Chapter 10
Betty and George were as unlike in appearance as two people could be. She was a natural golden blonde of voluptuous proportions, and he was dark, tall and slender. He held down a top berth with a Beverly Hills investment firm.
Sophia began immediately to make a play for George, and Jeff realized this was his cue to monopolize Betty, preferably to get her away somewhere so that Sophia would have a clearer field. But he didn't want to.
He still hadn't recovered from his sex sessions with Shirley. The entire situation of his involvement at the paper company, his father's evident recovery, the conflict which lay at the very root of the life he led-all this was swirling in his mind.
His response was to drink. He consumed several martinis more quickly than was good for him, and consequently zoomed through the initial phase of intoxication which might have lightened his psychological burden if he had paced his drinking carefully and held himself in a light-hearted state; he quickly entered the more advanced realm, which involved a heaviness of eyelid and limb, a tendency to be morose, and an utter abandonment of what few inhibitions he normally possessed.
And dinner barely slowed down his drinking because there was a gallon of wine served with the meal. The food merely settled his stomach, thereby permitting more and better imbibery during the remainder of the evening.
Betty was wearing a low-cut dress with a built-in bra that pushed her breasts up so that they looked like rising moons, but softer in tone and livelier in texture than any full moons he had ever seen. And, unlike celestial bodies which were too far away,
Betty's moons were thrillingly three-dimensional in appearance. Golden smooth spheroids they were, whose upper halves clear to the nipples were completely revealed.
Jeff stared at them across the dinner table, and later when the party moved back to the living room. Though he hadn't felt like sex when the evening started, he was seized with the wicked urge to bare Betty's fleshy treasures-to unzip the back of her dress, bend the front of it downward and send her breasts spilling out. He still wasn't sure whether he wanted to fuck her, but he did want to put those taunting tits on total display. Wasn't it only fitting that such beauty should be seen and admired in its totality? Did a Rembrandt tease and frustrate the public by keeping his canvasses half-covered? Was an exciting piece of sculpture revealed only at the top while the bottom half remained partially shrouded in cloth?
George and Sophia had grown chummier as the evening progressed. The liquor had helped in that respect, and besides, when Sophia set her sights on a man, it was impossible for him to remain indifferent. Still, Betty had made it clear some time ago that George was opposed to swapping. How was he apt to react to the sudden baring of his wife's boobies by a mutual male friend?'
There was only one way for Jeff to find out.
He maneuvered himself behind her, ostensibly to snuff a cigarette out in an ash tray; then he moved close and with surprising deftness-considering the quantity of liquor he had consumed-he plucked the tab at the top of her zipper and ran it all the way down. Betty gasped and started to turn, but Jeff had already reached forward under her armpit. He quickly grasped her dress and pulled the top of it forward.
Squealing, she clutched her large breasts, one hand around each globe of quivering flesh. Her husband leaped to his feet in shock. Sophia looked quickly from him back to Betty and to Jeff. She saw what would have to bf lone and she did it.
"Well, if this is going to be a strip party," she said, standing up and moving her hands to the fasteners on her own dress, "little Sophia isn't going to be completely left out."
Before George could mount any action against Jeff, the latter's wife had joined George's in semi-nudity. When Sophia's pert titties went on display, George helplessly shifted his gaze to them. And Betty released her own larger, rounder and softer breasts, allowing them to plunge forward and jiggle as she dropped her hands to her sides.
"Lovely!" Jeff exclaimed in his drunkenness. "We can start our own topless bar."
Betty giggled nervously and said to Sophia, "We can't go around like this, with the tops of our dresses hanging down. What do we do-take 'em all the way off and give the boys a real show, or pull ourselves together?"
George answered the question before Sophia had a chance to. The man who had been so opposed to swapping did a sudden about-face. The sight of Sophia's naked breasts had turned him on, and she was smiling at him in a way that let him know they were available.
He placed both hands on them, squeezed, and said, "Holy Hannah, what tight ones!"
Sophia laughed and tossed her shoulders, wiggling her boobs in his hands.
Betty said, "Want to get in on the action, mister?" She"shoved her large, soft breasts at Jeff.
He brought his thumbs up underneath them and held them at their outer sides with his extended fingers. He shook them back and forth. Their crests were light brown and nicely textured with thick nubbins at their centers.
The party was now in gear, and Jeff, lingering uncertainly about whether he wanted an orgy that night, could not stop its progress or alter the course which he himself had set.
Sophia wriggled out of her dress as George continued to slobber over her breasts. She wore a brief, white pantygirdle, and dark stockings anchored to it. When Betty dropped her dress and half slip, she was left standing in just her stockings and garter belt.
She and Jeff sank to the sofa as Sophia led a now-eager George out of the room. He didn't even glance back at his wife.
"I wouldn't have believed it," Betty commented as Jeff began to caress her. "He was so set against fun and games."
"A cardinal rule, dear girl, is not to judge people by what they say, but by what they do," Jeff proclaimed thickly, proceeding to move his lips over her left breast.
His cock was not cooperating. An over-consumption of alcohol, plus the physical drain which Shirley had placed upon him earlier-plus the lack of resolution about what he really wanted-not only for now, but for the future days of his life-made him slow to respond.
He spent a very long time kissing each of Betty's nipples, then touring the entirety of each breast with eager lips and stroking tongue. No luck. He was as limp as ever.
He guided her to a prone position on the couch and knelt on the carpet to kiss up and down each of her arms, tickling the sensitive skin at the crooks of her elbows. He sucked her fingertips and then her toes. Still no luck.
For her part, Betty was sizzling. She squirmed, rubbing her large ass against the nubby couch fabric and scissoring her upraised thighs.
