A Hot August Night

I don't know if it was the unrelenting heat or the penetrating humidity. It could have been the oppressive pressure of high debt and low hope. Regardless, it all contributed to the slow downward spiral of marital misery.

I didn't know if this is just the way married people act after seven years or if they just happen to drift out of touch with each other. I started to wonder if anyone out there was happy, I mean, really happy. The happiness you felt on your honeymoon. The happiness you wore proudly on your face even though you may try to hide it.

I certainly didn't show that smile anymore. I had a hard time even remembering what it looked like. Here I am, driving my wife to visit an old workmate of hers. Driving our older car that was held together with spit and glue. Of course, the air conditioning no longer worked. It did until the hottest August in memory set in and stayed like an unwelcome relative.

My wife Rene was sitting as far away from me as you could get. I'm not sure if the sneer on her face was intended for me, or just the way that our life has turned out. I tried to make conversation, but she answered with quick short answers. She didn't end her statements with "you worthless bastard" but she might as well have.

I studied her look, her posture. She was and still is a very pretty woman. Long jet-black hair (from her Irish heritage) that could gracefully fall over her perky breasts, but was tied in a ponytail. She kept her figure in shape.

I can remember us being nude on the beaches in France, making love for days at a time when I came back from long overseas assignments. I remember how much fun it was to go lingerie shopping with her and driving home at 90 mph to see her wear it.

But now, she worked in a sterile hospital supply inventory room. She wore white lab coats for work and quit wearing make-up. Lingerie was replaced with sweatshirts and running shorts.

I silently wished that I could return to our happiness and our honeymoon behavior, but I knew that part of our life was history. Internally, I knew that I was worsening the possibility of success as I was even mentally starting to divvy up the furniture and debt in my mind. I hope that she hadn't reached the same point.

We pulled into the long driveway of the rural home of Max and his wife Stephanie. Rene used to work with Max. They were good coffee break pals. They even used to go out have cocktails and cheer each other up. Their boss was unbearable and demeaning. I'm sure that the only reason they stayed as long as they did was because of their mutual support.

They tried several times to have the four of us be friends, but it was clear that Steph and I weren't on the same page. I didn't dislike her; she just seemed to be distant. And believe me, I didn't really need anymore distant people in my life. The winding and hilly driveway was longer than the block we lived on. We finally got to a clearing and saw their large farm style two-story house. It was situated on several hundred acres of meadows and small bits of forest. It was serene and quiet. Max and a large barking dog greeted us.

Max still had unruly black curly hair. He is an attractive six-foot tall man. He still sported the unmistakable swagger of confidence and achievement. He started his own company and was doing very well. He tried many times to hire Rene, but she didn't want to ruin their friendship, so she chose to stay in her unhappy, unfriendly job.

Max, as usual, had a large smile and hug for Rene; He offered a weak handshake and courteous "Hello Joe" for me. The dog sniffed us both and left for more interesting pursuits. Stephanie was leaning on the doorframe. She surprisingly looked very nice to me. Her long blonde hair was blowing with the hot air. The wind billowed up her ankle length cotton dress. For the first time ever, I became modestly interested in what she might be wearing underneath her dress.

Max was insufferable in touching Rene's arm and back while directing her around the house. I liked their setup. It was similar to one of the romantic bed and breakfasts you see in magazines while waiting for an appointment. I could also see the slow change in attitude in Rene. She no longer was the door-hugging ice-queen; she now was cheerful and happy. I felt jealous at first. I wanted to be the one to make her feel like this, but gave way to just being happy that she was happy.

Steph handed us both tall lemonade. A quick taste told me that it was laced pretty heavy with vodka. Rene, with a sultry smile, said, "I think you're trying to get me drunk".

Max said "yup" very quickly. "We want you too drunk to drive, so you can spend the night with us. We get very lonely out here in the middle of nowhere".

"But we didn't bring a change of clothes," I said even quicker than Max's' invitation.

"No problem", said Steph.

"We'll see," sprang out of Rene's mouth like a wavering mom addressing an insistent child.

Our hosts gave us an in-depth tour of their home. It was fun and inspiring to see how good that they've done. Everything was high quality. Whether it was furniture or computers and stereo equipment, it was the best available.

