Sexual dissatisfaction is slowly becoming one of the more important reasons for the breakup of marriages today.
In years past, the woman accepted her role as the submissive partner, oftentimes being denied the sexual satisfaction she deserved by an uninformed or misinformed husband who either did not know how to please her or did not care to. Consequently, the woman was merely a sexual object of the husband-a body-to be taken and used when the notion struck him, to be left unfulfilled when he did not desire her. Or, worse still, she was often brought to the brink of fulfillment only to be left hanging when the husband satisfied himself. More often than not, women of the past were sex-starved and neurotic, with no means of finding a solution to their problems.
With the thousands of so-called sex books on the market today, the open discussions on radio and TV, both the wife and the husband are becoming more sexually aware than they have ever been. No longer is the woman content to be merely a possession of the husband, nor is he content to accept or be denied love at the whim of the wife. They are learning, too, that sex is not a mechanical thing, a procedure to be learned like driving a car or running a machine. Sex is an expression of one's basic personality. We would hardly expect a mean, inconsiderate, ill-mannered man to be an ideal lover when the day's work was over. Sexual love is a body-soul expression of love. To love properly requires the capacity to give love, to accept love and to share love. The inconsiderate person can hardly carry out all three. Mostly, he takes.
A personality that has turned sour, for one reason or another, virtually guarantees an unhappy marriage as well as failure in other areas. And if not failure, at least a curtailing of the potential of one's capabilities. A person can become bitter over some aspect of life, a personal thing, and consequently become turned off in his sex life as well.
There is much to say about sexual maturity and attitude toward sex. Anyone, for instance, can learn the basic functions of the sexual act from a marriage manual. It will teach that person the simple mechanics of the love act, the purely physical functions, but he can never learn techniques. But to really satisfy a wife, a man has to develop the special technique that will satisfy his wife. Another man may have an entirely different set of rules to guide him. Women, more than men, are too often convinced that to enjoy sexual love is degrading, even sinful.
In this work, we see where these theories apply to both a male subject and a female one. Each has a partner who has not been properly schooled in how to pass love from themselves to their partner through sex. Each, in turn, is starved for sexual fulfillment, and because of this starvation, they are victims to the temptations outside the home, and consequently drawn to each other. Yet, while it is true that sexual fulfillment involves more than the physical, constant failure on the physical level can corrupt and destroy a marriage through the spiritual and emotional level. In this case, it destroys two.
We can pursue these failings on the part of the brother and sister to the inadequate or total lack of sexual teaching to the father, who himself is completely devoid of feelings for anyone but himself. And if we were to place the blame on the father, he, in turn, could extend it to his parents, and so on.
Although the son of the tyrannical father is involved in an illicit affair with another woman, this affair did not come about by some overpowering sexual desires from someone other than his wife, for she was more than willing to fulfill the sexual obligation of her marriage. We find the motivating force here more one of greed, to have something that belonged to someone else. His sexual performance with the other woman is as woefully inadequate as it is at home.
On the other hand, the daughter of the uninformed father finds herself viewing sex as something animalistic and dirty. Anything but the so-called normal sex is strictly taboo. She submits to brief sexual encounters when she feels there is no other way out.
Counseling by a professional, heart-to-heart talks and simple, whispered hints can very often be the solution to many marital problems that stem from sexual dissatisfaction. However, where there is an aversion to anything sexual instilled at an early age, it is a problem most marriage partners cannot solve. Nor can a partner alter a personality that has been warped from the time of birth. Unfortunately, our subjects ran head-on into just such problems-and ended up dissolving their marriages to find happiness with each other.
With one in every three marriages ending in divorce, it would be interesting to learn exactly how much sex had to do in the dissolution of these marriages.
The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Jeff Marston stood to one side of the spacious room and swirled the remaining third of his drink around in the glass. If mixing a strong drink made for a good host, then Grant Copeland was certainly tops. Jeff could hear Grant shouting at the far end of the room.
Jeff swirled the glass's contents again, listening to the tinkle of the cubes. He knew he was drinking too much. A fog bank was beginning to envelop him. But he didn't care. A man could hide in a fog bank when he was tired, or depressed, or hurt. And Jeff was all of those things tonight.
He suddenly remembered he was at a party, that he was supposed to be having fun. If loud talk and laughter were any indication, everyone else was having a good time. Feeling completely out of step, he downed his drink with a single swallow. A hand reached out for his empty glass. A good-looking redhead stood before him. She wore an extremely low-cut dress, and she filled it very well. In fact, some of her seemed to be pouring out of the top, giving Jeff a sudden urge to reach out and put his hands on the golden mounds. But he suppressed the desire quickly, and looked into the woman's lovely face.
"A thirst like that calls for a refill," the woman smiled. She sniffed at the empty glass. "Scotch and water, right?"
Her milk-white complexion was a startling contrast to the redness of her lips. Her eyes, of greenish cast, were filled with a teasing invitation.
Jeff nodded, smiled. "Your sniffer is in good working condition," he said. "Scotch and water is right."
"I'll get you another one," she replied.
He wanted to say that he did not want or need another one, but she was already moving away, her curvaceous hips swaying enticingly. He looked after her, wondering if that look in her eyes meant what he thought it did. He had told himself a hundred times that he was no longer in love with his wife, Maria, and if he wasn't, why not take a chance with this delectable redhead?
Peggy Copeland was the hostess. He felt a vague impulse to hurry after her, just to be at her side, be close to that exposed bosom and taunting green eyes.
He looked morosely at the toes of his shoes. He was a big man, six-foot-three, still lean from the farm life he had known as a youth. But some of the muscle was slowly disappearing after twenty-nine years. He was not a handsome man; his features were too irregular for that. However, he had a fine smile that started slowly and grew until his face shone with it. He had definite appeal to women, although he was never fully aware of it. Women recognized the drive in him, the fierce urgings of pure masculine virility.
Generally, he did not care to socialize too much and he had not particularly wanted to come to this party. He had looked forward to a quiet evening at home with Maria-until the Colonel had stopped by his desk this afternoon and said, "Jeff, there's another party this evening at Cope-land's. We've got to go to this one. But I promised Maria I'd take her to see her aunt this evening. We won't stay long. You cover for us, until Maria and I get there."
The Colonel commanded, Jeff jumped. He could not even take his own wife to a party. Rebellion twisted his soul.
The blonde sitting on the sofa across from him was trying to reach a drink on the end table. She bent far to her right, stretching out her arm. Her efforts hiked her sheath dress well above her knees. One foot came up off the floor, and the hem had nothing to impede it. Jeff watched the hem climb higher. The top of her hose was exposed, then a good portion of smooth white thigh. He saw the bottom edge of frilly pink panties.
Peggy Copeland came back with his drink. She looked at the blonde with a half-annoyed look. "Pull your dress down, Cissy," she said. "You're a big girl now."
Cissy shot a startled glance at Peggy, then reluctantly and wordlessly tugged her dress back into place, seeming quite hurt that she had to cover herself.
Peggy looked at Jeff, smiled a little and said, "Cissy's at the age when she feels she has to advertise a little more strenuously because of her inferior merchandise."
Cissy stiffened, her eyes flamed. "Well, really ... " she said haughtily. Now her eyes had turned into twin icicles that stabbed across the room at the lovely hostess. She got up and moved to the far end of the room.
"That didn't look like inferior merchandise to me," Jeff remarked, following the girl's movements with a look of mild admiration in his eyes.
"Oh, she's always showing her butt and it's getting to where it's disgusting. I don't know why we even invite her."
Jealous, Jeff thought. Women were always jealous of other women, especially if they were half-way pretty. But he wondered why Peggy Copeland should be jealous over this Cissy woman; Peggy had a lot more going for her than Cissy did.
Jeff's thoughts were interrupted by Peggy's words and her slight tinkle of laughter. "She knew you were watching her. That's why she started to show you what she had. She would have pulled that dress off if you had asked her. I know her. She gets a few drinks in her and little fires start up inside her. Look." Peggy dipped her head in the direction where Cissy had gone.
Cissy was sitting on a man's lap, busily engaged in nibbling at his ear.
"Maybe she's hungry," Jeff smiled.
"Yes, she's hungry-hungry for every man she sees," Peggy said. "Just thought I'd let you know about her in case you thought she had picked you out. Sorry to deflate your ego."
"You didn't," Jeff said. "Actually, I had barely noticed."
Peggy handed him his drink. "Oh? Well, then, forgive me. I thought the look in your eyes meant something else."
He looked at her differently then. He wondered at the weariness in her green eyes. She was a beautifully proportioned, full-bodied woman, and there was a sultriness about her that somehow fascinated Jeff. He shrugged and said, "I guess you know more about these people than I do."
Peggy looked about the room, a certain tiredness in her eyes that told Jeff she was not too happy about the party. "I know them all as well as they know themselves," she said. "I've seen them at their best and I've seen them at their worst."
She watched him drain his glass. She shook her head. "You must have just come in off the desert," she said, eyeing his empty glass. "Problem that big?"
He reacted with a quick flash of irritation. "Who says there's a problem." He thought she was referring to his drinking. "I can take it or leave it. This stuff has no hold over me." He rattled the cubes in the glass.
"Then you must be bored," she smiled.
His irritation was mounting. He did not want to be here in the first place. He would rather have stayed home. Sure, he had problems, but he did not feel as if he wanted to lay them out on the table for Peggy to examine and analyze.
"Oh, don't be so touchy," she smiled. "I'm just trying to be helpful. Sort of a hobby of mine. Also my duty to see that our guests are happy. That's the job of a good hostess, you know."
He looked away from her prying probing eyes. "I'm doing all right," he said flatly.
"By the way, do you know what kind of party this is?" she asked suddenly.
He knew it was a loud and liquid one. Every now and then, he heard a squeal or titter from one of the women and knew that some guy had put an exploring hand into play. But this party I was no different than the others he had attended.
"Just another party," he said. "Plenty of booze and food and everyone trying to make out with someone else's wife or husband. Tomorrow they'll all wonder if they did something they should be embarrassed about. Either that or they'll be trying to remember the phone numbers that were whispered into their ears." He knew he should not talk so harsh to the woman who was trying to make the evening a success. It was an insult to her. Everyone liked to feel their party was something special.
She smiled at him. It was a warm smile, and the tiredness in her eyes gave way to a moment of sparkling deviltry. "I'm sure you're going to enjoy this party. It's going to be a little different."
He wanted to tell her that that is what all hosts and hostesses thought. He wanted to tell her he could drink much more comfortably at home. He could sit in his big chair with his shoes off and really enjoy his drinks. He did not. He said, "I'm sure it'll be a nice evening. I'm sorry, but I guess I'm just a little tired."
"I'll get you another drink if you promise you won't pass out on us," she said. Then, recalling his touchiness, she added, "I'm just kidding. I'm sure a big man like you can hold his liquor."
Grant Copeland was behind the bar, mixing drinks. He was a fat man, his face flushed and moist. He had sensual lips, and the mass of his face dwarfed his eyes. Right now, he reminded Jeff of a perspiring, well-fed, happy pig. He did not seem to belong with the pretty Peggy Copeland.
She mused aloud. "My husband told me you were important people, and to keep a glass in your hand at all times. I wonder what that old walrus is up to."
Jeff did not know what she was talking about, and he couldn't have cared less. There were undercurrents in this room that could sweep a man off his feet. He wished the Colonel would come. And Maria. The Colonel would not stay long at this party; he did not approve of excessive drinking. When the Colonel left, Jeff and Maria, too, could leave.
Peggy's eyes were back on him. "No comment?" she asked.
"I didn't think I was important to anybody."
"You could be-to me," she purred.
But Jeff left the remark hang in midair. His eyes had caught sight of two people descending the stairs. He jumped to his feet, his face suddenly animated. He instinctively took a couple of steps forward, then halted abruptly.
"My wife and her father just came in," he said.
Peggy's eyes fastened on the descending pair. Maria stopped at the foot of the stairs, her gaze going uncertainly about the room, searching. She made quite a picture, delicious of line from shoulder to ankle. She wore a form-fitting dress, flaring at the knees. The high neckline was wickedly daring. The material faithfully outlined the proud thrust of her breasts and caressed the curves of her hips. Every male eye in the room swung toward her. She was a lot of woman, Jeff mused. But a statue-a statue of ice.
Peggy looked at her husband. He was staring at Maria in rapt attention, his mouth partially open. "Has Grant met your wife?" she asked Jeff.
Jeff frowned. "I think so. She's been to the office several times. He might have met her there."
Peggy's laugh had a bitter tone. "So that's what he's been working for. I wondered why he kept insisting we invite you." She exploded into laughter that seemed to come only from her lips, not from anywhere inside her. And her eyes were cold, unlaughing.
The sarcastic laughter followed Jeff as he moved across the room toward his wife.
Maria accepted Jeff's arm gratefully. Informal gatherings frightened her. She took a drink just rarely. Her need for protection should have made him feel strong and masculine. Instead, it angered him. The puritanical daughter of Colonel Drake, the girl with no vices. Yet she would wear a dress like this-exposing more flesh than it covered. A man could love her with his eyes-and many did-but no more.
Her father frowned about the room. "Grant said a quiet party." The Colonel was a short man, reaching only five-foot-five; he made a practice of standing very straight, trying to give the illusion of greater height. He had reached the rank of colonel during the Second World War and never let anybody forget it. He spoke as though he were still on the drill field, an illusion supported by his bull-doggish face. He condoned no mistakes from anyone. His money and position bulwarked his attitude.
Jeff grinned and replied, "Grant understated it a little."
The Colonel switched his frown to Jeff. "Have you been drinking?"
It was not unusual for the Colonel to treat Jeff like a small boy even though Jeff towered over him and this was one of the fool questions the old man was always asking. Jeff replied recklessly, feeling a moment of bravery. "Only what they've been putting in my hand."
Grant Copeland broke the tension by rushing up and seizing the Colonel's hand. "Colonel," he said, beaming and pumping the old man's hand vigorously, "I was afraid you weren't going to make it." He looked briefly at the Colonel, then let his eyes virtually play over Maria, taking in her full length with long, caressing looks.
Grant brushed aside Jeff's attempt to an introduction. "I already met your wife. At your office. Do you think I'd ever forget anyone as pretty as she is? What can I fix for you, honey?"
Jeff viewed Grant's attitude as bordering on mental adultery. He thought he might as well come right out and ask Maria to go to bed with him.
Maria glanced hesitantly at Jeff. He gave her no help. He was angered by her dress, angered that he had to be at this party in the first place, and now he was angered at Grant Copeland's leers and quite obvious demeanor. Maria looked like a woman made for love, but the truth was that she did not know the meaning of the word.
"Bourbon and coke," she murmured, glancing at her father. Then quickly added, "Weak please."
Grant gave her a knowing wink, then said, "Colonel?"
"Something nonalcoholic. My stomach's been acting up."
Grant Copeland was sympathetic of the Colonel's upset stomach. He had to be. Colonel Drake was his biggest customer.
"Jeff," said Grant, "introduce the Colonel and Maria around while I get the drinks." He was talking to Jeff, but his eyes were on Maria.
Obediently, Jeff led his wife and father-in-law around the room. He could not remember a single name. He did not care, nor did anyone else. One man was tracing a woman's throat line with his lips while one hand toyed with the hem of her skirt and the other rested on her breast. Jeff saw the disgust steal into Maria's face and he found himself taking pleasure in her look. He felt a malicious enjoyment in deliberately steering her about, seeking out couples who were amorously entwined. It might do her good to see how other women could loosen up, he thought. Thaw some of that ice in which she seemed permanently encased.
At the far end of the room, Peggy Copeland was waiting for them. The Colonel took her hand and said, "My pleasure, Mrs. Copeland. You have a beautiful place. Your husband and I do a lot of business together." The two simple statements were connected, the Colonel slyly letting her know it was some of his money that had made at least a portion of the Copeland house possible.
"I know," Peggy said. She and Maria surveyed each other, eyes serious in their appraisal. They reminded Jeff of two cats, circling each other warily. "I think he has hopes of expanding his business, possibly into another channel," Peggy said, and walked away.
"I don't like her," Maria said flatly.
"That figures," Jeff mumbled. "There aren't two women in the world who like each other." As for himself, he had trouble trying to figure Peggy out. He felt as though she were laughing at him out of some secret wisdom.
Sipping his soft drink, the Colonel frowned heavily at the drunken revelry in the room. Jeff, glancing at his father-in-law, figured he would be good for only another ten minutes or so at the party. The depth of the old man's frown indicated time was growing short.
His guess overshot the mark by five minutes. The Colonel put down his glass. "My God, I can't stand this noise any longer. I'll make my apologies to Grant. You two stay a little longer, if you like. There's no sense offending him."
Maria wanted to leave with her father, but he wouldn't hear of it. "It won't hurt you to stay," he snapped as he marched off.
Jeff saw Grant come out from behind the bar and escort the Colonel up the stairs. Glancing at his wife, Jeff realized how much he wanted her. God, how he wanted her. The desire raced through him like a surging tide. He twirled the empty glass in his hands, looking down at it longingly.
"You've been drinking too much," Maria said sternly.
Oh, damn, he mourned inwardly. She was in one of her critical moods tonight. She would condemn everything he said or did. That was typical of her, her pattern. Find something that irritated her, then work it to the hilt. Nice.
"Not half enough," he muttered. "I can still hear and see."
She pursed her lips as she looked at him scornfully. "I don't like these people," she remarked primly.
That was typical, too. She did not like very many people. Maybe nobody, for all he knew. Outside of her immediate family, he could not think of anyone she really cared for, not even him. At least that is the impression he got.
"Oh, they're just having a little fun, Maria. Maybe we ought to try it sometime."
She flashed an annoyed glance at him. Before she could say anything, Grant came back down the stairs. His house had a huge basement which he had converted into a virtual ballroom.
"Hey, Grant," someone called, "When does the real fun start?"
"I'm ready, if everyone else is," Grant replied. He rubbed his hands.
A swelling chorus of approval met his suggestion. Couples stood up and separated, some quite reluctantly-the men going to one side of the room; the women, to the other.
"We've got two newcomers," Grant announced over the subsiding din. "We'll have to tell them how to play the games."
One of the men, a pudgy, round little man at the end of the line, called out. "Put them on their own. They'll find out soon enough." He leered at Maria. Maria returned his look stonily.
Jeff thought Maria was going to refuse to join in the game. It was not like her to be for anything. Against, always against. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "You heard what the Colonel said. We don't want to get him sore at us."
As Maria reluctantly walked across the room, a voice suddenly whispered in his ear. "My husband told me you were real important. So I guess it's all right for tonight-and he gets your icebox of a wife."
Jeff whirled. It was Peggy Copeland.
Peggy looked at Maria, then at Jeff. Peggy's face was filled with a sort of indescribable glee, as though she were running a dagger into Maria's lush body.
The knife-point of perception pierced the fog of Jeff's liquor-fogged mind. This was no ordinary parlor game, he began to realize. There was too much hungry expectancy in the male faces. And on the female faces, too.
There was a heavy drama unfolding that Jeff felt helpless to stop. It was only moments, but in those brief moments, Jeff felt an uneasiness creep through him that he could not explain.
Grant Copeland had stepped to tine center of the room. "When I turn out the lights, go find your opposite. You've all had a chance to look everyone over so you should have made up your mind by now. If you haven't, just poke around in the dark and find someone." He laughed raucously, something like an asthmatic hyena, Jeff thought. "If you get a hold of your own husband or wife, start over." He paused for a moment, then added. "And one more thing, you people all know how we operate. So if you happen to get a hold of someone of the same sex, well that's the way it goes."
Jumpin' Jesus! Jeff had heard of parties like this. Key parties they had called them once. He never dreamed he would ever be right in the middle of one, though. His mind was fuzzy, his thinking the same. He did not know if he should grab Maria and run or just wait around to see what happened.
"Everybody ready?" Grant called out loudly, glancing quickly at Maria as he backed slowly toward the wall. His hand crept toward the light switch.
Jeff had a moment to glance toward Peggy Copeland. That strange glee was still on her face. She reached down and lifted the hem of her dress. She raised it slowly, deliberately. Jeff watched in fascination as the dress rose higher and higher. She had lovely legs, wonderfully long, beautifully proportioned. He waited for her panties to come into view. He seemed momentarily hypnotized.
"Jeff!" Maria called.
He looked at his wife. She was deathly white. He saw her body sway.
"Hold it!" he yelled to Grant. "My wife's sick."
He put his arm around her to steady her. They had not gotten into line like the others, having remained glued to the spot when Grant Copeland had begun his speech.
"Get me out of here!" Maria whispered fiercely.
They moved toward the stairs. Grant blocked the way, protesting. "Wait a minute, Jeff ... "
"Get the hell out of the way!" Jeff snarled.
Grant looked at Jeff's face for a split second, then quickly moved aside. There was a look of puzzlement and hurt in the contorted features.
They were half-way up the stairs when the hooting and derision began. Insulting remarks were flung after them. Jeff tried to sift them out, still wondering what had taken place, and so quickly. "Maybe he hasn't shown her what it's for yet," and "They're going home to ask the Colonel if it's all right," and "I was looking forward to having that big rod of his in me," and yet more.
The lights went out just as they reached the top of the stairs. Sounds of raw, animal passion floated up the stairwell. Jeff felt the insidious, demanding pull of lust, the inner passion come alive inside him, tugging at him, trying to make him turn around and bolt down the stairs. He heard a woman scream in abandoned delight. He shivered, a haunting kind of inner tremor that brought a peculiar taste to his mouth.
Maria jerked his hand. She did not speak. He moved out of the house with her. When they were in the car, she said, "You actually liked that, didn't you? You wanted to stay."
God, how he wanted to tell her the truth! The open wantonness intrigued him. A flash of a naked Peggy Copeland rushed through his brain. A naked Cissy, too. He drank in the sight of luscious, naked female bodies in that instant while he prepared an answer for his cold wife. He saw golden mounds with dark circle and raised nipples in the center. He could almost taste them. He thought of spread legs with hair-covered cunts and how the silky hair would feel to his lips.
"No," he managed at last. "It took me by surprise is all. I didn't realize what was going on." But his mind was entangled in a forest of female legs and buttocks and breasts and little patches of silky hair and he could almost smell the sweet aroma of the honey of love as he inhaled deeply.
"In your condition, it's a wonder you even had enough sense to stand on your feet. I saw you ogling that awful Copeland woman," she said furiously.
Jeff's calm demeanor turned into an anger of its own. "You've got to admit she's got nice tits though, don't you?" he chided. "Sort of gives a guy an appetite."
"Must you be so ... vulgar?"
"You don't know how vulgar I'd like to be sometimes," he clipped. "But I don't want to argue with you tonight, Maria."
She had needed him a few moments ago, someone to hang onto, to remove her from an unpleasant situation. He had responded. Maybe she, in turn, would respond to him, to his need. A slight tremor of anticipation ran through him. He knew talking about it would do no good, but he held her hand almost all the way home. Although there seemed to be a steady flow of electric passion from his hand to hers, there was no response from this minor gesture of affection; he consoled himself with the fact that she did not pull her hand away altogether.
He let her in ahead of him, then followed her into the living room. "Maria, you know I've never looked at another woman," he said plaintively.
Her expression softened. She traced a finger along his jawbone. "Yes, I know it, Jeff. I'm sure of that."
It was her first overt act of tenderness in almost a month. Hope sprung up inside him. He said hoarsely, "Maria." He reached for her.
She backed away. "Tonight has given me a splitting headache. I've got to take something for it. And the liquor on your breath doesn't help any, either." The softness had disappeared from her eyes.
He fixed himself two drinks as he waited for her to return from the bathroom. The anger was building in him again. She was always eluding him on one pretext or another. Headaches were number one on the list.
He put down his glass as the door opened. Buttoning her robe over her full breasts, she came out of the bathroom. He caught her hands and said, "You don't have to button that. In fact, you don't even need the robe."
She seemed more startled than evasive. Her eyes opened wide and she struggled to free her hands. "No, Jeff ... please."
"Come on, Maria, relax."
"You expect me to relax after what I've been through tonight? Never!" When she said "never" he knew the game was lost, for the word was coated with ice-and finality.
"Oh, Maria, for Christ's sake!" he blurted. Then, almost pouting, he added, "I have rights, you know. I could force you."
"Force? Hah! You go right ahead and try ... just try!"
Jeff had learned his lesson about using force on her. It was a total disaster. It had been like making love to a dead person. No joy, no satisfaction. Only dull, unemotional, mechanical orgasm that seemed a complete waste as the spasms were brief and almost painful. What was most painful, however, was the fact that she had tortured him for a full two weeks-to the day-as though she had set up a prearranged penalty program for him. After that, he had never tried it again. She had won. Any little excuse now was good enough to wave him off, to dampen his emotions.
Staring at her now, he saw her as she was ... a frigid woman. Until this moment he had lived in the misdirected hope that things would get better. Four years was a long time for a man to carry around such a burden. He saw now there was no more hope.
Yes, she had won. Triumph moved her face and it seemed to glow with the inner victory. "Maybe tomorrow I'll feel a little better," she said. She closed the door of her bedroom behind her. He heard the click of the lock. That was all he could ever expect from her-a promise that was never fulfilled. The house was suddenly stifling. He picked up the whiskey bottle, then put it down. If he stayed here, he would drink himself into a stupor.
There was a moment's hesitation as he contemplated his next move, then he bolted out of the house, slamming the door behind him. If she could shut him out, then he could shut her out, too, he thought. But she would not give a damn about his leaving. He would come back. She was certain of her hold over him. He wondered how a frigid woman acquired such confidence.
The liquor worked on Jeff's brain and his body at the same time. Whatever inhibitions he might have had, disappeared as his hardon began to grow in his pants. He could think of nothing but the king-size boobs of Peggy Copeland. And they were available. She had made that plain to him. It was just a matter of returning to the party and taking what she was offering. His mouth watered a little as he thought of how delicious those wonderfully large tits would feel to his lips.
Sure, Maria had nice tits, too, beautiful and full and firm, but what good were they to him if he could never get to play with them and suck on them like he wanted to?
"Okay, baby, keep everything you've got," he muttered. "I'll get mine somewhere else."
