Quickly, she stripped off her heavy shirt and warm, long pants, and as she stood there before the mirror, she saw herself reflected back, her petite body almost elfin, perfectly formed, with a nice flat belly… even after having borne two children. She was proud of her ability to have survived those two ordeals so well. God! I'm so tiny… and the boys were so big when they were born! She supposed that it was something Frank would never be able to understand: why it was she had refused to have more than two children… and why she had been so distant and cool to him, refusing his love-making on too many occasions. Oh, she took her birth control tablets regularly, but somehow she didn't trust them; then too, she had been caught up in caring for the children, keeping a spotless house, and she was too tired at the end of her day for anything else. She just tumbled into bed, dog-tired, almost every night, finding it easy to protest on account of it or any number of other reasons that came glibly to her tongue. Frank had been understanding and sympathetic for a long time; lately, however, he had become more demanding, which had resulted in his warning: "Damn it, Cheryl, if I can't get taken care of properly at home, then I'm going to have to get it some other place!"
Later, he had suggested that they go away on a much needed vacation, to some place where they could be alone. The hunting safari advertised by the Hardings seemed to be perfect. "According to what Harding told me, this place is so far out in the boondocks that the only way in is by airplane!" Frank had told her. Finally she had agreed to it. They arranged for his parents to care for the two boys… and, here we are! There's nothing but illicit sex going on: the Hardings and Nancy Barber… Frank Paynter and Charlotte…! And, Charlotte trying something with me! Thank God neither Jim Harding nor Gene Barber have tried to get fresh with me! She was sure that she had had quite enough heartache with the knowledge that Frank had finally carried out his threat. But, I couldn't be a part of all this! I just couldn't! Id feel so guilty… and so afraid!
The worst part of it was that she realized only too well the possibilities of losing Frank, now. She'd have to keep him at all costs. That means I'll have to be a better wife…! And, that she knew had to involve sex… more sex and better sex. And, I suppose I'd have to let him do some of those nasty, far-out things to me, and get into all kinds of contorted positions!
Studying her figure in the mirror, she compared herself to that woman who was threatening her marriage. She saw the proud pertness of her breasts, small but perfectly formed, firm yet softly pliant cupped snugly in her lacy brassiere, the nipped-in reverse curve of her waist, repeated in the positive swell of her svelte hips and the soft taper of her thighs caught her attention. I've got everything she has… only she's just a little more gross, bigger all over! Actually, she's almost a big fat slob! It wasn't true, of course, but that was the way Cheryl saw her rival.
Then, she was reaching into the tiny closet to find the right dress. If she were to start winning back her husband's affection, she'd have to start dressing for him, make herself as attractive as possible, then let nature take its course.
She didn't hear the door to the bedroom open and close softly; nor did she hear the soft click of the bolt as it was shot into place. It was not until she turned away from the closet, the hangered dress in her hand that she saw him standing there close behind her.
"Oh!" she gasped. "What… what are you… doing here?" Reflexively, she flipped the dress around in front of her to cover her partial nakedness, her face flushing in quick embarrassment.
Gene Barber had watched her rummaging in the closet, getting a good view of her petite, yet voluptuous figure from the rear, and as she turned to face him, his eyes had devoured her. He smiled amiably at her discomfiture and said, "Don't get worked up, Cheryl. I saw you running away from Charlotte… and I got the idea that you don't go for that lesbian stuff!"
"You're right, I don't!" Cheryl snapped. "And now that you know, you can get out of my bedroom!"
He came close, standing easily before her, and he saw that she was trembling; then, he took the hanger from her hand and tossed the dress to the top of the tiny chest of drawers.
Taken aback by his bold action, Cheryl was too flabbergasted to object, and in the next instant she found herself enfolded in his arms and crushed tightly up against his paunchy body. Then, he was hissing, "But, I've got a pretty good idea that you do go for the real thing between a man and a woman!"
She found her voice, then. "Let go of me or I'll scream for help!"
"No you won't because there'd be nobody to help you!"
"My husband!"
"Like hell!" Gene said, as his hands slid caressingly down her back to find the soft fullness of her buttocks. "He's all tied up with Charlotte again!"
God! It was true! The only other man in the lodge was Jim Harding, who lay injured in his bedroom. Futilely she struggled to escape his imprisoning hands, as he reached up to fumble with the clasps of her bra. There was no doubt at all in her mind as to his intention. He's going to rape me! The clasp was open, now, and her brassiere was practically off already. With a supreme effort, she twisted away from the pudgy lawyer and ran toward the door. He caught her easily, jerked the bra from her and propelled her toward the bed.
"Take it easy, baby! I'm not going to hurt you! That's the last thing I'd ever want to do to you!" His voice was soft.
He pushed her down onto the bed and looked down into her frightened blue-green eyes. He went on, "We're just going to have some fun with each other!"
"You mean you're going to rape me, don't you?" she whined up at him, shuddering as she pronounced the word.
Leaning over her supine form, Gene hooked his fingers into the narrow elastic waistband of her panties, and with a swift downward tug rid her of her final garment. She lay naked and cringing on the bed, attempting to cover her shameful nakedness with one forearm across her breasts, while one hand went down to cover the soft, brown curls of her pubic mound.
"Rape?" he queried. "That's the wrong word. I'm going to fuck you, yes! But, rape you? Hardly! You're going to cooperate, and that definitely isn't rape!"
Wide-eyed with fear, she watched as the pudgy lawyer began to take off his wool shirt then unbuckle his trousers. At that instant, her vision began to dim swimmingly as her tears brimmed over and ran down her cheeks.
"What makes you think I'd ever let you?"
"Well, you know what your husband's been doing?" His shirt and trousers were off, now, and she saw that beneath the slight overhang of his paunch his penis bulged out against the cloth of his boxer-type shorts.
"Y-Yes."
"Maybe what you don't know is that he doesn't care whether you do the same or not! As a matter of fact, I understand that he'd just as soon you did. So I'm going to oblige him!"
"Frank said he wanted somebody else to… to…?"
"To fuck you!" Gene finished. "Turn you on… and fuck the ass off of you!"
Whatever remnant of belief she had in the possibility of saving her marriage vanished, bursting like a soap bubble before her very eyes, but leaving the very tangible reality of Gene Barber's jutting cock, long and thick and throbbing vibrantly as he divested himself of his shorts to reveal its hardened, naked state to her disbelieving and staring eyes. Oh, no! God, no! She couldn't really believe it. Frank? My husband wants me to… to do it… and be an adulteress…?