Chapter 1
It was nine o'clock in the evening. Early for a pretty, energetic twenty-two-year-old to be going to bed. But what else was there to do?
Sighing deeply, Doris Meyers stood in front of the big mirror her new landlord had just yesterday affixed to the wall opposite the bed she shared with her shoe salesman husband, Harry. She began to slip her sleeveless sweater up over her head. As she cast it carelessly onto a chair in the corner, her self-pity was momentarily forgotten. She admired the lush, rounded swells of her breasts that she freed from her brassiere with one deft flick of the wrist. Good-looking tits, she observed with satisfaction.
Doris had learned to be critical and appreciative of her good looks early in life. She had been raised on the wrong side of the tracks, where an attractive woman was considered a valuable commodity. Doris had guarded her maidenhood jealously, waiting for the man who could rescue her from the misery of brawling neighbors and leaky faucets and cockroaches in the kitchen.
Harry Meyers had rescued her all right. And put her right into another kind of prison. When Doris had married Harry at eighteen, she had known plenty about the facts of life.
But almost nothing about the responses of her own body. Harry had taken her virginity on their wedding night, and had awakened a sleeping tiger in Doris. Ever since then, she had never been able to get enough sex. Or enough of anything else.
Her husband was , twenty-four years older than Doris. And his shoe-salesman salary no longer seemed like the windfall it had when she first married him.
Doris had acquired a burning taste for luxuries. Luxuries her husband could ill afford.
The redhead slipped her tight-fitting skirt down over her hips. She let it fall in a pool around her feet while she fondled her swelling breasts and her smooth flat belly. Doris liked to read Harry's girlie magazines on the sly, when he was off at work. She found that her own body compared favorably with any of the sultry-looking sexpots in the pictures. With the practicality of a girl who had grown up with misery, Doris realized her looks would not last forever.
She was beginning to feel desperate about the passage of time. She wanted to make something of her youth and beauty while she had them. It was time she quit hiding her light under the bushel of her husband's heavy, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am body.
Doris Meyers wanted to live a little!
Carefully, tantalizingly, she slipped her tight-fitting white lace panties down over her firm, swelling ass-cheeks. She turned her back to the mirror and bent forward slightly. By craning her neck and back over her shoulder, she could admire the lush half-moons, as round and inviting as any man could ask.
Her lewd posturing was beginning to inspire flashing tingles down in Doris's tight little pussy. She was reminded of the purpose of her early-to-bed. Harry quit work at nine-thirty tonight. He would be home soon^ Doris wanted to get it off before his arrival.
Then she would not have to feel so anxious when Harry failed to respond to her aching cunt-hunger. Oh sure, he would probably fuck her. But he might also set another record for the quickest quickie in the west. What Doris wanted was long, slow, sensuous lovemaking. She knew it was possible. She had read about it in the confession magazine she liked to read on the afternoons when there was nothing good on television.
She knew what she needed. She needed a lover! But as yet, she had not had the nerve to do anything about it!
The pretty young redhead was feeling raunchy. She had not had an orgasm in two days, and that was at least forty-six hours too long a wait for Doris. At last she was alone. At last she could give her lusty body the satisfaction it craved.
She sat. naked on the bed, watching her reflection in the mirror. Spreading her legs obscenely wide, she admired the plentiful red hair of her bush and the narrow fleshy pink slit of her cunt. It was as tight and resilient-looking as a virgin's pussy. Again she compared- herself favorably to the girlie pictures. "It's a good-looking pussy!" She spoke lewdly into the1 mirror. Then she looked disparagingly around the neat, plaster-board bedroom. "Too damned good to be stuck inx a joint like this!"
The man watching on the other side of the one-way glass did not take kindly to hearing his brand new duplex referred to as a joint. He himself had just moved in three months ago, right after the builders left. Harry and Doris Meyers were his first tenants. He figured he was giving them a good deal on the rent. Doris had nothing to complain about.
As he watched her slender fingers probe daintily into the inviting pink slit of her snatch, Walter Briggs decided to forgive the young beauty her indescretion. How could he find fault with a little honey like this one?! So young, so pretty, so conceited! He had known from the first minute he laid eyes on her that Doris Meyers was a sexy, dissatisfied woman. That was why he had rented the other side of the duplex to them. He had planned all along to put up this mirror and cut the holes in his closet wall.
