The Necklace - The Dusky Club, June 1962 by Linda S Rice (highly illogical behavior txt) 📕

She struggled against him for only a moment before surrendering to her own lust and wrapping her legs around him as he rode her, trying to find pleasure in what he was doing. He soon reached his release, collapsing on top of her, panting, and then pushed up on his elbows to look down at her. It had happened so quickly that there had been no pleasure for her. Their eyes met.

“Well, madam?” he asked, his chest slightly heaving from the exertion. “Have you learned your lesson not to cross me then?”

She stared back at him, stunned at his words, waiting for an apology for his cruel remarks and for what he’d just forcefully done to her, but it didn’t come. It was as if he didn’t even remember saying the cruel words or didn’t want to admit saying them.

“Well, have you?” he asked, pinning her wrists painfully to the ground and boring his eyes into hers.

Tears burned behind her eyes, and she fought to hold them back. “You’re hurting me!”

“Then answer me, damn you!”

He was scaring her. She didn’t know what to say. Her heart was beating wildly, and her breathing was fast and shallow. When the pain in her wrists became unbearable, she capitulated.

“Yes...yes, I’ve learned my lesson.”

She was shaking. Something was very, very wrong about this!

He rolled off her onto his back and tucked her head into the area just below his shoulder. His arm came around her and pulled her close.

“Good…as you should have. Keep it in mind for the future.”

She could feel him relax against her and his breathing become slower. He trailed his fingers up and down her arm then ran them softly through her hair, kissing the top of her head. She felt frozen and confused, and shocked.

She knew that in the past, before the women’s movement in the late 60’s, that men would often use sex to punish a woman even though it wasn’t something that was acknowledged or spoken of. But she never imagined James would do such a thing to her.

She flinched when he pulled her closer against him.

“I do love you,” he whispered, continuing to touch her gently until he sensed she had relaxed.

But she wasn’t relaxed. Her eyes were squeezed shut but felt as if they were wide open. Open to some indescribable feeling that was playing havoc in the pit of her stomach. She tried to gather her thoughts and make sense of what had just happened, what he had done and said to her, but for some reason, it just wouldn’t register.

Every other time they had argued about something or James had been angry with her, she’d found a reason to justify his words and actions. Any excuse to keep him the paragon that he’d always been to her in her mind.

Why?

She was a strong and worldly woman of sixty-two years, not in body, but certainly in mind. Why was she so accepting? It wasn’t in her nature. Or was it? Had she deserved what he had just said and done to her? Or was she just trying to conjure up another excuse for him, a reason to love him still no matter what he said or did to her?

It was a sobering thought.

Her breath hitched in her throat before she sighed a few times raggedly, then flung one leg across him and wrapped her arm around his chest. Her breathing quieted. They both became drowsy as their heartbeats slowed back to a steady rhythm, and they fell asleep.

But, she hadn’t said, “I love you too.” She didn’t think she loved him after all…she was very torn and confused…

Ian and Lynn spent the rest of the morning and most of the early afternoon frolicking in bed, smoking their way through another pack of cigarettes, and taking cat naps. It was almost two in the afternoon before they tried to call James’s dad again, and when they did, no one answered.

“Want to take a ride out to the countryside?” asked Ian. “I’ve got a motorbike that’ll fit us both.”

Lynn sat up and said excitedly, “Oh yes! I’d love to!”

“Let’s get dressed and be off then.”

He hopped out of bed, pulled on his boxers and trousers, then slipped his arms into the shirt that had been lying crumpled on the floor.

Lynn got up and went into the bathroom, pulling a pair of jeans out of her suitcase, mentally thanking Marta and Mika for thinking to include them with the “Leave it to Beaver” wear.

They were soon on their way, speeding through Brighton's streets, then out of town onto a two-lane road bordered on both sides by trees. The road opened out into the countryside as they sped along, the wind whipping their hair behind them.

“This is fabulous!” Lynn thought. “I think I’m glad I came after all!”

It was an hour before James and Susan woke up, feeling languid and lazy. James’s arm had fallen asleep, and Susan had a crick in her neck.

During their long nap, Susan’s mind did its usual work to erase and justify all the bad and uncomfortable things that had just happened between her and James. She just wanted to forget the most recent, horrible incident between them and totally erase it from her mind.

She had convinced herself that she was the one at fault. He’d made it clear she wasn’t to be spending her money. She’d forced Mel into a situation to pay for her selfish extravagance.

Yes, she was selfish, just as James had accused her of being. Sure, she wanted to do something special by making a great dinner because cooking and making nice dinners was one of her favorite things to do.

