Chapter 1
Bob's thirty-fourth birthday dinner was everything his wife had planned it to be.
Jill Carlson smiled coquettishly under a halo of honey curls, her blue crystal eyes reflecting orange spots from the flaming cake she set on the table before him. As she did, the top layer slid lopsidedly. Jill giggled. "Oops! ... Make a wish, darling, and blow them all out!" she said gustily.
Jill was happy and relaxed tonight; happy because her Greek Moussaka had just the right hint of cinnamon, and relaxed because as she looked at her tall, handsome husband, she realized just how much she loved him ... even if he left her alone much of the time.
She pecked him fondly on the cheek as they hollowed and he puffed out the last smoldering candle. "Happy birthday, baby," she murmured hotly into his ear.
A relief it was to be home with his wife tonight instead of sitting cooped up in a showroom watching haughty homosexual male models waggle their tight buttocks in tailer-made suits. It was a small price to pay as senior buyer for Sanger's Department Store for whom travel was a prerequisite to advancement. Miles behind meant money ahead. Bob grinned and kissed her back. He looked up at his wife, once more feeling the stirrings of love and sensuality that had first excited him and had never once stopped making him want her body and soul for four married years. Jill was a lithe, vivacious woman, bubbly and just aggressive enough to be flirtatious. An ex-model by profession, four years off the runway and in the kitchen had put a few healthy pounds on her slight frame until now her ripe figure nearly burst the white gauze blouse she wore. The plunging neckline disclosed more than a casual view of her sun-bronzed breasts, breasts which Bob knew had been first caressed by him. Jill had been a virgin at marriage.
Jill was suddenly pop-eyed alert, as if she'd forgotten something; she scurried into the kitchen, her high-heeled sandals clapping against the linoleum floor. Bob craned his head, watching the smooth enticing undulations of her buttocks, the twin globes a rhythmic reminder of the warm wet passion she stored between those slim thighs. He had just enough alcohol in his brain to let his thoughts roam to the 'birthday present' he was going to ask for in the bedroom.
She returned with a chilled bottle of vintage champagne clasped in her red-tipped fingers. "For my special baby on his birthday," she cooed, clasping her hands and bending servicely over his shoulder to fill his glass, her lushly bronzed breasts grazing his chin.
Eyes wide, Bob sucked in his breath trying to calm his lecherous impulses. Jill was looking her provocative best tonight and he wished to hell he could spend every night at home feeding her libido.
Sanger's Department Store had given him the career break he needed, flying him from coast to coast and abroad to Paris, London and Rome to view the spring lines in men's fashions, putting business before marriage. That pre-emption was building towards Jill's ruination. She abhored staying alone in the house at night and their trained-to-kill Doberman pinscher was no more brave. As Jill's physician, Dr. Kinder, had told Bob icily, "Nothing can replace a warm protective body when you're feeling lonely," making Bob feel like a two-inch rat for leaving Jill alone.
His wife's mental well-being worried him, a worry that often fringed on guilt ... especially when she started whimpering girlishly when he packed to leave on a business trip. Insecurity had become a disease with her, and insomnia a nightly symptom. Christ, his doctor bills!
But tonight ... tonight he was home and Jill was aglow, the woman he'd remembered her to be. Now to the bedroom....
Smoothing her skirt tight to her smooth buttocks, Jill took her seat, and bracing her elbows on the tablecloth, took Bob's hand between her own delicate ones. Lifting it to her glossy cherry lips, she kissed it, nibbling teasingly on his knuckles.
His mouth went bone dry; this champagne was going to his head-via his penis! For an instant, his eyes blurred and made a quick enlargement, bloating that skinny finger into a hot pulsating cock-his cock-with her succulent lips sucking and pulling at the rubbery flesh until he. ... Stop it! he told himself, shivering to the bone as his wife's long silky eyelashes fluttered flirtatiously over her rouged cheeks.
