by

Angel Ray

Copyright © 2016 Tony Banks

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoeverwithout the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

   Susan was six months pregnant with her first child. At first she was elated about being pregnant and having her very first baby with her husband of almost five-and-a-half years Buster, especially after her doctor informed her not long after she married Buster that she had a condition which he described in layman’s terms as “lazy ovaries” and, because of this, the doctor told her the chances of her ever conceiving a child were next-to-impossible. When she first heard this news when she was twenty-five, she was devastated. Both Susan and Buster considered adopting a baby after exhausting all other medical avenues in the hope that Susan would be able to conceive a child on her own.

   But then a miracle happened.

   Susan awoke one morning to this queasy feeling in her stomach. She at first dismissed it as nothing more than a mere stomach ache, possibly from something she had eaten the night before at dinner that didn’t quite agree with her. When she started to rise up out of bed, however, the queasiness she felt in her stomach overwhelmed her and she rushed to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. This went on for nearly a week before Susan made an appointment to see her doctor where he gave her the good news: she was pregnant. Overjoyed, she rushed home to give her husband Buster the wonderful news. At the beginning of her pregnancy, during the first three months, Buster shared in Susan’s elation, or, at least, he appeared to; but then Susan noticed the bigger she got the less enthusiastic Buster seemed to be about her pregnancy. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the bedroom.

   Before Susan became pregnant, she and Buster shared a vigorous—albeit vanilla—sex life. One of the reasons for them enjoying such a healthy and robust sex life—more so than the average married couple—was, of course, Susan’s strong desire to get pregnant and have a child of her own. But now that she was pregnant, the drive and desire that Buster once seemed to have to make love to his wife was disappearing fast and was being replaced with this coldness Susan had never received from him before. What made this even more frustrating for her was that, as a result of her pregnancy, her hormones went into overdrive and, as she was so fond of saying to her girlfriends, she had become what she described as a “walking clitoris” she was so horny. When she finally broke down and asked him why he didn’t make love to her as much as he used to, he just grunted and told her that he had been working a lot lately and was just too tired. Susan knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her, but she was willing to give him the benefit of a doubt. He was, after all, her husband.

   Susan’s world came crashing down around her when she overheard Buster telling one of his new drinking buddies (besides being cold in the boudoir, Susan also noticed that Buster was drinking a lot more) the real reason why he no longer wanted to make love to her. She was lying in bed trying to sleep late one evening while Buster was talking and laughing with his new friend Sal in the front room. Susan, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders because of her pregnancy and the troubles that were coming with it, especially where her marriage was concerned, found herself unable to sleep a wink; and the drunken laughter that was coming from the front room wasn’t helping her sleep any. After lying in bed for what seemed to her like a small eternity, Susan finally decided that she might as well go ahead and get up out of bed and go to the front room to see what was so damned hilarious. However, the vileness she was about to hear spewing from the mouths of her husband and his friend would make her wish she had stayed in bed and covered her ears. Susan walked down the darkened hallway and stopped about midway down the hall when she heard them talking about her.

   “So,” Sal asked Buster, his speech noticeably slurred, “have you and the wifey been doin’ the nasty pretty regularly since you got her knocked up?”

   “Ah, hell, no, man!” Buster shouted back, his speech just as slurred as his friend’s. “That bitch’s gotten too damn fat and bloated for me to wanna bang!”

   Both Buster and his pal Sal howled with drunken laughter. Susan slumped on the floor as tears filled her eyes and rolled down her face. She had never heard Buster speak about her with such maliciousness before, and it pained her severely. Susan wiped her eyes and returned to bed feeling dejected and alone. She was still awake when she heard Sal leave the house, hopefully never to return. She pretended to be asleep when Buster entered the bedroom and, after stumbling around in the dark, plopped down on the bed and fell to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Susan eventually fell asleep herself before dawn and before Buster had to get up and go to work. Susan woke up at around noon but stayed in bed for nearly an hour after she’d awoken because she lacked the motivation or the will to get out of bed. When she finally did manage to pull herself out of bed, she felt like shit; and it wasn’t due to her morning sickness, either. What was supposed to be a gloriously wonderful experience was instead turning out to be a living hell. She sat down in the front room in the chair where her husband Buster had sat the night before with his drunken friend Sal and horribly ridiculed her and contemplated her pregnancy, her marriage, her future. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do or how much more she could take of her husband’s callousness and belittling. She couldn’t for the life of her fathom why Buster was acting the way he was towards her since she became pregnant, especially since they both tried so hard for so long to conceive a child.

