Chapter 1

It was one of those wretchedly hot, muggy days without clouds in the sky or shelter from the sun. It drained a man of his strength and good humor, leaving a waspish, miserable shell behind, and that was exactly what Gordon Hess felt like as he drove up the quiet residential street to his house. A shell. A broiled lobster shell, all the meat sweated out of him hours before, his eyes small and red and aching, his body stewing in his business suit as though it was a cauldron of boiling water. And worse, he knew that while the evening would be cool, he wouldn't be able to enjoy it with his wife and daughter, for he'd be in an airplane on his way to St. Louis for the next five days. Damn! He'd just got back from a convention, and here he was, having to hurriedly pack and leave again so that he could make sure nothing went wrong with the Conradin contract.

Gordon Hess was a tall, thin man, five years older than his thirty-seven-year-old wife, and some of his nut-brown hair was turning a nice, snowy silver around the temples. He was still handsome and carried himself with an ease and assurance and taste which had helped him in good stead as general sales manager for Hammett Bowling and Amusement Company, but there were times when he'd have liked to trade places with his brother, Roger. He'd have liked to trade him places tonight, for instance, because as general sales manager, Gordon was responsible to more than just a nine-to-five job; he had a career, and it demanded trips to places like St. Louis too much of the time, time which he would have preferred to spend with his family.

Dammit, he needed the eager arms and hot body of his lovely wife, her understanding and warmth and support, but here he was, going off instead of attending to his duties as husband to Marylyn and father to fifteen-year-old, Kathy. Grim-jawed, Gordon wrenched the wheel of his car and drove up the driveway of his home, stopping beside his brother's old Chevrolet. He glared at the other car, for it seemed to symbolize what his brother had and he didn't, and then he got out and slammed the door hard.

The garage was open and Roger, dressed in only a pair of old Army pants, was using the bench grinder in the corner. He saw Gordon, smiled, and then shut off the motor. Roger, younger by a couple of years, looked still younger, for his had been an outdoors life ever since he'd joined the Coast Guard after high school. Now out of the Guard, he'd been staying in the guest room at the Hess', looking for work in a lackadaisical sort of way. He didn't have the drive or business acumen of his brother but then he didn't have the pressures, either, and as Gordon looked wryly at him and waited, Gordon wondered who exactly was better off. Certainly he had more money and prestige than Roger, but Roger had youth and a simplicity to him that seemed to have been ground out of the older brother. Roger had never, nor probably would ever, amount to anything in terms of things-but there were other, more important riches in the one short life each of us have!

"Hi, Gordon," Roger said. The sun glinted off of his tanned, muscled chest, and his smile seemed to have that kind of sparkle to it one associates with toothpaste commercials. He ran his hand through his hair, which was longer and a deeper brown than Gordon's, none of it white yet, and cheerfully added: "It was too damned hot to walk the pavements today, so I didn't."

"No job, huh?" Gordon squinted in the sun, and his hand was clammy from holding his attach case. "Not even made a phone call?"

"Not a one. But don't worry, brother. I was at Frankie's around noon, and one of the fellows from the shipyard says they're looking for men there. Maybe I'll go down tomorrow morning and check it out."

Gordon nodded glumly. He'd heard that before from Roger. Frankie's was a neighborhood bar not far from the house, on the informal dividing line between the residential area and the commercial section which bordered Ross River. Roger frequented Frankie's, and often reported having found out about a supposed job from one of the other patrons, which somehow always miraculously disappeared when Roger finally got around to checking it out. Gordon would be awfully surprised if anything came out of this shipyard information, or any other tidbit Roger picked up there.

Still, for all of his apparent worthlessness, Roger would be the one here tonight, enjoying the comforts of his home and family, and Gordon would be the one floating all over the country. It was enough to make a man pause and re-figure his goals, Gordon thought sourly. He wrenched himself back to what Roger was saying, having been lost in his own thoughts ......."mowed the lawn and then went for a swim. Afraid that I drank all of your beer, but I'll pick up some more to replace it tomorrow."

"Forget it," Gordon said, waving his other hand. "Where's my brood?"

"Well, Kathy's out by the pool the last I saw of her, and Marylynn went in the house about the same time I got out. I've been in the garage ever since, filing down one of your screwdrivers. I broke the point when I was adjusting the mower."

