Wolf Cree

Ada sighed, leaned her head back, and kissed the automobile manufacturer James Shaffer deeply on the lips and then turned back and watched Shaffer watching her in the mirror. Shaffer, naked, was sitting on a velvet-upholstered boudoir chair closely facing a wide, full-length mirror.

They were in the master bedroom of the Highland Park lakeside mansion of James's department store owner friend, George Vaughn, on the banks of Lake Michigan in the northern suburbs of Chicago. Ada, also fully naked except for red lace-up dress boots, was sitting in his lap, also facing the mirror. He had his legs spread a bit, and Ada's left leg was lying on top of Shaffer's left leg, and her right leg was held higher above his right leg by the crook of Shaffer's right arm. His right hand was palming and squeezing Ada's left breast, the fingers of his left hand were rubbing inside her slit and flicking at her clitoris, and his cock was encased in her ass.

Shaffer was gently stroking up and down inside Ada, and from time to time he'd elevate her pelvis with his thighs so that both he and she could watch the root of his cock sliding in and out of her, at sight that enhanced both of their level's of pleasure and desire. The fingers of Ada's left hand were engaged with those Shaffer was rubbing her clitoris with, alternating between moving his fingers with hers to heighten the pleasure he was giving her and moving her fingers to touch where the root of his hard and thick cock was stroking up into her. He was making deep, rattling, and gasping noises at the base of his ragged breathing as both of them watched themselves giving and receiving a long-practiced pleasure.

The third person in the room, George Vaughn, was standing next to the mirror, also fully naked, and stroking his erection as he watched James and Ada take their pleasure with each other. He had been able to stage this occasional ménage à trois because his wife was somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on a ship en route to a shopping spree on the European continent,

After a few moments of voyeurism, Vaughn came over to the chair and crouched down, his thighs on either side of Shaffer's, and Shaffer accommodated his friend by elevating Ada's pelvis and by spreading the lips of her vagina wide with his fingers. Vaughn's cock was then slowly fed into the shared Ada. Ada panted and moaned heavily as she always did as the two friends bottomed themselves in her and started a well-practiced rhythm of double penetration.

For some twenty minutes there was only the sound of bass and baritone groaning and grunting and a higher, feminine-pitched moaning, sighing, and purring. And then, nearing mutual ejaculation, Shaffer and Vaughn became more wildly active, kissing Ada's lips and neck in succession and each other across her shoulders, and using their hands to squeeze her breasts and work on each other's nipples and to lift and sink her body on theirs in ever-quicker motion until Ada's cries of fully being taken and of flowing inside both of her passages marked the shared climax. As the three cooled down, they stayed there in front of the mirror and murmured endearments to each other and explored each other's curves and crevices with their hands.

And then, in what had almost become a ritual, as the two men slowly became aroused again, Vaughn pulled Ada up from Shaffer's lap and carried her over to the edge of the bed, laid her gently down there on her back, spread her legs, and slowly entered her once more with his reengorged cock and fucked her while Shaffer came behind Vaughn, entered the department store mogul's ass with his cock, and, in turn, fucked his friend. And, as their periodic meetings of the fourteen years that had now transpired since their first three-way coupling all ended, Ada eventually left the two men on Vaughn's bed, entwined in each other's arms, Shaffer fucking Vaughn, and went to her bath and then to her own room for the night—alone.

The fourteen years of Ada's marriage had actually been very happy and rewarding ones. John Raven had proven to be a gentle and devoted husband and, although no Charles Raven in bed, had been devoted to giving Ada full satisfaction there too. And Ada had been happy with John's lovemaking. But she had always wanted more and more variety, so she had continued to find opportunities to meet with James Shaffer and George Vaughn in either Detroit or Chicago at least twice a year during the last decade and a half. She also had continued to find opportunities to be taken by Charles. Shaffer and Vaughn were just men she enjoyed coupling with—together. And she had matured considerably since she was smitten blind by Charles. She had grown to be able to see him as the self-centered opportunist and dandy that he was. But being able to see through him didn't mean that she wasn't interested in continuing to couple with him at opportune moments, usually just beyond public notice, which excited them both, and hurriedly and wildly and overwhelmed with mutual lust. Charles was a masterful cocksman, and Ada had not been willing to give that up. And she didn't give it up right up until Charles was killed in Europe the previous winter, his World War I American volunteer Lafayette Escadrille airplane having been riddled full of German bullet holes high over the rolling Belgium countryside.

Now her extramarital lovemaking solely entailed James Shaffer and George Vaughn, which only made her stolen nights with them all the more valuable. Not that she didn't receive offers of fuller activity. At thirty-three, Ada was still a beautiful, nubile woman, who any hot-blooded man would lust after. And she and her family had, to this point, been blessed and lived in high visibility in the northern Indiana region. John's insurance agency had been highly successful and had brought them a large house in Warsaw and an even more sprawling house on the banks of Winona Lake, just a short distance outside of the town, where they spent their fall and spring weekends and the summer months. John had weak lungs, though, and they also spent much time on a dude ranch in Arizona, where Ada delighted in "roughing it" and helping with the cooking and the running of the ranch while they were in residence. It was also during their sojourns in Arizona that Ada learned much of Native American remedies for illnesses and wounds from an old Indian woman who lived by a usually dry gulch not far from the ranch house and where she acquired an individualistic style of painting western landscapes and of revealing the essence of the western spirit in oils.

