Bridge Group Ch. 09

Chapter 09 – A Year Of Turmoil

Joanne:

I woke with a start, staring into the dark silence. Something was wrong. I glanced at the glowing red numbers reading 4:23AM and allowed my brain to reassemble the events and realize that I had fallen into a sound sleep waiting for Jack to arrive home. Still I sensed that something was wrong. Turning over, I swept my arm across his side of the bed.

Empty!

“Good grief, is he seeing someone behind my back?” I said to myself, a twinge of panic clutching me.

The irony of that thought after my own weekend of sex with Danny flooded through my mind. It didn’t push it out of my mind, just mingled there.

“Maybe he’s just out late.” I murmured. I closed my eyes, still troubled.

“Too early to get up.”

But sleep would not come. By 6 AM I had all I could take of lying awake with my thoughts and got out of bed and ducked under a steaming shower. The steam couldn’t remove the wrinkled forehead of worry, though.

“Where could he be? Not an accident, I hope.”

I stood thinking, soaping tender nipples and wondering. I slipped the soapy bath mitt between my legs and cautiously explored and soothed the tenderness there as well. I closed my eyes and gently soaped my pummeled pussy lips. I couldn’t help letting the smile return to my face. He had been so very eager, my young lover.

I felt like a new woman. I had asserted my own needs and run off with a young, virile, eager man who couldn’t keep his hands off me.

As I went down the stairs, apprehension returned, dousing the pleasure of reminiscing on the events of the past few days.

“Where on earth can Jack be?”

While the coffee drizzled and the toaster took its time with two slices of marble rye, I checked the phone for messages. None. The sun came above the horizon and began chasing the gloom from the room while I sipped the scalding hot coffee and crunched the satisfyingly crisp toast. I stared off into the morning light, and Danny’s taut, youthful body sprang back into my mind. My god! How he had loved me! His body beautifully lean. His cock firm and insatiable as it nuzzled me and then thrust inside.

I loved the excited look of wide-eyed pleasure as he had slipped in the very first time. His voice caught in his throat as he gasped, .. .. .. what had he said? I tried to remember exactly.

“Ohhh, … … my god! Ohh, … … so … hot! … “ He had said as he flattened himself against my body.

I shook my head to clear those thoughts and solve the mystery of my missing spouse. There was a scratch pad on the other side of the table, near the phone. I tried to read it by craning my neck, then reached across to draw it nearer. There was no note. Just a scribbled phone number in Jack’s masculine scrawl.

It was an out of town number, but it looked vaguely familiar. I dialed, and waited a long time until a groggy male voice answered.

“Theta House.”

I hung up without speaking. A cold curtain seemed to close around me. Theta House, Danny’s fraternity house.

Caught! Caught in my very first extramarital affair!

I realized that Jack had called Danny. Suspicious, I suppose. He had found that Danny was out of town, put two and two together, and leaped to the conclusion.

A cold lump settled in my chest. I resented his jumping to the conclusion - then realized how crazy that was. But where was he last night? Getting even already? All the strange possibilities filtered through my mind.

“Where is he now?” I heard my voice say.

I picked up the phone and then put it down just as quickly. I couldn’t call his office.

“What if he is not there either? How will I explain not knowing where the hell he is?” I thought. I sat there, willing the phone to ring; but it remained silent.

Trying to take my mind off what had become a big problem, I unpacked my bag and put all the clothes into the washer, examining each garment as I dropped it into the water. The torn panties I stuffed into my pocket to discard discreetly.

“You pick a hell of a time to be discreet!” I muttered to myself. I leaned against the warmth of the washer as the agitator strained under its load. Everything reminded me of fucking Danny, even the back and forth slapping sound of the washer. I shook my head, trying to hold back those thoughts.

It was a long day. Jack didn’t call. On top of everything else, it was a rainy, gloomy day; my mood sank lower by the hour.

I found myself talking to myself, rehearsing the difficult conversation I knew would come when Jack got home. I was getting angry with him for not calling. At the same time, I was thinking through all that happened.

After all, Jack was the one who had brought me along to this affair.

“He was right, I had been too up-tight sexually.

“I was way too repressed about sex. I realize that now. It was bad for our marriage.”

Replaying the events of the last few years, I stared gloomily out into the drizzling evening darkness.

