Rodwell Cochran sat in his car enjoying the giddy churning in the pit of his stomach and the pleasant anxiety of anticipation. He was waiting for Mrs. Sutton - Toni Sutton.
"High noon, Mrs. Sutton," he had told her. "We meet at high noon. I'll be parked near the south entrance of the Edgewood Mall. And don't be late, 'cause . . .well, you don't want to be late."
The thought of Mrs. Sutton parking her Jaguar in the north lot and walking through Carrington's Carriage Trade to meet him brought on an additional excitement. He looked at his watch. Almost Miller time, Mrs. Sutton, he smiled to himself. He thought about the picture in his glove compartment. He had gazed at it dozens of times. It was a photo of Mrs. Sutton having sex with his friend Timmy Griffin.
Rod once again poured over the day he had taken the Suttons up on their offer to use their pool. The Suttons and the Cochrans were social friends, both families belonging to the Chesterfield Country Club. Charles Sutton was an executive with Essential Insurance and Stacey Cochran was a partner in Cochran, Coleridge and Callahan, which represented Essential.
Rod had cut through several spacious yards to reach the rear of the imposing Sutton home. As he approached the back of the bath house, he heard the muffled sounds of heavy breathing. He dropped his bathing gear, went to his knees and crawled under the side window. He slowly raised his head and then sucked in his breath at what he saw. Timmy Griffin was taking Mrs. Sutton from the rear, thrusting his skinny body against her as if he had no control. Mrs. Sutton's head was thrown back in ecstasy, her eyes unnaturally bright, her mouth stretched in a grimace of pleasure.
"Oh, yes, Timmy," she breathed. "Just like that. Do me just like that!"
Rod must have willed the cell phone out of his pocket. It was suddenly in his clammy, shaking hands. Without thinking, he took a picture and then ducked below the window. He heard Timmy cry out, almost hysterically. "I can't hold it, Mrs. Sutton. I gotta come!"
Rod got up on his knees again just at the moment Mrs. Sutton slid away from Timmy. He saw her grab Timmy's cock and squeeze it slightly to stop his ejaculation. Rod took another picture and stayed at the window. They were so engrossed in each other that he knew he would not be discovered.
Timmy was whining now. "Please let me come, Mrs. Sutton. I gotta come now."
She released him and sank to her knees just when Timmy cried,"Oh, shit!" Timmy's thick, sticky juices suddenly appeared all over Mrs. Sutton: on her face, in her hair, on her lips and chin. Rod took a last picture. The image of Mrs. Sutton on her knees before Timmy covered in his cum seemed to sear itself behind his eyes. He pushed himself away from the side of the bath house thinking that he couldn't watch anymore of that nerd enjoying himself with the woman he himself loved and wanted.
He staggered rather than ran from there. His head seemed to be engulfed in invisible flames and he hardly had control of his breathing. Suddenly he was in his own house and he heard his mother say,"You're home early, Rodwell. And you're so out of breath. Have you been running?"
She was in the kitchen. She always seemed to be in the kitchen. Rod smelled a vague sweetness as he forced himself back to coherency.
"Yeah, Mom, I needed the exercise. No one was home at the Suttons and I felt kinda funny using their pool with nobody around."
"That was very thoughtful of you, Rodwell. I'm baking your favorite cookies. They should be ready in about fifteen minutes. I'll call you."
He was half-way up the steps to his room when he said over his shoulder, "Sounds good, Mom. I'll be right down." Rod closed the door and fell head first onto his bed. He threw himself on his back and clasped his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for some minutes. "I gotta think this whole thing out," he said aloud.
