Chapter 6

Jim waited, flushed and uneasy, his fingers knotted in his lap. Already the Mexican food was lying like a lump in his middle. He had been a fool for bringing Joyce here.

He looked at her. She was on the edge of her chair, looking wonderfully fresh in her trim pants, the white blouse and her hair in a neat bun at the back of her neck. She looked like a college girl about to begin her first interview for a job. If only she didn't look so sexy. The pants and the shirt hid nothing. Her ass was revealed at every twitching muscle and her breasts jutted so that he knew he could make out the outlines of her nipples.

Surely Scott wasn't having any trouble using his imagination to fill in every last intimate detail. His eyes nicked over her as he pulled on the cigar. He looked perfectly comfortable, as though he were doing nothing more than conducting a job interview.

"Mrs. Babcock-Joyce-I want you to listen to what I have to say and I hope you'll accept it in the right spirit," he began.

Joyce glanced once at Jim and then she tacked on a tight little smile, her head cocked, as though ready for a lecture on etiquette.

"Jim has a future with the bank. There's no doubt about that. But it's up to you to help decide how quickly we can bring his future up to the present. I'm talking about promotion, more money, very soon-like right now."

Joyce half nodded, but a small line had appeared between her blue eyes. She was wondering what promotion had to do with her.

Scott continued. "I like you, Joyce. You're a damned attractive woman and you've got the style I admire. Jim assures me you're a whole, a complete woman. Well ... I'll just lay it on the line. You play ball with me and I'll see that your husband gets a substantial raise-right away. It's as simple as that."

Joyce's gasp filled the room.

"All right, so you're surprised and shocked, but don't try to tell me you didn't suspect something of this kind. After all, if Jim was secretive you knew something was in the wind. And I didn't exactly ignore you at that party the other night." He smiled disarmingly. "You can leave when you like. By leave, I mean walk out of this room. Go out to the pool spend a terrific weekend with me, Helen and the kids-you'll love the kids. There'll be nothing more said, but don't expect Jim to rise to the top. Not without your cooperation."

Joyce was half gasping and she looked at Jim with alarm in her face. "I thought you expected me to be nice to him, perhaps flirt a little, but what does he mean by 'playing ball?" Her voice was rising as she spoke.

Jim swallowed and murmured, "Anything he wants."

"And I'm not sure what I want," Scott continued. "But I know an extra $100 a week would buy you and Jim here a lot of things you'd like to have."

A hundred a week! It was a fortune to Jim, and to Joyce, too. They could pay off the car, manage the mortgage easily and buy the furniture for the back bedroom. That was more than four hundred dollars a month.

Joyce was looking at him and then she looked, at Scott. "I still don't understand my ... role."

Scott leaned forward, flicking an inch of cigar ash into a tray. "You're a gorgeous creature. I like beautiful things and I can afford to buy them. I'd simply want you to please me-nothing that's going to harm you in any way. Christ, who'd want to harm a body like yours?"

Jim sighed and Joyce was looking at him again. "Are you willing to give me to this man? Do you want to get ahead this much?"

Jim shook his head. "It's up to you."

"No. It's really up to you."

He shrugged. "Well, we always said we were a team. I work for what I've accomplished. You keep saying you want to help out. You don't have a job of your own...."

"And now I can help you get ahead."

Jim nodded and breathed, "Yes. Something like that."

"This goes a bit beyond helping you balance the books or write checks around the dining room table at night."

"I know. Come on, well go. Back to the coast. Right now, if you wish." He began to get up.

He was surprised when Joyce waved him back down. Scott chuckled. "Relax. I'm not that tough to take, am I? After ah, you're not cheating. And you're going to be well paid. That beats the hell out of some sordid secret affair that doesn't help anybody."

Joyce's startled gasp also surprised Jim and he peered at her. Somehow Scott had struck a nerve. Not that Joyce would ever cheat on him-as Jim had cheated on her. She was biting her lips as she looked at him. "I do want to help you, darling. But I don't want you to hate me later. And I don't want to hate myself. I have some pride. Is it worth a hundred dollars?"

"A week," Scott pointed out.

Joyce sniffed. "And I must ... perform every week?"