"Baby, honey, it's so wonderful having you at home with me. Jilly gets so lonely without her hubby around to keep her tootsies warm at night." She was sucking on his finger now, leaving glossy red smears of lipstick along its knobby length. "Does the birthday boy want to go into the bedroom now and let his wifey give him a birthday kiss?" Jill pooched out her lips and closed her eyes, and compliantly Bob pressed his dry lips to her soft ones in a warm, loving kiss which he quickly broke.
He threw down the remainder of his glass, grabbed the champagne bottle by the neck, tucking it under one arm and snatched his wife by the arm. "Got yourself a deal. Like wine, I get better with age!"
"Oh, you're so cute," she moaned passionately, clinging to him needfully as her gold-trimmed ankle strap sandals dug into the carpet, treading onward toward the bedroom.
"I love you, too, dearest," he replied throatily, throwing open the bedroom door until it banged against the rose wallpaper. He flicked on the light and adjusted the rheostat. The champagne bottle clinked heavily on the marble top nightstand and the sound of tinkling change and keys echoed in Jill's ears as Bob unzipped his suit pants and shimmied out of them, standing before his wife in his striped boxer shorts, tenting ridiculously from his forty-degree erection.
"Ohhhh...." she giggled hand up to her mouth like a twelve year old at her first dance, her eyes glued on her husband's incipient virility. Sticking her tongue tip between her pearly teeth, she kicked off her shoes. Immediately her hands reached up under the flouncy white gauze skirt where her thumbs hooked in the delicate nylon of her pantyhose, pulling them down gently so as not to put runs in the Givenchy hose. Ten painted toenails squirmed expectantly into the inch thick smoke-colored carpet as Jill watched her husband carry through with the preliminaries-fluffing up the pillows and pulling down the blankets. Her delicate fingertips worked at the drawstring of her bloson blouse, loosening it, then pulling it over the lace-cupped mounds of her brassiere and over her head. Draping her skirt on the nearest chair, she watched Bob take a healthy swig of champagne and smack his lips like a truly content man.
Naked now except for her lace trimmed panties and matching brassiere, Jill darted toward the dressing room where she brushed her curls, sprayed an aromatic streak of Lacome on her creamy cleavage and behind her ears. Tonight's dinner had been so yummy ... and now for the dessert.
Smelling lavishly, she pranced into the bedroom, ready to jump into bed; but Bob was standing brooding, the telephone receiver held limply in his hand. What was wrong with him?
"Oh, I love you so much," she moaned passionately, kissing his neck, wondering what had plunged him into this dark mood. Gosh, maybe he had heartburn from her Moussaka ... it was rather rich.
"I love you, too, baby," he echoed, and then pulled away, unprepared to let his eyes tangle with his wife's probing ones. "But ... but I'm afraid we don't have much time."
"Don't ... don't ... have ... much ... time?" She mouthed the words as if he'd spoken a foreign language.
From five feet away Jill could hear his dry mouthed swallow. "I ... I have to shower and get ready to leave," he said guiltily.
"Leave?" She eyed him with growing apprehension. "Leave for where? This is your birthday, Bob!"
Bob closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head. "I know, honey, please try to understand. That was Loren on the phone just now." Lowering his head, he touched his fingertips to his forehead. "I can't believe I forgot ... I was supposed to meet him at the airport. We're flying out for New York tonight."
"New York? But you promised we'd have tonight together!" she blasted, her pale blue eyes turning sallow.
"Now please, honey," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. She shook him off like a swarm of annoying insects. "It'll only be overnight, and we'll be back tomorrow night for sure. It can't be helped. If I'm gonna make head buyer I have to...."
"Can't be helped!" Jill, already at nerve's end, trembled with anguish and disappointment. Her cheeks reddened and a single tear slowly coured down from her watering eyes. "Of all the times to have to go away and leave me alone ... after I...." she ceased her wailing, catching her breath. "After I baked you that cake and spent all afternoon in the kitchen peeling those damned eggplants ... I cut myself slaving over that damned dinner!" she accused, doing her level best to make him feel like a worm. "Look!" She brandished a bandaged finger in his face. Seeing the hurt look on his face, her angered cooled. "Oh, don't go, Bob ... please tell Loren you can't go!"
