The Blameless Bystander Ch. 12

"It has to be tough on you," James answered.

"Sometimes," Bubba admitted. "It hurts a little, but then I feel better knowing that I did it for her."

"C'mon, let's drink up," James said. "We've got a long day tomorrow and we're half-way in the bag as it is."

**************

It wasn't pleasant getting on the road at five the next morning. "If you wanna dance, you gotta pay the fiddler." Bubba moaned.

"It's not a fiddle that I hear in my head," James answered.

"There's a breakfast place just before the onramp for the interstate," Bubba said. "We can get something to eat. That always makes me feel better after a night with Jack. We can get the thermos filled up there, too."

"Just promise me—no cigars for a while," James replied, holding his head.

"Hey! Good one, James," Bubba laughed. "I feel better already."

James had to admit that he did feel better after breakfast. They climbed into the cab of the semi and got onto the interstate and on to Pittsburgh. James looked out over the West Virginia mountains.

"You're kinda' quiet today, James," Bubba said. "I know what you're thinkin' about. You're askin' yourself if I really meant what I said about Abby last night at the bar, or if it was the whiskey talkin'." James didn't answer, sorry that the subject came up again. "You don't have to say nothin'. I understand. What I said, I meant—and that's all I'm gonna say about it." Bubba looked away, gazing out over the road.

And so, James pondered his dilemma. Bubba had neatly punched his ticket for his periodic joyrides with Abby. In doing so, he added a sour taste to them. James never considered his liaisons with Abby as innocent, but he had thought them harmless. Bubba, then, was a virtual stranger in a semi-trailer who existed temporarily in Abby's house and then disappeared down the interstate. James took sex from Abby, but nothing else. She seemed happy with the arrangement and Bubba would never be hurt because he would never know.

That was all changed. Bubba knew, endured and accepted. James marveled at Bubba's love for Abby; wondered what it felt like to have so great a feeling. He and Bubba had become friends and that was a love of a different sort. Abby's sweet sex in the guestroom bed beckoned him, but another force that he couldn't name held him back. It made for confused feelings and it would be a difficult task to reconcile them.

They made it to Pittsburgh at mid-morning and spent two hours making three stops, selling half their load. "Let's skip lunch and get moving to Erie," Bubba said. "I've got two customers there and one last delivery in Jamestown. We have to get there before they close their receiving dock."

It was just six when they unloaded the final crate. "One more stop in Rochester to return the trailer to the leasing company. I don't want to get charged an extra day. Then, it's home to Bates."

At ten, Bubba pulled the semi into his driveway. He had called ahead to Abby, and when she heard him downshifting she turned on the outdoor light and stood in the doorway. James saw his car off to the side, covered with snow.

"I'd invite you in," Bubba said, not quite containing a grin "but, you know..." The two men had one last laugh together. The trip was over.

*************

The day after James returned from the trip school was in session again. When Vicki saw James she invited him for dinner and a home-cooked meal. James was glad to accept on account of the food and the company.

"I brought you a present from Florida," he announced as she opened the apartment door. He held up a sack of navel oranges.

"For me? I thought that you might bring some warm weather, but this'll do," she said, and then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

She turned to go back to the kitchen, but James grabbed her, pulling her to him and kissed her hard on the lips. "I missed that more than your cooking," he said as he released her.

"I guess you must have!" Vicki exclaimed, catching her breath. "You're worse than a sailor in port."

"Sorry," he said. "I just wanted to show you that I missed you."

"You can show me later," Vicki replied. "We'll have dinner first. It's nearly ready."

Vicki prepared a nice dinner—pork chops with a sauce and baked potatoes. It looked good to James, who hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. Vicki was quiet at first, watching James devour the fare. After a while, she smiled and broke the silence.

"So you'd rather sleep with me than Bubba?" she asked.

"Wouldn't you?" he asked back.

"It could get old," she answered wistfully.

James looked up. "No, it couldn't, not with you," he said. He continued looking at her, waiting to see if his words hit their mark.

"Well, that's good, James, because if you ever did get tired of me you wouldn't have any obligation to..."

"Vicki, what's the trouble? Did something happen while I was away?"