CHAPTER TWO
Jeff drove directly to the Copeland home and parked his car in front. The long, wide driveway was packed with cars. Apparently no one had gone home.
The front door opened and Jeff caught the silhouette of a woman's figure in the momentary light. Closing the door behind her, the woman stepped outside. He heard the click of her heels as she came down the walk. As she came into sight, he said, "Hi." It was a banal greeting. His stomach had suddenly knotted. A big drum pounded inside him.
Peggy Copeland stopped. "So, you came back."
"Hell, yes." He tried to say it lightly.
"What happened? Did your wife get turned off by what was going to happen?"
"Something like that."
"And you'd like to play?"
He wanted to repeat what he had just said but realized that it would sound stupid. Instead, he asked, "Would you like to go for a ride?" Then that sounded just as stupid.
He was not at all sure that he liked Peggy Copeland. She had a way of making him feel uneasy, unsure of himself. Then he remembered her legs-those long beautiful legs that he had been able to see so little of.
She said no to his question about the ride.
He felt like a deflated fool. He had thought her eyes had shown an interest in him. But this attempt at two-timing was new to him and he was not at all sure of how the other person should react. Maybe there should be a different approach. He rummaged around in his brain for something to say.
"But I'd like to go for a walk," she said. "I'd like to show you the grounds." She smiled a little as she spoke; her voice, a touch on the haunting side, vaguely like a proposition.
She guided him around the house toward the back, following a shrubbery-lined path of flagstones. The Copeland's had a huge lot, more like an acreage, and behind the house there was an over-size swimming pool.
"We could take a swim," she said, indicating the water with a casual movement of her hand.
He shook his head. Her tone said she did not really mean it. "You started out to show me the grounds," he said, his words strained against the tightness of his throat. The last thing he wanted now was to be cooled off by a swim.
"You might be interested in this," she said. She led him to a pergola at the rear of the grounds. It was a three-sided affair. Honeysuckle massed on its open-beamed roof. The moonlight came through a thin cover of diffused clouds, and the scent of the vines was heavy on the air. A wooden bench ran along the three sides of the arbor, and a barbecue oven stood at the far end.
"Nice spot," he said. "Do you use it very much?"
"We used to. Sometimes we'd have as many as a hundred or more guests but those days have more or less disappeared." The words were flat, but he thought he caught a tinge of bitterness in them. "It's so ... so suburban, isn't it? Everyone does it so the novelty has worn off." She sat down.
He joined her on the bench. He lit a cigarette for her. It was dark under the covering of vines, but she was there and he was well aware of her presence. Her perfume, mingling with the scents of the spacious garden, was strong in his nose. He felt the twinge in his groin as he inhaled the intoxicating aroma and caught a glimpse of the luscious mounds that protruded from her dress. Had he had the nerve, he would have reached out and put his hands on them.
The back of the house was dark. She said, "Some of them won't get up until morning." The pale oval of her face was turned toward him. "I drew Jim Howard." At his lack of response, she added, "You know. The little bald-headed man. He was too terrified to do anything."
Her bluntness was a surprise to him. He was not used to talking so openly about a matter of such seriousness. But he was grateful she had broached the subject because the knot in his pants was growing harder by the minute.
She laughed. It was a harsh burst of sound. "Grant was about as lucky. He wound up with Cissy. From what I've heard, she's about worn out."
Jeff was silent for a moment. "I've never been to a party like that."
"I thought as much. It showed," she said dryly. "Nothing's simple, nothing's honest anymore, Jeff. You're probably wondering why we do such things. Well, everyone wonders at times. Everyone has to find a hundred reasons to justify himself, find the answer. You were looking at a lot of reasons."
It could have been just a reflection on her part. It also could have been a challenge. He accepted it as the latter. He took the cigarette from her fingers and flipped it into the grass, watching the tiny glow as it landed some distance away. "I don't need any reason for what I want," he said, pushing himself to boldness. "Unless it's this." He took her hand and put it on his cock.
He took her in his arms. She came willingly. Her mouth was soft and moist and very hungry. This was not an acquiescent woman; this was a demanding woman. A man had to gallop to keep up with her. He kissed her savagely, trying to draw the breath from her. Her body melted against his, her breasts pressing against his chest.
He raised his head to look at her. She gave him a little smile. "Why, Jeff," she said softly, "you surprise me." She squeezed the stiff length in his pants.
"Sometimes I surprise myself," he murmured. His lips moved along her neck, down onto her throat. His hand moved cautiously to compress one breast, and he felt an electric shock run through his body. He tried to slip the strap of her gown from her shoulder.
"Ooh, you move fast, big man," she said. "Wait."
He knew a surge of disappointment. How often had he tried to make love to his wife and been denied at this moment?
She struggled out of his arms and stood up. "Men are always so clumsy about things like this," she said.
He heard the small rasp of a zipper. She pulled the dress over her head. He had been right. Her body was beautiful. He wished he had a long time to study her. A man could spend hours doing this sort of thing. And it had been so long since he had seen a naked woman. Too long. Maria had never let him see her except in the darkness of their bed. He longed to see her completely naked, lying beside him or walking about the room. Men liked to see naked woman much more than women liked to see naked men. Nature, that's what it was.
Peggy turned her back to him. "Unhook it," she said calmly.
He traced his fingers down her spine. She wiggled. He gave her hips a friendly pat and the firmness of the flesh surprised him. She had beautiful lines, her back tapering to a trim waist and the waist swelling into the fullness of the hips. He already knew what her legs looked like. He must have taken too long with his study, for she turned her head over her shoulder and asked, "Do you like what you see?"
"Yes," he said, looking down at her firm ass-cheeks. He patted each one lightly. "Very nice."
He unhooked the bra on the first try. She laughed. "You did that very well. You must have a lot of experience."
He almost laughed. His response was to reach around her and cup each breast and press his hard, hot rod into the deep ravine between the cheeks of her ass. He heard the long suck of her breath as she squirmed against him, centering his stiff erection securely in the tight cleft. "Ooh, you're so hard already."
"It's been about half up ever since I first saw you," he lied.
His hands moved down her sides in a stroking, caressing motion, then his fingers dug into the fullness of her belly. A low moaning started deep in her throat, and she threw her head back on his shoulder. Her breathing was becoming heavier, her body moving against him, then away.
With a gentle movement, he took her shoulders and turned her around slowly, holding her away from him so he could look at her for a moment. Then he kissed her lips, her throat, her neck. He trailed his lips down until they came to the swollen hummocks of her breasts. He lingered on them before going to the first nipple, and when he did, he heard her moans increase to a muffled crescendo and he smelled the rich odor of an aroused female animal mingled with the deodorants and perfumes of civilization. He sucked hungrily on a nipple, then slid his wet lips to the other and drew it between his lips. His tongue lashed at the rubbery knob and his teeth nipped at it.
"Ooooohhhhh ... dear-rrr," she sighed. "You're as good as I thought you'd be."
He raised his head and stared at her. A sense of triumph surged through him. He had found sex without the help of the Colonel. Everything else in his life had been arranged by his father-in-law, but this was one thing he had been able to do on his own. And he did not need Maria, either. No, he could do this very nicely on his own.
She opened her eyes, and that secret laughter filled them. "It hardly seems fair," she murmured.
"What?"
"The way you are-standing there with your clothes on and me like this. We don't match. Either I'll have to get dressed or you'll have to take yours off." She giggled at that.
Without a word, he stripped the clothing from his body. He was proud of his shoulder and arm muscles but sorry about how little use he had given his cock. He had always heard that a woman liked a big one. What a shame to have let so many years go by without some woman-or many women-enjoy that powerful piece of meat between his legs.
She ran her hand over his shoulders and arms and entangled her fingers in the hair of his chest. All the while she made a soft, crooning sound, so low he could hardly hear, but it was a pleasant sound, one of contentment. And a sound he had not heard ever, from Maria. It thrilled him. He was able to do something for a woman that genuinely pleased her.
His prick was stiff and erect, pressing into her. She writhed against him, making the torrid rod roll against her soft flesh. On the underside of his shaft, he could feel the silkiness of her hair and the warmth of her pussy, a steaming valley that exuded the sweet and exciting aroma of sex.
She lifted her face to him. It shone with a kind of luminous radiance. "Oh, I need someone like you," she sighed. "I was so excited tonight, thinking I might get to be with you, but then you left and I was stuck with that silly little Mr. Howard."
"Please, let's not talk about anyone else," he said.
"All right, darling. But I want you ... so bad."
A brave compulsion swept over him as he fondled her. "Do you like to fuck?" he asked, almost gulping.
"Oh, yess-ss."
He lowered her to the bench. The radiance grew brighter on her face. He dropped beside her, his hand immediately going to her legs, feeling the silken smoothness of the skin and the delicate texture of her pussy hair. He moved his hands over her as though smoothing a blanket with the tiniest of wrinkles in it, carefully avoiding the heaven nestled between her legs. He crept closer until he felt the tight coils of her hair brush the back of his hand. Then he touched the quivering lips and ran his finger lightly down one side, then up the other.
The lips of her pussy lay open, like the petals of the deep-colored flower, and he dabbed at them lightly, feeling their delicate moistness and feeling, too, the slight rise of her hips to increase the pressure of his touch. He probed at the hair-swept garden of her womanhood and entered the sodden sweetness with the tip of one finger. She gasped, spread her legs slightly, then bit his arm gently as he caressed the tiny knob that stood on the high plateau like a lone sentinel.
"Oooh, baby ... ba-bee," she groaned. "Put it in ... I can't wait any longer ... "
He crawled atop her on the narrow bench and felt his stiff cock against her delicious patch of hair. She reached down and spread the petals of her flower for him. He touched the torrid membranes with the head of his prick, savoring the delicious moment, then moved forward into the haunting interior until his shaft had completely burrowed into her. The world exploded in a blinding moment of raw animal passion then, a need for greater blending, when already the blending was as complete as possible. He could feel strange, sucking movements inside her as her inner muscles grasped him, caressing the shaft lovingly, then releasing as he withdrew and felt the entire depth of her as he slid out. Then he sank into her again. The tempo was slow, the rhythm perfect. She came to meet him, then let him retreat from the fiery furnace of her chapel of love. Her hips worked in a slow, circular motion, grinding at his probing shaft as he plunged in and out of her.
For Jeff, it was the most beautiful sensation he had ever experienced in his life. The four years with Maria were engulfed in the blur of his passion at this moment. He could not remember that anything had ever felt so good with her. But he could not dwell on the subject of his wife, lest he topple from the cloud of lust on which he now floated. He brushed her quickly from his mind.
"God, you're really something," he panted.
The soft walls of her love channel pressed tighter against his slippery spear. Her hips moved like a well-tuned machine. But she was no machine. She was a warm, loving human being, a female to the utmost degree, and he united himself with her, adjusting his movements to hers and answering her moans and sighs of pleasure with those of his own. He had the vague impression he had died and gone to heaven.
He did not know how long it lasted-a fleeting second, or an eternity. He fought the tide that was pounding inside him, not wanting it to wash him from his high mountain of ecstasy quite so soon, perhaps never. He wanted to continue in that mad, dizzying vortex forever, if possible.
His muscles suddenly went flaccid. He slumped against her. He shook his head as though the gesture would clear the haze from his eyes. His breathing came in ragged gasps. He felt a stinging fire in a dozen places on his back. Her fingernails had been busy. He rested for a few moments more, then began the slow movements that would send him crashing into the abyss of total ecstasy.
Then it came, like a rushing river gone wild. With the first spurt, he drove violently into her and heard her almost scream with delight. The hot liquid spewed into the chamber, virtually flooding it. Then a series of lesser spurts followed, each splashing into her until his movements made a soft squishing sound. Then he began the slow withdrawal as tiny spasms jerked his agitated cock a few more times. She was loose now, his sperm having spurted the cavern into a slippery, slimy river.
"Ohh ... man ... " he groaned.
She had ridden the same skyrocket, and she smiled. It was a true smile of fulfillment. She studied him through the smile, then said, "You've been a long time without, haven't you?"
He was embarrassed for a moment and turned away to wipe his sagging organ with his handkerchief. He wanted to tell her about his love life at home, yet he did not. It was an old line. A guy goes out and fools around because-as he always puts it-he does not get what he wants at home. He had never used it himself because he had never tried to get it outside his home. But he had heard other men use it. Peggy was too smart to fall for that one. Yet, Peggy was not just an ordinary woman. He had not tricked her into screwing him.
"Yeah, it seems like I have to put in a written request in triplicate to get anything at home, anymore," he said.
"You're quite a man. I'm surprised your wife doesn't want more of it."
"Don't ask me. I've tried everything I can think of but I seem to get nowhere. By the way, that bench is a hell of a place for something like this." He stooped to rub his knees.
"You nearly drove me through it," she said. She reached under and massaged the flesh of her buttocks. "But it was good," she added hastily.
"Cigarette?"
She nodded.
She arched her eyebrows, looked up at him inquiringly. "Will there be a next time?" she asked.
He looked down at her, then said gravely, "Of course there will. That is, if you want it." The hard passion was gone; he felt a tenderness toward her now.
Her eyes brushed across his, then moved away. "That's up to you."
He lit the cigarette for her. The small light touched her nose, mouth and throat. He moved the match lower so that the light washed her breasts, outlining them in a golden glow that sent a thrill racing up his spine. What a way to look at a woman built like she was! The breasts were standing erect, golden spires, with little shadows forming where they met her body. He bent and kissed the valley between them. "You're beautiful," he said softly.
"Thank you," she said earnestly. "You're built pretty well yourself."
"You referring to me or this?" He took his semi-erect cock and waved it limply at her. He was feeling more than brave tonight.
"Both," she said, giggling a little. "You want me to make it stand up again? I can help it along a little."
"I doubt if it needs much help," he said. "It starts to grow as soon as I look at your beautiful body."
"Especially my titties, huh?"
"Yes especially your titties. That was the first thing I noticed about you. They gave me an instant appetite."
"Yes, I thought I noticed you drooling," she laughed.
He bent to kiss one of her nipples but she caught his head in both hands and eased him away. "Wait, it's too hard on this bench. There are some lounges over by the pool. Let's go over there." She got up and stood in front of him a moment. Then she reached out and took his cock and started to walk away. "Come on, stud, let me lead you away from this awful place."
They found lounges and sat side by side, her head on his shoulder, her hand on his cock, gently toying with it as she talked. He, in turn, let one hand rove over her breasts, running his fingers lightly over the hard nipples. Occasionally, he would bend his down to kiss or lick them gently.
Her fingers moved, too, and he was aware of her tiny, caressing strokes on his cock and balls. His cock was erect again. Her hand gripped it, squeezed, then moved the sheath of skin back and forth slowly, her thumb on the slit on its head, feeling the tiny droplets which occasionally oozed from it.
Jeff felt at peace with the world. He thought of Maria only fleetingly, but without any sense of guilt. He felt completely justified in sitting here with a naked woman at his side, taking liberties with her body that belonged only to the married.
"Tell me about yourself," she said.
He laughed a little, shook his head.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"No one ever wants to know about me," he said, sounding glum. "Guess I'm just the dull type."
She studied him momentarily. "Don't tell me the Colonel has done that to you, too."
"What do you mean?"
"Stripped you. He's a dominator. He tries to beat everyone down to his size. It appears as though he's done a pretty good job on you. You sound so ... so defeated."
"I didn't know it showed," he said. "Maybe I should tell you about myself. Maybe it would help. Yes, I do feel defeated. When I first started in the building trades, my one goal was to be independent. I built my first house on a shoestring and it sold." He neglected to tell of the sweating hours, the tortures, the sacrifices, while he had waited for the house to sell. "I was a small builder when I met Maria, but I was growing. I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world, going to work for her father. He had the land, and he told me of the big things he was going to do with it. He was going to give me a free hand, he was going ... " His voice trailed off. Nothing Colonel Drake had promised him had come true. Maria was like her father. Her promises were equally false.
"So you weren't the luckiest guy in the world after all?"
"Hah! I feel like a prisoner!"
"You have to be born into that family to get anything out of Colonel Drake. Everything he has will go to Arthur."
Jeff turned to look at her. Arthur was Maria's brother. Peggy seemed to know a great deal about the Drakes.
He had said all he intended to say. "It's your turn now."
Her voice went flat. "I married Grant twelve years ago. That was when he still had his hair and his waistline. I, like you, thought I was the luckiest person alive. Two months later, I knew he was running around. But mother and father were divorced, and I had sworn that when I married, I'd make a go of it, I'd really work at it." She paused a moment, then said, "More?"
"Go ahead."
She sighed in good-humored resignation. "A man always has to hear the details of what makes a woman bad. Well, I tried. I shut my eyes to his running around." Her voice became harsh, like a wind suddenly shifting directions and bringing with it a chill instead of warmth. "Grant is a hog. He has a tremendous appetite-but always for something new. He's an expert at beating a woman down. Not physically. He's crueler than that. Have you ever been rejected on the grounds that you were no good?" Her eyes closed and for a moment she was silent. "You shrivel under treatment like that."
He silently agreed with her. His treatment by Maria fell into a similar classification. The lack of affection he had endured at her hands had its emasculating effect.
He said, "Grant is a damn fool."
"I could say the same thing for your wife," she said. She squeezed his cock for emphasis. "You know, Grant took me to a party like this four years ago. I can honestly say I didn't know what kind it was or what I was getting into. I drank so much that when I found out, I didn't care. I woke up in bed with a strange man. I couldn't even remember his name. Only the first time is difficult. After that, it doesn't matter. At least it's something different. And you get back your ego. You find out men still want you, if for nothing else but sex. But then, that's really all men want out of a woman, anyway."
He was repelled and drawn to her at the same time. The mold of circumstances made people what they were. Still, a lot of people managed to break those molds. He felt that he was accusing her and apologizing to her in the same breath.
Aloud, he told her, "You could have left him."
"I was penniless when I married him," she said. She waved vaguely at the house. "I like all this." Her gesture and tone told him she was not about to turn loose of any part of it.
Her naked body was against his and he felt the sudden tremor in it. He recalled the wild, explosive moment, and remembered the peace and release afterward. She had offered him that rare gift-thrilling intimacy without emotional involvement. He turned her so that she faced him. He kissed and caressed her breasts, and her glad response was evident in her stormy breathing. She had busy, active hands that in turn explored his body. He was gentler and more prolonged this time. A barbarian gulped a meal, hardly knowing what he was tasting. A gourmet nibbled and sampled, savoring each bite for the delight it brought him.
The silence lasted for a long time. He said finally, "You're quite a woman ... a real woman."
Her response was another squeeze of his cock, which she had been toying with all through their conversation. He wondered what was running through her mind.
She looked up into his eyes. "I want you to remember this night, Jeff. I want to give you something to remember it by. Stand up."
He got to his feet. She took his hard prick in her hand, drew him nearer. She ran her lips over his stomach, nipping at the flesh and caressing it with her tongue. Her eyes were closed and she licked his skin like an animal slowly licking a wound. Then she moved down, down until her lips were in his pubic hair and the hot cock was against the side of her face. She kissed the tip lightly, put her lips around the head and her tongue licked furiously over the bulbous plum. She placed her thumb and forefinger on the base of the shaft, then brought it upward, milking the viscous fluid from the channel into her mouth.
His hands went to the back of her head, his fingers entwined in her hair, tugging lightly, then releasing. His hips began to move in a slow rhythm as she let the bludgeon sink deeper into her mouth. She swabbed over the slippery piece of thick meat with her tongue, coiling it around, then dabbing at the head.
Then, when she had taken as much into her as she could, she let it slide almost completely out, paused, then drove forward hungrily. Her motions were rapid now, her head bobbing up and down on the stiff staff.
And the feeling of completion came to him, too. The tiny tickling in his groin increased to a demanding sensation that drove his hips forward and increased the pressure of his hands on her head. He heard her gag, withdrew the slickened rod for a moment, then plunged it back into her mouth. Her lips were stretched and wet as the saliva collected in her mouth and oozed out the corners.
Finally, he could restrain himself no longer. The earthquake between his legs rose to a shuddering height, was suspended for a moment, then exploded.
Hungrily, she gulped and sucked as the hot, gooey liquid spurted into her eager mouth. She did not swallow. She waited until his spasms had quit and he stood over her, his nostrils flaring like a stallion. Then she carefully took the spent cock out of her mouth and swallowed noisily.
When she was through, she patted the deflating organ gently, and said, "There, that should be worth remembering."
"Oh, man ... " He groped for the lounge and sat down beside her.
He felt the probing of her eyes. He had taken a long step on a road that could lead to nothing but disaster, but he was reluctant to retrace his steps.
Finally, he said, "I'd better be going."
"Will I see you again?"
"I hope so," he said.
She sat on the lounge, her knees drawn up under her chin as she watched him dress. She said, "I'm going to sit out here for a while. It's too nice to go in yet."
He finished dressing, then came over to her and lifted her chin from her knees and kissed her upturned face. "I'll see you." It was a weak promise, he knew.
"Yes," she said. She shivered as she watched him cross the lawn. He had been so gentle, so tender for a big man.
Jeff refused to accept a feeling of guilt. He felt good. Peggy Copeland had done in one night what Maria had not been able to do in four years. She had satisfied him. She had done the one thing he had always wanted Maria to do-go down on him. She had accused him of being a pervert because he had suggested it. He had even tried to go down on her, but she had clamped her legs together and called him vile names. To make matters worse, he had almost believed her, thinking that he might, indeed, be some kind of sex pervert.
As he drove slowly home, Jeff realized he had made a sharp turn in his sex life. Things would be different from now on. He felt completely fulfilled and happy.
CHAPTER THREE
Hilda Barry stood in front of the gilt-edged mirror, slowly stroking her long, straight hair. Occasionally, she would cast a glance past her own image to look at the Colonel, who was seated on the edge of the bed, dressed only in his shorts. He was looking at his middle-aged housekeeper with a look of mild admiration.
"You know," Hilda said over her shoulder, "I used to be a rather attractive woman, but I'm afraid a lot of me has sagged out of place." She grinned weakly.
"I like you the way you are."
"Oh, Haskell, you're just a big fibber. You know why you come to see me every so often."
The Colonel rarely allowed anyone to call him by his first name, but because he and his housekeeper had come into more than a casual friendship in her bed, he had given her the liberty to call him Haskell. He did not like it, yet he realized he had to concede her the privilege under the circumstances.
"Yes, I suppose you're right," he said. "But, of course, you derive some enjoyment from our relationship as well."
"True." She turned abruptly and faced him. She was wearing a simple cotton nightgown with nothing underneath. "I didn't say I objected."
"Come here."
Obediently, Hilda moved to a position directly in front of the Colonel. She stood straight and erect, arms at her sides, as though undergoing inspection. Although she had been giving him her body for the past several years, she fully realized her position as an employee. Obedience had been hammered into her the same as the others.
He glanced down at his watch, then up at her. "We'd better get on with it," he said. "The others will be here in less than an hour."
"Yes, of course." She reached down and picked up the hem of her nightgown and drew it up over her body, a body that was plum and full with huge, sagging breasts. A massive patch of black hair sprouted from between her legs.
Stiffly, the Colonel rose from his seated position. Without glancing at her, he slipped his shorts down over his legs. He walked to a nearby chair and laid them neatly atop his other clothing, then came back to the bed where Hilda was already waiting for him, on her back and with her legs spread. Her legs looked puffy and streaked with blue veins.
Hilda looked up at him. The Colonel's eyes went to her belly, with its thick roll of flab and its oversized navel, and then his gaze moved downward to her carpet-like thatch of black hair. The hair was thick and wiry, with here and there an occasional hint of gray. A gaping reddish-purple slash separated the gristle-like lips.
He moved to the head of the bed, his stiff little prick standing out from his body like an errant dart. He took hold of it and pointed it at Hilda's face. "We'll have a little of this first today," he said.
She reached up and took hold of his balls, a tiny sack that had drawn up tight against the base of his small prick. Her grasp was gentle as she drew him closer. He breathed heavily as she reached up with her other hand and took hold of his little rooster pecker. He closed his eyes when she brought her mouth to the dribbling glands; when he opened them a moment later, he looked down to see his entire cock buried in her sucking lips.
She was good at it. Her expert tongue sought out the narrow moat beneath his glands. She washed over the head, bringing her tongue up and over the scarlet knob so that it glistened with spittle when she took it away a few moments later.
"Is that enough?" she asked.
He simply stared as she rose half-way up and brought her mammoth breasts to his loins and squeezed the soft flesh around his cock, engulfing it completely.
"Someday I would like you to do it to me this way," she said. She moved her chest up and down to make his cock slide back and forth in the deep ravine.
"Yes, perhaps next time," he said. There was no emotion in his voice. Although he had started breathing heavily, he had a mastery over himself as he seemed to have over everyone else. A show of emotion, in his mind, would be a sign of weakness.
He put his hands on her shoulders and eased her down onto the bed. In a mechanical motion, he was atop her, his prick sliding easily into the rich, drape-like labia. He rammed all the way forward, and he felt his glands mash against the thick carpet of her cunt. The lips were spread so that a portion of his scrotal sack was virtually sucked into her yawning pit of her aging love cathedral.
"Oh, Haskell, you can't realize how much this means to me," she sighed, puffing and grunting as she tried to move her oversize hips up and down with his movements.
He lay like a twig between two massive branches, working himself up and down between the mounds of heavy flesh, stabbing vigorously, then slowing slightly to catch his breath.
"It is a need, my dear Hilda, over which mortal man often loses control. A satisfying of the flesh. Nature demands it, lest we all become frustrated neurotics."
"But you must enjoy it, don't you?"
"Yes, of course. It is very pleasurable."
"Then, why don't you act like it?" she asked, sounding slightly irritated. She was beginning to writhe and move about on the bed, searching for a passion that was almost lost to her. She grimaced as she directed all her attention to her loins. Slowly, her vaginal looseness was not as great. She had tightened the sphincter that surrounded her opening, the gates to the temple, and tight muscles were kneading his thrusting cock. He felt her squeezing him passionately, almost crushing his prick with her muscular power. She seemed to be milking him, trying to force out the hot gooeyness that would add to fast-fading passion. She added words to further excite herself. And him, too.
