Message-ID: <15325eli$9809150813@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: bitbard@newsguy.com (BitBard) Subject: {BITBARD} RP "Scandalous" (MF, Cheat, Celeste: 10,10,10) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: bitbard@newsguy.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <35fea7a2.11777658@enews.newsguy.com> -----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Hash: SHA1 Content Warning: This work of fiction contains mature subject matter and graphic sexual language including descriptions of consensual sex between a man and a woman. If you think you can't deal with this story, or if it's illegal to possess such material in your locality, please hit the delete button now. If you're a minor as defined by the laws in your locality then you MUST stop now and go no further. As a work of fiction, any similarities to any person(s) dead, alive, or fictional is merely a really weird coincidence. Subject: A small town teacher, a world renouned writer (not me, really), and a scandal in the making. Subject Matter: (MF, Cheat) Rating: (X) Not suitable for minors. May be illegal in some areas. Copyright (c) 1998 by bitbard@newsguy.com. Distribution Rights: May be distributed freely WITHOUT MODIFICATION on USENET, USENET II, not-for-profit web sites, not-for-profit ftp sites, and news archival services which offer free public access to >>ALL<< archived articles. Modification in violation of this license is defined as any change which breaks the digital PGP signature of this document. All other rights are specifically reserved by the author. All distribution rights to this story, expire at midnight December 31, 1999. Creation Date: 8/21/98 Distribution Date: 09/04/98 Credits: Mike Ink has perfected the punctuation, humbled homonyms, and generally polished this story more than you will ever know. As always my Mike has my undying gratitude for this altruistic act of charity. :-) Archive: This and all my stories are archived at http://extra.newsguy.com/files/Authors/BitBard/www or http://www.bitsmart.com/sandman. ============ "Scandalous" -- By BitBard ============ He was the talk of the small New England town, even before the moving vans, stuffed to overflowing, pulled up to the antique beachfront house. The town matrons would gather over tea and whisper in hushed scorning tones about that man; that man who wrote such scandalous books, that man who was darling in the eye of the press; that man who had eaten with royalty and presidents; but -- never-the-less -- that man who saw fit to include such lurid descriptions of couples engaged in fornication within his books. Some argued the value of art, some argued the sin of pornography; but everyone talked, though few listened. Faith listened disinterestedly as she casually sipped her tea. She had read all of Alan's books and many of the articles about him long before these women had ever heard of him. She had known his prose from his first, largely ignored, book to his latest best selling chartbuster. It had been authors with vision like his who had guided her to a career as an English teacher. Having obtained that illustrious fate, it remained authors like him that kept her from going mad from the endless superficial explorations of the same dead, and for the most part, dated, authors. "Did you see his ad in today's paper?" Tonya Elders asked, in a voice that positively dripped scandal. Instantly, the conversation quieted, and ten pairs of eyes turned to stare at the now smugly knowing woman. "No." and "Do tell!" and "Ad?" were the excited replies, creating an expectant, explosive air in the tearoom. Slowly, playing up her brief moment in the spotlight for all it was worth, Tonya reached for her purse. After a great deal of fumbling and shuffling, she extracted a small clipping. She cleared her throat, and with a dramatic voice, read: "Well known author seeks model for sitting. No prior modeling experience necessary." She concluded by reading the phone number. A stunned silence filled the room like the expectant calm before the storm. Alan Bower was the only well known author in the area; no one in the room doubted who had placed the ad. Their proper minds pondered unceasingly: why would a writer need a model, and how would the model pose? Considering the subject of his books, what woman would dare allow herself to even consider the idea? Surely no one in Chapel Hill! And then, like a cloud grown too black and swollen to contain its contents, the room exploded into conversation. Sitting quietly off to the side, Faith sipped her tea and watched the torrent of activity around her with a bemused expression. *** Faith stared at herself in the mirror thoughtfully, critically noting the minor flaws and imperfections that no-one save herself would ever note. Thoughts of "If my nose were more pert, my cheekbones higher and better defined, my complexion more even, my cheeks rosier" rolled through her mind. A week had passed since she had learned of the ad; a week of her husband coming home without a word, save, "What's for dinner"; a week of sleeping alone in bed with her husband snoring beside her; a week of rising before dawn and lecturing to children who did not want to be taught; a week of gossipy conversation with other women that more and more sounded like the same old words wrapped around the same old thoughts; a week of thinking how this week was the same as the week before it, and the week before that, and the year before that. Through it all, there was that soft-spoken, cryptic invitation beckoning her. So she stared at herself again in the mirror. Men would not throw themselves at her feet, but she was still pretty, and still young. Her figure was round where it should be round and soft where it should be soft. If men would not throw themselves at her feet, at least they would not decline her attentions. Most of them anyway. Apparently with some men, familiarity bred if not contempt, then at least disinterest. She was surprised to see her hand tremble as she reached for the phone, and promptly scolded herself for taking this far too seriously. By now Alan had probably found his model, and even if he were still looking, he probably wouldn't choose her. This was merely the chance to talk to someone that she had admired for a very long time, and if by some miracle he did want her to sit for him, then maybe it was also a chance to get to know the man behind the words. Again she reached for the phone; this time her hand was steady, at least enough to dial the number. On the fourth ring she almost hung up, but let it continue in the hopes that she would not have to work herself up to this again. After the fifth ring she heard, "Hello?" "Uh. Hi. Yes, I was calling about your modeling job?" Faith said hurriedly, stumbling over