Chapter 4: Embers Re-kindled

Jackie:

Driving away from the airport, I was once again feeling very guilty. Sneaking around behind my husband's back was something I had thought I would never do, let along have a groping session in an airport hallway. My good Catholic upbringing was shocked and somewhat troubled.

"What has gotten into me?" I shouted as I drove onto the expressway.

I saw the humor in my last comment, and smiled to myself. What had NOT gotten into me was what George had HIS heart set on getting into me! The feel of it against my leg lingered in my memory. My panties were completely wet, of course, so well had his finger urged me to the heights of orgasm.

"It felt so good!" I heard myself mutter as an eighteen-wheeler whizzed past me throwing up a light mist from the afternoon rain. I speeded up to stay with traffic. Thinking about that orgasm had the effect of taking my mind off my driving and my speed had drifted down to a lazy stroll.

"But it is so... wrong!" I muttered, speeding up to overtake the truck once more.

"Next time I am going to make sure it is JUST a cup of COFFEE!" I heard myself say. With resignation, I admitted to myself that I was already thinking that there would be a next time. That was the end of my self-lecture. Chad had made it home ahead of me. I thought about what I should say about what I had been doing. With me dressed in heels and hose, he would surely wonder. I would normally be in sweat pants and shirt at this time.

I practiced my little story that there had been a women's club meeting and it had lasted a bit longish. It sounded good in my mind.

Chad was buried in the newspaper when I closed the door behind me. He barely looked up, and said nothing about my dress, apparently didn't even notice.

"Hi, I got home a bit early, want to have dinner out?" He said in greeting from behind the paper.

So, my perfect cover story was not even needed. There were no questions from my husband. Not even the curiosity to ask.

"Why does he assume that I wouldn't be doing something on the side?" I asked myself. "Does he think I've lost my sexual attraction? That I'm too old to attract anyone else? Hmmmf!" But, I said nothing.

"I can be talked into someone else cooking," I said. Whenever you're ready!" I said, alluding to my already being dressed for an occasion. "The kids will be OK on their own. I'll order pizza for them."

On the way to our favorite restaurant, I continued pouring over the quandary that was pressing my mind.

"Why, I wondered, did it bother me that my husband was not showing any anxiety over the thing that I was feeling so totally guilt-ridden about?" I tried to shake the thought. After all, it was natural it would be on my mind, but he didn't know, so how could it be on his mind? But that didn't work. I was still miffed about it.

It occurred to me that the best sex Chad and I had had in the last six months was the recent play-acting my teen sexual activities. Wow, talk about irony! It had made Chad very, very excited playing the part of George.

"Well, it made both of us excited," I corrected myself. But the point was more a question of why Chad would have been so much more interested in me that night after not showing much interest in months? It was a very troubling line of thought and I couldn't get it out of my mind.

"George, " I began as the waiter served our desert. "I mean, Chad,..."

Chad looked over the rim of his cup and grinned.

"Freudian slip? That was a great night! Hmmmmmm?" he said.

"... I'm sorry, no, no, it is not a Freudian slip!" My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, though. And Chad couldn't let it lie there.

"Sure about that? I was pretty good in that role I thought! Taking George's place between your pretty legs!" He spoke in a quiet tone so the next table wouldn't hear, but gave the impression that it was just normal dinner conversation. He was even excited to be getting by with talking dirty within earshot of strangers about the subject. Chad had slipped off his shoe and his foot was tracing along my leg.

He was making me angry now, and I nearly lost the point I wanted to make.

"How do you feel about the other night, since you brought it up? I'm curious how you feel about us pretending that another man is,... well, you know,..." I stumbled off into silence.

"I thought it was great!"

This conversation was not going very well, I thought. I think men and women ARE from two different planets!

"But,... Don't you feel... concerned or anything about us thinking about that?"

"No, why should we? It's not real, just fantasy." He seemed completely settled on the answer. I parted my legs slightly, feeling his foot slip under my skirt. I looked down to see that it was all covered by the long tablecloth.

"Well, just suppose..." I decided I was in deep water and stopped for a sip of coffee. "Wow, that's hot!"

"You said it, I didn't!" he laughed heartily, saying it was another of my Freudian slips.

I decided to laugh it off and giggled along with him as his toes snuggled against my pussy, still safely sheathed in pantyhose. The long white tablecloth covered our sexual antics as his foot pressed against the spot where just two hours before, another man's hand had given me so much pleasure.

