Marion awoke several hours later, at first not realizing where she was or what circumstances had brought her to the strange room. She stirred, her body coming in contact with that of Herbert, who still slept. She recoiled, starting up as if to leap from the bed. Then remembering that she had been married that afternoon, she sank back against the pillows. Lying there in the gloom of the darkened room she tried to untangle the queer jumble of thoughts that raced through her mind.
First there had been Stan, breaking down her resistance with sly arguments and bolder caresses, subjecting her to one embarrassment after another in the process by which he had awakened in her mind ideas which she would have rejected at the time of her arrival at the Dunes. Thinking back, she recalled that day when, paying no heed to her entreaties, he had exposed her body and driven her into spasms of delightful torture with his obscene caresses.
Then there had been that night when with her own sister’s cooperation she had been a witness to that act politely known as the conjugal relation. Trembling with shame and excited lust, she had shared Mildred’s bed, and, as their naked bodies fused in lascivious heat, she had thrown maidenly innocence to the wind and become as much a party to the orgy as the other participants would allow. She recalled with recurring shame the mad delight she had taken in thrusting her lips against the genitals of both Mildred and Stan as they writhed and pitched their bodies in mutual excitement.
She thought too, of the wild desires the feel of Stan’s scepter had aroused in her, and how eagerly she had looked forward to the consummation of her marriage with Herbert; how when alone with Herbert at last, and stripped of her clothing, she had confessed-yes, boasted without shame of her pre-marital initiation-and had kissed that noble weapon with all the ardour of a bacchante. Then, reminded of the shocking climax-amounting, in fact, to rape, as Herbert so rudely forced his way into her tiny crevice, impaling her helpless body until she had fainted away-she felt extreme nausea and thought for a moment that she would become ill. Her loins still ached from the recent bombardment, reminding Marion of the merciless assault, and she feared to move lest the pain increase.
At this moment Herbert awoke. He turned on his side, facing her, at first with surprise, then remembering the events of the day before, he took her gently in his arms, fondling her lovingly as he begged again for forgiveness. Pouring out words of endearment, he asked that she not be frightened by what had happened, and Marion, calmed by his tender tone, assured him that she had been as much as fault as he.
They lay thus for some time, murmuring in low voices as, still half-asleep, they exchanged mutual confessions of blame for the violence of the night before. But soon, as Marion’s seductively curved body came into closer contact with his own, Herbert felt his excitement returning, and although, to give him his due, he brought every mental exertion to bear in an attempt to dispel his carnal thoughts, his weapon refused to cooperate and came to a stand in slow, methodical jerks.
Marion was not unaware of this happening. Feeling the touch of it against her thigh, she at first thought it to be his hand, and she had shrunk from the contact. Then, noting that he held her with both arms, she gave a little cry of fear as she realized the identity of the groping object.
“Oh, Herbert-please-I can’t do it-not now. Oh, please, dearest Herbert, how can you do such a thing? Is that all men think of?”
Herbert looked at her with an astonishment that was not wholly simulated, then he laughed softly, reassuringly.
“Why, Marion, darling, I assure you that the disturbance you feel down there is not due to any deliberate thought of my own. The rascal is merely responding of his own accord. You see, my dear, a man’s self-control has its limitations. To take you again at this time, while you are sore and exhausted, is furthest from my mind. Nevertheless, that stiffening brute is not equipped with a conscience. He knows only that he is within reach of an adorable resting place, and, despite anything I feel, will not be satisfied until he comes to his goal.”
“But-you’re not going to-let him have his way, are you, Herbert?” Marion asked timorously. The now throbbing monster scraped menacingly against her thigh, and, thinking to ward off any sudden attack it might make, she grasped it timidly but firmly in her hand. The touch of the pulsing organ quickened her breath, and, although she shrank from the thought of it once more tearing into her vitals, she could not resist the desire to feel its smooth hardness, to caress it with tingling fingers.
“You’re not helping to allay its hunger, you know,” Herbert protested. “If you continue that delightful manipulation, the poor fellow might break loose, and if that happens, my darling Marion, I cannot be held responsible for what happens next.”
Marion jerked her hand away, but almost immediately she had seized it again, this time cupping her fingers over the ruddy tip. Suddenly she was trembling with a wild desire, and, fighting to shake it from her mind, she buried her face against Herbert’s shoulder, but at the same time strengthening rather than loosening her grip upon the impatient bludgeon. She began to sob.
Herbert patted her shoulders, soothingly. “Why, what’s the matter, sweetheart? There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise that I will not let the horny scoundrel loose upon your charming nook until you give full consent.”
Marion continued to weep. Then, half-audibly, she blurted out her confession. “Oh, Herbert, I do want it-the very touch of it sets me on fire. But you were so rough when you put it in there. It wasn’t at all like when you-when you put your-!”
He could not here the rest, but he guessed her meaning. “I understand, darling,” he said. “And you want me to repeat that delicate caress? Well, I’m not against such a proposal. In fact it gives me great pleasure to titillate your rosy little button with my lips. But you must realize that such a procedure only makes more ravenous the appetite of that monster which you have now leashed in your pretty little fingers. Unless you are willing to reciprocate as you did before, I am afraid that my kissing the adorable little nest will ruin my good intentions.”
