Down the Rabbit Hole Ch. 01b

How do women respond when faced with the dreadful reality of men being unfaithful in their marriage. This story is about a wife being touched by the very same issue and who tries to cope with the situation by being more adventurous with her new acquaintance.

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I must admit that Martha is an exceptionally effective woman. She has short cropped hair, with a long, asymmetrical fringe that falls over one eye. Martha's skin is stretched like a semisena, unlike mine, even though she is several years older than me. I have no illusions that this is the result of frequent treatments and interference of the best specialist in aesthetic medicine in the city. Her husband happens to be the person. But this slim, muscular body is due to her stubbornness and determination.

She greets me with kisses on both cheeks and hands me her coat. I obediently hide it in the wardrobe and watch in the mirror as Martha smooths a red satin dress across her stomach. What would I give to wear a dress like that. Sadly, I cannot wear tight dresses any longer. She is petite, everything is slender: even slanted eyes and lips - like a porcelain doll from the 30s. Breasts standing at attention, protruding out under the slippery material. The deep neckline reveals a tiny characteristic mole in the shape of a fuzzy diamond.

I now feel like a donut in frosting wearing my powder pink dress that was supposed to look youthful and natural. Richard pulls a chair for Martha and asks me to prepare a martini with two olives for her. Ron, Martha's husband, will drink 16-year-old whiskey that he keeps for special occasions. I will divulge myself with plain water. This is going to be a long night. I make drinks and then head back to the kitchen to season the lettuce. I hear all three of them discuss their patients lively. In the past, their stories even amused me.

"Sweetheart, can I have a coffee, please?" Richard says.

Martha materializes in the kitchen. I have a feeling she stood there longer and stared at me before deciding to speak.

"I'm dead on my feet," she continues.

"I recovered thirty fibroids today from a woman whose uterus had been removed at another hospital. Routine work... and then I stayed in the office receiving at least twenty patients today. One came in, in her fifties. Overgrown so I wanted to cut her with office scissors, can you believe it?

What are they thinking? I ask when was the last time she went to the gynecologist and she said that on her third child. Twenty years ago! I can't believe it... Eh, sometimes I would just sit at home like you and rest..."

I serve her coffee made in an espresso machine, which Richard and Barbara brought from Italy many years ago. Martha absorbs the rising aroma and takes a sip. She has pulled one foot out of the heels and is massaging her calf with it.

"Sweetheart!" She suddenly exclaims, and the meat tongs I held almost fall out of my hands. She takes my hand and studies me with the eyes of a disgruntled teacher scolding a student. I have the impression that she is about to reach for the ruler. Or for office scissors...

"I must point you to my manicurist, your hands curse the heavens in frustration. If you don't take care of yourself, Richard will look for someone else."

"Will he now. Because I have unfinished nails?"

Martha looks at me pityingly.

"Child... Do you know how many patients he receives would be willing to remove their panties for him?" And not for testing mind you. I bet there would be huge line formed up to his office

.

"Okay? How do you know?"

My patients do not come to me well-shaved and with a new pedicure. I'm telling you this, sweetie, for your own good. Home is home, children are children, but you also have to look after yourself. If not for yourself, then for your husband. She sums up and leaves the kitchen.

I watch my reflection in the oven. Even though I had straightened my hair for half an hour, my hair curled again into a shapeless nest due to steaming flesh. I didn't have time to paint my nails. In any case, it wouldn't make much difference. The hands are dry and rough, with protruding cuticles. Swollen enough that I had to remove the rings.

I feel tears streaming under my eyelids. I take a few deep breaths. You have to serve dinner, I try and motivate myself. I'll take care of myself another time.

"It all looks so beautiful! Martha claps her hands as I finish fetching starters from the kitchen and set the platter of steaming tenderloin a little too close to her. As if she was sunburnt, she pulls away from it. Richard rushes to help her and sets the dish in the center of the table, scowling at me.

"Watch out!" he growls.

"Nothing happened." Martha gives him a sweet smile.

"By the way I forgot to tell you, Ron and I haven't eaten meat for two weeks". She looks at Richard apologetically.

***

I love Shania because I lost my virginity to her album and not in a musical way. I feel good whenever she sings. Her vocals and the scent of the pine forest bring up fond memories from my first time.

I did it with Tim, my first love, at a sailing camp in an excluded cottage. We sneaked into the room upstairs while there was a party down below. The window was open, and there was a muggy smell of resin from nearby pine trees. I've never seen a naked man in person before, but I really wanted to see. Tim was gentle. He was already doing it. A week earlier, with our friend from the camp, but it didn't bother us. He even had a girlfriend for two years before that. From day one, we all had a crush on him.

So when Annie, with whom I am friends today, came after the first disco and announced that she had just slept with Tim, the most handsome boy in the entire resort. We envied her a bit. We eagerly sat down in a circle and demanded details with squeaking enthusiasm.

They went all the way, she said. First, they kissed like savages in the middle of the dance floor, and then they slipped out into the woods. Tim removed his sweatshirt and placed it under Annie's back for comfort. He even cleared out the pine cones so that they wouldn't crush it when they laid down.

"How compassionate!" We chimed in and continued listening. As vixens, we were hot and bothered during a certain point of the story. Annie noticed our reactions and continued, trying to make an even greater impression on us. She said the pain she felt at the beginning was quickly replaced by the immense pleasure.

A sensation so overwhelmingly new to her that she couldn't help yelping during her first peak. Wild kisses were planted everywhere, intensified by their mutual hunger. We listened to Annie's story with our mouths open, we were shocked yet fascinated. Each one of us longed for more information. However, I wanted to find out for myself.

I did not ask Annie for her opinion, I knew that she had a boyfriend in Georgia. They gave themselves a free pass on vacation. I liked Tim more than others, I immediately fell in love with his hazel eyes.

