Chapter 10
Monday morning.
George West arrived at work early and in excellent spirits. He immediately tackled the work on his desk, working at two to three times his normal rate of speed. He didn't intend to spend much time in the office today; one of the advantages of his position was that he could come and go pretty much as he pleased, and he deemed it wise to accomplish as much as he could during the time he was there.
Edna! he thought with satisfaction.
She had been great. And he had no doubt that he could have her again if he did so soon enough. After the promotion she might be a little more difficult; though, come to think of it, once a girl had obliged a guy, sooner or later she could generally be persuaded to do so again.
Yes, he and Edna might very well look forward to a pleasant future.
But Edna wasn't the woman he had on his mind this morning. Why stick to one woman when you could have two or three?
That was another advantage of his position. He held the key to the futures of certain men and therefore to the futures of their wives. And wives would often go to considerable lengths to assure those futures or at least to attempt to assure them. He wondered why he'd been so chicken about playing around with women who had company connections. He felt perfectly safe, and such women often presented the very best possibilities.
Who should he visit this morning?
He'd mainly been considering Daisy. She should be the easiest pigeon of them all, since she was the one who'd taken on Ben and Chuck. But Fern's rejection still irritated him. He was sure that the little cooper-headed doll could be had; he'd made his mistake in mentioning the party at the cabin. That had embarrassed her and put her off. He hadn't made that mistake with Edna, and look how easily everything had gone. He'd tackle Fern again, and the next time he'd score with her. But this morning might be just a little bit too soon.
That left just one candidate.
Daisy.
Whistling softly, he attacked his work again. People were arriving, and his secretary put a fresh pile of folders into his "in" box. Not too many, he was glad to see.
He kept an eye on the outer office. Ben arrived, looking a little weary, no doubt from a hard weekend. George was willing to bet that the little copper-haired girl gave the guy quite a workout during his off-hours. If things didn't work out with Daisy, maybe he should pay a call on Fern after all.
Chuck arrived, making jokes, his usual extroverted self. If he knew what his wife had been up to, he certainly didn't show it. Or maybe he was one of those guys who approved of his wife playing around in order to aid in his advancement. There were such people, George knew.
The surprise of the morning was Able. He'd lost the hangdog look he'd been wearing for the last three weeks or so. He was quiet, as usual, but he was cheerful, his old self, and he wasn't putting on an act. Whatever had been bugging him, no doubt the affair up at the cabin, though George hadn't known that until last Saturday night, had ceased to do so. Maybe Able and Daisy had reached some kind of new understanding.
Well, that was fine with George as long as he and Daisy weren't prevented from reaching an understanding too.
He laughed to himself. He hadn't actually promised Edna anything, and he had no intention of making a definite promise to Daisy or Fern either. All they could do was give him some fun and hone for the best. And if he took on the wives of all three men, why should he favor one man over the other in backing a candidate for the manager's position?
Let the girls take their chances.
He kept glancing at the clock and fidgeting. He hadn't intended to leave until after ten o'clock, but what if Daisy were to get tied up in a coffee session at a neighbor's house? What if she went out shopping for the day? Originally he'd thought that he'd just wait until the next day, but he didn't feel like waiting. And what if old Thompson Read insisted that they make a final selection of the candidate this afternoon and notify the man at once? That would spoil his chances with both Daisy and Fern. He had to work while the women still didn't know which husband would get the job.
At nine-twenty he hastily notified his secretary that he was going out and didn't know just when he'd be back. He talked and moved fast so as to give her no time to register any objection, and then he scuttled out of the office as quickly and quietly as he could.
When he was out on the street, he reviewed his plans. Should he call first or just drop in? Just dropping in had its merits, but it could conceivably lead to complications, say if a nosy neighbor was in the house. He decided to phone.
He called from a booth in a corner cigar store, and Daisy answered on the third ring.
"This is George, Daisy. George West."
"Oh. George...."
"Daisy, I'm calling you on a very confidential matter. You know that we're selecting a man to take my place as division manager, don't you?"
"Of course."
"And you know that Able is a leading candidate. I might almost say, the leading candidate."
"Well, I'm-I'm happy to hear that."
"Naturally, and naturally you'll do everything in your power to help him get the job and do well in it."
"Certainly," Daisy said, sounding anything but certain, and George wondered if she were beginning to catch on.