the words. "Well, well!" the man laughed. "I was beginning to think I'd have to import a model from more civilized location. Do you have some free time this afternoon?" "Y-Yes." Faith stuttered. "Do you have a pen to jot down the address?" he asked. "I know where you live." Again he laughed. "I forget how different living in a small town can be. Shall we say four?" "Yes." Faith said. "Wonderful. Wear something casual." There was a click at the other end of the line indicating he had hung up, but Faith just stood there, staring at the wall and listening to the electric silence as her mind went numb, and the reality of what she had done dawned on her. *** The door opened to reveal a man who was taller than she expected, but other than that he looked exactly the same as he did on the jacket of his latest book. He was not handsome, not in the current sense anyway, but his face had character, and there was an air of supreme confidence and authority about him. There was the smell of pipe about him, mixed with the sent of Old Spice, that she found pleasant and appealing. His steel blue eyes considered her for a moment, and inwardly she cringed at that examination. Slowly, ever so slowly, his stern, dour expression changed to a warm welcoming smile. It was not an instant transformation of one being polite for the sake of being polite, but a slow gradual change that imparted a genuine warmth. "I think you will do very nicely, Ms..." "Roberts. Mrs. Roberts." His smile faded just a touch at that, though it still lingered. "Please, come in. I have a place reserved for us in the garden. The landscapers haven't finished with it yet, but it's peaceful enough for this interview." He led her through the house, which was still cluttered with the boxes and disorganized chaos of a large move that hasn't quite been finished yet. "Why would an author need a model?" Faith asked as they walked, asking the question that had nagged her from that first day when Tonya had read the ad to them. Instead of an answer, Alan asked, "What do you do for a living?" "I teach English at the high school." "And are you only a teacher, or do you do other things as well?" Faith paused a moment. In truth she did precious few things besides teach, but to say that would be to admit a horrible failing. She dabbled at pottery and poetry, but produced nothing she felt comfortable sharing with others. "I do other things." Faith replied hesitantly. "As do I." Alan said as he led her into the garden. He motioned for her to take a seat which she did. He walked over to another chair, and after sitting to face her, picked up a sketchpad and a pencil. "I find this useful," Alan said as he drew a long, curved line. "It relaxes me. I enjoy drawing, though I'm not good enough to sell what I draw. This also grounds me; puts me in touch with real people with real needs and desires. If I decide to use you as a model, and you decide to sit for me, then I'd like you to talk as I draw you. When I sit down to write again, I will use much of you in what I write." "Talk? About what?" "About anything at all. What your day was like. What you enjoyed, what you didn't. What you want, what you don't want." "And you'll draw me like this?" Alan nodded. "However you wish. Did you think you would be posing nude?" Faith blushed furiously. "I don't know what I thought. I've never done this before." "Why don't you start by telling me why a married English teacher would present herself at the door of a complete stranger, totally unaware of what she would be asked to do." After a great deal of hesitation, she told him. She told him how much she had enjoyed reading his books, and how boring and routine her life had become. She revealed how coming here was a chance to capture, however briefly, the excitement she found in her reading. He listened as he drew, and as she talked, the corner of his mouth curled up into a soft, satisfied, lopsided smile. *** A week passed and then another after that. The daily tea parties and bridge games were gratefully forgotten as she slipped off to Alan's house and sat for him. With each passing day, she became bolder and freer with what she told him, until finally she was telling him things she would barely tell herself. He never interrupted or commented on the things she said, answering only when prompted as she assured herself he really was listening. She couldn't say when the sittings became the highpoint of her day, but they had. In the hour after school let out, when she stood before the mirror pondering what she would wear that day, she was as a child on the eve before Christmas, anticipating what rewards would soon follow. At night, as she lay in bed trying to tune out the tortured snores of her husband, she would sometimes blush at the things she had confessed earlier that day. Sometimes she would wonder if she had finally said too much. Yet at the end of each session, he would see her to the door, smile warmly at her, thank her graciously, and then gallantly kiss her hand. No one had ever done that before. It sounded silly and something only a quirky, eccentric artist would do, but it made her feel like he genuinely cared for her. Faith stared at her sleeping husband as the pale moonlight cast his face in a pallid, deathly hue, and realized that Alan knew her better than Chris ever would. Alan made her feel more like a woman, more like a person than Chris ever could. And it was there, alone in bed with her husband, that she realized she had fallen in love with someone else. Or maybe she had fallen out of love and Alan was simply around. When she thought of it, she realized she really didn't know him very well at all. He rarely spoke and then almost never about himself. That may have been what she loved most about him. He was a tall, dark, mysterious stranger who listened to her and treated her like a lady. That night she dreamed of him. Night after night, she continued to dream of him. The dresses she wore to her sittings were the most suggestive in her wardrobe. The care she took with her appearance was unequaled even when Chris had been courting her back when he actually knew how to excite her. Yet the sessions remained as they always had. That weekend, she went out and purchased the most revealing, suggestive dress the town had to offer. Though Alan's eyes sparkled when he saw her in it, he did not vary the routine in the slightest. It had been so long since she had played the game of seduction that she wondered if maybe she had forgotten how. *** "Can I see your drawing?" Faith asked. "I'd rather you not." Alan replied. Faith frowned. "Please? After all this time I've never seen your drawing. I'd like to know how you see me." Alan blushed deeply at that, and Faith's heart fluttered. "Really, my drawing is very personal. I'm the