HOW much is enough? This is a question often asked, sometimes jokingly, sometimes seriously. It more often pertains to material possessions than emotional fulfillment, and the essence of the question runs the gamut from the needs of the ascetic who rejects almost all material possessions as sinful or enslaving to the other end of the spectrum exemplified by the glutton, the power-crazed dictator, the hedonist, the miser. To the ascetic, almost anything is too much; to the emotionally or materialistically greedy, everything is not enough.
Most of us fall somewhere in between the two extremes, finding in different times and places, too much of this or too little of that: food, perhaps, or drink... or sex. Many authors have portrayed characters tormented by greed. One thinks of George Eliot's Silas Marner or Frank Norris's McTeague, to name but two. And there is the famous section of Petronius's Satyricon dealing with Trimalchio's banquet.
Now, author Jackson Robard has presented a new novel, The Straying Housewife, dealing with the materialistic and emotional greed of a woman who find herself dissatisfied with what she has in life. For Isabel Miller, enough is not enough. Her husband, Bill, loves her, and they appear to have an ideal marriage and a happy family life. But Mr. Robard details the events which, little by little, gnaw away at the security of her life. Step by fatal step, Isabel Miller allows herself to be consumed by the gluttonous desires of her own carnal appetites. She learns, in the words of Sir Walter Scott, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!" From a loving devoted wife, she becomes an adulteress who lies to and deceives her husband.
Like the dog with the bone in Aesop's simple fable, Isabel Miller drops the satisfaction she has, and, in grasping for the shadowy promise of a greater satisfaction, she creates her own hell - a hell where she is very much alone, for while many men will possess her body, none can ever (or will ever wish to) have her completely or call her their own. And Isabel Miller finds herself trapped in a hell of her own creation where nothing can ever be enough.
We, the publishers, are certain that the mature adult reader will welcome this penetrating novel as an educational insight into one aspect of our contemporary mores.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Conscious of her husband Bill's gentle grip on her bare biceps, Isabel Miller lifted her drink to her lips and took a sip of scotch, her flashing eyes drifting slowly over the young men and women lounging about the luxurious parlor. For a moment her eyes focused on a tall muscular man of thirty with longish blond hair who stood chatting with their hostess, Eileen Tropper. So that's Jack O'Niel, she thought with a twinge of appreciation or even envy, instinctively recognizing her friend Carrol's newest boyfriend from her description.
"He looks like a conceited snob," Isabel remarked half to herself.
"What?" Bill asked.
"He looks like a conceited snob. That's Carrol's new flame. But then most swimmers are, the men, I mean," she was adding as the blond headed man suddenly sensed he was being observed, lifted his head in the manner of a dog that has picked a scent on the air and turned to stare straight into Isabel's eyes. They looked at each other in silence, a pulsing kind of silence that spanned the space between them and was profound, as though it superseded the din of conversation that filled the room. She watched the movement at the corner of his mouth as his lips began to twist toward a smile. She started to smile herself. Then instead she turned abruptly away and leaned toward her husband, pressing her lithe shapely body playfully against him, rubbing the tips of her upthrust breasts against his chest.
"I suppose Carrol will be introducing him to you," Bill said.
She shrugged and drank. "I suppose." She turned slowly, her gaze again panning over the informal gathering of people though now she scrupulously avoided the eyes of Jack O'Niel, that were still fixed rigidly upon her though their hostess had raised her voice and was obviously vying for his attention. "Maybe it will pick up," she said absently. "I feel like dancing."
Bill Miller let his hand slip from his wife's arm. He trailed it lightly down her back on the outside of the black cocktail dress she wore, then downed half his own drink and also looked around. "It's still early," he said, but Isabel didn't reply. Already she'd started to move away and now in silence he watched her go, her slender body swaying musically as she walked. It was going to be a long night, he thought. But things doubtless would pick up, for Isabel at least. Sometimes Bill wondered why he even bothered to come to these parties they were always invited to on the weekend. Not that he didn't like to drink, and to be around people - it was just that nothing really ever happened. There was lots of small talk and flirting, for the most part banal and meaningless, and he would have much preferred just a night out with one other couple with whom they could talk about things more important than parlor room trivia that dominated these occasions.
But that was where he and Isabel had always been different. Bill was, as he would be the first to admit, a serious quiet type. Isabel was outgoing and flirtatious. She needed attention, lots of attention, and he appreciated the fact that it was more than just her good looks that drew people to her and made her always the center of interest. He understood that need and was generally tolerant of it. He had long ago concluded that though the basic difference in their natures made them an unlikely couple, they were because of the variance between them a powerful combination together.
Halfway across the room Isabel paused and turned back toward Bill, who had not followed her and who stood now where she had left him, pensively sipping his drink, looking slowly over the crowd with his familiar disdainful scowl. By midnight he would be drunk, she thought to herself. He would be silently and almost imperceptibly drunk, and with that control he always manifested no one but her would even know. Then finally he would have had enough and she would have had far too much, though that fact would be known only by everyone but her, and he would take her home, protesting, cursing perhaps, threatening him, yet all the time knowing that really it was exactly what she wanted. Even as she complained she would snuggle into the security of his determination. And by the time they were there, naked, snuggled together in bed, her protest would have ended, the party would be forgotten, and they would make love and be together, just the two of them, as though it was just the two of them in the whole world.
Bill looked at her suddenly, sensing, as Jack O'Niel had sensed a moment ago, that he was being watched. Their eyes met and after a moment he smiled and came over to her.
"Do you want to dance?" she said. "No"
"I didn't think so."
"You go ahead," he said. "Take off your dress if you want. That will liven things up."
"Sometime I might do that."
"I wouldn't be surprised," he said. Then his eyes strayed from hers and she turned to see that Eileen Tropper was approaching them. And past Eileen she saw Jack O'Niel, if it was in fact him, standing still where he was and still watching her.
"Hello, kids. Glad you could come."
"It's simply a marvelous party," Isabel said.
Eileen put her hands on her waist and pretended to glare. As she did so Bill casually observed her breasts, revealed by her fashionably low-cut gown. They were bigger than Isabel's, milk-white, but not nearly so firm. He could almost see the pink coronas of her nipples and he wondered what it would be like going to bed with her. Not that it would ever happen. This just wasn't that kind of set, for all the small talk and teasing. And it never would be. Oh maybe there was a little behind-the-scenes adultery. There must be that everywhere. But it wouldn't ever come out in the open in this group. And even behind the scenes it would never be Eileen and himself. Then he wondered, absently, what he would do if he found out his wife was having an affair.
"Come on," Eileen said. "I want to introduce you to a stranger. He used to be an Olympic swimmer and I told him you were on a swimming team in college and he said he wanted to meet you."
"Male swimmers are egomaniacs," said Isabel, looking again at Jack O'Niel. Now for certain it was Jack O'Niel. "And he wasn't an Olympic swimmer anyway. He tried out for the team but didn't make it."
"What difference does it make? Come on. He's a dream." She took Isabel's arm and tugged her. "You too, Bill. You'll like him too."
Carrol Haynes emerged at that moment from the kitchen door. She was a small, big-breasted blonde, very good looking, though Bill always thought her the kind of woman who would look perpetually the easiest lay at the party. For that matter, she probably would be the easiest lay at this one. He'd thought about it, in fact. Isabel's best friend. He thought about it only when he was very drunk and sullen and Isabel had a string of horny men following her around. But it would never happen. It was just a fantasy. And now, watching Carrol's eyes shift from Isabel to Eileen to the blond guy against the far wall, then back to Eileen, he sensed that Carrol was realizing that she was about to have her own big moment usurped.
She intercepted them at the middle of the room. "No you don't," she hissed at Eileen, though playfully, then took Isabel's hand in her own. "Come on, Isabel. Let me introduce you to my fiance." She said that and shot another sharp glance at Eileen, who along with Bill had fallen slightly behind.
"Fiance?" said Isabel.
Carrol leaned closed against her as they walked. "Well, almost. We talked about it this afternoon. But don't say anything yet." She looked over her shoulder. "Come on, Bill. I want to introduce you to Jack. You guys are going to have to be friends, you know."
She winked. Eileen stopped and they moved away from her. Looking back, Bill saw she had gone over to the record player and was looking through the stack of albums. So much for the Tijuana Brass. Then, looking forward again, he saw Carrol's fianc''s clear cold blue eyes fixed on Isabel's. He saw the beginning of a grin that played on his lips, almost like a smirk. Moving forward, he saw Isabel glaring back. If she had smiled he wouldn't have minded. She always smiled. She was by habit as easy to meet as a puppy. Looking at Carrol, he realized she saw the difference too. Her lips were trembling as she made the introductions. Isabel shook hands and nodded. She tried to draw her hand away and he held to it. Bill started to move, but he didn't. He knew she didn't want him to. On the record player the music changed to rock and roll.
"Let's dance," said Jack O'Niel. He looked at Bill. "You don't mind, do you?"
"No," Isabel said, but he still held her hand.
"I don't mind," Bill said without knowing why he'd said it.
Isabel looked at him suddenly, her eyes widening, then narrowing almost to slits. She turned and let Jack O'Niel lead her by her hand, which he still held, to a clearing Eileen was making in the center of the room. Her body brushed his casually as they went there. When she turned, profiled to Bill, he saw that now she was smiling. He looked at Carrol as they began to dance. He saw the alarm in her eyes.
* * *
They drove home at midnight, following the moonlit highway along the beach back into the small ocean-side town south of L.A. where they'd bought their house. For more than half the distance they rode in silence, Bill focusing his attention on the driving, Isabel sitting rigidly in her seat beside him. Then, as they neared town, he sighed.
"Why did you decide to leave?" he asked.
"I thought you were ready to go. I always have to drag you."
She said nothing. She looked straight ahead, and she remembered Jack O'Niel's hands on her body, the way he held her close as they danced, the way he looked into her eyes as they'd talked on the terrace and she'd waited for him to kiss her and he hadn't.
"It was because of Carrol's friend," Bill said.
"What?"
"You wanted to leave because of O'Niel."
"No. I wanted to leave because I wanted to make love to you."
"Oh," Bill said and sighed again. A moment later they passed the cove and the lights of the town appeared before them. He braked as they passed the city limits marker and turned off onto the winding road that led to their house, then pulled into the drive and stopped. He turned off the ignition and twisted in his seat to look over at his wife, who was watching him silently. "You didn't even get drunk, did you?"
"No," she said. "And you're drunker than usual. I know. Your left eyelid is drooping." Suddenly she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. "You're not too drunk to make love?"
Bill shook his head.
"Then come on," she said, turning away suddenly and opening the door. The sensuous brunette got quickly out of the car and rushed up the walk to the door, her heart pounding wildly in her breasts. She had a tingling feeling between her thighs, a gnawing need deep up in her belly, and all through the cat and mouse game that she and Carrol's "fiance" had played tonight at the part she could think of nothing but the time the night would end and she could be back home with Bill, naked in bed with him, relieving the hunger that tormented her in the way no one but him had ever been able to do. She had felt tonight as if she were flirting with catastrophe, or at least danger. Oddly, it hadn't felt all that different from the feelings she'd experienced seven years ago, when she was eighteen and innocent, and first getting serious with Bill. But that had happened in its place. This foolish play with Jack O'Niel was very out of place, an accident or something, she still didn't really know, and she felt a desperate compulsion to get things sorted back out.
Breathing heavily, Isabel moved through the foyer and down the hall to the bedroom as she heard Bill getting out of the car and slamming the door on the driver's side. She pitched her purse into a chair and turned to face herself in the long dresser mirror. She stared coldly for a moment into her own black, now angry eyes, then slowly raised her arms, arching her half-revealed breasts as she removed the beret that held her long black hair in place and let it spill suddenly down over her bare shoulders. Then, just as Bill appeared in the door, she reached behind her back to undo the snap at the top of her dress, drawing the zipper quickly down before shedding the string straps from her shoulders to let it drop away loosely down her thighs, leaving her naked except for her flimsy bikini panties, garter belt and dark-knit nylon hose.
Conscious of her husband's eyes on her, Isabel stared silently at herself in the mirror, her gaze moving slowly over her naked torso and the still proudly upstanding mounds of her breasts with the almost mauve-colored nipples peaking to instantly tingling rigidity. Then she let her gaze fall lower, down over the sleek plane of her belly and the dark little hole of her navel, down to the low hanging silken panties, near transparent so that through them she could just distinguish the shadowy V-shaped triangle of her black pubic hair nestled so invitingly between her sensuous slender thighs. She stared at her nakedness fixedly, almost hungrily, her awareness of her sex appeal only serving to increase the desire raging through her loins.
In the doorway Bill frowned. Jesus, Isabel really was hot tonight. She was always demanding after a party. But there was something different in her attitude tonight. And though it troubled him, he felt an instantaneous stirring of desire in his loins manifested by a restless hardening of his cock in his trousers. The room was illuminated by only a soft lamp, casting a warm glow over the lush curves of Isabel's naked torso. Her nipples were peaked rigidly hard and he wanted to kiss and suck them. He wanted to kiss and suck over every inch of her naked body and without waiting another moment he moved quickly forward, coming up behind her to reach beneath her arms and cup both her full upstanding breasts in his hand before he turned her and stooped to cover one of the nipples with his lips and sink his teeth hungrily into the taut little bud, his tongue whipping teasingly over the sensitive tip.
"Ooooooooh," Isabel purred, looking down through narrowed eyes at the manipulations of her husband's lips and tongue on the tingling and swollen little nipple.
Again briefly she recalled the vaguely remembered feeling of danger she'd experienced the first time she'd allowed him to do this to her. Now that seemed so long ago, yet somehow that feeling had been recalled tonight at the party when she was dancing and flirting with her best girlfriend's fiance, and it seemed she felt more aware of her body and her sexuality than she had in a long time. She was trembling all over and the sensation of her husband's lips kissing and sucking her hard little nipples made her whole aroused body shudder with tingling sensuality as she felt the acutely maddening waves of pleasure pouring through her flesh.
She couldn't deny that she'd been excited by her encounter with Jack O'Niel. And if that was wrong, soon everything would be made right. She was with her husband now. She loved him and only him. And she knew he was the only one who could really relieve the need raging out of control through her burning breasts and loins.
Bill's hot slavering mouth remained locked on her swollen breast, his lips pulling and sucking eagerly at the rigid little bud of her nipple. And even as he continued to kiss and suck the flesh of her naked torso, she could feel his hands moving down her body, wrapping around her waist to pull her hardly protected loins against his own. Then, with a sudden gasp, he straightened up. He stared wild-eyed into her face, and in the look in his eyes she found something almost frightening. He was even drunker than she'd thought, and she realized that in spite of all his excitement he was angry at her for the way she'd carried on with Jack O'Niel. Perhaps he would never have admitted it, but she knew it was true. And she couldn't deny the little flutter of apprehension mingled with anticipation she experienced far up in her belly as she realized he was channeling the energy of that anger into his sex drive.
Then suddenly his lips covered hers, crushing them against her teeth as his tongue shot deep into her open mouth and she felt the fingernails of one of his hands scratching almost painfully over the sensitive exposed skin of her back. He kissed her ruthlessly and with a vengeance, pulling her body forcibly against his own, crushing her with his almost savage strength. Then, as abruptly as he'd begun the kiss, he broke away, his hand seizing one of her biceps as he pulled her toward the bed and shoved her down onto it on a reclining position on her back.
Isabel stared up through lust-narrowed eyes as Bill moved to the edge of the bed and looked down with hunger at her surrendered, near-naked flesh. A further tingle of delight coursed over her skin as he reached down to her upper thighs to unsnap the garter belt that held up her nylon stockings, then one by one pulled them down off her long slender legs. He hesitated again, hungrily surveying her lithe form now completely naked except for her thinly clinging little panties. Then, his breath coming in hoarse gasps, he kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto the bed beside her, again dropping his mouth to her exposed breasts to take one of her hard nipples between his teeth, his other hand moving up to cup and fondle the swollen orb until she moaned aloud with his every move.
"Oooouuuu! That's sooo nice," the near-naked brunette whispered seductively as she felt her husband's teeth bite gently into her nipple. Then he increased the pressure until her whole torso shuddered, but at the same time she felt his hand begin to venture lower, coursing softly over the smooth plane of her belly, pausing at the sensitive little hole of her navel before his fingers inched down into the sparse curls of her pubic hair just at the top of the tight elastic waistband of her panties, moving at last right down beneath the little garment.
Now Bill was really getting excited. He knew that as a result of the alcohol he'd imbibed he was going to have perfect control. His cock was already twitching to full erection in his trousers and he felt like he would be able to fuck all night. It was aching to be free, pushing almost painfully against the constricting material of his shorts, but he was determined to hold off until the moment was right. He didn't mind Isabel having a good time at the parties they went to, but tonight things had been different somehow. She was attracted to Jack O'Niel. That had been all too evident. And what she needed now was a really good fucking, and he was determined to hear her begging for his cock before he finally gave it to her.
For several minutes Bill continued to tease and massage Isabel's softly haired pubic mound from inside her tightly clinging panties. It seemed to her that an eternity passed before his middle finger distended to move down into contact with the already hardened bud of her clitoris nestled at the top of the slit of her cunt, and she arched her buttocks up urgently as she felt it move finally lower along the length of her freely moistened little hair-lined cuntal lips.
"Oooooh," the aroused brunette moaned as she wiggled her smoothly curved hips up from the bed, parting her thighs out wide to work the soft lips of her pussy eagerly up against Bill's cautiously probing finger. He let just the tip of it pop inside the warm little orifice, then quickly withdrew, teasing and frustrating her for a moment before he suddenly screwed the plundering digit straight up into the elastic-like little opening, driving relentlessly deeper and deeper into the clasping passage of her vagina until it was buried to the knuckle and his palm was pressed flat against her hot wet pussy.
"Aaagggghh! Ooooohhhhh yesssssss!" Isabel moaned, her body arching stiffly up from the bed in response to the lewd invasion.
