"I'm so sorry…" she apologized. Tim was looking at her with frank curiosity, and she blushed as she saw that his mind had obviously left the subject of the martinis some time ago.
"My wife is very happy that you are here," he said, still looking at her steadily.
Arlene felt a rush of anger. If only he knew! She ached inside so, she wanted to tell him so very badly it was difficult for her to contain herself. If she were Tim's wife she knew that she would never so much as look at another man!
"I'm glad to be here… she answered. "I really… like being here.
Helping out!"
"Yes," Tim replied, "one thing I'll say for us Cassidy's, we need a lot of help. We also get the best, always!"
Arlene was not sure whether or not that was intended as a compliment for her. She decided that she would just smile. She couldn't help thinking that one day Tim Cassidy was going to be Senator, and then, more than likely, he would be President of the United States. The thought was staggering. Nevertheless, the martini was giving her a pleasant glow that made her feel more comfortable, and much more confident than before. After all, she had every right to be there chatting with him. She was now an integral part of his household, and she reminded herself, she must do for him what his uncaring wife neglected to do!
She thought resentfully of Sylvie upstairs in bed, not even knowing that her husband had come home, probably thinking over her excitement of that evening with young Erick Cassidy! With a start Arlene noticed that Tim's glass was empty.
"I'll make this one with Beefeaters," she declared, taking it from him.
Tim did not protest, but this time she was sure he was watching her.
She turned around to see, and his eyes met hers in a knowing exchange.
"Making yourself one, too?" he inquired. Tim recognized the coquetry behind his wife's cousin's actions now. It reminded him of something and he was trying to think of what.
"I guess so…" Arlene replied, feeling a little spark of desire germinating in her belly. His eyes… so blue… so full of… she knew not what. She only knew that Tim Cassidy was the most exciting man she had ever been in the same room with.
"Better be careful," Tim cautioned in a joking manner, "alcohol does strange things to little girls!"
Arlene flushed angrily. Turning, she said, levelly, "I am not a little girl, Tim… you should be able to see that much. And you'd better watch out or Women's Lib is going to get you!"
"Oh, yes, Women's Lib…" Tim said. "Are you one of those?" he asked.
"You must fill me in… most of the advisors are males as you know, and I can't afford to make a fatal slip. I presume that you've forgiven me by now for calling you a little girl?"
Arlene handed him his new drink and he sipped from it reflectively, watching Arlene as she sat down again across from him.
"Of course," Arlene replied. She would forgive him anything, she thought impetuously. "And, I'll be glad to tell you everything that I know."
"Tell me about you, then!" Tim said. He knew now what she reminded him of… his own wife, Sylvie the night before. "Christ," he thought,
"Women's Lib or not, when a woman wants fucking you can tell it a mile away!"
As Arlene began to talk, at first hesitantly, then easily, Tim mulled over in his mind whether or not he ought to. He needed some sleep, but then again he needed a little fun, too. Sylvie would be sound asleep by now anyway, and he had a feeling that Arlene was just hot-blooded enough to blot out the ugliness of old Grady's deal in his mind for that night at least. Tomorrow he would feel better about the whole thing, but tonight, he was still the honest dedicated D.A. Just one time wouldn't hurt anything he finally decided, watching Arlene's full, red lips as she spoke. Maybe twice, and that would be the end of it.
"Why don't we go out on the terrace," he said, his mind made up. "Bring your drink, we'll look at the stars." Tim knew that they were in little danger of being surprised or even overheard out on the enclosed terrace. The glass doors would be closed over the screens for the night, and up above through the clear skylight they would be able to see the stars the sky had to offer.
Already Tim's cock was thickening as he walked along beside the well proportioned girl who was his wife's cousin. Casually, he slipped his arm around her waist. There was little need for words, he felt. He knew what she was doing there, and he would make sure she got what she wanted.
"I can tell you're no little girl," he whispered to her as they stepped onto the terrace.
Arlene felt his breath hot near her ear, and throughout her martini soaked system, she felt a rush of emotion that seemed to block out all thought. She could see him closing the door to the house, and she stood uncertainly looking around her at the sparse furnishings of the terrace. Tim was back then, and he led her to an old deck sofa, that was wicker on the bottom and some sort of cool waterproof fabric on top. She suddenly felt confused and embarrassed and somehow everything was very difficult. She realized what was happening, and that in truth, it was she herself that had maneuvered it. Tim sat next to her, his piercing eyes looking at her with rapt attention. She felt a great tension between them, and she wanted to hurriedly back out of it… to tell him that it was all a dreadful mistake. But it wasn't. A strange magnetic current was drawing her to this man who had married her own young cousin. Why she and Sylvie had been brought up like sisters, and now here she was with Sylvie's husband! No matter what Sylvie herself did, that was no excuse… Arlene thought with rising panic. But when Tim leaned over to kiss her, she found that she did not resist, but welcomed his hard warm lips against hers. Her body suddenly let her know that it was sex-starved, and it responded to him immediately. He held her gently in his arms and she felt limp and submissive, sensing that no matter what he wanted, she would agree.
Tim kissed her steadily and passionately for a long time, stopping only every now and then to catch his breath, and then his tongue would be back in Arlene's mouth, reaching back toward her throat, pushing in an imitation of intercourse, his tongue a giant penis, her mouth a yearning wet cunt. At first, he restricted his advances to the long sensual kissing, but then meeting no resistance, he began to explore her body slowly, carefully. Her emerald hostess gown was parted down the front, and her bare breasts beneath were exposed to the dark terrace air. He ran his tongue down between them, deep into the slit that was cushioned by the swelling globes of her pale flesh. Arlene felt herself melting, her body aflame with desire, her mind reaching out toward him. What she was feeling was more than an ordinary desire, it was magic… it was special.
"Take the rest off!" he growled, his voice husky with lust. The words pierced Arlene like an arrow, releasing her completely from any thoughts of protest. Willingly, she stood and the material of her gown fell slowly to the ground. She stepped, completely naked from it, her body gleaming in the dark; for one brief moment she knew he was looking at her assessing her nakedness, and then he clasped her waist pulling her around so that her round firm buttocks were pulling against his loins. He was silent for a moment, and then he sat back down on the couch, pulling her along with him. She sat on his lap, facing the glass door that led down to the gardens. His hands slipped around to feel her nakedly quivering nipples and beneath her buttocks she felt the thrusting throb of his hard cock beneath his pants. The texture of his clothing, his shirt and his pants impressed itself upon her naked body and Arlene found herself wishing that she could feel him naked against her. But his hands continued to create the thrilling shivers up and down from her breasts to her belly, and then he was fumbling with one of them down between her buttocks. She felt a slight shock as the metal of his zipper touched her skin for a second, and then the hot rubbery head of his cock was pressing between the moon circle of her buttocks.