copyright @ calibeachgirl
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Chapter 2 - Late September, 1941
On Thursday morning, the eighteenth the sun rose to bathe the island in bright rainbows and the light fell across Jim's face.
"Ohhhh," Jim moaned, pulling his pillow over his head. "Damn, baby, you've got to talk to those girls of yours to be quiet in the morning." He felt a hangover pounding but had nothing to drink the night before. As a matter of fact, he hadn't had anything to drink since the first girl was born. Why he felt that way, though, he had no idea, whatsoever. Getting older, he thought, wasn't as much fun as he thought. "My head is killing me."
Damn! His head hurt... try and hide it, he thought. Bethany has enough to worry about without adding that to... the drums beating in his head were pounding a rhythm that made his brain scream.
Bethany rolled over and onto him, one warm thigh on each side of his face and taking one finger to her lips, slowly put it into her mouth. Withdrawing it, she took the wetness to his nose and flicked it.
"My girls? Like you weren't there at some point in making them?" She looked at her wedding ring. The nick was still there from that night, a constant reminder of what she had done to him and her vow to never do it again. That was the worst time of her life. Thank God, she prayed each evening, she came to her senses, even if it took several weeks before she had returned to their bedroom.
Thank God, he thought, she was changing the subject. "Well, I'll admit to being there at some point. How do I know you didn't have one of your boyfriends over?" Hmmm... maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to say, considering what had become a very intimidating, bothering situation. For a moment, he wondered if there was a hint of truth in his jest. He was becoming very, very insecure in the bedroom. How worse it was going to be, he had no idea but it made him more nervous than flying into von Richthofen's Circus.
"You sorry, old man," she laughed, "if that was the case, I'd have thrown you out of my bed long ago." She looked carefully at his face, looking for some reaction to her last statement. She saw something flash across his face, something uneasy. Why would he be uneasy? He was the only one she had ever loved, would ever love, could ever love. There was no one else. It was only a joke... maybe, not such a smart one, she realized. Something was bothering him. She knew from his actions in and out of bed. If something was bothering him, it was bothering her even more and she didn't even know what it was.
Her hand reached under the covers, eliciting a much different moan as her fingers grasped him, attempting to bring him to hardness.
"Sorry old man? Sometimes, I... Kick me out of your bed? Never! Ha." Think fast, Ewart, he thought to himself, think fast! His head quickly disappeared under the covers and within a few moments, he had Bethany moaning totally out of control as she writhed on the bed, grabbing the sheets and tearing them loose from the bed.
Her knees bent higher as he grabbed her ankles and pushed them forward. God, that felt so good, she thought, push harder, please, push harder... "ahhhhhhhhhhh... damn, Jimmy, don't you dare stop now."
Bethany's back arched clear of the mattress as she humped against his face two, three, four times and then started to relax but then, as he continued probing and kissing, started once more, this time much louder.
Her strong movements caused him to lose his grip on her silky smooth legs and she quickly wrapped her thighs over his shoulders and around his neck.
She lost track how many times she had peaked because he never let her come down enough to tell the difference from one to another.
When Bethany's knees finally lay flat, he rolled over and lay on his back, breathing hard and reached for her hand. God, he wished she'd get there faster...
As her own breathing slowed, she turned her head to the left and smiled at her husband. "Thank you..." was all she could say. Jesus Christ, 'thanks' is all I can say? After all that? What the hell is the matter with me? OK, time to make him feel good, now.
Jim lay there, staring at the ceiling. Yesterday afternoon, he was hard as a rock, at least for a while and knew he should be as hard as a rock now. When he started kissing his wife, he was... and then it went away. Not right away, but after more than fifteen minutes waiting until he was sure she was completely satisfied, he felt himself slipping away. Maybe, maybe he waited too long to love her... that was it, he hoped, maybe that was it.
It was happening more often than not, now... erratic and inconsistent, to be sure, but still present.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling hoping she hadn't been paying as close attention as he had. Each time, he begged off, saying he just wanted to please her, that was enough, he tried to convince her... and, himself.
Bethany fell back asleep, still holding his hand, dreaming of making love to him like that first romantic night so many years ago, the night she gave him her virginity and love and he gave her a new wonderful life.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling until he finally couldn't stand it any longer and had to get up. Time to see the doctor, he realized, sadly, and see what's going on with him. He wasn't THAT old, was he? Jesus, they've only been married ten years. Forty-five wasn't too old, was it?
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, worried for the first time since he met Bethany about something like this. She was only in her early thirties and once they had started sleeping together, Bethany Rose discovered a voracious sexual appetite. He was worried... worried that he soon wasn't going to be enough for her. He didn't know what he would do if it came to that. He knew she loved him but this was something else, entirely. Could she separate sex from love in her mind? What would he do if it came to that?
Damn it!
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, worrying as every husband had done at one time or another: What was his wife doing when he wasn't around?
Later that morning, Jim brought the dishes over and started setting the table. He stopped and looked at the table and then went outside to fill a vase with flowers. Bethany was still asleep and he decided to just let her stay in bed. He had a lot of thinking to do. In an almost mindless daze, he continued walking back and forth from the china closet to the table. He was startled by the soft sound of a woman's footsteps padding across the hardwood floor.
Think, think, think... he felt like Winnie the Pooh. Oh, bother.
"Jimmy... why didn't you wake me, sweetheart?" Bethany put her good arm around her husband and pulled his head down for a deep kiss. As her tongue slipped between his lips, her hand slowly reached down and caressed him, causing him to become incredibly aroused. My God, she thought, he's hard as a rock!
"Forget the dishes, Jimmy, you still have unfinished work in the bedroom." She reached around his waist and walked him back to the bedroom, but before she could return from washing in the bathroom, he had lost his erection and had left the room in frustrating shame.
By her birthday Friday morning, Bethany knew there had been a disturbing change in her husband. While he brought her to an incredible number of orgasms orally, for some reason he was no longer really having sex with her... hadn't, really, she thought, for several weeks. It had been sporadic and then, nothing at all. She couldn't even remember when the last time was. Oh, my God, she realized, she couldn't even remember.
Yesterday he seemed to lose interest. After orally pleasuring her, he didn't complete the act of love, again. She missed him roughly filling her, gently teasing her, giving himself to her completely as she felt his heat erupt deep insider her.
And when she brought him back to the bedroom yesterday, by the time she returned from the bathroom he had left her alone. What was happening to them? She was scared. What was happening to their marriage? She was frightened. What was happening to their love? She was terrified. No, they still loved each other, of that she was sure of.
