The whole house echoed with the resounding crash of the fallen chinaware plate. Janet's nerves were strung tight in her throat. Every movement, every sound was torture to her. Greg had called ten minutes before to tell her that he was at the airport and would be home soon.
During the last five days that Greg had been gone, five days of psychological torture to Janet, she had broken twelve dishes, hurt herself falling down the stairs, and had left the checkbook in a shambles. She hadn't enough self control to subtract a few simple figures to keep their bank balance straight.
Except for grocery shopping and a trip to the post office to pay the monthly bills, she had not left her house. Most of that time had been spent in the bedroom, where she blankly watched television. She didn't want to see or talk to anyone. The phone hadn't jangled, so she felt safe that Martin had not attempted to call. She couldn't bear the thought of facing him or even talking with him.
She jerked her hand back as she was picking up the pieces of the smashed plate. A small trickle of bright red blood formed into a pool on her finger. She washed the blood under the cold water faucet. At least it's still red, she thought, trying to laugh at her grim humor. As she opened a drawer near the sink looking for a Band-Aid, tears began to swell in her eyes.
"But what about my mind," she said aloud to herself. "What about my miserable mind!"
She could hardly see the small cut through the cloud of tears. Oh, what have I done? How am I going to tell Greg? Her mind raced as she fastened the sticky Band-Aid to her finger. How could he have lied to me for so long? And now, now… must I lie to him? Oh, God, I just don't know what to do.
She bent down and swept the last of the broken china into a dustpan. "Honey, I'm home," her husband's voice yelled from the front door. "Where are you? I… oh, hiding in the kitchen, huh," he said, poking his dark curly head through the open door. "Break something?" he asked.
"Just a plate. Would you like a drink?" Her eyes remained on the small pile in the dustpan. She didn't dare look at him for a moment. Her reddened eyes would have given her away. She couldn't let him know that she had been crying. He would ask too many questions.
"Dinner is ready," is all she could muster. "It's only leftovers, but there's plenty for both of us. Why don't you fix yourself a drink…"
"What's this? No kiss for the conquering hero?"
"I'm sorry, Greg. I… I'm all wet and dirty. Please sit down and tell me about your trip," she said, but not really wanting to hear what had transpired in Dallas. As far as she was concerned, his whole job was a lie, their whole life was in danger of becoming a lie. If the company knew what he was doing, she thought, they would be on the street in five minutes and he would be in jail only a moment later. We're living on the brink of disaster and there is no way out, she thought, fighting back the tears.
Greg fixed them both a drink in the living room as she prepared to bring dinner to the already set table. She stood at the door with a platter of cold chicken in hand, braced herself, then swung the door open, a forced smile on her face and walked to the dining room.
"Next May," he said, choosing a drumstick from the platter. "Next May I will be in line for the regional directorship of the entire West Coast. What do you think of that?"
How could you, she thought as she forced herself to smile. "Oh, Greg, that's wonderful. Does that mean we can move somewhere else?"
He answered her question quickly then started talking about all the opportunity that was in store for them. He talked all through dinner about the raise in salary and prestige and all the benefits they would receive in the coming months.
He was still talking as he helped her clear the table and pulled a coin from his pocket once they were in the kitchen. "Heads you wash," he said, "and tails I do."
Janet watched the coin flip into the air and fall tails up. Greg started filling the sink while she stood by, dishtowel in hand, marveling at the mood. He hadn't talked to her like this for months, not even when he had been promoted to his present position only a week before.
"That's the last of them," he said five minutes later. "Fastest dishwasher in the west… What's the matter, honey? You haven't said two words in the last hour."
"Nothing at all," she lied. "I was just listening to you. I haven't had a chance to say anything."
"So, I talk too much," he kidded. "Well, enough of this talking. Let's get down to some serious business," he said, pulling her close to him and kissing her hard on the mouth, completely surprising her. She let him continue, but didn't return the kiss. Besides the fact that her mind was in torment, she wasn't going to let him get off the hook so easily for not making love to her for three months.
"It's been so long," he whispered. "It's been so long, but that's my fault. I have been so tired trying to work sixteen hours a day. But from now on you shall see a big difference in the sex life around here." His apology surprised her and she wanted to believe him. But she wanted something to do with it too. After all, she had put up with his neglect for three months and she should have something to say about it.
