Without protesting she drew another mug from the shelf and turned to face him. He sat at the breakfast nook smoking an extra long cigarette, watching her through a smoke ring he had just blown. He took his time to speak.
"Haven't you anything to say?" he asked. "You didn't think that I would evaporate, did you? It's one trick I haven't learned yet, but I'm working on it." Martin was pleased with what he said. He considered himself something of a wit, but Janet considered him something much less.
"Of course not," she said, trying to cover her emotions. "But, I thought perhaps you had changed your mind. Really Martin, if you would think about it…"
"Oh I've been thinking about it," he said. "But I've only been making plans, not destroying them." He looked behind her. "The coffee is ready."
She turned to the counter and unplugged the pot, pouring them both a cup. Don't let him put anything in it, she prayed to herself silently. His nude body was still lurking in her mind, urging her to do the things he had forced her to do before. She could not deny that he had made her feel like Greg never could, but she could not remove the guilt that inked her conscience.
"What kind of plans do you mean," she said hoping to discover what he really wanted. If she had something definite to tell Greg, then maybe they would have something to fight with. Her own curiosity was aroused, also. A man with his imagination could come up with anything. If it was only sex he was thinking of, then she would be in for something more than their first encounter and Janet wondered silently to herself if she had the strength of will to go through all that shame and humiliation again.
"Plans for all of us," he said taking a sip of the hot black drink. He didn't need to put anything into the cups. He wanted to have her again this afternoon, but he knew by her nervous fidgeting that he wouldn't need the potion this time.
"When I bring Greg home I'll tell him my plan also. By the way, you haven't told him about the other night, have you?"
"No," she lied. "How could I?"
"Good. He doesn't need to know yet." His reply puzzled her. "You won't have to tell him that I was here this afternoon either."
"Martin, I can't…"
"Of course, you can. We have the time. Take your coat off while I tell you what is going to happen."
Janet had forgotten that she still wore the light coat. She was going for a drive when he had arrived. She took it off and laid it on the chair.
"You, Greg, Darleen and I," he said, "will be taking a little trip together this weekend."
She was again surprised. "I don't think I could stand it," she said, her eyes opening in shock. "I just couldn't be together with Darleen and Greg, knowing that we had done what we did…"
"And will do again," he interrupted. "You look warm. Take off your blouse."
Janet was shocked. She looked toward the open kitchen window and back at him. He always succeeded in catching her off guard. The thought of stripping in the kitchen confused her mind and when Martin told her to close the window and draw the drapes, she obeyed almost mechanically and stood silent. He glared at her and continued to speak, while she started slowly to unbutton her blouse.
"There's nothing to worry about," he said. "The four of us will have a very cozy time in the beachhouse. Darleen has told you about our retreat, hasn't she?" The girl nodded and fumbled with the third button.
His eyes burned into her brain. His smile infuriated her. She wanted to smash those perfect teeth and end her torment, forever, but he continued to talk in his usual smooth way while she moved as though a slave following her master's commands. "The four of us will get to know one another very well before the weekend's over." For a moment she didn't understand what he meant. Then it hit her like a bolt. Greg would never stand for it! It was the first time that she realized that Martin was talking about swapping partners. She had heard of people doing much of the same thing, especially in the counties north of San Francisco. But as far as she could remember, she had never met anyone who had actually done it. Her mind recoiled in horror at what he was suggesting but her hands moved on and against her conscious will unfastened the fourth and fifth buttons of her blouse.
The kitchen air felt cool in the cleavage between her young, perfect breasts. She knew that Martin would take her again, that he was going to do it to her right in her own kitchen, in broad daylight. She and Greg had never made love during the day, except on their honeymoon, but then the drapes were drawn in a large dark hotel room. The prospect strangely excited her, but she held back, her vow not to let him touch her again flickering through her swirling brain.
He continued talking about the trip. "Darleen has plans for Greg, too." Then he paused, seeing the anguished look on her face. "You don't think it can be done, do you?" he smiled. "Well, it just may surprise you how easy it's going to be."
Janet forgot the cool air for a moment. She could not be part of a conspiracy against her husband. If he were to be unfaithful it would be her fault and she had done enough already. But Martin anticipated her.
"And don't think for one minute little girl, that you are going to tell him in advance. If you warn him, it would take the fun out of it. Neither of you can get out of this now and you know it. Greg would be in jail in one hour if I were to ever spill what I know. So just relax and let's enjoy it." His grin broadened as he saw the defeated look cross over the young wife's face as though the end of the world were coming.
Thwarted, Janet dropped her hands to her sides. What could she do? The cocky smiling man held all the trump cards and she would just have to play along. Obviously, nothing else would work.
"I told you to take off your blouse," he said. She did as he said, slowly, slightly embarrassed, but, in spite of her helplessness, strangely aroused by the thought of him looking at her naked breasts in broad daylight. He decided to change his original plan, and only tease her this afternoon. It would make her more pliable when they got together at the beach on Friday.
He stared at the round firmness of her naked breasts. The cool air had extended her nipples, causing them to become erect. Goose flesh covered her body. She mechanically dropped the blouse to the freshly washed floor. The buttons clicked on the tile. Her hands hung limply at her sides awaiting the next command. Martin watched her, amused with his game. "Shoes," he said, and she bent to remove them.
The weight of her breasts pressed toward the floor as she stood on one foot, then the other. She spent a moment longer than necessary arranging her shoes neatly on the floor. The weight of her full breasts hanging loosely pulled at the muscles in her chest, the muscles that kept her firm and young looking. She shivered inwardly at the weird sensation of stripping her clothes off in front of a man who wasn't even her husband.
Martin watched the fine white breasts as they swayed gently beneath her moving body. He had an idea how it made her feel but said nothing as she arranged her shoes. If she wanted to work herself up, he would let her.
The tile was cold to the bottom of her warm feet. She could feel her temperature rising.
"Well, what are you stalling for?" he asked, enjoying his power to command her to the utmost.
She straightened up at his words and started to walk meekly toward him.
"No," he said. "The skirt. Take off your skirt, and make it good."
Her face flushed. She was being made into a common stripper, giving him a thrill, she thought. Though the blind was drawn, the room was still bright with the harsh light that kitchens always seem to emanate. Slowly she put both hands behind her back to find the zipper. Her shoulders were back as she started hesitantly to unzip the skirt. She had to lean forward slightly to unfasten the button and her breasts swayed sensuously with the motion of her body. Her nipples were straight and erect. A red flush of sexual excitement spread involuntarily across her chest.