Again Bill bit down on one of the hard buds of her nipples, prompting a further pained and passionate cry to well in her throat. Then as she quivered beneath his assault, he began to work his finger slowly in and out of the flowering tightness of her yielding pussy orifice. And as he continued and intensified his teasing finger-fucking rhythm, he used his other hand to tug gently at her panties, pulling them down the smoothness of her thighs to completely expose the triangle of her silken black cunt-hair to his lustfully hungering gaze.
"Ooooh please," Isabel moaned almost incoherently as Bill shifted downward on the bed to tug the panties the rest of the way down her legs and off her ankles and toss them aside. Then quickly he moved his hands back between her thighs, pushing them out wide apart to completely expose the forbidden triangle of cunt. And as his finger wormed swiftly back up into the moistly yielding opening of her loins, he felt her hands begin to grope desperately at his body, tearing at the buttons of his shirt and pulling urgently to undo his belt.
"Please Bill," she purred, a shudder shaking her naked body as he wiggled his finger deep up in her womb. "Take your clothes off. Take your clothes off and make love to me. Fuck me. Fuck me now!"
Bill hesitated but a moment, maintaining his kneeling position over his wife on the bed, holding his finger thrust deep up in her cunt as he gazed down in triumph at her lust-contorted face. Then he withdrew the finger with a pop, relishing the gasp that rose to her lips in response, and quickly stood and began to remove his clothes.
Isabel waited breathlessly, naked and spread-eagled in helpless surrender, the lust that surged through her body almost blotting all thoughts from her mind. She'd never seen Bill so aggressive. It seemed he was filled with a barely contained violence and she knew she had riled him tonight as rarely before. In a moment he was going to take out all his anger on her, and she watched with building anticipation as he pulled his shirt from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Then a little whimper of even greater anticipation rose spontaneously in her throat as in a single motion he pulled down both his trousers and boxer shorts and the hard-throbbing shaft of his cock jerked suddenly to freedom. My God, it looked bigger now than it ever had. It was a menacing, threatening instrument of flesh and in a way she'd never quite understood she'd always loved and feared it at once. She worshipped it, her husband's cock. Sometimes it had brought her pain, but it also brought her joy, and she longed to have it inside her, ripping her apart, punishing and taming her until she would know again, as she'd always known before, that he was the only man she could ever want.
Isabel almost closed her eyes as Bill stepped out of his trousers and hers, his lips once more covering hers as she felt the distended and thickly swollen hardness of his cock prodding up between her legs.
"Oh!" she gasped at the sudden pressure as he lunged forward, shoving it without warning straight up against the softness of her loins. "Easy," she whispered. "Go easy with me."
Bill grinned, realizing his wife was frightened. Then, his own body quivering from his excitement and that pressed up between her thighs. She squeezed it tightly, levering it up and down along the tingling slit of her hair-lined pussy, at last fitting just the head right up between the forcibly parted lips as she felt Bill lunge forward again with even greater force.
"Uuuugggghhhh! Aaaaggggghhhhh! Eeeeeaaaaa sssssyyyyy!" she whimpered, the hard violent penetration almost taking her breath away as the moved back toward the bed. She purred softly as she felt the mattress sag beneath his weight, as she felt his hands move again to her naked torso. A little gasp escaped her as he crushed his palms over her breasts, taking one of her nipples to roll it between his thumb and forefinger and tease it to even greater hardness. Then she sighed as he slid between her parted thighs, holding them out wide with his knees as he lowered his body on urgency, he pushed forward again, pressing the head of his lust swollen cock even harder against the quivering moisture of her loins.
"Put it in!" he grunted, craning his neck to sink his teeth back into the soft flesh of one of her upper breasts as he felt her hand move down between their bodies to seek out and clasp the rigid hardness of his cock.
Isabel writhed her buttocks gently, relishing the frightening power of the surging shaft of flesh blood-filled cock-head plundered into her cunt like a vicious shaft of steel. She still gripped it tightly, doing everything she could to restrain him until she could accustom herself. Then, as she felt the resistance give way, she let a low sigh escape from her throat. She sank back on the bed, her whole naked body relaxing as her pussy flowered eagerly open and the entire length of his penis drove unimpeded all the way up into her most secret pussy depths, embedding itself to the hilt into her lewdly skewered tightness.
For a moment both of them lay perfectly still. She felt his muscular chest press hard against the voluptuous cushions of her breasts. She was completely filled and stretched and she was aware of every ridge and ripple of the hard male cock thrust all the way up into her tenderly cringing belly. The bushiness of his pubic hair pressed forcibly against the tingling bud of her clitoris and his sperm-bloated balls hung obscenely into the crack between her buttocks against the contracted little hole of her anus. Then he flexed deep up inside her, sending a shudder through her lust-wracked body, and as she entwined her arms about his back, pulling him even tighter to her, Bill began to move.
He fucked his long thick cock diligently in and out of the tightly throbbing passage of her pussy, each skewering lunge prompting further shivers of obscene delight to go dancing over her naked flesh. He levered himself up on his elbows, staring down in triumph at her desire strained face, his hands moving back to her high-arched breasts to paw and maul them even more violently as he gradually increased the tempo of his shattering lunges up between her thighs.
And as the last pain of his violent entry faded, replaced by a rejuvenation of the passion and want that had been building in her all through the night, Isabel began to respond. A stream of moans and whimpers issued from her lips as she began to arch and churn her buttocks, hunching eagerly back in response to Bill's wracking strokes. The flanged flesh-rimmed mouth of her pussy was elastic-tight about his blood-engorged penis and his pounding balls swung forward with every thrust to slap teasingly against the cringing hole of her puckered anus. His lust-hardened cock felt as if it was driving all the way up into her belly, and already she could feel the first waves of ecstasy surging through her loins from the wildly stimulating sensation and her tiny clitoris was palpitating with unabated desire.
Gradually Bill increased his violent assault, thrusting with every lunge deeper and harder as Isabel bucked and tossed beneath him. He could see the lust-crazed delirium in her dazed, wide-open eyes. Her whole body had really come to life, and quickly he reached down beneath her hips with both his hands to clench tightly to her jerking buttocks, guiding her undulating movements and pulling them wider apart to even better expose her quivering little anus. He knew he was accomplishing his purpose. She'd forgotten everything but what was happening to her now. He was determined to reassert himself and his power over her, and with the control he derived from his drunken state he was able to fuck her with all his might and fury without worry about losing control.
Then, seized by an even more wildly titillating idea, Bill suddenly worked the middle finger of his right hand even further up into the crack of Isabel's ass. Flicking it forward, he crossed the little membrane that separated her anus from her cunt, spreading a few slick drops of the oozing female lubricant back down over the tight little hole.
Then, as Isabel quivered in astonishment beneath him, he pushed.
"Oh!" the aroused brunette gasped in uncomprehending surprise. "Oh my God, Bill! What... what are you doing?" Isabel was completely confused by this new sensation. For a moment she couldn't even decide if it felt good or if it hurt, but the sheer stimulation was almost more than she could resist and she jerked her masochistically undulating buttocks even more wildly as a shattering wave of salacious pleasure and passion swept over her and she took the obscenely skewering finger all the way to the knuckle up into her cringing little anus.
"Ooooooh yes!" she cried out deliriously as Bill began to drive his finger in and out of her anus in time with his plundering cock. "Yes, fuck me! Fuck me! Make me cum!"
A moment later it began. The burning sensation in her anus intensified until she could hardly bear it, then seemed miraculously to merge with the sheer ecstasy she derived from the continued assault on her cunt. Her body tensed, her mind blanked. For a moment she didn't even know who she was, or where she was. She knew nothing but the consuming, blinding delight of the orgasm building in her loins. And then a memory flashed in her mind, a vision almost. She remembered the night she decided to let Bill take her virginity. She experienced again the excitement and fear she'd experienced that night. At the same time she heard a voice, a man's voice whispering softly in her ear: "You've got to keep trying new people all the time. Otherwise you go stale." It was Jack O'Niel's voice. He'd said that to her tonight when they were on the terrace. Then the vision was gone, the echo of the voice had faded. Above her she felt Bill launch a sudden hard wracking series of staccato thrust as his cum-swollen testicles relinquished their hold on the liquid that bloated them and his hot male sperm began its maddening dash up the elongated shaft of his cock. The head of his penis pulsed furiously up into her cunt as he drove into her to maximum depth, and his searing semen burst forth like a cannon shot to mingle with her own freely flowing vaginal fluids.
Beneath him, Isabel seemed almost to levitate from the bed and she rocked and tossed her naked body in a frenzy of delight to the shattering waves of ecstasy that overcame her. She screamed and whimpered, her hands clawing wildly at his back as she basked in the dream world of her release, languishing as though on a cloud as spasm after spasm darted through her ravished loins. Their mutual climax seemed to go on and on, a soul-shattering explosion that lifted them out of themselves and faded slowly, with a sensation of gently and peacefully sinking. Then Isabel let her breath escape softly and Bill sagged down tiredly upon her, his cock still buried deep up in her loins. They lay like that for several moments, then gradually it began to deflate. He kissed her once, now softly, on the lips. Then slowly he withdrew and rolled off, lying still close beside her, reaching up with one of his hands to cup tenderly over her breasts.
"Sleepy?" she whispered.
"Yeah."
"I love you," she said. She paused for a moment, remembering, then added: "Bill?"
"Huh?"
"Don't worry about Jack O'Niel. He's an... an asshole." She paused again. "Most of those guys are."
CHAPTER TWO
The beach began just past the artificial break-water extending off the small peninsula of land that formed the cove around which the town was built. From here the winding strip of sand ran several miles down the coast. First one passed a cluttering of concession stands, selling curios or renting rafts, deck chairs and umbrellas. It was here that the largest number of people were congregated, and even topless sunbathing was forbidden by both custom and law. But farther along the people thinned out and on a weekday one could find a nice stretch of sand all to himself. Several miles farther on there was in fact a broad stretch of beach where nudity was the rule, though it was frequented mostly by hippies or students from Los Angeles.
Isabel and Carrol opted for the central area, merely following the board-walk and, after it ended, the sandy little lane, until they came to a deserted area that would afford them some privacy. Clad in shorts and halters and carrying their towels in a straw bag, they descended and made their way down to the water. Carrol quickly removed both her halter and the flimsy bikini top she'd brought along in case of an emergency. Conscious of her girlfriend's eager exposure of her breasts, Isabel dallied slightly, carefully spreading out her towel on the sand, removing her own halter and shorts but still hesitating before she dispensed with the bikini top itself. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she gazed at the baking afternoon sun. Then in an almost impulsive kind of gesture, she reached suddenly up behind her back to unsnap the flimsy little garment, shedding the straps down off her arms to free the voluptuous upthrust mounds of her evenly suntanned breasts, feeling her mauve nipples swell to a tingling hardness from their contact with the air.
"You liked Jack," Carrol said, still standing with her full ripe breasts faced toward the sun as Isabel dropped to her knees on her towel, looked cautiously around and then reclined on her back.
"Yes, I guess," Isabel said, looking cautiously up at her friend. It was strange. She'd spent most of the night before last with Jack O'Niel and she'd never once thought that Carrol might be disturbed by it. But now she wondered. She knew Carrol had been through quite a string of men in the year and a half since she'd divorced her first husband, but she also knew the petite and voluptuous blonde was really taken this time. They hadn't really had a chance to talk about it much, for Carrol had been spending most of her time with him. But it just showed on her.
Suddenly Carrol turned back to face the prone, near naked brunette. The blonde looked down at her own sensuously exposed body, as if to inspect her proudly upstanding breasts, and licked her lips thoughtfully. "He's not like other men. Jack. He's... I don't know what it is. He thinks for himself. I guess that's what I mean. Or maybe these character's I've been dating since Tony and I broke up have just generally been a bunch of creeps. What do you think?"
"I don't know, Carrol," Isabel said frankly as the other woman bent to spread out her own towel, then sat down cross-legged in the middle of it.
"Those guys, I could lead them around like they had rings in their nose." She stared into Isabel's eyes and the brunette sensed the coming proclamation. "I really went through a bunch of them. Too many I think. And you know what else I think? I think I was just doing it to get even with Tony. As soon as I got one of them hooked, I would drop him. And the put-down was half the fun. But with Jack it's different. I couldn't put him down if I tried. Not that I would ever want to. He's too strong for that. He's his own man." She paused, smiling faintly. "That's why I love him."
"You do love him?" Isabel asked cautiously.
"Of course I love him. Wouldn't you?"
Carrol was looking at her in a way so demanding that Isabel felt compelled to avert her own eyes. But it was a question she couldn't even begin to answer. She might have flirted with Jack O'Niel. And perhaps, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, she was sexually attracted to him in some kind of school girl way. But she loved Bill. She thought surely he was the only man she could ever love. And for that matter, she found Jack O'Niel actually somewhat obnoxious, appealing as he might have been on a physical level. His arrogance riled her. It seemed based on an inbred conceit. Part of the reason she had spent so much time with him at the party was that she wanted to deflate the balloon of his pride. She had teased him, perhaps on a couple of occasions even ridiculed him, but he had remained undaunted and assured. She wondered what Carrol would think if she knew that he'd actually tried to arrange an afternoon meeting with her, for the express purpose of their going to bed.
"And he loves me," Carrol added, though without apparent conviction.
"Yes, I'm sure he does," Isabel added, and wondered immediately why she'd said it. She didn't believe it. And she couldn't imagine Jack ever actually marrying Carrol - or anyone else for that matter.
A short silence followed as both girls were lost in their thoughts. Before them the Pacific was blue and almost calm, adorned with but an occasional white cap of a breaking wave. Seagulls glided on the clear sky, diving occasionally in search of a fish, and a sailboat appeared from behind the end of the break-water that protected the cove.
"Have you ever been unfaithful to Bill?" Carrol asked suddenly, startling Isabel from her own inner reverie.
"No!" she answered, surprised her friend had asked the question.
"I didn't think so. Not since you've been married anyway."
"That's right," the brunette admitted. "Not since we've been married. During the time we were broken up, that period right before we got engaged, I went to bed with two other men. Boys, I mean. Fraternity guys. But it was nothing." She sighed, looking down at her own naked breasts. "I guess I think about it sometimes, but I couldn't do it. Bill is the only man for me. Even if he had another woman once in a while, I still couldn't get interested in another man."
"I guess he's good," Carrol said, "In bed. Jack is the greatest. He's a regular acrobat."
For some reason Isabel blushed slightly at the image that suggested in her mind, and the remark was followed by another brief moment's silence, again interrupted by Carrol.
"But he wants me to have other men."
"What?" Isabel gasped, sitting up on her towel to stare with surprise at her friend.
"I guess I would play around anyway," she went on. "Sooner or later. I played around on Tony every once in a while. But Jack's whole philosophy is different."
"What do you mean?"
"He loves me, Isabel," Carrol insisted, staring again into Isabel's eyes. "He really does. I know it. But he has this... I guess it's an ego problem. He says he has to keep trying new women. He says if he didn't do that, if he felt he had to be faithful to me, out of obligation to me, he would start to hate me for it. And I know that's true."
Isabel reflected on what Jack had told her last night, the same statement that had flashed so vividly in her mind later when she and Bill were making love. Now things were beginning to fall together. And she sensed intuitively that Carrol was in danger of being hurt very bad. Jack O'Niel was already trying to make an arrangement with her, a very unorthodox arrangement, and there was no telling what would happen next. Certainly he wouldn't expect Carrol to put up with his sleeping with her best friend, even if under pressure she did agree in principal with his philosophy about the sexual relationship.
"And I think he's right," Carrol added after a moment.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't care if he has other women. I don't. He could do it right in front of my eyes as long as I knew I would get my share later. And pretty soon, I guess, I will find another man who attracts me a little and even the score, which is what he says has to happen for this to work." She paused, biting her lip, again looking intently at Isabel. "And I'm glad he wants it this way. I am. I think he's right. It's the perfect relationship, and I want him to have anybody he wants."
Isabel smiled in spite of her concern. Carrol was so easy to see through sometimes. And now she was absolutely transparent. And she just couldn't resist her next remark: "You mean... ? What would you think, say, if I went out with Jack?"
Carrol frowned suddenly, her face reddening. Then she caught herself and managed a feeble smile. "I think that would be a great idea. If I can't share him with my best friend, how can I ever share him with strangers?" The blonde paused gazing winsomely out over the water as Isabel watched her with mingled sadness and amusement. Then she looked back suddenly. "In fact, I know Jack would like that too. Don't think I wasn't aware of what was going on last night. I even had the feeling he was testing me. And this way I can really pass the test." She sucked in her breath. "I'll fix it up myself, for some afternoon this week."
"Fix what up?"
"I'll arrange a time for you and Jack to meet. In the afternoon." The blonde paused again, her voice almost faltering, then went on courageously. "I mean, if I can't share him with... with my friends, my best friend, like I said before, who can I share him with? "
"But I don't want to share Jack with you," Isabel insisted. "I wouldn't think of sleeping with him. I told you: I'm not sleeping with anybody but Bill, and that's that. I don't even want to go out with him. I was just teasing to see what you'd say."
"You weren't teasing," Carrol said. "And I'm going to fix it up for you. I am."
She's still blushing, Isabel thought as she studied the blonde's determined face. But still she was surprised to hear her own voice calling the bluff.
"All right. Let's see then. One afternoon next week will be perfect."
CHAPTER THREE
Jack O'Niel maneuvered his Jaguar XKE skillfully along the coast highway south, gearing down as he went into the curves, gunning the engine as he emerged on the straights. Beside him, Isabel relished the feel of the wind in her face, her free flowing long black hair whipping over her bare arms and shoulders, the sheer excitement of the speed itself. She still couldn't quite believe this whole outing was really taking place. It had been merely her spirit of competition that had prompted her to call Carrol's bluff in the first place, but at that time she'd still had no intention of carrying through. But she'd gotten into the game, and she'd found it impossible to get out.
