Undulating Waves

Story contains disturbing themes, including death and questionable non-consent.

[Dedicated to and inspired by the shades of those that have gone before. Small, petty minds can't appreciate greatness but can only attempt to tear it down.]

*

Of course I'll tell you my story if you're willing to listen, though I doubt it will do much good. Still, if there's even the slightest chance of the truth getting out then it's worth it. Besides, one gets tired of talking to the same few people all the time. The orderlies aren't here for their conversational skills, I assure you, and Dr. Phillips spends a lot of time listening to me but never says what he thinks about what I've told him.

You say you're a reporter from a New York newspaper. That's good, I guess. Perhaps with your help I can warn the world before it's too late, if it isn't already though it may be. Can you tell me today's date? I ask them but they just laugh at me and say it doesn't matter if you're never going anywhere again.

July the tenth you say. Hmm, I could be wrong because since I've been here my mind acts queerly sometimes. Let me think about it, no that's right. That means that I've been in here for almost eight months now and time is running out. Listen to me; you must get the word out! All of our lives may depend on it! Hell, the stakes may be a lot higher than that!!

Wait, wait. Please don't go. I'm sorry, please sit back down. Don't worry. I just get a little excited nowadays. I'm in control again, no need to be alarmed. That's a good fellow, thank you. I'm not really crazy you know, no matter what anyone says. To tell the truth I wish I was, it would be far better than knowing what I do. Just listen to my story and decide for yourself is all I ask.

It's funny how things can change so quickly, really in a blink of an eye. A year ago I was on top of the world and now I'm in a madhouse. And to think that I caused it by doing what I thought was best for my family, that's the hardest part for me to accept.

At the time I was doing well, too well in fact, because that's what allowed us to move here from the city. I bought a nice house, not as fancy as most here, but still beyond my wildest dreams of ten years earlier when we got married. Each morning I'd take the train to the city for work and return every evening. The house was close enough to the station that I could walk, making it quite convenient. We had a nice backyard for Jack to play in and Cornelia soon made friends with some of the other neighborhood wives. The only drawback was there weren't any boys close to Jack's age on the block to play with, but with him starting school in the fall we assumed he'd make friends, and to my everlasting regret he did.

That brief summer interlude was the last time my mind had a moment's peace and I find myself reliving those carefree times constantly. Taking a stroll after dinner to get ice cream or teaching Jack to ride his bike, how I wish it could have remained like that forever. But of course things don't. Progress marches on the fools say. If they only knew where we're marching to and who is leading us they wouldn't be so sanguine, I assure you.

I'm fine, just let me collect myself. By any chance do you have a smoke? Very hard to get in here unless someone from the outside brings them to you. Thank you, you're a good fellow.

Now, where was I? Yes it all started once Jack started school. I even went in late to work on his first day so I could accompany him. He was so proud of being a big boy that we had to take his photo at the schoolhouse door. When I got home that evening Cornelia informed me that Jack loved school and had already made some friends. I wasn't surprised as he was such a sweet boy and a joy to be around. I'm sorry, give me a minute. I didn't realize how difficult this would be on me. No, don't go. I need to tell you this for everybody's sake.

So life proceeded like normal with me going to the city to work and Jack attending school. Most nights before he went to sleep he'd tell me all about his day -- what he learned in class, the games he and the other children played during recess and so forth. As the days went on I heard him mention one name more than the rest, some boy named Peter. My wife told me that he had become our Jack's dearest friend and the two boys had become inseparable. In fact Peter's birthday was coming up and we were all invited to his house for the party.

"I've met Peter's mother at school," Cornelia had told me, "and I'm not sure what to make of her. There's something odd about her though I can't quite put my finger on what. Maybe it's because she's foreign, I don't know. She dresses very stylishly and its plain the family has money. She doesn't walk to school like most of us mothers do but rather she's driven by a chauffeur."

"Well it's to be expected that most here have more money than we do. I'm not doing badly but I suppose by the standards of Greenwich we're practically destitute. You say she's foreign dear, where from?"

