When he came through the front door and into the living room, John Wister sensed that something new and different had happened during his two-day absence. His lovely young wife, Carla had done something to her hair, for one thing.
"Darling!" she said, gliding forward to greet him.
She wore lounging pajamas that limned every contour of her delectable figure, and he noticed that her makeup was perfection. It drew attention to her expressive brown eyes and fullish mouth. He couldn't quite pinpoint the change, but it stirred him, aroused his curiosity.
Her kiss of welcome surprised him, too. Not the quiet peck which he usually received, but a clingy, full-mouthed contact. Of course she didn't pour it oft too much, as her girl friend, Susan Al-ward, watched from the sofa where the two had obviously been seated before he came in.
Susan had come up from California for a visit. She was single, extremely shy, but Carla enjoyed her company and had tried to persuade Susan to stay on in Linton. The girls had gone through school together and had remained close friends for years.
"I heard you drive up, darling," Carla said, breathless. "I was hoping you'd get back tonight-"
He decided that that comment sounded promising, too. He and Carla had had difficulties lately. She had cooled in her responses, for one thing. In spite of his attempts to woo her in different ways, she was settling into a rather dull routine of bedroom activity.
It had been bothering him. He felt that it shouldn't happen, not after only two years of marriage....
John released his wife, and he smiled at Susan. She smiled back, in her demure manner. He observed that Susan looked better now, too. Her dark brown hair glistened in the subdued light, and her makeup seemed vastly improved since he had seen her last, two days earlier when he had gone to Spokane on business.
John had been keenly aware of her attractions ever since she had come to visit. She was a bit heavier than Carla, but all in the right places. There was a certain resemblance between the girls. Before this, Susan had tried to hide her fine figure in conservative frocks and dresses. Now she seemed to have blossomed out, so to speak. Her short billowy skirt was shorter than usual, displaying sleekly nyloned legs that drew his eyes.
Her blouse had sweet lines, too. In fact, John had trouble keeping his attention on his own wife, Carla. He hadn't really noticed how slender Susan's waist was, how attractive she could be if she wanted to.
"You both look terrific!" he said, grinning.
"Good!" Carla bubbled, her hand on his arm. "Susan and I went to a grooming consultant, darling ... I'm glad you noticed!"
He scratched his head, in mock astonishment. "Grooming consultant-?"
"It's a new place in Clyde's, downtown, darling," Carla went on. She ran her fingers through her smoothly-waved blonde hair. "I thought you'd appreciate the change...."
"Sure do!" he said.
Carla took his jacket and hung it in the closet by the front door.
"Hungry, darling?" she asked, flirtily.
"Not for food," he answered, looking down at her.
The top of her lounging pajamas cradled her breasts, enticingly. Even her perfume seemed a more tantalizing fragrance.
Carla laughed, and John noticed that Susan blushed, lightly. His wife seemed like an altogether different girl.
"It's late," Susan murmured, rising. "I think I'll turn in."
"Oh, not yet!" Carla protested.
"I'll see you in the morning, kids," Susan added.
John bade her good-night and watched Susan disappear along the hallway toward the guest bedroom. The fact that Susan never had been married, at the age of twenty-three, had bothered him ever since she had come to visit.
If she wasn't so retiring and so hesitant, he knew she would get a lot more kick out of life-and maybe a few boy friends. He knew now for sure, after seeing her in well-fitting clothes and wearing modern make-up, that she had all the come-hither assets that made men drool.
A ripely plump body, really amazing breasts ... Her features were good. Full mouth, deep brown eyes ... Something wrong there-a lot of girl going to waste ... She was a really fine legal secretary, and she made good money.
"Sit down and relax a while, darling," Carla murmured, drawing him to the sofa.
He grinned. "You're in a good mood tonight, doll."
"I've missed you, John," she said, leaning nearer. "Do I really look better?"
"Wonderful," he said, sliding his arm around her. He hadn't done any partying on his last selling trip, and he had to admit he had missed female companionship, himself.
She giggled, nibbling his ear-lobe. She whispered, "I'm going to be a better wife, darling."
He experienced a quick rise of interest, and of passion. "You been reading a book or something, doll?"
"Maybe...."
Well!
He began unbuttoning the snug pajama top. She sighed, turning-and held her mouth up to his. He came down on her, hungrily. He felt her lips soften, begin to open. This was almost like in the earlier days when they had been going together ... Carla had been plenty responsive in those days. An only daughter of fairly wealthy parents, he had suspected she had been spoiled a bit-but at least she had come to him as a virgin....
He had the pajama top open all the way down, and she still wasn't protesting, telling him to wait, or that they might make too much noise with company in the house. Tonight she seemed really eager.
John slid his hand inside the gaping material. He cradled the resilient mounds now exposed for his pleasure. Her bra was new and very skimpy-he experienced a jolt of desire as he traced the outline of her jutting breasts, feeling the nipples respond to his finger-searchings.
He pressed her mouth harder, sliding his tongue out, experimentally. She accepted it, her lips parting to let him inside. In fact, her own tongue began to flutter, in return.
Something had sure as hell come over her-she was hotter than he ever had remembered. A better wife, eh? Maybe she had been taking lessons!
Now that she was acting the way he had been wanting her to for a long time, he found himself getting suspicious. Was Susan as naive and shy as she let on?
He let the question ride as the pleasure of the moment began to overwhelm him. No need to miss a chance like this, even with one's own wife!
He reached around and unhooked Carla's bra. She sighed, wiggling nearer. Finally, he lifted his mouth from her fragrant lips, delighting in the feel of her bare, jutting breasts. The nipples were stiffening against his palm.
"Mmmmmmm-" she whispered, into his mouth. "It's been such a long time, darling...."
How long had it been? At least a week. She had a cold a few days before his departure-and she had protested that Susan might hear them. The guest bedroom was just across the hall from theirs.
Carla wasn't reaching for the light switch or covering herself, either. He liked to see her naked and she never had given him many chances, always managing to keep something over her figure, even in the bedroom.
A strange transformation had taken place. It worried him.
He left her breasts and ran his hand along her snugly-encased thighs. She spread them a bit! Her mouth came up for more kisses.
Her lips were soft and trembly, now. He felt her shiver. Was she actually going to be willing enough to play around on the sofa, rather than in bed? He had had her a few times in the living room when they first had been married, hut not for a long time. Nearly two years!
Her tongue slid into his mouth, now, snaking around, excitingly. He cupped her breasts again, eagerly. The nipples were as hard as flint!
He played with them. He always had liked a lot of dalliance, and she very seldom went along with that. But tonight....
He left her mouth, at last, and kissed her throat. She shivered.
"Tease-me-real-good, darling...." she breathed.
That jolted him, too.
He found the zipper on her pajama bottoms, then she was helping him. A few wiggles, and the shimmery garment was a fragrant heap on the living room carpet. Her panties, he noticed, were not the chaste white she generally wore, but a sexy pink color, like her bra....
He could hardly believe she was responding so hotly. And he felt certain she wasn't pretending. He slipped inside her panties, against her warm, vibrant femininity.
"Ohhh, darling," she breathed, her fingers locking in his hair. "I'm so hot!"
He was tempted to do something he hadn't tried since their courting days-something Kinsey called 'petting to a climax.' There was lots of time. This was Friday evening, and he would be home all weekend. She might appreciate a thrill before they got down to cases in the bedroom....
He smiled to himself. Except for his jacket, his clothes still were on. Carla was lost in enjoyment, now. No need to make her wait....
He began to slip her panties off. She helped him. Except for slippers and the gaping pajama top, she was completely naked, now. His hands roamed along her thighs, then up to her sweetly-contoured hips.
Leaving her throat, where a furious pulse hammered, he began kissing lower. Her fingers in his hair urged him to continue.
He popped a rigid nipple into his mouth, where he titillated it with his tongue.
"Ohhhh, dar-ling!" she gasped. "Don't stop...."
Another thing he noticed that was different. She talked more than usual. Not that he minded. A buddy of his said he had a girl friend who talked all the time during the act, and it made his enjoyment all the keener. John saw no harm in his wife letting him know verbally that she was enjoying herself.
Now he kissed her other rigid nipple, kneading her soft flesh with his hand. Her hips began to respond in a maddening fashion.
But he had always prided himself on being able to use control when it was necessary, so now he didn't go ape and start tearing off clothes. Easy, John! he told himself.
"Ohhhh, darling! Do it now!" she cried.
He waited, tonguing her breasts. Carla writhed in a frenzy of wanting, her hips seeking, seeking....
"Ohhh-please-darling!"
He smiled to himself, enjoying this moment to the full. Then, slowly, he began to bring her nearer the crest.
Her fingers bit into his shoulders-she panted and pleaded for release. So he let her have it.
She cried out sharply, fiercly. "Oh-OH-OH-OHHHHHH!"
She shook in his arms, sweetly, as he felt wave after wave of passion surge through her body, until finally she began to relax, sighing.
"Ohhhh, John," she murmured at last. "You're wonderful, darling...."
He watched her lovely body, still exposed for his eyes, still warm and vibrant, at rest now after her violent release....
A subtle movement in the shadows of the hallway caught his eye. He was so startled that he nearly gave himself away. He kept his eyes on Carla, however, alert to the movement he had seen....
Then he knew what it was. Susan stood there in the deep shadows, near her bedroom. She had watched the whole exciting performance....
CHAPTER TWO
Susan Alward glided back into the guest bedroom, her cheeks flaming. She never had been so emotionally shaken in her life. She was glad the bedroom lay in darkness. That seemed to hide her shame, or at least part of it.
She didn't close the door, although she knew she should, in common decency.
Watching! Watching a strong, handsome husband play with his lovely wife....
She held her hands to her cheeks in a futile effort to stop the burning sensation there, and all through her body. A tingly ache raced from her loins to her breasts, and even her breathing was .uneven. As much as the vision had shocked her, she hadn't left. She had remained, rooted in her tracks....
I wish some handsome man would do that to me! But here I am, without even a boy friend to turn to.
She knew she should be going to bed, now. Carla and John would be, soon. Then she would hold her fingers over her ears to shut out what she knew would happen when they did get in bed.
Her thoughts went back to the conversation she and Carla had had that morning, over coffee.
"To get a man interested, you have to flirt a little," Carla said, smiling impishly.
"I've tried," Susan answered, weakly. "I know what happened years ago, honey," Carla said, sympathetically. "When that awful salesman tried to rape you. Is that the reason why you're so reluctant?"
Susan nodded, flushing.
"It was awful, honey, but you'll have to forget it. Listen, we'll go down today and take that new grooming lesson. I've already made an appointment."
"But-"
"No buts, honey. This fellow is really good, I hear. A new hairdo will perk you up!"
Susan smiled. She always had adored Carla. Carla seemed to understand. What fun she had had at school had been mostly Carla's doing, arranging dates and parties. When Susan had gone away to California to secretarial school, she had missed Carla very much. She had drawn back into her shell and just had marked time, as far as real living went. Men still frightened her. She knew she had ability and brains. The legal secretarial course had been a breeze for her, and she had landed a good job with one of the best attorneys in San Jose. The invitation to visit with Carla and John at Linton, during her vacation, had come as a godsend.
Now, in the quiet intimacy of the Wister kitchen, warmed by the coffee and by Carla's bright, bubbly friendship, Susan decided to bring up something she thought she never would trust herself to put into words.
"Carla, I need advice."
"Well, what about, honey? You know you can tell me!"
Susan looked away, out of the kitchen window. She tried not to blush. "I had a few dates at San Jose, but I guess I really don't understand flirting." Then she added, quickly. "Or else I'm-afraid!"
Carla smiled. "Honey, you have the looks and the figure. Just act interested, and if a man's got any umph at all, he'll do the rest. Say, while we're down town, we'll get you a new frock, something a little daring. You shouldn't hide your two best assets, honey!"
Susan flushed. Carla was looking at her breasts! Of course they were beneath her nightie and her robe, but Susan knew what her friend was talking about....
"Believe me, honey," Carla laughed. "Men like a girl with curves!"
Susan sipped more coffee to cover her confusion. "I wish I had as much confidence as you, Carla."
"I'll tell you what, honey. John'll be in tonight. Tomorrow night is Saturday. We'll plan a little party and maybe go dancing, or something. I know a man who'd jump at the chance to take you out!"
"Who?" Susan asked, quickly.
"Oh-you don't know him. It'll be a surprise."
"But-"
"Let me handle it, honey. While you're here you've got to circulate a little. Let some of the local boys know you're around-and available!"
Susan thrilled at the prospect until her innate shyness returned. She didn't protest, though. It probably would be a bust like all of her other attempts to turn from a girl into a woman. But she didn't want to disappoint Carla.
Susan had to admit rather guiltily that she had found John very attractive, but that was terribly wrong, and she knew she would have to stop thinking about it. Casting secretive glances at her best girl friend's husband!
"I suppose you're excited about John being home tonight," Susan said, experiencing a guilty twinge of envy.
"Well-natch, honey! We haven't hit it off too well lately, but I'm going to treat him better-I really am!"
Not getting along too well....
Susan let another guilty thought dance through her mind. She knew that John could overcome her shyness and awaken her. The way he glanced at her occasionally, kidding her about her figure ... Stop it! she cautioned herself, severely. John was older, more assured. Carla had said he was thirty, but he certainly didn't look it. That engaging smile, his virility! Susan experienced another sharp stab of envy.
Now, standing alone in the darkened guest bedroom, these memories returned to Susan. Carla had treated her husband better, or at least he had treated her. Now it was Carla's turn to please him!
Susan wondered if she could permit some man to caress her the way John had played with Carla. She blushed again! And the conversation! Her ears still burned!
Being around John, the way she had the past few days, living in the same house with him, even as a guest, she knew that she would welcome his advances-if it wasn't so wrong. There was that word again-
She had learned something, though. She never had seen anything so sexy and abandoned in her life. What she had witnessed would give her limited experience, at least, even if it was second-hand.
Susan turned and dared another look out into the living room. Carla stood in front of John, completely naked!
"That was really fun, John!" Carla laughed. "Remember that time we were parked out in front of our house, when we were going together?"
"Sure, doll! But you wouldn't take your panties off!"
"You got my blouse open, though."
"And your bra off, remember?" he kidded.
"Mmmmmmmm, yes, I remember, darling. It was the first time I ever let any man kiss-these."
Susan watched Carla's hands rise to her jutting breasts, lifting them out toward her husand!
Susan's ears rang. The suggestive conversation made her tremble. Her fingers tightened on the door-sill. Her own breasts felt too snug inside her bra.
"I slipped inside your panties, too," John continued, smiling up at his wife.
Carla giggled. "Natch! And how could I ever forget that, darling!"
Susan watched Carla wiggle sinuously, beginning to unbutton John's shirt. When she had it off, with his help, her hands began running over his chest, caressing his nipples!
"After you got that far, I didn't care what happened," Carla went on, flirtily. "You really sent me! I remember I bit your lip and it was all swelled up for days!"
John's laugh, throaty and masculine, was like a stab in Susan's body. She watched his hand play along Carla's thighs, drifting upward, while she weaved around in front of him, and when Carla gave a little excited cry, Susan nearly lost her grip on the door-sill.
"Ohhhh-John-honey ... that's good!" Susan shuddered and tore her eyes away. Oh, how she wished John would do that to her! She bit her lip, as tears welled in her eyes. Was Carla so reckless all the time? Not the way she had hinted, but she had said she was going to be 'good' to John.
In spite of the date Carla had lined up for her the next evening, Susan had a wild impulse to leave before that happened. She would go back to California, to her small apartment, and try to build a new perspective about men.
However, she knew she wouldn't. A mounting curiosity held her. She found herself hoping that Carla and John would stay in the lighted living room, so she could see everything. Somehow she had to learn what was expected of her, in case her date appealed to Her, in case he was masculine and clever enough to coax her along the rosebud path to fulfillment. Susan peeked out again.
John was completely naked, now! Instinctively, her eyes sought and found his masculinity. A tremor went through her body. She had seen a lot of men on beaches with nothing but snug swim suits on, but she never had seen one naked, exposed, like this!
She was entranced. Her breasts ached with desire. Her thighs were warm; she was breathing deeply, as though she were about to receive his ardor instead of Carla.
Carla stood in front of him, now. He was seated on the sofa. Carla giggled and swayed her hips, invitingly. Susan's hands were moist on the door-sill, as she watched.
"Want me now, darling?" Carla asked, flirtily.
"You'll have to come and get it, doll," he said, grinning at her.
Carla weaved nearer. Suddenly John reached out and pulled her into his lap. She squealed girlishly, squirming around.
In the tangle of very white soft legs against hard lean tanned ones, with John's hand now on Carla's jutting breasts, there was a moment of suspense that seemed to reach all the way inside Susan and sear her like fire.
Carla gave a little, panting cry and settled down in John's lap! Slowly.
They were going to do it right in the living room!
Susan clapped her hands over her ears, staggering toward the bed. She tried to keep from hearing the little grunts of pleasure, the excited exclamations that came from the sofa.
Susan crawled onto the guest bed, trembling. She didn't have to see the rest. Her imagination pictured it clearly enough, Too clearly!
"It's-going to be-real good, darling...." Carla cried.
Susan couldn't hear John's answer. "Ohhh-honey-don't make me-wait...." pierced Susan's ears like a fiery lance. Then John's husky, throaty laugh. The sounds, especially the soft swoosh of the sofa springs, were tearing Susan apart. But her hands no longer covered her ears. She was in a half swoon, now, hearing them enjoying themselves, their passion rising, as wave after wave of desire chased through her loins and up around her rigid breasts.
Susan's hands tore at the top of her nightie, bringing her aching breasts out into her trembling fingers.
"Oh-John! I'm starting ... J
"Reach hard, sugar!" he answered.
"OHHHHH-.Honey-go-with me-please!"
A few seconds of silence as the sighing of the springs halted. Susan, on the bed, her legs writhing, her breasts tingly, spread her thighs suddenly and opened her mouth.
Waves of pleasure chased along her body, curling about her, deliciously.
"OHHHHH-NOW!" came joltingly to Susan's ears.
And as she heard John's hoarse cry, and the sofa springs danced in a frenzy, Susan's own body convulsed, vibrated and seemed to explode with exquisite sensation that she never knew existed-anywhere.
Her fingers dug into the counterpane, her hips jerked. Now, in fantasy, John was above Susan, giving her what Carla was receiving.
A fierce, wild cry burst from her throat. She trmebled and shook in a wrenching, almost painful release.
John and Carla's little giggles and murmurs came to her ears as though from a great distance. She lay exhausted, still shivering with the soft balm of excitement that contined to course along her thighs and up around her breasts.
"Good, huh?" she heard Carla say, laughingly.
"Best yet, doll!" came his answer. "You sure yelled like hell!"
"Did I, darling, I don't remember a thing!"
Susan, still perspiring and only partially relieved, knew instantly what cry John had heard, and a flush of shame consumed her.
What awful thing had she done? Experiencing pleasure by watching and hearing them! But it hadn't been complete. An ingredient had been missing, of course. Sadly missing.
She clamped her teeth together and resolved that this wouldn't happen again! Never!
Shaken to the core of her being, she eased under the covers and stretched out, glad for the concealing darkness. Someone closed her bedroom door, gently.
Probably Carla, she thought, hazily. Then she fell asleep.
CHAPTER THREE
John Wister relaxed on the living room sofa, sipping a highball, waiting for the girls to get ready to go out. He knew he might have quite a hunk of time to kill. When two girls as close as were Carla and Susan, started putting on duds they had no conception of hours or of minutes.
He felt in good shape this evening. Carla really had surprised him, and right here on the sofa, too. He wondered if he had been neglecting her.
Susan Alward continued to intrigue him. What a pair of knockers! She had kept herself pretty well covered up, until lately. He figured his wife must have talked Susan into wearing something a little more chic. John liked to kid Susan because she blushed so easily.
Still single at twenty-three! A neatly rounded body, long legs that weren't too skinny-She must have been disappointed in love at one time or another, or she still was afraid to let go.
A nice piece if he could get it ... and he began to think seriously of trying. Not tonight, though. Carla had arranged a date for Susan with Bob Farnsworth. Bob owned a TV repair shop, had been married once to a flashy redhead, and should know the ropes.
John grinned to himself, and he decided to foul up the date if he could. He wanted to be the first with Susan. Carla had dropped enough conversation to let him know that Susan was as near a virgin as a guy could get these days. Not that his trusting little wife suspected that John had designs in that direction.
He knew he would have to be very careful. Wives had a kind of sixth sense antenna when it came to competition. Or built-in radar.
Meanwhile, he would try to find out if Carla was going to stay in the same groove, being playful and sexy. She hadn't balked last night....
His reflections were interrupted by the appearance of the girls. He stood up, smiling.
They had decided ahead of time that they weren't going formal. The foursome would go to a dance at a road house called the Log Cabin, east of Linton. Carla and Susan wore short-skirted frocks, suited to the warm weather.
What bugged John's eyes was Susan's frilly dress. It hugged her tiny waist, flaring out around her just-right hips. Her legs were perfectly shaped, a bit more full than Carla's. The bodice hit him the hardest. It cradled, almost caressed, her thrusting breasts to perfection. He said it to himself again: What a pair of knockers!
Carla wore the same kind of frock, a bit more daring at the top, with a frill of lace drawing attention to her own bust. And she had a lot to be proud of in that department, too.
John whistled.
Carla laughed, whirling around in front of him. Susan just smiled, shyly. John had trouble tearing his eyes away from the newly-blossomed brunette. A living doll, untested and untried....
The Log Cabin was alive with a noise, a five-piece jazz combo giving out with some real gone rhythms. Susan's excitement mounted. For all her instinctive reserve, the couples swirling and bobbing on the dance floor, the beat of the music, the laughter, all began to draw her out.
Bob Farnsworth seemed pleasant enough, telling a lot of jokes, joining John in his light kidding about how quiet Susan was.
She felt almost naked, in her new frock. She never had worn anything like it before, but she felt a guilty sense of satisfaction at the result it had on the men. They both were intensely aware of her!
As the first round of drinks came, Susan's thoughts slipped back to the previous evening. She was ashamed now that she had watched. She was even more ashamed that she had received a vicarious thrill out of seeing John's and Carla's love play.
Her innate sense of modesty told her such things should be very private, for lovers, alone. She had invaded that privacy, stolen a certain throbbing sense of relief from her hosts' intimacies....
