Chapter 3 - Acceptance
The drive from that remote beach took an hour just to get to the local main road. Its single lane track through sand dunes and then across a marsh required a degree of concentration that I welcomed as I did not need to engage in conversation with Elaine or think about what I had witnessed under the old watch tower. As we had driven off we had passed the little shop that had been slow to serve me and I couldn't help but ponder on how happy and self confident I had been in those minutes before my whole world had collapsed around me when I had seen my Wife with another man and I had been made a cuckold.
Finally we reached the end of that track and pulled out onto the main road. Making our way out of Sussex and into Kent, Elaine started to chat as if nothing had happened; as usual she made disparaging remarks about my driving in an amusing way and I let her get on with it, only responding with the occasional grunt or 'Yes Dear', 'No Dear' and 'Of course Dear' - of course. My mind couldn't get away from the sight of her with Jackson and the other things that I had observed on that beach during that beautiful warm afternoon.
I couldn't help it, but I unable to contain myself any longer so I blurted it out just as Elaine was discoursing on the merits of the sun tan oil she had used that day. "Do you know that I saw a couple having sex this afternoon. A married woman and another man. Right there in front of her husband!"
Her voice quivered as she responded, "Wha...." But I cut her off, "On the bloody sand if you please."
Although I continued to drive I could see her face had gone white and her eyes looked like saucers as she turned slowly to face me. She bit her lip and with a tremor in her voice she asked me to elaborate. "What do you mean? Who was it?" and after a long pause and in a very quiet voice. "Where was it?"
I was beginning to enjoy this and after what Elaine had put me through that afternoon I was determined to make her squirm. "A big black bloke was f**king a pretty white girl while her husband -- I assume it was her husband -- just sat there like a Wuss and did nothing. You'd have thought the most he would do, would be to throw a blanket over them. Or even a bucket of cold sea water, not that the water would have stopped them because he had been doing her while they were in the sea."
"James, please mind your language. This isn't like you," she exclaimed while at the same time slapping me gently on my bare thigh, "how come I didn't see any of this?"
"I guess it's because you were under the tower with Jackson." I replied, pausing to manoeuvre into the fast lane of the M20 Motorway.
You could have cut the atmosphere in that car with a knife as I continued. "He was fixing your top wasn't he? Or trying to anyway." These were not the words I wanted to say but dear reader, what I was dying to scream at her was exactly what I was thinking. 'It's because he was f**king you all afternoon with his big cock under that watchtower, that's why."
"Ah yes Jackson," she answered, "he was so gentlemanly. He could have left me to it and then I would have had to walk back to our towels without a top."
"Yes that would have been a little embarrassing." I answered sardonically while at the same time wanting to scream at her, 'You didn't mind letting the whole beach see your tits when you took his top off did you -- you Slut!' Nevertheless I settled for, "But there were a few girls there with their tops off anyway, so you'd have been in good company."
"I guess so." Her face was a mask that I couldn't read and I was watching the road anyway but what she said next nearly caused me to swerve across into the fast lane, "But I suspect that you would have liked that. Wouldn't you James?"
I coughed, I spluttered and all I could say was, "Christ! I dunno!" But Elaine was right, I would have liked it; I would have pretended not to, but it would have turned me on in exactly the same way as I have been aroused so many times when I have seen other men trying to chat her up. 'Is this why I haven't caused a scene? Is this what I really want? Do I actually desire to be cuckolded and to tolerate her having a Black Lover. No! That's wrong; not a Black Lover -- she'd called him 'Master' -- she wants, or already has, a 'Black Master'. Oh My God! He has taken her over -- she belongs to him -- Elaine is Jackson's Mistress -- his Whore!'
These were the thoughts that ran through my brain as I drove us home up the M20 and A20 and then until we parked on the road at our nice town house in Blackheath, South London.
Throwing our bags down in the hallway we staggered up the stairs to our bedroom and threw all of our clothes into the linen basket. Elaine spoke first. "I'll run the shower. Are you going to follow me James? I need you to help me wash my hair. It's full of sand for some reason."
'Well that's because we were on a beach, Dummy, and because you lay on your back on the sand while a big black man fucked the sense out of you" Were such thoughts to be my future now or would this situation resolve itself? I had never had such notions about Elaine before, but then again I had always trusted her before.