"At the executive level a man's family is very important, as you know," he went on. "Now, I know you very well, Daisy, but I do feel that you and I should have a little private talk and be sure that we understand each other. Do you see what I'm driving at?"
"I think I do, George."
"Good. It's imperative that I see you right away. Do you mind if I drive over this morning?"
"Well, the house is a mess and I'm not even dressed."
He laughed. "Daisy, don't even bother to get out of your nightie. You know you don't have to get dolled up for me. I'll be right over."
"George," she cut in quickly, "this may sound funny, but you know how neighbors are. Would you mind . ,,. well...."
George's heart thumped. Now he was fairly sure that Daisy was getting the right idea.
"Not parking too close if I'm going to be very long? Coming in the back way? Of course not, Daisy, and I'm glad that you're so circumspect. It's a good quality in an executive's wife."
"Thank you. I'll be expecting you."
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
He left the booth and found his car. This was going to be easy. Easy.
Daisy hung up the phone slowly. George had taken her completely by surprise and she needed a moment to gather her wits. She was standing in the kitchen, clad only in a bathrobe, and she wondered if George had meant to imply what she had inferred.
Why, really, should George want to talk to her?
Why alone?
Granting that even though they'd met and talked any number of other times, he still might want to talk to her with the promotion in mind, but weren't such little meetings held with both the husband and wife in attendance?
Surely they were, and for obvious reasons. The boss might want to apply a little persuasion, the wife a little charm.
Daisy grinned.
Maybe that wasn't what George had in mind, and the new possibility now occurred to Daisy. Would she dare?
Well, she'd certainly dared to do something that night at the cabin. Of course she'd been slightly stoned at the time, and excited, and so had everyone else. But there was no reason why she and George shouldn't get together and, for that matter, get liquored up as well, if that should prove necessary.
And George would surely be favorable to a candidate whose wife had been kind to him.
She'd be doing Able a favor, really, whether he knew it or not. The fact of the matter was that she'd grown pretty sick of Able during the last few weeks. Actually she'd been bored with him for a long time before that, though, she'd hardly admitted as much to herself. The episode at the cabin had simply helped to bring matters to a head. If she hadn't, unconsciously, at least, been bored to tears, she would never have done what she did.
But having done it, new horizons had opened to her.
She'd been brought up in a quite conventional way, and she'd always been a conventional girl, but she'd never really had any positive moral training. Now, if she had the courage, she had found that she could have all kinds of fun on the side.
Not that she wouldn't be willing to stay with Able. He was a good fellow in many ways. And if he got this promotion and all the money and status that went with it, she'd have even more reason for sticking with him. Maybe he'd even stop acting so beaten down, the way he'd been doing lately.
Who would have thought that he'd react so strongly just because she'd had a little fun and because she'd cut him off? She'd done the latter in order to give him something as a prize it he got the promotion, but also, she had to admit, because she was tired of him; because his behavior at the cabin had made her feel sick. Oh she'd stick with him all right, but nothing would be quite the same between them again. She'd see to that.
Now, what about George? It wouldn't take him very long to get here and she wanted to be ready.
The kitchen was already pretty well cleaned up. Good. The house as a whole was in pretty good shape, despite what she'd told George. She pulled down a few shades. She didn't want any neighbors who might see her guest arrive to observe her pulling them down later.
She went upstairs to the bedroom. The bed was rumpled, and she quickly whisked off the old sheets and put on fresh ones, leaving the top one turned down. The bed was ready.
For what?
She laughed at herself. Did she actually think that she and George might occupy this bed together? Naked? Playing? Kissing? Stimulating each other? Making love in full daylight?
Yes, she did.
The very idea excited her. In a way, she'd cut her own throat by cutting Able off. She hadn't wanted him to touch her, but she had wanted to be touched; she'd been getting hungrier every day. Last Saturday night at the club she'd spent the whole time avoiding Able and trying to get up nerve to have some kind of adventure. She hadn't succeeded.
Now adventure was coming to her.
She pulled down the shades and turned to a chest of drawers. She had to decide what to wear. George had said that she didn't have to get all dolled up, that she didn't even have to get out of her nightie, and that was one reason she'd thought of this adventure. Well, she would get dolled up, in a baby-doll nightie, since she didn't have a nightie on already.
