Chapter 8

HIS MALENESS GREW IN HER HAND....

As Jean left her father's apartment she saw Colleen drive up and park. Jean took her time walking toward her rental car. Colleen glided out, smoothed her frock over her hips and smiled at Jean.

"Still trying, honey?"

"Dad and I just had a little chat," Jean said, innocently

Colleen's eyes moved up and down Jean's figure in a way that, considering her recent experience with Donna, gave Jean food for thought. Was Colleen that way, too? Jean looked closely at the rather slim, rounded figure, the long legs, breasts not too large. Her shoulders were not exactly girlish, eithera bit wide. But then, physical proportions didn't have to indicate lesbianism....

"Having trouble buying men here in Troy?" Colleen asked, dryly.

"I'm doing all right, darling," Jean answered, cattily. "I haven't had to use my hand yet, anyway!"

Colleen glared. "I'm glad we understand each other, anyway!" Her voice changed, subtly. "You and I don't have to be enemies ... I'm sure Sam will see that you have enough money.""

"I'll try to be more cooperative,'" Jean said, remembering the incident of the previous night, when she had interrupted Sam's pleasure. "But don't be too sure of yourself...."

Colleen turned, shooting Jean a cold glance. "See you at the wedding, honey!"

Jean smiled. "Maybe, darling. Just maybe."

Colleen walked away, her hips swinging angrily. Jean climbed into her car, started the motor. Her smile remained. Before leaving her father's apartment, when Sam was out of the living room, she had opened her purse, found a little package she carried, and had sprinkled itching powder-finely cut human hair-all over the big sofa where Colleen had beeen sprawled, her thighs apart, panting out her climax that Sam hadn't been able to give her.

Jean hoped they would be playing around there again. A vision of Colleen scratching her rump brought a giggle from Jean's lips.

Maybe tonight I can cause more mischief, she thought.

Of course, she might be so pleasantly occupied with Carl Zeller, she wouldn't have time. She found herself still excited about going out with him. A real date. How different!

Colleen let Sam unzip her frock. After a few kisses, when she had first entered his apartment, he had become quite enthused. She almost hated the touch of his hands on her body. The old goat! Did he think because he hadn't made it the night before, that he could today?

Well, at this stage of the game, she had to be very cooperative! Let him try, at least.

He fumbled with the hem of her frock, his hand in on her thighs, rather clumsily, and she spread so he could feel more freely.

They were on the sofa where he had managed to finish the day before, after a straining, pumping session. He seemed to like this particular piece of furniture. She would have preferred the bed-but right now he was the boss.

He won't be for long, though, she thought, imitating her passion, as Sam's hand wandered up to her vee.

"You just make me shiver all over, honey!" she whispered, lifting her hips.

He trembled. His trousers were starting to bulge. She reached out and caressed his still-covered loins.

"You're so good to me, darling!" he breathed. "I like those thin panties you wear."

"They're for you, honey," she purred, wincing inside. She opened his trousers. He was like a little boy, with the prospect of having a candy bar. She hoped she could satisfy him with a minimum of playing around, letting him feel her body for a while.

She shrugged her frock from her shoulders, exposing her bra. She had found that he liked black, lacy undies, so of course she had worn them today. She had to nail him down before Jean could cause any real trouble.

There was a suspicion in her mind about the cat fight outside her bedroom window; the timing had been too close. She was glad, naturally, that Sam hadn't been able to finish, but the notion that Jean might have lurked out in the darkness, creating a disturbance, made Colleen furious.

I'll fix her yet, she thought, as Sam's hand grew bolder. Once we're married, I'll try to cheat her out of all the money I can.

"Let me undress, honey," Colleen said, knowing now that Sam wanted to try to finish what he hadn't been able to the night before. He was growing rigid.

It was the price she had to pay. Maybe she could slip away for the evening and go into Missoula. Sally Bell would give her what she needed.

She left the sofa and stood in from of Sam while she lifted her frock over her head. Her half-slip was thin, smoky nylon. Sam's eyes seemed to glaze with his desire. He began to undress. He did it rather bashfully. His hands shook.

When he was naked, she sank down beside him, wearing only her bra and panties. His withered arms and legs gave her a feeling of revulsion.

"You're so big and strong, honey," she lied, patting his legs, pouring on the charm, leaning close so he could sniff her perfume and stare at her figure. She weaved her bottom on the sofa, arching her breasts forward.

Sam squirmed, breathing faster, and she imitated more passion by doing the same. She cozied his manhood, keeping her eyes away from his loins, trying to think of Sally. The vision wouldn't come. Sam's strong 'mannish' cologne almost made her cringe.

I can put up with a lot for a couple of million, she thought.

"Like me to kiss you-down there, honey?" she whispered, in her best intimate tones. Maybe she could work him up to the point where the straining and thrusting would be minimized.

He trembled. "Damn!" he said, very excited. "Would you, darling?"

"Anything for my lover man," she cooed.

As she leaned her head down, she felt an itchiness on her bottom. Strange. She had showered only an hour or so earlier, at her apartment. At the same time she noticed Sam's right hand leave her thighs and aim for his own big behind. His maleness, in her hand, grew less rigid.

She couldn't help wiggling as the need to scratch her bottom became almost overwhelming. What in the devil was going on? She just had to scratch her rump! What an unlady-like thing to do!

She scratched herself. Sam was doing the same. A curse came from his lips as his arousal faded.

Her whole hind end burned, and not with passion.

"Damn it! Sam growled. "My rump's bothering me...."

Colleen hated to admit it, but she could see another failure for Sam. She rubbed her bottom again, and the stinging merely increased.

Sam struggled to his feet, his face red with anger. "Somebody's played a, trick on us!" he growled.

"I'm afraid so," she answered, rising. The itchy sensations made her reach around once more. Her panties were clean, it couldn't be some chemical in the thin nylon. Sam was really rubbing and scraping his rump.

"Somebody put itching powder on the sofa!" Sam said, darkly. "I'll fire that housekeeper!'"

Colleen knew, then. Jean! She had been here, earlier. Colleen had heard about Jean's pranks; Sam had mentioned that his daughter loved practical jokes. Jean had guessed, from previous experience, that Colleen and Sam would be cavorting around on the big sofa, as they had before, and the sly, big-bottomed girl had got her licks in again.

There was an element of the comic now in the way Sam was digging at his seat. But it wasn't funny the way her own rump burned and itched.

Damn her, Colleen thought. II she could see us now she'd laugh her head off!

She knew better than to lay the blame on Sam's daughter. He was quite fond of Jean.

Anyway, I didn't have to work on him, she thought. Getting him off is quite a disgusting chore.

She had to be careful, though. Sam might even start thinking she, Colleen, had put the itching powder on the sofa. She had never seen him so enraged. His manliness had been found wanting again.

"Honey, we'll take a shower and try to enjoy ourselves later," she said, soothingly.

He nodded, still mad. He picked up his clothes and walked toward the bathroom.