Greg watched as she moved about the room, graceful as ever, beautiful, a gorgeous woman. He licked his lips and swallowed, wishing he had the courage to say to her what his body was urging him to say to her.
As she flitted from dressing table to closet to the bedside stand, Karen occasionally looked over her shoulder and smiled at her husband. He smiled back as he sat on the side of the bed, half dressed, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. A year ago he would have done as he pleased. He would have locked the door and they would have had their fun.
But those days were flitting into the past. Now, when his beautiful blond wife tells him she's going to spend the day downtown shopping, he merely nods and swallows his pride-and his building desire.
He'd awakened after a good night's sleep, pleased that it was Saturday and that he had nothing to do. Of course he'd brought some legal work home with him. How else was a young lawyer going to get ahead at Remington and Edison? Those old bastards judged a man by the weight of his brief case, not by how much weight he carried inside his head.
Still, he had a free day and, especially, a free morning. He'd wanted to spend it with Karen, not shopping downtown but in their apartment. Perhaps in the front room where they could look down on the glittering blue pool and, farther out, the white fringe of beach and the deep blue of the sea beyond. Yes, this view cost them a pretty penny, but they knew that they weren't living in Dubuque when they looked out of it. They knew they were a part of the swinging Southern California set.
Greg's already long face grew longer. But they weren't much for swinging. In their three years of marriage Karen and he had worked hard and played little. They wanted a home of their own, they wanted to start a family, and that didn't leave much time or money for other things.
He looked up as Karen sat at her dressing table again. She wiggled her shoulders to seat her breasts into the tight bra she'd just slipped into. It was a shame she had to wear a bra. Some of the women in the office did not, and some of them should have. But Karen's breasts had no sag and the bra only held them in. Still, this was good. Other men might get ideas about Greg's wife and he didn't want that. Not that Karen would ever be unfaithful, but he didn't want anybody to make any passes by mistake. Karen would be embarrassed because she found it difficult to make other people embarrassed.
Yes, in the front room they could make love, as Karen always called it. Greg called it that, too, in his own mind, but he allowed himself to use rougher language around other men so they wouldn't think he was too square. Yes, the living room, perhaps right on the floor. In the year they'd been in California, in the year Greg had been with the law firm, they'd picked up a lot of inhibiting habits. The floor was out. Only the bedroom would serve now, and not often enough at that.
He sighed as he looked at her square shoulders and her straight back. That back with the delightful lower curve. He had the urge to march over to her and run his hands down that back and into her pants, but he did nothing about it. It wouldn't work. They were both too inhibited now. She'd made her plans to go downtown for the day and there was no turning back. Perhaps later, when their chores were finished for the day, they could return to the bedroom.
But that thought wasn't giving Greg any relief now. He wanted sex. He wanted Karen in the worst way. He watched as she stood and turned in front of the mirror. Then she went to the closet and took a little summer dress off the hook. She lifted it over her head and it settled around her throat, clinging to the peaks of her breasts.
Greg was making a peak of his own. He looked down at his crotch. Yes, his pajamas were rising. His penis was making a tent down there. Even this embarrassed him and he pushed it down between his legs as he crossed them. At another time he would have shown it to Karen and she would have come to him at once.-
But now...Christ. He thumped his fist on the bed and she turned, still wiggling the dress down over her hips. "What was that?"
"Nothing," he muttered. "Just a moth. I think I got him."
She was still pulling the dress down over her thighs as she came toward the bed. Thank God Karen loved to wear minis. With her legs it would be a crime if she didn't. She'd often confessed that she felt embarrassed about showing off her body, but Greg had insisted that it was her duty to look her best. So she still wore her minis and the looks she got on the street told Greg that his wife looked very good.
Not that he wanted her to arouse other men, but he did feel a pride in having a beautiful wife. That long blond hair, blue eyes, her body that was thin but not fragile. She wasn't terribly muscular, but more willowy, a bit taller than most women but lighter in weight than most. She would have made an excellent fashion model, but of course such a career would be out of the question. They both knew what went on in fashion showrooms between models and buyers.
He looked up at her as she stood over him. God but her clothes fit her wonderfully. The dress was tight without being obscene. It clung to her breasts as though the material were wet and it was smooth over her belly and hips. Her thighs were a slim promise and when the high hemline ended the promise was reality. Those beautiful legs, the impossible waist, slim but mature hips, those breasts. And that face, that golden hair, those eyes that could be glacial ice or a warm blue.
"You look kind of funny," she murmured, leaning over him. "You're not angry because I'm going downtown, are you? I do have a lot of shopping to do, including some things for you. You want that saw blade and your underwear is a shambles. I couldn't handle..."
"I know," he replied, holding up his hands. "You work all week and this is your only chance to get things done for us. I appreciate that, honey. You go ahead."
She looked at him for a long time and he felt her eyes slide up and down his body. Maybe she saw the bulge between his legs and maybe she didn't. She sucked on her lower hp for a moment and then she smiled.
"I know, I'll come home early, a couple of hours before dinner." Then she actually blushed. "We could, um...have a little party, just we two."
He grinned at her and his desire grew. He wanted to blurt: Fuck downtown and fuck this afternoon. I want it now. But naturally he didn't say that. "Sure. That sounds wonderful. I'll have my chores done by then, too. I've got that garage door to fiddle with."
"Wonderful." She leaned down quickly and brushed her lips across his cheek.
Why were they so inhibited? For the hundredth time he pondered the question. He was making it all right at work and Karen was getting along well at the telephone company. Christ, who couldn't get along with the telephone company? They had all kinds of benefits and job security.
He thought he knew the answer. In three years of marriage they hadn't varied their routine. It started out as a wonderful routine and their sexual pleasure was thorough and durable. It was almost constant, too, he thought as he smiled. Karen was back at the dressing table, fussing with her hair, and she couldn't see him. But he watched as she lifted her arms and her nipples lifted with them.
But in three years they hadn't progressed. They needed variety in their routine. They needed some fresh approaches. He'd even thought about talking to some the men at work about it, but that would be too much for him to handle. He would feel like a fool reading a book. That was kid stuff, for newlyweds.
He'd noticed his eye roving more. There were a few good-looking girls at work, but Greg was only a looker. He had no intention of cheating on Karen. He didn't want to and he never would. She was too much the total woman for him: gorgeous, loving, intelligent, sensitive and, naturally, totally faithful. She could no more cheat than he and it had never been the slightest problem.
Not that they hadn't had their chances. At least two other couples had not-so-gently suggested that the Eastmans join them in swap parties. They'd been turned down flat. Naturally, Karen could have almost any man she wanted and, as for Greg, he regularly drew looks from the women at the office and in the cafe across the street, at city hall, almost anywhere. At six feet, 185 pounds, with dark hair and a collar ad profile, he found women attracted to him.
Karen had finished with herself and she presented herself for his inspection, doing a little turn that made her skirt fly.-"All right?" she said over her shoulder, her voice slightly saucy. He knew she was thinking about her promise for that afternoon.
He got up and put his arms around her, but she pushed him away at once. "Please don't muss me," she giggled. "Which means keep away or I won't want to go downtown at all. I think that's what you'd really like."
He sighed. "You look beautiful and you'd better hurry home or I'll come after you. You sure you don't want to hold that party now?" He felt foolishly bold making the suggestion.
She looked sad. "I'm sorry, darling. I told the woman at the store that I'd be there at ten, when they open. She's holding a wonderful new skirt and blouse outfit for me.
He turned away and went to the window, looking down at the grounds between their apartment house and the street. The pool was cool blue and empty, sheltered from the street by a high concrete block fence. He would take a cool dip after lunch to keep the steam down between his legs.
Then he noticed the pool wasn't empty. A head popped up right in its center. He recognized it as belonging to the woman next door, in 5-B. What was her name? Taylor. Yes, something Taylor, the older woman with the two kids. Older, maybe, but she didn't look it. He could only guess her age because she had teen-aged children.
As he watched, the Taylor woman stroked easily the length of the pool and back. Then she scrambled up a chromium ladder and shook herself on the concrete like a puppy. There was a lot to shake because she was a large woman, almost as tall as Greg, solid, fit, built like a stainless steel statue. She wore an overmatched white bikini that couldn't begin to cover her curves.
Greg turned away fast. He was doing too much looking. "No," he snapped, "we mustn't keep the lady waiting at the store. It's all right to keep me waiting, though, isn't it?"
"Aw, honey..
"Don't aw, honey me," he replied, his voice still sharp. "Go on, meet your friends. I'll wait my turn."
Color was rising out of Karen's lovely bodice, creeping over the tops of her breasts and up her throat to her cheeks. "Well, if you're in such a hurry why don't you just tear off my clothes and throw me down on the bed? Isn't that the way most animals would do it?"
"Relax," he said, his voice softer. "Go on, now. I'll be right here when you get back. Don't let me be an old bear and spoil your day for you."
Her anger vanished but he knew they were both a bit hurt by the exchange. It wasn't the first spat they'd had that summer and, the way things were going, their mutual frustration would insure that it wouldn't be their last.
"You sure, honey?" She touched his cheek.
If he'd been more sure of himself he would have grabbed at her implied offer and, by sweet Christ, he'd have torn off her clothes and tossed her on the bed. He'd day-dreamed about it more than once and-he was ashamed to admit-the woman he'd torn the clothes off wasn't always Karen. But, once again, thoughts were a long way from overt action. His dreaming was harmless, Greg was certain.
"Yes, I'm sure." He leaned forward and she did, too. Their lips touched and held. He could feel a slight trembling in her. Good. That meant she still had the afternoon on her mind, that she'd be ready. With luck and concentration, they could click like they had in the good old days.
She picked up her purse and rummaged inside until she found her keys. Then she went to the bedroom door and he followed. She smiled down at him. "You'd better get some clothes on in case somebody comes to the door."
He chuckled. "Who would come to the door? But you're right, I can't go down to the garage like this."
"Why don't you just tell the landlord about it? It's his responsibility."
"Because I want the latch job done right," he said. He went with her to the front door, his ache stronger than ever. They kissed again, briefly, and then she was gone. He went to the large window in the living room and waited until he saw the little car pull out of the drive, from under the apartment house. It was sunny outside, a wonderful summer, but suddenly the house seemed cold and empty. They needed one another, all right, but something was wrong.
He sighed, but the sigh was halted in the middle. The neighbor was still in the blue pool below. She was seated on the concrete apron, preening herself. Greg watched in idle curiosity.
Mrs. Taylor was an Amazon, all right. She looked fit and certainly no older than thirty, although he again realized she had to be older than that. The white bikini clung to her like a second skin, and where the bikini wasn't the woman was a deep tan. It was a golden body, long and perfect, heavy in the breasts and firm in the thighs. Lots of power. The waist wasn't as thin as Karen's, of course, but it fit the rest of this giant's proportions perfectly.
Her hair was a sort of rust color. Not really red and not really blond. It seemed to be natural, but that was highly un-likely. Her facial features were strong and, even from two floors up, Greg could see the firm straight nose, the generous mouth with full red lips, the high cheek bones and eyes that might be green.
He grinned to himself. She was unreal in size and form, yet she was real. He let his mind dwell on her for a minute. Imagine being in bed with a machine like that.
He caught himself at once. He knew he'd been doing a lot of daydreaming lately, perhaps too much. That could lead to trouble that he didn't need. Nor want. He told himself once again that Karen was plenty of woman for him.
He turned abruptly from the window, but not before the Taylor woman left the pool. She disappeared under the apartment house and he saw her loping, long-legged stride for a few seconds before she was gone.
Greg returned to the bedroom and there he shucked out of his pajamas, went into the bathroom and began to brush his teeth. He looked dowfr at himself as he did so. His penis was halfway up and he wondered whether it was because of his anticipation of Karen later in the day or because of his thoughts about the redhead. Obviously, it had to be Karen.
He went back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of undershorts, a faded pair of jeans and an old T-shirt. If he were going to be working in the garage he didn't want to mess up anything worthwhile. He also put on tennis shoes. Then he went to the kitchen and got his toolbox.
Outside he padded past the door of 5-B and down the stairs. Under the apartment house he went into the two-car garage area reserved for the Eastmans. There he examined the heavy door, which was a bit too loose. It would be his job to tighten the lugs on either side.
He set about his task, whistling gently through his teeth. His thoughts drifted back to Karen and he thought only about her as he worked. His chore went fast and in less than thirty minutes he had the job done. As he wiped his hands clean and put away his tools he was still thinking about his wife.
The perfect woman. Faithful, gorgeous, intelligent, loving, all the things he'd gone over before. But she wasn't so perfect that he was completely happy. Something was missing, but he refused to believe that it was Karen's fault. After all, if he'd insisted, she'd have remained home with him. She'd never turned him down when he wanted to go to bed.
Still, she wasn't coming around asking for it as much as she once had. On the other hand, he wasn't asking her for it as much, either. Perhaps they were both getting too old. Too old, when he was twenty-five and she was only twenty-three?
Ridiculous!
He was startled when the voice spoke so close to him, and he dropped his wrench on the concrete with a clatter.
"Hi, neighbor."
He looked up and saw her. It was the Amazon, the big redhead from 5-B. She was looking down at him, hands on her hips, a confident smile on her face.
CHAPTER TWO
Greg stood quickly, feeling awkward, as though he'd been caught at something. He even felt himself flush and it was silly because he'd put the Taylor woman out of his mind. He wiped his palms on his thighs.
"Hello," he managed to blurt.
Her smile broadened and he noticed one thing right away: her eyes were green.. Green eyes, rusty hair, a mouth that seemed to promise a great deal. It was a strong neck and throat and the rest of her-was unreal.
He couldn't keep his eyes from straying. They drifted into her throat, which was bare, for Mrs. Taylor wore only a halter that barely contained her heavy breasts. He could see the points of the nipples thrusting toward him like a couple of beacons. Lots of tanned flesh below and then a very brief pair of chopped-off jeans. The jeans might have been painted on, for they were stretched to their apparent limits. The fly was close to gaping open and they were very low, inches below her navel, a deep and interesting depression in her lower belly. They fit around her hips as tightly as the bikini had, and he knew if she were to turn around he'd be able to see the dimples in her buttocks.
"You're my neighbor. The man in 5-A, right?" she said in an easy and low drawl, apparently not noticing his flustered movements. He kept wiping off his already clean hands. "I'm Sigrid Taylor. Pleased to know you."
She thrust out a strong hand like a man and he took it. Her grip was firm and cool. "Hello," he said again. "Yes, I'm Greg Eastman. My wife has been meaning to pop over and welcome you to the place." He wondered if his voice sounded strange and he was annoyed with himself. Quit acting like a schoolboy! something inside himself ordered. You're a grown man, a married man, talking to a mother and an older woman. Except that she didn't look older. She looked superb, in her physical prime, a rare specimen.
She stopped smiling. "I must say it isn't the most friendly place in the world. After more than a week we've hardly said a word to anyone, except the landlord." She brightened her smile again. "But, if you don't object too much, I do have a favor to ask, and it looks as though you're almost finished here."
"I'm finished," Greg said at once and he picked up his toolbox.
"Wonderful." She sucked on her upper lip for a second or two, a movement he noticed at once. "I'm afraid the pilot has gone out in our water heater. I just tried the landlord and there's no answer. David-he's my son-is off somewhere with Diana-my daughter-and, well, I'm just a baby when it comes to messing around with gas...and I was wondering..." she let her voice trail away.
"Glad to help out," Greg said with a briskness in his voice. He'd made up his mind he was going to be a good neighbor. He had the time. He was also going to stop consuming this woman with his eyes. That could only be a bad scene, and he didn't want anything like that going on.
"Right now?" she asked.
He nodded. "I'm free for the rest of the morning...for the day, in fact. Although I was planning a dip in the pool after lunch. I'm playing bachelor for the day." Why the hell had he told her that?
She seemed to look him up and down briefly, but he had to admit he saw no real or personal interest in her glance. "I guess this is my lucky day," she murmured. "If you really don't mind..."
"Let's go," he snapped, all efficiency, the home handyman ready to do a job for a helpless neighbor. But she didn't look helpless. If he ever needed any steel bars bent or straightened he imagined she'd be able to do the job for him.
She turned and led the way out of the garage. Out in the sunlight she waited while he closed the door. Ah, it worked easily and firmly, no more shaking. Then he turned and began to follow her toward the stairs.
He blinked as he looked at her. It was true. He could see the dimples in her buttocks and what buttocks they were: firm, tight, generous but no larger than they should have been to match her frame. He wondered at her power, for she was large and quite obviously in excellent physical condition.
He remembered her stride from having watched her leave the pool. Long-legged, firm brown legs with meaty thighs and calves, but thin ankles. She was barefoot and her feet were large, but not excessively so. She was a hell of a woman, that was all there was to it.
As she walked, her stride as long as his, the cheeks of her bottom quivered up and down, not like fatty cheeks, but like rippling muscles. He watched them carry her weight with surprising grace. Her back was straight and smooth-skinned with a tan that enhanced her grace and power. The shoulders were square, almost like a man's, but there was nothing mannish about her. She was a total female.
They marched up the stairs and again he watched the twitch, coming up close behind her. He half smiled to himself, realizing again that he was thinking like a child. He was only dreaming, and perhaps that was all right, but in merely thinking of another woman in such a fashion he was being unfair to Karen. Unfairness to his wife was out. Verboten.
When they reached her door she opened it at once. It wasn't locked. Inside, the house was cool and in shadows against the slanting morning sun. It was very quiet and she turned to smile at him.
"Usually this is a madhouse when the kids are around. You don't know how much I appreciate a little peace and quiet." She rolled her eyes. "And then the damned pilot blows out and now I'm interrupting your morning."
"Not at all," Greg insisted again.
"You're sweet," she said lightly and he studied her face. She'd spoken without guile, automatically, and he relaxed somewhat.
She led him into the small kitchen. It was a cheerful place with built-ins, of course, a small dining table and, in the far corner by the door that led to the service corridor, the water heater. He detected the faint smell of gas as he knelt and at once he turned off the cock.
"Dangerous?" she said as she stood over him.
He looked up over his shoulder and froze at the sight. It was stunning. Those jutting breasts were over him like a shelf. He could see them lift and fall from underneath and they seemed almost anxious to leap out of the inadequate halter. Her belly was also moving in and out and he could see the faint track of hairs where they marched into her low-slung jeans. He could smell her, too. It was a musky sort of smell mixed with perfume.
"What's the matter?" She sounded frightened. "It is dangerous, isn't it?"
"Huh?" he blurted. "Oh, no, of course not. We'll leave the jet off for a minute to let the gas disperse. Then I'll light it. No problem."
She didn't seem to notice his unrest, except to interpret it in the wrong way. She'd thought he was frightened and, in a sense, he was. He could feel his control begin to desert him. This was a fantastically desirable woman and he knew that she would be a fantastic experience.
She towered over him, hands on her hips, feet planted apart. Her knees were just an inch or two from his hip as she leaned forward. Those legs looked a mile long and they were tan and sturdy. He thought about them being locked around his body and a gasp escaped from him.
"What is it now?" she asked, still apparently puzzled. He felt his penis begin to rise between his legs and he at once wished he'd worn something less tight around the crotch than his old jeans. If he stood she'd see his alertness at once.
"Uh, nothing."
Her expression changed a little and she cocked her head. "Are you sure, Mr. Eastman?"
"Sure I'm sure. And you can call me Greg."
"All right. Greg." Her eyes flickered toward the heater. "Is it time yet?"
"Not quite."
"Come on, I'll show you my new room. I'm proud of it. Fixed it up myself in less than a week."
He struggled to his feet and her eyes flickered down as he did so. He was certain she could see the embarrassing bulge. He felt guilty of betraying Karen and he swore to himself. But she turned away and again he was following her. Through the front room and into a bedroom. It was familiar because the plan was the same as 5-A.
She opened the door and stood aside. He peered past her into what he could only describe as a gymnasium in miniature. There was wall-to-wall matting, weights, an exercise bicycle, rings on the walls attached to springs, a machine on which the user could run on a moving belt. Everything.
"This is where I keep in shape," Sigrid announced. "The whole family uses it. We're fitness nuts."
He smiled, feeling bold for a moment. "I can see that it's working."
"Thank you." She still seemed without guile, but there was a wise look in her eyes, as though she were accustomed to having men say bold things to her. How could it be otherwise? She had years on her and certainly a great deal of experience. "I suppose you can light it now."
"Yes." They marched back toward the kitchen. "Uh, is there a Mr. Taylor?"
She shook her head at him. "Divorced, but I made him pay. That's how I can afford this without working. That bastard had to pay through the nose for the fun he had with me. I made sure of that. And he's got plenty. A marine engineer. They make more than nickels and dimes, you know. I get my share every month."
He said nothing as he knelt before the water heater again. She was right over him and abruptly his hands were shaking and sweating. No husband. The kids gone. Christ, she was a lot of woman.
"You're doing it again," she snapped.
"What?"
"Trembling like that thing is going to explode." Then she touched his shoulder until he looked up. "Or is it me you're afraid of? My sweet Christ, I do believe it is." She lifted her head and laughed, hands on her hips. "By God, the same old story."
Greg flushed at once, angry and embarrassed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I'll be you don't," she replied. "Well, here we go again. The cat playing with the mouse. I wonder if I feel like being a cat again. You'd make a hell of a mouse, I know that much."
He merely shook his head in denial and his eyes stung as he got lower on his knees. He couldn't focus on the hole where the pilot was, and as he reached into his jeans for matches he dropped them.
"Here," she said and he caught the continued amusement in her voice. She got down next to him and picked up the matches. "Light it first, before we all go through the ceiling."
"First?"
"Just light it, Greg honey."
Miraculously, he was able to accomplish it and the small flame flickered properly. He began to get up and his rising back sank into a twin softness just below his shoulders. She was over him like a blanket, somehow supporting herself, her breasts not permitting him to get up.
"Greg?" she whispered in his ear and he was sweating down the middle of his back, undoubtedly staining his T-shirt.