Odd, she thought, that it had finally been Carrol's insistence that prompted her to come. She remembered the look on her friend's face, Tuesday, the day before yesterday, when she'd gone over and told her that she'd just been teasing and that she could not under any circumstances go out with Jack O'Niel. "You've got to, Isabel," Carrol had said. "I told him about it. If you back out now he'll blame it on me."
"But it's not your fault," Isabel had said. "I'm a married woman. I can't go running around with another man, particularly your... fiance."
"Jack doesn't care if you're married."
"Jack doesn't care?" Isabel had blurted.
"And it's just because he is my fiance that you have to go. Do it for me. If you back out, he will think it was me who made you do it. It's already built a tension between us and I want it to resolve itself." Isabel remembered the look in Carrol's eyes as she paused before going on: "It's got to resolve itself. I can't stand the thought of losing him."
And she had wondered, seeing Carrol's desperation, what magic it was that he could have possessed to make her need him that badly. She wondered if any man could really be that good in bed.
And she'd wondered the same thing this morning after breakfast, when for the first time in their four years of marriage she'd consciously and intentionally told her husband a lie.
Bill Miller was a junior partner in a progressive-oriented North Hollywood law firm. His partners were not much older than him, liberal and easy going. The senior partner, in fact, wore his hair to his shoulders and was as quick to accept a cause as a paying case. But the firm was already beginning to make a reputation and it was a stepping stone for Bill. It also allowed him to manage his time much more flexibly than if he'd been in insurance or some other more ordinary field. Quite often he spent only a few hours in court or at the office, then found himself free for the rest of the day. She could never know when he might turn up at home. Isabel, of course, was free to come and go as she wished. He didn't demand that she account for her every hour. Yet for some reason she'd felt compelled to make an excuse for today, and she'd almost tripped on her own tongue this morning as she'd done so, hesitantly telling Bill that he shouldn't be surprised if he saw her in L.A. that afternoon, as she and Carrol were driving up to the city to visit Carrol's mother.
Bill had displayed not the slightest bit of suspicion. And there was no reason he should have. He'd merely kissed her, told her to be careful and have a nice time, then walked out the door and across the yard to the drive, gotten into his car and left. And she had stood, framed in the doorway in her clinging bathrobe, held loosely together in front with a sash, staring almost bitterly after him. His total trust, his absolute lack of suspicion, had in fact disappointed her. She still didn't quite understand the thought process involved, but it was as if she resented his trust, as if she expected that he, the man she loved, should sense her he. She would have been relieved, she knew now, if he had looked back at her and said: "No. You're not going to see Carrol's mother. You're slipping out with Jack O'Niel. And I'm not going to stand for it."
But there would have been no reason for him to say that. There was no reason for him to suspect anything. And granted that he knew and understood her well, she couldn't expect him to read her mind.
* * *
"I hope you like abalone steak," Jack said, gearing down again to slow the Jaguar as a large seafood restaurant loomed up before them on the side of the road.
"Abalone?" Isabel said. "I never heard of a restaurant that serves abalone?"
"They don't, ordinarily. But the chef, Mario, is an old friend of mine. I went diving this morning and got some really nice ones. He cleans them and does them up, along with some of the best Italian polenta you ever had."
Jack swung the sport scar off onto the gravel, pulled to a stop and killed the ignition. He got out and came around to open the door for Isabel, and though she shied away slightly at the first contact, he rested his palm on the small of her back as he guided her into the spacious, tastefully decorated dinning room.
Isabel couldn't help but be impressed with the service they got. The delightful little bald-headed chef paid special attention to their table and the thick white steaks, which Jack explained came from a kind of large mollusk found only off California, were indeed delicious. Along with the tasteful cheese-topped polenta, they were washed down with two full bottles of an excellent California Chablis, and by the time dinner was over Isabel was feeling very light-headed and relaxed.
"Now a cognac," Jack said. "Oh no. I really couldn't."
"Sure you can." He turned and snapped his fingers toward the kitchen. "Mario... "
As they emerged from the restaurant a few minutes later and walked back to the car Isabel felt Jack's hand again move to the small of her back, then slip around her waist, and though again she felt inclined to shy away, this time she did not. He opened the door and let her in, then moved around and resumed his place in the driver's seat.
"Two-thirty," he said, consulting his watch. "My place is north of La Jolla. We can be there in less than an hour." He smiled, his eyes descending momentarily to the full swells of Isabel's shapely breasts, straining against the material of her sleeveless blouse and the tightly constricting brassiere she wore. "I've got an Olympic size pool, almost."
Isabel shook her head. "Oh no. I don't even have my suit."
"Don't need one. There's a high wall I had built especially for girls like you. And I never wear a suit myself if I'm not swimming in public competition."
The brunette managed a nervous laugh, her eyes moving curiously over Jack's torso where his toned muscles strained against his tight knit T-shirt. She compared his body to Bill's in her mind. Bill had an attractive physique, lean and spare, but there was little similarity. She preferred Bill's body, of course. She preferred Bill's to anyone's, because Bill was the man she loved. But she did find Jack O'Niel's body interesting. Just interesting, that was all. Then she shook her head suddenly, snapping out of the reverie that she thought could only have been inspired by the amount of wine she'd drunk. "I really have to get back home. My husband will be home soon. He'll worry about me."
Jack looked deeply into her eyes. He smiled. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her and she was wondering what she would do if he did. Then, instead, he just reached up and put two of his fingers to her lips. "Some other time."
She didn't say no to that, and as they pulled back onto the road and started north she was wondering why she hadn't said no. Her whole mind was in a jumble and she was wondering why, if she had to come on this outing for Carrol's sake, she hadn't just explained to Bill. If she had explained to him, maybe he would have stopped her. Or even if he hadn't stopped, if in his understanding way, his tolerance, he had said, "All right, go on if you want to. But be careful and keep your head." If he had said that, she thought, then maybe she would have still come, but everything would have been different. Maybe there wouldn't have been this confusion in her own mind, because if she had told Bill, explained to him that her only motive was Carrol's well-being, or at least Carrol's concept of what would be for her well-being, then she, Isabel, would at least be sure of her motive. But now she had lied. She had lied to Bill for the first time, except perhaps for a little white lie, meaning nothing, here and there. And perhaps she was lying to herself, thinking these thoughts, wondering if Jack O'Niel was going to kiss her, wondering about his body as if it were some kind of piece of meat on display, feeling this sense of danger, this familiar old sense of the unknown, this intrigue she had not experienced in so long.
Isabel was so lost in her thoughts that she wasn't even aware as Jack slowed the Jaguar, then swung off a dirt road that ran for a short distance parallel to the highway. She only became conscious of the maneuver as the dirt road turned sharply and angled down an incline toward a small, rugged little cove.
"Where... where are we going?" she said, looking sharply around.
Then she stiffened, but still didn't resist, as Jack took one of his hands from the steering wheel and lay it beneath her long hair on the back of her neck. "Nice, private little place here," he said, grinning at her. "We're going to stop for a while."
Looking back, Isabel saw that they'd already descended far enough that they were obscured from view of the highway. Then the road leveled and at last came to an end, where Jack pulled the Jaguar to a stop parallel to the edge of the bluff overlooking the water. His hand still rested on the back of her neck, and as she turned to look back at him in shock and apprehension he pulled her gently but forcibly toward him.
Too stunned to move, Isabel did not resist. And before she realized what was happening Jack's lips covered tenderly over her own and his hand slipped down into the back of the neck of her sweater, his fingers teasing along her sensitive upper spine as his tongue parted her lips and slipped between her teeth.
She let him kiss her. She stared into his face, her eyes open wide with surprise, her body almost limp as the pressure of his mouth against hers increased, as his tongue sank deeper and deeper toward her throat. Then, seeming only belatedly to come to her senses, she stiffened, then suddenly jerked back, her black flashing eyes going wild as she emphatically shook her head.
"No! No, no, no! Take me home. Take me home right now!"
He just looked at her in silence. Staring back at him was like staring at a statue with marbles for eyes. Her drawing away from him had resulted in his hand slipping back out of her sweater and dropping from her body, but now he reached forward again to place it on her leg, on the sensitive exposed skin of her lower thigh just at the hem of the skirt she wore. And as he touched her there, a spontaneous little shiver seemed to course through her whole willowy, lushly formed body.
"You liked that," he said. "You want more."
Now she was shaking her head but weakly. She was utterly confused by the feelings surging through her body, the nervous pounding of her heart, the fluttering in her belly, the tingling in the tips of her breasts. She was excited. The pure physical attraction of his body, his body that for her was new and strange and different, excited her. The fear raging in her belly was also a kind of excitement. Even her knowledge that what she was doing was not only wrong but foolish only added to the thrill. But somehow she had to deny all that. She just had to. She was married to Bill and it was Bill she loved. And as if that wasn't enough, the man now staring so confidently into her frightened eyes was the lover of her own best girl friend.
"No," she said again, now in hardly more than a whisper.
Then slowly the corner of Jack's mouth changed its shape. It was just the slightest curling of his lips, to begin that same irritating smile that looked in fact more like a smirk. And as Isabel continued to feebly shake her head, he reached up with his other hand, brushing it softly against the fullness of her breast as he slipped it beneath her arm and around her back. Then, though she tried to hold back, he pulled her to him again, squeezing her slender torso, crushing her breasts with his muscular chest as he kissed her hard and hot with his mouth wide open, his tongue probing and searching eagerly into hers.
In spite of herself Isabel moaned in response. In his strong arms she felt light as a feather, and something was happening in her body over which she had no control. Her breasts were mashed down almost painfully by his hard pectoral muscles, and she could feel the little nipples swelling and tingling inside her tightly constricting brassiere. Jack's fingers were digging ruthlessly into her back from the outside of her sweater. His other hand still rested on her thigh and was now beginning to creep slowly upward beneath her skirt.
For a moment Isabel languished in a limbo of immobility and indecision. Then with a desperate effort, she jerked her face away from Jack's and again violently shook her head even as he still held her body tightly against his own. "No," she cried. "You've got to stop."
He turned her lose and she almost collapsed forward in the seat, so completely had she been resting her weight on him.
Straightening up, she stared at him with even greater confusion. And he smiled back with confidence, seemingly becoming every moment more assured that his conquest would be complete. Then he reached down to seize Isabel's sweater just at her waist, and as she again set almost immobilized by her confusion and shock, he pulled it up her body. Only at the last minute did she have the presence of mind to clamp her arms against her side to prevent him from lifting it completely over her head. She stared down in astonishment at her half-exposed breast, now protected by nothing but the flimsy cups of her brassiere. And as she did so, Jack moved his hands quickly over the two full, high-standing orbs, slipping his thumbs beneath the stretch cups to lift them off the rounded mounds, pushing them up to completely expose the two ripe, nipple peaked hills.
"Oooooooooh!" Isabel moaned as his fingers brushed back over the sensitively rounded flesh, the contact with her bare nipples causing them to swell to instant rigidity. Then he leaned quickly forward, taking one of the hard little buds between his teeth, biting down on it so forcibly that she cried out in a mingling of pain and lust-aroused excitement.
Sensing his advantage, Jack pushed forward, shifting his lips to Isabel's other breast to lick and suck that nipple to equal hardness. At the same time he roved his hands eagerly over the sensitive skin of her almost completely exposed torso, his fingers dancing down the sensitively indented line of her spine, his other hand mauling ruthlessly over the breast even as he sucked and bit at the nipple.
"Jack, don't," Isabel managed weakly, staring down in dismay at the continued oral manipulations of his lips and teeth on the precious little bud of her nipple. But even as she pretended to protest, she was arching her back as though to push the sensitive flesh-tip even deeper in his mouth, and it was all she could do to prevent herself bringing her hands up into his thick blond hair and hugging his handsome face to her bosom. She was on the verge of letting herself go. She knew it. She recognized her temptation and knew that it had been with her since the first time she'd seen this man. It was not even that she liked him. She just wanted him. He was a sex object, an active sex object, an instrument of flesh who could fulfill a need that existed in her completely independent of her love for Bill. And if she gave in to him, she thought in her delirious mental state, she would not be denying or weakening that love. Her love for Bill would never die. In a strange sort of way, she thought now that by the variety of her experience her love for Bill would only be strengthened.
Then suddenly Jack straightened up. As she stared at him feverishly, he smiled and kissed her again on the lips, his hands continuing to forcibly cup and massage her breasts as he did so, then moving down her smooth bare belly, down across the material of her skirt and up between her slightly parted thighs, almost to the crotchband of her panties that were the only thing between his searching fingers and the flesh of her forbidden pussy itself.
Then, as the contact was about to be made, Isabel came to her senses again. Her body stiffened. It seemed a bright light flashed in her eyes. The hand, moving up between her thighs was like a hot iron searing over her flesh. She felt as if she were being attacked by a demon, as if the attack was not just upon her body, but as if her spirit, her way of life, everything of meaning she had to live for was under siege. And the cry that rose in her throat could have been an answer to the devil himself: "No! Goddamn it, I said no! Get away from me!"
Stunned, Jack O'Niel let his hand slip from beneath Isabel's skirt. He drew back slightly, staring in confusion at her glaring eyes, at her still almost completely exposed torso, at the fully rounded mounds of her breasts standing up full and proud before his eyes. She looked as if she'd gone mad. Her long black hair was tangled by the wind. Her sultry lips were quivering. Her eyes were wide, glossed over, her cheeks flushed red. And minutely she was trembling, her whole body trembling as if secretly agitated from inside, tensed, as if any moment she would explode.
The pose was held for a time he couldn't have even defined. Then in a sudden motion she spun around in the seat, yanking the two cups of the stretch-bra back down over her breasts, drawing the sweater off the tops of them and back down to her waist. She sat still and stiff, staring straight ahead out the front window. And when she spoke it was hardly more than a whisper: "Take me home. Take me home right now."
Jack sighed. Then he shrugged and shifted around in his own seat. He started the ignition, shifted into reverse gear, but hesitated before letting off the clutch. Then he looked back at her and grinned.
"Isabel." She turned her head slowly. "I'll take you home now. I guess you need a little time to get used to the idea of cheating on hubby. But think it over." He paused. "Next time, we won't stop."
CHAPTER FOUR
After her shocking encounter with Jack O'Niel, Isabel hardly knew how she was going to face Carrol again. But she did have a slight reprieve, as the lie she'd told her husband Bill did have a basis of truth. Carrol had driven to Los Angeles to visit her mother that day, and to Isabel's relief, she'd not gotten back when she and Jack pulled into her drive. Jack said he had a key and that he would wait for her inside. Isabel declined his invitation that she join him, said an abrupt goodbye, and walked the two blocks to her and Bill's place. Her husband hadn't returned when she got there, but he came in a short while later. To his question as to how she'd enjoyed her day in the city she merely shrugged, averted her eyes and said, "Oh, nice enough."
The next afternoon Carrol called up and invited her over. She felt she couldn't refuse. But she went only with the greatest resignation, certain Carrol would eventually get around to grilling her about what had happened between her and Jack, and still entirely uncertain as to how she would respond. But to her surprise, Carrol was in high spirits and seemingly completely unconcerned. She served them iced tea and remarked that Jack said they'd had lunch at Mario's. She commented on how much she'd enjoyed it the few times she'd eaten there, then chatted briefly about, of all things, her mother. Then she fell silent, and gradually a secretive smile crept over her face. It was a look Isabel knew well. It meant she was about to make an announcement of some kind.
"Jack wants the four of us to spend Sunday afternoon at his place. He told you about it," he said.
"What?" For a moment Isabel didn't know what her friend was talking about.
"The four of us, Sunday," Carrol repeated.
"The four of who?"
"Him and I and you and Bill. He's got a really beautiful place, down above La Jolla. With a big pool and the most wonderful bar. And with a stretch of private beach running in front of it so you can swim there if you prefer. His parents were killed when he was a child and he was raised by a great uncle who made a fortune in oil or something. It's his place really, but Jack lives there summers."
Isabel was hardly even listening. She was asking herself the same question over and over, silently in her mind: Now why would Jack want to invite Bill to his place? And the obvious answer that kept popping into her mind was that yesterday he'd just been trying her out, and that in spite of what he'd said as they were about to leave the cove where they'd parked, he was taking her refusal as final.
"Well, what do you say?"
Isabel stared at her friend silently for a moment. "Why would he want to invite me and... and Bill to his place?" She should have been relieved, she was thinking. She should have been relieved and instead she was, initially at least, somehow disappointed.
"When Jack and I are married... Well, you are my best friend. It's naturally going to be that the four of us will spend a lot of time together. He wants to get acquainted. And he just likes having people around. You know me, I don't have that much to talk about and even Jack can't ball twenty-four hours a day. Besides, he says he was watching Bill at the party that night. He says he admires him."
"Admires him?"
Carrol laughed. "Well what's so funny about that. He says he likes men like Bill, the 'sturdy, silent types'."
"Oh."
"You will come?"
Isabel hesitated. Something still seemed fishy about it. For a minute she was reminded of an article she'd read about a practice that had become remarkably common, according to certain surveys, among young married couples during the last few years. Wife-swapping, it was termed. But she ruled that possibility out almost as quickly as she'd thought of it. Even Jack wouldn't have the nerve to try to make that kind of arrangement with Bill. Bill wasn't the type, and anybody could see it. So he was giving up, she thought. After one try he was giving up. And the irony of it all, she realized, experiencing an acute fluttering deep in her stomach, was that if he had kept after her long enough he could have had her. In spite of Bill, in spite of her friendship with Carrol, in spite of everything Jack O'Niel could finally have gotten to her. And this, she realized, could be her salvation. If Jack and Bill became friends, then there would be no question of anything happening between him and her.
"Well?" Carrol asked.
"I'll talk to Bill. I'll try to get him to come."
Walking home that evening, Isabel wondered, and it was not without a twinge of disappointment, why Jack had changed his mind.
