Chapter 4
Mildred started it.
She called on Gary Worthington at his office and said that his wife had shown her his picture. She wanted to go to bed with him.
"Well, gee," Gary said, flushing slightly and grinning with embarrassment and delight. "You sure are mighty pretty. This going to cost me anything?"
"Maybe your virginity," Mildred replied, "and the loan of your wife for either my husband or another man in the exchange circuit."
"Look," Gary said, unsure of himself, "I'm not very sophisticated about these things. What do you folks do? Do you have orgies on some sumptuous estate and everyone get blindfolded and take a partner? Or do you toss the car keys in a thing and the women drive off with whoever's keys they get?"
"Oh we get everyone drunk and high on dope and we charge you men up with strong aphrodisiacs and the women are all passionate and beautiful and we rape you in bunches," Mildred said, smiling.
"That sounds so good I wish it were true," Gary said. "But why don't you just invite me? I don't think that a sweet, innocent kid like Emily would go along with anything like this."
Mildred sat up straight thrusting her breasts out at Gary invitingly. She shifted the lovely scarf around her neck to one side. The fragrance of Seduction and Enslavement was wafted to his nostrils. She hiked up the hem of her short skirt slightly showing exciting, darkhosed legs.
"It'll be up to you to sell her on it," Mildred said. "That's your price of admission. Otherwise, forget it, and I mean it."
She pressed against him, stroked his face with her hands, looked deeply into his eyes and drowned him in the pool of hers. Then she walked out and her pratt in its tight skirt wriggled invitingly.
"I'll do it," Gary called after her, "somehow."
"Emily," Gary said that evening, after taking his wife out to an exceptionally fine restaurant and trying to draw her into the conversation more than usual. "I've been thinking how selfish I've been-in bed, I mean. Sex and like that.
"I've not mastered anything new and exciting that will pleasure you, because a man instinctively tries to remain faithful when he has a swell wife like you. And I've not let you have any basis for comparing a man's, I mean my, whatchamacallit with someone else's. You know lots of men aren't as big as me there and some women think it's interesting to be tickled to death that way, you know."
"No, I don't, Gary," Emily said. "Are you trying to tell me you want a divorce or something?"
"Good heavens no, darling," Gary said, his voice rising. "Don't be frightened. I'd not want to do anything like that to you, dear. I just thought it might be sort of fun to let you borrow someone else's husband so that you could have more variety, maybe learn some new experience, things you could show me."
Emily's eyes were grave and wide. "Do you intend to sell my body to strangers, Gary? Are you becoming a white slaver? I didn't know you were a pimp, dear."
"Hell, this isn't commercial," Gary shouted. "I only thought you might want to have a little fun with someone else beside me. I must be pretty dull sometimes, going off so fast and all."
"Did you meet some particularly attractive man you want to give me as a sort of present?" Emily asked, enjoying Gary's frustration behind her mask of serious inquiry.
"Well, not exactly," Gary said, perspiration making his shirt collar stick to his neck. "I met a fellow's wife."
"Oh, so now you want to make me into a lesbian, eh?" Emily reprimanded him. "I should think that, at the very least, so long as you want me to go to bed with another man, you'd get acquainted with that man to make certain that he's reasonably attractive and young and clean.
"Was his wife pretty?"
"Not as pretty as you are," Gary replied.
"Will you lie on your side alongside her on her side and do the same things with her that you do with me as fast and all?" Emily persisted.
"Look, Emily," Gary blurted out, "if you don't want to, you don't have to. I just sort of thought it might add a little welcome spice to your life."
"If either of us catches social diseases, shall we agree to get them fixed up before we pass them along to the other?" Emily asked.
"Alright," Gary shrieked. "I'll get a pencillin shot and get you one after we screw the Grecos."
"What's a Greco like?" Emily asked.
"Let's find out by inviting them over," Gary said. "If you don't like him, the deal is off. If you like him, it's on. Could anything be fairer than that? I'm not even considering my own feelings in this."
"At least you've seen and evidently talked to Mrs. Greco," Emily said. "Now, under these circumstances is it my or your prerogative to invite them for a weekend?"
"It'd be best if you did," Gary said, astonished at his success with this sale. So Emily did.
It was strange at first, these total strangers, sitting in their living room while Gary, the gracious host, served drinks from prepared mixes and Emily fluttered about in a hostess coat offering the Grecos hors d'oeuvres.
They hadn't heard Gary's stock of jokes before and Emily joined their indulgent laughter with nervous little laughs of her own.
She looked at Charlie Greco now, this close, this manly, with some apprehension. With a wife as beautiful, knowledgable and sophisticated as Mildred, what would he want her for? She could even understand Mildred being attracted to Gary, because he was big, bass and handsome, and Gary's finding Mildred an exciting prospect for bed.