"What?" His voice was rasping and he'd dropped the matches again.
"You'd better stay down there a couple of minutes...to check it, you know. We don't know how it went out in the first place." The voice was throaty, seductive, as though she had decided to play the cat with her mouse. God damn her, she was so strong, so in control. He thought about jumping up and brushing her aside as he raced to the door, but he didn't think about it very much.
So he stayed where he was and the breasts pressed into his back. She was somehow moving her torso and her breasts were moving in slow circles. God, how they dragged his T-shirt with them, pulling the shirt from his jeans. It was driving him crazy.
His prick was like a stone as she reached over his shoulder, pushing down hard to recover the matches. She tossed them on the counter. Then she was heavy on m again and he felt her belly against the small of his back. It was a hard belly, yet it gave like something much softer and its heat radiated into his body. "Don't get up," she warned. We're not certain." He gasped. "I won't," he stammered as she laughed low in her throat. God, she was so cool for a woman with so much heat inside her body.
The breasts and the belly were moving inunison as she slowly ground herself against him. "You like that, Greg."
"like what?"
"Oh, God, one of those. A guy who pretends he can't understand what's happening. I know, you're faithful and you're innocent, trapped like a fawn, unable to cope, not knowing what in the world is going to happen."
He gulped but did not reply as her arms went over his shoulders and she draped herself on him fully. The effect was electric and Greg wished to hell he'd made Karen stay home. As it was it was much too late.
He felt terribly embarrassed, but the plain truth was that he was coming in his jeans. He felt the sperm begin to march and there was nothing he could do about it.
"You're hot and bothered, Greg my lad." She was laughing at him again.
"You're crazy," he managed to snap, but his prick was swelling until he feared his fly would burst.
She reached around his body and pretended to be studying the water heater. He pretended, too, but it wasn't easy. "I thought you said there wouldn't be an explosion," she giggled. "Well, I suppose it's all right. After all, it's been a while for me, too, and I really don't have any neighborhood friends, yet. You'll do very nicely. Thank goodness for pilot lights."
Greg was gasping, trying to hide his discomfort. God, he felt like a high school kid who couldn't keep things under control at Inspiration Point.
But Sigrid was tuned in and she took charge. She pulled herself from him, stood him up and pressed him against the drain board. Then her fingers were ripping his jeans open and his prick was out like a lance.
"Jesus!" she exclaimed, and Greg felt a wave of foolish pride. At least she didn't laugh at his size.
He was beginning to come as she jerked his jeans down to his knees. His shorts went with them. Then she was ripping at her own jeans, but it was too late. He was coming, squirting like a milk truck gone crazy.
Her halter and her jeans were still in place as his white fountain splattered across her belly and, as his heart pumped hard, sent a jet all the way up to her breasts and then down lower. It was sliding down her belly and into the waist of her tight jeans until they were turning dark before his eyes.
He glanced into her face, expecting to find anger. Instead she was smiling.
"Wonderful," she whispered as he continued to come and she stood before him, not protecting herself. "We're going to have a lovely day together. You and me and the gymnasium."
CHAPTER THREE
At last Greg finished coming, but his cock didn't feel lifeless at all. Indeed, it retained most of its rigidity as Sigrid continued to smile at him. He stared at the mess that was plastered down her front.
"Look at you," he half whispered.
"You'd better clean me up," she commanded, a look of false anger on her face.
"Of course." Again he was following her, through the living room, past the gymnasium and into the small bathroom, where she turned to him. "What should I do?" he blurted.
'Take charge," she snapped, dropping her hands and standing before him.
Greg licked his lips as he moved behind her. There he fumbled with heavy fingers until he got the knot of her halter untied. The slight garment sprang from her body and dangled loosely from her neck. He was back in front of her, staring down at those breasts as she lifted the halter over her head.
Those were beautiful breasts, he realized, surely as beautiful a pair as he'd seen in his life. They had large brown nipples and they were remarkably high and pointed for their size. The upper slopes were a delight to behold and the heavy lower curves were exciting. He wanted to test their weight in his hands.
"Here," she said, beckoning to him. She pulled the damp T-shirt over his head and then she jerked at his half-lowered jeans until they were piled around his ankles. He stepped from them and looked down. They both stared at his cock. It was right back up there, apparently ready to go again. She clucked. "I don't know what you've got, but it looks pretty tough. You're more of a man than I figured."
Greg didn't bother to reply. Instead he dropped his hands to her waist and there he opened the top metal button. The force of her belly began to spread the jeans at once. There wasn't a spare fraction of an inch. Then she slid her zipper and the forest of rusty pubic hair was in view. So she was a natural redhead.
He stared, eyes wide, and the sight of her breasts and belly rising and falling was driving him wild. She planted her feet once again and put her hands on her hips. Her smile seemed to mock him still, even though he knew she was pleased with the size of his cock.
Then he was working at her hips, rolling down the jeans. She wore nothing underneath them, of course, as he'd figured all along. Somehow an Amazon like Sigrid Taylor wouldn't be bothered with nonessentials. He rolled the jeans down over the wide flare of hips. Then he was pushing them down her thighs, pressing...pressing...
Her crotch swam into view, an exciting cleft crowned by its rusty forest. But through the forest he could see the ring of pink. Yes, she was as large down there as she was everywhere else. But he knew his cock would be large enough in its own right.
"Do you like it?" she whispered and for a moment he thought she was breaking down for him. He peered into her face, but the green eyes were still mocking. She knew she had a lot and there was no doubt in her mind that she knew she was great for any man.
"You know the answer to that," he muttered, feeling not un-like a hurt child.
He continued working, dragging the jeans over her knees and then dropping them to the floor. As he knelt to remove them she balanced herself on one foot and then the other, resting her hands on his head. While he was down there he pulled off his tennis shoes.
He was back on his feet and she was still before him, feet wide, fists on hips. "All right, big man," she hissed, "let's see if you can make me hot. You went off like a seventeen-year-old Marine on his first night out of boot camp. Me, I've got staying power. I can hold back. Come on, let's see if you're man enough to really take charge."
Greg cleared his throat and then he accepted her challenge. He would reduce her, all right. He didn't like being dominated by a woman, even a powerful woman like Sigrid. He had his respect and he'd show her a thing or two.
He leaned very close to her, but didn't touch her body. He paused, his mouth an inch from hers. He puckered his lips, but he didn't kiss her. Then he raised his hands to her breasts, fingers cupped. He allowed them to hover over each breast, but they remained an inch from her brown nipples. They did not touch.
"What the hell are you doing?" she rasped, and Greg saw the first hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "Come on, most guys would have me all pulled out of shape by now."
He only smiled a thin smile. His hands went up to her throat, still hovering, not touching. Then they passed over her breasts again, down over her ribs. He slid them around her waist and they touched over her buttocks, but they didn't graze her cheeks. He felt her quiver like a mare in heat and he smiled more broadly.
"You son of a bitch," she hissed. "Get going!"
He remained silent, bringing his hands back to the .front. He dropped them over her lower belly, feeling only a few stiff hairs catch in his fingers as he stayed an inch from her belly and then an equal distance from her cunt. He went lower and then dipped in between her planted legs. Still he didn't touch flesh while he reached under her as far as he could before withdrawing.
When his hands came out he looked into her face. The pupils of her green eyes were dancing and there was sweat on her forehead and upper hp. She licked her lips with the point of a pink tongue and half smiled. The lips weren't very firm now.
"So, what's next?" She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and waited.
It was on him in a flash. He froze, looking at his hands as though they'd turned into talons. What the hell was he doing? Christ, he was Greg Eastman, married-happily-to Karen Eastman. He had no right, no desire, even, to be playing games with another woman. Conscience washed over him and he dropped his hands. His chin was trembling and he couldn't make it stop.
"I'm getting out of here," he blurted.
Sigrid's strength rushed in to fill the void and she was abruptly in command again. As he turned to flee she caught his wrist and spun him back to face her.
"Come on, Greg, baby. Look at this body. Admit you'd love to have it. Who's going to know, except you and me? I can show you a time like you've never had before."
"No," he snapped. "I've got a wife who gives me everything I need."
"No one person-man or wife-gives the mate everything. It's just not possible, not possible at all." Sigrid had let go of him, but he wasn't running away. "Come on, I'll let you do it all, if you like. I'm not going to rape you, for heaven's sake." i
Greg swallowed but he continued to shake his head. Sigrid turned on a smile that seemed kind and gentle and, just as gently, she took his wrists. She pursed her lips at him as she pulled his hand toward her. "Come on, baby. You promised to clean me up, at least. Take that wash cloth off the bar and run hot water over it."
She let go of him and he did as she asked. He soaked the cloth in the sink and squeezed some of the hot water from it. Then he turned to her, looking down, seeing the half dried semen on her lower breasts, her belly and down into her pubic hairs. It was already turning into a white crust.
He licked his lips and then he pushed the cloth toward her. Gently he touched it to her belly and he moved it in circles. The come washed from her smooth
I and tawny flesh easily and he made larger circles until i he was up just under her breasts. They were so heavy, ; so proud, so obviously firm and soft at the same time. "Don't be afraid," she coaxed.
He took a deep breath and then he pressed the, cloth J over her right breast. God! His fingers sank in, enough I to feel the heat close around them, even though he wasn't pressing hard. He could see the outline of the nipple through the cloth, and as he pressed his palm down over it he could feel its thrust against him. It was turning hard even as he felt the brown point and it continued to stiffen as he gently turned the cloth back and forth. He then wiped off the underside of the breast until it was clean.
He sighed as he moved to the other breast and repeated the process. He wiped the nipple carefully, leaning his face close. "Go ahead, do what you want to do," Sigrid whispered, her hands on her hips, feet still planted wide. Christ but she was a proud giant.
He didn't want to do it, but that offered nipple was like a piece of candy being presented to a child. He looked at the puckered brown flesh and at the button in the center where the flesh was drawn tight as the nipple popped out toward him.
Without Greg willing it, his head came forward and down and he found himself kissing the nipple. She purred over him like a mother lion and he opened his lips. The tip popped inside and he sucked on it. She purred louder and, after a few moments, she gently took his head by the ears and transferred his mouth to her other nipple.
He pulled it into his mouth for several minutes and then he lifted his head. His cock was standing out from his body as his power flowed back into it. He may have shot his wad only a short time ago in the kitchen but, by God, he had plenty of strength left. He was ready to go off all over again.
"I'm still getting out," he rasped, but there was no resolution in his tone and he knew that she knew it. She only laughed and then she pointed down at herself.
"You're not finished with the cleaning job."
"All right," he snapped. "But then I'm cutting out before I do something silly again."
But his body was flashing different messages. His prick was like steel and his senses were roaring in his ears. He wanted more-a hell of a lot more-from this Amazon. He wanted it but he kept telling himself he didn't want it. Christ, he was a married man, a professional man. He wasn't some ass who would lay any chippy who showed herself to him.
But he wiped her lower belly and worked into her hairs. Here he had to do more scrubbing and he rinsed the cloth and applied fresh hot water. He worked lower and soon he was at the very top of her cunt. He gulped and pushed his way down until he could feel the heat and softness of her lips.
"Oh, yes," the redhead was moaning. "Yes, yes. I think it's about time I got my rocks off. After all, you've had a blast and I'm still a virgin." She giggled. "For today, anyhow."
Greg didn't say anything. He cleaned her up and as he finished he noticed that she was switched on, all right. She was moving her box in a slow circle, undulating at her hips, very slowly and gently, so that he almost missed it. She was pushing it toward him, offering him everything, holding back nothing. It was a delicious meal on a golden platter.
He found himself licking his lips again. At last he sighed and tossed the cloth aside. He stared down into that crotch, at those rusty hairs, the pink underneath, at the shine of her juices as her heat increased. She was oiled, gassed and lubricated, ready for any trip on which he cared to take her.
She smiled and toyed with his chin, dragging a fingernail over the slight beard stubble. "If you still want to run home to your National Geographic magazines, I won't stop you."
He shook his head like a man in a trance, and in a sense it was a fact He couldn't think clearly, the buzzing in his guts was too loud. His cock demanded satisfaction-again-and there would be no denying it.
At last his fingers went into her crotch and he squeezed them over her puffy damp lips, pinching them together and enjoying the look on Sigrid's face as her eyes rolled up into her head for an instant. She staggered, but she didn't fall. Her hands were back on her hips, her fists clenched, her legs planted. She was still the proud Amazon daring this ordinary mortal to try his best.
He flexed his fingers and then he brought his other hand up. He used them both to part the hairs and peer into her depths. That pink treasure house had the welcome mat out. She was secreting, possibly even experiencing some minor orgasms, but nothing heavy-not yet.
Her breathing had turned into a rasping, her lips were parted and sweat trickled down the side of her face.
The face was flushed and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. But she did not flinch. She did not lose her proud stature. He felt he could have shoved a hot poker up into her and she would have taken it without a whimper.
He extended a finger instead and shoved it up into her. She staggered again, but still she did not lose control. She was an experienced playmate, a woman who knew how to keep her game under control.
He shoved the finger all the way up and it was joined by a second and then a third finger. He rammed them up into her again and again, until she finally staggered. She lurched to one side and half fell against the sink, which she clawed at with her hands to keep from falling. He felt the convulsions start, and she was shooting into his hands. It was a single large bolt of passion and it stopped almost at once. , But it seemed to take nothing out of Sigrid. Her strength was as rock-like as ever. She stared into his eyes, hers on a level with his, and she smiled. She parted her lips and whispered, "Not bad, for a hand job. What else have you got that works?"
This," he said, pulling his fingers from her and wrapping them around his prick. It was hard, throbbing and almost as wide as a baseball bat. "This works pretty good. Would you like to find out?"
'What do you think?" she teased.
He pushed her hard against the sink and it caught her right across the buttocks, so that he could bend her back and make her hips angle forward. She leaned far back, her hands behind her braced" against the rear edge of the sink. Her knees fell apart when he tapped them, when he gave the command to get ready for his entry.
Then Greg moved between those tanned knees, up between her thighs. He allowed his knob to drag along the inside of a thigh, leaving a trail of shiny smear as his secretions wiped off on her. Then his knob rammed into her bush and pushed about as it looked for the hole.
He found it and at once he sank two inches up inside her. Sigrid sighed and smiled, her eyes beginning to glaze, although the green glitter was as powerful as ever. He thrust himself again, shoving another three inches up into her. It was a surprisingly tight fit, for she was a large woman in every way. But Greg knew he was well hung, that he never had to be ashamed of his prick. He could fill any woman.
He began to pump and he took it very slowly. She also pumped, lifting her hips and working them against his groin as their rhythm picked up harmony and they began to work as a single powerful machine.
In a minute they were stroking easily, back and forth, she drawing back as he did and then coming forward as he did so that their loins smacked together in a moist sound that was like a piston delivering energy.
"You're going to be good," she purred as he worked.
"I am good," he countered.
"All right, you bastard, you are good. Just keep going. If you let me down I'll kill you." v
"I'm not going to go down for a long time. I can keep this thing up indefinitely, as you'll see." He was talking big and he'd never spoken to a woman this way, not even to Karen. She was too good, too wholesome for smutty talk. He found it was a thrill to say anything to Sigrid that he pleased. So he added, "Fuck you."
She giggled even as she gasped. A ripple of pleasure must have raced through her. "Junior's learned a new word."
He didn't reply. Instead he pumped harder and soon he felt his sperm join ranks, line up and race forward like a line of advancing infantry. In seconds he was beginning to pump his thick stuff up into her and in that instant he felt the strong muscles inside her cunt clutch at him and suck his cock up into the gate of her womb.
They were coming together, struggling, fighting, writhing against the sink, grunting, sweating, eyes rolling, teeth grinding. He spurted into her time after time, feeling her muscles like educated fingers as they coaxed everything he had to give.
Sigrid was whimpering, but not in pain or fear. She was letting herself go, almost humming to herself, anything to hang on to the spell as long as possible. She showed Greg an orgasm like he'd never experienced before, slamming her crotch into him minute after minute, so that their mingled fluids were running down their thighs and dripping on the tile floor.
Finally they were spent and their glistening bodies sagged together. Her head was against his shoulder and he heard her heavy breathing slowly subside. At last she was normal and she lifted her head, pushing against his chest so she could look him in the eye.
"You're a good man, Greg Eastman. As good as I've seen. But how long can you be good?"
"Long enough," he boasted. "Come on, you'll see."
CHAPTER FOUR
They clung to each other for several minutes as their bodies slowly dried. Then they stepped apart and he looked down at her crotch. It was a mass of stringy come and the insides of her thighs were streaming with their juices. It was all the way down over her feet.
"Christ, you're a mess," he muttered.
"You're no Mister Clean yourself," she countered. "You look like you got caught in the middle of an exploding library paste factory."
"So what do we do?"
"They have a wonderful new invention," she teased, as she pointed behind him. "It's right there."
He turned and looked at the shower stall. "Very, funny. Who gets to go in first?"
She giggled like a schoolgirl and she turned her gaze down as she replied, "There's always room for. two,, in case we race and it comes out a tie."
Again the wave of conscience broke over Greg. Jesus, he'd come twice with this woman. When he decided to cheat he did it in a big way. Well, by God, it was ending now. It was going to be finished before he really got hooked. Tm getting out of this place. At once."
"You said that before," she said. "Just before you decided to fuck me."
"This time I mean it."
She turned her mouth down as she shrugged. "Go ahead, but suppose you get home and she's there. Wouldn't you look pretty, all sticky and smelling like a whorehouse."
He hesitated. She was right. His clothes would smell, even if Karen weren't home. He'd need to hide them in the hamper and she might find out. He sighed as he looked into those laughing green eyes.
"Okay, so I shower here."
"There's a good boy." She marched past him, her breasts bobbing with a firm quiver. She opened the glass shower door and stepped inside. There she turned on the water, twisting both handles at once. She squealed and leaped aside until the temperature rose and then she beckoned.
Greg sighed and stepped into the stall next to her. It was surprisingly large and he could stand without touching her. The water was warm, not too forceful, and it felt good washing over his shoulders. Sigrid lathered her hands and arms and then she handed him the soap.
"Okay, tiger, do my back."
She presented her back to him and he gripped the soap. It was a beautiful back, long and curving in sharply at her waist before the delightful twin flare of her meaty buttocks. He looked down at their dimpled cheeks and in that instant he noticed the change in himself. His cock was rising again! He sighed, almost ashamed that his prick wanted to stick itself into this creature another time, that it had some strength left to give an account of itself.
He was careful to keep the prick from touching her as he lathered a washcloth and then pressed it between her shoulders. He rubbed the wonderful warm flesh, working in circles all the way from the back of her neck down to the sharp curve of her spine. He didn't want to go lower. That would be trouble.
But, as he looked at those buttocks, it was inevitable that Greg would go lower. He had to and the cloth slipped down to the very top of the crack in her bottom. She made a small sound he could hear over the hiss of the shower, but she did not turn around. Instead she planted her feet apart and she leaned her hands against the wall to brace herself.
The cloth dropped to the floor but he didn't notice. His fingers went to each side of the crack, down over the cheeks until they were at the widest part of her bottom. He sank them into her softness and felt her flinch. The muscles tightened under his touch and, when he relaxed, they did, too. Then he kept making circles, soapy circles as he worked on each cheek until he could feel her trembling begin.
Sigrid looked over her shoulder at him, her face and hair streaming. "You're learning fast. What did you have in mind?"
He shook his head. "I really don't know. We'll both find out in a minute."
"The Greeks had a word for it."
"Huh?"
"Oh, nothing. It's up to you, baby."
He moved his hands to the very bottom where her cheeks were just slightly underslung. God, she had the body of a twenty-year-old when she had to be at least fifteen years older than that. He lifted each hand and the cheeks rose. She bowed forward as he pressed into her strength, but she did not move. Her feet remained apart, her hands planted against the wall.
Greg licked his lips and allowing his anxious hips to ease forward. It was inevitable that his cock would graze a buttock and it did. It raked across her left cheek and she knew at once what was touching her. He heard her make another small sound and he grinned as the hot water streamed down his chest and belly to wash over his rod.
He slid the cock back and forth and allowed it to dip in and out of the crack for several minutes. At least he saw her look over her shoulder again. "Come on, instinct should tell you what comes next."
Yes, surprisingly, although this was a first, he knew what to do. The female body presented an opening to him and he had something to penetrate that opening, so it was the only thing to do.
He got up on his toes and shoved the cock into the top of her crack again. Then he let his body settle and the cock slipped down into the deep vastness of her crack, the knob out of sight as it burrowed into her softness, into those ample cheeks that welcomed him so completely.
He knew when he reached the anus. She flinched and he felt the cheeks suck in. He paused and waited until she began to relax. He could feel the petals of her hole begin to unfold for him. They loosened and became softer and then he began to push gently.
It was easier than he'd have believed. The end of the knob worked its way inside and, when he gave a sharp and quick lurch, the whole knob was hooked into her, held fast by the wide flange that acted as a lock. He lifted his hands to the back of her neck and he kneaded her flesh until he felt the tight muscles soften.
Then he gave another sharp push and several inches disappeared inside her body. It was remarkable the way she could accommodate inch after inch of thick prick without apparent pain. He pressed on, all the while massaging her neck and her back. He put his hands around her hips and pressed his fingers into her ribs and belly, where the muscles also relaxed for him.
With a final lurch he shot his cock all the way home. His heavy balls flapped against the backs of her thighs, and she was reaching between her legs and then up so that she could grasp at his sack. Her hands found it and gently rolled his balls from one palm to the other.
The tingling was delightful and it was transmitted at once to the base of his cock where it was sent on out toward the knob. When it reached its destination his pleasure was doubled. This was a talented woman who knew how to get the most pleasure out of a man-and how to put the most pleasure into him. His awareness was abruptly heightened as his knob became totally sensitive. He could feel everything now, as though his prick were as good at touching as his fingertips.