only one who will ever see it." "I've spent weeks telling you my hopes and dreams and desires," Faith said forcefully. "What can you draw that's any more personal than that?" Alan frowned as he considered his answer. "I've drawn you the way I see you, the way you tell me you'd like to be. But it's the way I see you, not the way you see yourself. If I show it to you and you take offense, you might stop sitting for me, and I wouldn't like to chance that." "If you don't show me, I will stop sitting for you," Faith said heatedly, without thought, then immediately bit her lip as she realized what she had just said. The air was heavy with the moment as Alan considered her. His eyes fell to his tablet and then back to her, though never meeting her gaze. Faith's heart fluttered and it was all she could do to muster an air of calm and defiance to back up her bluff. She refused to let herself think what would happen if he refused. Alan sighed and held out the tablet for her. Faith snapped it up eagerly and then quickly stared at the contents. A sharp intake of breath betrayed her surprise at the image before her. It was her, but it was an idealized perfection of her. It was Faith with the perfect nose, the perfect cheekbones, the flawless complexion, and well groomed hair. It was the Faith she always dreamed of being. And she was nude. Gloriously, erotically nude in a pose that made her seem ready to pounce off the page and onto a man's lap. The intimate details were off, but considering that he had never seen her this way, it was remarkable how many things he had gotten right. "I've drawn you the way I see you," echoed through her mind as she stared at the breathtaking woman on the page. All this time spent trying to get him to notice her, to make a move so she could encourage him on further, and he had taken all her efforts and put them into this creation. In awe of his vision of her, she looked up and saw him studying her intently with worried creases etched in his forehead. "It's beautiful," she said as she handed the pad back to him. "It's the way I see you," he repeated simply, though with a note of profound relief quivering in his voice. For a moment, Faith almost smiled at the absurdity of it all. Before she had met him, Alan had been a mover and shaker in the world, a giant among men; yet before her was a shy, polite man who worried about offending a nobody like her. For the first time since she had met him, Faith finally realized that maybe she had learned something about the man who had captured her imaginations and dreams. Impulsively she reached for her strap, and with slow, gentle care released it. The tight, revealing gown fell away. Hesitantly, her eyes rose to meet his electrified gaze, even as she released the second strap, letting the dress fall around her waist. His eyes and the anticipation on his face urged her on, and after a few seconds of fumbling, she let her bra fall beside her. Over and over, she silently reminded herself that compared to what she had told this man, being naked in front of him would be a trivial thing. She stood and let the last of her clothing fall free. For a moment she basked in his approving gaze, and then tried to assume the pose he had drawn, but only ended up laughing at the absurdity of it. On paper, the pose seemed so easy and effortless; in reality it was silly and not something she could keep up for more than a few seconds. "Why don't you start a new page." Faith suggested, as she reclined in the lounge, assuming a pose she hoped would be inviting and evocative. Alan turned to a new page and began to draw. "Why didn't you just ask me to pose nude?" Faith asked. "I wasn't sure you would," Alan answered as he drew a long curvy line that outlined her luxuriant form. "When I write, I impose my will on the characters, but that makes them just a reflection of me. You're modeling a character as much as what I draw, so these sessions are always about you, never what I want you to do." "And what would you want me to do?" Faith asked. Alan's only answer to blush and bury himself in his drawing. "Have other women posed for you nude like this?" Faith asked, changing the subject. Alan nodded. "I've had twelve models in the last five years. None of them ever shared themselves with me the way you did. I'd ask them to talk, but most of them would just remove their gowns and sit. If they talked it was about nothing at all. I think the ones who posed nude simply thought it was expected. That's why I look for people who haven't modeled before. I kept hoping to find someone like you, someone who would let me into their life a little." Faith smiled at that, and seeing her, Alan met her gaze and answered her with one of his own. A silence descended before Alan prodded her. "I love that you will pose nude for me, but I love even more your talks. Please..." Faith swallowed, and for the first time since she removed her clothing, she felt truly naked and exposed. She knew what she wanted to say, but for the first time she felt that maybe there were limits to what she could tell Alan. Some things he would just have to discover for himself. And so, as he drew, she talked, but not about what was really on her mind. *** It started with Tonya Elders, who had noticed Faith's absence at the almost mandatory gatherings. It did not seem right to her, in a town where everybody knew what everybody else was doing, that Faith should be any exception to that rule. In another age and another setting, Tonya would have been a detective's detective. It took only a little digging to discover that Faith was sneaking off after school and disappearing into that perverted author's home, where she lingered for several hours before scurrying home to play the dutiful wife. For the briefest of moments, Tonya considered keeping her discovery to herself. Alan, after all, was not an unattractive man, and over the past few weeks she had actually been reading his current bestseller. It was pornography of course, but such beautiful pornography. Alan had been the first man in twenty years to inspire her to orgasm. Tonya actually sympathized with Faith. If she had been a few years younger, she might have kept the ad to herself. It might have been her posing for that man instead of Faith. It might have been with her that Alan did all those disgusting things he wrote about in his books, and the mere thought of that sent another electric tingle up her spine. Yet it was only for the briefest of moments. Faith was not only married; she was a teacher, of children. When the town discovered that someone entrusted with their children was posing for a pornographer, the uproar would be heard around the nation, if not the world. Tonya was almost giddy at the thought of the chaos it could cause. As Faith reclined in the