At the time, this had made her retreat still further into her shell of reserve, making her wonder if she ever would be brave enough to reach fulfillment, such as Carla had experienced....
"Drink up, Susan," Bob said, breaking in on her thoughts. "Then let's cut a little rug!"
Soon, they were on the crowded dance floor. Susan hadn't danced much since her high school days, and she had trouble matching steps with Bob. He had chosen a lively tune that required quick timing.
The liquor lifted her spirits a little. She didn't mind when Bob held her close and glanced down into the shadow between her breasts. But she certainly wasn't being 'carried away' !
For the next dance, a slow dreamy melody, John led her out onto the floor. As soon as they were hidden from the booth where Carla and Bob sat one out, Susan felt John's arm tighten about her waist, her breasts thrusting against his thin sport shirt.
"You look great tonight, Susan," he murmured in her ear. She experienced a warm thrill, the more exciting because it wasn't really proper....
She fit her whole body tightly against John, dancing with ease in his strong, sure clasp. Afraid to answer, she let her now trembly figure reply.
There was no doubt at all in her mind but that John received her answer. His hand tightened on hers. A low chuckle escaped his lips.
"We shouldn't-" she said, at last, still tingling from his nearness.
"People shouldn't do lots of things, Susan." Then his voice lowered, intimately. "But I want you to know, Susan, you're very lovely-and desirable...."
She didn't answer until they were leaving the floor. "Thanks, John, for everything...."
His glance was playful, and at the same time, intense. His dark eyes had a way of probing inside her, reading her secret desires....
It's wrong to want him she said to herself. Wrong to think about all the delicious things he did to Carla.
But she couldn't help herself. The vision of their sex-play in the living room swam before her eyes.
The evening progressed swiftly. .
Bob's latest story was about a salesman who stopped at a farmhouse in the dead of night.
"The farmer said he had two daughters who each had a bed. One had a beautiful body and an ugly face-the other was vice versa. You know. The farmer said the salesman could sleep with whichever one he wanted. The salesman thought it over and decided he'd rather sleep with the farmer. The salesman was a swish! Haw, haw, haw!"
Susan didn't join in the laughter that followed. She flushed, biting her lip. She was glad for the subdued lighting in the club.
John came back with another story, but Susan didn't catch all of that, as Bob's hand under the table was playing around on her knees....
She found herself wishing secretly that it was John's seeking hand. As she was sitting on the outside of the booth, she stood up and excused herself, heading for the Ladies Room.
She decided she needed to get away a while, because Bob was becoming a bore, and she wanted to think about that dance with John, about the way he had held her, his hard body against hers, snugly, arousing hot desire in her....
When she came back, she noticed the seating arrangement had changed. John sat across from her now, with Carla on his right. Bob would be on her own left when he came back. He was 'table-hopping', talking to someone in a far corner of the darkened roadhouse.
Susan crossed her legs, glad that Bob was gone for a while. Carla was whispering something in John's ear when Susan felt something touch her legs under the table-again! This time it was John!
His fingers ran lightly, tentatively, over her knees.
To cover her surprise and her secret delight, because the drinks had melted some of her reserves, she picked up her glass and sipped, staring out at the dance floor.
Slowly, she uncrossed her legs, aware that her short skirt had hiked back from her knees a few inches. The way John was turned toward Carla, giving her his attention, Susan was sure her friend couldn't see where John's hand lurked.
He and Carla were talking about the next day's plans, and the way John's body was placed, with both of his arms under the table, and the way Carla reacted, Susan was almost certain he was toying with his wife at the same time...!
I don't care, Susan thought fiercely. I want his fingers caressing me!
It was so casual from all appearances, but his hand wasn't casual at all.
Thrills chased along her thighs as John's fingers slid around teasingly, reaching the tops of her nylons, touching her soft flesh!
She found herself changing position slowly, so she could scoot a bit nearer. Her fingers tightened on her glass and her ears buzzed as he reached higher, higher. What wonderful caresses!
Carla turned, then, speaking to someone in the next booth, and John's eyes swung over in Susan's direction. Susan shivered, afraid to meet his gaze, her eyes fixed on the dancing couples. Delightful tremors chased along her thighs. John's fingers roamed still higher, until she could have screamed out for him to continue because his touch was so sensual and exciting....
Her thighs spread even more, invitingly, almost of their own volition, until-until-
The glass she held slipped from her finger and crashed to the floor.
Carla turned, laughing. John's hand retreated, slowly.
A shudder went through Susan's body. She stilled the wild beating of her heart and covered her confusion and want in leaning over to pick up the pieces of broken glass.
About that time, Bob returned, and the wonderful sensations John's hand had aroused were fading slowly, leaving a sweet ache behind.
But, surprisingly she was able to join in the laughter at Bob's next joke, as her thoughts ran wild.
I'm sure now he wants me! Oh, how wonderful' I knew his hands would feel that way. And right in front of Carla! I wonder if she suspects?
But her fears apparently were groundless, as Carla invited Susan to go with her to the rest room again.
They were alone in the lounge.
"John can't keep his hands off me, even out here!" Carla said, in a bubbly laugh.
Or off me, either, Susan thought, feeling guilty.
At closing time, she felt lightheaded and reckless.
As they left the night spot, Bob put his arm around Susan's waist in a familiar manner. Susan had an instant impulse to draw away, but she resisted the impulse. Bob was trying, in his own way.
She was in the back seat with Bob now, and his arm about her waist tightened.
"Please, Bob," she whispered, in protest. Somehow, he didn't have John's rugged appeal. There was a shallowness about Bob that she couldn't quite define. And she still tingled from John's bold caresses.
Bob released her and suddenly began singing ing crazily: "Two old maids in a folding bed, one turned over to the other and said: 'Yes, we have no bananas
"Bob, you'll shock Susan," Carla said lightly, from the front seat.
"I've just started my campaign to unshock her," Bob replied, his hand brushing the jut of Susan's breast.
She pushed his hand away, gently. She wasn't going to be a one-night stand, or let him do anything out of the way. Perhaps after a few dates....
John drew up in front of the Wister home.
Susan noticed Bob's car at the curb, where he had left it. It was long and sleek and expensive, but the thought of being in it alone with him didn't appeal to her.
"We'll go in now, kids," Carla said. "Come in later and have a bite and another drink after while, okay?"
Bob laughed. "This dish looks good enough for me!"
Carla giggled and took John's arm, steering him toward the house.
"I'm hungry myself, kids," she added, over her shoulder.
Susan watched John and Carla move up the walk toward their home, still in a gay, lively mood. How I envy her, she thought.
"What about a little drive in my car, baby?" Bob murmured, his arm around her again.
She didn't want to be a complete prude. "Let's sit here a while, Bob."
She wondered fleetingly if she could lose herself enough in Bob's arms to recapture the mood John had put her in out on the dance floor and, later, in the booth.
She relaxed momentarily against the seat. Bob took this as a sign of her surrender. His hand captured one of her breasts, squeezing hard....
"I can't wait to get you undressed, baby," he whispered hotly, against her neck.
She pushed his hand away. His assurance shocked her.
"I've-got a headache, Bob," she answered.
"Hey, fresh air'll do you good! Like to show you my hotrod, anyway," he rambled on. At least he wasn't pawing her.
"C-could we make it tomorrow?" she said, quietly. "I really think I drank too much-"
His light mood vanished. "Sure, baby, I can take a hint. I'll call you, eh?"
She nodded, knowing she had hurt him, but not caring, now. The spark she had hoped would be there, simply wasn't. She heard him move out of the rear seat, heard the car door open.
"Tell John and Carla I had a headache, too," he said sarcastically, then he slammed the door.
She watched him stride to his own car and climb in. His car started with a roar. The headlights flashed on, and he burned rubber getting away from the curb.
Another bust, she thought, as his red tail lights vanished down the avenue.
She eased out of the rear seat of the Wister car, closed the door, and began walking toward their house.
Why she thought. Why is it always like this?
He wouldn't call, naturally. His pride had been hurt. Then Carla probably would try again, as she had away back in high school days.
Susan listened to the chur of crickets in the still, warm darkness, looking up at the star-dotted sky.
Why am I so eager to get back in the house?
Instantly, she knew the answer. Because John was there! Because, no matter how wrong it was, she wanted to be near her friend's husband!
Thinking about what John had said to her on the crowded dance floor, feeling his arm about her, strong and possessive, then his hand, seeking, now shook her more than she cared to admit....
Lovely and desirable....
She hurried into the house.
The first thing she saw was John and Carla locked in a tight embrace near the very sofa where they had had so much fun. John's hand was kneading the round firmness of her breasts! The neckline of her already low-cut frock seemed to have slipped down and her breasts were bare.
Their mouths were tightly locked together.
Susan hated to interrupt their moment of pleasure. She hadn't yet closed the front door. She took a step backward, into the deeper shadows near the entrance, her heart pounding.
They had supposed she still would be out in their car, necking with Bob. She had entered so quietly, they hadn't heard her.
Now, she watched, entranced, as Carla thrust herself nearer, actually wiggling her breasts against John's caressing fingers!
The scene was extremely sexy. Perhaps because John had lowered Carla's frock, had lifted her bra out of the way, and had captured those white, eager mounds before she had removed another stitch of clothing!
They drew apart at last, and Carla giggled. "Darling, you're sure eager tonight, but I love it!"
He whispered something in Carla's ear Susan couldn't catch, and Carla giggled again. His hand continued to play around on Carla's breasts.
"But let's do it in the bedroom tonight, okay?" she answered slyly, laughing and backing out of his reach.
"The sofa was great last night!" he said, grinning. "I wonder how Susan and Bob are making out?"
Carla adjusted her bra and lifted her gown back in place, winking at John.
Susan took a deep breath, her cheeks still burning, and closed the door. They turned toward her.
"Where's Bob?" Carla asked.
"He had a headache," Susan managed.
"Oh. Too bad, honey. Sandwich or something?"
Susan shook her head, hoping they couldn't see her confusion, read her inmost thoughts. "I think I I'll turn in."
Had she fancied that John had a pleased expression on his handsome face? Pleased that Bob hadn't gotten very far? Or was he merely looking forward to a playful time with his wife?
"I'll be in in a minute, honey," Carla said, as Susan moved toward the guest bedroom.
Susan turned on lights and closed the door quickly. Her own breasts felt tight and tingly, crowding against her bra, against the snug bodice of her frock.
Watching again!
She leaned against the door, her hands touching her flaming cheeks. Why did the sight of her friends making love stir her so deeply? Was there some quirk in her makeup? A young-girl-peeping-tom....
She trembled, trying to erase the vision from her mind. She tried to forget what she had heard tonight and the night before.
She had had a chance to experience one man's hands on her, and she had passed it up. But it couldn't be any man's touch. She had to like the man. Love? She wasn't quite sure what that word meant, unless it was something like her secret wish for John, secret and daring.
Susan wandered to the bedroom vanity, and sat down, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Her cheeks still were flushed. John's whispered compliment seemed to ring in her ears again. Lovely, desirable.
The mirror told her that she was attractive. The creamy expanse of her shoulders, blending smoothly with the snug contours below, her full mouth, lipstick unsmeared, her wavy brown hair, rich and glistening, her large brown eyes, seductively shadowed, all told her that John was right, confirmed his observation.
But why couldn't she feel more confident?
Other men besides John and Bob had looked at her admiringly. She had noticed their hot glances.
The bedroom door behind her opened, and Carla slipped in.
Why couldn't it be John? flashed through Susan's head.
"We just didn't hit it off," Susan answered, weakly.
"I'm sorry, honey, really. But we'll try again, if you want to...."
Susan nodded, her flush leaving, at last. I can't tell her I want her husband!
"Bob does gab a lot," Carla went on, patting Susan's shoulders. Susan noticed that her friend's blue eyes were alight with excitement. Carla radiated an aura of friendliness. Susan also noticed that Carla's frock wasn't as neatly in place as it had been earlier, evidence of John's explorations around the low-cut bodice.
II John kissed me and lowered my dress I think I'd swoon with delight, Susan thought, guiltily.
"I'll find you a good hot lover, yet!" Carla said, laughing. Then she leaned nearer. "Honey, if there's something you want to tell me, some problem...."
Susan felt her cheeks grow warm again. "I haven't found the right one, I guess."
"You will!" Carla answered, lightly. "You just wait!"
Carla's hands left Susan's bare shoulders, and she moved toward the bedroom door. "See you in the morning, honey. Try not to have a hangover."
Susan said good-night.
Then Carla was gone, swiftly. Back to her lover!
Susan left the vanity, wandering to the bed. She stretched out, sighing. She rolled over and ran the zipper down at the back of her frock. There, that was better. The decolletage of her frock had been too snug all evening. She could breathe again. Her bra was confining enough.
She kicked off her high-heeled slippers and drew one smooth nyloned leg upward. The short hem of her skirt fell back, exposing a length of her creamy white thigh.
Nothing wrong with my legs, either, she thought, gratefully. Perhaps a bit full, but longer than Carla's, like the hosiery ads. A new bouffant slip and lacy blue panties, all worn in vain. She wondered if the liquor had loosened her thoughts.
John's fingers seemed to be stealing along her thighs....
Suddenly she found herself listening again!
A few bubbles of Carla's laughter came from across the hallway, from their bedroom. Excited, flirty laughter. Even with two doors separating them, Susan almost could distinguish John's answer. They were talking much louder than usual, probably because of the drinks they had consumed.
I won't eavesdrop.' Susan told herself, sternly.
But she knew that she would.
She squirmed off the bed, slipping her frock off over her head. Then her half-slip and her garter belt. She tossed those and her nylons on the bed. Clad only in bra and panties, feeling sexy and secretive, she approached the door to the guest bedroom. As she passed in front of the vanity mirror, she paused.
The wispy blue bra barely contained her breasts!
They had a jut like those on the models she had seen in magazines. She drew her shoulders back the way she had seen Carla do it.
They're larger and lovelier than Carla's. Susan told herself. Her hands came up to them. The thin nylon was electric to her touch....
What am I doing? she asked herself.
Her breasts were so firm, the nipples seeming to enlarge and stiffen.
Her hands dropped as more sounds from the bedroom across the hall aroused her curiosity. She glided to the door and placed her ear against the thinnest panel.
Susan didn't feel as shamed as she had the night before. She had a hunch it was the drinks, partly the scene just witnessed in the living room. John's fingers playing over Carla's breasts ... No wonder she had been so eager to get into the bedroom!
"I feel so reckless tonight, honey!"
"Great!" he answered. "Do you have to put that nightie on?"
"Think of all the fun you'll have taking it off, darling!"
Susan listened raptly, excitement mounting with, in her. It was wrong, but she couldn't help it.
Sounds of a scuffle, now, then silence for a while. He probably was kissing Carla, running his tongue deep into her mouth, fondling her body....
Carla's voice next, barely heard. "Let's make it last a long time tonight, darling...."
His answer wasn't audible, but the tone of it said he was pleased, naturally!
Susan heard the bed squeak a few times Then, suddenly: "Darling-me on top?"
His laugh was throaty.
"Ohhhh-John! You're so-nice...."
Susan trembled. The girl-on top! She had read of it in books about sex she had smuggled into her apartment, books mailed in 'plain wrappers.' One of the books even had been illustrated, showing different positions, but of course, pictures and even words couldn't convey the thrill that must accompany such ventures. She hardly admitted to herself that she had even gone through such 'marriage instruction' volumes.
"Ohhhhhh-darling!" came Carla's voice, vibrant with feeling.
Then the squeaking began, slowly. It seemed to rend every nerve in Susan's body, making her loins ache and her breasts tingle.
Carla was in there, above him, receiving his passion, glorifying in it. Susan pictured Carla's soft white thighs outspread, one on each side of John as she moved up and down in the primal rhythm.
"Ohhhh-" Carla cried. "Play with-these, darling!
Susan bit her lower lip, shaking all over. Carla meant her breasts, of course. John's hands would be holding them, caressing them, toying with the rigid nipples.
Susan's knees grew weak. She staggered across the room and fell across the bed. But nothing happened tonight, not the way it had before.
The bouncing and sighing of the bedsprings only deepened Susan's misery. She didn't know how long the noises came from the bedroom. But they were punctuated with little cries of joy, and long pauses, only to resume again.
Somehow she had to have John herself, close and hard against her, the way Carla was receiving him.
"Honey, you're so big!" Carla cried. "Drinks make you wonderful!"
No answer, as the bed jiggled a bit faster.
"Oh!-Oh!-Darling-I'm-going ... but you wait for the next one-please!" Carla almost shouted.
"Okay, sugar. It's all yours...." John answered.
The bed shook furiously for a few seconds, then stopped. "Ohhhhhhh-honey!"
Susan clamped her teeth together. Carla really was enjoying herself, delaying her climax just as long as she could.
Another series of bed-squeaks. Another pause, longer.
Then, in a wild surge of bouncing noises, Susan heard Carla shout.
"Oh-OH-OH-OHHHHHHH! Ohhhhhh-my!"
Susan was sure the bed would fall down. After a while, she heard a soft giggling and John's answering chuckle.
Susan squeezed her own breasts and tried to relive the moment of the previous night, but it eased away from her, escaping. She felt only a dull ache o, disappointment.
Ater a while, Carla's voice came again. Darling, do you want to do it to me this time?"
More comparative silence, broken only by a few sighs and a sexy titter from Carla.
"Honey," she said. "You didn't go did you?"
"No-"
"Ohhhh-wonderful! Now, I can have another one when you do!"
John's answer was a deep-throated laugh.
Susan crawled off the bed and fled to the guest bathroom. She closed the door. No sounds penetrated here. She couldn't stand hearing Carla's cries of ecstasy any longer. They burned right through Susan's brain, through her eager young body....
John must have amazing 'control,' Susan thought, waiting for his beautfiul wife to climax ahead of him, waiting for her again. He would be a supreme lover! Old enough to understand a young girl's need, letting her enjoy herself to the full.
According to the books Susan had read, a lot of men couldn't do that. They drained themselves quickly, and then were of no use to their yearning wives, or to their lovers.
Susan washed her face in cold water, and decided she would lay a plan of conquest. It would be cruel to Carla, devilishly unfair considering what good friends they had been over the years, but when it came to love, there were no rules.
She wasn't sure that she would want John permanently. That was a long time. But she simply had to let him awaken her, caress her, enter her.
Then the shy side of her nature said she merely was half-drunk and thinking too wildly. Finally, she left the bathroom and returned to the bed.
All was quiet in the Wister bedroom now. They had had their fun and they would be sleeping. Susan wondered if they would do it again in the morning.
Stop thinking like that! It's wrong....
Ten minutes later, she was asleep, herself.
Susan was up early the next morning and had coffee made by the time Carla appeared, clad in her robe.
"Hi, honey! That coffee sure smells good!" Carla said, brightly.
"The table's all set," Susan answered, meekly.
She noticed that her friend's mouth looked a bit swollen, but otherwise she appeared even more gay and friendly than usual. Obviously, she was feeling very pleased with herself. And why not? A night of dancing, climaxed by a robust loving with a virile husband!
She found herself almost hating the satisfied air of pleasure that radiated from Carla. Carla had made herself up, had brushed her hair, and she looked very attractive in her gauzy robe that barely concealed the thrust of her breasts.
Susan had been careful with her toilet, too. She had donned a strapless, off-the-shoulder frock that she knew would draw attention to her rounded figure, especially to her own breasts.
She had sensed John's interest in her, and she was determined to let him know as subtly as possible that she had a better figure than Carla's!!
I must be gaining confidence, she thought.
"Sleep good, honey?" Carla asked, sipping her coffee.
"I guess-"
Carla giggled. "I'm afraid John and I weren't very quiet last night."
Susan flushed. She hoped Carla wasn't able to sense her intentions.
"I didn't hear a thing," she said, glibly.
I'm lying now, on top of everything else, she thought. But that's nothing compared to my real goal.
"How'd you like to go on a picnic, honey?" Carla asked.
Susan smiled.
"And I've thought of a man you might like, too. I should have remembered him sooner. Bruce Leslie. He's older than John, but very much all man, if you know what I mean...."
"But-"
Carla leaned forward. "Well, if this doesn't work, I'll quit throwing them at you, okay?"
"You're very kind," Susan answered. Really."
Carla hummed a little tune. "It's a lovely day out. I'll have John get in touch with Bruce as soon as he gets up." She giggled, lowering her voice. "I was feeling very romantic last night."
As if I didn't know! Susan thought. She busied herself with her cup to cover her inner confusion, the memories that raced through her thoughts.
"I feel almost guilty, having so much fun-when you're not, Susan ... "
Susan flushed again. "It's all right, Carla."
"Well, it'll be all the better when you do catch a man, anyway...." Carla went on. She always had been outspoken, even in her high school days. "I watched you last night, honey. You didn't act as shy as usual. I think you and Bruce will get along famously!"
I hope so," Susan answered.
Another blind date! But she would try. She really would.
Carla's behaviour indicated this Bruce Leslie must be someone very special, and Susan wondered fleetingly if Carla knew him more than just casually.
That's wrong she thought, swiftly. Carla's trying to help.
But again her thoughts returned to John and to the way his hand had stolen under her skirt, against her trembling thighs, caressing, fondling.
CHAPTER FIVE
The picnic spot was in a shady pine grove south of Linton, in a belt of mountains. A small lake shimmered in the sun beneath them. A few late wild flowers still bloomed. As Carla had observed earlier, it was indeed a lovely day.
Bruce Leslie had come by the Wister house about eleven, and Susan had felt an instant liking for him. He was older, with a bit of gray showing in his thick hair, but he certainly wasn't acting aged. He owned a foreign car agency, and had been very successful, according to Carla. His wife had died two years earlier. He lived in one of Linton's best apartment houses. The foursome had driven out into the mountains in one of his imports.
What Susan liked best of all was his casual air of good cheer, and his sureness around her. No smutty stories. Bob Farnsworth had told too many of them.
And Bruce hadn't tried to paw her, either!
He wasn't handsome in the Hollywood sense, but his features were good, his eyes smiling. There was a vitality, a quiet sincerity in his manner that Susan liked, too. He had a good build, she noticed. He didn't seem a stranger to the outdoors, either.
Susan had worn slacks that she thought were almost too snug and revealing. She had, in fact, almost decided against them until Carla had talked her into wearing them. At least her blouse was fairly modest!
