PART 3: THEY

 

By Margo Perry
margo707 @ rogers . com
Copyright 2012 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

 

 

 

Joe’s white knuckled grip on the steering wheel unnerved me. 

 

You should have warned him!

You should have kept him away from here!

 

I ignored the pesky voice in my head.  I was tired of doing the right thing, while my sister got away with murder.  Well, not this time.

 

“Take the next left and then right into the motel parking lot.”

 

Joe changed lanes without a word and his tight jawed, unwavering concentration on the road filled me with guilt.  I’d seduced a man who was nothing without his honour.  I’d made him vulnerable.  I was setting him up to discover Sally’s infidelity and it would hurt, shock, and disgust him.  But, I didn’t care.  I needed him to feel the raw pain that her selfishness caused others.  I needed him to turn to me for comfort.

 

I imagined Joe rehearsing his opening scene with Sally.  He’d admit to fucking me, beg for and receive forgiveness. There’d be a tearful reconciliation and finally grateful sex.  That’s what he was thinking, but he didn’t have all the facts.  That’s not how this would turn out.

 

Joe parked in the first available spot and was striding toward the entrance before I could undo my seatbelt.  When he heard my door slam, he stopped, turned around, locked it and I ran to catch up, my tits bouncing and slapping under my blouse.  Joe hadn’t noticed that, although black, it was diaphanous, that the outline of my lacy bra and my generous breast flesh was visually available.  He hadn’t noticed that my skirt matched my top, like my bra matched my bikini panties.  Oh well, that was hardly important now. 

 

“There’s her car,” Joe said, pointing across the way. 

 

His voice had an air of finality and I could feel him physically pulling away from me, as he hurried on and I panted after him.  We’d almost reached the motel’s curved driveway, when Joe stopped moving and I ploughed into him.  There was a moment’s silence, before he turned to me.

 

“I think I just saw Sally,” he said, his face ghostly white.  “She wasn’t alone. She was with a man.”

 

I hoped Joe wouldn’t hear the thumping of my heart.  I took a deep breath, trying to still my anxiety. But, Joe was a big bear, with long legs.  He was moving again and I had to rush to catch up. I followed him across the driveway toward a path that led down to the sea.  Spruce trees lined the path that was dotted with discreet yellow pin-lights, but I could see two shadowy figures turning the corner onto the beach. 

 

During high school, picnics were Sally and Derek’s favourite activities. Before we went to sleep in our shared bedroom, she’d share details, enjoying my excitement and embarrassment. Now, they were reliving their past.  Joe would soon know it and our worlds would never be the same.  He’d be mine.  Sally didn’t appreciate him.  He had to be mine.

 

Joe turned to me.

 

“Did you see them?”

 

“I saw two people, but I couldn’t tell who they were,” I said.  “Maybe we should head back.”

 

“No way!  I have to know.  This would be so . . .”

 

His voice drifted off into the night air, mixing with the sound of calm waves, lapping over a sandy floor.  There were a series of caves up ahead and grassy lookouts, open ceilings where you could see below.  As children, how many afternoons had we spent swimming these waters and exploring their beaches? How many lovers had we spied on?

 

“Come with me,” I said, reaching for Joe’s hand.

 

He took it.  He was trembling.  I led him down the beach a short way and up along a small incline onto the motel’s golf course.  I stopped when we reached the beautifully manicured lawn.

 

“I don’t think it’s Sally, but we’ll be able to check without disturbing some unsuspecting couple,” I lied. 

 

The tide was high and I knew exactly what spot Sally and Derek would choose.  We heard them laughing, before we reached them. 

 

We stood looking down.  The moonlight lit them softly.  Derek was busy with his hands, digging a stabilizing hole for an ice bucket.  He had already fashioned his huge terrycloth robe, into a pillow for Sally’s head.  She was draped over it sideways, sipping wine elegantly, floral bra and panties revealing her hard body, soft tiny breasts, narrow hips and waist.  As usual, she looked stunning.