* * *
They made the drive in separate vehicles, Jack and Carrol leading in his Jaguar. It was a warm and cloudless day, perfect for swimming, and Isabel, riding with Bill in their station wagon, wore her skimpiest bikini beneath her minidress. It was fortunate, she reflected, that she'd mentioned her choice of bathing suits to Carrol. Her friend had pointed out that she never wore anything while swimming at Jack's. There was a wall around the pool and he had his own stretch of private beach. But to Isabel's insistence, Carrol had finally agreed to put on a bikini. Bill, she had pointed out, would never stand for her bathing naked in the presence of another man. "Oh Isabel," Carrol had said. "He's not that square."
"Yes he is," Isabel said. "You don't know him like I do."
They arrived about two. The house, which sat on a knoll of grassy land about fifty yards back from the beach, was not at all the modern place Isabel would have expected. Two-stories tall, with a steep slanting shingled roof extending a considerable distance higher, it was built of wood, white painted but now weathered almost gray, fronted by a spacious, screened-in porch furnished with several antique rockers, and surrounded by a picket fence. Jack pointed out that it had been built about the turn of the century. The swimming pool, enclosed in a high board fence, was a new addition of course, and the interior, in contrast to the shabby, or even haunting exterior, had also been redone, though the decor and furnishings remained tastefully in keeping with the date of its original construction.
Jack proudly showed them around and Isabel was glad to note that he and Bill chatted amiably about the Victorian style architecture. He pointed out that it was a great place for parties. Bill thought the main salon, from which the ceiling had been removed to afford a view of the beams and the steep-slanting roof itself, created somewhat the effect of an old cathedral. Then they ascended an almost spooky stairway to make a quick tour of the second floor, which featured several luxurious old bedrooms, though at present only two of them were actually furnished. Bill went into one to inspect and antique armoire and while his attention was taken Jack touched Isabel gently on the arm to get hers. He tapped the wall-paneling at the end of the corridor and said softly: "This, believe it or not, is a door to a secret passage leading into the attic." Without further elaboration he ushered them back downstairs and out to the pool, where Carrol had already served them tall icy drinks on an old round wooden table.
Jack was the first to remove his clothes and Isabel was glad to see that Carrol had apparently warned him that she'd insisted they wear suits. The blonde stripped off next, and though she did have a bikini beneath her dress, it was so flimsy and skimpy that it concealed almost nothing of her voluptuous young body. Then Isabel shed her own miniskirt and Bill got out of his clothes, and in moments the four of them were frolicking in the water.
The afternoon moved lazily by. As the time passed, Isabel became more and more convinced that she'd guessed right. Jack O'Niel seemed to be making every effort to make friends with her husband, and she saw signs in Bill's attitude that he did have a grudging respect for the other man's charm and outgoing way. She was relieved, yet at the same time she experienced an undeniable let-down. She had felt herself in danger ever since she'd met Jack at Eileen's party last week. But the danger was adventure, and now it seemed she was returning to her old staid existence. And aside from her personal feelings, she was basically just disappointed with Jack on a broader level. Though she had been apprehensive of him, resentful even, she'd taken some kind of consolation in the knowledge that there were men like him around, as she conceived him to be, that is. She'd built up in her mind an image of him, an image of a kind of rebellious megalomaniac, a man who lived hedonistically and without regard for such superficially imposed limits as the contract of marriage. And he was not fulfilling his image. Not that he didn't pay her any attention. On several occasions she'd caught him looking at her that same way he'd looked the first time she'd seen him. That same lust and self-assurance was written all over his face. But she just couldn't believe that now that he was making friends with Bill he still had any intention of trying to seduce her. Nor was it that she had any plan of allowing him to succeed if he had tried.
She just hadn't wanted him to give up so soon.
They alternately swam and drank from a large pitcher of Spanish sangria Jack had made for the occasion. Carrol seemed particularly delighted, and Isabel realized her friend must be making about the same assessment of the situation as she. The blonde was immensely relieved, and Isabel confirmed that in spite of her denials she had in fact been worried that something was going to happen between her and Jack. Well, she concluded gloomily, it was probably all working out for the best. Of course it was all working for the best. But it would at least have been fun to play around with the idea of adultery for a while longer, even if she didn't have any intention of actually doing it.
Isabel drank to raise her own spirits and managed to put on a face that hid her disappointment. She was now able to make an even more careful physical comparison between Jack and her husband. She concluded that she liked them both still, each in her way. She was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol and for some reason the idea struck her as very funny. Sitting at the table with a glass in her hand, watching Bill sun on the edge of the pool and Jack and Carrol playing in the shallows at the far end, she began to laugh. It was an ironic, almost pathetic, self-pitying laughter. It went unnoticed, as Jack was at that moment tickling Carrol and she was laughing even louder. Then Carrol's laughter ceased. Isabel's continued for a moment before she stopped also. The moment froze in her mind. She saw Jack looking at her, that same grin that resembled a smirk adorning his ruggedly handsome face. She saw Carrol looking at her, hurt and alarm in her eyes. She saw Bill, his eyes closed, as though he slept, lying prone on his back still in the same place at the end of the pool.
And she knew everything in that moment had changed.
Then Jack left Carrol where she was. He climbed out of the water, his muscles rippling as he hoisted himself to the edge of the pool, and walked toward her. Isabel watched him, her heart pounding furiously in her breasts, then shifted her gaze to her friend, still looking back in the same desperate, wounded way.
"Let's try the ocean," he said.
"What?"
"Come on. We're going for a swim."
Isabel opened her mouth to say no and not a sound came out. From the corner of her eye she saw that Bill had sat up and was watching her, and she turned her head and looked at him almost desperately. He shrugged and smiled. "Go ahead. I don't mind."
Jack reached down and took her wrist, pulling her firmly to her feet. Isabel met Carrol's gaze for another brief instant. Then she looked blank faced at Bill. Then she turned and walked toward the gate, hearing Jack's feet on the stones behind her.
Isabel thought she could feel the man's eyes searing into the naked skin of her back as she led the way down to the water, but she did not turn to look back. In one instant her sense of adventure and danger had all returned. She knew only too well from that look in Jack's eyes that he had more in mind than swimming, and she guessed that he must have made it equally obvious to Carrol. Again she thought of the article she'd read about wife-swapping. She wondered how she would react to the idea of something going on between her own husband and her own best friend. She tried to imagine how that would make her feel. But it was beyond her wildest fantasies. She just couldn't picture it, not Bill and Carrol together.
Then, reaching the edge of the water rolling in on the sand, Isabel began to run. The ocean was considerably colder than the pool and was somewhat of a shock, but she pushed onward, stepping as high as she could to clear the waves with her feet. Then at last she sprawled forward into the white caps of foam, beginning to swim with long smooth strokes, gliding over the choppy surface as she heard Jack splash into the water beside her.
"Little under-tow, but not too bad," he said, moving up to swim beside her. Employing an Australian crawl he surged quickly ahead, and with her experience as a swimmer Isabel couldn't help but marvel as to how adept he really was. He must have been at least ten years past his college prime, but he looked to be in almost perfect form.
They swam for perhaps a quarter of a mile, straight out into the Pacific. Jack had pulled twenty yards ahead of her, but made no attempt to increase his lead. At last he stopped, treading water as he waited for her to catch up.
"Tired," he asked, riding up on the crest of a two-foot wave that caught Isabel full in the face.
"A little," she gasped.
He swam to her, easily treading water. Beneath the surface she felt his hands brush over her breasts on the outside of her bikini top, then slip behind her back. With a deft motion of his fingers he undid the snap and pulled the skimpy garment away to completely expose the lush ripeness of her breasts.
"Jack!" Isabel squealed, laughing in spite of herself.
"Follow me," he said, taking the bikini-top between his teeth by the strap and starting to swim in long strong strokes back toward the shore.
"Don't lose that," she cried, setting out after him.
The muscular blond man easily beat Isabel into the beach. As she at last touched her feet to the bottom and waded in to where the water just came to the tips of her nakedly tingling little nipples, he stepped onto the dry sand and turned, waving the bikini top triumphantly. "Come on," he called, motioning with a jerk of his head.
Reclining forward, Isabel swam in a few more paces, then paused, now kneeling, keeping her breasts hidden beneath the waves. "Throw it, Jack. Please. What if Bill comes out and sees me."
"He's seen them before," Jack said with a laugh, then turned and started away up the beach.
Waiting where she was, Isabel watched him go. Then, for the first time, she noticed the little wood shed sitting at the edge of the sand where the grass began and the land started to rise. That was where he was going, she realized, and she could guess all too easily what he had in mind if she followed. But she didn't know what choice she had. She could hardly go back to the house and tell Bill she'd lost her bikini top accidentally in the waves. Not that it couldn't happen, but he would never believe her.
Exasperated, Isabel lingered in the water for a moment longer. She gazed up past the house to the fence that enclosed the pool, relieved at least to see that Bill and Carrol hadn't emerged. Then, faced with the fact that she had no choice, she quickly stood up, dashed the rest of the way to the beach and up across the sand to the door of the little hut. Naked except for the tiny bikini bottom, Isabel paused just inside. It was dark and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light. Then she saw that there was an air mattress spread out on the ground. Kneeling upon it was Jack O'Niel. Her bikini top, and his own bathing suit lay on the sand at her feet. He was completely naked, and as Isabel's eyes shifted reflexively to his groin an involuntary gasp of shock burst to her lips.
"Oh my God! No!"
He was grinning lewdly up at her, and he held his fully erected penis in his hand, lewdly stroking up and down along its massive length. He was ready. His cock was rock-hard, pulsing with almost visible urgency, surrounded at the base by a thick matting of curly blond hair. Bill was well enough endowed, but this was outrageous. It was enormous, and the mental image of her friend Carrol being skewered halfway to her belly filled her mind and made her legs almost buckle beneath her. Then, before she had time to retreat, Jack's hands moved up to her waist and his fingers seized the tight elastic waistband at the top of her tiny bikini and started to tug it downward.
"Come on in, Isabel," he said in a gusty, mocking voice. "I'm going to eat your cunt."
Isabel watched in horror as the little garment slipped down off her tightly rounded buttocks, down off the vee-shaped triangle of moist black pubic hair nestled so invitingly between her thighs, down the length of her thighs to clutch like constricting hobbles at her ankles so that she had no choice but to step out of them, leaving her completely naked before the leering man.
Then in a quick, deft gesture, he reached up and crossed one forearm behind her knees, his other hand moving to her belly and around her side, to push her backwards and sideways. Her legs did buckle then, and he caught her easily, guiding her in her fall so that she landed helplessly reclined on the mattress. And as she stared up in fear and dismay, Jack shifted quickly about, planting his knees between her parted legs, leaning over her to leer hungrily down at the open-splayed softness of her thinly haired little pussy orifice.
"Noooo," Isabel moaned weakly, shaking her head from side to side as Jack leaned forward over her. "Please, don't do it to me."
"Shhhhhhhh," he grinned, his hands moving up to paw eagerly at the lush mounds of her nakedly glistening breasts.
She could have screamed. It was happening. He had her where he wanted her and she knew there was no escape. And she knew she had asked for it. She had been asking for it all along. But she couldn't let it happen like this, not with Bill and Carrol less than a hundred yards away, hardly even out of hearing distance.
Then as Jack's hands coursed down her body, the fearfully cringing brunette shuddered and clenched her eyes shut. A slight uncontrollable tremor of excitement rippled through her belly at the touch of his fingers on her inner thighs. He stared hungrily down at the glistening pink wonder of her exposed loins held completely open to his gaze, then pushed her legs out even wider and doubled them back until her knees were practically jackknifed to her shoulders, leaving the sensual mound of her naked pubis and the lewdly moistened slit of her cunt completely vulnerable to her view.
Isabel opened her eyes again, her breath coming in hoarse strained gasps as she watched Jack's tongue flick from his mouth to moisten his lips in anticipation of the cruel lashing it was about to inflict upon her helpless genitals. Then slowly he inched his hands back between her thighs, savoring her mixed excitement and fear as his fingers found the flanged lips of her cunt and with a slow outward movement he drew them apart until the moist, gently pulsing slit of her vagina was even better exposed to his gaze. Then with a low animal groan of lust, he dropped his head and buried the full length of his tongue up into the depths of Isabel's widespread pussy moisture.
The naked brunette's whole willowy body jerked suddenly and a low groan rose from deep in her throat. It was happening. It was too late for her to stop it, and she could only pray that Bill and Carrol would stay where they were until it was over. Shocks of unwelcome pleasure were purling completely out of control through her breasts and loins and she raised her head up from the air mattress to stare down almost deliriously at the blond hair spilling in thick bushy locks on her naked belly from the head wedged between her thighs.
"Bill," she whimpered weakly. "Bill and Carrol. Please. We can't."
But her protests were to no avail. Physically she knew she didn't stand a chance against Jack. She had led him on and he had every right to expect to have her, and as his tongue began to lick and slaver up and down the whole length of her tingling cunt-slit, she knew that her only hope lay in refusing to be conquered by the lust-inspiring sensations. Yet against all her will she could already feel a traitorous excitement building in her body. It felt like her nerve-ends were exploding in tiny bursts of flaming desire. She was finding it less easy to remember that she was being forced into cooperating and gradually her muscles were beginning to relax into a soft receptiveness as she felt Jack's mouth sucking and licking even more hungrily on her burning little cunt.
She felt him draw the delicately tingling folds of her vagina deep into the thrilling warm cavern of his mouth, and a long low sigh escaped from her throat to signal him the beginnings of her willing submission to the obscene oral assault.
Smiling in lewd self-satisfaction, Jack O'Niel pressed his face lower, pushing his open mouth hard against the desire-swollen wetness of Isabel's defenseless loins. He shifted his position slightly, moving his head upward to nibble at the quivering erect bud of her clitoris, and at this even more devastating sensation the spread-eagled brunette's hips began a slow sensuous writhing of their own and soft mewling animal sounds leaked spontaneously from between her tightly clenched teeth.
Isabel's gasps of pleasure echoed through the little hut as she began to screw her buttocks up from the mattress, squirming her pussy eagerly into Jack's grinning face, her vaginal passage beginning automatically to expand and contract, clenching tightly to the slavering tongue burrowing deeper and deeper inside her. Her breath exploded in quick small gasps as he curled and flicked the darting tip all along the trembling hair-lined slit, his nose rutting her clitoris to prompt a repeated involuntary arching of her nakedly churning ass-cheeks up from the mattress beneath her.
Jack grunted down between Isabel's thighs, relishing his triumph as he felt her resistance giving way. His tongue was thrusting assiduously in and out of her cunt, plunging again and again to make a wet sluicing noise with each of its limber penetrations. His face dove deeper into the warm moist crevice between her thighs and his lips sucked and teased hungrily at the little bud of her clitoris, tantalizing her with the sharpness of his teeth as she writhed and churned, shoving her buttocks up and down in a lewd dance of aroused desire and want. At last he almost chuckled aloud right into the flowering hole of her pussy as he felt her hands move down to begin to claw desperately at his thick blond hair to pull his face even tighter against her loins.
Now Isabel was really losing her inhibitions and she whimpered aloud in shameless desire, grasping Jack's head with both her hands to press his mouth directly over the tight little hole of her burning vagina. Her cunt-lips parted wider and wider and the flow of her feminine moisture increased with each additional second that his sucking mouth worked at her aroused little pussy crevice. The fragrant wetness of her passion began to run in narrow trickles down the sides of Jack's cheeks, causing them to shine with the slickness of her lewdly flowing cuntal lubricants.
The lustfully aroused brunette could never have dreamed of such utterly debauched pleasure as that she now derived from the illicit adulterous eating and sucking of her pussy and she ground her lushly undulating buttocks in a pounding rhythm in response to the fervent lashing of his tongue. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She knew she was betraying her love of her husband, and yet the wickedness of it only seemed to further intensify her excitement. The sensuous thrills racing through her naked body had taken control of her thoughts and her head was spinning in a whirlpool of lustful delights.
"Oooooohhhhh yesssss!" she moaned. "Tongue fuck it! God yesssss! Eat my cunt!" In the self-humiliation of her pleading she let herself go completely as Jack's wetly seething tongue continued to bore into the gaping passage of her cunt with greater and greater fervor and intensity. It was pure physical heaven, and she found herself longing in spite of everything for more and more of whatever this muscular animal of a man had to offer. And she was getting it. Jack O'Niel's tongue was working at a fever pitch, driving her squirming buttocks to movements of even greater frenzy beneath each thrilling stab into her inflamed cuntal tightness. Then suddenly he pulled the wet pink instrument out, moving it downward before Isabel had any warning to lick straight across the tiny puckered little hole of her anus.
The sensual brunette blinked, then opened her eyes wide, staring down in sheer delight as she felt Jack's tongue dart again and again over the sensitive little hole, striking it like a snake striking forbidden fruit, its whole searing length lashing right up into the tight orifice with sharply slicing force.
"Ooooouuuuu!" Isabel wailed as the sensational contact with her erotically stimulated anus sent chills of shivering magnificence coursing up and down her spine. Lurid visions smashed into her brain with the intensity of an erupting volcano as his damp hot tongue entered the restricting passage of her weirdly excited rectum. Her voluptuous young body shook uncontrollably beneath the overpowering assault and wild uncontrollable spasms rippled furiously through her loins and belly with torrents of sensual pleasure that blotted all else from her mind.
Driving his tongue deeper and deeper into Isabel's hot little anal passage, Jack waited until her screams of submission reached a pitch of insanity. Then he pulled suddenly free and in a quick motion he slid up her body, his hand reaching down to seize the fully erected shaft of his cock and guide it straight up toward her open-splayed and defenseless cunt.
A whimper of despair rose from deep in Isabel's throat as the tantalizing contact seized. In a spontaneous gesture she lifted her buttocks higher, spreading her thighs even wider. Then, feeling the hot hard thickness of Jack's cock brush along the straining tendon of one of her inner thighs, she came suddenly back to her senses. She opened her eyes wide, staring up in horror and dismay as her body suddenly went stiff and with a mighty effort she squeezed her thighs tightly shut beneath the sweating man who mounted her.
