I scrambled to change my clothes before Jack came upstairs. As it turned out, Dean was right. Jack walked into the bedroom only a few minutes after Dean had exited. I felt panicked, certain that somehow Jack would know what had happened, would be able to read on my face what I had been doing, or would somehow be able to smell the lingering aroma of my initial foray into wantonness. Not five minutes earlier, I had been on my knees in front of another man, willing to do whatever he wanted, and now I was kissing my husband and asking how his day was.
And later...
What would I be doing later? Surely I couldn't go through with what Dean wished. That would be insane. To perform fellatio on him in the middle of the night in my own living room while my husband and daughter slept upstairs. To use my mouth on him, or rather, have him use my mouth for his pleasure. It was a crazy thought. But it was also an unbelievably alluring one. It would be like living out my wildest fantasies, wouldn't it?
No, I couldn't do it. It was too dangerous. Better to just not go downstairs, not let Dean in again. Let this whole evening just fade away like a memory.
But it didn't fade away.
As the night wore on, progressing toward some pivotal point from which I still believed I could turn back, I relived the scene with Dean again and again. I lay in bed with Jack watching television. Well, he was watching, and I was in turmoil, still unsure what I was going to do. I wanted to listen to the part of me that believed that fantasy should remain just that, but to actually turn fantasy into reality was oh so tempting. The things Dean would make me do if I just let him. Could I even turn back at this point. Would that just anger him to the point that he would wait for me to be alone and then just come and take me, violently. That was another intriguing thought. It was unreal the torrent of sexuality that Dean had released. There was not much I could do to hold it back.
Later that night, when I was sure Jack had fallen into a deep sleep, I eased out of bed wearing a sexy little light blue babydoll nightie that Jack had paid little attention to, which was the norm for my husband. I crept out of the room and down the hall, breathing a sigh of relief at seeing or hearing no signs of life from Shannon's room. Hopefully she was deep asleep as well.
I don't know what was going through my mind as I descended the stairs. I was in some type of self-induced sexual trance, I think. Only concerned with satisfying the erotic feelings that had been stirred in me, not worrying about any consequences that my actions might bring. And still believing on some level that it was just a playful game, that Dean probably wouldn't even be outside waiting for me. That I could just check quickly and then go back up to bed, back to the straight-laced existence I had lived all these years.
I made my way through the darkened rooms to the sliding glass door at the rear of the house. I slowly opened the blinds and peered into the night. He wasn't there. The back yard was still and empty, but for a long unused playset we had bought for Shannon years ago. My body relaxed as the tension drained away, and I realized that maybe I hadn't really wanted this to happen after all. That was when Dean stepped into view. He had been waiting at the side of the sliding door, and must have seen the movement of the blinds. I froze instantly, all the tension returning to me as if my body had just been magnetized. The spell he had over me evidently hadn't worn away in the few hours since our upstairs meeting. I watched his lips move, and though I couldn't hear his voice, I could read his lips.
"Open it," he mouthed, pointing to the door latch.
I couldn't break my immobility, realizing that here was yet another turning point. Another moment of decision in which I could turn and scurry back up the stairs, refusing to let my behavior get out of control, no matter what signals my body was sending me.
"Now," he shaped with his lips.
That word pushed me over the edge. It was an order I couldn't help following. My heart fluttering in my chest, I fumbled to twist the lock and slid the door open, removing the last barrier preventing Dean from doing what he wanted with me. I stood before him in blue lace, feeling a soft summer breeze caress my body, blowing through my nightie and increasing the hardening of my nipples.
"What a lovely vision you are," he said. "You're mine now."
He said it without a trace of query. It was simply a given fact.
"Lead on, slut. You know what to do."
Without a word, I turned and led him back through the kitchen to the living room. I felt him more than heard him following me. It was almost as if I were a dog on a leash, and he my master. With great trepidation I stopped and turned to face him in the middle of the living room.
The only light was that of the moon, finding its way through the immense bay window that looked out upon our front yard. The moonlight painted us with a surreal midnight glow. From the window you could also see several of the houses across the street, and hence if someone were looking at our house from one of those houses, they could see the window, though I'm not sure if they could actually see into it, especially at night. I didn't want to take any chances and began to reach for the shade. Dean grasped my arm to stop me. He shook his head, denying me.
I pleaded with my eyes.
"Please," I whispered.
"No," he answered with his own firm whisper, ending the matter and establishing who was in charge. "The next time you say please, you will be begging for my cock. Do you understand?"
His grip tightened on my arm.
"Yes," I answered.
He then used my arm to pull me toward him, forcing my body against his. He kissed me hard, using his tongue to pry my mouth open. His hands were all over me then, roughly touching and squeezing me. Groping my ass, holding me against him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my belly. He mauled my breasts with his strong hands. I couldn't think straight. It was an assault on my senses, like I was a new toy that he had been waiting to play with.
I was becoming overwhelmed. This was happening way too fast, but there was no way to stop it now. I had let him in. I had gotten myself into this situation, and saw no way out but to see it through to the end.
