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First, she knew she had descended (or was it ascended?) to a new level of deviant sexual pleasure and had created an appetite that she knew she could never satisfy. But she also knew she would try.
Second, she knew there would be a confrontation with John, now. There was no way she could fabricate a plausible, innocent excuse for being at a "film club" until dawn, and coming home with tender swollen nipples, bite marks, an inflamed asshole, and a vagina puffy and distended with abuse and overuse. Her marriage was over.
Finally, Carol mentally relived every incredible moment of what had happened to her at her student advisor's house. She recalled with perverted joy that every man there had taken a turn with her, each abusing her in some new and novel way, each impaling her with his fantastic cock, one after the other as she watched the other women being treated with equal cruelty and passion. She turned the memories of her pain and pleasure over and over in her mind like someone irresistibly toying with a painful tooth, relishing both the pain and the incredible pleasure, and unable, unwilling, to let it go.
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Carol pulled into the parking lot of the married student housing complex just as the sun broke the horizon. Frost began to drift away as steam as she walked, every step a painful reminder of her debauchery.
When she quietly entered the apartment (Why quietly? There would be no avoiding the explosion that was coming!), she saw lying on the table, a note from her husband:
"Carol --
Sorry, but I'm going to be up in the studio all night again. I'll try to get home tomorrow to see you and maybe grab a little sleep. There's some left-over spaghetti in the fridge if you're hungry.
I hope you had fun. Jess and Tony's club sounds interesting, you should keep going if you enjoyed it!
Hopefully we'll have some time together after I turn in this project.
I love you so much --
John"
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Carol was like a zombie, over-tired, over-stimulated, her emotions a jumble and her abused body exhausted. She somehow managed to take a hot bath and crawl into bed, where she instantly fell into a dreamless sleep.
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When John came home at about noon that day, he also was beyond tired. He had been working non-stop on the presentation for his thesis project for forty-eight straight hours, and was beginning to see after-images and feel faint. The regimen of gallons of coffee and high-sugar snacks kept the architecture and arch. eng. students awake, but eventually, they were all just shaking, twitching idiots, truly asleep on their feet, not accomplishing anything, and probably actually doing damage to their drawings as well as their bodies.
He was glad to see their little car in the parking lot, comfortable that Carol was safely home. He always worried about her driving on that busy two-lane road, but especially after dark.
He was surprised to find Carol still asleep, but he was careful to be quiet as he took his shower and climbed into bed beside her. He lightly kissed her ear, and she stirred slightly and moaned, then rolled over, back asleep.
And in only a minute, so was he.
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On Monday, Jess Spinelli dreaded meeting her student-teacher at school. As always in the days right after one of their parties, Jess felt astounded and somewhat repulsed by what she and her husband's friends had done at their parties. Yet, as each day went by, as the memory of the intense pleasure teased at her, she always found herself craving the experience again.
As the new, hot young flesh at their party, Carol had been the one who got most of the attention and she had been roughly fucked again and again by each of the men. She had been done by two at a time, and once, by three of the men at once. Jess clearly remembered (with a little thrill in her loins) Carol's cries as she was tormented and used sexually, and Jess could not at the time discern whether Carol was in agony or ecstasy.
Perhaps, as with Jess and the other men's wives, it was both at once.
How badly had Carol been injured? The men seemed to know the limits, although there certainly had been times when they crossed the line. Had Carol gone to a clinic or a hospital where awkward questions were asked?
Had Carol had a blow-up with her husband? Surely, he had seen the damage to her body ... there could be no doubt about what she had been doing.
Had he abused her further, thrown her out of their house, reported them all to the police or the school board, or perhaps gone out to buy a gun to seek his revenge?
Had Carol come to regret her behavior? Did she find Jess disgusting now, and hold her in the scorn and contempt she probably deserved?
The morning promised to be at least embarrassing and awkward, or, much worse, an ugly confrontation that could only lead to trouble for Jess.
Why had she allowed Tony to get Carol involved with their obscene "movie" club?
When Jess arrived in her classroom, she was surprised to see Carol already there, looking alert, composed, and professional, working away grading student papers from the previous week.
When she heard Jess enter the room, Carol looked up with a radiant smile, all sunshine and eagerness.
"Hi Jess! How are YOU feeling?" Carol said. "I had a great time Friday! When is the next film club meeting?"
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Now, Carol's story as told here in "Loving Wives," and as differently related in the parallel world of "BDSM," rejoins in "The Fall -- Chapter 05."