Wordlessly he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. Her tormented mind did not want to make love, but her body needed him desperately. She held back as he started to climb the stairs.
There was questioning in his eyes. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, puzzled.
For a moment she said nothing, but only stared at him.
"My God, Janet, I apologized. I want you as much as you want me. Now let's go up to bed, darling."
"That's not enough, Greg," she said, her tone of voice strange and hard. She wanted to know why he had not made love to her during the last ninety days. She wanted him to tell her his secret. "Just an apology won't do. For three months you've been neglecting me, in bed and out. You've been short tempered and almost cruel. You haven't even taken the time to say 'I love you' more than three times. I think I deserve an explanation."
"Honey," he said. "I told you. It's been my work. I've been doing for us so that we could afford all the nice things we have."
Please, she thought desperately as he talked. Tell me the truth. Tell me about the embezzlement. Confide in me. I'm your wife.
"You don't think it's another woman, do you," he asked. "There's never been anyone but you and there never will be. I do love you, and if I had the words I'd tell you how much."
She was silent. You do have the words, she thought. You can tell me. I wouldn't even care about another woman, but I know it's not that. I'd know if anyone had come between us, but it's not another person, it's greed.
"No, I don't think it's another woman," she said. "I trust you. There is something else between us, something trying to destroy us, and you refuse to talk about it. Greg, remember, I'm your wife and I want to help you."
She watched his smile. He's not going to tell me and he'll destroy us if he doesn't. Martin will destroy us. I don't want to tell you about Martin, she thought. You are not strong enough to take it, but then, I'm not strong enough to tell you. Our marriage might not be strong enough to do either of us any good.
"Come on now," she heard him say as she allowed herself to be cradled in Greg's arms. "I love you and that's all that matters. There's nothing wrong." She responded dutifully as he kissed her again. She wanted him to badly, but her conscience still fought her desire. Her thoughts turned to Martin and what had happened five nights ago in the back seat of his sleek convertible. She remembered the pleasure of his kisses, the excitement of his organ as it slipped inside her, hurting her. She could not forget the degradation he had submitted her to, but somehow the thought still excited her. With her eyes closed, the man who held her now was Martin, not her husband.
"Let's go to bed," he said, waking her from the dream. The pressure of his voice on her ear had awakened the napping desires within her. To bed, she thought as her nipples tightened beneath her lightweight housedress. He held her tightly to his side and her legs rubbed sensuously together, exciting her more as they walked up the steps to the darkened bedroom.
Perhaps they could work it out another way, she thought. But… she felt his hand cup her breast as he stepped slightly to the side and let her go through the door before him. This was the room in which Martin had defiled her marital bed. This was the room where she had become an animal and sucked at him greedily. And now she felt her mouth involuntarily salivating and she wanted to suck Greg, but knew that she could not, not unless he tried something first. She dared not to do anything that would reveal that she had been unfaithful. She could not let him know about Martin, his best friend. What was she going to do? The hand at her breasts kneaded the firm but pliant flesh, reminding her that desire still lived within her.
"You'll never need a bra," he said to her in the darkness. "You're perfect."
Perfect, she thought bitterly, and smiled at him in the half light of the moon that filtered through the drapes. If you only knew what an animal I've become. And there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, Greg, what have I done to you? What have we done to each other?
She put her arm around his waist as they walked toward the bed. Her other hand rubbed across the bulge in his trousers as she reached to unfasten his belt. She must try to make him happy; she must try to be a good lover for him. Somehow they would make out alright.
They stood facing as they worked at each other's clothing. Hurriedly he unfastened her dress and let it fall to the floor, at the same time kicking off his pants that she had unsnapped and unzipped. His shirt came off quickly and he kneeled to slide her panties from her rounded, perfect hips.
The sweet scent of the dampness that was flooding her yearning vagina entered his nostrils. He pulled the panties downward and kissed her belly. He nibbled at her skin above the silky pubic hairs that glistened in their clean blondeness.
Kiss me lower, darling, she prayed silently to herself. Do what Martin did, please! Make me want you more than I want him!