Marion did not answer-with words. He felt her grip tighten on his raging tool as with a little cry she slipped from his arms. Before he knew what had happened she had thrown back the covers, bringing the object into full view, as well as their nude bodies, and, reversing her position with one quick whirling motion, she had sheathed his giant pole in her flaming lips. Nor did Herbert have to reach for his share of this feast. Yoking his neck with her shapely thighs, she thrust her silt squarely against his mouth, and his tongue darted forth to give it greeting. Mouth to sex, the two figures writhed on the bed in a jumble of arms and legs. Gone now from Marion’s mind was all restraint, all shame. As the stiffened organ responded to her lewd ministrations, she thought of nothing but of drawing forth its liquid, of feeling the hot gush flow into her eager throat.
Thus they spent the remainder of the day, Marion exhibiting a nymphomaniacal greed that would scarcely allow Herbert time to rest between bouts. Her face was flushed with unsatiated passion, and, even as they ate the meal that had been ordered at Herbert’s insistence, the corrupted Marion toyed with the thing that gave her such pleasure. She talked in a gabble of obscene, senseless endearments, as though she confused everything with the act she came to regard as the culmination of ardor. Three times during the afternoon she repeated it, and, when at last Herbert’s staff failed to respond to her darting tongue, he began to fear that Marion had gone insane from lust.
He sought to distract her from this relentless pursuit by a joking reference to her capacity for enjoyment. “Really, my dear Marion, I’m afraid that one man is not enough for you. Surely, if your attachment for this new-found delicacy continues at this rate, I’ll be too weak to move. Why, look what you’ve done to my poor prick.” He glanced ruefully at the now shrunken organ, lying flaccidly against his leg. “Why, it is utterly exhausted. I venture that nothing could bring it to attention for at least twenty-fours hours-not even if a lovely young virgin were to walk into the room and place herself at my disposal.”
Herbert’s words were by no means as casually impromptu as they sounded. Within his mind there had been for some time the desire to be a witness to Marion’s participation in carnal pleasure with another man, remembering Harry Hamilton’s strange delight in watching him as he plunged with incestuous rapture atop the body of his sister. He had dismissed the first feeling of horror he had had concerning amiable cuckoldry, and for some time he speculated upon the chances of persuading Marion to give herself to another man in his presence.
Marion, too, had found herself entertaining similar thoughts. With her husband’s once rigid tool shrunk to flabby impotence, her mind had once again begun to see visions of Stan Cochrane’s muscular body, and all the unsatisfied longing she had experienced during that night when Stan, with his peculiar moral code, had refused to take her virginity, now returned. Cannily, she now saw a chance to bring up a subject that she hoped would win approval from Herbert.
“How about Mildred?” she asked boldly. “Do you think that Mildred’s lovely nakedness would arouse that shrivelled thing?”
“Perhaps so,” Herbert said, his interest aroused by the idea. “But surely Stan would object. And how about Mildred? I have heard that for all her flirting around-her kissing other men and even letting them gaze upon her charms-that she is as faithful as any man could demand. I doubt very much, therefore, if she would be amenable to such a proposal. Besides,” he added, watching her covertly, “what would you think of such a thing? Would you share your husband with a woman-with your sister?”
“If it would make you happy, darling, I would not object. I think I would enjoy a chance to revenge myself upon Stan by aiding in a scheme to persuade Mildred to unfaithfulness. After all, he is to blame for the state you see me in. Before I met him I was a pure and unsullied young girl. It was his continual goading and persuasion that has brought me to this state.”
“And what about your own passion?” Herbert asked. Secretly his mind was jubilant at the evident willingness Marion had shown thus far. “Would you perhaps seek similar enjoyment with Stan? Is that it? Do you not think that, in fairness to Stan, he should be allowed to have his way with you? That is, if I take his wife, should he not be permitted to have mine in exchange?”
Marion’s heart leaped at the thought, but she managed to remain casual in manner as she answered: “That depends entirely upon you and Stan, dear.”
“Very well, then,” he replied. “I shall have Mildred for a night, and you shall have Stan. Shall we return to the Dunes, or shall we telephone them and ask them to come here-for a celebration of our marriage?”
“I think that would be best for them to come here,” Marion replied. “You know, there are so many people continually dropping in at their place, we might be discovered. I’ll call Mildred at once.”
Eager with anticipation of the denouement of this strange pact, Marion picked up the telephone from the bedside table, and, after giving instructions to the operator for the long-distance call, she waited with unconcealed impatience for the connection to be made.
In a few minutes Marion was speaking to Mildred, telling her to come with Stan up to the city at once. She refused to discuss details or answer Mildred’s puzzled inquiry, saying only that she and Herbert planned to celebrate and that Mildred and Stan must come.
Herbert’s body tingled with renewed desire as he heard that Mildred had accepted the invitation. When Marion returned the telephone to the table, he took her in his arms and squeezed her lovingly. “Ah, my darling, I’m happy to see that, despite your upbringing, you’ve quickly adapted yourself to the pleasures of sex. There is nothing, after all, in our plan, that is loathsome. Variety is the spice of life and I’m sure that many marriages that go on the rocks because of infidelity would turn out to be ideal relationships if the husbands and wives would enter into such agreements as ours. For while I love you very much, and am greatly excited by your charms, still I am not immune to a temporary longing to enjoy another woman. And if I do it, why shouldn’t you? After all, a woman has the same right to a change as has a man.”
So, lying in restful ease, they planned a suitable reception for their coming guests.