Sharon is the brand-new secretary to handsome, powerful Viking Industries' president, Gene Latimer. The catch is-he's married to the beautiful but bitchy Rachel. With her lion mane of pale blonde hair, Rachel is one sexy stunner. But Sharon's got her share of attributes too-including a massive set of mammaries that are just begging to be sucked!
Not one to let a good thing slip out of her sensuous hands, Sharon plans her seduction of Gene. With a little help from Gene and Rachel's gardener, Rusty, Sharon comes up with a splendid scheme. First of all, she's got to get Rachel bedded down by the hunky young Rusty. The rest will fall into place-or so Sharon thinks.
Enter Rachel's cast-off lover, Gil. He was supposed to marry Rachel in the first place-till Daddy picked out Gene instead of Gil. Now, he's back in the picture and back in Rachel's arms. As a matter-of-fact, the lusty lady dumps sex partner Rusty to get it on with Gil again.
So the stage is set. All Sharon has to do now is fuck her boss. Complications occur, however, when a nasty blackmailer (Brian Holt) visits Sharon and threatens to spill the beans about her setup with Rachel and Rusty. Not to worry, cunty Sharon treats the blackmailer like a piece of cake, and sucks up a load of cum icing from boss Gene. All in a day's work for slutty, ambitious Sharon. Whoever said secretaries aren't smart? Uhm!
CHAPTER ONE
Gene Latimer came out of his office and dropped what seemed like a two kilogram file onto Sharon's desk. "Put this in a safe place, will you?" he asked. "I'll be at the gym if you need me." He strolled out.
"If I need you,' she thought to herself. 'How 'bout if I just want you?"
She watched him walk to the twin glass doors that had VIKING INDUSTRIES stenciled across them. He pushed both open as he went through, not just one like everybody else. He was forty, built like a linebacker in his prime, and that kind of thing came naturally to him. He did it without thinking.
Coming to work here eight months ago, Sharon had thought herself open-minded about certain things. For instance, that it didn't really matter what a man looked like. But as soon as she laid eyes on her boss-to-be, something had slipped inside her and sent her into a swoon she had yet to recover from.
Fat chance of her desires coming to anything, though, she thought as she put away the file. He was married. Not just to a beautiful woman, but one who also happened to be the major stockholder in the company. He would have to be more than one kind of a fool to dump her for a secretary. And he was no fool at all.
Sharon was not a common secretary, but was a secretary nevertheless. To Gene it probably wouldn't make a difference, but it would to the bitch, and she held all the cards. Or, more precisely, the shares. She'd fire them both.
Sharon could live with that, but for Gene it would mean starting over from scratch. He was young enough for it, but it wouldn't leave him with any time for her. Anyway, why would he even consider giving up or even jeopardizing the sweetest of sweet deals he had?
She glanced at her watch. Three-thirty. She'd hang around until four, then scram.
Bypassing her desk, she wandered into her boss's office. It was the size of her apartment with the walls taken out. There was a large conference table, two long couches facing each other in the middle section, with his desk at the far end.
Through the glass wall behind it she could see the mountains. To the side, where the sun was slanting in, the bay. There was utter quiet in the office. It always made her feel she was far away from the rest of the world when she was in here. Here she could make her own rules, if there were someone to play with.
She went around his desk and dropped into his chair. A faint aroma of his cologne lingered in the air, making her want to curl up against him. Not being able to only made her feel worse.
She rested her chin atop a fist at the edge of the desk and sighed, like a bored student waiting for an interminable history class to end.
Like a pining cheerleader waiting for the quarterback to notice her.
A hell of a way for a twenty eight year old to be carrying on. She was glad she hadn't told anyone about her feelings for Gene. By now they'd be lecturing her to get on with her life, to see the impossibility of having him.
The phone rang. Welcoming the distraction, she answered it.
"Can Sharon come out to play?" a smooth voice inquired.
She recognized it readily, though she hadn't heard from the guy in over a month. But it neither picked her up nor let her down.
"Hello, Clark," she said ambiguously.
"How are you? Still well? Still single?"
Sharon sat back in the chair. "What's it to you, stranger?"
"I saw a woman on the street today. She had the most amazing ass, but then it occurred to me, yours is better. I've been thinking about you ever since."
Clark had such a harmless way of saying things, no matter what he said. And he was fun. Perhaps just the tonic she needed. But that was no reason to make it easy for him.
"Never mind my ass," she murmured. "What color are my eyes?"
"If I get it right do I win a prize?"
"You get to answer another question;
"Your eyes are blue, a deep and dark shade. Kind of big and soulful too. Your hair is brown, shoulder-length, teased all to hell to give you a hot look, which happens to be only half as hot as you really are. And your body is a body to stiffen cocks with. What's the next question?"
She was smiling. So he did remember her after all!
"What do I like?" she inquired, more playful now.
"Expensive dinners, loud music exhausting dancing, and finally-"
"Save that part," she cut in. "I'd rather you show me.
"Pick you up at seven."
Sharon cradled the receiver and relaxed in Gene's chair. Well, it may not have been what she wanted, but it was something to look forward to. If she remembered Clark the way he remembered her, and she did, it would be nice to spend an evening with a handsome guy. Just to keep her in practice.
Clark was a photographer. She'd met him in Stanley Park one afternoon, where he'd been taking pictures of trees, she had first thought. He'd explained that he was after the sunlight filtering through the branches. Presently he invited her back to his darkroom to see what developed.
"God," she had said groaningly. But she'd gone.
Nothing serious had come out of it. Just occasional fun. Her heart already belonged to Gene.
She gave herself a good long soak in the tub when she got home. She put her head back and closed her eyes and let things slide. Her thoughts flitted from Gene to Clark, emotions going from frustration to anticipation.
She's used to be able to shut Gene out at times like this. Away from the office, a date in the offing, she could at least force herself to be sensible. Now....
There was a glimmer of possibility for her, that was the problem. There was an element of distance between Gene and his wife. Sharon had first noticed it at a regular biweekly meeting a month ago.
Rachel's daddy had taught her to keep an eye on her assets, so she kept coming in to get caught up on just how things were doing, what was losing money, what was making money-that sort of thing. Gene could have taken the figures home for her but Sharon figured she just liked playing executive. Or she didn't fully trust him.
Thinking that, she had started paying close attention to how Gene and Rachel acted around one another. It was what she had not seen that had tipped her off. No hello smooches even when alone, no real smiles for each other, no lingering looks, no touching, no "honeys" or "sweethearts" or anything like that.
Once Sharon had had to take a briefcase to a restaurant where Gene was having lunch with Rachel. He'd forgotten it, needed it for an appointment and didn't have time to go back to the office.
He and Rachel were seated across from each other. It struck Sharon that they were more like business partners than husband and wife. It wasn't wishful thinking, either. There was a definite cool front between them. Sharon wondered if the big brute had married Rachel for her money.
That could mean he would be even less attracted to the idea of starting over than she'd thought. It could also mean he was lonely.
Dressing for her date, Sharon found her thoughts shifting to Clark. If you can't be with the man you love, love the man you're with, right?
Besides, she was dressing for action, and that gave her a certain stimulated feeling. Anticipation took a firmer hold.
Her dress was black, form-fitting, mini-length. The only lingerie was a pair of pantyhose, also black. It gave her a nice feeling of being bad, which added to the fun. She chose high heels to help accentuate her rump, since Clark was such a fan.
She was taking down her coat when the doorbell rang.
Clark was dark-haired and dark-eyed with bronze skin. He spent his weekends at the local nude beach, so the tan went all over. For some reason Sharon thought that was neat. He appeared delighted to see her, though all she got was a friendly peck on the cheek with his hello. He must have been saving himself for later.
The restaurant was new, and expensive. The cuisine was French, and delicious. The company was comfortable.
They caught up with each other's lives, though Sharon didn't mention Gene or her feelings for him. Clark had been on a few jobs, nothing remarkable. He seemed to live well for a photographer, considering the amount of work he did. But she didn't probe. It was none of her business. Not with the relationship they had. She wasn't sure she wanted to know anyway.
There was a club she liked, and after dinner he took her there. She danced her brains out, whipping herself through the crowd and the noise as if trying to break herself free of the hold Gene had on her.
A little sweaty and breathing as she would have after a workout, she hung herself from Clark's shoulder and together they walked out. The night air cooled her skin but did not calm her mind, or temper the desire she had been working herself into all evening.
On the way to the car she sneaked her free hand under Clark's slacks and down to his crotch. Snug in his briefs, curved under him, his cock was firm.
Yeah, he knew what she liked.
She smiled goofily as he piled her into his car. She said nothing on the drive to her place, just relaxed against him and thought about how nice it was to be with a sexy man. It was nice to be feeling sexy and away from it all. At least, to have the illusion of being away from it all.
At the door to her apartment, he grabbed fistfuls of her skirt and pulled the hem up over the nyloned cheeks of her ass.
She grinned against his mouth and laughed a naughty laugh. She really wanted to let go tonight, and if he didn't get the message he wasn't human.
He got the message.
As she turned to unlock the door he pressed up against the side of her asscheek, arms about her waist. He ground the base of his swollen cock at her, groaning like an obscene phone caller in her ear.
They half-fell into the apartment, laughing drunkenly-more from lust than wine. Sharon slammed the door and threw herself at him, catching him in her best embrace, with her wildest kiss. He groped her sumptuous ass through her pantyhose and pulled her lower tummy against his cock as he kissed her with just as avid a reply.
"Goddamn," he breathed, "have you been saving yourself or something?"
"For the right fuck," she answered. "Are you the right fuck, lover boy?"
"Is that all you want? A fuck? I was hoping I could lick you all over first. Inside and out."
"Yeah, you're the right fuck, alright," she said to that, kissing him.
He wrestled the coat from her-she didn't seem to want to break her embrace but he won. He grabbed her dress and peeled that up her shapely body, forcing it from her arms. He stooped and lifted her in his arms and started through the night-lit apartment to the bedroom.
"My my, that tongue of yours must really be in the mood," Sharon remarked.
"It oughtta be, the way you've been flaunting yourself all night."
"Are you saying I'm some kind of slut or something?"
"Aren't you?
"Yeah, but a girl likes to hear it."
"I think you're crazier than I am," he remarked with a sputtering laugh.
"I am tonight. Tonight I'm crazier than everybody."
"What's the occasion?" He entered the bedroom. With the curtains drawn it was darker than the living room, but he found the low, wide bed without any trouble. A good thing, too, because he dropped her.
"No occasion," Sharon answered. "You just called at the right time."
He switched on a small bedside lamp. It illuminated the bed and not much else. Perfect.
He pulled her shoes off, then grabbed the waistband of her hosiery and briskly peeled them from her long, tapered limbs. He paused, standing upright, gazing down at her, then started to undress.
"You should have let me send in those pictures I took of you that time," he said. "You would have been a girl of the month by now."
"I'm already a girl of the month. Every month, too. Sometimes, girl of the year."
"Yeah, but it's nice to have it in writing."
Grinning, naked, erect, he came to her, lay down with her. They kissed and, feeling playful, rolled over in each other's arms, and over again.
Sharon's system was revved up and running smoothly. If it was good to be out on the town with a fun guy it was damn good to be at home in bed with him, naked as jaybirds.
The funny part was, Clark really did lick her all over. She'd thought that had just been talk, part of the fun and games of the build-up. When he started, and it dawned on her that he was serious, she surrendered blissfully.
He straddled her thighs, sitting on her knees with his cock reaching out along the smooth skin of her upper legs. He pinned her wrists to either side, though not terribly firmly. Bowing low, he brushed the tip of his tongue up each side of her neck, then up her throat.
Sharon tilted her head back and he tickled her under the chin. The newness of it made her feel goose-bumpy inside. "You crazy bastard," she said giggling happily.
Clark moved to her shoulders, down each arm with long, light passes of his tongue. Onto her chest, between her luscious boobs. He swirled his probe on each nipple, widening the circular motions until he had run rings around her fleshy tits.
He backed off and continued down her body, honing in on the indentation of her belly button and away from it onto her hips. He brushed down her thighs, over her knees, all the way to her toenails.
Grasping her ankles, he turned her over. Actually, he just gave her a hint. She did the turning all by herself. Quite eagerly, too.
He was treating her body like candy, revealing himself to be an expert and not just some chocoholic with a sweet tooth. He showed a genuine appreciation for the almost polished smoothness of her curves and hollows, and the heat and coolness of their different parts.
He was fun, too, tickling her toes and the backs of her knees with the wriggly tip of his tongue. It was kinky and innocent at the same time. She ate it up.
Up on both elbows, she rolled her head forward to shift her wild mane of hair away from the nape of her neck. Clark tickled her there, too.
"Now," he murmured against her ear. "Inside!"
A moaning sound escaped her as she exhaled. Her arms slid out from under and she stretched as she shifted onto her back. She was horny through and through and didn't know how much more she could take before she went after that hard cock of his. But it would be fun to find out. And what woman in her right mind would turn down some first class head from a fun-loving stud like Clark?
He slid down over her, insinuating himself between her legs. She raised her knees, planted her feet, tilted her pussy up and out, every fiber of her being waiting for the succulent washes of his knowing tongue.
He was as thorough with her down there as he had been with the rest of her, if not more so. He took particular delight in rolling her stiff clit under his tongue. And he went inside, as promised. He wasn't shy, either. He probed in deep. Her chest heaved as she fought for air, her reeling mind losing its battle to retain sanity.
She gasped that she was going to cum. He replaced his tongue inside her entrance with two quickly stroking fingers and went after her clit zone orally. He pistoned and sucked and whipped her into a frenzy, passion sending her careening out of control and crashing through a wall of total enjoyment.
The hard, quick pangs of her release sent their torrid sensations through her system at the speed of light. The spasmodic shudders that followed went on and on, especially through her nether region. They had her simply shaking with excitement.
Sharon moaned from deep inside as satisfaction settled into the nooks and crannies of her being with its tingly warmth. She lifted her heavy-seeming head and looked down at Clark. "Now," she moaned, "how 'bout that fuck?"
A glint was showing in his eyes. He had been thinking the exact same thing! Patiently, however, he moved up over her on all fours.
"Are you thinking about cumming again?" he asked.
"Are you thinking about doing it for me?"
"It would be kinda neat."
She eased a hand down between her legs. "Maybe I can help."
He showed a wide smile. "Promising."
She drew her knees farther back, lifting her feet into the air, curving her body for him. She rolled her clit under the pads of two fingers as he lowered his thickly flared glans to her spread snatch.
Profoundly hard, pulsing, long and thick, he filled her to the brim, inside her like a glow. She felt the grate of his ridge along her walls and the lewd pleasure it awakened in her. She squirmed acceptingly, welcomingly, and couldn't wait for him to get on with it.
Later, quite a bit later, in fact, the bedroom was quiet and still. The naked bodies sprawled on the pink bedding in the lamplight were quiet, though slightly less still. But only slightly. They were on their backs, but with hips turned toward each other and legs entwined, as if they hadn't had the strength to fully separate afterward.
"Jesus Christ," Clark said presently, after taking in a deep breath.
"I feel hung out to dry," Sharon said, and laughed.
"Imagine making a habit of this?"
"Good Lord. That's not why you called me, is it?
"I don't know why I called you, really. I just started thinking about you. You ever think about me?"
"Honestly? No."
"Who do you think about?"
Should she tell?
"He's married," she confided.
She hated the way satisfaction loosened secrets.
"I can only wish you a speedy recovery," he said to that.
Then she said, "Clark?"
"Uhm?"
"How far do you think a woman should go to get what she wants?"
"Anything short of murder."
"Really?"
"If she wants it for the right reasons."
"Right reasons?"
"I assume we're talking about this guy, right?"
"Right."
"Is he rich?"
"You could say that."
"Would you want him if he was poor?"
"His money isn't the only attraction. I mean, I want to be the one to take care of him. I want to have him. You know? It's not logical, it's chemical, emotional...."
"Okay. Your motives are pure. What have you got in mind?"
It was a good question. She wasn't sure. She had fantasized having Rachel out of the way without really thinking about how that would be accomplished. An act of God wasn't going to do it.
She hadn't thought about it because she hadn't committed herself to making it happen. Perhaps it was time she did just that.
It was a cinch she wasn't going to get over Gene very soon. Even if she went to work for someone else. Even if she filled her nights with Clark or some other guy or combination of guys. She had it bad, that was for sure. Here she was, totally spent, and Gene was still foremost in her mind.
Yeah, she had it. Real bad.
She had never been much of a schemer. She'd thought it was because she preferred the honest approach, but now she had to wonder. Maybe the stakes had never been high enough for her before. Already she was starting to ponder, to speculate, to try to find a way to separate Gene and Rachel, but still keep him in place as president of the company.
If it weren't for that last part it would have been easy. Or easier, anyway.
Maybe if Gene loved her enough he wouldn't mind being given the boot from both home and company. Maybe he wouldn't mind starting over with her by his side. And maybe if pigs had wings they would fly.
Damn it!
What about Rachel? What did she know about the woman? What weaknesses might she find there? Interesting.
Suddenly she felt invigorated, as if having found a purpose. She pushed herself up onto an elbow, looking at Clark. "Listen, cutie, it's been fun, but I'd like to be alone. Okay?"
"I was afraid of that."
"I've got some thinking to do."
"Could I at least shower first?"
"Sure, and to make sure there are no hard feelings, I'll wash your back!"
CHAPTER TWO
Alone at the office three days later, Sharon called the service that took care of whatever gardening or lawn maintenance was done on the Latimer property. She had called there before, on Gene's behalf, requesting one thing or another, so she had a foundation on which to work. And they had no problem with changing their work schedule from a Friday to a Saturday.
When Gene returned and asked for his messages, she said, "Your gardener phoned. He wants to come by Saturday instead of Friday to do the lawns. I knew you'd be playing golf and your wife would be hacking at tennis balls so I said okay. It would spare you the noise."
"Good thinking," he smiled, and continued into his office.
The smile warmed her, though the remark sparked a twinge of guilt. You don't know how good, she thought.
Saturday afternoon.
Sharon called the Latimer house but got no answer. So not even the maid was around. Unless she was out in the garage balling the gardener.
Sharon put on a business outfit, closed a briefcase on some papers that could have been signed yesterday at the office and went out to her car. It was a thirty minute drive out to the posh suburb that Gene called home, a trip that was fraught with nervous tension and anticipation. This was one time when she hardly noticed the big, expensive houses or the immaculately kept surroundings.
On her first trip to Gene's house she had been very impressed by this lap of luxury. She had driven around the neighborhood for over an hour afterward, just looking. She had known of course that the rich lived well, but actually seeing it gave her a whole new perspective.
A few dreams had unfurled for her that day. She'd thought on what it would be like to live in any one of those big, fine houses. With a big, fine husband. Like Gene.
But that would be a perfect world and she had not dwelt on the fantasy. It was nice to look, to dream, but a woman had to keep her feet on the ground and remember what mattered. Luxury could be taken care of, or not, later.
Sharon was in luck. The pick-up truck was parked in front of the large, Colonial-style house, at the top of the curve of the horseshoe-shaped driveway. A young man in a sleeveless T-shirt and jeans was lowering a lawn mower from the tailgate. Just the guy she had been expecting.
She drove up and parked in front of him. Briefcase in hand, she got out and ambled around the front of her car. "Good afternoon," she said warmly.
"Hi."
"Anybody home?"
"Isn't supposed to be anybody, from what I was told. I didn't try the door, though."
"I'll give it a shot." Before moving on she let her eyes shift to the expanse of lawn enclosed by the driveway. "You have quite a job ahead of you."
"There's more out back."
"Lucky you," she remarked in reply, showing a flirtatious glint. She proceeded up the steps and across the tiled porch to ring the doorbell. Back to the door, she watched him fill the gas tank of the mower.
His tanned, muscled arms seemed to glisten in the sun. His short, tousled hair moved lazily in the breeze. Where did these young bucks come from? He was cute, strong-chested, slim-waisted, with twin handfuls of jutting butt. Somebody had to be stamping them out of a mold somewhere. By the dozen. Uhm....
Sharon drifted back down the steps when she got no answer at the door. He capped the gas can and slid it across the bed of the truck and faced her. What was he? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? The eyes looked older, regarding her with a vaguely squinting, measuring expression. He wasn't wondering if he could fuck her. He was wondering how.
"No luck," Sharon said. "I suppose I could wait."
"I can't offer you much company."
"Too bad. I have a feeling I'd like it."
"Maybe later?"
"Today? Terrific!"
"I'll be through here in a couple hours. That should give you enough time to find a place called Fletch's."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Want me to tell the squire you were here, whoever you are?"
"Don't bother. I'll catch him some other time. And his wife." She offered a hand. "And the name's Jackie."
He took her hand, holding it firmly, warmly. His hand wasn't as rough as she'd expected, but that was okay.
"Call me Rusty," he smiled.
"See you soon, Rusty."
She expected Fletch's to be a disco or some boisterous nightclub. But in fact it was a pleasant, quiet bar near the beach, attracting a varied, well-behaved clientele. Either Rusty's wilder days were behind him or he just wasn't into that kind of life. Or he thought this would be more her speed. She did have a couple years on him, after all.
She had waited twenty minutes before he arrived. He had on a shirt now, but it was hanging open, showing the T-shirt underneath. He got a beer at the bar and came over to her comer table and sat down across from her.
They got acquainted.
Sharon told him that she was in insurance, that she'd had dealings with Gene Latimer in the office and had gone by that day to get some signatures. "And I wanted to meet his wife."
"Why's that?"
"I was just wondering about her. What she's like?"
"Why would you want to know that?"
She regarded him evenly, letting him know that she was hiding something. "Women tend to get curious about certain things," she answered evasively, not wanting to give out everything at once.
He sensed the stone wall and turned the subject around. "I'm getting kind of curious myself."
"What about?"
"What you like to do on a date."
"That would depend on who I'm with."
"How 'bout a young guy with enthusiasm to bum?"
"I like a little experience with my enthusiasm."
"I don't think you'd be disappointed."
He seemed confident in that and it gave her an optimistic feeling, as far as having fun together went. Beyond that, in a more important area, well, maybe if he got what he wanted she could get what she wanted. What she needed. Maybe....
"Why don't we have dinner and pursue this further?" Sharon/Jackie suggested.
Again he did the choosing, coming up with a nice but modestly priced seafood restaurant. The place had a view of the mountains rather than the ocean but she wasn't asking for everything.
After dinner he suggested a taste of the good life. He kept the meaning of that to himself until, in his car, he pulled in at the gate of a mansion. He pressed the buttons of the computerized combination lock, the gate opened, then closed automatically as he drove up to the front door.
"The owner's away for a week," Rusty said. "He's a good old sport, let's me have the run of the place when he's gone."
"The son he never had?"
"Something like that."
"You get a lot of action this way?"
"You tell me."
"We'll see."
He had a key to the garage, which allowed entrance to the rest of the house. A tour of the ground floor brought them to the rear patio, and a view of the pool glittering in the moonlight.
"Swim?" Rusty suggested.
"Nude, I suppose."
"It's the only way."
"I'd like to find that out for myself."
A curving flight of broad, stone steps led down to the pool area. Sharon and Rusty dispensed with their clothes as they went, an odd sense of urgency taking hold of them as they got down to nothing. Finally it was a race to the pool. The splashes were almost simultaneous.
The water was warm and strangely caressing. Sharon broke from the surface with a whoop and, still stimulated by the water or her nakedness or the company, she started to vent further energy with a lap toward the far end, then back.
Rusty intercepted her and caught her up in a kind of game of tag. They tried to pull or push each other under the surface while trying to evade the same fate. Frolicsome fun, and clean, too.
Winded, Sharon climbed out and stood at the end of the pool, hair slicked back, sumptuous body on moonlit display. Easily Rusty swam toward her and mounted the steps, coming up to stand in front of her.
He crooked an arm and caught her at the small of her back and yanked her up against him. Their wet bodies soundlessly smacked together and stuck as if glued. She couldn't really make out his expression, but she could guess what it said. It's time, baby. It's high time.
Well, she could agree with that.