Carla's slacks were skin-tight, her blouse deeply cut in front. She seemed very gay and chatty as she and Susan spread a blanket on the grass. The men were over looking at Bruce's sports car.
"Well, how do you like him?" Carla asked softly, winking at Susan.
Susan shook her head. "You're sure trying to get me paired off!"
"Honey, what's living without a man, I ask you?"
Susan didn't answer, as the men now were approaching. Susan noticed that Bruce carried a cold hamper, and in a minute, there was a pop of beer cans.
She accepted one from him, smiling. He sat down beside her on the blanket, not too close, but near enough. John reclined beside Carla, having a smoke.
"I'm not hungry yet," he said. "What about a little hike, dolls?"
"Make it singular, darling. Maybe Bruce and Susan would like to get acquainted."
"Sure!" he answered, sitting up, grinning at Bruce. "Come on, squaw. Maybe out in the brush we can find something to whet our appetites!" He took Carla's hand.
Carla laughed, rising. "Okay, you two?"
Bruce shrugged, smiling. "These gals know the score, John. You better watch her!"
Susan didn't say a word, he heart beating rather fast. She still envied Carla. She couldn't help it.
John was so darned handsome, so assured. She watched the two climb a ridge above the picnic spot and disappear into the timber. She heard Carla laugh at something John said.
"Like another beer, Susan?" Bruce asked, his eyes going over her, admiringly.
She took a deep breath. She nodded, smiling at him. He moved lithely to the hamper and opened a can for her. He returned, sitting down in the same place. Their hands touched briefly as he gave her the frosty metal container. But he didn't make any passes.
"Would you rather go with them, Susan?"
Her heart pounded a little faster. She shook her head. She would try not to blush. In fact, she hadn't yet. That might be a good sign.
Bruce stretched out on the blanket, looking up at her. Susan suddenly was very much aware of him, of his throat showing where his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, but not all the way.
"I like quiet girls," he said, glancing at the tree-tops above them. "Sometimes I think people talk too much."
"Yes," she said, her voice clear.
He smoked a cigarette, relaxing. Susan felt the tension leave her, too. At least, some of it. Did he really appreciate a girl who didn't gush and chatter all the time?
He put his hands behind his head, his eyes returning to hers. "I want to tell you now, while I have a chance, Susan. You're a very lovely young girl, and I'm flattered as hell to have a date with you."
She didn't blush. The way he said it, quietly, without grabbing, with real sincerity, touched her deeply.
"Thanks-Bruce," she answered. She tried a smile. He smiled back. "How old are you, Susan?"
"Twenty-three-"
"I'm fifteen years older than you. Do you mind?"
"No-not at all."
He rolled onto one elbow. He didn't touch her, though. He just smiled. She noticed he had very good teeth. He seemed to be assessing her. And somehow, she didn't mind at all!
"Carla's told me something about you, but not enough. Like to talk about it?"
"There isn't much to say, really."
"I'll listen, Susan!" She bit her lip. Then she decided to take the initiative. Bruce was very considerate, very likable. She was aware of his strong masculinity, the quiet of the forest about them.
"Let's take a walk, too," she said, mustering all her courage.
"Sure," he said, rising swiftly. "A good idea."
His brown eyes lit up. He held his hand out to lift her upright. She liked the feel of his hand, the strength of him. Maybe if they walked, she wouldn't be so self-conscious. It would give her something to do.
They moved past his car, downhill, in the opposite direction John and Carla had gone.. A woodpecker hammered on a dead tree high above them. Far below them, came the murmur of a stream or a creek.
Susan found herself talking to Bruce now, nothing serious, just things about the forest, which he seemed to know intimately. As the trail narrowed, he took her hand.
While they continued walking, slowly, he asked her about her work, how long she was going to be in Linton, and she felt more and more at ease with him. Occasionally his hand tightened on hers, as they took a turn in the trail or stepped over a fallen snag. She let her fingers squeeze his lightly, in return. For a while they didn't talk.
They still were going downhill along a clearly marked trail, when a sudden bend in the track brought them into a clearing.
Directly beneath them, in a grassy depression, partly hidden by a screen of greenery, a young couple was making love.
Susan halted as though she had been pierced by an arrow.
The young man's trousers were down below his knees, the girl's dress was hiked back, her legs outspread. Her panties lay on the grass beside them. The young man was between her thighs, his hips going up and down in the rhythm of sexual intercourse.
They were so engrossed, they didn't see Susan and Bruce.
Susan felt her face turn to flame. The whole scene was burned into her consciousness, right down to the detail of the girl's opened bodice, which left her pointed breasts bare.
Susan felt like dropping in her tracks.
She heard Bruce murmur something, and his hand drew her backward. She turned her head away from the suggestive panorama, her cheeks hot, waves of shame washing through her body.
Shame, and perhaps envy, too.
Silently, the two started back up the trail. A few little squeals of excitement reached Susan's ears. One of the couple cried out sharply, obviously in climax, and Susan felt her knees turn to water. Hearing and seeing again! It almost was too much.
She caught at Bruce's arm for support.
He held her, firmly. He led her further up the trail.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She looked the other way, her face still warm and flushed.
He chuckled. "Boys will be boys, Susan."
She trembled as darts of sensation raced through her body. Not passion, "exactly. What the young couple had been doing coincided too closely with what she had been wishing for herself. But to see it so clearly, in broad daylight, had been a shock.
"I'm sorry, too," she murmured. "Let's go back."
"Sure, Susan. But we shouldn't be prudish. Evil is in the eye of the beholder, remember."
Climbing, breathing in the fresh air, calmed her, at last. She motioned at a fallen log beside the trail. Bruce led her to it and they sat down.
"I wonder if John and Carla are back yet?" she murmured breathless.
"We'll go up in a minute and see," he answered, calmly.
She wondered suddenly if Bruce sensed her interest in John. He was wise in the ways of the world, obviously. She decided that she would try to drive John out of her thoughts. Here was a really nice fellow who hadn't rushed her at all, who seemed to understand her, and best of all, who didn't talk smut all the time.
She hadn't made up her mind how she felt about Bruce. He certainly was a gentleman, in every respect. He was likable, successful, and very eligible. Why did she still covet her best friend's husband?
"By the way, Cusan," Bruce said, moving a trifle nearer. "I want to ask you now. I want to see you again."
She sighed. "I'd like that." He had gained her confidence. If he were a real wolf, he had curbed his desires very well, not that he should indefinitely!
She raised her eyes to his. She smiled. She didn't want him to think that the scene down the trail had shaken her so badly that she couldn't respond at all.
His eyes ran over her face, down to the V of her blouse, and back to her mouth. She shivered, inside. Bruce could drive John out of her thinking, and she would let him!
The forest was very quiet now, except for a soft breeze sighing above them, in the tops of the pine and the fir trees.
"You're lovely, Susan," Bruce murmured.
Then his arms were around her, and the shivering inside her turned to a quaking. His mouth came down toward hers. She closed her eyes, waiting.
His lips were firm, but gentle. She felt the strength of his arms, felt his hard body draw nearer, and she let herself soften in his grasp. This wasn't John, but-
His mouth left hers, and then came back, gently still. All of her need to be held and cuddled seemed to focus now as little shivers of joy raced along her spine, spreading to her loins and her breasts.
Her arms went around him, and she pressed herself against him, eagerly. Her breasts were mashed against his chest, now. They tingled at the contact.
She swam in warm pleasure, feeling his mouth grow more demanding. And, daringly, she opened her lips to receive his tongue.
This was exciting!
His tongue seemed to awaken more nerves inside her than she ever had dreamed existed. And each one of them tingled with joyous anticipation!
Now, one of his hands reached up to find her breasts!
"Ohhhh-Bruce!" she heard herself moan, as their mouths parted, at last....
Then his mouth was back again, where she wanted it. Her lips seemed especially soft and responsive, receiving him gladly, joyously.
His hand on her breasts sent shivers through her. He kneaded them, surely and deftly, possessing them as she had wanted them possessed, by a virile man's touch.
A far-away shout broke the magic spell his mouth and hands were weaving. She trembled, retreating, as the call was repeated.
"Bruce! Susan! Hey!"
It was John's voice, far up the trail.
"Ohhhh, darn it!" she heard herself say.
Bruce chuckled, his voice husky with emotion. "We'll have other times, Susan."
She still rested in the crook of his arm, hating to leave it, the cozy sense of being wanted, of being held, refusing to leave immediately.
"Tonight, darling?" he whispered, kissing her again.
She nodded, squeezing him fiercely against her once more. She felt desire within him, communicated by his mouth, by his hard body.
He released her at last, and called up the trail to John Wister.
CHAPTER SIX
John watched Bruce and Susan climbing up the path. He knew the car dealer had made progress. Susan's mouth was lightly smeared, and Bruce had a smug look on his pan.
Damn it, I've got to get there first, John groused.
Susan appeared as shy as usual, and just as damn mouth-watering as usual, too. John didn't think they had been gone long enough for anything drastic to have happened. A little kissing and breast-squeezing, the way it looked.
Carla didn't have to be so damned eager to get Susan bedded down, not for a while, at least!
John watched the sweet lines of Susan's hips and thighs limned in the snug slacks she had worn, and his hands fairly itched. Though her blouse was modest, the ripe contours beneath it couldn't be hidden. They begged for attention.
Susan appeared flushed and excited, a bad sign as far as John's own plans went. Her eyes followed Bruce in a way they hadn't before. Bruce himself remained smooth and casual. He knew his way around!
As the girls began preparing the picnic lunch, spreading eats out on the blanket, John saw them whispering and giggling. Susan was like a young colt, a bit awkward, self-conscious, and her continued naive mannerisms firmed his resolve to get there first. Friday night she hadn't pushed his hand away-
What a body she had! The rich brown hair framing her oval face, her mouth so expressive, lips full and fleshy, a berry ripe for the plucking.
Her legs fit snugly together all the way down, sweetly tapered, so that when she moved, the material hugging her thighs whispered in exciting contact. A doll, man! A living doll....
John tore his eyes away, and he lit a cigarette. Bruce was opening more cans of beer. John accepted one, gladly. The hike he had been on with Carla had made him thirsty.
As he chatted with Bruce, he tried to frame a plan that would get him alone with Susan long enough to test his theory. He was sure that Susan had a secret crush on him, especially after what she had seen from the shadowy hallway when he had teased and played around with Carla on the sofa on Friday evening.
Shouldn't be too difficult, living in the same house with her, at least temporarily. He would have to get Carla out of the way, somehow.
Once he had had a sample of this untried little doll, Bruce could have her. Carla really was more his kind of dame, easy to talk to and to get along with, most of the time. And if she kept on being as sexy as she had lately, things would be okay.
As the beer circulated through his blood, he felt a strong rise of desire for Susan, sharper than he ever had experienced before. Something had to be done, and soon.
Any gal who was so hungry for a little fun that she had to sneak looks at a married couple having a ball was really in need. No question about that!
As the four began to eat, and conversation flowed back and forth, it appeared that Bruce and Susan had a date for this same night. John cudgeled his brain in an effort to come up with a solution, because the way Susan was acting, shooting glances at Bruce, the time to intervene was running out. He might gamble that the older man wouldn't score the first time around, but he didn't want to take that chance. John wanted to be sure.
He noticed that Carla appeared quite pleased, with her matchmaking. Maybe she suspected his interest in Susan, maybe she wanted Susan tied up with someone before her husband got too many fancy ideas.
Dames got ideas very easily. John munched his food and ran through several plans to thwart Bruce's campaign, because it was as obvious as hell that he had one.
Although John admired Bruce and they had a drink together at the Elks now and then, they had never been buddies. Where a choice virgin like Susan was concerned, John would bar no holds. The best and the trickiest man would get there first.
And the time to act was today, before Bruce Leslie lured Susan up into his apartment. John would keep his eyes open. An opportunity might present itself at any moment.
Another problem had been bothering him lately, too. Elaine Biscomb. Elaine lived in a small village, north of Linton, called General. John often stopped there on his return visits, arriving at General a day early, so he could have plenty of time to spend with the buxom widow. Elaine mothered and babied him, and a secret facet of his personality foundi enjoyment there. Lusty enjoyment, indeed.
The fact that" Elaine had picked up a few of his gambling debts, incurred up in north Idaho, served as an added inducement to keep her reasonably satisfied. That was actually difficult, because she had enormous sexual appetites. Lately, he had had the idea that she was planning to move in and to ease Carla out.
Elaine owned a couple of farms, left to her by her late husband. She leased them out and lived handsomely on the income. This wealth, John knew, enabled her to enjoy her favorite pastime-men.
* * *
At that same moment, Elaine Biscomb had a visitor.
He was a young service station attendant who had just delivered her Caddy, and who was now Standing restlessly in her luxurious living room.
John hadn't stepped on his last trip from up north. He had called and had made excuses. Now, Elaine knew that she wouldn't see him till later in the week, and she was bored. The service station worker was new in General, and he looked big and strong enough, to intrigue her.
"Sit down and relax, Eddie," she murmured, soothingly. "I know you can't be too busy on a Sunday."
"I'm off today," he answered, his eyes drawn to the gaping V of her robe, where a fringe of lacy nightie strained under the pressure of a huge, jutting breast.
Elaine had slept late, as usual, and she hadn't changed into a dress.
"Fine!" she said. "Like a little drink?" Eddie Crow had heard rumors about widow Biscomb, enough to whet his curiosity. It appeared that some of the stories about her might have a grain of truth.
"Sure," he answered, grinning.
Elaine smiled. "Be a good boy and go out in the kitchen. There's a bottle and mix in the refrigerator."
Eddie nodded. General was a dead burg. This was the first buzz he had had since the company had sent him here. The young girls all were tied up, engaged or going steady. Eddie's boss had told him to deliver Mrs. Biscomb's car on Sunday, day off or not. Now, he was glad that he had.
He found the fifth of expensive bourbon and a bottle of charged water. He picked up two glasses and returned to the living room, marveling at the opulence of the house and of its furnishings. This gal must be loaded!
"Sit down here, Eddie," Elaine said, patting the sofa beside her.
He obeyed, placing the bottles and glasses on the coffee table in front of them.
"Any girl friends?" she asked, kiddingly.
He shook his head, pouring the drinks. He had forgotten the ice, but she didn't seem to notice.
"I know how General is, Eddie. Do you like me?"
She knew she looked attractive. Of course her body was too large by Hollywood standards, but she had discovered that all men didn't prefer thin-limbed, anemic-looking women. She knew her features were good, especially her pouty, full mouth and her large, black eyes. She wasn't obese, with a lot of excess fat. Her waist was slender for a woman of her build. She simply was large and well cushioned!
Looks weren't everything, either. Mien didn't mind an experienced woman who really enjoyed sex for its own sake. She was old enough at thirty-two to have learned quite a lot about men, and how to handle them, especially in the bedroom. Where it counted!
So many cute little dolls just didn't understand how a man liked to be treated. But, of course, where were they to learn? Not in school, not anywhere. And when you added an inept and greedy young man to the mixture, you really had a mess!
"You bet!" Eddie said, at last.
"You aren't going to blab this around all over town, are you, Eddie?"
"Hell no!"
Elaine's house sat well off the highway in a natural depression, surrounded by large elms. She knew that the three-wheeled motorcycle Eddie had towed out behind the Caddy, wouldn't be visible from town.
Elaine managed to let her nylon robe slip open even further, at the throat. Eddie's gaze traveled there quickly, and she saw his hand shake a little.
She knew her huge, high-riding breasts were her best man-bait. All of her clothes, especially her negligees, her lounging things and her nighties all were designed to emphasize her breasts. She was proud of them. Now, she took a deep breath, leaning back against the sofa, so the ripe heft of them would be clearly visible.
"Put your drink down, Eddie," she whispered.
He did. Her fingers trailed along the nape of his neck. He had a good, sturdy neck.
Eddie turned with a small groan and reached for her mouth. Elaine felt a delicious thrill as his lips contacted hers. She let hers open sensuously, almost enclosing him. A new conquest was always thrilling, charged with excitement. Her large breasts tingled with anticipation. She hadn't had any fun for a week. She was more than eager.
Now she stabbed her tongue out against his mouth, feeling his arms tighten. She drew his hand to her breasts.
She would much rather have had John there beside her, because he had a certain way of exciting her, of delaying her pleasure, and his own. He could fiddle around over her breasts, her thighs, her mouth and make it last for hours, or at least it seemed to!
These young, husky men all were too rapid, and she didn't want to take the time to teach Eddie. He wasn't exactly her type, even if he would do in a pinch!
John knew all the little nuances, the ticklings and the probings that brought her to a really satisfying culmination. Once she got started, she hated to stop. She admitted that her appetites were huge. John once had made her climax seven times in one evening!
He knew how to preserve his own virility so that she could enjoy herself to the limit. He could last.
Eddie, now, was squeezing her breasts too hard. He was already slobbering for a fast rush, his strong arms tightening, his breath uneven.
I ought to teach sex, she thought fleetingly, already sinking into a haze of wanting. Whenever a young man got himself worked up too swiftly, she found herself doing so, too.
She opened the top of her nightie, since Eddie seemed too clumsy there. His hands were too rough. She pulled them away from her sensitive mounds, directing his attention to her thighs. After he had groped around a while, she squirmed.
"Take off your clothes, now, lover," she murmured.
He gasped, hating to leave her for a second. But finally she engineered it. She was pleased to see that he was all man-
She sank back on the sofa, against pillows already artfully arranged, and let him crawl above her. He was trembling like a stud. When she positioned him, he began acting like one.
No finesse....
She received him ardently, closing her eyes, as his rough hands clamped around her generous hips. She tried to hold him so that she could play a little, but he was too far along to allow for that.
She gave up, lost now in the wild bucking of his body, the searching masculinity. She lay quietly and let him groan and pant and jerk....
His fierce shout brought her swiftly, surely to a very satisfying minor crest. It wasn't as good as with John, but a new conquest had its points. She relaxed, sighing.
He started to move away, and she held him.
As young as he was, she knew she would not be disappointed.
He grunted and remained above her. Slowly, she began a series of practiced wiggles, rotating her hips in a motion that she realized soon would bring the desired result. She lifted her legs higher, delightful waves of passion returning.
"Come on now, Eddie," she coaxed, drawing his chest down on her eager breasts.
"Helll-yesss-" he moaned, his fingers sinking into her flesh.
He can't be as fast this time, she thought aware of his manhood again, glorying in it. He lunged deeper....
"Slower, Eddie, honey," she whispered. "Make it last-"
"Man-Oh, man-".she heard him gasp.
Now he was getting the idea! Slowly she lay back on the cushions, her hands behind her head. She watched the play of his strong body above her and smiled to herself. Lesson number one.
She moved her body only when he paused to catch his breath, and finally she knew he could hold out no longer. She closed her eyes, sinking into a glut of enjoyment, feeling the sweet rise of desire, feeling his strong hands knead the flesh of her hips, hearing his jerky breathing....
"Now!" she cried. "Now, Eddie! Hard and deep!"
He gasped and groaned, giving it to her, good.
This time Elaine experienced a whole series of hot, stabbing flashes and she convulsed joyfully around him, hearing his wild shout again as yet another wave of passion seared her loins....
This boy was going to be wonderful, after all!
CHAPTER SEVEN
John offered to walk over to the cold hamper and open the next round of beer. No one objected. Bruce was stretched out on the blanket, hands behind his head, and Susan reclined very near. Carla talked a streak, as usual. No one paid John any attention.
He always had made it a policy to be prepared. In his travels, he had met a number of salesmen who had other lines, besides hardware. Drug pushers, or salesmen, often carried interesting items. One of them had let John have a small vial of clear liquid that was guaranteed to keep any man out of action for at least twenty-four hours.
As soon as John had the four beer cans opened, he pretended to lose the opener, and during his hunt for it, he managed to slip a dose of the drug into Bruce Leslie's can. While he was at it, he gave Carla's a shorter treatment.
Carefully, he served the cold containers to the right persons. John knew what the reaction would be-the drug was a laxative. He had been assured that it would cause no real harm, just discomfort and mild sickness for a few days.
The gay mood about the blanket persisted for a while longer, until John noticed Bruce becoming restless. He excused himself and went out into the brush. When he returned, he looked pale.
"I must have got a shot of food poisoning," he said, to no one in particular.
"I-don't feel so hot either," Carla added, sitting up.
Before long, she too left the group. John permitted himself a grin. With both of his potential enemies having bowel trouble, he might have a chance with Susan. At least Bruce wouldn't be in a very romantic mood the rest of Sunday.
John's move broke up the picnic. He had to do the driving back to Linton. Leslie had really gotten a good shot of the superlaxative.
Carla was now in the master bedroom, resting, and Susan had gone in to help her. Bruce Leslie was safely in his apartment. Naturally his date with Susan had been postponed!!
A dirty trick, John said to himself, smugly. And no one suspected. A quiet evening with Susan available might produce some pleasing results.
"I don't understand it," Susan said, returning to the living room, where John had settled down with a cigar. Of course, he had shown the proper concern since leaving the mountains, driving Leslie home and helping him park his car.
Susan had put away all the picnic things. Now, she sat down across the room from John. She had changed into a short-skirted frock, and even when she was careful with her skirt, the view was superlative.
"A bug, I guess," he said. "It happens."
"Carla's asleep now," Susan answered. "Like to watch TV?" he asked her, smiling deep inside.
The outing had put color in her cheeks, zest in her step. The frock she wore was one of the newer ones Carla had helped her buy, evidently. It snuggled about her lush figure in a way that made his mouth water.
And those lovely, arching breasts! He wondered how far Bruce had gone on the road to a conquest. All the signs indicated that he had made progress.
"You made quite a hit with Bruce," John said, teasingly.
Susan flushed, lightly. "He's interesting."
John knew better than to knock it. He just winked at her and wandered over to turn on the TV. He knew that conversation with Susan was limited. There were some good programs on, and he would be the perfect host, going in to check on his wife now and then, making sure she was asleep. Then he would begin his own campaign. He felt sure the beer had had a soothing effect on Susan because she seemed less shy and hesitant.
"I have some beer left," he suggested, smiling.
"Well-I guess that would be-all right," she answered.
"A long evening ahead," he murmured, rising.