"Yes, Haskell ... that's the way. Oh, yes. Fuck me real good. Ooooh, yes-ss ... "
They came together. For him, it was an organized, expected end to a physical effort. For her, it was a way of reaching back into her youth in a whimpering outburst of moans and hisses. The Colonel felt her pull him against her, and he tightened his hold on the sweating hulk of her mammoth tits, perhaps fearing that his entire body might be sucked into her great, sloshy cunt. Their climax, although not as violent as it might have been years before, was still a fulfilling, pleasurable experience for both of them.
They dressed, and when they parted it was more like a doctor leaving the room of a patient than the parting of lovers.
* * *
Working on rose bushes was not Jeff's idea of how to start out a perfectly good Sunday. If only they weren't so closely tied to Maria's father and those boring Sunday dinners with the equally boring speeches afterward. Maybe if they could get away from the old man, Maria might warm up a little.
She had been the only girl in the family, and cute. Had been ever since she was a little child. Her mother tried to stop her father from showering so much attention on her or being so overly protective, but he had done exactly what he pleased. In the end, he had raised a spoiled child-in love with herself.
That is the way Jeff looked at it.
He had just finished his chores with Maria's precious rose bushes when she came out the door.
"You'd better go and get dressed," she called. "Arthur and Sue will be coming by for us soon."
He was dressed and standing at the front door when Sue Drake drove up. She had her son, Steve, with her.
Jeff strode over to the car. "Maria will be ready in a few minutes," he told Sue. He grinned at Steve and rumpled his hair. "Hi, big shot."
The boy grinned back. Three of his front teeth were missing.
Steve rushed off and Sue came out of the car and sat down on a lawn chair, crossing her hands in her lap. She had beautiful hands. Like her face, they always seemed to be composed. She was a small woman with finely molded features. Jeff could not remember ever having seen her upset or even mildly temperamental. Several times, though, he had glimpsed the shadow of hurt in her eyes. He had always wondered if she was really happy with Arthur. She had married Arthur seven years before, when she had been nineteen. Jeff enjoyed talking to her. He also enjoyed dancing with her. The last time he had danced with her had been at the club. He had been aware of her warm body against his, the gentle nudge of her hips, the hard pressure of her breasts against his chest. At the end of the dance, both had been aware of a vague, drifting chemistry that had crept between them.
"Where's Arthur?" Jeff asked. Arthur insisted everyone call him by his full first name. He detested Art or Arty.
"He'll be along later. He had business to take care of at the office." As she spoke, she stared at her hands, which had begun a light wrestling match between themselves.
"Sue, let me ask you something," he said on impulse. "Did you ever really find a place in this family?"
She shrugged, tried to give the impression of indifference. "You don't like Arthur, do you?"
He was honest with her. "No, I've tried to, but he's so damned suspicious of everything I do."
"He's a frightened man, Jeff."
"Frightened? What the hell's he got to be frightened about? He's the boss's son, isn't he? That should be security enough for anybody."
"That's his trouble. He's trying to meet standards the Colonel sets. He's limited, as you know. He's afraid that you can do better than he can."
"I never thought of that."
"I think they're all scared-Arthur, Maria and Tommy. They're all afraid of the Colonel. They're afraid that they might displease him in some way. The Colonel is a cold and demanding man, Jeff. You know that. I don't understand him. I don't pretend to."
"He's a hard cat to understand, I'll say that."
"I admit that it takes an effort to understand this whole family. Did you know the Colonel was an orphan? He grew up without affection and he never learned to give it. Maria and Arthur had no affection from him certainly. The entire family is afraid to give out with their emotions-afraid that if they opened up, they might be hurt. They can't stand to have their armor dented."
Jeff wanted to pursue the subject, but Maria appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a soft, green dress of linen. She looked as lovely as the morning. Sue ran admiring eyes over her.
"How does she do it, Jeff?" Sue asked.
"Born that way, I guess."
* * *
Colonel Drake looked into the kitchen, then frowned. "Don't overcook the roast today, Mrs. Barry. Sometimes you don't seem to watch it closely enough." The man of iron who had so recently been a man of flesh and blood was once again his old self-a stiff, unyielding marionette.
Mrs. Barry turned a flushed face toward him. "Yes, sir. I'll watch it very carefully," she said sharply.
The Colonel backed quickly out of the kitchen. He did not want to antagonize Hilda. Good housekeepers were hard to find.
Wandering aimlessly about the house, he repeatedly glanced at his watch. His offspring never arrived before the exact minute. And they always left as quickly as possible. He was never comfortable with his children-or with Jeff and Sue, for that matter. If he did not lead and force the conversation, there was always an awkward silence.
His thoughts sent a surge of anger through him. He had done everything he could for his children. And none of them displayed any real appreciation, any genuine affection for him. His eyes ran over the familiar furniture that he and his wife had shared so long ago. He wondered fleetingly whether it might not have been wiser if he had moved from this house.
A car stopped in front. He looked at his watch. Five minutes to one. They cut it as close as they can, he thought. He was frowning as he opened the front door, but frowning for him had become almost a permanent fixture.
As he ushered Sue into the dining room, the old man spoke roughly. "Why isn't Arthur here? I want to talk to him."
"He'll be along later," Sue said. "He had some business to take care of."
The Colonel replied with a grunt.
They all sat down at the table. Mrs. Barry served the meal.
Tommy, coming into the room, pulled his chair away from the table, then threw one of his long legs over the chair's back as he sat down. He was seventeen. The kid stunt did not amuse the Colonel. "Tommy," the old man rasped, "you stand up and then sit down in the proper manner-like a gentleman."
Tommy's face turned sullen. He nodded obediently.
After the meal, which did not pass without mishap-Steve spilled a glass of milk-Jeff took Steve outside to play catch with him.
Jeff tossed the lad a half-dozen underhand pitches, slowly and carefully.
Then Tommy came out of nowhere and speared one of Steve's return throws.
"Let me throw him one," Tommy said.
There was a queerly malicious look on Tommy's face as he flipped the ball at the boy. His throw was much too hard, even for someone more competent than little Steve. The ball hit him in the chest and knocked him on his back.
Jeff raced to the side of the fallen youngster and lifted him up to a sitting position. He massaged the bruised spot. Steve kept gasping. "It doesn't hurt, Uncle Jeff. Not much."
Satisfied that the boy was not hurt, Jeff straightened up and faced Tommy.
Tommy grinned at him. "Your coaching didn't help much."
Jeff strode toward the smirking youth. He seized Tommy by the shoulders. "You took out your anger on him, didn't you?"
Jeff shook the boy with all the strength at his command. Tommy's fingers pried vainly at Jeff's hands.
Jeff was still shaking Tommy when Arthur drove up in his new Jaguar. He looked at the other two and jumped out of the car, yelling, "What the hell's going on here?"
He ran toward them and grabbed Jeff by the shoulder and spun him around. "What do you think you're doing?"
Jeff's anger made his voice thick. "He deliberately knocked little Steve down with the ball."
"I didn't," Tommy yelled. "I just threw him one. He just doesn't know how to catch."
Arthur looked at his son. "Get up. And quit that sniveling." His eyes cold, he turned back to Jeff. "I don't want you or anybody else coddling my son."
"You stupid bastard!" Jeff raged. "Tommy threw one that could have really hurt the boy."
Arthur's face turned a mottled red. He suddenly took a threatening step toward Jeff.
Jeff's arm was cocked back when the Colonel appeared on the porch. "Have you two gone crazy? Of all the disgraceful exhibitions!" Maria and Sue rushed outside. Maria's face wore an expression of outrage.
"Jeff," Maria called. "Where are you going?"
"Home," he shot over his shoulder. "And I'm walking." He heard Tommy laugh. It added a few degrees to Jeff's temperature.
Tommy, the youngest of the Drake clan, was a paradox in himself. At home, he clung tenaciously to the standards his father set, kept his room immaculate, and obeyed every command. Occasionally, when he went to visit Jeff and Maria, he did a complete reversal, strewing his clothes about, failing to keep himself clean and, generally, being as rude as he could. Under those circumstances, he created a feeling of animosity between himself and Jeff. It was too bad. Jeff thought he could learn to like the kid, but it was becoming more obvious every day that the Colonel had already started the slow drain of poison into the lad.
Jeff fully expected someone from the Drake house to overtake him and offer him a ride home, but it didn't happen. He walked the entire three miles. Later that evening, he and Maria had a violent argument over the baseball-throwing affair.
"I know what you were trying to do," she had cried. "You were trying to impress her." She meant Sue and she made the word "her" sound like a dirty word.
In his effort to make her listen to him, he had pinned her against the wall. She had broken away from him and run to her room. Talking to an unresponsive door was the most unsatisfactory thing a man could do. Retiring to his own room in defeat, he had brooded over this new, disturbing trait in Maria. Yet, he had to concede that there was more between Sue and himself than merely being married into the same family. Perhaps Mar-la had seen something in his eyes that gave him away. And that thought in itself startled him, for he had never really thought about Sue as much more than a good friend, perhaps a little over affectionate at times, but a friend only. Sex certainly had never entered his mind when he was near her.
Or had it?
CHAPTER FOUR
Maria was still in her room when Jeff left for the office Monday morning. He backed his car out, glancing up at her window occasionally to see if she might be looking out. No such thing. Slowly, he drove down the well-kept street towards his office. It lay a block ahead.
The signboard to the left of the office building read, Indian Bow Retreats, Inc. The sign was almost as big as the low, one-storied building. There was nothing subtle about the Colonel's advertising. He believed in slugging people over the head with it. Underneath, in smaller letters, the words read, Happy homes for happy people. The Colonel was proud of the slogan.
It was quarter to eight when Jeff entered the office. Pete Austin was always early. The company's bookkeeper and treasurer, he was a vague little man, forever absorbed in his world of figures. Jeff's desk was in a rear corner, just in back of the salesman's section. Jeff's job was essentially an outside one. He rarely needed his desk.
Most of the salesmen's desks were empty. The Colonel had the same problem with his salesmen as he did with his family.
Jeff sat down at his desk, realizing that he had come in too early. He was too tense, too keyed up, to sit around and twiddle his thumbs. He drummed the desk top briefly, thinking of what he would do today, then got up and went out. He headed in the direction of the new houses, three blocks away.
He passed a carpenter and nodded. "Morning, Fred. Have you seen Hans?"
"He's over there," Fred said, pointing to a house three doors away. "He's packing his tools."
"He's what?"
Fred shrugged. "He's quitting."
The news was like a dash of cold water in Jeff's face. Hans Hustig was one of the best trim men in the business. He had been in the trade all his life and had worked for Jeff when Jeff had his own business. He was just snapping his tool chest shut when Jeff came up.
"Trouble, Hans?"
"Yah. I've had enough. I'm leaving."
"What's the trouble?"
"That young pup Arthur came by and told me I took six hours too long on the last house I trimmed. You know I don't work sloppy, Jeff. I do a good job on every house."
Jeff managed to keep his voice calm. "Unpack, Hans, and go back to work. I'll take care of that son-of-a-bitch. He's got no right poking his nose into my projects."
"You sure it's all right, Jeff?"
"You damned right it is, Hans. As long as I'm around, you stay on the job."
Jeff wheeled and started down the fresh new sidewalk. He planned to stomp back to the office and have it out with Arthur, but two quick beeps of a car horn made him stop. He looked to his left and saw Sue waving to him from the front window of the car.
"Hi, Jeff," she called out cheerily.
"Sue!" he almost yelled. "What on earth are you doing out here?" He walked to the driver's side of the car.
"Oh, I had nothing to do so I thought I'd come out and look at some of the houses. Arthur's been telling me how nice they are."
"Yeah, they're turning out pretty nice. Maybe a little more gingerbread than I like but that's what gets the women, and they're the ones who do the buying."
"Will you show me?"
"Sure. Glad to." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you the half-hour tour."
Sue drove him to the far end of the project where some of the finished houses were nestled under huge oak trees. She pulled the car into the open door of the garage. "May as well test it out to see if you've built it big enough for a car," she laughed.
Inside, Jeff went through the motions of showing Sue every feature of the new homes, but somehow, he felt he was wasting words. They seemed to have a hollow, meaningless ring to them. Sue was paying more attention to him than she was at what he was showing her. Occasionally, her hip would bump against his, and once, when he turned to point out something, she managed to have her breast in the way of his elbow.
Then, when he went into the bathroom to show her the new type shower stall being installed, she blocked the doorway when he tried to get out.
"Oh, Jeff," she said, falling into his arms.
"It's so good to talk to you and be with you ... alone."
Jeff held her close for a moment, then moved her back a little and kissed her cheek. Her body felt warm and supple against him and in that split second a feeling of deep, repressed longing swept through him. Now he realized that he had thought about this moment before.
She clung to him, longer than he thought she would, her arms entwined around his neck. "Oh, Jeff, Jeff."
"Hey," he said finally, taking her arms away but still holding her shoulders. "What's all this about?"
"I had to see you, Jeff. It's tearing me up."
Sue was a big-breasted woman and no matter what she wore, that part of her anatomy was always the most prominent feature of her tall, angular body. Dark hair, dark complexion, dark, sensuous eyes. Even now, he could see the cleft where her breasts came together to form a shadowy line just above her pale pink blouse. The blouse was tied around her waist, leaving her midriff bare.
"What do you mean?" he asked at last.
She responded by opening her mouth slightly and pressing it onto his lips.
For several moments, they were lost in each other's arms, Sue breathing hard, Jeff trying to get himself loose.
"Jeff," Sue gasped. "Let's talk about us."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"I don't care, Jeff. I don't care," she murmured. "I've wanted you so ... Don't spoil it now. Oh, please, don't ... "
"This is crazy," he said. "There are workers all over the place. Arthur may come along ... the Colonel. We could get into real trouble."
"I don't care, Jeff. I've waited too long."
"Don't talk that way, Sue," he said. "It isn't like you."
"Yes, it is like me. You don't even know the real me," she said firmly. Then she came toward him in a movement so fast he did not have time to stop her. She grabbed him around the back of the neck and kissed him soundly. "There, that's the real me. That's how I feel about you."
He made no move to release her. Instead, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against him. He looked into the depths of her eyes. The message was there, like it had been before.
"Sue," was all he said.
Her head tilted back, her eyes closed, and her lips waited for his. The pressure where their hips met increased.
She opened her mouth to say something. He closed it with a kiss, as fiery as before. She responded passionately, clutching him wildly in an almost brutal embrace. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat, then moved down to the cleft between her breasts. He kissed the soft crevice, then ran his tongue up and down in it. His hand moved to the tie on her blouse, unknotted it, then ran his hand up her bare back.
"OOOHHH, JEFF ... "
His hand went immediately to one of her large, firm breasts. He had looked at them so many times before and now they were his to fondle, to play with. She moaned slightly, their lips still glued together.
The loose blouse fell away mysteriously and Jeff wondered about it and how she would explain such an occurrence if someone walked in. But she was not worried. Her arm snaked behind her and undid her bra. He kept his hand on the breast until he felt the confining garment loosen, then he slipped his hand under it and felt the silken, warm flesh. His fingers went immediately to the nipple, found it already hard and erect. He ran his index finger around it, then around the aureole, the brownish halo that surrounded the small amount of excitement.
"Ooh, that tickles," she said, giggling lightly. "But don't stop. Oh, I've waited so long ... so terribly long ... "
"This is crazy. You know that, don't you?"
"No. I don't know anything. Oh, Jeff ... love me ... please. Don't stop loving me for a long time. I need you so bad." Her entire body quivered from the sheer ecstasy of the moment. She clutched him to her, crushed her lips against his, her tongue probing into his mouth in an urgent, frantic searching.
Her arm had been around his neck, but now she dropped it to her side and Jeff could feel the slight muscular movement that told him she was unbuttoning the top of her shorts, then the almost imperceptible movement when she slid the zipper down.
They edged into the bathroom and slowly sunk to the cold, tile floor.
He was sitting beside her, but leaning over her so that their upper torsos were pressed together. Her hand virtually flew to his pants and searched the area where his erect rod was stabbing against the material. She grasped the hot, hard chunk of flesh. A muffled groan escaped from her. Then she dug for his belt buckle, the top button of his pants, and finally, the zipper. Her hand plunged inside and clutched at the rock hard cock and drew it toward her.
"OOOOHHHH, JEFF ... JEFF ... I WANT THAT SO BAD!" She tugged on the throbbing cannon, then squeezed it in a fierce grip.
In a quick movement, Jeff lifted her hips and slid the shorts and panties off, both at the same time. He left the garments dangle around her ankles and she wriggled free of them, giving a final kick to send them flying into the shower stall. Then she relaxed and spread her legs wide. "Come on, darling ... I want to be fucked!"
Jeff wanted to pull off his pants, but now the situation was more precarious; it was time for Arthur and the Colonel to come to work. A few extra minutes might deny him the pleasure she promised him. He pushed his pants and shorts down over his hips, then got between her legs. Her hand was still tugging at his rigid staff, pointing the tip into the hairy nest that felt warm and moist. He thrust his hips toward her slowly, felt the heat of her box engulf him, little by little, accompanied by her slow writhing and soft moaning. Then he was into her as far as he could go. Pubic pad against pubic pad. He lay still, only twitching the tip of his cock deep inside her.
"Ooohhh ... you don't know how good that feels," she whispered hoarsely. "Oh, how I've wanted you this way ... "
"And I think I've wanted you like this, too," he whispered into her ear, then kissed it tenderly. "You're so soft and warm inside."
Then he began the slow movements of love, the inner probing to excite and stimulate, to arouse the passions even more. Slowly, he slid in and out of her, forcing her to come up to him, then plunging back into her, into the depths of warm, love-wetted passion where the greatest emotion of all made lovers love even more intensely than they believed possible. The tempo picked up. The warmth turned into heat, the soft murmuring and groaning to urgent gruntings and frantic, subdued groans that could have signified pain as well.
And then, in their crashing, blinding world where only they resided at this moment, the ultimate of passion thundered forth, bringing with it the flash of searing lightning that charged all the motor neurons in their nervous systems and spilled them into their united groins.
The flood of torrid liquid gushed into her, spasm after spasm bonding them together even more closely.
For what seemed an eternity, they lay locked together, their bodies spent, their open mouths gasping for life-giving air, recharging. The dynamos roared within each of them, building the electrical current that would soon torment them into yet another flight into the heaven that was sex.
He moved his hips back a little, felt her hands tighten on his ass. "Not yet," she whispered. "Once more ... "
"Good God, Sue, we've got to get out of here," he protested.
"Once more."
The movement of her hips was a study in a sort of prone adagio dance, moving gracefully at first, then rising to a twisting, grinding motion that made him cling to her, almost helpless. Then in a moment of flaming ecstasy, their bodies became as one, each movement anticipated by the other and responding like an efficient machine, a flaming rocket which soared higher and higher in an almost unending passion and whirling dizziness-and then the explosion, the jettison of the fiery liquid that seemed to have lost none of its intensity.
Sue whimpered, repressing a scream. She dug at his ass. Her body stiffened, held him in a vice-like grip, then she fell away from him like a deck of cards crumbling.
They lay motionless for some time on the bare tile of the floor, neither saying a word. Sue rose finally, pushing at Jeff's chest to get his spent body off her, and got dressed. Jeff groaned and got to his feet, staggering slightly as his weakened knees almost quit. He pulled up his pants and fastened them.
Reality came back to Jeff in a rush. He went to the sink and dashed water on his flushed face, raked his fingers through his slightly mussed hair. Behind him, Sue was getting her clothing back in order.
"You know, that was damned foolish of us," Jeff said, turning to face her.
"But good," she smiled.
He smiled wryly. "I could almost feel the cold barrel of a shotgun up my butt all the while we were down there."
She returned his smile. "Maybe you didn't know it, but I locked the door behind us when we came in."
"Oh, great. Had someone tried the door, that would have been a dead giveaway, especially with your car in the garage."
"It's not my car," she said softly. "I borrowed it from a friend and ... "
"Then you planned this ahead of time."
She nodded. "I had to. You never seemed to want to make a move yourself." She looked at him with a little girl look in her eyes. "Are you angry with me?"
"Of course not Sue, but we took an awful chance. I'm not the adventurous type when it comes to something like this."
"That's what makes it fun," she giggled. "Ready?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
Jeff did not get in the car with Sue, but walked around the project, as though on an inspection tour. Then he ambled back to the office. He had needed that much time to get his emotions calmed down. He went to the office angry; the thought of Hans Hustig's almost quitting causing the anger. The depth of his anger showed in the length of his stride. He stopped at Austin's desk. "Did Arthur come in yet?"
Austin shook his head. "Not yet. But the Colonel's in. He doesn't look too happy."
"That's normal," Jeff said. He crossed over to the old man's office, opened the door without bothering to knock, which was one of the Colonel's rules. The Colonel sat stiffly erect at his desk. "Yes?"
"Arthur's been jumping my men again. I just now had to talk Hans out of quitting."
The Colonel reached for a sheet of paper. "Did you see this cost report?"
Jeff drew a deep breath. "You promised me when I started here, Colonel, that I would have the run of all the outside work, that Arthur's job would be the figuring and ordering."
"You never expected criticism?"
"If I earn it," Jeff snapped. "We almost let the best trim man in the business get away from us."
"If you would study these figures ... "
Jeff's face set stubbornly. "I don't need to study them. I know what Hans Hustig does. Hell's bells, anybody can put a piece of the picture under a glass and prove that part of it is right or wrong. But you can't judge the whole picture that way, Colonel."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that if Hustig does take a few more hours on each house, and I'm not convinced that he does, his work more than makes up for it in other ways. How many hours do the painters save by not having to putty a bad-fitting joint?"
The Colonel looked at his sheet of paper. "That's not on here."
"And there's no way to get in on there. I don't care how many figures Arthur turns in. Just keep him away from my crews. Don't you think I know when they're not producing?"
"Is that an ultimatum, Jeff?"
"Take it any way you want to." He turned toward the door.
"Jeff, just a minute. Don't you think I know what's going on?"
"You probably do, but sometimes you blind yourself to certain facts."
"All I wanted to do was talk about this report. I know anyone can take figures and make them prove what they want. I want you to show Arthur where he goes wrong in his figuring. If we're going to get a true picture, we must be able to look beyond a narrow segment."
Jeff had said the same thing in different words. He was aware that he had received an unexpected vote of approval from the old man. He said slowly, "Arthur has never listened to me yet, Colonel. He won't listen, either."
"You two just don't hee-haw, do you?"
"Nope ... never have."
The Colonel shrugged, and said suddenly, "I want you to do something for me. Copeland overcharged us a couple hundred dollars on his last bill. I've sent Arthur after it twice, and all he brings back are excuses. I want you to get it."
Jeff hesitated. How did you face a man after you had had his wife sprawled out on a garden bench with no clothes on? He was aware that the Colonel was studying him. Then he thought of what he and Sue had just engaged in and he shuddered inside himself. For an instant he wondered whether his thoughts showed on his face.
He nodded. "I'll get it."
He stepped back into the outer office to find Arthur at his desk. Arthur was a tall, fleshy, broad-shouldered man. He had a firm, jutting jaw and a thin, petulant mouth. One feature indicated strength, the other weakness. His eyes darted about nervously most of the time.
At the sound of Jeff's footsteps, Arthur looked up. His face darkened.
Jeff had to fight a momentary inner battle before speaking. The thought of his bathroom sex meeting with Sue was strong in his mind as he stood in front of Arthur's desk. He took a breath to dispel his nervousness. "Stay away from my men. If you've got a beef, tell it to me." Temper flowed in Arthur's eyes. Jeff went on. "And you can confirm that with the Colonel." He moved away before Arthur could reply.
* * *
He drove to Copeland's office, the Copeland Lumber Company. It was a sprawling establishment, covering a square block.
Jeff went in, had a brief conversation with Grant Copeland, during which the latter invited Jeff to another of his parties.
"Do they all wind up with everyone ... ah, changing around?" Jeff asked.
"Usually," Copeland smirked. "Be surprised how you can loosen up the old sex that way."
"Do you, ah, have to bring your own wife?"
"Ah, so that's it!" Grant Copeland beamed. "You'd like to come but you don't think much of letting the little woman in on the fun, eh?"
"Well, I don't know if she'd go for that sort of thing, Grant. And if she did, I doubt whether ... oh let's just skip it."
Copeland looked at him and the look on his face seemed to be one of pity. "If you think you can talk her into it, I'd be glad to have you-both of you."
"You don't really give a shit about me, Grant, so let's quit kidding each other. You'd like to add my wife to your list of scalps. Right?"
"You put it crudely, Jeff. Let's just say it would be nice to have your wife at our next party."
"Thanks for the check, Grant." He turned and went out.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jeff returned to the office and gave the check from Copeland to Austin, who seemed quite surprised. He knew that Arthur had tried to get the money and had failed.
"How'd you manage this?" Austin asked, waving the check.
"My dynamic personality," Jeff laughed.
"Oh, the Colonel wants to see you."
Jeff walked into the Colonel's office, again without bothering to knock.
The Colonel greeted him with a stiff nod. "I understand you got Copeland's check. How'd you do it?"
"I just asked for it."
"With a little muscle thrown in?"
Jeff shook his head.
"He's hot under the collar about the lumber estimate on the new south addition. I thought Arthur had given that to him a week ago. Copeland says he can't put in his order without it. See if you can figure it out so he can have it in the morning. I'll call Maria and explain to her why you won't be home."
"I'll call her," Jeff said. "Are the plans and specs in Arthur's office?"
"Yes. He had to go out for the afternoon, so I'd appreciate if you took care of it, Jeff."
"I'll get to work on it right away."
The Colonel rose. "I've got to go. See you in the morning."
Jeff sensed something in the Colonel's attitude that was changed. His tone did not have the bite it usually did and it was unthinkable to admit that his own son, Arthur, had failed in something.
Jeff called Maria and explained why he had to work late and that she should not wait up for him. He went to Arthur's desk and proceeded to go through it. Each drawer was a jumble. In the last drawer, Jeff came upon a glossy photograph of a nude blonde.
