Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 50byParis Waterman©
After learning that Jon was paying little attention to Bernie, and that she had resorted to fucking the lawn-boy, Joe had decided a frontal attack would make her his, and had rung the bell to her home around eleven one morning.
"Why, Joe Marcolina, as I live and breathe," Bernie had gushed, pleased as punch to see Val's husband at her front door. She absently ran a hand through her hair, hoping it was in place and that she didn't look like Medusa. "Um, Jon's at the office, Joe. He...."
"I came to see you, Bernie," he said, giving her body such a slow once over that it kick started the furnace in her loins.
"Well, come in," she said with a wry smile. "Let's not let the neighbors start all sorts of rumors," she said giddily, as she realized she was feeling very horny.
Joe ambled into the living room and sat down in what had to be Jon's easy chair."You know, Bernie, I've had a yearning kind of crush on you for a long time."
"Really?" Bernie replied as she sat down in a chair across from him. "And what does Val think about that?"
"I haven't told her about it, Bernie." He stared at her and she felt the heat rising internally. "Remember that afternoon Val set us up with each other?"
Her throat had gone dry, she desperately wanted a drink, mentally cursed herself for not having offered to make them drinks. "I remember it well, Joe. But you're married to Val and she's my best friend."
To herself, Bernie thought, That fucking Robbie didn't show yesterday and I needed him. Now I'm in a fix. She looked at Joe, and knew why he was there. How did he know she would respond to him and not just pick up the phone and call Val?"
"It can remain that way, Bernie. In fact I want it to remain that way, regardless of what happens this afternoon."
"Nothings going to happen, Joe."
"I think it will."
Flustered, Bernie said quickly, "So what about coffee, Joe?" She began a nervous laugh, then blanched as it turned into a rasping cough.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes .. Yes, I'm fine. Probably the polen in the air."
"Yes, the damn stuff is everywhere this time of the year."
"So, would you care for some coffee? I've got fresh, just made it in fact."
"That'd be fine. I like it black."
Bernie got up and moved to the kitchen, catching herself wiggling her butt as she walked away.
What the fuck am I doing? She asked herself, and then smiled when she felt his eyes on her. We're going to do it, she realized, and I'm leading him on, knowing it will end in the bedroom. Or maybe the kitchen table, she concluded as she poured coffee into two cups out of his sight in the narrow kitchen.
Bernie debated about taking her panties off then, or waiting for him to do it later. Giggling delightedly at her depraved thoughts, she took them off, and tossed them into the sink.
She returned to the living room with the coffee, handed him his cup and sat down across from him and crossed her legs. Did he see my pussy? she wondered. Like Sharon Stone in that murder movie with Mike Douglas? For the life of her, she couldn't recall the name of the movie.
Joe sipped at his coffee, but kept his eyes riveted to hers. "I've been bored lately," he told her. "I have a feeling that you are too. Would there be any truth to that?"
Bernie shifted nervously in her chair. "Hardly. You know I'm a happily married woman, Joe. I thought you and Val were as well."
"We were. We're not right now. At least I'm not."
They were silent for a while, then he said, "This is a pretty nice place you and Jon have, Bernie."
"Yeah, I like it," she said as she gestured around the room.
They were quiet again.
"So, you going to kick me out?" he asked with a grin. She waited a long moment before answering him. "No, I'm not," she said softly.
"So, you are bored," he said, his eyes refusing to break contact with hers. "No, I'm not," she said softly, repeating her last words..
Joe rose from his chair and moved to her. He leaned down to her and kissed her roughly on the mouth. The moment she parted her lips his tongue rammed its way inside.
"Fu," she tried to say, but couldn't get the word or words out. Bernie inhaled through her nostrils just as he released her. She took another breath through her mouth and moaned, "Oh, my fucking God!"
Clearly Bernie liked what he was doing. He held her tightly with his right arm, hugging her closely. His left worked softly, but urgently between her legs.
"I see you're not wearing any," he said.
"Took 'em off in the kitchen."
"No, I'm not."
"That's a matter of opinion."
"I guess," she said, and left it at that as he sent a finger into her wetness.
She reached out and placed her hand against the back of his head, and said hungrily, "I've really had a crush on you since forever. Do you understand?"
She didn't have an expression on her face.
"Open your legs a little more for me."
It took him a minute, probably several, but then he was fisting her. He had never fisted a woman before. But there was something about Bernie that suggested she was capable of absorbing his fist, and that she would like it.
She aided him each time he met resistence, even calling a brief halt in order to go into her bedroom for a tube of K.Y. Jelly to make the going easier.
Soon he was kissing her and fisting her, his hand inside her cunt to the wrist bone while she squirmed around like a big fish on a hook.
She came with a loud grunt, and he worked his hand out of her. Bernie let a few seconds pass, before prying his cock out of his trousers and falling upon it with a loud, wet smacking sound. She didn't know why she made that sound. She was nervous, there was that to consider. She had just had a fantastic orgasm; even better than with Robbie, her pet stud-bull. She recalled that she always made such noises when she gave head. It embarrassed her to some extent, as if somehow it was unfeminine to have that much saliva. But nevertheless it excited her, and she would later learn that it also excited Joe. And, she told herself, There was nothing embarrassing about having Joe's formidable penis in her mouth though. Not at all.