"Her last name is van Vliet but I suppose that's her married name. I'm not sure, some European country no doubt. She does have an exotic Mediterranean look about her and a bit of an accent but despite that she is quite charming really. Well you'll get an opportunity to judge for yourself when you meet her at the party. Of course we'll have to buy Peter a gift and perhaps Jack can give me an idea on what to get him."

I thought it odd that all the attending children's parents were invited to a party for a six year old but Cornelia explained that since Peter's parents didn't know many of his classmate's parents it seemed a nice way for all to get to know one another in a social situation. It was also strange what Jack said his friend wanted for his present. All he wanted was a leather bound journal that he could write down his thoughts in -- I thought he's just a child, what thoughts would be worth preserving but we dutifully purchased it.

So on a breezy Saturday afternoon in late September we found ourselves driving to the van Vliet house, or mansion to be more accurate. You couldn't see it from the road for there was a high yew hedge blocking one's view but once we turned onto the long, tree lined drive we saw it looming up in the distance like a colossus. It was built in the Tudor style with many gables and numerous brick chimneys rising high above the peaked slate roof. The first story was constructed with tan stones while the second story and attic were built in the familiar half-timber style and it appeared to my untrained eye to be quite old, not one of the newly built facsimiles.

There were many automobiles already parked on the circular drive as we pulled up and climbed from the car. A dour looking servant directed our feet onto a stone path that ran along the side of the building which took us to a spacious and well maintained lawn in back of the house. It was filled with groups of people, both adults and children, some standing or moving about and others seated at one of the many tables dotting the green sward.

"It seems like half the town is here," I said to my wife in a low voice but before she could reply we were approached by our hosts who had been standing nearby greeting the new arrivals.

"Hello Jack, I'm glad you could come. Peter has been anxiously awaiting you," the woman said with a smile as she ran her fingers through my son's hair. "Peter, Jack is here. Come over and say hello."

"Yes Mother," a pale, blond haired boy replied as he approached. "Hello Jack, thank you for coming."

"Hi Pete. Happy birthday. Here's your present," my son told his friend as he handed him the wrapped package.

"Thank you. May I open it now Mother?"

"All right; but only because Jack is your special friend. You don't want to offend your other guests by favoring Jack, so do it discreetly."

"Okay, come on Jack we'll go inside so I can open it without anyone watching."

"Don't take long boys and hurry back," she said with a smile revealing a perfect set of white teeth which contrasted with her olive complexion.

The two of them hurried toward the house and as they did they were whispering a mile a minute. I had to tear my gaze away from Peter's mother to watch them go and I couldn't help but notice that though Peter was taller he appeared frailer than my own solidly built son. Once they'd gone up a wide set of stone steps and through an ornate backdoor I turned back to the others.

"Well met Mr. Dyson if I'm not mistaken. I'm Zeeman van Vliet and this is my wife Helen," our host said as a way of introduction as he offered me his hand.

He had a very strong grip that made me wince when we shook hands. That wasn't surprising for though he appeared many years older than I was, with much gray hair showing by his temples offsetting the otherwise dark, slicked back hair, he was a powerfully built specimen of manhood.

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. van Vliet and thanks for the invitation. I'm Ray and this is my better half Cornelia."

"Charmed my dear," he said turning his attention towards my lovely wife.

Bowing slightly he took her outstretched hand and kissed it making Cornelia blush and giggle like a schoolgirl. For my part I only shook his wife's hand but as our eyes met I found myself lost in their scintillating depths for a moment. They were of the most vivid green hue with long, dark lashes and they hinted at great intelligence and unspoken mysteries.

"This is some place you have here," I said looking between the house and the grounds once I managed to look away from Helen van Vliet.

"Thank you, it suits our needs," Zeeman said as he guided us toward the tables, his hand on my wife's upper arm as Helen did the same with me.

"Here we are. You're seated at the head table due to Peter and Jack being such good friends," Helen told me in her delightful accent as she indicated our seats, "and you must forgive me for leaving so soon but I have so many things today that need my attention. We will talk later I'm sure."

