She reveled in his manipulations, the tender, pink flesh tingling lightly while she rocked her ass up toward him. With a little difficulty, she opened her eyes.
"Shall we do it again when we've rested??
“I'd like to, but I have to start early at the mill again today. How about a rematch tomorrow?" She smiled up at him and said, "You're on." A half-hour later at the inn, Linda leaned over in the jeep and kissed Dave and got out beside her Toyota. She looked at the few other cars parked there as she left. There was a dark-blue sedan that she'd seen when they'd left after lunch. It had been there a long time.
Driving back to Centralia, she kept a close watch in the rear-view mirror. On long straight stretches she saw a dark blue car following her, staying a half mile back. When she drove faster, it went faster too. When she slowed down, it dropped back as well. It was with great apprehension that she watched the car follow her all the way into town.
When she stopped in her space at the apartment, the dark-blue car parked in an unassigned space a short distance away. The driver just sat in the car. With a clutching fear in her gut, she walked toward the car and stopped by the driver's door. The window rolled down.
"Excuse me," she said, "but you were following me."
The curly haired driver said, "That's what I'm supposed to do, Mrs. Cuyler."
"How… how did you know my name?"
The man handed her a business card that read, "Max Brandt, private detective."
"You might want to get in the car, Mrs. Cuyler," he said. "We can talk privately."
Numbly, she walked to the passenger door and got in. "Now what's this all about? Why are you following me?"
"Your husband paid me to follow you."
He knows, she thought as a shudder went through her body.
"If it makes you feel any better, your husband doesn't know anything about your playin' around… not yet."
"Not yet?"
"That's right. He doesn't have to know."
"What do you mean?"
"Take a look at these," he said, proffering the two cloth-bound notebooks.
She opened one. It was a detailed chronicle of his surveillance of one Mrs. Linda Cuyler. It detailed her drive to Mill Creek Inn, her embrace with David Baker, her lunch and wine with him, her departure with him in the jeep. It described the surveillance of Dave and her through a cabin window, detailing the positions she and Dave had assumed. It described their ride back to the restaurant and her drive back to Centralia.
"Now look at the other book," he said.
The other book was in the same handwriting and it listed the same departure and arrival times from and to her home. Between those two entries, however, was a completely different chronicle of events. It showed her going to the shopping center and returning to her car with packages, going to work at the church bake sale, visiting with the next door neighbor.
"I don't get it," she said.
"It's very simple;" he said. "Every day I give a report to Mr. Cuyler, listing your activities. That report can either be based on notebook A and give an account of your fucking Dave Baker, or it can be based on notebook B and say you went shopping and to church bake sales. It's up to you."
"Up to me how?"
"If you're real nice to me in bed, I'll use notebook B. You can go on fucking Dave and Mr. Cuyler will never be the wiser."
"You bastard! That's blackmail!"
"I call it starin' out of trouble. Shall we start now in your bedroom?"
"All right," she said. "Let's go."
Walking beside her toward the apartment entrance, Max looked as tall as Dave and just as lean, but he didn't move with the easy grace of a man that has done hard work all his life. He looked younger than Dave, closer to Joe's twenty-eight.
Once inside, Max sauntered directly to the bedroom as though he knew the layout. With some trepidation, Linda followed him to the room. He immediately unzipped his coat and shrugged out of it.
"We can do it better if you get ready first."
"What… "
"Your clothes. We’ll be able to fuck better if you take off your clothes, Mrs. Cuyler."
Numbly, she took off her long coat and dropped it. She reached behind her and pulled the zipper down on her dress. It slipped down off her arms and over her hips and she stepped out of it. She grasped the hem of her slip and pulled it up over her head, casting it aside. By the time she'd slipped out of her bra, Max was naked, standing with his cock hard and pointing up a little.
He looked at her tits and said, "Now that's what I call really built. I'll take care of the rest."
He slipped his two hands down over her hips, into the waistband of her panties. With one motion he peeled the flimsy garment down to her knees and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of the cloth, now naked except for her nylon stockings and the little garter belt that didn't cover anything.
"We can leave the rest of it on," he said. "It won't get in the way."
He grinned as he grabbed her tits and pulled them straight out and then let the flesh slip through his hands, bouncing back. He pulled them out rudely a half-dozen times, watching the firm flesh bounce back.
"Nice tits," he said. "Now, let's see about the rest of you."
He backed her up until the bed was against her legs. When he pushed her, she sat down. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down on her back. Grabbing her legs, he folded them up and spread them straight out to the side.
He took her cunt-lips in his hands. Forcing a finger from each hand inside, he stretched her cunt out while running his fingers the length of the slit. She tried to be passive but couldn't keep her hips from bouncing when he touched her tender flesh.
"You like that, don't you?" he said. "My, but you've got a nice little cunt. It's nice, but I think we'll do something different this time. "
He pulled her legs back together and rolled her over on her stomach. Sliding a hand under her waist, he drew her up on her knees. His own knees pushed between hers, spreading her out. His hands slipped up the insides of her thighs and spread her ass-cheeks.
She gasped as a finger probed into her asshole. It burned hot as it thrust inside, then the burning pain slowly faded while he left the finger immobile. She couldn't suppress a moan when he twisted the finger and then pulled it back.
"Now don't go away," he said as he got up and went to the bathroom, leaving her on her hands and knees.
He came back with a small jar of Vaseline. She watched with dread as he smeared the petroleum jelly on the head of his hard cock and then back on the cock-shaft itself.
"I'm gonna fuck you in the ass," he said, "but I won't make it hurt you any more than it has to."
He put the jar on the night stand and crawled back on the bed behind her, wiping his fingers on her hips. She tried to hold her asscheeks closed tight, but his hands were too strong. He spread them wide apart. His cock-head was hot and it probed at her ass.
Now in position, he put one arm around her waist while he squeezed one tit. His cock-head pushed hard against her asshole but he didn't thrust in.
"Just relax and let it ease its way in and it won't hurt much."
She didn't say anything-just felt the hot cock head pushing against her quivering asshole.
Gradually, his cock-head pushed in as she felt her asshole loosen against the relentless force. With the cock-head inside, she felt the burning thrust go full length into her as his hips came up hard against her asscheeks.
It was a relief to feel his cock slide back out, almost like taking a shit. He stopped withdrawing with the head just inside her asshole and thrust back inside her, causing a burning pain deep within her.
As he ass-fucked her, the burning pain began to feel good. It turned into a good ache like that in her cunt when Dave had fucked her.
He reached his arm back under her and put a finger in her cunt. The finger probed deep, making a tingling ache, then it slowly probed forward, just inside her cunt-lips, moving forward toward her clit.