The Wives of Beverly Row 5: Lust Has a New Address (2 page)

How could he be just standing there? Zola was so in shock that she couldn’t even move. She just stood there and looked at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hello,” Peter said.

Zola couldn’t say a word. She was too surprised.

“I just thought I’d swing by and pay you a little visit,” he said.

The words didn’t even register with her. She stood there, motionless, her eyes wide with terror, her mind blank in complete shock.

He looked her over. As his eyes wondered up over her toweled body she struggled to breath. Her chest was so tight with fear that she could hardly catch her breath. She didn’t move a muscle. He was wearing the same crude outfit he’d been wearing last time she’d seen him, a stained t-shirt, ill-fitting jeans, dirty white sneakers. The hair on his arms was black and ugly. A mess of stubble covered the bottom half of his face like brush on a hillside.

“Surprised to see me?” Peter said taking a step in Zola’s direction.

She didn’t answer. She wanted to run but there was nowhere she could run to. The bathroom was behind her but she wasn’t sure the lock on the door would hold him out.

“You know Jake said I could come by whenever I wanted, right?” he said.

She looked at him. He had to know that she didn’t want this. The fear on her face must have been obvious to him. What could she say to get him to leave?

“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to have to tell him that you weren’t hospitable to me.”

“No, please don’t,” Zola said. “He’d be so mad.”

She was still standing there with nothing on, holding the towel up around her chest with her arm.

“I was thinking maybe we could have a little fun like we did the other night at the hotel,” Peter said.

Zola didn’t answer that. She had no idea what she was supposed to say. Was there a way for her to get out of this? Was she allowed to say she didn’t want it? She didn’t know the rules. She knew that she wanted to make a stand for herself, tell Jake that this couldn’t go on, but was she ready to do that right now? Was she ready to tell this man to leave? No, she wasn’t. She was still far too afraid of Jake, too afraid of being kicked out onto the street with nothing, to do anything that would anger him.

She looked at the phone by the side of her bed. If only she could call Ariel and get her to come back over. Peter must have just missed her in the driveway. He noticed her looking at the phone. She looked away from it immediately.

“I’d better finish getting ready,” she said, weakly. “Would you mind waiting downstairs while I put on my makeup?”

“I’ll wait up here,” Peter said.

She knew he was keeping her away from the phone on purpose. She didn’t want things to get ugly. She didn’t want to have to fight him. “Oh,” she said. “Okay.”

She went back into the bathroom and finished putting on her makeup. She was in shock. Was she really getting ready so that this awful man could fuck her? Was that what had become of her life? She put on foundation, blush, mascara, lipstick. She knew she looked beautiful by the time she’d finished but she took no pleasure in it. She didn’t have any clothes to put on in the bathroom, they were all in the bedroom. The door was open and she could see Peter sitting out there on her bed, waiting for her.

“You look good enough,” he said, impatiently watching her. He was leaning back on the bed, watching her every move. She glanced again at the phone but she knew it was no good. There was no chance she’d be able to make a call, not without Peter pouncing on her and overpowering her.

“I just want to look perfect for you,” she said. As she applied her eye-liner she realized that her hand was shaking. She was terrified. She was terrified of what was about to happen, and of what she might do to try to stop it. She didn’t have the courage to try anything.

She stepped back into the room, the towel still the only thing she had on.

“I’m going to put on a surprise for you,” she said.

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” she said. “Go wait in the hall and I’ll tell you when to come back in.”

She could see that he was thinking about it. She was sure he didn’t fully trust her but he was weighing up the risk of leaving the room. What could she really do to escape? Jump out the window?

“Alright,” he said. “Just don’t take too long. I’m ready to spill my load.”

She smiled at him, an utterly false smile, but she tried to make it seem real. Then she walked up to him and took him by the hand. She pulled him up from the bed and brought him to the bedroom door.

“Just wait right here,” she said as she shut the door. “I’ll only be a moment.”

