She'd felt the tremble of muscular tension ripple over his big heavy body above her. "Goddamn!" he'd blurted. "And… and you mean it, too, don't you, kitten! S-Suck me off…! Shit…! Get ready, honey, big daddy's gonna blow 'em! Oh Christ…"
And he had, his cock had raced into her frantically churning pussy and began to spew its life-draining, masculine semen into her. With bitter frustration, she'd dug her nails into his naked ribs, his arms, his shoulders!
"Oh no… nnooo, Jay, pleaseee?" she'd begged, even knowing it was useless as she thrust her wetly pulsating loins up at him to accept his warmth puddling into her belly.
Until finally, there'd been nothing but the rolling of his huge, passed-out frame off of her, the wild burning hunger aflame in her loins and belly nearly driving her to tears! She wasn't about to try and haul him up onto the pillow; in fact, he could have died right there and she would have probably celebrated! The bastard! The drunken, selfish bastard! Oohhhh… and she'd been so hot… hooottt!
She'd remembered, then, his very own words from the written page luridly streaming through her mind! The identical situation… and without hesitation, she'd sat up, taken Jay's limp hand to place his thick fingers the way she wanted them, and then wormed two of them up into her hotly seething vagina. She locked her naked thighs to hold his fingers in place while she obscenely squirmed and writhed her naked loins onto their semi-limpness, at the same time fingering her tiny, sensitively erect clitoris. In the interim of building climax, she'd lustfully fondled his long flaccid cock and played with his emptied balls, but all of it together as she remembered it now, had hardly been a night of love… anything but the erotic scene she'd enthusiastically imagined…!
"Beth, what about that coffee?"
"Coming… right now," she called back, satisfied that all was on the tray she carried, except her own cup. This, he noticed immediately when she set it on his desk.
"You're not having any, baby?" he questioned, looking up at her with those watery gray eyes that too much Scotch had tattooed with a crimson fringe. He smiled in part, his teeth and lips showing with contrasting white and red through the mow of graying whiskers covering his broad face. Shades of the poor-man's Hemingway, she derisively thought.
"No. I'm going down to the center to do some shopping," she casually replied, examining with feigned interest the work he had ready for her.
"Say… you look sharp, doll… real sexy!" he said, swiveling his chair around to better ogle her. "Now that's my gal! Look at those gams! Christ!"
She smiled to his compliment. "Is there anything you'd like before I leave?"
"Hmmmm, maybe… A fifteen minute taste of you might fire the day's production to no Goddamned end!"
The urge to ask him what he intended to do with the last ten of them, Beth forced herself to put to one side. Instead, she poured his coffee, adding two lumps of sugar. Some fresh air… that's what she needed… amongst other things…
"Where the hell did you get that outfit? I never saw it before, did I?"
She swallowed. Mustn't screw up. "Not since last Thursday or so," she replied, portraying the wifely expression of pleasure at his noticing her. "I bought it the week before I met you."
"Yeah…?" He shook his big head in amazement. "That's a real mini, all right. But you can wear 'em, baby! Come here and give your lover-man a little kiss."
Beth did, smiling. As raucous, lewd, drunken, and self-inflated as he was, there was something about him that could trigger her! Maybe it was his beard, soft and fuzzy when it tickled her cheeks. How would she react to it taunting her inner thighs, like Myra in THE SATANIC MONK…?
"Mmmmmm, honey-dipped lips," he sighed, reaching around to smooth his big hand over the rounded swell of her buttocks.
"Down, rover," Beth gently countered, backing out of his reach, knowing his next move was to ease up in under her tiny skirt, and she certainly didn't want him to learn what she wasn't wearing there! "Can I get you anything before I go?"
He slurped at his coffee, setting the cup down with a clatter of cheap earthen-ware. "As a matter of fact, I think I'll go with you, doll. I need a hair-trim and I can get that while you're doing your thing. What're you shopping for, anyway?"
Beth tensed as she reached down for one of his cigarettes, anger needling her. He sat watching and waiting, making no effort to offer her a light. She scooped up his desk lighter and did it herself, irately wondering what the hell it was that kept her from climbing onto a bus for Chicago!
"Groceries and shoes," she snapped with an exhale of smoke, struggling to keep the ire from her voice. "I-I need a pair… or else a bale of cardboard to slip into those I'm wearing!" she uncontrollably added.
Though she wasn't looking directly at him, his curvaceous long-haired young wife saw his face squinch into a hurt grimace. She walked around his desk toward the window, keeping her back to him, immediately sorry she had said it. Damn, it was those pained expressions he could get in his pitiable eyes which made her melt inside.
"Hey, honey… what's this bit? Y-You know you can have anything you want, don't you? We've got it now… money in the bank… whatever you need to make you happy. Come on, don't twist Daddy's testes like that? Just name it, doll, and it's yours!"
"A-All I want is a pair of shoes, Jay… and I'm not even sure I can find them in the center," she calmly managed, gazing idly through the window as she smoked. "I-I thought I'd stop in at Stan Wilson's…"
"Okay, let's give it a shot, hon! I could use a pair of kicks, myself!" He bounded up from his chair. "This little gem can spare me the morning. Come on, baby! Lover-man's going to take you shopping! Goddamnit, you're going to have all the shoes you can carry home…!"
CHAPTER TWO
Beth couldn't remember when she'd been more uptight, unless it was at her junior prom when her aunt had been chaperone-in-charge, and she'd dated a senior with a reputation of being the coolest, swingingest guy in school! He'd had to drive her home in his father's car with her aunt in the back seat, and the entire way Beth had breathlessly tried to restrain his hot, young hand secretly smoothing up and down her trembling inner thigh for fear Aunt Zelda would get wise and lay an egg right there! And that had been that! He'd never asked her out again! Somehow, this seemed like a repeat performance of that disastrous night!
At the moment, her doting husband, in the most unconventional garb his blatant taste could imagine, was guiding her along the walkways of Edgemont Heights shopping center. Not that there were any fashion-plates in the area, and not that she gave a damn what other people thought, but a pith-helmet, shooting jacket, and bedroom slippers…? And worse, he was sure as the devil about to louse up her vampish little scheme! He had all intentions of accompanying her into Stan Wilson's store and trying on shoes, boots, whatever it was, dumping his big frame right in the seat beside her, and how could she do one damned thing?
Blast it! If only there was some other way of getting to know their neighbors better… at a party, perhaps… She felt certain she could manage it all nicely from there. Last Sunday, in her white, skin-tight shorts and a tiny halter, she'd purposely gone out to putter around the yard, work which she wouldn't even consider if Sara Wilson hadn't set the pace, and knowing that Jay ogled the vivacious brunette in her usual bikini as if she were an exotic dancer. At first, Beth hadn't been sure the handsome Mr. Wilson was seeing her out there doing her exaggerated stoopings and squattings, antics that bordered on the obscene, but she had finally glanced up to catch him watching her from a bedroom window. He'd smiled and waved, and for two days she'd lived on that…