But she had done it more for herself than them. She deserved his anger and what he had done to her. Didn’t she? Her rationalization made no sense, and in the back of her mind, she knew it, but for the moment, it would have to suffice. Here she was back in the past with her dream prince, and she knew she would make any and every excuse she could think of to try and keep him up on a pedestal.

“Let’s go take a dip in the pond,” suggested James, shaking his arm awake then standing up and holding out his hand to pull Susan up.

“But I don’t think I brought my bathing suit,” she said, not knowing if Marta and Mika had included one in her suitcase full of clothes.

“Don’t need a bathing suit,” he said, looking at her half-nakedness.

Instinctively, she reached for the top of her dress and pulled it together to cover her breasts. He reached over, and playfully slapped her hands away. His good mood had obviously been restored. She decide to go along with it.

“Leave it,” he said, quirking a smile. He grabbed her hand, and they ran down the path together, her bare breasts bouncing, the necklace between them. They were laughing and, for all intents and purposes, back in perfect harmony again, the recent storm all but forgotten.

When they reached the pond, James stripped off his clothes and dove out into the middle. Susan quickly followed. They both surfaced together and embraced, their feet barely touching the bottom. As Susan pressed her bare breasts against his chest, she could feel James’s manhood spring into life again against her thigh. She smiled at him wickedly, wrapping her legs around his waist and lowering herself onto him. He threw his head back and moaned, then grabbed her bottom and moved her up and down on top of him.

“You are truly shameless, madam,” he said, crushing his lips down on hers. Small waves rippled around them.

“You make me that way,” she whispered huskily into his ear.

“Ah, just as I thought,” he said to himself. “It’s me that makes her this way...”

It was about a half-hour later that Ian and Lynn rode into Little Dippington. Ian stopped the motorbike and turned his head over his shoulder, and said, “Want to stop here or want to keep going? James’s Auntie Annabelle lives just a few minutes down the road. We could stop and say hello. James and your friend might even be there. I got the feeling James’s dad wasn't completely honest as to where they were.”

“Let’s go on to Auntie Annabelle’s then,” she said.

A short time later, they turned off the road onto the lane leading up to the cottage. Ian spotted James’s car in front.

“Looks like we found them!”

“Thank God!” said Lynn, getting off the back of the motorbike.

They walked up to the front door together and knocked. There was no answer. Ian tried the handle to the door. It was unlocked. They both went inside, Lynn calling out Susan’s name.

There was no one in the kitchen or lounge. The door to the bedroom was open, and the bed was made up neatly. A fluffy black and white cat was sleeping on the foot of the bed.

“Checkers!?” exclaimed Lynn. The cat looked exactly like Susan’s cat she had in the future.

The cat looked up at her.

“No, that’s Buttons. She’s Auntie Annabelle’s cat,” said Ian.

“Mrow,” said Buttons.

Ian went upstairs. There was no one there either.

“They must have gone for a walk or something,” said Ian. “Let’s go look up by the big tree. James said he used to spend a lot of time here when he was young, sitting up under the tree.”

Lynn slipped her hand into his, and they went out of the cottage up the path to the big tree. There was no one there either.

“I think James mentioned a pond or something down that part of the path,” Ian said, pointing. They began walking in the direction of the pond, but halfway down the path, they both stopped and looked at each other, a bemused expression on both of their faces.

“I think we’ve found them,” said Ian with a smirk on his face.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Lynn, her face turning bright pink as she heard the unmistakable sounds of an erotic encounter coming from where the pond must be. She turned around and headed back up the path, Ian close behind her.

“Hmmmm...what now?” she asked when they were back under the big tree.

“I think we leave them to their privacy,” said Ian. “Let’s go back to Little Dippington and grab something to eat. I’m starved.”

They ran back down the path to the cottage, not wanting James or Susan to know they’d been there...even though it was doubtful they ever would...hopped back on Ian’s motorbike and sped back to Little Dippington.

James’s Intentions

Susan was out in the back of the cottage, looking around the garden and contemplating what she should make for dinner. They’d had some rolls and cheese earlier when they returned from the pond, but it was now close to six o’clock, and she figured James would be hungry again.

He was at the piano, dabbling with the “All My Kisses” song when she came in the back door with a large zucchini and some onions in her arms. Every time she heard the song's opening notes, she gave a start as if hit with an electrical shock. That particular song had always affected her that way. Hearing it being written was certainly a novel experience, but she still felt the electrical shock every time he started the song over.

“Close your eyes while I touch you…

You know how I love you…

Remember me while you’re away…

And then while you are gone…

I will try to go on…

And send all my kisses your way.”

She