She closed the door behind her and then went over to the telephone by the bed. She wanted to call Ariel. All she had to do was ask her to come over. That would probably be enough to scare Peter away. She was standing right next to the phone. She reached out with her hand to pick it up but she stopped half-way. She couldn’t do it. She was too scared. What if Peter saw? What if he told Jake? What then? She was desperate to pick up that phone but something inside her was just too terrified of disobeying her husband. She just couldn’t do it. Jake had her under his thumb, he had complete control of her, and she knew it. She knew it but there was nothing she was able to do about it.

She felt like weeping. What was
wrong
with her? She was standing
right
by the phone and she couldn’t even pick it up and call for help. Had she really turned into that much of a coward?

“Are you ready?” Peter called from just beyond the door.

“Just a second,” she called. Her voice cracked but she doubted he’d noticed.

She went quickly to her dresser and pulled out the skimpy black satin bra and thong that Jake had given her. She knew she looked sexy in them. She saw the leather collar in the drawer too, sitting there on top of her other underwear. She decided not to wear that.

“Alright,” Peter called from the hallway, “you better be ready because I’m coming in.”

She hopped up onto the bed and when he came in he was greeted by a sight that no man would be disappointed to see. Zola was sitting back on the bed, facing him, looking right up at him through her knees, displaying her entire body to his gaze.

“God, you’re a beautiful woman,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. She tried not to think about what was happening. She wanted it to just happen and be over as soon as possible. She would try not to remember any of what was to follow. She would allow him to have his pleasure, then she would wash him away and never think of this event again.

Peter got up onto the bed and sat next to her. He reached up and touched the side of her face gently. There was a stray lock of hair falling in front of her face and he brushed it carefully behind her ear.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said.

She nodded. She realized she was holding her breath and tried to relax.

He took her jaw in his big, thick hand and pulled her toward him so that he could kiss her. She shut her eyes as he slid his wet tongue into her mouth. It would all be over in a few minutes if she played along. That’s what she told herself as Peter’s disgusting tongue slid around in her mouth, licking her lips and her tongue.

“If you were mine, I’d never share you,” Peter said.

Zola looked at him blankly. She tried not to listen to his words but it was impossible to ignore them completely.

“Would you like that?” he whispered in her ear. “Would you like to be mine? To be completely mine and never he shared?”

She didn’t know what to say. Was this a trick? Was he going to go back to Jake and tell him what she’d said, or did he just want to hear her say that she wanted to be his. She didn’t care what she said, she didn’t care whether she was Peter’s or Jake’s. Either option was a living hell as far as she was concerned. But she wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear. More than anything else she didn’t want to get in trouble with Jake, she was too afraid.

“Would you like me to be yours?” she said.

She closed her eyes as his tongue slid into her ear. It was an awful sensation. She hated it. She tried to keep a blank look on her face. Peter’s hand was groping her chest, pulling down the small triangles of satin that covered her nipples and pinching them between his coarse fingers.

“I was asking what you’d like,” Peter said. His hand had slowly moved down from her nipples, gliding over her flat belly, her navel, and down to the waistline of her panties.

She knew what she had to do. She had to please him. She had to say what he wanted to hear. It was the only safe course she could take.

“I want to be yours, Peter,” she said. “I want to be all yours. I want
you
to own me. I want you to
dominate
me. I want you to show me what it’s like for a woman to be truly
taken
by a man.”

His finger insinuated itself inside her panties and began rubbing against the little nub of flesh that was her clitoris.

“How does that feel?” he said.

His tongue went back into her ear and the slippery wetness of it almost made her scrunch her face in disgust.

“So good,” she lied, as Peter’s finger went further down, sliding inside the lips of her vagina.

Peter took his hand out of her panties and began taking off his own clothes.

“Should I strip too?” Zola asked.

“Not yet,” Peter said. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

She watched him take his clothes off. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He was so out of shape, so poorly put together, that she almost felt bad for him. He had a big gut of flabby, white flesh. On his back were moles and thick, black hairs that looked like pubic hairs. His penis was large and erect but with ugly, purple veins crawling up it like vines. His scrotum looked like a hairy little purse made of wrinkled pig skin.

