by Jw Grodt
CHAPTER SEVEN
They celebrated the New Year with Jared starting a new job: a really good job but one that required him to do some traveling. His first week-long trip was to New York and he took Nicole along. She had never been to New York City before.
When they returned, Brad was waiting at the gate as their flight deplaned. When she saw him, she ran to him and gave him a big hug. Jared followed behind with the smile of a man who had been alone for a week with his beautiful bride. As they walked to the baggage claim, Nicole babbled nonstop about all she had seen and done. Brad listened to her with polite enthusiasm. He took in her body, dressed in a new outfit purchased in the city. He was secretly glad to have her home.
A month later, towards the end of February, Jared had to fly to St. Louis for a conference and a convention. He was gone for ten days. The first night he was gone, Nicole fixed one of Brad’s favorite dishes from Julie’s old recipe book. He was home promptly at dinnertime.
When he came in the door and hung up his hat and coat, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Come on, Dad. Dinner is ready.”
Her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He carefully pushed her away and cleared his throat. “I’ll go wash up and help you set the table,” he said.
“It’s all done, Dad. You just sit down after you wash up.”
“Okay, be right back.”
Her cooking was always delicious; he was more than happy to skip Kelsey’s happy hour frozen fare. If I could, I’d have dinner at home every damned night.
When Brad returned to the dining room, dinner was on the table and she had lit two candles. “Sit down, Dad, and I’ll serve you.”
She brought the casserole dish over and began to scoop stuffed green peppers onto his plate. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. When she leaned over to serve him, the front of her top sagged slightly, exposing a portion of her breasts. He strained to see the large, puffy pink nipples he remembered so vividly. He could feel himself moving in his shorts. She’s your son’s wife for God’s sake! He thought of the Commandments about adultery and coveting one’s neighbor’s wife, hoping it would serve as a moral compass in his moment of weakness.
The two of them had what Brad considered a pleasant dinner conversation. He took the opportunity to satisfy one of his curiosities. “Nicole, how did you and Jared meet?”
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“No. Getting that kind of information out of him is difficult and I learned years ago not to pry.”
“Well, it wasn’t anything particularly romantic, but my girlfriend and I were at a nightclub one evening when Jared came in. They were already acquainted and he came over to say hi to her. She introduced us and we made an immediate connection. He stayed with us through a couple of drinks and he wasn’t asking me to dance, so I asked him. Once we got on the dance floor we stayed through several songs. The last dance was a slow one and during the song he asked me if I would like to go to a movie with him. I accepted and after that we saw each other almost every day for about a month, but he was also seeing some other chick. I wanted him all to myself so I told him it was her or me. I think he was only still seeing her because she would give up what I wasn’t willing to, if you understand what I mean. Fortunately, he chose me. After three months we were pretty serious about each other and Jared wanted me sexually, but I refused. I told him I was saving that for my husband. We lasted another nine months until neither of us could stand it, so he asked me to marry him. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Brad beamed at her. “Well then, you must have been made for each other.”
They made more small talk. He felt a little uncomfortable when she told him what a great father he was and how she wished her father had been more like him. He nervously wolfed his food and began to choke.
“Slow down, Dad. You’ll make yourself sick.” She reached out and touched his arm—the sensation of her touch was what could only be described as a hot chill. He was both electrified and repulsed.
After dinner, Brad offered to help her clean up but she insisted that he sit down and watch television. He put up a token resistance but then went to the couch and read the paper. When she had finished, she came into the living room and sat down—right in his lap! She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you for letting me live here in your house, Dad.”
Christ! She was sitting right on his manhood and with her slight movements he started to get an erection.
“Oh, let me up quick! I have to pee.”
He stayed in the bathroom for several minutes, trying to pull himself together. He forced himself to think of his love for Jared, and how all of his current thoughts and emotions could destroy his son. He calmed himself and exited the bathroom.
“I’m really tired. I’m going to bed. Thanks for a great dinner, Nicole. See you in the morning.”
Nicole, still seated on the couch, smiled and batted her long lashes. “Okay, Dad. Sleep well, good night.”
The next afternoon, when he was out on a job site with Stan, she called him on his cell. “Hi, Dad. Just wanted to see if you wanted anything special for dinner tonight?”
“No, Nicole, nothing special. Whatever you’d like is fine.”
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble, really.”
“I’m sure. I’ll be home around six. Bye.”
Stan, removing his hard hat and wiping sweat from the back of his neck with a bandana, gave him a quizzical look. “Your daughter-in-law seems to be taking good care of you, Brad.”
He mumbled in agreement, shoved his phone back its holster and changed the subject.
Brad walked through the door around six fifteen. He sniffed the air, detecting the savory aroma of grilled meat as he entered the kitchen.
“Smells gre—”
She screamed and spun around with the knife in her hand, pointed at him. “Oh Jesus Christ! You scared me!”
She put down the knife, hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, her soft lips hesitating against his skin. Tonight she wore a loose-fitting t-shirt and tight jeans. Once again she was braless and occasionally her nipples would get hard and protrude against her shirt fabric. He became fearful of another uncomfortable night.
