Chapter 09 – A Year Of Turmoil
Joanne:
I woke with a start, staring into the dark silence. Something was wrong. I glanced at the glowing red numbers reading 4:23AM and allowed my brain to reassemble the events and realize that I had fallen into a sound sleep waiting for Jack to arrive home. Still I sensed that something was wrong. Turning over, I swept my arm across his side of the bed.
Empty!
“Good grief, is he seeing someone behind my back?” I said to myself, a twinge of panic clutching me.
The irony of that thought after my own weekend of sex with Danny flooded through my mind. It didn’t push it out of my mind, just mingled there.
“Maybe he’s just out late.” I murmured. I closed my eyes, still troubled.
“Too early to get up.”
But sleep would not come. By 6 AM I had all I could take of lying awake with my thoughts and got out of bed and ducked under a steaming shower. The steam couldn’t remove the wrinkled forehead of worry, though.
“Where could he be? Not an accident, I hope.”
I stood thinking, soaping tender nipples and wondering. I slipped the soapy bath mitt between my legs and cautiously explored and soothed the tenderness there as well. I closed my eyes and gently soaped my pummeled pussy lips. I couldn’t help letting the smile return to my face. He had been so very eager, my young lover.
I felt like a new woman. I had asserted my own needs and run off with a young, virile, eager man who couldn’t keep his hands off me.
As I went down the stairs, apprehension returned, dousing the pleasure of reminiscing on the events of the past few days.
“Where on earth can Jack be?”
While the coffee drizzled and the toaster took its time with two slices of marble rye, I checked the phone for messages. None. The sun came above the horizon and began chasing the gloom from the room while I sipped the scalding hot coffee and crunched the satisfyingly crisp toast. I stared off into the morning light, and Danny’s taut, youthful body sprang back into my mind. My god! How he had loved me! His body beautifully lean. His cock firm and insatiable as it nuzzled me and then thrust inside.
I loved the excited look of wide-eyed pleasure as he had slipped in the very first time. His voice caught in his throat as he gasped, .. .. .. what had he said? I tried to remember exactly.
“Ohhh, … … my god! Ohh, … … so … hot! … “ He had said as he flattened himself against my body.
I shook my head to clear those thoughts and solve the mystery of my missing spouse. There was a scratch pad on the other side of the table, near the phone. I tried to read it by craning my neck, then reached across to draw it nearer. There was no note. Just a scribbled phone number in Jack’s masculine scrawl.
It was an out of town number, but it looked vaguely familiar. I dialed, and waited a long time until a groggy male voice answered.
“Theta House.”
I hung up without speaking. A cold curtain seemed to close around me. Theta House, Danny’s fraternity house.
Caught! Caught in my very first extramarital affair!
I realized that Jack had called Danny. Suspicious, I suppose. He had found that Danny was out of town, put two and two together, and leaped to the conclusion.
A cold lump settled in my chest. I resented his jumping to the conclusion - then realized how crazy that was. But where was he last night? Getting even already? All the strange possibilities filtered through my mind.
“Where is he now?” I heard my voice say.
I picked up the phone and then put it down just as quickly. I couldn’t call his office.
“What if he is not there either? How will I explain not knowing where the hell he is?” I thought. I sat there, willing the phone to ring; but it remained silent.
Trying to take my mind off what had become a big problem, I unpacked my bag and put all the clothes into the washer, examining each garment as I dropped it into the water. The torn panties I stuffed into my pocket to discard discreetly.
“You pick a hell of a time to be discreet!” I muttered to myself. I leaned against the warmth of the washer as the agitator strained under its load. Everything reminded me of fucking Danny, even the back and forth slapping sound of the washer. I shook my head, trying to hold back those thoughts.
It was a long day. Jack didn’t call. On top of everything else, it was a rainy, gloomy day; my mood sank lower by the hour.
I found myself talking to myself, rehearsing the difficult conversation I knew would come when Jack got home. I was getting angry with him for not calling. At the same time, I was thinking through all that happened.
After all, Jack was the one who had brought me along to this affair.
“He was right, I had been too up-tight sexually.
“I was way too repressed about sex. I realize that now. It was bad for our marriage.”
Replaying the events of the last few years, I stared gloomily out into the drizzling evening darkness.
“It was you who realized it first! You who kept suggesting those things. You how wanted me to play out your fantasies! You!” Tears rolled slowly down my cheeks as I sipped a little more wine.