In the kitchen he patted himself on the back. He again remembered Friday evening, the glimpse he had had of Susan standing in the shadowy hallway near the guest bedroom, watching him titillate his wife. He wondered if Susan had listened in on the next night, when Carla had been so demonstrative and so willing. They had made a lot of noise!
Susan accepted the can of beer from John, a mixture of emotions running rampant within her. So many things had happened in the last few days! First, the nerve-shattering experience on Friday night, watching John's hands caress his flirty wife, the guilty secret of Susan's heightened excitement, the tumult that watching had created.
Then the disappointing date with Bob, to be followed by a noisy series of sexual completions from the Wister bedroom. This morning a date with an older man, her shy blossoming in his presence, the imprint of his mouth still burning on her lips.
Now, alone in the living room with John, whose presence still flustered her, whose strong masculine appeal continued to intrigue her. He was so handsome and so understanding! Somehow, the knowledge that her interest in him was wrong added spice to the situation.
If only she weren't so inexperienced!
The beer and the proximity with Bruce had left Susan in a mood of careless relaxation. Was that why she had donned one of the new, revealing dresses? Was that why she had seated herself across from John and crossed her legs?
I'm afraid, she thought. Thinking again of Carla's husband-
"You can see the TV better from over here," John said, chasing her reflections. He indicated a place on the sofa, beside him.
She smiled, feeling daring, and joined him. After all, she was a guest in their home. No reason to be stand-offish!
John wore an open-throated sport shirt. An area of his tanned chest drew her eyes. She felt a little thrill as she crossed her legs and didn't bother to draw the hemline across her knees as she would have if another woman had been present.
The beer tasted good. The tangy picnic food had left Susan thirsty, in spite of the few beers she had had before the meal. She leaned back, too aware of John's profile, of his nearness.
Bruce was nice. She was glad she had let him kiss her. She even had wanted that date tonight. But John did things to her, daring, sugestive things. She wondered if Fate arranged this evening, alone with him....
Somehow, I have to get experience, she felt. And John won't tell!
She sipped more beer, wondering anew at her rash thoughts. But she couldn't avoid them any longer. The memory of Friday night still burned in her consciousness. Right now she was sitting where Carla had sat, enjoying John's kisses, enjoying his hands on her eager young body.
He laughed at a joke on TV, and she laughed, too. She was so at ease around him. It was so natural to be sitting here with him.
She could sense his interest in her, ever since she had come to visit Carla. Now that awareness seemed stronger than ever. The way he smiled, rather secretly, when Carla wasn't looking, the way his eyes traced the outline of Susan's body, admiringly, almost hungrily, the way he would watch her legs like just now. All these things said he wanted her!
She searched for an excuse. There really wasn't one, but she could blame it on the beer.
"I'd like another-beer," she said, at last. "Okay, Susan!"
His smile was teasing as he returned to the living room with a cold can. She noticed he had another one, too. He lit a cigarette and turned out the brightest of the living room lamps!
She began to feel tension build up within her.
A tension she had experienced so many times with so many other men, even with Bruce Leslie. A natural feminine reluctance, no doubt. She had to overcome it!
She had to relax, to be receptive, alluring.
In her mind she had surmounted the greatest barrier, that of coveting another woman's husband! Was her shyness going to defeat her even now?
She had watched other girls flirt with men, giggling, rolling their eyes, twitching their bodies. But somehow she had never been able to do that. Her emotions were buried too deeply, even though they burned just as fiercely as those of her girl friends.
John would have to make the first move.
The fact that she hadn't retreated to her room must be giving him some indication of her interest, her curiosity. Her heart began to pound. The beer was sending tracers of intoxication through her being, an excitement she knew that alcohol alone wouldn't arouse.
If she could just say something encouraging!
"I-had a good time today, John," she managed.
He turned. She felt his eyes burning into hers. He slid nearer!
"I did, too, Susan, but I was envious of Bruce."
Her heart beat so fast, it seemed about to stifle her breathing. She put down the can of beer. Her fingers were shaking.
Now was the time to lead him on, to assure him that she wouldn't resist.
"I envied Carla," she whispered, and she knew her face was flushing. There, she had said something!
He placed his can of beer on the coffee table and his arm slid across the sofa, around her shoulders!
She trembled and closed her eyes. Her throat was tight; her whole body like a coiled spring, ready to unwind. The touch of his hand on her neck, soft, gentle, released the air she had been holding in her lungs.
She felt the sofa give as he came nearer, felt his arm tighten. Then his mouth was on hers, tentatively, seeking.
A harsh sigh escaped her, and she answered his pressure..
His lips were so firm, yet so soothing! No greedy holds just yet, but the hunger he felt for her was communicated.
She softened against him, shivering. She let her mouth answer, telling her own need.
"Susan," he breathed, into her mouth. "You're lovely-desirable...!"
She quaked all over now, kissing him, ardently. He was so slender and hard, so masculine!
Don't think, now! Just feel-and learn....
She felt his tongue slide between her lips, and she answered that, too. He was so slow with his advances, slow and careful, so that when his hand came up to the bodice of her frock, she already was tingling for his touch, wanting it!
All the accumulated desire for him, all of the aching frustration she had experienced these last few days, now flooded her being. He held her breasts lovingly. And oh!-how wonderful....
Her bra felt too snug, now, so did the tight material of her frock. Thrills chased along her spine, delicious waves of erotic desire....
He's playing with me now, instead of Carla! I'm no longer watching!
"Relax, now, honey," she heard him whisper.
He had sensed the tension within her, the wall of shyness she had erected. But it was difficult. She had expected him to rush from then on, but he was taking his time. Now she thrilled to him even more.
He understood. Maybe he even knew she was a virgin....
"Easy now, sweet," he murmured, his hands still cradling her breasts.
The coiled spring began to lose its temper. She was sinking slowly into a lull of pure enjoyment, of sweet anticipation, as his fingers deftly unfastened her frock at the back, loosening the bodice, so he could bring it down.
She sighed when it dropped. She was so glad now that she had worn her most daring bra, one Carla had picked out!! It was sheer red nylon, the same color as her panties.
"Lovely!" she heard him gasp, as his fingers captured her breasts again. They ached for his touch! They seemed to swell outward into his hands.
His kisses were more demanding, now, answering the passion that flared within her. Her lips seemed to have a life of their own, answering his touch, accepting his tender probings.
She wanted the bra away, now. She wanted to be bare, as Carla had....
Answering her secret wish, his fingers unhooked the tiny catch at the back. He lifted the wisp of nylon away.
"Ohhhh-" she heard herself moan softly, as his hand touched her smooth, hot flesh. How masterful he was! He knew just where to caress her for the most delicious sensations. All around her eager mounds, then out to the tender nipples, where his touch sent thrill after thrill along her body, clear to her loins....
I've wanted this so much! And now he's doing it!
He began kissing her throat, slowly, deftly. Lower, and lower, until he was over her breasts.
His lips were on her nipple!
She never had been so excited in her life! She felt his tongue caressing the nipple, gently but insistently. She trembled, thrusting her breasts outward and upward, toward him!
When his hand touched her thighs, stealing under her dress, she eagerly accepted the exploration. That's where she had wanted him to be, even before he started....
She ran her fingers through his wiry, curly hair.
Relax, honey," he breathed, as ripples of pleasure shook her. He wanted her still while he played over her body, and she thrilled again, able now to sink back slowly on the sofa, as his hand continued to caress her thighs. She knew her dress was hiked back clear to her hips, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything but John....
He understood her so well! Better than she had hoped for.
His hand and his mouth were instruments of joy, lifting her in warm waves toward a far-away crest she wanted, wanted fiercely, now....
She spread herself as his hand became more daring, more loving. He was patting her and touching her in the most secret, erotic places, doing titillating things that she had dreamed of so often, lifting her slowly again, sweetly, tenderly caressing until she felt herself in a half-swoon of joyful desire.
She had never felt so abandoned, so eager. Her hips seemed to respond of their own volition....
Now he left her breasts and began whispering in her ear.
"Lovely Susan, wonderful sweet Susan. I want you to enjoy this to the full now, darling. Are you ready?"
"Ohhhh-yes!" she cried, fiercely.
He returned to her breasts, where fires seemed to rage, where he began again to lift her, slowly, slowly. She was aware now of his every move, his loving consideration of her exquisite need.
His hands seemed to be everywhere, gripping her, lifting her, gently, then more firmly, until the waves of passion he created began to mount into even more delightful nuances.
She was rising, floating on a cloud of desire,, rising higher and even higher-
The cloud broke apart in sweet, aching fulfillment-and she fell into a sea of warm, throbbing ecstasy. Far away, she heard a cry of wild, almost animal joy. A few seconds later, drifting gently back to reality, she knew the voice had been her own!
CHAPTER EIGHT
John held Susan tightly as the last shivers of joy raced through her long, lovely body. She sighed, and he released her. She sank back on the sofa again, slackly.
What a doll! What a conquest....
But there was more to come-much more! He was surprised at his own control, so far. He was only human, after all. Feeling her, hearing her reach a delayed climax, had nearly torn him apart, but he was glad now that he had waited.
She had pushed her skirt down, but her breasts still were bare, still rigid, the nipples erect, as though expecting more titillation. And he was just the character to do it!
She opened her brown eyes sleepily, and smiled. Her arms lifted, slipping around his neck.
"Ohhh-John!" she whispered, gratefully. "But what about you?"
He lowered his mouth to hers. He liked the way it flowered open to his touch, warmly, invitingly. Susan was learning fast, no question about it.
He kissed her, then spoke softly. "You slip into your bedroom, sweet. I'll see how Carla is, and I'll be in right away...."
Her arms tightened around him. The alluring feminine odor of her was hard to resist, even for a few moments, but he managed. He retreated. She smiled, moistening her bruised lips with her tongue.
Susan removed her frock in a kind of haze, a delicious aftermath of warmth and relief still glowing within her. She knew what was coming now, or rather what she hoped was coming. All her inhibitions had fled. John had aroused her so skillfully, she still tingled where he had caressed her, especially in that certain place....
Now she wanted all of him!
She slipped into the guest bathroom and quickly made herself dainty again. When she came out, John still hadn't appeared. She put away the things she had worn in the living room, including the bra that John had removed. With trembling fingers, she searched for and found a sheer nightie of light yellow.
She readied the bed, turning back the covers. She cut the overhead light, and turned on one small lamp beside the bed. Then she went to the vanity to check her appearance.
John should be coming soon! She felt so gloriously wicked! Stealing favors from Carla's husband, reveling in his expert dalliance. She had known he would know how, she had watched him playing with Carla! He had done the same with Carla, letting her enjoy herself first before the rest happened in their bedroom.
Susan took a deep breath. Her deep brown hair glistened, her lips were retouched to a deep red, and her eyes seemed to have a kind of knowing look in them, now.
I wish John would hurry, before I lose this wonderful glow-before I start to think too much....
She heard a sound in the hallway, and her heart leaped. She turned toward the bedroom door, eager and expectant.
It opened, and John stuck his head in. He wiggled his finger at her, then held it to his lips.
She glided over to him, aware that her breasts were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her nightie, that the rest of her body must be, too.
But she didn't care! Something must be wrong, though, or he would have entered the room. A dart of apprehension stabbed her. Carla had been sleeping. She had been very ill.
"Susan," he whispered. "Sweet, Carla's awake. I'll have to come in later."
She seemed to freeze, to grow cold all over. At that moment, she hated John's wife, detested Carla! Denying Susan the fulfillment she so much wanted!
"I hate it!" he said, vehemently. "But be patient, darling. It won't be long."
He closed the door, leaving her alone.
She hugged herself, trying to recapture the bliss of a few moments earlier. But no matter how she tried, the glow, the wonderful sensation of knowing he was going to make her a woman at last, began to fade.
Susan bit her lip, retreating to the bed. She fell across it, shivering. Why in blazes had Carla awakened just when things had started?
She knew John was eager to have her-all the way. He had made all the preliminary advances, had awakened her to vibrant aliveness, had even lifted her to a wonderful peak of excitement.
But the last part, the completion, was lacking. She wanted him above her, his hard body pressed close, wanted him inside her....
She flushed at the realization of what she was thinking.
How could she pass the time?
Couldn't John-give Carla some kind of strong sleeping pill?
She slid under the covers, hiding the daring nightie. Carla might come in. Susan didn't want to be too brazenly daring.
She tried to keep little doubts from gnawing at her. But they came. Had John found her inadequate in some way? Didn't he want to come to her, when she needed him most?
He had told her she was lovely, desirable. He had found her ready, at last, for his caresses.
She would have to be patient. He surely was finding some way to put Carla to sleep.
Susan tossed restlessly, her fingers sliding over her breasts, where the fires John had ignited were beginning to fade.
But he would arouse them again, make them burn even higher! How wonderful when he had kissed them. The nipples grew rigid at the thought!
"Oh, darling, I'm so sick!" Carla muttered, tossing on the bed.
John bit his lip to hold back his impatience. He had already given his wife two sleeping tablets. They should be working soon. He could hardly contain himself, thinking about Susan in the guest bedroom, waiting.
A great big luscious doll, a virgin for sure, eager for his advances!
"Try to rest, doll," he said, turning the lights down. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."
Carla didn't answer. She turned on her side, twisting about under the covers. John slipped to the bedroom door, noticing that her eyes were closed.
He moved through the door quickly, almost closing it behind him. He stood there in the semi-darkness and took a deep breath. Damn! It seemed like an hour since he had had his hands on Susan. What a sweet dish, once he had her going! Those long, soft thighs, shyly parting, then spreading boldly as her passion mounted . Those high, jutting breasts with their tiny, virginal nipples....
He slid along the hallway, reached the door to the guest bedroom, and turned the knob. While he had been in the other bedroom with Carla, he had undressed and put on pajamas and robe. Carla would not budge for hours, now. He knew how potent the sleeping tablets were.
When he entered the room, Susan was sitting up in bed, her large brown eyes glued to him. He moved toward her, eagerly.
Susan shivered and fell back on the pillow. The covers had slipped away from her bosom, revealing the contours of her breasts, scarcely hidden by the sheer yellow nylon. He had come to her, at last!
All the little doubts that had plagued her now were washed away. John looked so handsome in the i red-and-brown plaid robe, belted tightly at the waist. She knew she should say something, but her throat was too tight, her emotions too heightened to put her feelings into words.
This can't be wrong, she thought, desperately, when I want him so much....
He was leaning over her now.
"Susan-" he breathed, huskily. "Susan, you're lovely!"
She held her arms out to him. At that instant, the telephone in the living room rang harshly.
John cursed under his breath, retreating swiftly. Susan knew why he hurried. The noise might arouse Carla.
What next? Susan thought, desperately.
Finally the ringing ceased, as she seemed to hang suspended, trying to recapture the mood that had enveloped her on the sofa. Denied again! Were the Fates working against her initiation into complete womanhood?
She heard John's voice, faintly, and she squirmed impatiently under the covers. He seemed to be talking a long time, or was it just her imagination?
At last the sound of his voice ended. She heard a click, then in a flash, he was back, coming through the door again. She drew a deep, shuddering breath.
"I left it off the hook," he muttered, leaning over her once more.
She closed her eyes, reaching for him. A low moan escaped him as his arms encircled her, squeezing. She had read enough to know that the strain on John must have been intense. He had been so considerate, letting her enjoy her first real climax! Now, she wanted him to reach completion.
His mouth communicated his ardor. She melted blissfully, running her hands through his thick, curly hair, as his hands held her breasts tightly, firmly.
Now his tongue went deeply into her mouth, stirring her desire. When he retreated, finally, to remove his robe, she still felt delightful, but not as passionate as she had felt earlier, in the living room. Was something wrong?
Her eyes opened enough to watch him undress. rang harshly.
John cursed under his breath, retreating swiftly. Susan knew why he hurried. The noise might arouse Carla.
What next? Susan thought, desperately.
Finally the ringing ceased, as she seemed to hang suspended, trying to recapture the mood that had enveloped her on the sofa. Denied again! Were the Fates working against her initiation into complete womanhood?
She heard John's voice, faintly, and she squirmed impatiently under the covers. He seemed to be talking a long time, or was it just her imagination?
At last the sound of his voice ended. She heard a click, then in a flash, he was back, coming through the door again. She drew a deep, shuddering breath.
"I left it off the hook," he muttered, leaning over her once more.
She closed her eyes, reaching for him. A low moan escaped him as his arms encircled her, squeezing. She had read enough to know that the strain on John must have been intense. He had been so considerate, letting her enjoy her first real climax! Now, she wanted him to reach completion.
His mouth communicated his ardor. She melted blissfully, running her hands through his thick, curly hair, as his hands held her breasts tightly, firmly.
Now his tongue went deeply into her mouth, stirring her desire. When he retreated, finally, to remove his robe, she still felt delightful, but not as passionate as she had felt earlier, in the living room. Was something wrong?
Her eyes opened enough to watch him undress.
Perhaps that would heighten her ardor. John was the only man she had ever seen completely naked, and that had been from a greater distance than now.
His pajama top fell to the floor. He had a wonderful build, strong and muscular. Again, curiosity assailed her as the pajama bottoms dropped....
Then she wished she hadn't watched. It was too-clinical, somehow. His passion was large ... erect ... She closed her eyes, waiting. Why hadn't she brought some beer or liquor into the bedroom?
It couldn't be really wrong to see a man naked. But it jolted her sensitive nature, made something almost animal-like out of a moment that should have been wonderful and exciting.
However, wasn't that what she wanted? Of course! Then, why should she feel guilty about it?
He moved in beside her.
She held her breath, living in a kind of suspense. "I'm sorry it took so long, sweet," he murmured. She was too excited to answer. What would he do first?
He slid over against her, the touch of him sending a tremor through her body. Now, he reached up to cradle a breast, squeezing it! His hand moved lower, lifting the gauzy nightie, caressing her thighs, came, playfully, his tongue sneaking inside, again. She answered the daring challenge. Meanwhile, he lifted the nightie higher, until her breasts were eagerly. She held her mouth for his kiss, and it there for his searching fingers....
Now she felt the hardness of his lean body against her side, and she shivered. In bed with him, at last! If only they hadn't had to wait so long....
His hand moulded her breasts, teasing the nipples until she trembled, but still she could not feel the deep, surging desire she had experienced earlier.
That will come soon, she thought.
She hugged him tightly, as his hand moved lower, along her waist, along her thighs, to that certain place. She spread herself for him. His fingers danced along the soft, tender flesh, gently.
Her ardor mounted.
When he moved slowly between her outspread thighs, she gasped with pleasure. She heard his uneven breathing, and her own seemed to answer. He drew her hand down to his passion.
Thrills chased through her body.
His chest was hard against her breasts now, although he seemed to be waiting for her to respond....
She tried, wondering why she couldn't feel the overwhelming tide of desire that had rocked her earlier, in the living room. Perhaps because this was so new to her.
She loved him for waiting. Because he still was gentle, considerate....
But he couldn't wait forever. He was kissing her breasts, now, one hand bracing himself above her, the other positioning her hips, drawing her nearer, nearer....
She knew that the first time might be difficult. She had read about that ... But she wouldn't flinch!
Now, slowly, it was beginning! The time had come.
Suddenly, she felt pain. Her involuntary tremor gave her away. She bit her lip, wondering what had happened. He moved away then, still caressing her, but she could tell his patience was near the limit. John wasn't a superman.
"Try again!" she panted, amazed at her daring. This had to be the time-She might not get another chance for too long....
He did, slowly and deftly. The pain returned! She gasped, feeling him shiver above her. She heard him gasp, too. He shook all over, dropping away to the side, holding her body tight, almost fiercely....
A kind of moan escaped him, then he cried out.
Oh! she thought, desperately. I've failed him....
CHAPTER NINE
The worst of Bruce Leslie's pain had dissipated. He left the bedroom of his apartment. As soon as he had come home, he had made himself throw up. He still felt weak and shaky.
He had seen John opening the last round of beers, and now, in retrospect, he was almost sure what had happened. Wister must have doped Bruce's can-and Carla's, too! John's purpose wasn't hard to figure out.
Susan. Lovely, delectible Susan. John had acted fast. With a young, naive visitor in his home, he must have decided to eliminate competition.
Bruce had watched John glancing at Susan, when John thought no one was looking.
Bruce had been rather surprised at the invitation to go on a picnic with the Wisters, but Carla had talked him into it. He had admired Carla from a distance for quite a few years. They had met at a few dances at the Elks, and he remembered her well before she had married John Wister.
So he had gone to please Carla, and to satisfy his curiosity about the girl visiting her.
Wister, Bruce never had liked. It was fairly common talk around town that John had a few girl friends up north, or at least one. Not just that alone-to Bruce, John always had seemed shallow and vain. The really handsome ones often were.
Of course, Wister had a lot of friends-he was congenial and outgoing. And he always had had a flair for the ladies, and they for him.
Bruce knew that some of his dislike was jealousy. Every man likes to believe he has attractions for the fair sex. Bruce had had his flings, too, as far as that went.
Slipping drugs into a can of beer was too much, however. And be damned if he wouldn't get even!
He glanced at his telephone. It still was early, only nine-thirty. He looked up the Wister number and dialed. After three rings, John answered. He sounded irritated.
"How's Carla?" Bruce asked.
"She's sleeping," John answered, impatiently. Then he added, as though as an afterthought. "How'd you make out, Bruce?" , "I recovered," he said. "You and Susan escaped the bug, I take it?"
"Sure. Lucky! That's me-"
"Just thought I'd check," Bruce answered. "The picnic was fine, otherwise. Give Susan my regards."
"Sure, sure, Bruce. Be seeing you."
The line went dead.
In one hell of a hurry to get rid of him! And maybe with good reason. There in the house with Susan-and Carla asleep.
Bruce puffed at a cigarette. He walked around, uneasily. Susan had made quite an impression on him. So damned young; And he didn't mind her shyness-it was rather refreshing in this day of continual woman chatter.
Another point that aroused his suspicions was the way John had gotten around bringing Susan to the phone. Common courtesy would have suggested it, since Bruce and Susan had planned a date for that evening.
He picked up the phone and dialed the number again. A busy signal.
He lit another cigarette. He waited a few minutes, then dialed again. Still the angry buzz of a tied-up line.
Furiously, he got up from his chair. He returned to the bedroom, flung his robe aside, and began to dress.
"I'm-awfully-sorry," Susan murmured, turning toward John.
He patted her, running his hand along her thighs, then up to her breasts again. The thrill was leaving.
