Chapter 4
Maria was still in her room when Jeff left for the office Monday morning. He backed his car out, glancing up at her window occasionally to see if she might be looking out. No such thing. Slowly, he drove down the well-kept street towards his office. It lay a block ahead.
The signboard to the left of the office building read, Indian Bow Retreats, Inc. The sign was almost as big as the low, one-storied building. There was nothing subtle about the Colonel's advertising. He believed in slugging people over the head with it. Underneath, in smaller letters, the words read, Happy homes for happy people. The Colonel was proud of the slogan.
It was quarter to eight when Jeff entered the office. Pete Austin was always early. The company's bookkeeper and treasurer, he was a vague little man, forever absorbed in his world of figures. Jeff's desk was in a rear corner, just in back of the salesman's section. Jeff's job was essentially an outside one. He rarely needed his desk.
Most of the salesmen's desks were empty. The Colonel had the same problem with his salesmen as he did with his family.
Jeff sat down at his desk, realizing that he had come in too early. He was too tense, too keyed up, to sit around and twiddle his thumbs. He drummed the desk top briefly, thinking of what he would do today, then got up and went out. He headed in the direction of the new houses, three blocks away.
He passed a carpenter and nodded. "Morning, Fred. Have you seen Hans?"
"He's over there," Fred said, pointing to a house three doors away. "He's packing his tools."
"He's what?"
Fred shrugged. "He's quitting."
The news was like a dash of cold water in Jeff's face. Hans Hustig was one of the best trim men in the business. He had been in the trade all his life and had worked for Jeff when Jeff had his own business. He was just snapping his tool chest shut when Jeff came up.
"Trouble, Hans?"
"Yah. I've had enough. I'm leaving."
"What's the trouble?"
"That young pup Arthur came by and told me I took six hours too long on the last house I trimmed. You know I don't work sloppy, Jeff. I do a good job on every house."
Jeff managed to keep his voice calm. "Unpack, Hans, and go back to work. I'll take care of that son-of-a-bitch. He's got no right poking his nose into my projects."
"You sure it's all right, Jeff?"
"You damned right it is, Hans. As long as I'm around, you stay on the job."
Jeff wheeled and started down the fresh new sidewalk. He planned to stomp back to the office and have it out with Arthur, but two quick beeps of a car horn made him stop. He looked to his left and saw Sue waving to him from the front window of the car.
"Hi, Jeff," she called out cheerily.
"Sue!" he almost yelled. "What on earth are you doing out here?" He walked to the driver's side of the car.
"Oh, I had nothing to do so I thought I'd come out and look at some of the houses. Arthur's been telling me how nice they are."
"Yeah, they're turning out pretty nice. Maybe a little more gingerbread than I like but that's what gets the women, and they're the ones who do the buying."
"Will you show me?"
"Sure. Glad to." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you the half-hour tour."
Sue drove him to the far end of the project where some of the finished houses were nestled under huge oak trees. She pulled the car into the open door of the garage. "May as well test it out to see if you've built it big enough for a car," she laughed.
Inside, Jeff went through the motions of showing Sue every feature of the new homes, but somehow, he felt he was wasting words. They seemed to have a hollow, meaningless ring to them. Sue was paying more attention to him than she was at what he was showing her. Occasionally, her hip would bump against his, and once, when he turned to point out something, she managed to have her breast in the way of his elbow.
Then, when he went into the bathroom to show her the new type shower stall being installed, she blocked the doorway when he tried to get out.
"Oh, Jeff," she said, falling into his arms.
"It's so good to talk to you and be with you ... alone."
Jeff held her close for a moment, then moved her back a little and kissed her cheek. Her body felt warm and supple against him and in that split second a feeling of deep, repressed longing swept through him. Now he realized that he had thought about this moment before.
She clung to him, longer than he thought she would, her arms entwined around his neck. "Oh, Jeff, Jeff."
"Hey," he said finally, taking her arms away but still holding her shoulders. "What's all this about?"
"I had to see you, Jeff. It's tearing me up."
