Chapter 8

The next evening Jeff sat up in bed, books and papers spread around him, and scribbled on a yellow table as his wife busied herself with the various activities of a woman preparing to retire for the night.

Finally she positioned herself beside the bed, hands on slim hips, her blue shortie nightgown hanging off the small conical peaks of her bosom, and said, "All right, Mister Executive, clean up this clutter so I can slide in, okay?"

At first he didn't reply, so she remained standing where she was, staring down at him. Eventually her presence and concentrated gaze got through to him and he glanced up.

"What was that, Sophia?"

"I said ... I want to come to bed."

"Oh. Well, look darling... why don't you snuggle in with Lupita for a while? Or there's a spare room, isn't there?"

"I don't understand you," she stated, hands still clenched at her hips. "What are you so involved in all of a sudden? You didn't want to have anything to do with the business at first, and now I can't pry your nose out of those papers."

He put the pad flat on his lap and smiled at her. "This Glu-Pane thing is intriguing. I had no idea business could be fun."

"You must be sick," Sophia sniffed.

She pranced around the foot of the bed and came up on the other side of it, her breasts jiggling the flimsy fabric of her short gown. Without another word, she snapped off the bedside lamp her husband had been using.

"Hey!" he protested.

She began to push at the books and papers, some of them falling onto the floor.

"What the devil do you think you're doing?" Jeff demanded sharply, shoving her aside to turn the lamp on again.

"It's almost eleven o'clock and I happen to feel like coming to bed!" Sophia snapped, "You've been buried in this mess all evening."

"Okay. If you're bound and determined to come to bed, and if it has to be this particular bed, the only thing I can do is get the hell out."

He pushed the covers back and got to his feet. He was wearing pajamas. Bending forward, he began gathering the loose papers, stapled reports, books, pads and pencils. "Pick up that stuff that fell, will you?" he asked her.

Sophia glared at him for a moment, then complied.

"Where are you going?" she asked, as he carried the materials to a chair and dumped them in the seat of it.

"To see Kris," he said, pulling his pajama top over his head. "I want to re-check some figures with her, anyway."

"You're sure you don't want to re-check her figure?" Sophia asked haughtily, adding "Who the hell is Kris, anyway?"

"She's head of Research and Development," Jeff replied, dropping his pajama pants.

Sophia looked him up and down. "It's a little late to go calling on a business matter, isn't it?"

"Since when did we start keeping tabs on one another?"

He strode to the dresser to get shorts and shirt.

"Jeff, stay home tonight."

He turned and looked at her. There was a quality in her eyes he had not noticed in some time. Her lower lips glistened moistly and he thought he detected a tiny quiver.

He smiled. "Don't tell me you haven't picked up a boy friend in town."

"As a matter of fact, I haven't."

"Well, there's Lupe." He turned to the dresser.

"I don't want Lupe tonight. A female couldn't begin to satisfy me."

"Sophia, for God's sake!"

"Well, is it so unusual or shocking for a wife to want to go to bed with her husband?"

"I told you I have business to take care of," he replied, as he stepped into pale blue shorts.

Standing beside the bedroom lamp, Sophia quickly stripped off her shortie nightgown. Her small breasts flipped and quivered tautly as the fabric pulled away from them. Jeff couldn't help staring. As many times as he had seen Sophia in the nude, he had never been able to take for granted the amazing erectness of her unsupported breasts. And she was no kid any more. That made the phenomenon doubly remarkable.

Still, he had to see Kris. In making this decision and sticking with it, he had only business in mind.

He straightened his shorts at his middle and shook out the sports shirt in front of him.

Steamy with smoldering anger and with her frustrated desire for him, Sophia got into bed nude and pulled the covers up. He didn't look her way as he completed dressing.

He went into the bathroom to comb his hair.

When he returned to the bedroom, the light was out. He felt his way to the chair where his books and papers were, scooped them up, and carried them out of the room. He left the house and got into the company car which he had left parked in the semicircular driveway.

He knew where Kris lived. He had looked her up in the phone book earlier that evening in order to call her about a question that was troubling him, and he had made a mental note of her address.

During the short drive to her house, he continued to puzzle over the few remaining aspects of the Glu-Pane problem which remained to be cleared up.

Kris had had the cost analysis ready for him at noon, as he had ordered, and the two had remained closeted for the remained of the report. He had called in some accounting and sales personnel for their advice, also. During the evening he had been making additional computations.

The basic problem was one of cost management, and this was a subject for which Jeff had demonstrated a remarkable aptitude when he was taking business administration at Stanford. He found now that most of what he had learned came back to him, even though it had lain largely dormant in his mind for the past several years.

Bringing his car to a stop in front of the white frame cottage where Kris lived, Jeff didn't consider the possibility that she might be married and might, at that very moment, be locked in a passionate embrace with her husband. There was another possibility, namely that she was single, and was entertaining a boy friend in her bed. He could have been fucking her as Jeff with papers and books under his arm, pressed her doorbell.

