Chapter 24

The faster Sharon's heart beat, the slower she walked. Scaling the stairs of the old building on campus seemed to take an eternity, and when she entered the large hallway, she paused to try to calm herself. A few students were milling about, but not many, given that the summer term had not started yet. Two young coeds walked by her.

"Excuse me," she said. Her voice trembled, and she admonished herself to control her nerves. "Can you point me in the direction of Dr. Phil Goodwyn's office?"

The two girls looked at each other in confusion.

"What department does he teach in?" the taller girl asked.

"Oh, um, sociology, I believe. Criminology."

The shorter girl pointed down a side hallway. "Go down that hallway, take a left at the end, and go all the way to the other end. There are some offices there. He might be in one of those."

"Thank you," Sharon said, as the girls continued through the door and down the stairs.

She took a deep breath and went in the direction the girl had indicated. She wondered why she was so nervous, but as soon as she had that question, she answered it.

She was betraying her husband.

Not completely—not yet anyway—but she was starting down that path. The minute she started speaking to Dr. Goodwyn, she would be actively questioning Ted's actions.

She actually began her betrayal long before, even before she snooped around his home office. Her counseling sessions with Bill were steps on this path to ... what? What did she hope to accomplish by digging into Ted's activities? She almost bolted as she approached the bank of offices at the end of the hall. Nausea hit her, and bile rose in her throat. She paused a moment and swallowed several times, then let her unsteady legs propel her forward.

The small placard on the wall beside one of the office doors was like a neon sign, flashing "Dr. Philip Goodwyn, Professor of Criminology" over and over at her. Unlike the first two offices she passed, the door to Dr. Goodwyn's office was gaping open. Sharon wasn't sure whether to be grateful for that. She stepped into the doorway and saw the professor at his desk, writing on something. He didn't notice her presence right away, and she couldn't bring herself to speak. She surveyed the cluttered office, noting how it matched his mussed hair and rumpled suit jacket. He was every bit the aesthetic stereotype of "college professor".

She shuffled her purse from one shoulder to the other, and the movement or sound caught the tall, thin man's attention. He looked up, and his eyes got big for a moment, before returning to normal. He smiled warmly and stood. She again fought the urge to flee.

"Mrs. Garner, what a surprise! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Sharon felt a sudden anger towards the man. "You know why I'm here," she snapped, but when his smile faded and guilt edged his eyes, she felt apologetic. He may have taken advantage of her emotions and doubts that evening at the clothes drive, but it was Ted's actions that prompted her doubts in the first place. "I'm sorry," she said, contritely. "A few weeks ago, you asked me if I really knew my husband, really knew some of the things he did. I got the impression that you were aware of some of his activities. I feel ... compelled ... to ask you about what you know."

Phil looked at her for a long moment, and she nervously shifted to her other foot while she waited.

"Let me ask you the question again, Mrs. Garner. How well do you REALLY know your husband?"

Don't cry, she scolded herself. Don't cry, damn it.

"I don't believe I know him as well as I thought I did, Dr. Goodwyn."

Phil reacted as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He came around the desk and took her by the arm, coaxing her gently into the hallway.

"Walk with me, Mrs. Garner," he said loudly, louder than Sharon thought was necessary. "I know someone who can talk with you about Ben."

Sharon looked at the professor in confusion. "Dr. Goodwyn, what—"

Phil leaned closer to her. "Your husband has a penchant for surveillance. I'm uncomfortable being seen with you in public without another excuse. We can't be too careful."

Sharon tried to digest what he was saying. "Really, Dr. Goodwyn, don't you believe you are being a bit dramatic?" she whispered back to him.

"Della Shaw is an associate professor of Social Work, and she'll be a great resource for you," Phil said loudly. Then, more quietly, he said, "Last year, Ted hired an individual to follow Allison and relay information to him regarding her whereabouts and her interactions, especially with regards to Jack and Abigail."

Sharon gasped. "I don't ... How could you know this?"

"Jack discovered it, and he and Abigail confronted the man. He confessed to everything."

"Maybe he was lying."