Bob stared at the ceiling, his jaw muscles working overtime. "You know better than that, Jill," he said, trying to comfort her fears and feeling impotently unsuccessful. "Like I said, I'll be back tomorrow night. I'll take you out for dinner and a movie afterwards to make up for this ... gosh, I'm sorry."
"No! No, stay with me, Bob, stay with me tonight! I ... I need you so bad!" Jill couldn't go on, humiliation and hurt burgeoning up and filling her throat. Damn, damn, damn! If only she could accompany Bob on this trip, but even without asking, she knew that was a pipe dream. They'd discussed that matter before.
With a desperate moan, she watched Bob walk across the room to the bathroom, wearing only his boxer shorts. She could tell he felt terrible about leaving her alone after their plans of spending all night in the bedroom, but that was cold comfort indeed. She fought to control her sobbing as she heard the shower's spray and the scraping sound of her husband pulling shut the shower curtain. She lay back on the wide double bed, groaning with the misery she felt deep within her. God, how she loathed staying home alone in this big house at night. A rash of burglaries had been reported in the last few weeks and she shuddered in horror remembering that night down in Bogota, Colombia when she'd been visiting her grandparents.
Her grandfather, a chief executive with an American based mining company had awakened in the night, hearing suspicious sounds. A veteran of the first world war, he was afraid of nothing. Even now Jill shuddered and clamped her hands over her ears, recalling how as a five-year-old girl she'd hid under her bed while the crackle of gunfire put a dime-sized hole in her grandfather's forehead. In the opposite bedroom, her grandmother's screams echoed in the ears of her memory.
Jill hadn't lied about needing Bob tonight ... and she wanted him as badly as she needed him. Her blood was seething with a strangely gripping sexual excitement that even chilling memories couldn't freeze. She was hot, primed and ready to be loved. Jill glanced down at her lightly clothed body, groaning to herself: Bob ... Bob, hurry up in there. Maybe we'll have time ... I need you right now ... I have to know you love me and need me.
The shower's spray squirted to a stop, and after a few more moments, her handsome husband came out of the bathroom, rubbing himself dry with a large fluffy bath towel.
"Bob," her voice sighed, and she hardly recognized the provocatively husky new tone of it. "Bob, don't get dressed ... yet. Come here to me."
"Huh?" His eyes flashed to the digital clock on the bed stand.
"Here ... to me, baby...." Impulsively, she stretched out fully on the bed, then rolled slightly to the edge and stood up. Tantalizingly, like an exotic stage dancer practicing her moves, she reached behind her back and unhooked the fastening of her brassiere, pulling the netted cups away from her warmly tingling breasts, doing it slowly and making sure that the hardening pink nipples were the last to meet her husband's-wide-eyed stare. She dropped the brassiere on top of the skirt and then raised her hand to cup the full rich mounds, kneading them as a lover would. Finally, she dropped her fingers to her nylon panties and slowly worked them down over her long, tapering legs until she was standing before him completely nude.
Then seductively, using her palms and undulating rhythmically, she slid back on the coverlet and lay down on her back, glimpsing down her fully naked body ... down at her breasts now unhampered by a brassiere and down at the flat plane of her trembling belly, down to where her blonde pubic curls covered her pinkly quivering cuntal slit. For one mortifying moment she saw that her vaginal lips were shining with the excited honeyed dew of her secretions, and felt the erotic moistening up between her thighs. Jill felt an inexplicable boldness she had never experienced before, an irrational desire to do something she shouldn't do. Jill gradually spread her legs wide in an obscenely audacious position, exposing to her husband's startled eyes all of the wet pulsating crevice of her pussy. Her hips began a lewd rotation on the bedspread beneath her buttocks, arching upwards in a measured, intoxicating invitation, and she cooed up at him: "Please, Bob ... Come here...." The tip of her pink tongue slithered out to wet her dry lips.
"Jill!" he croaked hoarsely, struck by the lascivious sight of his modest wife acting like a slut. He glanced at the digital clock, and groaned at the time. "I can't, honey," he said, shaking his head and scrunching up his forehead until his heavy dark eyebrows met in a frown. "We'll make love for two days straight when I get back ... but now I've got to get going!"
