It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in September when Dale opened the door of Gloria's house, even though no one had rung the doorbell. It was exactly two o'clock. A few moments later, Dale summoned Lois, who was idly reading a magazine in the living room. She gaped at the newcomer whom Dale had ushered into the room; but before she could say anything, Dale said:
"Come on, dear, we have some things to do."
"What things?" Lois said in a whisper.
"Never mind. Just get your shoes on—we're getting out of here."
Lois leaped into action, slipping on a pair of sandals and bolting out the door while giving one last look of surprise and alarm at the person who stood, not very confidently, in the middle of the room.
Gloria had been doing laundry in the basement, and as she brought up a big load of laundry in a plastic basket she said, "Dale, was there someone at the door?"
When she saw who it was, she dropped the basket and stood stock-still.
"What are
you
doing here?" she said accusingly.
"Gloria, I'd like to talk to you," Harvey said mildly but firmly.
Her brain was in a whirl, but she figured out the situation fairly quickly. "This is Dale's doing, isn't it?" She knew Lois wouldn't have had the guts to bring this loathed individual back into her life.
"It is," Harvey said heavily. "I've gotten to like him."
Gloria eyed him narrowly.
Just exactly what are you two men conspiring to do?
"I hope we can talk," Harvey went on.
"We have nothing to do talk about," Gloria said shortly, turning her back to him and preparing to take up the load of laundry to an upstairs bedroom.
"I think we do," Harvey said, and he marched right up to Gloria, took her arm, and made her turn and face him.
She was dumbfounded. "Don't you touch me!" she almost screamed.
"Calm down, Gloria," Harvey said almost condescendingly. "Let's talk about this like civilized people."
"What do we have to talk about?" she said in a high, nervous voice.
"It's very simple. I want to be back in your life. I've apologized for what I did—apologized many times. I can't undo the harm I've done, but I hope to make it up to you somehow—if you'll let me."
He was standing so close to her that she was forced to look up at him. There was just the faintest trace of alarm in her expression.
"Why should I give you a second chance?" she said, still hostile.
"Because I love you," Harvey said simply. "I realize that now. I love you more than I did before. I've missed you these last few years—my life's been empty. You seem to have done well for yourself, and now you have Dale. But I hope you can make room for me too."
"I think you presume too much, sir!" she said with exaggerated formality. Her face was becoming red with fury and resentment.
"Do I?" Harvey said placidly. And he calmly planted a kiss on Gloria's mouth.
She pulled away almost at once and cried, "Oh!" And she delivered a sharp slap to Harvey's cheek.
He didn't blink an eye, even though the cheek turned red where her hand had contacted it. Instead, he pulled her to him and forced her to kiss him again.
She wriggled in his arms, but he wouldn't let go. With one hand he held her in the small of her back, and with the other he held the back of her head so she couldn't pull away. She made moaning sounds of frustration and anger as their lips remained pressed together. After what seemed like minutes she broke away—although she realized to her humiliation that she had done so only because he had let her.
That look of alarm came into her eyes again, even as she cried, "Get away from me!"
But it was she who tried to get away from him. And that was her mistake.
As she sought to go around him, she forgot that an ottoman was lying in its usual place next to an easy chair near where they were standing. She tripped and landed on it in an undignified position, her torso lying flat over it while her legs dangled behind—almost like Anne Boleyn on the chopping block ready to be decapitated.
Harvey sized up the situation in a flash and took decisive action.
Kneeling down behind Gloria, he pulled the loose slacks she was wearing down to her knees, taking her underwear with them in a single swift motion. As her eyes bulged with surprise and outrage, she heard him unzip his pants.
"Don't you dare!" she said, just as in that awkward moment with Dale in the state park.
But Harvey was past noticing, or caring. As he saw Gloria's two nether orifices in front of him, his member suddenly expanded to full length. He kept in mind what Dale had told him about Gloria's unexpected fondness for rear entry; but not wanting to waste time with hunting around for lubricant, he decided that the other place was more promising.
He plunged into her pussy, eliciting a harsh groan ("Ohhhhh!") from his former spouse. She started wriggling, but he held her down with a hand placed firmly in the small of her back.
(In fact, Gloria could have easily pried herself away from Harvey's clutches, but she realized that she was in the midst of a sort of laboratory experiment. Harvey had, indeed, changed—but had he changed enough to take control of this situation, as befits a big, strong man determined to have his way with a woman?
We'll see . . .
)
He pounded her efficiently and systematically, her wriggling creating a pleasant sensation of resistance to his thrusts. He was confident enough of himself that he held on to Gloria's hips to steady himself, sometimes reaching around to stroke her sex while he worked. That turned her groans into moans of pleasure; and when he exploded in her, she let out a girlish squeal showing that she too had found some enjoyment in the proceedings.
He stayed in her as they both came down from their climaxes, then pulled wetly out of her. He saw his seed dripping thickly out of her pussy, dribbling down her thighs. He pulled up her underwear and slacks back to their original positions and helped her to her feet.
She eyed him with feigned coldness. Breathing hard, she said, "Well, aren't you the he-man?"
He just smiled, more to himself than to her.
"If you think that little escapade is going to win you back into my heart, buster, you'd better think again!"
"We're not done yet," Harvey said calmly.
And, as Gloria looked at him with expanded eyes, he picked her up in his arms as if she were a lightly filled duffel bag and headed for the stairs.
"Put me down, you brute!" she cried—but she was laughing through her scowl.
He deposited her unceremoniously on the big king-size bed in the master bedroom—the bed that Gloria had refused to lie on ever since Harvey had bolted from the scene. As he gazed placidly down at her, he said, "Are you going to take your clothes off, or do I have to rip them off?"
