TWO CAN PLAY - CHAPTER 4
When it was time for Steve to return to Saudi Arabia Rachel suggested a small dinner party to mourn his departure. For the occasion she wore the same dress as on the evening she picked up Matt Hudson. By contrast, Carol chose an attractive, but unrevealing, high necked, long skirted brocade. As a consequence, it was Rachel who drew the eyes of both men, much to Carol's annoyance.
Paul still found his wife alluring and loved to see her dressed up. She had a good figure, carried herself well and knew how to wear clothes to make both them and her look their best. He knew that Steve had always fancied Rachel, but she had never given him any reason to think he had any chance of fucking her. It looked as if tonight he might be in luck.
Rachel made sure that Steve sat next to her on the settee. Almost the full length of her leg, from ankle to thigh, was revealed by the slit in her skirt. Bare flesh showed above the top of her stocking and the strap of her suspender disappeared beneath the material of her dress. Paul's mouth was dry as he looked, realising that his friend had the same view - but he was closer.
Drinks were poured and consumed; light banter was exchanged; the temperature rose. Laughing at a remark made by Steve, Rachel rubbed her hand up and down his thigh. For all her free thinking and liberated ideas, Carol seemed to be more than a little peeved by the behaviour of their hostess. It was plainly obvious that Rachel had set her cap at Steve and was determined to inflame him.
Paul was ambivalent about the situation. Intrigued at seeing his wife in action again, but concerned at the dramatic change in her attitude towards sex. He was looking at a new and frightening Rachel; frightening because of her sudden and unnatural lack of inhibition. Harold Arlington the third had been a sexual revolution.
Rachel was filled with the false gaiety produced by too much drink and Paul squirmed at her girlish giggles and raucous, almost coarse, laughter. This was not the woman he had known and loved for ten years. Her open flirtation with Steve - no, not flirtation; more an obviously sensual provocation - was completely out of character. Or was it? Had Paul unwittingly opened a Pandora's box? How could she change so completely and so rapidly?
"Fill my glass, darling." Rachel held it out towards Paul.
"I think you've had enough."
"I'll decide that." The reply was delivered sharply and with more than a little venom.
"In that case, you can get it." Paul realised he sounded petulant.
Steve took the glass. "I will. Want some more myself." He crossed to the drinks cabinet where he held up an empty bottle. "The well's dry."
"There's another in the kitchen."
"Right."
Steve left the room and the gaiety went with him. Paul was morose, Carol grim and Rachel deflated in the presence of such obvious disapproval. A heavy silence was broken by a shout from the kitchen.
"I don't think Steve can find it." Rachel looked pointedly at Paul, but he clenched his lips tight together in a deeper sulk. "All right." She rose from the settee, a trifle unsteadily, and headed towards the kitchen. "I'll give him what he wants." She turned at the door and wagged her finger. "Don't get into mischief while I'm away."
Paul and Carol glared at each other as Rachel disappeared from view. Neither spoke or made a move.
In the kitchen Steve was vaguely looking into cupboards, opening and closing doors with unseeing eyes.
"Can't find any."
"You're not looking properly." Rachel went to a cupboard, already dismissed by Steve, and took out a bottle.
"Swell party." He grinned at her.
Rachel giggled. "Sounds like the title of a song."
Steve nodded. "Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra. Bored by the company, they got drunk together."
Rachel gazed at him. "I'm bored."
"You want to get drunk together?"
She shook her head. "I'd rather do something else."
Steve looked around. "Now? In here?"
"Right now and right here."
Rachel lifted up her skirt and sat on the edge of a large and sturdy wooden table. She opened her legs. Steve looked appreciatively at what she revealed.
"Why, Rachel, you're not wearing knickers."
She smiled. "No."
"Come out of your shell a bit, haven't you?"
"Just a little."
He ran his tongue round his lips. "I want to kiss you."
"Then do it." She puckered her lips.
"No. Here."
Steve dropped to his knees and buried his face in the warmth between her legs. Bracing herself with her arms she leaned back and closed her eyes as she felt his tongue exploring the delicate folds of her vagina. She was already wet with desire.