Sue was a big-breasted woman and no matter what she wore, that part of her anatomy was always the most prominent feature of her tall, angular body. Dark hair, dark complexion, dark, sensuous eyes. Even now, he could see the cleft where her breasts came together to form a shadowy line just above her pale pink blouse. The blouse was tied around her waist, leaving her midriff bare.
"What do you mean?" he asked at last.
She responded by opening her mouth slightly and pressing it onto his lips.
For several moments, they were lost in each other's arms, Sue breathing hard, Jeff trying to get himself loose.
"Jeff," Sue gasped. "Let's talk about us."
"What do you want to talk about?"
"I don't care, Jeff. I don't care," she murmured. "I've wanted you so ... Don't spoil it now. Oh, please, don't ... "
"This is crazy," he said. "There are workers all over the place. Arthur may come along ... the Colonel. We could get into real trouble."
"I don't care, Jeff. I've waited too long."
"Don't talk that way, Sue," he said. "It isn't like you."
"Yes, it is like me. You don't even know the real me," she said firmly. Then she came toward him in a movement so fast he did not have time to stop her. She grabbed him around the back of the neck and kissed him soundly. "There, that's the real me. That's how I feel about you."
He made no move to release her. Instead, he snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against him. He looked into the depths of her eyes. The message was there, like it had been before.
"Sue," was all he said.
Her head tilted back, her eyes closed, and her lips waited for his. The pressure where their hips met increased.
She opened her mouth to say something. He closed it with a kiss, as fiery as before. She responded passionately, clutching him wildly in an almost brutal embrace. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat, then moved down to the cleft between her breasts. He kissed the soft crevice, then ran his tongue up and down in it. His hand moved to the tie on her blouse, unknotted it, then ran his hand up her bare back.
"OOOHHH, JEFF ... "
His hand went immediately to one of her large, firm breasts. He had looked at them so many times before and now they were his to fondle, to play with. She moaned slightly, their lips still glued together.
The loose blouse fell away mysteriously and Jeff wondered about it and how she would explain such an occurrence if someone walked in. But she was not worried. Her arm snaked behind her and undid her bra. He kept his hand on the breast until he felt the confining garment loosen, then he slipped his hand under it and felt the silken, warm flesh. His fingers went immediately to the nipple, found it already hard and erect. He ran his index finger around it, then around the aureole, the brownish halo that surrounded the small amount of excitement.
"Ooh, that tickles," she said, giggling lightly. "But don't stop. Oh, I've waited so long ... so terribly long ... "
"This is crazy. You know that, don't you?"
"No. I don't know anything. Oh, Jeff ... love me ... please. Don't stop loving me for a long time. I need you so bad." Her entire body quivered from the sheer ecstasy of the moment. She clutched him to her, crushed her lips against his, her tongue probing into his mouth in an urgent, frantic searching.
Her arm had been around his neck, but now she dropped it to her side and Jeff could feel the slight muscular movement that told him she was unbuttoning the top of her shorts, then the almost imperceptible movement when she slid the zipper down.
They edged into the bathroom and slowly sunk to the cold, tile floor.
He was sitting beside her, but leaning over her so that their upper torsos were pressed together. Her hand virtually flew to his pants and searched the area where his erect rod was stabbing against the material. She grasped the hot, hard chunk of flesh. A muffled groan escaped from her. Then she dug for his belt buckle, the top button of his pants, and finally, the zipper. Her hand plunged inside and clutched at the rock hard cock and drew it toward her.
"OOOOHHHH, JEFF ... JEFF ... I WANT THAT SO BAD!" She tugged on the throbbing cannon, then squeezed it in a fierce grip.
In a quick movement, Jeff lifted her hips and slid the shorts and panties off, both at the same time. He left the garments dangle around her ankles and she wriggled free of them, giving a final kick to send them flying into the shower stall. Then she relaxed and spread her legs wide. "Come on, darling ... I want to be fucked!"
