Stanley Redman - Mark_s wandering wife vol. II

"It's all right, Baby," he sighed. "It's all right… No one will ever know… just you and me…"

She let his prick slip from her mouth, a thin string of semen following it away. Then, she rolled off him… like sliding down a great massive hill. She lay a moment, panting in sheer exhaustion. Then, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor, her back to him.

"You hear, Baby?" he repeated. "No one will ever know. It's our secret…"

He tried to touch her and she stood immediately moving out of his reach. She didn't look at him as she went to her clothes. Finally, she said: "I'll know… I'll always know… and that's enough shame to last a lifetime…"

If there was any feeling of guilt ever in his soul, Phillip felt it now. He moved around the room mechanically, quickly, paying as little attention to Laurie's prostrate form stretched across the bed as possible. He slipped into his shirt, punctured the cufflinks, then searched for the right tie.

"You sure you won't come with me?" he said.

Laurie didn't answer. She lay in her robe. Since she'd come back from Uncle Julian's, she'd lain this way… across the bed on her stomach… silent.

"There'll be a party, you know… at the Colemans'. It'll be late… you ought to come along," he said, not really meaning the invitation. Tonight, when it was all done, he'd get out of her life… he had no right in it. He stole a glance at her voluptuous form covered by the robe she wore. God, she was lovely. He thought of Dianne and he seemed to melt inside. He loved her! Yes, he did! He loved her! "Well, Laurie? Going with me?"

His wife raised her face, laying it upon her arm. "So… Mark Coleman's been nominated, eh?"

"Surprise, all right. Everyone expected the old boy to back Byron Acker. I don't know… something must've happened. Inner politics, girl, things we know nothing of… So… we support the nominee of the party, Mark Coleman… he'll be the next Governor, you know."

Laurie thought for a moment. "No, he won't," she said.

"What?"

"He won't. No… he won't be the next Governor, Phillip," she repeated calmly.

Phillip laughed. "Look… why don't you come along with me to the party. Pay tribute, so's to speak…"

"You pay tribute, Darling," she interrupted him, "I've paid all I intend to pay."

He was facing the mirror, knotting his tie. He stopped, watching her in the glass. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling no need to answer him. In the last few hours she had become quite resigned to the brutal cruelties of life. One couldn't continue to be exposed, she'd decided, without developing some callouses. Once in those few hours, she had concluded that she would tell him everything, pour her heart out to him, bare her soul and rid herself of her wicked burden of conscience, even beg his forgiveness, but that, too, had passed. Instead, had come realization that confession was only good for the soul when one's confessor was sympathetic. And he too, had used her. As yet, she wasn't certain to what extent, and she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know, but the fact remained that he had. Still, she loved him…

"You're being damned awful mysterious," he said, interrupting her thoughts. He slipped on his coat and walked to the bed to stand over her. "Why won't you come along?"

She looked up at him. "Because you don't want me, Phillip."

Her statement jarred him. His mouth fell a little agape. "T-that's a hell of a thing to say," he said.

"It's a hell of a way to feel," she replied levelly.

"Damnit," he blurted, his face crimsoning lightly. "I'm beginning to think I understand you less everyday, Laurie."

"Yes…" She nodded. "I agree…" She watched him awkwardly struggle for words. He was angry and confused. She felt there was something he wanted to say but couldn't.

"Oh… oh… to hell with it… and you, too!" he spat, swung on his heels and walked out with a healthy slam of the door.

Laurie remained motionless on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, her mind suddenly even empty of thought. She couldn't cry anymore. She was devoid of any feeling. God, what was to become of her? She felt so desperately alone… but for some unknown reason she was not frightened. It was as if, suddenly, she had come of age… passed beyond that milepost that separated helpless, dependent femininity from capable, cunnning womanhood. She found that she was smiling to herself… a woman's cold, calculating smile… a wry expression in effect. A little chill passed over her at her own sudden apathy.

She rose from the bed and walked to the bottle of bourbon that sat on the dresser. She poured into a water glass an inch or so of the amber colored liquid and raised it to her lips. One swallow consumed half of it and she felt it burn in her mouth and throat and finally in her belly, its warming effects quickly spreading through her. She stared at herself in the mirror, lifting the glass once more.

Thoughts of Jack and Beth Tierney frittered through her mind for no apparent reason, this followed by more of her and Phillip's lovely home… barbecues in the backyard… midnight swims in their neighbors' pool… God, how remote and unrealistic all of that seemed now… how long, long ago, yet, it was only two days past… wasn't it? She'd been so certain that these three days were going to be the happiest in her life to date… She shook her head in disbelief. Was it possible? Had all of these horrible things truly happened to her?

Once more, a chilling sensation caused her to shudder. She poured again into the glass and drank the whiskey down. It burned less the second time and she was beginning to feel better, less taut within. She poured yet a third and sipped at that, walking to a chair and curling into it.

She supposed the Coleman party would be quite a victory celebration… undoubtedly with few inhibitions, judging by what she'd already come to know of the Senator and his charming wife. Phillip would be quite free to follow Dianne off into bed somewhere without his millstone wife hanging around his neck… not that her presence seemed to make a great difference; it hadn't last night, anyway. And the good Senator, it seemed, could care less who his wife was tumbling… Damn his soul, she owed him plenty for what he did to her and let be done to her last night… then, using those filthy pictures to blackmail Uncle Julian. Momentarily, she wondered about the pictures and what would be done with them. She thought of the possibility of them falling into Phillip's hands and was surprised at the feeling of indifference that possessed her. God, was it possible that she had undergone such a mortal change. Her very coldness of heart startled her.

Dear Uncle Julian had done that… destroyed the last vestige of clinging, vineish little girlism she possessed… taught her in essence that the world was a cruel, filthy place, and that survival was most definitely of the fittest…

"Damn them! God damn them all!" she cursed aloud, then gulped away her drink. Suddenly, she burst from her chair. She wasn't about to sit around here and rot. To thievery hell and damnation with that! She would dress; she would go out… she might even pick up a man and let him fuck her silly! Yes, by God! A new day had dawned in the life of Laurie Gates! The wraps were coming off! It was time that she showed them all the capabilities of this little girl! And that was exactly what she intended to do!

Laurie was already a little tight when she walked into the bar off the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel. She'd had another straight bourbon, stiffer than the others, while she dressed. There'd been no actual goal in mind when she left their suite, descended in the elevator to the lobby, and then the little neon sign reading "Embassy Room" had caught her eye. It seemed as good of place as any to start.