force her to jump up and leave the stage…
When she stood, suddenly, he could hardly believe it. She was saying something to the man next to her, but she was too far away for him to observe the expression on her face. He sat up straight in his chair. Was she leaving? It was a gamble, but if she were she would have to use the alley. He stood, moved out into the aisle and walked outside to the front of the building. She would have to come this way, and his car was parked not fifty feet down the street. He tensed and waited…
'Pardon me,' he smiled, 'but don't I know you?'
'Phillip! My God… Phillip!' Dianne exclaimed. She broke into a broad smile and bounded toward him.
The greeting surprised him. He caught her in his arms, held her for a moment, then backed off.
'Oh, Phillip… how wonderful to see you. How've you been? What're you doing here? God… I'm so glad to see you…'
Again, he was taken aback. He'd expected anything but this type of salutation from her. His own smile burst forth uncontrollably.
'I came to learn what your husband has to offer the voting public,' he lied. 'But when you left the dais I thought there might be a chance of saying hello… for old time's sake.'
Dianne looked at him for a long moment, her expression warm and receptive, then, she dropped her eyes consciously.
'I-I wasn't feeling well,' she said. 'These campaigns are kind of rough on a girl, you know…'
'I should imagine.'
'I was just going home…'
'Can I drive you?' he asked in that straight-forward manner she remembered so well, the slightest of smiles playing around his thin, sensitive month. 'For old times sake, that is.'
She had been about to refuse until he'd used the last phrase. The warmth of his very presence caused the smile to well up from deep inside her. She couldn't have refused, even had Mark been standing beside her.
'I'd love it,' she said.
He led her to his ancient vehicle and held the door, apologizing for its humbleness meaningfully, then hustled around to the other side before she had a chance to change her mind. His brain swirled. He couldn't believe that it had come off so well, that she would've been so receptive to him. But then, why not? Pity on her part. Reveling in her luxuries, why not drip a little charm and pity on the childhood sweetheart… the ex-boyfriend… the almost, but never quite, lover? Kicks!
He drove, his eyes glued to the street, a waxed smile stiffening his face. She seemed filled with elation at their meeting, damned near drenching him in her sympathetic, pretentious joy… or was it sympathetic guilt for what she had done to him backing up and overflowing in her…? God knows, she must have known some feelings of remorse… or did she?
Well, it made no difference to him one way or the other! He'd formulated his plans should he ever again get her alone, months ago. The idea of such an occurrence happening had been as farfetched as he himself running for state senator; yet, he had provided for it, planned it, and dreamed of the actual occasion time and time again.
It was here! Now! At hand! His steeped brain fell into automatic function.
'Where are you going?' she questioned calmly. 'This isn't the way to Coleman Hill.'
'I know. I have something I want to show you.'
'Out here? We're out of town, Phillip. This road leads to the river…'
'That's right,' he smiled over at her. 'It took me a time to find it, myself. I come out here often and sit quietly. I look around and think of you… Remember…'
'Ph-Phillip,' she said in an alarmed voice as he turned off on a side, dirt tributary. 'Y-You're frightening me…?'
'Really?' He turned again on a second side road, suddenly coming into a clearing that overlooked the bank of the near dry riverbed. He jerked the keys, pocketed them and stepped out into the warm night. 'I can't imagine why.'
She watched him reach into the back seat, retrieve a blanket, then walk away with it to a large-limbed shadow of a tree. Inside her, a hollowness had begun to form as she studied his decided movements, watched him spread the blanket and his silhouette move toward her side of the car. When he was close enough, she saw his smile… cold and determined.
'Phillip…?'
'I thought you'd like to see where I come everyday to think about you,' he said levelly, almost menacingly. 'Sit with me, perhaps… or even lay with me…'
'Phillip… please…'
'Get out, whore,' he said. He jerked the door open.
'Phillip… Darling… no, please…?'
'Get out! Get out, or I'll pull you out!' he spat sharply.
Dear God! Dianne gasped within herself. It's come to this… He intended to have her… to rape her if necessary. There was no question about that…! And God, could she blame him? After what she'd done to him? But this was not the point in question! How could she make him under…?
'Goddamn you! Get out of that car before I drag you by the hair!' he suddenly screamed at her.
She did. She walked to the blanket and lowered herself down to it. He followed close behind her and dropped less than an inch away from her. His body touched hers. She could hear his heavy breathing.
'You know what I want,' he said. 'I want what's left of that marriage-bed cunt I spent a young lifetime waiting for. Then, you can go back to your fink of a husband.'
'Phil…'
'Shut up! I-I just want to know for certain that what I waited for wasn't worth it…'
'Oh God, Phillip,' Dianne moaned. 'Oh, my God…!'
He clutched her to him suddenly, his tongue splurting into her mouth, crushing her breasts against his chest, his hands smoothing over her back and hips. He lay over until he was prostrate on his back, pulling her on top of him and his long, sinewy hands moved down over the rounded orbs of her buttocks, hauling her into him, then down the backs of her thighs and back up to repeat the performance.
She whimpered loudly as she returned his kisses, grinding her pelvis against his and feeling his hardness there, her breath catching in her throat at the uncontrollable passion welling up inside her.
'Oh God, my darling!' she groaned into his mouth.
'I'm going to fuck you!' he said.
'No… no,' she bleated. 'You can't, Darling. You can't!'
'Why?' he hissed at her.
'Because… because, you're the only thing I have left to believe in!' she whimpered feebly. 'You're my God of purity…'
'Oh… go to hell!' he blurted. He shoved her off him, arose to his knees and ripped his pants open. In a flash, his prick leaped out, long, thick and ugly, jutting forth in its upward arch and jerking savagely in its need. 'There's your God of whatever you call it! Now… you either take your clothes off or I'll tear them off… because I'm going to fuck you tonight… willingly, or otherwise!'
Dianne felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight of his member made her want to grasp it and love it, but she was not yet free to do that. Her vows bound her. She couldn't drag him… her own Phillip, down to the degradation she had sunk to. Dear God, how could she make him understand?
'Please, my darling…?' she begged… and then he was on top of her, ripping at her clothes.
She felt her dress bunched up beyond her waist and her flimsy nylon panties ripped away. She even tried to fight the joy she felt as he brutally climbed between her legs, forcing them wide apart until her sparsely haired loins were made helplessly available to him. And then, she felt his hands at the lips of her cunt, not brutal, but not tender either, and she felt her whole being lurch at the initial contact of the turgid head of his prick with the moist, soft delicate flesh; she knew there was nothing more to say… He was going to fuck her… and dear God, she wanted him to! Oh, how she wanted him to!
'Oh no, Darling, no!' she moaned in confusion. 'Not this way… please?'
'Go to hell, you bitch!' he snarled, pushing her legs back and flicking his raging cock against the smooth,