When he was completely naked he got up onto the bed on his hands and knees with his back to Zola. She wondered what he was going to make her do. It looked like he had some strange game in mind, the way he was kneeling, looking out the window on the far side of the bed. Maybe he was going to tell her to ride on his back like a horse.

Peter reached around to his own ass and pulled the cheek open with his left hand. He supported himself with his right.

“See my anus?” he said.

Zola’s heart caught in her throat. What was this? What was he going to make her do? She wanted to run from the room but she was too terrified.

“Yes,” she said, weakly.

“Don’t be afraid of it.”

“I’m not,” Zola said, but the truth was that she was petrified by what Peter was going to make her do. She looked at the pink muscly anus surrounded by black hairs.

“Embrace it,” Peter said.

“Okay,” Zola said, but she wasn’t sure what he meant.

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “You don’t have to lick it if you don’t want to,” he said.

“No,” Zola said. Her voice caught in her throat. She thought she might cry, or throw up, or just faint from not being able to breathe. She was so tense that she couldn’t even take a breath. She felt on the verge of having a panic attack. “I want to. Really I do.”

Peter smiled and nodded, an awful grimace spreading across his face.

She sat up and grabbed Peter’s ass, a hand on each cheek, and spread it open. He removed his hand. She held his cheeks wide open and then leaned slowly forward and very gingerly let her tongue touch the skin of his anus.

“That’s it,” Peter sighed.

Zola kept her eyes closed. She didn’t swallow. She let her saliva drip from her mouth out onto Peter’s ass as she continued to lick the pink circle of his anus. She’d never felt so filthy and disgusting and demeaned in her entire life.

“Keep licking,” Peter said.

She ran her tongue around his anus, and then let it slide down his crack toward the back of his awful, wrinkly scrotum, licking the back of it.

“Oh, God,” Peter said, moaning in pleasure. “That feels so good.”

Zola wondered what kind of a man he was. What kind of man enjoyed having his anus licked by a woman? Was he secretly gay? She didn’t know. She wondered if he was too ashamed to ask his own wife to do this, and that was why he was here, making Jake’s wife do it for him instead.

“Now spank me,” Peter said.

“What?”

“Just do it,” he said, and he sounded so insistent that Zola didn’t even dream of disobeying him.

She sat up and drew back her hand and then landed it firmly on his ass with a loud smack.

“Again,” Peter said.

She spanked him again and again.

“Harder,” Peter cried out as she continued spanking him.

Zola was spanking him so hard that her hand was stinging.

“Harder,” he kept begging.

“I can’t,” Zola panted, her hand as red as his butt cheeks. “I need something to do it with.”

“Okay,” Peter said. “What do you need?”

She looked around the room. There was a round, wooden tray on one of the dressers that she kept perfume on. It wasn’t perfect but she would be able to use it to spank him and it would be a lot less painful for her.

She got up and quickly took the perfume from it. Then she brought it back to the bed.

“Hit me with it,” Peter said. “Hit me as hard as you can.”

Zola was amazed at how hard he wanted to be hit but she didn’t care. She was just glad that she wasn’t still licking his anus with her tongue. She was sure she would have a bruise on the inside of her wrist from all the spanking but anything was better than licking his horrible asshole.

“Hit me,” Peter continued to beg and when she started spanking him with the wooden tray she put all the strength she could muster into it.

“Again,” Peter cried out.

Again and again she brought the tray down against his tender butt cheeks. They were so red that she was almost afraid to go on, but there was a part of her that enjoyed hitting him. She felt as if she was somehow punishing him for the things he’d made her do. She wanted him to feel pain.

She thought about everything she’d been forced to do to him as she hit him with the tray, about Peter and Jake fucking her together, about all the things Jake was making her do, and she swung the tray so hard that when it finally crashed against Peter’s ass, it split in two with a loud slapping sound.