Satisfaction Pt. 03: Ch. 10 to 13

Things got complicated from there on. Combinations of two, three and four avid sex seekers latched onto each other and anyone free videoed or photographed the scene in front of them. The only hold out was Mo, who put his head in the door and said, "This is wrong. Good night." And left. I missed having him. I suspect from the way moved on the dance floor he would be a wonderful fuck buddy.

I ended up with Josh. He was a passionate lover who knew restraint and understood the arousal of delay and teasing my body. He had me screaming before we had finished. Thirty years of abstinence was sublimated into hours of remarkable passion and one long sustained orgasm. Strangely at the end, I knew that was enough for the next twenty years.

At five the next morning, Josh drove me to motel. I had time to shower and dress and pack before falling asleep on the bed. My fellow travelers woke me pounding on the door at eight-thirty. One of the more alive women looked at me and said, "Heavy night?" She then grinned.

Later in the day, when I was looking in my purse for money, I found that my carefully ordered arrangement was totally shaken up -- everything was just dumped into the bottom of the purse whereas I had a pocket for each item. As I searched, I found that the only thing missing was my contact list in case of an accident or emergency -- they knew exactly where I worked, my father, my best friend -- everything.

* * * * *

"Have you read it?" Andrea said anxiously "What do you think? Am I in trouble?"

"I was a little surprised. I thought you'd been raped. Naturally, I didn't press you for details. I thought writing it down might be less traumatic."

"Raped. No, I wasn't raped. At first, I was worried about whether I would be allowed to leave but they didn't even try to keep me at the farmhouse. There was no force other than alcohol. It was like going along with a crowd like I am used to in high school."

"Could you have been drugged?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so."

"Sit down, Peter. I'm so sorry to have mislead you, sweetie. It was unintentional. I can see how using the colloquial 'gang bang' could be misinterpreted. You are my oldest friend and I love you in a special way. You are like a father to me -- the good father I never had."

"There is much you do not know about me. I have never told you. First off, my father was a martinet. He ruled the house with an iron fist. My mother and I did what we were told. We were hyper religious -- he was the bishop's financial advisor. Our Sundays were spent at church. I went to a Catholic girls' school. I tried to rebel. Maybe rolling up my skirt one roll, but I was too nervous to try anything serious. I was scared of the nuns and my father. That's how I became good at running. It was my release and my savior." Andrea paused, went to the kitchen and came backing sipping a glass of water.

"I was good at art. My father dismissed it. When I received a running scholarship, with the support of my mother -- the only time she really dug her heels in -- elected to major in art history. Once away from home, initially I ran and ran, spending most of my time training at the indoor and outdoor tracks. I avoided alcohol and drugs, but I found sex. I was fit and had all the urges a young woman normally had. I was not worried about getting pregnant because I was on the pill for stomach cramps. Still am."

"I lost my virginity in the second week at university and had a string of lovers for the next two years. I am probably a lot less innocent than you have thought. I was in full rebellion. Then I met Hugh at the beginning of my final year. He was also an athlete. He was beautiful, gentle, loving, strong, and compassionate. I opened up to him in a way I had never felt before. We fell in love and became a couple but continued to live apart."

"One night I was feeling so horny I phoned him about five times to get him to come over. Although he was studying for an important mid-term exam he eventually gave way to my insistence. He drove his motorcycle into the back of a stationary truck in the middle of a rainstorm. He survived six months in a coma before they pulled the plug on him. His family never knew nor could understand why he was out that night. I knew."

Andrea sat silently looking at her feet for a good two minutes. Peter remained quiet taking in Andrea's story that made sense of a lot of how she had behaved over the years he had known her.

"I became celibate. I ran harder but never got beyond the Olympic trails. My mother died and my father collapsed into a shell of what he had been before. I went on to teacher's college. I finally grew up and found myself asexual -- I no longer had any need for sex. Hugh's death had created a psychological wall concerning sex.

Although I did enjoy being looked over by you guys. It was a sort of power thing, I think. I enjoyed my own company. I made a whole new raft of just female friends. They knew as much of my background as you do - did. I am regarded as a safe teacher. I came to love my students -- a sort of transference, I realize. I still love my students, but not in a sexual way."

