Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 61

"So the question we want to put to you is," Early Tobed said, "Can we count on your cooperation in our efforts to build the hell out of this great opportunity in the coming years?"

"Of course you can," Joe replied, his eyes darting around looking for a sign of his wife.

"That's great," Wringum said, and slapped Joe on the shoulder.

"A toast, then," Carlson said holding his wine glass aloft, "To Joe Marcolina and the boom of all building booms."

"Kaboom!" Tobed yelled, somewhat drunkenly. Joe raised his glass to join in the toast and over the rim of the glass he saw the expression of Gerry Attric's face and knew his wife was under the table blowing him.

*****

God this is exquisite, Val thought, here I am, kneeling unseen before him, servicing him invisibly, almost anonymously. There's a feeling of utter submission, and yet I'm in total control.

His cock in her mouth was an iron rod in a velvet glove, so sweetly soft on the surface, so iron-hard within. She cupped his balls in her hand, ringed the base of his cock with her thumb and forefinger. He gasped when she tucked the tip of one finger into him, and she thrilled at that, and the way his sphincter tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed . . .

She was in charge, and she played with him, raising the pitch, coaxing him toward a climax and then easing off, tightening her grip on the base of his prick to choke off his orgasm before it could start. Then building again, moving toward the finish line, then backing off again only to resume once more....

Teasing the tip of his cock with her tongue, she thought that somewhere out there were women who despised doing this. Who, point blank refused to do it Yet just one generation behind her, Val knew that women seemed to regard a quick BJ as an easy way to satisfy a man, less intimate than intercourse, but not much more than a step removed from a goodnight kiss. God, if people could read my mind, they'd lock me up.

Gerry played his own part perfectly. Only gasping when she'd worked a finger into him. He kept his hands still above the table, not reaching down to stroke her hair, or hold her head in place. He thought if Marcolina had any indication of what was going on he would have killed him and Val then and there.

Now! Val thought, and let the crescendo reach the finale, and his semen spurted and she drank it down and fancied that she could feel the energy of it through her whole body all the way to her fingers and toes. She kept him in her mouth and sucked him, but gently and felt him soften and shrink, and she sipped the last drop from him and wiped him dry with her napkin and tucked him back into his pants, and zipped him up.

She couldn't have enjoyed the orgasm more if it had been her own. After a long moment she said, softly, "Is anyone looking in our direction?"

"I can't tell," Gerry whispered.

"It doesn't matter," she murmured, and reached to remove an earring. She got out from under the table, holding up the earring in triumph, and refastened it to her ear before sitting down again.

She glanced over at the table where her husband, Joe, sat staring at her and gave him a demure, but well satisfied smile. Turning to Gerry, she said, "If anyone was watching, and a certain someone was, they saw a woman who dropped an earring and managed to find it again."

"Someone has been glancing over here for the last five minutes," Gerry said nervously.

"Would I know this someone?" she inquired teasingly.

"You damn well do, Val."

"Was I down there long?"

"I didn't time you, but . . . you don't really care, do you?"

"No, I don't. I'm a rather naughty girl."

"You'll get no argument from me."

"Will you be finishing that cheesecake, Gerry?"

"No, please, help yourself." He pushed the cheesecake over to her and she picked up her fork and attacked the desert with surprising gusto for someone who had had a very tumultuous day.

"Val, I was about to tell you how to leverage yourself to withstand any rebuttal by Joe."

"Please do," she said, after swallowing a bite of cheesecake.

"Your loving husband is probably being offered the backing of those gentlemen to run for mayor in the next election. They don't like the way the incumbent is handling the rapid development since I-40 is nearly upon us. Joe gave a presentation at Carlson's. I know, you were there, but he did make a good impression, and that's why they're talking with him. Of course, he wants it more than almost anything. That's your leverage. He needs to present a united front. You know − the happy spouse, arm in arm on the campaign trail. That's where you can gouge him plenty. Promise to stay by his side . . . but only for a hefty price and complete freedom. It's a negotiation, but one which you'll win. It's a matter of figuring out how much he can afford. The freedom part is non-negotiable. Take it and run with it. Once he's elected, and he will win the office, I guarantee it, he may feel strong enough to divorce you, or if he envisions the Governor's seat a few years down the road, he may not. All you have to do is live in the same house and make token spousal appearances with him from time to time."

"Gerry, you think it will work?"

"I guaranteed it already, didn't I?"

"Yes, but . . .

"No but's. It will work. You have something he needs. They'll drop him like a hot potato if there's a hint of scandal."

"I'm going to give you another one, Gerry," she said and started to slide downward.

"No!" he said, alarmed at her actions.

"No?"

"No. I'm an old man, Val. Besides, you go down on me again and that will be more than Joe can handle. He'd have to come over here. Neither of us wants that."

"I guess you're right. Still I owe you one."

"Sounds like an old joke," he said, patting her arm affectionately. Then he signaled the waiter for the check.