We ventured to the barn after the house. Max had his toys stored out there. He said that I would enjoy this, but it was really Rene that we wanted to impress. He had several classic cars in the process of restoration and a mud covered dune buggy as his prize.

Steph explained that he spends most of his free time driving the dune buggy around their property. "He does his best to get it stuck in the mud, then we have to work like crazy to get it free. Of course, then he does it all over again".

We went back to the house and sat on their deck, of course, being continually re-freshened with our spiked lemonade. The extra large cedar deck overlooked an above ground swimming pool. It was about 15 feet across and 4 or 5 feet deep. It glistened in the overbearing sun. An octagon screen porch was attached to the house.

I liked the feeling of seclusion. You couldn't see any other houses or people, just Max's dune buggy tracks, fields of grass and trees. I remarked how wonderful it was to be so secluded. Max said with a slight grin. "Well we paid a lot for this, but we make it up in swimsuit savings", Steph gave him a punch to the arm, "That was supposed to be our secret" she joked.

I was feeling the effects. My discomfort was dissipating. I started to have fun and keep up with the conversation and humor. Rene was a completely changed woman. I guess we all seemed to be a little different. I was no longer feeling pouty. Rene was no longer pissy, and Steph seemed friendlier than I had ever remembered.

I quickly fantasized about swimming nude with these people, but was abruptly grounded when Rene said, "Not me, I won't skinny dip". She didn't add any reason; she just folded her arms across her chest and looked pissy again. It put an official "Lull" to the conversation.

Max ended the panic and started to pick her up and said, "ok, you can swim in your clothes". She laughed and giggled and ran away from him. They ran around until Max got winded. He came back and poured new drinks for everyone.

"Hey Joe", he said to me, "Do you mind if I take Rene on a dune buggy ride?'

Before I could answer, Rene said, "Ya, it seems like fun", and ran with him towards the barn.

I looked at Steph and she returned the same quizzed looked.

"Have fun", she yelled to their backsides as they headed arm in arm to the barn, "Don't get stuck, we aren't going to come and get you".

The engine roared to life and the two helmeted people took off over the first hill.

"Well, here we are", Steph said.

"Ya", was all I say.

I didn't want the fun conversation to end, but it seemed to slow down. Steph came and sat down beside me in the shaded porch swing. She took a gulp and said quite boldly, "So, exactly how miserable are you?"

I squirmed in my chair; I didn't know what to say.

She added, "No, not here. I mean, how miserable are you in your marriage?"

"Does it show that much?"

"I can recognize it easily, because I also live it".

"I'm sorry", I said.

"No, don't, it's just the way it is. We're not happily married, but we're happy people. Does that make sense to you?"

"Ya, I guess".

"Well, I think that we were just as unhappy as you two appeared when you first got here. But we've adjusted. We have great lives live now, a bit separate, but happy all the same".

"That's cool", I said.

"So", she inquired, "do you mind if I ask what went wrong? Was it an affair?"

"No, just kind of seemed to die on it's own. You know, debt, this heat, arguing".

"I know. We had a lot of the same. I mean we're financially good, but emotionally broke".

She took a long breath, "do you feel like listening? I feel like spilling my guts".

"Sure".

"Well, several years ago, we were making love. We used to like to whisper things to each other. It made us hot. We'd talk about fantasies and stuff. Soon we started talking about our sexual experiences before we got married. I took a chance and told him about a black man that I had a brief affair with. Well, Max is a good man, a smart and successful man, but very prejudiced. He never got over it. He won't touch me to this day".

"Really?"

"Really what part? The part that he won't touch me or really the black man part?"

"Both. I can't believer either".

"Well, it's the way it is".

"That's a shame".

"What part?"

"Oh, the not touching you part."

"Doesn't the black man thing bother you?"

"No, not really. It's the past, I'm sure you did it for a reason".

"How much do you want to know?" She turned toward me, "'cuz I feel like talking about it, especially if you don't shame me for it."

"I'd love to hear about it". This time I got up and poured us more drinks

"Must be truth serum" she joked. "Well, I did it to piss off my parents".

"Were they mad?"

"No, never told them".