She took off her bathrobe and hung it up in the closet. Then she took the panties of a pink nightie from a drawer and raised one foot to put them on. She hesitated. Why bother? She put the panties back in the drawer and took out the top, pulling it over her head and shoulders. The garment barely came down to the bottoms of her buttocks, and her nipples showed clearly through the white lace at the top.
She decided that she'd better have just a little more on There was always the possibility that George's visit was legitimate and that he really wasn't interested in having any fun, though from what she'd seen of the man that last point seemed dubious. She found a diaphanous pink negligee and slipped it on over the nightie, not bothering to tie it closed. Her nipples still showed, if far less distinctly, and her bare legs tended to slide out of the opening in the front. Her figure wasn't disguised in the slightest.
She stepped into a pair of pink slippers, and that completed her ensemble. All she had to do now was to wait.
She wondered if she was crazy. She wondered if she'd actually do anything. She wondered if-
She heard the back doorbell ring.
Hatless, sweating slightly, George West stood on the back porch. Thus far he hadn't seen any neighbors, and he hoped that they hadn't seen him. He'd parked around the corner from the house and come through the alley, and he was carrying an attache case as a prop, as if he had legitimate business here. His whole body humming slightly with anticipation, he waited.
He was about to ring the bell again when Daisy appeared behind the screen door. He took a deep breath, and he couldn't prevent his eyes from widening. She'd certainly taken him at his word about not bothering to get out of her nightie. He suspected that she'd received his real message loud and clear.
She smiled and said, "Come on in, George," and he stepped through the kitchen door.
Now he could see her more clearly. A long, slim leg appeared out of the front of the pink neglige, and the seductive configuration of the other was hardly hidden by the thin material. Her breasts lifted her nightie and the open front of the negligee far out from her body, and the darkness of her nipples was just discernible. George felt a new flush of sweat as he stared at her.
She smiled, and he thought he saw excitement in her eyes. "I really didn't have time to get dressed," she said, "so I took you at your word. I mean, about staying in my nightie." The tip of her tongue played on her red lips.
"You're smart," he said, trying to appear more casual than he felt. "Who wants to get dressed on a day like this?"
"Yes, it is hot, isn't it? Even for the end of summer."
"Oh, we have some of the hottest days of the year around here in September."
Their words set the tone of the game they would play. They smiled at one another, and their eyes suggested more than their mouths actually said.
"Why don't you put down that case, George? Loosen your tie, and take off your coat if you want to. I'm sure you'll be much more comfortable."
"Thanks. I think I'll just do that."
"Here-let me help you." As he reached for his tie, her hands went to his neck and loosened the knot. Taking more time than was necessary, she unfastened the tie, her hands warm against his chest. She unfastened his collar button, pulled the tie clear off, and stuffed it into one of his jacket pockets.
"Let's get some air in there," she said, and she unfastened the next two buttons on his shirt. She shook his shirt front for ventilation, pulling it open and blowing against his bare chest. Then she inserted the fingers of her right hand under the material and circled his left nipple
"My goodness," she said softly, "you are warm, aren't you!"
"Yes-too bad we don't have a swimming pool nearby. I'll bet we could both use something to cool off."
Her smile widened. "I'm afraid that the best I can offer you is the use of our shower. Take off your jacket, George, and let's have a cup of coffee."
She stepped behind him and helped him to shed his suit jacket, hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. He sat down at the table.
"Some people like cold drinks in the summer," she said as she poured, "but I find there's nothing like a cup of hot black coffee to make me feel better."
"I agree. Makes me sweat more, but still I feel cooler."
She served the coffee and sat down at the table with him. She sat, not across from him, but around one corner, her legs out to one side, so that he still got a good view of her. In fact, a better view than ever. Her gown fell to her sides and her long, tan legs, crossed at the knees, were on full display. She demurely tucked the bottom of her baby-doll nightie between her thighs, but that just exposed more of her rich, round breasts, and he could see a strip of white left by her bathing suit along one exposed hip.
He stared at her and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Now, about the promotion, George," she said, "I suppose you want to know if I'm the kind of woman you'd Eke to have ... as the wife of the next divisional manager."
"That's right, Daisy, though actually I'm already convinced that you'll be fine, you'll be wonderful. Still, I did think we should get together."
"I'm sure you're right. To tell the truth, I've been quite excited about the idea of your coming to see me ever since you called a little while ago.""
She dangled her bare, crossed leg, and her pink slipper hung loosely from her toes. He could hardly keep his eyes off of the inviting thigh and calf, and he didn't try to hide his interest.