chair, with Alan idealizing the gloriously nude woman before him, Tonya plotted how best to break the news. *** "This can't be me," Faith said, as she stared at the picture. "It is," Alan assured her. "It's how you see me, yada yada yada," Faith said mockingly. "Don't give me that. No man alive could resist the woman you've drawn. I can't resist her, and it's not even a guy!" "You're married." Alan said, frustration and disappointment welling in his throat. "On paper. Haven't you been listening to what I've been saying all this time?" Thunder rolled in the distance as they stared at each other. The electricity in the air adding to the electricity of the moment. - --- Lightning lit the sky a cobalt blue as the women sipped their tea and discussed the gossip of the day. Tonya raised her voice slightly to be heard clearly above the din, as she asked, "Has anybody else wondered where Faith Roberts has been spending her afternoons lately?" The quiet which filled the room, save for the distant rolling thunder, said louder than words ever could that more than a few of them had been wondering exactly that. With dancing eyes, glorying in the attention, Tonya leaned forward and spoke to her captive audience. - --- Alan leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. He knew she wouldn't reject him, he had known for weeks, really. He knew Faith better than he had ever known a woman, even those who had nominally been his lovers. He had known her marriage was dead, as surely as he had known he felt this attraction to her, an attraction that had only grown since that first meeting. If she had not been such a remarkable character study, he might have propositioned her. If he had not felt how seriously she would take an affair between them, he might have been more forward. He knew her too well to toy with her affections. He could not simply sate the lust she had instilled in him and move on. He couldn't have done this in a city of millions, where the moving on was a simple thing, let alone in this small town where relationships were magnified to the extremes. He knew she wouldn't reject him, but he was never-the-less surprised at how quickly she accepted his kiss, melting into his arms as her lips parted for him, and the first warm drops of summer rain began to fall. - --- "Faith and Alan?" Again and again the question was asked in disbelief. No one in the room could quite allow themselves to believe that the quiet, reserved school teacher had allowed herself to fall in with that pornographer. But they believed it without demanding proof, because it was so deliciously scandalous. "Who would have ever thought?" That was the question as they reveled in the excitement of the moment. Overhead, a sharp crack of thunder heralded the full fury of the storm. - --- Alan began to tear at his clothing as his tongue danced with Faith's. He fumbled with the buttons, and felt her hands tearing at them as well; she was impatient as him to remove the only barrier that separated them. The clothing discarded, Alan stepped back, pulling Faith with him. No sooner had he sat in the chair, than Faith straddled him, her sex pressing against his, her nipples pressed to his, as once again she sought out the kiss. They writhed against each other, reveling in the feel of flesh against flesh, relishing the touch of the other, the heat of their passion, the scent of the other. Faith pulled back, and lifting herself slightly, she guided him into her, lowering herself slowly onto him. She loved the feel of him in her hands, the texture of fleshy soft over hard, the way it seemed so alive in the way it throbbed and twitched in her palms. Alan grunted as she guided the tip of his glans within her, feeling the hot, slick walls wrap themselves around him. Though Faith was being teasingly slow, she betrayed herself as her quick, fast contractions tried to pull him in deeper, faster. And then there was no deeper, and as the rain began to drench them, they gazed upon one another for a moment before the demands of their lust required an answer. The warm rain pounded them, overloading already overloaded senses. Rainwater dripped from Faith's nipples as she rocked above him, then fell onto Alan's chest, and from there merged into a miniature river that flowed down his chest and stomach, through the forest of his pubic hair tangled with Faith's, and finally joined with the juices of their lovemaking. Faith threw back her head and let the rain pound on her neck, as she raised and lowered herself over Alan's writhing body. She opened her mouth to drink in the pure warm water, even as she drank in the ecstasy of his palms as they rubbed against her hard button-like nipples, his fingers pressing into and kneading the hot fleshy bounty. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning flashed so bright that for a moment it blinded and deafened them both, so that the only thing that existed was their touch, their ecstasy, their joy -- the feel of him within her, the feel of her around him. As the powerful wind raced through Faith's hair, sending it rippling like a flag in all it's fullest glory, Faith gave a sharp intake of breath and a look of intense concentration filled her face as she tightened around him, letting herself be carried by the orgasm as the leaves were carried by the wind. Feeling the intensity of her orgasm around him, Alan, already close to the precipice, yielded finally to the unceasing demands of his senses. Like a wildfire, his nerves exploded one by one by one, spreading outward until there was only pure, uncontested completion as he thrust again and again, sending his hot seed deep within the fertile womb of his lover. In the distance a ray of light broke through a small opening in the storm. *** Chris was waiting for her when she returned home. Her lovemaking with Alan had started late, and she had lingered long as they cuddled and played with each other while her clothes dried. Chris had been the very last thing on her mind until she opened the door, and saw him sitting there. Seven years of routine told her with a single glance that he was disturbed about something more than her being late. And he was. The news had spread like plague through the small town. Woman told woman, wife told husband, husband told friend, until finally the news had reached him. He didn't believe it at first, no more than he believed most of the outrageous gossip that sometimes struck the town's fancy, but he left work early anyway. When he returned to an empty house, he finally allowed himself to start believing the rumor. He had sat in the dark gloom of the kitchen for two hours, waiting for her to return. His thoughts were a jumble of self-pity, murderous rage, and fear. Fear because he still loved her after a fashion. Not as