"New Zealand was an aberration. Possibly a liberation. I was, once more, the rebellious freshman at college -- for a night. Can you understand that? Far from home, with strangers. A rebellion against my loving detachment. I just don't want it to take my life away from me. We'll just have to see." Andrea sighed. "Please go. We'll talk again next week. If you want to. Peter, I do love you in my own way."

Peter rose. He stroked the top of Andrea's head, hugged her and left.

* * * * *

Neither Peter nor Andrea called in the next week. Nor the week following. There was an awkwardness in their separation that neither could surmount. The weeks stretched into months and then a year. This was not unprecedented. Over the fifteen years they had known each other there had been periods of over two years without contact. Life's events overtook both of them and their friendship had no urgency to it.

Peter was alone at home one evening sorting through some papers when he came across Andrea's document. Without thinking he picked up the phone and called her immediately. He was feeling lonely. It had fifteen months since they last spoke.

"Andrea?"

Before he had a chance to announce himself, "Peter. How are you? Good to hear from. How's your health these days?" The words tumbled out. Andrea was always able to recognize Peter's voice within a millisecond of him speaking without the benefit of call display.

"I'm doing just fine, thank you for asking. And you? How are your classes?" Peter wanted to establish immediately what the situation was regard to Andrea's teaching.

"Oh, the kids are great, as usual." She never had a bad word about her students, only the administration and the school board. Of course, they've changed the curriculum requirements again." Her voice tapered off. "What have you been doing?"

"I am back painting."

"Still doing portraits?" Peter had painted Andrea's portrait one summer a few years back. "Back from what, by the way?"

"Oh. Jill died about nine months ago. She contracted an aggressive form of bladder cancer. Refused chemo. It was quite quick, thank goodness." Peter's voice choked up for a moment, but he quickly regained control. Andrea felt her stomach sink.

"Oh. Peter, I did not know. I am so sorry. My deepest condolences. You were married what forty years? You didn't call me." The truncated statements with their pauses between came out of Andrea's surprise and shock.

"No. I didn't call many people. It was mostly family. Strangely I am pretty well through the grief now and picking up the threads of my life. I've started painting again, taken up tai chi and I am trying my hand at writing my autobiography -- well, the bits I am ready to tell. I've learned to use the washer and dryer, and I iron. I also cook for myself a bit. I am awaiting to hear your applause!"

Andrea was not quite sure to handle all the information she had just been given. Bravely she managed a "Bravo! Can you come over and help me too?' The mood quickly lightened as they started bantering back and forth about domestic issues.

Peter became serious. "So, nothing happened?"

Andrea knew exactly what Peter was talking about. "Blessedly, no."

"That's so good. Tell me about it."

"In addition to the written document I did see a doctor as you suggested and there were no complications. As the weeks rolled by and I was back into the teaching routine the sense of dread slowly drifted away. I hardly ever think about it anymore. Although I never did look at the thumb drive, I have kept it - in a very safe place."

"I'd say you are home free. I cannot think after over a year that will resurface. Why not just dump the thumb drive -- run a drill through it?"

"You're right. I am sure it's over. Yet the thumb drive remains a salutary reminder to me of my moments of silliness." As she said this, she knew she was being a lot less than honest. The small memory stick was a mysterious icon of a glorious, reckless and one of the most memorable evenings in her life.

"Have you ever wanted to look at it?" Peter probed.

"Every week, Peter. It is like a magnet. I have a love/hate relationship with it. I even loaded it once, and then ejected it again."

"Don't you think that by seeing it you may purge the whole event?"

"You may be right, but if I'm honest my real concern is that the images may reignite an itch I should never scratch again."

"That's unlikely." As the words came out of his mouth, he knew he was blowing smoke. He also realized that he was excited and quietly aroused by the idea of Andrea getting turned on by what may be on the video.

He then became even more self-serving. "Surely a reliving of something that happened sixteen months ago and is in your past won't turn the clock back?"

