Chapter 5

The whole house echoed with the resounding crash of the fallen chinaware plate. Janet's nerves were strung tight in her throat. Every movement, every sound was torture to her. Greg had called ten minutes before to tell her that he was at the airport and would be home soon.

During the last five days that Greg had been gone, five days of psychological torture to Janet, she had broken twelve dishes, hurt herself falling down the stairs, and had left the checkbook in a shambles. She hadn't enough self control to subtract a few simple figures to keep their bank balance straight.

Except for grocery shopping and a trip to the post office to pay the monthly bills, she had not left her house. Most of that time had been spent in the bedroom, where she blankly watched television. She didn't want to see or talk to anyone. The phone hadn't jangled, so she felt safe that Martin had not attempted to call. She couldn't bear the thought of facing him or even talking with him.

She jerked her hand back as she was picking up the pieces of the smashed plate. A small trickle of bright red blood formed into a pool on her finger. She washed the blood under the cold water faucet. At least it's still red, she thought, trying to laugh at her grim humor. As she opened a drawer near the sink looking for a Band-Aid, tears began to swell in her eyes.

"But what about my mind," she said aloud to herself. "What about my miserable mind!"

She could hardly see the small cut through the cloud of tears. Oh, what have I done? How am I going to tell Greg? Her mind raced as she fastened the sticky Band-Aid to her finger. How could he have lied to me for so long? And now, now... must I lie to him? Oh, God, I just don't know what to do.

She bent down and swept the last of the broken china into a dustpan. "Honey, I'm home," her husband's voice yelled from the front door. "Where are you? I... oh, hiding in the kitchen, huh," he said, poking his dark curly head through the open door. "Break something?" he asked.

"Just a plate. Would you like a drink?" Her eyes remained on the small pile in the dustpan. She didn't dare look at him for a moment. Her reddened eyes would have given her away. She couldn't let him know that she had been crying. He would ask too many questions.

"Dinner is ready," is all she could muster. "It's only leftovers, but there's plenty for both of us. Why don't you fix yourself a drink..."

"What's this? No kiss for the conquering hero?"

"I'm sorry, Greg. I... I'm all wet and dirty. Please sit down and tell me about your trip," she said, but not really wanting to hear what had transpired in Dallas. As far as she was concerned, his whole job was a lie, their whole life was in danger of becoming a lie. If the company knew what he was doing, she thought, they would be on the street in five minutes and he would be in jail only a moment later. We're living on the brink of disaster and there is no way out, she thought, fighting back the tears.

Greg fixed them both a drink in the living room as she prepared to bring dinner to the already set table. She stood at the door with a platter of cold chicken in hand, braced herself, then swung the door open, a forced smile on her face and walked to the dining room.

"Next May," he said, choosing a drumstick from the platter. "Next May I will be in line for the regional directorship of the entire West Coast. What do you think of that?"

How could you, she thought as she forced herself to smile. "Oh, Greg, that's wonderful. Does that mean we can move somewhere else?"

He answered her question quickly then started talking about all the opportunity that was in store for them. He talked all through dinner about the raise in salary and prestige and all the benefits they would receive in the coming months.

He was still talking as he helped her clear the table and pulled a coin from his pocket once they were in the kitchen. "Heads you wash," he said, and tails I do."

Janet watched the coin flip into the air and fall tails up. Greg started filling the sink while she stood by, dishtowel in hand, marveling at the mood. He hadn't talked to her like this for months, not even when he had been promoted to his present position only a week before.

"That's the last of them," he said five minutes later. "Fastest dishwasher in the west... What's the matter, honey? You haven't said two words in the last hour."

"Nothing at all," she lied. "I was just listening to you. I haven't had a chance to say anything."

"So, I talk too much," he kidded. "Well, enough of this talking. Let's get down to some serious business," he said, pulling her close to him and kissing her hard on the mouth, completely surprising her. She let him continue, but didn't return the kiss. Besides the fact that her mind was in torment, she wasn't going to let him get off the hook so easily for not making love to her for three months.

"It's been so long," he whispered. "It's been so long, but that's my fault. I have been so tired trying to work sixteen hours a day. But from now on you shall see a big difference in the sex life around here." His apology surprised her and she wanted to believe him. But she wanted something to do with it too. After all, she had put up with his neglect for three months and she should have something to say about it.

Wordlessly he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. Her tormented mind did not want to make love, but her body needed him desperately. She held back as he started to climb the stairs.

There was questioning in his eyes. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, puzzled.

For a moment she said nothing, but only stared at him.

"My God, Janet, I apologized. I want you as much as you want me. Now let's go up to bed, darling."

"That's not enough, Greg," she said, her tone of voice strange and hard. She wanted to know why he had not made love to her during the last ninety days. She wanted him to tell her his secret. "Just an apology won't do. For three months you've been neglecting me, in bed and out. You've been short tempered and almost cruel. You haven't even taken the time to say 'I love you' more than three times. I think I deserve an explanation."

"Honey," he said. "I told you. It's been my work. I've been doing for us so that we could afford all the nice things we have."