He shook his head. "Only, this weekend. Any further performances are up to you. No future obligations, but if you find you like it...." He eloquently spread his hands. "Even if you aren't as ... ah, talented as you look, Jim gets his raise. I'm not a welsher."

Joyce half sobbed and Jim reached over to touch her knee. He felt like a total pig and abruptly he was on his feet. "Come on, let's get out of here. English, you can take your raise-the whole damned job, for that matter-and shove them...."

Now it was Joyce who shook her head. She patted the empty chair until Jim sat down again. "Please, darling, let's get all this out. I believe I'm willing ... to ... try to please Mr. English...."

"Scott," the bank president blurted.

"Scott, to the best of my ability." She sniffed. "I'm terribly ashamed, but I'm also proud. It will take courage, but as you say we are partners."

They all sat in silence for several minutes. At last it was Joyce who lifted her eyes to Scott. "How do we begin?"

Scott slapped his palm on the desk. "For openers, I want to see what I'm getting. Not only how you look, but how you respond. Hell, you might be an icebox, for all I know."

"Hold on...." Jim began, but Joyce waved him to silence.

She lifted her chin and to Jim she looked very prim. She sat with her knees locked together, hands folded in her lap, breasts jutting. "I know what I look like, but I can make no guarantees about how I'll respond, Scott English. After all, I didn't come here to be a ready and willing prostitute."

Scott smiled. "The body is here...."

"But not necessarily the senses," she interrupted. "You'll need to accept the proposition on those grounds. I can make no promise. At best, I will be permissive."

Scott flicked more ashes and placed his fingertips together. "It's possible some good to you both might come out of this, and I'm not talking about money now. Could be you're not all that hot together in the bedroom. Am I right?"

Joyce looked to Jim at once. "Who have you been talking to?"

Jim shrugged. "I don't know what he means."

"I think you do," Scott snapped. "The word gets around very easily. A hint, a remark dropped here and there and the pieces fall together. It's quite possible that if you'd allow yourself to keep an open mind-and an open body-you both might learn a few things that could work to your advantage when you're alone together." He sat back and suddenly he was very dignified, his face solemn, his manner professorial. "Now, let the games begin."

Jim looked at Joyce and she was licking her lips. "See you later, honey," Jim said, feeling like a snake. "And if you change your mind I'll be right outside."

"You'll be right here," Scott corrected. "I want you to be the demonstration man, or did I forget to tell you? I want you to show me the merchandise. After all, for a hundred a week indefinitely, I deserve a first class presentation."

"Huh?" Jim blurted.

"Your wife is a sophisticated piece of machinery. I can see that. Show me all her moving parts. You do it; I'll watch."

Joyce was looking at her husband. "Better you than him, my darling husband. After all, we must do what's best for your precious career. Hell, why didn't you make a career of the Army or something? Anything but banking."

"If you want to go...."

"No!" she barked. "Let's get it over with. I'll need the rest of the weekend to get myself clean." She glared at Scott. "I suppose you want a complete demonstration, a sort of silent floor show."

"That would do nicely," the bank president said. Jim wanted to leap over the desk and punch him, quit his job and haul his wife back to the coast. But something stopped him and it was more than simply fear for his job. Something English had said, something Sally had said. That business about swapping being good for the soul.

Joyce was on her feet, smoothing the pants over her thighs and tucking her blouse in tightly. Jim heard Scott's sharp intake of breath and he felt the same way. His wife was a flying bomb with an inviting fuse. He was a fool for not being able to make her explode whenever he wished.

"Come on," Joyce snapped and she stood like a statue, arms at her sides.

Jim cast a wavering glance at Scott, who wiggled his fingers. "Whenever you're ready, Jim. The audience is ready to be the judge."

"How do I start?"

"Take her clothes off, of course." The voice was irritated, impatient.

Jim took a few steps toward Joyce, pausing by her side. "I'm sorry, honey. Really I am."

She merely nicked her eyes at him as she stood like a soldier in ranks for an inspection.

He half lifted a hand and flushed all over again. "I can't!"

"You can and you will," Scott growled. Jim looked at him. The cigar had been stubbed out and the president's hands were out of sight below the edge of the desk.