He could feel his cock pushing things up into her, shunting other things aside, crowding her narrowing passage as it forced its way all the way inside. He would have thought it a disgusting experience, but it was only a new and delightful experience for him. There were sensitive areas he'd never dreamed of penetrating. They were his for the taking. Greg was learning and he loved being a student.
He began to pump and her hips joined in his rhythm, just as they had a while earlier in the bathroom. This was fucking all over again, only with a twist. He reached around her hips and tried to put his hands into her cunt, but he found her hands were already there. She was taking care of herself while he worked at the back door.
So he grasped her hips tightly and began to drive. He rammed himself into her for several minutes-ejaculation would take longer because he couldn't come indefinitely without beginning to run out of sperm-and his prick' tingled more and more until he was ready to go off.
"This is it," he panted, thankful that fresh clean water was constantly washing over their bodies.
"You said it," she panted right back at him. "I'm all set to rumble. It's coming...my God! Right now! I can't stop it! Oh...I'm turning myself inside out. My fingers, that prick of yours...they should get married. I'm going to pass out. No, I can't. God damn it, I'm the strong one. I can't pass out. Who would tell you what to do? Christ but I'm making more syrup than Log Cabin ever thought of making."
Then Greg was coming, hard, as hard as he had all morning. He was pleased that he could spurt so much, could so enjoy for the third time feeling his guts collapse and then puff up, time after time, sending shooting spasms all through his body. He emptied his sack into her, wondering where the stuff would end up. Probably all the way into her stomach, if it could wind its way through those intestines. "
He expended himself, panting, driving, clinging to her hips and then raising his hands to fasten them over her slippery breasts for the final shot. She kept leaning against the wall, shuddering, her head hanging like a wet mop, sobbing, gasping, quaking as though the entire earth were moving.
When they were through they sagged, strength drained, collapsing in a heap on the shower stall tile. They were tangled together, all breasts, bottoms, arms and legs. They panted for several minutes until their breathing returned to normal and he was able to reach up and turn off the water.
He looked at her and giggled, giggled as he had when he was a teen-ager jacking off to show his friends how mature he was, how he'd already become virile enough to expend jizz from his adolescent prick. Sigrid laughed back at him, her arms going loosely around his neck. She pressed her breasts into his chest and allowed her fingers to tickle the back of his neck.
"Did that work out or did that work out?"
"It worked out." He looked down at his limp cock. "I'm finished for a week."
"like hell."
"What?"
She began to struggle to get up. "Come on, I'll show you, you're not finished. My patented treatment will make you a new man-and a big and hard man, once again."
He struggled up with her. Their knees were wobbly as they crept out of the shower. They dried one another with heavy towels, making their flesh tingle. He didn't think he would have any tingle left, but her rubdown brought it back. His body was glowing, and so was hers.
That great body. She looked as sleek as an otter as he wiped the clean droplets from her smooth, tan flesh. She purred and stretched herself as he dried her, his hands going into every hollow, over every curve. She spread her legs so he. could dry her cunt hairs and, as he worked her, he was amazed to discover his prick was losing its lifelessness.
"See?" she blurted, pointing down at him. Then she grasped his hand. "Come on."
She pulled him with her, out of the bathroom, which was steamy and damp from their marathon shower, down the hall to the bedroom-turned-gymnasium. He looked around the place again, pleased with the softness of the wall-to-wall mat under his feet. Hell, a man-or a man and a woman-could flop down just about anywhere.
"We all use this place," she said, turning to him, beautiful in her nakedness. "David and Diana are in as good a shape as I am. They're strong little kids. You'll see for yourself."
He stared at her and then down at himself. Sure enough, his cock was still coming to life. Sigrid looked down at it, too, and she laughed aloud as she dropped to her knees, abruptly and hard on the mat. Her breasts jiggled from the shock but her body took the jarring easily.
She grasped his hips and looked his prick straight in the eyes. "Ready, tiger? It's dessert time."
Tm leaving," he shot back. He was getting cold feet. He'd had enough and he didn't want her to disgrace him by outlasting him this way.
"Not without your dessert," she insisted and her arms went around his thighs.
She pulled him against her and his cock-now straight out-shot into her face. She caught it expertly on her mouth and her pursed lips kissed it. The effect was immediate, like an electric switch being thrown. He felt the shock, the tingle, the buzzing in his balls. Incredible! Yet another time! He was secretly pleased at his virility.
She didn't fool around. She knew he might go soft at any moment-he was only mortal-so her mouth opened and she rammed her face on the fat knob. It slipped inside and she pushed on quickly until she had several inches in her mouth. He felt the knob drag across the roof of her mouth, over gently nursing teeth and tongue, until it was slipping down her throat.
He was starting to come almost at once and she worked fast, pumping, her head almost a blur before him, her hands pulling his hips back and forth like pistons. Then he was once more shooting his thick jizz, feeling it well inside him, making his prick puff dangerously and then exploding into her throat. He could feel her throat muscles gulping, taking it, swallowing it all so that no drops escaped.
It was over in a few minutes and he knew the scene would be repeated before long. He wanted more. By God, he was going to get more!
CHAPTER FIVE
Once again they did a clean-up job on one another in the shower, and then Sigrid took Greg back into the kitchen, where the whole thing had started. There she sat him down at a small table while she prepared their lunch. He found himself wolfing down hot stew, a big glass of milk and a piece of pie. He never ate such a large lunch.
Sigrid laughed, her hands on her hips and he had to smile at the bizarre scene. Supposing somebody walked in and found the two of them, stark naked, giggling in the kitchen? .-
"Of course you're hungry," she said, leaning over him and pecking him lightly on the mouth. "You've had a hard morning's work. First you fixed your garage door and then you got my pilot going again." She had to laugh once more. "Christ, did you get my pilot going!"
He frowned. "What about your lads? Suppose they came in now."
She shook that beautiful head and the green eyes flashed. "Forget about them . t. until later, anyhow.
They're out on the town. If I know them-and I do-they won't come back until they get hungry. That would be just before dinnertime. They time it perfectly."
He finished his lunch and sat back, feeling great. He was pleasantly tired, clean from the double shower, and he felt like a real man inside. He felt more satisfied than he had in months. By God, he'd earned this man's lunch and he smacked his lips.
She sat across from him and he watched her put away a lunch as large as his own. "Do you want more."
"she said at last.
"Food?" he asked, knowing he shouldn't have opened the door again. "Forget I said that."
Sigrid got up, piled the dishes in the sink and then she came to him. She extended her arm and he caught her hand. With her power she had him on his feet at once. "Come on."
He followed her into the gymnasium, that little bedroom-turned-gym where he'd had his last orgasm. He gazed at her as she examined the various exercise gadgets and again he marveled that they could work such miracles with her body. He shouldn't have asked, but he did. "How old are you, Sig?"
"Thirty-eight," she said at once' and there was no hint that she was anything but proud of her age. "Why? I know, you think I look ten years younger."
"At least."
She laughed. "If you'd work out you'd shed years, too. Come on, join in."
He watched as she went to a wall where two rings were attached to heavy, coiled springs. She planted her feet in the padded floor, curled her toes and then grasped each ring, her back to the" wall. She pulled hard, bringing her arms forward. He saw her muscles tighten, her breasts lift and her hips go back as she pulled forward. When she released her hold, her body relaxed for an instant, the muscles softened and her crotch came forward again. It was erotic, almost the movements of fucking, he realized. His crotch stirred. She smiled at him. "You like it."
"I like to watch...but now I really am going to get the hell out of here. I'm finished with you, Sig. I mean it." He turned toward the door. "Promise you won't tell Karen about what happened here today."
"What kind of a shit do you think I am?" Sigrid shot back. "Of course I won't tell. I'm not that kind of a little girl. I don't kiss and then squeal on anybody."
"I appreciate that."
She stopped pumping for a moment and somehow he couldn't get moving toward the door. "What did you say you are, a lawyer? Christ, you sound like one."
Greg flushed, knowing she had him. He'd gotten his kicks, gotten her to promise to protect him and now he was going to duck out on her, to return to the straight life before he got into trouble. He felt like a bastard. "I'm a heel," he admitted, "but I'm a cheater and I wouldn't want to hurt Karen. After all, I've never done this before and of course she would never do this to me.
Sigrid snorted. "like hell she wouldn't."
"You don't know my wife," he countered, and he began to move himself toward the door. He'd get dressed and forget this happened-if he could.
"You don't know human beings," she shot back and he paused. "Look at yourself. Two hours ago you would have bet anybody on a stack of Bibles that you'd never screw around with another woman. You love your sweet Karen too much. You don't cheat. You're above all that. Bull shit. Look at you, reamed front and back and still your cock wants more."
He looked down at his betraying penis. It was most of the way up, ready for another command, and he felt rather proud of his strength. He shook his head.
"Maybe so. I'm weak, but you still don't know Karen. She's a saint, an angel. She's nothing if not completely loyal and devoted to me."
"Of course she is," the Amazon said, beginning to exercise again. He stared at the rippling body. "That doesn't mean she doesn't want and need a little poon on the side. Tell me, don't you ever suspect she's bored...just like you were bored?"
"Who said I'm bored?" he snapped.
'Your cock told me, lover. I knew when you first looked at me that you wanted something on the side. Don't be ashamed, everybody wants a little of the green grass on the other side of the fence."
She was exercising again and he abandoned all thoughts about leaving the room. Instead he turned back to her and squatted like a football player on the sideline, watching the varsity work out. She heaved back and forth and he knew he would need to do something about that. He still had plenty of time before Karen or either of the Taylor kids came home.
"You still don't know my wife," he insisted. "She's more straight arrow than anybody I've ever met."
"Straight arrows like to bury themselves in a fresh target once in a while." The body pumped, back and forth...back and forth. "No."
Pumping..."Yes."
Her body was starting to shine and beads of sweat were on her upper lip. Soon he saw a drop run down from her throat between her breasts. Then sweat was running down her ribs from under her arms. Christ, she was a streaming goddess, an Amazon who wouldn't quit before she pulled the walls down around herself.
She caught him looking at her and she raised her eyebrows. "Come on, want to join in?"
He shook his head. "Handball at the club does it for me, thank you."
"Something is doing it for you," she said, stopping. "You've got a great body, Greg. And you can't wait to use it on me again, despite your holy crap about morality and loyalty to your wife. You're not being disloyal. You're getting outside experience, something to take home. Next time you screw Karen you'll be a better man. If she's a real woman, she'll appreciate it. And I'm sure she's a real woman."
"You bet your ass she is," he blurted.
"Which proves my point. She'd love to get some outside experience, too, even though she probably doesn't realize it." She was smiling as she panted, half out of breath. He couldn't take his eyes from her glistening breasts.
"No," he said, hardly hearing his own voice. He was going after more. There was no stopping him.
Sigrid grasped the rings again and once more that marvelous body was heaving to and fro, sweating, panting, sucking great breaths that made it tremble. Greg got up on his knees and watched it come toward him and then go back, time after time.
Then he was waddling toward the body, still on his knees, looking like a duck in heat. He closed the gap until, when Sigrid was on her outward swing, her crotch came less than a foot from his face. He watched it close and then go away and she watched him watching her.
"Don't be afraid," she purred, gasping her words as she pumped. "It won't fall off if you use it one more time."
"I'm not so sure," he countered. "Christ will strike me dead, probably. I'm such an unfaithful bastard but, God help me, I've got to have more."
"Just a normal growing American boy. Go ahead, take charge, do what you wish. You know how cooperative I am when it comes to things like this."
Greg licked his lips. They were salty. He was sweating just from watching this great body sweat. The next time she pulled on the rings and her straining torso came to him, he wrapped his arms around her hips and struggled to keep from letting the springs pull her away. Sigrid let go of the rings and they thudded back into their wall pockets as she loomed over him.
She staggered, half losing her balance; then she fell forward while Greg was bent backward on his heels as he tumbled to the mat with Amazon Sigrid sprawling on top of him. He found himself half smothered under her great body and he snorted until he got air.
She lay quietly while he turned his head away from her sweating belly. He wasn't uncomfortable. In fact it was quite pleasant with the hot weight atop his bulk.
He turned his face back into her middle and discovered that his nose was buried in the depths of her navel.
She giggled as he snorted, and then she started to wiggle. He let her wiggle, half knowing what she was going to ask him to do. She hiked herself up several inches until she managed to get his face down into, her pubic hairs. She wormed some more until he grasped her hips.
"This is wrong," he snorted.
"Shit oh dear," she sighed. "When will you get over this Puritan ethic? I told you, you're only doing what comes naturally. You're not cheating on anybody. She'll love you for it when you show her some new bedroom tricks."
"But she wouldn't do it to me," he insisted.
"Please finish and then we'll get to darling Karen," she insisted. "I'll make you a deal about her, something that will help you get rid of the guilts. Okay?"
He did want to rid himself of guilt and he knew he was counting on Sigrid to mother him out of his depression. He was enough of a little boy to want to be dominated by a woman of her size and power.
He opened his mouth and bit down. He captured a little roll of fat just above her crotch and a small forest of ready hairs, hairs that were already damp for his invasion. They were a deep red in their dampness, exciting, soft, awaiting him and whatever he would bring to them.
Greg wiggled one more time and so did his Amazon. He found his mouth right under her cunt, a cunt that was damp and hot and already open for him, for her legs were spread widely. He at once thrust his tongue and she shuddered as its roughness raked over the side of a puffy pink hp. Jesus...
He was pleased and he smiled around his tongue. So he had the power to reduce this mighty sex machine, when he wanted to. He had the tools, he had what she needed, he could use his tongue like a sword into her vitals.
He thrust the tongue again and it raked the other lip. Again she shuddered and he felt the current turn on inside that power plant of a body. She was buzzing, tingling, vibrating as all systems went to go.
He pushed the tongue up into her, directly in the middle, and it raked both lips as it entered her. He curled it up and it found the little electric button that turned her power on full. She shuddered as though he'd punched her in the lower belly and she couldn't stop shuddering.
"You've found it," she gasped. "My magic place. See? You're learning things already."
He made one hollow sound from inside her crotch and then he went back to work. He wormed the tongue back and forth, and within minutes he knew he'd brought her to the brink of an orgasm. He wanted to join her.
Sigrid, in her womanly wisdom, must have sensed this because her hands began to grope between their bodies. She reached far down and he humped up, without losing his hold on her box. She found his crotch and her hands went around his prick as though she were clutching a baseball bat. She began to pump.
He pumped with his tongue and she used her fists as they grunted and struggled and sweated together, perfectly matched, working as a team. Then she was convulsing over his face, the walls of her box straining to suck his tongue into her, to pull it from its roots.
Greg began to come and, amazingly, it was as forceful and satisfying as any of his orgasms in that long day. He felt his penis swell and then explode in her hands. The jizz poured into her palm and then dripped into the mat below, soaking his thighs as it dripped heavily.
At last they were both spent and they fell apart, swearing, heaving, gasping and groaning as their almost continuous exercise began to take its toll. They were still for several minutes before he finally sat up.
Tm getting out of here, for good."
"Sure you are," she said with a smile as she looked up at him from flat on her back, her hands ;onked behind her head. "You're never going to want to do this again, are you?"
He licked his lips as he looked at that body. Still, he'd had enough and he nodded. "I'm going straight from now on. God, I'm so guilty. Karen would never..."
"I keep telling you, she would. She's a normal female, isn't she?"
"A hell of a lot more than normal."
"I have a plan, as they say in the mystery movies." Sigrid frowned for a long minute. "I told you I could rid you of the guilts. Do you still want to feel better about all this?"
He sighed. "I suppose so."
'You'll need to risk your saint's virginity. If I can get Karen to play around will you feel better about your own transgressions?"
He checked to see whether she was putting him on.
She wasn't. "Karen would never play around. That's final."
"I know somebody who can put the make on her...and make it work."
"Never."
"Yes, he has great power. He could seduce a statue."
Greg snorted. "Anybody can commit rape. Sure, if a bastard put a knife to Karen's throat and threatened to slit it, she'd probably have to give him some. After all, the will to live..."
"I'm talking about seduction."
He bit his lips. "And who is this miracle man?"
"My son...David."
Greg couldn't hold back his blurting laugh. "Christ, your kid? He's only a punk? How old."
"Seventeen."
"Sure, seventeen, thin, underweight. He hasn't begun to fill out. He's a twerp, if you don't mind my saying so. I'll bet he doesn't weigh 140 pounds."
He was chuckling at the obvious insanity of it all when she made her offer, and it sounded like a carefully considered plan.
"All right, but if David can seduce your loving wife-without force or threats-will you admit that she and you are mortal? Will you admit sex is good and that you might enjoy having more?"
"It's crazy. I'll admit nothing."
"But will you let my son test your wife?" She sat up and counted on her fingers. "He'll talk to her, but he'll wait for her to make the first move. She'll touch him first, or it's no ball game, okay? In addition, he'll seduce her in front of you and me, and in front of my daughter, too, if you like. Right in the front room, in front of God and everybody."
Greg stared, eyes wide, his mouth dry. "You mean this miracle boy can make my wife come to him, ask him for it, can make her just by...what, talking and looking?"
"Precisely."
"Now I'm positive you're all crazy in this apartment," he almost shouted as he got up to leave.
Sigrid spread her hands. "All right, bring her over when she gets home. Tell her it's a little party to meet the new neighbors, which is what it will be. But if it goes beyond that, if my son makes her lose control, will you let things take their course?" It s insane.
"Just for a drink and something to eat. Some chips and dip, you know."
"Why not?" he called over his shoulder. "But you're going to look mighty silly if your kid tries to get fresh. Why, Karen will whittle him down to a pool of melted butter. You'll find out what real virtue and loyalty is."
"I'd love to find out," Sigrid said sweetly as he almost ran from the room.
CHAPTER SIX
He showered again, for the third time that day, but he'd needed it. Never had he given himself so completely to any woman. He'd been drained as orgasm after orgasm had weakened his body. But, somehow, Greg felt good. His body was clean, his mind drained of many hang-ups that had been bothering him over the past several weeks.
He now knew for certain that he had no potency problem. Christ, how well he knew that! If the right woman drew him out, she could get as much as she needed from him. Even such a magnificent creature like Sigrid could almost satiate herself with him, but he admitted that no one man could give Sigrid everything she needed. She was too much woman for that.
Still, he felt fulfilled. She'd tested him thoroughly and shown him that he still wanted and needed total sex. She'd shown him that he could get as hot as any man and that if he were missing sexually at home it certainly wasn't all his own fault.
That was why he'd agreed to her crazy scheme. He owed Sigrid his thanks for drawing him out, even though he knew it had been morally wrong and nothing could change his mind about that. He'd been wrong to do it but he' was pleased that he'd acquitted himself so convincingly.
But he wouldn't do it again. No. He was through playing games with neighbor women, or with any women other than his wife. But he had a debt to Sigrid. If she had to be shown that there were human beings in the world who could not be led into sexual sin, then he'd permit his own Karen to show her.
He smiled as he dried himself after the biting shower. Yes, Karen would show that Amazon. She'd prove to that hunk of female that not everybody was as weak as Greg, and he knew that he was stronger than most. After all, this was his first-and last-straying from the fold since his marriage. Karen would be much more of a tough rock.
And Sigrid claimed that that puny son of hers could do the job. Indeed, it was her contention that little David could induce Karen to come after him, to seduce him. He laughed aloud as he looked down at himself. His cock was long and dangling, apparently spent Christ, it had earned itself a rest.
So Sigrid really thought her son had some magic that could make a sexual saint like Karen come to him, make her beg him to give it to her...and ail this right in front of the rest of the family and Greg himself. Impossible.
But the mere thought stirred something in Greg and again he looked down at himself as he walked into the bedroom. By sweet heaven his cock was coming to life.
There was a small tingle down there and the big knob began to lift. It didn't lift far, but far enough to prove that he wasn't dead. He frowned. Did thoughts of his wife battling seduction by a kid make him hot? God, maybe he was getting weird about sex. Maybe Sigrid had opened some dark doors in the back of his mind.
He dressed quickly' in a clean sport shirt and pants. Then he made himself coffee while waiting. He glanced up at the kitchen clock. Karen would be home from her shopping trip soon and then the test would begin. He toyed with the notion of letting her in on the secret, but he discarded it. After all, there was no chance that Karen would fall before that punk kid. No, she'd show Sigrid honestly that she was invulnerable to any man except her own husband.
Husband. So Sigrid had lost hers. Greg smiled. He could have been cruel and asked her how come she couldn't hold a man, but Greg didn't want to hurt his neighbor. After all, she'd given him. a great deal and, so long as he didn't go back to her another day for seconds, he supposed there would be no harm done. And, even though Sigrid had promised never to squeal on him, he couldn't afford to make an enemy of her. He thought about life as Sigrid's husband. Then he realized that she'd probably broken her husband's will, his spirit, his sexual capacity to handle her. She'd said that she'd socked him for plenty at the divorce settlement. Obviously the poor guy had been glad to get her off his back...literally.
Greg finished his coffee and washed the cup and the pot. He knew that Karen was terribly neat and he didn't want to leave anything about that would put her in a mood. He wanted her cooperation when she got home. Yes, he was going to use his own wife to teach that God-damned Amazon a lesson she'd never forget. Karen would teach her-without even realizing it-that sex wasn't everything for everybody, that some people had moral standards that didn't go beyond their own mates.
He went into the small living room and looked out toward the pool, the street and across to the beach and the ocean. It was a beautiful afternoon, one in which he would normally have gone to the beach or sunned himself at the pool. Instead he hadn't gotten out of that giant's apartment. He enjoyed being outdoors on Saturdays because he got so little sun and exercise during his weekdays in his law office.
It had been only that morning that he'd looked down and spotted Sigrid in the pool, but it had been she who had started things off by coming to him about her pilot light. He smiled. He'd lighted her pilot, all right. He'd set her on fire and he'd caught fire in the bargain. He then frowned again. But he had to admit that he didn't think she had come to him with the idea of putting the make on him.
No. She'd merely wanted his help and then, when she saw him getting all hot and bothered she'd decided to do something about it. Then she had been switched on and they were off to the races. So, it had been his fault, really that the whole affair had gotten started.