"Uhhuh," Gordon said noncommittally. He hefted the attach case and trudged in the house. The front door faced the living room, which was deeply carpeted and filled with heavy, over-stuffed furniture upholstered in red and gold velvets, and richly waxed walnut cabinets and tables. The focal point of the room was the brick fireplace with a large sun-burst clock on its wall and built-in bookshelves beside it with a princely array of leather-bound classics. To Gordon's right was the kitchen and den, a small hallway connecting the main bathroom, guest room, and side entrance to the garage. On his left was a slightly longer hallway leading to Kathy's bedroom, the master bedroom at the end, and a connecting bath.

The drapes had been pulled to keep the living-room dark and cooler, and they made up the entire back wall; when they were open, the living-room looked out onto the flagstone terrace, lawn, and pool. The pool had been an extravagance, one he had had to put in after he'd bought the house, but it was one of those luxuries which was almost a necessity for the image he wanted to cultivate. Still, it had proved its own merit on hot days such as this, he ruefully admitted as he heard the sound of splashing coming from there. He put his attach case down in a chair and walked over to the drapes, pulling them aside slightly to gaze out.

His daughter was swimming in the clear, slightly blue water with a lithe grace as if a young panther had learned to enjoy being wet. Seeing her gave Gordon a pang of love and tenderness, for she was very similar to the way Marylynn had looked when they'd first met. Kathy's face had the same frame of wheat-straw blonde hair hanging loosely around her shoulders, the same deep color of eyes, the same full lips, and the same crescent of freckles across the bridge of her pert, bobbed nose. Her breasts were smaller than her mother's, more like pointed cones of carved ivory capped with hard, saucy nipples, but they were enough to strain her tiny bikini, just as her taut, firmly rounded young buttocks filled the triangular bottom of cloth.

She clambered up the ladder at the end of the pool, shaking herself to spray the water in all directions, and she saw her father. She smiled and waved, then ran with a burst of energy to the other end of the pool, climbing on the diving board. Gordon closed the curtains and started for the bedroom.

Marylynn Hess was naked when Gordon entered; she looked up from the dresser, a pair of panties in her hand, and look of surprise on her face. "Oh! Gordon, you startled me!"

"I'm sorry," he said, coming over to kiss her. When his arms were around her and her lush lips were against his, she clung to him. "Darling ... darling," she whispered, "I love you...."

"I love you, too." he replied, and then pulled away. "I ... don't have much time, I'm afraid," he said guiltily. "I have to leave in less than an hour."

"Leave?" She eyed him with growing apprehension. "Leave for where?"

"St. Louis." he replied, taking off his coat. "St. Louis?"

"Now, please, honey," he said, loosening off his tie. "It'll only be for a few days, and it can't be helped."

"Can't be helped!" Marylynn was trembling with dismay, her cheeks red and her eyes welling with tears. "It ... it never can be helped, can it? I bet you really fought hard not to go, and just after you got back from Dayton!"

"Marylynn, you know better than that," Gordon said. He stood up, having removed his shoes and unbuckled his pants. "I've just got time enough to shower and change, and pack a bag. Please don't make it any worse than it is."

"Don't go, Gordon, please don't go. Call up your boss and say you're sick or something and stay with me tonight. I want you, Gordon ... I need you, need you badly!" She couldn't go on, humiliation and hurt welling up and filling her throat. Damn, damn, damn! Gordon and his business, never having time to be a husband to her any more, and she ... well, she was little more than a pretty doll to have around to use when he wanted. She wasn't a wife, she was paid, part time whore to have sex with and nothing else. If she could only go with Gordon on his trips, but she couldn't-she had to stay home with Kathy and wait until he felt like returning. Damn!

With a moan, Gordon walked stiffly to the bathroom in his underpants. He felt terrible about having to do this, leaving his lovely wife ... but he had to, and there was no way out.

Marylynn wanted to cry with the overwhelming frustration inside her. She sat down on the bed and wondered what she was doing wrong. She was a wife any man would have been proud to have, and she'd tried to take good care of her beauty. Her breasts were still firm and taut, and she'd followed her doctor's regimen when Kathy had been born so that even now, no stretch marks marred her flat, smooth belly. She looked like Kathy's older sister more than her mother, kept a clean house and was a good hostess, but still business was more important to Gordon. She fought to control her tears as she heard the shower going, and her husband step into the tub and pull the curtain closed, and then she lay back on the bed, groaning with the misery she felt.