"What the hell?" Jack O'Niel grunted, staring down in disbelief.
"I can't," Isabel sobbed, her whole body shuddering in frustration.
"What do you mean, you can't?"
"I can't be unfaithful to Bill. I can't let you fuck me. Go ahead and finish eating me if you want. But I can't let you put your cock inside."
Even Isabel recognized the selfishness and absurdity of that remark, and she could hardly even believe it was she who had said it. She saw the surprise turn to anger in Jack's eyes and she realized she'd made a very bad mistake. Then, in a sudden twisting move on the mattress, he changed the direction of his body in relation to hers, turning completely around so that his knees were planted on either side of her head and his face was positioned back over her naked loins. And as he dropped downward his heavy penis was pressed straight toward the confused and whimpering young wife's slightly parted lips even as his own tongue again poised itself over the saliva-soaked lips of her cunt and his breath blew softly down over the still rigidly palpitating bud of her clitoris.
"All right, kid," he grunted between her thighs. "We'll do it your way. Take it in your mouth."
Oh my God, thought Isabel. This was even worse. But she knew she had no choice. She'd let Jack go too far and she couldn't cut him off without giving him some kind of relief, and she could only justify her action with the rationalization that at least she wasn't really letting him fuck her. Perhaps it would have been small consolation to Bill, but it was all she had to offer.
"Suck it!" Jack said in a deep lusting voice, channeling his anger into his desire as he plunged his searing tongue back into the depths of Isabel's still eagerly accepting cunt.
The young wife's brain was a mass of lewdly inspired erotic images as the scintillating contact was resumed, and in her deliriously heightened longing she found herself actually searching with her lips for the tip of the giant cock pressed down so near to her face. Then she gasped from the renewed contact of Jack's teeth on the quivering bud of her clitoris, reaching at the same time to seize the palpitating hardness of his cock with her hand and guide it straight down to her mouth.
Now she had reached the moment of truth. Jack had resumed the wanton licking and sucking down between her thighs, but Isabel knew he wouldn't keep it up for long if she didn't do her part. But still she hesitated for a moment before flicking her tongue cautiously from her mouth, searching over the purplish head until she found the slitted glans at the tip to flick up a tangy little droplet of seminal fluid that had seeped forth in his building anticipation.
And at that mild contact the rubbery flesh of the thickly rising phallus jerked to an even greater hardness, seeming to flex and tremble in her hand as if it were a living rifle. Holding tightly to it, Isabel experienced a strange sense of danger. She was venturing again into the unknown, and she promised herself that though she would never yield to the greater temptation to actually let this man fuck her, she would suck him without restraint or inhibition. She would give him every bit as much pleasure in return as he was giving her now.
Letting the building spasms in her belly continue to grow as Jack's greedily swirling tongue worked with greater intensity in and out of her cunt, Isabel worked her own tongue slowly over and around the blood-filled cock-head, wetting it with her saliva as if it were a delicious sucker. She used her tongue tip like a little velvet whip, lashing out at the sensitive head until it jerked and cringed as if in tortured response. Then, savoring her mischievous experimentation, she lay her tongue beneath the underside of the lust-hardened pole of flesh and opened her mouth wide to take the throbbing cock-head straight up inside.
Then Jack flicked his hips forward as the hugely throbbing tip of his cock-filled her mouth, and in a sudden violent motion he pushed a good half the length of the enormous shaft all the way down her tongue to the back of her throat. The pinioned brunette gulped, almost gagging from the pressure at the back of her mouth. She fought instinctively against the gagging effect, closing her jaws around the swollen cock, clamping her teeth down hard as the pressure continued. She licked and rolled her tongue defensively around in her mouth, jerking her head back to leave long white marks on the surface of the huge penis-shaft from the force of her teeth pushing the blood away from the flesh.
But she was getting accustomed to the foreign presence and she shoved her head up from the mattress to plunge her lips almost all the way to the base of the long column of hardness. She was taking it into her mouth as far as it would go, and the choking sensation she felt in her throat was enough to make her eager to do whatever necessary to push Jack beyond the brink of control, even if the result was her being forced to take his cum in her mouth and have it exploding hotly down her tongue and throat.
All the while Jack's face was still pressed tightly down between her loins, and he realized she was nearing climax. There was no doubt about it from the increased twisting and jerking of her buttocks and the even more fervent ministrations of her lips and tongue on the hotly straining shaft of his cock, and her building excitement only prompted him to intensify his own cunt-sucking. He dug his tongue deeper and deeper into the moistened slit between her thighs, at the same time working his hips even more wildly above her face to fuck his cock ruthlessly into her eagerly sucking mouth.
Now Isabel's lushly tensiled lips were grotesquely distended by the huge presence of Jack's wildly thrusting cock, and she took it greedily into the warmth of her mouth, her lips folding inward from the surging pressure as it rammed again and again to her throat. They were both building rapidly toward climax now and she squeezed his balls tightly in her hand, pleading silently for the hot sticky cum they contained, her own hungry belly seeming to take flight into an ecstasy she had never considered possible. Every muscle, every nerve and ragged fiber of her being had become suddenly hyper-sensitive. She experienced a fantastic and overwhelming surge of sensation ripping through her with shattering eroticism. She was soaring, bursting, exploding from deep within herself with all the extravagance of a fire-works display as the screaming release flooded her pulsating cuntal passage with hotly gurgling feminine liquid.
And at almost the same time Jack's tremendous cock swelled finally to full size as he pushed it to the hilt into her throat. Her mouth closed tightly around the hard thick shaft and her hand clawed hungrily at his naked buttocks as if to pull it in even deeper. Then at last his balls let go, his sperm surging up the length of his convulsing penis to blast out from the hugely swollen tip like a racing bullet from the barrel of a rifle.
Isabel gulped from the sudden splashing as Jack pumped drop after drop of white hot cum into her mouth and throat. She was really in danger of choking now and she swallowed as rapidly as she could, tasting the pungent heat of his squirting cum as her own body underwent a wild and fantastic spasm of even more shattering bliss. She lapped servilely at the spewing and jerking cock-head, licking and pulling in all its hot delicious sperm to swallow it deep in her quivering belly. And the fury of their perfectly timed orgasm seemed to go on forever and ever.
Then at last it was over. Isabel's pussy contracted one last time around Jack's tongue, and at the same time she dropped her head back to the mattress, letting his deflating cock slip from her lips. He groaned tiredly, rolling off her. Isabel closed her eyes, then opened them, staring up in dismay and regret as reality gradually returned. Then abruptly she sat up. She retrieved her bikini top and put it on, then the bottom.
"Hey, what's the rush?" Jack said as she walked out the door of the hut.
When she got back to the pool she found Carrol sitting at the table drinking and Bill lying where he'd been before, though from the water that coated his body she could see he'd just been in the pool.
"Have a nice swim?" he asked casually.
She looked back at him, stone-faced. "Yes," she said. "Very nice."
She walked to the end of the pool and dove.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was Wednesday afternoon three days later when Isabel got the call from Carrol. She hadn't seen her friend, if after what had happened they were still friends, since Sunday. She and Bill had left, at Isabel's insistence, shortly after Jack got back to the pool. Jack, she thought. He'd acted exactly as if nothing had happened. He'd gone over and kissed Carrol. He'd chatted casually with her and Bill. He'd described their swim in exaggerated detail. And all the time she had been so ashamed she couldn't help but imagine it clearly showed on her face. And her guilt remained. She was nervous and tense around Bill. The one time they had made love she'd had to fake her climax, though Bill's love-making was as adept as ever. And she spent her afternoons alone at home, not daring to even venture out of the house. And then, Wednesday, she picked up the phone and heard her friend on the other end of the line.
"Isabel. I want you to come over. Now."
Isabel hesitated for a moment, hardly knowing what to say, but sensing from the sound of Carrol's voice that something was terribly wrong. "W-what is it?" she managed at last.
There was a moment's silence. She was thinking of Jack, thinking that still, in spite of all her guilt, she wanted him. She wanted to really make love to him just one time, just to get it out of her system so she could resume her normal life with Bill. It was a compulsion, she thought. She thought of herself as a femme fatal, a Greta Garbo heroine in an old silent film. It seemed she was compelled to destroy - not only her own marriage but the engagement of her best friend.
"You've got to come," Carrol said at last, her voice quivering.
"Carrol. Carrol, the other day with... with Jack. We... we didn't go all the way. I promise. And... it won't happen again."
"Will you come or not?"
"Yes," she said after a moment. "I'll come."
Still not sure how she was going to face the wounded blonde, Isabel went to her bedroom and shed the housecoat she'd been wearing and slipped into a skirt and blouse. Unable to bear her nervousness, she went to the living room and poured herself a shot of scotch and ice, downed it quickly, then left. She walked briskly in the brilliant afternoon sunshine. Then, rounding the corner at the end of the block, she stopped. Parked in front of the third house up the street was Jack O'Niel's Jaguar.
Isabel could hardly get her breath. Her heart was pounding furiously and she experienced a constricting tightness in her throat as she was faced with the understanding of why her friend had really called her. And she knew it was true. Jack had forced her.
Isabel must have stood motionless, contemplating what she should do, for almost five minutes. Her first inclination was to turn back, yet at the same time an unexplainable masochistic force seemed to draw her toward the house. Nothing that can possibly happen between the three of us there can be good, she told herself. And yet she knew, finally, that she had to go. She had to find out what Jack wanted. She had to see it and hear it for herself, even if deep down inside she already knew.
Then she walked quickly across the street and up to the door. She started to ring the bell, then tried the knob and found it unlocked. She went into the foyer and down the hall, pausing at the kitchen door.
Inside Carrol sat at the table, a drink before her. Jack stood leaning against the sink, smiling at her in his familiar arrogant way, his eyes trailing appreciatively down the lush ripe curves of her body. She looked back at him, almost expressionless, though she couldn't hide the strange excitement flashing in her eyes. Then she shifted her gaze to the blonde.
"Carrol, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I promise nothing... nothing will ever happen again."
Carrol sipped her drink, then looked slowly up. "It's not your fault, Isabel. I don't blame you. And it has to happen. I knew it was going to happen the first time I saw you together."
"No."
"Yes it is. Don't lie to yourself. It's inevitable. So go on."
"No!"
"Go on, please, and get it over with!" He came around the table. He poured her a drink, scotch on ice, and held the glass toward her. She wondered if that was the truth. Was it inevitable? Perhaps it was. She took the glass and drank, all of it. Even Carrol said it was. Even Carrol knew that her only chance with the man she loved lay in her and Jack following through, getting it over with, getting it out of the way. She handed the glass back and he sat it on the table. She looked at Carrol.
"All right."
She had no excuse, she thought as he put his arm around her waist and guided her down the hall to the bedroom. The other afternoon she had been almost drunk. What had happened had happened without her intending it. She'd been playing a game, and only in the end had it ceased to be a game and become real. But this was different, she thought, and in her resignation she felt a sudden release, a freedom, almost even an elation. This was no game, and she knew it. And she was making the choice, though it was the only choice she could have made - for better or for worse.
He guided her through and closed the door behind them. They stood, facing each other, looking into each other's eyes. "You don't care about Carrol, do you?" she said, thinking at that moment that she hated him, almost as much as she hated herself.
"Carrol understands," he said. He smiled.
She laughed softly and thought: We are really very much alike. We're bad, both of us.
Then he began to take off her clothes, slowly flicking the buttons open down the front of her blouse, parting the material off the ripe, brassiere-encumbered mounds of her upthrust breasts, pushing it off her shoulders to let it fall to the floor behind her. He reached behind her back, deftly undoing the snap of her brassiere, and she shrugged her shoulders slightly to shed the straps off her shoulders so her full upstanding voluptuous breasts burst suddenly into freedom, their contact with the air causing her ripe mauve-colored nipples to swell almost instantly to tingling rigidity. Then he undid the zipper down the side of her skirt and as the garment dropped to her ankles, she stepped out of it and kicked off her shoes, leaving herself completely naked except for her thinly revealing, low hanging bikini panties.
Then Jack stepped back and, never taking his eyes from her body, began to strip off his own clothes. Isabel watched with rapidly building anticipation as he peeled off his shirt to reveal his muscular torso, then undid his trousers and pulled them down to expose the already lustfully stirring hardness of his cock surging up almost frighteningly in the tight constriction of his jockey shorts. A little whimper of mingled fear and excitement rose in her throat as she remembered how big it really was, and again she found herself wondering if she would really be capable of taking it inside her cunt. Then she dropped her hands to the tight elastic waistband of her panties, pulling them slowly down off the ripe roundness of her tightly formed buttocks and the inviting vee of hair between her thighs. And at the same time Jack got out of his shorts to stand completely naked before her, his cock now looming up almost its full length in lewdly pulsing erection.
Her breath coming in hoarse strained gasps, Isabel let her eyes rove searchingly over Jack's bronze-tanned body. She was finally going to do it. She was going all the way. She was going to be completely unfaithful to her husband, just this one time. And she would worry about the consequences later.
Then Jack took her hand and led her to the bed. Beside it, she turned again to face him, and he pushed her gently down to a reclining position on her back, then climbed up to lay beside her. Closing her eyes, Isabel reached out with her hands, exploring with wonder over the rippling muscles of his torso, savoring the clean male smell of him, her soft lips that only three days ago had nurtured and sucked his enormous cock to lewd ejaculation now clasping hungrily over his mouth. She lifted one of her legs over his firmly flexing him, pressing her pubic mound tightly against his thigh with a provocative undulating motion of her hips. Then greedily she pulled him toward her until the length of his hard male cock was prodding insistently up against the softly-haired mound of her pussy.
Isabel sighed with forbidden pleasure, squirming even more tightly against the hotly breathing male until the gleaming lust-swollen head of his penis was twitching right against the passion-drenched lips of her cunt. Now she was acutely aware of its size, and yet her fear only seemed to increase the
delirium of her lust. She kissed him again, her tongue snaking eagerly into his mouth as her hand clasped the firmness of his naked buttocks to draw him even closer and more tightly against her.
"Oh yes," she purred softly. "I want it. I want it." Her hungry pelvis began to swivel against him in a prematurely abandoned fucking motion, and she wriggled up on the bed until the lust-bloated cock lurched uncontrollably into even greater pressure with the flushed entrance of her vaginal orifice. Then she slid higher up on the bed until her swollen, tight-nippled breasts were even with Jack's face. She cupped his chin in her hand to draw his mouth closer to one of her distended little nipple, her eyes wild with anticipation as she pressed the full, smoothly tanned mound toward his lips. "Suck it," she moaned. "Suck my tit."
Grinning, Jack obliged, and even further maddening sensations raced through her belly and loins as she watched his lips part from the contact of the bud-like nipple point brushing against it. Then hungrily he took it into his mouth, sucking ravenously, his teeth biting teasingly against the hard little bud.
"Ooooooh yes," she whimpered, squirming her sensuous body as his tongue swiped eagerly over the rigidly swelling button. He sucked at first one of them, then the other, rubbing his face into the deep wide valley between the voluptuous nipple peaked mounds, his cock twitching even harder as she inched her hand down between them to seize the thick shaft of his fully erected cock, feeling it seem to jerk to even more frightening size from the tantalizing contact.
Isabel basked for a few moments longer in the joy of having her breasts licked and sucked. Then, when she thought she could no longer bear the exquisitely teasing sensation, she tore her tingling nipple of Jack's mouth and wriggled again downward on the bed. Her hand stroked forcibly up and down the smooth taut flesh of his penis for another instant, and again she experienced a twinge of fear as she imagined the feel of it ripping up inside her. She still didn't see how she would be able to take it, but now her desire over-rode her fear and she wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him over on top of her until his hard-muscled chest pressed down heavily against the fullness of her breasts.
Isabel waited breathlessly, eagerly spreading her thighs as Jack settled down between them and situated himself in a push-up stance over her surrendered and spread-eagled form.
"Yes," she purred, staring up through glossed-over eyes. "Fuck me. Fuck me!"
Jack's face swam before Isabel's lust-glazed eyes as he leered at her in triumph. She felt the virilely frightening hardness of his engorged penis slipping down the full length of her excitedly dampened vaginal crevice, the lurching head resting almost straight up between her quivering buttocks and insinuate itself into the moistened lips of her cunt. Then he shoved his buttocks forward and she shuddered from the sudden increase of the pressure against the restrictive tightness of her loins.
"Oooooooh!" she gasped. "Easy! Easy!"
Jack's grin broadened as he saw the surprise in her eyes, and instead of relenting the pressure, he shoved forward even harder, seizing her wrists at the same time to pinion them above her head. Then with a wild thrill of conquest he drove his hips down against her frantically squirming loins, feeling her tremble in pain and fear as his tingling cock-head wedged itself up between the tightly resisting lips of her open-splayed cunt.
"Aaaaggggghhhhh!" Isabel cried. "Oh my God, it's too big!"
Slowly the straining cock-shaft wormed its way up into her tightly clasping vaginal sheath, its strength and power sweeping aside all her resistance to spread and stretch her lust-seared vaginal walls until she thought she would pass out from the sheer sensation. It seemed to burrow into her forever, filling her endlessly as she lay helplessly quivering in the raw and tantalizing promise of release, and she groaned hoarse as she at last felt the hard rubbery head lodge tightly against her cervix and Jack's swollen balls bounced lightly down between the naked cheeks of her ass.
"Aaahhhhh," she sighed out, feeling a slight relief now that the initial penetration was completed. Her beautiful mouth was loose and panting and she was wide-eyed as a lust-crazed animal, her thighs scissoring slowly open and closed on his flanks, her head flailing gently from side to side on the pillow. She was afraid to even move for the hotly intruding instrument buried deep up between her thighs, and she could only hope Jack would give her time to adjust. But he still held her arms pinioned helplessly above her head, and from the way he was leering down at her she knew she could expect little mercy. Then, as if to warn her, he flexed and his cock seemed to surge up even deeper into her loins, causing a shudder to course the hold length of her naked body. And a moment later he began to move.