All right, so he'd use Karen to help end it all and he'd back up his wife's sound morality with a resolution of his own. He wasn't going to see Sigrid again, not to light her pilot or fix her plumbing or to put out a fire in her crotch. She'd need to find somebody else for that chore.
He blinked as he saw the VW coming up the street. It turned in and disappeared' under the large apartment house. He could imagine Karen working the repaired garage door easily as she put the car away. He knew she'd be pleased about that, but even so his palms were damp. After all, he and Sigrid had a secret which he wasn't going to share with his own wife. But there was a reason. He'd promised to submit his mate to a fair test...and he would.
He sat down and started reading the paper. In a few seconds the front door opened and Karen came bustling into the room, her arms loaded with packages.
"Hi, darling!" she exclaimed, her cheeks pink from her excitement. "How was your day?"
Greg glanced up casually, but he never could really look at his wife casually, even after three years of marriage. She was behind packages, except for her face and her legs. Her face was excited, her legs were exciting. God, but she was a slim and willowy woman, a stylish beauty that any man would want. Next to her Sigrid looked like a linebacker. He bit his lower lip. But she might play with, the Chicago Bears-one or two at a time-but never for them.
He watched Karen turn to the couch and begin to unload her parcels. As she leaned over he watched the mini stretch tightly across her bottom so that he could see the line of her pants underneath. He saw the backs of her thighs slide into view and they were so wonderful. Then she straightened and turned.
He looked at the front of her, at her waist, her surging breasts tightly packed in her bodice. He'd often wanted to suggest to Karen that she not wear a bra, but he knew she'd be shocked at such an idea. But he knew a bra only held her breasts in, not higher. They rode nicely without the need of a bra's support.
She was the perfect beauty queen with the measurements of a Miss America. Five seven, 120 pounds, soft blond hair that fell over one side of her face when she leaned over, blue eyes that could be warm or cold. She had the morals of the perfect Miss America, too. Bert Parks would be proud of her.
She tilted her head as he stared. He was still thinking of the line of her pants that showed through her miniskirt. "Hey, did you hear me? Your ever-lovin' wife's home."
"Huh?" Greg started and then he smiled. "How could I miss you? I was just admiring the merchandise."
Karen actually flushed. "I know. I've been thinking about our pre-dinner date all day. If you'll just give me a couple of minutes to get these things put away."
Again she turned her back on him and leaned over the packages on the couch. Again he looked at her panty line and the backs of her legs. His prick began to stir and there was an itch in his crotch.
"You thought about our date?" he repeated, feeling stupid. He wanted her to come out with it.
She looked over her shoulder and then she came to him, slipping into his lap easily and lightly. He thought about holding the Amazon in his lap and the picture boggled his mind. "Of course I thought about it. I even hurried home especially to give us plenty of time. I can feel that little worm inside me. It's itching to get out." She sighed and kissed him lightly on the mouth, her soft breast stabbing his chest. He liked that. "The little worm hasn't itched much lately...but today he is."
"Karen.. . "
"So" she interrupted. "First I've got to put some things away. I bought that dress, and another one. I'm going to hang them up before they wrinkle. I also got you three pair of undershorts but I couldn't find the right saw blade size. I'm sorry, honey."
"That's all right," he replied, keeping his voice calm. Christ, the prospect of the party was getting to him. He wanted to call it off and fuck his wife instead. "I'll pick one up on my lunch hour Monday."
He watched her run out of the room a couple of times as she put things away. He nodded as she displayed his shorts. At last she was finished and she emerged from the kitchen.
"I see you made some coffee. Want to join me in a cup?" she said, her voice light. He could tell she was on edge, too, that she was anxious that their little "date" go well. They'd failed one another so much lately.
He shook his head. "Forget the coffee. I've got something to tell you."
"My, we are in a rush." She came to him and sat down on the couch, her body against his. He could feel her slight trembling. The poor kid had lost her confidence and it was especially apparent now that he'd regained his. He knew he could stick his prick into a knothole and go off, if he chose. He could go off just by thinking about sex, if he really tried. He was a loaded sixteen-year-old all over again. Thanks to Sigrid.
Again she leaned across him and kissed him on the lips, this time with more warmth. The stab of her breast was more sharp, as though her breasts were beginning to fill with passion, becoming larger, more firm, their nipples beginning to poke against her bodice.
She leaned away and linked her fingers in his, toying with his hand as she held it in her lap. He could have turned his hand over, groped it straight into her box and watched her jump with surprise. But he would never do that. He looked then at her naked thighs-she never wore stockings in the summer, she didn't need to with her smooth, tanned legs. He looked at the high hemline as her dress hiked up almost to her crotch. She wore minis to please him, because he'd convinced her it was a crime to hide those legs. Then he looked where the dress was right across her crotch. The "Y" was apparent and the delicate mound was inviting.
But Greg blew out his cheeks and held off. Did he want to screw her right now and to hell with Sigrid? No, he'd given his word to his neighbor and he owed her his honesty. And, when the brief fiasco was ended he and Karen would come back here more steamed up than ever by the frustrating delay. They'd have a good laugh about the groping tactics of the Taylor kid and then they'd hop into bed for a long, sweet bang.
"Karen..
"All right," she giggled. "If you insist. I just thought you'd want to talk for a while." She gripped his hand more tightly. "Let's go."
"No, I do want to talk." He licked his lips. "I met our neighbor today. The woman next door, the one who moved in last week."
Karen kept her hold on his hand, but it wasn't quite so tight. She smiled up into his face, all innocence, never dreaming that he was hiding anything. "Oh, Mrs. Taylor, is that her name? I'm afraid I haven't been a very good neighbor. I should have gotten my fanny over there to see her and her children. I think she has a son and daughter. That's what the landlord told me."
"I think so," Greg continued. "Anyhow, she caught me in the garage..."
"The door works wonderfully, dear. You should have been a mechanic instead of a lawyer." She giggled. Of course, she was proud to be married to a professional man. She was that sort of a woman. She wanted her husband to wear a necktie to work, to have an office, a secretary, standing in the community.
"Anyhow," he continued, breaking in on her. "She got me to come into her place and light the pilot in her water heater. Well, we talked and she said she was glad to have such friendly and handy neighbors. When I left she asked us-you and me-to come over for a drink before dinner. I think she wants us to meet her kids, too."
He'd spilled it out beautifully, he knew. It all sounded so innocent, so natural, so casual. Come over and meet the nice lady and her beautiful children.
"Well, isn't that nice?" Karen said at once, obviously touched by the invitation. "Now I do feel guilty, We should have had her...them here first." She stuck out her lower hp. "She was talking about today, now?"
Greg nodded.
"There goes our party."
He sighed.
She squeezed his hand. "Until later, anyhow. We just won't stay too long."
"Precisely what I had in mind." He leaned down and she raised her face for his kiss.
She broke the kiss. "Goodness, I must be a mess. I'll need to change."
"Nonsense. It's no big deal. Believe me, after what I saw, she won't be in any floor-length hostess gown." He tried to keep his voice light
But Karen teased him, her eyebrows raised suspiciously. "Oh, and what did my big, handsome, capable pilot lighter see?"
As she got up he slapped her on the fanny. "Get in there and do what you have to do, but be quick about it. I want this party to be over in a hell of a hurry."
She laughed as she left the room, twisting to look over her shoulder. Again he could see the line of her pants and he cursed the party. Hell, they could make it good together, right now. It was the right moment. He followed Karen into the bedroom.
He lounged in the doorway as she sat at her dressing table, fussing with her hair. She used very little makeup. She looked better without it, so she only touched up her lips. He liked her blond hair natural, too, and she didn't put anything on it, except a brush every morning and every night
He looked at the curve of her back and the proud tilt of her buttocks as she sat up straight at her stool. Then he came over to her and touched her shoulders.
"Hey, let's forget that party," he muttered.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She reached up to grasp his hands as she twisted her body. She smiled up into his face. "You know we can't do that. I've already been rude to the lady. Besides, as you said, we'll be more anxious than ever when it's over. Come on, we have a neighborly duty to perform."
"Meeting a divorcee who's built like a running guard and pretending to enjoy meeting her two brats." He growled the words, sorry he'd made the bargain with Sigrid. Still, Karen was right. They'd have a hell of an appetite, especially after they'd had a drink or two.
She laughed as she put down her brush and got up. She got up on her toes and kissed him lightly. He began to wrap his arms around her waist, but she pushed him away.
"Don't muss me." Then she took his hand and pressed it against her left buttock. "Come on, let's go."
He followed her out of the bedroom and they went straight to the door. There she paused, sucking her lower hp in a habit he found erotic, although he never admitted it to his wife. "I suppose dinner will be late. I don't dare put anything on."
"We're having sex for dinner, remember?"
"All right, schoolboy." She tilted her head as her green eyes looked up at him. "You seem different, honey. Sort of keyed up, anxious. I haven't seen you like this since right after the honeymoon."
"Second childhood."
She giggled. "It's beginning to infect me. Come on, let's do our duty and get it over with." Again she frowned. "Just a second."
She ran into the bedroom and then she emerged with a small package. "I just got this today. A little cologne from Paris. Think it's okay as a welcoming gift?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"I don't have anything for the children."
"Screw the children," he grumbled. "The girl can share the cologne and the boy...well, he's getting his kicks on pot or something, probably. Don't worry about it."
She smiled. "All right, let's go."
They stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. Even though it was almost six the summer sun was still warm and bright. He was pleased about that. Sunlight was more wholesome than moonlight for the test that was coming up. They hurried along the outside corridor to the door of 5-B.
He paused and glanced down into her beautiful face, that innocent, moral and yet exciting face. A face that belonged to him alone...and the body that went with it. He was almost sad to be testing her this way. He felt disloyal, but he knew she'd pass anyhow. She'd pass without ever knowing she'd passed and the Taylor family would have failed. It would give him an edge over Sigrid if she ever came to him again. "Ready?"
She giggled. "Of course, you silly goose. Ring the bell."
He did so and a moment later the door opened. They looked down at one of the children, the girl. She looked about fifteen, and she was small but budding. She wore what might have been a boy's shirt and tight jeans, but they were neat and clean. She had rusty hair somewhat like her mother's and the green eyes were there, too. But they were innocent eyes. The rest of her was frail and willowy, but with a certain adolescent beauty that would improve as the months passed, Greg knew.
"Hi," she said, her voice surprisingly low and shy. He almost shook his head. She was a long way from being like her mother. There was none of the bigness about her, although she looked wiry and the height would probably come over the next three years.
"Hello," Karen said, her voice sweet. "We're Mr. and Mrs. Eastman. From next door?"
The child nodded. "I know. Mother said you were coming. Please come inside." The kid was polite; Greg gave her that much.
She stepped aside and they entered the parlor of the apartment Greg had come to know so well that morning. He sniffed, almost expecting to smell lingering sex. But the place was neat, clean and fresh. Sigrid and her family had been busy the last couple of hours.
They were standing in the middle of the room when Sigrid came hurrying in. She was smiling and touching her hair self-consciously, like any normal hostess, but Greg knew she was putting on an act. Nervous this broad was not. She was plenty sure of herself-and her family.
She looked like something bigger than life, a terrific panorama of a woman. There was so much of her and it was all so perfectly put together. like a Mount Rush-more shrine, huge and handsome at the same time.
Sigrid wore a stretch outfit, light in color, and it brought out every curve in her body. Greg was impressed all over again. She made a woman like Karen pale before her. Then he looked at his wife. No, Karen stacked up all right. They were simply different types.
Sigrid was packed into a stretch jersey sort of blouse that emphasized her breasts and her thin waist. Her hips and legs were packed into stretch pants that went to her ankles. She wore sandals from which red toenails protruded. There was nothing that was missing. The pants hugged her thighs and her hips. She couldn't have been wearing pants or the line would have showed. The pants were tight into her crotch so that he could make out her mound easily. Above he could see the outline of her nipples.
If she were trying to put Karen down with such a sexy outfit, she was failing, Greg knew. She looked cheap...or was it only that he wanted her to look cheap? He glanced at Karen and she was smiling her genuine smile, apparently honestly impressed and not at all shocked. He watched her eyes flick up and down over Sigrid's great body and he could see only honest admiration in their blue depths. Well, women admired other beautiful women. That was a fact
In fact, Sigrid was doing the same with Karen. He could see envy in those green eyes for that willowy body, those slim legs, that fashion model's figure that she could never manage. They were the fullback and the fleet split end, each gorgeous in her own way. Neither could ever be like the other, but they were equally valuable members of the team.
"Welcome, welcome," Sigrid was exclaiming. "Welcome to Chez Taylor." She laughed at her bad French.
Greg heard himself stammering out the introductions as the two women said the right things to one another. Sigrid was gesturing toward her daughter. "I suppose you've met my little Diana, the huntress. Isn't she a handsome child? Pardon me if I seem to brag, but I'm proud of my children." She looked a bit sad. "They're the only sound dividends from my marriage."
At once Karen was sad, too. She was like that, always putting herself in someone else's shoes, terribly sensitive to the pains of others. She nodded. "She's a beautiful child, just like her mother."
Diana looked uncomfortable, but she was a pretty little thing. Perhaps strong, too, Greg decided. Her small muscles looked tight and fit and breasts were budding in a delightfully adolescent and fresh fashion under that shirt. Her hips were still slim but they'd mature soon enough. Her legs, packed into the jeans, looked sturdy enough. Yes, she had strength, thanks to the Taylor gymnasium in the next room. He could imagine the whole family in there for an hour every morning.
Karen handed over the little package of cologne and Sigrid was delighted. She exclaimed over it, opened the bottle and both she and Diana touched some to their wrists and ears. Then Sigrid turned to her daughter.
"Call David, would you, darling?" As Diana left the room her mother turned to her guests. "Now, what can I get you to drink?" She gestured toward a coffee table. "I have a few snacks, so choose your poison to match, if you wish."
"Oh," Karen said, lifting her hand. "I really don't drink. Perhaps just a Coke, if you have one."
Sigrid wrinkled her nose. "Coke. How about something with just a little stick in it?".
Karen glanced apologetically at Greg. "Well, if it's very light. Promise."
"I promise." She smiled into Greg's face, her look bland and friendly, as though nothing had happened between them. Their eyes were at the same level, two six-footers eyeball to eyeball. "And you, Greg? May I call you Greg? I feel we're friends already. The water heats beautifully."
"Terrific," Greg replied, a hint of irony in his tone. "I'll take anything you've got to offer." The double meaning slipped out without his noticing but he saw the look in Sigrid's eyes. He flushed.
"Come on, I'll need help in the kitchen," Sigrid said to him. "Karen, please sit down. The children will be back in a moment." Then she called as Greg followed her out. "David, Diana, get in here."
In the kitchen he found bottles and mix. He made a small one for Karen, moderate drinks for himself and Sigrid. For the children he poured out straight cola, at their mother's direction.
As they worked he muttered, "We won't be staying long. This is crazy and...we have things to do at home."
"I noticed, lover," Sigrid purred, standing close to his shoulder. He could feel a heavy warm breast at the back of his arm.
"You noticed what?"
"The look in your eyes; her eyes, too. I dare say you have plans to jump into the sack." She widened her green dyes in admiration. 'You're an iron man, I'll say that for you."
Greg was pleased at the compliment, but he could never allow her to see that. "You're crazy. Karen would never tip her hand about such a thing."
"Bullshit. I can tell by the way she talks, the way she moves. She's got a twitch in her twat. A woman can see these things if she's a student of sex, like I am." She giggled. "This will make her all the easier a mark for David."
He sighed. "I think we'd better drop that little game, don't you? If you-or your brat kid-shock Karen you'll lose a neighbor. It could be pretty embarrassing."
Sigrid extended her hands in innocence. "I told you, it's up to Karen. She's going to be the aggressor, as I said. David will merely be his own sweet self. She's going to put the make on him. She's going to touch him first."
'You are mad."
She giggled again, the sound surprisingly light from such a husky throat. "We'll see in the next hour, lover. Meanwhile, I keep my end of the bargain. I'll never tell your wife about us, unless she decides to join in the fun-which she will. Then we'll all be very friendly."
He blew out his cheeks. "AH right, let's get it over with, but I hope you coached the kid carefully. If he gets out of line I'll.. . "
"Don't worry." She held up a hand. "You can leave whenever you-and or Karen-decide you want to. I have a hunch she's eager to enjoy some fun and you're going to get a kick out of a front row seat."
He placed the glasses on a tray. "And this is all going to happen right before our eyes, no tricks."
"Nothing up my sleeve," she assured him. "Believe me, our act has been a smash hit coast to coast."
They returned to the living room just as the children entered from the bedroom hallway. Again Sigrid was introducing them and Greg sized up David. He was a nothing, as he'd seen from a distance earlier. He couldn't have weighed more than 140, and he was even thinner looking because of his height. He was almost six feet and about seventeen. His straight and narrow body was topped by very light sun-bleached hair. His face, thin and adolescent, was tanned so that the blue eyes seemed especially light.
Greg could imagine the kid surfing on his board, his bartered chopped-down jean trunks barely clinging to his angular hips as he waited on his knees for the big one to roll in from the sea. But he was anything but a handsome figure now. He was a scarecrow in tight jeans and a shirt. He was dressed exactly like his sister.
Greg looked down at the boy's crotch as they were still muttering introductions. There was a modest bulge there, but nothing out of the ordinary. At least Sigrid didn't put her kid in stretch pants so that Karen would get an eyeful right off the bat. She was playing the game fair-so far.
At last they all sat down. It turned out that Greg was in the middle of the couch with Sigrid on one side of him and Diana on the other. Mother and daughter made handsome couch companions, he had to admit. Across the room Karen and David sat in separate chairs with the low coffee table between them. Again Sigrid was playing their test game fair. She could have packed Karen and her son tightly on the couch, but she'd left plenty of air between them.
They all sat back and began to make small talk. Karen told Sigrid about her all-day shopping trip and Sigrid told Karen she'd spent the day cleaning house. She glanced at Greg from time to time as she spoke, but she gave nothing away. She was a cool customer, he realized once again.
As they spoke gradually separate conversations developed. The people on the couch together and Karen chatting with David. It seemed natural enough because of the seating arrangements. Eventually the people on the couch drifted into silence, although Greg was aware of the nearness of both women. He could hear Diana's light breathing, and occasionally her elbow or her knee would bump against him, but he couldn't say for certain that she was flirting.
At his other side Sigrid was discreet and every bit the polite hostess. She didn't press anything against him, except the occasional thigh when she leaned far forward to reach for a nibbler from the coffee table. I
Ten feet away sat Karen and David, chatting amiably across the coffee table. It was impossible, Greg knew. Sigrid was going to lose. How could Karen be turned on by this punk? Especially in a crowded room and with a coffee table between them.
Sigrid was still reading his thoughts for she murmured, a polite smile on her lips. "You'll find out. Just watch. Just be willing to believe your eyes...and ears."
Greg stared at her and then he turned to Diana, who also smiled sweetly. "Mother is always right. She's taught us that in the bedroom and in our gymnasium. We have a lot of strength in our family. She's given Us a lot of hers."
He turned his attention to his wife and the boy. He was listening politely as Karen told him about her shopping trip that day. He should have been bored-for it was a boring story for any normal boy-but he seemed terribly interested. He sat coolly, hands on his knees, his clothing neat and clean, his posture erect, his eyes bright, his head at an attentive angle.
Then Karen caught herself and she flushed. The others, including Greg, were listening now, their own couch i conversation forgotten.
"I'm afraid you don't care about a woman's shopping trip," Karen was exclaiming. "I'm sorry. Tell me about school."
"No," David said, spreading his hands. "I like hearing you talk. Please keep going. Tell me what else you brought home."
Greg saw Karen flush with pleasure. The kid was flattering her. "Well, I did get some undershorts for my husband."
The boy licked his lips. "Undershorts? Tell me, Mrs. Eastman, were they jockey or boxer style?"
Karen flushed again and looked at Greg. Her blue eyes were dancing strangely.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Greg caught a tug of warning pulling in his belly, but he dismissed it at once. He smiled. It was ridiculous. Of course Karen was enjoying herself. She enjoyed being with people and they didn't have too many friends in the city thus far. So the kid was charming her. Why not? A baby wrapped in a blanket could charm her, too.
He glanced at Sigrid and the big redhead smiled at him, Her eyebrows were raised as though they were saying, I told you so. Greg shook his head and muttered, "No way, lady."
The boy's mother merely shrugged, not bothering to defend her position. "We'll see."
He turned away, looking down at Diana at his other side. She was a cute kid, he decided. Neat, clean, very trim. Small as she appeared he had a feeling that she was in excellent condition, thanks to the family gymnasium. He wanted to touch her arm and her thigh to find out how hard she was, but he didn't dare lay a hand on the child.
He looked at David again and watched the boy as he chatted with Karen. He was stronger than he seemed, as well. Much stronger. He could see that while his body seemed slim and not yet filled out to manhood, what there was of him was very tough. Greg could imagine the lad running ten miles without tiring. And perhaps doing many other things with the stamina of a much heavier man.
Even so, Greg knew Karen. He knew his wife had tough qualities, too. Moral fiber could stand up against physical strength any day in the week. So he leaned back and relaxed, listening to their ongoing conversation.
Karen was shaking her head. "Do you really care what style underwear my husband wears?" Her voice was light, as though she were an adult patronizing a child, which was really the fact of the matter, Greg realized.
David shrugged his thin shoulders. "Not really. I'm sort of wondering why he wears the things in the first place. They're really not necessary, you understand."
Greg felt himself leaning forward and the women on either side of him were also intent. It was as though they were watching a race for high stakes. Greg felt a dampness in his armpits.
Karen was frowning as she sipped at her drink. She really didn't drink, but she merely held a glass at most parties and sipped politely. She never had more than one. Two would make her head reel. Greg turned to Sigrid.
"No fair spiking her glass. That's out of bounds."
