Chapter 5
Jeff returned to the office and gave the check from Copeland to Austin, who seemed quite surprised. He knew that Arthur had tried to get the money and had failed.
"How'd you manage this?" Austin asked, waving the check.
"My dynamic personality," Jeff laughed.
"Oh, the Colonel wants to see you."
Jeff walked into the Colonel's office, again without bothering to knock.
The Colonel greeted him with a stiff nod. "I understand you got Copeland's check. How'd you do it?"
"I just asked for it."
"With a little muscle thrown in?"
Jeff shook his head.
"He's hot under the collar about the lumber estimate on the new south addition. I thought Arthur had given that to him a week ago. Copeland says he can't put in his order without it. See if you can figure it out so he can have it in the morning. I'll call Maria and explain to her why you won't be home."
"I'll call her," Jeff said. "Are the plans and specs in Arthur's office?"
"Yes. He had to go out for the afternoon, so I'd appreciate if you took care of it, Jeff."
"I'll get to work on it right away."
The Colonel rose. "I've got to go. See you in the morning."
Jeff sensed something in the Colonel's attitude that was changed. His tone did not have the bite it usually did and it was unthinkable to admit that his own son, Arthur, had failed in something.
Jeff called Maria and explained why he had to work late and that she should not wait up for him. He went to Arthur's desk and proceeded to go through it. Each drawer was a jumble. In the last drawer, Jeff came upon a glossy photograph of a nude blonde.
He picked it up. The blonde was stretched out in a standard pose. With a self-conscious grin, Jeff put the photo back. He was surprised that Arthur went in for that sort of thing. He found a half-dozen more pictures of nude women in the right-hand drawer. Jeff gave fleeting speculation to the possibility that Sue might also be interested in the pictures. But that would be a dirty trick, he reasoned. He discovered the plans in the last drawer. Carrying the thick packet to his desk, he got to work on them. He spotted something wrong at once in the specifications. Arthur's lumber requisitions called for a house with a two-car garage. But the Colonel had not built a house with a two-car garage in six months. He had discarded the additional garage space as an unnecessary expense. The price of the house, however, had remained the same.
He frowned. How could Arthur be so careless, Jeff wondered. A thought suddenly struck him. According to these figures, there should be quite a stock pile of the extra lumber ordered by Arthur. But there was no such stock pile. Of that Jeff was positive because he was on the building sites every day.
The phone rang. Jeff picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Arthur?" It was a woman's voice.
"No," Jeff said. "Arthur isn't here. Is this Sue?"
There was a momentary silence, then a click.
Jeff shrugged. He got up and went to Austin's files. He wanted the invoices on lumber for the last six houses. He found what he was after. A study of the invoices showed that lumber had been ordered for double garages on each of the last six houses. Ordered and paid for. Tapping his pencil on his teeth, Jeff reflected on the records. There was no doubt in his mind that Arthur was pulling a swindle on his own father. Grant Copeland had to be in on the deal, too. The two probably split the money between them. The amount of lumber left over from one house was not much, but with the number of houses the Colonel was putting up, it could run into a pretty good figure at the end of a year. The Colonel would probably throw Arthur out on his ass if he ever found out. Should the Colonel be told? If it were only a question of his brother-in-law, Jeff would not have hesitated. But what about Sue and little Steve? It would hurt them more than it would Arthur.
Jeff put away Austin's invoices. He turned out the lights and left the office.
A low, long sleek sedan was parked next to his car.
"Jeff," a female voice called out.
Peggy Copeland sat at the wheel of the huge sedan. She flashed an enticing smile at him.
"Why, hello there," Jeff replied.
She swung open the door.
"Hop in," she said. "Let me show you how this thing rides." She leaned across the seat and unlatched the door.
He got in beside her. Her dress was hiked several inches above her knees. He found himself acutely aware of her legs.
"Stop looking so hard," she said with a laugh. "You've seen them before."
"Yeah, that's why I'm looking," he grinned. "I can't get them out of my mind."
"Flatterer."
"What are you doing here?" he asked. Then he quickly recalled the phone call and the quick hang up. "Did you think Arthur was working late tonight?" He paused for a moment, studied her. There was a small grin on her face. "You called a little while ago, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Why did you hang up?"
"Female instinct, I guess," she said slowly. "The wrong person answered, so I hung up."