He picked it up. The blonde was stretched out in a standard pose. With a self-conscious grin, Jeff put the photo back. He was surprised that Arthur went in for that sort of thing. He found a half-dozen more pictures of nude women in the right-hand drawer. Jeff gave fleeting speculation to the possibility that Sue might also be interested in the pictures. But that would be a dirty trick, he reasoned. He discovered the plans in the last drawer. Carrying the thick packet to his desk, he got to work on them. He spotted something wrong at once in the specifications. Arthur's lumber requisitions called for a house with a two-car garage. But the Colonel had not built a house with a two-car garage in six months. He had discarded the additional garage space as an unnecessary expense. The price of the house, however, had remained the same.
He frowned. How could Arthur be so careless, Jeff wondered. A thought suddenly struck him. According to these figures, there should be quite a stock pile of the extra lumber ordered by Arthur. But there was no such stock pile. Of that Jeff was positive because he was on the building sites every day.
The phone rang. Jeff picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Arthur?" It was a woman's voice.
"No," Jeff said. "Arthur isn't here. Is this Sue?"
There was a momentary silence, then a click.
Jeff shrugged. He got up and went to Austin's files. He wanted the invoices on lumber for the last six houses. He found what he was after. A study of the invoices showed that lumber had been ordered for double garages on each of the last six houses. Ordered and paid for. Tapping his pencil on his teeth, Jeff reflected on the records. There was no doubt in his mind that Arthur was pulling a swindle on his own father. Grant Copeland had to be in on the deal, too. The two probably split the money between them. The amount of lumber left over from one house was not much, but with the number of houses the Colonel was putting up, it could run into a pretty good figure at the end of a year. The Colonel would probably throw Arthur out on his ass if he ever found out. Should the Colonel be told? If it were only a question of his brother-in-law, Jeff would not have hesitated. But what about Sue and little Steve? It would hurt them more than it would Arthur.
Jeff put away Austin's invoices. He turned out the lights and left the office.
A low, long sleek sedan was parked next to his car.
"Jeff," a female voice called out.
Peggy Copeland sat at the wheel of the huge sedan. She flashed an enticing smile at him.
"Why, hello there," Jeff replied.
She swung open the door.
"Hop in," she said. "Let me show you how this thing rides." She leaned across the seat and unlatched the door.
He got in beside her. Her dress was hiked several inches above her knees. He found himself acutely aware of her legs.
"Stop looking so hard," she said with a laugh. "You've seen them before."
"Yeah, that's why I'm looking," he grinned. "I can't get them out of my mind."
"Flatterer."
"What are you doing here?" he asked. Then he quickly recalled the phone call and the quick hang up. "Did you think Arthur was working late tonight?" He paused for a moment, studied her. There was a small grin on her face. "You called a little while ago, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Why did you hang up?"
"Female instinct, I guess," she said slowly. "The wrong person answered, so I hung up."
"Do you and Arthur have a thing going?"
She looked down at her hands. "Oh, a little," she said. "Are you jealous?"
"Of that clown?" Jeff snorted. "He's a first class jerk in my book. And a swindler. He's the kind of guy who will take anybody he can."
"That's right," she agreed. "Including his own father."
His voice sharpened. "What do you know about that?"
"He's been bragging about it for months. He thinks nobody will ever be smart enough to find out about it. It's a big joke between him and Grant. How did you happen to find out?"
"Simple. I had to go over some figures and there it was. For a crook, he's kind of a dummy."
"Are you going to tell his father?"
"I'd sure as hell like to. Oh, man, how I'd like to!"
"So? Why don't you?"
He looked at her for a moment before answering. "There are other people involved. They'd get hurt right along with him."
"You mean his wife and son?"
"Right. Anyway, I'm going to break up his little game. I think I've figured out a way to stop him."
"Yes, and they may figure out a way to stop you," she said wryly. "If I was you I'd go to the old man immediately."
He shook his head. "No, not yet. I've got the cards and I've got to play them right."
"I still think you're taking a chance." She looked at him carefully. There was a worried look on her face. He noticed her look of concern, then put his hand on her knee.
"I was wondering about something else. You're asking me to go to the old man and tell him everything. What about Grant? He's going to get splattered with the same dirt that hits Arthur."
"I figure Grant is such a big deal, he'll just have to untangle himself. He thinks nothing can touch him, but something like this could hurt him. There are a lot of contractors who are honest people who would dump him real fast if they found out he wasn't on the up and up."
"I asked you before-where are we going?"
They were nearing the outskirts of the city. Her big car ate up the miles effortlessly.
"Don't you have any ideas?" she asked softly.
He pressed his fingers into the soft flesh of her leg. "Anywhere but on a hard wooden bench," he laughed. "Christ, my knees are still sore from that thing."
A tremor ran through her. Just his touch was enough to inflame her. Sex was a raw and primitive need with her. But he brought her something she had not known for many years.
The miles fell behind them. She eventually turned onto a country road that was little more than a lane. Pulling off to one side, she shut off the motor.
She faced him. "Jeff," she murmured.
He swept her into his arms, turning her so that she was cradled across his chest. He kissed her gently. He felt the response in her lips. Neither of them would be able to blame this night on anything but a deep, burning passion for sex.
Her hands were like delicate butterfly wings, fluttering over his neck and his shoulders, igniting the flesh, then coursing down to his stomach and, finally, his legs. He jerked back instinctively, then relaxed. His wife never touched him this way. She laughed at his sudden movement.
"You're a little jumpy," she said. "I'll have to calm you down."
"I'm all for that," he murmured. He meant it. Nothing was on his mind now but his awareness of her. Her busy fingers, fondling intimately, gave him no opportunity to think of anything else. She was unique among women in that she wanted no buildup, no preliminaries. And when he was with her, he felt the same way. Maybe it was his hunger for sex, the fact that he was doing something illicit, or maybe it was just because she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Her fingers had found his throbbing cock and she squeezed it harshly, almost desperately. Her fingers edged up to his zipper and, in a moment, she was inside his pants, her fingers coiled tightly around the hot staff.
"Let's get in the back," she whispered.
He helped her into the rear seat, then scrambled in after her. The back was luxuriant and spacious.
She pulled down the zipper of her dress with unnecessary violence. It made a savage, ripping sound. She wore no slip under her dress and he reached hungrily for the exposed flesh. She pushed aside his hand impatiently, then lifted herself and pulled the dress from beneath her hips. Her arms went over her head and the dress came off.
She had undressed with a sort of raging impatience. He reached to unhook her bra but she already had it off. He heard the silken rustle of her silk panties as she slipped out of them.
He had never seen her nude in full light. It was a lack he regretted. He buried his face between her full breasts and heard the moaning begin in her throat. Her fingers were charged with a terrible, powerful energy-a hunger-that sometimes made him wince with pain. He felt fiery stings on his shoulders and back. She gave as fiercely as she received. They were like two writhing serpents, each trying to destroy the other.
"Let me ... let me ... get out of these clothes," he gasped.
Eagerly, she opened the buttons of his shirt, tugged the garment from his pants, while he struggled to undo his belt. Within moments, he sat nude beside her and the frenzied ritual began once again.
He found one of her breasts with his lips, felt the hard little knob that was her nipple and ran it through slightly parted and moistened lips. His tongue flicked at it, made little circular motions around it. Then he opened his mouth wide and plunged as much of the luscious tit in as he could, holding it with both hands. He sucked hungrily, plunging the cone-shaped flesh in and out of his mouth-and licking vigorously at the hippie and aureole.
Her hands were busily racing over his body, finding one spot that pleased her momentarily, then abandoning it to go on to another. Her fingers gripped his rigid prick, stroked the skin sheath, then went below to fondle his balls and roll them gently in her fingers like delicate eggs.
Now the quivering shots of fire seared up along his flesh, down across his entire body like a raging inner flame. Answering flame, volcanic flame, erupted deep with her loins.
Slowly, almost unnoticeably, Peggy slid her churning body down on the seat, until she was almost full length, her body moving insinuatingly beneath his, her hands holding each titty now, offering them to his restless lips. In sliding, she had moved her hips to a point near his chest. Seeing the opulent curve of her calf, the suggestive wickedness of her hip movements up against his chest, he felt himself shudder. There was once again the strong aroma of sex flooding into his nostrils and he lost himself in the heady scent.
Lingeringly, he rose from Peggy's ample bosom and trailed his lips under each luscious globe, then down her stomach. For a moment, he licked the smooth skin, surveying the beautiful, compliant woman lying before him, drinking in the lovely, slowly convulsing torso. Then gently, slowly, he slid his hands along her body and down onto her legs.
Peggy emitted an involuntary moan of pleasure as he arranged her on the seat, pulling one leg on each side of him. She lay in docile surrender, her stomach rising and falling in swift rhythm. Jeff, himself throbbing with excitement, watched for a moment, until her buttocks writhed slightly on the seat. Then he moved to her again, agonized anticipation making his stomach a steel hard knot.
Deftly, his hands moving gracefully, surely, he stroked the sheer length of her legs, going from her breasts to the bare expanse of thigh, kissing her delicately, arousing her to an incredible degree. She whimpered as his lips slid along her legs, grazing lightly across the mound above her pussy and down onto the tender inner flesh of her thigh. His tongue was like a probing flame, igniting the passion in her body wherever it touched.
A sudden urge came over him, and he plunged his head between her legs and held the warm, hairy nest against his face. He kissed the moist cunt hair, matching his lips with the lips of her pussy, kissing it like he would another pair of lips.
And in her ecstasy, Peggy's legs moved apart automatically, a slow movement signifying full acceptance of what he was doing to her.
"Ummm, you sweet, wonderful pussy," he murmured softly. He kissed her cunt with a long, clinging kiss as he pulled the cheeks of her ass. "The dear, sweet flesh of a true woman," he said softly. "My woman ... my pussy ... "
She groaned with contentment, reached a hand down, and patted him lightly on the head.
Jeff was throbbing, both from his own physical desire for Peggy's pussy and also from the thought that he could take all the liberties with it he wanted, something he had never been able to do with Maria's precious hunk of womanhood. It was like a dream to him. He could smell his dream. Her pungent fragrance seemed to fill the car. It was between the well-rounded thighs that he held in his arms, and it reached into his nostrils to stir his passion for her even more. He closed his eyes. He savored the sweet smell of her pussy. He kissed it again, opening the lips slightly with his tongue, then putting his own lips into hers so that her juices were on him, clinging to his moist lips like dew drops of desire. The fragrant odor of her cunt seemed to envelope him, and he felt a strange desire to return to the womb, to enter completely into this exciting hole where all life began.
Then he wondered, fleetingly, about that strange compulsion. Because he had passed through the moist, slippery passages of a vagina, was there a natural desire for him-or anyone-to return there? Was that why this almost uncontrollable urge to put his face next to Peggy's pussy possessed him? He had suckled on his mother's breasts, his lips had tasted her, his tongue had curled around the life-giving nipples. The natural desire to express love was to taste, to kiss and to lick-to put his mouth on the object of his desire.
He mashed his lips against the warm moistness again. Then, with a sliding motion, he went to his knees on the floor of the car and pulled her legs toward him, moving them far apart so he could get between them. But he did not plunge his face into the steaming slit as she had expected.
"Open your cunt," he hissed. "Open it with your fingers."
She slid her hands down to her pussy and pulled the lips apart. Her hips were already moving up and down slightly, waiting for the probing dart of his tongue that she knew was coming soon.
He moved closer. His breath was hot on her. He did not touch her, but only stuck out his tongue and tasted of the soft inner membranes of her cunt lightly, flicking his tongue rapidly.
Her hand went to the back of his head, but he quickly took it away and put it back into her pussy. "Hold it open," he commanded. He moved slowly forward. Now his tongue sank into her, moving backing and forth in a steady rhythm that made her buck slightly. He stretched into her, held it for a moment, flicked the tip of his tongue, and then withdrew. The wet lips of her cunt lay alongside his face, and he moved from side to side so that most of his face was wet with her juices and his own saliva.
Then she ran her index fingers into his mouth, coiling them under his upper teeth, and pulled him into her. Her hips moved upward to allow room for both her hands and his face in her crotch. Her thumbs were on his wet cheeks, and she worked his face into her with the same tempo of her hips.
He flattened his tongue and lapped at the slippery opening. One hand went under her ass, and then crept slowly down the crack to her asshole. He fingered the tightened anal bud gingerly. He moved his finger to his mouth and took spit from it to moisten the tightly-drawn rosebud. With a careful motion so that his nail would not hurt her, he applied the spit to the hole and slid one finger in.
"Oooohhh," she gurgled. She flung her legs farther back so that her cunt and asshole were thrust toward him.
His tongue now took in the crack of her ass as well as her cunt, and he slipped lower and lower until he touched her asshole with his tongue. He opened it slightly with his finger, then slid his tongue into it. With quick, urgent motions, he shot his tongue in and out of her. He took hold of both cheeks of her ass and pulled her toward him, then thrust her away, so that it was as though she was fucking his face in the same way she would fuck his prick. She had put her hands on the back of his head to get the full feel of his motions.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes ... lover man," she moaned. "Fuck that nice little asshole with your tongue, your nice warm tongue. And fuck my pussy, too. Fuck it with your hungry tongue ... " Her words were hissing out of her mouth, sometimes incoherent, sometimes demanding, ordering, pleading.
He was licking between her legs with long, hungry strokes that went from her asshole to the top of her twat. His tongue was flat and wet, his eyes were closed, and his chin was dipping into the juices that collected in the crack of her ass and virtually poured from her box.
A tremor passed through her body and spread all through her, so that she squirmed and writhed in agonized pleasure.
Quickly, he moved to the hot, moist slit, searched for the clitoris, and found it. He licked the little knob vigorously and felt her hips churn up and down, her legs writhing and churning, too.
She let out a groan and sent her hips ramming up and forward. Her hands clutched at his hair, tearing at it, then holding it tightly until he thought she was going to tear it out. Then all motion stopped. Both of them hung in mid-air. The pleasure of pain and ecstasy darted through her, and he licked her lightly, heard her moan with mixed torment and delight.
When her body spasms ceased, he held his face on her pussy for some time. Then he pulled away from her, took one leg and lifted it over his head, and turned her so that he could get between her legs.
He carefully straddled her, then raised her legs. Now he hovered over her, his rapier stiff and hard, ready for the thrust that would join them in yet another expression of sex. He lowered himself slowly, pointing his pulsating prick at the dark nest just below. Her hands came up to him, to take the stiff prong of love, and pulled him to her. Her moistened lips were hot with anticipation as the plum-like head made its first contact, nudging its way into the velvety furnace.
Then her hands released him and locked behind his back. They were poised, like racers at the starting blocks, but there would be no spurt from the blocks. This start would be easy, deliberate, filled with words of love and mutterings that meant nothing except to the two involved. A querulous grunt, an affirmative moan-these were the words of ultimate love and passion between them.
In unutterable, incandescent bliss, they rode the streaming, boiling lava, the molten wave lifting them, locking them, in shuddering ecstasy that made their flesh scream and their very nerves palpitate insanely.
They lay back, still embraced, fighting for breath.
He lay beside her, completely drained. He should have been floating in a vacuum of release and satisfaction, but he was not. He heard her heavy, labored breathing. He did not regret the intensity of their lovemaking. That was the way it should be between a man and a woman. But there had to be an emotional follow-up to smooth over the rawness and restore the veneer.
He became acutely aware of his lacerated back and said dryly, "If I'm going to spend more time around you, I'll have to clip your claws."
She turned her face toward him. Her breathing had eased up. Her eyes were round and misty with satisfaction. She raised her face and softly kissed his cheek. He was glad the wildness was gone from her. He could not have taken any more of that driving intensity right now.
She pressed against him, but it was a seeking of him more than a wanting of him. It was a feeling he had not experienced during his entire married life. When he took himself from Maria, she was more than anxious to leap from the bed and cleanse herself. Afterwards? Well, afterwards she tried to remain as far away from him as possible, as though he was something dirty and undesirable. Come to think of it, he mused while he lay there with Peggy's body against his, Maria oftentimes felt that way before they made love.
The fact that someone wanted him made thrills run through him. Maria had done such a good job of denying him, rejecting him-before and after-that he had begun to build up a complex about his body. Maybe he was unattractive to her, maybe even repulsive. In his confused mental state during his marriage to Maria, he was not sure whether the fault lay with him or with her. What he had feared was not as terrible as he had imagined. His fear of the Colonel, of offending him. He had taken care of that in one brief outburst.
And now this woman, this Peggy Copeland, was bringing his manhood back to him. He felt rejoiced, warm. And his warmth was to this woman who had so simply made a man of him again.
In a fit of sudden passion, he turned and kissed her. "Peggy, I think you're wonderful!"
"It's unusual to hear someone say that after ... after it's all over," she said.
"And it's unusual for someone to stay snuggled up afterwards."
"I knew you had a problem, Jeff. I had an idea that's what it was when I got a look at your wife when she came in with the Colonel. I had only seen her a few times before that, but she never looked quite so ... so cold and aloof as she did that night. I would have enjoyed Grant taking her and working her over. It might have done her some good."
"And Grant would hate me for the rest of his life for bringing in such a dud," Jeff snorted.
"She's beautiful."
"She loses that beauty when I get in bed with her. Hell, if a man can't get decent nooky from his own wife ... "
He edged up so he lay beside her again. He stroked her cheek, running his fingertips over her lips, her nose, her eyelids. Gently, like a feather, he moved over her, relishing this moment when he felt wanted. But he felt pity for her. He knew that he could not be the haven she sought.
"At these parties you throw," he said, "there must be a lot of wild things going on. You know, plenty of sex of every description. How come you don't get enough then?"
She studied him for a few moments. "It's a little different then. That's just plain, raw sex-naked body to naked body-nothing else. What we had tonight is much nicer, more personal."
"I suppose there's a lot of ... unusual things taking place."
"By unusual, you mean what some people call abnormal? Yes, you name it and it happens."
"You mean what you did to me in your garden and what I did to you here tonight is common-between just anybody?"
"I said it was raw sex. A body in the dark is a body. That's all. Sometimes, if we don't talk, we don't even know who we've been with. Maybe it's better that way."
"You mean you do things like you did to me and you sometimes don't even know who the man is?" Jeff asked.
"Body to body, male or female, it makes no difference."
"You mean you might get tangled up with another woman?"
"Of course, darling. That's all part of the game. And sometimes that leaves one man to another and ... "
"What? You can't mean that men go down on each other just because, as you say, it's part of the game?" He seemed horrified.
"Darling," she said condescendingly, "you've just got to come to one of our parties. We'll break you in so you won't be so shocked at everything. Golly, I thought everybody knew about things like that. It's fun. I mean, really fun."
It was pleasant, she thought, lying here with his arms around her. Too pleasant, maybe. A shiver ran through her. He was the first man in many years who had been able to penetrate deep into her inner feelings. But he seemed so naive about sex. Well, she would take care of that. She needed men, but heaven help her from being tied to any single one. She had believed all these years that there could be physical contact between a man and woman without any ensuing emotional involvement. Her eyes suddenly felt hot and stinging. She closed them to keep the tears from spilling out. She wished he would say he had had a good time. It was nice. Now take me home. Casual. Just like it meant nothing more to him than fulfillment of sexual desire.
Jeff felt different. Exhilarated. He had found something with Peggy that he had never realized before. She had given him satisfaction and he hoped what he had done had pleased her as much. His infidelity did not bother him, either with Peggy or with Sue. Somehow, he felt, as long as he was sexually satisfied, everything was perfectly all right.
CHAPTER SIX
After leaving the house the next morning without breakfast, Jeff busied himself in the office. There was another confrontation with the Colonel regarding Arthur's mishandling of the specification reports, but Jeff avoided exposing Arthur.
Arthur accused Jeff of messing up his figures, Jeff denied it. The Colonel got mad. The bickering between Jeff and Arthur continued.
"All right, knock it off!" the Colonel thundered. "I won't have this arguing between you two. You'll stop or I'll stop it for you!"
The Colonel's meaning was clear. It was a threat of dismissal to one of the belligerents. He glared at the two men.
When Arthur had returned with the figures, the Colonel studied them carefully. The Colonel had a fast head for figures. He was anything but a stupid man. He raised his head and frowned at Jeff. "I'd say you were under ordering."
Jeff saw a glitter of triumph leap into Arthur's eyes. He said evenly, "Are you figuring a two-stall garage, Colonel? If you are, you'll realize we haven't built a house with a two-staller for six months."
A hungry sharpness appeared in the Colonel's eyes. He bent back to his figuring. Arthur looked as though he were on the verge of a nervous collapse. There was an anguished, prayerful entreaty in his eyes. Suffer, you bastard, Jeff thought. He knows now that I know. He knows his neck is on the line and he'll die a thousand times while he waits for me to bring the ax down on it.
The Colonel bounced his pencil off his desk. "You're right," he said. He looked at Arthur, and his cold eyes were waiting.
Arthur said frantically, "I never had new specifications made. I know how much lumber goes into the second garage. I subtract, that's all."
It was a lame excuse. It limped along like a three-legged dog. A suspicious man would have belabored that excuse until it screamed for relief. But Arthur was the Colonel's son.
"Of all the goddamn stupid things to do," the Colonel exploded. "Bring these specs up to date before you leave here."
"Yes, sir," Arthur said weakly. He had been given a reprieve. But a sword still hung over his head. Suspicion could enter the Colonel's mind at any moment. The agony in Arthur's eyes was pitiful to see.
It all wound up with Jeff suggesting to the Colonel that the two men check each other's work, then have the Colonel check the final work. The word "efficiency" was brought up by Jeff and that is what sold the Colonel. If there was anything he loved, it was efficiency.
Arthur realized his little game between himself and Grant Copeland was over, but if he did not keep his mouth shut, everything might be over for him, period.
Jeff walked back to his desk. Arthur approached, a murderous look on his face. "You think you're goddamned clever, don't you?" he snapped.
Jeff's face was the picture of innocence. "Just trying to be helpful, Arthur."
"I'll fix you if it's the last thing I do!"
That burned Jeff. Angrily, he asked, "Would you like to go back in there and reopen the matter? You're in no shape to fix anybody. You're alive because I let you be. Don't push your luck, Arty."
Arthur looked at Jeff with a stunned expression cementing his face into a mask of horror and disbelief. He whirled around sharply and strode back to his desk without saying a word.
Jeff smiled to himself. Sweat, you son-of-a-bitch, he thought. I hold the cards now, buddy-boy.
The thought of Peggy suddenly popped into his head. Could this affair with her possibly provide a source of danger to him? He did not think so. Of course, if he got caught, his ass would be mud. She was not the type to blab, but that look in her eyes scared him. Well, easy enough to fix that-he just would not see her, anymore. He was in a hell of a lot better position at work now that he had ever been and he would rather have that than a few pieces of tail on the side. Maybe she would satisfy herself somewhere else. Maybe Maria would change if he made a real try at it.
But Peggy Copeland had something that he longed for. And those parties ...
The day went by quickly for Jeff. Driving home that night, he felt good. It was one of those rare days when everything had gone good. It was a novel feeling for him.
He laughed as he remembered the bitter defeat in Arthur's eyes. And he had gained standing with the Colonel. Arthur had been the big objection to his job. With Arthur hobbled, would things get better?
No, they would turn suddenly worse, and he found it out as soon as he walked in the door. Maria was in the living room. There was enough poison in her eyes to destroy a dozen men. She said, "I suppose you're satisfied now."
"Huh? Satisfied about what?"
"Trying to get Arthur into trouble with his father by messing in his work."
"Oh, come on, Maria, who the hell told you anything as crazy as that?"
"Arthur."
"Well, you tell your dear brother Arthur that he's full of shit," Jeff snapped. He wondered immediately why Arthur persisted in needling him, knowing he could get himself in real trouble if everything came out in the open. "He's just trying to cover up some of his stupidity."
"How dare you call my brother stupid?"
"It's easy-he has a degree in it." Then he realized that he had had a very good day. Perhaps he could still salvage the part that was suddenly going sour. "How about going out to dinner tonight?" he asked cheerily.
"I wouldn't go any place with you!" she snapped.
He looked at her, shrugged. He went to his room, undressed and stepped under the shower. While the water cascaded over him, he tried to think of a good place to eat and how nice it would be if Maria would go with him.
"Are you going with me?" he asked when he had dressed.
"I am not," she clipped.
"Suit yourself."
He went out. It was a cloudy evening. The air was oppressively sultry. June was only a few days away. It was a month of violent heat and equally violent storms. June was also the month of the dreaded tornadoes. This section of the country had been hit with such savage intensity and frequency that it had come to be called Tornado Alley.
He ate his meal in silence, then stopped at a lounge and had three drinks. He thought of Peggy Copeland. He thought, too, of Sue Drake. He wondered how dangerous it would be to call either of them. A married man making calls to married women would be frowned upon by the Colonel. He thought about Arthur and his connection with Peggy Copeland. That was a mismatch if there ever was one. He wondered what Arthur had that Peggy wanted because, as he saw it, Sue was in need of something that Arthur was not giving her. Or did Sue just have hot rocks for him?
He got up and went to the pay phone in the vestibule of the lounge. He dropped his dime in and dialed every number except the last one. He debated briefly, then dialed the final number.
Sue was elated. Yes, she would be more than happy to meet him at the lounge. No, Arthur was not home. He had gone out to some kind of meeting and would not be home until late.
"What did you have in mind?" Sue asked coyly.
"Well, if you don't bring little Steve along, I have a lot of things in mind," Jeff said.
"I can take him next door. Madge has a sitter at her house tonight. I'm sure the sitter can watch two kids as easily as one."
"Good. I'll see you in half an hour."
Jeff did not think much of the idea of meeting Sue in a public place after he had made the arrangement. He shook his head as the bartender offered him another drink. He got up and went outside. He waited for Sue in front of the place.
While he waited, he thought of the wooden bench in Peggy's yard, then the lounge. Neither had been comfortable. The back seat of the car was a teenage thing. This time, he thought, he would get comfortable. If he was going to have sexual relationships outside his home, there was no use going at it like an amateur, he told himself.
"I've got just the place picked out, Sue," he said when she strode up to him some forty minutes after he had called her. He had already reflected on that ridiculous affair on the bathroom floor with Sue. "Don't ask any questions, don't say a word. I'm taking you somewhere where we can be comfortable."
