(This story is a continuation. It isn't necessary, but you may wish to read the first chapter, "Surrender at Loon Lake". In either case, enjoy.)
No secret agency has ever devised a torture that can torment you any worse than tortures that are of our making.
I hadn't intended to put myself through such hell. If anyone had told me that this was to be the result, I never would have gotten myself into this situation to begin with. What person in their right mind would purposely set out to so thoroughly destroy the very underpinnings of their own life that it would cause this incredible heartache and despair?
No, I never even considered the consequences of my actions at the time. If the truth be told, I hadn't thought things through at all. I had simply acted on instinct. For once, in my forty-three years of life, I had thrown caution to the wind and hadn't over-thought my every action.
Some people (my sister Meg, for sure) would applaud me for acting on my impulses and daring to satisfy my needs. However, deviating from my usual safe behavior had led me to this state that I was now experiencing.
If only I could turn back the hands of the clock and undo everything!
The events that I am referring to occurred over the Labor Day weekend at the beginning of this past September. It had started out harmlessly enough. I was spending the week before returning to my job teaching fourth grade in a small town in Vermont, at a rustic home in Loon Lake. The old house had been in our family since well before I was even born.
There – in a place that had been the setting for so many idyllic memories from my youth – I had allowed myself to be seduced by a twenty-four year old tattooed contractor with whom I had not exchanged even one word during the preceding week.
I'm sorry if that sounds so tawdry. Even speaking about it nearly two months later, I am overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and shame. It was cheap and unseemly and something that I never would have dreamed that I would be involved in.
But, it was something else as well. It was also the most passionate and erotic encounter of my entire life. Not that I had a whole catalog of erotic experiences to compare it to. I had had a grand total of three lovers in my life before that day and none for the better part of the past decade.
Jerry (that was his name) must have been able to sense the loneliness and deep hunger that had lain dormant inside me. I had done such a remarkable job of burying those feelings inside me that I wasn't even aware of them myself. Once uncovered, those deep yearnings had me writhing uncontrollably beneath his young, muscular body. I had cried out more loudly, strained against him harder, and climaxed more explosively than I had in my entire life.
I don't want to give the impression that Jerry had taken advantage of me. Though, perhaps, it would be easier on my conscience to lay all of the blame on him, I know that I could have put a stop to it at any time. Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately) I had been a more than willing participant in the proceedings.
That was my undoing.
Once those feelings of loneliness and desire had been unleashed, there was no going back to my dull and conservative life. I thought that when I returned to my home and work, I would magically be transformed back into the person that I was before any of that had happened.
Where, once I had taken such refuge in the peaceful and tranquil life that I had made for myself, I now found myself crying at the oddest times. Simple gardening or taking a leisurely stroll had been activities that had always given me great pleasure. Now, my eyes had been opened and I saw other couples doing things together and enjoying each other's company. It made me acutely ware of just how isolated I had become from the outside world.
I had always liked living alone. My home was my sanctuary where I could leave all of the stresses of the world behind. I had nobody to make any demands on me. My time was for me alone. I could spend hours upon hours in my favorite activities of all – reading and writing in my journal.
All of a sudden, my home began to feel more like a trap than any sanctuary. I would pace from room to room for no apparent reason. The silence grew into a deafening roar that I thought would split my head wide open.
At least, going back to work gave me something to finally occupy my mind. It helped, but it certainly didn't cure the emptiness inside me that threatened to consume me. I threw myself deeper into my work and ever so slowly I began to gather control of my feelings once again.
I was beginning to feel like I had gotten a handle back on my life – and not a moment too soon. However, that all changed this past Tuesday. That was the day that I got a call on my cell phone as I labored to put up a new display on our classroom bulletin board after school. I had scrambled to answer the ring – thinking that it would be either my mother or perhaps my sister. That was when I heard his voice.
"Hello Sandra."
I froze in my tracks! I instantly recognized Jerry's voice on the line. Instantly, I could feel my heart rate increase.
"Hello?", I replied with an effort to pretend that I didn't know who it was on the other end of the line.
"It's Jerry, Sandra", he said, "How have you been? I've been thinking about you a lot."
I didn't know what to say! Here, this young man – nearly twenty years younger than me – had me tongue-tied like I was a blushing school girl.
"Oh! Hi", I replied, still trying to maintain my façade of not having recognized his voice. "I've been quite well, thank you. How are you?"
Incredible! I had spent every moment of the past seven weeks trying to forget that our unseemly little episode had never happened. Yet, just hearing his low, sexy voice on the phone had my body reacting to him just as it had that night so long ago. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing had become perceptively deeper, and I could feel a sweat breaking out all over my body.
"Well, I've been doing my best to stay out of trouble. You know – ", he continued as if our speaking on the phone was the most natural thing in the world to him.
Without even thinking about it, I walked over and closed the door to my classroom. Instinctively, I was seeking out some modicum of privacy – wishing to share my young man with no one else. The blinds had already been closed against the glare of the late day sun and it lent an air of intimacy to the surroundings.
"I must admit," I stammered, "that I was a bit surprised to hear your voice."
I walked over and sank myself into the leather chair behind my desk. This was a place where I was accustomed to feeling very much in control of whatever was happening in my classroom. I craved any help that I could get in trying to hold onto my bearings, while just the sound of this young man's voice was making my body and soul react in ways that I had worked so hard to overcome.
"You sound upset," he began, "did I call you at a bad time?"
There it was! He was offering me a tailor-made out. It was the middle of the day. He knew that I was a teacher and that I would most likely be at work. One small word from me and I would be free again.
"No," I responded, "I'm not busy at all. You just caught me a little unaware, that's all. What can I do for you?"
I heard him give a small chuckle over the line. I blushed deeply as I wondered if he was imagining the same scene that was running through my head at that very moment - a scene of two desperately hungry souls straining to slake the overpowering desire that raged within them. Two naked bodies writhing against each other on that old four-poster bed at my family's cabin in the woods. Fingers, lips, and tongues set loose to seek out as much pleasure as they could conceivably find as their passions grew into a flame that neither of them had ever experienced before.
"Yeah, you probably have trouble even remembering who I am, don't you?" he asked with a slight tease in his voice.