She traced a hand down Joe's chest, he tensed up, jerked a little bit as he listened to the wet, slurping noises coming from between his thighs. He glanced down just as she spat a gob of salivia on the knob of his cock and followed up by taking most of his length down her throat.
Impressive, he thought, as Bernie adjusted her hair to keep it out of her mouth. She stopped sucking for a moment, and looked up at him. Joe's eyes were rolled up in his head. She returned to her work, picking up the pace, smiling slightly as she felt him start to swell in her mouth. She tipped her head back and pulled away, then nodded forward, swallowing most of him.
With the first spurt of his ejaculate, she yanked him from her mouth, and jerked him off furiously, taking great joy in watching jet after jet explode from the eye of his thick monster only to land on her chin and breasts.
"Bernie?" Joe said weakly.
"I really wanted to fuck you."
"Want me to get you hard again?"
"Yeah, but, see, I really have to get back to the office. I have a meeting that I can't miss."
"Oh." Her disappointment was painfully obvious.
"Look, Bernie, we can meet again."
"I work at Bronstrom's, it's a law office. But only Tuesday through Friday."
"What time to you get off?"
"Depends. Some days early, some not."
"Give me the number."
"You can count on it. I'm arranging for an apartment by the river. When its set I'll give you the address and a key."
"You will call?"
"Yes, I will definitely call you. We have a lot of exploring to do."
"Yeah, we do. I'm particularly interested in that North Pole of yours," she said as they both broke into a fit of laughter.
One week later.
"Val? It's Janet. Janet Fitzgerald."
"Hi, Janet, what's up?"
"I don't know where to turn, Val. It's fucking crazy... everything's gone crazy."
"Hold on a second, Janet. I'm trying to put this shoe on and it's giving me trouble."
"There! I got it. Now what's this about going crazy?"
"I got these... oh, my God..." Janet began to sob.
"Try to compose yourself, Jan. Start from the beginning. You have my undivided attention," Val promised, hoping that Janet wasn't too drunk to make sense.
"Yes... I'll try, Val. Thanks."
"Take a deep breath, Janet."
"Okay. Okay. I... I got this envelope in the mail this morning and...."
"Go on, Hon," Val said soothingly.
"There were pictures...."
"Yeah ... of my Nick and this ... real estate broker, Harrison something."
"Yeah, that's the one. They were in like a motel and...."
"Go on," Val said, urging her to finish the sentence, knowing it was going to be bad.
"The broker had his dick up Nick's ass, and I...."
"What do I do, Val?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know."
"Do you still care for Nick?"
"Um, yes ... no ... maybe. I don't know. I'm all fucked up."
"Have you been drinking a lot?"
"No, surprisingly not. One glass of wine, but I had it poured when the envelope arrived."
"Good," Val said, more to herself than to Janet.
"Who sent the envelope?" Val asked.
"I've no idea. It came ... it was on the doormat by the front door when I went for the mail."
"Someone took pains to tell you about this," Val said. "Someone wants to hurt you. Maybe they're out to get Nick. And someone took the picture."
"Pictures," Janet said. "There were four of them."
"Were the others similar?"
"One shows them... oh, God, I can't talk about them."
"Why don't I come over to your place, Janet?"
"Of course I would. I'm leaving now. I'll see you in about fifteen minutes."
Val arrived at Janet's to find her pacing the floor with a strong bourbon in her hand, but was vastly relieved to find that she hadn't gotten drunk while Val was driving over.
"Let me see the pictures," Val said, and for the first time wondered if she'd made a mistake in calling Joe and telling him. But the news had shocked her and she'd had to tell someone. She was confident that he could keep a secret, probably better than she could herself.
Janet produced the pictures and Val quickly saw that Janet had not been exaggerating about their content.
"Jesus..." Val said after examing them for a second time. "You think..."
"What?" Janet asked, hopefully.
"Oh, no, nothing like that," Val responded. "I was... I was thinking that from the way these were taken that...."
"What? Come on Val, this is serious shit."
"Well, it seems to me that someone else was in the room with them. Someone else took the pictures. They weren't taken from outside, you can tell. But why would they...."
"An orgy or sorts... yes, that's possible. It would mean that there were at least three people in the room, possibly more. Maybe the others were women. Maybe these are gag pictures, you know... I mean, okay it's adultery of course, but if they were fucking around and deliberately posed like queers for laughs...."
"I don't think so, Val. He... Nick hasn't touched me in weeks."
"That doesn't mean anything, Janet. My Joe has been remiss in paying me attention lately too. But I know with him its work that tires him out."
"So you're telling me he's tired from all the work he's putting in?"
"No, I'm not. I'd like to be able to tell you that. But the pictures tell a different story."
"Should I confront him?"
"I don't know. Would you like me to call a friend? I won't mention your name, but will tell her what we have. I'll ask her for her opinion. She's been around. She knows how to deal with all kinds of situations."