They continued to chat, their tone always light and casual, their voices lower and softer than was necessary. Daisy went on bobbing her foot, and she ran the pink tip of her tongue over her full lips from time to time, looking up at him through long, dark lashes.
And increasingly he was convinced that she wasn't just leading him on, she wasn't just teasing him. She had a good idea of what he wanted from her and she was willing to give it to him. More than that, she was eager. She wanted the excitement, the thrill, the pleasure, just as much as he did.
He found himself growing tense with anticipated excitement, and he forced himself to remain calm. He didn't want to become completely aroused until the right moment came, meanwhile he'd do best to conserve his strength. But Daisy made that hard. He was an experienced man, an older man, quite mature; but she made him tend to react to her like an adolescent.
She wiggled in her chair, and one breast all but sprang out of the top of her nightie. He even saw a quarter-moon of rosy brown aureole.
"By the way, George, you never have seen all of my house, have you?"
He sensed that the words marked a step forward toward the goal they both wanted. "Why no, Daisy, I never have."
"Would you like to?"
"I'd be delighted."
"I hope you will be." Her voice was more sultry than ever. And as they stood up from the table, he felt his pulse quicken.
First she opened the door to the basement game room. "But of course you've seen that before." Then she led the way through the dining room to the living room and the front hall, and he made appropriate sounds of approval, as if he'd never seen any of this before.
"I have fixed things up a little more since you were last here," she said, "but Able's workshop is just the same. Shall we go upsatirs?"
They should indeed.
She led the way, the tan bottoms of her fanny waving in his face through the thin pink of her negligee. He could see almost everything. He'd never before had such a desire to reach out for a woman and bite her. He seemed to be looking through pink silk at twin bowls of coffee-and-vanilla ice cream, but nobody had ever made ice cream like this.
Here's the hall bathroom," she said when they were on the landing.
"Well that hasn't changed since I last used it," he said, and they both laughed.
She pointed out the two guest bedrooms-"We don't really need them both"-and led the way through a door.
"This is my room, and my own shower room is right over there."
He noted that she generally avoided mentioning Able. This was her room, not their room. He also noted that the bed was ready for occupancy.
She faced him, standing very close, smiling like a little girl who expects something pleasing to happen. He could smell the heady perfume of her warm flesh.
"Do you like my room?" she asked.
"Yes, I do. And if that air conditioner in the window were on, I think I could stay here all day."
Her smile widened, and she went by him to close the door. Then she went to the air conditioner and twisted its switch. Within seconds he felt its cool zephyr sliding under the front of his shirt.
She looked at him and smiled again. "Still feel like going some place for a swim?"
"I think I'd appreciate that shower you mentioned even more"
She waved a hand at the shower room door. "All right, be my guest."
He swallowed hard and his cheeks burned. The moment of truth was arriving, and arriving fast. He felt as if she were issuing a dare, a challenge.
"I think I'll just do that," he said, and he reached for his fourth shirt button.
His nervous fingers fumbled, and she stepped up to assist him.
"Let me help you."
"Do you really think you should?" he asked jocularly, though his voice was strained.
"I'm a big girl. Do you think I don't know how to help you?"
He didn't answer. Her fingers burned his bare skin as she touched him, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the tails out. Then she shoved him toward the bed.
"Sit down," she said.
He sat, and she knelt to take off his shoes and socks while he looked at the way her breasts balloned and swung forward.
"Great service," he commented.
She grinned up at him. "I think I'm pretty good at giving service."
As he started pulling off his shirt, she stood up. "You'd be surprised at how warm a flimsy negligee like this is," she said. "Would you mind if I took it off?"
"Make yourself comfortable."
"I intend to."
She slipped out of the negligee and whirled around so that the short little nightie stood out from her body. From the view he got, she might almost as well have been naked. Now the flux, gathering, and stretching of every smooth, velvet-covered muscle about her navel was apparent. Her buttocks showed completely.
Staring at her as she hung up her negligee, he unfastened his buckle, waist clasp, and zipper. He raised his hips an inch and slid his trousers down. At that point she returned to him. She said, "I'll do that," and drew his trousers down and off. His stare never faltered as she hung the trousers over the back of a chair.