Chad took my aborted question a little too easily for comfort and I gave up and let it drop. The question still lingered in my mind, though. I guess I really wanted him to be a little jealous.

I guess if he had shown some of that concern, I might have been stronger in rejecting George's eager requests. In my heart, I knew that I was making excuses for my own weakness, though.

"But,... are you saying that I really should... ?" I persisted.

"Should what. Oh, have it on with George?" he whispered, dropping his voice from prying ears.

George looked at me levelly. He thought it over. Considering his answer. George really should not have taken that long to answer. He really shouldn't have!

"No,... No, I'm not saying that. Not really." He looked down at his plate before speaking again, and then took a fork full of Apple tart and leaned across to feed it to me. I opened my mouth and tasted the rich sweet dessert, crunchy on top, with Pistachio gelato over it.

"Well, what then? Mmmhhhm that's good, isn't it?"

His brow furrowed and he looked at me carefully.

"I guess my thought about it is that, with such an intense love,... that went awry,... it could burst into flames pretty easily, pretty understandably." He paused, his eyes glued on mine.

"Oh, Chad, that was long ago. I'm over that. Surely you know that. I love you!"

"Yes, of course, I know you do. I'm just being realistic. I'm sort of glad we moved away, though. I mean, with such an intense love that came so close to being the 'be-all and end-all'... if the right situation presented itself? I say it would be hard for those two people to resist. That's all I'm saying. You know what I mean? I mean, whoever they are! Me, you, anyone!"

"I suppose. But I'm not sure I really understand your interest, your intensity when we play-act about George and me in the back seat of that 53 Chevy! Dammit!"

"1957, he corrected1" triumphantly correcting me. Red Convertible with a 285 HP engine, zero to 60 in eleven seconds. That is if you hadn't been putting the brakes on things. Throwing cold water on poor old George!" He guffawed at his cleverness. He really shouldn't have done that either. After all, it had been pretty serious back then. I didn't like being laughed at.

He quieted down. I think he sensed that I was no longer responding. It was Chad who started it up again.

"It's like sitting by a dying fire on the beach. You sit there and it's smoking; but only a few embers are glowing! The smoke is burning your eyes and you think about moving to the other side, but you know the smoke will just follow you anyway, so you sit there. You sit there on your damned log and suffer. And then suddenly, out of nowhere, a little breeze starts up! It blows away the smoke and BINGO, there is a beautiful little flame where the glowing ember had been!"

Chad could always find a clever way of looking at things, finding something that was similar.

'I'm just realistic! I KNOW it could happen if the right set of circumstances happened."

I looked down at my plate, toying with my fork. I wasn't sure if he was saying it would be OK with him if I fucked George or not. Still more importantly, I couldn't figure out which way I wanted the answer to come down.

His toes felt nice against my pussy, though.

"Oh, Chad, that's not so!" It was a halfhearted reply.

"Do you really mean that you think you could resist? If the situation were just right? If no one would know? If no one was going to be hurt? I think even my dear sweet wife, would be tempted, don't you?"

Chad should have been a lawyer. He was relentless in things like this. I continued looking down as I frowned and shook my head negatively.

"And, it would be OK with you? I can't believe that... quite." I said.

"That's a hard question. I don't think I want to have to deal with that one." He laughed.

But he had not said 'NO', I thought to myself. And that breeze was indeed blowing across my beach right now; my ember was being kindled, even now. Was the flame going to flare up and burn us?

Our sex was pretty good again that night, for the same reason: George.

The next three weeks passed very slowly. I hated the thought that I was looking forward to George visiting again with such obvious longing.

And then one day, there was a mysterious message on the answering machine. The voice said, "Good morning, Mrs. Ryan, this is John from Acme Draperies calling. I wonder if you would be available to hear our proposition at 2PM today? I'll be out of the office and will call back later this morning." It was clearly George's voice.

My pulse was racing just knowing that he was here in town. That he was nearby. And he had the nerve to call me and leave a message! I hated myself for smiling at his nerve. What if Chad had picked up the message? Then my mind returned to our conversation at dinner and decided he probably would not have been bothered at all!

"He doesn't care what I do, anyway!" I reflected on the fact that we had not had sex for three weeks. There were a variety of reasons, but the fact was it had been three weeks.

With my heart in my throat, I dialed George's cell phone. There was no answer, and I debated the wisdom of leaving a message. At the beep, though, my courage recovered.

George:

I felt a little remorseful after leaving the bogus message on her voice mail. I wished for a time that I could take it back. But, it worked. There was a voice mail on my cell phone when I checked it at the end of a long day of meetings.