"Do you and Arthur have a thing going?"
She looked down at her hands. "Oh, a little," she said. "Are you jealous?"
"Of that clown?" Jeff snorted. "He's a first class jerk in my book. And a swindler. He's the kind of guy who will take anybody he can."
"That's right," she agreed. "Including his own father."
His voice sharpened. "What do you know about that?"
"He's been bragging about it for months. He thinks nobody will ever be smart enough to find out about it. It's a big joke between him and Grant. How did you happen to find out?"
"Simple. I had to go over some figures and there it was. For a crook, he's kind of a dummy."
"Are you going to tell his father?"
"I'd sure as hell like to. Oh, man, how I'd like to!"
"So? Why don't you?"
He looked at her for a moment before answering. "There are other people involved. They'd get hurt right along with him."
"You mean his wife and son?"
"Right. Anyway, I'm going to break up his little game. I think I've figured out a way to stop him."
"Yes, and they may figure out a way to stop you," she said wryly. "If I was you I'd go to the old man immediately."
He shook his head. "No, not yet. I've got the cards and I've got to play them right."
"I still think you're taking a chance." She looked at him carefully. There was a worried look on her face. He noticed her look of concern, then put his hand on her knee.
"I was wondering about something else. You're asking me to go to the old man and tell him everything. What about Grant? He's going to get splattered with the same dirt that hits Arthur."
"I figure Grant is such a big deal, he'll just have to untangle himself. He thinks nothing can touch him, but something like this could hurt him. There are a lot of contractors who are honest people who would dump him real fast if they found out he wasn't on the up and up."
"I asked you before-where are we going?"
They were nearing the outskirts of the city. Her big car ate up the miles effortlessly.
"Don't you have any ideas?" she asked softly.
He pressed his fingers into the soft flesh of her leg. "Anywhere but on a hard wooden bench," he laughed. "Christ, my knees are still sore from that thing."
A tremor ran through her. Just his touch was enough to inflame her. Sex was a raw and primitive need with her. But he brought her something she had not known for many years.
The miles fell behind them. She eventually turned onto a country road that was little more than a lane. Pulling off to one side, she shut off the motor.
She faced him. "Jeff," she murmured.
He swept her into his arms, turning her so that she was cradled across his chest. He kissed her gently. He felt the response in her lips. Neither of them would be able to blame this night on anything but a deep, burning passion for sex.
Her hands were like delicate butterfly wings, fluttering over his neck and his shoulders, igniting the flesh, then coursing down to his stomach and, finally, his legs. He jerked back instinctively, then relaxed. His wife never touched him this way. She laughed at his sudden movement.
"You're a little jumpy," she said. "I'll have to calm you down."
"I'm all for that," he murmured. He meant it. Nothing was on his mind now but his awareness of her. Her busy fingers, fondling intimately, gave him no opportunity to think of anything else. She was unique among women in that she wanted no buildup, no preliminaries. And when he was with her, he felt the same way. Maybe it was his hunger for sex, the fact that he was doing something illicit, or maybe it was just because she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Her fingers had found his throbbing cock and she squeezed it harshly, almost desperately. Her fingers edged up to his zipper and, in a moment, she was inside his pants, her fingers coiled tightly around the hot staff.
"Let's get in the back," she whispered.
He helped her into the rear seat, then scrambled in after her. The back was luxuriant and spacious.
She pulled down the zipper of her dress with unnecessary violence. It made a savage, ripping sound. She wore no slip under her dress and he reached hungrily for the exposed flesh. She pushed aside his hand impatiently, then lifted herself and pulled the dress from beneath her hips. Her arms went over her head and the dress came off.
She had undressed with a sort of raging impatience. He reached to unhook her bra but she already had it off. He heard the silken rustle of her silk panties as she slipped out of them.
He had never seen her nude in full light. It was a lack he regretted. He buried his face between her full breasts and heard the moaning begin in her throat. Her fingers were charged with a terrible, powerful energy-a hunger-that sometimes made him wince with pain. He felt fiery stings on his shoulders and back. She gave as fiercely as she received. They were like two writhing serpents, each trying to destroy the other.
"Let me ... let me ... get out of these clothes," he gasped.
Eagerly, she opened the buttons of his shirt, tugged the garment from his pants, while he struggled to undo his belt. Within moments, he sat nude beside her and the frenzied ritual began once again.