Three months without sex had caught up with him. He had not been unfaithful to his wife, only unable to face her, shamed that he had become a thief, but with the prospect of even further advancement soon to come for him, he was safe. He would not have to steal again. The more than ninety days away from her had left him filled with desire.
His throbbing penis felt as if it were going to burst, and she had not even touched it yet in its full naked state. He was filled with a rising torrent of passion and could not hold himself back.
There was no method, no plan to his lovemaking. He was guided only by what was closest, and at that moment the soft, wet lips of her vagina were nearer to him than anything. Not thinking that she might repulse him, he lowered his head a few inches and started to nuzzle his nose between her legs into the soft, resilient hair that covered her womanhood.
Instead of being revolted as she had always been before Martin, Janet was further excited by the fact that her husband was going into hitherto forbidden territory. He was going to do it to her just like Martin had! Oh, yes, please, yes. Her heart pounded at a furious rate as she felt his nose slide through the soft pubic hair between her legs and part it gently for an infinitesimal moment.
He pushed her back softly onto the bed and she fell with her legs spread crab-like and resting most of her weight back on her shoulders as she lifted her hips to open herself to his probing mouth.
"Oooohhhhhh," she moaned. "Don't stop, darling. That's sooooo good."
Greg was too engrossed to be surprised at her actions. He thought that his wife too had been without sex all this time and would be ready for anything. He would not be surprised that, in order to please herself, she had probably been masturbating during their abstention. The thought of her finger-fucking herself brought an involuntary twitch to his blood-filled penis that was already jerking in anticipation of what was to come.
As he nuzzled in closer, his tongue licked wetly at the smooth, pink flesh that enclosed the soft, hair-lined opening to her vagina. Then, pulling himself up so that he too was completely on the mattress, he felt her tugging desperately at his thigh, beckoning him to turn his body so that she could also indulge in sucking him.
God, he thought to himself, she's really ready. I've never seen her like this before.
Eagerly he turned so that his cock neared her head. He pulled at her clitoris with pursed lips, torturing the small, throbbing bud until Janet thought she could stand it no longer.
"Oh, my darling," she gasped aloud as she pulled his cock toward her lips and with a groan, sucking the whole head into her mouth at once, swirling her tongue around it voraciously.
"Oooooohhhh, baby," he moaned, feeling her moist, wet lips hungrily caress the length of his hardened cock. Her teeth toyed with the edges of his glans, feeling like razor blades cutting into the reddened flesh. She gulped at him, though her mouth was not as full as it had been with Martin's great cock, this was better, this was the man she loved! The man she really loved!
He pointed his tongue and entered the open, waiting passageway to her insides. Her flesh burned at his touch. The tongue circled amateurishly at the inner flesh, while he sucked at her. "Oh, darling," she gasped. "Oh, Martin, please hurry, Martin…"
Martin! The name lanced through his brain like a pistol shot. Martin! She said Martin! His cock suddenly deflated like a balloon in her mouth. Her lower jaw dropped at the sudden shriveling of his penis, unaware in her wild sexual revery of what she had said.
He raised himself on the bed to look at her. His eyes were red with hurt and anger, sheltered by arched brows that could have belonged to Satan himself.
"You called me Martin," he said almost in a whisper. And suddenly, coming to her senses, she remembered.
She had said Martin!
Her face turned to a mask of terror. It was over. She was exposed and vulnerable. From the look on his face she thought she would never get the chance to explain before, in his wild, jealous rage, he killed her.
She froze as he lifted himself erect on his knees. "You bitch!" he screamed as he slapped her viciously across the face. A red welt immediately rose where his hand had struck.
Tears of pain and betrayal streamed down her still heated cheeks. She had betrayed herself. "No, Greg, I-I didn't. You're wrong," she said, looking at him pleadingly, knowing that he didn't believe her.
"You couldn't resist that big stud, could you," he said, then slapped her again. The room seemed to break with the sound of his hand striking her face. "How long," he shouted at her, getting off the bed and walking to the closet. He faced the closet door. "How long, you whore?" he demanded, then slammed his fist through the wooden panel.
