The Wives of Beverly Row 4: Lust Has a New Address (7 page)

Trudy felt deliciously dirty, filthy, slutty and sexual. She screamed as her orgasm ravaged through her body. Her muscles, all of her muscles, began convulsing in massive spasms as if she was being electrocuted with massive surges of power. She screamed and screamed and couldn’t stop. The boys continued to squirt such quantities of sperm into her that she was dumbfounded at the mess. Her cunt and ass were sticky with wet, hot sperm. It was flowing out of her anus and cunt onto the boys’ cocks. Even after they’d finished climaxing inside her, her spasms continued in an overpowering barrage of orgasmic pleasure.

She collapsed onto Gary’s body and continued spasming on him like an animal that was going through its death throes.

“Jesus,” she heard Dean say from behind her. He’d pulled out and was watching her convulse on the bed in shuddering orgasmic aftershocks.

“Jesus Christ,” Gary said.

When the orgasm finally ended, Trudy couldn’t move. She couldn’t even speak. All she could do was lie on the bed and look up at the boys. She rolled onto her back and then didn’t move any more. She just looked at them, their young, handsome faces, their perfectly formed, muscular bodies, their dripping cocks. They were looking at her with expressions that mixed gratitude, pleasure and shock all at once.

Their semen was dripping from her anus and pussy and forming a puddle beneath her on the bed sheets. She didn’t care about any of that. All she cared about was how her body felt at that moment, and about the fact that these two young boys would remember her for the rest of their long lives.

IX

“B
ECKY!” ARIEL CALLED FROM THE
kitchen. “It’s ready.”

“Just a minute, mom,” Becky called down to her from her bedroom.

Ariel took her casserole from the oven and brought it to the table. She’d opened a bottle of wine and she poured herself a glass while she let the casserole cool.

She smiled when she heard Becky’s footsteps on the stairs, rushing down. That girl had always loved her mother’s chicken casserole and it seemed that hadn’t changed.
Other
things had changed of course. Ariel wasn’t sure she was pleased with the amount of time Becky was spending with Kyle. Ariel knew she’d been distracted lately, she hadn’t been keeping as close an eye on her daughter as she probably should have, and she was determined to change that.

“Sorry mom, I was just on the phone.”

“To Kyle?”

Becky looked at her mother. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Of course not, honey. I just want to make sure you’re acting responsibly.”

Becky helped herself to a large portion of the casserole. Ariel made herself a plate too. The two of them sat in silence as they ate. They both seemed to have a lot on their minds.

“Mom?” Becky said.

“Yes, honey?”

“How did you know that you were in love with dad?”

This was the type of question that Ariel had been dreading. Like all mothers, she’d always known that the day would eventually come when her little girl would become a woman, but just like all those other mothers, she wasn’t ready for it now that it was here. She knew Becky and Kyle had been getting serious, she knew they’d probably been exploring their sexuality, and she knew that this was a time that was critical for a young girl. It was a time when she needed her mother’s advice and guidance more than ever. And it also happened to be a time when Ariel herself was so wrapped up in her own life that she hadn’t had time to devote to her daughter.

“Do you think you’re in love with Kyle?” Ariel said.

“I don’t know. That’s the thing. I’m not sure.”

Ariel looked at her daughter. She had no idea how her little girl had grown up so fast. “There’s really no way I can think of to explain how to know if you’re in love,” she said.

“But there are ways you can tell, right?”

“You mean like your heart flutters, you get nervous, you can’t think straight?”

“Exactly.”

“Sometimes love feels like that,” Ariel said. “But sometimes that’s just a crush. Sometimes love feels completely different. Calm.”

“So how do you tell the difference?”

Ariel laughed. “Becky,” she said, “if you knew the answer to that question, you’d be ahead of ninety-nine percent of the women out there.”

“I need to know the difference.”

“What’s going on, honey? Are you and Kyle getting
serious
?” She paused, waiting for Becky’s answer.

Becky looked at her. “I guess you could say that.”

“You’ve kissed?”

Becky nodded.