The Amazon smiled without taking her eyes off the contestants. "He won't need to get her drunk. You can take her glass away, if you wish."
"Really not necessary?" Karen was saying.
"Heck, no," the boy blurted. "I never wear them. Most of the kids I run around with don't bother."
"That's not very sanitary," Karen countered. "I mean your clothes could get.. . "
David had fixed his stare on her. "Could get what?"
"Well, soiled."
"Soiled by what?"
Her voice trembled and Greg felt his prick stir. What the hell was it getting up for, he wondered. "You know."
"No. You'll have to say it."
Karen pressed her lips together. "I think it's time we talked about something else." She looked at the others, but they-including Greg-were all mute. So she turned back to the boy. "So you don't want to tell me about school."
"It's summer vacation." He half smiled. "You know what?"
"No, what?" she said lightly, apparently pleased that they were getting on some other subject. But she was wrong.
"Diana doesn't wear underwear, either." He laughed as he looked at Sigrid. "Neither does my mother, most of the time."
"David," his mother chided, but it was a gentle chide, as though she were proud of her son.
"like now, when she's got that tight stretch outfit on she doesn't have anything underneath-top or bottom. She says" they would show and they would only cramp her style. She's so strong she's always breaking something."
Karen was turning toward Greg for support, but there was nothing he could do. She'd need to get herself out of the embarrassing situation. He couldn't help her by ganging up on the lad. She'd be able to handle him anyhow and he half smiled, wondering how she would do it.
But David was still doing the talking. "Mrs. Eastman?"
"Yes, David." She was being very light and polite, but Greg could sense the slight tremor in her voice. "How come you wear them?"
"What?" Karen's voice half broke and her hand went instinctively to her thigh, as though she were protecting her body under the panties.
The teen-ager plunged on, his voice and face bland. Greg had to admit Sigrid was holding to her word. He wasn't being aggressive-except in conversation. Even then, his tone was mild, not really suggestive. It was only when he really listened to the words.
"How come you wear pants under your dress?" David was saying and Greg's eyes were wider. He could feel the growing bulge between his legs. He wondered why the scene was exciting him. After all, nothing was happening and nothing was going to happen. Even if it did, he'd hardly get worked up watching his own wife being seduced. That would be sick. Or would it?
Karen was flushing now, the color coming up out of her dress so that her throat and then her cheeks were pink. She crossed her legs protectively and tugged hard on her skirt. Even so, a hell of a lot of thigh was showing. "What makes you think...? I mean, of course I wear pants. I told you, it's the lady-like thing to do." She turned quickly to Sigrid with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I mean for you, you understand. This has nothing to do with your personal habits, Sigrid, or those of Diana..."
Sigrid nodded slowly, half smiling, her attitude gracious, as though she understood: different strokes for different folks.
"I don't wear them," David was saying. "My mother doesn't and Diana doesn't. We seem to get along. How come you wear them?"
Karen drew herself up with a deep breath and Greg saw the boy's eyes drop to her breasts. Karen tried being playful, trying to regain the offensive...if, indeed, she'd ever had it in the first place. "Well, my young Mr. Taylor, what makes you think I do wear pants? I never said as much."
"I could see the line on your skirt when you leaned over to sit down. That's a very tight skirt, Mrs. Eastman. A fellow could see just like that"-he snapped his fingers-"if you had anything on. You have. I can see the tight panty line, like we call it at school."
Greg, of course, knew exactly what the boy was talking about. He'd already noticed the line against the tight skirt a couple of times. But Karen continued to be puzzled, to be flustered. She was losing. "Tight panty fine?"
David giggled, suddenly a blushing young boy. "I know it sounds funny. I guess it's an inside joke we have at school. You know, when we watch girls in the halls."
Karen licked her lips, again turning to smile at the r others. Then she confronted the boy again. Greg gave her credit for not being a quitter. But her breathing had changed and her breasts rose and fell faster. She was getting angry...or something. It was more than simple anger.
"Does it really bother you?" she snapped.
David shrugged his thin shoulder. "Not really. You were the one who wanted to talk about underwear."
"David!" Sigrid said sharply. "Don't be impolite."
Greg turned to the boy's mother. She was being totally fair about the whole thing. David looked apologetic.
"I'm sorry. But if you want to be uncomfortable in pants, that's up to you." He sucked on his lower hp for a moment as Karen looked even more uncomfortable. Then he said: "I guess maybe you're sort of damp down there once in a while, huh? You need the protection."
At this point Greg would have bet his job and car that Karen would have jumped up and marched out of the room with Greg right behind her. He gripped his knees, ready to rise. But Diana placed her hand on the back of his and patted him as though to tell him to relax and sit back. She was right. Karen didn't jump up. She didn't move. She sat and stared, like a rabbit transfixed by the bright light of a night hunter. She simply stared into the lens.
I She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. She licked her lips and wiped her damp' hands together. Greg could see them shining. There was also perspiration on her upper lip. Her breasts jumped up and down even faster but she kept her knees crossed, her body protected instinctively.
She didn't lash out at the boy. She didn't tell him he was being much too familiar and insulting. Instead she said, still trying to be coy and above it all: "I don't have any more problems than anyone else."
David nodded like a wise little man. "Well, nobody could ever accuse you of being a broad, Mrs. Eastman. You have swell hips, not an inch too wide."
Karen's flush deepened at this unexpected praise. "Why, thank you, David."
Greg had to bite his tongue. Christ, didn't she see? The kid was working his way into an intimate conversation like a master, flattering his way into a discussion of her very private areas. He shook his head when he saw Sigrid turning to smile at him.
"You know what I would do?" he continued, his voice rather high. He might have been getting excited, but his squeaky voice was the only sign.
Karen sighed as though she knew she was having trouble escaping and that things would get worse. Shit, Greg thought, the kid's talk can't hurt her. That's a long way from seduction. "What would you do?" Karen asked.
"First chance I got I'd sneak out of the room and take off my pants, if I was you. No use you being all bound up. Besides, pants sort of turn people off. Just the thought of them being a sort of buffer. You know, what could happen by accident when a girl...a woman, is wearing pants?"
Karen cleared her throat again and coughed lightly into her fist. She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them. Greg could hear the smooth flesh of her thighs hiss together.
"I definitely think we should change the subject," she stammered.
David spread his thin hands. "Okay. Tell me, Mrs. Eastman, do you usually have an orgasm when you're in bed with a man?"
Karen's jaw dropped open, as did Greg's. He turned his head to Sigrid and then to Diana, but they merely smiled at him. Sigrid murmured, "We have a deal. He'll wait for her to make the first move. Meanwhile, he can say anything he-likes."
"Talk," he muttered. "That's all there will be. She'll walk out of here in ten seconds."
But Karen didn't walk out. Instead she closed her mouth, except to lick her lips as she gulped. "I...I really don't think that's any of your business, young man." Why the hell didn't she slap him and walk out? Greg kept asking himself. Meanwhile, his prick was growing in his crotch. It was coming up to full size and he wasn't at all certain why.
Greg was amazed when Karen decided to answer his question. "Well...I do some of the time. Some times I don't. It's sort of hit and miss, I guess."
"You guess?" David was like a prosecuting attorney.
"All right, sometimes yes, other times, no." Her eyes blazed. "Do you really need to know everything?"
"Tell me, are you tight?"
"Now you listen here!" Karen blurted and she half stood, her head bobbing toward the others. "What sort of a show is this?"
The boy shrugged again, still as calm as ever while Karen continued to lose control. Her hands were shaking as she sat down again, gripping her knees. "Don't tell me anything you don't want to," he said simply.
"Thank you very much," she hissed. There was nothing but the sound of her breathing for a full minute. Then she spoke. "I dare say I am."
"You're what?" the boy countered.
"What you asked me."
"You tell me."
"All right, I'm tight." She blew out her cheeks. "At least I think I am, according to what I've seen and heard about other women. We do get together at the office and talk, you know."
"I figured you did." He smiled. "Are you proud of being tight? Do you think it makes you a better shack-up?"
His words continued to stun Greg, but Karen seemed to be getting accustomed to them, as though it couldn't get any worse and she were getting numb. "I'd rather be tight than loose, if you must know."
"I don't have to know anything, Mrs. Eastman. I'm just making conversation."
"Making her, he means," Diana whispered from Greg's side.
Greg could sit still no longer. He had to do something to break up this thing. So he stood. "Sigrid, you haven't shown Karen the family gymnasium. How about a quick tour?"
Everybody rose. "Good idea," Sigrid replied. "Come along Diana, David, we'll all go in and show our guests the equipment."
At that moment it was Karen who stunned Greg when she said, her voice shy and half broken, "If you'll excuse me, I've got to go wash my hands."
Greg waited while she was gone and so did the others. Greg wanted to watch when she came out of the bathroom and, it seemed, the others did, too.
CHAPTER NINE
They were all standing in the same places when Karen returned a moment later. She smiled vaguely at Greg, went to him and pecked him on the cheek. Then she turned to the others, her manner strange. She looked as though she knew in her heart she was on trial, but she was struggling to behave as though nothing were happening. As though she would be eternally innocent.
Sigrid led the way with Karen right behind her. After her came Diana and then David and Greg. The two males walked side by side, but they did not speak. Greg didn't trust himself to say a word. Even if the circumstances had been different, the kid came off as being so unreal that Greg wouldn't have known how to approach him.
Greg kept his eyes partially lowered. He was watching Karen's bottom, his gaze fixed on her skirt. In the gymnasium Sigrid turned on the bright lights and they looked around at the exercise bicycle, the wall rings, the bar bells and all of the other equipment.
"My, this is beautiful," Karen exclaimed, twirling. Her golden hair flew. "I'd love to try something."
"Try anything you'd like," David muttered and Karen stopped to look at the boy, the smile half frozen on her face. Then she turned away and leaned over to look at the bar bells on the padded floor, her hands resting on her knees.
Greg saw it at once and he turned toward David. Yes, the boy saw, too. The tight panty line was gone. Karen had removed her pants while she'd been washing her hands. Greg's cock strained against his fly and he damned it. Christ, they'd all see. He kept a hand in his pocket.
Just the thought of her being bare under that very short skirt was driving him wild. He noticed that David was more cool than he. But, Jesus, her twat just a few inches under that brief hemline. And her bare bottom. He wanted to reach in there, but that would have to wait until they were home. Home. Yes, it was time. Screw this game.
He cleared his throat. "Honey, I think we'd better get back next door. It's time you got dinner on, isn't it?"
Karen straightened and she looked at David as she answered. "Yes, I suppose you're right. We've seen everything."
"I haven't," David, his eyes twinkling, murmured. He said it straight at Karen, his manner extremely personal intimate.
It was Karen's turn to clear her throat. "Well, perhaps it would be rude, darling. It doesn't matter what time we have dinner, does it?"
All at once Greg agreed with her. He didn't want the party to be over. Some incredible things were going to happen-he hoped-and he didn't want to pass them up. He smiled and nodded toward Sigrid. "So long as we don't overstay our hostess' welcome."
He knew the answer to that before Sigrid merely smiled and shook her head.
"Goody," Diana said, clapping her hands like the child she was. "We can have so much fun."
"You might like to try the bicycle," David said, as he gestured toward the contraption.
Karen went to it at once and she gingerly climbed up on the seat. When she put her feet on the pedals her skirt rode dangerously high. It was up almost to her crotch and, Greg was certain, if one stood at a certain angle in front of her one could see up to her cunt itself.
Of course it was David who made the move as Karen began to slowly pump the pedals. He moved in front of her and half leaned down, his hands on his knees, as though he were gauging the correctness of her exercising posture. "That's very good, Mrs. Eastman," he said with a certain awe in his voice. "Real real good. You've got something beautiful going for you right there."
Of course Karen knew what he was talking about She flushed, but it was a pleased embarrassment and she made no effort to put her feet back on the floor. So long as she was pumping there was no way for her to keep her knees closer together. So she was exposed to him, Greg knew. He could see all the way up.
He studied the boy's face, his attitude was one of rage and passion. He was turned on that Karen could turn on another male so quickly. This made his hard-on remain as hard as ever. He knew he wanted her for himself, but the thought of his gorgeous, mature, intelligent wife with this punk...well, he found it something weirdly stimulating.
Karen continued her pumping and, as she worked, her upper thighs were brushing together. Greg knew what this would accomplish. She'd start getting hotter. She had been known to get herself worked up merely from walking on a warm day. Her brushing flesh was like two sticks being rubbed together. Eventually a fire would result.
Karen seemed to sense this, for she stopped pumping.
"What's the matter?" David asked as they stood around her watching.
She shrugged and Greg saw her breasts bob loosely. Ah. So she'd done more than remove her pants. The bra was gone, too. There was nothing over her body except the skimpy dress with the low neckline-cut square across her front-and the very high skirt.
Sigrid saw the bob, also, and she smirked at Greg. He tried to ignore her look.
Meanwhile David was moving to Karen's side. He reached for her and placed his hands on her waist as though to steady her. "Don't stop. It's good for you."
Karen began to pump again, and the boy moved his hands to her knees, again as though to correct the posture of her legs. He slid his hands up her thighs, high up, almost up to where they disappeared under her skirt. He could have merely flicked his finger and flipped the skirt up over her pussy.
Greg frowned at Sigrid. "You said she'd touch him first. This is dirty pool."
Sigrid's voice lashed out. "David. No touching. You must leave Mrs. Eastman to...um, exercise as she pleases. If she wants help, she'll ask." The Amazon looked at Greg. "Okay, partner?"
David removed his hands sheepishly, as though he'd forgotten the rules. Undoubtedly he had, for Greg was certain that Sigrid had told him everything and had coached him.
Karen scrambled from the bicycle, her face flushed, and Greg knew it was more than the physical exercise. She hadn't pumped that hard. She went about the room, bouncing lightly on the mat, her breasts leaping almost out over the top of her bodice. She half laughed at the others.
"In high school I was good at standing on my head."
"Go ahead, try," David urged.
Karen licked her lips as she kicked off her shoes. Then she leaned down and carefully tucked the short skirt between her legs, pressing her thighs together so that the skirt was tucked tightly against her body. Then she went to the middle of the room, got down on her knees and looked up again.
The attitude of primitive supplication almost drove Greg to an orgasm. Seeing his wife on her knees in front of that kid, it was unreal, weird, animal-like. He couldn't explain it, except that perhaps he himself had some strange sexual quirk being unlocked inside his own body.
Karen responded to David's urging as she leaned far down, put her forehead on the mat and, in a surprisingly light and quick kick, lifted her body straight up toward the ceiling. She kept her knees together and the miniskirt did not sag away. She revealed nothing there.
It was the breasts which would be giving his wife trouble, Greg realized as they came down toward her throat, about to ooze out of the square-cut bodice. He licked his lips and glanced at the others. They were wide-eyed, their mouths open, sweat on their foreheads. They loved it all, too. Greg wasn't the only weird one.
He followed their stares back to the smooth, tanned flesh that was trying to escape Karen's bodice. Another inch or two and her nipples would be in full view. They would bob out completely. Although she seemed to be doing a fine and easy job of standing on her head, Karen called out.
"Somebody better hold me! David?" Her voice was half breaking, but Greg believed her excitement was something other than a fear of falling.
"Okay, where?" David snapped at once, leaning down to peer into her upside down face. Her eyes, twin pools of blue, blinked up at the lad.
"My waist. Get my hips."
He spread his legs over her so that her head was almost between his feet and their bodies faced one another. Karen could look up straight into his spread crotch and see his distended pouch. Greg certainly could see it and the kid was hung like a steer. Greg would have been wary of matching cock size with the teen-ager.
"All right?" David muttered and he was practically panting. So was Karen. Her body trembled.
"You'd better get me higher," she urged.
He slipped his hands to her upper thighs, gripping her where her skirt met her naked flesh. "like this?"
"Maybe at my knees, David. You know what to do."
"I sure do."
He grasped her knees and hung on. Greg later had to admit that it wasn't David's strength that did it, but Karen's own will and desire. In any event, her knees began to drift apart and, when they were two inches from one another the miniskirt suddenly untucked itself from between them and plunged all the way down to her waist
There were two or three stifled gasps in the room for, of course, she was naked. They all gazed at her creamy thighs, her perfect hips, the wonderful blond nest between her legs. The hairs were bright and shiny, for they were moist from her excitement.
Sigrid tore her eyes from the sight and turned to Greg. "Well, who wins the bet?"
"His hands are on her...first" Greg replied in a lame and defensive voice.
"Of course. She asked him to put them there."
Karen was wobbling as David removed his hands. He'd heard the conversation and, apparently, he didn't want to be accused of cheating. Karen cried out again for his help and he dropped to his knees in front of her, his legs only a few inches from her upside down face.
He gripped her shoulders and, as he did so, her breasts slid out of the reversed bodice. They came down almost to her chin and David moved his hands from her shoulders to her breasts. He planted a palm over each burgeoning mound and they heard Karen's moan of total pleasure. At her crotch her hairs seemed to shine more, and Greg realized her secretions were increasing. She was close to an orgasm.
He had to do something. "Get your hands off her!" Greg snapped and David at once did as he was told.
An instant later the shuddering Karen lost her balance and she came tumbling down. As she fell her skirt flipped back over her crotch and her breasts, braless, slipped back inside her bodice. A strategic shaking of her shoulders helped the process along.
She struggled to her feet, her face pink, her blond hair tousled. She regained her balance and laughed with a nervous sound. "Well, that was something. I hope I didn't make a fool of myself. Things seemed to be getting out of hand." Her breasts were swollen from her excitement and Greg could easily see the stiff nipples pushing against the thin bodice.
"You were beautiful, my dear," Sigrid said in a matronly way. "Wasn't she, David?"
The boy nodded. "I'm gonna try standing on my head. It looks like fun." He grinned at Karen like a child. "Don't let me fall, okay?"
"Okay," Karen replied, her eyes bright.
The boy displayed his athletic prowess at once. He knelt, put his head down, and lifted his feet as easily as though he were taking a walk. He stood on his head, hands propping his body firmly so that his body was straight up and down. After a wiggle or two he grinned upside down at Karen.
"Come on, don't let me fall."
Greg saw that, with the words, the kid raised a hard-on that seemed to fill his crotch to a bursting. He could see the coiled snake in the tight jeans, the tight nuts above. He was ready to split his pants with passion. There was no doubt that Karen saw it all, too.
He saw his wife's mouth sag open, her eyes bulge. Her face was more flushed than ever, but not from standing on her head. She moved closer to the boy and her hands came out to grasp at his hips.
"That's it," David exclaimed as his body trembled. He was trembling because he was worked up, Greg was certain.
Karen couldn't seem to tear her eyes from that bulging pouch, and as Greg and the others watched, she went to work. She slipped her hands from his hips and grasped his upper thighs, much in the way David had been grasping her thighs not long before. Then, one hand still digging into a thigh, she permitted the other to drift over his zipper. Karen made a pretense of accidentally brushing his fly, but she let her thumb catch the zipper tab and, when a finger joined the thumb, she slid the zipper toward the ceiling until it was gaping open.
As Karen did this she turned away, toward Sigrid. "He's quite a boy."
"Quite," the Amazon agreed.
Karen sighed and turned back to him in the instant that his rock-like prick uncoiled and shoved its head through the open fly. It came out like a steel bar, fully a foot long and precisely horizontal to the floor. Christ, Greg thought, these Taylors were in prime physical condition.
Karen licked her lips and then she did it. When he quivered again she cried, "Don't fall!" and she tightened one hand on his thigh. The other, as though by accident, grasped the shank of his massive cock as though it were the handle of a tennis racket.
It was a long and tanned cock with a gigantic knob. A fascinating thing for men and women to behold. The knob was a pink, deeper in color than the rest of the huge organ. As Greg watched the small fingers close around the shaft he saw the knob turn a deeper color.
"Lordy," Diana breathed. "As many times as I've seen it I never miss a chance to see it again. It's like a visit back to the Grand Canyon, I suppose."
Greg, who had been to the Grand Canyon, nodded. 'Take it from me, it is."
Karen kept a firm grip on the prick and a moment later she used both hands. David was panting. "Mrs. Eastman, I don't think you can do that for long."
"Notice who is using her hands on whom, mister morality," Sigrid rasped to Greg, and she was unable to hide her smirk.
The little son of a bitch has hypnotized her," he shot back in a low voice.
"Of course. With that hunk of beef between his legs."
Again they quieted and watched as Karen bit her lower hp. "I think I know of a way to keep you from falling, David. I'll need a stool."
She had hardly gotten the words out of her mouth when Diana dashed across the room and produced a stout stool, one used for exercising. It was almost impossible to upset. Karen smiled her thanks and placed the stool before David. The boy looked strange, on his head, breathing hard, fly open, his cock standing at right angles to his thin body. Everything he ate went into his prick, Greg reasoned.
Karen climbed up on the stool and in a flash Greg saw what his wife had in mind. Jesus! Was it possible? His own wife was going to do it with this punk kid before their very eyes? Even before the eyes of her faithful husband? He had to catch himself up short. Faithful, my ass.
As Karen straightened he saw that the stool was the right height exactly. Probably it had been used before for the same purpose. There was no telling with this family.
Karen's crotch lined up with David's thrusting cock. She had only to lift her skirt...and as Greg thought the words Karen carried them out. She lifted the skirt and leaned her hips forward. Sure enough his prick raked across her lower belly and she sucked her belly in sharply from the excitement of the contact.
In that instant Karen was alone in the room with her' young lover. She was a fully willing partner as she half raised herself on her toes and worked her spread knees around so that the big knob nestled into her blond bush. She wormed her hips this way and that, and Greg could see the cock hook onto the lips of her cunt like a homing device. The pink lips spread and she began to take him. He entered slowly, smoothly, with a minimum of panting and jerking.
Greg felt his own cock straining against his crotch and he looked down at himself. As he did a small hand covered his pouch and squeezed it reassuringly.
"Take it easy, Mr. Eastman," Diana murmured. "We'll get around to you."