"Come on, Emily," Charlie Greco said, "let's go for a nice, long walk and get better acquainted."
Mildred went into the bedroom with Emily while she changed. She sprayed Emily with Seduction and Enslavement, helped her select a beautiful, full-sleeved white silk blouse and a pretty scarf to wear with it, long earrings, dark hose and high heels, and she shortened the skirt fully four inches before Emily went downstairs to meet Charlie.
Gary looked at his wife and asked, 'How come you don't get yourself up like that for me?"
"Ah-ah, no jealousy or we'll just pack up and leave," Mildred warned him. "If you can't take it, leave it alone."
Gary looked at her, beautiful, sure and appealing, and he found solace in the sight. Then, hardly had Charlie gone out the door with Emily, before Gary saw Mildred coming toward him, slowly, panther-like, and he grinned happily.
"I just decided to take it," he said.
Sunsets do wonderful things to the world. They hang gorgeous abstractions on the walls of the world, the sky, artful works that blend into darkness above, that cast shades even prettier than candlelight on a woman's skin, that make men seem taller and more virile and women more desirable.
Sunsets cast the longest shadows in the most mysterious darkness imagniable. There's a touch of mystery and beauty as you walk through countryside touched with the magic of sunset, and Emily felt it even as she felt Charlie Greco's strong hand at first on her arm, then around her waist, then bringing her to him for a kiss that began as the last rays of light were fading and that ended when total darkness encircled them.
"You're quite a man, Charlie Greco," Emily said, her hands resting lightly on his chest. "You're very exciting."
"Let's head back," he said huskily.
Somehow, as they walked back toward the home she shared with Gary, Emily had the feeling that Charlie was getting more and more like the elder Mr. Holt, her father.
And yet that was what stopped her.
He sensed the withdrawal, contrasted it with the willing surrender he knew through her kiss. He actually was able to trace its cause. "I'm probably the first older man you've ever really considered going to bed with, am I not?" he asked.
In miserable silence, Emily nodded her head affirmatively.
"Something about your father, huh?" he coaxed.
Emily's frozen-faced silence was her assent.
"Then I'd not expect this to be a voluntary decision on your part, darling," Charlie told her. "Here, I'll make it easier for you."
They were in the guest room, the door locked, and he turned to her. Quickly he whipped off her scarf and then he threw her onto the bed, bringing her wrists in back and binding them together with the scarf.
Up-ending her, he slid her panties off of her, wadded them into a tight little ball which he jammed into her mouth and tied in place with his big, clean handkerchief.
Now he slipped her shoes off and swiftly took off Emily's stockings. He unfastened her garter belt, then used the stockings to tie her left leg to the loop in the foot of the mattress and her right leg to one in the side near the foot.
With quick, expert precision, he undid her skirt unbuttoning it and unzipping it. He unbuttoned her blouse at the front and the cuffs. Then he freed her hands, buttoning it and unzipping it. He unbuttoned her blouse at the front and the cuffs. Then he freed her hands, holding her tightly while he pulled the skirt off up over her head and took the blouse off of her. Next came the slip and brassiere.
Now the scarf was used again to tie her wrists together through ojienings in the headboard. Emily was absolutely helpless.
As swiftly and authoritatively as he'd undressed her, he shucked off his own clothing and then lay beside her, drinking in the sight of her beautiful, shapely young body.
"This is a thrill, just looking at you, Emily dear," Charlie Greco said. "To think that you can do absolutely nothing to protect yourself while I do with you whatever I wish! That's wonderful, darling. And, because you're helpless, you can accept no blame whatsoever. You must simply relax and enjoy whatever I decide to do with or to you."
Emily found her heart beating wildly and tenderness in her eyes toward this real man who knew exactly how to handle her. "I will probably have to spank you before I get through with you, Emily," Charlie Greco said His hand was in her nest and he felt the warm, sticky fluids emerging, showing him when he hit themes to which she was responsive.
"In fact, I know that I'm going to spank you, darling, because it delights me to see my handprints in that pretty pale pink bottom of yours," Charlie Greco said. Gagged and helpless, Emily could only feel her heart beating wildly in anticipation of this brutal treatment by this artist at understanding her.
His hands cupped her breasts delightedly, one at a time, and his mouth caught the nipples and worried them, formed a vacuum of delight that made them harden and jut beyond anything Gary had ever been able to accomplish.
Emily was tossing and squirming under this cruel, delicious punishment. Her one leg was freed, permitting her to be turned onto the bed face down, and then she felt Charlie's heavy hand pounding on her bottom, just as her father had once spanked her, making her squirm and suffer and thrill and want all at the same time!