Afraid to answer, she sobbed while he waited. "Answer me!" he yelled at her, turning so that she could see the blood red eyes, filled with tears of rage. His fists were clenched at his sides. Every muscle in his body was tight, straining at his skin.
"Once," she answered sheepishly, waiting for his reaction. "Only once."
"Bull," he roared. "You expect me to believe that!"
He took a step toward her. Her voice broke as she spoke. "Please, you must believe me. I was drunk. It was the night you left for Dallas. I was drunk when he brought me home. It was in the car. I…"
"In the car! Christ! Like a couple of high school kids!"
"No, darling, please. I thought it was you," she lied. "I didn't know, until we were in the house and had coffee…"
"You brought him into the house? Into our house? Into our bed?"
"No, I, no… yes… in the house."
"Did he fuck you here, on this bed," Greg asked. His tone had quieted. He moved closer to her, standing over her as she cowered on the bed, trying to tell what had happened.
The same word, Janet thought. He said the same word. Greg had never sworn in front of her except for an occasional damn. "Yes, here."
"Say it, you little whore," he said, leaning on his knuckles. "Say that he fucked you here."
"Yes!" she yelled back. "He fucked me here!" She broke and started sobbing worse. The lewd grin on her husband's face was the same one she had seen when Martin had ravaged her on the very same bedspread.
"Did he play with this," he said, putting his fingers on her clitoris. She nodded helplessly as he began to toy with the still swollen bud that ached from go much attention. "Or this," he asked, shoving his finger hard into the dampened opening of her vagina.
"What else did he do?" Greg demanded. "This," and he bent his head and bit at the softness between her legs. "Tell me!"
This wasn't her Greg. She could not believe that the depraved man slobbering down between her thighs was her husband. She started to mumble what had happened to her, feeling his tongue drive deeper into her cunt as she half whispered out the sordid story of her adultery. It played with her, sending her quickly to a new high of tense excitement as she talked.
"And he made me suck him," she groaned, her body writhing beneath his nibbling lips. "His prick was soft when we started and he made me suck it."
Greg's too, was still soft. But as he nibbled at the open mouth of her fiery cunt he turned his body on the bed. She knew exactly what the gesture meant and bent her head, grabbing the soft, flaccid cock and swallowing it deep in her mouth. It grew rapidly as she began to suck at it. The head rose in temperature, heating the entire inside of her mouth.
Greg raised his head from between her legs, "Then what!"
"He made me hum while I sucked him," she answered, her eyes closed with shame.
"Hum, bitch!" he commanded. "Suck me and hum just like you did with him!"
Quickly she obeyed. From deep within her throat came a sound she had heard only once before, the sound of a woman humming as she sucked greedily at a man's swollen cock. She could feel the massive prick twitching and throbbing in her mouth. It leaked small drops of warm, pungent sperm as she sucked, and she swallowed them greedily. The furnace between her legs was burning her entire body. Greg sucked at her and shot his tongue again and again deep into the open, red lips.
"Then did he fuck you?" he asked her, raising his head for a moment.
"Not exactly," she gasped, almost unable to control her voice. He wouldn't, she thought. Her own husband wouldn't do what Martin had. He's not that cruel!
"What do you mean, not exactly?"
"He-he did it to me from behind," she stammered, unable to look at his contorted face.
"In the ass?" his voice rose increduously. "He fucked you in the ass?"
"Yes, oh yes, but please don't. It-it hurts, darling, it hurts," she pleaded as though her life depended on it.
He pulled at her red anus with his finger, contemplating if he should. But he stopped a moment later. Obviously she had been forced to do it that way and he would have no part of that. He had had enough revenge for now. He wanted his cock to drive deep within her and remind her that her body belonged to him and no one else. If they were to talk, they would do it later.
He quickly turned his body, meeting her face with his. Her eyes were blood red with tears but she thought she saw a sign of remorse as he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, crushing her lips with his.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and ground her pelvis up into his loins. "I won't do that," he said to her. "But I'm going to fuck you like Martin never could! Do you want me to fuck you like that?"
"Yes, Greg, please. Fuck me as hard as you can, harder than ever before. Please fuck me now!" she pleaded, wanting in her agony for him to destroy her.