She left us then and I found myself staring at her retreating figure until I realized what I was doing and averted my gaze. Fortunately Cornelia was preoccupied in listening to Zeeman speak so she seemed unaware though I noticed him give me a sly look.

"That's some view," I said as my eyes looked out away from the house to where I could see the blue waters of the Sound in the distance.

"Yes, there are many interesting sights here," he replied with a knowing smile.

"Has the house been in your family long? It's very impressive," I asked out of genuine curiosity as well as to steer the conversation away from the other sight I'd appreciated.

"No, I bought it after selling the family business. I wanted someplace where I could have seclusion while remaining relatively close to the city."

"It must be nice to be retired so young," Cornelia replied, "I'm sure it allows you to enjoy watching your son as he grows up."

"Quite, though I'm older than I look my dear. However it does allow me to be there for my family as well as to indulge in my little hobby."

"Your hobby?"

"Yes, I have a passion for collecting antiquities among other things. And due to my old business contacts and the closeness of New York harbor I'm able to import any new find my agents may come across wherever they discover it."

While he spoke he gestured for a servant who took our drink order before bowing slightly and departing. Zeeman regaled us with tales of the many exotic places he had traveled to during his life for his family had owned an import company that's roots stretched back to Amsterdam before they'd immigrated to the new world during the Dutch colonial period.

"In fact it was during one of my buying trips to London that I acquired my most valuable possession -- my beautiful wife Helen," he said as she returned and sat beside him.

She smiled at his comment before turning to us and began to speak about how wonderful it was that Peter and Jack were such good friends. Soon she and Cornelia were laughing as they gaily discussed the children and school and such. After a minute of this domestic talk Zeeman excused himself and headed into the house as I sat and listened.

But no matter how I tried to pay attention to what they were saying I found myself staring at Helen van Vliet and thinking about what I desired to do to her. On more than one occasion I was asked my opinion about what had been said but I demurred for I had no idea where the conversation had gone. It got to the point that I found myself focusing on her mouth while she spoke as I imagined her full, red lips performing unnatural acts on me. It was when I began to harden in my trousers that I realized I had to put some distance between us if I hoped to reign in my sudden, uncontrollable lust.

I whispered into Cornelia's ear that I needed to stretch my legs and I'd be back soon. As I kissed her cheek I could feel Helen's eyes upon me. When I turned toward her to excuse myself I couldn't help but notice that as she acknowledged me with a smile her twinkling eyes lingered on the growing bulge in my trousers. I strode away as quickly as I was able to but more than once I found myself turning and looking back and it wasn't my pretty wife that my eyes sought.

While I crossed the lawn I stopped a few times to exchange brief pleasantries with people who I'd met previously at school functions. Still I didn't linger and soon found myself standing alone looking out at the Long Island Sound. Just beyond me the ground sloped down gently for a few hundred feet until reaching a verdant shelf that was so wide in places it was almost a plateau. At one end of this shelf I noticed what appeared to be a rocky grotto with a footpath that began there then wound up the slope until reaching the crest a bit further down from where I stood. Below this shelf the ground dropped precipitously until meeting the rocky Connecticut beach. As I watched, the mighty Atlantic crashed into the shore repeatedly, deluging the coast with wave upon wave and even up where I stood the sound was almost deafening.

Though I found the view splendid and for a moment I wondered about the grotto it was another thought that soon occupied my mind. What was it about Helen van Vliet that was so obsessing me? While I'd noticed other attractive women, even in the presence of my wife, never before had one had such a profound effect on me to the degree that Helen had. And while she was certainly attractive, beautiful even, it still didn't answer how she'd so overwhelmed my brain to the point that I'd become physically aroused.

Even with me standing far away I could almost hear her throaty voice and smell her musky perfume while my erection still strained against the fabric of my trousers. Get a grip I thought to myself, she must unconsciously remind me of someone from the past. Perhaps one of the fancy French whores I'd sampled back while serving overseas in the army. Yes, that had to be it. That would also explain why I'd thought about her sensual mouth on my hard member, the only time I'd experienced such perversions had been back then. It certainly wasn't something I could ask my respectable wife to do or imagine that she'd consider even if I had tried.