His mouth came to hers and she yielded acceptingly. His kiss was strong and sure and lasting. His cock enlarged against her pelvis, triggering an unfurling of want beneath her skin.
She put an arm around his neck and responded to the kiss with one of her own, sliding her tongue forward to probe lightly past his lips.
His hand played down over a haunch and he said, "We're all wet. Should we blow-dry each other?"
"That's using your head," she answered. "You're cute. Real cute."
Sharon twisted her lips and gave his swelling cock room between their bodies. She put a hand around his organ and squeezed it. Then she manipulated it in her hand. He fit the fingers of a hand between her thighs and rubbed knowingly at her cunt. They Frenched for a long moment.
Then Rusty took her hand from his cock and led her away from the pool. Finding a key under the mat, he entered a rather lavish changing room, switching on the lights as they entered. There was a bar, chairs, and a couch. Rusty embraced her in front of it. His hard-on poked her distractingly in the tummy.
"We're gonna have to find someplace to put that," she said, touching it.
"Didn't you say something about using your head?"
"Okay."
"Give me something to nibble on while you take care of that."
"My kind of guy," she enthused. And he was, to a fairly large extent. She started to feel a Utde cruddy about her plan to use and manipulate him. But what the hell? He shouldn't come off too much the worse for wear.
Sharon moved onto the couch, lounging on her side against the back of it. Rusty reclined on his side in front of her, end to end. She touched his hip and he shifted closer. She parted her thighs for him.
Her hand slipped from his hip onto his cock. It was at full rigidity, pointing at her-beseechingly, she thought. Straining for attention. Poor thing. Her heart melted.
Sharon squirmed down cosily in front of Rusty and let the oval of her lips slip past the ridge of his cockhead and on down the shaft. For a moment she simply held him in the wet warmth of her mouth, playing, tickling, her fingertips all over and around his balls.
Rusty was nuzzling happily at the soft, outer folds of her sparsely haired pussy. His tongue dipped out and tantalizing thrills went through her as she felt the wet slides brushing over her privates.
She started moving her mouth on his cock, slowly working up and down the pulsing shaft, squeezing with her lips, scraping all over with her tongue. Presently she allowed a few soft sucks into the action, then more.
Sharon exhaled with a strange feeling of contentment. 'I could go on like this all night,' she thought. As if going down on a guy fulfilled some special need in her being. Or maybe it was simply due to him taking care of her so generously at the same time.
She pushed her lips lower on his fuck-stick, beginning to throat him. She wasn't forgetting that she wanted him in a talkative mood, but it wasn't foremost in her mind, either. She was enjoying herself.
Her hips moved involuntarily, and her pelvis tilted. She made her pussy more accessible and pushed it at Rusty's wanting mouth. He seemed to love pussy, taking care of one, teasing it and pleasing it, the whole deal. Nice guy.
Unnoticed, uncounted minutes ticked by. Sharon glided her mouth over his cock time and time again, patient and giving and sometimes lewdly uninhibited.
He was no slouch himself. His moistened fingers stretched her protective pussy lips well aside and his wily tongue probed over and around her inflamed clit, then into her glistening pink lining.
With a groan she pulled her mouth from his shaft and said, "God, I've gotta have this inside me."
"It was inside you," he answered pleasantly and tucked his head back in between her thighs.
"I mean inside me," she said insistingly. She pushed him by the hip onto his back. Without bothering to turn to face him, she straddled his hips.
His hard, wet cock was lying back over his lower torso. She drew it upright in one hand and lowered her body, threading the tip into the mouth of her sheath. She lowered farther, hips working from side to side, working his cock inside, taking it inside, forcing its hard, thick length up inside her.
"Mmmmmm," she groaned in satisfaction as she came to the hilt. She wriggled her smooth buttocks against his hips. Rusty put his hands on them and rubbed her there.
"Well," he murmured, "you got your wish. What're you gonna do about it?"
"I'm gonna use it," she answered, rubbing his balls for him.
"I might like to see that."
She leaned forward, placing her hands on his lower thighs. Effortlessly she slid up on his cock and let herself down, continuing to ride him like that as if for her own enjoyment. There was some, but he wasn't exactly being left out in the cold.
Rusty gave a squirm under her after a short while and he groped greedily at her asscheeks. She was getting to him, she knew then. Good.
Sharon put a little flair into her cock-stroking. She let her hips sway as she moved up and down on him, letting her backside show a sexy wiggle of excitement or two. Guys went for visuals. Never mind the lewd kick she got from flaunting her bad self like this.
Rusty sat up and breezed his hands from her hips up to her conical, jutting breasts. He encircled the fleshy, erotically shaped masses and squeezed them as he slid his hands out to the points. Milking thrills from them. Sexy. He kissed her upper back as she continued riding his hard-on.
The water seemed to have evaporated from their skin. What wetness remained was more likely to be perspiration, if you wanted to be fine about it. Downright sweat if you didn't.
Rusty wrapped strong, hugging arms around Sharon and lay down again, bringing her down with him. She curved her back upward as he curved his downward, and she held still while he started thrusting his cock up into her.
"Taking over, huh?" she remarked with a smile.
"You bring out the beast in me."
"I can feel it. Yeah, I really can!"
He gave a sudden lurch to one side and they were rolling off the couch. Her arms were trapped by her sides in his embrace, giving her a moment of fright. But Rusty put a hand down while holding his other arm about her, and she was gently lowered stomach down onto the carpet with him on top of her.
Between her legs, his stomach cushioned by the rise of her rump, he continued stroking in and out of her increasingly feverish twat. Something about the texture of the carpet made her tingle all over. She writhed wantingly under him.
He pushed himself up onto straight arms and lunged into her cunt with drive after drive. The impacts would nudge her forward, his retreating allowing her to shift back into place. He was rocking her to ecstasy.
"Oh, yes!" she cried out in a strained voice. "Fuck me!"
Preliminary trembles flirted through her loins, out along her thighs and all of a sudden her climax exploded into being. Surge after surge of completion tore through her craving body, searing her with its raw heat waves and battering her aching need into submission.
Through the pounding sensations she heard the raspy groans coming from Rusty's throat and she knew that he was cumming. It felt like he was chasing each spurt from his thrusting cock up her tunnel and packing it against her pulsing core. She thrilled to the feel of the wet, sexy heat he was filling her with.
Later, she had her dress on, and her shoes, but nothing else. Her hair had been toweled and was mostly dried out. They had moved to the living room of the house just a minute ago. Sharon was taking in the surroundings as Rusty fixed her a drink.
"Are you this friendly with all your clients?" she asked as he approached from the liquor cabinet.
"Hardly. Some are okay, some have a different attitude toward the help." He handed her her vodka and orange juice.
"What about the wives?"
"What about them?"
"Any of them ... lonely?"
"Dozens."
"What do you do about it?"
"As little as possible."
"Oh? I'd have said you had a pretty healthy appetite. Surely they can't be all bad."
"It's not that. It'd just be bad policy to go around screwing the clients' wives."
"You hold pretty hard and fast to that rule, do you?"
He showed a sheepish grin. "Well...."
"Who is she?"
"My secret."
"Good man. It isn't Rachel Latimer, is it?"
"No, it isn't Rachel Latimer."
"Too bad," Sharon said to that. She sipped her drink and moved by Rusty, going to a fancy but comfortable couch. Rusty came over and sat down with her
"Why?" he asked. He slipped his hand under her dress, resting it warmly on her near thigh.
"It'd give me an idea of what kind of shape the marriage is in."
"What's that to you?"
"A matter of personal interest. Do you think you could get her into bed if you put your mind to it?"
"Why would I want to do that?" he asked, seemingly without interest. He was looking down at her bare legs as he played his fingers up and down the inside of her thigh. Sharon left them casually apart.
"Why wouldn't you? I'll bet you've thought about it a lot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!" she said definitely.
He grinned that guilty, shy grin of his. "She's got it all, I'll grant her that."
"She may have all you want, but does she have all she wants?"
"It's important to you?"
"Damned important." She faced him with a knowing expression. "You could do it, couldn't you? And you would, for the hell of it, or maybe just to prove that you could?"
"Maybe."
"What's been holding you back?"
"She's married. I kinda like the guy."
"Why don't you let me worry about him," she murmured.
"So that's it. You're after the family jewels." She let that pass. "I want to know what I'm up against. Will you help me?"
"Well, you know what they say."
"What?"
"Every man has his price." In case thatadidn't give her the message, he teased his fingers up to the juncture of her slightly parted thighs and touched the lips of her pussy.
Glinting at him over the rim of her glass, she parted her knees wider. She tilted her pussy out from under and slide her ass forward slightly. "You drive a hard bargain."
"Nothing you can't afford," he said to that, easing his fingertips up and down on her pussy, pressing his palm against her soft-haired mound.
No, it wasn't anything she couldn't afford. It was a small price to pay. In fact, it was hardly a price at all. She liked to fuck and generally mess around. As long as pleasure resulted she couldn't see any great sin in putting an ulterior motive behind it on occasion. Rusty sure didn't act like he was going to hold anything against her-figuratively speaking that is!
Rusty got to his feet somewhat abruptly and whipped his clothes off. To her small surprise and larger delight, his cock was returning to form.
He sank to his knees before her on the rug. He opened her dress and pulled it from her shoulders and arms, bunching it about her waist as he pulled her ass to the edge of the seat. Her bent knees went out to either side of him.
He worked a caressing hand over his cock, drawing it to hardness. Leaning his hips forward, he fed the glans into her slit.
Sharon pulled her thighs farther apart for him and slid a hand down to pry open her pussy. Already she was looking forward to another good dicking from his hard cock-meat. Amazing. Sometimes she thought she could never be really satisfied sexually.
Rusty worked more and more of his pliant cock-shaft into her lining. He wanted to feel himself getting hard inside her, she assumed. After that he could want anything. She looked at her drink but set it aside. She didn't need it.
"You gonna do this to Rachel?" she said to him with a sly look.
"Want me to show you what I'm gonna do to Rachel?"
"That might be fun," she said. Good, dirty fun. And it was.
CHAPTER THREE
The note read: Meet me at Smiley's. You'll know me when you see me.
There was an address. The place wasn't far out of her way. Rachel bit softly on her bottom lip.
She had found the folded piece of paper on the windshield of her car after coming out of the hairstylist's. Reading it, her pulse quickened.
A name flashed across her mind, a face, a memory. But it couldn't be. She hadn't thought of him in years-why should he suddenly pop up? And why would he want to seek her out after all this time? And so mysteriously.
It wasn't him, she told herself as she got into her car. She was silly to think so. Still, there was no question of her not going to this place called Smiley's.
She found it an ordinary looking bar, probably a watering hole for the local, lower-echelon white collar types in the area. No danger of her bumping into anybody she knew. Aside from the person who had invited her, of course. Was that why this particular place had been chosen?
The crowd was thin at this hour. A quick search didn't reveal any familiar faces, though. She thought about leaving but decided against it. She told herself not to let her hopes get up, and took a seat at the bar.
You couldn't really tell her age by looking. She could have been twenty-nine or thirty-nine. She was thirty-two. Her hair was long, curly, bouncy, with a color that wasn't quite blond, nor quite brown. Her face was slender, tanned, and stunning. Her blue eyes glittered.
Someone slid onto the stool next to her. She turned to look and in an off tone said, "Oh. It's you."
"Great," Rusty said, "you're disappointed."
She averted her eyes guiltily, smiling with slight embarrassment at herself and her silly hopes.
"I wanted to talk to you, away from everything," he said then.
"What about?"
"It's kind of personal. Could we take a table?"
As she started to slide off her stool he ordered a beer and then followed her to a comer booth. She brought her drink with her and held it sort of at arm's length on the table. She sat fully upright against the back of the seat, all as if to keep her distance.
Rusty leaned comfortably toward her. "First of all, I'm not in the habit of luring anybody's wife to bars or anywhere else," he said quietly.
"Maybe you should try it," she remarked without malice. "It seems to work."
"I don't know. That was the easy part."
"Is this going to be a proposition, Rusty?"
"No, ma'am."
"That's good. Because I'm not interested in sordid afternoon romps."
"What are you interested in?"
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm curious. About you. It's gotten into my head and I can't shake it. I have this craving to get to know you. To understand you. To figure you out. Do you have the foggiest notion of what I mean?"
"Yes, Rusty," she answered calmly. "I believe you're smitten."
"Badly."
She smiled halfway, trying to keep it to herself. It was flattering, she supposed. And quite a boost after the disappointment of not meeting whom she had expected to meet here today.
She wondered about that. Why had it been such a disappointment? Was she really that unhappy? That bored? That ... whatever?
Well, at least someone found her attractive. Beyond the sexual, that was. Hell, she knew she could stiffen just about any cock she wanted. That was no big deal. But to spark a deeper attraction-curiosity, he called it-now that was something to warm up to.
But where did it leave them?
Her eyes fixed on his. He seemed incapable of looking away. Obviously, he was fascinated by her. But he was also a little worried that it might end here.
Left to her own impulses, she would have slid over and cosied up next to him and told him all her troubles and her interests and her disinterests and all the rest. Which surprised the hell out of her.
It was a day for surprises. Pleasant and unpleasant, piled one on top of the other in a confusing jumble.
She needed to talk to someone. But not to him. The less she had to do with Rusty the better, at least until she was sure of where she stood and what she wanted.
"I'm the soul of discretion," he said to her next. "And I want what you want."
"I want some time to think," she told him.
"Okay. Be sure. Either way."
She took some of her drink and started to move from her seat.
"Incidentally," he said, giving her pause as she stood.
"Yes?"
"Don't knock sordid afternoon romps until you've tried them." He smiled, the friendly advisor.
Somehow it pulled a smile out of her before she left.
Coming right down to it, there didn't seem to be much to think about. As she lay in bed that night, mulling things over, she found everything pretty clear.
No, she wasn't happy. Yes, she was lonely. Yes, she was intrigued by Rusty. She did want to let him into her life.
It just seemed strange that she hadn't noticed any of it before, and a little disconcerting that a simple note left on her windshield could have such an impact. It was as if blinders had been ripped from her.
Automatically thinking of Gil Tatum was strange, too. She hadn't seen him in years. Had she ever been that serious about him? Daddy certainly had never approved of him. There was no real reason for her to be suddenly missing him as much as she did.
That damned Rusty! She hated him for starting this. Everything had been fine until today, or so she had thought. They said the truth set you free, but it was only making Rachel feel miserable.
Well, he had started it, he could finish it. And in the meantime, help see her through.
She arranged to meet him in the park the next day. They walked on a relatively secluded bicycle path, and talked. He hadn't expected to hear from her so soon, he said. And she said it kind of surprised her too.
"I feel I can trust you," she said honestly-she had thought about that more than anything. "I think you can be good for me, though God knows what I can do for you. I get the feeling you have some pretty romantic notions about me."
"Maybe. I'll try to keep my sense of humor about it."
She smiled, almost laughing, and she thought, my God, I honestly think I've forgotten how. Where have I been? In a coma, for crying out loud?
So they walked in the park, and it was nice-the kind of nice that made a person want to do it again, and more. There was a native crafts show that she wanted to see, and they went together. They met for lunch. They learned each other's background. They discovered each other for the first time.
And a week after meeting him, Rachel knew beyond any doubt that they were heading straight for a bedroom and it didn't bother her a bit.
"I've been thinking," she said to him over the phone one morning. "If you can get the time off, I'd like to try out your ideas on sordid afternoon romps."
"Well now," he said, sounding pleased, "what brought this on?"
"I don't know. It seems inevitable, I guess. I can't figure out what we're waiting for."
"Where and when?"
It was her idea, so she made it her treat. A downtown hotel, a room with a view and a big, wide, handsome bed. That day. He was free from noon until two.
She wore nylons and a garter belt with matching bikini underwear, all black. If she was going to go sordid she was going to go all the way! She chose a simple dress, a double-breasted sort of thing accented with big shiny buttons. Respectable but sexy.
Her purse swinging at her side, she went almost skippingly to her car. As if she had not a care in the world. An attitude that should have shocked her but somehow missed entirely. She didn't feel married today, and it wasn't going to bother her. That was that.
Waiting in the hotel room changed nothing. Hearing his knock at the door changed nothing either. All it did was increase her feeling of anticipation, and of belonging to something, if not someone. Involvement, perhaps.
Rusty had a clean shirt on, and his jeans. He had come directly from a job. She closed and bolted the door and put her arms around him and held herself close, inhaling the salty richness of his hard-earned sweat.
His hands went to her lightly. "I could use a shower, I think," he said.
"You'd only have to do it again later."
Being accepted as he was, he let his arms close around her with a lasting, manly squeeze. She sighed longingly against his neck. How long had it been since she'd been held like this? God.
He wasn't letting go, either. Not until she'd had enough. She held on tighter. God. She was going to cry if she didn't watch it.
He started swaying her gently from side to side, somehow making it not so serious. Intentionally, she thought. He had good instincts, her gardener. Or he was wise beyond his years. Either way, she was in good hands.
"Oh, baby," she said softly, "I've been so alone...."
"It's okay now. You've got somebody."
They stayed like that, hugging close, for moment after moment. Rachel wondered if this was what trees felt like in the springtime, or flowers. And wasn't it just too cute that he was a gardener by trade? She smiled at that. Because she was starting to feel so good, another thought occurred to her, and she grinned.
"Poor Rusty," she murmured. "You must be wondering if she's ever gonna get around to the real action she said she wanted."
"Who's complaining?"
"Not you," she answered. Then, teasingly, "Maybe you think you can afford to wait."
"You old broads aren't as dumb as you look."
She laughed softly, low in her throat. So she did remember how to after all. What else did she remember? Oh yes.
"I'm gonna suck your cock," she whispered against his ear. And in the next beat she let herself start sliding down the front of his body, her arms trailing off his shoulders as she settled before him on her knees. Her open hands slid down and pulled his jeans open, worked them from his hips and ass.
She hooked fingers under the waistband of his briefs and started working them down. She bared his backside first, pausing to squeeze his cheeks, and lightly caress them, watching the bulge out front grow and grow.
She exposed the base of the thickening shaft and part of the length. She left the rest of it still trapped in his briefs. For the moment.
Ass on heels, Rachel undid the buttons of her dress and took it off. She liked the feeling of being half-naked in front of him, and enjoyed the approving look he gave her. This was going to be fun.
She leaned forward and licked at the exposed portions of Rusty's prick. She blanketed the bold topside of his shaft with her lips and crowned it with a juicy kiss. Playfully she took it between her teeth and pretended to bite down on the meaty firmness.
She then took the white waistband between her teeth and pulled down on it. More of his cock came into view. She wrestled further with his briefs and at last his hard-on bobbed out and up next to her face.
Rachel's mouth went to it instantly. Her tongue wriggled avidly against the underside and back and forth on the flanks. She kissed at it all over, rubbing her face against it in a lewd exhibition of naughtiness.
She wasn't shy to begin with, and there was nothing to be shy about with Rusty, so there was no reason not to let herself go. She knew how to have fun, and how to show a guy a good time. Besides, if she cared for him like she did Rusty, then there should be no holds barred.
Another thing she had forgotten was how much she liked to let her hair down, so to speak. Oh, Gene kept her in her share of climaxes, but much of the fun had gone out of it. They went through the motions together. That was it. It wasn't play anymore. Hadn't been in quite a while.
She remembered her first experience, and a few since then, and the effect the stiff rod of a special guy had on her. It was like a key turning a lock and letting loose all sorts of lewd and lascivious impulses. She was living that now, and being carried away by it.
Rachel fit her pliant lips on the tip of Rusty's cock and slid them past his ridge, on down the shaft like it was a perfectly natural thing to do. And it was, the way she felt toward him. She was just totally grateful and delighted he had come along.
Her head swayed to and fro on her slender neck as she glided her clinging mouth over Rusty's cock. She loved the fit of it in her mouth, the smooth, hot, pulsing feel of it, everything about it.
A feeling came over her. Part wanting, part surrender, all hot, it compelled her to pause long enough to say, "Don't say when, if you know what I mean."
His shoulders against the wall of the short corridor leading from the door, he sagged a little. "Jesus," he breathed, "you're too good to me."
"Just showing my appreciation," she said to that, and went on fellating him with long, sweeping slides of her knowing mouth.
"I'll show you a thing or two," he promised.
Rachel devoted herself to his pleasure. She really was showing her appreciation. He had brought her to life again.
She treated his meat to her loving, sensuous suction, every lick and lap drawing his juices that much closer to the boiling point. Maybe she was going a little far a little fast, wanting him to cum in her mouth. But she didn't care. It seemed all she had been doing was living under one rule or another. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all!
Rusty's hips began to ease to and fro as his excitement built. Rachel moved her hands up and around to the firm crescents of his ass and encouraged the stroking motion. He started fucking her urgently sucking mouth.
With low, soft-voiced aaahhhhing sounds he climaxed. His heavy cock bucked and spasmed and his thick, hot jizz leapt from the wet slit. Rachel welcomed his creamy flows with gulping pleasure and drained him dry.
"Ooohhh," he groaned, sagging against the wall, her avid mouth staying with his softening prick. "You're fantastic. You're as good as it gets."
Rachel pulled from him and rested her erect weight on her heels, smiling up at him, quite pleased with herself and her handiwork.
Rusty pushed himself upright. Quickly and efficiently, with her content to watch, he got out of his clothes. He looked at her with a determined face and in a low, meaningful tone said, "Now, lady...."
He caught her by a wrist and drew her to her feet, led her into the room, toward the bed. Moving onto it on his knees, he pulled her on, toppling her so that she fell stomach down on the satiny bedding.
As he unhooked her bra she said, "I love you take charge types."
"Watch that cute talk. It annoys me."
"I wouldn't want to do that."
"Really? I get the feeling you want to do everything."
"You've got me there."
He grasped her panties and tugged. She had put them on over the garter belt for convenience's sake. Now she lifted her backside and let them slip from her hips and ass and crotch.
Rusty left them at mid-thigh for the moment. He sliced a hand between her thighs and up against her crotch, fingers on the softness of her pussy. As he stroked at her she rolled her hips to rub against his hand.
"Am I what you expected, Rusty?" she asked.
"Badder," he answered. "A whole lot badder."
"I hope all this won't give you a one-track mind about me."
"I'll keep a little perspective."
Feeling good, feeling uninhibited, Rachel rolled over onto her back. "Ready for the flip side?"
Smilingly he pulled the loosened bra from her slender arms. Skimpy bikini lines highlighted her plump, ripe breasts, and his hands appeared drawn to them. He groped the lush flesh and roiled it about on her chest.
"You're sexy, you know that?" she said huskily.
His hands swept downward, caught her undies and whisked them from her long, tapered, nyloned legs. He flipped her shoes off and swung around to lie down with her. He nudged a leg between her thighs as she twisted toward him and pressed his thigh up against her twat. Embracing, they started kissing sweetly.
Maybe it would last a week, maybe a month, maybe longer. Who could say? Right now Rachel felt a connection, felt involved, and that was enough for now. It was plenty.
Ironic, though. She felt she knew him, and thought he knew where she was coming from. There was caring, and fun. She felt more attached to Rusty than to Gene.
It seemed that that should bother her, but it didn't. Maybe it would catch up later. Right now, everything was fine. Everything was great.
"I'm dying to go down on you, you know," Rusty murmured to her.
"You don't have to ask."
"I just wanted to be sure."
He worked his way down her body with ease and patience, not mouthing too long in one place, teasing and tantalizing her body, preparing it for the real nitty-gritty.
Rusty rolled onto his stomach between her legs, nuzzling her lower tummy. Rachel rested with her knees up, thighs pressing on his shoulders, her pussy up and out and waiting, her head down on the bedding and tilted back. There was a dreamy expression on her stunning face. Her eyes were closed for better concentration.
Rusty shifted his weight farther back and pressed his lips at her clit zone. Her hips lifted and rotated, grinding her aroused, anticipating twat at his mouth.
He forced his tongue out and down and licked over her swollen cunt lips. Her knees suddenly went wide and her folds spread and he seemed to bask his probe and lips in her inner heat.
'God,' Rachel thought, 'The things people do with each other.' She grinned widely.