Jim sighed and touched Joyce's shoulder. He didn't know where to begin. Then he imagined his wife getting ready for bed and at once he felt his penis harden. He was ashamed, but he couldn't hold back the ache in his groin. Hell, he'd watched her undress a dozen times in the past two weeks without getting a hard-on and now here he was, up like a shot.

The heat in his groin began to spread as he touched her collar. He used both hands to open a button, and then another button. Slowly he worked until the blouse was open to her waist. The pink of the edge of her bra cups was in sight and he glanced quickly toward Scott.

Scott was leaning forward, his hands still out of sight, but his gaze was intense. He caught Jim looking at him and at once he leaned back, behaving as though he were very casual. He smiled in a bored way.

"I'm still waiting. Get going. Do it nice and easy, but don't keep holding back."

Jim nodded and turned back to his wife. He looked into Joyce's eyes. They were brittle, the blue looking like ice, and her face seemed to be made of a beautiful wood. Below she was taking shallow breaths, her breasts rising and falling with a tiny jiggle.

He began to pull the blouse from her waist and the hissing of the rough cotton could be heard in the silent room. He got it out all the way around and then he peeled the material over her shoulders. Before the blouse could fall away Scott held up his hand.

"Hold it right there for a minute!" He leaned forward again, his eyes studying her breasts, which were packed into the pink bra. They seemed to yeam to spill over the top and as Jim himself followed Scott's gaze he felt his cock straining against his fly.

"Now," Scott continued, "leave the blouse where, it is and get under it. Loosen her bra and expose her breasts without taking off the blouse."

Jim looked at Joyce and he shrugged. "I'm sorry, honey. You heard the man."

"Just keep going," she hissed, her eyes fixed at a point on the far wall above Scott's head. Was he only imagining that her breathing had become faster, more shallow?

He got behind her and, lifting the tail of the blouse, he pushed under it until he found the clasp at the center of her back. He got it open easily and he felt the straps surge out of his fingers as her breasts shot forward. The bra was loose but it still covered her mounds.

He looked quickly at Scott and then he returned to his work. Scott seemed to be sweating and his hands were still out of sight. What the hell was he doing under there? Jim wondered. He didn't want to guess.

Back at Joyce's side, he pulled at the bra until the tight cups came away. He couldn't get the thing off with her blouse on, but he lifted it and threw it over her shoulders so that only a strap was across her throat. Her front was exposed, except where the loose blouse fell over one nipple. She looked very wanton and Jim felt his excitement increase.

"Beautiful, Joyce," Scott said. "Wonderful breasts and you carry them so proudly. I'd like to pin a medal on each one. And how exciting it is to see you like that, as though you'd been in a fight, your blouse half off, one nipple exposed to daylight, the other tucked inside. Jim, my lad, pull the blouse out of the way, would you?"

Jim flicked the blouse off the hidden nipple and he gazed along with his boss. The breasts were high and full, very white, for Joyce was quite fair. The nipples were a cherry red, somehow looking as though they'd never been touched by hands other than her own.

The two men stared for several minutes and then Scott waved his hand again. "You may continue."

Jim cleared his throat before he pulled the blouse down over her arms. Then he removed the bra as Joyce extended her arms so he could free the straps. Again he paused and they studied his wife, naked from the waist up. Scott was clucking softly, like a time bomb, as Jim went through step after step.

Jim licked his lips and waited for Scott to wave again before he went on. Then he gazed for several seconds at Joyce's square white shoulders. They were so firm, so erect, so like the soldiers of a queen. Her arms were tanned from her work in the garden at home. Her belly had a tan stripe across its middle where she'd been wearing a bare midriff gardening outfit.

Abruptly Jim knelt. He felt Joyce steady herself by placing a hand on his head as he made her lift one foot and then the other. He slipped off her shoes and carefully placed them to one side. While he was down there he felt the moisture oozing from his cock. Christ, he hoped it wouldn't show.

Then he stood and glanced at Scott. The bank president smiled. "My, you are tall, my dear. Five nine, I'd guess."

Jim nodded stupidly in confirmation.

Scott nodded back. "Wonderful. And, dear James, you've cleared the way to the heart of the matter by removing her shoes. Now you may remove her pants. You may remove everything."