"I am, too," he said, finally. "Just rest a while."
She felt glad now that he didn't want to talk. Her thoughts ran crazily. The waiting had done it, she was sure. She had been so fully awakened in the living room, wanting him then. Wanting him desperately to bring her to womanhood, wanting him to complete the act, inside her.
The long delay while he had gone in to be with Carla had allowed her too much time to think, to wonder. Her ardor cooled to the point where she had been unable to cooperate the way she should have.
Or was there something physically wrong with her? Was she too small for him?
Her hands clenched tightly. She had been so sure that John could lead her along the rosy path to fulfillment. In a way he had. She couldn't forget his consideration earlier in the evening, the exquisite pleasure he had aroused within her.
Had her guilt defeated her? Was she still so prim that she couldn't respond properly when the chance came?
Skillfully, John began to caress her again. But somehow it wasn't the same. Her doubts now were too inconsistent.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she said, softly.
"Ohhh-sure, sweetie."
She slid out of the bed on the other side, drawing the nightie back down over her figure. The dim light still burned. She just had started to turn the knob when she heard a furious pounding on the Wister front door.
John cursed, lividly. Susan ducked into the bathroom, but not before seeing John leap out of bed and dive for his pajamas. She closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, shivering.
That's it, she thought, and wondered why she experienced a wave of relief. Did she dread the next time? Her disappointment had been so keen.
Very faintly, she heard voices. The two men talking! She slipped out of the bathroom, found her robe and donned it. She glided to the bedroom door, her ears alert.
Who had called at the Wister house so late on Sunday evening? She listened, intently.
Then her heart gave a small leap. It was Bruce Leslie!
He had been very ill when they'd left the mountains, pale as a ghost. He certainly had recovered quickly.
She flushed, wondering why his presence, even beyond a door, should make her feel almost unclean, ashamed. Because she had permitted a married man to take her to bed?
"-late to be calling on anybody," John was saying, coolly.
"I came to see Susan, if I could," Bruce answered. "I think you remember that we had a date arranged."
"Sure, sure. But she's been in bed quite a while-"
"Would you mind seeing if she's asleep?"
Susan trembled, her guilt deepening. She couldn't see anybody, now. Not after....
"Yes, I do mind, Leslie," John said, angrily. This is my house-you come barging in here, wild-eyed...."
Suddenly, another voice broke the stillness. It was Carla.
"John, who's out there?" she asked sleepily.
Susan heard John curse. He answered shortly. "Go back to sleep!"
"I won't!" Carla cried. "I heard voices, and...."
Another sound came loudly. The bang of the front door. Bruce had pulled out!
Susan left the bedroom door and ran to her bed. She threw her robe on the floor, plunged between the sheets, and turned out the light. She lay there in the darkness, biting her lip, hearing John trying to coax Carla into being quiet.
What a horrible evening it had turned into! Things had started going wrong at the picnic, and except for the wonderful experience on the sofa with John, they had continued downhill.
She never had felt so shamed, so degraded in her life. Drinking beer and letting Carla's husband play with her, throwing herself at him! Finally, the most humiliating thing of all-being unable to receive him!
She drew her legs tightly together and wondered if she would ever feel warm and receptive again. She was cold now, cold to the marrow of her bones.
"What was Bruce doing here?" Carla asked. She was back in bed, becoming fuzzy again from the continued effect of the sleeping tablets.
"He came to see Susan," John answered, smoothly. "But she was asleep, and I told him so."
Inwardly, he still was cursing. Another damned interruption! Anyway, Leslie was gone, and there might still be a chance.
"I'm getting so-sleepy...." Carla murmured.
"Everything's all right, doll," he answered, concealing his impatience.
Now!
He closed the door, turning to go down the hallway a step to the guest bedroom. He was disgusted with himself for not being able to wait. He had had her all spread out, eager for it, then somehow his control had deserted him.
He opened the door to Susan's room. He was surprised to find the place in darkness.
Susan was aware of the door opening, and she sat upright in bed. Then she saw John's figure silhouetted in the doorway. Her confusion grew. She hadn't expected him to come back, but here he was!
"Everything's all right now, sweet," he whispered. "Carla's asleep-no more interruptions...."
She turned on the light at the head of the bed. She saw John smile and advance toward her. He still was handsome and assured, and she had to admire the way he had handled the situation.
But do I want Mm, now? she asked herself.
The sharp memory of her inadequacy, her failure, still hurt deeply.
"I know you're upset, probably," he said, softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Bruce came over-maybe you heard him. But it's all over, Susan. We're alone again."
"What did Bruce want?" she managed. "To see you, but I told him you were asleep." She nodded. It made her feel warm and appreciated that Bruce had thought of her.
John-leaned forward, his eyes burning into hers. "Susan, I want to stay in here, sweet. It's up to you." She trembled. Up to me!
She bit her lip. She knew the covers had fallen away from her bosom, and the fact that she didn't care must be part of the answer that seemed to rise within her, overwhelming all her newly-found resolve to refuse another woman's husband.
He was so good-looking, so virile, so earnest ... She smiled, leaning back on the pillow. I'm a harlot, a vixen!! But she couldn't deny the memory of that lovely interlude in the living room when John had pleased her, caressing all her secret places....
"Darling," he whispered, leaning over her. "I know we've been on pins and needles-that's what was the matter. Don't feel bad. It was my fault...."
Susan held her arms out. He groaned when his mouth came down on her upturned lips, now eager for his advances. A guilty thrill raced through her loins, along her thighs, up to her breasts.
He's taking all the blame-and it was really my fault, she thought. He's so generous.
CHAPTER TEN
Liz McGill, a neighbor of the Wisters, had been watching the activity next door with a great deal of interest. And since her husband, Ed, worked till quite late every Sunday at a bowling alley downtown, she had had the whole day to keep an eye on the Wister house.
She admitted she was nosey, and ever since this girl friend of Carla's had come to visit, she had suspected that Romeo John, as she thought of him, would be snarling around such a lovely young thing.
Liz had been raised 'across the tracks' in Linton, and she had known more about sex at fourteen than most girls did at twenty. Sex delighted her. She had no qualms about it within herself, though of course she couldn't be too bold around Ed, with his limited interest and drives.
She had learned at an early age to keep from getting pregnant. She had learned, too, that older, married men were the safest. They didn't talk, especially about affairs with a minor!
Considering her background and her eighth-grade education, she had married well. Ed had a good job on the railroad, and he worked extra around town, too. A good provider. She had had to be more careful about extra-curricular activities after she had hooked Ed, of course.
She had made up for it by taking an interest in her neighbors, by reading racy books and magazines, and by going to the most suggestive movies.
Even Romeo John.
She had spotted him instantly as a rake, a man forever on the prowl, but so far, she hadn't decided whether an affair with him would be worth the risk. At times Carla didn't seem too happy, but John probably had a few dames up north.
Now, sitting on the McGill front porch in the warm darkness, Liz had watched the arrival of Bruce Leslie's car, then his angry departure a few minutes later, and her curiosity had been tickled.
A window of the Wister guest bedroom faced the McGill house, so Liz had noticed the light being on so long in there, also the condition Carla had been in when John had brought her home from an outing they had gone on earlier that day.
The light had been turned off for a while. Then it was turned back on again!
With Carla ill, maybe John was making a little time with Susan! Liz had guessed that he would try, if he hadn't already. Liz had learned all about Susan, while having coffee with Carla only a few days earlier.
Susan was unmarried, and the way she acted showed she hadn't had much experience around men. What a shame! Sex was exciting and dangerous fun, especially with a new bed partner!
Liz mashed out her cigarette, and wandered off the McGill front porch. The street was dark and quiet, a typical suburban street on a Sunday evening.
She sauntered to the rear of the McGill home, then she cut across the lawn toward the Wister house. She didn't mind peeking when she could. She got a tremendous thrill out of it. Several times? she had watched the Larsons, who lived on the other side of the McGill's. She had discovered that they liked to do. it with a light on, and they had a bedroom blind that didn't go all the way down. Larson had a very young wife, and since he was approaching middle age, he sometimes had difficulty in satisfying his mate.
But Liz had tired of that. They always went through the same motions. All too quickly, too. She couldn't understand why people got in such a hurry about an act that was so utterly delightful. Liz had had difficulty with Ed, too. He still had trouble holding out unless he had had a few drinks.
She slipped up to the Wister guest bedroom, window, and sure enough, the drape wasn't entirely closed. She could look in without even standing on tiptoe!
Her eyes widened, in delighted surprise. The bed was quite near the window, and with the light on at the head of the bed, Liz could see clearly....
Romeo John was bending over Susan, kissing her and fiddling with her breasts, which he had obviously just lifted out of a pale yellow nightie. The way he acted, he had done that bit before!
Susan had kicked the covers back, and her long, lovely body was all there for him. The nightie was just in the way, really, her thighs....
"Ohhhh-" Susan whispered, as John left her mouth and began kissing her lower.
Liz smiled. This John was better than she had thought. He was taking his time, letting his hands roam around Susan's waist and hips, slipping along between her thighs-which the girl didn't even spread for him!
Liz was relieved when he finally slid the nightie out of the way. Her own breasts tingled as she watched John settle his mouth over a sharply erect nipple and tease it with his tongue. Susan's hands came up to his hair, where they weaved, nervously.
Liz smiled when she saw Susan's hips twitch. She should have done more than that, Liz knew, with John's hand where it was, between her thighs, easing them apart, teasing around the dark V of Susan's femininity.
The girl was either very dumb or naive. But Liz's estimation of Romeo John climbed several degrees. The guy had finesse. At least, so far. The last part of it was the real test.
Finally, he moved away from Susan and took off his robe. Susan lay there, outstretched, unmoving. What a dud! She should have been weaving her hips around, giving him a little come-on. From all that Liz had seen and heard, she was convinced that the majority of young married gals didn't know how to keep the man of the house even halfway satisfied.
But of course, Susan wasn't married. She might even be a virgin!
This will be something to enjoy! Liz told herself, smiling in the darkness.
When the pajama bottoms came away, Liz had a second welcome surprise. This John had the equipment, no doubt about that! And there the girl lay with her eyes closed, not even admiring the masculinity that would give her pleasure!
Liz shook her head.
The shy, bashful goody-goody girls gave her a pain. They weren't even living, half of them!
She recalled vividly the time she had been awakened. A man of about forty had come to visit her drunken father. Liz's mother hadn't been home. Gus had taken too much booze, and had gone to bed. That had left her alone in the living room with the visitor.
He had been so friendly, giving her a dollar to spend the next day, and telling her it was a big secret. She had been fourteen then. He had taken her in his lap and told her how beautiful she was, his hands growing bold. It had seemed so natural to return his affection!
His hands on her hard, young breasts and on her thighs had left a tantalizing memory. Later, he had been so careful, so considerate! She had let him play with her several times after that.
Now, John was on the bed with Susan. He stretched out beside her, his hand still wandering around her loins, as he raised on his elbow to kiss her mouth and her breasts.
At least the girl was arching her titties a little toward him!
"Ohhhh-John!" she gasped, as Liz saw his hand begin to play around in earnest. What a white, lovely body Susan had! Liz's own complexion was on the olive side, hinting at the Latin in her makeup. Her maiden name had been Cossetto.
Finally, the girl's hips began to move a little. That should come naturally!
When John drew her hand down to his masculinity, Liz's interest quickened. But the poor broad didn't know what to do!
Susan breathed faster, now. She was beginning really to enjoy herself. Liz smiled. If John knew his business, he would ease off, now, and let her wait a while.
Sure enough, he did! Liz decided she would have to have John, sooner or later.
"Ohhhh-please-!" Susan breathed, eagerly.
Thinking of herself only, Liz knew. She had been the same way the first few times, but of course, most girls could 'go' repeatedly if they were treated right, and if the man had control.
Liz watched, fascinated, as John made his next move. He didn't disappoint her. He leaned over Susan and began kissing her breasts again. And he really did a thorough job, moving lower, along her soft tummy, then back to the rigid, pink-nippled mounds.
Meanwhile, his brown hand roved along her soft white thighs until she spread them again, this time with much more enthusiasm and abandon. When he had thoroughly caressed the soft inner sides, his fingers moved to her femininity....
"Ohhhhh-" the girl gasped. "Ohhhhhh-John!"
Liz wiggled sensuously and smiled. There was no question now that she would have to lure John into a nice, sexy situation. She knew she could give him a few pointers on kisses, too....
As John played, slowly, Susan's hands locked in his hair His other hand moved to cup her rounded buttocks, lifting her hips.
Tremors began to shake Susan's body, her breasts grew more rigid. John finally had stopped kissing them, shifting to a more favorable position.
An expression of ecstatic joy transformed Susan's face. She tried to wiggle her hips, but John held her firmly, intent on his purpose. Liz approved of this. The young filly needed a lesson or two in prolonging the voluptas, just as most girls did before they were any good to a real man.
Susan writhed and panted. Her hands seized her taut breasts, squeezing and fondling. Liz knew the delights Susan was experiencing, the waves of passion, and Liz felt a jolt of envy.
One of the older, married men from whom Liz had taken presents had initiated her into the mysteries of such intimate fondlings. She had found it very pleasurable.
Liz smiled as John continued to play with Susan, making her plead for it. The girl was in a frenzy of wanting, now.
When he finally brought her to the peak of desire, she nearly threshed out of his hands!
"OH-OH-OH-OH-!" she cried.
She felt a vicarious thrill as the bed squeaked and as Susan's body jerked. She appeared to have had a very exquisite orgasm!
A moment or so later, John retreated from her, to stretch out beside her, cradling her lovely body. When she had quieted John made his next move, sliding between her already outspread thighs, his virility aiming at the logical goal. He braced himself above her, drawing one of her hands down.
Susan got the idea at last, and John tried to effect an entrance.
Liz smiled. Things might get even more interesting!
But as she watched she sensed that something was wrong. Susan appeared to go rigid, waiting. She held her breath. Then she gave a little yelp of pain!
Liz shook her head, disappointed. Either he was too large for her or she was too small for him. Or perhaps she hadn't, even yet, been brought to the proper point of accepting him, although Liz couldn't understand that. There was evidently a physical impediment. Too bad! She had read of such cases.
Then Susan was a virgin, or at least now a demi-virgin.
John tried again, but Susan continued to flinch and to ease away from him.
"Ohhhh-I'm so-sorry!" Susan cried, her voice charged with real regret and with keen disappointment.
Liz observed sweat on John's forehead, and she felt sorry for him, herself. He had been very patient....
This was a challenge for him now. Liz wondered what he would do. Susan's hand still held his masculinity.
"Move it-around-there!" he panted, still braced above Susan, and the expression on her face changed from one of pain to one of delight. Her hand moved faster.
"That's it!" he muttered.
His toes dug into the sheet, and Susan spread herself even more....
"Ohhhhh-John!" she moaned, writhing again.
Before long his hips weaved, a shudder wracked his lean body, and both of them cried out sharply.
Liz retreated from the bedroom window, smiling. She hugged her own aching breasts, and returned to her chair on the front porch. When Ed came home, he would get a very hot reception!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Susan awakened with a slight headache.
The bird songs outside the bedroom window failed to cheer her, as they often had in the past. She felt depleted, a sense of weariness coursing through her body. In spite of the sweet things John had done to her, giving her a new outlook on sex, in spite of the glorious excitements he had engineered so skillfully, she felt she had been used.
At the last, he had been almost coldly manipulative....
But I asked for it she thought, lifting her arms over her head and stretching. I was like a bitch in heat, wanting him to awaken me, to thrill me! And then, at the last moment, I FAILED!
That was the shameful and disappointing reality. Unable to receive a lover ... Inadequate!
John had been very considerate, really. He had tried to enter her, tried hard. And she had wanted him so fiercely, wanted him to make their union complete....
The next best thing had been lovely, reaching a pinnacle of joy at the same instant he had. She understood that and gloried in it, but she still was really untried. She had wanted it the way Carla had, there on the sofa.
Her arms dropped and she covered her face with her hands. She wondered if she could ever look John in the eye again, if she ever could go as far as she had again, with the awful knowledge that she probably would fail once more....
She sat up in bed, realizing suddenly that she still was naked, her nightie a crumpled wisp of yellow at the foot of the oversized Hollywood bed. She swung out of the sheets quickly, and donned her robe. She felt no pride in her figure now. It was something that had betrayed her. She didn't even want to look in the mirror. She had an idea that her inadequacy would be somehow imprinted on her personality, that it would be visible in her face.
I'm going to leave right away she decided. I don't want John to be disillusioned again.
Peraps this was better than having someone she might care more about discover her fault. Bruce Leslie, for instance-
John already was married, and he and Carla knew how to have the kind of fun in bed that a man and woman should have. Susan would have to get her romantic notions regarding John out of her thinking-for good! Knowing her inadequacy, John wouldn't be apt to try again.
And now, in a few moments, she would have to face Carla. Susan's shame deepened. If she had been successful in bed, the deception wouldn't be so difficult to live with. Now it was almost more than she could bear.
At least, John would be gone. She had heard him leave early. And he wouldn't be back until next Friday evening.
Susan moved toward the bathroom, hoping a good shower would brighten her outlook, wash away some of the guilt that had tainted her.
"Susan, you can't leave now, honey," Carla said, pouring more coffee.
The girls sat at the breakfast table, relaxing. "Bruce was here, last night, you know-"
How trusting she is, Susan thought.
"I-heard voices, but I was sleepy," she murmured.
"John hated to wake you, honey." In a pig's eye!
"That's all right, Carla. I guess if he's interested, he'll call me."
"Natch, honey. He will!" She leaned forward, smiling intimately. "I think Bruce really likes you. And I don't know one reason why he shouldn't!"
Susan ventured an answering smile. "You're very nice, Carla."
Sharing your husband with me, for one thing ...!
It seemed incredible that Carla didn't suspect, but as long as she didn't, perhaps Susan's visit in Linton should be extended. Her resolve of half an hour earlier began to evaporate.
She couldn't help thinking of John and of the exquisite, hour they had stolen. Except for the last, it had been all she had dreamed a culmination could be!
I'm weak she thought, secretly hoping for John again. Wanting to feel his hands on me!
She sipped her coffee, her fingers shaky. Carla was busy at the kitchen range. Apparently, she didn't notice.
Bruce Leslie sat at his desk and fidgeted. His salesmen all were busy. Monday business was good-he knew he should feel the keen competitive spirit that had made him one of the city's top car dealers.
But somehow this bright, clear day left him flat. Even the view of Kathy Hill, his blonde and curvesome office girl, didn't bring out a smile.
Kathy had been available for quite a while now. She had let Bruce know it in various subtle, feminine ways, like her announcement a month earlier that her divorce was final, and that she was going to stay single for a while and enjoy life.
At twenty-five or so, she had a lot of verve and class. Two of the salesmen had been panting around her for two weeks. Leslie had kept his distance, he knew most gals on the loose wanted marriage, if the right situation came along, and he didn't like her enough for that. A bit too glossy and too fast with the wisecracks. Still, she had certain charms that he knew would be available, and he hadn't had a satisfactory affair for quite a while.
What worried him wasn't Kathy, however. His thoughts were all on Susan.
How delightful, almost little-girl shy and artless Susan was! Almost unbelievable in this fast, modern age where girls like Kathy were the goals men sought. Wise, knowing, and a bit hard around the edges.
His fists knotted when he thought about the night before. Carla in bed, in her room alone, with John ranging the house, free to operate in Susan's direction. Bruce remembered the way Susan had responded to his kisses, the date they had planned.
She surely would be up by now. It was after ten o'clock. He didn't have to look up the Wister number; he knew it by heart.
He recognized Carla's voice, her familiar "Hi!"
"This is Big Bruce," he answered, his hand tightening on the receiver. "Is Susan around, handy?"
"Well, natch, Bruce. Just a second."
There was a brief lull, a whisper, then he heard Susan's voice. Even over the phone, it vibrated his nerves pleasantly.
"Hello, Bruce," she said, softly.
"How're things this morning, Susan?"
"All right, I guess."
"I'd still like a date."
He heard her breath as she drew it in. A small silence. He knew Carla was on his side. Maybe she was encouraging her guest.
"When?" Susan asked, at last.
She sounded interested. He smiled to himself, picturing her as he had seen her at the picnic. Slacks limning her ripely-contoured figure, her wide-apart brown eyes, so trusting....
"What about tonight, Susan?"
"I guess so...."
"Good! I'll be up around eight. Okay?"
"Are you feeling all right, after yesterday?" He laughed. "In the pink!" She answered with a reserved giggle, which surprised him.
Carla said something in the background that he couldn't hear, and the conversation ended on a pleasant note. He hung up, aware of a tightening band around his chest. Damned if he hadn't made it. John would be out of the way.
He tried not to think about what John might have tried with her, but if he had made a play, Susan still was willing to go out with another man. Maybe John boy had fouled up. Maybe Carla had intervened. She was a bright, lovely girl.
Bruce lit a cigarette and suddenly the sun, shining outside the office, had a brighter glow. He watched Kathy at the typewriter and decided that he might not want to date her, after all. Susan was worth two of her.
When Bruce arrived at eight, Susan was ready. Carla had told her to make him wait a while, but Susan didn't believe she should be too coy. After Sunday night's deception, she felt she should play it straight for as long as possible. Carla, gay and cooperative, still suspected nothing. This drove Susan's feeling of guilt even deeper. How could she ever make her treachery up to her best friend?
Susan's cares and worries vanished when Bruce led her into the Fantasy Room, Linton's best supper club, situated in the Empire Hotel. It was very exclusive, she knew, and dining here required a membership card.
She was glad she had worn her best dress-up gown of summery raw silk. While it wasn't as daringly cut at the throat as some of the things Carla had picked out for her, she knew it hugged her body in the right places.
The way Bruce's eyes lit up when she removed the detachable shoulder piece indicated that her choice hadn't been wrong. She had become more aware of her physical makeup, at least. If this was a step away from her innate shyness, she felt that the last weekend hadn't been a total loss, after all.
Bruce led her to a corner table which he evidently had reserved. The Monday night crowd was thin, but Susan didn't mind. There was a smooth, modern orchestra, a shiny dance floor, and the appointments were the most extravagant she had ever seen in Linton. Bruce was going all out to please her!
"Some of my pals are envious, already," he said, holding a chair for her.