“You’ve gone further?”

Becky nodded again.

“Oh, honey. How far?”

“Mom!”

“Are you using protection?”

“Mom, please, don’t.”

“What do you mean, don’t? I have to make sure you’re looking after yourself.”

“I’m looking after myself, mom.”

“Honey, you’re so young. I’m just trying to do my job.”

“The only question I have, is whether or not I’m really in love with Kyle.”

“Are you asking because you and Kyle are having sex?”

“Mom! Please.”

“Honey.”

“Okay, yes, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Becky! You’re sixteen years old!”

Becky threw down her fork and left the table.

“Becky! Wait!”

Becky didn’t even turn around. She hurried out of the room and Ariel sat there, stunned, as she heard her daughter, her only baby, run up the stairs. She sat at the table and stared at her plate. What kind of mother was she being? She was allowing her own personal life to get in the way of her parental duties. Becky was having sex! She finished her glass of wine and then made her way up the stairs to Becky’s bedroom.

“Honey,” she said gently from outside the door.

“Yes, mom,” Becky said, very quietly.

“Can I come in, honey?”

“Okay.”

Ariel went into the room. The curtains were drawn and the light was dim, even though it was still bright outside. Becky was lying on the bed, her face buried in her pillow.

“Can I sit?” Ariel said.

Becky rolled over, making space on the bed for her mother. Ariel sat down next to Becky. She put her fingers through Becky’s hair.

“I remember when I used to comb this hair for you every single night.”

Becky didn’t say anything.

“I know I’ve been a little distracted lately,” Ariel said. “I’ve just been caught up in things.”

“It’s okay, mom,” Becky said. “You’re entitled to your own life. I’m not going off the rails or anything.”

Ariel laughed. “Are you sure?”

Becky looked up at her. Ariel was relieved to see she hadn’t been crying.

“Are things moving fast with Kyle?” Ariel said.

“Sometimes. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I just thought…”

“Thought that things would be different?”

“I thought love would feel different than this,” Becky said. “I thought love would change everything.”

“And it hasn’t?”

“I
like
Kyle. I like him a lot. But I pretty much feel about him the same way I feel about any of my other friends. He’s just hotter.”

“I know what you mean,” Ariel said. “I’ve been intimate with men, and realized only later that I might not love them as much as I should.”

“I always thought my first time would be with someone I loved. Like, truly loved, like in a movie.”

“You mean like a Tom Cruise movie?” Ariel said.

Becky rolled her eyes. “Try Ryan Gosling,” she said.

Ariel smiled.

Becky sat up next to her mother. She put her arms around her and hugged her.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t more
available,
” Ariel said. “You’ve had your first time! I didn’t even know about it.”

“It was just a few days ago.”

“I should have been here for you.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Becky said. “I wouldn’t have said anything. I wanted to try it with Kyle. Now I have.”

“And what have you learned?”

“That I think I want to wait till I’m truly in love before I get intimate with a boy again.”

Ariel held Becky so tight. She couldn’t believe that Becky had gone all the way. Her little girl had become a woman and she hadn’t even realized it till it was too late. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held her daughter.

When she left Becky’s room, Becky was going to sleep. Ariel tucked her into bed and kissed her on the forehead like she had when she was a little girl. It felt good to connect like that. Then she went back downstairs to the kitchen to clear away the dinner things. The bottle of wine was still on the table and she poured herself another glass. She needed it.

She took a sip and left her glass on the table while she cleared everything away. Then she brought the bottle into the living room and sat with it on the couch. She was going to turn on the television and see if anything was on but her phone started ringing.

She looked at the screen. It was an unknown local number. She wondered who it could be.

“Hello?”

“Ariel?”

“Yes, this is Ariel. Who’s this?”

“It’s Jake.”

“Jake?”

“Yes, you remember me don’t you?” Jake said, laughing a little.

“Of course.” Ariel felt awkward. She didn’t know what to say. She’d had a one night stand with Jake. He was a married man. She knew how those things were. She hadn’t been expecting to hear from him again.

