Chapter 1
Sue Bigelow did something she very rarely permitted herself to do; she went back to bed after John left for his job as Sales Manager of Metrodynamics Television Industries. Before climbing between the sheets, however, she did another unprecedented thing when she lifted the black nylon nightgown up over her head and stood nude before the full-length minor, critically inspecting her body. Staring back at her was the lively image of a not-quite-tall, tousled red-haired girl of twenty-four, with jade green eyes, full lips, slightly wide shoulders, perfectly formed thirty-six-inch breasts the size of premium large oranges, a tiny twenty-four inch waist, gracefully flaring hips and alabaster-white buttocks, a pouting Mound of Venus and long, perfectly shaped thighs and legs. Satisfied at what she saw, she shook her head in bewilderment.
Then, still nude, she lay down on the bed and pulled the floral printed sheet and gold electric blanket up tight around her shoulders. The sheets against her bare skin felt incredibly sensual, and she twisted her shoulders back and forth a couple of times, rubbing her nipples against the material.
Then she turned to the empty pillow next to her. "John, what's wrong with us? Why don't you like to make love to me any more? Don't you need me? Christ, I sure need you! Have I done something? Is there another woman?"
She sighed deeply, and there was the faintest suspicion of a tear in the corner of her green eyes.
God knows, she thought, I've done everything I could to make the honeymoon last. Now, barely a year since their marriage, both she and John were bored. Sue didn't deny that fact; like everything else in life, Sue believed in facing the truth of a situation head-on, and she never practiced self-deception.
No, the truth of the matter was that something was missing out of their romance, and for the life of her, Sue couldn't figure out where they had gone wrong or what was missing. She loved her husband; she had no doubt that he loved her equally. And yet, there were times when she was in the company of other couples that she felt herself being drawn almost irresistibly toward another male. There was magnetism there, a strange and wicked animal magnetism that could only-lead to disaster.
Facing the truth now as she lay in bed listening to the rain fall outside and feeling the need inside of her, Sue put her jumbled thoughts into words. "I would like... to be... fucked... by another man." Having said it, she closed her eyes tightly, with a defiant expression on her face, as though she expected to be slapped. Deep inside her brain, a portion of her consciousness cringed in something akin to fear as the meaning of her remark sank in.
"And furthermore," she continued, "I think John would like to ball a couple of other women... if he hasn't been doing so already. I think he'd love to make out with Ellen or Kathy... I think."
She sighed again. For a couple whose sex life had started out so beautifully, it certainly had turned to sour owl guano in a hurry once they had gotten married. She and John had been lovers for two wonderfully hot exciting years before their marriage. Then, about six months after the official knots had been tied, there had come subtle changes in their relationship. Instead of making love four or five times a week, John now seemed interested in her only once or twice a week. And lately, he had been doing it the exact same way every time. As if he were in a hurry, or guilty, or submitting to punishment. No variation in position, no attempts to find new and more exciting ways of doing it... nothing. No more "nooners," as he used to call them, either; and no more leaving a trail of clothes and undergarments scattered from front door to bedroom. Just routine. And boredom!
Sue searched for the word and found it. "Perfunctory," she said aloud. "My husband makes love to me perfunctorily."
A sudden gust of wind made the rain rattle like pebbles against the bedroom windowpane. The sound in itself was chilling and cold, and Sue shivered. The weather forecast was for intermediate to heavy rain for the next twenty-four hours, with the snow level dropping to 1,500 feet by nightfall. It was typical of the Arctic storms that barrel down the coast to hit Northern California three or four times each winter. San Franciscans would come out blinking into the sunlight tomorrow and find a few of the higher hills wearing an ermine cloak of snow.
Sue's body was covered with goosebumps. The chill had caused her nipples to tighten and become erect. The only warm place on her entire body seemed to be that slumbering volcano between her legs. She turned up the thermostat on the electric blanket and heard the little relays click loudly.
My Mound of Venus is really Mount Vesuvius, she thought sleepily, and yawned. Too bad it can't blow out a smoke ring once in a while... just to let John know it's there.
The thought tickled her. She grinned, yawned, then closed her eyes. She was asleep again almost immediately, and once again she dreamed of a tall, faceless, athletic middle-aged man making love to her in the most delicious way... she could even feel the rough edges of his tongue as it licked, licked, licked away at her femaledom.