Chapter 2
"How about a weekend in New York, Janet?" Harry Williams asked, a broad smile creasing his handsome young face.
"Sorry, Harry," Janet replied gayly, "but I'm going to spend the weekend with my husband, just like all my other weekends." "No harm in asking," Harry commented with the smile still etched on his lips. "You re a beautiful chick, and sometimes an old man can't keep up with youth."
Inside, Janet bristled at the reference to Fred's age, but she managed to keep the smile on her face.
"There's a lot to say for an older man. He has something you haven't got, for instance," Janet said.
"Name it, chick," Harry responded.
"Experience and tact!"
"Ouch!"
"You asked for it," Janet laughed. "Now go and impress some frustrated teenage girl, Harry, and leave a married woman alone with her happiness." Harry walked away with a good-natured laugh as Janet began closing her desk for the weekend. She was glad the Carter Mills contract was completed. She had worked overtime every night for almost two weeks and it was good to have a weekend before her with no pressure at work. She straightened the top of her desk and picked up her purse to head for the rest room. Janet always made up her face and fixed her hair before she went home. She made it a practice to always look her best for Fred. Janet pretended that Harry annoyed her, but secretly she enjoyed his persistent flirtation. It reassured her as a woman. She knew that she was attractive, and she confirmed this as she stood before the mirror in the rest room. She was tall and slender, with well-rounded hips and heavy, firm breasts that rode high on her chest. Her waist was still narrow, even though she had to occasionally diet to keep it at the twenty-two inches she had maintained since high school, and her legs were long and sculptured.
She had always been popular with men, but Janet was basically a shy person. Her first real self-confidence had come shortly after she married Fred. Janet brushed her hair vigorously, knowing that Fred loved the soft, silky texture of her golden hair that hung halfway down her back. Why all the effort? she wondered. For the past few months Fred had been so depressed he hardly noticed her. Lately she had begun wondering if it was Fred's age, or the difference in their ages, that was bothering him. After all, there were almost fifteen years between them. But they had been through that before they were married, and Fred did not act his age. He thought young, could get on well with any under-thirty group, and took care of his body so that he always appeared much younger. Most people thought he was in his very early thirties. It was only recently that he had been acting his age, and Janet knew that was because he was so depressed about being out of work. He had been one of the chief program engineers for a small computer company, drawing twenty-five thousand a year.
The future couldn't have looked brighter a year ago. Fred's company had entered a number of government contracts and it looked like they would have to expand their operations. Fred was up for a vice-presidency. There had been some mild rumors about cutting appropriations on study contracts, but the blow fell almost without warning and Fred's company had gone into bankruptcy overnight. With thousands of engineers already on the market, jobs were difficult to find.
It wasn't that Fred hadn't tried. He'd made applications to dozens of companies and went through interview after interview. Several times they had discussed moving out of Boston, but Fred was against this. Janet didn't care. She was from Dayton, Ohio, and had met Fred when she had moved to Boston to train as an assistant in systems analysis for a group of consulting engineers in the textile industry. She enjoyed her work, but she didn't feel any real roots in Boston. It was her marriage that counted, and Janet felt that it was falling apart right under her eyes. Their sex life had fallen off, and Fred was so moody she didn't seem to be able to communicate with him. A taxi pulled up in front of the building just as Janet was leaving and she grabbed it. She didn't feel like riding the bus tonight. The traffic was so fierce it took almost an hour to reach the apartment. Janet let herself into the apartment with her key and was surprised that Fred wasn't there. She quickly changed into one of her housecoats and began preparing dinner. She knew Fred liked to go out to dinner on Friday nights, but she also knew they couldn't afford it right now. Fred's savings were dwindling rapidly and they were beginning to feel the pinch. If only he could find a job! she thought.
Anything, just to see them through until he located what he really wanted. She sighed as she tried to gather enthusiasm for preparing dinner. Cooking was not Janet's strong suit, and she actually hated working in a kitchen. If Fred could computerize a kitchen, she thought, the way he had been developing the computerized bartender. That was another thing. Fred's enthusiasm for his concept of the computer for a bartender was limitless. He worked on it every minute he wasn't interviewing for a job. Janet was finally convinced it would work. Fred had proven that to her beyond any doubt, but she could not bring herself to share his enthusiasm for the potential market. It was so expensive, thirty thousand dollars or more, and in her mind it wasn't much more than a novelty. She wished he would concentrate his time on something more practical, but Janet knew that it was the wife's place to encourage her husband's work. Hut if something didn't happen pretty soon they would have to give up the apartment.