Rusty's tongue lapped busily at her entrance, always with pressure and making the slides of his tongue as long as he could. He brushed over her tender folds and her clit time after time, wafting hot tingles through her system.
"I'm starting to feel good," she murmured to no one in particular. "I'm starting to feel real good."
At that point he started delving into her dewy fuck-slit. Poking and prodding the hot pink sponginess, and then slurping at her with sweet sucks, he soon had Rachel writhing out of control on the luxuriant bedding.
The tingly pleasure became hotter and hotter. It was in her ass and thighs, in her titties, and gathered like molten lava in her pussy. Still her hunger cried out, stronger than ever. The ache of it wracked her body.
But Rusty was there for her. He seemed to sense it inside her and she could feel his determination to vanquish it. He would do it, too. He was doing it.
"Ooohhh," Rachel cried out in a high voice. She was almost there. "Ooohhh, oohh, almost, oh now, now, like that, aahhh, aahhh, aarghh!"
The intense shivers of her climax cut her voice off. Her head tilted way back, mouth open and working but with no sound coming out, really.
A long moment of vivid throbs and rushes of final pleasure passed, and she was released from the feverish grip. Cooing, sighing sounds went out to Rusty, and her body relaxed before him, turning soft and limp, spent of passion and need. When he moved up and lay on top of it the flesh and bone seemed to meld with his shape. He rolled over and put her on top.
"I'll get stuck on you, you keep treating me like that," she said.
"I've got room."
She exhaled sighingly. "I wonder if I do."
"You don't have to think about that now."
"I suppose there are more fun things to do." He put his hands on her asscheeks and squeezed affectionately, and gave her a playful jiggle. "I was right," she said brightly. "Make me a confession," he said then. "What?"
"Who were you expecting in Smiley's that day? I know it wasn't me."
"Oh, nobody."
"Liar."
"You know me all too well already."
"Old boyfriend? New boyfriend? I'd like to know who my rivals are."
"Old boyfriend," she relented. "No big deal."
"I don't know-you seemed pretty disappointed."
She lifted her head, gazed down at him with a sex-sated expression. "Do I look disappointed now?"
"Not much. Tell me old what's his name doesn't mean anything to you, though. Just to make me feel better."
Rachel let her head drop back onto his shoulder. She sighed. "His name was Gil Tatum," she said indulgently, "and he doesn't mean anything to me anymore."
"Maybe I should make double sure of that," Rusty said in response. "How?"
"Well, first, I'm gonna have to get hard again."
"This has possibilities."
"And then I'll fuck you until you don't have a thought in your head."
"Real possibilities," she enthused, already wriggling down on his slack body. "I'll help you with the first part."
"Can I watch?"
"At the very least," she said, smiling.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was Saturday before Sharon reached Rusty. She called from her place. She recognized his voice when he answered. She said it was Jackie and asked how things were going.
"I guess you'll be pleased," he said. "She's a fallen woman."
"Good for you," Sharon responded. "I am pleased."
"She wants to see me again."
"Even better. Are you going to oblige?"
"Sure."
"Think maybe she's getting stuck on you?"
"I don't think there's much chance of that."
"Why not?"
"She's not exactly a snob, but she's pretty sure people have their place, if you know what I mean."
"Fuck the hired help but don't marry them."
"Not that I'm complaining. She's pretty good."
"Well, maybe you should be thanking me for helping you two get together."
"Maybe. Especially since it may not have been necessary."
"What do you mean?"
"She seemed pretty hard up. She might have put a hand down my jeans without my encouragement. Even with the other guy."
"What other guy?"
"Somebody called Gil Tatum. An old boyfriend or something. She said he's forgotten, but I didn't believe her."
"Why not?"
"She couldn't look me in the eye when she said it."
"Does she talk about him much?"
"No."
"Do me a favor?"
"Pump her a little?" he guessed.
"To coin a phrase."
"Well ... okay. It'll give us something to do between orgasms."
"Charming," Sharon remarked.
Getting off the phone, she considered this new bit of information. And she went back through her memory to see if the name meant anything to her.
It didn't, but that wasn't a problem. It was enough that he meant something to Rachel.
Gil Tatum.
Hmmmmm.
According to Rusty's next report, he was more than just an old boyfriend. He had been at one time the man Rachel was going to marry.
What happened?
Well, she met Gene, who was more suitable, and that ended it. There had been some bitterness, but Rusty hadn't learned how much. Or what had made him unsuitable.
In between these last two calls to Rusty, Sharon had been spending some of her free time tracing down Gil Tatum. He was still living in the Vancouver area and had a major interest in a chain of retail stores in the province. And bless his heart, he was divorced.
Sharon considered it, then decided that she had to see him. She called his secretary and arranged a lunch appointment for him and Gene Latimer. He might not come, Gene being a rival and all, but she had to start somewhere, somehow.
He came, arriving at the restaurant right on time. The hostess led him to Sharon's table, offering her her first look at him.
Tall, lanky and sinewy as a cowboy and almost as weather-beaten, with piercing blue eyes and evenly chiseled features, he couldn't have been unsuitable because of his looks. With streaks of gray in his hair and a calm, late-thirties demeanor, he was probably more attractive now than he had been then.
Sharon extended a hand and introduced herself. Gil took it firmly and said hello and sat down. She told him that Mr. Latimer would not be joining them.
"Oh?"
"This is more a personal matter," she stated. "Welcome to the wonderful world of false pretenses, Mr. Tatum."
"What's going on here?" he said easily.
"I want to talk to you about Rachel Gates."
"Rachel? You mean Rachel Latimer, don't you?"
"Now, but not when you knew her. And who knows? She may become Rachel Gates again."
His eyes held on her, somewhat confused and surprised, but intrigued. A waitress arrived and they both ordered drinks.
"Lunch will be on me, by the way," Sharon said. "Or should I say, on Mr. Latimer, though he doesn't know it yet."
"Won't he be curious as to why you had lunch with me?"
"I won't give him any names. Like I said, this is personal."
"You also said it involved Rachel."
"Yes. I was wondering, well, how you feel about her?"
"Indeed?"
"Suppose I told you she misses you?"
"How would you know that?"
"I have it on good authority."
Drinks were served but Gil seemed not to notice his. He stared at Sharon, openly curious if not a little suspicious. "What's it to you, anyway?"
If he was going to trust her she was going to have to show some trust in him. She put it on the level. "I want Gene's wife out of the way. Out of his life. She's ready to be taken, and I think you're the man to do it."
"That's quite an ambition. And quite an assumption."
"I understand you almost married once. You were upset when it fell though."
"You've done some homework. Generally I like that."
"What happened?"
"It didn't fall through," he corrected. "It was thrown out. Daddy didn't approve of me."
"Why not?"
"Who knows? Maybe he just didn't like the way I combed my hair. Anyway, it was enough for her, and she dropped me for the great go-getter, Gene Latimer. Daddy just loved him to death. The fair-haired son he never had."
"You're still resentful."
"I could have made her damned happy, but that wasn't good enough for her."
"A girl's heart belongs to Daddy."
"To hell with her."
"Daddy's gone now, and she's alone. And lonely. Gene was her father's choice, not hers. She's stuck with him."
"Then let her come to me. It was her mistake."
"She's not the type."
"Well, I've got my pride, too."
"You're also practical. A businessman. And deep down, you want her back."
Now he noticed his drink. He took a stiff shot from it. "So?"
"So, Gil, what would it take from me to get you to call her?" A kind of business proposition, with nothing business-like about it. The tone of her voice, her look, there was no missing her real meaning, her real offer.
Gil chuckled, slightly taken aback by her frankness. And boldness. "Shoot."
"I'm ready to bend over backwards to get what I want," she assured.
"I might prefer it if you bent over forwards," he responded.
"Well. That's a start."
"Let's have some lunch, so I can have time to consider this offer."
"I took the liberty of arranging for someone to fill in for me back at the office," Sharon said. "I have all the time you have."
Later, and not really that much later, they were riding the elevator up to his luxurious apartment. He'd said that he used it on the times he worked late at the office or didn't feel like making the long drive to his home out on the island.
"Do you use it for other things?" Sharon had asked.
"Why don't we give it a try," he had answered.
She turned to him now and draped her arms over his shoulders. She touched the tip of his nose with her own, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes. She brushed her lips over his. They parted, and she flicked a soft tongue between them. He started to kiss her and she reciprocated.
"I'm gonna show you a terrific time," she promised in a whisper.
"I wish I could make it easier for you, but I'm a pretty proud guy."
"She probably misses that the most about you."
The elevator doors opened and she walked with him down a short, carpeted hall. He unlocked the door and let her in. She was impressed by open space and the glass-walled mountain view on the other side of the sunken living room. She skipped on further details, turning back to Gil and taking him in her arms.
The kiss was long and satisfying, and provocative. He was getting hard-she could feel it against her mound through her skirt. But she wondered if it was for her, or Rachel.
Sharon knew he still had feelings for Rachel. She didn't think he really needed a lot of encouragement to call her. He'd been waiting for an excuse. Any excuse. Anything to salve his wounded pride. Helping out an ambitious but generous secretary would serve as well as any. And better than some.
Sharon leaned her hips forward, pressing in on his cock. "Has it been a while for you or are you just glad to see me?"
"Both, actually."
"I'll make sure you haven't forgotten anything. And grease your wheels for Rachel."
She slipped his jacket off, and his tie, and his shirt. She led him down the steps into the living room and sat him in the middle of a long, deep couch. Bending over, she loosened his slacks and, with a little help from him, drew them from his hips with his shorts.
Gil's freed prick strained upward. Still not quite hard, it leaned to one side, then fell back over his bush. Sharon closed a warm hand on it and squeezed, stroking a little. Her mouth went to his and his cock gave a surge of growth.
Pulling from him, she knelt before him on the carpet. She slipped off his shoes and socks, then his pants and shorts. Standing, she undid the belt holding her buttonless blouse in place and removed both. Each move had a deliberate but casual look to it, drawing out the waiting, the build-up.
She unzipped the skirt and let it fall. She wasn't wearing a bra nor was she wearing panties. A black garter belt and matching stockings with high heels remained. Standing there, she finger-combed her hair as he drank in the view.
She knew she had a good body, and she was sexily dressed. She knew how to please. There was a part of her that enjoyed showing it all off, and seeing the effect it had. It pumped up her ego, and helped assure her that she could and would get what she wanted. Now, and later.
Sharon felt sexy, too. She was getting turned on, being naked with him. He was a pretty hot guy, and that had to have an effect on her. There could be no denying it, even if she had wanted to. And she didn't. She didn't have anything against enjoying herself with a man other than Gene. Because Gene wasn't hers yet. Or rather, he didn't think of her as being his. That made a difference.
Sharon straddled Gil's thighs with her knees at the edge of the seat. She lowered her wide, sexy ass back onto his knees. She crouched there, on straight arms, giving him a smoky look.
"You're gonna get your cock sucked, do you know that?" she murmured.
He seemed accustomed to wanton women. He was having no trouble just sitting there and enjoying her. He clasped both hands behind his head and murmured, "I was hoping I would."
Sharon curled a loose hand around his reclining hard-on and slowly stroked up and down on it. "Do you wanna cum in my mouth? Or would you rather feel my pussy first?"
"Let's see how it goes."
Accepting that, she lowered her upper body. The points of her full, hanging tits settled lightly on his upper thighs. She brought both hands in on either side of the base of his cockshaft, holding it upright for her opening mouth.
She encircled the point and gave it a soft squeeze with her lips. They spread sexily around his cockhead as she pushed farther onto it. Letting her velvet ring slip over his ridge, she warmly squeezed the uppermost part of his swollen shaft.
Her tongue moved against him. The tip slipped out past her bottom lip, exploring down the smooth underside of Gil's cock. It reached around to one side, then the other, and disappeared into her mouth, it's subtle hot friction gone. But soon to return.
Sharon took her lips from Gil's dick and seemed to let her tongue have its way. Tilting her head to one side, she whisked her mouth up and down the flanks and underside of his hardened penis. You might have thought she was giving it a scrubbing, the way her tongue slaved over his spike of sensitive flesh.
Looking down the shaft, Sharon let her tongue run around and around on Gil's cockhead. It swelled further and strained up toward her mouth as if wanting inside. Her attitude was that it could wait.
Pulling in her tongue and, for the most part, holding it in, Sharon started rubbing over Gil's prick with her lips. Full, warm, soft and caressing, she swept them from balls to tip and back again. She went more slow than fast, teasing and tantalizing him to new heights.
Prolonging his exquisite agony, she tucked an arm in under her body and slipped the tips of her fingers under his balls. She moved her fingers testingly against them, assessing size and weight and sensitivity. Then she was tickling them, and lowering her mouth to brush her tongue over each.
Lost in what she was doing, she forgot about the reasons behind her actions. It was fun to be at play, she felt, and those were the only thoughts going through her head. It was fun to be dishing it out for a handsome, appreciative guy.
Sharon moved from Gil's nuts and glided her open lips up his cock-length. She fit them on his tip and lowered, spreading them out around him and enclosing more and more of the dashing prick in her wet, clingy warmth.
Now came a kind of easy time, something like a calm before a storm. Sharon bobbed her head with a slow, languorous motion, smoothing her experienced mouth over Gil's cock, keeping his interest up, stoking his fires, giving him something to savor, maybe to remember for a long time.
"You give really good head," he murmured. His hands came down to rest lightly on her head when not stroking at her wild mane of hair.
'Careful,' Sharon thought to herself. 'You'll get him hooked on you and he won't give two hoots about Rachel.' Not bad, if she were looking for a rich husband-any old rich husband. Which of course she wasn't.
Gene's wealth, or power, was a happy accident. Not to mention a nuisance. How much simpler it would have been if she could have just walked into his office and claimed him away from Rachel. How much simpler if he'd had control of Viking, and could throw Rachel out without a dime. Or if he just didn't care whether he was where he was now or not.
Simpler, but to be honest, it was better to have money than not. It wasn't just Gene who thought that way, though he probably cared more. Simpler, but to stay honest, not quite as much fun either. Sharon realized she was enjoying these mind machinations of hers. She seemed to have a knack for scheming, and a taste for it as well. Whoever would have guessed.
"Mmmmm," she groaned wantonly into his prick as she took it deep into her mouth for the umpteenth time. The pole was rigid, wickedly hot, greased with saliva, and just sexy as hell. Sharon gave a horny sort of wriggle and pushed herself up to face him.
"Reached any decision yet?" she asked.
"You seem to suddenly be in the mood for a fuck."
"I am a little wet, but don't let that interfere with what you want."
"I want variety. Ride me."
Sharon accepted this, too, and promptly moved ahead to straddle his hips. He slid his ass forward a little, to move his cock under her. In turn, she placed her hands on his shoulders for balance.
"Open me up," she said to him.
"Let it never be said I never lifted a finger to help," he said to that. And indeed he did lift a finger, a middle one, to the lips of Sharon's twat. He tickled to and fro between her lips, easing the steamy folds apart. He probed inward, finding her small slit, and delved farther inside with wriggling, ticking motions.
"You're quite wet," he said as if he were surprised. "And hot, too."
"You can stop helping then."
"I like helping," he answered, leaving his softly stroking finger where it was.
She slid her hands off his shoulders and leaned on them on her elbows. Her cone-shaped breasts swayed close to his face, within biting distance, in fact. "You really wanna help me? Suck on these for a while."
He wasn't helping her, at least not intentionally.
He was indulging himself, fiddling with her pussy and now her tits. But that was the order of the day. She was indulging him herself.
She was lucky. He might have been nasty, under the surface. Might really have put her through some paces. Although, in the right mood, in the right cause, she might have gone for that in a big way.
She was going for this in a big way. That was a fact. His finger was wicked fun, and his sucking mouth and swirling tongue and smooth lips on her tits were twice the delight.
Sharon didn't forget about his cock, although he seemed to have. She reached down with one hand and gripped it affectionately. She stroked up and down on it, twisting her wrist for swirling motions, keeping him ready until the time came.
"Okay, hot stuff," he breathed presently, "show me what you've got."
Sharon pushed herself upright over Gil's midsection and lowered. She worked the tip of his dong between the folds of her twat and threaded it into her body.
Taking her hand from the shaft, she worked herself down around it. She rocked her hips from side to side and worked them in a circle, stirring his length around inside her drippy twat.
On folded legs she let herself all the way down on his erection. She wriggled her asscheeks against his balls and shook her tits in front of his face. She felt like a wanton woman and didn't mind showing it. Especially since Gil didn't mind seeing it.
Grinning widely, he received a juicy kiss from her and gave one back. His hands smoothed over her sumptuously curved body, squeezing and caressing her soft places in lewdly groping fashion.
Sharon flexed her sinewy leg muscles and glided her pussy up the length of Gil's dick. She wriggled back down on it, the tightness of her twat grating on his hard flesh for terrific excitement.
"Oh," she crooned as her body twisted with a surge of arousal. The pleasure was definitely working on both sides.
Unhurriedly, steadily, she rode Gil's cock. Stroking it with increased friction, she built pleasure and excitement in layer upon layer. She was out to make it last, and she was succeeding. It would be intense, too.
"Was it like you thought?" she asked breathlessly. "Am I good for you?"
"You're sensational," he answered, unabashedly fondling her out-thrust tits.
"You wanna watch me sliding over your cock?" she asked, and saw his face light up like a Christmas tree.
Sharon leaned back on straight arms, hands planted on his lower thighs. She raised her knees and parted them wide as she got both feet under her. Her pussy mouth down firmly at the base of his prick, she eased back.
The smoothness of her asscheeks brushed over his upper thighs as she retreated from his loins. Sharon watched Gil look down his body and witness his glistening prick appear from the depths of her gripping cunt.
She let him have a glimpse of his ridge before she shifted forward and smoothly took him all the way inside again. She went on teasing and pleasing his cock like that for lasting moments, basking in his pleasure and her own.
"You must think I'm an awful slut," she murmured to him.
"I think you're a wonderful slut," he answered, and they both laughed.
"I love a good cock. It does something to me. Or is it the man behind it?"
"Flatterer."
"I mean it. Look. No, I'm gonna show you the flip side."
With the same deliberate sort of movements she had been using pretty much all along, Sharon lifted a leg and swung it over, dismounting to one side. She moved back astride of Gil's mid-section, facing away. She took his full length into her fiery twat and leaned forward.
On straight arms, hands on his knees and her knees flanking his hips, Sharon slithered forward on Gil's stiffness. His hands started at her shoulders and slid down her back to grip the fleshy cheeks that now wriggled and rocked and moved under his gaze.
"You sure can show a guy a good time," he remarked.
"I've hardly even started," Sharon said slyly. "You'll bum me out. There won't be anything left for Rachel."
Sharon curved her body and looked back at him over a shoulder while continuing to rock to and fro on his inflamed prick. "There'd better be," she murmured easily.
He grinned. "I don't suppose you want me to tell her what really made me call her up, do you?"
"I don't see any need for that," she answered coyly.
"Just how bad are you?" he wondered. "A little conniving here, a little non-truth there...."
"Not so bad," she responded. "Not so good, either," she added with a wink, then turned away and doubled the speed of her stroking pussy. She pushed her saucy asscheeks against his groping hands.
"Poor Gene," Gil said then. "I don't think he stands a chance."
"Sounds good to me. I don't think Rachel does either."
"Thanks, but aren't we getting ahead of ourselves?"
"Yeah," she answered, and then, in a different, lower tone, "Maybe ... but I don't think so."
CHAPTER FIVE
When Gene came back from lunch one day soon afterward, Sharon followed him into his office, closing the door behind her. "Can we have a talk?" she asked.
"Surely." He walked with her to a couch and they sat down together.
"I've been keeping a secret from you," she confided.
"Oh?"
"I want it out in the open so maybe it'll stop eating at me."
"What is it?"
"I want you," she replied, looking him in the eye. "I think I have since the first moment I saw you."
He looked like he didn't know what to think.
"It's not some passing fancy or some kind of silly crush," Sharon added. "It's the real thing. I want you so bad I can taste it."
"You must have been hiding it. I never realized."
"I have been, but I can't anymore. I know it's next to impossible for anything to happen between us-maybe hearing you say it would help put it behind me."
"Sharon," he said kindly, "you're a remarkably attractive woman, but you're right, it is next to impossible."
"Do you love her that much?"
"If not her than this company. They're a package deal, you know."
Sharon drew a breath. "Well, I guess I got what I asked for."
"You asked for the right thing. An affair would have been out of the question. Find yourself someone else. Forget about me."
"Could we be friends?"
"Of course."
"Share your troubles, all that stuff."
"You've got a deal."
Looking happy, Sharon got up and went to the door. She paused there, and faced him. "Too bad. We could've been great together. And I mean great"
Then she opened the door and went out.
All in all, she was quite satisfied. She had planted the seed. It might be a while before she could taste the sweet fruit of it, but what was a little more waiting for her? Especially when she would have such pleasant dreams to keep her company.
The next day was Saturday. Sharon slept late, not getting out of bed until the mid-morning sun was slanting in across her bed and making it too warm for comfort. She showered and pulled on a lacy, red, form-fitting teddy. What to put on next seemed like a major decision. Too much of a decision to be made on a lazy Saturday. She put her lightweight red robe on, leaving it hanging open, and went to see about breakfast.
Later, while she was watering her plants, there was a knock at the door. A look through the peephole showed her a well-dressed, well-groomed young man she did not recognize.
"Who is it?"
"Brian Holt. I'm a friend of Gil Tatum."
Sharon set the watering can aside and belted her robe shut and opened the door enough to look out. "You have a message from him or something?"
"No. But we should talk. It'll be well worth your while, I think."
She unhooked the chain and opened the door. He walked in, cool, calm, in charge of the situation. Sharon wondered what gave him such confidence. And why it made her feel wary.
"Nice place," he remarked without really looking at it. He had dark hair, styled simply, and blue eyes. He was handsome, tanned, and expensively cologned. "But you don't expect to hang around here forever, do you?" he said next, facing Sharon.
"Has Gil told you about me?" she asked, unable to see why he would have. Or how this guy could know so much if Gil hadn't told him.
"No. In fact I barely know Gil. I'm more a friend of yours than I am of his."
"How do you figure?"
"I'm the guy who's gonna let you have what you want-Gene Latimer, right?" She didn't answer. .
"You see, one phone call from me, and he'll know what you've been up to, and his wife will know, and when the ensuing shit hits the fan, the papers will know."
There was a sudden sick feeling in her stomach as realization struck home. Somehow he had learned everything, and was ready to use it however it suited him. It couldn't be happening, but it was. Everything had been set up so perfectly. Everything had been set. Now....
"What do you want?" she managed to say without choking.
"Cooperation."
"In what?"
"Call it business. You have access to the innermost workings of Viking Industries. You know beforehand what they're going to do and when they're going to do it. That kind of knowledge is valuable."
"You want insider information?"
"Call it what you will. I just want to know what's going on, when there's a chance for a profit to be made, that kind of thing."
"You're asking me to sell Gene out."
"I'm asking you to save yourself," he countered. "Besides, I'm not out to ruin the company. Just skim a little off the top without them knowing about it. No harm in that, right?"
She was suspicious. He made it sound like she would be getting off easy. She worried that giving him a little now would trap her into giving a helluva lot more later.
"So," Brian Holt said, "do I have your cooperation?"
"You want my answer now? Just like that?"
"What is there to think about?"
He had a point. The bastard had done his homework.
"Alright," she said.
"Are you sure?"
"What do you mean am I sure?"
"Maybe the question should be, am I sure? It would be so easy for you to just say you'll cooperate. How do I know you mean it?"
She was getting his drift. The subtle lechery in his eyes filled her in. "You want proof," she said knowingly. "Of a very specific kind. Or do we just call it a gesture?"
"If we're going to be in bed together we might as well go all the way, right?"
Sharon let herself give him a slow once over, causing him to think she was considering it. She was, but not for as long as it seemed. She had decided to do it. It would put him at ease, and buy time for her to find a way out. She just didn't want to appear too eager.
"Maybe," she answered.
"C'mere," he said easily.