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You’re kidding.”

“For real,” Jake said.

“I thought when men had one night stands their prime objective was to get the hell away from the girl as fast as possible.”

“Not with you,” Jake said. “I honestly can’t get you out of my mind, Ariel.”

Despite everything, the guilt she felt at having slept with Zola’s husband, the weirdness she felt at knowing that Zola and Jake were into swinging, she couldn’t help allowing a small smile to spread across her face. Jake
liked
her. He might not be Prince Charming, he was a lying cheat just like Gabe had been, but he was sexy, he was rich, he knew what he wanted, and it appeared he wanted
her
. Ariel had always had a weakness for bad boys and Jake fit that bill perfectly.

“Well,” she said, coyly, “it’s nice to hear your voice too, Jake.”

X

“Z
OLA,” JAKE CALLED FROM HIS OFFICE.

Zola was downstairs watching television. As soon as she heard Jake’s voice her heart started pounding a little harder in her chest. It made her feel sick that her own husband scared her. She was ashamed at how obedient she was to him, how much of a pushover she’d allowed herself to become, but the truth was she just didn’t have the strength to stand up to him, not yet at least.

“Yes, honey,” she called up the stairs.

She was already on her feet, making her way toward the kitchen so that she could obey whatever request he had waiting for her. She figured he wanted her to grab him a beer or something.

“Come upstairs?” he called.

She went up to him. He was on his computer, as always, chatting to guys on his forum. When she got to the office he stood up and started adjusting the webcam that sat on top of his monitor.

“Stand over there, will you,” he said, pointing to the area by the window.

She went and stood there, always obedient, never questioning him, never standing up for herself.

Jake turned on his desk lamp and pointed it at her. She put her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes.

“That’s bright,” she said.

Jake ignored her. He typed some more on his computer and examined the picture the camera was getting.

“Move a little to the left,” he said.

Zola took a step to her left.

“The other way,” Jake said impatiently.

She took two steps to her right.

“Okay,” he said. “Better.”

She looked at the camera. She had no idea what Jake was doing, what he was recording, who was seeing the picture that was being picked up.

“Wave,” Jake said.

In more ordinary circumstances, Zola would have felt silly standing there, waving at the camera. But she knew too much about Jake and his forum to feel silly about this. She knew this was deadly serious. Some guy, some internet friend of Jake’s, would be on the other end, looking at the picture of her, and deciding whether or not he wanted to fuck her. If she messed this up, Jake would be furious. This was his passion, this was what was important to him. If he knew that the other men on his forum were all lusting after his wife he would feel happy and confident and satisfied. If she did anything to upset the viewers, Jake would take it as a personal insult.

“Take off your shirt,” Jake said.

He didn’t make eye contact with her. He was looking at the computer screen, making sure the picture was perfect. His voice was steely and hard and unemotional. There was something wrong with him. What kind of man treated his own wife like this? He wasn’t upset, or high, or drunk. He was stone-cold sober. This was his normal state of being.

She looked from Jake to the camera and began pulling her shirt up over her head. She didn’t have a bra on underneath it. She’d been expecting to watch television in her cozy clothes, she hadn’t known she’d be putting on a strip show on the internet.

“Hold your breasts,” Jake said, his voice as firm as ever. “Squeeze them a little. That’s it. Just like that.”

She squeezed her breasts and held them to the camera like she was offering them to a baby for nursing.

“Who’s watching this?” she said.

Her question seemed to distract Jake. It was as if anything that detracted from the illusion he was trying to create, anything that reminded him that Zola was an actual person, his wife, and not just a toy to be played with, irritated him.

“Just the guys,” he said. “Now take off your pants too.”

She looked at him. She’d thought one guy was watching. Now she realized there was an entire group of men viewing the camera. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t even safe. If he was telling these guys where she lived, if he was telling them that they could come by and fuck her whenever they wanted, how was she supposed to live like that? It was impossible.

She undid the string that held her cotton pajama pants up around her waist and let them fall to the ground. Then she stepped out of them. She was entirely naked now.