Chapter 1
Don was trying to do the right thing, but boredom and frustration were against him.
He thought with irritation of his wife, Brenda. She'd been so cold lately and refused even to talk about it, much less try any of the remedies he suggested. If she'd shown the slightest interest in anything from sex manuals to swap parties ... any of the things he wanted to try ... he wouldn't have been in this position.
And the position was a mighty tempting one.
He was alone in his own home with one of the prettiest and sexiest young women he'd ever seen, and all the signs were in his favor. Just the way she walked across the room told him she knew what it was all about. Her hips undulated in a most provocative fashion, each round globe of her ass rolling separately and straining against the tight, clinging knit of her short skirt. Her legs were demurely clad in white silk tights but they too seemed stretched almost to the breaking point. Even her knee-high boots of soft calfskin, dark green to match the skirt, looked sleek and glossy and good to the touch.
I sure as hell would like to get my hands on those swinging buttocks! he thought.
He drifted into a daydream in which he was holding them while he pulled her closer to him, and the palms of his hands tingled with the imagined feel. Unthinkingly he licked his lips, and his fingers curled up as if they were cupped around that firm, sweet flesh.
"Here's a photograph of the orphanage," Lita said. "It's supported solely by donations and ..."
His dream faded as she talked. She'd walked across the room to get more promotional material from her purse, and as she returned he had a devastating front view. It was every bit as luscious and tantalizing as the rear, if not more so.
This was a housewife, a married woman canvassing the neighborhood for a charity? he wondered. Good God, if she dressed this way to solicit money from other wives, how the hell would she looked dressed for an evening out with her husband?
She was a small girl, maybe five feet three. Don had always preferred big women like Brenda, but now he realized how unfair that prejudice had been. Her long, lustrous hair fell in a dark red curtain around her attractive little face. Don didn't especially admire the amount of make-up she wore, although it did add glamour. Lita's startlingly blue eyes were framed by spiky lashes that ... even if false ... did make her look alluring, as did the deep blue shadow above them and the glossy pink of her lips. Her mouth was full, the lower lip extending in a permanent but attractive pout, and her figure was so sensational he had to keep his eyes firmly fixed on her fsyge to restrain himself from grabbing her.
Because, difficult as it was, he knew he had to keep his hands to himself. If he'd met her somewhere else, in a bar for instance, he'd have known she was there for the same purpose as he ... namely, to get better acquainted with each other for a possible sexual adventure.
But ... she was collecting for charity. She was a neighbor, and somebody else's wife.
That knowledge made his regret for having missed the swap parties even more acute. If Brenda had only agreed, he might have met and coupled with a girl like Lita.
He tried to tell himself he was lucky simply to have met her, and that only because he had decided to work at home for a few days, so he could concentrate without continual distractions. Since he ran his own business, he could makes decisions like that. The end of the fiscal year inventory was nearing and he'd fallen behind in his control of the books. The auditor did it all, of course, but Don liked to go over everything himself and make sure it was okay.
Since Brenda had taken a part-time job, his own home was the quietest and most peaceful place he knew. His employees could always reach him by phone if need be.
He almost hadn't answered the doorbell that morning, assuming the caller was a brush salesman or something of the sort. But some impulse had led him to open the door. For this he was grateful, even though his heart was pounding and his knees felt weak.
"Any amount you can contribute would be much appreciated," Lita was saying.
With a jerk he returned to the moment. "I'll have to write you a check," he said. "My wife usually takes care of these things. I bet you were surprised to find a husband at home instead of a wife."
"Not really," she answered coolly. "I sometimes play bridge with Brenda, you know, so I knew she was working. But I saw your car in the drive and figured you were here. And since I have the card for this house ... " She held up the prospect card prepared by the charity.
What was it again? he mused. It really didn't matter.
"So you know Brenda?"
"Sure, I do. I live around the corner, on the next block. Brenda and I have talked about getting our husbands together some time, but I guess you've been too busy."
"Listen, I've just fixed a fresh pot of coffee, Lita. How about sitting down and getting better acquainted right now?"
"Well, all right. Just for a minute."
She sounded reluctant. On the other hand, she chose to sit on the sofa, so close her silky knee brushed against him.
She was surprisingly easy to talk to and the minutes fled quickly.
"You really should meet your new neighbors," Lita said, leaning toward him, her hair brushing his shoulder. She giggled. "All of us think you're terrific-looking ... all of us wives, I mean."
His chest swelled a little and he watched her as if hypnotized. Her tight-fitting white sweater rose and fell with every breath. Underneath it, the swelling breasts seemed to be struggling for freedom.
"Now that I know you, I like you very much," she added, laying her hand on his thigh.
That did it.
Hardly aware of what he was doing, Don leaned forward and pressed his mouth on those soft, glossy lips. They tasted like ripe strawberries. His arms encircled the firm, slender body and his weight carried her backward until she was half reclining on the sofa.
