Chapter 6

At a few minutes past six the following evening, Dave Gary was stretching out in his favorite easy chair.

He had just had time to sit down, take off his jacket, loosen his tie, and open a copy of that day's "Wall Street Journal."

"How about fixing me a pitcher of martinis, honey?" Dave called out to Melinda in the other room.

"Fine, dear."

"Where's our young man."

"Jerry said he wouldn't be home till late tonight. He and his friend Skip had a double date."

"You know, I'm kind of glad to hear that," Dave laughed. "Not that I'm trying to make it sound like I don't want to see Jerry, because I do. It's just that there are times when I like to be alone with you."

"I'm happy to hear that."

"Hustle up the martinis, honey."

Melinda faithfully made the pitcher of martinis, then brought it into the living room, along with two glasses.

"Here you are," she said after pouring some of the contents of the pitcher into a glass and handing it to her husband.

"Thank you, honey. You're about the best-looking cocktail waitress around," he winked. "Go ahead and pour yourself one."

"I don't feel a whole lot like drinking." . "You will after you pour yourself something," he smiled.

Melinda poured herself a martini, then sat down on the chair opposite the one in which Dave was sitting.

"You look good, honey," he said. "I like it when you wear a nice tight skirt like that. You sure do have a cute ass."

"Thank you."

"You know, a guy has to be a damned hard-nosed bastard in my business."

"Why is that?"

"You'd be surprised the people I've got to say no to when it conies to loans," he shook his head. "But you just can't play favorites, and you just can't approve a loan because you happen to like somebody's looks."

"That is certainly true."

"I like sitting around the house and getting horny looking at you. I'll tell you something. After I've had a few martinis, I'll feel like fucking."

"I'm fixing pot roast, dear. Don't you want to eat first?"

"Hell no! I'd rather fuck first. We can eat later."

"Have it your way. I guess I'd better go in there, though, and turn off the oven."

"Do whatever you've got to, baby, but let's just cool it. I want to fuck you."

"You're very blunt about things."

"Why the hell shouldn't I be? I'm just a hard-nosed bastard with a hard prick, and I don't see any reason to bullshit or beat around the bush. If I want to fuck, I want to fuck, and right now that's about all I'm thinking about. That and polishing off this pitcher of martinis."

Melinda got up from the chair, walking into the kitchen and turning off the oven.

As she walked back into the living room, she couldn't help but contrast how Dave was acting with how her son Jerry had conducted himself.

She liked Jerry's bearing much better. He wasn't the kind of young man who took things for granted. As for her husband, he seemed to take everything for granted where she was concerned. He felt that because they were married, he was entitled to any gratuity he wanted, particularly when it applied to sex.

They finished one martini, then moved on to a second round.

"I'm really loosening up," Dave laughed. "As a matter-of-fact, the old cock is getting hard just looking at you. My prick always has that eye for you."

Melinda said nothing. She was turned off of him by the way that he acted. But she loved very much the manner in which Jerry had conducted himself. The differences were becoming all the more apparent as time elapsed.

Dave licked his lips as he finished another martini.

"Come on and pour me another one," he said impatiently. "I want to finish off this pitcher. Then I'll be all set to ball with you."

A few minutes later, the contents of the martini pitcher had been finished.

Dave had a silly grin on his face as he reached out with his left hand and quickly unzipped his trousers.

He pulled out his rock-hard penis, which he fingered gracefully as he pumped up and down on his long cock.

"Just have a look at my prick," Dave said. "You're going to have a chance to suck it, honey."

Melinda raised her glass to her lips, finishing the contents of her martini.

She watched Dave rise slowly to his feet, continuing to steadily work his fingers up and down

"Let's go in the bedroom," Dave grinned. "I want to get involved in a little high-purpose fucking."

Melinda got up, following Dave into the bedroom.

She couldn't help, however, feeling a measure of regret over what was about to take place. She didn't like being taken for granted by Dave, but didn't know what to do about her displeasure.

She recognized that it was something she had to live with.