"No, just making sure of things," she answered.

"It's not just going to bed with you, Vicki. I like being with you, too. You're the only person in Bates I feel close to."

"Why, that's not true," she insisted. "There's that Jacobs family, and Abby. I know that Nathan likes you. What about Bubba?"

"Nathan's my boss," he reminded her. "I like Shirley and her family, but they don't understand me like you do."

"You're close to Abby," she said.

"With Abby, it's just for sex. She's nice enough, but we never talk about anything more serious than who'll be on top."

Vicki looked away from James. She took a deep breath and turned to him with a smile.

"Let's not talk about these things right now. We can some other time. Let's finish dinner and then be together."

James shrugged, a little disappointed that Vicki cut off the subject. At least, he was a little closer.

"And who usually get on top most of the time," she asked with a grin.

"Me," he answered.

"I would have guessed that," she said.

"You're like Bubba," James observed. When she furled her brow he explained. "You always use a joke to end a serious conversation when you don't want to talk about it anymore."

They spoke little as they cleaned up the dishes. When they finished they looked at one another and knew it was time to start.

"Do you remember the first time that we had dinner here?" she asked. James nodded. "We listened to music after we ate. Let's do that again for a while before we go into the bedroom."

While James looked for the Debussy disk Vicki kicked off her shoes. By the time he had finished with the machine she was sitting on the sofa waiting for him, bare to the waist. James sat behind her, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and some pillows. She eased back into him and he wrapped his arms around her.

From behind, James caressed her forehead and temples. As her arms dropped to her sides, he slid his hands down her shoulders, along the outside of her bare arms and finally, to her breasts. He just smoothed the soft flesh at first with long gentle strokes. Eventually he cupped one each hand and tenderly traced the nipples with his fingers and thumbs.

"Mmmm," she purred languidly. "This is the part I wouldn't ever tire of. It's so relaxing; it feels...good." James kept up the massage, eager to please. She leaned back against him a little harder. Every so often she would make soft noises in her throat, reminding James that he was doing a good job. Her nipples had stiffened nicely. Every now and then James would give one of them a small pinch. The bud would deflate for a second, and then harden almost immediately

As the music neared its midpoint she placed her hands on the triangle at the juncture of her thighs and pressed down. She drew a deep breath, and then whispered. "Don't stop!" James obeyed. Vicki released the hook and zipper on the front of her pants. She raised her hips up and slid them, with her panties, down her thighs. Her fingers dipped inside the folds of her labia and she began to press her pelvis up harder. James held her closer, continuing his part. Her breathing deepened and she let out little cries of pleasure. The sounds became louder and the pace of breaths quickened.

James felt her muscles tense and she let out a loud cry as she climaxed. She held it for several seconds, not allowing it to escape. Finally, she relaxed; it was over. James still held her breasts in his two hands.

"Thank you James for doing that for me. It was the best that I've had since that night when Abby was with us."

"This was the first time you came while I was touching you," James told her.

"Yes, I guess that it was," she agreed wistfully. She lay still for a few seconds more. Her mood suddenly changed from dreamy to playful. "Let's go into the bedroom now. How would you like it? I could give you some head."

"That sounds tempting," James replied. "I think that I'd just like to be inside you."

"Then you shall have it!" she declared.

*********************

When James woke early next morning he heard Vicki in the shower. When she came out she was wrapped in a bathrobe.

"Your turn," she announced. "While you're in there I'll get some breakfast together."

After his shower James dressed himself. Vicki had made French toast. She was still in her robe and they sat down to eat. "I'll have plenty of time to get dressed after breakfast," she said. "You need to get back to your place and change clothes before school.

They dove into the food and washed it down with coffee. When James had almost cleaned his plate she cleared her throat to get his attention.

"James, last night was our last time together...at least for a while."

James dropped his fork, and looked at her in disbelief. "Why, Vicki? I thought that we were getting closer."

"That's the problem, James," she answered. "We were getting that way; we forgot the rules. We should have just kept it fun—a roll in the sack once or twice a week. What would have been wrong with that?" Vicki's eyes were glistening.

"But, Vicki..." James started to protest.