When a week later we left the dance floor at the party and went upstairs, I turned on the lamp next to the bed. I wanted it to be bright and clear so I could see his carefully sculpted, tanned body. He appreciated it. He showered me with compliments, praising my body, and I was bursting with pride. It motivated me so much that I decided to lead this whole charade.

I wasn't going to duplicate Annie's moves, so I had to think of something new. I got off his hips and slid lower. I kissed every inch from his neck, torso, belly down to his belly button. I wanted to make Tim feel good, and I tried my luck with the art of fellatio. Having been inexperienced in the craft, I definitely made it up with my enthusiasm as Tim began to moan loudly. "If you don't stop, I'll be right there," he gasped.

We were drowned out by Shania singing her hit song about "any man of hers".

I looked into Tim's eyes. They were dark, as if unconscious, and the pupils almost completely covered the iris. I paused and smugly lay down on my back politely, waiting for his move. He understood immediately. He reached for a pillow and tucked it under my bottom so that my hips opened up to him, he could see me in all its glory and somehow it did not embarrass me at all. He took me that night with animalistic eagerness and I wasn't complaining. This is how I had my first ever orgasm with a man.

***

The car rattled while I drove through the pothole. Shania stopped singing on the radio as we drove onto McHenry street. I realized the silence in the car once I woken from my reverie. Looking into the mirror I noticed that the boys were asleep. An Audi S5 appeared in the driveway as I was pulling up. What was Martha's vehicle doing here? Maybe she had some urgent business with Richard.

As I park in front of the gate without waking the boys, I take out all the bundles Richard's mother had loaded me with from the trunk. I regret this decision immediately after entering the gate, because of the irritating noise those glass jars made as I walked. Why am I always carrying everything myself, instead of asking my husband to come out and help me?

I stand frozen in the middle of the driveway, somewhere near the rose bed.

A soft golden light shines through the kitchen window, casting a silhouette shadow of a slender figure. I approached silently, not wanting to be spotted. Inside I was alarmed, waving an imaginary red flag.

The suspicion was growing, whether I wanted to admit it or not. Hesitantly, I angled my vantage point so that I could peer through the kitchen window. Sunrays blinded my eyes, but what shocked me the most was the roundness of the female's behind which was illuminated by the light. It took me a while to realize they belonged to Martha, as I was baffled and mostly blinded.

She rests her head on the tabletop. I will recognize that black, short-cropped head everywhere. If she had her eyes open, she would surely see me outside the window, but she doesn't. Instead, she reaches back with her palms, grabs the buttocks and parts them. All of her private parts are on display. I just stand there confused, rooted to the spot as I watch Richard kneel behind her. His head started to move in random directions as he was administering cunnilingus to his assistant.

As the scene continued, I began to realize how ridiculous it was. Blood in my veins starts to boil watching my husband, who avoids cunnilingus because as he claims sees enough muff every day. Yet he eagerly performs this distasteful art on his assistant before my very eyes?

Watermelon rolls down the gate as I drop the pots on the driveway. As if fleeing a crime scene, I leave it all behind and run to my car. My heart is pounding, my breathing is shallow. The boys are still sleeping. Without thinking, I start the engine and hit the road. I think I am driving on autopilot, because I only regain composure down a sandy road, going under the overpass.

"Where are we?" Jacob asks sleepily.

"On a walk" I answer quickly.

"On a walk? We're in the car."

"It's a car walk," I explained. "You slept, so I decided to circle around."

Jacob looks at me as if I announced that I am going to the school disco with him.

"Aha," he murmurs.

"Call your father and tell him we'll be there in ten minutes," I ordered.

"What for?" Let's just go back.

"Call him!" I say a little too loud and too harsh, but at least it works.

Discouraged, Jacob dials the number.

"He's not answering."

"Try again."

Bastard, he must have turned off the phone so that no one would disturb them. Jacob looks at me reproachfully.

"Still nothing."

"Okay, let's go back" I've decided. "But we'll get to the supermarket first."

"Whaat? Nooo!" Michael protests.

"I have to buy... honey."

"I hate honey!" Jacob complains.

"I need it. It will take some time."

"Can't you drop us off at the house and go alone?" Jacob asks desperately.

If you don't want to see your father suckling on a strange woman's shell, then no. I quote in my mind, but I keep silent. I am already entering the main road when Jacob's phone rings.

"You talk to him." The boy tosses my cell phone to my lap.

I pick up and press the cell to my ear with my shoulder.

"Thank god! I couldn't get through, the cell went dead, and we're almost pulling up the house" I chatter as if everything was normal. Why am I so forgiving, let him explain himself!

"How's that?" I thought you said you won't be here until evening! Richard has a difficult time hiding his frustration.

"Your mother got a terrible migraine, we are just entering McHenry's." I warn the bastard politely, how idiotic of me.

"Okay!" He yells and hangs up.

Sure, there's no fucking time to waste. I will have to disinfect the countertop, and preferably the entire kitchen. I'm not sure if they spiced up their session with any kitchen utensils. Suddenly I realized that the thought of doing extra work instead of relaxing with a book in my backyard made me more angry than seeing Richard go down on Martha.

What's wrong with me? When I park in front of the garage door, my newlywed is waiting for us on the steps smiling. I can feel him watching me very closely.

"I brought the bags inside," he says, and tries to read my face.

"Thanks. Uhh right, I forgot about honey.

"I said I hate honey," Jacob complained.

He passes us and enters the house, Michael behind him.

"Everything's okay? Nothing happened?" The unfaithful spouse questions.

Normally I would give him a kiss as a reassurance, but I did not. I don't know if I'll ever touch those lips again.

Instead I say, "Everything is fine", and fake a smile, artificially and reluctantly.