 

I heard a gasp and watched Joe lumber to the ground, a wounded animal, caught in a trap of horror and curiosity, his eyes glued to the erotic drama.  Derek poured himself a glass of wine and opened a basket, the contents of which we couldn’t see.

 

“Come,” his voice floated up to us, as he spread his muscular thighs and invited Sally to sit between them.  She snuggled her tight backside into his emporium briefs, leaving nothing, but imagination between them.

 

Joe was lying on his stomach, chin on folded hands, staring into what must have seemed like an endless pit of pain.  I dropped down beside him, careful not to touch or lie too close.

 

Derek unpinned Sally’s hair and began to undo the braid carefully, as though it were spun gold.  He stopped now and then to rub his hands over her bra or belly.  Once he tweaked her nipple and we heard her groan.  Joe moaned, but the wind carried the meagre sound away from the cave and sea, as I stroked his back with a sympathetic hand.

 

Finally, Derek was running his fingers through Sally’s curls, making her wild, separating her from the uptight woman in the white suit who had come to meet him.  She twisted into him, pushed him back onto the blanket and began kissing him.  I was so horny, I wanted to touch myself.  Poor Joe rolled away from the hole onto his back and stared up at the sky.

 

They were so hot together.  Derek was restraining Sally, showing her who was boss.  He rolled her over onto her back, grabbed her panties over her hips and down over her legs.  He tossed them aside and Sally rose onto her elbows and watched his head approach her pussy. I saw his long thick tongue as it advertised its intensions.  Sally groaned and threw her head back.  I felt everything she was about to feel and heard myself groan. 

 

Somehow, I managed to pull my eyes away from the drama below.

 

“Let’s go!  Don’t put yourself through this,” I whispered.

 

Joe turned onto his side, facing me.  His face was a shifting mask of pure animal lust, anger and confusion.  He was rubbing his cock through his pants and it seemed thicker, longer and more menacing than I remembered.  He returned to his watch and I joined him.

 

Derek had his massive cock in his hand and was stroking it, his face loose with pleasure.  Sally started to play with her clit, but Derek smacked her hand away, moved in closer, still caressing his own cock.

 

“Eat me, Derek,” Sally begged.  “Eat me like you did earlier.  I’ve missed you, Derek.  I’ve missed your tongue!”

 

Her voice was raw and vulnerable, her face flushed, her mouth agape with longing. 

 

“Fuck,” she screamed, as Derek’s tongue reached its target.  “I can’t … too good … Derek, I’m coming!”

 

Her orgasmic screams and moans seemed to go on forever.

 

“We’ve just begun.” Derek’s voice was husky.  “Ready for this, baby?”

 

“Hurry, Derek, hurry.”

 

“No,” Joe whispered, rolling away.  “Please, no.”

 

I looked into the face of a lost man.  It was time to take over.

 

“Come,” I said, holding out my hand.

 

“I can’t.  I’m . . .”

 

I looked down at Joe’s cock that was hard and thick and begging for release.   

 

Don’t do it.  Think long term …

 

“Come,” I hissed.  “Let’s get out of here!”

 

 Joe struggled up.  I took his hand and led him across the lawn and back down to the beach, silently retracing our steps back to the car. 

 

“I’ll drive,” I said.  “But first, you need this.”

 

I didn’t kiss him.  I hugged him, pressed my tits all over his chest, pressed my pussy into his huge hard cock and moved over it, again and again.  He pushed into me, harder and harder.  We were raw with passion.  I could feel myself climbing higher and higher.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes ….”

 

My orgasm shook me to the bone and warm pussy juice flowed. 

 

“I’m a mess,” Joe said, as cum spread over his jeans.  “Let’s just go back to the condo.”

 

I drove him home.  Inside, I ran a bath for him and left him alone. 

 

I showered and changed into jeans and my over-sized shirt and warmed the forgotten pizza.  We drank wine, ate and talked most of the night away. 

 

When I went to bed, he was writing a note to Sally.  He was telling her that the wedding was off and that he’d be flying back to Fiji with me, for a few weeks, before starting school again.  He’d call to discuss the condo. 

 

I slept well and alone.  There’d be plenty of nights.