Terry and Lindy didn't have much time to talk during the affair, but they planned – promised – to meet before Lindy flew to Vegas with her act. They shook on it – and Terry felt his cock twitching in his shorts when their hands touched and their eyes met.
Gerry dropped Lindy at her apartment. He'd borrowed a friend's car for the evening, and had to get it back. She wanted him to stay – she felt hot, excited, sexy. The booze and the glory of the party had taken their effect, but she wanted to make love. On the drive home she had reached over to play with Gerry's cock, but he swerved, just missing another car, so she had stopped. A feel wasn't worth getting cracked up in an auto wreck.
Lindy locked her door and sat down on her bed. She loved everything about it – she knew it now, really knew it. She had been the center of attention, the person the party was for, the person the fans scream for, the star! Now she knew was all about, what her mother had been about. There was nothing else like it, and the taste of it – even the small party this night – was a good one. It encouraged her to reach for more.
She didn't know what to do. She turned on the TV, but found only talk shows and a movie she'd seen twelve times and had hated eleven of them. She tried the stereo, but found the music boring. She'd never felt this excited before. She couldn't stop thinking of Vegas, the crowds, her name in front of the hotel in bright shining light. She thought of Terry Peerce – she didn't know what it was about him, but she was turned onto him.
She sat and looked out on the street, watching the lights of the cars flashing through the night. She felt cold, but inside she was hot. She took off her clothes and put on her long robe. She looked out the window again, rubbing her hands over her breasts. Why didn't Gerry come up? She knew it wasn't a matter of getting that car back. He could have come up for a quick fuck, as he'd done before. He'd been pissed off because everyone ignored him at the party, but after all, he had come as her escort. Shit.
She finally opened the dresser drawer and took out a Librium. Maybe it would have a calming effect. She had rehearsal tomorrow and she had to get some sleep. Maybe she should masturbate – but that was such a bore! Shit.
There was a knock at the door. Lindy jumped up, her eyes flashing, and called out, "Gerry?"
"Ron," the voice said.
Ron? What the hell was Ron doing there at three in the Goddamn morning?
She opened the door. Ron winked at her and walked into the room, a bit smashed. He sat on the couch and loosened his tie. "I hoped you'd be alone."
Lindy closed the door. She wondered if anything had happened, if something were wrong. "Where… where's Julie?"
Ron laughed. "She found some cunt at the party she wanted."
Lindy honestly wanted to believe she had heard him wrong. "What? You must be kidding…"
Ron pulled his tie off and dropped it on the coffee table. "Julie Feldman, my wife, is down in the East Village right now, sucking on a dark-haired girl's pussy. And that's the truth." He laughed again and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Lindy stumbled across the room and fell into a chair. Okay, she'd been around, she knew her mother had even had a woman lover for a time, but this was a shock. If anyone had seemed like the ideal married professional couple, it was Ron and Julie.
"Don't look so stunned. Julie likes girls. And boys too. She fucks anything. And everything." He had his shirt open to his waist and was taking his jacket off.
"I don't understand…"
"Lindy, baby, it's call bisexuality. It's in the dictionary, in case you…"
She cut him off sharply. "Ron, I'm not an idiot. I started saying I don't understand why you came here. Why aren't you home?"
"Because I like girls, too. I like you. And I want to fuck you. How's that for honesty?" He threw his jacket on the floor and opened his sleeves.
Lindy stared at him with wide eyes. Man, here she'd been wandering around the apartment, her pussy practically dripping with desire, and a guy showed up ready to stick it into her. But it was Ron! Why Ron? That made it strange, weird. What would happen to their relationships? She knew she wanted him. Would he tell Julie? She had always found him attractive. Would. Julie try seducing her, now that Lindy knew she was a lesbian? Ron really was a good-looking guy, maybe he'd dig her body and they could have a thing. What if Gerry had a change of heart and showed up? Ron looked good, very good, with his shirt off…
"Look, I'm drunk and you're naked under that robe," Ron said, zipping his pants down, "and I'm getting a super hard-on thinking about what I'm gonna see once you open it. So do it."
Fuck it, Lindy figured. The hell with Gerry, relationships, people, Julie. She pulled the belt and opened her robe. She spread her legs and sat facing him, virtually naked. His eyes opened and he reached inside his pants.
"You're beautiful," Ron mumbled.
"Let me see what you look like," Lindy muttered, feeling her passion rising again as he moved his hand around in his pants. Then he pulled out his huge cock and held it up in front of him. She gasped and stood up, dropping the robe down to the chair.
Ron looked at her – never taking his eyes from her for a second – as he pulled his pants and shoes and socks off. Then he flung his undershorts over his shoulder and stood facing her. "In the bedroom?" he asked.
"Yes," Lindy responded, reaching out to touch his long thick cock. It was as full as Gerry's at the base, but much longer. She shuddered to think how it would feel deep inside her twat.
She led him to the bedroom.
They fell onto the bed, rolling in a passionate embrace for a minute, then lying there to look at each other's body, probing and finding, experimenting with the special new thing each had been desiring.
"You're incredible, Lindy," Ron said as his fingers inched along her thigh. He leaned back on the mattress and looked down at her slim ivory hand as it moved up his abdomen and slid back down to fondle his crotch. His cock was swollen and he was hornier than he had ever been when he had been drunk. If only Terry Peerce could be here, too, he thought.
She never really grabbed his cock. She kept teasing the flesh around it, over his balls, in his pubic hair. He knew, she wanted him desperately, he had seen it in her eyes weeks ago. She was crying out for a father, a father-image, the thing she'd been deprived of her entire life. Oh sure, she'd had more "fathers" than most people on earth, and a few of her mother's lovers had called themselves her father even though they weren't lucky enough actually to marry the famous Susan Travis. What Lindy needed was a man who could play daddy – and fuck her at the same time.
Ron reached out and traced intricate patterns across her breasts. They seemed swollen, as if with milk and he longed to suck on them. He leaned over and buried his face in her jugs with a strangled cry of passion and lusty booze-ridden love. If she needed a father, he looked for daughters and sons. Lindy and Terry. His little girl and little boy. He'd take care of them. But one at a time…
Her two round boobs were covered by his hands as he started to suck on them, licking her nipples with his long, thick, agile tongue.
"It tickles, but nice," she whispered, stretching out on the mattress as he lapped between her breasts. They slid around under his fingers, the nipples hard and firm and hot.
At the same time, Lindy found his cock as if it were her salvation. She grabbed it hard in her hand, gripping the tip tightly, and then moved her face to his chest and sucked on his nipples. She quickly moved her face to his ear and sucked there, blowing into it as she squirmed beneath him. He was being driven crazy with erotic delight.
"We need each other, baby. Fuck Julie, let her have the bitch. Let her eat pussy. I'll eat you any day," Ron muttered, licking against her neck.