"And what purpose would that serve?" Phil looked around casually, and more loudly said, "Della holds regular group therapy sessions for victims of violent crimes. You may want to consider having Ben, and maybe his friends, attend."

The magnitude of the topic Phil chose as his ruse sank in. Sharon's lip trembled. Should she have gotten Ben counseling? She chastised herself again for being so consumed in her own drama that she failed to meet the needs of her son.

They reached an office down another hallway. A woman was working quietly in the tidy little room. Sharon noted the marked contrast between her office and Dr. Goodwyn's.

"Della?" Phil said.

The woman looked up and smiled. She was a pretty woman, maybe in her mid-30s. "Hello, Phil."

"I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine," he said. He pulled Sharon into the office. "Della, this is Sharon Garner. Sharon, this is Della Shaw. She leads the group I told you about."

Sharon saw Della's eyes go big. She seemed almost shocked when she heard Sharon's name. Della quickly covered her reaction up with a smile and stood to shake Sharon's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Garner. How may I be of service to you?"

"Sharon's son is Ben Garner. He was recently involved in an altercation with a violent criminal, and Sharon was interested in seeing what kind of help was available for him. I told her you were the perfect person to talk to."

Della looked a little confused, but she nodded. "Of course, of course."

"Della, I know you have obligations this afternoon, but maybe you could meet with Sharon for lunch tomorrow. Would that work?"

"Tomorrow is fine," Della said. Both professors looked at Sharon.

"Oh, um, I believe tomorrow would be fine for me, too."

Phil smiled. "Excellent. You know, you could go to that quaint little diner, the one where we held our faculty luncheon this quarter. Do you know the one I'm talking about?"

Della smiled, obviously understanding the little game that they were playing. "Of course, Phil. It was my recommendation, if you recall."

"Oh, right, how absent of me. I know it's 30 minutes away, but they have to best French onion soup."

"That's a wonderful idea, Phil," Della said. "Sharon, would that be OK with you? It's quaint, and the tables are spread far apart, so we can talk without fear of prying ears. I know the emotions that are involved in situations such as your son's can be very personal."

Sharon tried to smile, as well, but she was sure it came off as forced. "That would be fine."

"Excellent," Phil said. He took Sharon's hand and shook it gently. "I'll leave you two to settle the details. Sharon, I hope I've been of service." He nodded at his co-worker. "Della, thank you. Good day, ladies."

Then he was gone. Sharon's head was spinning. She wasn't sure what just happened, or what she was agreeing to, but she hoped and prayed it would all be worth it.

"Ugh," Seth said as he walked out of the theater. He stepped over to a trash receptacle and pretended to vomit into it. Heidi smacked him on the arm.

"Oh, stop it. It was sweet."

"It was formulaic and sappy. I mean, yeah, it was sad when Josh Hartnett died, but you could totally see it coming. It was a copout way to resolve the whole love triangle thing. I'm not sure I can continue to live with myself knowing I willingly wasted the last three hours."

Heidi stepped in front of him and slipped her arms around his neck. "Really? You think the whole three hours were wasted?" She batted her eyes at him, and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. Maybe if they hadn't made out during half the movie, he'd have a different viewpoint. Doubtful.

"You're right," he replied. "It wasn't a complete waste. Cuba Gooding was killer, as always. He almost redeemed the movie."

Heidi's jaw dropped. "Wha--?" A sexy pout filled her face and she spun on her heel and started stomping away. "Humph ... Well, if you are going to be like that."

Seth grinned and trotted after her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her tight to his side as they continued to walk towards campus. She hummed contentedly as she put her arms around his waist and cuddled into him.

They were both staying on campus during the summer. Heidi had decided to take a class as an excuse not to go home to stay with her mother, whom she had been estranged from since her father died. She'd also picked up a job working in the law library on campus, checking out and re-shelving books and helping students locate things. Seth was putting his new business skills to use this summer for his father's HVAC company in Edmonds, a city just north of Seattle.

Heidi reached up and pulled his head down a bit so she could give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Take me dancing now," she said.

"No way." He hated dancing.

"Please, Seth," she begged, and pushed her small breasts against his arm.

"No way. I just suffered through three hours of miserableness for you. I want to go back to my apartment."