She smiled. It was so dark in the club, she hadn't noticed anyone in particular, but now she did see a few men at the bar, looking their way.
"I'm glad," she answered.
She had made up her mind to be more communicative. Carla probably was right-a little attentiveness wouldn't hurt her cause.
"Don't be surprised if a few of them drop around, looking for an introduction," he cautioned.
"I think some of the women are watching you," she managed.
His smile broadened, his interest quickening. There was no doubting his strong masculine appeal-and of course he would be one of the most eligible men in the city:
The dinner progressed smoothly, enlivened by the good imported wine Bruce had suggested, a light Rose. When it was Anally over, Susan felt a warm glow like soft fire through her whole being.
Had John and Carla done her a favor? She tried to keep her thoughts away from the most carnal memories. John had used great finesse, but the whole thing had been marred by her feeling of guilt and by all the interruptions.
When Bruce asked her to dance, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to rise and to glide into his arms. After a few steps, when his hand tightened on hers, she melted against him, thrillingly aware of his strength, as she had been on the picnic when he had kissed her.
There were no nagging worries about being caught with Bruce Leslie. They were both of age, and both were legally unattached. Susan tried to avoid thinking about emotional attachments, however, even though she felt that John always would be involved in her thinking when it came to sexual relations.
He had been the first to arouse her....
On the other hand, a man like Bruce would have had any number of women, and he had survived. Couldn't a girl experience ecstasy with one man, and still be charming and at ease with another?
She gave herself up to enjoyment of the dance, and she sighed when it ended.
But there were more dances and more drinks. Before long, she was floating on a cloud of enjoyment and anticipation.
"I want to show you my apartment, Susan," Bruce said, when they were out in his car.
She moved near him in the seat and nodded, wordlessly. Something had built between them, a warmth and trust she never had experienced before. She shivered and wondered where the feeling would lead.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"WHAT'S the matter, John?" Elaine Biscomb inquired. "You act moony-"
He didn't answer right away. It was early Monday evening. He had made a few calls further north and had returned as far as General and Elaine's ranch house. He knew he should have stopped by to see her Friday night, and he almost had. The reason he had decided against stopping was obvious-he had wanted to get back to Linton and make a try for Susan.
Finding Carla so receptive had been a welcome surprise, and then Sunday night hadn't been bad, either! He had had Susan in every way but one. The way he had wanted most.
All day Monday, he had brooded about his failure-or Susan's. It had been a shock to his ego as a ladies' man. The damned timing hadn't helped-Carla's interruptions, then Brace's.
Sooner or later, John would get even with the brawny car dealer whom Carla had dragged between Susan and himself. Get him out of the way for good, because John couldn't wait to get his hands on Susan again. He had to prove that he could master her completely.
What a sweet dish! Responding to his every practiced caress, so eager....
Elaine's hand on his trousered thigh jerked him back to reality.
"I had a rough day, doll-baby, that's all."
"Well, you're here, anyway," she answered, her other hand slipping through his dark, wavy hair. "You haven't been playing around on me. have you, hon?"
He shrugged. "I have to keep my wife from getting suspicious."
She laughed. "I've seen her. I don't suppose you find that disagreeable!"
He slid an arm around Elaine, swallowing the answer he wanted to make. He knew he had to agree with her, had to baby her. She was his financial ace in the hole. The idea of losing part of his independence had seemed unimportant when he first had started dropping around to see the lush widow.
He began opening the front of her housecoat where her huge breasts curved outward.
"That's better, hon ... Mmmmm. Nummy, nummy!"
When Elaine was around her house, she never had much on, especially in summer. Today was no exception. Not even a bra.
He knew how she liked this part of it-his running his fingers around her breats, underneath them, then working out to the large, dark nipples. She relaxed in the crook of his arm, her eyes closed.
"You're an artist, hon," she breathed.
First one nipple, then the other grew erect and hard. They were like small, ripe plums, with olive circles around them.
It was time to kiss her, now. So he did. Her wide, red mouth received him, eagerly. Her tongue vibrated, sliding languidly in and out. Meanwhile he titilated her nipples, finally squeezing them hard, lifting them all the way out of the house coat. .
There was no mistaking her intense enjoyment, LUST LESSON? but he was far from as fully aroused as he should be at this stage of the game. Had the past weekened been too much for him?
Her eager, seeking hand soon took care of that. She began undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers caressed his own nipples.
He unbelted her house coat, finding her totally naked underneath, as he had suspected. Her waist had good lines. She was pround of her body, so he played around there a while before he moved lower to her generous hips, to her long, plump thighs.
He left her mouth, at last, his lips feeling bruised. She had a way of nibbling that irritated him, but it seemed to delight her. Her hands came under her thrusting breasts, now, lifting them high for the next act. Her nipples were rigid.
Dutifully, he kissed along the fragrant upper slopes and down between her breasts until she moaned with anticipation. He worked out teasingly toward a nipple, and when he took it in his mouth at last, she moaned and squirmed.
"Hon, you're getting better and better all the time! Bite it-just a little!"
He bit. Her thighs began to spread. Warm woman odor assailed his senses. He was being carried along by her lusty responses, as always, especially by the way she weaved her hips as he ran his fingers lightly along the tender inside area of her legs, higher and higher....
He mouthed the other nipple, greedily. She thrust her breast outward and upward, against his searching tongue.
When he touched her femininity she trembled, spreading even more. Her hips moved wantonly, suggestively....
She always liked a quick first one, before he even was undressed. She referred to it as 'the appetizer'. Sometimes she climaxed twice before they even were connected.
"Ohhhh-hon!" she panted. "I missed you so much!"
He continued to kiss and to nibble her breasts, while his hand toyed around between her thighs. He teased her.
"Hon-come on, now! Oh-this one is going to be good! That's it! Faster...!"
He moved as she bade, enjoying the tumult he caused. She vibrated in his grasp. He felt big now, no longer a near-failure as a salesman. He was doing what he was best qualified for, arousing a woman to fever pitch.
"Ohhh-hon! OH-OH-OH!" she cried. "This-is-it!"
Her hips lunged upward and she convulsed, her heels going thud, thud on the carpet.
John smiled to himself. The best was yet to come. She would be in the mood later to pick a few more of his bills the credit bureau had been hounding him for. She had plenty of loot....
In Bruce Leslie's apartment, Susan glanced about, in admiration. The contemporary furniture was in the best of taste, the carpet of light gold so thick that it felt like turf. She never had lived around people who could afford such luxury. It frightened her a little. She was flattered, too. She wondered how many young women around Linton would like to be in her shoes right now. Carla had told her that Bruce was very choosey, cautious. In fact, Carla knew a lot about Bruce.
"Have a seat while I mix a drink, Susan," he said, his hand tightening on her arm.
"I've had quite a few," she managed.
"Do you good, young woman!" he answered, lightly.
He excused himself and she wandered to the off-white sofa with its pilows that matched the carpet. The sofa gave beneath her weight, almost sensuously. Opening her small handbag, Susan checked her hair and her makeup. Both seemed in order. She took a deep breath. The music and dancing, the rich food and the drinks, and especially Bruce's admiring attention, all combined to lift her spirits higher than she could remember they ever had been.
She simply would have to forget John. He was limited. He couldn't show her a good time, dancing in public, taking her places.
When Bruce appeared with two tall drinks, she tried to let her smile show how much she appreciated this date. His answering smile, the way his eyes seemed to absorb her, almost to caress her, indicated he was receiving her message.
"I was worried about you last night, Susan. That's why I barged in at John's and Carla's. I thought you might have had a shot of food poisoning, too."
"I'm glad you came," she murmured.
But she didn't want to think about Sunday night, not now. The way Bruce looked at her, searchingly, she wondered if he had guessed her guilty secret. Letting John take her to bed, play with her body....
"Well!! Let's talk about tonight!" he said, winking.
She nodded, sipping her drink. It was smooth and delicious. She asked and found out that it was a vodka gimlet, stirred on a blender.
When the drinks were finished, he moved nearer. Susan held her breath.
"I want to kiss you again, Susan," Bruce murmured, his voice husky with emotion.
She wished again, as she had so many times, that she could be gay and flirty, an extrovert. She had done a little talking at dinner, telling Bruce something about her work, about where and how she lived. It appeared that Carla had already filled in some of Susan's background, when she had lived at Linton. But now....
"I'd like that," she said, letting her breath out.
Bruce's arms came around her, firmly, yet gently. It was different than on the dance floor, compelling now, and heady.
His lips brushed hers softly, at first. She trembled, little shivers running down her spine. She permitted her lips to open under his increased pressure, yielding against him.
A sound came from deep in his throat. His mouth became more demanding. Susan made herself relax, not that she didn't want to desperately, but she found it difficult to reach the peak of ardor she had when Bruce had kissed her on the forest trail the day before.
So much had happened between then and now!
She slipped her arms around his neck. His tongue began to probe excitingly, the way John's had, and she received the probing gladly. But some intangible element was missing. She wasn't enjoying Bruce's kiss the way she had John's!
Forget John she told herself, desperately. But it's so fresh in my memory....
When Bruce's hand lifted boldly to her breasts, she welcomed that, too. She wanted him to caress and fondle her until John was driven from her thoughts, completely.
Bruce drew away, slowly. He ran his fingers through her hair.
"Anything the matter, Susan?" he whispered, nibbling the lobe of her ear.
"No!" she said, fiercely.
But she knew she was telling a lie. Something was the matter. Sunday night had worked a kind of evil spell over her. The emotions she wanted to experience in Bruce's arms weren't flooding through her.
"Don't be afraid," he murmured. "If you don't feel like a necking party, it's all right, darling. I'm not going to rush you."
She could tell by the way he held her, by the intensity of his words and his caresses, that he wanted her very badly, and she didn't want to deny him. There was no wife to interfere; they were alone, safe in Bruce's apartment.
"Don't-stop," she heard herself say.
He kissed her, gently. "You're a lovely girl, Susan, and I'm flattered as the devil to have you here. But most of all I don't want to spoil this. I think I have moved too fast ... ,."
Impulsively, she kissed him back.
He understands! But if he knew the reason....
You're wonderful, Bruce!" she whispered.
He released her, slowly, and she felt guilty and tainted because he had found her unresponsive. Another failure!
She bit her lip, fighting tears. "Be damned!" he cried, patting her, taking out his handkerchief to wipe her cheek where the tears ran. "Susan, tell me about it, if you want to! Trust me ... "
She hugged him, hiding her face on his shoulder. "It's all right, Bruce. I've had a lovely evening!"
In every way but the most important one she told herself. Fresh out of John's arms, no wonder I can't respond!
"Fine, fine," he answered. "The main thing is, will you go out with me again?"
"Oh yes, Bruce!" she cried, her arms still around him.
He was so kind, so understanding!
"Like to talk about it, Susan??" he asked, finally.
She hesitated. "I can't, Bruce. And I wanted everything to be right-"
"Darling, it is right! Yes, I do want you in the worst way, but I've got a feeling you're upset about something, and I'm a very patient man. Now, don't worry. You mean a lot to me, Susan. I wouldn't spoil it for the world."
She hugged him again, warmly. "I'll be all right next time, Bruce. I promise!"
He patted her and moved away, smiling. He lit a cigarette. She noticed that his hands shook, slightly. She knew enough about the male animal, from her reading and from her limited experience, to realize that Bruce was making quite a sacrifice in her behalf. She had led him to believe that he would find her willing, all the way. And she had wanted to be-but of course, after Sunday night, she was emotionally exhausted, confused.
"Would you like to go for a drive in the fresh air, Susan?" he asked, holding her hand.
"Oh, yes! Really!"
When he brought her back to the Wister house, Susan was feeling much better. He had talked lightly most of the time, and he hadn't parked. Now, on the front steps, in the cool darkness, she leaned against him for his good-night kiss.
His mouth was tender, possessive. She melted in his arms, feeling nearer to him than she ever had before.
"When can we go out again, darling?" he whispered.
"Soon," she murmured. "Friday?"
She noded, feeling his arms tighten. "Just you and me," he said. She knew what he meant. He didn't want John and Carla around. "Yes!" she answered.
John was out of town, and she felt that, by Friday, she could collect her senses and rid herself of the notion that she was unsuccessful with men. Bruce would lead her-
His hand cupped her breasts lightly, and he kissed her again. She experienced a rush of warm gratitude, a kind of burning tingle that was completely new to her. Bruce wanted her in a different way than John had. There was a loving tenderness in his manner that had been entirely missing with John.
She thrilled to the tenderness, beginning to wonder if she wouldn't like to go back to his apartment again tonight!
"Ohhh, Bruce," she said, as his hand grew bolder.
He retreated, however, but not before he had caressed her again, had tasted her mouth to the full.
When she went in the house, she was riding on a cloud. Bruce was so wonderful! A glow radiated within her, sending tracers to her toes, her fingertips, her breasts!
Was this love?
Whatever the emotion, she gloried in it. Bruce cared for her, adored her, even though he hadn't taken her to bed.
She began to wonder if her watching of John and Carla hadn't led her to believe that erotic manipulations and overt sex play were the only important things between a man and woman.
There was that, of course, but she knew that there must be much more. And Bruce already had opened a new door in her life. She hugged herself, hoping she could erase the guilt with which John had burdened her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"WHAT'S the matter, hon?" Elaine Biscomb asked, thrusting her large hips even nearer.
John felt perspiration oozing out on his forehead, on his naked flanks, as his arm muscles quivered with fatigue. They were sprawled on Elaine's king-size bed, John braced above her, encased between her large, soft thighs.
"Let me rest a minute," he muttered, thickly.
Elaine giggled. Her legs dropped, and he fell away from her, onto his back.
"You're not up to par, hon," she said, patting him, playfully.
He groaned inwardly, wondering why he hadn't waited to return to General until the middle of the week. He never had 'run out of gas' with Elaine before.
The hot bitch!
She turned toward him, and he turned, too, caressing her hips, reaching with his mouth for an enlarged nipple. He popped it in between his lips, while her hand sought his masculinity and she did some caressing of her own.
"Hon, I wanted you to go with me on this one," she whispered, ruffling his hair.
"I will in a while," he answered, leaving her breasts momentarily. His hand moved between her thighs, where his fingers wandered around.
"Nummy, nummy-" she said, jerkily.
Slowly she rolled back, face upward, her legs spreading again. Her hips began to rotate.
"Oh hon! You're still good!" she gasped. He raised above her far enough to kiss her breasts again. The nipples were rigid, swollen with passion. He began to enjoy his work once more. Arousing any woman gave him a sense of power, unmatched anywhere.
Elaine had fine breasts, large and pointed. He knew she was proud of them, and with good reason. And he knew she liked to have them played with.
He continued to tease a nipple with his tongue, occasionally giving it a nibble, as he brought her nearer to her third climax. She had had two on the sofa!
Finally, he eased away from her, as she lay in panting anticipation. Her pose was wanton. Her hand reached for him. Her smooth, white thighs lifted, spreading.
'Now, hon! Now, you can make it!" she said. A throb of desire ran through him. He came above her, and she gasped.
"Ohhhh, hon! Wonderful!"
Her breasts seemed to gouge his chest as he was held firmly, and now that he had made his entrance, she began a series of slow, delightful movements. Around and around, then up and down, up and down....
"Ohhhh-hon! Give it to me-hard!"
The bed began to squeak and sigh.
He held her quiet a moment, making her wait, as shivers ran through her body, and certain experienced little tremors quickened about him.
"Ohhh-John! I know you want to make this one last and last-but I don't know-when we stopped a while ago, it just made me all the more anxious. Ohhhh-honey, please let me have it-now! I'll do anything you say, only move, or I'm going-to-Oh-oh-oh that's the way-deeper, faster-OHhhhhh! Ohhhhh-honey, Ohhhhh please-OH!-OH-OH-OH-OH! OHHHHHH!"
He felt her quake and shudder, as the bed springs creaked in protest.
A kind of agonized spasm ran through his own body. Her frantic motions and words triggered him-and just at the point when he had thought he was in complete control, he failed!
He seized her and exhausted himself on her still palpitating body.
Something sure as hell had happened to him. He knew Elaine would be after him again before long, demanding still another session on the bed, as usual.
And always before, he had been able to wait until she was near the end of her run, until she was sated, at last. He had been able to pretend and pretend, enjoying her acrobatics and passionate sallies until he was ready to join her.
Now, she was barely started, and he knew he was damn near finished for the evening!
Of course, there were other ways, but he had been through most of that. She would want him close and connected.
He cursed to himself. He fell away from her, sweating.
Maybe a few drinks would revive him. Elaine kept plenty of booze around. He would stall her for a while and make her wait a long time.
"You're so sweet, hon," she sighed, her fingers trailing along his chest. , He gritted his teeth and watched her body. It began to look different. Almost bloated, her breasts not so rigid, now.
The usual reaction after enjoyment with a woman he didn't care too much about. If he had saved himself, the prospect ahead wouldn't look so grim.
"I need a drink, sweetie," he said, moving out of her reach.
She opened her eyes, looking across at him. She giggled. "That was fun, John! I made you go the first time! I hope I won't be sorry, though...."
He made himself smile at her. He found it more of a strain than it ever had been. He wondered again what in hell was happening to him.
A little fun at home on the weekend never had bothered him before, but of course there had been Carla and Susan. He wouldn't have missed Susan for anything, not after waiting so long.
But something about his eagerness to enter her had thrown his timing off-the prospect had been too enticing. Now, his timing had blown up with Elaine, too.
He would have to watch it. What he needed was a good week of rest! He was like a fine athlete who had overdone. By Friday, he would be a new man again.
In his eagerness to clamp an eye on Susan again, he had come back to Linton earlier than usual. When he parked his Chevrolet in the driveway, it was barely three o'clock. He noticed that Susan's car was gone.
He pulled his briefcase out of the front seat of the Chevy and started toward the front door. The place was quiet. Maybe the girls were downtown shopping.
He hadn't stopped in General on the way to Linton. He had called Elaine, and had discovered that she was being visited by her sister from Seattle. That meant he would have at least a few days of rest. He was to call her back again on Monday.
John went in the house, finding no one home. He had hardly examined the guest bedroom, finding to his delight that Susan hadn't departed, when the phone rang.
Humming a tune, feeling a lift of spirits at the prospect of eyeing their naive young guest again, and possibly getting her into bed once more, he lifted the receiver.
"Oh-John?"
For a moment he was puzzled. A woman's voice, but he couldn't place it. "Sure. Who's this?"
"Your neighbor, Liz McGill, John," she said, softly, in a kind of secretive, friendly tone of voice. "I have something to tell you."
A vision of the large, buxom readhead sprang into his mind. He had noticed her several times, the way she wore her clothes, especially those slacks she seemed to favor, stretched across her curve-some hips over her rounded buttocks.
She and Carla had coffee together, occasionally. The redhead liked to joke, to kid around. She was lively-and sexy. A lot younger than her husband-and maybe in need?
At the moment he was too eager to try Susan again, however. Liz might do when nothing else was available.
"Go ahead and tell me," he said, pouring on the charm.
"Oh, I can't over the phone, John. I think you'd better drop over now. This is important."
He scowled. There was something in her voice that indicated he might be in some kind of spot. "Sure," he answered.
He dropped the receiver and shrugged. As long as the gals were downtown or someplace, he might as well get better acquainted with Liz. He had been aware of her full-lipped sensuality for a long time, and he hadn't missed watching her in the McGill back yard when she had worn shorts and a halter.
John ran a comb through his hair, grinned to himself, and went through the house, out the back door. The afternoon sun still was hot. He wondered what clothes Liz would be wearing.
Of course, Ed wouldn't be home. The way she had' talked, this little chit-chat was going to be strictly private.
When he strode up the back steps to the rear door, Liz was standing just inside the screen. She opened the door for him.
His eyes bugged. She had on a new shorts and halter outfit of bright green shiny material, and the two pieces didn't leave much to the imagination. She had a very light tan. Her auburn hair seemed darker in the shadowy kitchen. She had drawn the shades to keep out the afternoon sunshine.
Her mouth seemed redder and more alluring. Her features weren't perfect, but her delicately-shaded blue eyes and general glow of health made up the difference. Her breasts rode high and pointed under the skimpy halter.
"Ohhh-" she said, smiling. "Come on into my lair, John."
He grinned. He followed her toward the McGill living room, watching the wiggle of her generous hips in the green shorts. Neat, real neat.
She moved to the sofa, and he followed. It was rather shadowy in here, too, he noticed.
"Carla and your guest are downtown, John. I thought this was a good opportunity to talk to you, since Ed is out of town on a train run."
He watched her lean back against the sofa, keeping her shoulders back so that her jutting breasts were emphasized, alluringly.
"I don't quibble around, John, not like some of the gals you're used to. I call a spade a spade."
"You always were outspoken," he admitted.
"I want you to come over and see me tonight, John," she said casually, a knowing light in her eyes.
He blinked. "That's great, Liz-but I might have trouble making it...."
She smiled, slyly. "I think you'll find a way John. I saw something very interesting Sunday night in your guest bedroom. The drape wasn't quite together ... Something your little wife wouldn't want to know about, I'm sure."
He stiffened and felt his stomach turn over. He knew his smile was frozen, now.
The sneaky bitch! Peeping in windows-
He wet his lips, fighting for control, for an answer.
"I could tell Ed," he began.
She laughed, cozily. "John, you don't know women very well. Oh, I'll admit you're good in bed-I was really surprised at your technique. But I've got Ed in the palm of my hand, darling. And if he ever did believe you, he'd probably shoot you. Carla, now, she wouldn't kill anybody, but she'd kick you i out-and I don't think you'd want that."
He flushed. This gal was sharp. She knew her ground. He cleared his throat.
"Liz, take it easy! You didn't have to blackmail me into it. You've got plenty of solid attractions."
She smiled, slyly. "True, darling. But I'm not Susan, either. I know all about her, what a temptation it must be. A virgin ... waiting to be taken."
He gritted his teeth. No woman ever had talked to him this way. Somehow, the situation had gotten clear out of his control. He knew a divorce would cost him his job, and he needed it, even if he hadn't been very successful.
Elaine was getting restless, too. He had had the word from her, indirectly. He hadn't given her a very good show Monday night and Tuesday morning. He had been too pooped.
Now another dame was moving between himself and Susan! Not a bad dish, but she was appearing at the wrong time. The big lever Liz had was his desire for Susan. If Carla heard about it, he would be done. He would lose them both!