Jeff wanted to pull off his pants, but now the situation was more precarious; it was time for Arthur and the Colonel to come to work. A few extra minutes might deny him the pleasure she promised him. He pushed his pants and shorts down over his hips, then got between her legs. Her hand was still tugging at his rigid staff, pointing the tip into the hairy nest that felt warm and moist. He thrust his hips toward her slowly, felt the heat of her box engulf him, little by little, accompanied by her slow writhing and soft moaning. Then he was into her as far as he could go. Pubic pad against pubic pad. He lay still, only twitching the tip of his cock deep inside her.
"Ooohhh ... you don't know how good that feels," she whispered hoarsely. "Oh, how I've wanted you this way ... "
"And I think I've wanted you like this, too," he whispered into her ear, then kissed it tenderly. "You're so soft and warm inside."
Then he began the slow movements of love, the inner probing to excite and stimulate, to arouse the passions even more. Slowly, he slid in and out of her, forcing her to come up to him, then plunging back into her, into the depths of warm, love-wetted passion where the greatest emotion of all made lovers love even more intensely than they believed possible. The tempo picked up. The warmth turned into heat, the soft murmuring and groaning to urgent gruntings and frantic, subdued groans that could have signified pain as well.
And then, in their crashing, blinding world where only they resided at this moment, the ultimate of passion thundered forth, bringing with it the flash of searing lightning that charged all the motor neurons in their nervous systems and spilled them into their united groins.
The flood of torrid liquid gushed into her, spasm after spasm bonding them together even more closely.
For what seemed an eternity, they lay locked together, their bodies spent, their open mouths gasping for life-giving air, recharging. The dynamos roared within each of them, building the electrical current that would soon torment them into yet another flight into the heaven that was sex.
He moved his hips back a little, felt her hands tighten on his ass. "Not yet," she whispered. "Once more ... "
"Good God, Sue, we've got to get out of here," he protested.
"Once more."
The movement of her hips was a study in a sort of prone adagio dance, moving gracefully at first, then rising to a twisting, grinding motion that made him cling to her, almost helpless. Then in a moment of flaming ecstasy, their bodies became as one, each movement anticipated by the other and responding like an efficient machine, a flaming rocket which soared higher and higher in an almost unending passion and whirling dizziness-and then the explosion, the jettison of the fiery liquid that seemed to have lost none of its intensity.
Sue whimpered, repressing a scream. She dug at his ass. Her body stiffened, held him in a vice-like grip, then she fell away from him like a deck of cards crumbling.
They lay motionless for some time on the bare tile of the floor, neither saying a word. Sue rose finally, pushing at Jeff's chest to get his spent body off her, and got dressed. Jeff groaned and got to his feet, staggering slightly as his weakened knees almost quit. He pulled up his pants and fastened them.
Reality came back to Jeff in a rush. He went to the sink and dashed water on his flushed face, raked his fingers through his slightly mussed hair. Behind him, Sue was getting her clothing back in order.
"You know, that was damned foolish of us," Jeff said, turning to face her.
"But good," she smiled.
He smiled wryly. "I could almost feel the cold barrel of a shotgun up my butt all the while we were down there."
She returned his smile. "Maybe you didn't know it, but I locked the door behind us when we came in."
"Oh, great. Had someone tried the door, that would have been a dead giveaway, especially with your car in the garage."
"It's not my car," she said softly. "I borrowed it from a friend and ... "
"Then you planned this ahead of time."
She nodded. "I had to. You never seemed to want to make a move yourself." She looked at him with a little girl look in her eyes. "Are you angry with me?"
"Of course not Sue, but we took an awful chance. I'm not the adventurous type when it comes to something like this."
"That's what makes it fun," she giggled. "Ready?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
Jeff did not get in the car with Sue, but walked around the project, as though on an inspection tour. Then he ambled back to the office. He had needed that much time to get his emotions calmed down. He went to the office angry; the thought of Hans Hustig's almost quitting causing the anger. The depth of his anger showed in the length of his stride. He stopped at Austin's desk. "Did Arthur come in yet?"
Austin shook his head. "Not yet. But the Colonel's in. He doesn't look too happy."
"That's normal," Jeff said. He crossed over to the old man's office, opened the door without bothering to knock, which was one of the Colonel's rules. The Colonel sat stiffly erect at his desk. "Yes?"