Being a voyeur to the young wife's sex life was just what Walter had been looking forward to. This was the first show Doris had put on for him. He felt a snug little glow of satisfaction at the thought that he could sneak into his closet and watch the redhead any time he wanted. This was all the simple pleasure Walter asked from life.
At fifty, he was retired with a comfortable pension. He admired women, but for what they had hidden between their legs, not for what they had in their heads. He had celebrated for three straight days when his nag of a wife left him. He had vowed never to get involved with another female as long as he lived.
He would be content just to sit back and watch...
With bated breath, he watched Doris's fingertip circle round and round the slick tip of her clitoris. He watched her eyes grow hazy with lust. Her tongue protruded just a little between her lips as her entire consciousness became absorbed in the pleasure-tingles darting from her hardening clitoris up through her whole eager body. "Uuuuuuuhhh!" Her urgent moan penetrated the mirror and inspired the voyeur's cock to begin to throb in his pants.
God, she's a sexy little bitch! Walter thought lasciviously. She's sure as hell hot for it! That husband of hers must have a hell of a time keeping up with young meat like that! It never occurred to Walter that he was actually six years older than Doris's husband. In Walter's dream-world, he could handle any woman that came by. He hadn't tested his virility for a year now. But in his dreams, he had them all, any way he wanted them.
His hand stroked absently over the bulge in his pants. His cock was palpitating pleasurably, incited by the wanton image on the other side of the glass. He felt no need to do anything about the feelings coursing through his loins. He enjoyed the agony of desire as much as he enjoyed Doris Meyers' display.
Feeling secure in the knowledge that she was alone and free to bring herself pleasure in whatever way she wanted, Doris shoved two fingers deep into her wet cunt. She began to saw them back and forth. They worked with a moist sluicing sound. Her juices were flowing freely. Sensitive as she was, she knew it would not take much before her whole body trembled in uncontrolled paroxysms of orgasm.
Relishing the lewd abandon of performing shamelessly in front of the mirror, she smiled at herself. The smile quickly evaporated into formless lust. Her pussy was so wet, so hungry. She could feel the pressure building. Her clitoris throbbed greedily each time the flat of her hand rubbed over it. Her cunt-walls clutched her fingers in reflex need.
"Oh God!" she wailed into the still room. "I need it so bad! I need to cum so bad! Uuuuuuhhhhh ... good-d-d!"
From his hiding place in his dark closet, Walter watched the girl's fingers fly in and out of her wet receptive pussy. The look on her face was pure wanton hunger. She was obviously working with single-minded purpose, struggling to take herself over the top... to break into the tumultuous world of orgasmic release! The pace of her fingers never faltered. Her cunt-mound ground recklessly up to meet her fingers. Her ass rose slightly from the bed on each upward thrust.
"God, what a woman!" Walter whispered his admiration as he watched the redhead ride her fingers furiously in pursuit of her solitary pleasure. Doris Meyers was even more of a find than he had anticipated. She was the hottest woman he had ever seen in his life. Hotter than those girls he liked to watch in the movies downtown. He imagined what the clasp of her seething pussy-walls must be like. His cock throbbed agonizingly at the thought. He smiled, gritted his teeth and watched on. He knew it would not be long now.
Doris's lovely face was staring beseechingly into the mirror. But it was obvious she saw nothing.
Not even her own reflection. She was looking for something that was somewhere deep inside her. Something she wanted more than anything in the world at this moment. Seemingly without warning, it was upon her. "Uuuuuuuuhhhhh! .. . Oooohhh God-d-d! I'm cummmmmm-ing-g-g!"
Her face seemed to shatter before she. bent forward and lay her head on her lap. Her hand continued to grip her cunt, her shoulders rose and fell with spasmodic effort. For the moment, she was overwhelmed by the intensity of her release.
It surprised Walter when she suddenly sprang to her feet and scrambled beneath the covers.
"I'm in here, honey!" she called. Her fingers fumbled for a magazine on her bedside table. She opened it at random and started to read.
A moment later, Harry Meyers walked into the room. He looked weary. His hair was disheveled and he walked like a man with corns on both feet. He flung his suitjacket into a chair and started to undress.
Walter watched the funny little looks Doris cast at her husband over the top of her magazine. Harry paid no attention to her as she eyed him mischievously. It amused Walter to think that he shared a secret with the pretty redhead that even her husband knew nothing about.