CHAPTER TEN
Greg gasped as Karen's hips eased forward. The motion slid David's prick more deeply into her body and she grasped his knees to keep him from falling over. In a few more smooth and almost effortless movements they were linked together. His tight balls were pressed against her lower belly, just an inch above where his cock was fully seated in her cunt.
They paused and Karen smiled over her shoulder. "I know this is terribly evil, people, and I'm doing an awful thing to you, Greg, darling, but I can't help myself. Don't you see? I'm drunk, I'm on a trip, I'm high, all at once. Nothing can make me come down until we finish what we've started. I hope I haven't disappointed you too much, darling." She was looking at Greg.
Greg nodded and shrugged, feeling like a fool. "Shit, do what you have to do."
Tears filled her eyes. "But I mustn't"
"Then pull out Push the punk on his fucking face and we'll get out of here."
"I can't do that either," she wailed.
"Then fuck him and be done with it," he snapped. "Just stop the acting. You had hot pants when we came in here. Go ahead and satisfy yourself."
"I want to save some for you, though."
"Do as you want," Greg hissed. "Go ahead. I know how you feel, sweetheart." His words dripped with acid.
"Let's not be a hypocrite," Sigrid warned him. "You know what went on earlier today." The Amazon spoke very quietly.
Greg blew out his cheeks and nodded. "Yes. Okay, honey, go ahead and enjoy yourself. We won't interfere."
He felt the small hand squeeze his pouch again. "Way to go, Mr. Eastman," Diana giggled.
They watched as Karen began a slow undulation of her hips. Back and forth, in and out. David matched her movements, and her grip on his knees kept him from falling. They sucked in and out in a gentle, squishing sound that only served to make Greg hotter than ever.
The couple pumped as one, in total harmony, and Greg felt himself somewhat jealous. Not because this kid was screwing his ever-loving wife but because they got along so well together. He could learn from watching this boy in action and, in a mental sense, Greg began to-take notes. The way those hips slid in and out, the way he seemed to twist to get a slight corkscrew effect with each penetration, the way he concentrated his entire body on making the rhythm as perfect as possible.
Karen was moaning. "Oh...that's so good. It feels so perfect. You're so far up me...almost up to my throat from the feel of things. And you're so smooth, so strong, without any funny jerking that mixes me up most of the time. You're really like the oiled part of an engine...a piston that goes in and out without an ounce of vibration..."
Greg was jealous again. So she wanted this kid to fuck her, but at least she didn't need to. tell him that he was better than her own husband. He swallowed his anger and continued to be the careful student. He was going to learn and he was going to do his homework. Yes, he'd get something out of this mental torture.
The couple continued to work and he felt Sigrid lean her ample hip against him. "What do you say, tiger? Are they better than us?"
Greg had to smile at her. "I doubt it to beat hell."
They both laughed and Karen glanced at them as they worked. David was grunting softly with each thrust now and he looked ready to pop his guts. "Are we that funny?" Karen blurted. "I don't feel funny...at least not in that way."
"You're beautiful, darling," Sigrid assured her.
Karen smiled and then she Sucked her breath in sharply, her body freezing for an instant. "God, I almost went that time. I'm getting terribly close."
"Beautifully close," Diana corrected with her sweet child's voice.
It was David's turn to suck in his breath, which he appeared to hold. The sight of Karen's white thighs and the whiteness of his crotch-all that white flesh-was getting to Greg. He was ready to go off, too. But he made himself hold back and, fortunately, the women at either side of him had removed their hands from his body.
In a few seconds the young couple were at the brink of their climax. It was David who let go first. He trembled and screamed at Karen to keep a firm hold on his knees. His arms were losing their strength and soon he could tumble, but he struggled to hang on long enough. He turned a deep pink and then his prick exploded up into her womb.
Greg could almost see Karen's loins spread from the fearful pressure as the boy unleashed his great teen-aged power up into her welcoming body. He thrust again and again and Greg could imagine great bolts of sperm ramming up, working against gravity as though it didn't exist.
In another few seconds he saw Karen suddenly shudder. It was more than the shock of David's coming. Her own body was beginning to deliver its punches. She wrapped her arms around his legs and slammed her crotch against his still throbbing prick, time after time, crying out, half weeping, calling his name and her husband's name.
Then their temple crashed. David's arms gave way and Karen began to stumble from the stool. They went over like a tree in the, forest, crashing to the thick mat in a tangle of arms and legs. They slapped down and bounced but Greg could see that they were unhurt.
Indeed, they continued to writhe in passion, and they continued to spurt their juices into one another's bodies. At last the boy lost his power and, after a few final jerks of her hips, Karen's strength seemed to melt.
They fell apart and his limp and soggy cock draped across his thigh, still oozing sperm which ran around his thigh to make a small puddle on the mat. Karen was also puddling between her legs as she lay flat on her back, her arms and thighs spread widely.
There was no sound but their breathing for several minutes, and Greg looked at Sigrid and then at Diana. Both women seemed to be waiting. They didn't applaud. They didn't walk away. They didn't start chattering. They simply kept looking, as though they'd witnessed a miracle.
Finally it was little Diana who whispered in her child's voice: "David, you were wonderful."
"Mrs. Eastman is no slouch," he replied gallantly. "She knows how to use what she's got and she's got plenty."
"Why, thank you," Karen replied, as though the boy had been admiring her new Easter bonnet. "You're very nice, both in manners and talent. God, if I had you to show me, to give me the inspiration.. . "
Greg felt his face turn red and he bit his lip. All right, so he'd learned a few things that day. Both from Sigrid and from her punk son. He widened his eyes at that moment, wondering if he were going to learn more. Yes, he would.
David had rolled to his side and he propped himself up on his elbow. He smiled down at Karen's totally relaxed body. It lay by his side like a rare and expensive fur coat, its folds deep and luxurious.
Working slowly, David rolled Karen over on her belly and she merely fluttered her eyes as he did so. Then he slid the zipper on her mini and parted it. He rolled her back, urged her to half sit up so he could pull the dress over her shoulders, and then he eased it down over her hips. With a couple of expert jerks he had it off and tossed aside.
Karen's naked body was gorgeous, still pink and white and clean looking. Her breasts were tanned hills topped with pink nipples. The hollow of her navel was beautiful and her blond crotch was still damp and shining. Those legs! Long, strong, seemingly willing to try again.
And it was so. It was Karen's turn to make David sit up. She unbuttoned his shirt and jerked it out of his jeans. Then she opened a button at the top of his fly and swiftly pulled the tight pants over his loins. Shirt and jeans followed her dress into a heap across the bedroom gymnasium.
There wasn't much to David's body, except for that cock. What there was to him was very lean and obviously hard. His ribs stuck out and the chest was thin, but the meat covering them had no fat on it. He'd worked himself into the best possible condition for his age and size, Greg was certain of that.
It was his prick that was the eighth wonder of the world. It was almost a foot long even when it was limp, as it was at that moment. It lay over his thigh and across the mat like a snake that had been hit with a stick. Even as Greg watched the thing began to stir. Apparently the act of removing his clothing had caused something to come alive inside that rawhide body.
A fresh wave of shame washed over Greg as he squatted with the others, watching the two naked bodies. Christ, one of those bodies belonged to his wife! His very own wife, the woman who had been forever faithful to him. And now she'd been totally seduced right before his own eyes. It was incredible and he turned to Sigrid.
"I guess you won, fair and square."
"Don't fret," Sigrid replied. "Honey, remember this, nobody's been hurt, unless you want to be hurt. Your wife is having the time of her life and I think you are, too, from the size of that hard-on inside your crotch. Relax and learn. Karen certainly is. And the show isn't over yet. Take a look."
He followed her pointing finger with his eyes. David was sitting up, his knees apart, legs crossed. The gigantic cock was semi-hard between his legs, trying to lift its heavy head from the mat. It wasn't easy for his orgasm had been thorough, and he surely wasn't the strongest kid in the world.
Karen sat at his side, apparently not disposed to run off anywhere. Her eyes were regaining their brightness and .she glanced about with some interest. She smiled sweetly at the others.
"I hope we're not boring you."
Three heads shook, including Greg's. He could tell from the straining inside his crotch that he was anxious for the show to go on.
They watched as David's hand patted Karen on the shoulder. "You're real good, Mrs. Eastman. Real good. I sure appreciate a partner like you."
Karen blushed and her eyes were lowered, as she replied, "Why, thank you, David. That's very nice to hear." She glanced at Greg with a vague I-told-you-so look in her eyes.
The boy took her face in his hands and turned her head toward himself. As their bodies leaned together Greg watched the nipple of his wife's right breast flatten itself against the kid's thin chest. His prick turned harder and he knew that he'd need to do something before the day was over. Much as Sigrid had drained from him, he wasn't finished with sex.
Still holding her face, David gently kissed her on the lips and Karen kissed him back. As their lips clung together her hands stole over his thin knees and thighs. She groped for a moment until her hands came to rest on his prick. At once the big thing shuddered like a beast being awakened and the head began to lift. The giant knob seemed to nestle into her palm like a puppy seeking a home. She closed her fingers around it.
He broke the kiss, still holding her face. "That's very nice. I appreciate it."
"I'm so glad you do."
Christ, they were talking like a couple of librarians exchanging books, but the bizarre effect made Greg hotter than ever. The contrast between what they said and what was really going on was electric. He knew the others could feel it, for even little Diana was having trouble sitting still on the mat. She t was doing her share of squirming.
As David kissed Karen again her hands continued to grope across his crotch. She grasped his prick in both hands and slowly stroked in what seemed to be a natural reflex action. Nobody told her to do it; she simply had the instinct to go ahead and do it herself.
They kissed for several minutes and his prick grew more and more before he broke the kiss again. He raised his eyebrows at Karen and there was an unspoken question. Somehow Greg at once knew what David's question was and Karen seemed to understand at once, too. She half smiled as though to keep him in doubt.
But the kid was in command, really, for he was the sex expert. He knew what to do because he'd doubtless been taught by the big mama expert, who was bringing her children up to be make out machines of the first caliber.
Gently, he guided Karen's head toward his chest and there she pursed her lips to kiss first one almost colorless nipple and then the other. He shuddered slightly as she did so and his eyes closed for a moment. His prick was fully erect, rising from his crotch at an angle toward the ceiling. He slowly slipped down to his back, but he held on to Karen's head, keeping her lips against his chest.
She knelt over him, breathing hard through her nose as she continued to peck kisses on his thin body. He at last released her head and he linked his fingers behind his head, fully exposing himself to her and allowing her to do as she pleased.
Now his prick was pointing straight up and she had the good sense to keep her hands away from the thing because it could explode at any moment. His strength was gathered in his crotch, inflating that magnificent cock, cocking it, priming it, putting it on a hair trigger.
Karen lowered herself over him so that her bottom was pointing up in the air. Depending on where the members of the gallery were sitting they could see the top of her head, the profile of her puckered lips or the expanse of her bottom with the blond hairs trailing up from her crack. It was an interesting view from almost any angle.
She worked her way down to his belly and when he sucked it in there was nothing but ribs. She counted them with her lips and found herself at the very top of his groin. She was trailing her mouth over the last bit of flesh before moving into his sparse pubic hairs, which were almost as blond as the hair on his head.
He shuddered slightly when Karen kissed him there and Greg shuddered, too. It was an incredible sight. His wife was working her face into another man's crotch and he didn't seem to mind-except that the prospect excited him.
Her lips reached the upper base of his prick and then moved an inch or two out on the shaft. David trembled again and again as her full and obviously warm mouth marched inexorably toward his knob, pecking its way along inch after inch of huge and straining prick. At last she paused and lifted her face somewhat to look up the length of his body. She smiled and David nodded as though giving his permission.
Greg shook his head. Incredible!
Then her head came down and as it did so her mouth opened. Her parted lips settled over the erect knob, taking about half of its bulk between their warmth.
They rested like that for a moment and then David took charge. He half sat up, rested his hands on the back of Karen's head to keep her mouth and face in the correct position, and then he did two things. He rammed his hands down hard on her head and in the same instant lifted his bottom from the pad, unleashing his body like a whip so that Karen's face went all the way down on his prick.
Immediately at least six inches of cock shot into her mouth and she choked for a moment. He waited until she stopped coughing and then he did it again. Another half dozen inches disappeared into her face and Greg realized the thing was coihng all the way down her throat, that the head must be almost at the entrance to her stomach.
When he was all the way home David again patted her gently on the top of her golden head and he pulled her hair back from his thighs and tucked it behind her ears. Now everybody had a better view. Then he lay back again with his hands behind his head.
It was up to Karen and she began to raise and lower her face as he did the same with his crotch by flexing the muscles in his thin buttocks. They worked like that for perhaps a minute before David froze. Through it all there was a gentle slurping and some gentle grunting as Karen fought to keep from choking.
Then the boy's body stiffened like a plank and he cried out in a high, thin sound, like a girl who's seen a mouse in her bed.
Karen rammed her face down hard one last time and the lad began to come. It hit her in the face like a rifle bullet and her head was actually knocked back by the impact. But she held on and fought her way all the way back, keeping the seal intact as she began her gigantic gulping. Yes, she was getting it all, not losing a drop on the mat
He seemed to come for fully five minutes, although Greg knew he had to be exaggerating in his own mind. Then he sighed and his head rolled to the side. He saw Greg's staring face and he smiled at him.
"Some lady you got, Mr. Eastman," he whispered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Greg couldn't answer. He couldn't talk. He didn't know what to do. He knew he was hot, all right. Who wouldn't, after seeing what he'd just seen, have a hell of a hard-on? But he still couldn't accept what he'd witnessed.
He didn't know whether to simply get up and walk out or whether to punch David's face out of shape. No, that wouldn't be fair. After all, Karen was the one who had brought it on herself. She'd wanted it and it had been her more than David who had made certain she would get it.
Greg stood, his knees somewhat weak, and he looked around. From her place on the mat Karen looked up at him. He knew there was anger on his face but she didn't seem particularly worried. She was still engrossed in the rosy aftermath of sexual satisfaction. She really didn't give a damn.
He couldn't blame her for this because she'd been serviced by an expert. If she'd been weak, she'd been no weaker than he. He licked his lips and nodded to the others.
"I'm getting out of here. I want to be alone for a while, while I think things out."
Sigrid began to rise with him but he waved her back. She sat down again on the mat. "Don't do anything foolish, lover," the Amazon warned. "Remember, if you both fall you can't blame one another."
He nodded. "That's what I'm going to think about. See you all later-possibly."
He turned and marched out of the little gymnasium, through the apartment and out the front door. It was dark outside in the corridor and he could see the twinkling lights on the beach beyond the pool. The pool itself was a glowing rectangle of blue-green light It looked very inviting.
Back in his own apartment he went immediately to the kitchen where he opened the cupboard, took out a bottle and splashed whisky into a water glass. When it was half filled he sat down, elbows on the table, and drank deeply. His eyes watered from the strong stuff and he shook his head.
He sat and stared at the calendar on the opposite wall. It was a winter scene somewhere where they had a deep forest and a hell of a lot of snow. A deer stood in the snow, one hoof raised, as though it were waiting for a city bus to stop and make a pickup.
He stared at the calendar without really looking at the thing. He was thinking deep thoughts. Was it all over with him and Karen? Could their marriage survive such a day as this? Could they look one another in the face again and make love?
He admitted that they'd both learned, and he was anxious to try out his new skills. Sigrid and David were master teachers and Karen and Greg hadn't been dull pupils. They'd sharpened their sexual prowess and he knew they could make it well together.
But that wasn't the point. They could make it, but would this satisfy them? After what he'd seen could he ever again get a thrill out of fucking his wife? Would he be back and remember David and his gigantic prick sticking into her pussy-and into her angelic face?
He sighed aloud and shook his head. Then he took another pull of whisky. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to commit himself too hastily and that was what Sigrid was warning him about. He'd be foolish simply to pack his bags and march out of the apartment.
He licked whisky from his lips as he slumped in his chair. He didn't know what to do. He admitted that he was still worked up, that he was hot from watching the bizarre scene. Sigrid had thoroughly unlocked him, and the David-Karen orgy had kept the door opened. His prick was still stiff and he wished he knew what to do about that
He heard a sound and he cocked his head. The front door was being opened, slowly, cautiously. He listened as it clicked shut and then he waited. All right, so she was coming back to him, to sound him out to plead with him not to run away from their marriage.
He didn't know whether he was pleased or not so he merely sat, watching the entrance to the kitchen, until she appeared. He was startled by her appearance.
"Hello," she murmured in a little girl's voice.
He nodded as he sighed again.
"I thought you might need company."
He shrugged. "I don't care, really."
"Maybe I could make you something to eat? Would you like bacon and eggs?"
He blinked at the child. At fifteen Diana was half child-half woman, but she definitely had the sensitivity of a mature woman. She knew how to handle herself. , Again he shrugged. "I'm not hungry."
"Some scene." She angled her head toward the apartment next door.
"Some scene," he repeated.
"What did you think about it? I mean how do you feel after all that?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he muttered as he ran his fingers through his hair.
He looked at Diana. She was a pretty girl, small with a firm body, much like her brother, except that she had more pronounced curves, of course. Her breasts looked small under her floppy man's shirt, but there were definitely buds inside that bodice. Her hips were still slim, but beginning to flare. She had her mother's rusty hair and green eyes, but they were purer in color and certainly the glitter in the eyes was much more innocent.
At last he said, "There's bacon and eggs in the refrigerator."
"Goody," she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "I'm starving, too." , He watched her lean into the refrigerator to look and he liked the small tightness of her bottom inside her jeans, jeans which looked as though they'd been painted on. Her legs would be thin and straight, just maturing to womanly thighs and calves, he knew.
He watched as she worked at the stove, getting out the aluminum frying pan and then laying out the strips of bacon. After a short while she placed them on a paper towel and then began to cook the eggs. She scrambled a half dozen or more and then she put all the food on two plates. It made a pleasant heap of delicious odors.
She served him and then she sat across from him with her own plate. They ate in silence, and as they ate Diana began to talk. As her spirits rose she became less sober, less mature, sounding more like a child again. She told him about school, about her teachers, how she fought with David over who got to use the bathroom first. She really was only a kid at heart and he was glad to watch her relax with him and begin to really enjoy herself.
Before long their plates were cleaned up. She took hers to the sink and then she came to Greg's side of the table. She moved gracefully, like the deer in the calendar might move if it were given life. She leaned over his shoulder to take his plate and his arm accidentally came up to brush across her child's breast.
It was surprisingly soft and his elbow sank into a comfortable heat She made a small sound and he turned his head up toward her at once. Their faces were only an inch apart. Tm sorry," he muttered.
"Gee, that's all right" She was still the little girl with her breathless voice.
"I didn't mean to do that."
"Sure you didn't."
She retrieved his plate and he watched her rinsing the dishes at the sink. Yes, she had a good little body. Greg was hot and, damn it, he wanted her. But he had to keep his hands off. He realized she'd probably had plenty of sex performance for her tender age, but he wasn't going to contribute to her delinquency. He had a sense of decency that he was going to cling to, no matter how battered it had become in only one day.
When she was finished she turned and looked at him. "I wonder what's happening in 5-B."
"Who cares?" he blurted, his face long.
"I think you do."
He sat at the table still, his head in his hands. She moved behind him and he could hear her bare feet slap slightly on the linoleum. "Have you got a headache?"
"In a way, yes."
"Let me take care of it for you, Mr. Eastman. Mom showed me how to do it when she's not feeling right."
She was leaning over him from the back and her cool, young fingers rubbed his temples. As she worked her body came closer and soon he could feel her budding breasts rubbing across his back. As she worked he felt his temperature going up. His prick swiftly came back to life. He was hard and ready, but he had to hold himself back for Karen...or perhaps Sigrid. Surely not this kid.
As she moved back and forth, and her fingers made their circles, he felt his other problems drop away in favor of his passion and a certain animal peace of mind. Her hands went to his chest, inside his shirt, and there she continued to make stroking circles. She rubbed his nipples until they were tingling.
She opened a few buttons on his shirt and continued her rubbing down to his belly. She was leaning over his shoulder, her breasts pressing hard now, and her face was right next to his. She was breathing hard but he believed that was only because she was working hard to help him.
He lifted his head and their ears were pressed together. He turned his face and their lips met as she turned toward him in the same instant. They were very tender virginal lips, even though he knew it was impossible for Diana to have been a virgin.
Their kiss was tender and long and when he broke it Greg spoke. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to do that. I forgot who I am and how young you are."
"I'm young, but I'm growing up fast, Mr. "Eastman," she said in her child's voice.
"It's too soon. Come back in a few years."
"But I'm here now," she murmured in a lower voice that didn't sound at all childish.
Then her hands went lower and he gasped when her fingers closed over his pouch. "And you've got a nifty hard-on. I really dig older men with hard-ons."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Greg sighed and closed his eyes. Christ, he should have known. This was the Taylor family. like mother, like son, like daughter.
He dropped his hands to his sides as she immediately unzipped his fly. She reached inside and in a second his prick was whipped out and lying in her small fingers. She made some sounds deeply in her throat as she looked at it. "Golly, Mr. Eastman, you're really..."
Suddenly he was revolted and he slapped her hands away. "Go on, get out of here. This is filthy!"
She leaped back and tears sprang into her eyes. She bit her lips and nodded. "All right, you're the boss..."
"Yes," he blurted, reaching for her again, "I am the boss. Come here, you child woman. Come here, you know I can't get along without you."
She stood before him as he dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor. He wrapped his arms around her thin hips and his hands fastened on her buttocks. She wasn't large back there but she was firm and nicely formed. She'd look wonderful in a bikini-or naked.
He kneaded her bottom hard, pulling her up on her toes and into his face as he worked. His face was buried between her breasts and through the shirt he could feel her young heat. With his teeth he gnawed at the buttons until the shirt began to sag open and he could see inside.
She wore no bra, of course, and the young breasts were filling as he watched. Their nipples were already erect, pink and virginal, as though they had never been touched by human hands. Impossible!