I laughed, "God, college kids are so rebellious. I think it's kinda funny".

"Ya that's it, rebellious, I had never put those words to it". I watched in amazement as this seemingly quiet farm wife in a yellow cotton sundress and tiny sunglasses was talking to me like she would confide secrets to a close girlfriend. Her demeanor went from shy to shocking. She continued to lament her story.

"I just had this crazy idea. I was in this bar near campus. One of the black football players was there on the prowl. I could see him scanning the bevy of cooing women to see which one he'd take home. It seemed so humiliating. But suddenly, for some unknown, I wanted to be humiliated. I needed to be the one he took home. I turned on my charm and won."

"In a matter of minutes we were fucking on the goal line of the football field. I knew that I was only one of his conquests. But, then again, it's exactly what I wanted. Does this sound crazy to you? Am I telling too much?"

"Continue," I begged. "Please"

"Well there I was, spread eagled, this big black man was pumping away. He didn't even know my name, and that turned me on even more."

"Cool"

"Really? Do you think so, I've never shared this with anyone but Max, and you know the effect it had on him!"

"It just seems so adventurous, yet casual".

"Well I was cuming like crazy, not because of him, just the visual; the rebellious innocent Catholic girl under a black man who only cared about getting laid. Matter of fact, he was a lousy fuck! Tiny prick. He was very quick. His part was over in a few minutes. He rolled off with a grin. I was still coming. He just never knew that it wasn't his fucking ability, just that for some odd reason, I wanted to be humiliated. And his indifference made it even better.

He took my panties, put them in his pocket to add them to his collection and left me laying on the goal line. I made myself come several more times after he left".

We both laughed. "That is the coolest story I ever heard".

She looked very relieved to hear that.

I turned my ear to the distant. I could hear the roar of the engine.

They won't be back for hours, she said. "Can I share something else?

"More stories? Yes, I'm all ears"

"Well, you may not to hear this one. Max is going to try and put the moves on Rene!" She held back, waiting for a reaction.

"No way!" I blurted out.

"Way!" She corrected. "I know Max. I know that is probably why he invited you guys up".

I was stunned.

"Does it make you mad?"

"Well ya, a bit. I mean, we aren't all that happy, but I don't think that Rene is into sex anymore. I don't think she'd welcome his advances."

"Well Joe, I know Max. I know his abilities. You don't become so successful if you don't know how to get the job done."

I was still stunned.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you". She coiled back.

"No. No it's good that you did. I really appreciate your honesty and directness".

She replied with statements that were piercingly true. "Hey, life is too short to be any other way."

"Do you mind if I'm direct back".

"It is what I prefer. Please be direct. I' love a man who is brutally direct".

I took a breath. "I thought I knew her pretty well, and I hate being so unhappy. But deep down inside, I think that it would be ok for her to do what makes her happy. How 'bout you, doesn't it make you mad to know that is what he is doing?"

"No. Not any more. He's done this before. And I know that he had deep feelings for Rene. I think is was just a matter of time until they got together."

"Hummmmpph", was all I could say.

"Cat got your tongue?" She inquired. "He used to whisper his fantasies about her". She raised her eyebrows and asked with a daring tone. "Want to know what they were?"

I was flushed. Angered. Hurt and intrigued. And growing a bit horny. I was about to ask a woman to reveal things that I never imagined. Yet, it made me very curious to know what another man thought about my wife. To know that these items were talked about while having sex made them seem even more daring to know.

"You know", she said, "many men like to know that their woman is desirable to other men. It's some kind of male show off thing".

"Ok, I guess I feel that way a tiny bit too".

"Well, it seems that she told him a long time ago about the time that you two went to a nude beach in France. Ever since that day, he would talk about it. He likes very hairy pubic hair, and since he heard her story, he would talk about it while we were fucking. He'd whisper how sexy she must look nude, how he would imagine her walking around the old office nude. He tried to imagine what her breasts would look like. He wanted me to describe them, cup size, and nipple size. He wanted to know if she had a hairy pussy".

"How'd that make you feel? I pried, "him talking about another woman while making love to you".