Hesitantly, she went forward. She noted the calm look of self-assurance on his striking face. He didn't seem to mean her any malice. It was as if he thought they would both enjoy this, despite the circumstances.
Maybe they would. Another time, another set of circumstances, and she would have been all over him. He was that attractive. Was there anything she wouldn't have wanted to try out with him? Maybe, maybe not. Even as things were she felt certain temptations.
She hoped she didn't enjoy it too much. Being with Gil had got her thinking about her own pride, what she would and would not do, or put up with, or let happen. If he wanted to make her cum, should she allow it? If she did, she would have no shame. But did she really want that?
Brian loosened the belt about her waist and pulled her robe open. Sharon did not waver. He drew the material farther aside to reveal the thrust of her chest, the pinched-in curves of her waist, the sumptuous flare of her hips, all appealingly encased in the suggestively-cut teddy.
"I see you've dressed for the occasion," he murmured. "Sexy." He slipped a hand into a crook of her waist, then around to the small of her back. He drew her up against him. His body was firm, muscular, under the thin Italian suit. His cologne was masculine, but subtle. He had a virility about him, coupled with a suggestion of debauchery, and the closeness of him stirred something primitive inside her.
Maybe she shouldn't fight it. Maybe she should take the experience for everything she could get out of it. Use him for every pleasure she could get. It would be one way of evening the score. And besides, she was still her own woman. She could do what she pleased, and what pleased her. Maybe there was a time to be shameless.
He touched his lips to hers. Lightly at first, either secretly wary of her biting them or daring her to. She let him kiss her, harder, but did not respond, although the temptation to kiss him back was there. She remained undecided.
Holt took the robe from her and tossed it aside. Then he put both hands on her waist and pulled her against him. Kissing her for a long moment, he moved his hands down to the juts of her asscheeks. Squeezing them, he pressed her against his throbbing erection.
He wasn't demanding or insistent, just gently determined. Sharon felt her arms rise and wrap loosely around his neck. She felt herself give in a little more and mold her mouth with his. Want stirred within her, mingling with excitement.
'What the fuck?" she thought to herself. 'He seems nice enough, despite everything. And he is a prime stud. Who the hell is ever gonna know? Besides, it isn't him getting the better of me. It's my own body. And if you can't trust your own body, who can you trust?"
Sharon relaxed, her body seeming to settle comfortably against his. He embraced her possessively, and it made her more certain he wanted more than some kind of proof that she would cooperate. It was like he wanted to put his brand on her, not just have an uneasy partner. He wanted there to be some emotional tie, some extra reason for her to play along.
Strange. It wasn't really necessary. He had enough on her. Unless he was unsure of that. Or maybe it was an ego thing. There must be some satisfaction in blackmailing a woman, bedding her, and having her come up smiling.
Sharon didn't know or care which it was. At the end, somehow, some way, she would come out on top. That was all that mattered.
"Okay, stud, you win," she said calmly. "Which do you prefer? Bed, couch, or right here on the floor?"
"Let's start at the top of the list."
She eased her way around him and together they walked to the bedroom. His hand rested amiably on the far, upper curve of her buns.
The sun had shifted most of the way off the bed. Sharon moved ahead of Holt to stretch out on one side of it. He started to undress.
"Interesting technique you have with women," she remarked.
"I haven't had any complaints."
"I had a feeling you hadn't," she responded truthfully. 'Here is a guy who could get away with anything with women,' she thought.
He was down to his briefs in short order, and Sharon couldn't resist moving toward him. He had the build of an Olympic diver, with a lightly haired chest and a good tan. The bulge in his underwear was delicious.
She reached for the front of his waistband. Crouching on the bed, she pulled it down over his swelling cock and plump, hairless balls. His cock fell out onto the back of her hand, hot and heavy.
"I suppose you want it sucked," she grinned.
"That would help convince me we're gonna be friends."
So he was going to stick with his original story. Well, let him. She was hiding a few motivations of her own.
Sharon turned her head and took Holt's prick into a firm grip. She drew him forward. Ass on heels, body at an angle, Sharon bowed a little lower. Her mouth opened and her tongue wriggled out. She lifted his burgeoning prick-meat and used his balls to draw his hips forward, feeding him fully into her mouth.
Really, what better way was there to spend a Saturday morning than with a hunky, musk-scented, well cared-for stud? 'So I'm shameless,' she thought. 'So what?"
Cuddling Holt's balls in the hand she wasn't leaning on, she eased him ahead and back, having him slide his growing prick in and out of her mouth. Her sucking caresses travelled from his base to his glans-ridge, each sensuous slide drawing a little more steel into his organ.
She gave it to him for minutes on end, drawing him to full erectness and holding him there. There was a contentment in her that she could not find anywhere else. In a way she had been born for carnal endeavors, and that was that.
"Mmmmmm," she said, sliding her mouth off of it and pausing to take a look at the red-shaded, glistening, up-angled member. "This is quite a cock you have here."
"It hasn't had any complaints either."
"You're just perfect, aren't you?"
"In my own way." He hooked fingers under the thin shoulder straps of her teddy and drew her upright on her knees. He drew the straps aside and peeled the snug, lacy covering from her chest. Her breasts seemed to arch out at him in erotic offering. "You're pretty fine yourself."
She wriggled her shoulders and made her tits bob for him. So she was starting to have fun. So what?
He peeled her undergarment farther down, pushing it from her hips and backside. Sharon dropped back onto her ass, swung her legs forward and lay down on her back. She lifted her legs straight into the air in front of him, and he slowly drew the teddy up their tapered lengths and off.
Her legs folded, remaining upright near the edge of the rumpled bed. He touched her kneecaps with his light fingers. Teasingly she pulled them away from his touch, drawing her folded shanks over her prone body.
Holt fit his hand between her ankles and slid up between her calves. She yielded to his and her mutual wishes and spread her legs. When he lowered onto his knees beside the bed, she unfolded her legs and held them in a wide vee before him. Now it was her pussy in erotic offering. She gave it a slow rotation as a kind of finishing touch.
Her new lover crouched toward the floor, upper body over the bed, his face going to her crotch, his mouth going to her flaunted pussy. He started licking from bottom to top with an unexpected gentleness and affection.
She was lucky, she supposed. He wasn't looking for a whore or someone to use so basely. For whatever reason he wanted her to have pleasure, too. A strange breed of cat, he was. What was she going to do with him? What could she do with him?
"That's nice," she cooed softly. "Real nice."
"No complaints, remember?"
"Cocky, aren't you."
He chuckled agreeingly and started to kiss at the wet folds of her open snatch. His firm lips sent warm pulses through her system, gently rousing excitement and anticipation and an ever-deeper need for more. This was the age-old process that a woman never seemed to get tired of.
He took a breather next, lifting a fingertip to the slickness of her inner pussy lips. He teased it up and down the gash and around and over her stiffened clit.
"Mmmmmmm," Sharon moaned. She hunched her up-turned ass to try to catch his pressing finger inside her entrance. She failed, but he caught on and provided what she wanted, sending his finger into her wet lining with a slow, twirling motion.
When his mouth next touched her pussy it was to toy with her sweetly inflamed love button. His tongue tip fluttered over the exposed nub with a quickness that sent a breathtaking rush through her.
"Oh, you are good," she said in a low, gritty voice. "You are damn good." It was probably what he was dying to hear but she didn't care. It was true.
He had more for her. He paired his stroking forefinger with his middle finger and proceeded to use both on the engorged lips of her pussy, and inside. Deep inside, with sure, swift, knowing strokes.
It was a patient, wily sort of build-up and it was getting to Sharon in a big way. Or a horny way. Her temperature had risen more than a mere notch or two, and down below she was really getting wet. Her pussy was a sopping, sucking hole of wanting flesh.
"What kind of shape is your cock in?" she asked with a leering expression. "Same as you left it."
"You're gonna let me have it, aren't you?"
"I suppose."
"You're gonna let me have it soon, I mean?"
He chuckled softly, his ego no doubt stroked. "Okay. It is getting a little itchy for action. Especially with this sweet"-he kissed her clit-"sweet"-kiss-"pussy you've got."
He seemed out of breath and maybe out of spittle too.
"Always nice to be appreciated."
Holt moved up over her on all fours, hooking an arm underneath her and sliding her over so that he could extend his legs. Sharon crossed her ankles at the small of his back and tilted her pelvis to lift out her famished pussy.
Holt's engorged glans burned the moistened softness of her outer twat. Sharon chilled hotly as he pressed in, spreading her out, filling her up with pulsing dick.
It was a slow penetration. Often he stopped to retreat to her entrance, then surge forward as if making a run for her inner depths. But he never went much farther than he had already. Sharon writhed impatiently under him.
"You're such a tease," she whined helplessly.
"The more you want it the more you appreciate it," he said with a smile.
"I'll remember that. Now fuck me!"
He inched deeper, finally giving her the full length of his rigid shaft. Knowing she had it all at last made her toes curl and her thighs shudder as she hugged herself to him.
"Fuck me," she breathed. "Fuck me like I know you want to."
"You are the horny one, aren't you," he murmured.
"Don't think you had anything to do with it."
"No," he said indulgently. "Of course not."
Bastard. He was on an ego trip. But he wasn't blatant about it, or rude in his superiority. It was more like something he wanted to keep to himself. As he should.
Sharon was glad she had seen through him. It had revealed at least one negative thing about his character. Coupled with the others, it should help her keep some perspective about him, and restrain her from doing something really foolish-like getting stuck on the guy or something!
His mouth closed on hers with a soulful kiss and his hips went into the smooth, familiar motions of easy fucking. Sharon slid her hands down to his buttocks and she held them as they flexed to drive his cock forward. She gave herself over to the pleasures of the moment, no holding back.
"Good," she breathed against his ear. "Good."
"You're so tight, so hot...."
"Have a nice ride. I am."
From out of nowhere her conscience lifted its disapproving head. Was she going too far? Enjoying it too much?
He hadn't really forced her into bed with him. Lured was more like it. And though he was in fact a blackmailer, that part of him had mostly been left outside the bedroom door. He was blackmailing her for information, not sex. The two things were separate.
At least they were for Sharon. Holt was harder to figure, though she had a few ideas about him. He was egotistical, not mean-spirited. That counted for something.
Fuck it. The last laugh would be on him, and that was all that counted. She was worrying about the wrong thing. She should be concerned with finding a way to get the upper hand over him, not whether or not it was right for her to be enjoying herself. That didn't matter in the long run. Probably not even in the short run either.
"Hey baby," she asked, "how 'bout a fresh angle?"
"Now you're cookin'" he grinned.
"Let me turn over."
He pulled from her and pushed back to sit on his heels. Sharon swung a leg over and bounced up onto her elbows and knees in front of him. She leaned forward and then shifted back, stretching herself out sinuously and provocatively and enticingly.
"Come on, lover," she said glintingly, looking back over a shoulder, "come to pussy."
Holt erected himself on his knees, shaking his head as he smiled at her. "Homy, and wicked too, and with a body like that. Too much."
"More than you bargained for?"
"Plenty, but I like it."
"I think I got a pretty good deal myself. Now gimme."
Holt wedged the flared end of his cock into Sharon's drippy entrance. As he shoved with his hips she drove herself back. She was lanced with prick, with a jolt that thrilled her to the core.
She groaned out loud. He pressed forward and she pushed back, grinding herself shamelessly against him. It was good, and getting better all the time. Free from worry, she was running with it.
Holt put his hands on her hips and pushed her forward as he retreated. Letting go, she seemed to snap back up against his hips.
"I love it," she enthused. "I love your cock. I love what you do to me."
"Honey, I believe you mean it," he said with a certain pleasure.
Sharon rocked her twisting, writhing body to and fro, her pussy and her libido feeding off his cock with an insatiable hunger. If he was using her for his own gain, no problem, because she was using him at the same time. It was an even trade. There were no hard feelings. Only hot ones.
Holt drove his length into her, seeming to reach deeper parts of her anatomy with every rich, sensational slide. His motives may have been selfish, but the fucking was just great. Enjoy it? She would have been crazy not to.
They were down to the nitty-gritty now and Sharon was really into it. Braced on elbows and knees, she wriggled and shook her ass as her libido ran wild. She gobbled up every sensation with a lurid greed.
The cooing, gasping tones of her voice lifted into cries of outright ecstasy as her climax broke free of her innermost depths. Completion rushed through her system in searing waves that threatened to knock the wind out of her.
God. Every Saturday should offer her something like this!
CHAPTER SIX
Rachel had been to the place where Rusty was house-sitting. He'd given her the royal tour one afternoon, during which time they had made out a little bit in every room. It had been great fun. In some way she would be sorry to give him up.
She had told Rusty that morning that she wanted to see him about something "important." He was there waiting for her. He took her into the living room. He sat on a couch, on the edge of his seat, as she paced slowly in front of him, still worrying over how she was going to put it to him.
"You're pregnant," he guessed.
She laughed out of nervous tension. "No, curie, nothing like that."
"Well it's something serious," he could tell.
"Not serious," she said. "Just ... unhappy." She faced him. "We have to stop seeing each other."
"Why?"
"Remember that man I told you about? Gil Tatum? Well, he called me the other day, right out of the blue, and we've seen each other...."
Rusty sat back in the couch. "I'm out and he's in, is that it?" he said coolly.
"Don't put it like that," she implored softly.
"I should let you off the hook easy, you mean."
Rachel sat down next to him. "I knew you'd be hurt," she said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."
"It didn't slow you down any in dumping me."
"I've got to make a clean break. Not just with you. I'm going to ask Gene for a divorce."
"Already?" he said, obviously surprised. Which was natural enough, luckily. Otherwise he would have had some quick explaining to do.
"All Gil and I have right now is potential, but I want to be free to pursue it. The marriage is over anyway. There hasn't been hardly any reason for it since my father died. We're just going through the motions, Gene and I."
"Yeah, well, just remember who you're passing off as second best. I sure will."
"I can't blame you for feeling this way," she said then. "I wish I could kiss it and make it better."
He sat silent, looking down at his hands, hopes dashed, pride wounded.
She touched his near leg consolingly. "Rusty, it would mean a lot to me, and I think it would to you too, if we could part friends. Don't you?"
"You mean shake hands and go to neutral comers?"
"Well, not quite that formal," she said warmly. He looked at her searchingly for a moment, then said, "What was that you said about kissing it and making it better?"
She smiled. "Where does it hurt?"
"All over."
Rachel laughed softly. "I think you're feeling better already, you naughty boy."
He relinquished a small, guilty smile of his own. "I guess there's something about you that makes it impossible for me to stay mad at you."
"And what's that?"
"Oh, more like a combination of things."
Rachel laughed softly, able to breathe a lot easier now and enjoying Rusty for the fun young man he really was. Fun, and warm and clean and sexy and sweet, and man enough to count.
Rachel leaned in next to Rusty with her hand staying on his thigh. She lifted her other hand to his face and lightly held it against his cheek as she kissed him on the lips.
"There are things about you I'm going to miss," she confided.
"What things?" he asked flirtingly.
"The way you are, the way you touch me, the effect you have on me sometimes. It's hard to explain. It's also hard for me to think right now, too."
"Yeah? Then what's Gil got that I don't?"
"That's hard to explain too. Especially now. But my mind is made up. I'm doing the right thing."
"Get undressed," he said to her.
"You're not going to try to get me to change my mind, are you?" she asked.
"Would you like that?"
"I might appreciate the effort," she allowed, "but I mean it, Rusty, for better and for worse, we're through."
"Not just yet," he pointed out. "Get your clothes off."
"Whatever makes it easier for you," Rachel answered as she got to her feet.
She stepped out of her shoes and with Rusty watching her she continued to undress. She dropped skirt, blouse, bra and finally whisked off her white bikini panties. She liked having his eyes on her, liked having the sight of her make his juices bubble and boil. And she liked being naked in the presence of a virile, desiring young man. It was a joint kick to her ego and her libido at once.
His eyes went from her husky tits to her softly furred crotch, down her long, shapely legs and back to those gorgeous tits. He came forward on the couch, sitting up straight and tall, his hands going to her smooth, flared hips. He pulled her to him.
Rusty buried his face between the incredibly smooth globes of Rachel's breasts, kissing the narrow space between them. He moved up and then down in the bottom of the deep cleft, his cheeks rubbing against the plush inner curves.
He took her left nipple and sucked it into his mouth with a hungering urgency. He bit on the firm, thick tip and pulled away, stretching the nipple out erotically before its own natural limits pulled it from Rusty's mouth with a wet, squeaky sound. The tit mass jiggled into stillness, looking almost angry in its aroused state.
Rusty kissed his way over to the other nipple and gave it a hot, lewd suck. Then he was biting into the packed fleshiness of Rachel's breasts, gorging himself on their intoxicating fullness.
Rachel ran her fingers through his hair with genuine affection, giving him his lead. She was letting him have his fill of her. And why not? It would have to last him quite a while.
She hoped he wouldn't forget the realities of the situation and try to get her to continue their affair. She had no intention of doing that. Not with Gil waiting in the wings. It would only do more harm than good, and have things end on a more negative note than they should.
Rusty turned in his seat, moving Rachel with him in his strong hands and arms. Her knees came onto the seat first, then she dropped down onto her ass and leaned back into a comer of the couch. Rusty leaned over her, continuing to burrow in between and mouthe her sumptuous breasts. She loosely wrapped her long legs around his body.
"I thought I was gonna kiss things and make them better," she remarked jokingly.
"I'm trying my own therapy," he answered between her tits. He was licking up between them now with the thick part of his tongue.
She relaxed and enjoyed it. Whatever made it easier for him. She owed him that much. At least. He had been quite the breath of fresh air in her life when she had really needed it. She just couldn't break it off coldly and cruelly with him.
Rusty pushed himself from her almost suddenly and lifted off his pullover. He got out of the rest of his clothes swiftly and cleanly, and slid to his knees on the carpeted floor.
He leaned back in between Rachel's legs, kissed her almost sore breasts with a touching tenderness, and started to lick and kiss his way down the front of her body.
Rachel squirmed as she felt a knot of anticipation form inside her. She hooked one heel up on the back of the couch and lowered her other foot to the floor, spreading herself shamelessly for Rusty. She had learned what he could do down there and the effect he had on her. Her pussy was starting to ache with want. She felt her liquid center start to melt.
Rusty dipped his tongue out and trailed the tip over her lowered thigh. Ducking down, he licked a long, slow line along the smoother, inner portion of the thigh, honing in on her pussy.
Coming to Rachel's crotch, he started working his tongue tip up and down, and he brushed across the ridges and lines of her puckered cunt. His hands went to the backs of her thighs, spreading her even wider and pushing her knees higher and farther back.
"Hey," Rachel breathed softly. "I like your therapy."
Looking down, Rachel saw Rusty bury the tip of his nose in her pubic bush. His eyes were shut tight, but she could picture the dreamy expression filling his eyes as he at last spread his lips on her snatch.
He licked up over her swollen folds until she lost count of the number of times he did it. Her hips pushed her pussy up at him, her pelvis tilting forward to press her clit zone onto the sliding firmness of his tongue.
Rusty began to concentrate the motions of his tongue on the upper part of Rachel's cunt. He licked her clit and swept from side to side. Then, digging in, he found her stiff bud with the tip of his tongue, and he started rolling it around in its fleshy nest, on its fleshy base.
Rachel's hands went to the backs of her legs and came to rest on the backs of Rusty's hands. She held her legs that way as she rolled and twisted her hips under Rusty, grinding her increasingly aroused pussy at his mouth.
She gasped as a surge of arousal momentarily cut off her breath. Her thighs jerked against both their pairs of hands, wanting to close in on this source of terrific stimulation and trap it forever.
To make things worse, or better, depending on your point of view, Rusty then slid his tongue down the line of her sex slit and plunged it into the tingly sponginess below her clit.
"Aaaahhhhhh," Rachel groaned in delight, her voice trailing off in a velvety, laughing sound. She shook her head and wiggled her body and cooed in further pleasure as he continued stabbing into her feverish fuck-hole with his wicked tongue.
Rusty stuck his tongue into the mouth of Rachel's sex and twisted it all the way around against the padded membranes of her tunnel. They cried lotions of joy onto his probe and burned hotter with uncontainable excitement.
Rusty pulled his tongue from her and moved his mouth back to her clit. He sucked down on it diligently, stabbing at the cap with his tongue, pulsing stimulation through Rachel's nether region.
Her ass bobbed upward against Rusty's chin, her hand-held legs kicked at the air, her body twisted and writhed. Rachel gasped and groaned in a strained voice as her climax promised to tear loose inside her at any moment.
Then, suddenly, "No, no, stop, stop," she said in near breathless protest. She grabbed a hank of his hair and pushed his head back, his mouth away from her heated cunt. "I want you to cum with me. The two of us, together, one last time."
"Okay," he said readily, showing an indulgent smile. He let her legs down and moved up to sit in the couch as Rachel slid herself off of it. His eyes followed her as if in a trance as on her knees she moved in beside his legs.
Rachel slid an open hand up between Rusty's thighs, over his balls. Then she wrapped it around his massive hard-on. She stood it up off his belly and ogled it with an affectionate leer.
She lifted her outside knee and planted her foot on the carpet to better balance herself as she bowed forward at the hips and parted her thighs. She placed her other hand down between them and started rubbing at her swollen cunt with slender fingers, keeping her fires stoked for the exact moment when Rusty was ready.
Her mouth was open as she bowed down. Her lips brushed past his cockhead and way down the shaft. She had to move her hand out of the way to take all of the manmeat that she wanted!
Rachel wove her head back and forth to brush against his sensitive rod with her mouth. She continued like that as she lifted her head, applying sweet suction to his hardening, swollen dick.
"Mmmmmmmm," she moaned, feeling his hard-on throb even more, seeming to chase her lips up to his cock-tip. She loved the smooth rigidity and pulsing masculinity of a prick in her mouth, where she could savor it in a way much different from what her pussy allowed. She also loved being turned on to the depths that she was!
Feeling sex-crazed and reveling in it, Rachel smoothed and sucked overthe fat length of Rusty's cock. She leaned slightly to one side so she could look up and get Rusty's reactions as she ran her wanton mouth up and down his organ.
It flattered and delighted her to see the look of pure pleasure on his face. In a lot of ways she felt like a total woman, being there with Rusty, giving pleasure and thrills with effortless ease, dazzling a young man and knowing he would do anything for her. Even if that meant leaving her-at her request. What a rich kick. And she wasn't being shy about enjoying herself either. The feelings of completeness went a long way around.
With only Gene as an alternative it had been and would have been plenty. But with Gil, well, she could better see it for what it was. An adventure, an amusement, a diversion, that kind of thing. Fun, but not reaching the deeper levels of fulfillment and enrichment that could be found in a "meaningful" relationship.
Still, it had its rewards. Immediate and shortlived, but rewards nevertheless. They could be intense too, and that was what they both were looking for.
Rachel kept sucking, sometimes slow and teasing, sometimes pumping fast and lewdly. At the same time she sawed knowing fingers over her clit. It felt like she was on fire down there. Her swollen nipples ached. Hunger gnawed at her insides, feelings of total fulfillment somehow staying just out of reach.
Finally Rachel had to take her mouth from Rusty's prick and climb up astride of him on the couch and tuck his prick into the mouth of her tunnel. Relishing every sexily grating inch, she let herself down around his throbbing shaft.
She wedged his fantastic length all the way inside her and held it there in the tight, soft kiss of her cunt tunnel. He squirmed under her, his hips straining upward against her spread ass. His hands came to her jutting tits and squeezed. She pushed herself at his groping hands, writhing around on his cock.
Rachel rocked forward and back, rubbing her clit over his crotch area. With a cock up inside her, this was much better than finger play.
The first thrust of his prick and had felt so stimulating. Now she went back for more. Easing up to the broadly flared tip of his cock, she slithered down with a smooth, exact motion. Thrills made her back arch and her body shiver. 'More,' she kept thinking, 'more!'
At first Rusty held still, letting her move however she pleased on his dick and soaking up the pleasures of her stroking, rubbing sheath. His hands roved her shapely body as if trying to memorize every detail. Who knew? Maybe he was doing just that!