“It was you who realized it first! You who kept suggesting those things. You how wanted me to play out your fantasies! You!” Tears rolled slowly down my cheeks as I sipped a little more wine.

My upbringing had been very restrictive about sexual matters. It was never discussed except in a “you don’t do it” manner of speaking. And then when we married, it was hard to make it all right in my mind. I even wanted to hide in the dark to undress at first. Jack was patient I guess, but eventually, it started to bug him. But that was just in the beginning. I was a shy person. It took a long time before I was self-confident enough even for nudity in marriage.

“I was shocked at what you wanted to do! But you just didn’t give up. It was one thing after another. And then the fantasies involving Danny started,” I said indignantly. The sound of my voice echoed around the empty house.

But the fantasies about Danny made me smile.

“But, you were right, Jack, you were right.” I muttered. “I don’t want to be that “mousy” little girl again. I don’t want to spend the second half of my life hiding under a bushel basket! No! You’re just going to have to get used to it. I got used to you, you know! You and your wild ideas!”

My practice for the big argument was rationalizing my behavior and making me feel vindicated. Where was he, I wondered. Why doesn’t he come home and get it over with?

“I know this can’t last. Oh, yes, I know it can’t last. Danny will move on soon. On to someone his age, someone right for him. ….. And that will be OK too. But for now, …….. for now …… I .. just .. have … to have …… him. I just hope you can .. deal with it, ,, ,,, dear Jack.”

Jack’s car lights turned into the drive. I sat waiting in the darkness, not bothering to turn on the lamp. The garage door closed.

I wiped a tear from my cheek and turned on a light. The door opened and Jack was standing in the doorway.

“How could you do it?” No hello, no nothing. Just that accusing question. My heart sank.

It went downhill from there.

“What do you mean ‘how could I do it?”

“Don’t give me that! You betrayed my trust!”

“Listen, Jack, you’re the one who started th .. .. ..!” I began.

“Don’t give me that crap. That was all for OUR pleasure! You just did this for YOUR pleasure alone! How could you?” It was as if he too, had been rehearsing his speech.

“Be reasonable, Jack. Let’s talk this through. You know it can’t last. It’s just something I had to do for me.”

We talked, mostly in loud voices, for a couple of hours. I thought at one point that he was going to hit me. I flinched and he drew back a little, falling silent.

Sullenly, he stormed up the stairs. I followed, trying to convince him that he should stay. I sat on the bed as he packed a bag.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Away from here. Away from you! I can’t take it!”

“But, Jack.. .. ..”

But he slammed the door and I stood silently biting my fingernail as I heard the car start and screech slightly as it left the driveway.

Jack:

“Six months. Yeah, it’s been about six months, now.’

“Are you getting a divorce, then?” Jolene asked, tilting her head and turning to look at me. We were sitting way back in the corner of the bar and I saw the disk jockey motion toward her.

“I dunno. Just separated right now.”

“I gotta go, I’m up next. She put her hand on my arm and spun around on the barstool. I looked down and looked longingly at the dark top of stockings in the split of her dress. She grinned at me and nudged my shoulder.

I watched as she began her hip-swiveling dance, slowly losing her clothes and hanging upside down on the vertical brass bars at each end of the stage. I watched as the front row guys got their thrills pushing dollar bills down the front of her g-string.

When she returned, she was carrying the dress and she was nude, standing next to me, steadying herself on my arm as she tugged at the sling of her pump.

“You know, I’m glad we have become friends. I like you coming in and talking,” She said. “But I have to go make some money.”

I laughed sardonically. “Yeah, I know, I know, I’m a lousy tipper!”

“Right, but you’re cute!” She whispered into my ear. I could feel the warmth of her body. “Listen, it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m not working. Want to come to my house for dinner?” Her luscious lips were crimson and inviting.

“Really? I should take you out. How about that?”

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetie! I accept.”

I watched the beautiful fluid roundness of her bottom as she walked away and then turned quickly to catch me staring at her. She grinned, and I pretended embarrassment and turned away.

After a few lap dances over the next few weeks, it was clear that I was a fan of hers. I was one of her regulars, and we had nice conversations that had become even more important than the feel of her pussy snuggling against my lap, or those firm young breasts against my face. We even slipped out for a cup of coffee on her breaks. The coffee breaks soon dominated. We each knew a lot about each other’s lives. Her father had left when she was 5. Her mother was a saint who had kept her straight. Now she was dancing to pay her way through college. It was a nice American story. I liked her very much, too. I thought she like me too.