Mrs. Sutton and Timmy Griffin. The thought of them together in the bath house stabbed him in the stomach. He thought of pulling out his cell phone and check the images of the pictures he had just taken. But he couldn't, not yet. He was hurt and, yes, angry that Mrs. Sutton had chosen Timmy as her lover. Hell, he was the same age as Timmy, twenty-one, and he was certainly better looking. She must have made a play for him. Maybe he had something that older women liked. But so what, he thought, Mrs. Sutton had plenty of opportunities to make a play for me. He thought over all the get-togethers at the Suttons and the Cochrans, the parties at the club, the many times she was in the bakery where he worked. He had cut her grass a few times last summer while she was out at the pool in a bikini. Why not me? he thought.
Rod's thoughts turned darker. I'm going to make something happen between Mrs. Sutton and me, he reflected; if she can fuck Timmy, she can fuck me; and I've got those photos. Hell, Timmy can't even get a date at college. It shouldn't be too difficult to cut in on wimpy Timmy Griffin. He had it worked out by the time his mother called from downstairs. Yeah, he thought as he headed for the kitchen, the cookies are definitely ready.
Rod shook himself out of his revery and started to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. Where in the hell was she? Was she going to stand him up and dare him to use those pictures against her? She had sounded outraged over the phone and had given no indication that she intended to give in to his demands. Yeah, I'm some kind of blackmailer, all right, he thought with a twinge of guilt.
And then, suddenly, there she was, coming through a set of big double glass doors. She was dressed as he had specified: a conservative light pink suit with a white blouse and sling-back opened toed three inch high heels. She looked over the lot, spotted his car and walked toward it.
Rod couldn't take his eyes off Mrs. Sutton. He had always liked the way she walked, especially in high heels. She had on dark glasses and wore her blonder- than- blond hair down her shoulders. Her hair was thick and swayed seductively, he thought, as she approached the car. And, he noted, there was something in her walk, something that displayed just a hint of defiance. Oh, well, he thought, you didn't expect this was going to be easy, did you? He soon heard the click of her heels and he felt his heart begin to beat in tempo with her stride.
Rod took a deep breath thinking: Here we go; it's really happening! Mrs. Sutton practically ripped the door open and threw herself into the car. Below the dark glasses, her features were tense with anger. "I hope you're happy, you bastard, ruining my life. You ought to be ashamed of yourself." Rod wanted to laugh. Mrs. Sutton sounded just like his mother.
"I'll be ashamed later. Right now I want to enjoy the day with you, Mrs. Sutton. So good afternoon, Mrs. Sutton."
"Let's get the hell out of here before somebody spots me with you."
Rod pulled away and went west toward the highway. He didn't speed. Take your time, he told himself, no hurry. Mrs. Sutton sat ramrod straight, clutching a small purse, which, Rod noted, was the same shade of pink as her suit. Her breathing was even and rapid. She looked straight ahead and did not speak for several miles. Her breathing gradually slowed. Then, without turning toward him, she said,"Why are you doing this to me?"
Rod allowed about ten seconds to go by. "Well, this is going to sound corny as hell, but I love you.
I've loved you for years. You might not think it's real love, just some kind of infatuation. But there it is. I love you. I thought I'd never have the courage to tell you until today."
"That's absurd. And even if you think you love me, that doesn't give you the right to do what you're doing to me. There are other ways to get my attention."
"How did Timmy Griffin get your attention?"
Mrs. Sutton quickly turned and faced him. "Let's leave Timmy out of this. He's a good, decent kid.
Not like you."
"All right, Mrs. Sutton. Until I saw you with Timmy, I didn't think I had a snowball's chance in hell of having an affair with you. So I decided to give you a little inducement."
"Inducement, hell! It's blackmail. You're a goddamned blackmailer." Her words stung him. For a moment he thought of turning around and letting her go. He took another deep breath and then said,"Call it anything you want. But I've got the pictures and I'm going to use them exactly as I said I would over the phone. Unless, of course, you . . ."
"I'm sure you would. You're a bastard. If Charlie ever saw those pictures, he'd send me right back to where he found me. And I'm not going back there."
Rod thought it best not to ask Mrs. Sutton what she meant. He did not want the feelings he had for her spoiled by knowledge of a possible unsavory past.