He shifted to her legs, holding each of them in tum and licking all the way around the top of each stocking. He flicked his tongue into her frothing crotch.
She was crying for him now. Literally sobbing, she begged him in the most obscene terms. His cock remained limp as spaghetti.
Finally she seized his cock and began pumping it in a way that was practically guaranteed to produce an erection.
It hardly grew at all.
In sheer exasperation, Betty leaped from the couch to a wide, tufted hassock, landing on her knees. She lowered the upper portion of her body, bracing her hands against the floor, and raised her ass up to him.
Jeff gazed,
Betty's plump buttocks had spread and both her anus and cunt were totally revealed to him. It was a view that ranked among the most inspiring he had ever seen. Moreover, she was at exactly the right height. All he would have to do was move up behind her and remain standing while he shoved his dick in and proceeded to piston forward and back'.
But in order to accomplish this, one prerequisite was involved-a hard-on. And he did not possess that. Even staring at her now, he made little progress.
She looked back at him and saw his helpless condition. She stood up.
"For God's sake, what's the matter?" she demanded. "Did you drink too much?"
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe if we sneaked in on Sophia and George and I watched them for a while-maybe that would help."
"Let's go," she said, grasping him firmly by the hand.
There was a downstairs bedroom at the back of the house which was servant's room that was riot in use any more, but which was fully furnished. He assumed that was where his wife had taken George.
Jeff led the way with Betty beside him, her bulbous breasts bouncing with every step. That sight alone would ordinarily have been enough to turn him on, but his cock continued to be indifferent.
Just before entering the room, he slipped his cock back into his slacks and closed the zipper. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his nudity; he just didn't want to advertise the problem he was having with his impotency.
George was having no difficulty at all. This became apparent as soon as Jeff opened the bedroom door.
Sophia was spread out in the center of the three-quarter-size bed, and George's cock was poised above her, ready to make the plunge. His body was symmetrical all over, especially his cock-slim and tall. His head turned, as did Sophia's, and he issued an angry oath. He was about to leap from the bed, but Sophia grasped his arm.
"Let them watch," she said urgently. "That's great kicks for everybody."
"I'd feel like a performer in a stag reel," George protested, trying to hide his cock while Sophia's nudity was on blatant display.
"Don't be so narrow-minded," Sophia ridiculed. "Loosen up." She grasped his hips and began to draw his cock down to her slit.
George couldn't resist. He couldn't even delay. His cock was too hot to achieve the contact, to feel her moist cunt walls around him.
He took her.
Betty watched Jeff as he stared at the spectacle on the bed. Her hand moved slyly to his cock, testing him through his clothes. There was response! As her hand fondled him and as he stared at the vigorous action supplied by his wife and her lover of the moment, his prick began to grow.
"That's the way, Jeff honey," she murmured. "Keep going. More. More. Oh, yes!"
She dropped to her knees on the rug and drew him down with her. He didn't have to unfasten his clothes. Betty tended to that. She opened his trousers, after which she lowered his pants and shorts. She caressed his prick, murmuring and sighing as the lengthening erection continued to take place. When he finally had the good-sized hard-on she wanted, she flopped onto her back and opened her legs wide.
Jeff sprang to the ready and, with the rhythmic squeak of the bedsprings under his wife and George dinning in his ears, he fucked Betty on the rug, driving his cock in with savage strokes.
There was more hate than love in it-hate for her and hate for himself, as well as hate for his wife and her despoiler-hate for the kind of life they all had led.
When he and Sophia were finally in their room, alone together, he growled, "I want you to kick the Finstads out in the morning. Tell them Dad's leaving the hospital and needs the house."
"But he's not getting out so soon, is he? And, even so, there's plenty of room for all of us."
"Do as I say, damn it! I don't want those people around."
"That's a switch," Sophia commented dryly. "The way you pulled the top of Betty's dress down when we were in the living room, I thought you could hardly wait to play volley ball with her boobs."
"I was, drunk."
"Yes, and you still are. Come to bed." Nude, Sophia slithered between the sheets. Jeff stood, shorts in hand, and stared at her. "How was George?" he asked bitingly. "Okay. The same as any of them." "If they're all the same, Sophia, why in the hell do you have to sample each one?"
She sat up in surprise, letting the covers fall away, "Well, that's a funny thing for you to say! You're the playboy who taught me how to live, remember? I was a reasonably discriminating little coed before you started to whisper in my ear about the delights of free love and all that crap."
"All right. So I'm going to change."
Sophia tilted her head back and laughed.
"You think not?" he said. "My eyes have been opened since we came here. I've found out there's more to life than just seeing how many cunts I can fuck."
"You don't mean you're going to stay on in the business!"
"No. I can't work for Dad. But I'm not going back to the old life, either."
"Just what are your plans-if I'm not being too inquisitive?"
"I don't know yet. But something will have to open up."
She looked at him in wonder. "I think the mountain air has got you. You're cracking."
He walked over to the bed and gazed down at her intently. A new light came into his eyes. "Do you realize what a challenge there is in wrestling with a problem that no one can solve? And what a pleasure there is in discovering you can do what they couldn't?" He sighed. "No, I guess you don't. I didn't, either. But I've found out. Business is a living, breathing thing, Sophia. It's people. It's getting things done."
"Okay. So you can dabble in something. You don't have to turn both of our lives upside down."
"But that's just it, don't you see? I chose the kind of life I did because I had nothing else. I never had to work until now, so naturally I wouldn't."
"Well, you don't have to any more. Your father's recovering."
"But I've found something. A new approach to life. A new kick, if you like."
"Jeff, you're raving. Come to bed."
He looked at her and wondered if he could ever make her understand. And then he wondered if it mattered to him whether she understood or not.