"Arthur's been jumping my men again. I just now had to talk Hans out of quitting."
The Colonel reached for a sheet of paper. "Did you see this cost report?"
Jeff drew a deep breath. "You promised me when I started here, Colonel, that I would have the run of all the outside work, that Arthur's job would be the figuring and ordering."
"You never expected criticism?"
"If I earn it," Jeff snapped. "We almost let the best trim man in the business get away from us."
"If you would study these figures ... "
Jeff's face set stubbornly. "I don't need to study them. I know what Hans Hustig does. Hell's bells, anybody can put a piece of the picture under a glass and prove that part of it is right or wrong. But you can't judge the whole picture that way, Colonel."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that if Hustig does take a few more hours on each house, and I'm not convinced that he does, his work more than makes up for it in other ways. How many hours do the painters save by not having to putty a bad-fitting joint?"
The Colonel looked at his sheet of paper. "That's not on here."
"And there's no way to get in on there. I don't care how many figures Arthur turns in. Just keep him away from my crews. Don't you think I know when they're not producing?"
"Is that an ultimatum, Jeff?"
"Take it any way you want to." He turned toward the door.
"Jeff, just a minute. Don't you think I know what's going on?"
"You probably do, but sometimes you blind yourself to certain facts."
"All I wanted to do was talk about this report. I know anyone can take figures and make them prove what they want. I want you to show Arthur where he goes wrong in his figuring. If we're going to get a true picture, we must be able to look beyond a narrow segment."
Jeff had said the same thing in different words. He was aware that he had received an unexpected vote of approval from the old man. He said slowly, "Arthur has never listened to me yet, Colonel. He won't listen, either."
"You two just don't hee-haw, do you?"
"Nope ... never have."
The Colonel shrugged, and said suddenly, "I want you to do something for me. Copeland overcharged us a couple hundred dollars on his last bill. I've sent Arthur after it twice, and all he brings back are excuses. I want you to get it."
Jeff hesitated. How did you face a man after you had had his wife sprawled out on a garden bench with no clothes on? He was aware that the Colonel was studying him. Then he thought of what he and Sue had just engaged in and he shuddered inside himself. For an instant he wondered whether his thoughts showed on his face.
He nodded. "I'll get it."
He stepped back into the outer office to find Arthur at his desk. Arthur was a tall, fleshy, broad-shouldered man. He had a firm, jutting jaw and a thin, petulant mouth. One feature indicated strength, the other weakness. His eyes darted about nervously most of the time.
At the sound of Jeff's footsteps, Arthur looked up. His face darkened.
Jeff had to fight a momentary inner battle before speaking. The thought of his bathroom sex meeting with Sue was strong in his mind as he stood in front of Arthur's desk. He took a breath to dispel his nervousness. "Stay away from my men. If you've got a beef, tell it to me." Temper flowed in Arthur's eyes. Jeff went on. "And you can confirm that with the Colonel." He moved away before Arthur could reply.
He drove to Copeland's office, the Copeland Lumber Company. It was a sprawling establishment, covering a square block.
Jeff went in, had a brief conversation with Grant Copeland, during which the latter invited Jeff to another of his parties.
"Do they all wind up with everyone ... ah, changing around?" Jeff asked.
"Usually," Copeland smirked. "Be surprised how you can loosen up the old sex that way."
"Do you, ah, have to bring your own wife?"
"Ah, so that's it!" Grant Copeland beamed. "You'd like to come but you don't think much of letting the little woman in on the fun, eh?"
"Well, I don't know if she'd go for that sort of thing, Grant. And if she did, I doubt whether ... oh let's just skip it."
Copeland looked at him and the look on his face seemed to be one of pity. "If you think you can talk her into it, I'd be glad to have you-both of you."
"You don't really give a shit about me, Grant, so let's quit kidding each other. You'd like to add my wife to your list of scalps. Right?"
"You put it crudely, Jeff. Let's just say it would be nice to have your wife at our next party."
"Thanks for the check, Grant." He turned and went out.