She put her finger over his lips to stop him from speaking. "It's not your fault," she said. "It's not mine, either. You see, I missed you while you were gone, but I thought I'd fought it off. Then you came and said that you missed me, too. It made me feel things that I didn't want to feel."

"Vicki!" James cried in dismay.

"I refuse to fall in love with a man again, James. I have a special place for you, but I'll never let it be love. It just has to be this way. Maybe we can get together again when all this wears off."

James shook his head. "Are you sure? Don't you want to think it over?"

"I'm sure," she replied. "I'm going into my bedroom to get dressed now. Finish your coffee and let yourself out when you're done—okay?" She disappeared behind the bedroom door.

************

It was a long, slow day that James plodded through to get to the final bell. He took lunch at his desk in the Math Department office, instead of the Teachers' Lounge. He wanted to avoid running into Vicki. Moreover, the suspicious looks cast upon him by his fellow teachers were wearing down his patience. He wished that he were still on the road with Bubba.

He felt badly about his breakup with Vicki. He realized that he pushed her too far, too fast. Of his three sex partners, she was least talented in bedroom arts. It was the before and after that he would miss. He had spoken the truth when he said that she understood him better than anyone.

It wasn't so much loneliness as isolation that hurt James the most. He learned that loneliness was an accidental—or possibly self-imposed—condition that deprived him of contact of others. Isolation was something different altogether, an unwanted, imposed deprivation.

One bright spot was that that he had his regular tutoring session with Raymond at Tracey's house that afternoon. It would be interesting to see how much his student could do on his own. Before leaving for Florida with Bubba, he had assigned several chapters to Raymond without any related problems. "Just master them," was all he said. It was a test of Raymond's initiative as much as aptitude. As usual, James and Raymond worked at the dinette table while Tracey read on the living room sofa. James hoped for a hint that she wanted him to stay later. She did nothing to give any sign of what she was thinking. James decided to drop the matter until Shirley took Raymond back home. He just needed a reason to tarry at the house a while longer.

James was mightily impressed with what Raymond had done over the vacation. He had mastered the material that James gave him and worked all the problems at the end of the chapters until he performed them correctly. Best of all, he had questions about the material that were beyond the scope of the textbook. James answered all but one, which he promised to look up.

"Raymond, I'm really impressed at what you've done. It confirms what I was thinking. You're more than fit for any school that offers admission to you. Just don't lose your attitude about learning and you'll be better than okay."

"I'm thinking about going to Cornell if the financial aid is good," he said.

"It has a great Engineering School," James replied. "It's not far from here. Have you ever been there?" Raymond shook his head. "Maybe your mother or Tracey can take you sometime."

"Raymond, your mother's in the driveway," Tracey called out from the front room.

Raymond started packing up and Shirley was soon standing inside the front door. She gave James his usual plate of cookies. Raymond was soon ready and Tracey and James were alone.

Before he moved to pack up his own things James eyed Tracey sitting on her sofa. She didn't look back. "I thought that we could share these," James offered, holding the plate of cookies forward slightly."

"No thanks," she answered tersely. The rejection was plain enough and James was disappointed. He walked slowly to the able to pack his books. As he closed his briefcase he looked up and Tracey was standing a few feet away looking at him.

"I know what you're getting at," she declared. "I'd like to, but I just can't."

"Busy tonight?" James asked, hoping to save face.

"No, I'm not doing anything tonight, but I can't sleep with you. It would ruin what we had last time, if I gave less than everything—and I can't give that right now."

"I don't understand," James said.

"I know you don't. Just trust me. Someday, things might change. I hope that they do"

As James walked dejectedly to his car he couldn't have known what had happened to her earlier in the week to cause the refusal.

***********

Jarrod and Tracey lay in her bed in the aftermath of one of Jarrod's long lunch hours. School was still on Holiday Break, so Tracey had nowhere to go. Tracey snuggled up to him.

"Thank you for the gold necklace, Jarrod. It's beautiful!" she purred.

"You deserve it, Tracey. I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you on Christmas. You know—a lot of family commitments during the Holidays."

"That's alright," Tracey conceded. "I knew I would see you as soon as you could manage it. Did you like your pen and pencil set?"