She hadn't lied about wanting and needing Gordon tonight; she did very much, for she enjoyed sex to the fullest, and had looked forward all day to being made love to by him this evening. She was primed and ready and if she was a whore for him, she liked her occupation. She looked down at herself, a warm flush spreading through her. Gordon, Gordon ... hurry in there, and maybe we'll have time ... I need you right now since I can't have you later ... I have to know you love and need me, too....

Then the shower ended, and after a few moments, Gordon came out, rubbing the drops of water away with a large bath towel.

"Gordon," Marylynn groaned, her voice provocative and husky, "Gordon ... don't get dressed. Come here to me." Impulsively, she stretched out on the bed, letting his eyes roam over her exposed thighs and breasts and legs. She raised one leg and let it part so he could see blonde curling pubic hair growing sparsely up between her thighs and her pink, slightly moist vaginal lips. "Please, Gordon, come here...."

"Marylynn," Gordon whispered hoarsely, struck by the lascivious sight of his wife tantalizingly smiling at him in her naked splendor. He glanced at the clock on the dresser and groaned at the time. "I can't," he said. "I ... that is, we'll make love when I get back, but not now."

The sight of his soft cock nestled against his balls incited her passion still more, and she patted the covers beside her. "Sit down, Gordon. Just for a moment, and that's all. You can spare a minute of your time for me, can't you?"

"Honey ... ." Gordon sat on the edge of the mattress as if he was giving himself running room, but he couldn't keep his eyes off Marylynn in spite of his certain knowledge that to delay now would cause him to miss his plane. "Honey, I'm sorry...."

"Darling, don't I please you any longer?" she asked plaintively. Her hand encircled his waist and slowly slid over his hips and thighs and into his loins. He gritted his teeth with the sensations of her feather-light touch and the sight of her sensuously squirming beside him, from her erotic red nipples downward to the delicate triangle of soft, resiliently waving pubic hair.

"You know you please, Marylynn, but-" He suddenly had to suck in his breath, for his wife had caressed his penis, and as limp as it had been a moment earlier, it now throbbed with blood-pounding tingles. "No ... Stop, Marylynn!"

She only moaned softly and tantalizingly stroked it more, seeing it rise into full, heated erection, its cock-head becoming swollen and purplish with arousal. Her creamy satin skin was a lamina of hot desire as she caressed his cock, her fingers urgent and fervid, building her own passions as they built prickling electric shocks in Gordon's loins. God, she wanted him, and her body cried out to be loved tenderly and totally and be merged with his great penis, so that the flames of her desires could be cooled. It seemed as if every time he left on a trip, her need for her husband was all the more insistent, a grasping hold to keep him to her even though she knew he had to leave. And when he returned, she was a wild vixen all over again, for during his brief absence, she'd grow progressively frustrated as the hours and days passed. Though masturbation helped soothe some of her aching plight, no matter how many fingers she crammed into her cunt could ever replace Gordon's masterful cock.

"Darling," she whispered softly,' her lashes shadowing her cheeks as she closed her eyes. "Kiss me, darling ... Kiss me...."

Gordon was being aroused to where he could no longer ignore the tempest that was rising in his penis and testicles. He tried to break away, but his wife's teasing ministrations were too much, and he found himself wanting more and more to plunge his strong, hard erection into her delicious flesh. He raised himself up, then seemingly wilted as she stroked his cock and loving fondled his balls, and then rolled against her, so that they sprawled down on the coverlet.

"Yes, darling ... ." she cooed, still stroking, still caressing with tantalizing fingers as only she knew how. "Take me ... Oh God, Gordon, take me ... ! "

Gordon felt his heart hammering with the beating of her pressured demands, and he felt himself slipping from his self-control, changing from a businessman to a lover. Christ, Marylynn had always had this effect on him, even after all these years. He'd never been able to stay away from her, even before they were married-the result having been a hasty marriage and four months after that, Kathy-and now, fifteen years later, he was still motivated by her breasts and thighs and hands. If it wasn't for his blasted work! If he was only more like Roger, then he'd lie around all day and make violent, passionate love to Marylynn and never go out of the bedroom. Ohhhh, but he had a plane to catch! He must control himself! He must! He glanced at the clock again with agonized eyes, only to turn and be kissed heavily by her, his resolve melting like candle wax.