That didn't worry Janet as much as what was happening to Fred and their marriage. Particularly their sex life. At the beginning, Fred had been so fantastic in bed. She had never believed that sex could be that good, that all-consuming and exciting. But lately the spark seemed to be gone. Half the time, Janet felt that Fred was just going through the motions to please her.
She sighed, took a deep breath, and reminded herself that every couple went through problems like this. Leaving the oven on low, Janet went back to the bedroom and changed into the sheerest, briefest nightgown she had. She was sexually frustrated and she was determined to seduce Fred this evening. It was during sex that they communicated best, and Janet felt a desperate need to communicate with her husband. She knew they couldn't go on like this much longer.
Briefly, Janet wondered if the problem might have something to do with her inability to give Fred children. After an operation at the age of nineteen, the doctors had announced that Janet would be unable to conceive. She had talked this out at length with Fred before they married, and he assured her he did not want children. Janet believed him. Fred didn't have the temperament to deal with children, and he' had never evidenced any desire for a family. Still, it was a failing on Janet's part and she was constantly aware of it. Secretly, she wanted a family of her own, but she had adjusted to the fact that this was impossible. Of course they could always adopt children, and she had talked about this to Fred on several occasions. Fred was only lukewarm to the idea and she had dropped it. "Is that you?" she called from the kitchen when she heard the front door close.
"Yep," Fred replied. "Fixing dinner here?" he remarked as he walked into the kitchen.
"I thought it would be nice to eat here instead of going out," she said, walking up to him and rubbing her tits against him as she kissed him on the lips.
"And more practical in our financial condition," Fred replied, turning to the cabinet above the sink and taking down a half-full bottle of Scotch. "I need a drink. Want one?"
"Sure," Janet responded as brightly as she could. She had never cared for liquor, and she hated to see Fred start drinking. They hardly ever had a cocktail when they were first married, but lately Fred had two or three drinks every night. And Janet suspected he had a few drinks in the afternoon before she came home.
"How was it at the office?" he asked, handing her a tall glass half filled with Scotch.
"We finished the big contract," Janet replied, moving to the stove to stir the frozen vegetables. "I'm as free as a bird. No pressure. And Mr. Brasch said I could have two or three days off any time I want it." "Too bad we can't afford to take off and go somewhere," Fred commented, draining his glass and reaching for the bottle. "A trip would be fun, wouldn't it?" Janet said. "But I don't mind, darling. I'll save up the time and we'll have it when we need it." Janet watched as Fred nodded and poured himself another drink. He was still as handsome as he was the day they were married. There wasn't an inch of fat on his body and his chest and shoulders were muscular. She liked the way he wore his hair long and full without being too much. Fred always reminded her of a man out of the ads in Playboy magazine. He wore a full mustache. Janet blushed when she remembered how it tickled when he ate her cunt. She could feel a tingle in her pussy and she remembered how frustrated she was. Horny, Fred called it, but she liked the term frustrated better. Getting a little high wouldn't hurt, she decided. Maybe it would put them in a good mood for sex. "I'd like another drink," Janet said, finishing her Scotch and handing her glass to him. "What did you do today?"
"Not much," he replied, turning to pour her Scotch and to avoid her eyes as he thought about the nineteen-year-old Puerto Rican girl. He didn't feel exactly guilty. Fred wasn't sure how he felt. Disgusted, perhaps. Having an affair didn't bother him, although he didn't know how Janet would react. But this wasn't an affair. It was taking advantage of a helpless young girl. A sordid thing at best. "Did you follow up on Johnson Chemical?" Janet asked, beginning to fill their plates from the stove.
"Honey, let's just forget my employment problem for the weekend, okay?" Fred said. "I saw Johnson and I'm not what they need. Something will turn up any day now. Maybe I'll luck out and find someone to back my bar project. You never know. The secret is to just keep trying. Hmmm, smells good."
"Prepared with loving care," she smiled, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead as she placed his plate before him at the table. She deliberately let her tit rest on his shoulder for a moment. "How about wine to celebrate our weekend away from all pressure and problems? We've still got that bottle of Lancers in the refrigerator." "I thought we were saving that for a special occasion." "Isn't this a special occasion? I mean, we're free to concentrate on ourselves and do what we want."
"Okay," he laughed, "we'll celebrate."
"And after dinner we'll make mad, passionate love," she laughed, reaching over and placing her hand on his crotch, trailing her fingers along his limp cock.
"First, the wine," he said, getting up and going to the kitchen. Janet watched him go, a crease forming on her forehead. Had her touch turned him off? She could feel the Scotch in her veins and the light-hearted feeling flowing through her system warmed her. She hoped he felt the same way.