He flicked his hips back and forth in a slow teasing motion, drawing the length of his straining cock almost all the way out of her, leaving just the head buried between her quivering cunt-lips before he surged slowly back up into the warmth and tightness, sweeping aside all her renewed resistance until his pubic mound mashed hard against her own and he was embedded again to the hilt. He kissed her hard on the lips, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth, the rhythm of his buttocks gradually increasing. He was panting heavily and a coat of sweat was breaking out on his muscular body as his stone-hard cock-shaft pistoned again and again into the coral-hued slit of her cunt.
"Oooooh," Isabel moaned, gradually accustoming herself to the obscene intrusion. Her breasts joggled beneath Jack's face and her dark eyes opened and closed in dazed passion. He knew he was hurting her. But she was enjoying the hurt, the sheer sensation of his sensuously stretching cock, and he could feel her begin to respond with a slow undulating of her buttocks up from the bed that only further increased the scintillating friction in her loins. Then she groaned lecherously and thrust her pelvis up in a wanton squirming motion to meet his driving thrust, grinding her pubic mound hard against his in urgent stimulation of her twitching little clitoris as she began to hunch and buck beneath him in response.
Now Isabel's loins and belly were a boiling inferno of erotic sensation and she felt as though she were sinking forever into a nether-world of perverted pleasure. She relished her wrong-doing and the deliciously frenzied movements of Jack's cock plunging in and out of her loins were provoking her every instant closer to the orgasm she'd been unable to attain the last time she'd made love to Bill. Her eyelids fluttered deliciously as she twisted beneath her adulterous lover, lost in the intensity of her want, her excitement ever mounting as she clenched his cock into the most sensitive recesses of her moistly swollen inner vaginal tightness.
Jack could feel the pressure welling in his balls and he thought if he didn't cum soon they would blow apart. He tensed his muscles and moved suddenly into a series of longer and more swiftly plunging strokes, ramming his hard rod of flesh again and again to the hilt into the aroused brunette's squirming cunt. He could feel his balls slapping against her puckered little anus and with his every lunge she thrashed even more rampantly beneath him. The wet flat smack of his thighs thudding against her upturned pelvis resounded through the room and he dazedly dropped his head to take one of her erectly pulsing nipples into his mouth and suck on it urgently to prompt even further moans of servile longing and submission to rise to her lips as they began their simultaneous rush toward climax.
Then suddenly Jack's cock began to flex and pulse even deeper up inside her. The hard rubbery head seemed to flare out until she feared it would tear straight up into her belly. For a moment she didn't know what was happening, and then she realized that he was about to cum. He was going to shoot his warm creamy semen into her voraciously accepting cunt. He was going to make her illicit adulterous act complete and just the thought made her shiver with lewd delight. Her hands darted down to grasp his driving buttocks and pull him even tighter against her, and at the same time she arched her open loins even higher onto his expanding cock, urging him on as she prepared to take everything he had.
She was going to cum too and a moment later the unfaithful housewife felt her own long-awaited climax begin to surge through her body with the force of an earthquake. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around Jack's pumping body, waving her buttocks wildly from side to side and spiraling her excited cunt frenziedly up and down on his hotly burrowing penis. The bedsprings squeaked in time to the slapping of their naked bodies and the gutteral sounds of their deep panting grunts and groans filled the room, mingling with the moist noises of his penis churning into her wetly sucking cunt.
Then suddenly she could hold back no longer. "I'm cumming," she cried. "Ooooh my God, I'm cuuuummmmminnnggg! I'm cuuummmmmmiiinn nnnnggggg!"
Her body quivered completely out of control and the rosy hue of her face brightened and dampened as her sobbing moan rose to a breathless sigh of ecstasy and her female fluids oozed wildly from her rippling vagina, drowning Jack's still urgently plunging member in a torrent of sticky warmth.
Then Jack felt his own climax begin to boil up from the depths of his bloated testicles. Launching a series of rapid staccato strokes, he jammed his heavily loaded cock all the way to the hilt into the hotly contracting depths of Isabel's cunt, feeling his sperm erupt deep up into her widely stretched vagina to mix obscenely with the fluids of her own shattering release.
CHAPTER SIX
She went back the next day. And she'd been back almost every day since, except Sunday, which she'd spent miserably with Bill. That was a week ago. She was going back today.
Sitting at the kitchen table, silently sipping a whiskey and ice, Isabel wondered if life would ever return to normal again. Because she wasn't happy. Jack O'Niel did not make her happy and she did not love him. She loved Bill. She loved him even more now than she had before, and she felt so guilty for the way she was wronging him that she could have torn her heart out. She felt so guilty she couldn't stand to be around him. They'd almost ceased completely to make love. They'd almost ceased completely to talk.
"But somehow it's all my own goddamn choosing," Isabel said aloud to herself, swearing uncharacteristically. She had begun something, and she still didn't know where it was going to lead, but she couldn't stop it yet. She'd already paid too high a price for her little adventure. She'd lost her best friend, for though Carrol tolerated her and Jack's escapade being carried on in her house, in her own bedroom, she and Isabel could no longer be comfortable together. And she was coming very close to estranging her husband. Though Bill had made no accusations directly, she was sure he was getting suspicious. His manner had changed in direct proportion to hers. He was brooding and resentful, and she sensed that his patience was wearing thin. She was hurting him. The suspicion he must feel would be enough to hurt him if he never confirmed its source, and she loathed herself for the way she was acting. But it seemed any attempt to make things better only made them worse. When, once, she mentioned to him that she liked Carrol's Fiance because he reminded her of her own older brother, he merely scowled and walked out of the room. And on one of the several afternoons when she'd stayed late over there and he'd been home when she returned, she'd volunteered the information that Jack hadn't been there. He looked at her silently for a moment, then remarked that his car was there. "Oh yes," she stammered. "He loaned it to Carrol." He studied her face for a moment, but she could hardly look him in the eye. And it was a hardly feasible explanation, as Carrol had a car of her own.
Isabel sighed and downed the rest of her drink. She consulted the clock above the stove, then rose. It was time to go. Jack and Carrol would be waiting for her.
Bill Miller pulled into the drive and cut off the ignition, got out of the car and walked into the house. He sensed that it was deserted even before he called Isabel's name and was answered by only silence. Well, he thought, looking forlornly down the hall, he'd expected as much. Not sure what to do, he absently consulted his watch. It was four o'clock. "Damn it," he muttered. If things ran true to form he couldn't expect her home until six or seven. She would come in, slightly high from alcohol, pretending she was surprised to see him back so early. And he would turn immediately cold and hostile. Nothing would be said, and the riff between them would grow only wider.
Slowly Bill turned and walked back to the door. Outside he hesitated again on the steps, but only briefly. Perhaps he was inviting a blow up, but he supposed he'd really been decided as to what he was going to do when he'd left the office. He knew she wouldn't be home, and he was determined to talk to her. So there was nothing to do but go over there and get her.
Bill lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, then strode down the steps to the street and started along the walk. Seeing the Jaguar parked in Carrol's drive as he rounded the corner, he hastened his footsteps, his heart beating heavily with his building nervousness. He didn't know what he expected to find. But he'd always let Isabel lead her own life and he'd never really been too curious about what she did in her free time. He'd never intruded unexpectedly, and for better or for worse that's what he was going to do today.
Reaching the door of the three-year-old house Carrol Haynes had received in the community property settlement when she'd gotten her divorce, Bill paused again and took a deep breath before he rang. He listened to the footsteps coming down the hall, then it opened and Carrol appeared, her face going white at the sight of him.
"Bill?" she gasped, not moving to open the screen.
He peered silently into the foyer, his eyes singling out Isabel's purse resting on the table just inside. She followed his gaze, also noting it, then looked back with despair and pushed open the screen.
"Come in. Come into the kitchen," she said, turning and starting down the hall. "Isabel is... in the bath," she said over her shoulder, then quickly looked away.
In the kitchen he noted the whiskey bottle, the one full glass and the two empties. She noted them also and cleared them quickly away. But the action only served to emphasize their significance. From the look on her pretty, now disturbed face, he thought she was just as aware of that as he.
"W-would you like a drink?"
"No."
"I guess she'll be out in a minute," she said. "Here," she added, starting to rise. "I'll go call her."
"No!" She was deterred by the authority in his voice. She settled back into her seat and stared down at the floor, as if enthralled by the sight of her own feet. "I'm in no hurry," Bill added. It was almost as though in his own anger and suspicion he relished her discomfort.
Perhaps five minutes passed in silence before he heard the door open down the hall and recognized his wife's laughter. They listened to the approaching footsteps, two pairs of footsteps, and Carrol fidgeted nervously with her hands. Bill looked up, stone-faced, at the door as Isabel and Jack O'Niel appeared.
"Bill?" she gasped, her face going momentarily white as she stopped in her tracks.
Jack O'Niel smiled. "Hello Bill." He came forward and shook his hand, to which Bill submitted absently, never taking his eyes from his wife's face.
"We... we were looking at Jack's old college scrapbook," she stammered.
Out of the corner of his eye Bill watched Carrol's visible flinch.
"What are y-you doing here?" Isabel went on, still completely uncomposed.
He stood up. "I've got to talk to you. Come on. We're going home."
He ushered her out, saying her goodbyes to Carrol as they went. Jack followed them to the door and called Bill's name to detain him for a moment. "I'm having a little party this weekend. Some old college friends. I hope you and Isabel will come."
"We'll see," Bill said, hardly looking back.
He walked swiftly, pushing her along beside him, back to the house. They didn't speak until they were inside. She went to the living room and poured herself a drink and he followed her to the door. She drank, then turned to face him.
"W-what did you want to talk to me about?"
He looked at her silently, wondering if what he suspected could really be true. He had gone there to find it out, but he still didn't want to believe it. And he couldn't imagine how Carrol would allow it to go on right in her own house. He was supposed to be her fiance, unless that was just some elaborately conceived cover.
"If you want to have an affair with him," he began at last, "go ahead and do it. Just try not to lose your head."
She laughed, a nervous little burst of laughter. "Have an affair? With who, for God's sake?"
"With Jack."
She took a quick gulp of her drink. She looked down at the floor, then up again. Then suddenly she smiled and shook her head. "Oh Bill. Is that what's been bothering you these last few days? You think there's something between me and Jack?"
He said nothing.
She drank again and set the glass on the bar. She walked slowly toward him. "Oh no, Bill! No, that is impossible. I suppose I can see how you might think it. I see it now. But Jack is Carrol's man. I could never have an affair with Jack. I couldn't have an affair with anybody, because you're the only man I love. But even if I could do something like that it wouldn't be with Jack. Jack and I are just friends, because... because we both love Carrol and because we have the swimming in common and... everything."
She came suddenly to him. She pressed her body against him and kissed him on the lips. He stood stiff, unmoving. Then she went past him and down the hall to the bedroom. After a moment he followed. The shower was running and through the open door of the bath he could see her silhouetted naked body on the curtain. He stood still and stiff, trying to believe her, still not sure he could.
Isabel trembled beneath the warm water, her heart pounding in her naked breasts. She didn't know what was wrong, why she had lied. She knew that just now, just this moment, she'd had the chance to straighten everything out. All it would have taken was the truth. She could have told the truth and ended the affair. She could have convinced Bill to go have an affair of his own, if he needed that, to make him feel better. But instead she had lied. And somehow, the lie had excited her. In spite of the fact that only moments ago she'd been in bed with Jack, she could feel an urgent tingling start to surge out of control through her loins. Oh, it was evil, she knew. But the evil only increased her excitement. And this really would be a new experience for her. She was going to seduce Bill. She was going to do whatever she had to to get him to make love to her, and by that she was going to convince him that she had not made love to Jack.
It would be the first time she'd ever been to bed with two men the same day.
Outside the door, Bill felt his own heartbeat hasten as he watched his wife soap her naked body. He was still angry, but his anger only seemed to contribute to his lust. He still didn't know if she was telling the truth, but one way or another he was going to fuck her. He was really going to fuck the hell out of her today. Then Isabel emerged from the shower, looking out through the door with lust-narrowed eyes as she toweled off her voluptuously naked body, then dropped the towel and walked slowly through.
Her heart pounding furiously, the unfaithful wife dropped down on the bed. Bill stood still where he was for a moment, just staring silently down at her, then he came over and sat beside her. A moan welled in her throat as his hands reached out to grab her and rove brutally over the yielding nakedness of her flesh, his fingers digging frighteningly into the softly quivering mounds of her naked breasts. He stroked over her hips in rough abrasive gestures which evoked, in spite of their gruffness, a familiar tingling response through her suddenly throbbing vagina. A thrill of excitement rippled over the entire surface of her naked skin and for a moment she tried to let herself imagine this was going to be like the lovemaking they had experienced before, before her self-destructive compulsion had in one quick week almost rent asunder their married life together. Then, just as she was beginning to enjoy the caress, she felt Bill's fingers cruelly tighten on her hips and suddenly against her will she found herself being turned over face down on the bed.
He forced her to kneel up on her knees, her head pressed down into the pillow, and in spite of all her efforts to resist her nose and mouth were buried into the soft material so she couldn't even offer a vocal protest. She could feel the trembling of Bill's hands as he'd moved her into position, and she realized that he was even angrier than she'd thought. She remembered the brutal way he'd made love to her the night after the party when she first met Jack O'Niel, and she had her first inkling that this afternoon he might be even more aggressive.
Then she shivered as she felt his hands working at her defenselessly proffered ass-cheeks, his fingers digging like claws into the skin between them. "Oh, be careful," she moaned. "You're hurting me!"
The strain on her body was agonizing as he used his thumbs to separate the satin-skinned mounds of her buttocks, and she heard the quick intake of his breath as the secret warm crevice between them came fully into view. This was something she hadn't been prepared for and she hoped he would be satisfied without further humiliating her before his eyes. But then she. received an even greater shock as Bill leaned suddenly forward and she felt the hotly flicking tip of his tongue licking wetly right up between the widespread, helplessly proffered mounds of her defenselessly clenching buttocks. A low gasp escaped her and she wiggled forward in a frantic attempt to elude the teasing sensation.
"Hold still!" Bill growled, digging his teeth animal-like into the yielding flesh of her ass.
"Ouch!", she cried. "Stop it. Please! That hurts."
He held on for a moment longer, clinging tightly to her soft skin with his teeth. Then he let her go and once again Isabel dared hope she'd been spared. But seconds later she realized that was not the case. Again she felt her painfully quivering buttocks being forced apart from the outward pressure of his thumbs. And then her eyes bulged in disbelief as she felt the distinct prodding of his out-stretched finger right against her cringing little anus. She couldn't imagine what he was going to do, but she tried to edge away from the intolerable pressure against the tiny rubber-like opening, and she felt a strange terror creeping like cold fingers up her spine. Fear numbed her brain and paralyzed her limbs and her mouth felt suddenly chalky dry.
"No, Bill. Please, noooooo!" she wailed as she felt his finger press harder and suddenly slip with a pop right up into the crinkled little hole.
Bill stared down hungrily at the smooth swells of his wife's subserviently spread ass-cheeks and the wildly exciting view of his middle finger half embedded into her tight back passage. He grinned savagely to himself as he relished the act to which he was about to subject her, driven to sadism by the gnawing suspicions that continued to plague him in spite of her insistent denial. Then he grunted with his own building anticipation as he thrust his finger forward again, slowly sinking it deeper, burrowing it inward until it was buried to the last knuckle deep into her rubbery anal tightness.
Ignoring her cries of fear and pain, Bill dug brutally into Isabel's cringing rectal depths, intent on shaming and humiliating her for the unhappiness she'd put him through this last week. Her tiny puckered little asshole was warm and throbbing around his finger, but it was only as he felt its thrilling caress that he became fully convinced to carry through the fantasy that had seized his consciousness when he saw her emerge from the shower. He couldn't be sure her apparent willingness wasn't just a cover-up, and just in case he was going to give her a little more than she expected. He was going to fuck her from the rear, and not just dog-fashioned either. It was going to be in the asshole, the only orifice she had that still remained unused.
Isabel was in an agony of mortification and pain. It was too much. What he was doing to her was inhuman and sick, and desperately she tried to crawl free and dislodge his painfully skewering finger from her rectum and free herself from the terrible impalement.
"Keep still, goddamn it!" Bill rasped again. "Keep still or I'll take off my shoe and cram my whole goddamn foot up your ass!"
The sobbing brunette suddenly became motionless. He really wasn't kidding, and she knew there was no hope in struggling further. She didn't want to make him any angrier than he already was, and hot tears of misery coursed down her face as she reminded herself that actually she deserved all the pain he might want to inflict. He hated her, and he had every right to after the way she had deceived him.
Isabel's kneeling body felt cramped and her tiny anal opening was throbbing unbearably, but as she realized her own guilt her pain became nothing compared to her mental agony. And this, she realized, was the answer. By allowing Bill to hurt her as she knew her extramarital affair was already hurting him, she might be able to expiate her terrible guilt. And she dwelled on this positive angle so intently that she hardly even noticed when Bill finally withdrew his finger from her anus. She only half-consciously noted the sound of his zipper being undone, and she was completely unprepared as she suddenly felt the hotly pulsing head of his cock replace the finger up in the warmly forbidden crack.
Bill gazed leeringly down at his hugely throbbing penis poised at Isabel's tightly clenched anal ring. He recalled noting from the bulge in Jack O'Niel's bikini bathing suit that the other man was really well-hung, perhaps even better than himself, and that aspect of the situation had also caused him considerable discomfort the last few days. If Jack had been getting into his wife, then he, Bill, might be suffering from the comparison. But as he positioned his lust-swollen cock-head even harder against the small, fearfully closed ring of Isabel's anus he saw that when he got it into her his penis was going to seem the size of a baseball bat. It was going to hurt her, he knew, but maybe it would also teach her a lesson.
