Divergence

They showered, soaped each other with much laughing and playfulness. She made an exaggerated production of soaping and cleansing his cock and balls and he spent long minutes washing her breasts and thighs and bottom.

After, wrapped in hotel robes, they sat on the small deck outside their sliding doors and sipped the champagne. Jack let his hand descend to Julianne’s lap, found the opening in her robe and slowly began to stroke her thigh. She shifted her position to accommodate him, let her head fall back and sank into the effects of the wine and his strong caress.

Three nights, she thought,If this doesn’t do it, nothing will. I can’t possibly stay with David after this. Jack’s hand squeezed the soft flesh at the top of her thigh. She sensed his mounting desire and her own readiness.God! There hasn’t been a minute since I met him that I haven’t been ready for him! The edge of his hand brushed her thickening vulva and she sighed. She reached into Jack’s lap, found the edge of the robe and the hardening cock beneath it. He took in his breath as she squeezed and pumped slowly.

“Shall we go in?” he asked.

“Let’s stay here a few minutes.”

She drained her glass and set it on the table next to her then used one foot to push her chair nearer to him. They laughed softly at the awkwardness and her wantonness. Jack lifted his hand from between her legs and raised it to her lips. She smiled at what she knew was coming. She eagerly took two of his fingers into her mouth and wet them with her saliva. Soon, the soft invasion of her cunt began, welcomed with a low moan of pleasure and a tightening of her grip on his cock. He was hard now,Thick with passion and need --- of me! Her fingers slid down and into the thick hair at the base, probed further, found the soft sack that contained his testicles, lifted it, fondled it languidly until she heard his breathing deepen.

His fingers pushed deeper into her moved inside her, against the walls of her passage, withdrew, sought the stiff little bud at the top and rubbed lightly, hardly touching. Julianne grasped his cock and stroked, her fingers and thumb barely meeting around it. Her excitement mounted to a cresting wave but would go no further. She used her other hand to stop his and remove it from her. Then she slipped from the chair and moved between his knees on the deck, grateful for the solid wood screen that the railing afforded.

She gazed up into his eyes for a long moment and then, slowly, deliberately while their eyes were locked, she drew back his foreskin and covered the shining purple head with her mouth. She held his cock tightly in one hand and cradled his balls in the other. She sucked him with long soft sucks and firm sliding strokes of her hand.

Jack leaned forward and pulled the tie of her robe. She lifted her arms to assist him and felt the night air come in to her breasts and stomach and thighs. Jack lifted her breast, squeezed, pulled the nipple. She moaned, muffled and low. She sucked him till he came in her mouth, hot spurts of thick salty semen. She gagged, recovered then swallowed and finished the job with soft gentle sucking till he relaxed and began to soften in her mouth.

They rested, her head in his lap, for several minutes. Jack stroked her hair and face, then rose, pulled her up into his arms. He lifted her, carried her into the room and laid her on the bed. Before he turned to close the sliding doors and draw the drapes, he opened her robe wide.

“I love to look at you,” he said, his voice thick with passion.

Julianne felt a warm wave suffuse her body and posed while he was busy at the door, arms wide, ankles crossed demurely. When he returned to her, he stood gazing down at her till she began to move self-consciously. The only light came from a small lamp in the corner opposite the doors. It glazed the rich contours of her body with a soft romantic light. After a moment more, he bent, drew her legs apart and settled between them. He began by stroking her thighs and lifting her pelvis, his big hard hands under her bottom. She felt his breath move the neatly trimmed hair between her legs and then his tongue --- broad, strong strokes full on her labia. She felt herself opening, blooming under his ministrations then a probing; a writhing until she felt herself invaded.

His touch was light, teasing and a joy. She responded with low urgent moans and a slow, sensuous undulation of her hips. Her face was hot, her scalp tingled and her blood felt like lava. She spread her legs wider, yearning for the wave, so long at the crest, to break. Her hands framed his head and set the rhythm that she needed. He responded at once and she felt the strong steady mounting of her climax.

Finally it burst and she shuddered hard, cried aloud and clutched his head between her thighs. His fingers dug painfully, deliciously into her bottom and she raised herself off of the bed, straining toward him till the wave broke over her and she collapsed on the bed, her breath making moaning sounds as it labored in and out of her.

She lay with her head on his shoulder. Her arms were still in the robe that trailed behind her and off the bed like a cape. Her right leg was thrown over him, his hand lazily caressing it. She dozed softly, half-asleep, satiated and thick with spent passion.

The knock at the door snapped her eyes wide open.

Jack was on his feet in a second, pulling his robe around him. Julianne sat up and peered at the door as if, by sheer will, she could see through to the other side to what she feared --- knew --- must be there.

“Who’s there, please?” Jack called to the door.

There was a pause, then, “It’s David Smith. I’d like to come in please.”

Jack looked at Julianne. She was sitting, frozen, in the middle of the bed on one hip her hands braced wide before her, her torso and face thrust toward the door. Her breasts hung like fruit between her arms. For a long moment the tableau held like a freeze-frame. Then Julianne moved one long leg and stepped off of the bed, tied her robe around her and moved to the door. She took a last look over her shoulder at Jack. There was nothing to be done. She opened the door.

“Alright, David,” she said softly, “Come in.”

