Once he was lodged, Rafe began to move more and more violently. Wilma felt as if her body were being ripped apart. He was too big. She was too small. He’d kill her! She was sure of it! “Oh, stop!” she begged, the anguish becoming too much for her. “Please stop!”
But Rafe was beyond even hearing her. He was pounding away at her hindquarters now like a beast gone mad. Nothing could stop him until he’d finished.
The whole thing took only a moment or two, but Wilma thought it would never end. It was like a red-hot poker ripping and tearing and beating at the most tender part of her body. And with the pain there was the knowledge of the indignity of allowing this animal to take her in this fashion—this completely selfish way.
Suddenly Rafe let out a whoop and rolled over on his back, taking Wilma with him without loosening his hold. Wilma all but fainted at the final anguish this caused her. But immediately she felt Rafe shoot his hot load deep into her bowels and then the pressure inside her subsided. He was through and Wilma clamored off him as quickly as she could.
After this, she thought to herself, hemorrhoids would be a relief!
“Whoo-ee! Now, baby, weren’t that somethin’? I don’ know as I ever come off that good afore. Truth now, Wilma. You ever knowed it better?”
You moron! she thought, filled with rage. What do you think that I or any other woman could get out of that? It’s your pleasure from my pain, you bastard! That’s what it is! And someday, Rafe, I’m going to get even for this. You just wait and see! I’ll get even!
“Never,” she said aloud. “I never had it better.”
“An’ how!”
“I’ve got to be going now,” she said. “Don’t forget about tomorrow, Rafe. Three o’clock
“I’ll be there. Hey, Wilma, you mean what you said afore ’bout maybe givin’ me a little bonus?”
“You do it right, Rafe, and we’ll see,” she promised. Over my dead body, you pig! she thought to herself. Over my dead body!
Still cursing him, Wilma got into her father’s old Ford and drove to town. She went directly to the factory gate and parked her car outside. She waited patiently across from it, knowing that sooner or later Don must leave by this gate.
Wilma looked at her watch. Five minutes to five. She’d be late getting back to her job at the Dawes house. It didn’t matter. The Henshaws would cover for her. They wouldn’t even say anything about her lateness. They wouldn’t dare.
The five minutes passed and the whistle blew, sounding the end of the working day. Workers flocked through the gate, but Wilma looked in vain among their work clothes for the business suit she guessed Don would be wearing. It wasn’t until after the crowd had dissipated, some fifteen minutes later, that she finally saw him. He started across the road to get the company car he drove. Wilma’s call made him veer off his course to the parking lot.
“Hello there,” he greeted her. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“What about?” He looked at her suspiciously.
“You know what about.” Wilma confirmed his suspicions.
“Look, Wilma, what I said that day at the pond still goes. I love Glory and I don’t want to get involved with you.”
“I know. You love her and she loves you. Right?”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re still sure she’d never cheat on you?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh, Don, how can you be so blind?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s been cheating on you every day for a week that I know of. That’s what I mean.”
“I don’t believe you.” Don’s voice was shaky.
“I can prove it.”
“How?”
“If you’ll do as I ask and meet me where I tell you tomorrow afternoon, you’ll be able to see for yourself.”
“Wilma, if this is some kind of trick to get me to --”
“It’s not a trick, Don, believe me. You wanted proof and now I’ve got it for you. The question is do you have the guts to face up to what your beloved Glory really is?”
“All right,” Don said grimly, “what do you want me to do?”
Wilma spelled it out for him, going over the directions twice to make sure there would be no slipup. “Tomorrow then,” she told him, starting up the car. He nodded and walked off toward the parking lot. His shoulders were sagging and he looked very tired. “Tomorrow,” Wilma called again as she drove past him. . . .
And “tomorrow” was here. Wilma stood on the hillock and looked down at the shapely young blonde girl lying nude in the sunlight beside the pond. The figure was completely relaxed, completely unsuspecting. Glory looked very small, very helpless from this distance.
Wilma smiled to herself grimly. The trap was set. All that remained was to trigger it.
Wilma continued up the slope to the small copse of woods fringing the top. She followed the path she found there, coming out on the other side of the grove. A dirt road ran alongside the woods here, and she easily spotted Don’s company car parked a little ways down it. He got out of the car as he saw her coming.
“I must be crazy to come out here in the middle of a working day,” he greeted her.
“You won’t be sorry.”
“You’re wrong. I will be sorry. If what you say about Glory is true*and, mind you, I still don’t believe it!—I’ll be even sorrier.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you forget her.”
“No you won’t.” Don sighed. “l hate myself for doing this. No matter what happens, I’ll go on despising myself for letting you talk me into it. If I had any sense, I’d turn right around and drive back to the factory.”
“You can’t do that! Not until you see for yourself what’s been going on. You know yourself that if you turn back 'now you’ll always be tortured with doubts about Glory.”
Her point struck home. “All right,” Don said, Let’s get on with it.”
“Follow me,” she told him, and led him back the way she had come. “Oh, wait a minute.” She stopped. “Have you got the field glasses I asked you to bring?”
“Yes.” Don tapped the side of the attache case he was carrying to indicate they were inside.
“All right then. Come on.”
When then reached the hillock overlooking the pond Wilma pointed down toward Glory. “There she is ” she said.
“I see her. So what?”
“Notice she’s naked.”
“What does that prove? She’s sunbathing, that’s all.”
“She’s waiting for her lover.”
“That’s what you say. But I still think you’re lying, Wilma.”
“Then wait and see.”
“For how long? How long do you expect me to go on with this—t.his disgusting farce?”
“Not long,” Wilma said calmly, ignoring his attitude. Just take out your field glasses so you’ll have a clear view of the show.”
While Don was doing as she said, Wilma climbed a little higher on the hill behind him. She fished a red bandana from her pocket and waved it high in the air for a brief moment. Then she replaced it and came up beside Don again. “Don’t worry, you won’t have long to wait,” she assured him. . . .
Rafe had been sitting in the crook of the tree watching the pond for about an hour. He hadn’t been bored. Watching the two naked girls, and now Glory alone, his mind had conjured up all sorts of erotic visions in which he played the major role.