He pulled out a cigarette, and Liz took one, too. "Sure, Liz" he said, trying to make his voice bright and cheerful.
She smiled, sliding toward him. Her fleshy lips were moist, inviting.
"I think you'll like my experience better than Susan's inexperience! This shoud be a real bust!"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
John had just pulled a cold can of beer out of the refrigerator when he heard a car stop out in front. It sounded like Susan's Chevrolet. He glanced out of the window facing east, toward the McGill house, and cursed again.
The nosey bitch!
He had waited ever since Tuesday for a good shot at Susan, had even developed a plan to get her out alone, and now Liz McGill was going to torpedo the whole project. Somehow, he had to outsmart her. And soon!
The front door slammed, and he knew the girls had arrived. He wandered toward the living room.
"Hi, darling!" Carla cried, running to him. "We saw the car, so I knew you were home!"
Her open-mouthed kiss, the way she pushed herself against him, said she was in a reckless mood. He squeezed her and let her go, as Susan came through the front door.
"Hello, John," she said, rather coolly.
"You dolls both look great," he said, sensing a difference in Susan.
She wasn't giving him any charm at all. Of course, that was proper with Carla around. But she had changed.
His throat tightened when he looked her over. Her frock was more modest than Carla's, but it couldn't hide her plushy figure, notably the jut of her breasts. That naive, little girl walk of hers still jarred him.
Somehow, she didn't act as shy as before. Her remarks, as they visited informally, were more adult.
That damned Bruce Leslie had made some time, side of her panties. John had trouble keeping his turbulent emotions in check. When he thought about how close he had come to getting in there all the way himself, his hands trembled.
Susan excused herself and disappeared into the guest bedroom.
"Come on in our bedroom a sec, darling," Carla said, tugging on his arm. "I've got something to show you."
He had to keep up a front.
"Sure, doll," he answered.
She swayed against him as he moved down the hall and through the bedroom door. She pushed the door closed.
Before he could guess at her next move, she leaned in close, the cleavage between her breasts accented, because she had pulled the strapless frock lower as soon as the door was shut.
It looked as though Carla was ready for fun and games, too!
"I've missed you so much, darling," she whispered, thrusting her half-bared breasts nearer. "I need another kiss!"
He kissed her. Her lips opened and her tongue fluttered into his mouth. It probed around, skillfully. He felt himself responding. He ran his fingers along the upper slopes of her breasts, tugging at the bodice of her frock.
A thin band of elastic held it in place, and it came down easily. Her bra was almost nothing, two half-cups beneath, giving her breasts a slight up-tilt.
He toyed with the rosy nipples as she nibbled around his mouth. Finally she drew away far enough to murmur, "That's what I wanted to show you, darling. Like?"
"Great!" he said, smiling.
"I got it just for you, John. The latest thing in the 'natural' look!"
"What about the panties?" he asked, squeezing around.
She giggled. "You could find out for yourself, darling."
"Before dinner?"
"Well? There's no hurry. Susan's got a date with Bruce. We'll have the evening to ourselves."
He had trouble keeping his face straight. Bruce had been around, sure enough. To hide his momentary twinge of disappointment, he led Carla to the bed. They sat on the edge.
"What's the matter, John?"
"Nothing. You're terrific, doll. I want to find out about those panties."
She laughed softly, running her fingers along his thinly-trousered thigh. "No time like the present, darling!"
"But;-what about Susan?"
"She said she was going to take a beauty nap. It was so warm today-"
He watched Carla's arms raise, go over her shoulders to unhook her bra. When the bra fell' away, her breasts no longer were so pointedly accented, but they still were high and rigid enough to suit his taste.
"Help me with the frock, darling," she murmured, standing.
He smiled, reaching under her skirt. His hands glided up the backs of her thighs, warm and smooth to his touch. He patted her neatly rounded bottom, pulling her nearer.
She swayed toward him, aiming her breasts at his mouth. He fastened his lips on a rosebud nipple, and she ruffled his hair. Meanwhile, he continued to explore high beneath her frock. She wiggled.
"Susan and I saw an imported French movie this afternoon,' Carla said, taking a deep breath. "It was real sexy. It made me so hot, darling!"
"Good," he answered, inserting his fingers in' the band of her panties and beginning to ease them down.
"Darling, wait till I pull the dress off." In a few seconds she had the frock lifted, and she stood before him, with nothing on but the half-lowered panties. They were sheer black, lace-trimmed.
She giggled, weaving her hips sinuously, retreating from him, her finger rising to her breasts, where they traced the outline of each jutting mound.
"Now, you undress, darling," she whispered. "I'll dance for you!"
He smiled at her nearly naked body, wondering what had come over her. She never had acted so coquettish. Desire for her flared through him.
He stood up, removing his sport shirt, then his shoes and his trousers. When he got out of his jockey shorts, she gave a little laugh.
"You are excited, darling!"
"I haven't even started yet, doll," he muttered, reaching for her.
She backed away, giggling. She did a few delicate grinds that made his pulse hammer.
"That must have been some movie," he said.
"Natch! I think I'll go back tomorrow and see it again!"
He stole forward and caught her hand. She gave a small yelp. He pulled her closer.
Susan, unable to keep from hearing the voices in the master bedroom, especially with her own door ajar, again felt envy of Carla, but in a different way, now. Her main interest all week had centered on Bruce. He had called a few times, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.
John knew all the moves to make, but the words she had considered in regard to him returned to her thoughts. Coldly manipulative.
There had to be something more between a man and woman than passion and sex. More than expert caresses and excruciating delays. Of course, those were the basis of a good understanding, but there should be some respect and, in her estimation, freedom from a feeling of guilt.
John had educated her, all right, had shown her what to expect from a man, but he didn't excite her in the way he had at first. He had used her for his own satisfaction, really. He didn't intend to leave Carla, he hadn't even hinted at it. He had found Susan a ready plaything, and she was glad now he hadn't been able to complete the act.
The voices in the bedroom attracted her attention again. "Do something special for me, darling."
"How special?"
A small silence, then the squeak of the bed springs.
"Kiss me here, darling. Please!"
A short, throaty laugh. "Sure, but hold still...."
Carla giggled, her voice no longer teasing or flirty. "Ohhh-John ... Mmmmm...."
Susan's face turned hot. She pictured the two of them, naked oh the bed, with John caressing Carla, holding her tight, in a special way, and kissing, kissing....
She wanted to close her door, but she couldn't. The same compulsion she had experienced the Friday evening before now held her rigid. The bed began squeaking.
No question in her mind now, no doubt about what John was doing for her. Her little cries of pleasure continued to beat in Susan's ears, the way some foreign films were. The show had-
The movie they had seen had been suggestive, excited Susan, too, but she was determined to hold her emotions in check until Bruce wanted her enough to take her, completely. And she didn't want to fail him!
"Ohhh-darling-please...." came from the bedroom.
Susan bit her lip and closed the door, at last But even as she moved toward the bathroom to cool her face, she heard a sharp, joyful cry from Carla, and the sudden quake of the bed springs.
Susan was glad for Carla. A girl as likable, as friendly and responsive as she deserved to have a happy marriage. Susan only hoped John wouldn't some day disappoint her, as he had with herself on Sunday night.
Carla could receive him, though. Susan shook her head, deciding she needed a shower to cool her body, to refresh her thinking. She wanted to be at her best when Bruce came by to pick her up.
If only she could stop thinking about how she had cheated on her friend Carla. It had been so wrong. Yet she had to admit that stolen candy was always a bit sweeter.
John came out of the bathroom, where he had rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth. He looked down at the lovely picture his young wife made, spreadeagled on the counterpane.
His control was back, and he felt better about that. He hadn't permitted himself to rush into a culmination, despite the pleasure he had brought to Carla. Now, he wasn't sure.
She would expect him to take her the way he usually did. Well, why not? He had rested most of the week, insofar as women were concerned, at least. He knew he would be ready for Susan any time, if the opportunity arose. And somehow he would stall Liz McGill.
Why not? Carla stretched, wiggling sinuously.
"We're getting awful, John! The sun isn't even down yet." She looked at his naked manhood. She curled a finger at him, lifting one smooth, white leg in open invitation.
He walked to the edge of the bed, his eyes absorbing her blondeness, the upthrust rise of her breasts. If this only was Susan....
"Let's try a new position, hon," he said.
She giggled. "Mmmmm. How do you want me, darling?"
"Like to get on the floor on your hands and knees?"
She blinked. "Well, that would be different!"
He ran his hand over her breasts, feeling her nipples respond. Then he leaned down and popped a rosy nipple into his mouth. His hand slid along her soft belly, trailing lower, between her restless thighs.
He caressed her until her breath caught in her throat.
He watched her move off the bed onto the carpet, and now that he could see her from this new angle, he had no trouble imagining this was Susan he was about to approach-and to enter....
"Ohhhh-John...." Carla cried.
Somehow, now, he wanted to talk himself, wanted to further the illusion that he was making love to their houseguest, asking questions that he doubted Susan would answer.
"Is it good?"
"Oh-darling-Wonderful! I hope my arms don't get tired...."
"I can get deeper this way-see?"
"Ohhhh-yes!" she cried. "Mmmm-mmmm."
"How's that? And that?-and-that?"
"Oh!" she said, sharply. "Oh-my goodness-"
He was doing it to Susan now, and he moved swiftly, losing himself in the rising tide of desire. The soft, writhing body beneath him was Susan for sure, and he was inside her, at last.
Now, he said to himself. Now.
And the sharp gasp of release that jolted his ears told him he had been successful.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"HOW DO you feel, Susan?" Bruce asked, ushering her into his apartment.
"Fine, really," she answered, admiring his place again.
It was after eleven, now. They had gone for a long drive up Clear river, stopping at a few road houses for drinks and for dancing. They had a late dinner by candle-light. Both had dressed informally.
Susan was glad she had worn one of the new summer frocks Carla had picked out for her, a light green that contrasted well with her dark hair and her brown eyes.
It dipped lower in front than she was used to, but the response from Bruce had rewarded her. She felt much more relaxed with him than she ever had before.
"Like a drink, sweetie?" he asked, his hand tightening on her arm.
"I guess not, Bruce. I feel just right."
"Good!"
She discovered he liked to tease her, and the next remark from him didn't surprise her, as it might have earlier.
'You know I brought you up here for amoral purposes!"
She tried not to act confused, so she moved to the sofa, smiling at him. "You know I'm not good with the bright answers, Bruce."
He laughed, gliding down beside her. She felt a nutter of excitement. The dancing and the liquor had given her a boost. She wanted very much to be natural and at ease when the inevitable began.
I want him to take me, she thought, daringly. I want him to wipe out the guilt.
She had practically thrown herself at John....
"Does silence give consent, sweet?" he asked, slyly.
"I'm not running," she murmured, her cheeks warm.
He laughed again. "You're doing better, Susan. By the way, what do you think of the topless swim suits for girls?"
She flushed. "Not for me-"
His arm went around her shoulders. She noticed he had turned on only one dim light.
"You'd look terrific in any kind of suit," he said, his lips moving along her cheek. She trembled. He hadn't kissed her yet tonight, and she looked forward to it.
Am I too easy? she wondered. She sensed that he was used to the company of bright, modern girls, knowing girls who would know how to flirt and who could come back with the right answers.
She turned her mouth to him, and let her lips reply in the best way she knew how. The way his arm tightened, she knew that actions spoke louder than words.
His hand moved around her waist. She couldn't help sighing and melting in his arms. His tongue slid between her parted lips, teasingly, and she felt the eagerness of him, his strong masculine appeal.
Impulsively, she let her tongue answer. A sound came from deep in his throat.
"Susan-" he breathed, as their mouths parted, at last. "Susan, you're so young and fresh and sweet."
Delicious warmth enveloped her, the tingling desire she had wanted him to arouse.
"Ohh-Bruce!" she gasped, as his hand came up to cradle the thrust of her breasts.
I think I'm free of John, at last! she exulted.
Ever since Monday she had dreamed of being here, like this, of being wanted and held and caressed.
His fingers stole into the cleavage between her breasts, against the bare flesh. She had worn a very daring bra, one that Carla had suggested. It left the whole upper slopes of her breasts uncovered. And it hooked in the middle!
He found the tiny zipper then opened the top of her frock, and she shivered as the bodice lowered, slowly.
I must be awfully sex-hungry, she thought. But could she overcome all the years when she had no experience at all? Then the shock of learning so much in a single week-end-
I can't fail, she thought, desperately, as his hands wandered. Her flesh seemed to come alive under his caresses, and she held her breasts nearer, eagerly.
When the halves of her bra came apart, her breath drew in quickly. Her breasts felt so tight, so sensitive!
His mouth found hers again. This time her tongue seemed to come alive of its own accord. Desire curled through her breasts and her loins as he cupped her, fondling the nipples until she trembled.
"Susan!" he breathed, passionately, nibbling at her lips. "Sweetie, I wanted you the first day I saw you...."
She ran her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight.
Should I act the way Carla did? Wiggle my breasts in his hands and squirm my hips? I want to, but-maybe I shouldn't have watched them on the sofa, John and Carla, so deft and reckless....
She knew she was too shy, though. He would have to do it....
Now his hands moved to her nyloned knees, and began sliding under her skirt. Waves of desire warmed her as his fingers explored and caressed.
She felt his lips on her throat, where a pulse hammered furiously, then lower, lower-until he was kissing a nipple, teasing it with his tongue....
"Oh!" she said, her voice tight. "Ohhhhh-Bruce...."
This was right, now. It had to be!
Her fingers moved through his hair. Not as thick and curly as John's-
Forget him!
But she had no other means of comparison. No other man had ever gone so far with her, aroused her, until....
She made herself relax, giving in gladly to Bruce's mouth, to his hand. He was so gentle.
Finally, his hand withdrew, and he left her eager breasts. He whispered tightly in her ear. "We could do this better in the bedroom, sweetie."
She nodded, wordlessly. His mouth came down on hers again, moving back and forth, slowly. Her loins seemed to contract with a sweet ache. She wanted him, now, she wanted him very much.
He stood up, slowly, and lifted her by the elbows His arm came around her waist, leading her toward a doorway. Blood pounded in her ears, and they began a kind of high-pitched ringing.
They were in a luxurious bedroom, now. A tiny light at the head of the bed was the only illumination.
He's doing it differently than John ... Forget, forget!
Gently, he was removing her frock, his fingers caressing her thighs, her waist, her breasts, then reaching behind to cradle her rounded curves.
"You do the rest, sweetie," he whispered, as she noticed him pulling his sport shirt off his shoulders and loosening his trousers.
She turned away from him and removed her garter belt, her nylons and slippers. She was bare, except for her panties. She reached for them and he caught her from behind, his arms circling her.
"I'll do those, sweet," he murmured, cupping her rigid breasts.
She was instantly aware of his desire, his masculinity. He kissed her shoulder, his fingers squeezing her breasts until she felt a wave of passion surge through her. Her knees grew watery.
He led her to the bed, half-lifting her around on it until she was stretched out, his strong body lightly tanned, bending over her.
II John had never touched me, this would be all new and untarnished. Do I wish Bruce had played with me more out on the sofa?
The bed gave with his weight as he lowered himself down beside her. She held out her arms.
Make me forget John ever lived! she begged, silently.
She heard him moan as he began removing her panties. She raised her hips, receiving his caress again. She lifted one leg and kicked the wisp of nylon aside. Her thighs seemed to spread of their own volition.
"Ohhh-play with me!" she heard herself say, fiercely.
I must be ready for him. I don't want to fail ... not again!
Another moan escaped him, and she gloried in his firm stroking of her belly and her secret place of passion-
She felt her fingers digging into his shoulders, and when his mouth found her breasts again, she moved her hips, spreading.
He came over her, quickly. He was above her now, his hands holding her, drawing her nearer and nearer.
Waves of sweet anticipation flooded through her. She wanted him, now!
She felt his masculinity against her. Gently, slowly....
An involuntary shudder went through her. She felt a sharp hurt-and she winced. He muttered a few words under his breath. He tried again.
Oh! What's the matter with me?
She couldn't help flinching again. She heard him gasp, his fingers dug into her flesh, and a spasm shook his lean figure. She felt his manhood flowing out on her, and she almost shouted aloud with her terrible disappointment....
He groaned and sank down beside her.
"I'm sorry!" he said, hoarsely. "Susan-I'm sorry!"
She turned to him, impulsively. Words sprang into her dry and tortured throat. "It's my fault, Bruce-my fault...."
"No, no!" he answered.
Then his hands were on her, touching her, fondling her, and the waves of desire returned, swiftly, achingly.
He kissed her breasts and she felt him play with her and suddenly she was being lifted and lifted, soaring away up in the clouds, where she drifted and floated, until she heard a sharp cry of wild joy-and everything within her seemed to explode and come apart....
Bruce was cuddling her, patting her, whispering lovely words in her ear.
She sighed, the ache in her loins now gone, replaced by a balm of relief and comfort.
Then, without knowing why, tears started out of the corners of her eyes.
"Sweetie," he murmured, passionately. "Sweetie, don't cry! It's all right-understand? It's all right! I love you even more, really! Don't worry about it. I was too eager. I know it-I've thought about you so much, wanted you so much. But the next time will be different, sweet. Believe me!"
She hugged him until her arms hurt.
"Oh-Bruce!" was all she could say.
His hands and his mouth woke her out of a misty half-dream.
"It's going to be better this time, sweet," he murmured, nibbling her ear lobe.
She nodded, feeling warm and cozy. He drew her hand down to his masculinity, and she felt desire again, not as sharply as before, but compelling nonetheless.
In the relaxed intimacy of the shadowy bedroom, safe from worry, she felt a strong impulse to ask him why.
She wanted to know the reason for her inadequacy. From all she had read, she knew that neither John nor Bruce were unusually large. It seemed un-likely that she was too small. She had had annual checkups for years, her doctor in California had been very thorough indeed. And the first such examination had shocked her modesty. He would have noted any physical irregularity.
It had to go deeper.
Her thoughts hovered around the rim of the terror she had endured at the hands of a rapist. It had happened right here in Linton, when she was fourteen.
She trembled, thrusting the memory away. She had been free of that for so many years, she didn't want to reawaken the sordid remembrances. It had no place in her life, now.
With John she could have had a psychological block. Her sense of guilt, despite her passion, could have prevented him from deflowering her, her subconscious fighting his entrance, no matter how much she had wanted it, consciously.
But now, with Bruce, it had happened again. He had aroused her fully, to the point where she had been frantic to receive him-and she still had tasted defeat.
I won't be a real woman until I am made whole with a man.
Bruce's hands and his mouth sent her thoughts of the past flying out of the window. He was here, now, caressing her, placing her hand where she wanted it ... moving his hands where she wanted them.
Her hips weaved as the tempo of his lovemaking increased. She never had felt so sexy, so abandoned, as his fingers played along her thighs, around her loins, skillully caressing all the soft, tender places that sent new thrills chasing through her eager body.
He began kissing her breasts thoroughly, covering every inch of them, the valley between them, but always back to the tight, sensitive nipples, until' her breath caught in her throat. She reached for him again.
"This one is just for you, sweetie," he murmured, his kisses becoming bolder.
"Ohhhhhh Bruce!" she cried, as he slid one leg between hers, his mouth now on her throat where she knew her pulse beat swiftly, joyously.
Her hands ran through his hair as he continued to toy with her body, slowly, surely. Every nerve in her being was radiantly alive, responding to his gentle caresses.
She moved her hips against his thighs.
His hand slipped lower, tracing a delightful pattern across her tummy and the joining of her thighs. His fingers were so daring....
Shudders of joy raced along her loins, her femininity.
As thrill after thrill shook her, she felt his lips return to her breasts-his lips and his tongue toyed with the rigid nipples....
"Oh-oh-ohhhhh!" she moaned. Bruce paused.
Susan remembered Carla's ecstatic cries, her whimpers and pleadings, now she undertsood them fully.
Her hips thrust upward, eagerly, because she could hardly wait for that wonderful, swooning sensation another's hands had aroused.
Bruce was going to delay her and delay her and play with her until she would practically faint in' his grasp....
Oh Bruce! she thought, dizzily. Do everything you can to make me able to receive you. Everything and anything....
She didn't know how long it lasted-she lost all track of time, of every outside influence except the wonderful nuances of rapture Bruce so deftly created.
He led her carefully, sweetly ... He lifted his mouth from her breasts, his hand quieting.
"Ohhhh, darling!" she cried, passionately. "Don't stop!"
Ever so slowly and gently, he began again. Her breath caught in her throat. She writhed, gasping for release....
The waves of delight quickened. She felt that? she was being swamped in them. She drew her legs up high as he held her with both hands now.
A sweet tingling, almost like pain, enveloped her. Her breasts ached. Her fingers bit into his shoulders. Searing waves of desire made her tremble and shake.
"Ohhhh-Bruce-Please! NOW!"
What he did next almost tore her apart...."Ohhhh-OH-OH-OH-OHHHHHH!" she cried.
Then fierce, hot undulations wracked her pelvis, wave after wave after wave....
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"It's about time you got here," Liz McGill said, opening the back door for John.
He nodded, managed a grin, and slipped inside. A kind of musky incense pervaded the air.
He had been lucky with Carla. After a late lunch, she had been sleepy, and he had told her he would like to go downtown for a while and have a few beers. She had agreed, after he had tucked her into bed. The last time around in the same room, a bit earlier, had left her somewhat limp, but happy.
The redhead, he noticed, wore very snug lounging pajamas that limned every contour of her lush, sexy figure.
Her makeup was a bit garish, but it fitted her personality. Her hair swept down to her shoulders, not in the latest style, but just right for her. She took his hand and led him into the McGill living room.
She turned off the TV set that she had been watching and sat on a sofa, crossing her longish legs, fingering the button at the throat of her slinky pajama top. He couldn't help but note the thrust of her breasts, the way they tapered to sharp peaks, with a jiggle that said she didn't have much on underneath.
"Come on over here, John," she said, winking at him, patting the sofa beside her. She wasn't wasting any time. "You're little wife detain you for a while?"
John flushed, reaching for a smoke. But he moved to the sofa. Things hadn't gone right, at all. His chances with Susan appeared to have almost faded. She was out alone with Bruce. The thought of the older man succeeding where he had failed had been haunting him all evening.
