Pier Pressure

Pier Pressure

Early Fall

My home is empty, dark and depressing. I am Janey Woodhall. I celebrated my 49th birthday last August. My kids are yuppies who are doing well in their careers. I am a chemistry teacher at the local high school. My husband Bob is an independent business consultant, who saves formerly profitable organizations that are experiencing difficult times. His consultancy is very successful, and my salary is steady. He is in Atlanta this week working on his specialty, a manufacturer who is still profitable, but is losing sales. We had hoped to have fun this weekend, but if you're independent, you can't turn down contracts. Our marriage is great. He is a considerate lover, and I jump at the opportunity. We have a house in an upscale neighborhood in a St. Paul suburb. We also have a house at one of the Minnesota lakes about an hour and a half away.

It is the Thursday of the first weekend of autumn. The weather is unseasonably cold. It will dip below freezing tonight, and barely get out of the thirties tomorrow. I have decided to go to the lake house tomorrow. It will probably reach the sixties on Saturday, and I need a change. The lake house pool has a heater, so the sixties are sufficient for swimming.

The lake has brightened my outlook. Thursday's freeze has put some color in the trees. Saturday, after an invigorating swim, I walked along the shore to leaf peep. Teddy VanDyke was doing the same. Teddy is a rich young man who is his father's assistant in the family business. People think he lives only by the luck of his birth. But he convinced his father to let him make some small eccentric changes. These alterations didn't seem like much, but in the first year revenue increased by one percent. As the workers became comfortable with his ideas, revenues increased by five and then ten percent. Teddy is however happy to have you think he lives on nepotism.

Teddy and his wife Belle, both in their late twenties, had just celebrated their first anniversary. He invited me to join them on his yacht this evening for a barbecue. I baked an offering for the dinner. Then I called my husband, asked about his contract, and told him of my evening's activity. Our lake cul-de-sac has eight houses. Only three were occupied this weekend, because of the weather. The owner of the third, Jimmy Leary, was the other guest.

When we bought the lake house, three years ago, we met Jimmy at our first community barbecue. His first words to Bob:

"Your wife is beautiful. If you don't mind, I will take her home and love her. My bedroom has windows on the lake."

"Why shouldn't I do the same. We also have windows. Why do you think you will be better than me?"

"Everyone thinks women want better. What I can give is different."

He turned to me.

"Have you ever been loved from the rear while chained to the ceiling?"

Back to my husband.

"I will be having breakfast tomorrow at 10 at the town diner. If you can look me in the eye and truthfully say, "I made love to her last night and didn't think of chains," I will give you $50, and buy your breakfast."

Jimmy then went off to challenge another couple.

We had been warned about Jimmy, so our conversation was not confrontational. His first conversation with any new woman at the lake is a proposition. He memorized the Kama Sutra, so the ceiling position was just for me. Every woman has a new position. My husband grumbled:

"Damn, his $50 is safe. I would have loved to take his money."

Jimmy is a project manager for a security firm. He deals with everything from tornadoes to riots. If the atomic bomb didn't land within twenty miles, and Jimmy directed the job, you would be fine. The only computer security he does is keeping pornography out of the workplace. Others in his firm deal with hackers.

The steering on the VanDyke yacht is on the top deck. The lower deck has 2 bedrooms, each with its own head. Surprisingly, you cannot walk from one to the other. There are two separate entrances to the lower deck.

Jimmy had brought several bottles of Sancerre for the barbecue. I baked some sugar cookies. Sancerre is his favorite white wine. He discovered it while touring the Loire valley. He said that he read that all wines had the same alcohol content, but Sancerre seemed stronger. I think red wine is a bitter drink, but I love whites.

I don't know where Teddy gets his steaks, but they were tenderer than any I can find. Jimmy was right, I loved the Sancerre. But after 3 glasses, I was buzzed. I usually can take four glasses of white.

A warmer wind had made it comfortable on deck with just a sweater. The yacht was anchored in the middle of the lake. Being away from the city lights gave us an idea why the night sky was so fascinating for early civilizations. Jimmy is a great conversationalist. He was elucidating on how different populations had different meanings for the constellations. After a while, Teddy and Belle left the deck for the master bedroom.

Jimmy told me three versions of the constellation, Cassiopeia. Then he made up his own that was definitely soft porn. Somehow he had gotten his arm around me and I didn't notice until he kissed me on the neck.

"Please stop, I don't want to explain a hickey to my husband."