They walked to the parking lot where Jeff had parked his car. He kissed her lightly before seating her in the passenger's seat. He clicked the door shut, went around to the other side and got in. Within seconds, they were on the highway heading out of town.
He put his hand on the seat and felt for Sue's. He wound his fingers into hers, felt their warmth. There was a slight, instinctive motion of withdrawal, but then she relaxed and let her hand lie in his. He felt suddenly very close to her, as though this was the most natural thing in the world to do.
"Sue, I hope you're not against going to a motel," he said.
There was a long period of silence. He thought that she had not heard and was about to repeat what he had said when he felt her hand pull out from under his.
"That's cheap," she said.
Now it was his turn to be silent for a time. She had surprised him. "What do you mean, cheap?" he asked.
"I couldn't do anything like that, Jeff. It would make me feel cheap. Isn't there some place else?"
"There's always a bathroom floor back at the project."
"Oh, don't be silly," she said. "Do we have to go anywhere? I mean, we're in the car and ... "
Oh, no, not again, he though. "The car is uncomfortable," he said. He wanted to tell her doing it in the car was even worse than going to a motel.
"Yes, but it's a lot safer. I wouldn't want to take a chance on someone recognizing me checking into a motel. What we did in the project was bad enough. Afterward, I was scared to death."
"Okay, Sue, have it your way. I'll see if I can find a good place to park."
The excitement of what he was about to do seemed to keen his eyesight. Within five minutes, he spotted a narrow little lane off the main highway and pulled the car about a half mile into it. The underbrush was sparse on either side. He plunged the car into it, virtually burying the car in the foliage.
In feverish, almost hysterical passion, as though they had both thought of the same thing at precisely the same time, they clung together, their lips alive, trembling, sliding, tremendous shudders gripping them as they remained in that frozen embrace. Her lips were warm, smooth, eager. Their bodies strained to move closer, their mouths gasping, grinding, devouring each other.
"Sue ... Sue ... " he murmured when they finally managed to tear themselves apart. But it was only for a moment, for she clutched his face to hers, circling his neck with her arms, holding him tight.
"Don't say anything, Jeff, darling," she whispered. "Don't talk." She drew his mouth to hers again. He felt his heart lurch and pound as the desire drove at him, turning his body into a cauldron of liquid fire.
The pressure mounted to fever pitch, and she abruptly tore her lips away. "Oh, Jeff, I don't know what's come over me. I can't seem to help myself, anymore."
And with that, she tore away from him viciously, as though afraid her conscience might make her change her mind. But she tore away for a reason, and it was to struggle out of her dress, bra and panties. She tossed her clothes aside, then sat erect in the seat, her arms folded under her breasts. "Jeff," she said, her voice throbbing as she turned to him and lifted the nipples so that they pointed at him, "these are yours. Please kiss them."
He needed no urging. He went willingly, helplessly enthralled by her calm insistence, and bent his face to her titties, kissing them, his lips closing on the erect nipples. Above him he heard Sue's pleasured sighs, felt her arms tighten on his head. He sensed new tremors beginning in her legs. Her breathing was gasping, struggling.
"Oh, that feels too good," she sighed. She adjusted her body at an angle across the seat. She moved her fingers in his hair, twisting as though trying to wind something up.
Slowly, she slid her soft, warm body down on the seat. She applied pressure to the back of his head and he knew immediately what she wanted. But he was cramped, could barely move.
"I'm going to have to open the door," he muttered. He reached behind him and undid the latch. As he slid out, he tugged her with him until her ass was on the very edge of the seat.
"Jeff," she said softly, "do you mind doing it to me that way?" She asked the question while his lips were just starting to move across the top on her pubic pad of hair.
"Do you like it?"
"I-I don't know."
"What does that mean? That you've never had it done to you before?"
"I've often wondered how it was."
He thought a moment as he blew his hot breath into the coiled hair and felt it return in a wash of sexual aroma. "What about Arthur? Didn't he ever go down on you?"
"A-Arthur and I don't have a very good relationship when it comes to sex. Sometimes he doesn't want me for months at a time."
He moved his lips to the tender skin on the inside of her thigh. He took a portion of the flesh and touched it with his tongue. She smelled fresh and clean and he laid his face onto her pussy and inhaled the sweet aroma of her.
"Do you ever do it to Maria?" she asked.
"She's not interested in sex.
She thinks it's dirty."
"You mean ... everything?"
"She and Arthur would make a good pair."
Sue giggled as he blew a puff of warm air against the lips of her pussy. He did not move away as he talked. "I'm in the same boat as you are, Sue. Sometimes I can't get anything for months, either. And I'm not talking about anything but plain, ordinary sexual intercourse."
"Do you like to do things different?"
"At first I thought there was only one way," he said, still not moving his face from her crotch. "Then I got around a little and found out there were things to enjoy that I never knew about. Yes, I like to do different things. I like doing this to you."
He flicked out his tongue and touched the lips of her pussy, then burrowed until he felt the liver-slick inner membranes. She gasped and he drove his tongue into her as far as he could, then withdrew it slowly. Just before taking it out, he thrust it upward to tickle her clitoris, and as he did, he felt her fingers snatch harshly at his hair and her nails dig into his scalp. He slid his hands under the twin balloons of her ass and lifted her slightly. He paused over her cunt for some moments, looking down into the dark patch nested on a sea of shimmering white skin that seemed to shine with a spectral glow, reflecting rays of moonlight, seemingly radiating a luminescence of its own. As he held her cheeks, little spasms raced through her, the movement making her ivory mounds dance and quiver on her chest.
"Kiss me there again ... please," she whimpered.
He did. He lashed out with his tongue and ate at her hungrily, dipping his head up and down as his tongue washed over her pussy from its very bottom to the padded pad at the top. He felt her entire body shake and tremble, and her breath was mixed with soft moans of ecstasy. He moved the tip of his tongue upward and found her clitoris. He stabbed at it with a new pressure and a new urgency. He was snorting and moaning. His fingers kneaded the flesh of her ass and he raised and lowered her to coincide with his own rhythm.
"Ohh, Jeff, Jeff ... "
He tried to take the little knob into his mouth but could only agitate it with his tongue. It was enough. She clutched at his hair and thrust her hips upward in one giant surge. She rammed her wet pussy into his face.
"Lick, lick, lick," she said rapidly. Her hips slammed up and down just as quickly. "Ohhh ... Ohhhh ... yes-sssss ... "
He lay with his face between her smoldering thighs for a long time. Then he realized that his knees hurt from being pressed onto the twig-strewn ground beside the car. He swiped his hand across her pussy to remove some of the wetness, then struggled to his feet. His cock stood out in front of him and he moved between her legs and prepared to sink it into her wet box. He opened the lips with the fingers of one hand as he held his throbbing cock with the other. Then he stopped suddenly.
"Did you ever think about kissing it?" he asked, sounding timid.
"You mean sucking on it?" she asked. "Yes, I have."
"Yeah, I know-Arthur wouldn't let you," he said wryly.
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes-just a little."
She pushed her body into a sitting position on the seat. Her legs were still dangling out of the car and he stood between them. She reached out and took hold of his cock, then looked up at him. "I-I've never done it before," she said. "If I do it wrong, will you show me how to do it?"
"Yes."
She moved her face forward. She held the stiff cock in both hands and studied the plum-like head. She touched the hot head against her lips and held it there for some moments. He could feel her hot breath on it and he snaked one hand around her neck and drew her toward him. Her mouth opened, then closed on the thick muscle. He moved his hips back and forth to make it slid in and out, then put his hands on the sides of her face and held her in place.
"Just relax, baby," he soothed. "Don't bite. Just let your lips slide over it and press your tongue against it. When you learn that, you start sucking."
"Ummhmmm," she murmured.
Jeff worked with her for some time. He winced as her teeth scraped the tender skin, he felt sorry when he moved forward too quickly and heard her gag. But after a time, she seemed to be able to suck it without instructions from him and he held her head and fucked her mouth with a slow and gentle movement of his hips.
"That's enough," he said at last. "I don't want to ... "
She fell back on the seat and waited for the hot prong to invade the lovely heaven between her legs.
"Fuck me," she whispered.
And he did.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Peggy Copeland smiled as she heard the insistent knocking on her door. Her heart beat a little faster. She knew it was Jeff. She had felt it all day. Perhaps it was because she had been thinking about him and how exciting he was to be with.
She patted her hair, straightened her dress, and fixed a warm welcoming smile to her lips. She had just showered and put on fresh things so she felt good. Warm. She opened the door. Arthur Drake stood outside, his eyes darting nervously. When the door opened, he rushed in, bumping into her rudely. Her smile disappeared.
"What on earth ... ?" she exclaimed, half angry.
"Where's Grant?" Arthur asked loudly, looking around excitedly. His face was flushed and he reeked of alcohol.
"You might say hello first," she said, annoyed. "Grant is out. Where else?"
He reached out and took hold of her shoulders. His fingers bit into her flesh, hurting her. "Where? When will he be back? I've got to see him!"
She slapped his hands from her shoulders. "How the hell do I know? He doesn't give me a rundown on where he's going."
"Peggy, I've got to see him. It's important." He began to pace up and down, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Fix me a drink."
She watched him with detached curiosity. She knew Arthur was an excitable person, that he sometimes became all worked up over nothing, but he looked genuinely concerned this time. She wondered how she had ever allowed herself to become involved with him.
"How about that drink?" he asked impatiently.
She poured a double. He snatched the glass and drained it.
She made up her mind not to give him another drink.
"What are you so worked up about, Arthur?" she asked.
He stared at her as though he did not understand the question. Then he said vehemently, "That goddamn Jeff Marston!"
"You two at it again?"
"Do you know what that lousy bastard did? He found out about my little deal with Grant. He knows all about it. How would that grab you?"
She looked at him curiously. She knew about the shady dealings between the two men. "Did he tell your old man?"
"No, at least he didn't go that far-not yet." He was sweating profusely. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face.
"So now you have to play Jeff's game, huh?"
He glared at her in utter outrage. Suddenly, his eyes turned ugly. "Yeah, funny, funny. By the way, you were supposed to call me at the office Monday night. What happened?"
"I called, but you weren't there," she said evenly.
Then he remembered. "Oh, yeah. But Jeff was!" he shouted. "You told him about the kickback. That's how he found out!"
"Don't talk so stupid. When he said you weren't there, I hung up."
"Well, it had to come from someplace," he pouted.
"What reason would I have to tell him anything like that?" she asked. "Besides, I hardly know the man."
"You talked to him the night of the party. I think you know him pretty good, probably even been out with him. Or to bed with him."
"So? What difference would it make to you?"
His slap came so suddenly that she had no time to protect herself. It knocked her backwards onto the sofa. She lay there, collecting her scattered senses. The anger came over her in pumping waves. She flew at him as if she had been launched by a catapult. Screaming with fury, she raked his face with her nails.
Backing away from her, Arthur kept crying out, "No, Peggy, no. I didn't mean to do it. I've been out of my mind with worry. Listen to me ... "
There were three oozing lines of blood along his jaw. She wanted to put a hundred more on his face. He side-stepped her wild lunges.
"Peggy, Peggy," he kept imploring. He backed into an end table, and a lamp crashed down on the floor. She made a wild leap toward him, and he caught her wrist. He spun her around, then pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms tightly about her. "Darling, listen to me," he said. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry. I lost my head. My God, you know I love you."
"Let go of me," she said weakly.
He let her go. She staggered over to the sofa. She stared at him with burning eyes. "Don't ever slap me again."
He limped to the sofa and sat down beside her. "Golly, you're some kind of wildcat," he said, smiling hesitantly. He looked down at her legs then. In the melee, her dress had split and now her leg was exposed almost to the hip. He noticed she wore no panties. Even in his frightened condition, he appreciated the sight of a fine leg. He reached for her hand, but she jerked away. Her hair had fallen over her eyes and she was breathing heavily.
"Honey, I'm sorry," he said. "I love you. I just went sort of berserk thinking that you and Jeff might have ... have ... " He shook his head as though pained. "I love you so much ... "
She said nothing. She only looked at him disdainfully. She had a wild desire to tell him that Jeff was a better man than he could ever hope to be.
"You know I love you, don't you?" he begged.
She had heard him say these words before. And once, in fact, she had even thought that she might be in love with him. But she no longer saw in him the Arthur she had once known.
"One day we'll be married," he went on.
"You seem to have forgotten two little details, Romeo-my husband and your wife. That does make it a little sticky, doesn't it?"
"It'll all work out," he said, but he sounded unsure and had to avert his eyes when he said it.
"I suppose you have some sinister plan all worked out where we'll get rid of both of them and then we'll live happily ever after. Tell me, are we going to use poison or just shoot both of them?"
"Peggy ... please. This is serious. I love you. I need you. We can work things out."
"I've always been partial to a gory throat-slitting," she chided. "It's so messy with blood and ... "
"Peggy! Stop it! This is nothing to make fun of." There was a hurt look on his face. He felt defeated, frustrated. "I want you so much." He pulled her roughly to him. Most of the fight had gone out of her and she did not resist. Resistance might bring out the anger in him once more.
His hand grasped her breast, squeezed. Too hard. His lips found hers, mashed against them cruelly. Then his tongue went between her lips but she would not open her mouth. He grasped her jaw and squeezed the muscles on either side, sinking his fingers into her flesh until she was forced to open. His tongue then darted into her, jamming back and forth hungrily.
The hand on her breast began to move about, rolling the mound, pressing it. Then he tried to go down the front of her dress but the material was too tight. With an urgent thrust, he forced his hand inside, tearing the material.
She tore herself away from his mouth, gasped, "Arthur ... please. You're being too rough. You're hurting me."
He made no reply. He thrust one leg between hers, his knee ramming into her crotch, and sending currents of pain through her body.
"Arthur! Please ... stop!"
"N-Not now ... I can't, Peggy. I need you."
"You don't need me this way. How can you think of such a thing with all the troubles you've got?"
"I need you this way and every other way," he panted.
He rose slightly, grasped the material of her dress with both hands and tore it down its entire length. He put one hand in the brassiere and pulled. The snap gave and he stripped the garment from her. She now lay in front of him completely naked.
He fumbled with his zipper, ran the tab down, then reached in and hauled his semi-hard cock out. He fell on top of her and tried to cram the limber prick into her.
"Arthur! Not rape! You wouldn't dare rape me!" she cried.
"It's not rape," he breathed heavily, working his hips back and forth.
"Arthur, you're acting like an animal."
He paid no attention to her. He managed to spread the lips of her pussy, somehow stuffed the partially erect organ into the opening. He began to pump furiously now, ramming against her. Surprisingly, the limp cock began to rise and was soon a stiff rod, probing her depths, ramming murderously into her.
"Arthur, you're hurting me," she said calmly and without the slightest emotion. "You don't have to be so rough. Take it, but don't tear me up doing it."
"Peggy ... I love you ... "
She began to move in rhythm with him, but it was more to keep from being hurt than for any personal satisfaction she got out of the act. Besides, with her movements she knew she could bring about his orgasm much faster than if he were left on his own. She pressed her hands on his ass and spread her legs to accommodate him.
He grunted and panted over her, sometimes sounding like a lusting animal. He pawed at her breasts, roughly and crudely. He tried to kiss her tenderly but managed only to ram his teeth against hers as he paid more attention to his crotch than his kissing.
And when he did finally come, it was a slow, unemotional thing, a grunting and a twitching of his body. Her only sensation was the hot liquid which seemed to ooze from him rather than spurt.
She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him off her. "Satisfied now?" she asked sarcastically.
"Oh, baby."
"Oh, baby what? Are you happy you had to force me?"
"You wanted it, too. I know. I can tell," he said softly.
"Sure, I want sex, but not the way you go at it. You come on like a bulldozer. God, Arthur, if you don't know how to make love to a woman, why don't you give it up? You might be better off playing with yourself."
"Peggy ... don't talk like that."
"If there's one thing a man should learn, it's how to fuck," she clipped. She knew any type of foul language irritated him. "That's the main reason for a man growing a cock."
He seemed stunned by her words. He said nothing, just looked at her.
"How about letting me up so I can wash your mess out of me? I wouldn't want to go drooling all over the carpet." He was suffering and she knew it.
"All right," he grunted. He got off her and tried to help her.
"Oh, leave me alone, Arthur. Go get your silly looking cock cleaned up." She snatched her arm away. "You're dribbling."
They both left the room, she to hers upstairs, he to the guest bathroom down the hall downstairs.
He took some time to think while he was washing himself. If only there was some way to have Peggy all to himself. How could he ever rid himself of Sue, though? And how could she shed Grant? He had never given it serious thought before, but now that Peggy had treated him the way she had he realized it was time to do something.
Sue and Jeff, he thought. If only those two could be brought together in some compromising position. If Jeff became involved with Sue, surely the Colonel would want no more to do with him and discharge him. But could it be done? Could he possibly arrange an involvement between the two? The way they always looked at each other, maybe it wouldn't be too hard.
But Jeff was not stupid. Whatever plan he devised would have to be a good one. He had no worries about Sue. She would believe anything he told her and when the time came ...
Peggy returned then. She had on a fresh dress and she had combed her hair. She ordinarily would have looked radiant. She did not. She looked tired and disgusted instead. She started to speak as soon as she entered the room. "You know I could have you arrested for rape if I wanted to, don't you?"
"Oh, come on, Peggy. How could you prove it?"
"By my torn dress, for one thing."
"After all, we've done it before so why would this time suddenly be considered rape? But let's not talk about that nonsense now. I need help, darling. Will you help me?"
"Help you? How?"
"You know I want to marry you."
"So?"
"I'll tell you later," he said. "When I've got it all worked out. In a few months from now you're going to be Mrs. Arthur Drake."
She winced at the thought. "You've already disposed of the two unwanted bodies?" she asked sarcastically.
"Will you help me?" he asked, ignoring her sarcasm.
"Oh, then you haven't disposed of the bodies yet," she egged. "Why, of course I'll help you, Arthur. What will we do-bury them in the basement or cut them up and throw them in the garbage disposal?"
"Dammit, Peggy, you're not funny!" he snapped. "You're making fun of my love for you. That hurts, darling. I wish you wouldn't do it."
She saw the anger in his eyes and knew she had gone far enough. "All right, Arthur, tell me what you have in mind."
"I have a plan that will make it possible for us to be together," he said slowly. Then he pointed his finger at her and said, "And don't start with that nonsense again. I don't like it."
"A plan?" She studied him slowly, carefully. "A plan could mean only one thing. You have something in mind for your wife."
"And it's not murder or anything as drastic as that," he said quickly. "I wouldn't have the guts for anything like that."
"I know," she said under her breath.
He grinned evilly, but said no more. The look in his eyes told her his mind was toying with something terrible.
* * *
Sue Drake often sat and thought about her situation. The one thing she had wanted from Arthur was his love. He had not given it to her. And now, because he had denied her, she had become an adulterous. She did not like the title, yet she felt an inner satisfaction that she had given herself to Jeff. He had brought relief to her. He had made her feel like a woman once again. If Arthur's neglect of her was to destroy her ego as a woman, he had succeeded only in driving her to another man. And, ironically, that had restored her faith as a woman, as a human being.
A tremor went through her when she recalled what she and Jeff had done in the car that night. It was exciting. She felt good about it. No shame. She had had a need and he had taken care of it. That is all that mattered to her at this moment.
She walked into the kitchen and mixed herself a drink. She lifted her glass and uttered a small toast to herself-and to Jeff. The kitchen clock showed it was after midnight. She had been home just a half hour. She wondered when Arthur would come home. She felt no anger over his absence as she had done so many times before. She had suspected he was running around with other women. For a long time it had angered her, hurt her. Now there was Jeff in her life. He took away all the pain of her loneliness.
She knew Jeff must be unhappy in his marriage. Maria was cold, he had said. A tingle of warmth stole over her breasts and in her crotch as she recalled what he had done to her. His very touch had sent tremors through her even before they had gotten together in that silly bathroom that first time. She had lain in bed and thought how much she would like to have Jeff lying next to her. Now she had had him. She was very pleased that she had.
She jumped as she heard the front door open. That would be Arthur. She crushed the thoughts of Jeff out of her mind, composed herself, and waited.
He saw the light in the kitchen and came in. "What are you doing up?" he asked gruffly.
"Having a drink," she replied. Her tone was carefully guarded. She did not want to be flippant. He had been drinking. It showed in his bleary eyes. He seemed to be in his usual quarrelsome mood.
"Funny time to be having a drink," he said. "You must really need the stuff."
She trembled inside. He could be nasty when he was full of booze. He could also be violent. "I was just having a drink while I was waiting for you, dear," she said softly.
"What the hell are you waiting for me for? Checking up to see what time I come in?" His voice rose. He was baiting her intentionally. "Are you going to check my collar for lipstick? Or would you rather check my pants for pussy tracks?"
"Please don't raise your voice, Arthur. Steve's asleep."
"That's another thing," he shouted. "I'm sick and tired of everything in this house revolving around that kid. Is he the only important thing around here?"
"Arthur ... please."
"Arthur, please," he mocked. "Why do you always have to snivel? I hate women who snivel."
She looked at him some time before she spoke. "Arthur, what is it you want? What's bothering you?"
He wheeled and glared at her. "Well, I sure as hell don't want you! Who the hell does?"
"Are you trying to ask me for a divorce?" she asked calmly.
"You figure it out," he snapped. He wanted to tell her, plain and clear. But the Colonel liked Sue. There would have to be more grounds than simply being tired of her. "I'll make up my mind what I want. No one is going to tell me what to do!"
"I wasn't telling, Arthur-I was asking."
"That's my business," he growled.
She wanted to scream aloud in her anguish, yet somewhere in the back of her mind she was at least halfway pleased that things were coming to a head.
She brushed by him.
"Good night, Arthur," she said coldly.
"Get your ass back here!" he yelled. "I'm not through talking to you!" She kept walking away. "I don't know why I married you. I never wanted you!"
He looked down the hallway. His eyes were glaring and red. Then, when he heard the soft click of her door, a smile spread over his face. He had carried off the first phase of his plan very well, he thought.
Peggy, it's going to be a long, hard road, but we're going to make it, you and I. Nothing is going to stand in the way of our love. Nothing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jeff Marston ate a solitary breakfast. He felt certain Maria was awake. She was an early riser. But her door had been closed when he passed her room, and, if he judged correctly, it would be closed until he left the house.
He had never considered divorce before. But now that he had had extra-marital relationships with two women, it occurred to him that there was a great deal lacking in his marriage. He, liked Sue, did not feel remorse over having gotten sex outside his home. It was not a thing to be proud of, yet he did not feel guilty, either. He hated to think of sex with his wife as a legal right because that made it appear she was giving him something when, in a true marital relationship, the partners gave equally to each other.
And what about Sue? She was not satisfied at home. A divorce for her was inevitable. Were his feelings for her strong enough to drop everything he had and start over with her? He felt drawn to her, more so than he was to Peggy. Peggy was an attractive woman who could satisfy his sexual needs but did she have enough going for her to make it last a lifetime? He doubted it. Sue emerged bright and clear, like a picture being slowly and carefully focused.
He went to the office to learn that a tornado had touched down in nearby Springdale. It was news to Jeff. He had not read the morning paper or listened to the radio. He knew the town. He had driven through it several times. It was only twenty miles away.
Jeff went to his desk and checked his work sheet for the day, then left the office and headed for the project. He passed Arthur in the parking lot. The man's eyes gleamed with malevolence. Jeff had been checking his figures. They were correct in every detail.
He walked through the project, checking the progress of the workmen, then headed for the park. Indian Bow has its own park. It was a scanty one because the Colonel hated the thought of all that wasted ground.
Jeff went to the park whenever he had a problem to unravel. He frowned when he saw that his favorite bench was occupied by a woman. It sat well back among the shrubbery, giving one a sense of privacy.
He was about to turn aside when he recognized the woman on the bench. It was Sue. Staring straight ahead, she did not hear him approach. He was startled by the sudden tremor that shot through his body when he saw her supple body, her luscious breasts, her provocative smile. Yes, there was more to their friendship than just a casual fling.
"You're a long way from home," he said, smiling warmly.
She tried to smile but her eyes suddenly sparkled with tears.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Arthur?"
She nodded again.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked gently.
"Not really. I have no right to burden you with my troubles."
"Honey, you and I are in the same boat. We're outsiders."
"I know," she said softly. "I know you're not very happy with your marriage either."
"Happy? What's that?"
She brushed a hand across her eyes, sniffed, then looked up at him. "It's something you and I have had together," she said. "Those precious few moments were the happiest I've known for a long time."
He smiled. If she was happy with those two uncomfortable sessions, what would she think of a weekend in bed with him? He wanted to kiss her. Suddenly, he could restrain himself no longer. He reached out and pulled her to him. His lips found hers and as they met he felt little bolts of lightning streaking through his brain.
She pulled her lips away at last. A slight tremor ran through her. Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "I feel so ... so good when I'm with you. Something just comes over me, some kind of strange feeling that I've never felt before."
He clutched her to him and kissed her again. He felt the twinge in his groin, felt her breasts pressing into his chest. It was still daylight and his mind was racing for some kind of plan where they could enjoy each other's bodies. But necking in public was bad enough. Sexual intercourse was out of the question.
"I need you, Jeff," she said against his ear. "I need that." She put her hand in his lap and grasped his hard cock.
"This is a hell of a place," he said, sucking in breath. "By the way, how did you know I'd come here?"
She smiled up at him. "I know a little more about your habits than you think," she said. "I wasn't sure you'd come, of course. I just thought I'd take a chance. If it was meant to be, it would be." She brushed his cheek with her lips. Her hand remained on his rock-hard rod.
"You keep that up and I'll be forced to rape you right here in the park," he said.
"I wouldn't mind. I came prepared. See?" She took his hand and pulled it up under her skirt. She was wearing no panties and he shuddered as his fingers felt the warm skin, then the hair of her pussy.
"Oh, God," he moaned.
And while he was toying with the dainty hairs on her pussy, her hand was busy with the tab of his zipper. He only noticed when he felt her fingers curl around his stiff prick.
"This is crazy," he said. "We don't dare do anything out here."
"Couldn't I ... sit on your lap?"
