Five minutes later he understood why Alecia couldn't cancel out on the weekend ahead of her; there were other people involved. People who were counting on Alecia.
The "other people" were Merril and Dick Harris, a couple with whom Larry and Alecia spent a lot of time. The two couples had, several months in advance, made reservations for the coming weekend at the Feslon Institute.
"What the hell's the Feslon Institute?"
"I don't know that much about it, except that it has something to do with sexual therapy."
"Sexual therapy? For you?" Jim asked incredulously. Then he started to laugh.
"It's not for me; it's for Merril. She's really uptight."
"So why are you going?"
"Larry and I promised Dick we'd go. That was the only way he could get Merril to agree to it."
There was a long silence. Then suddenly Alecia brightened. "I've got an idea!"
"What?"
"Why don't you come, too?"
"Are you crazy?"
"No, listen," Alecia said excitedly. "Larry doesn't know you, so if you showed up at the Institute he'd just think you're another guest."
"Do single people go there?" Jim asked. He was beginning to get interested in the idea after all. Why not?
"I think so. I'm almost certain."
"What do they do them?"
"I'm not certain. But if we don't like it, I'm sum we can get away for a while."
"I don't know…" Jim still hesitated. "Oh, come on, Jim. There's no harm in trying, is them?"
"I guess not."
"That's a good boy."
"Now shut up."
"Why?"
"Became I want to fuck you again."
CHAPTER TWO
Merril Harris was nervous as she waited for Dick to come home. The closer it got to the weekend, the more she wanted to back out of it. Though she didn't know what would be expected of her once they got to the Institute, she wasn't certain she even wanted to know.
The whole thing made her ill.
Why did everybody have to be so concerned about sex, anyway? Sometimes she wished she'd been born ugly; then none of this would be a problem. Instead, she had been given a body that, no matter how much she ate, still somehow stayed lithe and slim, and a face that looked like it belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine.
Shit.
Men were all the same. She should have never gotten married. Then she would have been able to do exactly what she wanted to do.
The only problem with that was that she loved Dick. If she didn't, she knew she could never have lasted this long. He was good to her patient and understanding, willing, for the in oat pert, to accept her hang-ups.
Still, somehow, she had to get out of this weekend. Then was no way she could go through with it.
Just then Dick's car pulled up in the driveway outside. She knew she was going to have to say something to him tonight; it was Thursday, and they were planning to leave tomorrow afternoon.
"Hi, honey," he called out from the hallway. Then he put his arm around her and kissed her lightly on the cheek, gentle as always.
Two hours later she knew it was time to say something. Dinner was behind them and they were both in the bedroom watching television. He had been exceptionally nice to her all night, which only served to make her feel more guilty.
And more resentful as well.
Sometimes she wished he would be nasty to her. Then, at least, she wouldn't have such a problem feeling guilty all the time.
"Dick?" she asked at last, unable to wait any longer.
"Hmmmmmmm?" he responded, looking up from the magazine he had been leafing through.
"I need to talk to you about something," she said, coming over and sitting down next to him on the bed.
"What?" he asked, red warning signals beginning to flash inside his head. "If it was about this weekend…"
"It's about this weekend…" she began, confirming his concern.
"What about it?"
"I don't want to go."
Dick wasn't surprised, but he couldn't believe it. What was the matter with her? Goddammit, he'd had just about enough of this.
"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" he eked, his voice deceptively calm. Inside he was seething.
"Oh, honey, please. I just don't think I can go through with it."
Dick didn't say anything. He was afraid that if he did it would come out as a shout.
"Honey?" she asked, not sure what his silence meant. She put her hand on his arm.
He jerked his arm any.
"Honey, please…" she pleaded.
"Honey, please, my as!" he exploded. "Just how the hell much of your shit do you expect me to put up with?"
Merril was appalled. Dick never talked like this. "I-I don't have to put up with this," she stammered.
"Good. Then get your ass out, 'cause I don't have to put up with any of your shit either."
"Dick!" She couldn't believe any of this was happening.
"Dick what?" he returned belligerently. Dammit, she deserved everything she was getting.
"All right, I'll go."
"You're Goddamn right you'll go."
"Bastard!" she screamed. Then she slapped him. Hard. Across the face.
Merril was immediately remorseful for what she had done; neither of them had ever even come close to doing such a thing to each other. They were civilized people.
"I'm sorry."
"That's not enough," Dick spat out, moving menacingly toward her.
"What do you mean." He slapped her.
"Dick!"
"Shut up, bitch."
He grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her back onto the bed.
As she fell back, one of the buttons on her blouse popped off, revealing her breast for a split second.
"You listen to me," he growled, grabbing her shirt and ripping it down the front, exposing her tit.
She started to rise up off the bed, but he slapped her again, a stinging blow across the face. Both her cheeks wore scarlet now as she lay helplessly beneath him.
With a single, surging motion, he grabbed her slacks and pulled them down over her hips until she was naked except for her panties. Instead of pulling them off as well, he ripped them off, tearing the material to minds and leaving Merril naked, gasping on the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"What am I doing? I'm getting ready to fuck you, little Miss Tight-and-dry-cunt!"
"I'm not putting up with this," she said, starting to get up. But when he rammed his arm as if to hit her, she lay back down.
He was naked now as well, and the sight of his huge swollen cock should have been enough to terrify Merril.
But it didn't.
She didn't understand it, but suddenly the sight of his cock didn't make a knot form deep in the pit of her stomach.
What was happening? This was insane; she was madder at Dick than she had ever been in their married life, so why did she suddenly, unaccountably want to be fucked by him? It was crazy.
Roughly he grabbed her legs and spread them wide apart, revealing her bare cunt and giving him his first surprise of the night.
Her cunt was wet.
Dripping wet, in fact. The lips were moist and glistening in the soft light of the room.
"Go ahead," she whispered, her voice hoarse. He plunged his cock into her. "Aaaaggghhh!" she groaned as his cock drove straight to the depths of her cunt.
"Does it hurt?" he grated between clenched teeth.
She nodded.
He drove himself harder.
She grabbed him with her hands, her fingers digging into the back of his shoulders.
Yes, it hurt. But it felt good too. Better than it ever had, in fad. She didn't know why, but she wanted him to take her.
"Fuck me…" she barely breathed. It was a word she never used.
The sound of it turned her on.
Dick plunged his cock into her even harder, trying to drive it all the way through her. He could feel the muscles deep inside her clinging to his meat, but they only made him want to fuck her even more.