"Darling ... Take me ... ." she cooed, and Gordon felt a tingling shock run icily through him as her darting tongue wedged beyond his lips and inside his mouth to tease the soft, wet skin of his cheeks. How could anybody deny his basic cravings? He was a man most of all, and as Marylynn continued to caress his penis and balls and entwine him in her hot, panting body, their lips meeting in a soul-searching kiss, he couldn't resist taking her as she wanted.

"Yes ... Yes," he responded, running his hands over her throbbing breasts and down her tight, white belly and into the soft, fleshy folds of her moistly pink cunt.

Marylynn moaned, helplessly caught up in the electrical shocks of lust which spasmed through her. She sensed the dew-drops of moisture rising between her open thighs as the exposed hair-lined lips of her pussy began to spasmodically contract wetly against one another. Gordon ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of her ear and plunged it inside, and her whole being seemed alive with a febrility of surging passion. She couldn't wait much longer or she would go mad!

"Ohhhh," she mewled. "I want you inside me! Now, darling, Now! Ohhhh!" Marylynn twisted her husband's hair, pulling him violently over her. "Please, darling, now!"

The strange obscenity of her passion-filled pleas excited Gordon to a frenzied, blinding furor. To hell with the Conradin contract! To hell with Hammett and St. Louis! His cock and testicles were boiling with blood-surging lust, and his penis pulsed wickedly against the palm of Marylynn's hand as she slid up and down his hardened flesh, and insane with sexual desire, he didn't require further urgings. He grabbed her firmly jutting breasts and rolled on top of her, her legs wide and cradling his hips as the flowering coral lips of her cunt opened and she rubbed his swollen cock along her pinkly throbbing slit, parting the soft, resilient curls of her pubic hair until his shaft was nestled teasingly in the soft grotto of her vaginal hole.

Gordon clamped his fingers into the full smooth cheeks of her undulating buttocks and rammed his body downward. His swelling cock disappeared into her cuntal tunnel with a quick wet sucking sound.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she sighed, and then

"Ohhhhhhhh!" as the full length of his driving shaft entered and filled her moist pussy, stretching the wet, pliant walls in its wake, pushing on the very end of the streaming passage, on to the blunt sensitive tip of her cervix. Gordon sucked in his breath as he felt the hot walls of Marylynn's cunt wrap convulsively around his surging cock, and when he reached the end of her vaginal sheath he stopped, controlling his breath, fearing that he would cum too soon. She's got the sweetest, tightest little pussy, even after all these years, he thought as he lay pressed upon her, his giant cock twitching deep inside her belly. And to his wife, it felt as though Gordon's penis was getting thicker all the time, filling her so completely that she could almost feel it rising in her throat. His hands left her captive as his tongue traced wet lines around the shelllike surface of her tiny ear, sending chills through her and making the hot desire swell even more within her, and she lay beneath him, speared by his hard cock, and the fact that he was not moving was like an unbearable torture. Then the torture changed and turned to a feeling even more powerful that before as she was forced to move her hips and twist herself around and about Gordon's huge impaling cock, pushing her groin up with all her might and slapping her soft thighs into Gordon's rock-like loins, causing his penis to slip another few centimeters into the open wetness up between her legs.

"Ahhh," she cried out again, and suddenly she was a mass of flailing flesh as she bucked against him and pushed the blunt cudgel of his cock higher into her womb with each move she made. Her excitement was building to a feverish pitch, and Gordon had yet to make any real move in her. He could feel the sweat pouring off his brow as he struggled to keep from letting loose a premature stream of hot, jetting sperm, but he knew that soon he would have to. The idea that Marylynn could get him so excited, and then become so excited herself with only his penis inside her vagina was arousing to him beyond the point of being able to control it.

Then, unwilling to hold still any longer, he carefully pulled himself back from her and them with all of his strength, plunged back in, feeling the smooth tantalizing sleeve of his wife's cunt slide over his iron-rod cock like a warm glove while his lips rammed over her mouth, nibbling harshly at her lips, down onto her neck, his teeth sinking into the almost translucent white flesh.