Presently, as her smooth fucking stirred deeper passions inside Rusty, he started to rock his hips and send his rigid fuck-tool up to meet her sensuous down-slides. Yanking away when she lifted, he stroked harder and harder up into her fevered body.
Gripping his shoulders, head and wild mane tossing back, Rachel was soon bouncing out of control on Rusty's pecker. She was going too fast for him to keep up, and increasing her pace all the time. Rusty appeared to collapse in surrender, watching with dazed eyes as this wild woman pumped them both to a fantastic climax.
They came together and drenched each other with their frothy cum juice. Shivering and shaking, they collapsed together, falling to one side, entwining in a limp heap on the couch. Then they were moaning and sighing, groaning and cooing in the aftermath.
"It's not fair, you know," he said drowsily. "You've got somebody to take care of you. What about me?"
"I'm not worried about you," Rachel answered. "You'll find somebody."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next time Sharon spoke with Rusty, he insisted on seeing her. When he said he had good news, she relented. She gave him her address.
"And by the way," she added, "my real name is Sharon."
"Sharon, huh?" he said when she opened her apartment door to him that night. He ambled in, giving the place a quick once-over. "This really where you live?"
"This is it," she said, closing the door.
"How come you're trusting me all of a sudden?
"You'd find out who I was eventually anyway, once I strolled into the sunset with Gene. And I have a feeling things are moving right along in that area."
"You're right. Rachel's decided on a divorce."
"That is moving right along," she remarked. "She's given me my walking papers too," he added.
"You seem kind of glum about that. I didn't know you were hitting it off so well."
"I was having a nice time," Rusty said.
"You didn't kick up a fuss, did you?"
"Not too much of one. But it's got me to wondering what's going to happen to me now."
"Well Rusty, I don't know," Sharon answered, crossing her arms. "I don't have anything more to ask of you. And I don't think it would be wise for us to see each other again."
"That's what I thought you'd say."
"Disappointed?"
"Some."
"I'm flattered. I'm also sorry." Sharon had a feeling she was walking a fine line with Rusty. She wasn't sure what he wanted, or how far he would go to get it. The last thing she needed right now was another blackmailer.
"I've done a lot for you," he said quietly.
"Yes," she allowed, waiting for him to come to the point of this get-together. She was afraid to ask.
"I'm not sure I've been properly rewarded for it."
"Oh?"
"I went out on quite a limb for you. I'm winding up giving Rachel what she wanted, indirectly. And I'm giving you what you wanted, more directly. What am I left with?"
"I see your point," she conceded amicably. "What would you like to be left with?"
"You."
"That's asking for a lot, Rusty."
"You're getting a lot. Or you will be, soon."
Yes. There was that. It wasn't official yet, but Gene was free, there for the taking. Too bad there hadn't been time to savor the moment, or even let it sink in. With Brian Holt to worry about, and now Rusty making demands of his own, she was rather preoccupied.
Sharon drew a steadying breath, hoping the cards she was about to play were the right ones. "I meant what I said about us not seeing each other again," she said easily. "After tonight, that is."
That last part seemed to perk him up a little, she noticed. Was he willing to settle for a bit less than he had asked for?
She eased toward him, arms dropping to her sides. "You can't have me," she said, "but I can give you a memory of me that'll keep you satisfied for a nice long while."
"What then?"
"By then your attention will have shifted to some other woman. Some other lucky woman, that is."
"Yeah?" he said, like one who wanted to believe it.
"Sure," she said, letting her hands go to his waist. "But right now you have more important things to focus on."
"Like what?"
Sharon gave him a lingering, sly look. Briskly she opened the blouse she had worn to work that day and took it off. Her skirt was next, followed by the white, boldly cut teddy she had been wearing underneath. For the fun of it she left her shoes on.
She knelt in front of Rusty, her hands going to his jeans. She opened them and dug his hardening cock out of his briefs. She held the swollen shaft in light fingers and started kissing it all over.
Rusty had given her a moment or two of uncertainty there, but she now knew she should have thought better of him. He wasn't the blackmailer type. Probably didn 't have a mean bone in his body. All he wanted was a good time. Which made him easy to deal with, and a pleasure.
Sharon didn't mind obliging him. She felt she owed him at least this much for all he had done. And the pleasure wouldn't be all his. Not if she had the chance to show her stuff, and maybe even get her rocks off at the same time. Besides, things had been tense lately. She needed to let off some steam.
Sharon slipped the tip of her tongue out of her mouth and started brushing along the flanks of Rusty's cock with it. His organ swelled further and hardened into a rigid erection. Rubbing under the base with her tongue, she held her cheek against the thick shaft, and the contact made for a burning feeling.
Head twisted to one side, Sharon wiped her tongue out along the underside of Rusty's cock to the tip. Maintaining contact, she turned to face in the opposite direction and slid her cock back to his base. Going to his glans once more, she brushed puckered lips up the side of his shaft.
At last she slipped her mouth onto the pulsating rod. Her warm, velvet lips stretched out around his thickness. She leaned forward to take him deep into her mouth. She wanted it all and, squeezing him into her throat, she took it all. Her tongue dipped out and rubbed sexily against the underside of the base of his cock.
A groan escaped Rusty. He was helpless in her grasp. The only thought he felt capable of was that he should be naked with her. With clumsy-seeming hands he started to unbutton his shirt.
Sharon pulled back on Rusty's erection with sweet suction and swooned down on him. Unhurriedly but not lazily, she continued to stroke over his heated cock-meat with her open, clinging mouth.
She wanted him naked too. She let her hands fall from his thighs and she helped him off with his shoes and socks, continuing to rock to and fro from the waist up, her twisting mouth working without hand support. Appearing all the more stimulating because of it, Sharon pulled down Rusty's jeans. He stepped out of them and her hands slid up his bare, strongly built legs.
His briefs remained. To take them off she was going to have to release his mouth-filling prick. It was a sacrifice that had to be made.
Sharon pulled from him with a juicy popping sound. She grabbed the elastic of his briefs in both hands and stretched it way out so she could pull down without touching that precious cock. It was the sole property of her mourn.
Rusty's hard-on wagged when she held his briefs for him to step out of them. Her eyes glittered as she watched it. She thought he had a dazzling cock. Obviously he was no slouch in the dick department. She suspected there might be days ahead when she would miss his clean-cut, run-loving vitality.
He brought out the bitch in her, somehow, and she went at him with a renewed vigor. She virtually inhaled his cock and ran her mouth up and down on it with total abandon.
Her hands crept off his hard thighs onto the balled muscle shapes of his asscheeks. Her fingertips probed deeper into the cleft, pulling at and squeezing his high, tight butt.
Rusty was having a tough time holding still. His hips swayed sideways and forwards and backwards. His feet kept shifting. He shook his shoulders and arms. He had too much energy stirring inside him and didn't have enough of an outlet for it.
Sharon had him chomping at the bit and knew it. But she followed a wicked urge and kept him under her own rein. Moving her fingers in the hot crack of his ass, she found his small, tight hole with the tip of a forefinger and started following the ring of his ass around and around.
At the same time she pulled out on his pecker with her teeth grating over the top of the fantastically hard rod. She lifted her broad tongue and shaped it to his underside, then ran it forward. When his cockhead became crammed in her throat she kept her tongue moving forward, sticking it out and curving it down to touch enticingly at the tops of his drawn-up balls.
He inhaled sharply in response, his whole body going taut, lifting slightly onto tiptoes. Just in the nick of time Sharon pinched hard into each asscheek, not enough to hurt but enough to take the high edge off of his surging excitement.
"Oooohhh," Rusty moaned with mixed emotions as he felt his climax retreat from the brink. "Oh you teasing bitch, you," he said after a hard swallow. But he was smiling when he said it.
Sharon eased her sucking mouth slowly up and off of his swollen prod and let her hands slip from his relaxing asscheeks. She looked up and him with a smile of her own, and slowly turned around to position herself on hands and knees before him, facing away. She spoke to him over a shoulder, her expression salacious and inviting.
"Take me this way. Right now. Right here on the floor."
"Are you ready for me?"
"Try me," she urged.
Rusty hesitated no further before dropping to his knees behind Sharon, between her flung out lower legs. He reached out a hand to the juncture of her thighs, cupping the damp, heated folds on his palm, her wire-furred mound on his fingers.
Sharon bowed lower, onto her elbows, then lower still, sinking the weight of her upper body onto her shoulders and one side of her face. She reached back between her upright thighs with one hand, slipping her fingers under Rusty's stroking digits.
Two fingers on each side of her pussy, she drew herself open. She half-expected Rusty to feed her his prick right away, but he was still testing. Or was it teasing?
Her slick cunt lips coated his fingertips with her drooling lubrication as he probed her slit. He delved into her chute with his forefinger and stroked deep. Holding at the hilt, he twisted his finger in a dialing motion, very slow and very stretchy.
Now it was Sharon's turn to moan uncontrollably, and she knew he wasn't going to let her off, or get her off, any easier than she had him.
"Bastard," she groaned affectionately.
"All I have are these memories," he joked, and she laughed, then groaned as he pulled his finger out and pushed two in.
Sharon drew her hand away from her pussy, sliding it to her dangling tits. She cuddled and squeezed them, surrendering to Rusty and her own urges and just everything.
Rusty rammed in and out of her hot twat with twisting, turning fingers, provoking her hunger and stroking her passion. He moved her from wanting his cock to craving it to aching for it. She might cum like this but it just wouldn't be the same. She groaned her release.
Sharon wriggled her raised backside to the left and to the right, unable to hold herself still and hoping to provoke something more generous in him-like an anal fuck!
It must have worked, because soon after he moved both hands to her hips and held her still. She sensed him moving in close behind her. She planted hands and out-flung elbows on the carpet and braced herself.
Rusty's hot cockhead bit in between her parted, swollen anal opening. He was sudden, swift and sure. Her moistness and heat and tautness grabbed at his cock with magnetic force and seemed to draw him in.
Sharon felt her rectum yawn open around his sliding hardness. She felt the pounding heat stretch her out and fill her up to the brim. Her tender inner tissues quaked with happiness and ran wet with joy. She fairly simmered around his embedded dick.
"Oh Gawd," she moaned in pure enjoyment, feeling his hips flatten the globes of her ass. "Fuck my asshole and don't stop!"
Rusty pulled out and stroked in like a bolt of lightning, rocking her body when he collided with her padded asscheeks and making her system shiver against a surge of excitement. "Like that?" he teased.
"Mmmmmmm, for starters," she answered, getting in a trifle more teasing of her own.
Rusty cured her of that impulse in a hurry. He pulled his pecker out and jabbed it in deeper still in quick succession, slapping her ass with his hips and heating up her insides with the sharp impact of his cockhead.
"Oooohhhh," Sharon groaned in a throaty voice, her eyes closing and her mind going dizzy. Suddenly she was taking this fuck a lot more seriously. "Bang my bunghole," she crooned shamelessly, "do it again!"
He was taking it more seriously now too, because he did do it again for her. Then he drew his cock out with a sweet slowness, scraping deep into her pliant, pressing anal walls with his broad cock-ridge.
The lewd friction sent a blast of heat through Sharon. She felt her anus close in on itself behind his retreating cock and tingle with anticipation of its return, and the lewd stretching out it was going to get. Sharon could hardly wait!
She rocked back when Rusty started his inward thrust, grabbing his sexy length into her deep chute. She wiggled her butt against him, grinding him deep and turning him on even more.
The tempo of their ass-fucking increased gradually. The time to anticipate pleasures gave way to steady enjoyment as their bodies drew apart and rushed together again and again and again.
Sharon pushed herself up onto straight arms and on all fours hunched back at Rusty's speeding demon. She felt the bases of her tits slip and slide about on her chest as the tits themselves swayed and swung lewdly above the floor. It gave her a wonderful feeling of letting it all go, of being free and wild and in her most natural state. Was she some kind of maniac who some times felt like a normal woman or a normal woman who sometimes felt like some kind of maniac? She would never know.
She knew where she belonged, though, and this was one place. Definitely. Maybe even her favorite place. Right now it was, at least.
Sharon gasped with pleasure as she thrust and parried and worked her over-excited body. "Do it to me. Keep doing it to me. I can't believe how much I want it. Yes ... even there!"
But he slowed. "Lie down on your back. Turn over and spread for me," he said to her. "Wide."
Anything to have his cock in her. Now it would be digging deep and hard into her pussy. But she didn't give him quite what he asked for. Not at first.
Pulling from his cock, she twisted to one side and dropped onto her hip. She swung her upper leg up and back over herself, giving him a pussy-target that was on its side.
Rusty unhesitatingly straddled her down leg and fell forward onto straight arms, catching Sharon and her raised leg under him. His hips came down and his wet hard-on threaded into her pussy sheath as easy as that.
While his hips worked up and down, Sharon rocked her pelvis and ground her hips to and fro. His stroking cock went around and around inside her, seeming to twist her tunnel and wring further pleasures from its juicy walls. At the same time her motions worked Rusty's cock around on its base while the rod itself took friction from two directions. He was fairly panting with arousal over her.
Breathless from the exertions of her mid-section, Sharon lay down fully on her side and rolled onto her back. Rusty let her pull her leg out from between his, and she threw it up to catch on his shoulder like the other one.
His hips slammed down hard on her upturned ass, his cock pistoned hotly in and out of her juicing pussy. He was out of control now, sweeping her along in his slipstream until her own passion reached its full-blown power and she started to race ahead of him.
Foamy sensations crashed around their ears, promising to drown them both in their surging, roiling ecstasies. They both knew this was a time and place they would each remember for a good long while to come.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A week after Sharon had made her feelings known to Gene he came trudging into the office looking like his dog had just died. It was already close to noon and she hadn't heard from him all morning. Obviously something was wrong.
"No calls," he said, walking past Sharon's desk.
"You look like you could use a friend," she said as he reached his door.
He paused, considering it. Then he said, "I guess you should at least know what happened."
Sharon followed him into his office and closed the door. She was fighting her worst fears as she watched him go around his desk and drop into his chair. She sat on the edge of her seat, waiting.
"I spent last night in the guest room," he started. "I just checked into a hotel. Rachel wants a divorce."
'He's taking it too hard,' Sharon thought. 'He's lost everything.' But he continued. "She wants me to stay on here, same as before, but the marriage is totaled."
She still couldn't figure it out. Had he actually loved Rachel? Did he still? Could she have so misinterpreted the signs?
"I've spent all morning trying to convince her we could work it out, but no go. She says she met someone...."
"Who?"
"Someone she knew before me. Someone she should have married in the first place, she said."
"Oh, Gene," Sharon said sympathetically.
He rolled a shoulder. "Maybe she's right. God knows I could have been a better husband. She's a wonderful woman. I just never found it in myself to appreciate her."
"And now it's too late," Sharon surmised.
"Too late."
So that was it. He wasn't mourning what he'd lost. He was mourning what he could have had but didn't take. And that it had led to the failure of his marriage. Gene didn't live easily with failure, to put it mildly.
"You've still got the company," Sharon pointed out.
"I used to think it was important. Now I'm not so sure."
"And you've got a second chance," she added. "How so?"
"I'd marry you in a second," she told him. Then, in a lighter tone, "Think you could appreciate me?"
He showed faint amusement. "You mean get it right this time?"
She smiled, hoping it would lift his spirits. And it did appear to.
"I don't know," he said then. "It might not be wise for me to rush into something like that. I might be getting married just to prove something, and that's no good."
"Okay," she said to that. "I'll marry you in a couple of months, after you've thought it over." And after I've shown you a few things, she might have added.
Gene chortled. "Okay. I'll think it over."
"Feel better?" she asked.
"Yes, I do."
She stood, much calmer and more assured than when she had sat down. "Any time you want your chin tickled, let me know."
"Okay."
"Now let's get to work. I've got a ton of messages for you!"
Gene coming in late, and with there being lots to do, meant that they did not leave until later than usual. He suggested they get something to eat, and she wasn't about to turn down an offer like that.
They shunted shop talk aside as they enjoyed a seafood dinner. It pleased Sharon to no end when he remarked on how they spent so much time together but he knew so little about her. It was a clear invitation and she filled him in as entertainingly as she could.
Only child, small town up-bringing, paying her way through school with an odd variety of jobs, some travel, more jobs, then lucking into a great one with a super-attractive boss.
Gene gazed at her with a musing expression and murmured, "You mean it, don't you. How you feel about me, everything."
"Yes."
"I can't make you any promises, Sharon."
"Maybe not now. Let me work on you a little."
He smiled, enjoying her candor, and her spunk, and just plain her. "I've never been wooed before," he said. "It might be interesting."
"It might also get you caught."
"Alright, I consider myself warned. But I warn you, no promises."
And that was how the next phase of Sharon's master plan began.
It went no further that night, or the next, or the night after that. There was no rush. In fact, delays could only work in her favor. She had been pursued often enough to know how to pursue.
"How're you doing?" she asked at the close of a slow day. "Tired of hotel cooking yet?"
"Maybe a little."
"How 'bout some home cooking? I do a steak that'll make you walk on air."
"Sold," he said.
Sharon didn't make a big production out of the dinner. No low-cut gown, no candle-lit wining and dining scene. She kept it mostly casual and friendly. It was called going against expectations.
She hoped it would get him thinking that nothing was going to happen tonight. Once he did, she would spring another surprise on him. The more confusion there was the greater the vulnerability.
Except for Brian Holt it would have been a perfect world for her. He was there, at the back of her mind but never shut out of her thoughts completely. He'd had his fun and any day now would be contacting her, demanding results.
But things weren't as bad as they might have been. She had formed a few ideas on how to handle him.
Like a true gentleman, Gene helped Sharon clear the table after dinner. He even offered to help wash, but she said they could wait. She was a little surprised by how much of a regular guy he was. Though it delighted her it also made her wonder what else she didn't know about him. She knew much of his history but that wasn't the whole story. What was he like away from the office?
She put on one of her jazz albums and they sat on the couch listening to it while sipping away at a bottle of white wine he had brought.
She had worried a little that she had fallen for an image she had of him, but that was past now. She couldn't imagine feeling more comfortable with someone. Some sixth sense had told her he was the one at the very beginning and that was still holding true.
Sharon kissed him, just when he wasn't expecting it. He had slid down in a corner of the couch with his head back on a cushion. She was seated with her legs tucked in with her on the seat. She simply leaned over and pressed her mouth to his.
She held it there, her head moving slightly as she sensuously worked her mouth against his. It was a giving kiss, not really seeking a response.
Gene yielded but did not reciprocate right away. He seemed content for the moment to let her get it out of her system, and to enjoy it.
"You're a strange one," he remarked quietly, gazing up into her warmly glistening eyes. "First you tell me you're crazy about me, and you let me know I'm in for a seduction. Then you ignore me, then you invite me to dinner and treat me like your big brother and now this. Pretty soon I won't know what I'm doing, where I'm at or what I want!"
"I told you, you might get caught," she said, and kissed him again, briefly this time.
"I believe you. I don't think you believed what I said though, about promises."
"Of course not. I had faith in myself. Still do. More than ever."
"Are you planning on taking me to bed tonight?"
"That would be telling."
"I'm warning you again. Don't count on anything going your way."
She kissed him again. Easing off, she eased the tip of her tongue between his lips, from side to side, up against the top one, in against his teeth as she pressed in with her lips.
What he didn't seem to realize was that everything had already gone her way. He was here, and her magic was working on him, and it would go on working. He may not have trusted himself to still want her two or three months from now, but she did. She would see to it personally.
"Let's talk about things going your way," she said. "You need someone tonight, don't you?"
"I suppose."
Sharon rolled onto her knees and then lowered herself somewhat diagonally onto him, curving her back to shape her body with his half-reclining, half-sitting form. "Someone to hold, to appreciate ... to fuck."
"Guilty."
"No need to ask for volunteers," she said softly, and fed him another gentle but probing kiss.
Letting him know she understood where he was at allowed him to relax. His strong arms encircled her, accepting her, if only for that night.
Okay. Tomorrow or the day after he would need her again. And by the time he stopped needing her he would simply want her. And she would have won, if that was the word for it.
Thinking about it like that made it sound cold-blooded. Made her come off as some kind of predator. A cunning, conniving gold-digger. So she stopped thinking about it. Anyway, it wasn't the truth. She was doing this so she could be the one to take care of him, because she loved him, not so that she would be taken care of. Sure, she wanted him to love her back, and wanted to make that happen-but out of fair play, not selfishness.
Now he was kissing her, and Sharon melted inside. The sweetest of emotions ran down through her system and swept up again, dizzying her mind. She had already experienced relief that all her efforts had not been in vain. Now she was rejoicing in the first taste of the fruit from the seed she had planted not so long ago. The verdict? Delicious.
Sharon had a leg folded across Gene's thighs. Her pelvis was pushing in on his hip. The front of her body was pretty much against his. As she savored his kiss, she slid her hand down his open flank and over his groin. Her fingers curved down between his legs on the swollen tube-shape that was there.
"Uhm," she moaned. "I was right about one thing that you need."
"You were right about them all," he confessed. "And one you missed."
"You need to feel appreciated, too."
"Maybe you didn't miss it after all."
"Lucky guess. Let's go someplace where we'll have more room, okay?"
"I guess so."
"We're gonna have to work on that enthusiasm," Sharon said, backing from him. She stood and drew him to his feet. She hooked a hand behind his belt and led him to the bedroom. He trailed along contentedly.
Sharon switched on a bedside lamp and kicked her shoes off. Her dress went next and, in only panties, she wrapped her arms around Gene. He'd left his coat in the other room. His jersey was off. She hadn't been able to resist another kiss.
"We're gonna have a real nice time," she promised against an ear. Continuing to caress him, she opened his belt and pants and pushed them down. His underwear followed, and his cock strained to rise against her lower tummy. She took it in a hand and backed off to look down.
His cock was thick and steamy hot in her grasp. It surged, still growing. Thick veins showed along the shaft, giving it a gnarled, tough, virile look. This was the full-fledged cock of a well-seasoned man. It was the kind of cock she had hoped all along he would have!
"Excuse us," Sharon said politely to Gene. "We're gonna get better acquainted."
She sank to her knees in front of him and sat back on raised heels. Gripping his cock at the base, she slipped her tongue out of an open mouth and touched the tip to the point of his glans. She brushed over it with a soft lick, and continued to wipe at the smooth cockhead with her gentle, moist, velvet tongue. She then took her tongue in and reached forward with her lips. She closed their ovaled shape lightly about his corona and brushed them down to his cock-tip, her mouth forming a pucker as she reached the slit. She made her lips flinch against the sensitive point, then slid them out around the flared glans and farther onto the shaft.
Sharon worked her way toward her gripping hand section by section, pausing between lurches to scrape against his cock with the flat of her tongue. She moved her hand out of the way and delved farther onto him with her clingy, sexy mouth.
She retreated in similar fashion, with the addition of suction every time her stretched lips pulled back. She let go of his organ with a wet smacking sound and looked up at him with a delighted expression. "I like it!" she declared.
"Help me out of these clothes, will you?" he said. "Then I'll find out what I like."
"How fair-minded," she smiled, pulling at a shoe on a raised foot.
"I always was fair-minded," he said. "Strangely, that may have been my problem."
"What do you mean?" Socks off now.
"It was like, she gives me the empire and I give her what she wants, a husband Daddy likes and who can be shown off to her friends and is a good fuck on top of that. I figured it was enough to stop there."
"She didn't want more?" Pants off now.
"She didn't seem to care, I guess because deep down she had so many feelings for this other guy. But she couldn't have him. Anyway, she didn't ask for more so I didn't give it. I was happy and I thought she was. I let it stand. But I shouldn't have. She deserved more."
"Why didn't you give it?" She held his shorts and he stepped out of them. His erection throbbed in the air, as it had been doing. She wanted to snare it in her mouth before it stopped moving, in mid-swing as it were. She let him answer instead.
"Because I deserved more and wasn't getting it. Fair was fair, you see?"
"That's not fair. That's pride, stinginess, selfishness. But I forgive you." Looking up with a smiling face, she kissed the end of his erect cock, and the side of the head, and the outer part of the shaft.