After a time my erection subsided enough that I could work my way back to the occupied section of the lawn. By this time the majority of the children, including Jack and Peter, were playing games in a group with many parents watching from the fringes. So I stood for a time as they played tag and blind man's bluff and other such childish amusements until Cornelia came up to me. We walked hand in hand back to the table where we sat and sipped cocktails until Zeeman and Helen returned.

No sooner had she sat down then I again felt my body responding to the mere presence of her. It was as if invisible waves of desire emanated from her to collide against my receptive form. In no time at all I was rigid again in my trousers and I could feel my pulse and heart rate quicken. After a minute of trying to resist these urges and failing miserably I knew I needed to escape from Helen's direct proximity. Standing up I moved my head this way and that as Cornelia and the van Vliets turned and looked up at me.

"Ray, are you all right?" my wife asked with a touch of concern in her voice.

"Uhh, of course. No need to worry. I was just wondering, what I mean to say is I need to visit the restroom."

"Oh, is that all," Zeeman responded with a laugh. "What you need to do is go through the back door and from there take the door on the left to a hallway- "

"Never mind dear," Helen interrupted him as she stood, "I have to check on the status of Peter's cake so I'll show him on my way to the kitchen. Follow me."

Without another word being spoken I accompanied Helen into the house with my trapped erection throbbing the whole time. Once inside the foyer I paused a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the dimmer interior light after the hours spent in the sun. While I did Helen turned to me with an enigmatic half smile on her face as she waited for me when I felt a shudder pass through my body. For the briefest instant it almost appeared as if her eyes had glowed with an unearthly light causing me to run my hand in front of my face. After I did, my vision returned to normal and we began to walk again and I assumed it had just been a trick of the outside light reflecting off her eyes.

As she led me deeper into the darkened house my eyes focused on her swaying hips and posterior as they sang a siren's song. Now though my wife had a shapely figure she was on the slim side in comparison to Helen's fuller, earthier curves. To me it was as if her round, firm bottom was promising undreamed of ecstasy with every movement she made until the blood in my head was pounding in time to the throbbing in my lower region, when I realized she'd stopped and turned toward me.

"The bathroom is here Mr. Dyson," she said as she gestured toward a closed door, "and I hope you don't have too much trouble using it."

"Huh, I don't understand? Why would I have a problem?"

"Well, maybe I'm wrong and it really isn't my place to say but I've heard that when a man is as aroused as you appear to be that it might be difficult to go."

With that she smiled wickedly before she turned and sauntered away leaving me standing there with my mouth open from shock. Once I'd recovered I entered the room and unzipped my fly and whether it was her words or not I did find myself struggling to relieve my bladder. Finally by pushing my engorged member straight down I was able to drain it. After I finished, instead of putting it away like usual my hand began to run along its rigid length as I thought of Helen.

"Would you like some help with that Mr. Dyson?"

Whirling around I saw Helen standing inside the room with a hand on her hip though I hadn't heard her enter. As I stood there speechless she closed the door and approached me. Her hand reached out and took hold of my erection as she crouched down mere inches from my body. Just her touch made me as excited as I could ever remember feeling and for a moment I worried I was going to orgasm from that alone.

"It would be such a tragedy to let this go to waste," Helen said as she looked up at me and a second later her mouth engulfed my swollen head.

It felt like paradise with my member enveloped in her hot, wet mouth as she swallowed most of me right off the bat. After a few seconds she pulled her mouth from me which in all likelihood prevented my orgasm for I could already feel it beginning to percolate in my balls. Her hands next moved up to unfasten my belt and trousers and pull them down past my knees and my boxers soon followed. Helen again took me into her mouth and started to bob her head up and down, inhaling my full length each time with her full lips brushing against my wiry pubic hair before pulling back.