She had taken pills to make her sleep, and now it was morning.
Bill and Judy had fixed their own breakfast and left for school without waking her. The emptiness of the house seemed only to compound the tangled state of her emotions. Last night she had seen her teen-age son and daughter fucking each other. Yet it didn't seem to shock her as much as she felt it should. Perhaps so many things had happened lately that she was becoming stupefied. But she wouldn't, she couldn't let last night's incident slip from her mind as if nothing had happened. She had to do something. She had to at least say something.
She drank a cup of instant coffee, then dressed herself conservatively in slacks and a boyish blouse.
It was clear to her now what she must do. She would go next door and give that fucking whore Barbara a piece of her mind.
Arlene applied only a bare amount of make-up. She looked disapprovingly in the mirror, studying the disarranged, slept-on hair that surrounded her pretty face. She pulled the blonde strands straight behind her neck and slipped a rubber band around the knot. She looked pretty, she knew, but not as pretty as she was capable of looking. It didn't matter. She was going next door to tell Barbara exactly what kind of a sluttish pig she was. Why should she make herself beautiful to do that?
Arlene stammered when Sam Carter, not Barbara, opened the door. Wasn't he supposed to be at work? Wordlessly, he left the door open for her, and she followed him through the entrance hall and into the living room.
He looked like he had a hell of a hangover. He was wearing a wrinkled robe, tied loosely around his waist. His hair was in shambles. His eyes were red and not fully open.
"I came to see Barbara," Arlene announced coolly, remembering how vulgarly Sam had pawed and fondled her at last night's party.
"Out shopping," he said.
His terse response left her with nothing to say, and she felt suddenly deflated. She feared she would have second thoughts about telling off Barbara, and she never would get the courage again to denounce the evil neighbor to her face.
"I'll… I'll come back later," Arlene said.
Then she felt Sam nudge her. He stood beside her, wrapping his long arm around her shoulders.
"Stay. I'll fix you a drink."
Just the touch of his arm started curious tingles of desire racing to her brain. She stepped away from him, saying, "No, I better leave."
"For God sakes, Arlene, stay and have a drink. No reason for you to be rude." Despite his unkempt appearance, Sam's tone was authoritative and charming.
"Just one," she responded, the strange passion still raging in her belly. "I really shouldn't, but…"
He went to the bar to prepare her drink. Damn! What's wrong with me, anyway? she mentally scolded. I'm hot! I'm sexually aroused! But why? Get a hold on yourself, Arlene French! Don't you dare let him seduce you! He's going to try, so don't let him! That one dirty little episode with Ralph the other night ought to be enough to last you a lifetime! Now don't get horny, Mrs. Harold French! Don't you dare get horny!
What astounded Arlene most about her mental state was the weakness of her convictions. A week ago the mere thought of getting seduced by Sam Carter would have sent her reeling in genuine horror. Now the seduction seemed naughty, something to be avoided. Naughty. But not sickening. Was it true what they said – that after the first time every infidelity got easier and easier? She hoped not. She still had her sense of morality. What Barbara and Bill had done last night was wrong. And what Bill and Judy – brother and sister – had done was horribly wrong. But why, while she observed it happening, had Arlene felt only lust? And why now was she less outraged than she wanted to be?
She knew a basic change was occurring in her character, and she felt she must fight the change with all her might. But did she have the resolve to fight it? Was the new Arlene which now struggled for power any different than the old Arlene? Had she always been potentially promiscuous? Had her supposed prudishness been a disguise by which even she had been fooled? She had to stop thinking these thoughts.
Sam brought her a drink and guided her to the sofa. He sat beside her.
She realized she had an excuse for leaving soon. It was eleven, and at one she had to go to the jail to visit Hal. It would take her at least an hour to get ready.
Five minutes after she'd positioned herself modestly on the sofa, she was wrapped in Sam's arms, kissing him hungrily. She couldn't remember exactly how it had happened, and she didn't care. She knew only that she was good and horny, and she wasn't fighting.
He placed his palm on her slacks just above her knee. The contact electrified her. Her breath was already irregular, her tits ached to be touched, her pussy was wet and impatient.
"You're a pretty damn hot bitch today, Arlene. Hotter than you were at the party." He mumbled the words around her tongue.
His kiss was more intoxicating to her than the drink she had only half finished. She ran her hand across his rugged, handsome face, unshaven since yesterday. His muscles felt good against her. He was so damn good-looking it was driving her crazy. If he only knew just how awfully hot she was, he wouldn't be wasting all this time on preliminaries.
A last pang of guilt stabbed her mind. She wrestled it aside by thinking that she was getting revenge. Barbara had seduced her son and… No, no. What a bunch of crap. It had nothing to do with revenge; it had everything to do with her natural physical need for sex. When finally she admitted this last fact to herself, she was stunned – and she broke the kiss.
She felt suddenly that she had been imprisoned all her life, and now she could be liberated. All she had to do was break the last barrier. She formed the words mentally, the words she wanted to say. But she wouldn't dare. Women aren't that blunt. But she had to say them. She felt so close to freedom, all she had to do was speak out and decree her emancipation.
Sam had no idea that a mental war was raging in Arlene's mind. He planted his lips back on hers, thrusting his tongue far into her open, eager mouth. After ten seconds, she again pulled away.
The words seemed to flow from her now, and they came far easier than she'd expected. "Sam, this is silly. I only have a few minutes, so let's not waste them sitting here on the couch. Take me into the bedroom and let's fuck each other! That's what we both want, isn't it?" Her tone was free of guilt.
She felt suddenly relieved. It was as if she were floating. Finally… finally she had spoken aloud and admitted to herself who she really was. A sexual being. And it felt just beautiful.
The happily stunned Sam took her hand and led her promptly to the bedroom. She giggled joyously.
She wondered how it was that she was thirty-three years old and just now discovering herself.