Across the room, Joe was laughing at a Carlson joke. Tobed told a story that originated in the previous years ACC tournament. And that led to another. A few minutes later, Early Tobed looked up from signing the check and said, "Well, I think this was a good meeting, Joe. We'll walk away from it with a better sense of who you are, and hopefully you'll know us a little better as well."

Carlson stood up and said, "Joe, I'm going to run these bozos home, can I drop you off as well?"

"Thanks, but I've got a ride," Joe said in return. He shook everyone's hand, but was really wondering just what the hell Val was up too. As he followed the others out the door, his brow was furrowed with concern.

The Confrontation

"I'm not angry, Joe, I'm well beyond that," Val said, calmly, "but I'd sure as hell like to know the reason for it. We had an understanding. You had me fuck Gerry Attric for business purposes. You wanted to bring Wanda in for a threesome that turned into a foursome. I went along. And, other than for what you said were business reasons, I never roamed outside our marriage. Why did you?"

Joe was silent as his brain raced for the right answer. He sought not the truthful answer, but one that would essentially get him off the hook that he was caught on.

Finally, he spoke. "There's nothing to be concerned about. Let's just drop it. You got even at the restaurant when you went under the table. I won't see her again."

"Drop it? Are you kidding? I'm not dropping anything except the other shoe, baby." The scorn in her tone was unmistakable.

"Val..." he said, then paused as his stomach lurched. After a long silence, he resumed speaking. "What can I do to make up with you?"

She stood in the center of the living room, staring at him, the dark curls of her hair shone like a halo around her face, but the look she gave him was filled with hatred and scorn. And, without another word, she brushed by him and left the room, hurried up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door behind her.

He heard her door lock a second later, and head bowed, he went about making himself a bed on the living room couch.

****

The following night, Joe had an important social function at the downtown Hilton. He had spent two hours imploring Val to come with him, for Carlson would be attending, and Joe had to present a united front, or risk losing their support in his move to become the next mayor of Wilmington.

"Please, Val, you've got to at least put in an appearance. What will people think if I show up alone?"

"The way I see it," Val said, "that's you're problem... Mr. Hot-Shit Mayor to be."

"I won't be the mayor if you don't stand alongside me."

"You still have a job at the bank."

"Yes, of course," he said, "but it would mean so much more... Val; they even mentioned the possibility of becoming Governor."

"You might have thought of that before you boinked Miss Piggy in your office."

"All right, Val," he said, allowing his anger and frustration to show. "What is it you want? I know you want something. Is it jewelry? I'll buy you a diamond necklace that will wow all your friends."

"You want to know what I want?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"No, you don't."

"Come on, you know damn well I do. What is it, a new car?"

She bestowed a sliver of a smile in his direction, and Joe's blood ran cold.

"I want my freedom."

"You want your freedom ... but you have it."

"I want my freedom to do whatever the hell I please with this marriage."

"I've never stood in your way in that regard, Val. I don't understand...."

"I want freedom to be with anyone I choose. I want the finances to do what I choose to do, and with anyone I want to do it with. That means no interference on your part."

"I still don't under...."

"The fuck you don't you bastard! You want ME to smile and pretend we're a happily married couple. Well, I WANT you to pay for that privilege. I want . . ." she paused, and then plucked a figure out of the air, "twenty thousand dollars a month as an allowance. I want a new car, an expensive car, and I'll pick it out. I'll tolerate no interference from you with regard to who, or whom I spend my time with. And lastly, you sleep in the guest room. I'll keep the master bedroom for myself."

"Val," he said, beginning a protest; but she cut him off, saying, "And no women in this house! Absolutely none!"

It took Joe an hour of negotiating to get Val to accept a $10,000 monthly allowance in addition to the normal funds required to raise their daughter, Caroline, purchase her own clothing, and run the household. He conceded the car, and agreed to her right to privacy. He thought another minute and agreed to sleep in the guest bedroom, unless they had important guests overnight. In that event, he would pretend to sleep in the master bedroom with Val, but would actually use the room next to it.

Val was thrilled at his concessions, and as she dressed alone in her bedroom/dressing room she placed phone calls to both Wanda and Gerry, telling them of her victory.

"And what will you do with this new found wealth?" Gerry inquired.

"Spend most of it having fun," she replied.

"And, what kind of fun did you have in mind?"

"Nasty stuff, Gerry, down right filthy, as nasty as I can manage."

"Well, please let me know if I can be of service to you in that regard. I've been known to get down and dirty from time to time."

Val laughed and said, "I was counting on you to say something like that."

"Well, I mean it."

"I'll be in touch then. And, Gerry, thank you so very much for your advice."

"After what you did under the table, I got the bargain, not you, kiddo."

"Good night, Gerry. I'm going to some affair at the Hilton with his honor, the next mayor."

"I expect your right about that too, my dear. I won't be there, but I'll be thinking of you. Good night, sweetie."