His rising passion had taken command of his senses. He did not wait. He lifted her bodily from the bench and placed her on his lap. The hot shaft burned against the soft skin of her leg. She trembled and raised herself so that one leg was on each side of him, her knees resting on the bench beside his thighs.
He reached down and took hold of his cock while she put her fingers into her twat and opened it. He could feel the tremendous heat of her box as the head of his cock neared it. His eyes darted across the park and studied the area for any sign of a human being.
"You'd better keep an eye out over my shoulder for anyone coming through the park," he said. "I'd hate like hell to get caught like this."
She was sinking lower on his rigid shaft, gritting her teeth and sucking breath through them. Once she had settled on it, she began to move herself up and down slowly. He took hold of her at the small of her back and held her. He could barely move his own hips from his slouched position but he tried; he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
"Oh, darling, this is so wonderful," she sighed. "Oh, you feel so good inside me. You don't know what it does to me." She increased the tempo of her movements and hugged herself against him.
He could feel his cock deep inside her. She was incredibly hot, her chapel of love inflamed with her wild passion. He could feel minute twitchings in the walls of her cavern of ecstasy and he returned them with slight expansions of his glands.
There was no time for finesse, however. With her passion increasing with every stroke, she began to virtually bounce up and down on him, dropping her ass heavily onto his legs as she impaled herself on his prick, then rose from him with a soft sucking sound, then dropping again and making her knees clomp hard against the wooden bench.
The bench tilted crazily, then righted itself as Jeff threw his weight forward. But Sue was slamming down on him with such force that the bench rocked again, hanging just on the verge of tipping over, then falling back again.
Jeff's heels were digging in the ground as he tried to steady the bench. His arms flailed out to bring more weight forward. With her wild jouncing up and down on him and his arms flailing about, they gave every appearance of having a terrific brawl.
Then Jeff felt the familiar tingle in his groin and was swept with a sense of relief. It would be over in a moment.
But what was over was the bench. It rocked backward, Jeff tried to draw himself forward, stretching his arms out and pulling his legs off the ground. But Sue was rocking violently. She had lost herself completely, passing into some kind of delirious half-coma that made the tilting of the bench seem only as the spinning of her brain. She was brought sharply back to reality as the bench fell backward and she thudded heavily atop Jeff. But even then, there must have been some doubt in her mind as to what had really happened for she continued pumping up and down on his cock until he put his hands on her shoulders and shook her violently.
"Sue! Sue! For Christ's sake!"
"Huh? Wha ...?"
"It's over, baby. Get up." He said the words sharply.
"I-I didn't know ... I thought ... "
Despite his anxiety, he was forced to see the humor in their ridiculous situation. He wanted to lay there and laugh, but could not afford the luxury. Instead, he helped her off him, then quickly got his clothes back in order.
She was giggling by then.
"What are you laughing at?" he asked. "As if I didn't know."
She shook her head. "I don't know if I should tell you or not," she said, still laughing lightly.
"I'll bet I know," he said, grinning. "You figured you were having one of the wildest climaxes you've ever had. Right?"
She brushed at her skirt, fluffed lightly at her hair, looked around to see if anyone was near. "Something like that," she said. "Wow, I thought, this is really sensational. I think I-I, ah, came when we hit the ground."
"A stunning climax to a slow beginning," he laughed.
"You know," Jeff said, "one of these days I'm going to get you into a nice comfortable bed. If we keep this up, either one or both of us is going to get killed."
"I'd better run. I've been gone over an hour." She moved close to him and took his hand. "But it's been a wonderful hour."
"I'd like to make it a lifetime," he said.
Her eyes brightened. "You would? Oh, Jeff ... " She flung herself into his arms and turned her face up to him. He kissed her warmly.
"I think we've taken enough chances for one day," he said, easing her away. "Go home and ... and take a cold shower or something." He patted her playfully on the fanny.
She smiled at him, then turned and began to cross the park.
He watched her until she was out of sight. He had a warm feeling inside him. He remembered how wonderful her body had felt, the look in her eyes, the sweet smell of her. He felt his heart beat a little faster. He sighed and shook his head.
When Arthur returned from lunch that day, he saw the Colonel standing in the door of his office. There was a kind of urgency on the old man's face. The bottom dropped out of Arthur's stomach. He knows, he thought, he knows all about my little deal with Grant Copeland. Jeff must have told him.
"I've been waiting for you," the Colonel said gravely. "Come into my office."
Arthur's first reaction was to turn around and run. He steadied himself with an effort, then stepped into the head man's office.
"Sit down, Arthur," the Colonel said. He stared at Arthur in a queer way. When Arthur had virtually collapsed into a chair, the Colonel said, "I don't know how to tell you this." He fumbled for words, an unusual circumstance in any event. "It's about Sue."
Arthur straightened in his chair. An accident was his first thought.
"And Jeff Marston," the Colonel added.
Then the Colonel went on to tell Arthur how he had happened to be going through the park and had seen Jeff and Sue kissing. He had caught only a glimpse of them before Sue went out of the park, he told his son, but they were definitely kissing. Furthermore, he went on, Jeff had patted her on the back side just before Sue left. Arthur seized the opportunity with a quick lie. He told the old man he had known of it for some time but did not do anything because of little Steve, and he didn't want the disgrace of divorce against the family name.
The Colonel saw the sudden burst of rage on Arthur's face. His hand tightened on his son's shoulder. "Easy, boy," he said.
Arthur feigned shock and sadness, but inside himself he was filled with joy. Sue and Jeff had played right into his hands. All that remained was to rig up the final scene and it would be all over.
"Arthur," the Colonel said solemnly, "if you need me ... "
"Sure, Dad."
Under this great emotional strain, Arthur felt he could do no more work. He left the office, ostensibly to go home. He went, instead, to Peggy Copeland's house.
* * *
Peggy answered the ring. She took one look at who was calling and sunk into an immediate mood of disappointment. She had hoped Jeff would be her caller. "What do you want?" she asked irritably.
"I want to talk a little business with you, dear."
"Not like the last time I hope."
A broad grin spread over his face. "I'm here to talk, not make love."
"Come in," she said resignedly.
He entered, closing the door behind him. His arms reached out for her. She stepped back.
"Oh, no, none of that this time," she snapped.
"Not even a kiss?"
"Nope."
He shrugged, sighed. "Things have changed, Peggy. Everything's going to work out all right."
"How thrilling."
"Is Grant giving another of his parties this Saturday?"
She thought for a moment, gazing past him. "Yes, I believe he is," she said slowly.
"Good. Sue and I are coming."
Peggy's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Your wife. She'll only run out like your sister did."
He shook his head. "She'll have a special reason. She's got the hots for Jeff Marston."
"Whaaaaat? Sue and Jeff. I don't believe it. When did all this happen?"
"I don't have time to explain, but it's all perfect-just perfect. The important thing is that it happened. Now what we've got to do is fix it so the Colonel will find them together in bed. The old boy will blow his top. He'll throw both of them out on their asses. Then it'll be clear sailing for you and me, baby."
She wanted to protest, but found herself asking, "What do you want me to do?"
"Just get Jeff to the party Saturday night. Everything hinges on that."
She found herself breathing hard. She had given Jeff everything a woman could give a man. It had not been enough, apparently. The fury of a woman scorned surged within her. Although she had not seen Jeff to confirm what Arthur had just told her, she found herself believing him. She was angry. She felt somehow that Jeff belonged to her.
"You get Jeff to come and I'll see that Sue gets here. The Colonel saw them necking in the park, but that's not enough. If he finds them in bed together, that'll clinch everything," he said, even more excited now.
"Are you sure your father saw what he said he saw? He could have been mistaken."
"He saw, baby. When that old boy makes with a statement like that you can be sure it's the truth. All I've got to do is tell Jeff that Sue is here and he'll come, believe me."
"And where will you be while he's taking your wife to bed? Standing there showing them the way?"
"I'll bring her and then leave. I'll wait for your call to tell me it's time to bring the Colonel. I can make some excuse to duck out of here."
She looked away. She did not like the idea of setting Jeff up for a deal like this.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"A lot of things could go wrong. Maybe neither one of them will fall for it. Maybe your father has had enough of our place and refuse to come. You know how he left here the last time."
"We'll just have to think of some way to make sure he gets her into bed. Once I tell that to the old man, he'll come running to get a first-hand look. Hell, even if Jeff isn't, the one in bed with her, it wouldn't matter. In that case, he'd be paired off with some other woman. Both their asses would be mud."
"I'll see what I can do," she said weakly.
His face brightened. "I know," he said. "We'll have all the women retire to the bedrooms. No man will know who he's going to get until he walks into that bedroom. We'll leave it up to Grant to see that Jeff gets Sue. Simple."
She looked at Arthur. His face was beaming. A flash of hate went through her. Why did jackasses like Arthur always seem to be holding all the aces?
"All right," she said. "I'll try to arrange it."
CHAPTER NINE
Sue Drake was bent over the kitchen sink, listening to the children of the neighborhood playing and shouting happily.
Children were luckier than adults, she thought. They could change from one game to another without much trouble. To change an adult game brought so much upheaval and agony that they avoided it or put it off as long as possible.
Her mind and body felt sticky. A shower would relieve her body. She wished there was something that could relieve the tension of her nerves, of her desires. Ever since that first session with Jeff, her whole body seemed to be on fire most of the time. She stayed in the shower for a long time, letting the cool water play on her body. She turned the water to warm and soaped her breasts. She slid her hands over them, caressing and kneading them-and fantasizing that Jeff had control of her hands. And she gasped as she inadvertently squeezed the sudsy nipple. She thought how nice it would be to take a shower with Jeff, to have his hands move over her soaped flesh, and then she blushed slightly when she thought of soaping his thick organ and playing with it. She stepped out finally and put on her robe, a thin affair that she left open in the front.
Her thoughts remained on Jeff and the tingle in her body caused her face to redden from the passion she had aroused in herself in the shower. Heat stole through her body. She crossed her legs and let one swing rhythmically as the excitement grew in her. She placed her hands on her breasts and kneaded them gently as her imagining went wild picturing Jeff, then pushing him out, only to have him return. Her hands were now on his hands. She closed her eyes. Now he was standing before her naked, his big rod arced away from his body and the head pleading for a kiss from her.
One hand crept slowly from her breast. She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers, then she pried her lips apart and let the middle finger slide into her mouth. While she toyed with one nipple, she sucked hungrily on her own finger, driving it in and out of her mouth in a gentle fuck-motion.
Now she could feel his lips on her breasts, his tongue flicking on the hard nipples, his teeth biting them gently. His kisses were hot on her titties, between them, and now coursed down her excited body until she felt his tongue dipping into her navel and making little circular motions there.
With a groan, she clutched both hands between her legs. Her hips moved up and down as she uncrossed her legs and spread them wide. Her finger found its way between the moistened lips, to her clitoris, and she massaged the tiny protrusion more and more frantically as her body became electrified, on fire with desire.
She threw her head back and closed her eyes. The lightning struck with a crash, spasms rent her body, and she almost toppled off the small stool.
She righted herself. She could not look at her reflection in the mirror. She covered her flaming face with her hands. Ever since that day in the empty house at the project she had been twisted and torn by new emotions and desires. He had ignited a flame inside her. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she ever think a man held so much pleasure for a woman.
She started as the door opened. In the mirror, she saw Arthur enter the room. How washed out and unmanly he looked to her after the thoughts of Jeff. She quickly covered herself, hoping he would not notice the flushed appearance of her face, nor the nervousness which suddenly possessed her body.
"Grant Copeland called this afternoon," he told her. "He wants us to come to a party at his house this Saturday." He paused a moment. "I turned him down."
Her eyebrows raised. "Oh?"
"You know what kind of parties he throws. You wouldn't like some of the things that go on there." He said it casually, but he was watching her intently as he spoke. "Yeah, I can just see you there. They'd get you in one of their games and you'd want to run out." He laughed derisively.
"Games? What kind of games?" she asked.
"Oh, they play all kinds of games. Some of them get right down to the nitty-gritty. You know, husbands and wives trading around for the evening."
"Trading? For what? Dancing, or just to talk?"
He burst into laughter. "You've got to be kidding. God, you're naive." He laughed some more.
"I don't understand," she said lamely.
"No, I guess you wouldn't," he said. "Well, when I said they traded around for the evening I meant that everybody went to bed with someone else. You know, this husband with that one's wife, this wife with another's husband. And so on." He looked at her sneeringly. "A man can find some real women at a party like that."
"How do you know so much about it? Have you been to one?"
"Oh, sure," he said casually.
Although she had been with Jeff several times, she still felt hurt. Perhaps it was because he was flaunting his lust in front of her, trying to hurt her even more than he had by ignoring her as a wife. Or maybe it was because she read in his words that their marriage was coming to an end.
And then he added, quite calmly, studying her reaction, "By the way, Jeff Marston is going to be there."
She could not conceal her surprise. He caught the sudden tensing of her body. He smiled.
"Surprised to hear that Jeff would go to one of those?"
"Yes, sort of," she said. "Does he know it's that kind of party?"
"Oh, sure he does. He's been to several of them already. They tell me he's quite the stud around some of the older women. Pretty much in demand. I hear he's hung like a bull." He made a fist and crooked his arm up shortly.
Sue fought to keep herself under iron control. She had a vague feeling he was testing her, that he knew something about she and Jeff. "What about Maria? Is she going? Or doesn't she even know about it?"
"Maria? Hell, she's not the kind who would go to anything like that. If she ever found out she'd probably toss his ass out into the street."
"You're her brother. Why don't you tell her?"
"Oh, no, I'm not sticking my nose into someone else's marital problems. I feel sorry for her, sure, but she's got to find out about it herself."
"And your father? You and he are so close I'm surprised you haven't gone running to him with it. You and Jeff don't get along. It would seem like an excellent opportunity to get rid of him, knowing how the Colonel looks on anything even remotely immoral."
"Same answer. If the old man is supposed to know, he'll find out."
She was silent for some time. She thought of Jeff and wondered if she had made a mistake about him. Maybe he was just another sex-hungry stud who went around poking it into every woman he could find. Then she said, "You don't think I'd have the nerve to go to one of those parties, do you?"
"I know you wouldn't," he sneered.
"Would it surprise you if I said I'd like to go?"
"Surprise me? Hell, I'd faint! All some guy would have to do is look at you and you'd run screaming out the door." He was dying to tell her she had been seen kissing Jeff, but he had to play the game his way. "You've always thought you had something pretty special between your legs, some kind of an untouchable commodity. No, you don't have the guts to even go and watch, let alone take part."
"You think so, huh?" she asked, turning to face him directly.
"I know so."
"All right, I'll go with you," she said firmly.
"Hah! This I've got to see," he said. "You'll chicken out when it comes time to go. And if you do go, you'll faint the first time a guy puts a hand on one of your precious tits."
"No," she said, calmer than she had hoped. "I won't back out. You can inform your friend, Grant Copeland, that you'll be bringing your wife to the party." She studied him briefly, then swung back around and dabbed at her makeup. "Satisfied?" she asked, glancing up at his face in the mirror.
"I've still got to see it," he grumped. But he was happy. Everything was working out perfectly for him. He went out of the room with a smile on his face.
CHAPTER TEN
The night of the party, Sue made up her mind that she would not back out. She had wanted to call Jeff to ask him if he really was going to the Copeland party but decided against it. Maybe she was not supposed to know he would be there.
She took a last look in the mirror. She had selected a very low-cut dress, one Arthur had refused to let her wear prior to tonight. If she was going to attend some kind of crazy whore party, why not look the part, she reasoned. Furthermore, to fortify herself, she poured down several stiff drinks as she got herself ready.
The fourth drink almost lifted her from the floor. Giggly laughter erupted from her.
"I'm ready," she said.
Arthur hesitated. For a moment, he seemed strangely uncertain of himself. Then he said, "All right, let's go."
By the time they arrived at the Copeland home, Sue was in a foggy haze. She was not used to drinking. She met people whose names she could not remember. Each time she was introduced to a man, she giggled. She wondered whether she would be able to crawl into bed with a total stranger when the time came.
Even with her heavy load of drinks, she did not like Grant Copeland. He had such lecherous little pig eyes. But he seemed to like her. He even reached out and tweaked one of her titties and Sue was forced to grin although she was cringing inside.
While Grant talked to Sue, Arthur slipped away to talk to Peggy. "Keep her from getting too bombed," he said. "If the old man finds her in bed loaded, it's going to look too much like a put-up job. I'll give you the high-sign when to call Jeff."
She nodded. He patted her shoulder. He was pleased with himself. "After he gets here, give the party a little time to get into high gear. I'm going to duck out right after I signal you. I'll be waiting in the phone booth near the Colonel's house. You have the number, don't you?"
She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. She did not like what she was doing. She liked even less the fact that she was taking orders from Arthur.
"After tonight, baby, it'll be just you and me, all the way," he gloated. "I'll fix both of them."
For a moment, Peggy hung on the brink of telling him to go to hell, that she wanted no part of his rotten scheme, but a glance at Sue touched the jealousy in her. She said, "Grant will be ready to call the games in about a half hour. I'll make her drinks light ones."
"Good."
* * *
Jeff had nothing planned for the evening. He sat in his chair, letting his thoughts ramble about aimlessly. But there was one prominent figure that stood out in his brain-Sue Drake. He could not seem to get her out of his mind. Restlessness had ridden him ever since their first contact. Was he in love with her? If so, what could he do about it. He shot a quick look at Maria. She sat across the room from him, her hands busy with her needlework. Her face was serene. Her world was back in place, neat and orderly.
Then the phone rang.
"Jeff?" a woman's voice asked.
"Yes."
"This is Peggy."
He glanced quickly at Maria. Her attention was still on her sewing. Fortunately, he received numerous phone calls at home-from his men-so he was under no suspicion. Nevertheless, it made him nervous.
"What is it?" he asked coldly.
"Just thought you'd like to know that Sue is here. We're having one of our parties. She's getting pretty drunk. If you think anything about her at all, it might be a good idea if you came over."
Anger shot through him. That bastard, Arthur! "Where's Arthur?" he asked hotly.
"Oh, he's around somewhere. Last I saw of him he was testing the softness of Cissy's legs," she lied. "I think he has her picked out for the night." She giggled a little. "And you know who's feeding Sue drinks, don't you? Grant always was a good host."
Jeff heard music and laughter in the background. He swore to himself. He wanted to say something, but had to guard his words-Maria was good at looking unconcerned while she was listening intently. He had to choose a roundabout course. He said, "What do you mean, he's not on the job. What the hell does he think we're paying him to guard-a damn saloon!"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Peggy asked.
"Okay, I'll be right over. Maybe I can straighten him out." He hung up. He began to mutter angrily. "Damn guards. Every time you hire one, he turns out to be either a thief or a drunk. I've got to go down to the project and see if I can get a hold of someone else."
He dashed toward his bedroom. He snatched up fresh clothes. He was struggling into his jacket when he returned to the living room.
"I would think Arthur could handle some of these things," Maria said. "Why is it they always call you?"
"Hell, I don't know," he grumbled. Then he went out, practically running to his car. In a moment, the roar of the motor disappeared down the street as he raced toward the party.
Peggy was keeping a close watch on Sue. She made it a point to sit next to her to keep her from getting involved with one of the men at the party. Also, to keep Grant from pawing at her and frightening her away.
Sue's eyes sparkled with unnatural brightness. She was mushing her words and giggling too much.
"Do you know what kind of party this is?" Peggy asked her.
"Oh, sure," Sue replied with false bravado.
"Aren't you scared?"
"A little."
"Then why don't you leave?"
"I can't." Her eyes kept going about the room as though looking for someone.
"Looking for someone in particular?" Peggy asked. "I can assure you, every man here is good. If he wasn't, Grant wouldn't have him. Nor would I, for that matter."
"Do you know Jeff Marston?" Sue asked.
Peggy nodded. "Yes, I know him."
"Isn't he supposed to be here tonight?"
"I'm not sure. Grant made all the invitations." She looked at Sue carefully. My God, what a lamb, she thought. "Why? Is he the only one you'd be interested in?"
Sue looked at her strangely, as though she had not heard correctly. "I have to prove something," she said. "Have you ever been rejected by a man? Have you ever been told you weren't a woman? That's what Arthur has told me. I'd like to show him how much of a woman I am."
"And you've decided to prove it with Jeff Marston. What happens if he doesn't show up? You might get stuck with my husband. Have you thought of that?"
A perceptible shudder ran through Sue. She smiled tremulously. No, she hadn't thought of being with any man except Jeff. Oh, God, what if Jeff didn't show up!
"My husband is a disgusting pig," Peggy was saying. "He's got it hot for you, as you've probably noticed. He always likes to break in the new ones himself. Being the host, he has his choice, you know. You're it, baby. If you insist on staying, you'd better prepare yourself for every possible sexual experience you've ever dreamed of. He's ... "
Sue's face suddenly brightened. It drew Peggy's attention. Jeff Marston had come into the room. Peggy looked from Sue to Jeff. She's in love with him, Peggy thought. It was written all over her face. Fury suddenly surged inside her-fury against both Jeff and Sue.
Jeff saw them. He went straight across the room. He was on fire with rage.
"Sue, what are you doing here?" he asked heatedly.
She smiled a false smile. "Maybe I should ask you the same thing."
"I came here to get you," he said.
"I came with Arthur, I have to go with Arthur."
"You're going with me!" he snapped.
"I'm staying here," she said stubbornly.
"You little fool!" He glared at her with disgust in his eyes. Was she that drunk? He turned his attention to Peggy. "What did you have to do with this?"
Peggy shrugged. "She wants to play. I don't see where that's any of your business."
Jeff bent over and seized Sue's arm. "Come on, we're getting out of here."
"Arthur told me I was chicken. I've got to show him I'm not." Her head swayed. Her mind told her to be glad that Jeff had arrived, that he would get her out of this mess. Her mind also did some strange reversing in its drunken state. It told her to prove to her husband that she was not afraid, that she was all woman. It ordered her to prove it at any cost.
Peggy smiled. "Have fun, kiddies," she said. She moved away.
Grant Copeland had gone to the center of the room. His voice was booming loudly. "All right, this is going to be the Caveman's Special. All the ladies will go to a bedroom, the men will make their choice in the dark. Okay, ladies, on your way!"
A chorus of laughter and wild squeals filled the room as the women rushed for the stairs that led to the bedrooms.
Grant's eyes fastened on Sue. He was almost drooling.
Jeff did not know whether to haul Sue out of the place bodily or give up and go home. Then he got an idea. He leaned over and whispered to Sue. She frowned, then whispered something back to him.
"Come on, come on," Grant yelled. "Let's get moving."
Sue rose to her feet. "Ta, ta," she giggled, wiggling her fingers under Jeff's nose.
Jeff watched as she disappeared up the stairs. Then he turned and looked at Peggy.
She smiled at him. "You know where to find her. I'd hurry if I were you. Grant has that hungry look tonight and he knows where she is, too."
Jeff was momentarily stunned. He was sure he had seen jealousy burning in Peggy's eyes earlier. Now she was trying to help him. All he could say was, "Thanks."
Peggy smiled, then burst into brief laughter. She hoped he would meet Grant at the bedroom door. She crossed the room to the phone. It was time to call Arthur.
When Jeff reached the top of the stairs, he found the long, dark hallway that led between at least eight doors. He had trouble remembering what room Sue told him she would be in. He yanked one open.
A woman shrieked. "I have someone already." It was not Sue's voice.
"What happens if you get your own wife?" a man called out.
"Tough titty," someone laughed.
"Christ, I wouldn't want to get a hold of her. That old sawmill of hers has seen its best days."
"You can say that again," a low voice said, obviously a man who knew the first man's wife.
Animals, Jeff thought. All of them groping along a dark hallway, hoping to find a new thrill. The women-pigs behind those doors-were no better. He wondered where Arthur was, who he was with. No doubt that hot-pants Cissy had dragged him to a bedroom before the game even started. He pushed two men roughly aside, ignoring their growls, and made his way toward the end of the hall, remembering now that is where Sue said she would be. At the end, he spotted the fat, disgusting figure of Grant Copeland. He had evidently come up the back way. He closed in on him fast.
"Get away from that door, Grant," Jeff ordered.
Grant peered at him. "Oh, it's you, Jeff," he said. "So you've got your eye on those knockers of Sue's, too, eh? Well, sorry, old man, I got here first."
The anger surged up in Jeff and engulfed him. Before he knew what happened, his fist had sunk into the huge belly of his host. It was an explosive punch. Grant doubled over, tried to talk but managed only to gasp.
Jeff rammed his shoulder into Grant's chest and straightened him up. Then he knocked him back against the wall with a violent jolt with the heel of his hand. Grant's teeth clicked with the force of the impact. The fat man slid down alongside the wall. He landed on his seat, his legs sticking out in front of him.
"Jesus, Jeff, you didn't have to get so rough," Grant wheezed. "No woman means that much to me."
Jeff turned the knob and went into the room. He saw the dark silhouette of a woman sitting up in bed. There was the sound of a soft gasp.
"Sue?"
"Jeff?"
"Don't be afraid, Sue. I've come to take you home."
He crossed over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. He silently gripped her shoulders. A tremor swept through him at the feel of her bare flesh.
"Oh, Jeff, I don't know what came over me."
"Why on earth did you ever come here in the first place?"
"I came because I heard you were going to be here," she said. "At first I was shocked, then I got mad. I just couldn't see why you'd have to get involved in anything like this. I just couldn't believe it."
Things began to clear in Jeff's mind. Someone had set them up, that was clear. Someone wanted them both to be here-and together. His stomach felt suddenly as though a live porcupine had been tossed into it.
"Come on, we've got to get out of here," he said. He took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet at the same time he stood up himself.
The liquor made her giggle a little. "But, Jeff, we're in a bedroom together, all alone. No one will disturb us ... "
"Sue! You don't understand. We can't stay here. And, good God, we sure can't do what you're thinking. Come on."
She turned and looked down at the thick, expensive bed. There was a momentary look of longing in her eyes. "Seems such a shame," she murmured.
"There's a back stairway. We can go out that way."
