Vanessa responded to the new note in Helen's voice. "Honey, I said the other night you had guts. I just didn't know how much! Would you honestly let Barry see you in those in the middle of the day?"
Helen unfastened the apron and drew it aside with a delicious thrill of wickedness at Vanessa's gasp.
"Oh, God!" Vanessa groaned. "They're hotter than I thought. They don't hide anything! You wouldn't!"
"Yes I would." Helen's stomach fluttered. Vanessa wasn't going to permit that, but the mere challenge was frightening.
Vanessa let her breath out slowly. "Oh, my! Honey, come on. I don't care if he does miss those calls. A guy doesn't get a chance to see that kind of underwear on a body like yours that often. He'd never forgive me if I cheated him out of it!"
"Oh, no! You don't really want me to!"
"No! Hell no! But Barry would! Come on!"
"But I haven't got lunch yet!"
"We can come back and fix it. Come on."
Vanessa grabbed Helen's hand and tugged. Helen hung back, and she thought for a moment Vanessa would give up. Then she felt her strength fade and the eager blonde dragged her from the room.
"Barry? Hey, Barry!" called Vanessa.
Helen freed herself by a desperate wrench. "I'll go! For God's sake, don't drag me!"
Barry and Art looked up as the two women entered the living room. Helen flushed under Barry's startled stare.
He whistled. "Jesus, Helen! What's with her, Art?"
Art shrugged. "Look for yourself. She sure as hell can't be hiding much."
"Yeah, man!" Barry leered at Helen. "Come closer, my child," he said with a croak.
Although his voice implied humor, Helen saw something else in his face. The sudden hunger she saw drew her like a magnet, and she glided to him. He extended his arm to lay his hand on her hip, the contact shocking her like an electric probe. He placed his other hand on her waist and drew her to him. She emerged from her trance-like state long enough to throw a mute appeal at her husband, then let herself sink onto Barry's lap. He turned her as she lowered herself, and she leaned back against him, her head next to his cheek.
"Goddamn it, baby!" he said. "You'd make a guy lose his head with a show like that!" His fingertips brushed her nipples. "I don't see how I'm going to be in any shape to work this afternoon. When did you start wearing this kind of stuff around the house?"
"You talk a lot," she murmured, her flesh quivering at the continued fondling of her tits.
"I guess." He laughed and began to rub her bare belly. "But you've been so damn modest all the time we've known you, I thought you were a prude. And then night before last and today… Shit! Is it a wonder I talk?"
She moaned softly and squired. "I don't know. Art didn't."
Barry winced and squeezed her tit. "Art's a man of action, pet. Or else he's got a one-track mind. I don't know which. Me, I like the way conversation lubricates a situation."
It isn't talk that's getting me lubricated! thought Helen. God, my cunt's wet!
Barry felt the protruding strands of her pussy hair and the taut netting of her panties. "Tell Van where these came from, baby. She's got to have some."
"They came from Art, and I told her."
"Like hell! I mean, where he got them! She'd better not get any from him!"
"Barry! You sound jealous!"
"I don't care what you call it. She's had hot pants for that guy of yours as long as I did for you! If she wants him to lay her once in a while, that's fine with me. But I'll be damned if he's going to buy these things for her!" He slid his hand between her thighs.
Helen clamped her legs together and Barry used both hands to pry them apart. He grabbed her twat and his finger slipped through the panty opening. He gasped.
"Christ! What next! A cock-gate!"
Barry maneuvered her on his lap until he could unzip his pants and let his cock surge through his fly.
"Oh, dear!" she whispered. "Oh, dear!" She tightened her butt-cheeks and thrust her legs out, raising her pussy for him.
He parted her cuntlips and dragged his fingers over the mouth of her snatch. Her hips twisted.
"Barry, darling," she whispered. "Put your cock in, please! I want him so!"
"Shit, Helen! I've got to work this afternoon!"
"With a hard-on?"
He laughed. "You win. And that's how it would be. Probably will anyhow, every time I think of you in these fuck-pants!" He grasped her by the waist and raised her, lowering her onto his cock.
She bent forward to rest her hands on his thighs, settling onto the hard prick. A gust of contentment swept her as she felt her cunt being filled. "Ahhh! Barry, Barry!"
He slid his hands onto her hips, grasping the smooth bulges firmly and bouncing her. The edge of the couch pressed her calves and her boobs leaped in their half-cup supports. She clenched her teeth and groaned shakily.
'I'm going to come pretty fast this way, baby," Barry told her. "Seeing that little strip of hot net across an ass like yours is enough to light a short fuse!"
"I don't care!" she panted. "I'll love every second of it!" She was surprised at having discovered she wasn't up-tight about reaching an orgasm. Because I've had so many the last three days, she thought. I wouldn't fight it, but I can wait till next time.
Barry's hips jerked upward, his balls mounding against the sober gray of his trousers, and Helen felt herself driven higher, the base of his cock hard against her pussy. She shook while Barry pumped his jism into her twat and continued to twitch after he had squeezed out the last of his cum and fallen back. When there was no stiffness left in the cock that impaled her holes she pushed herself off. She faced Barry, bending over him and kissing him on the mouth. Then she straightened.
"Thank you, darling," she said. "It feels so good to have you screw me."
He sighed. "You're a good lay, Helen. I wish we'd started swapping sooner."
She tensed. "Swapping! Barry, only nasty-minded sex fiends swap! We're not doing that!"
"Whatever, I still wish we'd started sooner."
"Okay. So do I." She wrinkled her nose at him. "We didn't, though. That means we've got to catch up."
"Oh, shit!" he groaned. "One crack like that and I'm in just as bad a shape as I was before you made me screw you! Helen, you're not even the same broad I used to know!"
"No." She dropped her glance to her toes. "No, I'm not, Barry. But that's a long story."
"Tell you what," he said. "I'm going' to remember that. One of these nights we'll make it as far as a bed. And when we're screwed out, we can lie there next to each other while you tell me the whole thing. Time you finish, we'll be rested enough to make it again."
"Oh, you!" she laughed, feeling herself flush. "Van? Do we have time to get lunch?"
Vanessa, cuddled on Art's lap, her lips at his ear, stirred and looked around. "Hmm? Lunch? Not now. Barry's appointment is in a half-hour." She glanced at her husband. "For heaven's sake, Barry! Get your peter in!" And then, "Oh, no! You've got to go home and change! You've got pussy tracks all over you!"
Helen's face burned and she avoided Vanessa's eyes. Barry grumbled and tucked his cock inside his trousers.
"It isn't all that goddamn bad, woman," he growled.
"It's bad enough you've got to change your pants!"
"Okay, okay. I didn't say I wasn't going to. Only we'll have to get a move on. You ready to wind up whatever you've got going with Art?"
"And what would that be?" Vanessa bristled.
"How the hell would I know? Maybe you're trying to work him for a pair of those fuck-pants!"
"Barry Rush!" His wife blazed at him. "You go ahead. I'll get Art and Helen to bring me home."
"Suit yourself." Barry heaved himself to his feet and zipped his fly. He paused on his way to the door to kiss Helen, then he was gone.
Vanessa gazed at the closed door. "My God," she muttered. "How touchy can a guy get!" "Maybe he was hungry," suggested Art.