When I felt his hands on my buttocks from the rear, I tensed with anticipation until I felt the tip of his penis entering me again. I suppose I had been afraid for a moment that he was going to do the other. I was in no mood for that. I wanted to be satisfied.
My orgasms began almost at once. It was such a beautiful feeling. I can't really put it into words. I know I wiggled my bottom. I did all the appropriate things and made all the right noises, and they came from my true feelings. I was delirious with pleasure and I never wanted it to stop.
And that was when it did stop, of course. Bob pulled out and remained on his knees there, asking me to turn around and lie on my back. And then, he did the unexpected, really. He entered me again in the regular position and began too make love so beautifully. He held me tight and brought me to more wonderful climaxes, controlling my body with his magnetic attraction, his hypnotic pull. I knew then what the blonde girl on the floor was experiencing that night.
The most unexpected part was what he said. He was so tender and soft in his caresses, his voice was affectionate, more so than I had ever imagined was possible. I remember his words vividly.
“I want you to listen… Denise,” he told me with measured pauses that showed me the quality and degree of control he maintained over every organism in his body, “I may never tell you this… again. I love you. I love you… in a way that no other man ever has. I love you and you are mine…”
“Oh, Bob… I love you, Bob,” I told him with all the true feeling I had. “I don't want you to leave me… ever.”
“I will have to leave you… sometimes,” he told me, our bodies in such a beautiful motion, our organs thrilling each other so wonderfully with their friction. “You will remain mine and you will remain faithful. Do you understand?”
“Yes… yes-yes-yes!” I promised, knowing I would have promised anything at that moment.
“When I come,” he began again, pausing, “I am going to say some things you may not like. You must understand…”
We came together so beautifully that I could not understand what he said. I think he was so similarly affected that what he did say was an almost incoherent babble. But the word that stuck with me, although I was not sure that I heard it, was-“Kathy!”
Chapter Three
There was so much that happened that summer, I have tried desperately to think of some way to condense it all without writing an entire book within a book. Bob, of course, took over the household completely. He used my car as if it were his own, driving me each noon to the little private summer school where I taught drama in the afternoon.
What he did during those times I never questioned.
I understood that he had business around town or that he was working on some “business deal” with a bunch of stockbrokers and lending companies that would allow him to retire in five years as a millionaire. All of his money, over a hundred thousand dollars, he claimed, was tied up either in this venture or in overseas banks where he could not draw it out.
His financial demands grew as time went on. At first, it was twenty dollars every once in a while. And then it was a hundred for “a deposit on a surprise,” and a thousand to “make a fast trip to Europe to see if I can get some of my funds released.” I had to dip mightily into my meagre savings and get a new loan on the car, as my hundred dollar a week fee for part-time time teaching was my only income during the summer.
In retrospect, I am utterly amazed that I never once objected, never questioned Bob about a single thing that he took or “borrowed” from me. I was an absolute slave, desperate for the love that he avoided giving me until I became a nervous wreck, yet willing to put up with any deprivation so that I could be assured that love was mine to have.
There were so many things that I tolerated, yet there were three basic acts or themes that troubled and distressed me the most, and all of them had to do with Kathy.
First, there was the continuing presence of Kathy in conversations when Bob and I were making love or preparing to do so. This would occur in various ways, but the one incident I remember clearly, was fairly typical of them all. On this particular evening, Kathy had paraded around in front of us in her baby-dolls more than usual, and would sit looking at TV with her legs purposefully pushed apart, the fuzz of her nymphet mound visible at the loosely fitted crotch.
On another occasion, Bob had invited some friend of his over to watch Kathy strut around and model her new bikini, and she did such a provocative job of twisting and contorting in front of them that I (and she too) had no doubt of their arousal.
But on the specific evening I remember so well, I saw Bob pretend to be half asleep while his eyes remained open just enough to observe each move and twitch of Kathy's lovely flesh as she twisted around in her seat. My eyes were trained too, trained on his trousers. I saw it rise from limpid flatness until there was the clear outline of his erect penis beneath the trousers that were tightly stretched from the position in which he was sitting. It was so clear, in fact, that the head and ridge was completely discernible.
An hour later, as we lay together on the bed, Bob began to stare at me with a peculiar expression. He kissed me hard on the mouth, tasting and nibbling at my lips, then moving back to look at me again.
“Your mouth is very much like Kathy's,” he commented with a certain huskiness that was not usually there. “And your breasts, they're still inverted… the nipples, I mean. So are hers. Here… kiss.”
Bob pushed me down to his belly and I began to lick his hairy flesh, then envelope his stout manliness with my lips. I knew what he was thinking, and yet I fought to deny it. I was not Denise. I was Kathy. I was Denise in presence, but I was Kathy in his mind.
“Have you ever had a doctor check her to be sure she's still a virgin?” he asked me later as we fingered each other and kissed.
“I don't see what good that would do,” I tried to get rid of the subject quickly. “If she's not a virgin, there's nothing a doctor can do to make her one.”
“I wouldn't worry so much about the boys, Denise. Have you ever noticed how she stays locked in her room with her girlfriend, this Mary Clauson?”
“She spends the night with her,” I said indignantly, pulling away from him. “All girls spend the night with their friends. So what?”
“I wonder what they do together?” Bob seemed to muse pleasurably, licking my nipples and using his fingers on me in both places, “I wonder if they play with each other… naked together… in bed…”
“Bob, please… oh, darling… darling,” I objected, moving my hips to the rhythm of sensuousness he elicited from me. “Can't you talk about something else when you do that… I'm… o-o-oh, I'm just about to come, darling. Please… talk about something else…”
And when I looked down at his penis, I saw that he had already had a climax. I immediately confronted him, accusing him of using me to get so worked up about Kathy he couldn't control himself.
But would you believe it? That man actually talked me out of it, made me seem like a dirty minded slut, while he denied any such thoughts himself.
“You must understand,” he explained to me with such conviction. “In my work, the mind is trained to disassociate itself from the body, from the purely physical pleasures of the flesh. I was talking and thinking about Kathy with sincere concern, while the physical closeness with you and the manipulation of our sex parts caused me to come to orgasm. There was no connection, Denise. Any connection was only in your mind, not in mine.”
When it would happen the next time, he would always have another excuse, and the end result was always that it was my fault for having these ideas. Yes, I really believed at the time that I was to blame. It never occurred to me that we could both be somehow a part of the same evil thing.