My upbringing had been very restrictive about sexual matters. It was never discussed except in a “you don’t do it” manner of speaking. And then when we married, it was hard to make it all right in my mind. I even wanted to hide in the dark to undress at first. Jack was patient I guess, but eventually, it started to bug him. But that was just in the beginning. I was a shy person. It took a long time before I was self-confident enough even for nudity in marriage.
“I was shocked at what you wanted to do! But you just didn’t give up. It was one thing after another. And then the fantasies involving Danny started,” I said indignantly. The sound of my voice echoed around the empty house.
But the fantasies about Danny made me smile.
“But, you were right, Jack, you were right.” I muttered. “I don’t want to be that “mousy” little girl again. I don’t want to spend the second half of my life hiding under a bushel basket! No! You’re just going to have to get used to it. I got used to you, you know! You and your wild ideas!”
My practice for the big argument was rationalizing my behavior and making me feel vindicated. Where was he, I wondered. Why doesn’t he come home and get it over with?
“I know this can’t last. Oh, yes, I know it can’t last. Danny will move on soon. On to someone his age, someone right for him. ….. And that will be OK too. But for now, …….. for now …… I .. just .. have … to have …… him. I just hope you can .. deal with it, ,, ,,, dear Jack.”
Jack’s car lights turned into the drive. I sat waiting in the darkness, not bothering to turn on the lamp. The garage door closed.
I wiped a tear from my cheek and turned on a light. The door opened and Jack was standing in the doorway.
“How could you do it?” No hello, no nothing. Just that accusing question. My heart sank.
It went downhill from there.
“What do you mean ‘how could I do it?”
“Don’t give me that! You betrayed my trust!”
“Listen, Jack, you’re the one who started th .. .. ..!” I began.
“Don’t give me that crap. That was all for OUR pleasure! You just did this for YOUR pleasure alone! How could you?” It was as if he too, had been rehearsing his speech.
“Be reasonable, Jack. Let’s talk this through. You know it can’t last. It’s just something I had to do for me.”
We talked, mostly in loud voices, for a couple of hours. I thought at one point that he was going to hit me. I flinched and he drew back a little, falling silent.
Sullenly, he stormed up the stairs. I followed, trying to convince him that he should stay. I sat on the bed as he packed a bag.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Away from here. Away from you! I can’t take it!”
“But, Jack.. .. ..”
But he slammed the door and I stood silently biting my fingernail as I heard the car start and screech slightly as it left the driveway.
Jack:
“Six months. Yeah, it’s been about six months, now.’
“Are you getting a divorce, then?” Jolene asked, tilting her head and turning to look at me. We were sitting way back in the corner of the bar and I saw the disk jockey motion toward her.
“I dunno. Just separated right now.”
“I gotta go, I’m up next. She put her hand on my arm and spun around on the barstool. I looked down and looked longingly at the dark top of stockings in the split of her dress. She grinned at me and nudged my shoulder.
I watched as she began her hip-swiveling dance, slowly losing her clothes and hanging upside down on the vertical brass bars at each end of the stage. I watched as the front row guys got their thrills pushing dollar bills down the front of her g-string.
When she returned, she was carrying the dress and she was nude, standing next to me, steadying herself on my arm as she tugged at the sling of her pump.
“You know, I’m glad we have become friends. I like you coming in and talking,” She said. “But I have to go make some money.”
I laughed sardonically. “Yeah, I know, I know, I’m a lousy tipper!”
“Right, but you’re cute!” She whispered into my ear. I could feel the warmth of her body. “Listen, it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m not working. Want to come to my house for dinner?” Her luscious lips were crimson and inviting.
“Really? I should take you out. How about that?”
“Thought you’d never ask, sweetie! I accept.”
I watched the beautiful fluid roundness of her bottom as she walked away and then turned quickly to catch me staring at her. She grinned, and I pretended embarrassment and turned away.
After a few lap dances over the next few weeks, it was clear that I was a fan of hers. I was one of her regulars, and we had nice conversations that had become even more important than the feel of her pussy snuggling against my lap, or those firm young breasts against my face. We even slipped out for a cup of coffee on her breaks. The coffee breaks soon dominated. We each knew a lot about each other’s lives. Her father had left when she was 5. Her mother was a saint who had kept her straight. Now she was dancing to pay her way through college. It was a nice American story. I liked her very much, too. I thought she like me too.
So, now it was going to be a date. “My god,” I wondered, “what the hell do you do on a date these days?”