“I have some work to do tonight; I hope you don’t mind. I’ll be going to my room to finish some things that I’ll need first thing tomorrow.”
Her ever-present smile dropped and her voice turned cold. “Oh, I see. I’ll miss your company.” She promptly returned to the kitchen.
Around eleven o’clock she tapped on the door. Brad quickly turned off the TV and opened his laptop. “Come in.”
She walked in with her cell phone, wearing a sheer nightgown. When she stood in front of the lamp on the dresser, the diaphanous fabric revealed her curvy, feminine perfection. “Jared wants to talk to you, Dad.” She handed him the cell phone.
“Hi, Jared. How’s Scottsdale?”
“Fine, Dad. Little warm already though. How are you?”
“Fine, son. Your little wife is taking good care of me.” Brad tried to keep his eyes focused on the ceiling, the bed, anywhere but on Nicole’s breasts, which beckoned to him like two luscious melons.
They talked a little longer before he handed the phone back to her. Surprisingly, she said a rather quick goodbye and hung up.
She stood there, forcing Brad to look at her. “Dad, can I talk to you about something that’s bothering me? Just between us?”
Brad hesitated a moment before he uttered, “Yes.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “Last night, when you asked about how Jared and I met, it reminded me of something.”
Brad’s heart rate accelerated and his mind filled with dread.
“Jared thinks I was a virgin when we married. He told me in the beginning it was important to him to marry a woman that no other man had been with.”
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Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. He was becoming more nauseated by the minute. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she wrung her hands.
“Dad, it bothers me because it isn’t true. Oh, I don’t mean I slept around before Jared. I never did and I would have been a virgin when we married, except for something absolutely horrible that happened to me.” She hesitated, seeming to gather her courage. “Dad, I was ruined.” She began to cry.
Brad was locked in panic. He didn’t know how to respond to this. He struggled between throwing himself on her mercy and responding like a comforting father. He mustered the courage to feign the latter.
“Ruined? What do you mean?” He marveled at the comforting, concerned tone of his own voice. He made a mental note to practice some self-loathing—later.
“I was raped!” She began to heave and sob.
Brad pulled her into his arms and gently patted her back. “Oh, child! No!”
Brad took in his reflection in the mirror over the dresser as she recounted the whole incident in vivid detail. His face seemed to morph like some ghoulish image in a funhouse mirror. His stomach turned. All at once, he heard words that sent terror surging through his entire body.
“I came to when I heard the door to the deck slide shut. I ran to the door and saw the man walking hurriedly toward the woods behind my house.”
Brad closed his eyes and cursed himself while he continued to hold and comfort her.
“I told my folks and they took me to the emergency room. The doctors told my parents and me that…well…I wasn’t a virgin anymore.” Another wave of sobbing overcame her and she thrust herself against him.
Hearing about the aftermath of his brutality was making him sick. Yet, still, as he held her, rubbed her back, he felt…lust. Unbridled, groin-aching lust. He released her and looked her in the eyes.
“Did they catch who did it?” he said, swallowing and bracing himself.
She shook her head and looked down at the bed. “The doctor was a close personal friend of my dad’s and Dad asked him not to report it. My mother wanted to find the bastard, but my dad was afraid of the scandal for me. They were killed in a car accident a few days later, before agreeing on what to do.”
“Why didn’t you pursue it, dear?” Brad held his breath.
“I know I saw him when he came in the room and grabbed me, but I just can’t remember! It’s all so foggy. It’s like I don’t want to remember. Losing my folks right after was so traumatic. But,” she drew his hand to her cheek, “Dad, my question is, should I tell Jared about the man who ruined me? You know, make a clean breast of it and hope he loves me enough that it won’t matter?”
“No!” Brad nearly lost it, but collected himself quickly. “I-I mean no. I don’t think that would do any good. If you were going to tell him, it should have been in the beginning. Now, I think it might do more harm than good. I’d drop it and try to forget it. Try focusing on what you have, a good marriage with a very good man. After all, you couldn’t help what happened to you.”
All the while he caressed her face, trying to be paternal and sympathetic but at the same time feeling his erection stirring.
She reached over and kissed him on the cheek, thanked him and left the room. Brad never took his eyes off her until the door was closed. He fell back against the pillows, panting like he had just run a marathon.
He hated the man she had just told him about, as if that man was somehow not him. He was more paranoid than ever now, wondering if at any point he would do or say something that would trigger her memory, make it all come rushing back with clarity. Her attacker’s face, his face, was locked inside her brain, but for how long? And, even worse, he still wanted her. He wanted her like a junkie wants heroin, or an alcoholic wants a drink. It was eating him alive, looking at her body every day and wanting to reach out and touch it, taste it, possess it.
He turned off his laptop and set it on the nightstand. He wanted to sleep, to forget, but he couldn’t. He thought about the vile person who had “ruined” her, as she phrased it. He wished for some way to tell her that she wasn’t “ruined,” that he had enjoyed her, that she was in actuality beautiful and desirable. Yes, she should be flattered that she was so attractive! He pondered that a moment, thinking how he might be able to confess and at the same time make her understand that it had all been good, that no real harm was done…and then, something vague in his head told him that that probably wasn’t how she would feel.