Please, she thought desperately as he talked. Tell me the truth. Tell me about the embezzlement. Confide in me. I'm your wife.

"You don't think it's another woman, do you," he asked. "There's never been anyone but you and there never will be. I do love you, and if I had the words I'd tell you how much."

She was silent. You do have the words, she thought. You can tell me. I wouldn't even care about another woman, but I know it's not that. I'd know if anyone had come between us, but it's not another person, it's greed.

"No, I don't think it's another woman," she said. "I trust you. There is something else between us, something trying to destroy us, and you refuse to talk about it. Greg, remember, I'm your wife and I want to help you."

She watched his smile. He's not going to tell me and he'll destroy us if he doesn't. Martin will destroy us. I don't want to tell you about Martin, she thought. You are not strong enough to take it, but then, I'm not strong enough to tell you. Our marriage might not be strong enough to do either of us any good.

"Come on now," she heard him say as she allowed herself to be cradled in Greg's arms. "I love you and that's all that matters. There's nothing wrong." She responded dutifully as he kissed her again. She wanted him to badly, but her conscience still fought her desire. Her thoughts turned to Martin and what had happened five nights ago in the back seat of his sleek convertible. She remembered the pleasure of his kisses, the excitement of his organ as it slipped inside her, hurting her. She could not forget the degradation he had submitted her to, but somehow the thought still excited her. With her eyes closed, the man who held her now was Martin, not her husband.

"Let's go to bed," he said, waking her from the dream. The pressure of his voice on her ear had awakened the napping desires within her. To bed, she thought as her nipples tightened beneath her lightweight housedress. He held her tightly to his side and her legs rubbed sensuously together, exciting her more as they walked up the steps to the darkened bedroom.

Perhaps they could work it out another way, she thought. But... she felt his hand cup her breast as he stepped slightly to the side and let her go through the door before him. This was the room in which Martin had defiled her marital bed. This was the room where she had become an animal and sucked at him greedily. And now she felt her mouth involuntarily salivating and she wanted to suck Greg, but knew that she could not, not unless he tried something first. She dared not to do anything that would reveal that she had been unfaithful. She could not let him know about Martin, his best friend. What was she going to do? The hand at her breasts kneaded the firm but pliant flesh, reminding her that desire still lived within her.

"You'll never need a bra," he said to her in the darkness. "You're perfect."

Perfect, she thought bitterly, and smiled at him in the half light of the moon that filtered through the drapes. If you only knew what an animal I've become. And there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, Greg, what have I done to you? What have we done to each other?

She put her arm around his waist as they walked toward the bed. Her other hand rubbed across the bulge in his trousers as she reached to unfasten his belt. She must try to make him happy; she must try to be a good lover for him. Somehow they would make out alright.

They stood facing as they worked at each other's clothing. Hurriedly he unfastened her dress and let it fall to the floor, at the same time kicking off his pants that she had unsnapped and unzipped. His shirt came off quickly and he kneeled to slide her panties from her rounded, perfect hips.

The sweet scent of the dampness that was flooding her yearning vagina entered his nostrils. He pulled the panties downward and kissed her belly. He nibbled at her skin above the silky pubic hairs that glistened in their clean blondeness.

Kiss me lower, darling, she prayed silently to herself. Do what Martin did, please! Make me want you more than I want him!

Three months without sex had caught up with him. He had not been unfaithful to his wife, only unable to face her, shamed that he had become a thief, but with the prospect of even further advancement soon to come for him, he was safe. He would not have to steal again. The more than ninety days away from her had left him filled with desire.

His throbbing penis felt as if it were going to burst, and she had not even touched it yet in its full naked state. He was filled with a rising torrent of passion and could not hold himself back.

There was no method, no plan to his lovemaking. He was guided only by what was closest, and at that moment the soft, wet lips of her vagina were nearer to him than anything. Not thinking that she might repulse him, he lowered his head a few inches and started to nuzzle his nose between her legs into the soft, resilient hair that covered her womanhood.

Instead of being revolted as she had always been before Martin, Janet was further excited by the fact that her husband was going into hitherto forbidden territory. He was going to do it to her just like Martin had! Oh, yes, please, yes. Her heart pounded at a furious rate as she felt his nose slide through the soft pubic hair between her legs and part it gently for an infinitesimal moment.

He pushed her back softly onto the bed and she fell with her legs spread crab-like and resting most of her weight back on her shoulders as she lifted her hips to open herself to his probing mouth.

"Oooohhhhhh," she moaned. "Don't stop, darling. That's sooooo good,"

Greg was too engrossed to be surprised at her actions. He thought that his wife too had been without sex all this time and would be ready for anything. He would not be surprised that, in order to please herself, she had probably been masturbating during their abstention. The thought of her finger-fucking herself brought an involuntary twitch to his blood-filled penis that was already jerking in anticipation of what was to come.

As he nuzzled in closer, his tongue licked wetly at the smooth, pink flesh that enclosed the soft, hair-lined opening to her vagina. Then, pulling himself up so that he too was completely on the mattress, he felt her tugging desperately at his thigh, beckoning him to turn his body so that she could also indulge in sucking him.