CHAPTER FIVE
Three days later, Bonnie thought she was actually going to go crazy. For three days now, Norman had left for work in the morning, come home briefly in the evening, and then gone directly back to work. He neither kissed her nor hugged her with any feeling whatsoever, and every time she approached him on the matter, he snapped at her, touchier each time, than the last about his sexual disinterest in her.
And, during the same three-day period, Bonnie had cried, tried to act as if his indifference wasn't bothering her, and then gone over to spend every evening tangled naked and panting in Val's arms.
It was a little after two in the afternoon, and Bonnie sat on the couch alone and stared blankly at the television. There was some kind of game show on, but she paid no attention to it, her mind instead occupied with worrisome thoughts concerning herself and Val. That Bonnie might become a full-fledged lesbian – as Val so obviously had – terrified her, and she knew that if she didn't get her bare thighs around a man soon, Val would eventually convert her to one of her own.
Even now, sitting alone in the house, Bonnie was tempted to call the slender blonde girl on the phone and have her come over for an afternoon of groaning and sweaty squirming. If even Gary, the paperboy, would show up she'd be satisfied. But he delivered his papers in the morning, and so Norman was always home when he came by. And since he only collected for the paper every two weeks, it would be some time before Bonnie could get her hands on his stiff little cock again.
She thought of Jerry Hershall, the milkman, but even he seemed to be out of the picture for the moment. A replacement was handling his milk route – Jerry apparently taking off for vacation the day after he'd raped Bonnie – and she wasn't about to let the entire milk company know she was fair game. It surprised her that she was now willing to let a man who'd raped her have another go at her cunt, if he'd been around, but she was that anxious for a sexual encounter with a man any man.
Realizing what she had to do, she finally rose from the couch and went into her bedroom to get dressed.
Bonnie Evans sat in a booth in the Happy Limes Bar, slowly sipping through two straws at her rum and Coke. It was a quiet bar, dimly lit, and the afternoon crowd was unusually light. As Bonnie sat sipping her drink, she kept an eye out for the kind of man she needed to take her off somewhere and screw her silly, her head nodding up and her eyes widening almost imperceptibly any time someone came through the door.
She wore a pale silky dress, sporty and dressy-looking at the same time, and high, open toe platform shoes that made the tendons in the backs of her calves round tautly when she walked. So far, she'd seen no one that looked particularly interesting to her sexually.
And then a male voice asked: "Well, Bonnie, what a surprise to find you here!"
She turned with a start to find George Grayson standing by the booth and smiling from ear to ear at her. He was tall and rangy-looking, his brown hair unkempt at times and always seeming to need at least a trim, but everything considered, he was just what she would've ordered if she'd had the chance. Unfortunately she knew since they were neighbors that he was married and – at least from all appearances – devoted to his cute little wife.
"Can I sit down?" he asked, sliding in beside her when she nodded pleasantly. "What have you been up to? What are you doing in here, anyway?"
"What does it look like?" she laughed good-naturedly. "I'm having a drink. How about yourself, what are you doing in here?"
"The same," he laughed, signaling the waitress to bring him a beer. "Ever since I was laid off, I've been kind of wandering around without much to do. And Jill – I'm sure you know my wife, Jill – she's been so busy lately with her clubs and charity work and all that crap that we hardly ever see each other any more."
"I know the feeling," Bonnie said with a trace of rancor. She changed the subject, not really in the mood to discuss her problem with Norman. "I'm not used to drinking all that much. This rum and Coke is running right through me. Will you still be here when I get back from the powder room?"
"I won't move a muscle," George promised, "Take your time."
Alone in the restroom, Bonnie quickly pulled her pantyhose and panties off and stuffed them in her purse. It seemed to her that with George's wife neglecting him the way she was, he would probably be receptive to what she had in mind. Touching her warm cunt with a fingertip, she was pleased to find it was dripping wet and already throbbing with anticipation. She went back out to the booth she shared with her ruggedly handsome neighbor.
When she slid back in beside him she moved right up next to him, her leg pressed to his just to see what he'd do. George made no protest, and the two of them sat there for three-quarters of an hour, steadily getting drunker and finally giggling at anything that seemed even mildly amusing.
After a bit of this back-and-forth banter, Bonnie reached down and took his hand in her own, squeezing it. He laughed self-consciously, his face actually turning red with embarrassment when she slid his hand up between her bare thighs.
His fingers found her slippery wet pussy, and he jerked in surprise, whispering hoarsely, "God, you're not wearing any panties!"
"I'm sure not," she whispered back just as hoarsely, squeezing her thighs around his hand. "I took them off just for you, Georgie."
He swallowed hard, his fingers probing up into Bonnie's hot cunt until her juices were oozing out and dribbling down onto the smooth plastic of the scat. He said shakily, "My wife… Jill, she wouldn't…"
"She wouldn't even know," Bonnie breathed, her hips already moving back and forth as her knees spread wider under the table. "We could go to a motel."
He seemed embarrassed even more. "I'm out of work, I really don't have much more money than enough for a couple of drinks." Even in the semi-darkness she could see he was blushing furiously.
"I can pay for the room," she said finally. "I've got enough money with me to pay for the motel."
She knew she was giving away just how desperate she really was, but somehow it didn't seem to matter. All she could think about was the two of them, her and George Grayson, locked in a passionate embrace on a motel bed. She shook with an involuntary shiver.
George took a deep breath, much as if he was thinking of his pretty wife Jill, but nodded at last with a nervous smile.
The room was small and sparsely furnished, but it was clean. The two of them stepped in, and George closed the door, his hands shaking as he hooked the safety chain in place. It was obvious he was more than a little nervous about discovery.
He turned around and almost stumbled over Bonnie, who was already grabbing at his belt and undoing it. She managed to get his pants unbuttoned and his fly down, and then she was reaching into his pants for his cock.
"Let's get on the bed, at lent," he laughed, pushing his pants and shorts the rest of the way down and stepping over them. "Relax, Bonnie, we've got plenty of time."
"I'm so damn horny, I can't wait!" she giggled. "Take my dress off. Strip me naked, and then fuck me to death!"
She bounced back on the bed, kicking her shoes off, her hands quickly unbuttoning the front of her dress. Then she pulled her dress open in the front and showed George her damp, bare tits, the nipples purplish red and poking out at him.
George, completely naked, jumped on top of her with a laugh, his arms going around her slender waist and his mouth finding hen. They kissed for a long time, sucking at each other's lips and darting their tongues together.
Pulling away from her, he finished undressing her, Bonnie sitting up while he pulled her dress over her head and tossed it across a chair.
"Will you fuck me till I tell you to stop?" she breathed. With her arms around his neck, she pulled him down on top of her.