"But there's nothing to do there."

"Just the way I like it, you and me, all alone." Seth's roommate had gone home for the summer.

"It's not like anything will happen," Heidi muttered under her breath.

Seth tried not to cringe. They'd been dating now for just more than a month, and they'd kissed and even groped a bit, but nothing more. Heidi always wanted to, and several times Seth was tempted, but he held himself in check. He didn't want to rush it. He wanted to do it right, show her that relationships can successfully be built without sex right away. Still, he figured he was the only celibate college guy who was dating a girl who WANTED to have sex with him.

They walked in silence for a bit.

"Can we compromise?" Heidi asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Can we put on some music and dance in your apartment?"

Seth really hated to dance, but he DID enjoy watching Heidi dance. She was a dynamo, and really knew how to work it. He sighed.

"Fine, but only a couple of songs and then I'm kicking my feet up."

She was a bit more enthusiastic as they made their way to Seth's apartment. When they arrived, Heidi kicked her shoes off and began rifling through CDs in the living room. Seth grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and went into the living room. Heidi had her back to him and was already swaying her hips to some silent beat in her head. He took a drink and watched her short skirt ride a little higher on her thighs. Some mellow song suddenly came through the speakers. She turned and swayed over to him, singing quietly as she came. He handed her a beer. She took a sip, then set it on the table next to the old sofa. She didn't particularly care for beer, so she'd sip on this one all evening. She took his drink and set it down, too, then pulled his arms around her. She hugged him tight and rested her cheek on his chest. They danced in silence for a while, and Seth reveled in the feel of her petite body in his arms. She imploringly lifted her face to his, so he kissed her. It started soft, but as they continued to sway to the music, the passion grew. His cock hardened and pressed her belly, and she wiggled against it, humming into his mouth.

The six-disc CD changer spun to a new disc, and the next song started. This one was a bit faster, with a heavy, thumping bass beat. They broke the kiss, but kept their eyes locked on each other's. Heidi seemed to be searching his eyes. Then she took a deep breath and pushed him back a few steps until the backs of his knees bumped the couch.

"Sit," she said, her voice low and sexy, "I'm going to dance for you."

Seth silently obeyed, and she handed him his beer before stepping back into the center of the room. She closed her eyes and started swaying and moving to the hypnotic thump of the speakers. Her hands were in constant motion, running up and down her body seductively as she gyrated and shimmied. Seth's cock was rock solid as he watched her move.

She was beautiful. She was so full of life and passion, almost lusty in her everyday demeanor. He was drawn to her, and he wasn't the only one. Wherever they went, they attracted attention. At first, Seth wondered if these men had been with her when she was with Mike, or if they'd at least seen her in one of her sluttier moments. After a bit, he realized it was just her. She came in the room and it was like she stole some of the air; making people take notice and either become ... infatuated ... with her, or put off by her.

She continued to dance and move her hands. When her delicate fingers traced the curve of her tiny breasts, Seth fidgeted to give his cock more room. Her nipples were hard nubs beneath her t-shirt. She only wore a bra to work or class, and so the twin points were prominently displayed beneath the tight cloth. She brushed her palms over them and shuddered. Her lips parted a bit, but she kept her eyes closed and continued to move. She turned her back to him; her legs shoulder width apart, and bent at the waist, keeping her knees straight. She grabbed her ankles and jiggled her ass at him. Seth almost groaned when he caught a hint of satiny white panties beneath the hem of her mini. He was ready to pop. Inside, he fought a battle, the same battle he'd repeatedly fought. Why did he hesitate? What was he trying to prove? They'd gotten to know each other without the sex, and he knew she enjoyed being with him as much as he did her. Here she was, again, offering herself to him. How long would she do this if he continued to reject her advances?

She slowly stood up, dragging her hands up her legs and catching the hem of her skirt. She raised it another couple of inches, and it hung in place. He would have seen the tiny white thong she wore if it wasn't hidden between the small part of her ass cheeks that were exposed. Seth's muscles were twitching as he struggled to keep in control of his own hormones.

