Chapter 4: An Audience of One

"From now on your wife's name is Bobbie. You are me for as long as it takes to get her pregnant. Afterward you may relocate to any place you so desire. Of course, we must be able to find you wherever you are until after the baby is safely born. Then your name shall once again be Charles Harwood." He took a deep breath and rested a moment. He continued, "After Daniel or Danielle, as the case may be, is born and healthy, you Charles will be a comfortably wealthy man by any standards."

I had been carefully listening to him speak. Letting my tongue roll a little loosely I answered, "I ... hope ... Bobbie can help me ... emulate your speech patterns. Uh, yes."

"Not bad at all, wouldn't you say, my dear?" Wide-eyed, Bobbie stared at me in total unbelief. "I would say you hit the jackpot, my dear, yes really and truly, the jackpot. He is perfect, or will be with adequate coaching."

"You never say 'fuck, ' do you?" I asked.

"Why of course not," he answered indignantly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I do and it would be uncharacteristic of you to say such words. As I learn to speak like you, I must learn also to not speak like me."

"Absolutely, absolutely." He smiled again. He was not a grinner, but more a tight-lipped smiler. I tried to imitate his smile. "Absolutely, absolutely," I parroted. Bobbie stared at me again. She looked a little frightened as if she was watching a séance that suddenly became real.

We had a small nightcap and spoke about the upcoming sleeping arrangements. He stated, "Of course while Bobbie and you share the master bedroom, I shall watch from doorway." Once again he had that hungry, glittery-eyed sick look on his face. It was very obvious this guy had some serious problems that had nothing to do with his physical illness. I had heard of people with a kink like this in them but he was the first one I ever met in person.

Abruptly he rolled out of the room to leave Bobbie and me alone. She looked unhappily over at me and back to her lap. "Do you love him?" I asked gently. In spite of her part in the whole charade I began to feel a slight pity for her. I had a hunch she was as much a victim as she was the aggressor in this whole convoluted mess.

She nodded yes and answered, "I did." She caught herself and said, "I do. Well, I care for him. This has been a difficult four years and it is becoming more difficult all the time. I fear his mind has been affected by his illness."

We made more small talk for nearly an hour. I used the time to learn a little more about Daniel Hundley, the person. I also learned more about their relationship. Their marriage was an act of rebellion against their wealthy, domineering parents. Plans had already been made concerning their futures by the two fathers that did not have them married to each other written into the script.

She inherited stocks in several large corporations, including a large block of Hundley shares from her grandparents. Those were stocks her parents could not touch. One of her possessions was a factory in Iowa that produced beautiful furniture. The factory made modest profits in the best of years, yet she refused to shut it down because of concern for the people who would lose their jobs. Slowly I began to like the person she kept hidden from the world behind a brittle veneer of arrogance.

Abruptly my thoughts were interrupted. "Come on, come on, let's go to bed!" Daniel's hard, demanding, angry voice came through the open door. There was something insanely brittle and almost desperate in his words.

I stood and held out my hand to help her to her feet. She took it and gracefully rose. No matter what my other feelings for her were at the time, I recognized something in her that could only be described as quality. She had it. She preceded me out the door and down the hall to the staircase that led up toward the second floor and into the master bedroom. The room was twice as large as the one I tried on the suit in. I dropped the pants I was wearing and slipped out of the transparent briefs. The shirt came off and dropped onto the pile. She stood stiffly, her back to me.

Naked, I walked up behind her and placed my arms around her. "Turn around," I whispered as I nuzzled her ear. Some women have erotic ears and some do not. She did, but was unwilling to readily respond to the stimulus. I could feel her fight to remain separated from what was happening.

Woodenly, she turned around. "Now what?" she asked in a whisper. I slipped her jacket off her and unbuttoned her blouse. Her skirt zipped down the side. Slowly I removed her outer garments, then her bra. Her breasts were firm and just as I first imagined them, a comfortable bite sized B.

She was bare legged. "Step out of your shoes." She did and I slipped her panties down. Submissively she stepped out of them and quickly drew her legs tightly together. Her hands protectively crossed over her breasts. "Sit on the side of the bed." Like a marionette, she lowered herself slowly onto the bed.

I slipped by her and lay on my back. In spite of total bizarreness of the situation, I became aroused. I drew her down beside me and placed her hand on my semi erect cock. "It's too big!" she exclaimed and struggled to get up.

I gently rubbed her pussy. "If a baby can come out of it, my cock can go into it. We just need to start slowly and work up to it. You get on top." I knew a lot, if not most, of her problems stemmed from the knowledge Daniel was hungrily watching.

"It's too big," she said again, in helpless fear.

Harshly I told her, "Relax, damn it, that little thing of yours will stretch a yard before it will tear an inch. Roll flat on your back and spread your legs." She flinched at my crude speech. I slipped down in the bed and began to kiss her belly. I licked her navel and lower. I spread the lips of her neatly trimmed pussy and slowly stuck my tongue inside. I licked upward until I caught her clit with my lips and began to worry it

"

Oh," she uttered after a while. "Ah," and with that she began to respond a little. Finally I had her well lubricated with my tongue and her natural lubricity. I slid up until I felt my cock touch her pussy lips. I reached down and worked the head in just a little. She stiffened. I didn't try to go in any further quite yet. I kissed her breasts. Her nipples were two small, pink rosettes that responded quickly to my licks and nibbles on them. I slipped my cock in an inch and stopped before she had a chance to stiffen up.

Gently I worked my way into her, an inch at a time until I was nearly half way in. At that point I stopped and slowly withdrew. Then, just as I almost started to slip out I began the short journey back inside her. I loved the tightness, but feared to hurry lest I cause her pain. Ever try to put your fist into a Coke bottle? Each downward stroke I shoved in a little further, going just a wee bit deeper. After an hour of petting and kissing and licking I exploded inside her. Four great gushing surges and I was empty. My whole body felt satisfied. It was the best orgasm I had in a year, which isn't saying much considering my past year. I slipped out of her and rolled over on my side, facing her. "Oh yes!" I breathed heavily. "Oh yes." I drew her close to me and went to sleep.

Morning came and I awoke alone in bed. Bobbie had left me some time during the night for her own bed. From what I could gather, they had slept apart for almost all of their entire marriage. As I arose, showered and shaved, I thought about the predicament I was in. I grinned to myself and shook my head as I dried off. A smiling maid slipped in and laid out fresh underwear and a dress suit. She looked at the size of my cock and asked, "Would you like anything else, sir?" One look at her face told me what she was really offering. I shook my head and she left.

New shoes in my size waited for me, soft Italian slippers that required no breaking in. Ah, the prerogatives of wealth. I wondered what shopkeeper had been rousted out of bed to open his shop just so I could have new shoes. My wallet, money clip and pocket junk were almost anally arranged with obsessive neatness on the dresser for me to put in my fresh suit. I permitted myself another wry smile and headed down stairs.

Stiff faced, Bobbie greeted me with a short nod that left no room for a more intimate greeting. I barely could imagine the conflicts inside her. I thought of a young woman I worked with at a summer job when I was in high school. Her husband bullied her into dancing in a topless place. Then he would beat her regularly for being such a slut. After she divorced him, I became her sympathetic ear for some reason. This struck me as somewhat parallel.