   Susan was so depressed and distraught over what her life had become that, in one brief instant, she considered walking into the garage, turning on her car that she hadn’t driven in a while and closing the garage door. This thought consumed her to the point where she stood up and began walking in the direction of the garage when she heard a commotion outside. She looked out the window and saw a moving van pulling up in the driveway of the house across the street. Susan had been so preoccupied with her marital problems that she wasn’t even aware that her neighbors had moved out. Normally she wouldn’t have paid that much attention to what her neighbors were doing since she had enough problems of her own to deal with without having to concern herself with someone else’s, but there was something different—something special—about this family as she inconspicuously watched them from the window as they moved into their new home.

   And that “something” was their young son.

   There wasn’t anything special about the boy; he wasn’t particularly handsome or what one would call a stud, but he was young; and that, in turn, made her feel younger and more vital as well, something that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Susan became preoccupied with the new family’s son as she began to keep her eye on him whenever she could and especially when her husband wasn’t around, which, as it turned out, wasn’t much as he was spending more and more of his time with Sal and his other new-found drinking buddies and less time with her, which, of course, wasn’t a surprise to her. However, Susan wasn’t as bothered by this as she had been, mainly because she herself was spending a good deal of her time watching the boy across the street. She couldn’t say exactly why she felt drawn to the boy, but she would get an especial feeling every time she saw him. Her intense fixation on him didn’t become sexual, however, until she found out that drinking wasn’t the only thing her husband Buster was doing behind her back. She was told the distressing news when her girlfriend Tracy came over one afternoon while, of course, Buster was gone.

   “There’s something I need to tell you, Susan,” Tracy told her, “and you’re not going to like it.”

   “What is it?”

   Tracy paused before giving her friend the dreadful news, knowing—or thinking—that it would upset her greatly. “I saw Buster coming out of this bar the other night.” Tracy paused again.

   “And?” Susan said rather impatiently.

   “And he wasn’t alone.”

   Susan looked squarely at her. “What do you mean he wasn’t alone?”

   Tracy answered her friend slowly and carefully. “I mean I saw him with another woman, a younger woman.”

   “And what were they doing?”

   “Well,” Tracy began, trying to find the right words, “let’s just say you could tell they were more than friends.”

   Tracy expected Susan to tell her that Buster would never even think of screwing around on her. When she didn’t, Tracy at least expected her to become halfway angry by what she had told her about her husband. Instead, Susan just sat and stared at her with a surprisingly nonchalant expression on her face like she wasn’t shocked at all by the idea of her husband having an affair on even more than one, for that matter. The fact of the matter was Susan had been through too much in the past few months to be angered or shocked by anything her husband did anymore, no matter how backstabbing or despicable his actions were. The only thing she felt anymore was numbness, though this latest humiliation brought Susan back to the breaking point. Susan was by nature not a vengeful person, but she wanted Buster to pay and pay dearly for all the pain and suffering he had brought upon her since becoming pregnant. Since he was screwing around on her with younger women, and there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that he was, she felt it was only fitting that she fool around on him with younger men . . . and she knew the perfect younger man who’d serve her purpose just fine. Susan wasn’t sure how she would go about seducing her next door neighbors’ son, but, as lucky fate would have it, she didn’t have to go to him as he came to her instead. Susan heard a knock on the front door late one afternoon while Buster was gone off either with his drinking pals or with his latest younger lover. She opened the door and was surprised, pleasantly surprised, to find the young man she’d had her eye on standing at her doorstep.

   “Hi, there,” he said to Susan rather shyly, “I-I just moved in across the street with my folks.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to the house across the street.

   Susan smiled widely as his innocent shyness only made him appeal to her only more. “Yes,” she said, nodding her head, “I know.”

   “Yeah,” he said, chuckling nervously. “My mom said I should go around the neighborhood and make friends with all the neighbors.”

