She couldn’t deny the fact she was all for it. After all, it had once been the Three Amigos, Tiger, Cutter and herself. Even though she’d heard all about his suspicious activities since he’d retired from piloting, he still had that sort of Robin Hoodesque reputation, shaking down rich business people, muscling in on the freight operations at Von Braun Spaceport, and smuggling contraband from Mars. He even answered to his real name, Odell. And with everything going on at home, it was just nice to see an old friend.
Looking back now, she never realized how lonely and down she was at the time. Chris had retreated into his own little bubble of self-isolation, immersing himself in his job. Her father had died just a few years earlier, and her mom had gone steadily downhill afterward. Her siblings were flung to the four corners of Sol; they’d all drifted apart once they’d reached adulthood. One worked in the research labs of Luna Seven; another worked in a factory on Mars, the third worked in the orbital shipyards floating high above Earth. She hadn’t seen any of them in over a year. And the one man she’d desperately needed as a friend had deep-spaced upon hearing she’d gotten married, living in self-imposed exile somewhere out among the ‘Roids.
It was the brewing of the perfect storm.
As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely. She began to notice Cutter looking at her in a way he’d never looked at her before. Or maybe he had, and she’d just never paid any attention. Her alarm bells went off immediately, but by this time, the wine had weakened her defenses. It was a combination for disaster, him looking too damned handsome and her feeling unappreciated with more than just a little self-pity mixed in. It wasn’t long before the stolen glances became stealthy smiles. She hated to admit it, but it had excited her, the silent flirting and the unspoken attraction, the sparks passing unseen between the two. All while the others cackled and gossiped, unaware of what was going on right under their noses.
Still, even though she found it all exhilarating after the months of stress in her steadily deteriorating marriage, she never really thought it would ever go as far and as fast as it did. When the others got up to leave, she lingered behind, staying for one last nightcap. After all, it was an old friend she hadn’t seen in forever.
She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but the danger was such a turn-on. For the first time in months, she felt alive. It was harmless fun, she told herself. She knew where the line was. As long as she didn’t cross the line, everything was fine. That was all that mattered. Just don’t cross the line.
However, as the alcohol, the loneliness, and the hormones kicked in, the line began to blur. Things became less clear. Even so, she kept telling herself she was ok, even as she followed him up to a room on the third floor. She hadn’t crossed any lines, not yet anyway. She knew she was putting herself in a risky spot, but hey, she was a grown woman. She would never let things get out of hand. She kept telling herself that as his mouth eagerly found hers, his hands roaming freely over her body, slipping under her skirt to touch the satin material of her panties. She was in trouble now, she knew, but she still had time. The line was still there, uncrossed and intact. All she had to do was say “stop” and walk out. Simple enough.
There was still time, even as he undressed her, his hands moving unfettered over her now naked body. By now, it was like being in a dream. Even as she got on her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth, it still didn’t seem real. But even as bad as that was, she still didn’t consider the line crossed. Only when he directed her to the bed and made her get on her hands and knees did reality finally sink in. By then, it was too late. There was no line to be seen now. He moved behind her, and she felt him at her womanhood. Any pretense of resistance was long gone, as she allowed him to slide easily into her.
He took her like a rutting beast.
It would be a torrid, passionate affair that would last for over a year, and she hated herself the entire time. Of course, there was the guilt she felt for cheating. In her heart of hearts, she knew her marriage had been doomed long before she ever began sleeping with Cutter. Nevertheless, it had gnawed at her ever since. She’d always wondered if she would’ve tried harder to make it work with Chris if she hadn’t been getting some on the side.
But that was only a minuscule part of it. The worst part of the guilt came from the fact that sleeping with Cutter was like a drug, a high that, once gone, left her only wanting more. Cutter was a demanding lover. There was nothing soft or sensitive about him. He was all about power and control. He was the total opposite of Tiger, who was all about mutual satisfaction and in tune with her needs. Cutter could’ve cared less about her needs. She loved the way he dominated her. She loved the way he manipulated her, the way he tempted her. He made her do things she never imagined she was capable of doing. Things only he could’ve made her