They went to the door with Jeff holding onto Sue's arm. She tried to snuggle against him, but he jerked her erect. They went out into the dark hallway, paused for a moment to get their bearings, then started down the steps. Behind them, they could hear the sounds from the rooms, women giggling, men grunting and talking, the pounding of bodies against the groaning beds. Loud music drifted up from downstairs.
* * *
Arthur had sped to the phone booth near the Colonel's house, made his call, then raced back to Copeland's. He wanted to be on hand when the Colonel walked in on Jeff and Sue. That was too good a scene to miss.
He parked his car among the many others, got out, and strolled toward the house. He leaned against one of the pillars near the front door and lit a cigarette. It would not be long before the Colonel would come roaring up the street, fuming with rage. He hummed lightly as he waited.
Mistake.
Jeff and Sue slipped silently out the back door and started around to the front where Jeff's car was parked. As they rounded the corner of the house, Jeff's fingers tightened on Sue's arm. He dipped his head toward Arthur.
Sue's hand flew to her mouth. She gasped, but Arthur's humming had drowned it out.
Jeff's brain whirred. His first impulse was to stride up to Arthur and knock the hell out of him. Then his brain told him that was the wrong thing to do. It would gain him nothing. If Arthur had set him up, then why not do the same to him?
"Stay here," Jeff told Sue.
He let go of Sue's arm and walked silently toward the spot where Arthur was standing. Arthur was too self-satisfied to be alert. He was watching casually down the road in the direction from which the Colonel would arrive. He did not see Jeff until Jeff was a short six feet from him.
"Hello, Arthur," Jeff said calmly. "What are you doing out here?"
"I, ah, I was just ... "
"Waiting for someone?" Jeff had already reasoned that if he and Sue had been led into a trap it would be for only one person-the Colonel. No one else would care in the least who he went to bed with except perhaps Maria and he was sure she would never return to the Copeland house under any conditions.
Jeff moved a little closer. With one lightning shot of his right hand, he caught Arthur on the chin. Arthur went down. He was out cold.
Jeff heard Sue whimper as he hoisted Arthur onto his shoulders and started back around the house.
"Why did you do that?" Sue asked.
"He's easier to handle unconscious," Jeff grunted. "Go ahead of me and open the door."
Sue frowned. But she obeyed.
Jeff labored up the rear stairs with his cargo. He went directly to the room that had been set aside for he and Sue. He dumped the unconscious man onto the bed, then quickly began to pull the clothes from him. Sue helped, but did not understand why she was doing it.
When Arthur was completely naked, Jeff looked at him for a moment, then went to the door. "Now I've got to find a playmate for him," he said. He went down the hall and strode boldly into one of the rooms, flipping the light on.
A woman was sprawled on the bed, her feet resting on the floor. A bald, slightly built man was on his knees between her legs. He looked up, his face startled under a glistening wet sheen. The woman, lost in an ecstatic trance, only grunted.
"Sorry, old man, but I've got to borrow her for a while," Jeff said. He went to the side of the bed, took the woman's hand.
The little man looked scared. He rose unsteadily to his feet and started for his clothes. A rather small but stiff little pecker stood away from his body. It sagged quickly.
Jeff had pulled the surprised but drunken woman to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
"Come on, sweetheart," Jeff said soothingly, "time for some real action down the hall."
"Oooh, really?" she asked, brightening. She looked Jeff up and down. Obviously, she liked what she saw.
Jeff put his hand on his crotch, gripped as though grabbing at a handful of baseballs, and said, "Yeah, baby, this thing needs you." He reached out and pulled her to her feet, then guided her to the door.
Sue was standing in the doorway to the bedroom when Jeff arrived with the naked woman under his guidance. There was a look of anger and bewilderment on her face.
"Where'd you find her?" Sue asked.
"I saved her life," Jeff smiled. "A little man was trying to eat her up."
"What are you going to do with her?"
"Tell her to mind her own business, lover," the woman said, pressing herself against Jeff. "You and I know what we want."
Jeff steered her into the room. "Right over here, baby," he said softly. "This guy has been asking about you. He's really hot for you." He pointed down at Arthur's naked body. Despite what Arthur was otherwise, he was well hung. The woman noticed that feature quickly. But she was puzzled.
"Am I with you or him?" she asked, looking up at Jeff, then quickly back at Arthur's large, but limp cock.
"Both of us," Jeff replied. Behind her back, he made a shooing motion to Sue. "But first, let me get rid of that cold-assed little bitch I was with. Get in bed and work on my friend a while. I'll be right back."
Eager to comply, the drunken woman fell onto the bed and immediately began to toy with Arthur's cock. And before Jeff had even closed the door, she had the flaccid flesh in her mouth and was sucking furiously.
Jeff was pretty sure Arthur would be out for quite a while. He had clouted him a pretty good shot. Anyway, if he came to while that hot broad was working him over, he wouldn't be too anxious to get away.
"Come on, sweetheart," he said to Sue, "let's get out of here and wait for the fireworks."
"I don't understand what's going on," she said.
"You will," he said, smiling.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Peggy Copeland walked down to the recreation room. This was one party where she had decided not to take part in the upstairs bedroom sessions. She had counted on being with Jeff but when Arthur set up his little scheme she knew that was out of the question.
Grant sat slumped in a chair in the corner. He held his stomach and moaned. "I didn't know Jeff was such a sorehead," he said. "That's the last time we ever have him over."
Peggy looked at her fat husband. She wanted to tell him about the frame-up, but there was really no point. He would have enough to think about when the Colonel arrived and found Jeff and Sue together upstairs. She heard a car start up outside, gave it no more than a passing thought. "I don't think you'll have to worry about him too much anymore," she said.
Grant moaned again, held his stomach. "That bastard must have torn something loose inside. I still can't see a guy getting that pissed about a piece of ass."
"You seemed to want her badly enough. You were drooling all over her."
The Colonel did not bother to knock. He came banging through the front door, face flushed and fists clenched. "All right, where are they?" he demanded. He looked about him. "And where's Arthur?"
"I thought he was with you," Peggy said.
"Well, never mind," the Colonel groused. "Where are the other two?"
Peggy smiled sweetly. "Would you like me to escort you to the den of iniquity, Colonel, so you can see some firsthand love-action?"
"Don't try to be cute. Just show me where they are."
Grant had looked on in silence. Now he turned to Peggy and asked, "What's this all about? Who's he looking for?"
"You'll see soon enough," Peggy said. "Ready, Colonel?"
"Yes, yes, let's get on with it."
The trio went silently up the stairs, Peggy leading the way. Some of the early excitement had died down in the bedrooms and the hallway seemed ominously still, although there were still the muffled sounds of lovemaking coming from behind closed doors. They stopped in front of the door at the far end of the hall.
Peggy drew a breath. She had a moment of misgiving. When she opened that door, Jeff would disappear forever from her life. But then the thought of Jeff lying in bed with Sue flashed through her mind. Her eyes narrowed as she turned the knob slowly and swung the door open.
The Colonel pushed past her and went directly to the bed. He was quivering with rage. He studied the two naked figures briefly. They were in a sixty-nine position, the man on top, slurping noisily between the woman's legs while his stiff cock drove in and out of the woman's mouth. Neither of them seemed to notice that they had a trio of interested onlookers. The Colonel motioned with an upward sweep of his hand that someone should turn on the light.
Grant was just inside the door. He moved his hand over the knob, flooding the room with light.
The Colonel was livid. In the sudden light and with anger boiling inside him, he saw only two naked figures. His set mind had already identified them as Jeff and Sue. He screamed, "You two! You two are a disgrace to humanity. You're a disgrace to everything that's decent!" The words poured out as though he had rehearsed them, which, in his well-organized way of life, he probably had. "Get up from there, you filthy pigs!"
Arthur jerked erect, blinked in the bright light. Despite having been knocked out by Jeff, his sexual urges were such that he served them first, before thinking of revenge. He stared at his father, his face wet and shining from his lapping between the woman's legs. The motion of his hips ground to a halt.
The Colonel had his mouth open, all ready to deliver the remainder of his speech. The words never came. His mouth hung open as the color drained from his face. And as the paleness crept over him, his body sagged like a crumpled overcoat.
"Oh, God ... " Arthur moaned, a stricken animal sound. He seemed to die at that moment. His eyes closed, his body went limp. He rolled to one side and buried his face in the bed clothes. His fingers clutched at the wrinkled sheets.
"Ar-Arthur ... Arthur," the Colonel murmured weakly. "How could you?"
The woman sat up and looked at the faces around her. "What's wrong, Peg?" she asked. "Are we changing partners again?"
"No, Laura, I'm afraid the party's over," Peggy said. And then, under her breath, she mumbled, "A lot of things are over."
For the Colonel, the walk down the hallway was a thousand miles long. He trudged it like a condemned man. His head hung low and he muttered while he walked. Grant and Peggy walked slowly behind him.
"I don't understand, Peggy," Grant said. "Who told him his son was in that room? I thought ... " His mind was fogged with liquor but through the haze the picture of Jeff and Sue going into that bedroom stood out. He had taken a good shot in the stomach because of it. He leaned toward his wife and whispered, "I thought Jeff and Sue were in there. How the hell did Arthur wind up there?"
"I-I don't know ... I honestly don't know," she replied.
But if some of the starch had gone out of the Colonel, his well-regimented mind quickly began to shore up and by the time the group reached the living room, he had already prepared a series of questions.
"Has Jeff Marston been here this evening?" he asked.
Peggy debated with herself. Everything was lost anyway, so why not make a clean sweep of the whole thing? With some embellishments of her own, of course. "Yes, he was here," she said. "But he didn't stay but ten minutes or so." Along with the bit of twisted truth, came a look of deep seriousness.
"And Sue. Was she here this evening?"
"Yes. Arthur brought her."
The Colonel frowned. He tilted his head to one side and scratched an index finger at his temple. "Then where is she? In one of the other bedrooms?"
"Of course not, Colonel," Peggy said. "Jeff took her home. I called him and told him to come and get her."
"I really don't understand what's going on," the old man said. "Arthur called me at home and told me that Jeff and Sue had ... had gone to bed together, that I should come right over if I wanted to see for myself." He shot a glance to the stairs. "Why on earth would he call me and let me find him like ... like that?" He jabbed an angry finger toward the upstairs bedroom. "It doesn't make sense."
"Are you sure it was Arthur who called you?"
"Of course I am. I know my own son's voice," the Colonel snapped. "And from what I could tell, he wasn't drinking." He paced about the room, pounding his fist into his palm. He arrived back in front of Peggy. "You said you called Jeff to have him come and get Sue. Why was that necessary?"
"Arthur had a ... well, a thing going," Peggy lied. "He wanted to stay, Sue didn't. He wouldn't take her home, so I called Jeff. He was good enough to come right over and get her out of here."
The Colonel turned and glared at Grant. "Damn you and your filthy parties, Grant!" he growled. "Even your wife doesn't seem to approve." His body grew rigid with a new anger. "Under the circumstances, I believe it would be best for both of us if we severed our relationship, both business and personal. I will instruct Jeff to bring the figures up to date on the materials we've bought to date. Austin will have a check ready for you in a day or so. That, I believe, should conclude our business for the evening."
"But, Colonel ... " Grant cried.
The little man ignored him. He had already turned to Peggy. "Thank you, Mrs. Copeland, for salvaging the decency of my daughter-in-law. Who knows what might have happened to her here tonight. Good evening."
"Colonel ... please," Grant pleaded. "Let's talk this thing over."
"My conversation with you has come to an end, Grant. Good night." He stalked to the door and went out.
* * *
Jeff and Sue had hurried to his car after depositing Arthur in the bedroom. "If my theory is right, the Colonel should be along pretty soon," Jeff said.
Because Jeff had been the last to arrive at the Copeland house, his car was parked some distance away. In fact, it was the last available spot. There was a car to one side of his, high shrubbery on the other.
"Sue, I love you," he said as soon as they had settled themselves in the car.
"I love you, too, Jeff."
He pulled her to him. His lips found hers. He kissed her long and hard. It was the most expressive kiss he had ever delivered in his life and his heart began to pound when he realized he was genuinely in love. His hands went instinctively to her breasts. The gown was low cut enough so that he was able to run his hand inside with ease.
"Oh, Jeff ... darling," she sighed.
Bending down, he kissed her cleft, then eased the luscious mound out and touched the eraser-like knob with his tongue, then nibbled at first one, then the other. He lost himself in the feel of her. He was aware of a pressure at the back of his head. Her hands were there, pressing his mouth even closer and tighter against her.
She was breathing heavily already. Her hands stroked the back of his head as she heaved her breasts toward him. She ran her hands down his chest, unbuttoning several buttons on the way. Then her hand was on his bare skin. Her fingertips danced in the hair of his chest, making finger-painting motions across the surface. Then she dipped low and took hold of the hard knob in his pants.
It brought him to sudden awareness. He said, "Oh, no."
"Wh-what's wrong?" she asked. "Did I do something?"
He gave her a quick peck on the lips. "No, darling, it's nothing you did. It's us. We're at it again-in the car. When are we ever going to go some place where we can be comfortable?"
It was shortly after when the Colonel's car sped into the drive. Jeff and Sue watched as the stiff little man stalked into the house. Then Jeff started the car and eased out of the drive and onto the street, lights out.
"Where are we going?" Sue asked.
"Anywhere but around here."
She snuggled up to him as he drove, her hand gripping the hot stalk between his legs. She eased the zipper down and ran her hand inside to bring the bludgeon of solid meat out. With a quick dip, she ducked down and kissed the swollen head, then rose again.
"Hey, you want me to ram this thing into a tree?" he laughed. "You do that again and we'll go hurtling into the brambles alongside the road."
"I like to do that. Would you like me to do it to you while you drive?"
"You want to wreck us?"
She ignored him. Her head sunk into his lap. He moved his hips toward her a little to allow for the steering wheel. She put the plum-like head in her mouth and sucked it tenderly. One hand went under his balls and lifted them from his pants. Because of the confining space, she was unable to minister to the stiff prick the way she wanted to and after a time eased her mouth off it.
"I'll let it rest a while," she said. She patted the wet cock-head and pushed it back into his pants, then zipped him up. "Where are we going?"
"I should take you to my house," he said. "I'm sure Maria wouldn't give a damn." He turned the idea over in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Arthur's marriage was through as of tonight. She would be free. But he didn't relish the idea of sneaking around to be with her. Maria stood in his way. "You know," he said at last, "that's not the worst idea I ever came up with. Why don't we go to my house?"
"Are you crazy? Maria would kill both of us."
"Not if she didn't know we were there until it was too late. You're all through with Arthur, so why don't we fix it up so I'll get my freedom, too?"
"I-I don't know, Jeff. You'd be making me a part of something that should be between you and Maria."
"Would you rather I found someone else to take to my bed?"
A little quiver of fear ran through her. She didn't want to share Jeff with anyone. He was not serious, she knew, yet the thought of him going to bed with another woman disturbed her. "If ... if you think it would work ... "
"Honey, once she sees me in bed with someone else, she'll fly out of that house like she's been shot out of a cannon. Hell, let's do it! At least we'll get what we want and to hell with what anybody else thinks or says."
"I think you're completely insane, Jeff Marston-but I love you," she said happily.
He guided the car to his street, switching off the lights when he was half a block from his house. He eased the car into the driveway, turned off the motor.
The house was dark, as he had expected it would be. He had come home to a dark house many times during his marriage. Maria did not believe in waiting up for him or leaving a light on. He had long ago interpreted that as a sign that she cared only for herself, nothing for him. Waiting up for him or leaving a light burning meant he was welcome, that she was at least minutely concerned about him.
"I'm scared," Sue breathed.
But his strong grip on her upper arm was an assurance to her that he knew what he was doing. Or that he thought he did.
The house was as quiet as it was dark. The two figures moved through it like vague shadows.
"In here," Jeff said. He eased open the door to his bedroom, adjacent to the one Maria had insisted on having to herself since the first day of their marriage. There was no connecting door, of course.
The spacious room swallowed them up.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Darling," Sue whispered into Jeff's ear as soon as he had closed the door behind them, "I want to love you my way the first time ... please." She dabbed her tongue in his ear to send shivers up his spine.
"Whatever makes you happy," he whispered in return.
And while she watched him disrobe-casually and slowly-she slipped out of her own clothes.
They stood facing each other for a moment, hungry, urgent looks in their eyes.
His eyes swept over her, from her protruding breasts down to the dark thicket of hair between her legs. She, in turn, took in the full length of his body with eager, glistening eyes. She saw that his cock was almost to its hardest and stood away from his body like a timber propped at an angle, its base, thick and strong, anchored in a heavy thatch of black hair. The head was a deep red, enlarged and flared-a long-stemmed mushroom-beaming its single eye at her.
"Oh, golly," she gushed.
She moved up to him and pressed her warm, supple body to his, flattening her breasts against his chest. She felt the hot pole against her belly and moved her lower body to feel its velvet sheath roll on her skin. She snaked a hand between them and took hold of the blushing head and squeezed it like a rubber ball. She raised up slightly to bring her lips to his.
"Darling ... darling ... " she sighed. "Oh, this is so insane, but I love it."
Jeff put one hand under her breast and lowered his head to it as he raised it slightly. He sucked in the jutting pink nipple. He licked it lightly, then rolled it between his teeth, gently but rapidly, moving the rubbery nub back and forth with his tongue as his lips wet the aureole. Sue drew in a ragged breath and thrust her chest toward him. He put his hand on her other tit and massaged it. She took his head in her hands and moved his lips to her other boob.
He sucked on each, going from one to the other, bending his lower body away from her so that was free to fondle his rigid tool. He squeezed and rolled the soft pliant flesh of her tits with both hands. Then he moved backward, still holding her, until they were beside the bed, and sat down. Then he reached up and put both hands behind her neck. He put a gentle pressure on her.
She got the message. Willingly, she slid down his body, kissing his chest, then his stomach. The feel of hair on her lips thrilled her. She brushed her head from side to side, sometimes extending the tip of her tongue, sometimes merely touching him with her lips. She gripped his cock and worked the loose sheath of skin back and forth, squeezing on the forward motion. As she squeezed the thick prick, a tiny bead of clear liquid oozed out of the slitted opening. She bent quickly and lashed her tongue across the head, licking up the transparent pearl.
She was on her knees between his legs. She clung to the rubber-headed lance with an urgent grip. She leaned forward and pressed it against the side of her face, then moved her head around so the hot shaft lay alongside her neck. She was cooing and murmuring softly as she made love to the torrid organ. She put her face into his crotch, holding the cock aside, and inhaled the aroma of his testicles. Her lips opened and she took his ball sack gently between them. She dabbed at the hairy bag with her tongue. She moved up the underside of his cock with gentle little nippings and lickings. When she was at the top, she pulled the loose skin down as far as it would go, then opened her mouth wide and sunk it over the head.
"Ummmhmmmm," she murmured.
She took the thick shaft in both hands and held it for a moment. Then her lips tightened around the glands as she moved her head slowly up and down. Her tongue swabbed the mushy head.
"Is that what you wanted to do?" he asked softly.
"Ummmmhmmmm," she murmured. Then she took her mouth off it and said, "I can't seem to get enough of it." Then she gulped it in once again and began a rapid sucking motion on it.
Caught up in a dizzying whirl of passion, Jeff gave himself completely to her, oblivious to everything else, as she slurped on his wet prick hungrily. And expertly, for she had learned a lot since that first time. He moved his hips up and down on the edge of the bed in a slow, easy rhythm and watched as the glistening shaft of meat slid in and out of her luscious mouth. She toyed with his balls as she sucked, sometimes holding them with both hands, other times lifting them gently with the tips of her fingers.
She pushed his legs wide apart and hunched down lower to lick at the base of his cock. She raised his ball sack out of the way and swabbed her tongue back and forth on the tender flesh below. Carried away suddenly, she put her face into the wet cavern and washed it back and forth, moistening her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. She was beside herself with ecstasy.
She murmured softly, a contented near-growl. "Ummmmm ... ummmm ... ummm ... "
She pulled her wet face from his crotch for a moment, looked at the glistening shaft. She opened her mouth wide and gnashed at its neck. Then she smeared the head across her eyes, pressing it into each socket, wiping it across her nose. She moved her face around so that its path described a circle, and held the hot cock against it.
"Oh, baby," he whispered hoarsely.
Her hips were undulating as she sucked. She moved closer and put his prick into the crevice between her tits. She licked his belly as she pressed the soft flesh against his crotch. She moved back, took one nipple and held it to the head of his cock. She moved the rubbery bud against the matching rubber. Then she took one hand away and slipped it between her own legs. With a slight digging motion, she found the opening to her cunt and began to move three fingers in and out of it.
"Ohh, darling ... darling. I can't stand it any longer," she hissed. "I've got to have it in me."
He ran his hands into her armpits and hoisted her bodily off the floor and onto the bed. He swung his body around so that he lay on his back beside her. He reached out and lifted her atop him. His cock lay flat on his belly and he set her on top of it. She began to slide her slippery cunt back and forth on it immediately. She moved so urgently that her tits jounced and dangled like flapping pennants. Within moments, she clenched her teeth and hissed gushing air through them. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders as the spasms gripped her and she let out a harsh, pain-like groan. She threw her legs out so that her total weight rested on her pussy. And his cock.
"Oh, darling, darling," she cried. "I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop. Oooohhh ... it felt so gooooooood ... "
Maria stirred. Slowly, she swam up from a deep sleep. A half moon beamed a yellow glow into the room. The lace curtain danced in the breeze of an open window, then fell limp as the breeze subsided momentarily. The fuzzy remnants of a dream disappeared, scattered by her unwilling awakening. It was strange how real some dreams were, she thought. It was almost as though someone had said something, something intimate and close.
Then she sat bolt upright as the soft murmur of a female voice sifted through the hissing of the breeze. She reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. The clock beside it showed 3 a.m.
Who in the world had come to the house at this time of night, she wondered. Sue, perhaps. Something was wrong. Something had happened to Arthur! Or the Colonel. As usual, Jeff's welfare entered her mind last.
She rose slowly, shakily. Her robe was thrown over the chair and she slipped into it as she went to the door. She tried to make out the voice, not only trying to determine who it belonged to, but also what was being said. She found no answer to either.
She opened the door silently and went out. She was prepared to hear of any number of disasters that might have befallen a member of her family, an accident at the project, an auto wreck, even a murder. But she was not prepared for what was in store for her in her husband's room.
Her heart stopped as she stepped in front of Jeff's door. The unmistakable sounds of a woman in some kind of agony swept through the door. There was a pain in her tone. She leaned her head toward the sound, but now it was only a muffled groaning and she shuddered at what she interpreted as the death throes of some unfortunate woman that Jeff was probably disposing of this very moment!
Silently and very carefully, she put her shaking hand on the knob and turned. There was no incriminating click as the door opened slightly. Through the narrow opening, Maria could see two figures, both of them naked, lying on the bed in reversed positions. She adjusted her eyes to the semi-darkness, trying to make out what was going on.
Suddenly, she felt as though all the bones had been somehow yanked out of her body. She felt limp. She tottered slightly as she fought to keep her balance, to keep from collapsing. She felt cold all over. She drew in a long, agonized breath. She closed her eyes, shook her head, then opened them again.
Jeff was lying on his back, eyes closed. His hands were on the back of Sue's head. Once again, she had an uncontrollable hunger to suck his cock and she was hungrily doing just that now. Jeff was doing nothing to her at the moment, being content to let Sue satisfy her craving for his dick.
Stunned into immobility, Maria stood and watched. At first, she was horrified. Then a slow fascination came over her, even though she tried to tell herself what she was observing was totally repugnant to her. She even managed to bring on a feeling of sickness in her stomach. Yet she looked-and said nothing. Nor did she do any more than look.
Then, in the back of her mind, an almost forgotten scene began to emerge. It came slowly, like a slow-moving ship on a far horizon, becoming minutely clearer.
She was a child again. Arthur was beside her. Dressed in their pajamas, they were standing wide-eyed outside their parents' bedroom, much as she stood here tonight. Impishly, they had sneaked out of bed, hoping to raid the cookie jar, when strange noises stopped them. Curiosity brought them closer to the slightly open door.
Their father, the mechanical disciplinarian, was seated in the center of the room. He was naked. There was an eerie, cruel look on his face, the dim light giving him a scary, ghostlike look. A rather thin, but stiff, shaft of flesh rose from between his legs.
Arthur stiffled a giggle. It was funny seeing his father like this. Maria only stared. The funny-looking stick and the patch of hair were startling to her. She had never seen what a boy looked like, let alone a grown man.
At one side of the room, their mother was crying softly. Any thoughts of barging in to protect her were remote in their young minds. Severe slaps across the face in the past quelled any such notions.
The hard little man sat like a dictator on the wooden chair. "All right, quit that sniveling and get over here," he ordered. "You know what I want you to do. Come on." He beckoned to her with the rapid movement of one hand. "Take care of this thing." He crooked a finger at his cock.
"No ... please," she cried.
"Over here!"
"You know I don't like to do that," she protested. "It makes me sick."
"Get your goddamn ass over here! Now!"
"Oh, Haskell, please ... "
He slid down a little in the chair and spread his legs. He was sitting in a position so that the two startled children had a side view of him. He took hold of his cock and waggled it at her. "You're lucky I let you suck on it, my dear. You know, some men won't allow their women to. You should feel honored."
She looked at him with fear etching her face. She looked down at his stiff little prick and the look of fear was replaced by one of nausea. She closed her eyes and shuddered.
"Come on, just a few sucks tonight." His voice was calm.
Reluctantly, she moved across the room toward him. She was wearing a long, cotton nightgown. She stopped in front of him. There was a look of resignation on her face. She knew it was useless to protest any further. She knelt in front of him.
He smiled lewdly, and leaned back on the chair. "Do a nice job now, dear. You know how I like it." He reached out and put one hand behind her head. He jerked her forward. "Come on now-suck!" he growled.
Terrified, the two children watched as their mother's mouth opened and went to the stiff rod. She looked as though she might vomit. His hands coiled in her hair, twisting it so that she winced. Then she began to suck the little cock, her head bobbing up and down in his crotch, her arms stiffly at her side.
She raised up for a moment, drew a breath. She was rewarded with a resounding slap alongside the head. She lurched to one side but did not fall.