  “Well,” Susan began to say, her voice a seductive purr, “your mom sounds like a nice woman.”

   “Yeah,” he said, chuckling again.

   “Would you like to come in?” she asked him flat out, getting right down to business. The boy hesitated, which made Susan say to him, “Come on. I won’t bite!”

   That seemed to loosen him up somewhat as he again chuckled nervously and said, “Uh, okay.”

   Susan’s smile broadened more as she stepped back and opened the door to let him in. He walked in the house a bit slowly, and a bit awkwardly, as if he was still unsure about whether or not he should go inside a stranger’s home without his parents’ permission, especially an older woman who was home alone like Susan was. Susan noticed how he acted like a little boy in a lot of ways despite his obvious age. Though she did not yet know anything about him, not even his name, Susan knew that he must have led a sheltered existence thus far, and for that reason she concluded that the boy was still a virgin. However, if she were to have her way about it (and she would!), he was not going to be a virgin for long!

   Susan closed the door behind her and, as he was gazing uncomfortably around the house, she said to him, “Oh, me, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Susan.” He turned around to face her, and she stuck out her hand. He examined her hand for a brief moment, then he took her hand in his and introduced himself: “My name is Brian.”

   “Hello, Brian,” Susan said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

   “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Brian said politely.

   Susan took her hand away from his and asked, “Would you like something to drink, Brian?”

   “Yes, I would.” Brian nodded his head firmly. “Thank you.”

   “Would soda be all right?”

   “Yeah,” Brian replied, nodding again, “that’ll be okay.”

   “All right,” Susan smiled sweetly at him. “Go ahead and sit down. Make yourself at home.”

   Brian grinned himself. “Okay.”

   Brian sat down in the living room—in, ironically, the exact same chair where Susan’s husband Buster sat the night she overheard him and his drinking buddy Sal ridiculing her—as Susan went into the kitchen that was adjacent to the living room to fix their sodas. As she was fixing their drinks, she called out to Brian from the kitchen, “So, Brian, how old are you?”

   “I’m eighteen,” he called back.

   “Are you still in school or have you graduated or are you going to college?”

   “No, I’ll be graduating from high school a couple of months from now.”

   “What are you going to do after you graduate?”

   “My mom and dad want me to go to college and learn a trade so I won’t be a bum.”

   Susan came back into the living room carrying two glasses of soda, one of which she graciously handed to Brian.

   “Thank you, ma’am,” Brian said in his polite manner, taking the glass from her.

   “Oh, please, call me Susan,” she told him as she started to walk over to the couch at the other end of the room to sit down. “Ma’am makes me sound like an old woman.”

   “Okay . . . Susan,” Brian said before taking a sip of his drink.

   Brian didn’t say anything else to Susan as he was gazing down towards the floor. He was so shy he couldn’t even look her in the eye. Susan found this adorable. She continued to sit and stare at him as they both sipped on their sodas. Finally, Susan asked Brian, her sultry voice returning, “Do I make you uncomfortable, Brian?”

   Brian nearly spit out his mouthful of soda. “Uh . . . no, ma’am, uh, I mean, Susan,” he stammered back at her. “Not at all.”

  “Really?” Her eyes slowly panned down to his crotch, which she noticed was bulging out just a little bit more than it was when he walked in her house. She gazed back up at his face and caught him staring lewdly at her chest. She looked down and saw what he was staring at: Her silver dollar nipples were sticking out in plain view from the flimsy white T-shirt she was wearing. It had gotten to the point where she didn’t bother fixing herself up anymore, not since she had found out from her friend Tracy that Buster was fooling around on her with younger, and presumably slimmer, girls. She started lounging around the house in baggy sweatpants and old T-shirts wearing no makeup and no underwear partly because it was more comfortable for her and less restrictive than regular clothing given her abundant weight gain of the past few months but mostly because she no longer gave a damn about her appearance or just about everything else in her life, for that matter, and that included her pregnancy. The way she figured it, if her own husband didn’t seem to care about something they’d worked so hard for and tried for so long to achieve, then why should she? But she had a strong feeling that Brian would change her nonchalant attitude towards her pregnancy and life in general.