Then with an angry growl, Bill lunged forward to shove his blood-heavy penis even harder against the slavishly clenching little opening of his wife's rectum, trying with all his might to insert its menacing thickness into the impossibly tiny aperture. At first it seemed that no matter how hard he pushed he wasn't going to be able to get it in. It blunted against the tightly resisting orifice or slipped downward toward her wetly moistened cunt. He heard Isabel's muffled gasp of pain turn to a moan of alarm as he rammed forward a second time, but still found it futile. He hesitated, cursing under his breath in frustration, and then, blinded by his perverse lust and fury, he drove his hips forward with all his strength to shove them straight up against her clenching ass-cheeks. Heedless of her cries of terror and pain, he lunged all the way up against her, ignoring everything but his overwhelming compulsion to hurt her.
"A a a a aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh! My God, Bill! Stop! Please stop!"
Her shrill scream reverberated loudly through the room as Bill succeeded in popping just the head of his massively palpitating cock up inside her vainly resisting anal opening. Grunting, he held his blood-swollen shaft positioned there and flexed his hips forward again, driving relentlessly inward to ram his long hard penis deeper and deeper up into her heatedly cringing anus.
"Stop. My God, you're killing me," Isabel moaned again as her white buttocks levered up, impaled helplessly by the brutally surging rod of flesh.
Pain jolted through her body like an electric shock and for the moment nothing seemed to matter but that she rid herself of this cruelly thrusting pole of flesh surging in between her naked buttocks. But her struggles were fruitless as Bill continued to plow his thick penis ever deeper into her tightly resisting back passage, his fingers digging like talons into her naked and tender ass-cheeks to hold her still in position before him.
Inch by agonizing inch, he fucked his long hard cock up into her rectum, his eyes closing in his exertion, beads of perspiration breaking out all over his face.
"Ooooooh God! Stop it!" she screamed, her beautiful face twisting in torment until she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily against the quaking softness of her ass. The cruel fleshy, thickness was buried in her to the hilt and now there was no escape.
Behind her, Bill snickered sadistically and flexed his penis deep within the confines of Isabel's stretched anal orifice. She heard him laughing harshly and she groaned in anguish and humiliation as he flexed deep inside her. The excitement she had felt before had been ripped away by the reality of the overpowering presence of that pulsating rigidity thrust deep in her anus. She had never felt so soiled in her life and Bill only added insult to injury as he began to saw rhythmically in and out of the tiny hole, sinking his cock viciously into the unnaturally impaled depths of her obscenely violated rectum.
Sobs of pain and misery began to fall from Isabel's lips as he lunged the full length of his punishing rod again and again up into her asshole with searing smooth strokes. He gloated over the sight of her pinkly clasping flesh pulling out with the thick base of his cock every time he withdrew it for another violent lunge up inside. She was feeling it, all right, he thought triumphantly. Now he was really getting to her.
But to her amazement, Isabel gradually became aware that the agony she'd initially experienced at the cruel penetration was beginning to diminish. The pain was becoming strangely almost pleasurable and she was beginning to derive a weird masochistic enjoyment from his skewering thrusts into her ass. Tentatively now she moved back to meet him, and as she began to respond she felt the first stirrings of a new and crazy passion she'd never known before in her life. She was expiating her guilt and she was beginning to enjoy it. She began to twist and wave her slavishly upthrust buttocks back violently against him as if in lewd invitation for him to fuck into her even deeper and harder. Her ass-cheeks were swinging m tiny rotating circles, clenching tightly around his cock with a slight throb of her rectum every time he lunged against her.
Sweat poured freely down Bill's face now as he stared in sadistic delight at the sight of his balls smacking resoundingly against Isabel's moist cunt every time he sunk his penis into her wide-split nether crevice. He was doing it to her, sodomizing her like he'd never done it to anyone in his life, and she was loving it. She wiggled her buttocks wildly and the long dark locks of her hair whipped softly over her shoulders as she bucked in frantic effort to take more and more of his lewdly vanquishing cock up into the tight warm hole of her rectum.
"Oh fuck me," she moaned beneath him as he pressed forward as far as he could, pulling the softly yielding cheeks of her buttocks wide apart to better reveal the forbidden little orifice to his gaze. He shoved deeper and deeper into her, holding his penis embedded far up inside and flexing it teasingly to prompt additional impassioned squirmings of her buttocks back against his loins.
With long smooth strokes, Bill resumed the lewd pistoning into his wife's quivering anus. He rammed into her hard and deep with powerful lunges that wracked her body down against the bed. The sweat from his forehead spilled onto her lovely hollowing back, glistening on her soft amber skin. His breath came in short strained gasps and he gripped the tops of her thighs with his fingers, squeezing with all his might to pull her back over his hotly expanding cock as though he were fitting on a boot. And he relished the animal groans of mixed pleasure and torment with which she responded to his lewd assault.
Isabel waved her buttocks joyfully back against her husband's pounding thrusts, her mind blurred by the intensity of the sensation coursing through her naked flesh. She felt almost no pain now, just an exquisite warm wetness in the crevice of her ass-cheeks, and she seemed filled as she'd never been before. She was his again, his completely to do with as he wished, and he possessed her in a way Jack O'Niel never could. She had given Jack her body, but now she was offering Bill her soul, and it was a joy for her to submit even to this cruel and perverted animal-style rape. She was loving every minute of it. She wanted him to cum. She wanted him to cum inside her, to shoot his great load of seething cum deep up into her virginal rectum. And she strained back eagerly against his burgeoning penis as she felt it throb to an even greater size and hardness, stretching the muscles of her mutilated anus almost beyond human endurance.
"Oh cum in me, I love you. I love you Bill, you're the greatest lover in the world," she cried deliriously as she felt him thrust the full length of his rock-hard cock up into her rectum, his body jerking convulsively from his building tension, his hands tearing at her flesh in wild abandon.
Then Isabel screamed with delight as the first hotly squirting droplets of his thick-shooting cum began to spurt hotly up into the furthermost depths of her ravished rectum. It surged through her body like a volcanic eruption, warming her belly like a tingling hot whirlpool bath as he shoved forward with a mighty thrust that made his bloated balls dance over her stiffly erected clitoris, setting off her own answering explosion of climax.
Isabel's body tensed and shuddered as the long-awaited peak of orgasmic sensation was finally achieved. Then she gasped as she felt his limply deflating shaft being slowly withdrawn from her flooded nether channel. There was a slight wet sucking sound as it slipped out from between the full clenching moons of her buttocks with a lewd slurping sensation. Then a sudden rush of cool air washed over her loins as Bill sagged and rolled off and collapsed on the bed beside her.
Snuggling gratefully against him, she told herself that now everything was all right. She had paid for her sins - for those she had committed in the past, for those still yet to be done.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bill Miller downed the rest of his scotch and made his way through the dancing couples back to the long table laid out with plates of hors d'oeuvres. His left eyelid drooping conspicuously, he gazed down the length of it. Most of the plates were wiped nearly clean. A few of them had been turned into ashtrays. That was something Bill had never been able to stand. People who put their cigarettes out in what was left of their food. His general disgust manifest in his face, he made his way along to the bowl of black olives, scooped up several and popped them one by one into his mouth.
Then he returned to the bar and poured himself a drink. He looked up at the exposed, steeply slanting roof with the rugged wooden beams. He drank again and watched a man on the couch slide his hand beneath a woman's skirt. Across the room his wife was surrounded by men, Jack O'Niel and several of his friends. She was, as she always had to be, the center of attention. Her face was dark and lovely, flushed slightly from the alcohol she'd drunk. She was smiling, first at one of them, then at another. She was talking and after a moment he discerned that she was telling a joke. He watched her goose one of the muscular men in the stomach as she delivered the punch-line.
Bill scowled as he listened to the guffaws that followed. He stared dully at a muscular, hairy forearm that slid around Isabel's waist. Not Jack's - one of his friends. If Jack O'Niel hadn't actually ever made the Olympic swimming team, there were a couple of guys here tonight who had, though their prime was years ago and by most of the world they were forgotten. Bill had never heard of them, and he wouldn't have cared if he had. But Isabel knew all about them. "Isn't it wonderful," she told him earlier in the night, once, when they'd passed, he thought, like ships passing in the fog in the night, blowing their mournful horns. "These guys," she said, "they're celebrities."
"They're gorillas," Bill said to himself and walked on to the bar.
And he was here only as a chaperone. He hadn't wanted to come, and he knew now it had been a mistake for him to let her drag him along. He chuckled sardonically as he remembered what she had said: "Jack wants you to come. You just can't refuse. He especially told me to be sure and bring you along."
I don't give a fuck what Jack wants, he thought at the time. But he said nothing. He came, because she said that if he didn't she would come with Carrol. If she came without him, he knew she would never make it home. And if she didn't make it home, she would sleep with Jack O'Niel, if she hadn't slept with him already. She would sleep with him and she would lie about it, as she'd been lying, he knew, about so many things the last week and a half. And that would be the end. That would be the last straw for him. Perhaps, he thought, it would be better that way. Perhaps it would never work out between them anymore. Maybe the sooner they got it over with the better.
And the funny thing was, he knew deep down inside she still loved him.
Bill finished his drink slowly. He focused his gaze on Carrol Haynes, sitting alone and morose in one of the easy chairs, an empty drink in her hand. She was just as bored as he was, he thought. And she didn't even have the option of leaving. He'd heard her remark that she'd driven down with Jack this morning. It was her who had done the hors d'oeuvres that had been turned into dirty ashtrays.
Isabel was telling another joke, but now the music had changed and he couldn't hear her. Only the laughter and that hairy forearm again slipping about her waist told him when she'd reached the punch line, and when she reached it he drank the rest of his drink, put a cigarette in his mouth and lit the filter and threw it away in disgust, then made his way through the dancing couples to the little gathering against the wall.
"Bill, old buddy!" It was Jack, the only one to immediately acknowledge him.
"Oh Bill," Isabel said, turning around to face him. "Isn't it the most wonderful party."
"It's great!" He looked at Jack. "This really is the greatest party I've ever been to." Jack shrugged. It was obvious he understood. "Let's go," Bill said, looking back at Isabel.
It was almost like it always was. He always came and got her, about this time. She always protested and he always insisted. They always had a fight and he always won. But just watching the look of sheer incredulity that came over her face was enough to tell him that this time it was going to be different. The difference was not perhaps that great, but it was crucial and it was telling. It was like that one point in the bottom of the ninth inning of a tied baseball game, and the game was the seventh game of the World Series and the team had already played a hundred and seventy-odd games that year and there had been hundreds and hundreds of points but now this point was the only one that counted. Before, Bill won the arguments. He was in control. He was going to lose this one, and that was to relinquish the control.
"How can you think of leaving?" she was saying. "How can you dream of it?" She was looking at him as if the mere suggestion was perverse. "Look around, for Christ's sakes! The party is just getting started."
"No," he said. "The party's over."
She had turned away. She said something to one of the men, one of the guys from the Olympics whatever year that was. Then she looked back. "What'd you say?"
"I said the party's over. I'm going home. Do you want to come or not?"
"No."
"All right, then stay."
He turned and started away, stopped and looked back when she called his name: "Bill!"
"What?"
"Bill, what in the hell's the matter with you?"
"I want to go home. Nothing is the goddamned matter with me. If you want to come you can come."
"But I'm not ready."
"I am."
He turned and started away.
"Bill! Bill, damn you. Come back. Come back!" He was going out. "Oh all right. Go on, then!"
* * *
If he doesn't care, Isabel thought, taking another sip of her drink. He must know by now. Or he must know that if he leaves me here without him it will happen even if he doesn't know it's already happened before. So if he leaves me, knowing that, he doesn't care.
She turned and looked around the room. She turned back. "Hey Jack, where's Carrol?"
He shrugged, looking around. "I don't know. Maybe she went up to bed."
"Bill left," she said. "He left about half an hour ago."
"I know. I was here."
She moved toward him, her vision blurring as her eyes moved over his body. "I guess he doesn't care anymore. He went off and left me here." She put her hand up and ran it across his chest. "I don't even know if I have a ride home."
"Don't worry about it. Bill's a good man. He'll understand."
"Oh Bill? You're goddamned right. He's the best fucking man in the whole goddamn world and I love him. You know that. I've always loved Bill and I always will love him. You know that, don't you?"
"Sure, babe."
"I mean you love Carrol. You love Carrol and I love Bill and we both understand each other, don't we?"
"Sure babe."
"Oh Jack. I'm horny. Will you make love to me?"
"Later."
"No." She pressed herself against him, dropping her glass to shatter on the floor at her feet. "I want it now. Please?"
Jack dropped his hand to pat her on the ripely clenching cheeks of her ass. He looked at his friends and smiled. "All right. If you want it that bad your sugar daddy's got what you need." He winked at the muscular, bearded man standing behind Isabel, his eyes roving with obvious interest over her lithe, sensuously squirming body. "This cunt's getting to be a little too much," he whispered as he led her past his friend and across to the door.
She clung to him as they went out and up the stairs. She was giggling, and she reached down and unzipped his trousers and began trying to play with his penis as they made their ascent. At the landing he turned her and guided her to the end of the hall. He threw a switch, somewhere, and what looked like just another part of the wall became a door, giving onto another flight of stairs, so narrow they could not go up it abreast. He pushed her ahead and poked her in the ass with his thumb to prod her along. She went, giggling, wiggling her buttocks vulgarly. Halfway up she lifted her skirt to a bunch around her waist and he laughed and pulled her panties down so the tight waistband hung just below the clefts where her buttocks blended into her long sleek thighs, completely revealing the ripe half moons to his gaze and touch.
A small landing at the top of these stairs gave off to a cozily furnished bedroom. Inside, Isabel turned to face her lover, standing on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck and shower hungry kisses on his face. Her skirt still hung bunched at her waist and her panties were still pulled down in the back. In the armoire mirror Jack observed her nakedly squirming buttocks as she ground her loins up against the bludgeoning erection already beginning to fill his trousers. Well, he thought, she was pretty much of a mess tonight. But he suspected there was still some fun to be had with her, at least one last time.
Then suddenly she pulled back away from him and began unbuttoning her dress, quickly pushing it off her shoulders and letting it fall away from her voluptuous torso. She swayed drunkenly on her feet as she stripped, but in spite of the alcohol she'd imbibed, the intoxicated brunette could feel a maddening surge of want beginning to course through her thighs and loins. Tonight, for the first time since she'd begun her illicit affair, she would actually be able to sleep with her adulterous lover. They had all the time they wanted, and she was determined to exploit the occasion for all the depraved excitement it had to offer her. Then tomorrow she would worry about patching things back up with her husband.
Jack O'Niel's conceited smirk seemed to hang perpetually on his face as he watched the sensuous brunette strip down completely naked and recline on the bed, a look of wanton invitation shining in her flashing black eyes. He consciously flexed his muscles as he peeled off his own clothes, then moved quickly to join her. He'd actually been planning on picking up something new tonight, but if she was so insistent, he supposed the least he could do was go ahead and service her. Besides, Steve and Tony, two of his old buddies, hadn't been doing too well in the ladies' department tonight. There were a couple of girls from Santa Barbara who were supposed to come down and he'd had them in mind for his friends. But they hadn't shown. So it looked like Isabel might have to work over-time tonight.
Jack settled down onto the bed, then hesitated for a moment, trying to decide exactly how he wanted to begin. He was going to need a little variation to get her started. Dog fashion was always good for that, in his experience, and quickly he reached down to pull at her waist and twist her forcibly over onto her stomach, shoving her thighs roughly up beneath her to force her naked buttocks high in the air. Giggling, Isabel submitted, her sensuously aroused body already starting to betray her as she experienced a surge of masochistic arousal from her shame and embarrassment at allowing Jack to see her assume such a degrading and vulnerable position.
Then quickly he moved up behind, shoving his knees between hers to spread her inner thighs until he had total access to her quivering loins. Her fully rounded ass-cheeks bore the white pattern of her bikini bottom, contrasting sharply to the tan of the rest of her body, and between her thighs he could ascertain from the presence of several glistening droplets of female lubricant clinging to the soft dark curls of the hair of her cunt that she was already excited, almost ready to fuck. Then he reached up beneath her body to cup his hands over her full young breasts, giving them both a hungry squeeze and feeling his cock twitch up even harder against the warm flesh of her naked inner thighs. He tweaked and fondled her nipples until she was moaning in shameless lust, then moved his hands back to her quivering buttocks.
At the same time he felt her reach between her own thighs to seize his now fully erected prick, revealing her urgency and need as she took a deep breath and bent it downward to guide it to her open loins. The feel of the hard-throbbing maleness made her quaking belly jerk with lewd arousal, and then Jack reached around her flanks, pulling her forcibly backward as she directed his hungrily twitching penis straight up into the entrance of her warm little cunt.
"Come on," he grunted. "Put it in."
Wriggling her buttocks involuntarily and shifting her position slightly, Isabel placed the rubbery purple cock-tip straight up against the soft hair-lined folds of her wet vaginal opening, working it with her hand like a lever to part the soft flanges of her hotly aroused cunt. She sucked her breath slowly inward, holding herself motionless as she felt Jack's sudden devastating thrust, levering himself forcibly up against her.
Then she moaned deeply as the engorged cock-head broke through her slight resistance and the full length of Jack's enormous penis slithered snake-like up into the tightness of her cunt. She grunted from the raw searing sensation as the plundering tip slammed like a wedge far up against her cervix, and for a moment he was still upon her. She could feel the bushiness of his pubic hair against her upturned buttocks and his sperm-bloated balls hung obscenely against the little button of her clitoris. And then, though she still hadn't quite adjusted to the filling entry, he began to stroke in and out of her tightly clasping cuntal softness, the long hard surges pounding deep up into her womb, driving relentlessly against her cervix to prompt little mewls of drunken passion to issue almost incoherently from her lips as she twisted and writhed in helpless subjugation before him.