"Sit down, Bob. Just for a minute and that's all. You can spare sixty seconds for your wife, can't you?"
"Honey ... Loren'll be pissed off if I...." Letting out a deep relenting sigh, Bob sat down on the edge of the bed as if he were giving himself running room, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her sensually naked body in spite of his certain knowledge that delay now would look bad to Loren ... after forgetting the appointment in the first place. He'd have hell to pay if he were late. "Honey, I'm sorry...."
"Darling ... don't I please you any longer?" she asked with sultry pouting, undulating her naked body against his. Her hand encircled his waist and drew away the towel; he had come from the bathroom without any underwear and was now as naked as she. The sight of his soft cock nestled against his testicles incited Jill's passions still more, and of their own volition, her fingers slid slowly over his hips and thighs and dipped down into his loins. Bob gritted his teeth with the delightful sensations of her feather-like touch and the sensuous sight of her salaciously squirming beside him, from her erotic pink nipples downward to the delicate triangle of soft, blonde pubic curls.
"You know you please me, Honey, but-" He abruptly had to suck in his breath, for his wife had caressed his penis. As limp as it had been a second before, it was now throbbing with blood-pumping tingles and growing hard. "No ... stop Jill!"
She moaned softly and stroked his beginning erection with fervent desire. She watched his lengthening manhood rise into full, heated hardness, its blunt cock head becoming swollen and purplish and pulsing. Her mind and loins were a maelstrom of scorching excitement as she pumped at his penis, her fingers gently rubbing its thickening length up and down, building her own passions as they created erotic shocks in Bob's groin. God, she wanted him! Her naked body cried out to be stuffed with his wonderful penis so that she could relax and feel like a whole woman.
"Take me, Bob...." she cooed, still stroking, still pumping with clenched fingers as only she knew how. "God, please make love to me, Bob! Ohhhh, take me!"
Bob felt his heart hammering with the beating of her pressured demands, and he felt himself slipping from his self control, changing from a salesman to a lover. Christ, Jill had always affected him this way, even after all their years of marriage! If it only weren't for this damnable trip to New York! Ohhhh, but Loren was waiting for him at the airport! He had to contain himself! He glanced at the clock again with agonized eyes, only to feel his throbbing cock ache with obscene urgency. How could a man deny his basic needs? Above all, he was a man and as his wife continued to caress his penis and testicles and entwine her hotly panting body around his hips in squirming insistence, he couldn't resist taking her.
"Yes ... Yes!" he responded, running his hands over her nakedly straining breasts. His fingers tweaked her nipples into rock hard buds, and then he moved his right hand down the fleshy valley between her firm, high set breasts, thrilling from the sight of her pleasure radiating from her lovely face. Her features were almost cherubic with an aura of innocence about them which made loving her all the better. It was like making love to a virgin every time, like arousing the woman in a girl and seeing passion overcome resistance as it had that first time. Then, his eyes trailing along the path his lowering hand was making, he looked down ... down past the flat, rippling plane of her white belly to the softly curling blonde hair framing her pink vaginal slit. Her tender cunt glistened wetly in the bedroom light, her sexual ferment secreting droplets like morning mist on her golden pubic hair.
Bob leaned downward, unable to control his impulses any longer, and he crushed his mouth against her inner thigh. He tried to suck up every sweet flowing drop of her succulent pussy juices, brushing his tongue against her fevered cuntal lips with yearning lust. Jill moaned but brought her hips up sharply to stop him.
"No ... no ... not there, Bob! Not with your mouth!" Her arms encircled his head and pulled him upward along her body toward her warm, pliant mouth, opened with supplication. "Kiss me on the lips, darling," she whispered. "Not down there...."