Now, if he couldn't talk Liz out of a deal, he wouldn't be in top shape to make another try at the young, ripe guest.
She blinked at him. "Money? You're amusing, Johnny, really. I don't treasure it the way some people do. Ed makes enough. I just like sex, and I know you won't talk about it!"
He squirmed. "You're blackmailing me-"
"Call it anything you like, lover. I'm not young and innocent like Susan. I kind of envied what you two were doing!"
He inhaled, deeply. Elaine talked frankly, but not as brazenly as Liz. She must be some kind of nympho! Why in hell had she picked on him?
"I can lead, lover, if it'll help," she murmured, leaning closer. Her hand patted his thigh.
He knew then he was trapped. He hoped Carla or one of the neighbors wouldn't see the Wister car parked in the alley behind the McGill garage. He had started for town, then had turned to come back into the alley.
"You got a beer around, Liz?" he asked.
"Oh sure, lover."
Carla wouldn't object if he came home with malt on his breath. But sometimes she watched the bedside electric clock.
He watched Liz undulate toward the kitchen, heard the refrigerator door open, then presently the pop of a can being punctured. She came back, holding two beers. He took one, gratefully. He would have to get used to the idea. Still, he mused, he was bedding one dame for money already. Maybe horsing around with another one to keep her mouth shut wouldn't be too bad. A conquest always intrigued him.
"I've got some good sexy photos, if that would help," Liz said, lightly, a smile on her plushy mouth.
Man, she must be a nympho-a dame with a gallery of smut pictures.
He shook his head, watching the jut of her pointed breasts. He noticed that she was aware of his scrutiny.
"I'm real proud of these, lover," she said, laughing at him, her hands lifting to the sharply-pointed cones so alluringly cradled by the shiny material. I diet and exercise and keep in shape. Aren't you curious?"
"I've been curious for a long time, Liz," he muttered.
"That's better! I like to talk about sex. Ed doesn't, so I don't have a chance very often. I think it's the most interesting subject there is...."
He smiled. "Just talk?"
She put down her can of beer. "Questions, questions? Why don't you find out, lover?"
He reached for her. She giggled, sticking out her tongue. He slid an arm around her waist, finding her lithe and cushiony, a neat combination of charms.
"I warn you, though, John-I like a lot of teasing around-"
"Fine. So do I."
She squirmed, holding her mouth at the right angle. One of her knees touched his trousered thigh-it seemed to burn. Her lips opened smoothly and hungrily, her arms came around his shoulders. Her, tongue danced and shot stabbingly into his mouth. Passion curled through his belly.
It didn't take him long to find out that she wanted to be the aggressor, and her strength surprised him. Her mouth worked around on his until he felt bruised, and she was bringing a hot response inside him.
Her breasts seemed to stab at him, like lances. Her fingers found his passion, and eagerly she began to undress him.
He never had been tackled like this by any dame, and it shook him. There was something a bit degrading in letting her take the initiative, putting him in a secondary status. But he knew there wasn't a hell of a lot he could do about it.
Before long he was down to his shorts and socks-and Liz still had her pajama outfit on.
When he reached for a taut breast, it was she who undid the buttons in front. She pushed him away while she shrugged out of the filmy garment. Her large, tapered breasts seemed to be suspended by invisible wires, defying the law of gravity!
She wiggled them, bouncing them with a movement of her wide shoulders. He couldn't help himself when he reached for them.
"Not-yet-lover," she said, unevenly, sliding off the sofa. She stood in front of him, starting to slide the pajama bottoms down over her generous hips. She swayed, sinuously.
"Take your shorts off, lover," she murmured, her tongue fluttering between her fleshy lips.
The rest of her garment dropped. She was naked now, except for her slippers.
He stared at her, his hunger mounting. She was all ripe, sexy abandon, now, her thighs weaving apart, then back together, as she did a kind of dance in front of him. Now and then, she made a lunging, nerve-tingling movement with her hips that sent blood pounding in his ears. Her hands drifted upward to cradle her jutting breasts, caress the nipples, delicately....
"I get real hot this way, lover," she said, jerkily.
He jerked his shorts away. He started to rise, groping for her, and she danced backward, teasingly.
"Just a little-longer, lover," she murmured, her eyes on his manhood.
Her hips vibrated like those of a South Sea Island maiden doing a mating dance. Her breasts jiggled, the nipples sharply rigid.
"Sit down!" she panted.
John backed to the sofa again and sat. He was hypnotized, burning all over for the feel of her eager flesh.
Her movements slowed, she gave several emphatic grinds which John had seen strippers execute. Every contour of her womanhood was exposed for his eager eyes.
Suddenly she came against him, astride his knees, her hand gripping his masculinity. Her elongated breasts stabbed his naked chest. The woman odor and woman-passion almost smothered him.
"OH!" she cried sharply, as they joined. "Ohhhh
-give it to me-hard!"
He found he didn't have to move. She squirmed wildly, her nails gouging his shoulders. The sofa squeaked, swiftly. He nearly passed out, feeling his desire come to a nerve-shattering culmination. Liz yelped and gripped him, hard.
He felt her climax come in rapid waves, shaking him to his toes. He never had had a woman enjoy it so much....
"We'll go to the bedroom now, lover," he heard her say, patting his chest. "You're quite a man-you should be good for a lot of thrills!"
When he stretched out on the bed, she moved over him almost immediately. Aggressive and eager, her breasts hanging down where he could dally to his heart's content. She was primitive and compelling. His resolve to use control was shot. He knew he couldn't, not with a tigress like this.
Her fingers coaxed his manhood.
"I have one hell of a time getting enough of this, lover," she said jerkily. "And I'm particular, too! Don't you like my body? I told you, I watch my figure like a hawk. There! Now, we'll have some real fun! Mmmmmmmm. Nice and deep!! Does your little wife appreciate this, lover? She should! This will be a real bust, believe me. No, you just let me do it! Mmmmmmm. See? I've waited quite a while for this, lover...."
As the bed sighed, John wondered how long she was going to keep him there. Then, in a few moments, he didn't give a damn. Liz was an artist, a real bedroom acrobat....
When Susan came home at last, the house was very quiet. She had noticed that John's car was gone, and she decided he and Carla might have gone downtown. Still, it was very late.
She slipped into her room, closed the door and sighed. She was tired. Bruce had been extremely thoughtful and considerate-but the fact remained that he hadn't pierced her virginity.
He had told her it didn't matter, that he loved her, that he wanted to see her again, but another fact loomed out of the shadowy bedroom.
He hadn't mentioned marriage....
How could he want a girl he couldn't take as a woman should be taken?
She threw her handbag on the guest bed and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her lips seemed puffy, her lipstick almost gone. Her body, in the delectable frock, looked the same. Small shadows under her large brown eyes attested to her nervous state, but in her own mind, she still seemed like a girl instead of a woman. She bit her lip, turning from the mirror.
Slowly, she began to undress.
Everything had been glorious until the last. She felt more secure in her knowledge of what a girl was supposed to do for a man, even if she hadn't been able to perform.
Bruce had brought her sweet release. She knew the thrill of being possessed-her climax with him had been so much more gratifying than with John, even if John had been the first.
In the morning she would have to decide what to do about her inadequacy. Perhaps a talk with a different physician, one who might make suggestions....
Bruce wanted to take her out again Sunday night. And she had promised to go. Maybe by then she could relax. Or perhaps their relations wouldn't go so far as to bring her another disappointment. Monday she would ask Carla about a local doctor. She knew it was almost impossible to get an appointment on Saturday, the following day. Especially, since she would be a new patient.
She went to sleep quickly, nursing the new hope.
John parked the Wister car in front of his house and groped for a cigarette. It was nearly three in the morning. He never had been so sexually pooped in his life. Even the thought of Susan didn't stir him.
Liz was a terror, almost insatiable. The bitch had drained him dry!
He cursed. A bedroom drapery, slightly parted, had riddled his plans.
Somehow, he had to get the slut off his back. Because she already had demanded a repeat performance-Sunday night. And Monday he would be due back at General again to see Elaine Biscomb!
At one time in his life, not long after the first newness had worn off his marriage to Carla, he had dreamed of having several hot-blooded dames available.
Now, he had too damned many. And the one he wanted the most would be impossible to reach, unless he could change the vicious pattern of events.
He cursed again and climbed out of the car. He shook his head, weaving a bit as he walked toward the house. Small dots of light bounced in front of his eyes. His ears rang.
Too much woman....
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"Well, how was your date, Susan?" Carla asked, flashing her guest a smile.
It was late on Saturday morning. Carla had risen early to make breakfast, and now the two girls sat sipping coffee. John hadn't yet made an appearance.
Susan flushed. "Wonderful-for me."
"What do you mean?" Carla inquired.
Susan hesitated. She wanted to tell someone who would understand, but her problem was delicate. However, Carla had been a friend since they were in grade school together, and surely Carla would be preferable over some strange doctor who would probe coldly about and ask too many sly questions. She trusted the medical profession for routine checkups, but not for something as personal as this.
Susan leaned forward. The kitchen was cool and quiet. The sun shone pleasantly outside. Far away a lawn mower buzzed. Carla looked very considerate.
"I'm having difficulty with Bruce," Susan said, bravely.
Carla put down her cup. "Honey-what do you mean? You know you can confide in me."
Susan knew her face was warm. But her experience over the past two weekends had made her less shy. Part of her confusion came from the fact that she had also had trouble with John.
"We get along swell, really," Susan said, her words rushing out swiftly, now. "He said he loves me, and I'm crazy about him-but-well, we tried-and I'm still a-virgin!"
Susan felt her friend's hand close over hers, squeezing.
"Honey, I'm so sorry!" Carla cried. Is it something physical? I mean, there are doctors...."
"I-I'm sure it isn't-" Susan answered, looking the other direction, out of the kitchen window. "I think I'm still afraid."
Carla shook her head. "I know! That time this man tried to rape you. You're still thinking about it, deep inside. Listen, honey! I know you're older than most girls when they try with a man, the first time. And it's bound to hurt a little. I know I did, with John." Her voice lowered, confidentially.
Let's go in your room, where we can talk better, okay?"
Susan nodded, smiling. She was so glad she could tell someone, at least about Bruce!
Once in the guest bedroom, Susan heard Carla lock the door. She was glad, really. Then John wouldn't come bolting in and spoil things, now that she finally had decided to tell her friend her intimate problem.
As though by mutual consent, the girls sat on the edge of the bed. Susan opened her robe. The air was warming. Saturday would be another hot summer day.
"Did Bruce play with you, honey?" Carla asked, smiling excitedly.
Susan nodded, feeling not so confused as she might have, even a week earlier. She never had talked 'sexy' with a girl before, not even with Carla, and it thrilled her, somehow.
"He was very manly," Susan admitted, her right hand almost involuntarily rising to the thrust of her breasts, barely concealed by her skimpy nightie.
Carla giggled. "Did you have a real hot climax, honey?"
"Ohhhhh-yes!"
"More than one?"
"I guess I kind of lost count...."
"You're wonderful, Susan! I'm so glad for you! So you see, you did have fun!"
"But Bruce was disappointed, I know."
"Bruce will be all right," Carla said, confidently. "And you will, too, after a few more dates." She slid nearer to Susan.
"I've read a lot about things, Susan, and I've talked to my doctor a lot. I know I can help you, too, honey."
Susan drew a deep breath. "Oh, I knew you'd do what you could! It's funny, after all these years, we can finally talk so frankly!"
Carla giggled, her arm circling Susan's waist. "Men are nice, but girls can understand each other better," she said.
Susan felt Carla's hand glide slowly upward. Susan experienced a light wave of desire. All this sexy talk had aroused her, in a new and different way. She wasn't sure that what Carla was doing could be right, but in the intimacy of the locked bedroom, the feel of her friend's fingers tracing the pout of her breasts was extremely thrilling.
She had read somewhere about women making love, and she admitted that there were certain advantages....
"I can help you, Susan," Carla breathed in her ear, lowering the strap of Susan's nightie. She guided Susan's hand to her own tautly pouting breasts.
I'm not afraid Susan said, almost unbelievingly, to herself. I think I've always admired Carla's body, her breasts!
Carla had been her one true friend, through thick and thin. Now, if Carla found some pleasure in this, in helping her prepare her body for Bruce, she wasn't going to back away!
"Kiss me, Susan," Carla breathed, her breath uneven.
Susan turned her head to meet Carla's lips. How strange! Carla was so delicate and gentle, her tongue flutterly, yet insistent.
"Mmmmmmm-" Carla sighed, giggling. "Let's sprawl out on the bed, honey. No need to be bashful. I'm sure that I can awaken you enough so that Bruce won't have any more trouble, and we'll have so much fun!"
Susan laughed. She wondered if she ought to be shocked. But she was past that, now. Carla was taking Susan's nightie off, slowly and caressingly, her fingers slipping along between Susan's eager thighs.
Carla was naked now, too. Susan enjoyed the sight of Carla's blondeness, contrasted with her own dark femininity. Carla did have the body, in some respects, of a young man. She was slender and supple, despite a certain feminine width at the hips.
They were side by side, now. Susan drew one leg up, as Carla's fingers ran all around her hips and in between her thighs....
"Play with me, too, honey," Carla breathed.
Susan nodded. She didn't want to break the spell. It was too new, too exciting. Eagerly, her hands found the hard mounds of Carla's breasts, where she toyed with the stiffening nipples.
But Carla was the aggressor. Finally, Susan lay back, almost gasping at the daring things Carla was doing, as little chills of pleasure kited along her spine....
"Relax, now, honey," Carla breathed in her ear. The blonde girl moved above her. Almost automatically, Susan's hands lifted to cup the hard mounds of Carla's breasts. She caressed them.
"That's it, honey," Carla murmured. "I want to give you a lesson in love."
Susan shivered as Carla leaned down, pressing her body against Susan's, her mouth settling on an eager nipple.
Susan hugged her tightly as delicious thrills rippled through her body.
"Pretend like I'm Bruce," Carla whispered, nuzzling Susan's other breast. "I know Bruce is going to enter you soon, honey, but you can practice the movements. Go ahead, now!"
Susan trembled, joyfully. Carla was so considerate! Susan knew she did need to learn!
She writhed her hips upward. Carla's body met hers.
"Wrap your legs around me, honey," Carla's voice crooned. Be passionate, now!"
She moved her hips as Carla raised enough to give her room. How wonderful! She found the rhythm easily, naturally. Delightful, forbidden tingles enveloped her loins, she was thrusting upward now, more swiftly....
"Ohhhh-hon-ey!" Carla cried, as she began to return the caresses.
Susan heard the bed springs squeaking, and so many daring, sexy things leaped into her mind at the suggestive sound. She remembered the sigh of the sofa in the living room when John and Carla had played around, the beat of the bedroom furniture when the pair had made love in there, and a flood of sweet desire raged through her.
She was relaxed, now. There was no fear, no anxiety. Carla knew all the sweet, daring things to do. Susan felt suddenly that she could receive Bruce, receive him gladly, now. A mental block had been removed. Her inability to be initiated earlier had been in her mind, psychological.
She felt unrestrained, so eager. She knew this was the way it would be when Bruce did take her the next time.
"Come on now, honey," Carla coaxed, her breath jerky. "Move around-tease me."
Susan cried out gladly, and moved as Carla had directed.
How very wonderful and exciting!
"I'm Bruce, now, honey-please me, love me!" Carla gasped.
Susan grasped the body above her and began sinking into a haze of desire, of delicious wanting.
The sweet, hot waves began to wash through her. She strained feverishly, gladly, and as the springs of the bed quickened their squeaking, she knew she was responsible, and all the fears and doubts left her. This was Bruce!
She was in a frenzy now, and finally her own wild cry of joy was echoed above her, and the body she held trembled and shook in what she knew was a spasm of ecstatic release.
"Now, how do you feel honey?" Carla said, teasingly.
"Ohhh-really wonderful, Carla!"
The blonde girl smiled. They were side by side now, relaxing after the brief but violent storm of passion.
Susan never had felt so grateful to anyone in her life. How natural it seemed to be able to please the friend who had gone to so much trouble to find her a robust lover in Bruce, and who hadn't said a word about what she and John might have done when her back was turned.
"After awhile, if you want to, honey, I'll show you some other things a man likes...."
"I guess I'm pretty darn dumb," Susan said.
"You're learning, honey. And I'll bet Bruce showed you a few things, too-"
Susan giggled. "I told you about that-"
Carla smiled, her hand sliding over to gently cradle Susan's breast. Susan accepted the comforting gesture with real appreciation.
Should I tell her about John? she wondered, suddenly.
She bit her lip, afraid the pleasant, cozy mood would vanish.
Susan felt her friend's finger on her lips. "Don't honey, if it's going to hurt. You've been hurt enough, I think. The future is what counts, really."
Susan could hardly believe her ears. Did Carla know? She turned quickly to look into the blue, smiling eyes of her best friend-and now her lover!
"Just the future, Susan, and the best parts of the past. We've all done a few sneaky things in our lives, so forget whatever you had in mind. Understand?"
Susan nodded, wonderingly. Suddenly she clasped her friend to her.
"Carla, you're so wise-and wonderful!" Susan exulted.
Carla kissed her, lingeringly. It was different than the first kisses, but in a few seconds, their mouths began to warm, and Susan felt a warm glow of desire, a kind of sweet balm, steal through her.
As Carla began to caress her lightly, delicately, Susan was almost positive that Carla did know what had happened between John and her, or at least she suspected, but she was forgiving it, demonstrating her forgiveness in such a wonderful way.
"In a few days, I'll have a real surprise for you. honey," Carla whispered, her mouth trailing across Susan's bosom to a rigid nipple.
Susan sighed, relaxing. The one doubt in her mind had been removed. The fear that Carla might hate her-.
How wonderfully things had turned out! Bruce wouldn't care about this. He never would know it, for one thing. All the love and passion that had been denied her so many years seemed to blossom now. Her mind was free, her guilt absolved.
She had waited and waited for someone to appreciate her, to care for her. She had Bruce, and a fine, sweet girl friend, Carla.
She would have no more to do with John! Not ever.
In spite of what he and Carla had done lately, she knew they hadn't been getting along for some time. It was almost as though Carla actually had performed, had put herself out with John, so that she, Susan, could hear and see!
And it couldn't really be wrong to let Carla enjoy Susan's body, her company. She owed Carla so much!
"Oh, Carla!" she cried, as the blonde girl continued to flutter along her breasts so excitingly. "Carla, you're the best friend I ever had!"
"I know honey-I know," Carla whispered, kissing her passionately. "I wouldn't ever lead you in the wrong direction."
Susan took a deep breath, sighing. She arched her breasts upward for Carla's pleasure. And in spite of what they were doing, she knew she would have plenty of warm affection to shower on Bruce when he took her on a date Sunday evening.
"Do you like this, honey?" Carla murmured.
"Ohhhh-I guess!"
A brief silence followed, as little thrills raced along Susan's body....
"And this?" Carla asked.
"Ohhh-Carla-I really do!
Susan's breath drew in sharply, then she relaxed, enjoying the delight that Carla began to awaken. Carla was a most wonderful instructor ...!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bruce Leslie sat in his office and smiled to himself. Things had been happening very swiftly the past few days. The best, of course, had been the date in his apartment with Susan the night before.
What a sweet, eager doll!
And, armed with certain information he had picked up on Wednesday evening, when a certain young blonde housewife had come up to see him at the same apartment, he felt even better.
Kathy Hill, his blonde, trim secretary, didn't bother him at all, any more. He was positive that Susan would marry him-or that she would at least live with him as long as she wanted.
Thinking about the coming Sunday night when he would see Susan again, made him squirm in his chair.
Now, he was expecting a very important phone call. The young, eager blonde housewife who had visited him the previous Wednesday night had really filled his ear.
* * *
"Bruce-?" Carla asked into the telephone receiver.
"Yes, doll," came his instant response.
"Susan's asleep, the innocent little thing. I couldn't help myself, sweet-she was so willing, so naive. I'm sure it's going to work."
"Fine! I knew it would!" Bruce answered. "John know about it yet?"
"His attorney, or ours, is going to present him with the divorce papers tomorrow-I mean Monday. I'm so excited, Bruce! Then I'll come to live with you and Susan, and we'll all have a wonderful time!
"She has a great capacity for love, Bruce. And it's all the sweeter for her because she's waited so long! Everything is working out just the way we planned it, sweet."
His answering chuckle made Carla smile.
"John can have that fat Biscome dame," she continued. "And Liz McGill, too, if he can stand it! He was so pooped last night he could hardly stagger into the house-
"And please, Bruce, don't ever tell Susan I knew all about John and her. I think it's bothered her terribly, but I soothed her fears. I had to find out if she could really respond to a man before I even told you about her. But I promised I would land you a nice, young and beautiful girl-one we could share!"
Bruce laughed. "You're a clever girl, Carla. Won't I get to sleep with you once in a while, too?"
She giggled. "Before long we'll all be in the same bed, sweet-just you and Susan and me!
"Good-bye now, sweet! I'll protect our little dove, and keep her in good health and spirits. She has passed all the tests, and now awaits our pleasure!"
Bruce laughed. It's lucky we both have private lines, doll-what a conversation!"
"Just conversation?" I
"You know better than that, sweet!" As Carla put the receiver down, she could hear the last echo of Bruce's pleased chuckle ringing in her ears.
She hugged herself, remembering the first time she had danced with Bruce at the Elks Club. In the dark corners he held her close, and she had let her body respond, willingly. He had asked if he could call her, in spite of John, naturally, and that had started their friendship.
After a few telephone conversations, their relationship had grown into a very intimate flirtation.
She had known right away that Bruce would be very hard to capture, and when he had kiddingly expressed his desires, daring her to fulfill them, she had accepted the unusual challenge.
So she invited Susan up from California.
She had been fed up with John for a long time. He couldn't earn a decent living, never had been able to. All he knew was how to please certain women, and he couldn't surpass Bruce even in that department!
Bruce was a good provider, successful and wealthy. In Carla's own mind, he was a chief, a leader. He could afford to have two women around, and if the girls were good friends, what could be better?
It already had been arranged for Carla to live in a luxurious apartment next door to Bruce's. That would satisfy the narrow-minded long noses.
Yes, it would work out, just as she had planned it from the beginning!!
And she would never, never let Susan know that she had performed sexily with John, talking a lot and making noises, as a first test of Susan's reactions. And Carla hadn't found them wanting....