He knew he was making a fool of himself. She'd struggle and scream, and he'd have to let her go. And then in no time, all the new neighbors would know that he'd tried to rape Lita Graham. Eventually Brenda would hear about it. His marriage would be in jeopardy and so would his business, dependent as it was on good will.
But she didn't scream or struggle.
He couldn't believe the evidence of his senses because, even as he frightened himself with those thoughts, he felt the unmistakable pressure of a hand on his thigh. His arms filled with her luscious warmth, his mind numbed with disbelief, he felt the heat of her fingers burning through the cloth of his trousers. Stroking. Caressing. Kneading the flesh and coming perilously close to his crotch and the sudden bulge of his penis lying along the inside of his thigh. Unless he had lost his mind completely and was having an insanely exciting daydream, Lita was not only letting him but encouraging him to continue his ill-considered pass at her.
He looked down and saw the long, slender fingers with their coral-tinted nails. He also saw the embarrassing swelling as his body responded to the erotic situation.
The blood pounded in his head, clouding his vision and darkening his face. He felt a wild, irresistible urge to reach and hold those fingers, to plant them firmly on his lustfully swelling cock.
At the same time, he was almost paralyzed by the near-certainty that she couldn't mean what he hoped she meant. Sheer surprise made him pull his head back and look at her, then down at her hand, still rolling the loose flesh of his thigh.
"Don't look so surprised," Lita giggled.
So many thoughts flashed through his mind that he couldn't sort them out. If he could only say something really suave at this moment, something smooth and sophisticated!
"Urn," he said, "uh, well, I am surprised. Happily so, I have to say. I never expected such a, um, happy surprise."
He knew he sounded like an idiot. He turned his head painfully and looked at her, seeing the sensuous mouth smile while the small white teeth caught at the edge of her full, pouting lip.
"You must think I'm terrible," she said, still giggling. "A real whore."
"Oh no, not at all." Nymphomaniac was more like it. But who the hell cared?
He grabbed her again, shoving forward until her back lay on the sofa cushions and her hips were twisted, still dangling toward the floor. He leaned over her, drowning in the blue depths of her eyes. His hands felt their way blindly across her satiny cheeks, and his mouth met hers as if they were magnetized.
Her lips parted under his kiss, just enough to encourage him. His tongue shot out and explored her warm mouth. Don felt a choking sensation as if he couldn't swallow or breathe properly. He felt like a sailor with his first girl after six months at sea. His cock throbbed inside his trousers and he was afraid he couldn't hold it back ... that he'd come in his pants like a kid.
Her pointed breasts poked into his chest, through the layers of cloth that separated them. His hand slid down to caress the outside curve of one of those full, enticing beauties. Cupping his hand around it, even from the side, even through the cloth barriers, sent a thrill through each fingertip and into his erratically pounding heart.
Encouraged by her lack of resistance, his hand ventured further, inching down to the full curve of her hip. A scent like lilacs filled his nostrils. He knew it wouldn't be more than another two minutes before his body went out of control and he began ripping her clothes off and raping her ... unless she was willing to go along with his desire.
"Hey, wait!" She finally began to struggle under him, as if she sensed his loosening of control. "Let me up, Don, please. Please!"
It took all of his will power but he slowly pulled back and let her sit up. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face, trying to convince himself that he'd been lucky, that it was a narrow escape.
"Damn you!" he said hoarsely. "What kind of game are you playing, anyway?"
Lita looked a little unsteady too, as she combed her fingers through her hair and adjusted her white sweater. "Hey," she said, "I didn't think a little friendly kiss would get out of control so fast."
"If you play with fire ..." he answered grimly.
"Yes, well, I wouldn't mind getting burned later on. Honest, Don, I didn't mean to get you upset."
Upset, she called it! Despite the painful ache in his groin, he reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "You'd better get out of here fast, young lady, unless you really want to get raped!"
"Listen, Don, I was just ... I have to think this through. I don't understand what happened. Unless you're some sort of sex maniac ..."
"Me? What about you?"
"I'd say we should finish what we started, if you'd just let me explain ... "
"Explain later," he said grimly. "Write me a letter, or else be prepared to take what comes."
He could almost see the wheels going around in her head, although he had no idea what she was thinking. She was some kind of kook, he was sure, but he'd had all he could take from women and he was ready to dish it out.
"Okay, okay," she said. "Just one thing first. Promise you and Brenda will come to a party at my house Saturday night. Then I won't. . . well, I won't feel bad about what we're doing now."
She was getting kookier and kookier, but he didn't care. "That's a date!"
He undressed quickly, not caring a thing about finesse. He did remember to shoot a glance at the living room draperies. It was all right; they were closed.