Bob didn't resist. He allowed himself to be urged up along the naked length of his wife's twisting body and ground his mouth down onto hers, slithering his tongue between her teeth. This was the one flaw in an otherwise wonderful sexual relationship, he thought. He had tried to show her the erotic arousal lips against vulva, mouth around penis, could produce. Other girls had sucked him in the past, before he and Jill had met and married, and naturally, he wanted his wife to do the same to him. Yes ... and to see her head roll from side to side as he tongued the velveteen insides of her cuntal slit in return. It wasn't an unfair request. He had only to shut his eyes to imagine that butter-soft mouth of hers sawing hungrily around his long hard cock while he lapped at the delectable flesh of her pussy, and the very thought made him tense his loins, even as he kissed her on the mouth. God, how he wanted to cum inside her there, to spurt his hot creamy sperm down her throat as he had other throats, and hear her mewling and crooning with desire as he did so. Yes, and he wanted to make her reach a climax by taking her clitoris between his front teeth and running his tongue tip around her pussy, until finally he plunged his tongue deep into the warm wet cavern of her cunt to soak up its juicy secretions, just as he was now moving his tongue in her mouth in a sexual parody.
But it was never to be, not with as modest a woman as he had married. It had never happened once in four years and with that track record, he couldn't fool himself into thinking those dreams would ever come to fruition. In four years he'd come to know every action, every motion that they would make, for their lovemaking had become a ritual over the years. He was aroused and wanted her, but ... but what? Was it the sameness? Was it the fact that some of the spice he'd enjoyed with other lovers wasn't to be found in this little dish? Bob loved his wife, but the mystery and exploration were gone like March's snow.
"Is ... is something the matter, Bob?" whispered Jill
"Shush...." He kissed her eyes. "I was just thinking how beautiful you are."
"Oh, Bob ... I need you so bad. I need you inside of me now."
"Yes...." he heard himself comply. He drew her closer to him, pressing his lips harder against hers to push back his doubting thoughts. Eagerly, she strained the full length of her luscious curves and bumps, grinding and pushing, and then spread her legs and slender thighs wide as he rolled over on top of her, her one hand still firmly around his warmly pulsating penis and poising it against the snug mouth of her hungry young cunt. The thin, hair-fringed lips of her vagina opened to him.
"There, Bob! Right there-now!"
Bob lunged, his hips thrusting heavily as he drove into her hotly expectant hole, feeling her quivering vagina greedily clasp around his cock and absorb it. She wanted all of him, and Bob was amazed that she seemed almost whorish. He couldn't understand her urgency ... but he didn't try, not with her nibbling pussy pressing upwards until the head of his cock was hard against her cervix, her motions making his muscles spasm. Jill clutched him tightly, not only with her gripping, smoothly sliding cunt, but with her widespread legs, kicking them out to the side and locking her slender ankles tight around his driving hips. He increased his strokings to keep up with hers, fucking into his whimpering wife with maniacal fury. Oh, Christ! He wasn't going to be able to last long this time! There were nights when they would make love slowly by the hour, but not now, not after all of her prick-teasing! His orgasm was rumbling in his testicles!
Bob drove deeper and faster into her cunt with each thrust of his buttocks, Jill twisting against him, screwing every portion of his cock and routing the huge head around inside her seething belly. He gasped and quivered, a fierce storm whirling through his flesh and his penis was sucked up into her wetly clasping pussy and battered her cervix. The eruption of his male seed started deep in his testicles....
Jill sensed that her husband was going to cum, feeling his penis swell and strain against the moist flesh of her cuntal walls was a sure-fire omen. She begged and pleaded: "Please, not yet, Bob! Not yet! Wait for meeeee!" Her legs splayed wider and her calves locked tightly behind his back as she writhed beneath him on the rebelliously squeaking bed. "Not yet! Not yettt!"
But Bob's time was up.
He clamped his mouth tightly down on hers, starting a long, low groan that rose from bass to tenor as he spurted his heated sperm deep up into her slippery hole. Jill could feel it surge into her womb in great, gushing tides, on and on as he emptied his spasming testicles like two big bursting tomatoes squirting out their juices ... until at last his jerking cock began to deflate with the last dregs of his semen. Jill was one bump and grind away from her own climax!
"No! No, darling, noooo!" she sobbed. It was a useless plea. She squeezed her buttocks up against his softening penis which had lost its mastery, and her bare heels pounded desperately against her husband's spent body. With an empty, apologetic groan, he rolled from between her still hungrily twitching thighs to lie exhausted beside her. "Bob ... don't leave me like this! Make love to me! Make love to meeee! OH, please, Bob!" Her eyes were wild and sparkling, almost dangerous.