Andrea was suddenly uncertain. Her trusted friend, whose advice had been invaluable to her over the years was suggesting she look her demon in the face. She prevaricated, "Do you really think it would help to see it? Really?"

"That's your decision Andrea but think about it. The possibility of torment is now next to nothing. Think of it as a holiday video -- a romp on the beach, or a trip to the Hermitage. Anyway, your decision."

An idea flashed into Andrea's head. "Would you look at it for me?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to pull them back. She was giving license to her older male friend to watch her having an orgy. She was unsure of this since she had always kept any suggestion of a physical relationship with Peter at a long arm's length. On the other hand, she tried to rationalize to herself, he was now a widower and his wife was taken out of the equation.

The Catholic guilt of adultery was always a component of the distance she had maintained from Peter, notwithstanding she would not have been the person guilty of the sin. She thought, "please, please turn my offer down". She sent her strongest willing down the telephone wires.

"That's a good idea. I can vet it for you and advise you if you should look at it. Pretty well as I did for the document." Peter's arousal jumped up a notch. He suddenly felt better than he had for years.

He was quickly on to closing the deal, "I'll be over for it tomorrow evening after school -- say seven o'clock."

Andrea's heart sank. "OK. Seven it is." She knew he was always punctual.

"Peter, I have to go now. I have some grading to do for tomorrow morning. See you at seven."

Peter's blood pressure rose, and he felt excited. Andrea felt sick, "Shit. Shit. Shit." She thought she could change her mind, but maybe Peter was right. She had downplayed her ongoing anxiety, and maybe this would relieve the concern of the arrival of a revelation out of the blue. She would be seen naked by her long-time friend. Would Peter now think of her as a slut? Would his opinion of her diminish?

Andrea did a bit of grading but was stopped by the debate raging back and forth in her conflicted mind. Eventually a hot bath and a Tylenol helped her to calm down and go to sleep.

As usual Peter was punctual. Andrea hugged Peter and gave him a pot of azaleas she had sitting on a side table in the hallway. "I'm so sorry about Jill."

Peter produced an almost identical pot of azaleas from behind his back. "For a hard-working teacher." They both burst out laughing quite in excess of the coincidence of their mutual gifts. Up to that moment Andrea was still uncertain as to whether she would pass over the thumb drive. Somehow the laughter of release breached her doubt and she brought the envelope containing the drive out from her pocket and passed it to Peter.

"Keep it safe. For your eyes only. Excuse me rushing you, Peter, but I did not finish the grading last night, worrying about this. I must go. I'm right behind the eight ball." Peter did not advance beyond the front hall. He well knew of Andrea's single-minded dedication to her teaching and students. He left a bit confused about the summary dismissal but was also full of anticipation about what he had in his hand.

Peter placed the envelope on the table. He brewed himself an herbal tea and looked at the small artifact that held so much promise and possibly pain. He savored the anticipation of the voyeuristic experience he was about to get, thereby increasing its value to him. He had trouble drinking the tea as his hand shook so much. He had to bring his mouth down to the cup on the table for the first few sips.

He then moved swiftly to insert the drive into the USB port. It was wrapped in a piece of paper that gave Josh's contact details. The loading seemed to take forever. Peter paced around his study as it loaded. There were three files on the drive, a file named simply "Movie preamble see first --NZ-2014"; another large file "Movie --NZ -2014'" and the other was "Selected stills -- NZ-2014". Peter was conflicted as to which he should view first, but eventually settled on the still shots.

As Peter pulled up the file onto the screen he was surprised to see only about a dozen shots. He was expecting more. They were all showing Andrea as far as he could see from the thumbnails. As he drew them up to fill the screen, he realized they were all art shots. The composition of the shots was very skilled, and Peter soon saw that none of them had either Andrea's face or the second person's, where there was a second person. They had been cropped and rotated to give a dynamic image in every case. There were tits and genitals to be seen for sure, and it was clear from the body type which were Andrea's, but there was no shot that allowed her identification.