She kept her back to him as she gyrated and danced. His breath caught when her hands slid up beneath her skirt. She fidgeted on her sides a bit and then bent over again, lowering the white panties. Seth thought his cock would explode when the thong got hung up in her crack, but soon it was free and he was treated with the pink petals of her pussy as she pushed the panties to the floor, stepped out of them, then stood up.

His resolve crumbled. He swigged his beer again before setting it down and coming to her. She moaned when his hands ran up her thighs and around her taut tummy to cup her tiny titties. She ground her ass back against his hardness and leaned her head back on his chest. His mouth captured her ear.

"I can't fucking take it anymore," he breathed. She shuddered as his hot breath washed over her. "I have to have you."

She reached around and grabbed the bulge in his pants. "Then take me, Seth, fuck me."

He slid his hands under her shirt and pushed it up, exposing her perky little cones to the open air. He gazed over her shoulder and marveled at the puffy, pink areolas capping the small mounds and the small pointed nips that stood prominently at the center. She seemed almost juvenile in her development, but there was nothing juvenile about the wanton look in her eyes as he squeezed the rubbery tips. He tugged and pulled on them.

"Harder," she breathed.

He squeezed and pulled harder, making her moan.

"Harder, Seth."

He was afraid he'd hurt her, but he complied, really pinching them and pulling them until they were stretched tightly. He let them slip from his fingers, and they bounced back against her chest. She spun around and dropped to her knees in front of him, frantically working his pants. He helped and they soon had his pants at his knees. When his cock sprang into view, she fisted it and turned her eyes up to his

"I've wanted to suck your cock for so long," she husked, and tongued the knob, making them both moan. His knees trembled, and he felt the tension already building in his balls. Seth wasn't a novice, he'd been sexually active since high school, but he'd been without for a while. He tried to think of anything to keep from shooting early, but her mouth on his cock was too intense to ignore.

She slurped on him for a minute before pulling back. "Put your hands on my head and hold it in place. Fuck my mouth."

He dropped his hands just as she took him inside again. She took a deep breath and pushed forward until his knob bumped her throat, making her gag. He started to move his hands away, but she grabbed them and pressed them hard to the back of her head. His heart was pounding as he watched with wide eyes. She opened her mouth and surged forward.

"Oh, Christ," he groaned, when the pressure on the tip of his knob changed and her lips wrapped around the base of his cock. He held her head tight against him as she moaned; sending delicious vibrations through is whole prick. The tension in his balls was too much, and he warned her with a whimper.

"I'm sorry, Heidi, I'm going to come already."

She hummed happily. His cock swelled as his balls jumped, releasing the first load up his shaft. He grunted and jerked his hips, making her gag again, then relief washed over him as his spunk filled her mouth. She shuddered and groaned as she swallowed, and he realized she was coming, too. He continued to fill her mouth and she continued to shudder and swallow. He was lost to the pleasure of the most amazing blowjob he'd ever had.

She whimpered and pushed on his legs, and he remembered she couldn't breathe. He quickly released her head and she pulled back, his wet cock slipping from her mouth. A little stream of his come and her spit followed it and blapped onto her chest.

"I'm sorry, Heidi," he said, as he helped her to her feet.

She frowned. "What for?" her voice was raspy.

"For choking you, for coming too soon, for—"

She kissed him to shut him up, and he tensed for a second, then decided to just ignore his taste.

"Don't ever apologize for anything we do with sex," she said. She kissed him hard, and then smiled at him. "I have a tight little pussy that needs to be eaten and then pounded into oblivion. Do you think you're up for the task?"

His cock, which hadn't deflated much, jerked and bumped her thigh. She giggled and spun away from him, plopping down on the edge of the couch. She leaned back and parted her legs, lifting them high in the air and holding them open by the backs of her knees. He needed no further enticement. He dropped to his knees and took only a moment to admire her snatch. It was moist and pink, the tips of her petal-like inner lips a darker red. Her clit was tiny, barely visible at the top of her slightly gaping slit. It looked delicious.