"Get back to work!" he snapped. "God damn it, I was just getting ready to come."
And when she returned to complete the job, he rocked and jerked in the chair, driving his cock into her, pulling on her hair when she moved too far away. She tried to pull her mouth off it when the spasms of orgasm gripped him, but he held her fast. Her eyes filled with tears as she was forced to accept the spurting hot semen. When she was finally released, she turned and spit the sperm on the floor at his feet. She rose unsteadily, turned and hurried into the bathroom. The sound of spitting and running water filled the room.
Maria recalled how revolted she had been for a long time afterward. The scene stood out so vividly that she often got up from the table and went to her room, fearful she might be sick. She never discussed what they had seen with Arthur, but it was in his eyes, as it was in hers.
Now, as she stood and watched Sue running her mouth up and down on Jeff's cock, the same feeling of revulsion swept over her. The fascination had disappeared. She felt sick again.
But even if Maria was sick and revolted over what she was watching, there was a touch of envy deep inside her, too, for now she realized that both of the people in that room were deriving a great deal of pleasure from what they were doing. She envied Sue for getting pleasure out of doing it; she envied Jeff for enjoying it.
Had she been wrong all these years?
Her first impulse had been to storm into the room and confront the two. Now she realized that would solve nothing. If Jeff had nerve enough to bring Sue to his own house and have intercourse-and a lot of other things-with her, then what good would a confrontation do?
As she quietly pulled the door shut, she realized she had lost. Hatred grew in her. At first she hated herself for having been so puritanical about sex, then she turned her hate to her father for having instilled in her the feeling that sex was dirty and disgusting. Had he not been so tyrannical in his demands for sexual satisfaction, perhaps she might have looked at that very same act as something to be enjoyed, a pleasurable experience between man and woman.
Oh, father, damn you!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sometime during the night, Jeff and Sue slipped out of the house. Both the booze and the passion had gone out of their systems, taking with it the bravado of letting themselves get caught by Maria. Suddenly, it did not seem like such a good idea.
Jeff, of course, had no idea that Maria had observed them in his bedroom. When he returned from taking Sue home, he went directly to his room and went to bed. He had heard nothing from Maria's room. He was exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.
The first word he had from Sue was when he called her Sunday morning. Maria was not home, nor had she come home yet. Sue told him that Arthur had not come home, either.
"Are you sure you still want to go through with it?" Sue asked.
"Of course," he replied. "I have nothing here. I'm waiting for Maria to come home so I can talk to her. She's probably at the Colonel's."
"I'm sure Arthur's there, too," she said softly. "I'm afraid that thing last night is going to blow the whole family apart and I don't want to be around when that happens. I'm going to pack my things right now. I'll leave him a note."
"If Maria doesn't come home, I might do the same thing myself." He was silent for a moment. "Do you suppose she might know what we did last night? Things got a little hectic, you know."
"I have no idea, Jeff. You're not worried, are you?"
"Hell, no."
"Good," she said. "Just one thing, darling, just one more day."
"Right," he said firmly. "Just one more day of hell."
Jeff wandered about the empty house, his frustrations growing with each passing minute. He wanted to see Maria and get it over with. He thought of going to the Colonel's, but decided against it. No doubt a big hassle was going on over there between the old man and Arthur.
His home had always felt strange to him and now, with Maria gone, it felt even more strange. After tomorrow, it would no longer exist. He packed two bags with his personal belongings.
Maria did not show up the following morning, either. Jeff dressed, ate breakfast, then took off for the office. He intended to tender his resignation at once to the Colonel. After that, he would work something out. It was going to be a stormy morning, he realized, as stormy as the sky above. The radio this morning had mentioned the possibility of a tornado. The sky looked it. A sullen, ominous blackness hung overhead. The air was still, the heat oppressive.
Pete Austin's car was the only one in the lot; Jeff parked beside it.
He walked into the office. Austin turned a gloomy face to him. "We're going to get it," Austin said. "They're predicting an alert by this afternoon."
Jeff shrugged indifferently. He was having a tornado all his own inside of him. "When do you expect the Colonel?"
Austin looked at the clock. "He's usually here by now." He then added, "I'm not staying in this flimsy office." He was annoyed at Jeff's indifference. "Haven't you got enough sense to worry about a tornado?"
"Sure I have, but I've got a lot of other things on my mind right now."
An hour passed. Neither the Colonel or Arthur arrived. Jeff took care of some paper work, wandered around the office, and thought about what the Colonel might be doing to Arthur.
The phone rang. Austin answered it. "It's for you."
"Hello," Jeff said.
"Hello, darling." It was Sue.
"I wanted you to know that I've moved," she said. "I'm staying with Trudy." She gave him the address and phone number.
Trudy Compton lived in Floral City, a development some four miles from Indian Bow Retreats. She was a divorcee and lived with her two children.
"Fine, I'll get in touch with you there if anything comes up," he said.
"Arthur never did come home, Jeff. I packed and moved this morning, something I should have done long ago."
He told her he was waiting for the Colonel. After that, he would try to find Maria and let her know that everything was over between them. "I'll see you later today."
Jeff replaced the receiver. He turned to find Austin staring at him.
"I couldn't help but hear," Austin said. "Are you serious?"
"I've never been more serious in my life. I'm going to let the Colonel have his little project and I'm going to let him have his daughter, too. Maybe the Drakes will all be happy then."
The news seemed to depress Austin. He nodded gloomily. But then, that was nothing new; Pete Austin was born gloomy.
Jeff walked to the door and looked out. He studied the sky, frowned. He did not need a tornado thrown into his life, too. He turned to find Austin bent close to a small radio on his desk.
"I knew it," Austin said. "We've got an alert." He put his head closer to the set and turned up the volume. The storm was in the area, the announcer said. People were to take every precaution. Austin's face seemed filled with morbid satisfaction, like an undertaker who has measured the burial box correctly. "I'm getting out of here. One puff of wind, and this place is gone." He paused at the door, nodded to Jeff.
The office was filled with deadly quiet after Austin left. Jeff paced the floor, and found curious reassurance in the sound of his own footsteps. Something, at least, was stirring this dead world. He kept looking up at the sky. The blackness now had an underlying green cast to it. Jeff gazed upward in awe. He wished he had someone to talk to. A low rumble in the distance made him realize that the flimsy office was no place to be in a tornado. Furthermore, if there was danger, he should be with Sue, not in the office.
He ran out the door. He was going to Sue. It was a happy thought. He did not waste any time once he was out of the lot. He had just passed by the little Indian Bow park when he spotted a car at the side of the road with its hood up. Tommy Drake was bent into the motor. Jeff screeched to a stop.
"You'd better get the hell out of here!" Jeff yelled. "That storm could whip your ass into the next county."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Tommy said, turning his head to Jeff from under the hood.
"Come on, Tommy, let's get out of here," Jeff called. "Look over there." He pointed to an ominous sky.
"I'll get this can started in a minute. Don't worry about it."
There was a far-off sound, something like the low rumble of a freight train. The sound increased until it was a deafening roar. A terrifying wind suddenly engulfed the area. The hood of Tommy's car was bent backward, then was torn away. Jeff had felt his car rock with the force and plunged out of the door onto his hands and knees. He looked at the sky. A great elephant's trunk hung low in the southwestern sky, its tip twisting and squirming obscenely along the ground. It swooped up trees, cars, houses and debris into its coiled center.
Tommy seemed paralyzed with fear. His mouth hung open as he clutched at the fender of his car and watched the awesome destruction approach.
Jeff, himself immobilized with fear, thought fast. He looked for a low spot, somewhere to lie flat and let the raging wind pass over him. He decided on a ditch behind the park where a sewer main was being put in. He ran over to Tommy and slapped him across the face three times.
"Come on," he yelled. "Let's get out of here! Follow me!"
Running was an effort. He dared not look behind him to locate the snout of the twister. He was afraid the sight would stop his heart. He knew it was very close. The roar of the tornado's winds battered his ears. He ran for the little ditch in the park. Although he was racing at full speed, he did not think he could make it. He dived headlong into the ditch.
As protection, the ditch was pitiful. It could not have been more than a foot or so deep. Something heavy landed across his legs. It was Tommy. Throwing a protective arm across the boy's shoulders, Jeff dug the fingers of his other hand into the earth. Their bodies pressed against the ground, the two waited in mute terror.
The terrible winds came upon them fully now. Like mighty hands, they sought to pluck the two cowering humans out of the ditch. Jeff heard Tommy scream. He desperately tightened his grip on the lad. He was not sure that he, too, was yelling.
It seemed like an eon but actually it lasted only a few seconds. But in those few seconds, both man and boy lived an eternity. The roar diminished as the winds passed on.
"Is it over?" Tommy asked.
"It sounds like it. At least the worst of it is."
"I didn't think we were going to make it."
"I had some doubts myself."
With that, Tommy pulled himself up and took off running.
Jeff, puzzled, got up and raced after him.
There was desolation everywhere. Women were screaming, and there were children crying. They found his own house intact-or almost intact. Just one corner of the roof had been ripped away. Compared to the other houses, the damage was slight.
When Jeff stood panting in front of his house, Maria came from the back yard. She looked clean, composed. Jeff contrasted her appearance with the other women he had seen along the way. For some reason, her cleanliness seemed almost obscene.
Maria stared at Jeff. "Look what's happened to our lovely house." She seemed angry instead of thankful to be alive.
Jeff shrugged, too numb to speak.
"And you don't even care," she said bitingly. "You didn't even care enough to be here."
Tommy's astonishment turned to anger. "Don't talk to him like that, Sis. He saved my life. You're not even scratched, so what are you complaining about?"
"Tommy! How dare you take up for him?"
Jeff was not surprised at Maria's attitude. He asked, "How are things at the Colonel's? You were there, weren't you?"
"Everything's fine," she clipped.
"And Arthur's?"
"A little damage, not much," she said coldly. "You might have asked about Arthur. He's hurt, you know."
"Hurt? How bad?"
"They think he has a broken back. He may never walk again." She looked at Tommy, who had turned pale. "We'd better go to the hospital." Then her eyes swung back to Jeff. "I don't suppose you're interested. Maybe you'd better check to see how Sue is getting along." She snatched at Tommy's arm and said, "Come on, dear."
Jeff watched them leave. Maria's small car was still in working condition, and the two of them sped off. He shook his head, pursed his lips.
Sue!
He raced into the house and snatched up the telephone. He dug in his pocket for the number she had given him. He was relieved when he heard the dial tone. At least there was still phone service.
"Is Sue Drake there?" he snapped as soon as the party on the other end picked up the phone. "Is she all right?"
"Just a minute, I'll let you talk to her," the female voice said calmly.
A relieved sigh swooshed out of Jeff. Sue was all right. The winds had missed Trudy's house altogether. Quickly, he told her of the damage he had seen and also about Arthur.
"I guess we'd better get up to the hospital," he said.
She was silent for a time, then said softly, "I wish this thing wouldn't have happened. Not now, at least. I'm going to feel terrible when I see him."
"It was all over before this ever happened, Sue. I'm going to have to go through the same thing with Maria, although I don't think she gives a damn one way or the other. She's more worried about the house than she is about me. Besides, I think she knows something. She told me I'd better see how you were."
Sue asked him to pick her up, but when he told her his car had been tipped over, she agreed to drive to his house. Within ten minutes, she was in the driveway. In another five, they were at the hospital.
In the waiting room, they found the Drake clan in a huddle, looking like conspirators from the enemy's camp.
The Colonel was the first to speak. "Arthur's hurt pretty bad. The doctor says he may never walk again." He said it matter-of-factly; sentiment was a sign of weakness.
"That's too bad," Jeff said. His eyes sought Sue's. She looked away. The message was clear to him. She would be the worst kind of human being to divorce a crippled man.
"When can I see him?" Sue asked, her voice flat.
"The doctor said only one at a time," the Colonel replied. "You know how close Maria and Arthur are, so perhaps it would be best if Maria went in first."
Silence fell on the group. Jeff was sorry for the old man. The little tyrant seemed to have aged ten years. His eyes were dull and the stiff lines of his face had crumbled. His hands made vague, plucking motions at his clothing. The Colonel suddenly sighed. "I didn't believe it would ever happen. Indian Bow Retreat is no more. It's flattened."
He turned a haggard face to Jeff. "Jeff, you'll help me rebuild, won't you? With Arthur hurt, it's going to be hard on just the two of us, but we can do it."
Jeff looked at him for a moment, then shot a quick glance at Sue. Gently, he said, "I won't be around to help you, sir. I'm going to Florida."
The Colonel gave him a startled look. His jaw worked several times before the words came out. "You're joking. This is no time to take a vacation. How can you think of taking time off at a time like this?"
"I'm not going for a vacation, Colonel," Jeff said evenly. "I'm going there to live."
The Colonel's jaw sagged. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts. He tried to bluster. "I thought you had more guts than to let a little storm make you run. What do you plan to do down there?"
"Build."
The Colonel sneered. "It takes money to build."
"I think I have enough to get started," Jeff said calmly. "If I don't, I can always work as a carpenter."
"Use your head, man. Stay here. I insist on it."
Jeff smiled. "Colonel, you're not talking to Maria or Arthur or Tommy now. I don't have to take orders from you."
That took most of the fight out of the old man. "Jeff, you wouldn't leave me now, would you? Not when I need you, not after all I've done for you."
There were a lot of things Jeff could have told him after that remark, but he did not. He said simply, "Yes I would."
"Maria won't agree to pulling out. She won't leave here."
Jeff looked at the old man carefully. "I don't recall asking her to come with me, Colonel. In fact, I won't take her. She stays with you. You're going to have your whole family all to yourself again. Maria and I are through. Sue and Arthur are all through. Sue and I are going to start over and live the kind of life you wouldn't let any of us live here. Now, Colonel, I don't like to lay this on you at a time like this but I think you realized you can't run other people's lives. Goddamn it, live your own life and leave everyone else alone. You're no dictator and you're not God, so where do you get off trying to tell everyone else what to do?"
Tommy came to life then. "I'm not staying here," he said sharply. "If Jeff says it's okay, I'll go with him."
"Tommy, you don't know what you're saying. What can he give you?"
"Freedom. I don't have it here, that's for damned sure. I can see what Jeff means. You strangle everybody. You never gave me anything important to do. All I ever did was mow the lawn and take out the garbage. You wouldn't even let me work as a common laborer down at the project."
"I forbid you to leave!" the Colonel snapped.
Tommy's face turned into an angry grimace. "Dad, I don't want to grow up and be like you, to have everybody hate me. And Arthur is going to be the same way if he sticks with you. If you don't let me go, I'll run away. And I'll keep running away until I can be something by myself instead of a puppet with you pulling the strings, without being told what to do and how to do it every minute of the day. You're trying to steal my mind!"
"Yes, you'd like a little more freedom so you could chase all over the streets and do as you please, just like all the other young hoodlums. That would suit you fine, wouldn't it? Now, son, listen to me. I'm trying to do what's best for you. You can't just turn your back on everything I've done for you."
Tommy looked at his father evenly. "Yes, I'd like to be on my own. I'm sorry, Dad, but I just can't take this anymore."
"All right! Go with him! But when you see things aren't the way you think they are, don't come crawling back here because you won't be welcome!"
"That might be his trouble, Colonel," Jeff said. "He's been crawling all his life. Maybe he'd like to stand on his feet and be a man. If he comes with me, I'll give him that chance. All anyone wants is a chance."
The doctor came into the room then. He was holding several sheets of X-rays. He smiled. "Good news," he said. "The X-rays show nothing broken. Arthur is only bruised a little. He can be out of here by tomorrow morning."
"Are ... are you sure?" the Colonel asked.
"Yes, I'm sure," the doctor said. "There's nothing wrong with him that a little rest won't cure."
Sue's eyes brightened. She looked at Jeff and saw a slow smile spread over his face. He went to her then. He took her hand and drew her toward the door.
"Coming, Tommy?" he asked.
"Yes, sir!"
"Tommy! Son!" the Colonel pleaded. "Please!"
The door clicked shut, and a pall of silence fell over the room. That is, all except a shuddering sob. It came from the Colonel.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sue and Jeff lay in the warm depression of their bed, vaguely aware of a spent passion that had engulfed them the night before. She was aware of a slight soreness at her nipples, and aware, too, of a mild ache between her legs where the muscles of her inner self had expanded and contracted in a wild flurry of sexual manipulations.
Jeff lay on his side next to her, his red and swollen cock hanging from the thatch of hair like a section of garden hose. The tender skin below the glands was reddened from the fury of his passion. It stung slightly.
The Florida sky was bathed in the warmth of the tropical sun. White puffs of cotton clouds stood out on the field of blue, billowy, moving slowly with the urging of a gentle wind.
The tepid waves of a restless sea set a beat, the ceaseless surf crashing with a running thud, then hissing itself back into the depths.
Jeff stirred. His eyes flickered open. He looked at Sue's face and a warm feeling came over him. He eased back the sheet and admired the beauty of her nakedness, the full, rich swelling globes of her titties and the reddened nipples so lusciously protruding from them. They had a remarkable appearance, full and inviting.
She was a gorgeous woman, he realized. Impulsively, he put his arm around her and pulled her to him. He caught her face to his and kissed her eyelids, then her nose.
"You're beautiful," he murmured lovingly.
"You're disturbing my sleep," she said. "But I love it."
Her soft, long thighs rested against his legs and he felt her lower body give a slight nudge to him.
Her lips parted slightly and lifted up to him. He lowered his head and met her lips with his own. Her fingertips rested on the back of his neck and then traced gentle lines over the back of his head.
Suddenly, taking him by surprise, her tongue became a liquid rapier that plunged and darted into his mouth. She was no longer still and controlled, instead, she moved her body so that her nakedness was a writhing mass of movement against his own. She pulled her mouth away and he heard her moan quietly. It thrilled him to know that she enjoyed making love, regardless of the time or the place. God, how he had longed for just such a woman!
There was much he wanted to do to the warm, pink body. She lay beside him and he saw the rapid rise of her breasts and her increased breathing and her lower body undulating slowly against his, quivering slightly.
She pulled a hand free and put it under one breast. She raised it to him. "Kiss it, darling."
He caught the shuddering, golden nakedness of her tit, and with his mouth slowly sampled the underside. Then he slid his hand upward to the rich full heaviness and squeezed the nipple gently. He tugged at it slightly and was rewarded with a sharp withdrawn gasp.
"Darling ... please," she whispered hoarsely. "I want you to put your lips on it ... suck it." Her hand moved to her tit and she pushed the soft mound toward him by encircling it with her clenching hand, pushed the jutting ruby nipple toward him, toward his waiting lips.
He put his mouth on it, engulfing it completely, and felt her tremble beneath the rapid movements of his tongue. Her hands fluttered over him, coursing over his skin, grabbing, petting. She gripped his shoulders, pushed him away and looked at him. The look of love was in her eyes.
"Oh, I'm so happy," she gushed. Then she snatched him back to her.
His mouth was immediately on one of her nipples, sucking and licking, his tongue never leaving the infernos at the tips of her breasts. Then she felt him coursing over her body, his tongue swabbing, tasting. She felt the coolness where his saliva moistened the flesh, felt the tingle of his tongue as it flicked and licked over her belly, between her legs, down her legs.
The room spun crazily as she entered into the clutches of wild passion once more. She wondered how he could be in so many different places at one time. His hungry lips were snatching at the tender skin of her inner thighs one minute, on her tits the next. It seemed like a dozen pairs of hands were moving over her, toying with her nipples, going into her pussy. She searched the bed with one hand, trying to grasp him. She felt the warm skin of his belly and slid lower until she felt the tuft of hair at the base of his cock. She groped for the hard cock she knew was there.
With a quick, turning adjustment of his body, Jeff moved between her legs. He put both hands on her pussy and stroked the bristle gently. "You have such a lovely little muff," he murmured. He bent and kissed the hair. Then his tongue went back to work on other parts of her body.
His long, hard prick curved forward from his dangling balls. As he swabbed his tongue over her delightful skin, it bounced up and down like a huge lever. It was an impressive cock, a hard hose of flesh with a swollen nozzle of purplish-red at the end.
Jeff was back at her pussy. He ran his fingers into the slippery opening, pushing them deep into her. Then he put his other hand beside the first and eased more fingers into her straining chapel of love. He held them still for a moment to accustom her to the feel, then wriggled them and moved them about in the soft membranes. Then he pulled one hand out and slipped it down the crevice between the cheeks of her ass.
"Ooh, that tickles," she said.
But she raised her ass so he could search the ravine for the tightened bud of her anus. Slippery with the juice from her pussy, he eased one finger into the tight hole. Now he manipulated both hands, one in her asshole and one in her pussy. He ran his finger deep into her anus, another as far as it would go into her cunt. Somewhere inside of her she felt the pressure as both fingers met at the same place.
Sue's legs were working like slow-moving pistons, as though she were walking in a horizontal position. Her chest was heaving up and down more rapidly now as this strange new technique of love-making was arousing her to a longing she had never felt before. It seemed like every time they made love she experienced something new and exciting.
Jeff's tongue was like splashing rain on her, moving rapidly over her soft skin, dabbing, nipping, licking and swabbing. His lips worked like suction pumps as he took bits of flesh between them in rapid little nips that trailed from one end of her body to the other. Now he was coursing down her stomach, across her belly. He brushed across the hair mound over her pussy. He turned her slightly so he could kiss the roundness of her hips, then continued downward until he was at her knee. He licked at her trembling kneecap, then put his mouth over it.
He raised her leg, went under it to the back side of her knee. He touched the tender flesh with the tip of his tongue and felt her jerk with the tickling, then slid his lips along her leg until he was at her instep. He was on his hands and knees, bending over her warm body, swaying his head this way and that as he sought out new spots to kiss and lick. He took her foot in one hand and hugged it to the side of his face. He moved it around so he could kiss the sole. Then his tongue went between her toes, tasting and driving the tip between them until she curled them up to ease the tickling sensation. He slipped his lips over the big toe and sucked on it.
"Oh, Jeff ... Jeff ... you're driving me crazy ... Ohh, my ... "
He swiped his tongue across the five little rises of her upper toes, then went below to the wrinkled crevices. He took his mouth away and pressed the wet foot against his face, inhaling the sweet aroma of her. Then he opened his mouth and bit her heel.
Sue squirmed and writhed with each new sensation. She was in a heaven of her own. She had never realized that her body held so much pleasure, nor did she realize that a man could bring it all to her.
When Jeff had satisfied himself with her toes and feet, he began to move upward again, this time on the opposite leg. He again went to the inside of her thigh, moving upward until the hirsute growth in her crotch tickled against the side of his face.
A sweet, delicate aroma arose from her. The residue of previous sex clung to her, too, and he was thrilled at the raw, animal nature of the odor. He touched the lips of her pussy with his own.
He adjusted his body so that his face lay directly in front of her snatch. He moved his hands around and placed them on the slightly reddened lips, then, with an outward motion, he pried the flesh apart to expose the mysterious hues of her inner self. There seemed to be an array of glistening colors, deep reds, purple, pink, and at the edge, the deep brown where the rims of the cup were studded with hair. He gazed into the fascinating hole with deep interest.
"My beautiful pussy," he murmured. He opened the crack wider. A single bead of dew made a cautious trip through the hills and valleys of enlivened flesh. He put his tongue on it and got the impression he had tasted a sweet, unnamed nectar. He coiled his tongue into a tube and went in search of another pearl. His lips pressed against hers. His nose burrowed in the thicket of slightly matted hair and he sniffed into the pubic forest as his tongue traded secretions with her quivering pussy.
Sue reached out with both hands and placed them on his head. "My dear, sweet darling," she cooed ecstatically. "You do love me, don't you?"
"Ummmmhmmmm."
The aroma of her body was an elixir to him. He inhaled deeply and long. He touched his nose to the open red hole to smear a bit of her sweet honey onto it, then moved away as the scent clung to it like a dash of cologne.
She jerked her hips upward in an urgent surge to bury his tongue in her.
He tasted the interior of the hot chapel in a gentle probing of his tongue, flicking lightly at first, then driving it into her in one hungry lunge. He lashed at the interior membranes, inflaming them, then flattened his tongue into a broad swab and swept over the entire aperture from top to bottom with long, loving strokes, like a child licking eagerly at an ice cream cone. He tickled one lip with a quick flicking movement, going from the bottom to the top, then coursed down the other lip in the same manner. He moved away and drew a breath.
"Oh, darling, I love when you do that to me," she sighed. "Is it good for you, too?"
"Yes, very much," he replied.
"I didn't know what I was missing all these years."
"Your beautiful body is made to be loved, sweetheart."
"Oh, Jeff ... You've made me come alive. You've made a woman out of me. I feel so ... so wonderful ... "
He dropped his mouth to the wet cavern once again, this time stabbing immediately at the hard knob of her clitoris. It brought a quick reaction from her. She lunged upward violently and pulled his face into her wet crotch. Her legs began to thrash about and her heels dug into the sheets. She put her hands on each side of his head and virtually fucked his face. The muff of her pussy became wet and sloppy as the saliva drooled out of his mouth. She rocked back and forth as the lightning began to streak through her. She was grunting and moaning. Hissing. Her fingers coiled around his ears and yanked him forward as the first explosion went off inside her.
"Ohhh ... Jef-ffff ... Ohhhh ... "
She was on a plateau of agonized ecstasy.
"Oohhhh ... " she moaned.
A muffled grunt came from between her legs.
Skyrockets whirled crazily in her head. The world tilted. A death-throe groan escaped from her. Her body arched like a bridge span, her legs stiff and quivering as she tried to hold the arc. But the bridge of rigid flesh gave way and she collapsed onto the bed as the torment of ecstasy sped away into the past, now only a memory.
Jeff, his tongue sore and his face wet, lay on the trembling altar and breathed heavily. His hard cock throbbed hotly against his belly as he lay and waited for the time when he would send it on its ecstatic journey into her hot, wet cunt.
Outside, the sky had not changed. It was still a clear blue. New clouds had taken the place of the departed ones. The restless surf washed the golden beach, as it always had. Swimmers dunked their bodies in natatorial rites. Birds swooped and glided on the passing breezes. Nothing had changed.
Inside, everything had changed. Sue and Jeff found that they were human beings after all.