He found one of her breasts with his lips, felt the hard little knob that was her nipple and ran it through slightly parted and moistened lips. His tongue flicked at it, made little circular motions around it. Then he opened his mouth wide and plunged as much of the luscious tit in as he could, holding it with both hands. He sucked hungrily, plunging the cone-shaped flesh in and out of his mouth-and licking vigorously at the hippie and aureole.
Her hands were busily racing over his body, finding one spot that pleased her momentarily, then abandoning it to go on to another. Her fingers gripped his rigid prick, stroked the skin sheath, then went below to fondle his balls and roll them gently in her fingers like delicate eggs.
Now the quivering shots of fire seared up along his flesh, down across his entire body like a raging inner flame. Answering flame, volcanic flame, erupted deep with her loins.
Slowly, almost unnoticeably, Peggy slid her churning body down on the seat, until she was almost full length, her body moving insinuatingly beneath his, her hands holding each titty now, offering them to his restless lips. In sliding, she had moved her hips to a point near his chest. Seeing the opulent curve of her calf, the suggestive wickedness of her hip movements up against his chest, he felt himself shudder. There was once again the strong aroma of sex flooding into his nostrils and he lost himself in the heady scent.
Lingeringly, he rose from Peggy's ample bosom and trailed his lips under each luscious globe, then down her stomach. For a moment, he licked the smooth skin, surveying the beautiful, compliant woman lying before him, drinking in the lovely, slowly convulsing torso. Then gently, slowly, he slid his hands along her body and down onto her legs.
Peggy emitted an involuntary moan of pleasure as he arranged her on the seat, pulling one leg on each side of him. She lay in docile surrender, her stomach rising and falling in swift rhythm. Jeff, himself throbbing with excitement, watched for a moment, until her buttocks writhed slightly on the seat. Then he moved to her again, agonized anticipation making his stomach a steel hard knot.
Deftly, his hands moving gracefully, surely, he stroked the sheer length of her legs, going from her breasts to the bare expanse of thigh, kissing her delicately, arousing her to an incredible degree. She whimpered as his lips slid along her legs, grazing lightly across the mound above her pussy and down onto the tender inner flesh of her thigh. His tongue was like a probing flame, igniting the passion in her body wherever it touched.
A sudden urge came over him, and he plunged his head between her legs and held the warm, hairy nest against his face. He kissed the moist cunt hair, matching his lips with the lips of her pussy, kissing it like he would another pair of lips.
And in her ecstasy, Peggy's legs moved apart automatically, a slow movement signifying full acceptance of what he was doing to her.
"Ummm, you sweet, wonderful pussy," he murmured softly. He kissed her cunt with a long, clinging kiss as he pulled the cheeks of her ass. "The dear, sweet flesh of a true woman," he said softly. "My woman ... my pussy ... "
She groaned with contentment, reached a hand down, and patted him lightly on the head.
Jeff was throbbing, both from his own physical desire for Peggy's pussy and also from the thought that he could take all the liberties with it he wanted, something he had never been able to do with Maria's precious hunk of womanhood. It was like a dream to him. He could smell his dream. Her pungent fragrance seemed to fill the car. It was between the well-rounded thighs that he held in his arms, and it reached into his nostrils to stir his passion for her even more. He closed his eyes. He savored the sweet smell of her pussy. He kissed it again, opening the lips slightly with his tongue, then putting his own lips into hers so that her juices were on him, clinging to his moist lips like dew drops of desire. The fragrant odor of her cunt seemed to envelope him, and he felt a strange desire to return to the womb, to enter completely into this exciting hole where all life began.
Then he wondered, fleetingly, about that strange compulsion. Because he had passed through the moist, slippery passages of a vagina, was there a natural desire for him-or anyone-to return there? Was that why this almost uncontrollable urge to put his face next to Peggy's pussy possessed him? He had suckled on his mother's breasts, his lips had tasted her, his tongue had curled around the life-giving nipples. The natural desire to express love was to taste, to kiss and to lick-to put his mouth on the object of his desire.
He mashed his lips against the warm moistness again. Then, with a sliding motion, he went to his knees on the floor of the car and pulled her legs toward him, moving them far apart so he could get between them. But he did not plunge his face into the steaming slit as she had expected.
"Open your cunt," he hissed. "Open it with your fingers."