"Thanks," he murmured. He grasped her by the shoulders and drew her to her feet. "Now if you're so smart, what's it called when I want to find out what I like after you've found out what you like?"
"Oh, give and take, or maybe doing what you feel, or in this particular case I think we can call it head."
That brought a soft laugh out of him and he said, "You may be right."
Gene stepped to one side and sat on the edge of the bed. He turned Sharon to face him,. He pinched the elastic of her panties and pulled it to the tops of her thighs, exposing her dainty cunt bush.
Slowly, he turned her to face away from him. He pulled the back of her undies from the full crescents of her asscheeks. He squeezed each jutting curve of flesh, and kissed them fondly.
He whisked her panties down and off, then had Sharon face him once more. He slid off the bed to kneel before her, his thighs to either side of her ankles. His hands glided up the backs of her legs, cupping her asscheeks. He drew her mid-section forward.
Gene gently nuzzled her soft, furry mound with his nose, and his lips and his chin. Then he started to softly lick at it with long, flat slides of his tongue.
Sharon felt herself fairly bursting with delight. He didn't know it yet, but she did. He was hers. She felt it in his every touch, every pass of his tongue.
While that one part of her was rejoicing in its total fulfillment, another more familiar part was beginning to feel a deeper and hotter longing than she could ever remember knowing. She almost went breathless thinking of all the things she wanted him to do to her with his tongue, his fingers, his cock. And knowing that they were things he was going to do, sooner or later, well, she'd simply been set on fire!
If there had been any lingering doubts about the two of them, they were now banished. There was none of the first-time awkwardness or shyness or hesitancy. They were as comfortable and natural with each other as if they'd been lovers for years. The rightness of it rang clear through.
True, there remained certain threats. She still had Holt lingering on the fringe with the potential to ruin everything. And if she overplayed her hand, or showed a little too much confidence in Gene eventually accepting his want for her, it could all fall apart anyway.
But this wasn't the night for thinking about that. This was a night for feeling and doing and living.
Sharon played her slender fingers into Gene's soft hair, then teasingly put them over his ears. She picked up a leg and draped it over his shoulder, giving him access to the underside of her body ... to her pussy.
He sank a little lower and leaned farther ahead. His head tilted back and her pelvis tilted as if in sync with his movements. He started to unabashedly lick at her soft cunt folds.
She sensed that he was seeking to make up for his treatment of Rachel, and maybe to prove to himself that he could be a giving person. But Sharon didn't mind. It was best he worked all that stuff out of his system. And damned if she was going to let someone else help him through it!
He may have been conscious of his generosity instead of letting it come out naturally, for now. But generosity it was and Sharon was eating it up! His probing, caressing tongue wasn't being the least bit stingy about pleasing her sensitive outer lips or the hotter, softer, moister flesh of her inner cunt.
"You'll spoil me if you're not careful," she sighed happily.
"I'd better stop then," he murmured, kissing his way up onto her belly.
"No, don't," she said lamentingly.
He raised an arm, hooked it around her ass and twisted his body. She turned with him, and as she leaned toward the bed she toppled onto it. He scrambled up to join her, lying down with her and taking her in his arms. Legs entwining, mouths fusing, they rolled and writhed and squirmed together.
"Screw it," Gene said. "I don't care if it does spoil you. I'm going back for more!"
Sharon caught him by the shoulders. "Wait a minute. Two can play at that game, you know."
"That's right. You found something you like, too."
"I want it."
"You got it," he responded, pushing himself up onto hands and knees. He turned around over her and lay down next to her. Sharon rolled onto her side, facing him. She pillowed her head on a muscled, hairy thigh as he lifted the other one out of the way. She wrapped her smooth thighs around his head and felt his eager tongue return to her snatch. The angle of attack was different but the stimulation was just as rich.
Gene's cock was reaching out along his prone thigh. Sharon gazed down its thick, virile length, finding surprising comfort in having it close at hand. She had a feeling it was going to bring her a lot of pleasure in the near, hopefully very near, future.
She flicked her tongue out at the polished-looking knob. The whole shaft gave a jerk of excitement. Cocks, she marveled. So delicate yet so durable, and sensitive, as if they had minds of their own. Like living things, which, after all, they were.
Grinning at such thoughts, she licked Gene's dick again, and again. She brought a hand up and gripped it firmly but not too much, determined to take good care of the not so little demon that was going to take such good care of her! She could picture it grinning with anticipation inside.
Sharon opened her mouth as she shifted forward and took Gene's prick past her lips. She seemed to inhale his steely rod into her mouth and throat, giving it the sweetest, most intimate caress she knew how to give. Warm chills went through her upon seeing Gene's squirm of pleasure.
Gene's head rolled and twisted between Sharon's thighs as he mouthed her wanting pussy.
He was totally devoted to her pleasure, lifting and coaxing and spurring it to ever higher levels.
She responded in kind, prompted by the good things he was doing for her and by her own sense of unrestricted sexual interaction. She ran her mouth back and forth on his rigid length like she never wanted to stop.
Sometimes fast sometimes slow, sometimes flirtatious and teasing, sometimes raunchy and lewd, they swept one another along on their magic carpet of carnal arousal.
A special need came over Sharon, seemingly from out of the blue but not to be denied. Almost breathless, she took her mouth from his hard penis and rolled groggily onto her back. "God," she said in a lust-thickened voice, "I'm dying to feel you inside me. Would you mind terribly?"
Gene responded instantly, with Sharon giggling over his eagerness as he swung himself around to mount her. Just before he could, Sharon lifted her heels and placed her lower legs on his shoulders. He practically folded her double as he moved over her, holding himself up on bent arms. But Sharon thrived on the feeling of total surrender the position gave her.
She reached down between her thighs and tucked the point of his cock into her hole. She shivered hotly from head to toe as his cockhead probed into her depths, the crown scraping her lining with a fantastic friction.
It got to her in a big way, and it must have gotten to Gene too because immediately he lifted his joy-stick out for more. His hips crashed forward time and time again, with increasing speed and ardor. He was going out of his mind with arousal and was sweeping her right along with him.
She didn't know if it was as good as she'd thought it would be. Just then she could barely remember her own name, let alone some old, useless fantasies.
But as he carried her up, up, and over the brink, she didn't think that any fantasy could live up to this reality. Her climax left her dripping with fulfillment, shuddering and shaking with total joy. Wrapping possessive arms and legs about Gene's sagging body, she was sure she had everything she would ever want in the whole wide world.
CHAPTER NINE
When the inevitable call from Brian Holt finally came, Sharon invited him to her apartment.
"You're right," he said. "We shouldn't talk over the phone."
That wasn't exactly her reason, but no matter. The less he caught on to the better.
It was another Saturday morning when he showed up. She greeted him at the door in the same revealing teddy she had been wearing last time. The robe had been dispensed with. She also had on a pair of high-heeled red sandals.
The outfit surprised him. She had sounded friendly over the phone but not this friendly.
"The lady in red," he remarked, ambling into the apartment. He was dressed a little more casually this time too, though he still appeared immaculate and preened.
"It worked so well for us last time," Sharon answered, leaning against the door with hips cocked. "I wanted to see if lightning would strike twice."
"I considered that a one-time thing," he stated calmly.
She had figured as much. He could blackmail her and leave her bearing no real grudges-a point that he only needed to prove to himself once. But with an ego like he had, surely he would be open to flattery.
"You showed me something that day," Sharon murmured to him. "You've been sneaking around in my mind ever since. I missed you. My pussy missed you."
"I guess Gene doesn't do it for you then, huh?"
"Gene's an old square," she lied with a pout. "He's got what I want, but you've got what I need."
"How flattering," he said to that, trying to sound indifferent, but his inward pleasure was noticeable. He'd done a better job on her than he'd thought.
Sharon moved from the door and eased up against the front of his body. Lifting her chin, she looked at him with half-lidded eyes. "I know you've got it in you," she said, "so don't play hard to get. Let's do it."
Holt relinquished a smile. "I think you're crazy, but I like it."
Sharon slipped a hand into his and started toward the bedroom. She was smiling herself, though for different reasons. Once it had occurred to her to fight fire with fire, the rest had been easy. She had come up with a plan to neutralize him in no time, and it was starting to work. Like a charm.
Gene and Sharon hadn't really changed much as far as what Holt had on her went. Gene would see her as a scheming gold-digger and that would be the end of their relationship before it had started for real. And now that she had had a taste of what would be with him she was even more strongly compelled to silence Holt.
Sharon led Holt up to the foot of the bed. She moved onto it on her knees, moving around in front of him, curving her body temptingly against his. She wired an arm about his neck and gave him a seductive kiss. Her other hand slipped from his and she rubbed at his crotch.
Holt responded with restraint. He was letting himself slowly give way to her enticement, too proud to appear eager. Not that she held it against him. Without that high opinion he had of himself she might have been stuck.
Sharon let the kiss play out. She retreated from him slightly and turned her back. She looked at him over a shoulder with a tempting expression. "Peel me," she said, mimicking Jean Harlow's screen maid of long ago.
He pinched her shoulder straps and drew them aside and down. Her breasts were bared, out of his view but bared nevertheless. She lifted her arms free and dropped forward onto them. On all fours, she curved her back to saucily stick out her rump.
He peeled the flimsy garment from her backside and down. She lifted her knees one after the other so he could pull it the rest of the way off. He left the sandals on.
Sharon's nakedness felt like a caress over her entire body. Having the attention of an attractive, sexy male, despite his business methods, fairly glued to her only magnified the pleasurable sensation.
Last time she had worried over the lightness of enjoying Holt's carnal companionship. Then she had stopped worrying about it, for various reasons, none really more dominant than the other.
This time she wasn't going to start worrying. Holt was undeniably a terrific fuck. And as long as Gene had yet to fully accept her as his future she could indulge in that without guilt. At least, just this once. Besides, with her sensual nature, fighting it would only lead to frustration. If you're going to take the ride you might as well enjoy it, she figured.
The fact that Holt was a blackmailer didn't bother her. In the first place, she would be balling the man, not the villain. In the second place, before she was done she would have put him in his place.
The ride had begun, and these thoughts left her mind as she buckled down to enjoy herself. She lowered herself onto the bed, shifting around to lie across it in a tempting position.
"Now you," she said to him. "Show me all over again what you've got."
Showing a cocky sort of grin, he started to undress, working from the floor up. Sharon watched with rising interest, her mouth watering a little as she witnessed the bulge in his briefs. Then he whisked them down and his cock sprang out to point at her. Her insides flinched with a sudden excitement and anticipation.
"Explain something to me," she said. "Why blackmail? With what you've got you could seduce information out of any secretary going."
She knew the real answer, of course, about how blackmailing them first made what came later more challenging and therefore more satisfying. But she had to get him talking. The more he said, or the less he denied, the more incriminated he would be.
"It's called covering the angles," he replied. It was an answer he thought she would buy, and she played along.
"Maybe you can also tell me how you got the goods on me?" she said then, her tone conversational.
"Does it matter?" he asked. He removed his sports shirt and came onto the bed on his knees. He sat back on his heels for the moment.
"I couldn't help wondering," Sharon said. Propped up on an elbow, she reached for Holt's extended prick and played a loose, swirling hand over it, increasing the virile dimensions noticeably. "I thought maybe Gil Tatum's secretary told you. Have you got the goods on her? Or do you have a bug in her phone? Or both? Covering the angles there too?"
"Pretty clever," he remarked.
"Got a bug in my phone?"
"You've probably already looked. I'll have to make do with trusting you."
"Treat me nice and I'll treat you nice," she said to that. Remaining stomach down on the bedding, she shifted around to face him. Specifically, his cock.
It had reached full erection and was angling up from his groin as if to meet her. She held off for a moment, her mind shifting from her plan to entrap him to the pleasure at hand again. She tickled the underside of his broad cock with her fingertips, letting them travel down to his balls as she lowered her head forward.
She kissed the tip of Holt's hard-on. Then she slowly kissed the thick, flared knob with her lips. She brought her tongue out and brushed that around his cockhead. She wriggled the tip against his underside, then flicked upward to playfully make his length bounce before her eyes.
"God," she gasped, "what this cock did for me!"
With a sort of lunge she took most of Holt's pecker into her mouth. Pressing forward, she forced it into her throat. Rotating her head, she tickled his pubic mound with the tip of her nose.
Sharon pulled back slowly, her mouth clinging to his organ, her suction drawing on it with a deep-rooted want. If this didn't make the hairs on the back of his neck stir then nothing would.
"Damn," Holt said emphatically.
Smiling to herself, Sharon deep-throated him again. Then for prolonged minutes she continued sliding her mouth over his stiff penis, lusciously pulling at it, arousing the excitement inside him.
She put her plan of entrapment on hold for the time being and gave herself over to having some real fun. It would be better to save the talk for later, when his tongue would be loosened, and he would have things of his own to volunteer.
Sharon retreated from him, pushing herself back and up onto all fours. In deliberate fashion she turned around, turning her back to him, and reverse-crawled toward him.
She slid her feet between his legs and under his upright body. Her asscheeks lowered toward his hips, her crotch toward his straining cockshaft. In a crouching sort of position, she reached back between her thighs and fingered apart her pussy folds. She touched the gash to the hot, wet head of his cock.
Sharon pushed herself onto Holt's angled pecker, halted, pushed again, then again. She took his complete length into the steamy grasp of her snatch and held it there, a delighted moan rising out of her gorgeous body.
Holt's hands slid slowly over her back, from her buttocks to her shoulders and down again. He reached around and cradled her fleshy boobs in squeezing fingers. And it felt good. Damn good.
To be touched by a man who knew how to appreciate a sexy body was terrific.
She was almost sorry she was going to put an end to their relationship. She was sorry they hadn't met under better circumstances. If only she had met him before she had met Gene. Oh, hell, why was she even thinking about it? Getting it on with him might be heavenly, but he was no angel.
Sharon rocked up and away from Holt's nether region. She swayed her ass to one side and slid down a short way onto his cock. She swayed to the other side and took in another section of tasty prick.
"Trying to get me started?" Holt murmured, referring to her provocative actions.
I don't think you need much help," Sharon remarked. "I'm just enjoying myself until you catch up."
"What if I don't?"
"I'll still have a pretty good time."
"I think I'd like to see that."
Sharon smiled widely. Unwittingly he was playing into her hands in more ways than one. She'd wanted to set him up for a fall and have a good time herself in the process. If he was going to sit back and let her have her way with him then the latter would be guaranteed. Boy. When things started to go her way they really started to go her way.
Was this part of her reward for waiting so long for the man she wanted? For working so hard to win him over? For looking after and taking care of herself? Or was there even such a thing as rewards? She didn't know. She didn't probe into it too deeply either. It didn't matter. Good or bad, she could take it. And fight it or run with it, whatever was necessary.
'I should be proud of myself,' she thought to herself, and she was. There didn't seem to be anything she couldn't handle. She wasn't some helpless wimp, didn't need anyone. Wanting, of course, was a whole other matter. But that was pretty well taken care of too.
Slightly premature, but Sharon was in a mood to celebrate. It was time to let her hair down and cut loose.
With a fresh sense of determination, she started to run her pussy over the enveloping fullness of Holt's rod. She was using it somewhat as a sex toy, concentrating on her fun more than on his. Which would be giving Holt a real kick, she knew. What could be more flattering to a guy like him than seeing a chick go nutso on his dick?
'Let him have his fun,' she thought. He'd probably had more good times than one guy could use in a lifetime, obtained by God knew how many ways. But he'd shown her an interesting time and it seemed only fair she reciprocated. Besides, it wasn't going to cost her anything.
Sharon hunched herself at Holt's cock with a lewd enthusiasm. The flesh of her haunches rippled with every collision against his hips. High on her chest as she leaned forward, her breasts bounced and rolled, seeming to frolic together as her joy surged upward.
Presently she pushed herself upright against him. His arms embraced and held her as she ground down hard on his cockshaft. Just as abruptly she pushed his arms out of the way and went forward, disengaging herself from his red, glistening prick. On her knees she spun to face him.
"Lie down on your back, " she breathed. "I'll give you something to see." She pulled down a pillow for him to rest his head on, to improve his view.
He appeared to appreciate that, and complied with her horny wishes. He stretched out on his back with his shameless rod sticking up in the air over his belly, all hot and horny for attention. Sharon's view wasn't bad either.
Sharon didn't let high heels stop her from standing up on the bed, astride of Holt's mid-section. She gazed down at him with glinting eyes, a hand resting on her pussy, stroking idly, then becoming bolder about it as she saw where he was looking-right at it.
Giving him a little more teasing, she tilted her pussy out and pressed her middle finger inside it. She stroked in and out of her entrance with her fingertip, then delved deeper, the curve of her digit disappearing inside her moist cuntal chute.
"Wanna see your cock vanish like that?" she asked, snapping her finger.
"You know it!"
Sharon held her hand and finger where they were as she bent her knees and lowered into a squatting position over his engorged prick. Holt's eyes followed her down and she thought she detected a squirm of impatience in him.
After a few more quick strokes, she drew her finger from her twat and picked up Holt's hard-on to point it at her slit. She worked the unyielding tip in between her swollen folds and took her hand away.
Both hands on her knees, swaying her hips, Sharon worked herself down onto him. Hitting bottom, she shifted her hips to and fro, working his cock around inside her tenuous grasp.
Holt's hands lifted. He could reach the swollen points of her breasts only with his fingertips. She let him pinch and pluck at her nipples but flirtatiously held back from further contact. She grinned at him. This was her show. Her party. His hands dropped to her thighs and squeezed as he waited for action.
Sharon couldn't wait, she wanted to feel her pussy gripping Holt's cock-length. She wanted to feel the sensual filling-up and emptying-out of fucking, his cockhead stretching her and pounding against that invisible part of her that held the sweetness of climax.
Balanced on her high heels, Sharon flexed her strong legs and lifted her body. The luscious sensation provided by Holt's cock-ridge went from the bottom of her tunnel to the outstretched, slightly pouty cunt lips. She sank back onto his pulsing prick without a second of hesitation. From here on out she couldn't imagine stopping for anything at all.
Her sumptuous body lifted and lowered, rose and fell as if there was a briskly rolling ocean under her. With a tireless, practiced ease she pumped up and down on Holt's greased pole.
"Mmmmm," she groaned as dreamy sensations filtered out through her needy system. She rolled her head back and moaned with pleasure as she continued riding the magical fuck-rod.
"I'm gonna have a good, hard cum," she murmured sexily. "I can feel it building. My nerve endings are starting to yearn for it like they do when it's gonna be good."
"Try not to leave me out in the cold, okay?" he said to that, chuckling with enjoyment of her smooth raunchiness.
Legs tiring slightly, Sharon let herself topple forward. With arms straight, she planted her hands up near his shoulders. Her knees and toes dug into the bedding close on either side of Holt.
With less weight on her legs, she had greater freedom of movement and could fuck a lot faster if she wanted to. And she did want to, though she didn't indulge herself too much in that area just yet. She was having too much fun just sliding over his deep-reaching hard-on.
His hands moved on her body. Now he could grip her tits any way he wanted, and play with them however he wanted. He indulged himself lewdly.
Sharon's tempo increased despite herself. That cock was so screamingly good, so available, it was getting the better of her. Sharon's body was calling the shots now, not her imagination.
She drew herself up to the tip and lunged back, faster and harder each minute. Excitement was making her tingle all over. Her carnal need was beginning to overwhelm her, to cry for the satisfaction that remained pent-up elsewhere in her depths.
Sharon drove herself down on Holt's prick with an avid determination. If the pounding head of his cock didn't blast her climax wide open then maybe the fantastic heat of her frictioned cunt would make it explode.
She whimpered with need, gasping with rising excitement. Her efforts were becoming desperate, no longer effortless. In her ears was Holt's voice, sounding kind of strained itself, urging her on, encouraging her.
Holt's heels dug into the bedding behind her and his hips started to thrust. The added force and friction were the coup de grace for her, finishing off the wicked effort and opening her up for the exploding conclusion.
Completion surged through Sharon's body with volcanic force, fairly knocking the wind out of her. Every hard pulsation gushed out sweeter sensations than the last and they threatened to go on forever.
She collapsed onto Holt, exhausted, fighting for breath and sanity at the same time. Underneath her damp-skinned body he was bucking out the pent-up pleasures of his own torrid climax. Limp, she let herself ride with him, bending and rolling with however he moved. When he softened, Sharon's body covered him completely.
Minutes could have passed before she was able to lift her head from his shoulder. She kissed his neck, then she moved to his lips and kissed him there. Blissed out, he stirred.
"Well stud," she murmured. "You want some more or do you wanna talk a little business?"
"If I recall, that is what I came here for."
"Business," she said. "Dirty business."
"Call it what you want."
"Would you really tell on me if I didn't play along with this scheme of yours?"
"Try me."
"It wouldn't get you the information you want."
"I'd find somebody else, some other way."
"Ambitious."
"Not terribly. And I'm not all that greedy. I want to live well, not excessively. What have you got for me?"
"Nothing definite. Gene's quietly looking into a pharmaceutical company back east. The major shareholder is a friend of his and he wants to sell."
"To Gene or the highest bidder?"
"To Gene now, but if somebody happens along first with a better offer ... "
"Or buys some of the other shares and waits for the price to go up. What's it called?"
Sharon gave Holt the name of a company that didn't really exist. By the time he found that out she would have him where she wanted him. Hell, he was as good as there right now.
"Well sweetheart," he said, "I think we're off to a nice start."
"I'm satisfied."
He chuckled, running a hand up her back. "That doesn't surprise me."
"And I suppose now that you've got what you came for you'll be moving on?"
"I've got a lunch date."
"Some other poor female you intend to use and discard?"
"I'll leave her with a smile," he said to that. "Like you. Mind if I shower here?"
"Help yourself," Sharon answered. She waited for him to push her off so he could move from the bed. She giggled playfully and watched him get up and walk into the bathroom.
She stayed where she was until she heard the shower running, and a moment longer in case he decided to come back to invite her in to wash his back or something. When satisfied he wasn't going to suddenly reappear, Sharon rolled over, reached under the bed. She found the right switch and turned off the tape recorder she had placed there earlier, expressly for his visit.
She let out a deep breath of satisfaction. With the information that was on the tape she figured she could cause enough trouble for Holt to make him reconsider his business tactics, at least as far as she was concerned. If she used it in the right way.
Blackmail, trading on inside information, suggestions of other things, he was quite the criminal. The proper authorities would love him-if they were to find out.
They wouldn't, of course. Holt would give her the silence she wanted and back off, and she would keep the tape in a safe place to keep him honest.
Poor Brian. It would all come as quite a shock to him, no doubt. As far as he knew she was putty in his hands.
Well, maybe he would be more careful in the future, and not underestimate who he was dealing with. If he didn't, well, if he wanted to play reckless it was his problem. He was out of her hair now and she wasn't going to worry about him.
Sharon rolled onto her back and stretched out across the bed, feeling the satisfaction of a job well done. It almost left her with more contentment than that body-wracking climax she had just come through. Almost.
Damn. He did have the stuff where fun was concerned.
But Gene was better. Gene had the whole package. And from now on it was the only package she would have any interest in.
Her only problem was getting him to accept the idea that he felt the same way about her. Already she was sifting through possible methods of making that happen. And soon.
CHAPTER TEN
Weeks passed.
Rachel and Gil Tatum were being seen everywhere together. It was as if she had never been married. And in some ways, she hadn't.
The divorce was taking its course. Lawyers had been seen, and there had been meetings between Gene and Rachel that never veered from the business-like or civil. Like the dissolving of any partnership.
Gene knew when he had lost, when there was no hope, and didn't fight it. Failure continued to wear on him, especially with the knowledge that much of it had been his fault. He was having a hard time shaking it, bouncing back from it.
"Listen," Sharon said to him one day as they were walking back to the office from lunch, "are you sure you're looking at this from the right angle? I mean, you didn't really try to make it a real marriage, did you? For whatever reasons?"
"I guess not."
"But if you had tried, you'd still be married, wouldn't you?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe nothing," she scoffed. "You know you would."
"Okay. I believe I would."
"So what do you have to prove to anybody? You didn't fail with Rachel. You just didn't try."