David stepped calmly into the room, looked at Julianne then cast a brief glance at Jack. Julianne closed the door and stood trembling, her surprise plummeting as the reality of David’s presence ascended, like two elevators passing each other. David lifted his head, looked at her. She felt hot tears well up in her eyes and wondered if they were sorrow or shame. She stood with her face averted her hands in the pockets of the robe.

“Julianne, will you please come home?” David’s voice was soft, for her alone.

She closed her eyes in an effort to hold back the tears but only succeeded in squeezing one from each eye. They ran down her cheeks and she tasted them on her lips. She breathed deeply, clenched her fists inside the pockets and opened her eyes again.

“Alright, David, I will.”

“I’ll wait if you want, I . . .”

“No . . . I . . . David, please go! Please! I’ll come immediately, I promise!” She could not keep her voice from breaking on the last syllable but she stood her ground by the door, willing David to leave.

“Alright then,” David said softly and turned to the door. She opened it and he left without another word. She closed it softly after him and leaned against it crying softly. She felt Jack behind her, felt him take her shoulders in his hands.

“Come sit down,” he said.

He led her to the bed and she sat with his arms around her crying against his shoulder for several minutes. Finally, she dried her eyes on the sleeve of her robe, rose to get a tissue and blew her nose.

“I have to go.”

“I know. Shall I go with you?”

“No. Definitely, no. This is something I have to do myself, something I should have done already except that I’m such a coward.” She dropped the tissue into the wastebasket then exclaimed in utter frustration, “God damn it! Why do I have to be so --- so --- clumsy all the time!”

“Julianne, I . . . “

“I’ve got to go!” She grabbed the clothes she had arrived in and went into the bathroom. When she emerged, she hurriedly packed the few things she had brought and zipped the suitcase. She picked it up and turned to face Jack.

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can do.”

“I know. I’ll be at home. Please call --- if you still want to.”

“Jack, this doesn’t change anything. It’s just happening in a way I didn’t want --- a way I tried to avoid. I’ve lost control and --- I will, I mean, I’ll call --- soon!”

The drive home felt shorter than the drive out had been. The highway seemed to pull her forward, drawing her inexorably toward what she anticipated would be a dreadful confrontation with David. She tried to clear her mind of the chaos of questions, to plan what to say but everything sounded so contrived and gratuitous that she gave up and decided to just play it as it came to her. Her heart ached at what she must do.

She parked in the driveway, left her suitcase in the VW and went into the house. David was sitting at the dining room table when she walked in. She took off her jacket and sat opposite him.

“Is it serious?” he asked after a long moment.

“Does it matter?”

“No, I guess not.”

They sat silent for a moment, then Julianne asked, “How did you know?”

“Huddleston.”

“Who?”

“Greg Huddleston, he’s a private investigator. I met him a year or so ago when I was consulting on that industrial espionage case for Minibuilt.”

“You had me followed?”

“It’s a bit more --- electronic than that these days but, yes, in effect I had you followed.”

“How long?”

“For about two weeks, now. I have transcripts of your phone calls. I know who he is and what he does. I know about his divorce, his military service, everything. I know you went to see him at his apartment.”

“And the trip to Philadelphia was ---“

“A ruse, to catch you --- to be sure.” He took a breath, then went on, anxious, it seemed to Julianne, to explain, to tell her how it was done. “Huddleston intercepted your phone call this evening. He saw you leave the house. He relayed the information to me. I was at my office.”

“What --- made you suspicious enough to --- to hire a detective?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Julianne, I’m a psychologist! Did you imagine that I wouldn’t notice? Your moods, your anxiety, your restless wandering about the house, your refusal to eat --- not to mention your coldness.”

It was his first display of emotion and her body stiffened with alarm. She could feel her face burning and knew that it was red with anger and embarrassment. All of her efforts at covering up --- all worthless, transparent.

“David,” she said when she trusted her voice enough to speak, “I’m sorry. That sounds so --- inadequate, I know, but I mean it! I am so very sorry to do this to you. I should have told you immediately but I was ---so confused!”

“What was so confusing?”

“How to go about it, I guess.”

“Not whether you wanted to stay or not?”

“That, too --- for a time, but now there isn’t any doubt. I’m leaving.”

“Well, he certainly looks every bit the idea of the ‘other man,’ straight from central casting as the movie people say.”

Later, she would look back and remember that as the moment that she knew the truth --- about herself, about the whole situation. She raised her hands from her lap where she had been nervously shredding a tissue and placed them flat on top of the table. She looked across at David.

“David, look at me, please.” He raised his eyes to hers and she could see the pain, the crumbling that was going on behind them and her heart turned over. But something else, something more profound had settled inside her.

“I’m going to leave --- tonight. I’ll return in the next few days to get my things. I will go to him, yes, --- and I will bewith him and all that that means, yes, --- but I am not leavingbecause of him. I want you to understand that. It’s true that I want him and that I want to be with him, yes. But the greater truth is that I am leaving because our life together has changed so much that I can no longer live it with you.”

“But it can change again. We could change it together, make it work like it did before.”

“Don’t think that, David. It’s not possible no matter what we try. You’re a psychologist; you should know that. We have gone forward on different paths and we wound up --- here --- in different places.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. Julianne heard the soft ticking of the kitchen clock. Finally David raised his eyes to hers.

“Goodbye, then,” he said strongly.

She let another moment go by while the last of the resolve solidified inside her, then “Goodbye,” she repeated.

David listened as the sound of her car faded into the night. Julianne was gone.