"Then I will have to kiss you on the lips."

The kiss lasted longer than it should have before I started to demure.

"I know, you're married. We will keep it above the belt. Just high school."

I should have pushed him away, but instead I was sitting in his lap. When his hand caressed my breast, he again murmured "Just high school." I let him continue. A half hour later, a sudden squall came up, and before we noticed, we were drenched.

We didn't want to interrupt Teddy and Belle. We went to the second bedroom to get out of the rain. Jimmy grabbed a bath towel from the head and started patting me dry.

"You need to get off the wet things."

He took my sweater, then started to unbutton my blouse. My halfhearted objection was met with a kiss, and we continued what the squall interrupted. This time we were on a bed. He removed my bra murmuring, "high school, above the waist." I couldn't think, and found myself on my back. His hands were no longer above my belt.

"Your thighs are exquisite. I must caress your femininity."

My pantries were soaked, not from the rain.

"We have to get those off, you'll get chafed."

I always considered myself a soft feminist. Who was the submissive in my body? Somehow it seemed proper in the heat of the moment. I raised my hips. He removed my pantries and spread my legs.

"Kiss me, we will just do what you want."

As I kissed him, he entered me. He was not bigger than my husband, but it felt different. I responded harder and more often than in married sex. I have no idea whether he did something different, or just that it was forbidden.

When the rain stopped and we returned to the deck, he gave me another glass of Sancerre. I drank it too fast and took one myself. I sipped that one. The VanDykes had already docked the yacht. We thanked them for the delightful dinner.

Jimmy led me to the pier. After the wine, squall and etc., I needed leading. We went to his house, not mine. I was past objecting. While he was stripping me:

"You told me we would do what I wanted. I never said that I wanted sex."

"One set of lips kissed me, the other certainly wanted it."

I thought he would take me to bed, but he took me to the bathroom instead. It had the a tub with more water sources than I had ever imagined. Water at a perfect temperature was coming from every direction. No man had bathed me since I was two. His hands were everywhere. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my feelings. When I opened them, he had taken a razor to my bush.

"Let me finish, you can't explain half done. You will say you did it for Bob. I am going to explore your femininity completely. Nothing will block my eyes, hands or anything else."

He had a machine that dried me with warm air. The towel with which he finished my most sensitive zones almost reversed the drying. He carried me to a huge round bed. I spread myself for his inspection. My husband had never explored me that intimately. He put a soft blindfold over my eyes.

"Vision takes three quarters of your brain. You will want to use more of your mind to feel. Tell me everything you desire."

He followed my instructions and had me in ecstasy. I reached for his rod.

"It's better with your left hand."

I pulled him in with my left hand. After our completion:

"Why is better with the left?"

"I wanted to have you take me in with your wedding ring."

"You bastard, you make me feel so dirty."

"That shows we did it right."

At that time, it seemed funny, but I was so tired, I could no longer think. I was asleep in three minutes. He woke me Sunday morning by entering me. My husband would never take me without my conscious agreement. Jimmy made his own rules. He was right about the windows. There were mirrors in the bedroom, not to observe the sex, but to see the lake while having sex. Ecstasy for both the eyes and body.

Jimmy had taken the bus to the lake. Sometime while we were connected, but not moving, I offered to drive him back to St. Paul. The lake must have a special ability to cloud your mind.

It wasn't until we hit the highway that the guilt hit. I had betrayed the man I loved most; the man who had loved me exclusively for more than twenty five years. I tried to blame it on Jimmy, but he had not betrayed a vow. I wanted to blame the Sancerre, but no one made me drink it. I was not a pleasant companion on the hour and a half drive.

"Jimmy, I am going to take you directly to your house. I never want you in mine. We are never to communicate in any way in St. Paul. No phone, e-mail, telegraph, anything."

Then the fear hit.

"My husband must never find out about us."

"You know my procedure. I proposition every woman I meet. You have never heard that I have succeeded. You are not my first success. That's all I will tell you or any other woman I get to know. I tell men nothing. I know my batting average. It is not 1.000, but it is good enough, and it is a little better today than it was last week. No one else will ever know it. The only way your husband will find out is, if you want to ruin your marriage with honesty. Now I have a question. What will happen the next time we meet at the lake when your husband is working?"

"I am pretty sure I will be a faithful wife from now on."

My confidence was shaken when I saw Jimmy's leer.

"Pretty is the key word, Beautiful!"