"Oh, have I misdialed? I was trying to reach John at Acme Draperies. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to meet today. Mr. Ryan is out of town and I don't have a sitter."

With a triumphant grin, I clicked off the phone. It was now after seven at night. I dialed Jackie's number, hoping that she would answer, herself.

"Hello?" she said after two rings.

"It's me. Nice to hear your voice." I said.

Oh, Hi. How are you? Good to hear from you, too," Jackie said. I felt my body relax slightly and a smile appear in the mirror before me.

"I'm hoping to see you?" I began.

"Oh,... well, I couldn't possibly make it today, Chad is away and I don't have a sitter."

"But I go back tomorrow! Can't I see you one more time before I go? It was so great seeing you last month."

Jackie continued to maintain that it was impossible. We talked about other things for a while. I was beginning to give up any hope for this trip.

There was a pause.

"Well,... I guess you could come here..." she said, very softly. "Providing you are careful. " She seemed to be using as short sentences as possible, not trusting herself with longer ones... It made her voice sound tense, excited. "I guess -- an old home-town friend can visit?" she said in very measured tones. She sounded unconvinced, but she had opened the door for me.

"Yeh, that would be great," I said. "I'll be very careful." I won't even leave foot prints in the snow!" I was getting cocky now and I cautioned myself.

"It's July!" she retaliated lightly.

She explained how to get there.

The taxi pulled up at the end of the road at 9:30PM. It was a strange feeling walking down to the house and even stranger as I walked up the drive. I suddenly became concerned that Chad's trip might have been cancelled. What if he answered the door? I was prepared to tough it out as being an out of town friend who happened to be in town on short notice, etc, etc.

Jackie answered the door wearing a bathrobe and quickly ushered me in. She looked lovely despite the lack of make-up.

[You have a nice house Chad. Very comfortable. ]

"I'm not long got out the bath. I was just getting myself dressed. Come int." she said.

As I entered I saw a glass of wine on the coffee table and next to it stood a half empty bottle of white wine. "Dutch courage," I wondered?

"I'll just go and get dressed.," she said, turning to leave the room.

Catching her hand, I stopped her and pulled her to me.

"You look lovely as you are," I said, and kissed her. I could taste the wine as my tongue slipped into her mouth. She returned the kiss with some relish, Chad, maybe even hunger. My arms wrapped around her, feeling the softness of her breasts against my chest. I became aware of the music playing in the background. It was familiar but I couldn't tell you the composer. All I know is it was very calming.

"Let me go and tidy up a bit.," she whispered, breaking our kiss.

I let her go.

I heard her footsteps on the stairs and moved to see her turn the corner at the top. My eyes were on her generous swaying hips and her narrow waist.

"The children are on a sleep-over with friends," she said over her shoulder. "We're a bit on our own... would you feel better if we had a chaperone?" she asked, biting her lip.

I poured myself a glass of wine and stood by the fireplace, sipping it and examining the photos of Jackie and Chad. One was from a cruise in some sunny seaport, another on a camping trip early in their marriage. I recognized her earlier self. She still looked the same.

My pulse was racing. "No children, no chaperone?" I muttered." I even took a minute to examine my conscience. Well, at least a moment or two.

I took my shoes off. Slipping out into the hall, I placed them by the front door and made my way quietly up the stairs. Pausing at the top, I listened.

[I could hear sounds down the hall and made my way to your bedroom, Chad.]

Jackie was sitting in front of her dressing table looking into the mirror. Her robe had fallen so that it was draped over the round vanity chair on which she sat. She was naked except for her pink silk panties. God, I love pink on Jackie. She suddenly caught my reflection in the mirror and covered her breasts, lipstick still in hand. I walked over to her and stood behind her. I kissed her earlobe and slipped down her neck, kissing and sniffing the lovely scent of her bath.

"Hey, can't a girl get ready without an audience?" Her eyes looked into mine, her arm still poised over her breasts.

"Would you hand me my bra? It's there on the bed."

I looked into her eyes and slowly shook my head. She looked into my eyes, and then, slowly, Jackie lowered her hands to her lap. I played with the soft flesh of her earlobe between my teeth. Her head curled to one side and I had a perfect view of her breasts in the mirror.

They looked wonderfully full. Where once they had jutted out eagerly from her young body, they now had a graceful loveliness in the way they curved back to her ribs. No sag to them, just graceful, mature breasts, a little bigger than when she was 16, but perfect on her present frame. They were, in fact, mouthwateringly tempting.