"I don't know, Val. I mean, that would be another person who knows. Someone will talk. It's inevitable."
"You don't know who else may have gotten copies of the pictures, Janet. You have to take some kind of action. You could call an attorney and ask them."
"No, not yet. I'll talk to Nick first. But, okay, call your friend. See what she has to say."
Val picked up the phone and dialed Wanda's private number.
"Hi, it's me."
"Why so secretive?"
"I'm with a friend."
"Oh... and you're calling me?"
"There's a big problem. I really need your view on the situation."
Val told Wanda the story, and when she'd finished she stopped talking and gave Wanda time to think.
"Does she love him?"
"Possibly, but this has certainly shaken her. Possibly irrevocably."
"My, such a big word, Val."
"Come on, don't go bitchy on me," Val said.
"I'm not, Val. Please don't mention my name by the way."
"I won't, and I haven't.
"Good. Well, in my humble opinion, she can do either of two things. If she truly loves the guy, she can confront him with the evidence and hope he'll come clean. It's possible that with some counseling he'll revert back to his old, lovable self. Or, she can call a private investigator; have him follow the guy for a day or two and gather enough evidence to get a quick and clean divorce, taking him for everything he's got. That way she can start over again. It's going to be painful, very painful either way."
"Thanks..." Val almost said Wanda's name, but caught herself, and only said, "Thanks very much. I'll tell her what you had to say," and she hung up the phone.
Turning to Janet, Val said, "Her advice is to do one of two things. If you want to try to salvage the marriage, confront him with the evidence and hope he'll come clean. This way you can try some counseling, and hopefully save the marriage. Failing that, hire a private investigator; have him follow Nick around a day or two to obtain sufficient evidence to get a divorce. That route will get you plenty in a settlement."
"Thanks Val. I really mean it." She began to cry, and spilled some of her drink, which she hadn't touched.
"I thought I loved him... but after seeing these..." she pointed at the pictures... "I really don't know."
"Confront him," Val said with a determination that surprised her. "You can always get a divorce. But if someone else has received these pictures his future is in ruins. Everyone he needs to keep his business going will consider him a risk, and they will avoid doing business with him. Word will spread. He'll be finished in Wilmington. In North Carolina for that matter."
"I... I will... when he comes home I'll throw these at him," she said gesturing top the photographs on the coffee table.
"Let me know how things go, regardless of what happens. Maybe I can get Joe to intervene."
"No, don't tell your husband. I don't think he's fond of Nick...."
"All right, I won't say a word to him," Val said, and after giving her a hug, she left Janet's and headed home to call Joe.
Joe Marcolina hung up the phone and sat in his black leather office chair, then swiveled around so that he looked out at the Marina on the Inter-coastal Waterway, and the drawbridge behind it. A large fishing boat plowed through the waters headed back to port. After a minute, he turned back, and punched the intercom button.
"Karen, he said, "Get me Jon Grunfield, please."
"Home or office?" she asked, knowing he would know.
"Home," he said, and after checking his Rolex wristwatch, followed with: "and check my book, if you would. What've I got on for tonight?"
"The Baptist Charities have that nomination dinner," she said, "Eight, at the Port City Chop House."
"Wonderful," he said dryly. "Okay, get me Grunfeld."
When the call to Grunfeld came through, Marcolina was succinct. "Reason I called you, Jon, I think it might be a good idea if you had a chat with Nick Fitzgerald.
Joe paused, "Yes, that's right... about his penchant for other men's cock."
He chuckled, "I know it's none of your personal business, Jon, and I know how you feel about Nick's potential for being a real money-maker for you. But I think the time has come where if you don't get involved you may regret it later."
Joe listened and nodded. "Because it may have repercussions for you and your bank, that's why." He paused, "It's no longer a secret, Jon. Janet's off the reservation. She's after his balls. I can't give you any details other than someone sent her some incriminating pictures of Nick with a dick up his ass. But listen to me, please. If you talk to Nick about it and he doesn't, or can't do anything to keep her quiet, try to buy him out."
He paused again, "Yes, Jon, that serious." He listened again, "You're entirely welcome, Jon. I like to help my friends."
He put the phone down and looked out the window again, thinking, that fucking Fitzgerald can't keep his dick in his pants when a good looking guy walks by. Janet may destroy him over those pictures. He shifted in his chair and groped at his crotch.
Janet's got a great ass though, with legs I bet could crush a walnut. But that fucking pansy husband of hers... and her with pictures of that realtor sticking a dick up his ass... Goddamn him! He picked up the phone and punched an outside line. He dialed a number and a receptionist answered, "Mrs. Grunfeld, please." He waited to be connected. "Hello, Bernice?" he said, and then, lowering his voice, "How soon can you get away and meet me?"
"Forty-five minutes," a velvety, very seductive voice purred.
"Is that okay?" he asked.
"If I leave any earlier," she said warmly, "it may cause cheap talk."
Marcolina laughed. "Forty-five minutes it is," he said and recalled how easy it had been to snag Bernie as his mistress.