He repositioned himself and thrust at her with his massive swollen cock, but missed her the first time. Rotating his hips slightly he found the entrance and plunged himself deeply into her. "Oooooohhh," she moaned. "Oooohhh, I love you, I swear I do, darling. Fuck me, please," she begged. Her words and groaning excited him to a new frenzy. For half an hour they had been tormenting each other with sex and with words. And he could hold back no longer. He began to thrust himself up into her hot, contracting pussy as hard as he could.
Each stroke was like the first for her, except that it was more wanted than the last. Each time she locked her legs out wide and drove her hips up to meet him. They were both on fire, as though trying to destroy each other, fighting more than loving. He wanting revenge on her and she wanting to appease his honor, trying to hurt herself as they drove harder and harder against each other.
"Oh, arrggggghhhhh," he groaned as his climax hit him like a thunder bolt. His sperm pulled its way up from the depths of his balls like a hungry bear falling upon a stray piece of meat, the white hot liquid shooting in wild, uncontrolled spurts toward the heat that burned inside the straining belly beneath him. She grunted, contracting the muscles of her cunt tighter and tighter around his plunging cock as he erupted again and spewed relentlessly, spurt after spurt deep into her body.
"Oh, yes!" she screamed. "I'm cummmmmmmiiinnnnggggg, toooooo!!" and arched her back upwards like a tilting wagon about to go over the edge of a cliff into nothingness. His juices filled her and crashed wetly into her own as her muscles contracted time and again, releasing them both from the agonizing torture they had been subjected to for the last thirty minutes.
For a quarter of an hour they lay on the bed. At first they had panted, but the tremors had subsided and they breathed normally. Greg reached to the bedside table for a cigarette. "Why did you do it?" he asked her simply as he lit a smoke for both of them. "Was it just because I had neglected you or have you fallen in love with him?"
"No, he-he forced me," she said.
"How the hell could he have forced you," Greg said, a little angry that she could have allowed something like that to happen… unless…
"I don't want to tell you…" she started to say.
"Now," he said. "Don't waste any time. How did he force you?"
Still sorry that he had not told her about what he had been doing with the company money, she began to relate the story. Greg sat with disbelief in the dark as she continued. "… and so that's how. I couldn't take a chance. I didn't know if he was lying about what you were doing or not."
"He wasn't lying," he said with a defeated tone in his voice. "Everything he said was true." But that was what she didn't want to hear. Why had he become a thief? Why? Now what could they do? He was so bright, the head of his class at the small Midwestern college where they had met. He was always voted the most likely to succeed. What had gone wrong?
"I don't understand how Martin could have found out," he continued. "If he could, then anyone else can if they have the right connections."
"Why, Greg? Why did you do it to begin with?" she said. She was looking for a bridge back to their marriage. If he would tell her perhaps she would begin to understand this man. Perhaps, they still had a chance.
"Mismanagement, I guess," he said. "I could manage my job alright, but for some reason, I couldn't seem to balance our personal budget. There were always too many things we wanted. Too many nights out, too much money spent entertaining prospective contacts, in the higher offices. Maybe I could have done it with a bigger expense account, but there was no other way. I wouldn't be where I am today if I hadn't started taking a little."
"Oh Greg, darling." Janet sobbed gently next to him. "If only I had known."
"It wasn't much at first and it was too easy. There is no problem at all padding loan repayments and adjusting the company books. No one else could have done it without being the manager. In fact, even so, they might not have. I did do a good job, or so I thought. I just don't understand how Martin could have found out."
"He's been with the company a long time," she said. "It probably wasn't hard for him. He's certainly not a stupid man."
"He's a lot smarter than I ever thought," he said.
Janet said nothing more as her husband turned on his side to sleep. What Martin might do was foremost in her mind. She adjusted the covers and settled down for a sleepless night. Tears filled her eyes in silent prayer. She could see no solution and obviously Greg couldn't either. He hadn't even tried to see a way out. The shock must have been too much for him, she thought. He could only wonder how Martin had discovered him. His pride in being caught had been more injured than anything else. He didn't even seem to care about what Martin had done to her.
She closed her eyes and drifted into the half-sleep she would endure for many nights to come.