Peter weighed this revelation and found it to be generous. If the video was the same Andrea was in the clear. Josh had taken great care in preparing this portfolio. Only after this analytical assessment had resolved itself, did Peter look at Andrea's and the other's bodies. He found himself surprisingly unmoved by them. All the life classes he had taken came back to him. The conjoining of the bodies seemed remote and without eroticism. Peter felt like weeping although no tears came. His life was at a point whereby the anticipation of the arousal was stronger than the stimulus itself. He asked himself if he was now dead inside. No answer came to him.

Peter looked at the preamble next. At the beginning Josh was seen sitting on a deck in a garden wearing khaki shorts and a green rugby shirt looking directly into the camera. He addressed the camera with quite a thick New Zealand accent. Peter noticed he was a good-looking lad and could see why Andrea would have found him attractive. The movie was more enlightening in one regard: it explained what he had seen.

"Andrea this is for you. I have spent much of the last seventeen hours editing alone all the tape and photos that were taken on 4^th July at our house. I used pretty sophisticated software lent to me by a friend who worked on the Lord of The Rings. He did not see any of it -- he's away in Europe. I've used the software before, so I was able to work with it effectively. Andrea, I have eliminated all reference to you in all the shots, including both your voice and your face. I have destroyed the source material, including tapes and flashcards from the still camera. I have kept your magnificent body though. Let me tell you putting this together has been a grand pleasure. The others, except Mo who had no interest, have seen it and liked what I did. Phil showed some disappointment because he wanted me to make this pornographic and paste it on the Internet. He was persuaded not to go down that path. The others were quite content. I hope you enjoy this."

There was a pause. "Just in case you are worrying I burned your contact sheet and it was not copied. I scrubbed all trace of my work from my friend's computer. I also suggest you may wish to erase and scrub this preamble so the other two files may never be readily linked to you. Enjoy the video. It lasts about fifteen minutes."

Peter was very impressed with Josh and his understanding of what had happened. Peter knew Andrea was totally in the clear. Josh had a lot of class. Peter then settled down to watch the movie itself.

Peter's reaction was only marginally more intense than to the still shots. He felt detached. He was saddened. His libido had never been at a lower ebb in the face of what he would have found masturbation material when he was even a few years younger. Peter felt more than old: ancient, empty. Peter went to bed, curled into a ball and slowly drifted into sleep.

Peter emailed Andrea: "Can I come over this evening. It's important. He consciously avoided giving any hint of what he had found. A reply came back quickly, "Yes. See you at seven."

Peter copied the video and photos onto a spare thumb drive he had and renamed the files O1 and O2 -- thinking "O" for orgy. Peter then busied himself with other matters all day to keep his mind off his own inadequacies rather than the content of what he had seen.

Andrea's face was grim when she answered to door for Peter. Peter gave a cheery, "Hard day?"

Andrea was in no mood for humor. She snapped, "What do you have for me? I could hardly concentrate all day. I feigned sickness to miss a staff meeting. I could not face them all. Please put me out of my distress."

"Bottom line -- you're in the clear." Andrea's head fell to her chest and her shoulders curled in as her hands came up to her face. She started sobbing.

Peter closed into her and wrapped his arms around her back, the top of head on his chest. He stayed like this for a couple of minutes as she continued to sob. Peter gently caressed her back up and down, remembering the time he had attempted to run his hand up her back and under her sweater. Andrea had given him a tongue lashing. But she was content this time as he comforted her, staying outside of her sweater.

Andrea straightened and pecked Peter on the lips. It was a first. She reached for a box of tissues, blew her nose, wiped her eyes and smiled, "You must think me silly."

"Not at all. I can understand the relief." There was silence for a full minute as they looked at each other in the eye. Andrea was the first to pull away. "Tell me."

"There are three files. You only need see one. It's Josh explaining the situation."

"What about the others? What's on them?"

"The orgy -- there is no other way of putting it. One has still shots, and the other is a video. Josh did a good job of eliminating your face from all of the shots. He is also artistic. Someone could identify you from your mole patterns though." Peter tried to lighten the conversation.

"Could they really?" Andrea paused horrified for a moment but smiled as she realized Peter was making a joke.