So, now it was going to be a date. “My god,” I wondered, “what the hell do you do on a date these days?”

Her apartment was in a new complex on the East Side, a few blocks from the college. Her roommate answered the door.

‘You’re Jack?” She leered.

“I’m Jack.”

“Come on in. She’ll be ready in a minute. I’m Sally. Sit down, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes, got a class.” She curled up on the end of the couch, long caramel colored legs tucking under her knee length, black skirt.

“What’s your major, …….?”

Before she could answer, Jolene came down the hall, fastening an earring to her earlobe.

“Are you flirting with my roommate already? I can’t trust you out of my sight!”

They giggled together and left me sitting there feeling a little tongue-tied between two beautiful girls.

“OK, OK, I’m going, I’m going! I can take a hint.” Sally protested as she swung toward the door, an armload of books under her arm.

Still fiddling with her earring, Jolene turned a radiant smile toward me, and waited for me to say something. I was dumbstruck. She looked gorgeous. Accustomed as I was to seeing her nude or in slinky, sexily sequined dresses, I was unprepared for this. I have no idea what I expected, but a beautiful girl looking just like a choir member ready for church wasn’t it. Jolene wore a tasteful, knee-length brown dress. It fit her body beautifully, but not tight, not obvious. It draped gracefully over full hips and cinched her slim waist to focus attention on full, round breasts. A button closed the top at her neck, and topped a tasteful oval space where the hint of breasts, lovely and ripe peeked out. A single strand of pearls and solitary pearl earrings looked elegant against rich dark skin.

“You look, … wonderful …” I managed. I handed her a small gift box. “This is a little nothing, really. But, happy birthday.” It was a simple silk scarf, carefully selected, but nothing special.

“Oh, .. a present! I love presents. Thank you!” She opened it hurriedly and held it up. “Its perfect. I love pretty scarves! Thank you.” I suddenly wished I had brought something more, it seemed so insignificant. Jolene, however, seemed to like it. She turned to a large mirror and slipped the pearls off and substituted the scarf, then turned to me.

“What do you thin k? I don’t need the pearls now!” Her enthusiasm made it perfect. She looked at the mirror, adjusted the knot to the side and looked at me, her white teeth gleaming in a happy smile.

It looked perfect. A nice touch of color, perfectly coordinated. Completely accidental, but perfect. She looked like an ad for cosmetics, if you know what I mean. That gleaming, clean look the models have in the ads.

Dinner was excellent in my favorite restaurant. It’s small, and the service is unobtrusive and knowledgeable. All eyes, male and female, were on Jolene. She was charming and good company. My morale was at a high.

As we came out of the restaurant, she asked: “Shall I take YOU to one of my favorite places, now?”

Not knowing what to expect, I followed as she led the way to a private club in a basement downtown. The door opened, just barely, onto a large, low-ceilinged room, jammed with people. The noise was louder than I like, but I was in the mood for anything. I followed Jolene through the crowd, which parted for her graceful entry. She held a hand back for mine and I followed her swiveling hips and round bottom through multicolored lights swirling around us.

As the crowd parted, all eyes were on Jolene, including mine. We stood behind a double line of people at the bar and she held my hand and leaned close to be heard:

“Like it?”

I laughed and shrugged, then changed it to a nodding “YES!” She laughed and turned to the bar.

The bartender tipped his head and looked at her, mouthing a hello. He said something to the crowd at the bar and they let Jolene reach in for two drinks. He smiled and waved away any money. Obviously, Jolene was a big hit here.

Again I followed the slim waist and the round bottom happily, turning to the wave of eager males along the way and muttering:

“No way, Mac. Not a chance.” I was enjoying being in her entourage. We found a place to stand and sip our drinks. Again, she snuggled close to me, still standing regally amid the attention.

I slipped my hand around her back and sensed the silk sliding over her slim waist. She leaned against me as I caressed the swell of her hip. Her wrist brushed against my cock and she looked up at me with a sly grin. I pulled her tight against me and languished in the pleasure of her youthful body pressed warm and feline against me. I looked down the dark valley between her breasts and my cock swelled against her hand.

We danced, or wriggled with the crowd to music that I didn’t recognize.