"I suppose, but that in itself is a failure."
"You're being too hard on yourself. There's no fault in not trying with someone you never loved."
Gene stopped as if something had just occurred to him. He was mulling over what she had just said. And something else. "You're right, I never loved her, really. But I married her, and that carries certain obligations, very few of which I met."
"Now I get it," Sharon realized. "You're not upset about losing Rachel. You're upset about, what? Corrupting the idea of marriage? Using it to your advantage? Not taking it as seriously or treating it as respectfully as you feel you should?"
"That sounds about right," he admitted. "I think it's a great institution."
""Not to be entered into lightly'," she quoted. "But I still say you're being too hard on yourself. You may have sinned against the institution of marriage, but you weren't the first and you won't be the last. And you are young enough to get a second chance."
He seemed cheered, somewhat. "Maybe," he allowed. Then, a touch sheepishly, "You think there's a man in the world who takes marriage as seriously as I do?"
"The Pope."
He chuckled softly. "Yeah. Funny though, I haven't acted like I took it so seriously these past few years. I was lying to myself the whole time-maybe that's the real reason I feel So lousy."
"It's over now, Gene. Put it behind you. Come out into the sun."
He took in a deep breath and let it out. "You may have a point," he said.
They continued on their way, but didn't get far. Gene stopped again, something else having occurred to him. "I don't feel like going back to the office," he said.
"Park?" she suggested. "Beach? Bed?"
He looked at her blankly. They had slept together a few times, and it had been great, but he didn't appear too tempted by the idea now.
"Or would you rather be alone?" she said then, hoping she didn't sound hurt. She could understand if he would prefer it, but talking like this had been getting them close. It was starting to feel as if they should be doing everything together. For her, at least.
"No," he said thoughtfully. "I could use the company."
They went for a drive. He had heard of a house for sale and wanted a look. They found it on a rocky mountaintop overlooking the ocean, but got only an outside view. Gene took down the number on the real estate agent's sign posted by the driveway.
Sharon thought, 'I wouldn't mind living here.
Should I tell him? Just say it in passing?" Better not. Gene had grown quiet since their chat. Pensive. Either something was working on him or he was working on something.
On their way back into the city they passed a nice looking motel. Gene immediately lightened his foot on the pedal.
"Did you mean that offer about a bed?" he asked.
"Sex is one institution I never kid about," she answered.
He smiled and eased the car into a U-turn. "Seemed like a family sort of place," he remarked. "I hope they'll let us in."
They did, with no fuss or bother. Gene and Sharon wound up in a second floor room with a wide window letting in a wide shaft of bright, summer sunlight. Sharon drew the curtains to soften it but left the blind up. She turned and found Gene leaning a shoulder into the locked door, gazing at her in that serious sort of way which had come over him.
If he had something to say she would trust him to come out with it when he was ready. By now he knew he could say anything to her. Meanwhile, she decided to really give him something to look at.
Sharon slipped off her jacket and dropped it on a chair. She unfastened her skirt and stepped out of it. Pantyhose followed, panties next. She unbuttoned her blouse from top to bottom and shrugged it from her shoulders. She then stood with hips cocked, arms by her sides, bright eyes on his.
Gene came forward, coming right up to her, stopping with his chest against the points of her enticing breasts. She slid her hands around to his back, under his jacket and pressed her body to his. He looked into her eyes in musing fashion for a moment, then kissed her.
She was dying to ask what was going on in that head of his. But she had done enough probing, enough trying to open him up. She had made herself available enough as a friend, confidante and nurse. There came a time to stop pushing and pull back to see if anything followed. She would confine herself to fucking him. There hadn't been enough of that. Not nearly.
He wrapped his arms around her naked body and held her close. He swayed with her, starting to feel good obviously.
"Can I help you with anything?" she asked playfully.
"I'll be right with you," he answered.
She slipped from him and went to the bed. Reclining on it on one side, she watched Gene getting undressed. Clark flashed across her mind, and Rusty, and Gil, and Brian Holt. Strangers to her now, far away almost forgotten.
There was nothing blocking her from Gene, nobody in the way or lurking on the sidelines. It was a little scary, somehow, but exciting. It made her feel almost giddy, like a virgin.
She couldn't remember being so in love. It was even deeper now than it had been at the start. Gene meant so much to her she could hardly keep a clear head anymore.
It would have been a lot more scary if she didn't know that he at least cared for her, and enjoyed her company and her body, that he needed her. She wasn't in this completely alone, wasn't faced with potential disaster.
It would have been a lot more exciting if she knew that he was over his need for her, and his need to prove things to himself. It would help if he was ready to put past failings in their proper place and get on with his life with the woman who loved him. And who he loved, or had started to. Why couldn't he accept the inevitability of it? What was taking so long?
Naked, Gene moved onto the bed. He lay down on his side in front of her, up on an elbow like she was. Sharon shifted over to lie against him, feeling how his presence filled her up emotionally, and made her ache sexually. She searched his eyes, wondering if he felt it too, from her. He kissed her before she could glean anything.
He put his arm around her, too, and pulled her close, kissing her hard. There seemed to be something different about it. Something fuller, more heartfelt than usual. Did she dare believe it? Was he finally giving in? Had she finally said and done the right things to set him free?
Sharon melted against him, yielding to his ardent expression of feeling, then reciprocating in kind. She told herself not to make any more assumptions, to wait until she was absolutely sure before she started rejoicing. She had waited this long. What was a little while longer?
She worked a hand down his back and over the cheeks of his ass, then over his thigh and up between their legs. She drew his expanding cock up between their bodies and touched at his balls with light fingertips.
Hardness entered his cock with great surges and it pressed into her lower torso with a horny impatience. Sharon smiled against his kissing lips and slid her ass away so she could run her hand up onto his pulsing hard-on
"I know what that must feel like inside," she said.
"Oh yeah?"
"I'm feeling kind of horny myself."
"Oh yeah?"
She giggled and took his wrist and moved his hand to the juncture of her parted thighs. He went from there, massaging her swollen folds and probing in between them with a testing finger.
"Oh," he said with a tone of discovery. "You're wet!"
She looked down between their bodies at the up-pointed head of his cock. There was a drop of anticipatory cum in his dick slit. "I'm wet, and you 're wet," she said, crooking a finger and smearing his droplet over the smooth, purple-tinted glans. "We should do something."
"Make your move," he said.
Sharon backed from him and turned over to lie on her other side. She slid her rump back toward him and draped a leg over his thighs. Reaching between her legs, she grasped his cock and fit the tip into the moist nook of her pussy.
Gene pressed forward with his hips and entered her deep clasp, sinking to the hilt inside her. Sharon moaned softly and wriggled her ass affectionately against his hips.
"It's good," he murmured, almost to himself, "and it keeps getting better."
"Uhm, yes," Sharon sighed happily.
With savoring slowness he pulled his cock from her slick, hot twat and pushed in. Sharon's spine curved as tingles of delight chased along it. She grinned sweetly.
His hand moved from her waist up to her chest. He closed it around each boob with a sexy, pulling squeeze. He toyed with her nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger. His hips continued to grind his cock in and out of her with the sweet give and take of fucking.
Sharon twisted her upper body, reaching back to hook her arm behind Gene's neck. She pulled herself to him and kissed him on the mouth. She fed him her tongue, and their mouths fused.
"I want to cum with you," he said next. "I want to keep on cumming with you."
"I know how that feels, too."
He smiled lovingly and kissed her again.
'He's coming around,' she thought. Need was falling by the wayside, replaced by a growing want. Just the thing she had been waiting for.
Sharon relaxed and let it happen. Let the rising sense of belonging wash over her. Let the surrender she had been waiting so long to give go out to him, let his course into her system like something fresh and new and thrilling.
She had thought she would want to jump up and down when it finally happened, or something wildly celebratory like that. Instead she was feeling calm, glowing inside. But this was appropriate. She had worked to have Gene, not to win him like some trophy. It hadn't been a sporting contest. It had been a game, not a contest.
"I want to have you on top," she said to him. "I want to spread for you and take you as deep as you can put it."
"You have no shame," he murmured appreciatively.
"It's the only way to go," she answered.
He withdrew from her, and she rolled onto her back and he positioned himself over her. She pulled her parted legs way back and tilted her pussy up in unabashed offering. He slid in and ground the head of his cock against her most intimate depths.
His hips lifted and strove forward, grating against the tight walls of her pussy with his cockhead. The luscious push and pull fed a special hunger in her being. Only the more she got the more she wanted, and the more he gave her.
For minutes-ages-it went on. Sharon basked in the erotic feelings and bathed in the loving emotions and glowed from within with warm togetherness. Eyes closed, face sexily flushed, her head rolled from side to side as dreamy sensation after dreamy sensation went through her body and mind.
"It's so good," she whispered. "You've got it all, baby. Everything I could want."
"I know how that feels," Gene said.
Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. "Do you? Really?"
"Sure."
Sharon wrapped arms and legs about him, pinning his cock deep inside and claiming him with a kiss.
"You made a lot of sense before," he said then. "I want to start over, and I want you to be a part of it. Of my life."
"You got it!"
He kissed her, and the contact sent a wave of hot chills down through her body. He tried to move but she held fast to him.
"You'll never regret it," she promised.
"I might, if I can't find a secretary as good as you've been."
"Booting me out, huh?"
"I couldn't keep you around the office. Too distracting."
"In my last official act I'll get you someone to replace me. I'll make sure she's efficient, but also some old battleaxe you won't look twice at."
"I guess I can understand that. I do seem to have a thing for secretaries, don't I?"
"Permanent, I hope."
"Absolutely."
"Really?"
"I'm ready to make promises again. Let that one be my first."
"And your second?"
"We're spending the night here; "Great. Now let me make you a promise. You'll never have any regrets about any of this."
"I know," he said, his lips coming to hers again. "I know."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Six very busy and exciting months passed for Sharon. She and Gene moved into the oceanside house they had discovered together, and which he had bought without looking at another. It was a roomy, rustic sort of place with a large, stone fireplace and a broad second floor balcony that caught the sun exquisitely. With Gene's input she changed much of the furnishings, but everything else about the place was just right.
There were new neighbors to get to know, and a new community to explore. They were on the fringe of a suburb, not too long a drive from the city proper, but Sharon felt as if she had gone back to a small town. She felt right at home.
When Gene's quick divorce became final their new friends made up most of the wedding party. The rest were either friends of Gene or people from the office, including his new secretary. No, she wasn't the battle-axe Sharon had promised, but she was happily married and that was good enough. As in safe enough. Not much danger of her chasing after Gene. And if she did, she would have a lot bigger fight on her hands than his previous wife had put up for him.
Their honeymoon took them to New Zealand-Australia had gone too touristy-and it was a charmed two and a half weeks. Even if Gene's mind wandered to what might be going on at the office and what might need doing. He found time to indulge Sharon nevertheless, and to let himself be indulged.
But after they came back and they settled into what would be the pattern of their lives together things began to wind down. It was natural and to be expected, Sharon knew, but there were things about it she knew that she wasn't going to like.
Gene's work and the company meant a lot to him. He loved being in there, wheeling and dealing, solving problems, making the business run. He didn't put in the long hours some husbands did, but when he was home, work was often on him mind. At times it made Sharon feel she was taking a back seat.
It all came as something of a shock. She hadn't even considered possible discontent as part of a future with Gene. She hadn't pictured herself as a woman Gene wouldn't want to race home to every evening, or want to spend all the time he possibly could with.
Maybe she should have seen it coming. She'd had ample opportunity to witness Gene's devotion to the business. She'd chalked that up to the absence of the right woman in his life. However, she had seen enough talk shows and heard enough to know that some men found most of their satisfaction in their work. They might want a good wife and might talk a good line about it, but in truth that could only be a secondary devotion.
She hadn't considered Gene very closely. She had let her heart lead her into that game of scheming seduction without really thinking about what she might wind up with, as opposed to what she hoped to, or sensed was there to be had.
He wasn't a bad person. Quite the opposite, in fact. Gene remained the most important thing in her life, or her heart. It hurt that she didn't always feel she was the most important thing to him, but that wasn't something he inflicted on her intentionally. She didn't blame him for anything.
Still and all, it was a bit early in the marriage for regrets. There were moments when everything went as she had hoped they would, and they sustained her through the dry spells.
And for all she knew she was just going through some kind of post-honeymoon blahs. All high points were followed by some sort of let-down. She wasn't going to work herself into a panic over something that could easily be a phase.
The last person Sharon expected to run into after the wedding, apart from Brian Holt and maybe a couple others, was Rachel. And she never would have dreamed of the two of them becoming friends. But that was exactly what happened.
Sharon had gone into town to explore some of the trendier boutiques, and it was in one of those where she and Rachel happened across one another. Sharon was going in as Rachel was starting out. Their eyes met and locked together and they actually stopped in their tracks, neither knowing quite how to react.
"Hello Rachel," Sharon tried first, in a polite tone.
"Hello," Rachel answered, untensing noticeab-ly.
"Small world."
"I guess one of us was bound to say that," Rachel said easily. She stepped forward. Sharon slipped aside to allow her to leave but Rachel stopped just before the door. "But I don't feel crowded," she added. "Do you?"
"No," Sharon answered. "Not especially."
"Good. Take care." Rachel pushed the door open and started out.
"Bye," Sharon said, turning to watch her go. A sudden impulse seized her and she next found herself chasing after Rachel. She called out and Rachel turned to her.
"I just wanted to say," Sharon said, "well, I'm glad there are no hard feelings."
"Why should there be? We both got what we wanted. Didn't we?"
"I did, but at the risk of sounding cruel, I didn't lose a husband in the bargain."
"I'm not sure I did either, considering how our marriage was going. Or just was. And the divorce was my idea, remember."
"So it was," Sharon acknowledged. "Well, I'm glad we bumped into each other. If it happens again maybe we can have a drink or something."
Rachel took the briefest of pauses and then said, "Why wait? Why not right now?"
"You mean it?"
"Sure. We can compare notes. Give us something to talk about."
"Well," Sharon decided, "I wasn't really all that interested in shopping today anyway."
"No," Rachel replied. "Neither was I."
"How is Gene?" Rachel asked. "I mean, I've seen him a few times in business matters but we haven't really talked. How is he really?"
"Happy, plain and simple. I don't know what more he could want. And I hope that doesn't sound like bragging. Even though it is."
She laughed with Rachel. They were sitting on an open, sun-lit terrace that was an adjunct to a cozy, fern-laden bar Rachel had taken Sharon to.
"And how about you?" Rachel asked then.
"Me? I'm fine."
"Fine? Not happy?"
"Are you getting at something?"
"I'm curious," Rachel answered, turning sober and reflective. "I said before we both got what we wanted. And that's true, to some extent. But lately, to tell the truth, it's felt more like I've been acquired, and put on a shelf. Do you know what I mean?"
"Not entirely."
"Work seems to have more of a hold on Gil than I do," Rachel confided. "He seems to need me to fill in the in-betweens, or to re-charge his batteries, or to show off at restaurants or parties."
"That first part hits pretty close to home," Sharon found herself admitting. "I sometimes feel I'm behind Gene instead of beside him."
"Yes," Rachel said. "I thought we might have that in common, knowing Gene as I do, getting to know Gil as I have."
"You sound almost bitter."
"Not bitter. Just a little disappointed. In Gil, and myself. I should have had my eyes open wider than I did."
"I know what you mean. I suppose you're kind of lonely too?"
"Yes."
"We should become friends," Sharon suggested. "I'd like that. But I should confess something first."
"What?"
"I know you encouraged Gil to phone me. He told me so himself. You actually schemed to break Gene and me up." Rachel spoke without malice and Sharon took none.
"I don't know what to say," Sharon replied nervously.
"What I don't know is how you found out about him."
What you also don't know is how much I 'encouraged' him, Sharon thought. But she chose to answer only the questions that were asked.
"Rusty," Sharon said simply.
Rachel gaped. "You don't mean it."
"I wanted to see how solid your marriage was. I asked him to find out for me."
"I guess you had to use somebody, right?"
"He was quite willing. He was heartbroken when you dumped him."
"I don't quite believe that."
"Well, he was going to miss you. Terribly."
Rachel seemed interested to hear it, but quickly shook it off. "Anyway, the reason I got into all this, if we're going to be friends I didn't want anything under the surface that would make us bullshit each other from time to time. I want us to be real friends. I need that."
"So do I."
They chinked glasses and drank to it.
Sharon sighed. "So we're not quite as happily married as we thought we'd be. You don't suppose we'll each wind up having an affair with somebody, do you?"
"You'll be the first to know."
"For a second there I thought you were going to say I'll be the first."
"I'm not that desperate," Rachel smiled.
They agreed that there would be no harm in telling their husbands that they had met and hit it off and planned to spend more free time together. And they were right. Both Gil and Gene approved.
So they became friends, and for Sharon at least it seemed to fill out her life. There were no more restless, uncertain, lonely moments. Whatever companionship and fun Gene didn't provide was more than compensated for by Rachel. But there remained another surprise in store for Sharon.
"Let's get together for a drink," Rachel said over the phone one morning.
"Okay. Where?"
There was a slight hesitation, then Rachel answered in a smooth, certain voice. "How about a motel room?"
"A what?"
"Champagne on ice, a double bed, and thou," Rachel purred. "How about it? Do you dare?"
Remembering their first conversation, Sharon said, "I guess you've finally gotten desperate, huh?"
"Call it that if you want to. Or maybe I'm just tired of those guys of ours having the best of all possible worlds. Why don't we look for some thing to fill our days with? Or, since I think this is it, why don't we grab it?"
'Why not?" Sharon found herself thinking. 'Why the hell not, damn it!"
Leaning back against the motel room door a few hours later, Sharon watched Rachel pour her a glass of champagne. Rachel was in a skirt and blouse, bare feet and bare legs. Sharon slipped her shoes off. She wasn't wearing nylons either. Or underwear. Just a silky, robe-style dress that would just fall off it you pulled the right strings. Shameless.
The room was carpeted, done in pastel shades, with a curtained window filtering indirect afternoon sunlight. There was no chance of anyone looking in so neither thought about closing the drapes.
A thick knot of anticipation gripped Sharon's insides. She knew what was in store without knowing. She had never gone all the way with another woman, but with Rachel it would have to be delicious.
Rachel approached with two glasses, gave one to Sharon. Her eyes showed a warm glow; she was obviously starting to have a good time. She touched her glass to Sharon's and they both sipped the chilled wine.
"You were right," Rachel said. "We are winding up having an affair with somebody."
"What're we gonna tell our husbands?"
"That we saw each other today. They won't ask to hear more about it. Trust me on that."
"Is that why you picked me? So you wouldn't have to lie to Gil-technically at least-about how you're spending your afternoons?"
"So we wouldn't have to lie," Rachel answered, and smoothly, without hesitation, leaned forward. Her soft lips landed on Sharon's with a sweet, lasting kiss.
Sharon let her lips mold to Rachel's and responded further with velvety pressure. Rachel was setting a smooth pace and she was eager to follow.
All this was happening awfully soon after the wedding but if she didn't take the opportunity now who knew when she would get another? And with whom? An affair seemed inevitable, and that being the case, this was the best way to go.
The kiss broke off and the two women stood close, gazing into each other's eyes, bordering on the giddy with temptation, anticipation, their surging boldness and naughtiness. They sipped some more champagne, then drained their glasses and let them drop to the floor. They slid into an embrace and what built into a soulful, drawn-out French kiss.
"You're not wearing a stitch under that dress are you?" Rachel breathed, her hands roving up and down Sharon's back.
"No," Sharon answered, kissing across Rachel's incredibly smooth cheek. "You?"
"No," Rachel admitted. "God, do you believe us? No shame at all!"
"Less guilt that way," Sharon remarked, and took Rachel's earlobe between hot lips.
Rachel gurgled with soft laughter. "You wanton slut," she said, bringing her hands around and up between their bodies, curving her fingers with the shapes of Sharon's breasts. "I can't wait to get you naked."
"Stop talking about it and take me," Sharon said to that. "Do it!"
Rachel unhesitatingly pulled at the loose knots of Sharon's dress and watched it fall open. She touched light fingertips to the thickening tips of Sharon's breasts and slid them up the long slopes to her shoulders, going under the dress to push it off and hurry it down the slender arms.
Rachel moaned and smiled at Sharon. She leaned against Sharon with the front of her still-clad body, breasts to breasts, tummy to tummy, hips to hips, cosily sandwiching Sharon against the door. "I'm gonna do sweet things to you," she murmured and kissed Sharon voluptuously.
Sharon felt a fresh and potent excitement stirring insider her. The newness of being with a woman and the bold spice of it combined deliriously.
It was different from being with a man in more ways than that, too. With a man she was sure she would have felt guilt. She might even have backed out by now. Being with a woman didn't feel like cheating, somehow, like it would have with a guy. Maybe because she had only thought of infidelity in terms of having another man. Another woman just didn't fit in the picture.
Sharon felt herself letting go, surrendering to Rachel and her own sensuous nature. She slipped her hands onto the jutting shapes of Rachel's ass and squeezed hard into the packed flesh. She pulled Rachel's nether region closer to her own. She virtually sucked the probing end of Rachel's tongue onto her own and the two coiled together.
Sharon's surrender fed Rachel's hunger and roused her excitement. Kissing deeply into the other woman's hot mouth, she started tearing at her own clothing, managing to peel off the blouse and push down the skirt without breaking the embrace or separating their bodies very much at all.
Naked, the two women caressed each other with a surge of passion. It seemed to buckle Rachel's legs, and she sank onto her knees, sliding down Sharon's incredibly smooth skin. She buried her face between Sharon's cone-shaped tits. Her tongue swept out over the even smoother flesh of the inner curves. Her hands gripped the outer curves, thumbs working over and around the sensitive, responsive nipples.
Sharon shivered against the door, cradling Rachel's head in affectionate hands. It had been a while since she had felt so appreciated and lusted after. A girl needed that-among other things. And getting it from a woman like Rachel was getting it first class, and then some. Wild.
Arms wrapped around Sharon's mid-section, Rachel feasted on the erotic sumptuousness of Sharon's breasts. Hands out of the way, she sucked well onto each jutting peak, cramming her mouth again and again with aroused tit-flesh.
Then she started moving downward. She licked with long strokes of her tongue and her kisses sucked at the front of Sharon's body as if the woman was made of pure cane sugar. She couldn't seem to get enough. But she was sure moving in the right direction.
Rachel's ass sank toward her hells as she mouthed her way down toward Sharon's cunt. Her knees crept forward between Sharon's feet, until Sharon lifted her right leg and draped it over Rachel's shoulder.
Shoulders and head against the door, Sharon bucked forward. She pushed her pussy mound against Rachel's mouth, rocking her hips sideways to grate against the woman's lips and tongue. Her pussy was starting to cry for attention.
Ass on heels, body upright, Rachel brought her hands down and under to cradle Sharon's ass in her spread, clutching fingers. Having to scrunch down only slightly, she fit her open mouth on Sharon's out-tilted pussy. Licking hotly at the outer folds, she squeezed the asscheeks as if to wring juices out of Sharon's excited loins.
"Mmmmmmm, that's good," Sharon breathed. "Mmmmmm," she repeated in lustful appreciation.
"Love your pussy," Rachel groaned into Sharon's tumid folds between salacious licks. "I could eat you up."
"Do it," Sharon whispered huskily.
Rachel kissed Sharon's pussy and spread her lips to suck her there. Then she ran her tongue over the hot surface. Concentrating the tip on the upper zone of Sharon's outer twat, she pressed in and sideways to tongue erotically over the woman's erect clit.
Standing on one leg, body arched outward, Sharon twitched her hips against the motions of Rachel's tongue, rubbing her burning pleasure center hard on the mouth of her wondrous lady love with unabashed lust.
Rachel giggled in delight over Sharon's eager responses to her caresses. She ducked a little lower, tilted her head back, and slid her tongue tip in between Sharon's lips. She pressed her probe into the spongy, smooth lining, prying it erotically open.