Her hands went to his head and pulled him in and he took a long swipe of her juicy slit before burying his tongue inside her. She let out a shrill cry and bucked her hips, pushing his face harder into her pussy. He concentrated on her hole and lips for a bit, until she grabbed his ears and tried to pull his mouth to her clit. He resisted and she whimpered.

"Suck my horny clit, Baby. Please suck it hard."

Her dirty mouth sent another surge of blood to his inflated cock, and another surge of adrenaline to his muscles. He covered her clit with his mouth and sucked hard. She shrieked again.

"I'm gonna come, Baby. I'm gonna come. Harder. Suck it, come on, suck it. Oh, fuck, that's it. Make me come, you're gonna make me come. Oh, GAWD, suck that fuckin' clit, Baby, Oh FUUUUCK!"

Her whole body jerked, then a fresh wave of oil coated his chin as she shuddered through another orgasm.

"That's it, don't stop, don't stop, I'm still coming," she cried, as she continued to shudder and rock against his face. She rode it a little longer, then started pulling him up while she was still tremulous. "Fuck me, Baby. Shove that big cock in my tight, sloppy hole."

Seth sat up, breathing hard. He felt almost animalistic, out of control with lust. All he wanted to do was fuck her. Her eyes were wild as she frantically tried to grab his hips. He shoved her legs back, pinning her knees against her tiny titties. Then he lined up his cock and shoved. She shrieked again as he went deep. He wasted no time, pulling out and slamming back in repeatedly. Her hands were on his shoulders, grabbing and clawing him.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she chanted. "Deeper ... harder ... harder..."

He pounded her, driving his body into hers. He was a machine for several very long minutes. His thigh and stomach muscles burned; sweat dripped down his face and landed on her folded body. Still he thrust into her. She took his pounding, begging for more.

"Fuck me, fuck me, Motherfucker. Harder ... that's it, you bastard, I'm gonna come again, you're making me COOOOME!"

She tensed and shrieked out another orgasm, and he could hold off no more. With a roar, he pistoned into her until his cock split open with another massive volley of come. More followed, and his loins spasmed until his balls drew up with an ache.

He rolled off of her and they both lay panting. After a few minutes, she rolled her head to look at him.

"You prick," she said, "I can't believe ... you made me wait all this time. We could have been ... doing this instead of watching ... stupid Ben Affleck movies. I hate Ben Affleck."

"The meeting of the Board is called to order," Glenn Duncan said, as he took a sheet of paper from a small stack and passed the rest around. "We've made a slight amendment to the agenda. Here is the revised copy."

As Bill waited for the stack to make its way to him, he looked at the empty seat at the table. That seat was where Glenn normally sat, but with John Merrill's passing, Duncan, the Vice-Chair, moved into the Chairperson role Merrill had held for the last 15 years. The other eight seats at the table were filled, a rarity at these morning monthly Board meetings. All of the men were in full-time employ elsewhere, with the obvious exception being Bill, who was on the Board by virtue of his role as pastor.

Bill wasn't surprised by the full attendance. They had fairly important items to discuss. The finalization of the budget always took place at the June meeting, for instance. But more importantly, they needed to select a new member for the Board. Once that member was in place, they would elect a new Chairperson.

Bill was never very comfortable in these meetings, and that discomfort had only increased as the tension between him and board increased. While he mourned the death of John Merrill, a man he'd known and counted as a friend for many years, he was hopeful that a change in the Board's leadership would help temper some of the board's current views.

Robert Farmer handed Bill a copy of the new agenda. Bill looked at it and furrowed his brow. The amendment was a new item of discussion, and it had been placed at the top of the agenda, as if its importance superseded anything else. It read: "Doctrinal Discrepancies and Ministerial Tactics." Bill ground his teeth in frustration.

"This new item was submitted by Ted last night, and I felt the addition was worthy," Duncan said. "I apologize for the lack of notice, but this is a topic that has been tossed about informally for some time. Ted made a convincing argument about why we need to begin discussing this formally. I'll turn the floor over to him to lead the discussion. Ted?"

Ted Garner stood up and looked solemnly at the men around the table. When his eyes landed on Bill, he hesitated, but then continued his visual circuit.