Ada had been blessed with four children, beginning with her eldest son, Dan, born in 1905, and followed in three-year intervals by another son, John junior, and a daughter, Charlotte. Hugh, the baby of the family, was barely three years old now.

John had served several terms in the state assembly and was now running for the position of attorney general of Indiana, with heavy financing from old friends and acquaintances of he and his brother, Charles, including the industrialists James Shaffer and George Vaughn. His campaign was winding down now toward an April election, and this was why Ada had managed to slip away for an assignation with Shaffer and Vaughn in Chicago. John was on a campaign stump in the southern region of the state.

John wasn't the only successful politician in the family. Ada herself was entering her four year as the elected town clerk of records of Warsaw. She had proven to have a fine sense of business and management as well as an independent streak and a determination to be a person in her own right, not just an appendage of a successful husband.

Ada returned to Warsaw a few days before the election and a day before John arrived home. They both had their pictures taken at the polls to appear on the front of the Warsaw newspaper the day after the election to help celebrate John's victory. The election was on a Tuesday. They celebrated his victory on Wednesday. On the following Friday, a gloomy and rainy day, John was dead. The Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918 and 1919 killed more than half a million in the United States alone, and over fifty million in Europe, quickly and with almost no forewarning. The disease had spread from Europe to the United States on the transport ships brining America's doughboys back from the First World War. John's weak lungs had been his undoing. He was dead within a day of having gone down with a sore throat, headaches, and a fever, which even the doctors had initially attributed to his frenetic campaigning and sudden release from this activity.

As John was gurgling his last, dying despite Ada's valiant attempts to use every Native American defense she knew of against what was essentially was a European disease, John Junior, Charlotte, and baby Hugh were sent to their beds with sore throats, headaches, and fevers. Luckily, Dan had been at the lake where John had arranged work for him with a wealthy family from the north in what seemed to be a successful attempt to stem the boy's rebellious and resentful nature. And for some reason no one then living at the lake came down with the mysterious disease.

On Sunday, as the funeral cortege rolled away from the family home in a downpour that had continued from the previous Thursday and that had the roads awash, the doctors said that there was little they could do for the children and that they probably would all be dead before Ada returned from her husband's burial. Ada herself was too exhausted and grief-stricken to do as she wanted at the moment—to remain with and administer to those still clinging precariously to life rather than follow the dead, even though it was her husband. But they were public people and those controlling the funeral just bundled her into a funeral wagon and carried her off to the graveyard.

When Ada returned, baby Hugh still lived, and Ada adamantly refused even to leave the funeral carriage. She ordered the house servants to bundle Hugh up and get in the carriage, and they just flew out to the lake house as fast as the carriage could carry them, where Ada sat, nursing her baby until he pulled through the crisis. The overwhelming chore of caring through every moment for her youngest son was the only thing that helped her survive the loss of her middle son and only daughter.

It was a good thing she had left Warsaw, because the rains had stopped and a lantern had been turned over in the town hall, and a quarter of the town of Warsaw burnt to the ground that night—including the town hall, the family's insurance agency, and the Ravens' town house. Within a week, Ada's blessed, idyllic life had turned to dust. Her husband and two of her children were dead. Her house and the family business were burnt to the ground—and whatever she could recover from the business would have to go to paying off the insurance of the other buildings that had burned, because, of course, everyone in Warsaw had insured with John's company. And even Ada's own job had evaporated. What town needed a clerk of records when the town hall, which houses all of the town's records, had burnt to a crisp?

The first one who appeared at Ada's door at the lake house to console her was the town's mayor, the highly odious Henry Denbo. He was quick to offer her the position of his mistress and to pay her a monthly stipend for her sexual favors. He was so full of himself that he actually believed this was the ultimate answer to all of Ada's problems and that she only had not hopped into his bed all of the times he had propositioned her because she had a husband who was so highly successful. Well, now her husband was dead and she was broke. Ada bounced him out of the house on his tail, but he didn't leave before telling her she no longer had a job because the town no longer had a need for a clerk of records—but that he might be able to find a paying job of some sort for her if and when she reconsidered his offer of help.

Ada was like a zombie for a week, staying alive herself only to nurse her baby past the crisis. By the end of that week, however, her Aunt Martha had arrived from Slater, Missouri, and had organized the house and started to bring some semblance of order back to Ada's life. All but two of the house servants were no longer there. They would have stayed on with Ada's family, even knowing the family's income had evaporated, but all but two of them had contracted the flu themselves and been taken away from the lake house. And two of them, the less robust ones, were also now gone.

Ada had been so focused on trying to keep young Hugh alive that, beyond being assured that her eldest son was still well and with the other family across the lake, she had not given much thought to Dan. But on Tuesday of the second week Dan appeared at the lake house—in the company of George Vaughn.

Momentarily, Ada wondered if she also had now contracted the flu. The two worlds she had so earnestly kept separate were now standing in front of her, and the strong resemblance between George Vaughn and her eldest son were unmistakable. Her shame had found her on the steps of her lakeside home. Her life in Indiana could never again be what it once was—happy and secure.