Still holding her face down, Charlie's tongue began at the side of her threat in a vacuum, worked around to the back of her neck, formed a zigzag course down her back, crossing and re-crossing her spine, and then his big, strong mouth did exciting things on the insides of her hips, on the base of her spine, behind her knees.
When she turned again onto her back, he removed the gag. She was gasping and grimacing with want and pleasure.
Expertly, artfully, Charlie Greco stroked the front of this sensitive, responsive beauty. His fingers found her nipples once again, firmed them up by rolling them between his index fingers and the balls of his thumbs.
She was lying back, her lips parted slightly, moistly. Her eyes were feline and beautiful and Charlie Greco began to stroke her belly lightly, softly, gently with his hands. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, and then his hands moved downward, parting her nether lips with sure, knowing fingers, letting his other fingers enter the doorway, lightly, slowly, gently, surely.
High he worked. Well above the mouth of the vessel and yet where the nerves were most sensitive, where the hard core of delight was like a B-B of pleasure, a tiny version of a miniature penis, backed by one finger stroked on the underside by another, sending glorious ripples of emotional response through this helpless, hungering woman. just possessed, sought to stroke the captive's clitoris and thrill it to fulfillment. Her body shuddered with response to his warm, sweet tongue and he felt the gushing white salt-tart fluid coming from her, proclaiming her joy in his mal-treatment of her.
This was no giant tool like Gary's. It was an ordinary length, perhaps a little thicker than most, but he knew how to use it, how to hold its head just within the most responsive area of her person, how to move it slightly, lightly, to bring them both maximum pleasure, how to change the angle of his body in relationship to hers so that he was thrusting upward, downward, stroking the underside of his tool against her, the clitoris of this woman with the hair of his body or the penis itself. There was the sound of a bedspring now, one spring. It squeaked. But in the thrill of fulfillment, neither Charlie nor Emily seemed to care what happened to the silence. Let it be shattered by the sound of the squeaking spring!
Now there was no stopping, no respite to be had. The thrust and withdrawal took on a demanding, steady rhythm of their own. In and out, up and down, circling with the hips and rump, thrusting upward, then downward, with the body angle changing sharply to make certain that the whole sensitive area of this woman felt the hard, positive stroke of this man as she lay on the bed, bound by the wrists and ankles, compelled to let him do with her whatever he wished.
He brought her to fulfillment three times, then four. The sound of the springs shattered the night with its constant reminder that here was a mating couple. And Emily found a strange satisfaction in realizing that Gary was probably hearing this sound of action that had been denied him in the past. The insensitive, self-centered oaf!
"Charlie, you're quite a man," Emily said. "I only wish there were some way you could give my husband a short course in giving a woman satisfaction."
"I'm afraid that Mildred will be a better teacher for him than I could be," Charlie said. "I find the joy of a woman like you such a rare and wonderful privilege that if I do anything right, it's the inspiration you give me rather than anything I bring to you."
Emily laid back, happily drinking in these words of chivalry, her whole being vibrant and alive and thrilling to the knowledge she had gained through this understanding, artful man.
He was driving into her faster now, faster than before. She was able to work her wrists free, fingering the knot in the scarf until it was loose.
Now she reached around his neck with those freed hands of hers, pulled his face down to hers where she could kiss him on the mouth and let her tongue find the insides of his mouth again. There was the feeling of her breasts against his chest, the delight of squeezing him tightly between her suddenly-wiser thighs.
The scarf stroked his cheeks and rested around his neck somehow now. Her hands came down and caught him behind the rump, pulling him into her deeply while she squirmed her pleasure and felt her inner muscles grabbing and wringing him, making him feel the joy she took in his physical presence.
And then he had to let it all flow, had to discharge his huge, demanding load into the woman whose response to his assault was so total, so thrilling. Deep inside her he stopped while his body shook with the powerful emotions of the total orgasm.
"God, what a woman you are!" he gasped in pleasure.
"And you, Charlie Greco, are quite a man," she whispered. The sincerity of the compliment was inescapable. "Thanks, Charlie. That was almost my first and certainly my most satisfying series of orgasms."
"There'll be more," he assured her. "From me, from others, even from that pretty boy you married. He has a lot of learning to do, I suspect from what you tell me. He'll learn it."
Tenderly he untied her ankles. Then he fell asleep, his body cupped behind hers, his hand on her breast.
In the silence of the night, Emily kept on wriggling, a reminder that she had at last known total fulfillment as a woman, in her own right, a taunting of Gary with the continuing, slow, steady squeaking of the springs.