"Thank you, Glenn. Given that this is the first meeting of the Board since John's passing, I believe the time is right to move forward on a topic he felt very strongly about, a topic that I plan to champion now in his honor. As we are all aware, there have been several complaints about the doctrinal direction the church has taken, and several unfortunate incidents have arisen in the last couple of years to support those concerns. I believe—just as John did—that we need to reevaluate not only some of the doctrines we have as our guiding principles, but also the way in which we deliver these doctrines."

Bill knew exactly where this was going, and he was fed up. They were going to try to force his hand. His anger boiled over. He slapped his hand on the table and stood up. Surprise filled every face as the normally subdued man glowered at Ted.

"Shall we dispense with the rehearsed preamble, and just get to the heart of the discussion?" Bill took a deep breath. "There are some on the Board, and maybe even in our congregation, who believe that I am too liberal in my doctrinal views, who believe that my use of the love of God, and love of thy neighbor, as my guiding principles are the wrong way to go. They will go so far as to imply, or even outright blame this approach for the moral decay of our youth. It might even be said by some that my views are at least somewhat responsible for the morally reprehensible actions that some of those youth have done." He stood defiantly across the table from Ted. "Does that pretty much sum it up, Mr. Garner?"

Ted leaned forward with both hands on the table. "I had hoped to go about this in a civilized, non-accusatory fashion, Mr. Donathon, but since you insist on doing it this way, then yes, that sums it up. Against our wishes, you have continued to preach doctrine that is contrary to the principles that we have built our church upon. You have bent the values we espouse in some vain hope that you will keep our attendance numbers from dwindling. However, you have given the parishioners free license to justify sin, in all its varieties, by telling them that it is OK, that as long as they FEEL God condones it, they can do it. You have failed to tell them the consequences of their iniquitous actions. What you done instead is invite the wrath of God upon their heads, and they are so corrupted that they do not even fear it! People must be saved from themselves, or else they ... will ... be ... damned!"

Ted was pounding his fist on the table with each of those words, and now he was breathing heavy as he glared at Bill. Unshed tears were burning in Bill's eyes. It was beyond hope, redeeming this lot. They had taken true doctrine, and so distorted it, that it didn't resemble anything that Bill had EVER believed. Where was free-will in their plan? Where were personal revelation and personal relationships with God? Where was love, the crowning principle to God's existence? Where was discipline instead of punishment?

Bill suddenly felt exhausted, too tired to try to defend his views anymore. The impasse was too great, just as he feared.

Garner sat down in his chair and sighed, though his expression was smug. "It concerns me that you are unable to see what is so obvious."

Bill started gathering his papers. "It concerns ME that we appear to believe in different Gods."

"Reverend, where are you going?" Duncan asked. "We need to come to a resolution."

Bill hesitated, looking at the men around the table. Duncan appeared perplexed by the turn in the conversation, but Bill didn't see any sympathetic eyes. He shoved his papers into his briefcase. "I believe you can come to a resolution without me." He turned to leave, but paused at the door. "I'll leave the decision-making to you, and return to my ministering."

Bill stepped out of the room, leaned back against the door, and took a deep breath. Then he started down the hallway. He stopped at an open door and looked into the room. Barb was in the room that stored the church's several sewing machines, busily cleaning and organizing the odds and ends. She looked up in surprise at Bill's presence.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to be done so soon." She frowned when she saw his expression. "What happened, Honey?"

He set his jaw and blinked his tears away. "It's time, Barb. There's nothing more I can do here."

Sharon stepped into the café and took off her sunglasses. The place was indeed quaint, as Dr. Goodwyn had described, with only a dozen or so tables. Half the tables were full, and she saw Della Shaw at a table in the corner. The younger woman smiled and waved. Sharon scanned the room looking for Dr. Goodwyn, but just as she expected, he wasn't present. She actually felt relieved by that.

His words and actions the day before had her skittish. He mentioned that Ted used surveillance, and while she didn't want to believe it, she found herself looking over her shoulder as she went about her errands. She felt so uncomfortable with Ted the night before, afraid at any moment that he'd confront and accuse her. She was practically in tears by the time they went to bed. Ted, for his part, seemed oblivious to her state of mind.