He wormed his nose and then his face inside her shirt, and his mouth found a breast at once. He closed his lips over it and sucked hard. Diana gasped and wrapped her hands around his head, hugging him to her bosom.
"Oh, Mr. Eastman, that feels so good! You really don't know how good!"
He knew, all right, but he didn't have the time to really think about it and he sure as hell didn't want to discuss it. He was burning up and this punk of a kid was going to help him put out his fires. He wormed his face back and forth over her left breast and then he turned to the right one. He again Sucked a nipple until it was distended like a wooden golf tee.
The young girl gasped and sputtered with her chin resting atop his head. He released her bottom and used his hands to tear the shirt from her body, pulling it from her tightly packed jeans. He held her back and looked at her.
Yes, she was thin, but her shoulders were good, and by the time she was seventeen she would have proud breasts that would drive the high school boys crazy.
Even now they were burgeoning before his eyes as her breathing increased and her passion made them swell.
Again he kissed each one and then he was working at the button on her jeans. He got it open and the zipper surrendered without being told to. It slid down and her rusty pubic hairs blossomed out into the open under his gaze. They looked like burnished copper, beautiful, young, shining, stiff with youthful sex vigor.
He stared. "You're a beautiful child!"
"Thank you," she murmured in a sweet voice.
"No, I mean it."
"I know you do."
He pulled at her hips and the jeans slid down, unrolling as they unsuccessfully clung to her slim and smooth body. He jerked them to her knees and looked down into her brush. Yes; inside there were pink lips, delicate lips, not large lips, but they seemed to have a light of welcome shining in their depths. She was a child. She was also a woman.
He stripped the girl naked and she stood before him, hands at first clasped before her; and then she dropped them to her sides to show him that she was not afraid. He shook his head as he placed his finger directly in the middle of her little cunt. She shuddered, so he did it again.
"I like that."
He took the finger and pushed it into her brush, up between her lips until he had it well inside of her young body. Then he raised the finger behind the place where her upper lips were joined. There he found the little knot of muscle that was so important. In this child it seemed to be fully developed.
He ran his fingers across the knot, and Diana shuddered as though something had exploded deeply in her stomach. He wormed his finger over the knot for another minute until he saw that her knees were beginning to buckle. So he removed his finger.
She followed it, grasping it and lifting it to her lips where her small pink tongue licked it clean. Then she kissed the finger and pressed it into one of her nipples.
He giggled like a child himself.
She giggled right back as she slid her hips forward. He lowered his face and her box was walked right into his nose and mouth. He smelled the odor of musk. Yes, she was mature, all right. She was secreting generously, lubricating herself; making herself ready for anything he might do to her.
He buried his face in her crotch, again wrapping his arms around her. She hugged his head and murmured as he began to make slurping sounds.
"There my sweet baby...my sweet baby...my good baby...my baby who wants me to be so very close to him.. . "
He opened his mouth wide and his tongue shot out, up into the place where his finger had already been. He raked the tongue against the side of her cunt and she shuddered again as though he'd kicked her hard in her midsection. He raked the tongue back and forth, and then he raked it over the little button which was her seat of passion.
He worked it back and forth until the girl was staggering. She would have fallen if he hadn't had his arms wrapped around her buttocks and hips. He held on as she wobbled and then he was falling back. She was falling on top of him, but he held on tightly, and his tongue never left the inside of her gentle, young pussy.
He fell to his back on the floor and she sprawled over him, supporting herself on her elbows but with her legs spread wide and her distended cunt right over his mouth. He slurped on until her shudders reached a climax.
"Oh...I'm going to make it!"
And little Diana, the sweet redhead who was going to grow up to be just like her mother, did make it. She made it long, fast and hard. She shuddered from one end of her thin body to the other, squirming time after time, her pussy convulsing over his tongue and trying to pull it out by its roots. She wailed and pounded feebly on the kitchen floor as she expended her juices all over his face.
At last her strength began to wane and she allowed her forehead to rest on the floor, where it left a damp spot of sweat. She gasped for air and trembled slightly once or twice more as the final shocks of orgasm rippled through her frail frame.
She gasped one last gasp and rolled from her master. She lay looking at the light fixture in the ceiling for a few minutes and then she rolled to her side. He was lying face up, a mess. The child scrambled to her feet, ran water over a towel and wiped him clean.
Then she was kneeling over him, loosening his clothes, pulling the shirt from his pants. She removed his shoes and socks, and then she went to work at his belt. She fumbled with the buckle and then she had it open. She unzipped his fly and began to jerk. Greg tried to lift his hips to help her along with her chore.
She worked the pants to his knees and then she ripped open the snaps on his shorts. She giggled. "Gee, pretty new shorts, the ones Mrs. Eastman bought you downtown today."
He grunted his assent. They'd discussed his under-shorts just about enough over in 5-B.
She got everything down to his ankles and he helped kick them off. She tossed them aside and leaned back on her haunches to examine him. "Gee, you really look good down there. I didn't know you had so much."
Greg lifted his head and looked down, for some reason startled that they were both naked. All that flesh and, rising between them, that pole of his. It wasn't as long as David's but it might have been thicker. At any rate, he wasn't ashamed of it. He had plenty of muscle where it counted.
'It works, too," he boasted.
"Golly, I'll bet it does."
She leaned down and kissed his pole on the knob and he lurched. "Christ!"-"What?"
"This floor. It's colder than hell. Come on." He leaped up and grasped her by the hand.
They ran into the small living room and there he dropped into a deep overstuffed chair. She fell on her knees before him, sinking into the soft carpet, and her head at once came down to meet him again. She again kissed him on the knob and he gently grasped her ears. "You're beautiful. No guile. You know what to do and you go ahead and do it. I appreciate that."
She smiled up into his face. "I'm glad you do, Mr. Eastman."
She kissed him again, lips parted, and he gently raised his hips. She didn't pull away. She let him slip half of the knob between her lips and then she came down to take the rest of it inside. She hooked her teeth over the flange so that it couldn't escape, and then her tongue rasped over the tip.
Greg shuddered. Now he was being kicked in the belly by his tearing sexual emotions. His nerves were sitting up and humming a merry song. He wanted to come and come fast and, the way this girl was performing, it wouldn't take long.
She swished her tongue back and forth over his knob until he wondered if she were tearing the skin. Then she pulled her mouth away, but he wasn't disappointed for long. She began to lick his prick like a tabby cat, all up and down the shaft, down underneath to his balls, where she nibbled gently in the hairs until Greg wanted to grab her ears and scream.
Instead he made himself hold back, grit his teeth, and wait for what was sure to come.'Then she was back, sucking on the knob again, licking as she did so. He lifted his hips and slid a few inches up into her.
She looked up into his face and her eyes crinkled. She took just what he offered her and then she pushed her head down to take a little more. They did it this way for several minutes-him thrusting and then she doing the same-until he was all the way home. She had taken a large hunk of flesh into her head, but she'd managed to open her throat and let it trail all the way down. It didn't matter how much he might give her, she'd have accommodated him.
She began to pull, suck and bob her head up and down. It didn't take long for she had an educated mouth and throat. It felt to Greg as though there were a thousand tiny hands down in there, each pulling at his prick, massaging the knob, pinching the shaft, until he felt as though a school of piranha was nibbling on him.
The sensation was electric and it was only seconds before he began to come. He was almost surprised he had anything left, after what Sigrid had doite to him, but he managed to pull up and then spurt a healthy glob of sticky white stuff into fair Diana's throat. He came again and then again as her busy little throat hands coaxed every drop out of him.
He felt his muscles pull at the urging of his nerves and at last he gave her his last and then he slumped in the chair. The room whirled when he closed his eyes so he kept them open. He didn't want to disgrace himself by passing out.
He must have dozed, however, even with his eyes open, because he heard her voice before he could understand what she was saying.
"...don't you think, Mr. Eastman?" she was whispering, still on her knees before him.
'What?"
"I said don't you think you've had enough?"
Greg bristled at once. "What the hell, are you accusing me of being washed up? I'm older than you, little girl, but twenty-five isn't exactly over the hill."
"I didn't say.. . "
"All right, then," he blurted and he shoved her out of the way as he rose from the chair. He pushed her hard and Diana rolled to her back on the floor. She looked up at him and he thought he detected a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. So, the little fucker was taunting him for a reason, was she? She wanted more and she knew the way to get it was to accuse him of being washed up.
He dropped to his knees beside her and examined that flat, white body. Flat but with angles and bumps. Angles where her hips shoved against the flesh. Bumps where her breasts, still inflated with passion, shoved up toward him. Her nipples were still distended. Her belly heaved in and out, and he watched the small navel heave up and down. Very pretty, interesting and exciting.
So he leaned down to kiss her on the navel, and her hand stole around the back of his thigh to go up into his crotch. She stumbled on his balls and she easily rolled them in her fingers, making them tingle and fill once again. It was as though she were pumping the sperm from his manufacturing plant down into his crotch, making his production forces work three shifts to produce .enough for him to perform one more time.
He smiled down into her face and he kissed her. "It's time I turned around, little girl," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"You'll see. Just stay where you are. Daddy will take care of everything."
He caught her hand up in his crotch and pulled it away. Then he put her hands at her sides, crawled around until his body was reversed to hers, and then he climbed directly over her. He looked down and saw that his prick was dangling straight into her face, just above it, like a ripe banana waiting to be picked and easily eaten.
Straight down from his face was her pussy and he lowered his face until its musky odor shot up into his nostrils. Ah, that was fragrance. He blew lightly into her cunt and she shuddered. "Golly, that feels good all over again," she blurted, and then he felt her blowing up, a gentle stream of air massaging his cock and balls. That felt good, too.
He lowered himself at both ends at the same time, and in the instant his prick touched the tip of her nose, his lips brushed into her cunt hairs. He lowered his face and planted his mouth on her puffy pink lips. For her part Diana kissed his knob and immediately it sprang back into life. He felt it throb as the shaft began to expand all over again. Good, he wasn't washed up, even though one more orgasm might be the last act of his life. For surely if he came again he'd turn himself inside out
She opened her mouth and took him as he came down, until his knob dropped between her teeth. She closed them over it and nibbled gently like a pilot fish at the belly of a whale. He dropped his face all the way down. Then he was fully sprawling over her, head in her cunt, cock, firm and stiff once more, shoved all the way down into her throat.
They humped back and forth like two children on a rocking horse as each worked to stimulate the two-headed creature they had become. Then they were coming, each squirming and squealing, each pleased to be making it all over again.
He felt his balls suck up and then convulse as he dumped his load into her throat for the second time. She was gulping hard to get it all, and he knew she wouldn't allow a drop to escape and mark the deep carpet
For his part, he shot his tongue as deeply as he could all over. Again and again he felt her convulse, and the walls of her pussy clutched at his tongue to suck it up into her womb. He swished it back and forth until she shuddered, made a brief stiff bridge of her body and then collapsed under him.
He laughed deeply inside her for he'd matched this kid all the way. He was as strong and as insatiable as she, and she was one of the famous Taylor clan, the trio that was never supposed to get enough sex. Sigrid. David, Diana. Each of them powerhouses, but Greg hadn't quit. Neither, for that matter, had Karen. She'd given an excellent account of herself in the family gymnasium.
As they rolled apart and lay on the living room floor, Greg wondered where his wife was. Was she doing it all over again with David while Sigrid did the coaching? Christ, it was time she got back here.
"Good evening, you two."
Greg froze and then he sat up. Diana was sitting up, too, rubbing her eyes as though she'd fallen asleep. Karen was standing over them, fully dressed, her hands on her hips.
She didn't look at all happy. Greg looked at the child by his side and suddenly he felt ashamed. He'd done the wrong thing.
Karen was right
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It had been a difficult night. After a half hour of silence while they'd undressed, they'd fallen into bed and slept without moving more than ten hours. When he awoke it was late Sunday morning and Greg blinked as he sat up.
For a blessed few seconds he didn't remember a thing and then it all came back. The orgy-the total orgy that had lasted far too long and had involved all the wrong people. He swiftly turned his head and looked down at Karen.
Her golden hair was fanned out on the pillow and her lips were parted as she breathed deeply. She lay on her back with the covers pulled down to her waist. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts, their nipples pushing against the gossamer material of her nightgown.
Breasts. He thought about Sigrid and then about Diana. Diana. She had been the last straw and Karen's wrath had been brought down on the young girl. Before she had driven her back to her own apartment she'd made the child promise to return that morning for a long heart-to-heart talk with Karen.
He glanced toward the bedside clock. Almost eleven, the hour which had been set. Gently he touched Karen s shoulder and her eyes opened at once.
"It's getting late," he murmured as he lowered his face close to hers. "Almost eleven."
"Eleven?"
"You remember. Diana's coming over for her lecture."
His wife sat up and rubbed her eyes. Then she stretched and yawned and, exhausted as he was, Greg couldn't keep his eyes from her body. Yes, he could make it one more time that weekend, if she were willing.
Karen looked at him, seeming to sense his question, which was more perception than she would have shown before the lengthy encounter with the Taylor clan. She shook her head now. "I'm sorry, dear. Not now. We...I have too much to do."
"I could handle it. I think I could keep on top of things all right."
Again she shook her head. "No, this calls for girl talk. I'm going to get them both over here to have it out."
Greg swung his feet to the floor and scratched himself. "What's the purpose? It's done. It isn't-likely to happen again."
He was surprised when Karen touched his shoulder, for she had gone to bed angry at him. "I did a lot of thinking during the night, darling. We both made the mistake. All we can do now is try to put it behind us, learn from it, and do our best not to let it happen again."
He frowned. "Sigrid thinks it'll do us some good."
"Maybe it will, but right now I'm not so sure."
They dressed slowly and Greg padded into the kitchen to make coffee while Karen showered. Then he dressed and went into the front room. At the door he was picking up the Sunday paper when the door to 5-B opened. Diana came out and turned toward him. She was alone.
She looked differently from the night before. No longer was she wearing an old shirt and jeans. She had on a child's miniskirt and a crisp white blouse. She looked as though she were on her way to Sunday school to sing in the choir. She squinted in the morning sunlight and chirped a hello to Greg.
He nodded. "You're right on time. Where's your mother?"
"Having another cup of coffee." She smiled more broadly. "Want to pop in and see her?"
Greg shook his head. "No, thanks. Come on, my wife's waiting to talk to you."
Karen was in the parlor. She had cleaned herself up, put her nightgown back on, and then she'd tied a white robe around herself. She looked sophisticated and sexy with her golden hair falling around her shoulders. She seemed very much in control of herself and Greg almost pitied poor Diana.
Karen waved at a chair and Diana sat in it. Greg remained by the front door, half out of the way. This wasn't his scene. "Where's your mother?"
"She'll be along. She thought I ought to talk to you alone first."
Karen shrugged. "I don't see why. Diana, you know you did wrong last night, don't you? You know we all did the wrong things. We behaved like animals."
Diana also shrugged. "I had a good time. I know Mr.
Eastman did, too. I thought you had a ball, personally. Maybe you think it's sinning but my mother says it's nature's way to have a good time with everybody loving each other. She says that when you two are together alone later you'll love each other better than ever before."
The kid made it sound so innocent that Greg was inclined to buy it. After all, the Taylors seemed to thrive on free love, among themselves and with their neighbors. If Sigrid missed her ex-husband, she gave no sign.
"It's still sinning," Karen insisted. "You are a little sinner. I am even more at fault because I am old enough to know better. But I behaved like a child."
Diana's lower hp went out in a sullen pout. "That's not what my mother says."
To hell with your mother!"
Diana leaped up and no longer did she look like the child she was. She looked like a tough adult masquerading in a child's costume. She marched up to Karen and thrust her small breasts toward her. "My mother is the wisest person in the world."
The most evil, you mean," Karen countered, and it was her turn to thrust her own breasts forward. They easily outmatched Diana's underdeveloped pair.
"Not true!" Diana blurted and she looked ready to cry.
Karen stepped closer to the girl, reasserting her seniority. She thrust her breasts again and they collided with Diana's thin chest. The younger girl bounced back and she began to backtrack until her buttocks came up against the back of a couch. She was halted and, as she leaned back, Karen leaned menacingly over her.
"I don't want any of you over here ever. And I don't want your mother seeing my husband. Ever. Is that clear? Will you take that message back to that...that person?" She was almost shouting into the small white face and Diana was clearly losing the battle. Who said the Taylors were so tough?
He thought the thoughts too soon, for something began to happen. Trapped, unable to retreat, Diana obviously decided to fight. Karen looked surprised when the child's lips began to curl in a smirk. It was very slight, but there was no doubt about it
Karen straightened. "What's so funny?"
"You are, Mrs. Eastman," Diana blurted, her voice close to laughter. "You're a hypocrite, you know that?"
"Me? What?" Karen snapped, but there was a faint note of uncertainty in her tone, as though she might be afraid the child had spotted a chink in her armor.
"You've had your fun. Now you want out. Well, it isn't that easy."
"It certainly is," Karen snapped. She pointed toward the door. "You can march out of here right now, and forever. And tell your mother what I said."
"I'm staying."
Karen stared. "For what reason?"
Again Diana was smirking, her green eyes flashing in some mysterious triumph. "I think you know why."
"Get out" Karen hissed and, in a blur, she drew back her hand and slapped the girl across the cheek. The impact was loud and Greg jumped, but he said nothing.
Diana gasped once, touched her red cheek, and then there was another blur. She'd drawn back her fist and launched a stiff punch into Karen's stomach. His wife gasped as the air swished out of her body and she staggered back, holding her belly with both hands.
Diana waited by the couch until the older woman had regained her breath and then Karen advanced again. She stopped as the two locked eyes. It was Diana who spoke first
"I think you know why I'm here. You know why I'm not going to leave for a little while."
Karen continued to stare, her blue eyes popping, her jaw working soundlessly. She turned once to stare at Greg, but he had no idea what was going on. He could only shrug and stare back. He might have been in the dark but, once again, his crotch seemed to have an insight. His prick began to rise. It was expecting a fresh spectacle of some sort. But what? Greg wondered. He sure as hell wasn't going to perform with Diana while Karen was in the house. What else could it be?
He found out soon enough. The child continued to smirk at the woman and the woman was shaking her head. "You're crazy. You're all crazy over there. Go back to your mother and tell her..."
"Why don't you go tell her, Mrs. Eastman?" Diana drawled, her voice high and even more child-like.
"I...I'm busy today. I have things to do."
Greg saw Diana's face change. The cheeks became more drawn in, the jaw more firm, the green eyes more hard and glittery. The face was more like Sigrid's than before-strong, menacing, unwavering.
"Go ahead, don't be afraid. You know what you want."
Karen was licking her lips and again she turned her head this way and that, as though looking for help. Diana took her by the shoulders, turned her around, and they exchanged places. Now Karen's bottom was trapped against the back of the couch and when she leaned back her hips jutted forward. It was Diana's turn to lean over her.
"Go ahead, I'll give you the same break my brother did. It's up to you to touch first."
Greg gasped. Jesus! So they were going to go through it again, but Diana was going to make Karen do it with her! He shook his head. Impossible. Karen might be attracted to a young boy, but to a young girl? Never!
But Karen was wringing her hands now, holding them before her defensively, as though she feared a frontal attack. But Diana, though she leaned over her older victim, kept her own hands linked behind her back. Instead she was thrusting with her budding breasts. Karen could have slapped or punched the child at will...but she did not.
Greg was shocked when he saw Karen's hands come up. They turned toward the child, looking like claws for a moment before they softened again. Then they were placed on Diana's cheeks, tenderly, holding that beautiful young face. Karen began to lean forward, her head tilted, and Greg expected them to kiss. But at the last instant Karen whipped her hands away and turned her face to the side.
"Still too modest?" Diana teased. "All right, I'll take the lead."
She straightened Karen's face in her own hands now and when she leaned forward Karen went back so that her hips jutted still more. The two females were touching hips now, and Diana gently wormed her middle back and forth, raking her bony hips over Karen s unprotected crotch. It was certain to start a fire down there, Greg knew from experience.
Diana's face came close and Karen's eyes were wide open as the child kissed her full on the lips. She held the kiss, a long and tender experience, for a full minute before she lifted her mouth from the older woman's.
"like that?"
"I hated it!"
"Sure, that's why you struggled so much," Diana giggled. "Come on, we have a way to go."
"No."
"Yes." Diana said the word as though she were trying to make a backward student understand her grammar lesson.
Again she kissed Greg's wife and this time she allowed her hands to drop from the older woman's cheeks to her throat. She gently held that throat, still pushing with her body, still grinding slowly with her hips. Greg could imagine the friction building the mutual heat down there. Diana was as excited as Karen, only she willingly recognized it and was allowing herself to fully enjoy the experience.
Again Karen shot a frantic glance at Greg and he wondered for a moment whether he should step in. No, he decided it wasn't his fight. If Diana had been holding Karen prisoner with physical force it would be different. But she was holding her with her sexual attraction and Karen would need to cope with that, to turn away or break down and enjoy.
Greg, shoving his hard-on down between his legs, rather hoped his wife would enjoy the experience. Total sex among women and men was a desirable goal, he had decided. He knew damned well they were both learning, and he knew that when the element of true husband and wife love was injected into their sexual passion, well...they'd see stars like they hadn't seen since the honeymoon.
So he remained by the front door and watched and, as he watched, his prick grew until it was secreting its lubricant down the insides of his thighs. He knew if he got much hotter he'd simply go off in his pants, something he hadn't done since he'd been a hot-blooded high school boy.
He squinted as Diana again kissed his wife, those young lips moving tenderly. All right, so what was wrong with a tender love kiss between two women? Karen wasn't being hurt, and it might unlock her sexual hang-ups all the more.
But then Greg watched those grinding hips. They were still on the move, very slowly in their back and forth motion, but paced in a primitive rhythm that was certain to get results.
And Diana's hands were still on his wife's throat, holding her head in place, not letting her pull away. Karen's eyes were half closed now, as though she were giving up to this concentrated sexual treatment.
Then Diana went a step farther, a big step. Her hands slipped down that white throat and into the bodice of the filmy white negligee.