She slid her hands down to her pussy and pulled the lips apart. Her hips were already moving up and down slightly, waiting for the probing dart of his tongue that she knew was coming soon.
He moved closer. His breath was hot on her. He did not touch her, but only stuck out his tongue and tasted of the soft inner membranes of her cunt lightly, flicking his tongue rapidly.
Her hand went to the back of his head, but he quickly took it away and put it back into her pussy. "Hold it open," he commanded. He moved slowly forward. Now his tongue sank into her, moving backing and forth in a steady rhythm that made her buck slightly. He stretched into her, held it for a moment, flicked the tip of his tongue, and then withdrew. The wet lips of her cunt lay alongside his face, and he moved from side to side so that most of his face was wet with her juices and his own saliva.
Then she ran her index fingers into his mouth, coiling them under his upper teeth, and pulled him into her. Her hips moved upward to allow room for both her hands and his face in her crotch. Her thumbs were on his wet cheeks, and she worked his face into her with the same tempo of her hips.
He flattened his tongue and lapped at the slippery opening. One hand went under her ass, and then crept slowly down the crack to her asshole. He fingered the tightened anal bud gingerly. He moved his finger to his mouth and took spit from it to moisten the tightly-drawn rosebud. With a careful motion so that his nail would not hurt her, he applied the spit to the hole and slid one finger in.
"Oooohhh," she gurgled. She flung her legs farther back so that her cunt and asshole were thrust toward him.
His tongue now took in the crack of her ass as well as her cunt, and he slipped lower and lower until he touched her asshole with his tongue. He opened it slightly with his finger, then slid his tongue into it. With quick, urgent motions, he shot his tongue in and out of her. He took hold of both cheeks of her ass and pulled her toward him, then thrust her away, so that it was as though she was fucking his face in the same way she would fuck his prick. She had put her hands on the back of his head to get the full feel of his motions.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes ... lover man," she moaned. "Fuck that nice little asshole with your tongue, your nice warm tongue. And fuck my pussy, too. Fuck it with your hungry tongue ... " Her words were hissing out of her mouth, sometimes incoherent, sometimes demanding, ordering, pleading.
He was licking between her legs with long, hungry strokes that went from her asshole to the top of her twat. His tongue was flat and wet, his eyes were closed, and his chin was dipping into the juices that collected in the crack of her ass and virtually poured from her box.
A tremor passed through her body and spread all through her, so that she squirmed and writhed in agonized pleasure.
Quickly, he moved to the hot, moist slit, searched for the clitoris, and found it. He licked the little knob vigorously and felt her hips churn up and down, her legs writhing and churning, too.
She let out a groan and sent her hips ramming up and forward. Her hands clutched at his hair, tearing at it, then holding it tightly until he thought she was going to tear it out. Then all motion stopped. Both of them hung in mid-air. The pleasure of pain and ecstasy darted through her, and he licked her lightly, heard her moan with mixed torment and delight.
When her body spasms ceased, he held his face on her pussy for some time. Then he pulled away from her, took one leg and lifted it over his head, and turned her so that he could get between her legs.
He carefully straddled her, then raised her legs. Now he hovered over her, his rapier stiff and hard, ready for the thrust that would join them in yet another expression of sex. He lowered himself slowly, pointing his pulsating prick at the dark nest just below. Her hands came up to him, to take the stiff prong of love, and pulled him to her. Her moistened lips were hot with anticipation as the plum-like head made its first contact, nudging its way into the velvety furnace.
Then her hands released him and locked behind his back. They were poised, like racers at the starting blocks, but there would be no spurt from the blocks. This start would be easy, deliberate, filled with words of love and mutterings that meant nothing except to the two involved. A querulous grunt, an affirmative moan-these were the words of ultimate love and passion between them.
In unutterable, incandescent bliss, they rode the streaming, boiling lava, the molten wave lifting them, locking them, in shuddering ecstasy that made their flesh scream and their very nerves palpitate insanely.
They lay back, still embraced, fighting for breath.
He lay beside her, completely drained. He should have been floating in a vacuum of release and satisfaction, but he was not. He heard her heavy, labored breathing. He did not regret the intensity of their lovemaking. That was the way it should be between a man and a woman. But there had to be an emotional follow-up to smooth over the rawness and restore the veneer.