Two hours later, still unable to sleep, he grabbed himself to hopefully relieve the tension, sexual frustration and bring about sleep. He relived that night, his body joined with hers and the release came quickly. A restless sleep followed. When the morning came, however, he was still tossing and turning, wrestling with his conscience and his libido.
CHAPTER EIGHT
For the next four months Jared traveled more frequently with his new company. His bosses liked the work he was doing and he received a significant raise. Each time Jared was away, Nicole turned her attentions to Brad, hugging him and pressing up against him, always getting excited or worried about something and seeming to use it as an excuse to get closer to him. He noticed she even dressed differently than when her husband was around. Her clothing was much more revealing, more seductive. Brad took every opportunity to ogle her when she wasn’t looking. She continued to invade his bedroom nightly with questions or matters she deemed urgent. And always, always, she was wearing some sexy piece of lingerie that barely covered her. She would perch on the side of the bed and talk with him. Sometimes she would even touch him innocently, on the arm or the stomach. He felt like some animal in rut. It took everything he had to resist the urge to pin her to the bed right there and then.
One night, around midnight, Brad left Kelsey’s after several beers and by the time he arrived home he was badly in need of the toilet. He headed straight for the downstairs bathroom, loosening his belt and unzipping himself before he threw open the door.
After that, it was a series of slow-motion shockwaves. There was Nicole, in the tub, her breasts floating on a sea of bubbles, and she was screaming. He stood there, holding his penis, poised to urinate, his mouth agape. He staggered backward.
“Oh, sorry!”
He turned around and closed the door as fast as he could. Outside the bathroom door he stopped, still holding himself, wanting to go back in there and apologize even more—and climb into the tub and fondle those buoyant tits. He had not been this turned on since…that night.
His bladder brought him back to reality and he ran to his bedroom to use the master bath. After his usual bathroom ritual he climbed into bed. He had no sooner pulled the sheets over his naked body than the door burst open.
“What the hell were you doing? Does a closed door not mean anything to you?”
“I-I’m sorry. I had to use the toilet and I just, I mean, having to piss as badly as I did, well … I’m terribly sorry.” Then, all at once, his anger flared. “Why am I apologizing to you? It’s my damned house! Besides, why didn’t you lock the damn door?”
She became tearful and apologetic. “I’m sorry, but when you burst in it reminded me of…of…that night!” —She ran over to him and fell into his arms…
He became immediately erect and threw back the sheets to reveal himself to her. She looked at his raging member and put her hand to her chest, appearing shocked. Then, without a word, she pulled her teddy over her head and mounted him. Brad was in a rabid frenzy. He watched those beautiful tits with their pink nipples bounce up and down while he gripped her hips. He couldn’t penetrate her deep enough. It was sweet release, as if he had not taken a full breath in over a year. He soared into a state of carnal oblivion. As he gripped her he forced her up, down, faster, harder: relentless and unyielding. Her petite body jack-knifed and her breasts descended onto his face. He bit, sucked, kissed, groaned and grunted. On his final thrust, she scr
eamed and lunged forward, her arms flailing. One arm connected with a framed photo of Jared, placed lovingly, long ago, on his father’s nightstand, and it went tumbling onto the floor, the glass cracking into several jagged shards…
“Dad, are you listening to me?”
Her tone snapped him back to reality. His few seconds of fantasy were so vivid that he had missed whatever she was talking about. He held and comforted her again, trying to keep her from noticing he was erect under the sheet. He apologized to her again, hoping that the bathroom incident would not bring back any specific memories of that night. She was no longer crying but calm to the point that she almost fell asleep in his arms. She stiffened and sat up.
“I’m okay now. I’m sleepy.” She stood, yawned, thanked him for being so nice and then leaned over and kissed his lips softly, but just a peck. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Brad, on the other hand, was anything but sleepy. The picture in his brain was like a short clip from a movie. It started with her sitting up in the tub, her eyes wide and her mouth opened to scream: her dark, wet hair hanging down her back and her breasts with bubbles sliding over them. He got a hard-on and he flipped back the sheets and began to masturbate. The mental image that stimulated him most was the one when she first jumped onto his bed and he had put his arms around her. That thought brought him to a quick and very satisfying climax and he moaned with pleasure. He lay there momentarily and then reached for a tissue from the nightstand. His sexual frustration now satiated, he pulled the covers back over himself and tried to relax. His mind drifted back to that night, and then back to the humiliating time with Crystal. Then he thought back even farther to the times with Julie. He realized that there was no woman in his past that fomented the desire he had for his son’s wife. What scared him even more was that there was nothing more invigorating or enthralling than the thought of taking Nicole against her will. That night he had been at his peak. He had never been more turned on or more virile. He rationalized that it was not that he was some latent, sick bastard. She had simply been there! She, with her shampoo and skin cream smells, she with her moist, freshly showered body. Such thoughts assuaged his guilt enough that he fell into a fitful sleep.