"Of course—but you didn't have to," Jarrod said. "You give me plenty already." He stroked her bare back for emphasis.

"You look like you've got something on your mind, Jarrod"

"Actually, Tracey, I do. Maybe you can help."

"What is it?" she purred as she lightly scraped her nails along his chest.

"I've got a friend who needs help," Jarrod began. "His family just broke up. Not only that, he's under a lot of pressure from his job. He's so depressed; I can barely reach him anymore."

"Sounds sad," Tracey said. "I don't know where I would come in."

"I thought that you might know someone who could get him grounded again," Jarrod explained. "You know, take his mind off his troubles—like you do for me."

"You mean sleep with him," Tracey corrected.

"I mean, give him such a screwing that his toenails would pop off," Jarrod clarified. "I know that it would be just the thing that would help him. Otherwise, I think he's headed for a nervous breakdown. I can't let that happen. Besides being a friend, he's very important to my business."

"I don't know, Jarrod. Who is this poor soul?"

"Ethan Chandler," Jarrod answered.

"Ethan Chandler!" Tracey exclaimed. "The one and only Reverend Chandler? What kind of woman are you trying to find?"

"One who know her way around a bed, and how to get a man into one. It won't be a set up. He'll have to be seduced," Jarrod replied. "I'm going to take a shower. Think about it while I'm in there and then we'll talk about it some more."

Tracey ran down her list of friends, narrowing it to those who might be willing to take on such a task. She narrowed it further to those able to complete it. Finally, she eliminated all the names. She hated to disappoint Jarrod. He should have given her more warning.

"Did you come up with anyone?" Jarrod asked as he threw on his clothes.

"No, Jarrod! What you're asking is nearly impossible."

"You did say 'nearly' impossible," he said. "That's okay. I thought of someone already. I just wanted to see if you would come up with the same name I did."

"Who might that be?" she asked incredulously. "I hope you're not talking about my stepmother. She would never do it. She's waiting for Melvin."

No, no," Jarrod chuckled. "I'm talking about you. Just go visit Ethan this weekend and do what you do best."

"Me!" she cried, springing nude from the bed. "You're kidding!"

No, I'm not," he answered calmly. He finished pushing his tie to his collar and turned to her. "You're perfect for it."

She strode up to him, her face reddened, eyes widened. "Just what kind of whore do you think I am?" she shouted.

Jarrod was a powerful man and she never saw the blow to her face coming. There were spots in her eyes and her nose started to run a little. She felt the stinging on her skin as she began to realize what he' done. She was strong, so the blow doubled her over but didn't knock her off her feet—and she didn't cry. Jarrod stood silently over her, waiting for her to regain her senses.

"The kind who likes jewelry!" he sneered down at her.

The words hurt as much as the hard slap. Tracey drew her arms up over her breasts to try to cover whatever of herself she could.

"C'mon, Tracey. I don't want to hit you again," Jarrod followed up in a patronizing tone. "Let's not fight over this. It will mean a lot to me—and to Ethan. It'll probably be just once. Think of yourself as a therapist," he said with a laugh.

He put on his overcoat. "After you do it, I'll make it up to you with something special." He fingered the new gold necklace on Tracey's dresser, and gave her a knowing glance. Then, he turned and left for his office.

************

James pondered his sudden misfortune. It had not been long before then when he tried to sort out a balancing of three lovers. He had been quickly reduced to a single one. Still, she was a good one.

When James returned to Bates with Bubba after their Florida trip, he wondered if he should continue to see Abby. True, Bubba had supplied the permission as they drank in the bar in Charleston, and confirmed later in the truck. He couldn't help but think that it hurt his friend to do it and James felt himself contributing to that pain.

Things had changed. With his stable depleted, James decided to let Bubba's permission stand on its own. If he had someone to fall back on, he might have thought differently. He hated to admit it; he had to take care of himself, or no one would. It still bothered him, but he was sure that he'd get over the regret as soon as Abby wrapped her sweet little lips around his erection.

With a picture of a nude Abby in his mind's eye, James was hanging around the office area, waiting for Nathan to leave for the day. He knew Bubba was on the road for a rare weekend trip. There was little doubt that Abby would be receptive.