intensely as the start to be sure, but she was comfortable. He always knew, or thought he knew, where he stood with her. It always seemed that she was the foundation he had built his life on. Fear also, because he had no moral high ground if the rumors were true. Three months ago, Jean Coswell had walked into the store in a short skirt and a tight blouse that left little to the imagination. He had flirted with her for the fun of it, and she had flirted back. It pleased him to know that he still had that old magic touch. He had talked her into going to a nearby hotel run by Stu Peterson, who handed him a key with a wink and a nod that ensured that even in this small town no word would reach the ears of another. Then he talked her out of the blouse, and the skirt, and found, much to his pleasant surprise, that his imagination wasn't nearly as good as the real thing. She had been a great fuck, and over the course of a week he discovered that she really liked doing things he had always been too afraid to ask Faith to try. He recalled, with bitter irony, thinking what a lucky son of a bitch Jean's husband was, as he had worked his way up her tight asshole, with her moans echoing off the bare motel walls. Did that pornographer think the same thing? Moral high ground or not, it didn't lessen the intensity of his emotions now. Even if this were a tit-for-tat affair, she had no damned right to cheat on him, and even less to get caught doing it. Christ, he'd be the laughing stock of the whole town! It would have been bad enough with a native, but to shack up with the Johnny-come-lately sleezeball who was already the topic of everyone's scorn and ridicule was unbearable! He knew exactly what people would say, because he knew exactly what he'd be saying if it had been somebody else's wife who'd been boinging the perverted bastard. He looked up slowly with cold gray eyes, and met her questioning gaze. Hard lines formed on his face, as he said bitterly, "I didn't expect you to come back." His expression and tone said it all. Someway, somehow he had known. It took only a moment for her to say what she would have said sooner or later anyway. She could not live in a lie, any more than she could have remained in this loveless marriage. "I only came back for a few things. I'll be gone in a few minutes." Her reply left him so stunned that his mouth could only open and fall silently as he watched her march determinedly toward the bedroom. When he finally followed her, she was throwing things into a suitcase, taking no particular care in the packing. "Why, Faith?" "Because you haven't made love to me in a month. Because you haven't taken me out on a date for a year. I'm someone who cooks and cleans and keeps the house, but you'd be just as well off with a maid." She turned to him and brought the full force of her gaze down upon him. "Because I want more from life than what I'm getting, and I finally got a taste of what I've been missing, Chris. You only get one go-round in this life, and there are no second chances. This may be a mistake, but if I don't follow where this leads, then I'm gonna spend the rest of my life wondering what might have been." She surveyed the discordant contents of the suitcase before giving up on doing an inventory. If she were missing anything, she'd get it later or buy it. She slammed the lid down and locked the latches securely, before lugging the case over to the door. "Are you going to let me by?" she asked. Her voice was a challenge, demanding him to turn this into a fight. It would be horrible if it happened, they knew each other well enough to know which buttons to push. It would be ugly and terrible, but she'd win. Eventually she would be out the door and to the car, because she knew exactly what she didn't want, and that was living in a routine the rest of her life as the world which had once seemed so large grew ever smaller. For a moment, Chris remained motionless, indecision clouding his thoughts. He had never been a fast thinker, and this was happening too hard and fast for him to really get a grip on things. But he knew that tone. That tone said he'd lost before he'd even started. Yielding to routine, his shoulders slumped in defeat and he stepped back, allowing her to pass. *** Faith sat on the bed in the motel room, hugging her legs and worrying about tomorrow. The extreme emotional highs and lows of the day had left her exhausted, confused, and afraid. She had almost returned to Alan after she had left, but it would be such a cliche to arrive at his doorstep, suitcase in hand, a sobbing woman, all alone in the world because her husband had kicked her out. She was also afraid that the woman who appeared on Alan's doorstep might drive him away. So she checked into the motel, and since she wasn't a part of the "good ol' boy's network," Stu Peterson did not hand her the key to the room with a wink and a nod. As soon as she had left the lobby, he mentioned the new guest to his wife, who promptly called Tonya with the news. By the time Faith had given up any hope of falling asleep, and instead resigned herself to futile what-ifs, half the town knew she'd be sleeping alone tonight. *** Principal Elders was not in a good mood that morning. He had spent all evening listening to his wife tell him of the absolutely dreadful things that Roberts woman had been doing with that pornographer. He knew his wife well enough to know there was a kernel of truth behind the speculation, and he knew the town well enough to know that they'd just as soon take wild, rampant speculation as gospel over the truth. If the two happened to coincide, so much the better. If they didn't, the rumors would eventually fade away, and people would pretend that nothing had ever been said. But for now, the rumors were flying, and since Faith was a teacher, all eyes would eventually turn to the school board, and the school board's eyes would turn on him. Some days he disliked his wife more than others, and this was definitely going to be one of those days. "Well, if Chris heard it, it's a sure bet the rest of the town heard it as well." Faith said in a resigned voice as she took a seat across from him. "You know it's like living in a glass house." Principal Elder apologized. "So, did you want the juicy details from the source, or was there another reason you asked to see me, John?" Faith asked, more harshly than she had intended. She knew the day would be a bad one, but she had no idea how bad. It had started when she discovered she had not packed any toothpaste. It only got worse when she got to school and felt the silent stares of the other teachers, and even some of the students! Those stares were a thousand times worse than words -- there was no way to argue with or defend against a person's unspoken thoughts. John coughed nervously. "Faith, you're a great teacher. The best, most reliable I've got on staff..." "But... Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, don't say what I think you're going to say." Faith thought furiously, as her world threatened to collapse around her. "...but these rumors are going to interfere with your ability to do your job." John started speaking of the need for discipline and respect of the students, with rambling stray thoughts of the pressure the community could bring on the school board. Faith hardly heard him as she tried to come to grips with losing her husband and her job both in less than twenty-four hours. "So we'll put you on paid leave until the school board takes up the issue. After that I can't say..." Faith, numb to it all, merely nodded meekly. She didn't even know if Principal Elder had dismissed her, as she rose and headed out of his office. At that point, she really didn't care. *** After such an experience, the small, boxy motel room -- dank with the smell of stale, humid smoke and the faint, unmistakable aroma of old, cheap beer and even cheaper sex -- added insult to injury. She endured it because it was the only place right now she could call her own while she tried to work through her thoughts. "At least I didn't drag any children into this mess," she thought mockingly. Not that she and Chris hadn't tried of course, especially at the beginning, when the marriage was still strong and they were eager to face the world together. After a few months, they started making jokes about all those dire warnings against unplanned pregnancies. They were just like everyone else after all, and if they had so much trouble getting preggers, then it simply couldn't be as easy as everyone went on about. After a year, they finally admitted that something was wrong, and went to see Doc Collins. He put them through their paces and took a sperm sample from Chris, and sent it off to a lab to be analyzed. A week later, they got the word that Chris was shooting blanks, though Doc Collins put it in fancy, polite language meant to soften the blow. At the time, Chris seemed to take it well enough, but it was only later that she realized that was when he seemed to have drifted away from her. During the first year, she used to wake up to find Chris buried in her, slowly rocking in and out, just touching her, enjoying being inside her. He'd sneak up behind her in the kitchen, hike up her skirt and pull down her panties in one seemingly magical stroke and bend her over the kitchen table, which always seemed to be the most perfect height for impromptu lovemaking. After they had learned the test results though, the impromptu lovemaking became less and less frequent, until it eventually tapered to nothing. More and more, Faith discovered that if she wanted sex, she would be the one who would have to make the first move. They had discussed adoption of course, and Chris was standoffish enough that Faith dropped the issue. She thought that with time he would change his mind, but he never did. She never brought up the subject of artificial insemination from a donor after seeing the look of revulsion on her husband's face when Doc Collins explained that particular option. After years of wishing and hoping for children, Faith found bitter irony in feeling grateful that they had never gotten what they wished for. She shuddered at the image of herself in this small, cramped room with a child, or maybe two, asking questions that even now she didn't know the answer to. In a few hours, it would be time for her sitting with Alan, and she discovered that fact provided little comfort. Beyond the physical attraction, and a love for the way she could talk freely with him, she found that she did not know him well enough to say how he would take this development. Would he turn her away, having sated his lust, having no further need of her? Would he take her in out of a sense of obligation, and then resent her intrusion into his life? Was there really something between them beyond the wonderful sex they had shared? Her thoughts traced this circle of questions over and over again, until out of sheer desperation to extract herself from the pointless rut, she pondered another question entirely, and in that intuitive leap she found the answers she so desperately needed. *** She wore the red sundress, the one with the plunging neckline and the pretty sash above the very, very short skirt. Together with the effects of the high-heeled shoes, the dress made her feel like a sexual creature. When she had tried it on at the store, she had blushed furiously as she saw the effect it had on her in the mirror. She giggled as she thrust out her chest, trying to live up to the bombshell image the dress wanted to create. Bit by bit, the giggles had faded though, as she realized that maybe she really could live up to the image the dress portrayed. A simple gold necklace completed the illusion. She painted her lips a deep, luxuriant red, and added a light blush to her cheeks. Even in the unforgiving light of the hotel room, she had to admire the results as she studied herself in the mirror. She paused as she reached for the door, and found her hands twirling her wedding rings. With a fond, bittersweet smile in honor of remembrances past, she tugged the rings free, and left them on the nightstand by the bed. *** Alan's introduction to the effectiveness of the small town communication network came as he was buying a few groceries at the general store, and Hap Farther, who was pricing his goods, leaned over and said in a low conspiratorial voice, "Faith's a good one all right. If I were a few decades younger, I might have made a play for her myself, if I'd known she fooled around." The shock on Alan's face was so comical that Hap laughed loud enough to draw the stare of Bernice Dawson. She noticed the company Hap was keeping, quickly averted her gaze, and pretended there was an item she was interested in a bit closer to the checkout counter, and a bit closer to being within earshot. "I don't know what you're talking about." Alan said dryly, as he tried to regain his composure. "Oh hogwash. The whole town knows she's been sneaking off after school, and slipping into your place. Tain't nothin' wrong with it, man. Like I say, if I were a few decades younger, she'd be on my shopping list." "The whole town?" Alan's face was as white as a sheet. Hap nodded sternly. "Small town, ya know. Somebody saw somethin' they shouldn'ta, and mentioned it to someone, who mentioned it to someone. Don't take too many someone's in a town like this for everyone to know. Hear she slept alone in a motel last night though, can't quite figure that one out past Chris booted her out. I figured she'd at least run over to you." "Unless the