Greg heard a sound. It was his own gasp.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He didn't want to believe it. Was it going to be last night all over again? Was this shrimp of a girl going to do to his own wife what the boy had done next door? Where would they draw the line? Surely Karen couldn't allow herself to be seduced by another woman!
Greg leaned hard against the front door as he watched. He hated his hard-on, but there was nothing he could do about it. The game was another exciting prospect and he had to see it all. But why did he get so worked up sexually? What was in him that wanted to watch another contest of sexual wills?
He tried to shrug it off. He didn't have any answers anyhow, except that he hoped some good would come of all this. The ultimate test would come later, when he and Karen were alone long enough to make love themselves, as man and wife. If that worked better than it had in the last several months then they both will have learned that there is good in evil.
Good in this particular evil, at any rate. He blinked at the two women as they moved on in their cobra and mongoose contest.
Diana's hands went more deeply into the negligee and in a few seconds they'd scooped out a plump, white breast. It was a beautiful thing, and Greg could appreciate Diana's gasp of pleasure. It was full, unlined, and the nipple was a cherry red that morning, looking fresh and rested, ready for any adventure which might befall it
"Goodness me," Diana half whispered. "I guess I wasn't paying enough attention last night. It's really groovy."
"You saw too much last night, young lady," Karen snapped, and she was trying to be the stem mother type. But it wasn't working. There was no conviction in her voice. Diana had taken charge and everybody in the room knew it
"I sure learned a lot," Diana whispered. "A whole lot You're a very pretty lady and you sure got a lot going for you inside that body. Real stamina. The coach at high school would love you."
Karen tried once more to squirm away, but Diana held fast to the breast until Karen winced in pain. She didn't really put up a fight Instead she was leaning hard against the back of the couch, her hips still angled forward, her arms back along the couch to serve as props. She was fully exposed and she seemed helpless to know how to protect herself.
Diana lay the heavy breast in her small palm and she was barely able to contain it. It wanted to spill over either side. But as Diana rolled it back and forth the breast filled even more and became plump and firm. It retained its round shape after that, the nipple easing itself out from the cone of white flesh that surrounded it.
The child leaned down and placed her lips on the breast. The stifled gasp came from Karen, but she wasn't able to stifle it completely. Her hand went to her mouth and she bit her knuckles as the child pursed her lips and kissed the breast. She parted her lips and took in the nipple, letting it ease into her mouth as though it were a miniature penis.
Diana gurgled with pleasure as she sucked on the nipple, her body still swishing back and forth. She was loving it, loving the fact that this larger, older, adult woman was hers to do with as she pleased. She must have been filled with a great feeling of power, Greg realized. Her movements became more aggressive, more confident by the minute as she nursed on the breast.
It was Karen who made the next move. Gently she touched Diana's ears, at last easing the young face up from her breast. Then Karen, with her own hands, reached down into her bodice to produce the other breast. She smiled and offered it to her little friend as a gift, and Diana accepted it willingly.
The child shifted her face and that little rosebud mouth came down over the other nipple. She held the breast in both hands, and under her gentle massage it swiftly assumed the size and firmness of its twin. Karen rolled her eyes toward Greg, vague apology in her eyes.
Tm sorry, darling, but you know how it is."
Greg nodded. Somehow he didn't feel ashamed anymore. "Of course. Enjoy. Learn. Come back to me a better person."
I'll try, darling. You know I will."
Diana nursed from one breast to the other, taking her time, doing a thorough job on each before she at last lifted her face. "Did you like that?"
"Of course."
"Then what about me?"
Karen's hands fluttered. She wasn't accustomed to being the aggressor, but she did want to do her share now. She wanted to show her appreciation. Greg knew his wife well enough to figure out all that. She bit her lip and then she carefully turned Diana around. Her fingers found the zipper at the back of the child's neck, and she pulled it all the way down to the girl's waist
Both Karen and Greg were surprised somewhat to see that Diana wore a bra, but then it fit her little girl costume, a costume Sigrid had put the child into to make her appear innocent and even more young than she was. Greg believed he knew how Sigrid thought and he believed he'd figured out this ploy. It had been Diana's role this morning to put the make on Karen and she'd succeeded admirably.
Still working carefully, Karen turned Diana back toward her. Then she pulled gently at the child's shoulders, working her fingers under the long coppery hair and plucking the blouse down over her upper arms. The girl had pretty tanned shoulders, very thin, but nicely formed.
The girl stood obediently before Karen as the blouse was slipped down her arms. She lifted her hands as Karen pulled each sleeve free. Then the garment was eased from her body. The chaste white bra was lifting up and down faster now as the girl's breathing increased
They looked at that bra. It was nicely packed. Diana was growing up by the day-by the hour even, it seemed. She was more mature every time Greg looked at her. Her breasts had become swollen, of course, and they were pressing hard against their confining bra.
Karen reached under the girl's arms and around to the center of her back. There she easily opened the catch and the bra surged forward. It fell down the girl's arms and to the carpet at their feet, where the blouse had already plunged in a heap.
Ever the tidy housewife, Karen knelt and picked up the garments. She folded them and placed them on the other side of the couch. Then she turned back to Diana. She looked at the budding breasts with their virginal nipples, those two spots that seemed so fresh and innocent.
"You're a beautiful child, Diana," she purred, "and you're going to be a glamorous woman."
"Sure, sure," Diana rasped as her voice changed suddenly.
"What?"
"Come on, get on with it. Do your job, Mrs. Eastman. I didn't come here for a briefing. Come on, do me up good."
Karen licked her lips, flushed and glanced once at Greg. "Well, of course, but I thought you'd like to hear I'd like your mitts on my knockers. Everybody here seems to know that except you. Don't bother with the sales pitch. I know God-damned well how good I am and how much better I'm gonna be."
"Well...as you wish."
She placed her hands on the young breasts, gently, putting each palm under their undersides and then lifting. They came up nicely. There was bulk in them and there would be more. She dropped her thumbs to each nipple and pushed them as though they were doorbells. Greg imagined he could hear them ringing for joy.
Diana lips opened and she smiled. "There, isn't that real good?"
Karen nodded as though she'd become the child. "Just wonderful, my little girl."
She removed her thumbs, but she kept her hands under the breasts, lifting them up into position as she leaned down and placed her lips on one nipple and then the other. Diana shuddered at that, her hands making two fists, and she lifted her chin high. Her eyes stared at the ceiling as her mouth curled in a smile of sublime satisfaction.
Karen kissed back and forth. Then she placed both hands on the child's right breast. She lifted it exactly as she wanted it and then she took the entire end of the breast into her mouth. She sucked greedily and with some noise. Greg felt his cock lurch in excitement at the sound and the sight. Christ, Karen was going to pull the girl inside out.
She lifted her head and went after the other breast. Again she slurped noisily as she pulled white and pink flesh past her teeth. He could imagine that tongue swishing back and forth, rasping those nipples, driving Diana out of her little girl's mind.
At last Karen's golden head came up and she smiled fully into Diana's face. "There. Was that nice?"
Diana seemed weakened and at peace, almost as though she were going to swoon. "Neat for me. For you?"
"Well, I guess I'm getting with it." She nodded at Greg. "I'm turned on, darling. Just fun, that's all. No hang-ups, no terrible guilts. I'm just having a good time."
"Wonderful" Greg called.
Diana leaned forward, placing Karen's hands back on the edge of the couch. She covered the older woman's hands with her own, and she put her hips once again against Karen's. Slowly she ground back and forth again. Christ, Greg thought, that would be driving Karen out of her mind. That was how the girl was really breaking her down, turning her on, making her forget all about conscience.
And Karen had forgotten. Her head was rolling, her eyes also rolling up in her head. She was smiling as though she'd been fed drugs. She didn't care, Greg knew, just so she thoroughly enjoyed herself, just so she could forget her Puritan background from here on out and be a totally sexy female. He suspected she was over the hump on that score.
Now Diana was stepping back. She was untying Karen's white robe and parting it wide. Then she was removing it and gently tossing it over the back of the couch. She looked up and down that body which was only in its gossamer nightgown now. Karen's bobbing breasts were still exposed over the top of the lacy bodice, but even the rest of her could almost be seen through the material.
Greg had always considered the shimmering white thing Karen's most sexy nightgown, and he now realized that she'd put it on last night before getting into their own bed. Even though she'd been terribly tired and perhaps distraught at her sexual performance in 5-B, she'd still turned to that nightgown.
He figured it was some instinct that made her do it She knew she'd turned the sexual corner and she was going on with the correct image. She wanted to look sexy, even when she'd had more than enough. He wondered if he should have tried to put the make on her the night before.
He shuddered at the thought They were both so bushed. Still, perhaps he might have done something.. .
But now he watched as Diana leaned down and began lifting the nightgown. She eased the hem up over Karen's tanned and smooth thighs. Then she had it up over her crotch and they both looked into his wife's golden thatch. It was as beautiful and bright as ever. Nobody would ever guess that it had been so abused the night before.
The child lifted the nightgown up over Karen's head and she then draped it over the outside wrapper. Karen was naked and she made no attempt to cover herself. Instead she stood, still leaning against the couch, her hips angled forward invitingly. Diana licked her lips.
"You are a real pretty lady, Mrs. Eastman."
"I think I'm beginning to realize that," Karen replied with a low and seductive laugh.
The girl was working faster now. She lowered her head and kissed those pointing nipples once again. They were ready, primed, and Greg could almost hear the tingling ripple through Karen's body. He saw her flush of pleasure and he knew from experience that she was almost ready for an orgasm.
The girl's sweet young lips went down over Karen's belly. Karen sucked it in sharply but, when Diana waited with patience, the belly came out again. The pink tongue went into her navel, and then it went even lower, into the top of her stiff pubic forest. There the mouth and tongue wormed about for several minutes.
The girl's sweet young lips went down over Karen's blue eyes. Green eyes met blue eyes for a long minute. "Are you all ready, Mrs. Eastman?"
"I'm ready, my little darling."
The girl's coppery head plunged into the golden thatch and, mouth open, tongue out, it headed straight for Karen's cunt. Her lips were already puffy and glistening as her body prepared itself for the final act. The child's aim was perfect and her lips closed over the gaping cunt. The tongue lanced out an instant before contact so that Greg could catch sight of it lancing directly up into that box.
Karen shuddered and cried out and she wrapped her arms around Diana's head, hugging her to herself, pressing that young face all the way home. Indeed, she looked as though she were trying to push the entire head up into her womb, as though she were giving birth in reverse.
Diana shoved herself in as hard as she could, and as Karen's thighs came up to wrap themselves around that head, her feet, of course, left the floor. But she was sitting on the back of the couch now and her balance was perfect. She hugged that coppery head, and her hips began to slam into it with a fury Greg hadn't known she possessed.
Then she was coming, crying out in a high thin voice that wouldn't penetrate the apartment walls. She was lifting her face to heaven, her mouth wide open, her golden hair tousled. She shuddered as though she were taking physical blows to her body...time after time after time.. .
At last she slumped and she let her head roll over on top of Diana's back. The htde girl extricated herself, pushed Karen's feet back to the floor, and then she helped her senior partner regain her balance. Karen stood, knees still wobbling, as Diana peered intently into her face.
"All right now?"
Karen nodded. "Except for you."
Diana giggled. "Now, at last you're getting the picture. You've become a member of the team. All right, go your best, Mrs. Eastman"
Karen struggled to get control of herself, squaring her shoulders and then blinking rapidly until she was able to focus her eyes. She smiled over at Greg.
"How'm I doing, honey?"
"Great," he called, and he meant it He'd already had a small orgasm of his own and he could feel the soggy stuff in his pants.
But Karen was going to work now. She fiddled with the waist of Diana's skirt until she'd opened it. It fell to the carpet. Then she rolled down the chaste white panties until the girl stepped out of them with dainty movements. Karen folded the things and placed them to one side.
Now Diana stood before her, naked and beautiful in her youthful innocence. Her hips were beginning to flare, Greg noticed again, her breasts to burgeon, her belly to take on its first mature roundness. She was truly beautiful and he wanted to step in and take her himself.
But he watched as Karen dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around that slim and tight bottom. Then she rested her forehead against the belly. Her lips were pursed and they kissed the navel, the tongue drilling into its depths until Diana began to shudder much as Karen had done.
Then Karen was working down into that sparse coppery pubic area, parting the hairs with her pointed tongue and then placing her lips fully on the young pussy. Diana shuddered again as though she'd been kicked in the stomach. So did Greg. He was going off in his pants and he couldn't make himself hold back.
He watched Karen kiss that cunt and then shove her tongue inside, just as Diana had done to her. It was a fair exchange and both women were going crazy with sexual joy. They were shaking, occasionally giggling, staggering together. Diana got a tight hold on Karen's golden head and kept that face where she wanted it to be.
The young girl came almost at once, expending her youthful energy with a sudden gush of juices so that Karen's face came up dripping. Diana was weak for an instant, but her strength came back. Karen was on her feet and the women were embracing like true lovers.
They stepped apart, holding hands, and both looked toward Greg. He slowly clapped his hands, but they were looking down at his crotch.
"See? He digs us."
Indeed he does," Karen murmured. "Let's see how much he digs us."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Greg looked down at himself. Yes, his crotch was stained and there was no way he could hide it. He looked up in time to see the two women coming to him. They came in close where he stood at the door.
"Poor baby," Diana murmured and she plucked daintily at his pants, trying to pull them away from his thighs.
He stared at the two naked bodies. Was he living one of his erotic dreams? Two women, both bare-assed, both looking at him as though he were something in a candy store window.
He leaned against the door as Karen said, "Here, I know what our baby needs."
She plucked at his belt, got it open and then Diana's delicate fingers pulled at his zipper. It slid down at once and his prick, still hard, came lancing out to point at them like the barrel of a pistol.
"Golly," Diana purred. The young girl began to unbutton his shirt and she tugged it from his pants. Then she was slipping it over his shoulders and tossing it to one side. He noticed a soggy spot on the tail of the shirt. He'd really given himself a pretty good ride-just from watching.
Karen was pulling at his pants and they began to slip down over his hips and thighs. His soggy shorts came with the pants and everything fell heavily to the floor. Diana knelt and began tugging at his shoes. It was terribly exciting to see the young girl kneeling at his feet that way. He bit his hp as his prick assumed full hardness all over again.
His shoes were tossed out of the way, and the women helped him keep his balance as he lifted one leg and then the other from his clothing. Diana swept it all out of the way.
They stared at one another for a moment or two. All naked, all shaking in their excitement, all eager to continue with their fun. Then Diana was looking at Karen, her eyes raised in a silent question.
"You go ahead, honey," Karen purred, touching her little playmate on the elbow. "You've earned our full hospitality. You all have."
Greg stood like a statue as Diana ran her hands up around his shoulders. She linked her fingers behind his neck and pulled herself tightly against him. He could feel his prick rake across her belly and protrude to one side as she bent it at right angles.
Again she was swishing her hips, much as she had done with Karen. The Idd was an expert, taught by an expert-her mother. She moved her slim hips slowly back and forth as she smiled up into his face. Then, with her lips open, she kissed him on the mouth. Her tongue came out to shoot into his mouth where it swished around with wild abandon.
Greg lifted his face to catch his breath, and then he felt hands on his cock. They were closing over the knob. He saw it was Karen, for Diana was still holding her hands up around his neck.
As Diana swished, Karen stroked, until Greg felt his rebuilding supply of sperm begin to bubble and then boil. "Take it easy. I'm almost home," he muttered.
"You are home, darling," Karen purred as she sank her teeth into his naked shoulder. "This is our home and I have a feeling we're going to be doing a lot of entertaining here from now on. The Taylors, somebody from the office perhaps, then the Taylors again, then somebody else from the office.. . "
Diana giggled as she turned her head. "You sure serve good food over here, Mrs. Eastman."
"We aim to please," Karen said as she matched the younger girl's giggle.
Greg could only blow out his cheeks as they tugged him away from the door. Then they were leading him to the couch where they sat him down heavily. Before he'd stopped bouncing Diana was swarming over him. She was up on the couch, on her knees, ramming them into his side as she leaned over his head. She cradled the head like it was a football as she began to French him all over again.
When he put his hands up to fend her off long enough for him to catch his breath, he felt Karen diving into his crotch. She had seized his prick once again, pressing it up against his stomach. Then she rummaged underneath it until she'd found his balls.
He gasped as he felt her warm breath on his crotch, going under his cock and then full into his hairs. He felt the hairs move and then lips fastening themselves on his sack. Karen was nibbling on them, worming the loose folds of skin about between her teeth.
He almost cried out, but he didn't want to bring any unwelcome neighbors on the run. Instead he gasped a few breaths of precious air and then let his women continue their game.
Diana moved her rubbling lips to a hundred places: his face, his ears, his neck, his throat, down across his chest to his nipples. She didn't miss a square inch of exposed flesh. She worked down to where her head ran into Karen's and the two women looked up and giggled at one another.
Greg was happy for the brief respite, but they were right back at him all over again. Karen was rummaging in his crotch with her hands and then her face. Diana was worming under him until she was able to reach his bottom. He lifted himself and in a split second she had a finger stuck up his bung.
He gasped as she hooked another finger up inside him and then another. As much to escape her maddening massage as anything else, he lifted himself from the couch by pressing down with both hands. As he did so Karen increased her attack on his crotch. They had him cornered.
He gasped as the hard-working pair struggled to take every inch of his body into their mouths or their hands at the same time. At last he could hold back no longer.
Tm going to come," he rasped. "You have been given fair warning!"
Diana and Karen looked at each other. Then they agreed to share. Each knelt in front of him, their heads pressed together as they peered into his crotch like two birds on a branch. His prick was huge and waving back and forth.
Diana tentatively stroked it with a single finger, working very slowly, but it was enough to set off his hair trigger. He began to come in great milky globs. The first hit Karen in the left cheek and rolled down to the corner of her mouth where she licked at it
He shifted and his second spurt struck Diana full on the nose and it too, ran heavily down to her mouth where she licked and drew in her breath to capture more. They were like two kids in an exploding ice cream sundae factory.
Greg came again, each time shifting his aim, and soon he was hitting each woman fully in the mouth. He shot time after time until his strength waned, and then he lost his prick power. He fell back on the couch, his head tilted far back so that his fluttering eyes stared up at the ceiling.
The two women slumped over him and it was Diana who spoke first. "God! Some kind of man!"
"Thank you," Karen purred, her voice filled with pride. She was making it known that, ultimately, Greg belonged to her first and foremost
He smiled at the ceiling because it was good news. He wanted to belong to her...
* * *
He leaned over her as she sat at the kitchen table, and his hands slipped inside the neckline of her low-cut dress. "Honey..
"Keep quiet," he commanded, and he kept shoving his hands deeper until he had managed to cup her breasts. He lifted them and they came bobbing out over the top of her bodice. They were as gorgeous as ever, white, heavy, tipped with twin cherries. Karen was the perfect woman.
"But I don't know if I can make it again. I'm getting sore down around my pussy, you know? I don't think I have enough strength to go the route."
Greg chuckled. "Just one more time."
"Well.. . "
"Tell you what. We'll go next door and take another lesson from the Amazon and her two miracle children. Surely they have a few more tricks up their sleeves they haven't told us about."
She brightened at that. "All right. I think we're very close to graduation, but they might be able to give us a few postgraduate seminars."
He shoved his thumbs into her nipples until she slapped his hands away. "If you're going to keep doing that we'll never get over there."
Greg sighed. "All right, let's go."
Karen wiggled her breasts back inside the bodice-she wore no bra, of course-never did anymore, and then she got up. She turned to him and they kissed, his hands cupping the cheeks of her bottom as their lips clung.
They marched to the door and as they walked he kept sticking his thumb along the crack of her bottom.
"Honey" she repeated time after time as she looked back over her shoulder. "You're an animal these days."
"And you love it."
They went outside and along the corridor to the door of 5-B where Greg lifted his hand to knock. He saw the note just before he was going to tap. They pulled it from where it was tucked behind the knob and, unfolding it, they squinted at the scrawled message:
* * *
Eastmans-If it's you, come on inside. The door's unlocked. All others keep away.-Sigrid Taylor.
* * *
They looked at one another and then Greg tried the door. It was indeed unlocked and opened easily. He opened it all the way and stepped aside so that Karen could slip past him. As she did so he goosed her one more time and she reached back to slap at his hand. They called out, but there was no answer. Then they saw the second note on the coffee table. They went to it at once and read it
* * *
Karen and Greg-We've decided that it's time you two had some time alone together. Use the lessons we've taught you and we'll be back in a few days to find out whether or not you were good students. Feel free to use our little family gym. It's always worked well for us.-Sigrid and the Kids.
* * *
Karen looked up into his face and he smiled down at her. "It's plain what they want. They want us to totally switch on to each other. They want to make sure we don't get more hooked on them than we do to one another." He nodded, his gaze far away. "That Sigrid is a pretty damned special broad."
Karen had to agree. "They're all special. Imagine, being such nice people at the same time that they're so totally switched on to sex. Usually the two don't go together."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's your Victorianism talking. You don't really know, do you?"
Karen giggled as she snuggled against him, shaking her head. "No, except that we're another exception. We're nice people and we're crazy about sex...with each other or with anybody who thinks he can keep up with us."
"Stop talking. The Taylors left their orders. We're supposed to have a good time alone...together."
"What they don't realize is that we have been having fun," Karen continued, "since that first weekend they began to teach us."
"Kindly shut up and deal."
She followed orders, opening his shirt and then his pants. Her hands dipped inside to haul out his prick. It was limp for several seconds but as her fingers worked their magic it at once tightened up.
He had her skirt dropping to her knees seconds later and his hands went straight to her panty-less crotch. She gasped as he parted the hairs and headed up her slick canal of passion.
"Oh...darling."
"I'm the best."
"Of course you are...and as for me?"
"You, too. The super best. We're a family team first." Greg laughed deeply in his throat. "But people like the Taylors will always be welcome in our little nest"