Gordon groaned as he felt her responding to the assault of his fiercely probing member, and gritting his teeth, he fucked into her again, feeling her shamelessly aroused body curl upwards against him. Small moans escaped from her lips as Marylynn moved her head back and forth, her entire body straining up, inundated with delightful piercing shafts of pleasure that made her flesh ripple.

"Oh, Gordon!" she cried out. "Oh god, Gordon!"

He was taking her, making her his, shattering her and slamming her to bits!

"Gordon!" she cried again, clawing up, her long fingernails trailing on his back as he beat like a pile-driver into her open, wetly receptive cunt. Up and down, faster and faster ... and Marylynn's face contorted with passion and her nostrils flared open as her breath burned her lungs.

Gordon felt the raw lithe flesh of his wife's passionately working pussy clasp him tightly, pulse against his pumping shaft until his balls felt ready to explode and he lost all track of time or space as the excruciating pleasure rocked through him. He drove deeper and deeper into her vagina with each thrust of his buttocks, his wife twisting against him, screwing every portion of his cock and routing the huge head around in her seething belly, causing him to gasp and quiver. A fierce storm whirl-winded through him as his penis sucked in her pussy and battered her cervix, the eruption of his heated male seed starting deep in his groin.

Marylynn sensed that he was going to cum, feeling her husband's cock swell and strain against the moist ribs of her fleshy vaginal walls. She begged, "Please ... no, not yet, Gordon!

Not yet ... wait for me!" Her legs splayed wider and her calves locked tightly behind his back as she bucked and writhed beneath him on the wildly squeaking bed, her loins insatiable. "No ... not yet!"

But Gordon couldn't wait another second!

He clamped his mouth tightly down on hers, starting a long, low groan that swelled to shouting as he spewed his hot cum deep up in her hot, slippery passage. She could feel it spurt into her in great, gushing tides, on and on as he emptied his throbbing balls ... until finally his jerking cock began to deflate with the last of his semen. And she was just seconds away from her own orgasm!

"No! Darling, darling Gordon, Nooooo!" she sobbed her frustration into his mouth. But it was useless. She squeezed her buttocks up against a softening penis which had lost its mastery over her seething emotions, and her bare heels pounded desperately against her husband's spent body. With an empty groan, he rolled from between her still hungrily twitching thighs to lie exhausted beside her.

Marylynn was beside herself now, the end so near and yet so unobtainable. She kicked her legs wide out in the air to ineffectually cool the heat which was generating in the hair-lined slit between her thighs, resisting the effects that the now vanquished cock that had a moment before brought her to.

"Gordon ... don't leave me like this! More! Make love to me more, please! Ohhhhhh!"

But Gordon had returned to the world of sanity, his own climax a satisfied and completed thing. He groaned, seeing that by the clock, he might still have a chance to make the plane if he hurried. "Honey ... I can't honey. In a little while I could, after I've rested a bit, but there isn't time now, don't you understand?"

"Gordon, this isn't fair of you," she whimpered, gasping at the force digging into her pussy. "Please ... get hard and make love to me! I'm so close to cumming!"

"Marylynn! I've ... I've never heard you talk or act like this before!" Gordon said, taken aback by his wife's over-sexed reactions. "Now, stop it and calm down. I still have time to make the plane if you help me pack. Do you hear me?"

Marylynn shuddered, torn between the hot salacious desires scorching her still throbbing vagina and the heavy twinge of shame and humiliation that flickered through her confused mind from her husband's words. This was no way to behave ... it was wrong, all wrong, and she had to stop! Ohhhhh. God, she had to stop! She rolled her head from side to side, tears of frustration and agony streaming down the edges of her cheeks, but somehow she managed to still her desperately pulsing body, though the ripples of her unsated arousal still rendered her naked flesh a quaking, quivering mound of helpless jelly for many long moments. When she finally was able to look around, she saw that Gordon was almost dressed, his mind already intent on whatever business was going to go on in St. Louis. She glanced down at the warm, white semen oozing hotly from her cuntal channel, and grimaced at the only sign that her husband had shown any interest at all in her.

She slowly moved her legs around and put her feet on the floor, Dizzy and weak, she stood up. "All right, Gordon," she said softly, her throat parched and dry. "I'll get a robe on, and help you pack...."