"I don't know, I guess I liked it in an odd and a humiliating way. It used to make me a bit jealous, but when it makes my man happy, I tend to accept somethings that I otherwise wouldn't".

"Hairy pussies"? I started to laugh a little.

"It's good to see you laugh. I was worried that once again, I had said too much".

"I love a woman who's brutally honest".

She laughed. "Well than you'll really love me, 'cuz that's exactly how I am".

I laughed again.

She got up and walked to the pool, she lifted her dress to her thighs and sat on the edge of the pool, "come on, sit down, and cool off your feet".

It's not all I have too cool off! I thought to myself, I had grown an erection with all the talk. It didn't help to have her raise her dress so high. I sat next to her.

She splashed some water, and leaned back on her arms and laughed. "I bet you never dreamed that this was going to happen".

"You are a mind reader".

"Are you sure you're ok"?

"Absolutely".

"Well, here goes another barrier, are you sure you're ok"?

"Sure as can be!"

"Want to go spy on them? I know a spot where I can spy on them".

"I'm up for it".

She grabbed my hand any led me away, "grab your shoes".

We walked towards a large, lush wooded area.

"How do you know where to go, this is a big area"?

"Well max is good, but not very original. I pretty much know his routine; he'll go racing and hill climbing with Rene. It is lots of fun. They'll be laughing. Then he'll blast though the water. It's fun, but it's also his way to clean the buggy, and "accidentally" get her totally wet. I noticed that she was braless. Does she usually go braless?"

"No, I thought it was the heat".

"Well it could be heat, but not the weather if you know what I mean"; she joked and put her arm around me as we neared the woods

"He'll probably splash her some more until her shirt is soaked…of course, he'll be studying her reaction. He keeps some pot handy if she isn't relaxed enough."

"Pot", I chuckled, "it's definitely her panty-remover material".

She laughed; "I hadn't heard that one before".

"He'll get her to lie down on the dock to dry off in the sun. He's probably already got her to say that she's unhappy. He'll get her to laugh again, smoke some pot, and then lie next to her".

"Wow, you do know him".

"Well yes, but I've also watched him before too".

"Really?"

"Guess I'm a bit of a voyeur down deep. He'll be the first to strip. Shock value, you know".

We reached a small clearing on the top of a hill. Stephanie stopped me and told me to stand still. She went ahead, focused her binoculars, studied the scene and came back to me. She said very cautiously, "Are you sure you want to see this? I don't want you going off in a murderous rage".

"Ya, I can handle it. I want to see how accurate you are".

She handed me the binoculars and I stopped behind the crotch of a large oak tree. I found them playing and splashing each other in the water. Yes, her shirt was very wet. I could even see her nipples from this distance. Her white shorts were wet too. Her dark pubic patch was slightly visible.

Just as predicated, he went to a dock, and stripped off t his shirt. He patted the dock and she easily lay down next to him. He must have told her to match him as she laughed smiled and punched his arm. I could tell that he was persisting, she was shaking her head. He went to the buggy and pulled out a joint it up and brought it to her to share.

Stephanie came up behind me, very close, put her hand on my shoulder and watched also. It only took about ten or fifteen minutes. Suddenly Rene looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then pulled her wet shirt over her head. There she was, lying with a man topless. He smiled and was probably complimenting her.

Steph was right on target as Max suddenly got up, took off his shorts, then his underwear, and lay back down. I could see Rene as she was embarrassed, but also looking around.

Without a hitch, she stood up, pulled down her shorts, then her panties and stood nude before Max. He studied her like an artist eyeing a masterpiece.

He took in her entire body then held her and kissed her. I could tell that she was kissing him back. Her body language was familiar. I watched silently as I was watching another man make his moves on my wife. I felt rage, anger, and incredible curiosity. I could tell that my face was beet red. My breathing quickened. Suddenly, I felt Stephanie pull herself closer to me. Her hand went to my crotch and massaged my growing cock. With smooth and deliberate movements, she kneeled on the ground next to me, unzipped my pants, dropped them to me ankles, and removed my underwear.

While I was watching my wife sitting on top on another man I was enjoying a spectacular blowjob. I watched his hands trying to catch her large tits as they were bobbing and weaving back and forth, up and down with her spasmodic rhythm.