tongue. Putting my hands softly on his head as he licked, I asked, "You like my smooth pussy, baby? Hmmm? I want you to love it...I want...it to... be...the best. Just...love me...Jack...just...love me...love me...love me..." I plead.
The hot afternoon sun bathed us through the window as Jack tongued me. We began to perspire as he moved his mouth, flicking at my clit like a flight of butterflies. I'd missed him so since Wednesday...his gentleness, his tall, masculine body...his hard maleness...his cock. Three full days without him, and the unpleasantness with Bruce and Frank, had rendered me brittle and distrustful. What he did to my body - what he was doing now! - swept all of that away. I not only loved this man...I needed him. And, I showed it at this moment by pulling his head hard against me and screaming out my pleasure. "Jaaaack! Cu'...cumm...cumm-mming...Jack! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ahh...aahhh...aaahhh...aaammm...mmmm...mmmnn...mnnnaah..." I uttered, with wanton abandon, as the sweetest of soft orgasms purged me of my tension. My legs flopped open from around his ears and I looked down at him, his eyes seemingly searching for recognition, or endorsement...or approval, and I brought him to me for a deep kiss, happily accepting my juices from his sweet mouth.
After a few minutes Jack got up and stretched, his cock forming a prominent bulge in his pants. I looked up at him, once again admiring his body in polo shirt and jeans, and asked, "Wanta' go to bed?"
"Uhhh, is Frank golfing?" he asked, unaware of my husband's business trip.
"No, he's in Phoenix. Won't be back 'til Monday," I answered with a sly smile.
"Mmm! Lotsa' time!" he grinned. "In that case, let's go out back and lay out your new gazebo while there's still some sun!" he said, enthusiastically.
"Work, work, work! What a slave driver!" I joked, as I slipped my bikini bottom back on. "Do you at least want a soda?...or a beer?" I asked as we walked toward the kitchen.
"Beer'd be nice," he said. "Thanks."
As I walked to the refrigerator I peeled off my sundress, knowing that my bikini-clad body would get Jack's attention. I didn't do it to tease him. It's just that we're never able to relax unless we're behind closed doors and...well, yes...I hungered for his admiring glances. He said, "Wow, Dee Dee, you look gorgeous!"
"Like my new bikini?" I asked, provocatively. It's not for swimming. The top has thin spaghetti straps holding up two stretch cups that support the bottoms of my 34C breasts, just covering my dark pink aureoles and showing lots of olive tit flesh. The bottom is very brief. Though not a thong, the narrow sides reach very high over the curve of my hips to anchor the miniscule front triangle and back. It shows lots of my butt cheeks and allows a glimpse of the sides of my shaven labia majorae, one of the few Latin terms I know for the female anatomy.
"Christ, Dee Dee," Jack gulped. "You're made for fucking," he murmured, his obscenity causing me to smile inwardly as I led him into the back yard.
Once outside, he announced, "Okay, here's the size of the gazebo I have in mind. The drawing's inside...you can look at it later," he said, pulling a tape measure off of his belt. He handed me one end and we laid out the perimeter of the small structure, marking its boundary with twigs. While doing this, I chose every opportunity to move my body seductively, posturing as best I could...anything to draw Jack's looks. I was exercising my newfound power. Yet I was being such a typical woman, engaging in the age-old dance of attracting the male of the species to mate. I'm convinced that this is so ingrained in the human animal - unlike others in the food chain - that it's why females are nearly always sexually receptive. Women want their men to come home to them, and what better way to assure it than with the sultry promise of physical satiation? Such a naturalist philosopher you are, Deirdre, I told myself.
"Look good?" Jack asked, about the imaginary gazebo. Unlike him, I couldn't visualize it, or didn't want to at that moment, so I giggled and pranced over to the lemon tree.
"Want a lemon?" I asked, seductively, striking a classic glamour girl pose with a leg gracefully bent and one hand on a hip as I leaned against the tree. Remembering Jack's joke about the Garden of Eden, I fancied myself as Eve beckoning to Adam, imploring him to taste an apple.
That was enough. Jack growled and rushed at me, making gurgling sounds in his throat. I let out a little scream, then, giggling, grabbed the stepladder propped against the tree and started to climb it, just as Jack groped me from behind. I squealed girlishly as his hot hands started tickling me all over, then turned around as he slid one hand between my legs to my sopping crotch. I stopped giggling, looked into his eyes, then leaned down - since I was on the second step - and kissed him lightly. His tongue probed my mouth and, as I flushed a fresh stream of juice onto my bikini, I broke from him and urgently whispered, "Oh, God, Jack...please take me now...".
He spun me quickly around - I let out a little yelp - and brought me to the bottom step so my back was to him. I heard his zipper fly open, looked to see his jeans and boxers fall, and felt his erect cock as he gasped roughly, "Nnngh-shit! I've gotta' get in...side you!" He then pulled my skimpy bikini bottom aside and pushed halfway into me, then all the way in as I dropped the rest of the way onto his gorgeous cock, whimpering as I did so.
The hot afternoon sun bathed us as we coupled, me hanging onto the ladder and sucking his probe all the way in...then pulling off to repeat our glorious fusing. My perspiration, no, my sweat, began to drip down between my breasts, then down my back and sides, over my butt to run into my crack as Jack rammed me ceaselessly. I began to grunt like a rutting animal, "Unn-Nuh! Unn-Nuh! Unn-Nuh!" as he jammed himself up into me, delighting in the smacking sound of his sweaty, muscular loins as they slapped my fleshy bottom. And, just when I thought he'd cum, he slowed his rapid thrusts and began stirring me lewdly, wringing from me mewls that sounded like those of a whining bitch.
I was delirious. I responded to his circular skewering by revolving my butt in a circle, helping him to titillate as much of my insides as he could. My fingers gripped the ladder harder until they lost all feeling from their tension, and his hands grew tighter on my hips as he swirled my cunt in an equatorial movement. My head tossed like that of a mad marionette which had lost its main string, and my carefully coifed, frosted hair lashed at my shoulders, becoming limp with sweat as it flew. "I-uuHH, nnn-uuHH, oo-uuHH, noo-uuHH," I grunted, trying to warn Jack of my impending orgasm, but it didn't matter. He was sweetly savage as he brought me to a climax with his heavenly screwing, continuing to probe deeply then stirring - even brushing my G spot - as we mated. Everything gelled in one moment - the hot sun, being outdoors, the divine feelings in my body, the image of my studly Jack, panting behind me - and I came as strongly as ever I had in my life. I tried to scream but couldn't, since I was breathless. Instead, I just released torrents of rasping, grunted emotion through my gritted teeth, as for minutes it seemed I thrashed through a white hot orgasm.