rumors were wrong." Alan said bitterly, trying desperately to gain the upper hand. "Mayhap. It's happened before, but once the rumor's out of the hat, it's kinda hard to stuff it back in, if ya know what I mean and all." "Yea, I know what you mean." Alan said dejectedly, as he handed over a twenty to the old clerk. As soon as he got home, he dialed Faith's number, but got no answer. He finally got the nerve to call the school, and was told bluntly that she had taken a leave of absence. He dialed information and got a list of twenty area motels, but gave up after the first, when it became obvious, small town gossip or no, that even if Faith were staying there, the clerks weren't about to tell him so. It never occurred to him that the small town communication network could have told him the name of the hotel, the room she was in, and probably her phone number. And so he sat, and thought, and worried, and wished he could be with her, hold her, comfort her. *** She arrived at his house promptly at four, as she had since it had all started. His joy and relief at seeing her was such that he swept her into his arms, lifting her feet off the ground, and hugged her hard and deep and long. "I was so worried!" he exclaimed as he set her down. Faith smiled warmly as she answered. "So was I for a while. I see you've heard about us." "I always heard about these small towns, but it's one thing to hear and quite another to experience. You didn't have to stay in a hotel room last night. I would have loved for you to have slept here." Alan stared at the carpet awkwardly as he shuffled his feet. "I'd like for you to stay quite a while in fact." Slowly he raised his eyes, taking in her enigmatic face. "Maybe forever?" Faith took his hand in hers and smiled beatifically. "You don't know how happy that makes me Alan. To know that no matter how badly things might seem, there's someone who's there for me. That's a great comfort. But I needed the time alone. It allowed me to realize I wasn't running away from my husband so much as I was running away from my life. I married Chris as soon as I graduated from high school. For eighteen years, I lived under my parents' wings, and then for the next seven, I lived under Chris' wings. "As much as I'd really like to get to know you better, it's time for me to find out who Faith Roberts really is. I've got my teaching certificate, and I can earn my keep anywhere in the state, probably somewhere where I can start worrying about me instead of worrying about what everyone thinks about me. In the heat of the moment last night, I told Chris you only get one shot at life. I was right about that. It's time to start making the shot count." "You came to say goodbye?" Alan asked, crestfallen. Faith nodded slowly, biting her lip in sympathy with the pain etched on her lover's face. "That's it, then? One perfect afternoon of pleasure, and it's goodbye?" "Alan, it's not you. Really." Alan stepped forward until they were just barely touching, until he could feel her breath on his face. "And you dressed this way to remind me of what I'm losing?" The pleading in his voice was tinged with the barest hint of anger. "I-I wanted you to remember me fondly." Faith stammered, confused at seeing a side of him she never dreamed existed. This Alan seemed stronger, more commanding than the man she had made love with just hours ago. "Well, maybe I want you to remember me fondly as well," he said as he reached around her and pulled her close to him. "No. I don't want you to remember me, I want you to be with me." She gasped as she felt his hand on her bottom, firmly pressing against her fleshy curves, fingers pressing into the creases and folds, working their way ever downward slowly enough for a tingle of anticipation to course through her. This was not how she had pictured this meeting at all. She had thought that through her designs she had convinced Alan to have a fling with her, but this was not a man who had just been told the fling was over. This was a man who was doing everything in his power to tell her how much he needed her, and as his fingers pried their way between her legs, she responded to that power, and the passion with which it was conveyed. She inhaled sharply as his hot palm pressed against her sweet, sensitive inner thigh, squeezing softly as he caressed her. Involuntarily, she parted her legs ever so slightly, enough for his fingers to work their way under her panties and dip into her wet vagina. Confused, she raised her gaze, and found him staring back at her, studying her with an expression which brooked no argument while at the same time speaking of great need, passion and love. Her knees grew weak as his fingers sent a particularly strong wave of pleasure through her. She just barely caught her balance in time to stop herself from falling into him. The words "No" and "Stop" sprang to her mind. This wasn't what she wanted or needed, but looking into his face, she was afraid that if she uttered one of those words he might not heed her. At the same time, the feel of his palm on her leg and his fingers pressing inside her, weakened her resolve still further. How long had it been since a man had taken her simply because he found her desirable? Too long. Far, far too long. There was also a freedom to be found in being loved. She bowed her head and surrendered herself to him. She trusted that behind this commanding presence was the same man who had held her tenderly in his arms the day before and whispered sweet nothings in her ear as his fingers traced the outline of her breasts. When he sensed the change in her, Alan paused ever-so-briefly and considered how unlike him this was. But only for the briefest moments, before some deep part of him reasserted itself, taking pleasure in the high of this power trip. He smiled confidently, and scooped her up in his arms. He was not a large, powerful man, nor she a light pixie, but he did not feel her weight as he carried her to the bedroom. Faith was almost tempted to smile at this display of bravado, but none-the-less found she liked the feeling of being in his arms, and the determined seriousness of his expression. So she let herself get caught up in the moment, and snuggled her head into his shoulder as he carried her. He set her down gently beside the bed, and with a single, perfect gesture, freed the dress, allowing it to flutter to the floor around her feet. With equal ease, he removed her bra and cast it aside. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he caught her wrist, and his amused expression was all it took for her to know that this was still very much his show. Releasing her wrist, he fell to his knees and hooked his fingers under her panties. As he dragged them down her legs, he playfully ran his tongue through her labia lips, stroking tenderly up one side and down another. He extended his tongue fully and pressed it into her, swirling it around the rim before dragging it up slowly to suckle her aroused clitoris. Faith groaned with pleasure, but as she rested her hands on his head, he pulled back and stood up. He guided her onto the bed, and satisfied with her comfort, he moved down and lifted her foot off the mattress. She gazed at him curiously, wondering what he was doing, when he took her big toe into his mouth. She giggled at the absurdity of it, but her laughter faded as she discovered the pleasure of his tongue as it worked its way between her toes. That tongue, that marvelous, wet, soft, firm, dexterous tongue, then began to work its way up her inner leg, moving lazily along a meandering path. Anticipation filled her as he traced along her calves. Tingles of pleasure shot through her as he worked his way slowly, ever so teasingly, up her thigh. He lingered for an eternity at that sweet, tender spot at the very top of her thigh, so tantalizingly close to where she wanted that tongue to be, but so very wonderful where it was. Finally he relented, and began to stroke her crimson lips. After so much anticipation, she was in ecstasy from the moment his tongue pressed into her. She could feel herself clench around it, and if there was disappointment that it was not his penis, it was muted by the fact that it was doing things to her that the real thing never could. It was muted by the feel of his palms pressing against her thighs as he kept her legs parted, the feel of his fingers pressing into her flesh. She groaned loudly, and ran her hands through his hair. He did not pull away this time, but instead shifted his attentions higher, sucking her clitoris between his lips, grinding his lips around it, letting his tongue dance over the tip. Faster he stroked, harder he sucked, unceasing in his attentions and devotions, until all the little pleasures joined together in an explosion of mind-shattering intensity. Faith screamed in her orgasm, letting herself go with abandon as pleasure wracked her body and coursed through her as powerfully and consuming as she had ever known before. All the trials and tribulations of the past hours shattered around this most perfect of all gifts. The unforgiving pleasures of her orgasm faded to the feeling of Alan's tongue still exploring her, though with less intensity as before. He stood up and removed his clothing before lying down beside her. Then he took his one of her breasts in his hand, caressing it softly as he lowered his head and suckled at the other. Slowly, the gentle descent from her last orgasm began to change direction, especially when his hand drifted lazily down and began to finger her. Between increasingly faster gasps, she began to suspect that he planned to give her so many orgasms she would become addicted to him and never leave. As her hips rose to meet his plunging fingers, she toyed with the idea that as a rich, successful member of the leisure class, he might very well be able to do this to her for the rest of her life. When he ever so lightly bit into and tugged on her nipple, and her second resounding orgasm coursed through her, she almost wished he would… Even then he was not done with her, as he knelt over her, guiding his swollen penis to her still hungry vagina. She had not recovered from the second orgasm when he began to slide in and out of her, filling her, his swollen penis dragging along her still sensitive lips and clitoris. The afterglow of her second orgasm crested almost immediately into the third, which was a long lingering celebration of their union. *** It was dark outside when Faith woke. Alan had snuggled into her back, with an arm draped over her and a hand just lightly resting on her breast. His leg draped over hers at the ankle, and even after their previous activities, an orgy of lust and sensuality such as she had never known before, even after all that, she felt his sleepy, slowly throbbing penis nestled just outside the crack of her buttocks. There was so much about him that she didn't know. So much about him that she wanted to know better. She had never met a bad man before, the few she had known before settling down with Chris had all had their charms and quirks. In a world of good men, though, Alan was by far the best of them all. If anyone could have convinced her to stay under someone's wing, it would have been him. He had come so close last night. Hours of promises of her happiness, not with words that fade the moment they are uttered, but with action and deed that linger and fade only into a soft fuzzy memory to be recalled fondly. Even his domineering man to her submissive woman had been tuned only to her pleasures. If she stayed, it wouldn't always be that way of course. But it would be nice, of that she was sure. Maybe he would sneak up behind her like Chris used to. Maybe she would wake up to find him within her as she almost did just now. Maybe he would do things she had never thought of, but would probably enjoy immensely. He did all the little things that made sex so fun and worthwhile. No, it would be very, very good to stay with him. Slowly, being painstakingly careful so as not to wake him, she untangled herself and slipped out of bed. In the dim light of a weak moon through a dark, cloudy sky, she managed to find her panties, still pungent from the day before. She considered a moment before dropping them back to the floor. She'd heard some men liked panties; maybe Alan would like them, maybe he wouldn't. But it was no great sacrifice to make the offer. Quietly she dressed and turned to leave. She paused at the door though, before turning back. On tip-toe, and carrying her shoes, she walked back over to the bed. She leaned over and lightly kissed Alan on the cheek. She had worn the red dress to give him something to remember, but this parting would be better. For the rest of their lives, they would remember the last two days with fondness. One day, after she had discovered who Faith Roberts really was, she might give him a call, and one day he might still be interested. One day. Outside the house, Faith took in the dramatic sky, with moonbeams slicing through the clouds, and stars peeking out from the blue-gray opening. Chin held high, shoulders straight, and with a deep breath, Faith took her first step as a free woman. - -- BitBard -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: PGPfreeware 5.5.5 for non-commercial use iQA/AwUBNfCzPs6rl9LZOGBIEQKYEQCdFm7l82mXIxE005uyGquVhKxWpYEAnRwH H74orI9kXGFl6X0fYi8jnF+z =Mk4i -----END PGP SIGNATURE----- ==================================================== http://www.newsguy.com/files/Authors/BitBard/www -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----