Sharon's voice erupted with a soft but heartfelt cry of delight. Her head turned from side to side, eyes closed, as if in the throes of a wild dream. Her stunning face contorted into masks of arousal and pleasure and carnal wonder.
The lust was awakened inside Rachel, and its hunger would not be sated until she had tasted the simmering juices of Sharon's climax, until Sharon was a quivering mass of spent arousal in front of her.
Rachel thrust her tongue deeper into Sharon's tingling lining. She retreated and stroked deep, penetrating Sharon over and over again, thrusting pleasure into the woman's system. Her hands opened to rub Sharon's ass and to fondle the firm flesh.
Sharon's hands came up to her breasts and she touched herself with bold, lewd caresses. She tilted her pelvis farther back and swirled her steamy crotch at Rachel's feeding mouth. She angled her lower leg across Rachel's back and drew the woman tighter to her hot hole.
Rachel drew her right hand from Sharon's asscheek and turned it so that the forefinger was centered in the deep, damp crack. Her upturned thumb-tip slipped into Sharon's pussy, under her tongue, and she pushed it all the way in.
Moving her tongue up to Sharon's clit Rachel rubbed from side to side on the engorged bud while hunching her thumb in and out of the crying tunnel. Her finger moved with short sawing motions in Sharon's anus, adding just a little extra tickle of stimulation.
It was an assault of sensuality and Sharon could feel herself becoming overwhelmed faster and faster. A fantastic energy was spreading out and climbing through her body, her climax rushing to its full flower. It was throwing itself full speed inside her!
The tingling rush reached the limits of Sharon's endurance and a heartbeat later the first throb of her ultimate pleasure unleashed itself. It was followed by another and another, the intense feelings of joy and release crashing through her spasming, shaking body, playing out through her shivering thighs. Her hips jerked to and fro, rudely and sexily hunching her climaxing cooze at Rachel's gobbling mouth and stroking hand.
Sharon's right foot dropped back onto the floor and her weakened legs gave out. Her ass fell back against the door and she slid down the panel to a seat on the floor, knees up and legs spread to either side of Rachel's kneeling body. Her hands remained on her breasts, holding the tingling cones of flesh firmly, as if to contain the simmering energy that continued to run through them and her cooling body. She sighed in aftermath, opening dreamy eyes onto Rachel's smiling face, breaking into a grin of her own as Rachel licked her dew-smeared lips.
"Where did you learn that?" Sharon wanted to know, after finding her voice again.
"I didn't go to college for nothing," Rachel said and leaned forward to sweetly smooch with Sharon for a moment or two. Sharon's hands went naturally to Rachel's full breasts and she found the nipples were firm.
"Lie back," Sharon said to Rachel. "Let me see what I can do."
"Better that you catch your breath first," Rachel said. "More champagne?"
"If you insist."
Rachel picked up the dropped glasses, stood and went to the bucket for a refill. Sharon watched her every move, running her eyes over the other woman's voluptuous body and stylishly coiffed hair and beautiful face. She wondered if she was going to fall in love. Lust had definitely fallen into place.
Rachel came back and knelt again in front of Sharon, between the carelessly spread shanks. She handed Sharon her glass and both women drank thirstily.
"Happy?" Rachel asked.
"Happy," Sharon acknowledged. "Although it sure isn't what I anticipated from married life."
"I guess we were both a little naive, going in. But it's kinda late to go back now. And do we really want to?"
"I don't. Hell, I'm happily married-when he's around. It's the in-betweens that get to me."
"A woman's gotta take care of herself when her man isn't doing it for her."
They drank to that, shared a naughty giggle when their eyes met, then they drained their glasses. Sharon put her goblet aside on the floor and sat up. She took Rachel's glass and set it down next to her own.
.I'Now lady," Sharon purred, "I want you on your back. Right here on the floor.
"I think I can accommodate you." Rachel said to that.
Leaning back, she settled onto her elbows. Her long legs kicked up and extended to either side of Sharon, who was moving into a kneeling position.
Sharon went forward, dropping onto all fours over Rachel. She nuzzled the woman's cheek, trailed her lips across it until she found Rachel's lips, then applied a soft, open kiss.
In the back of her mind Sharon wondered which game would prove more challenging and enjoyable-taking a husband or making do afterward without him finding out about it? Or maybe they were both part of the same game, a game played out by countless women all over, all the time.
The game was the same, but the women weren't. Some were cold-blooded gold-diggers. Some wanted to give a little more. Some wanted traditional marriages but somehow came up short. Some just weren't satisfied no matter what they had. Some were a combination of all of it.
Sharon wondered which category she fit into. She couldn't say. Sometimes one, or two, or all or none. All she knew was that she loved her husband but needed the companionship and fun that he couldn't give her. He had everything he wanted. Why shouldn't she?
Her tongue fluttering and tickling down the line of Rachel's throat, Sharon went into a crouch and licked her way onto Rachel's sumptuously endowed chest. Hunger gnawed at her system, and she wanted to bite into the succulent orbs.
She put trembly hands on them and pushed the fleshy masses closer together. The thick nipples seemed to strain upward. She touched the right one with her tongue tip, then the left, and the knotty nipples strained higher. She went back to the right nipple and gobbled the hot tit-peak into the sucking wet warmth of her mouth.
Deceiving Gene was the one thing that bothered Sharon. If he found out she might be able to get him to forgive her. But she didn't know how she could take away the hurt. She had made him a lot of promises. She had meant them at the time, but....
But what was a girl to do when left alone in the morning and confronted by someone like Rachel in the afternoon? It was no contest. No contest at all....
CHAPTER TWELVE
Their afternoon together was not a one time thing for Sharon and Rachel, but neither did it become part of a regular routine. At least at first. Once every other week or so became once a week. Then, after sharing a matinee on a Monday, they found themselves back together in the same motel bed on a Friday.
"This is getting out of hand," Sharon said as she lay resting, entwined with Rachel. "We're seeing too much of each other. It's getting dangerous, marriage-wise, and maybe emotionally. We should find a hobby or something to fill our time with."
"I think we've found it," Rachel remarked.
"I'm serious."
"So am I. What can you think of that would be more fun, or more relaxing?"
"I can just picture myself explaining that to Gene."
"All Gene wants is a warm woman there when he gets home. Give him that, and be discreet in your private life, and you'll never have to explain anything."
"You mean I'll stay 'happily' married."
"You have your good moments, don't you?"
"Yeah, when he forgets about the office ... I expected more."
"So did I. But life is full of compromises. And to tell the truth, I think I've got it pretty good."
"I suppose I do too. It's just that, well, I guess I have an old-fashioned streak."
"What're you going to do? Divorce Gene and start over? Pick out another dreamboat and try to win him?"
"No, I'm sticking with Gene, for better, worse or indifferent. If I can't get him to be more of a husband then maybe I can find some compensation that doesn't make me feel like a less than worthy wife. No offense intended."
"You are old-fashioned," Rachel observed. "Or are you just afraid of getting caught?"
"Both."
"Then how did you end up here, with me?"
"That's a good question," Sharon had to admit. "And what are you gong to do right now? Leave?"
"Not just yet."
"And what would you do if I picked up the phone right now, and called Rusty, and asked him to join us?"
Sharon lifted her head and looked into Rachel's eyes. The woman was serious.
"He still looks after the place for Gil and I," Rachel said. "And I've had a chance to reconsider him lately. He does have a certain charm. And I think he and you and I could have a very interesting chemistry together."
"God," Sharon exclaimed. "Calling you shameless is an understatement!"
"Are you with me?" Rachel asked temptingly.
Erotic visions had already started flashing across Sharon's mind. Heavenly promises filled Rachel's eyes. Sharon thought about the things she had just been talking to Rachel about, how fooling around like this could wreck her marriage and made her feel less worthy of Gene and went against her grain. But somehow these thoughts now spoke in quieter voices, until in very short order they had no voice at all....
Sharon swallowed. "The three of us? Together?"
Rachel answered Rusty's knock on the door without bothering to put any clothes on. She opened the door wide enough to allow him to slip into the room and closed and locked it again.
His eyes went to Sharon. She was stomach down on the rumpled bed, somewhat diagonally across it with elbows near the foot. She wasn't dressed for his arrival either.
"Fancy seeing you again," Rusty remarked in a friendly tone.
"Hello, Rusty," she responded, feeling a warm stirring deep down inside, beginning to feel that chemistry Rachel had mentioned.
Rachel took Rusty by a hand and led him closer to the foot of the bed. She learned over to kiss him on the cheek and said, "Why don't you get undressed so we can give you a proper welcome?" She slipped from his side and moved onto the bed, lying down next to Sharon, propping herself up on her elbows too, their shoulders touching.
Without question, without hesitation, but not rushing, Rusty got out of his clothes. He seemed to soak up their lusting attention and thrive on it.
Sharon thought, 'This is too much. This is going too far.' She had a man in her life. She didn't need another. She could fool around with Rachel because she was a woman and that made it, well, different. But cheat on Gene with another guy? That went over a line she didn't want to cross.
Unfortunately that fact was lost in the fog of Sharon's temptation and consumed by her ravenous libido. And something more. She hadn't sought Rusty out for this. It wouldn't be just her and Rusty. Instead it was part of her affair with Rachel, something that was growing out of that. Something she and Rachel wanted to enjoy together. Not something that she and Rusty would be sharing, at least beyond the sexual level. This made it seem less like cheating than it could have been. Rachel put some distance between Sharon and Rusty, and the purely sexual involvement kept him even farther away. It was infidelity without a sharp or cutting edge, and she was taking.
Sharon and Rachel watched Rusty get undressed with an almost giddy excitement. They exchanged glances with one another and squirmed excitedly on the wide bed.
Naked, his cock filling out and rising in front of him, he came onto the bed on his knees and moved toward them. His wagging cockshaft was at eye-level. They stared at it in open hunger as he drew closer.
Sharon and Rachel leaned forward on their elbows and stuck out soft, caressing tongues. One to each side of his rising pecker, they licked over the shaft from the purple glans to the solid, thick base, burying their noses in his wiry bush, stroking the soft skin it grew out of.
As if working with the same mind, they worked their tongue tips down to the underside of the cock-base. They scrunched down an inch or two with a cheek against each thigh and flicked their tickling tongues at his balls. The shaft of his cock filled out and hardened into a virile angle against their other cheeks, throbbing against their incredibly smooth skin.
Rachel opened her mouth and her lips spread around Rusty's right testicle. She drew it into her mouth with soft suction. A heartbeat later his other ball disappeared into the wet warmth of Sharon's mouth. Their faces burrowed more snugly up against his crotch and they laved his nuts with delicate but highly stimulating suction.
Relinquishing his balls at last, they licked back up around the base of his prick. Parting lips again, they started brushing out along the rigid rod, tongues working against the sides of the shaft with scraping softness.
The tips of their noses touched and they opened their eyes to slits, sultry gazes meeting in shared naughtiness and enjoyment. Thinking very much alike, they spread their lips wider around Rusty's cock until they were able to touch. Together they slid out to his glans and back to his base, whereupon their bold raunchiness caused both women to crack up with illicit laughter. Grinning shamelessly, they licked to and fro on Rusty's shaft.
Rachel was the first to back off far enough to confront Rusty's organ straight on. Her glassy eyes were on his glans in a speculative manner for a second or two. Then her tongue slipped out and brushed up and over the dripping tip.
Sharon leaned in from her side and with their cheeks touching she too licked over the tip of Rusty's hard-on. She went a step further and kissed the soft-pointed, hard-backed glans. Rusty's cock gave a jerk of excitement against Sharon's lips and throbbed thickly before the flushed faces of the two women.
Rachel's head went forward on her slender neck, her mouth opening. Her lips brushed over the swollen cockhead and onto the shaft, continuing forward in the same motion to inhale most of the long, thick rod.
Her lips clamped down with a gentle firmness, her stretched cheeks sunk inward, and she pulled her head back. She slid up to Rusty's cockhead with a long, slow, serious suck, then took a breath and lunged forward onto him again.
Sharon watched in fascination as Rachel turned her head from side to side and twisted her throat onto Rusty's cock. Rachel had taken all of him, and was holding the cocklength in the snug grasp of her warm, wet mouth for what seemed like an eternity.
Rusty inhaled sharply and deeply above them. His body wavered his hips struggling to hold still and not break the incredible contact.
Rachel seemed to go soft and started to slide from Rusty's hard-on. She washed her mouth over his reddened shaft, velvet lips holding tight and licking him clean. Slipping over his glans ridge, she shaped her lips into a pucker and Frenched him.
Like two girls sharing a fun new toy, Rachel and Sharon snuggled closer together on the bed, each slipping a free arm around the other. They let their legs mingle and glued their bright, shiny eyes to Rusty's privates.
Sharon caught the tip of his extended cock-meat with her tongue and drew it over an inch, then slid her mouth onto it. She grooved her mouth toward his base and pulled back before reaching it, then went all the way with an effortless lunge. She didn't hold him in her throat as long as Rachel had, but her retreat was slower.
Rachel watched Sharon. She kissed her on the cheek a time or two, and nibbled her earlobe. She wriggled her tongue tip across the smooth cheek to Rusty's cockhead when it reappeared and both women licked and kissed at his flared knob.
Rachel scooped Rusty's cock into her mouth again and stroked over it with clinging lips and a sliding tongue. She sucked on the out-strokes and pumped him at least a dozen times in quick succession.
Then it was Sharon's turn. She took over from Rachel without missing a beat. She rocked her head to twist her mouth over Rusty's pecker as she fellated him. He throbbed with an ever-deepening arousal.
The pleasure for Sharon and Rachel was in being together and sharing their toy, and the lascivious feelings and actions it sparked in them. Bringing in Rusty had added a very special and very illicit spice to their affair. And they had only begun to taste the fun that was now there to be had!
Her body moving against Sharon's, Rachel slithered her mouth onto Rusty's prick once more. At the same time Sharon strained forward and scooped both of his nuts into her mouth. Lips moving and pressing in on his groin, she ran her tongue over and around his sac between soft, sucking caresses.
"You're gonna make a big mess if you keep this up," Rusty said in an unsteady voice.
"We don't mind a mess," Rachel replied, turning her head to look up at him with a cheek against his cock, "as long as it's made in the right place."
"Where's that?" Rusty asked.
"Someplace deep," she answered. "Very deep."
"I'm ready."
"So am I," she said. She turned her head to face Sharon over his cock-length. "Are you ready?" she asked, holding her eyes on Sharon's as she dipped her tongue out and idled the tip on the pulsing prick.
"More than you are, I'll bet," Sharon answered.
"I don't know about that," Rachel played along.
"Oh, yes, I think so. Playing with his cock, being all sweet with you, I'm really wet."
"I've been here, too," Rachel countered.
"I'd be happy to settle the matter for you ladies," Rusty volunteered.
"Okay Rusty," Rachel said. "We'll trust your judgement."
It was delicious, kinky fun, and it was getting raunchier by the minute. Sharon and Rachel separated from one another, bouncing up onto their knees and turning their backs to Rusty, then dropping forward onto straight arms, arching their bodies downward to untuck their pussies from between their legs, offering themselves to Rusty's assessing techniques, and more good clean dirty fun.
He positioned himself with one knee between each set of lower legs, his cooling hard-on aimed between two narrowly separated neighboring hips. He was confronted with two exposed and waiting pussies, one to either side, one for each hand.
Sharon and Rachel wriggled their bodies enticingly for him. They moaned in delight when he slipped light fingers down the cleft of their upturned asses onto the folds of their steamy privates.
Then, with the tip of each middle finger, he eased into their wet slits. His fingertips tickled up and down, seeking the smaller inner openings to their humid tunnels.
Rusty probed inward one joint at a time, as if to stir inside Rachel and Sharon in testing fashion. He worked all the way in like that, taking careful measures of their excitement levels. Then he stroked quickly in and out a few times.
Sharon moaned. Rachel groaned and slid her hands well forward to stretch out. She writhed in arousal, Sharon squirming in similar fashion next to her.
It was strange for Sharon to feel another man's touch after her commitment to Gene had supposedly ruled that idea taboo forever. But it was like an unexpected visit from an old friend. She didn't have the heart to turn it away. It was too late for that now.
"Too close to call," Rusty announced presently, running his fingers in and out of their wet, hugging channels anyway, just in case something gave. "At least, as far as this method goes."
"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Rachel groaned. She looked back over a shoulder at him with a slyly knowing expression. "Got another method in mind?"
"The tongue is pretty sensitive," he answered. "That might work."
Rachel's eyes went to Sharon, and she winked. She slid her hands forward and lowered onto her elbows, leaning away from Rusty and keeping her backside up in the air to give him easier access to her cunt.
Sharon followed Rachel's lead, wanting to share in the woman's every pleasure, and definitely not wanting to spoil any of the fun by letting the fact that she was married interfere. Even though the fact was nagging at her a little more now, for some reason.
Rusty sank back onto his heels behind Sharon and Rachel. His hands slipped underneath to rest against their pussy mounds.
He bowed forward, his tongue coming out and taking aim at Rachel's raised pussy. He softly buried his face in her clefted crotch with his nose snuggled between her ass-cheeks and wriggled his probe into her steamy snatch.
Rachel gasped and then shivered body, her face becoming a mask of excitement. One look and Sharon yearned to have her turn. She rocked back and forth and wriggled against Rusty's caressing hand, stirring her own juices and trying to draw his attention.
Her turned to her finally, after taking a thorough taste test of Rachel's level of excitement. Sharon thrilled to the press of his face on the rim of her privates and his hot breath steaming the deep furrow of her ass, heating her already tingling cheeks.
His tongue seemed to pour into the soft openness of her pussy. He wriggled and flicked it about, scooped in and out, giving her a rise of pleasure that culminated in a shudder of joy. It was enough to make her forget all about Gene. For the moment.
Sharon's conscience and her libido were involved in a kind of race, each vying to get the better of her first, and keep it. It was neck and neck.
Rusty pulled from Sharon's twat and sat back on his heels, continuing to rub his fingers over the furry parts of the pussies in front of him. "I still can't decide," he went on teasing them. "Ithink I'm gonna have to bring out the more sensitive equipment."
"Me first," Rachel breathed, swaying her backside in a most tempting manner.
"No," Sharon groaned, moving her raised posterior from side to side. "Me."
"Sorry, cutie," he said to Sharon. "Not fast enough."
Up on his knees, he moved in between Rachel's parted lower legs. She pushed herself back up toward him. He put his cock in line with her pussy and before she knew it she was sliding onto the hard pole. It took her by surprise, and when she stopped to catch her breath he shoved forward, burying his cockshaft inside her tight, cushiony sheath. Taking a deep breath, Rachel unabashedly crooned her enjoyment.
One thing about Rachel, she didn't seem to be having any problems enjoying herself with Rusty. She didn't need the presence of another woman to help legitimize or rationalize or excuse what she was doing. Sharon didn't know if it came from sophistication or shallowness or selfishness or what. She only knew that Rachel had it and she didn't. 'I shouldn't be doing this,' she kept thinking....
Perhaps to compensate for giving Rachel the pleasure of his prick first, Rusty put two fingers together, reached over and slid them into Sharon's heated-up cunt. Thrusting his hips back and forth behind Rachel, he frigged his fingers in and and out behind Sharon.
'I shouldn't be enjoying this either,' Sharon kept thinking, a guilty smile on her sweet lips. Getting both hands under her, she pushed up and back at Rusty's stroking hand and wriggled her encouragement.
Rusty delved into Rachel's pussy over and over, with slow, testing probes on the in-stroke with a quick retreat to start over again. He really did seem to be trying to gauge her arousal with his prick. At the same time, though, he was building on it with the smooth thrusts of his prick and that was the part she was interested in.
"Pretty hot," Rusty announced finally, and pulled from Rachel's snatch. "Now let's see how the other half is coming along."
With Rachel's complaining groan in he air, Rusty took his fingers from Sharon's twat and moved into position behind her. With the same playful probing he had shown Rachel he sank into Sharon's slick, spongy box. He reached out with his other hand and started giving Rachel the two-finger treatment, compensating her for the loss of his prick.
Sharon was moaning expectantly. Married or not, she had been made to want and need the caresses of his hard, deep-reaching cock. Not that it surprised her. There were parts of a woman where her conscience just didn't go. Sometimes.
Sharon synchronized herself with Rusty's motions, lurching forward as he retreated, then easing back with a patient, drawn-out slowness as he "probed" into her heated twat. She liked the game he was playing with them and wanted to indulge in it as much as she could. She didn't want the scene, or her infidelity, to feel too serious.
Sharon dropped back down onto her elbows. She hooked her feet over the backs of Rusty's lower legs, holding him in place behind her. At least, that was her intention.
"Aaahhh," Rusty said with the tone of discovery. "She doesn't want to give me up. She's even ready to put up a fight over it. Now, that's hot!"
"Do I win?" Sharon asked, beginning to rock back and forth on Rusty's pumping prick more freely.
"I think you do."
"Do I get to cum first?"
"Absolutely!"
"Save some for me," Rachel cut in with a warning for Rusty. She eyed him over a shoulder.
"You'll get yours," he said to her. "In due time."
Rachel bowed low on the bed, pressing one cheek on her crossed forearms, ass high in the air with Rusty's fingers sawing in and out of her twat, resigning herself with a sigh to a bit of a wait. Her smoky gaze settled on Sharon, and she watched the woman cruising through her pleasure zone.
Rusty let got of the reins and started to stroke into Sharon's cunt tunnel with growing eagerness. She rocked to and fro, keeping up to his pace. Her tits swung freely under her. Ripples hurried out through her asscheeks each time they collided with his on-going hips. Her excitement grew and grew, filling her body with its rich tingling effect.
She gasped with each fresh jolt of heightened arousal and crooned her enjoyment all the way through. The friction in her twat had her on fire, and her system was about to explode with climactic fury.
Her fingers clutched at the bedding and her toes curled. She panted with gasping sounds as she found herself at the brink. Cries of release welled up out of her, piercing the air with their sharp, clear tones of pure ecstasy.
Waves of sensation rolled through her with ruthless force, and at first it seemed they would not stop. Her pussy went into spasms, deep inside, and her body shook, her nether region spasming and twitching and shivering as if trying to break apart.
At last her orgasm passed and she fell into the comforting grip of aftermath. She softened, sinking into the bedding, slipping off Rusty's hard-on. She vaguely felt him move away from her, to Rachel, but didn't miss him a bit. She slithered down into her tingling contentment and rested in it.
She was glad it had happened, but she was glad it was over, too. It had been good, but something about it hadn't been right. The more her mind worked on it, in fact, the less right it seemed.
It was funny. Rachel had thought a threesome with Rusty would keep Sharon on the illicit course she had been taking. That doubling the fun of it would deepen her interest. But just the opposite was happening. Instead of feeling lured or excited, she felt repelled, even chased away. It was as if she were sent back to where she belonged (and had alw'ays known she belonged), but hadn't had the gumption or the resolve or the clear-headedness to fully accept it.
Sharon hadn't set out to win Gene just so she could wind up fooling around behind his back. Okay, so the marriage was going to take more of a commitment than she had originally thought. She had run from the tougher-than-anticipated challenge of being his wife, but that was over. It had to be.
Because if she didn't start facing that challenge now she knew she never would, and eventually she would lose Gene, somehow. And that would mean it had all been for nothing.
Rachel's plan had almost worked. Had come awfully close, in fact. In years to come Sharon would shiver when she thought of how close she had come to utter corruption.
What had saved her was her initial commitment to Gene, half-hearted as it had been, and knowing what was best for her in the long run. Also maybe a streak of plain old-fashionedness had helped to redeem her too.
She had been afraid of going to Gene and saying there were problems, not wanting to bring him down or something like that. More likely, though, she was afraid that it wouldn't do any good. But discovering where she really stood helped her see where Gene was coming from. She knew he would listen. She knew that after losing Rachel he would want to make this marriage work.
Which made two of them.
Which made a change. Until now the game had been hers alone. She had been pulling the strings, making all the moves, getting what she wanted.
But marriage was a game for two, so a change was appropriate. And good.
A game for two. It had a nice ring to it.
Sharon couldn't wait to get home. Away from here, at least. She wondered if she could slip out of the room unnoticed.
