She closes her eyes as the feeling of the lead weight in the pit of her stomach grows, the bile rising in her throat past the lump of tears that refuses to flow. Her soul feels empty. The feelings he caused her to experience that night draining her completely, leaving only her guilt.
She remembers the sight of her husband’s blissfully unaware face as he greeted her the next morning after her night with Travis, full of excitement at the prospect at how many people he could help on his next trip to India due to the unexpected donation, and how the feel of her husband’s gentle kiss on her lips set the guilt free like a torrent of water, hitting her and taking the breath from her body.
“Rebecca dear, are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Charles put his arm round his wife to support her. As the full extent of her deceit hit like a sledge hammer to the chest all she could manage was a murmured “Sorry,” as she ran from the room.
The sparkling clean plate slips from Rebecca’s hand and smashes as it hits the sink, splashing bubbles and water all over the kitchen, bringing her abruptly back from her memories. She turns and looks into the kitchen, empty apart from herself and her guilt. She slides down, unable to stand, like a crumpled mess on the kitchen floor. The flood gate opens and finally the tears fall.
What had she done? What unknown dark and dissolute side of her had he unleashed?
Like a small crack in a dam wall giving way, once the tears start to flow she cannot stop them. She cries for her poor beloved trusting and caring husband, whose heart is filled with enough love for all the children of the world. She cries for the innocent and naive woman she had once been before she gave herself to Travis. And she cries out of shame for the woman that stirred beneath, nagging in her ear; “You enjoyed it!”
With her body spent from all the tears, she pulls herself to her feet and wearily walks into the living room, catching sight in the mirror above the fireplace of the lost woman with mascara running down her face.
“How will I ever get over this?” she thinks, as she can no longer bear to look at her reflection.
She slumps down onto the sofa, grabbing a cushion and holding it against her face, trying to block out the world, and with an exhausted body and mind she falls to sleep.
____________________________________________________________________________
She is running down a street she doesn’t recognise, it’s dark and the streets around her are empty. There is an eerie silence and stillness in the night air, broken only by the harsh rasps of Rebecca’s breaths, as she flees from some unknown darkness.
She turns a corner and is faced with a passageway, with high bricks wall on either side. She looks up at the walls which seemingly go up as far as her eyes can see, there is almost no light and the dark shadows make it impossible to see the end of the passage.
With the fear of what is behind racing through her veins, she runs into the darkness as fast as her legs will take her. As she runs further into the blackness her vision is rendered useless with just the feel of the hard pathway beneath her feet and her heart pumping hard. With her sight useless in the blackness the smells around her are heightened, and she puzzles over the fact that she can smell the sweet scent of lavender in the air, but she keeps running.
She trips and falls to the ground, tearing the light material of her summer dress and grazing her knee, but she gets to her feet and keeps going like her life depended on it.
She rubs the sweat that has run down into her eyes, trying to clear her vision, when in front of her she sees the slight flickering purple glow of a light, a small ray of hope. She runs harder desperate to reach the light, it’s increasing in size the closer she gets but the passage is much longer than she initially thought.
She stops when she reaches the end of the passage. It’s a dead end. She spins around in a panic looking for the source of the soft purple light, but is unable to find it. She frantically scrambles against the slippery wet green bricks in a futile attempt to escape this hell she has found herself in.
Suddenly she stops, frozen like stone, a chill swirls around her body, her heart pounding but her body motionless. She can feel the darkness closing in behind her, but she is trapped with nowhere to run.
“Why are you fighting me?” His voice echoes around her head. Her eyes widen in horror. That voice cutting through her like glass. She closes her eyes tightly, her body ridged with fear.
He is standing right behind her, his warm breath caressing her neck. He pushes her hard against the rough wall, her cheek scraping against the coarse bricks, the feel of his weight pressing hard against her.
“Please!” She cries. “I can’t be that woman.”
“Which woman is that?” His hands come round her front and roughly take hold of her breasts.
“The dirty little slut that gave into her desire and let me fuck her married pussy?” His hand greedily rips open her dress exposing her bra forcing his hand under the material, he finds her erect nipple and pulls on it hard.
“You know you want to feel like that again, don’t you?” he whispers in her ear.
“Tell me!” he demands, making her jump with the sudden change in volume.
She can feel his erection pressing hard into her back and, as he pulls harder on her nipples, her mind has to fight with her body to stop it reacting to his touch.
“No!” she cries in defiance.
“You liked the feel of my cock deep inside your tight cunt, didn’t you?” He says, as he pushes his cock harder into her.
She lets out a choked breath as the feel of his cock pressing hard against her makes her pussy wet. How could she feel so terrified of this man, yet at the same time, be so turned on?
“I can’t let this happen again, I can’t be that woman.” She screams with the anger rising up inside, her breaths ragged.
He brings his hand down, lifting her dress, and cups his hand firmly over her pussy, pulling her harder into him, slowly running his middle finger over the material of her panties, the full length of her lips.
“If you don’t want to be that woman, why are you so wet for me?” His voice is deep and inviting and she can feel his words pass through her and pull at the lascivious woman inside.
Her conscience pushes back, trying to force that side of her back down to the dark depths from which it came, but as he pulls at her panties, making them dig hard into her pussy, she struggles with the balance of good and bad. The conflict rages deep within her, tearing her mind apart. She feels the pain from the material of her panties digging deeply into her pussy, the wall scraping against her face, the graze on her knee and his erection as it presses savagely in her back.
The good ferociously screams out from inside of her that she can’t do this, but the pain and his touch rouses the dark lustful part of her, entangling her emotions obscuring the line between pleasure and pain, her mind in denial, but her body relentlessly coerced into allowing her dark side to enslave her.
“I can’t give into you again!” she shrieks. Suddenly realising that her hands are unrestrained, she starts wildly thrashing her arms trying to break free from his hold.
He effortlessly grabs her arms and turns her round to face him, pinning her back against the wall. For the first time she can see his face, or at least the outline of his face in the muted purple glow, although strangely his dark hazel eyes are clearly visible and his stare bores deep into her.
“Can’t? Or won’t, Rebecca?” he questions.
Hearing her name pass seductively over his lips, a shiver of excitement roams her body, interweaving with the feelings of reluctance and unwillingness, increasing the blaze of desire that is now drowning her.
Mercilessly he kisses her passionately, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting down on it, she closes her eyes and moans, betraying out loud what her body was feeling.
The smell of lavender wafts into her nose. Its sweet smell rejuvenates the good in her.