Too late. Bob had returned to the world of sanity, his orgasm satisfying every inch of his body. He muttered something unintelligible, seeing by the digital clock he might lose his job if he didn't high-tail it out to the airport. "Honey ... I can't, honey. In a little while I could ... after I've rested a bit, but I just don't have to sit around and...."...." and satisfy your wife?" she blasted, making him feel like a heel. "Bob, this isn't fair!" she palintively whined, gasping at the sensual force tingling up in her pussy. "Please ... you have to get hard and make love to me! I'll go crazy! I'll ... I'll rape the paper boy!"
"Jill! What's got into you? I've never heard you act this way before!" Bob said, taken aback now by his wife's over-sexed reactions. "Stop it and calm down. Be a good wife and help me pack, will you?"
Jill shuddered, torn between the hot desires scorching her cunt and the heavy twinge of shame that flickered through her confused mind from his words. This was no way to behave ... it was wrong, all wrong, and she had to stop! Ohhhh, God, she had to stop! Subconsciously she knew she was testing his loyalties, but he shouldn't have to jeopardize his job to prove he loved and needed her-at least, that's what Dr. Kinder had said. Of course Bob loved her ... but oh why, then did he leave her alone all the time? She rolled her head from side to side, tears of frustration and humiliation streaming down the delicate contours of her cheek bones. But somehow she managed to still her pulsing body, though ripples of lecherous desire still prickled her naked flesh. When she managed to look around, she saw that Bob was stuffing his shirt tail into his pants and fumbling with a pair of cuff links, his mind already riveted on business matters.
Jill glanced down at the warm, white semen ozzing from her vaginal crevice and grimaced at the only sign that her husband had shown any interest in her. The searing thought crossed her disturbed and hotly aroused mind that perhaps something had changed Bob's once tender and romantic affection for her, and that he no longer cared about her as a person, as his wife. Possibly it was her own fault, nagging him about his out of town trips. Maybe he was carrying on an affair behind her back ... certainly he had the privacy to do so without a word of his infidelities slipping back to wifely ears.
Your imagination is running wild again ... stop that!
"Jill?" he said, snapping her train of thoughts back to the present.
"Yes, Bob," she sighed in a tremulous voice. "I'm okay ... don't worry about me." Slowly, she slung her legs off the bed and stood up, weak and dizzy. "Of course I'll help you pack ... one favor deserves another," she put in caustically.
Stiffening at her blunt reproach, Bob slammed the hairbrush down on the glass dresser top and glared at his wife's reflection in the mirror. Why did she insist on making him feel like a heel? His business schedule was open to attack-that he'd concede-but did she have to belittle his masculinity, too?
"Jill ... don't act this way!"
Lower lip quivering, Jill clamped her front teeth over it, trying to still the emotional storm and the maelstrom of sexual frustration in one feeble attempt. Cringing at the thought of ruining Bob's birthday, she hastened to make amends:
"You're right ... I'm acting like a little brat, but I'm scared of staying alone here ... especially after the Henderson's were robbed."
Bob let out a sigh signaling serious concern. "Jill, I promise to install one of those fool-proof burglar alarms the second I get back." He knotted his tie, inspected it briefly and darted into the dressing room where he threw his shaving kit into an overnight bag. Returning, he found his wife surreptitiously screwing the top back onto a medicine bottle.
"What's that?"
"Oh, don't get all upset," she retorted with weary boredom. "Dr. Kinder prescribed them to help me sleep," she said with a twinge of guilt, throwing the blue pill down her throat and washing it down with a swig of champagne.
"My God, Baby, you're gonna turn into a pill addict! Counting sheep would be a helluva lot healthier." Bob eyed his wife askance.
"Don't worry about me," she snipped. "Jill can take care of herself ... nobody else does." Slipping into a nightgown, she crawled into the rumpled bed, fluffed up the pillow and told herself there was nothing to fear.