His excitement was barely controlled now. Wearing only his white, very brief briefs, the kind he'd found handy for quick clandestine loving, he sat with his legs close together, his eyes intense. Her long, tan legs were certainly not together, and she stood with her hands on her hips, her tongue moving around the left corner of her mouth.
"You might as well be naked," he said, his voice close to breaking. This little visit was turning out even more interesting than he'd hoped.
She looked at herself, her breasts lifting as she inhaled.
"I suppose I might as well, at that. Would you be embarrassed?"
"Why should I be? Aren't we friends?"
She gave him an impish look and started drawing up her nightie.
She turned slightly as she did so, twisting, standing on one foot then the other, swaying her back and her hips. She was very much on display, and he'd seldom seen a display so provocative. Her hips were unveiled and then her navel. He saw her bare back, then the bow-like bottom of a breast, and then her long, naked side. The nightie was drawn up farther, and her breasts came completely into view, lifting high, the plump, rosy-brown tips pointing at the ceiling.
The nightie was swept aside completely, and she stood before him naked.
But only for an instant. He'd hardly glimpsed her standing there, as nature had made her, when she rushed by his side and threw herself onto the bed. As he twisted to look at her, she flounced down on her stomach in the middle on the bed, then rolled over onto her back on the far side, her head on a pillow.
Her smile was languorous, her eyes sultry. She rubbed her bare legs slowly together and he saw a slight movement of her stomach muscles, a quivering of her soft breasts. And he could no longer keep his excitement from breaking out in full force. Feverish blood pounded in his veins with mounting force.
"You go take your shower if you want to," she said, her voice husky, almost a growl. "I'll wait for you here."
He didn't move.
"What's the matter?" she asked. Then she frowned slightly. "Why, you don't have all your clothes off yet!"
He moved up onto the bed beside her, leaning on one arm.
"I thought you were helping me," he said, his voice as husky as hers.
"So I was."
She shifted slightly on the bed and reached for his briefs, rolling them down. The instant he was free of them her fingers were on him, soothingly cool yet maddening, and her eyes widened.
"Why, George, honey!" And she told him what he had, her voice mildly shocked.
"I'm sorry, baby," he said, playing along, and he kicked off his briefs while her hand worked slowly on him.
"Did I make you like this, honey?"
"I'm afraid you did."
"I'll have to do something about that, won't I?"
"Got any ideas?"
"Lots of them. Do you know that I'm in something of the same condition, George?"
"Are you, now!"
"Yes." She took his hand and brought it to her. "Here."
Then suddenly they were grappling.
Legs locked and slid. Arms encircled, and hands swept. Fingers pulled and probed. Taut nipples were bit, breasts were flattened. Sensual whispers were passed back and forth.
Until he said, "Baby, I'm going to take you!"
And she giggled and said, "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a cold shower?"
"We'll have a shower together later. We'll have lots of showers, but we're going to have a lot of this too!"
"I only want to do what's best for you."
"What's best is you, baby."
"Are you sure I'm best, George? she said as she raised her knees. "I'm on fire, baby, I'm burning up!"
He lowered his chest and stomach against her body, and her legs hugged his ribs. He nuzzled and kissed the solid sweat-salted weights of her breasts, and his lips followed a lighter area over a globe to a tumid nipple. He moved the peak with his lips and pressed it in with his tongue.
She tried to lift her hips, pressing herself against him. "Fireman, what's keeping yow!"
"Fireman's on his way!"
He lifted his body a few inches and advanced over her, kissed the tops of her breasts, a shoulder, her neck. She reached and found him.
"Love me!" she said in a tight, strained voice as she panted. "Love me, take me."
He threw his strength against her.
She surrendered.
"Oh, lover!" she groaned as her flames embraced the fireman.
Then the fireman was racing through the flames and the flames leaped higher and still higher.
The fireman sizzled and burned and raced faster, faster.
Then George knew that the end of the conflagration was approaching for both him and Daisy.
Lights began to explode, not the lights of their loving but other lights. Hazily he realized that he and Daisy were no longer alone in the bedroom.
But he couldn't stop, and neither could she.
The big moment arrived for him.
Explosively, he flared and Daisy wailed and joined him.
Straining, throbbing, they rode out the ecstatic moment.
When at last they settled down on the bed again, still tightly joined together, the lights were still flashing, and neither did a thing to stop them.
George knew, they both knew, that their game of business mixed with the thrills of pleasure was over.
For good.