A good-looking young guy asked for a dance and she looked at me for permission, then went off to the floor. I stood in the middle of a psychedelic scene, a bit out of place, but feeling good. I watched as her lithe form moved gracefully under the lights over the dance floor.

When she returned, the young guy muttered “Thank you, sir., ” and moved away. The ‘sir’ took a little edge off the scene for me, but I recovered.

Jolene took my hand and led me through the rest of the room and out a side door. The door closed and the silence was stunning. She giggled mischievously.

“Did you really like it?”

“Sure!” I grinned.

We laughed happily down the street to the car and I watched her long legs tuck neatly in through the door, skirt hiking high on her thighs.

As I started the car, she said, “I have one hour left of my birthday. Do I get to ask one very personal question?”

“I guess so. Yes.” I said, not knowing where this might go.

“OK, then.” She paused. “Are you going to invite me to sleep over?” Her eyes smiled.

We sat smiling at each other. Finally, I said, “Now how am I to answer a question like that?”

“Sorry. I was just afraid you might not ask. That’s all.”

It was quiet for a moment as I drove down the street.

“Jolene, will you sleep over tonight?”

Her hand slipped over mine. “Yes, .. I think I will! I thought you’d never ask.”

I parked the car in the curved driveway of my ancestral home and switched off the engine. Jolene was staring at the columns that fronted the big old-fashioned porch and the dark awnings hooding the windows upstairs.

“Jeeze! Mama lives good in the ‘hood, don’t she?” she said, affecting a very deep black patois and rolling her eyes at me.

“Yeah, Mom does OK.” I opened the door and walked around to open her door as she waited. The under-dash lights glowed over luxuriant, showgirl legs as she swung out and stood tall and lithe next to me, still looking at the house.

The heavy door swung in and I flipped on lights.

“Nice.” She murmured, looking around.

I opened a bottle of wine and sat across the coffee table from Jolene. She had slipped off her shoes and tucked her legs under her on the big deep couch.

“So, tell me, what’s happening with your wife?”

“Ah, that. Well, not much, I guess. Why?”

“Just curious. You told me about being separated. Going to get divorced?”

I looked at her, and thought about it while I spread some cheese spread on a cracker and held it for her to nibble from my fingers.

“Sure you want to know all that ugly stuff?”

“Sure.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds you know.”

“Are you talking?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve talked.” She waited expectantly and I looked longingly at her lovely young body. The pretty legs, the lush lips , the open collar so inviting between her breasts.

“And?”

“Trouble is, .. .. when you talk and both people get mad, the volume keeps going higher. You see, she thinks she just did what I encouraged her to do -- get more sexually involved. She doesn’t see why I am suddenly so pissed off.”

“Are you sure you’re being fair?”

“Probably not. Who is in these things? One person raises her voice, then you raise yours. It gets so loud that you step back. It gets louder so you step back again. You find yourself shouting at the top of your voice from opposite sides of the room and then you can’t hear anything. Don’t let this happen to you, you hear?” I laughed, but the laugh was hollow.

“But you’re still trying?” Jolene snuggled deeper in to the couch and I appreciated the expanse of thigh she showed me.

“A little, I guess. Well, not really. God, I wish you weren’t studying sociology!”

Jolene laughed and I longed to kiss those lips that flashed open on white teeth.

“So, what’s holding up the divorce?” She asked.

“Despite the statistics, it isn’t so easy as it sounds. I think that the fifty percent of marriages that end in divorce, … … were never really marriages. A lot of them got married because it was time to get married, .. .. .. more than it was the right person. I mean, at least one partner didn’t commit in the first place.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Anyway, I’m surprised to find that that ‘til death do us part’ thing is a hard thing to toss out. I don’t know about other people, but, I find it hard to get past. Do you have any idea what I’m saying.”

“Yeah, I think so. So, it’s not that easy, eh? So why not forgive and forget.”

“Ah, that’s the other problem.” I laughed.

“Can’t do that either?” She said, a tiny smile crossing her lips.

“Nope.”

“Must be frustrating.” She said, sympathetically.

“You could say that,” I laughed halfheartedly.

Jolene asked to see the rest of the big old house and after a brief tour downstairs she followed me up the creaking stairs, watched as I wound the huge grandfather clock, and then peered into my old bedroom.