He moved toward her, naked and hard-cocked. She'd already pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it on the coffee table. He lunged toward her, pulling the straps at her bra off her shoulders. When she protested, he let her unhook it and then he gasped as her creamy, rose-tipped breasts spilled out. Jesus, what a body she had! he thought. High, pointy breasts topped a taut sheath of flesh over her ribs which tapered to a tiny waist. He wanted to devour those breasts with kisses and pull the rest of her clothes off at the same time. His hands reached out to cup and stroke the luscious tits. - He watched while she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. She was wearing only the thin white tights and her green leather boots. He reached out and grasped her hungrily, his hands sliding across her smooth flesh, pulling her close. With trembling but insistent hands, he rolled the tights down and revealed the slight bulge of her belly, which sloped down to a bush of carefully trimmed dark hair. Somehow the effect of the boots and loosely rolled tights was more erotic than if she had been naked.
He wanted to take his time and play with her; to enjoy all the pleasures of her warm, wonderful body. But regretfully he knew he didn't have the time; he simply couldn't wait. His dick had become one big throbbing pain and nothing would ease it except shoving it into the slit between those shapely legs.
His mouth fastened on hers. He remembered suddenly how cold and unresponsive Brenda had been lately, and a surge of angry masculine vanity made him encircle her slender body with his arms and pull her crushingly close against his chest while his tongue forced its way between her pouting lips. Damn all women, anyway! he raged silently. She had also tried to play with him, to toy with his aroused sexuality. He'd show her! Roughly he ran his strong hands up and down her back, feeling the give of her waist while her high, round breasts flattened against him. He was hurting her and he knew it, and he gloried in it! He rubbed his stubby chin over the smooth, delicate skin of her face and pushed his tongue in farther, making her gasp for breath.
His hostility was mixed with lust for her exciting, tantalizing body. He felt as if he were taking revenge on Brenda ... and in a way, he was ... for her remoteness and her calm, maddening superiority. He loved his wife but her attitude lately had given her an unfair advantage over him; he had to beg and plead for what should have been his by right.
But there was no use thinking about Brenda. The mystery would be solved one day, and meanwhile he had more than adequate means for revenge as well as satisfaction for his deep physical need.
He'd better think of this one, this kooky Lita instead, he decided. He wondered briefly if she was in the same position as he was, although he found that hard to believe. What man could have resisted the temptations of this vibrant body? Yet her desire seemed as strong as his. If that was the case, they could find relief in each other's arms. If she needed it, she was sure as hell going to get it! I'll give her a fuck like she's never had before, he thought happily, pushing her down on the sofa.
His hands slid under her to cup those round buns, just as he'd dreamed of doing. He groaned at the fantastic thrill he felt just holding her this way.
In spite of his big ideas he knew he couldn't take the time to make love to her slowly and get her ready properly. But he slipped a hand around and ran it over the hair-lined slit of her cunt. Moisture had gathered there already and he was grateful that he didn't need to worry about her readiness. Her eyes were glazed with passion and her pouting mouth whimpered softly. She moved under him with constant little wrigglings that told him her body wast as hot as his. His finger trailed along the narrow opening, picking up lubricating fluid along the way. She was the kind of woman most men dreamed about ... her beauty and her readiness ... and he still couldn't quite believe it.
"Ummmm, don't wait," she whispered softly. "Put it in me, you darling. Let's go!"
With an invitation like that, his excitement increased. He parted her labia, not neglecting to stroke her erect clitoris in spite of his haste. She shuddered and bit her lip and he smiled, knowing she was as lascivious and avid as he was. Lifting her buttocks in the air, he slid his huge, hard rod slowly into her wet, pulsating vagina. Her pelvis tilted up to meet him, bucking and shoving greedily to take it all. He sank into her with silky smoothness, feeling the warmth of her sheath enclose him and hearing the wet smacking noise as their bodies merged. She got it all, up to the hilt!
He hesitated a moment, looking down at her lovely, ecstatic face. God, what a thrill it was to have some novelty, some strange pussy. And she wanted him! He exulted in the tribute to his ¦asculinity.
"Do it. Fuck me!" she said fiercely. "Screwme good and hard!"
"You bitch!" The words were torn from his throat. He wanted her and despised her all at the same moment, but desire had to win. He raised his buttocks and smashed down hard, hearing the smack of his balls on her upturned ass. Roughly he took hold of her leather-clad legs and thrust them farther apart.
Then frenzy gripped him and he plunged into her again and again, as fiercely as his strong muscles could manage. It wasn't Brenda, it wasn't his wife, he realized. Yet he was revenging himself on Brenda and on the arrogance of women in general. His wild delight came partly from that and partly from his great sexual need.
"Take that, you bitch!"
Her body writhed and he rode her harder, faster, his straining hips bucking up and down, his swollen cock riding in and out of the smooth slickness of her pussy. Her cunt lips seemed to grasp it as if to hold it there forever.
His blood pounded in his ears so he could hardly hear his own sighing voice, much less hers. But something she repeated in a gasping breath slowly penetrated. He slowed his stroke and tried to listen. It was something about Brenda, he was sure of that. He heard his wife's name over and over as Lita tossed her head from side to side and mouthed little whimpering cries.
"That liar .. . Brenda . .. goddamn liar ..." Those were the words she forced out in her frenzy of erotic desperation.