He became acutely aware of his lacerated back and said dryly, "If I'm going to spend more time around you, I'll have to clip your claws."
She turned her face toward him. Her breathing had eased up. Her eyes were round and misty with satisfaction. She raised her face and softly kissed his cheek. He was glad the wildness was gone from her. He could not have taken any more of that driving intensity right now.
She pressed against him, but it was a seeking of him more than a wanting of him. It was a feeling he had not experienced during his entire married life. When he took himself from Maria, she was more than anxious to leap from the bed and cleanse herself. Afterwards? Well, afterwards she tried to remain as far away from him as possible, as though he was something dirty and undesirable. Come to think of it, he mused while he lay there with Peggy's body against his, Maria oftentimes felt that way before they made love.
The fact that someone wanted him made thrills run through him. Maria had done such a good job of denying him, rejecting him-before and after-that he had begun to build up a complex about his body. Maybe he was unattractive to her, maybe even repulsive. In his confused mental state during his marriage to Maria, he was not sure whether the fault lay with him or with her. What he had feared was not as terrible as he had imagined. His fear of the Colonel, of offending him. He had taken care of that in one brief outburst.
And now this woman, this Peggy Copeland, was bringing his manhood back to him. He felt rejoiced, warm. And his warmth was to this woman who had so simply made a man of him again.
In a fit of sudden passion, he turned and kissed her. "Peggy, I think you're wonderful!"
"It's unusual to hear someone say that after ... after it's all over," she said.
"And it's unusual for someone to stay snuggled up afterwards."
"I knew you had a problem, Jeff. I had an idea that's what it was when I got a look at your wife when she came in with the Colonel. I had only seen her a few times before that, but she never looked quite so ... so cold and aloof as she did that night. I would have enjoyed Grant taking her and working her over. It might have done her some good."
"And Grant would hate me for the rest of his life for bringing in such a dud," Jeff snorted.
"She's beautiful."
"She loses that beauty when I get in bed with her. Hell, if a man can't get decent nooky from his own wife ... "
He edged up so he lay beside her again. He stroked her cheek, running his fingertips over her lips, her nose, her eyelids. Gently, like a feather, he moved over her, relishing this moment when he felt wanted. But he felt pity for her. He knew that he could not be the haven she sought.
"At these parties you throw," he said, "there must be a lot of wild things going on. You know, plenty of sex of every description. How come you don't get enough then?"
She studied him for a few moments. "It's a little different then. That's just plain, raw sex-naked body to naked body-nothing else. What we had tonight is much nicer, more personal."
"I suppose there's a lot of ... unusual things taking place."
"By unusual, you mean what some people call abnormal? Yes, you name it and it happens."
"You mean what you did to me in your garden and what I did to you here tonight is common-between just anybody?"
"I said it was raw sex. A body in the dark is a body. That's all. Sometimes, if we don't talk, we don't even know who we've been with. Maybe it's better that way."
"You mean you do things like you did to me and you sometimes don't even know who the man is?" Jeff asked.
"Body to body, male or female, it makes no difference."
"You mean you might get tangled up with another woman?"
"Of course, darling. That's all part of the game. And sometimes that leaves one man to another and ... "
"What? You can't mean that men go down on each other just because, as you say, it's part of the game?" He seemed horrified.
"Darling," she said condescendingly, "you've just got to come to one of our parties. We'll break you in so you won't be so shocked at everything. Golly, I thought everybody knew about things like that. It's fun. I mean, really fun."
It was pleasant, she thought, lying here with his arms around her. Too pleasant, maybe. A shiver ran through her. He was the first man in many years who had been able to penetrate deep into her inner feelings. But he seemed so naive about sex. Well, she would take care of that. She needed men, but heaven help her from being tied to any single one. She had believed all these years that there could be physical contact between a man and woman without any ensuing emotional involvement. Her eyes suddenly felt hot and stinging. She closed them to keep the tears from spilling out. She wished he would say he had had a good time. It was nice. Now take me home. Casual. Just like it meant nothing more to him than fulfillment of sexual desire.
Jeff felt different. Exhilarated. He had found something with Peggy that he had never realized before. She had given him satisfaction and he hoped what he had done had pleased her as much. His infidelity did not bother him, either with Peggy or with Sue. Somehow, he felt, as long as he was sexually satisfied, everything was perfectly all right.