Jack fucked his long cock brutally in and out of the tightly throbbing passage of Isabel's open pussy. He was making no effort to control himself tonight. This was only the beginning, and for Steve and Tony's sake it was probably better if he didn't completely satisfy her. He held her resilient buttocks tightly in each hand as he sawed the thick hardness of his cock deep inside her helplessly accepting cunt, his loins making a hard slapping sound as they spanked wildly against the undulating half-moons of her ass.
Isabel arched her buttocks higher, craning her neck to allow her to look back between the swinging mounds of her breasts to observe the obscene violation of her quivering cunt. Jack's penis would withdraw until only the fiery tip remained embedded between her tingling cunt-lips, then drove back down the slickly clutching channel with increasing relentless fury. She could see the lips of her cunt nibbling at it hungrily, drawing it deeper and deeper inside her until it filled her completely. And her ass was waggling completely out of control. She was moaning and sobbing like a prisoner being tortured, the muscles of her upthrust ass-cheeks flexing each time he withdrew as if to suck his swollen cock to the depths of her belly, and already she was beginning to experience the first pre-ecstatic waves surging completely out of control through her naked breasts and loins. It was as if she were being accelerated down a train track to the closest thing to heaven a sheer mortal could ever enjoy, and the words poured deliriously from her throat as she voiced out her consuming need.
Jack's churning cum swollen testicles felt as if they were ballooning out of his testicles, and he knew there was no reason to hold back any longer. The head of his penis pulsed inside Isabel's wetly pulsating cunt-passage and he drove to the maximum depth, his searing semen squirting in a great hot torrent from the glans at the inflamed and dilated tip. And for a moment he thought Isabel was going with him. Then he frowned, his ego wounded slightly in spite of his general unconcern as he heard her sudden desperate oral protest.
"Oooooohhh! Wait! Noooooo!" she cried. She was going to cum. She was on the verge and then Jack had slipped. He had let it go too soon. The liquid fiery heat was pumping irretrievably into her loins but she wasn't quite ready for it. He was reaching the peak of his energy and he was leaving her behind, refusing to push that extra little distance she had to go before she would have also felt the heat and ecstasy of explosive release. For a moment their bodies had almost fused, as they'd done all the previous times they'd been together. But now he had failed her. He was still upon her as she jerked and convulsed in little spasms of frustration, his penis already beginning to limply deflate up in her unsated loins.
"Please, Jack," she whimpered shamelessly, looking back over her shoulder at his smirking face. "I'm not ready. I need more."
To her astonishment he grinned and drew suddenly out of her. "You need more? All right, nymph. Wait here just a minute."
As Isabel stared in resentful confusion, Jack got up suddenly from the bed and pulled on his trousers. Then shirtless and barefoot, he went out of the room. Still writhing with uncontrollable need, she listened to his footsteps descend the stairs. Unable to resist, she reached down between her thighs to cover her hand over her burning cunt in a desperate attempt to sate herself. Then she drew it quickly away as she heard him ascending again, her eyes widening as she realized he was not alone.
Isabel was too surprised to move, and she didn't even have the presence of mind to pull a cover over her naked body as the door opened and Jack came back in, followed now by his two equally muscular friends, Steve and Tony. And from the look in their eyes as they observed her helplessly vulnerable body, she realized this wasn't just a social call.
"All right, buddies," Jack said. "She's ready and waiting. Take her away."
"Oh my God," Isabel moaned. What on earth was he talking about?
"I'll take firsts," Tony said, jerking his T-shirt off in a sudden motion to reveal his powerful biceps and chest.
"Over my dead body," said Steve, ignoring his shirt and beginning to quickly undo his belt. "I never went in for sloppy seconds."
"I don't understand," Isabel whispered dazedly, still finding it difficult to grasp what they had in mind. Then she suddenly stiffened as Steve yanked his jockey shorts down and his penis came suddenly into her view.
"Oh my God," she whispered with disbelief. "It can't be true. It can't be true."
Never had Isabel seen anything like it in her life. Steve's cock was breathtakingly large, hanging still limp and dangling half-way to his knees, surrounded by a thick bush shoved of curling black hair. It was enormous. No woman could ever take that inside her vagina, and with conscious effort Isabel forced herself to look away as she tried to get her panic in check. Then, feeling the bed sag beside her, she looked suddenly back to see that Steve was already climbing up to join her, and she realized with a sinking sensation that looking away like an ostrich burying its head was not going to help. This was no dream, no mere sex fantasy that she could wish away. This was all really happening. He was really going to try to fuck her with that monstrous cock, and even in all her lingering, consuming lust she was sure it would be more than she could bear. It was too big. It would split her apart at the seams.
"Turn her over," Jack directed as Tony also clambered onto the bed. "Nobody has to take seconds. She's got a mouth too."
"Oh my God," Isabel cried again as she realized what they were talking about. "You must be joking. I can't do that."
But they didn't even seem to hear her. Before she could move to defend herself Steve's hands were upon her, rolling her to her belly, then seizing her satin-skinned buttocks to jerk her into the same humiliating posture Jack had forced her to assume before. She swayed weakly, her shame and terror almost causing her to faint, and then she opened her eyes wide as the over-endowed swimmer positioned himself behind her and she felt her legs being brutally and forcibly apart. Every muscle in her body felt as though it were being stretched beyond belief, and her thighs were completely open, offering the plane of her pussy helplessly up to the hulking muscle man who was already starting to mount her like a bull from behind. There was nothing she could do to defend herself. Her loins were his to plunder at his will.
Steve grinned at Isabel's inverted cuntal triangle with undisguised lust, stroking his immensely dilated cock with his hand in greedy preparation for the brutal assault he was about to launch. Then suddenly and without further preparation, he inserted the blood-engorged cock-tip straight up between her thighs, his buttocks jerking as he lunged swiftly forward and with one brutal lunge shoved the huge, bulbous tip of his penis up between her legs and into the fleshy folds of her inner cuntal depths.
"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she moaned, tossing her head insanely from side to side from the sheer raw sensation of the unnatural penetration.
And as the cruel entry continued with relentless force, she felt the other athlete moving into a kneeling position in front of her, his own rock-hard cock waving in obscene naked erection right before her face. Steven grunted, surging forward again to impale even deeper into her, and as she jumped forward in retreat from the searing pain, her startled face ran head-on into the thickly surging phallus. It shoved without warning between her moist parted lips into the warm saliva of her mouth, almost gagging her as it plunged nearly halfway down her throat.
Then, almost in time, the men began to fuck her back and forth from both ends, buffeting her as their cocks simultaneously plunged in and out of her helplessly violated orifices. For a moment it was almost more than she could bear. The pain in her cunt was an outrageous burning presence that nearly pushed her into the escape of unconsciousness, and the thought of having her mouth used in this degrading and obscene manner demoralized her beyond anything she had ever known. But there was no escape. She remained awake, helplessly pinioned and wracked between them, and somehow finally her body began to adjust. Her pussy muscles stretched beyond all recognition, and the unspeakable subjugation to which she was being subjected began to course through her tortured flesh.
She was being fucked. She was getting more of what she so badly had needed, and even if it killed her she knew she'd never escape this ordeal without first obtaining her release. Then at last, cautiously, she began to rotate her buttocks backwards to meet Steve's wracking lunges, at the same time beginning to lick and suck in servile dog-like obedience to the penis plunging again and again between her ovaled lips.
"Oh God," she groaned inaudibly as they pummeled her lust-driven form back and forth between them, using her captive body as a shameless receptacle into which they would both pump their building sperm. The very debasement of her situation and the obscene humiliation of being used at once by both of the muscular grunting men caused the secret desire welling through her, building to burst into full bloom, and she began to roll her upthrust buttocks in luxuriating circles, tightening her cruelly ravished cunt muscles wantonly around the cock skewering into her from behind and at the same time increasing her submissive sucking on the rod of flesh that filled her ill-used mouth. She was giving in completely now and she wanted to milk them both dry until she was filled from one end to the other with their lewdly flowing cum.
And behind her Steve was building swiftly toward the end, thrusting into her harder and faster, battering mercilessly against the upturned crevice of her wantonly yielding ass. The saliva in her contorted mouth was becoming thick and sticky from the emissions of lubricating fluid that seeped from the end of Tony's cock, warning her that his ejaculation wouldn't be far behind his friend's. And her own excitement was mounting already almost out of control. She had never felt so utterly used and debauched in her life, and she sucked with all her heart, waggling her upturned buttocks without will to resist as she felt her peak's relentless approach.
There was nothing else in the world now but to please these two wildly fucking, lust-crazed men, to wallow obscenely in her own lurid pleasure, to give herself completely to the depraved obsession that had overtaken her.
Then suddenly she felt the cock fucking into her pussy from behind tense and inflate even larger. She felt her thighs being swept apart as the hairy-chested man drove powerfully up into her, shoving his relentlessly hardening penis as far as it would go into her belly to spew his hot teeming load of cum in a searing torrent into her wildly contracting cunt.
Isabel hunched back frenziedly as she felt the seething cum fluids flooding hotly into her dilated womb, filling her until she thought she would burst. She felt it dribbling back out of the hair-covered lips of her forever-stretched pussy and his spasmodic lunges caused her to bury her face even more tightly to Tony's loins as his own cock burst forth to fill her cheeks with the boiling pungent liquid until she was forced to swallow to keep from choking on the fiery gushes of sperm. Her lips clasped tightly around the lurching cock-shaft and she was fearful of losing even a drop of the precious life-giving fluid. But there was too much, and as she felt the spasms of exquisite relief flooding with equal fury through her own ravished body, little driplets spilled out from the corners of her mouth, thin glistening strands of the viscous milky juice connecting her lips to the now deflating penis as it was withdrawn and slipped from her flushed and panting face.
The impassioned brunette continued to hungrily drive her hips back onto the monstrously skewering penis that still squirted drop after drop of its searing cum into the eagerly working wetness of her cunt, and with a wail from between her now tightly clenched teeth she felt her own body soar up and explode into what seemed like a shower of tiny blazing stars coursing through her being with wild raw ecstasy that sent her brain whirling crazily in the orgasmic passion of her release.
Then at last, her strength gone and a blanket of exhaustion falling over her, she sank wearily forward onto the bed and felt the spent cock pop lightly from her passion-drenched pussy. She thought she was finished, but she should have known that was only the beginning. Jack had gotten excited just watching, and he was ready for another go-round. Downstairs an orgy had erupted. The whole party turned into a game of musical beds played over the entire expanse of the house, and it wasn't long before Isabel lost count of the times she was fucked, of the times she climaxed, even of the men who fucked her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pale and exhausted, Isabel descended from the cab, which she'd had stop at the coiner, and started up the street to her house. She hadn't dared take it there directly, just as she had not dared let the man who'd driven her back to town deliver her to the house. And she could hardly believe the debauched orgy and gang-rape to which she'd been such a willing victim last night. She had conducted herself like a nymphomaniacal whore and she didn't think she would ever live it down. And not only had she awakened in bed with a complete stranger - she hadn't been able to find anyone in the house with whom she was even mildly acquainted. Jack was gone, as were Tony and Steve. It was almost noon, and she didn't know how she was going to explain the night to Bill, or excuse herself rather; an explanation of that to anyone would have been beyond the range of possibility.
Her stomach fluttering nervously, Isabel opened the door and stepped inside the silent house. She paused, listening for any sign of his presence, then tiptoed down the hall. Passing the kitchen door she saw him sitting at the table with a cigarette in his hand, a cup of coffee before him, his eyes staring dully up.
"Oh, Bill," she began hesitantly. "Y-you left the party early, I guess."
He nodded, saying nothing, staring at her blankly, not even as if to question. Oh my God, she thought. He was really getting suspicious now. Though of course there was no way he could not be suspicious after everything that had happened the last two weeks. And yet it seemed almost as if he didn't care, as if his suspicion had dulled his feelings. He seemed apathetic to her, as if he didn't even care that she'd returned. And that, beyond all else, she could not bear. She had to lie. She had to lie and make it right.
Trembling, the distraught brunette crept into the room and sat down across from him at the table. "I got too drunk," she said. He said nothing. She laughed nervously. "I don't even know what happened. I passed out down there and somebody brought me back to Carrol's. I woke up there this morning, a minute ago I mean, on the couch." She reached across and touched his hand but he didn't seem to acknowledge it. "I'm sorry, Bill. I'm so sorry. I promise it won't ever happen again."
He sighed and put his cigarette out in the ashtray. She sat still for a moment longer, looking at him pleadingly though now he would not look back. Then she rose suddenly and went out of the room. She fled down the hall to the bedroom, fell sobbing onto the bed. Perhaps for a moment or two she slept, for the next thing she was conscious of was a gently falling rain on the window, a rain that had come suddenly in from the sea upon a day that had begun under a sky that was sunny and clear. Watching the falling drops, she thought it was fitting.
Then she stood, sighing wearily, and walked back out and down the hall to the kitchen door, where she found him sitting still in the same place at the table.
"I'm... I'm going back over to Carrol's for a few minutes," she said.
He looked up and nodded, but she averted her eyes. Feeling utterly broken and ashamed, she turned away and rushed to the door. She walked swiftly out into the cool gentle rain and away down the street, rushing to her friend's door, entering without a knock. "Carrol?"
"I'm in the kitchen," she heard her friend say, and from the quivering of her voice she realized something was wrong and rushed quickly to the door.
Carrol was sitting at the table, as Bill had been. She had been crying. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with fresh-shining tears. There was an envelope marked Isabel lying on the table before her.
"Jack left," she said in hardly more than a whisper.
"What?"
"He went to the East Coast for the fall. He broke it off with me, our engagement." She shook her head. "If you could ever really call it that. He just said it was over, but of course it was over long ago." She retrieved the envelope and held it toward Isabel. "He left this for you."
Unable to comprehend the relief, the sensation of almost elation she felt welling in her breast, Isabel took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a short note: Isabel, Think it's time I'm moving on. It
was fun.
Goodbye, Jack She read it once, then read it again, then tears filled her eyes with her sudden flooding of relief. It was over, she thought almost with wonder. It was over, the whole crazy affair, and she knew that this was the best thing that could have ever happened to her. It was a chance for her salvation, for her to save her marriage. She could go back to Bill now. She could give herself wholly to him, as she'd given herself before. She could live honestly again, and without guilt.
"Oh Carrol, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It was all my fault and I know you must hate me. I ruined everything for you."
Carrol shook her head. "No, you didn't. It would never have worked. I was kidding myself the whole time. I don't even know why I ever liked the bastard."
Isabel moved forward and put her hand gently on the small blonde's shoulder. Then she moved back to the door. "I have to go," she said. "I have to go back and start fixing things up with Bill. I love him, Carrol. He's the only one I'll ever love." She paused. "I'll come over tomorrow afternoon if you want."
"All right."
She started to go, then stopped herself. "And Carrol - if Bill says anything - he won't - but just in case he does - I told him I slept here on your couch. So cover for me if he asks."
Carol looked up with a deadpan stare and shook her head. "It won't work. I rode back from the party with Bill and he slept here with me."
CHAPTER NINE
She ran, stumbling in the grass, across the yards and the drives before the houses. Panting, she burst through the door, tears of shame and regret filling her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. "Bill? Bill, are you here?"
There was no answer. Trembling, she tiptoed forward along the hall, past the door to the living room, past the door to the kitchen where the table was deserted with the ashtray full of cigarette butts and the empty coffee cup. She turned away and continued on to the bedroom door. As she pushed it open he turned from the closet, looked at her, said nothing and turned back to what he was doing. She stopped, biting her lip, gasping to catch her breath. Her vision blurred. For a moment she could hardly see. There was something that had grabbed her attention, something out of place that momentarily eluded it, as if she were blinded or had blotted the sight from her mind. Then gradually the open suitcase on the bed materialized in the view.
She stared at it, her mouth dropping open, her jaw slack. "Bill?" She couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. "Bill?" He said nothing. "Bill, look at me!"
He turned and placed a folded shirt into the bag. She came slowly, almost shyly, into the room. He looked at her and turned back to the closet. She walked on to the edge of the bed.
"Bill? What are you doing?" He took out a handful of ties. "What are you doing?"
He turned and said simply: "I'm leaving."
"No." She watched him start to close the bag. "No!" The room seemed to be spinning around her, the floor rocking beneath her feet. "No!" she screamed. "Nooo! You can't."
She tried to pull the bag open, to scatter his clothes. He took her arms and pushed her away, though she tried to melt against his chest. He left her half balanced against the wall and picked up the bag and walked to the door. Belatedly she ran after him, catching him halfway to the hall, screaming deliriously and tearing at his jacket. "Bill, my God. Bill, what are you doing? You can't leave me. You can't." She pushed in front of him, blocking his path, fresh tears flooding from her eyes as she felt the very reason for her existence slipping irretrievably from her grasp.
"I'm sorry," she cried. "It just happened. And now it's over. Jack's gone, and I'm glad he's gone. I want you. I don't want anybody else but you."
He pushed her gently out of the way and went out the door into the rain. Standing framed in it, she watched the taxi turn at the corner and slow as it neared the house. "Bill, please! Please, my God!" He walked toward the street. She went out onto the porch. "Then... then, are you coming back?"
He stopped and turned. He didn't speak. He only shook his head, but she knew he was not. Running down into the yard into the rain as he got in the cab and sat stiffly and stoically, not looking back as it pulled away, she knew that last shake of his head was his final, unimpeachable word.
And she would have died. If she could have willed it then, wished her spirit out of her body, she would have given up all the worthless empty years she saw spilling out like an endless carpet before her. She would in her heartbreak have willingly flown the coop. She would have opted for endless sleep.
But her spirit remained, trapped in her body, the body that had betrayed her with its obscene and depraved demands, led her to destroy, as if by her own wish, the only thing of value she'd ever really had.
Her legs went weak as she attempted to climb the steps. She fell, a sobbing heap, to her knees. She buried her face in her hands and lay in the wet grass and mud beneath the falling rain, knowing that tomorrow she would go after him - until she had won him back - proved to him beyond a doubt that her love for him was all that mattered in the whole world...
