"Just thirty lousy minutes!" she almost shouted. "Christ, I'm not asking you to shack up with me for ten years!"
"Okay," Mike said desperately. "Okay, Sally. Usual place after work."
To his relief she got off at the next stop, her huge tits still heaving with emotion. Mike scanned the passengers in his rearview mirror, seeing theft smirks with anger. He was in a vicious mood now. The only reason he'd agreed was to avoid a scene, but now he'd have to screw her, and that meant one less round for hot little Terry.
Unless…
A slow, mean smile spread across his rugged face. Jesus, that would be a dirty trick! Not just dirty, but filthy. Mike had always prided himself on his natural sense of decency, on treating women like ladies – even if they weren't – but the idea was beginning to sound like the perfect solution to the lustful divorcee. It might even get her out of his hair permanently. And she might even love it.
The more he thought about it as the afternoon passed, the wider his vicious grin got out. Blonde, cock-crazy little Terry had crawled under his skin like a disease, and if it came to a showdown, he'd even avoid screwing Linda to save his come for the eighteen-year-old minx.
She was so wild and unpredictable she'd slipped into the shower with him this morning while Linda slept a few yards away and sucked him off with feverish delight.
But was he really crazy enough to run off with his wife's little sister? He drove his bus mechanically, brooding about it as he plowed through the congested lanes, casually missing cars by mere inches, grinning down at horrified drivers.
At sixteen she was so wild she might run off and leave him after a few weeks or a month or two, possibly for some scroungy hippie. She said she was crazy about him, but what she really meant was she was crazy about his prick. And while Mike immodestly admitted he was hung like a bull, there were other studs out there who weren't exactly boy scouts either.
And if he got rid of the divorcee once and for all, and ran off with Terry, and she ended up running off with someone else, what were his chances of having Linda take him back? He'd be stranded out in the cold, his feast of pussy vanished into thin air, having to start all over again.
The whole Goddamned thing was driving him crazy, but he was sure of one thing with devastating certainty. He was hooked on his wife's little sister, on her tender silken flesh and madly sucking cunt, on her eager, frenzied mouth and luscious little ass.
There had to be an answer to all this complicated crap, but if there was it eluded him like a prick-teasing cheerleader.
At five, he turned his bus in. He walked a block and sauntered into a noisy bar. A number of men greeted him, some bus drivers just getting off duty, others hard-hat construction workers, big brawny studs who drank and brawled like gorillas.
Next door to the bar was a cheap hotel, which he and Sally used from time to time, mostly when he knocked off a piece on his lunch hour. She would be up in a room now, naked in bed and waiting for him, her huge creamy tits panting and her wet thighs spread wide.
Mike gulped down a beer with lightning-speed and ordered another, thinking about what he planned to do. He hated dirty tricks, but how else was he going to get the madly-sexed redhead out of his hair? Every man was entitled to be a sonofabitch once in a while, even a nice guy like him.
He told the guy on the next barstool to watch his beer for a couple of minutes. Then he left the bar and entered the hotel. He talked to the desk-clerk for a few seconds and found out which room Sally was in.
She was waiting for him exactly as he pictured, her eyes burning with lust. She reached over and grabbed the massive bulge of his crotch and rubbed it lewdly.
"Let's not bother with a lot of romance," Sally whispered urgently. "Just shove it and fuck me, Mike! Lord, I'm so hot I could burn up!"
"Look here, honey," Mike said solemnly, sitting on the edge of the bed and squeezing one of her hot tits. "I want to ask you a favor, see? A good buddy of mine has got a little problem with his wife. She, uh, stopped putting out to him about a week ago, family argument, you know? And he's so horny he could faint."
He ignored the look of shock on Sally's face and rushed on.
"Now this guy is built like a gorilla, a real stud, see? And he's a real pal of mine, and, well, I thought maybe you could do him this little favor, just for me, just a little fast quickie…"
Sally's voluptuous mouth popped open. Then a look of rag flashed in her eyes.
"Good God, what do you think I am, a whore!" she hissed.
"Not at all, baby," Mike said smoothly. "But if you can pick up men in bars and screw them, I don't see why you can't swing with a good friend of mine. Just this once. I mean, it's not like screwing a stranger, is it? You do him a favor, because this guy is hung like King Kong."
He watched her grasp his logic. She was still panting, but not with anger. The idea was starting to excite her tremendously. After all, she was still deeply frustrated over her three-minute clash last night with a stranger, she was still hotly primed, and after all this was a friend of Mike's.
And the more curious she became about whether he was hung as Mike said, the more aroused she got. It was sort of a game, she thought, like spin-the-bottle. And as long as he was a good friend of Mike's…
She nodded eagerly. "Okay," she whispered. "Just this once, for you. Axe you gonna be here?"
Mike shook his head gravely. "I might get jealous," he said with a straight face. "I'll be downstairs having a beer."
Mike stood up. "I'll send him up, okay?"
The divorcee licked her lips and nodded. "Tell him to hurry," she said hoarsely, her pussy beginning to trickle profusely with her juices. "And then you'll come back, fight?"
"Yeah, sure," Mike told her.
Going down the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief now all he had to do was find someone who thought he was hung like King Kong.
In the bar, he took a long swig of beer and turned to the rugged construction worker on the next barstool.
"Hey, Al, how about doing me a big favor?" he said.
The brawny hardhat clapped him on the shoulder, half-drunk. "You can have anything in the world, buddy, except my wife. She's got the rag on and she's meaner than a hungry rattlesnake."
"Funny you mention that," Mike said, nodding. "See, Al, I got this sexy broad upstairs in the hotel next door and she's hotter than a firecracker about to go off. Now my wife is home waiting for me and if I'm late she'll spill the soup on me, burn the roast beef and kick me in the balls when I'm not looking. So I thought maybe a good pal like you might just run up there and be my relief man for a little while."
Al's eyes beamed. "She's sexy, huh? Big knockers?"
"Like watermelons," Mike assured him. "Room three-oh-six. She's waiting for you, Al. Just tell her you're a friend of mine. And one other thing," he rushed on as Al jammed two open beer bottles in his rear pockets and turned to go. "When you're through, tell her you've got a buddy who's in a worse fix than you are, and ask her if she'll do you a favor and take care of him. She will. Then come on back down here and pick out someone who's big, mean and horny. Then tell him to do the same thing when he's finished. Okay?"
Al looked at him with drunken admiration.
"You're a real motherfucker, Mike," he said, shaking his head. "I gotta hand it to you, you sure know how to treat a lady. Someday I'll let you bang my wife, if you think you can handle two hundred pounds of ornery cunt."
"I'll pass," Mike said, reaching for the beer Al had bought him. When the hardhat was gone, he finished the beer quickly and left the bar.
Actually, he was doing Sally a favor. She'd always complained she could never get enough cock to really satisfy her.
After Al and his buddies got though with her, she wouldn't have anything to complain about.