Jeff's total attention was focused on the business problem that had brought him over, and this in itself presented a notable change in his approach to life.

He rang the doorbell a second time. After a moment, a light winked on, casting a rectangle of brightness against the shrubbery and lawn in front of the bedroom window. The cloth shade was drawn.

There was a thumping sound from inside the house and then, from immediately on the other side of the front door, Kris' voice. "Who is it?"

"Jeff Bardell."

"What? Oh ... just a moment."

The door opened and Kris, clutching a bulky blue robe at her breasts, peered out, a dim light shining from somewhere behind her. Her blonde hair was in braids down her back.

"I guess it's & little late," Jeff said with an apologetic smile. "But I had to see you."

She blinked a few times, as if to clear away a few remaining cobwebs of sleep, and stepped back from the open door. "Come on."

The house was neat, and Kris apparently lived alone. There was no sign that anyone else belonged there or was present.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up. " he said.

"That's all right," she replied, though her tone suggested something else. She looked pointedly at the books and papers he carried.

"This Glu-Pane thing has really gotten to me. I think I've made some progress since this afternoon, but there are some sticky points. Do you mind?"

"No. Sit down. I'll go out to the kitchen and put on some coffee."

Jeff settled himself in the comfortable living room, spreading his books and papers on the floor and on the large coffee table. In a few moments Kris reappeared, reporting that the coffee would be ready shortly. She sat down on the couch beside him.

They went to work.

The session, which began at eleven-thirty, continued until half-past two. Both of them were bleary-eyed by that time, and finally Jeff sat back with a sigh.

"Well, that does it for tonight," he said, glancing at his watch. "My God! I had no idea."

Kris laughed slightly. "I did. But I'm surprised how we've cut into this thing. It begins to look now as if we're going to solve it."

"Damn right, we'll solve it! Tomorrow we'll get together with Accounting again. And I want you to put your lab crew to work on a couple of those shortcuts we talked about. They may be our salvation."

Kris, leaning back against the sofa bolster, watched him with eyes that had turned very warm.

"You're a remarkable man," she said. "I thought at first that you were going to ruin the company. You know, there's a lot of talk to that effect around the office. I'm going to tell those people they're wrong."

"Thanks," he said.

Suddenly Kris looked very desirable to him, with her soft cheek resting against the back of the couch, her eyes and lips free of'makeup, her hair braided like a little girl's. He wanted to find out what was underneath her bulky wrapper.

"I've never asked you," he said, "but I presume you're not married."

"I was. I'm divorced."

"That's too bad."

She smiled. "Why is that?"

"Well, you seem like the sort of woman who should have a husband. You're young and vital . . . and serious."

"The kind of husband I had was worse than none, believe me."

"What was the trouble?"

"Other women. I am a serious-minded girl, and I couldn't put up with a man who was a chaser."

"I see."

"You're married, aren't you, Jeff?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to meet your wife."

"We'll plan a get-together one of these days soon-all the department heads at our house. Of course, with my father ill as he is, it wouldn't be appropriate right now."

"No." She gazed at him for a few moments more, and Jeff thought he detected something in her clear blue eyes which went a little beyond friendliness. But almost as soon as he had identified it, her look changed and she stood up. "Well, I expect you want to be getting back home," she said, "and I know I want to get to bed."

When he had come to her house, he had not intended, even subconsciously, to make a play for her. But now he was overwhelmed with the desire to do so. The urge was so strong, he could not fight it back.

He arose from the couch and moved close to her. She didn't back up. Her blue eyes searched his insistent gaze. Then she said, "Jeff, please don't."

Since he hadn't yet touched her, this took him a little off stride. He grinned. "Don't tell me you're the kind of girl who says ouch before she gets burned."

"I don't want to get burned. And I don't want you to do anything you'll feel sorry for."

"I'm never sorry afterward, regardless of what I've done."

She took one step backward. She said, "I imagine your wife is wondering why you're not home."

He advanced, still grinning slightly. But there was determination in his eyes, also. "She never wonders about me. She doesn't care."

"Perhaps you should see a marriage counselor," she suggested, stepping backward again.

"I would rather see you," he murmured huskily, closing the gap between them. Before she had an opportunity to stop him, his hand moved to the top of her robe and tugged one side of the V away from her body.

A nude, pear-shaped breast flipped out to stand quivering, its thick stem pointing at his eyes. Jeff's hand clasped it.

Kris cried out and backed up, trying at the same time to dislodge his hand and to cover herself. It was futile. Jeff kept after her, holding the one breast while he widened the opening of her robe with his other hand. Her second breast poked free, and now he saw her white belly.

Holding both her breasts as she whimpered and clawed alternately at her robe and at his arms, he backed her against the wall. His hungry mouth went after hers. She turned her head from side to side, but finally he caught her and for a moment, as his lips spread hers and as his tongue plunged deeply into her mouth, she stopped struggling/He fondled and squeezed her naked breasts as they kissed, and his cock responded to the challenge of her warm, pliant flesh and her sensuous mouth.

He moved in close, pressing his cock against her.

She reacted as if she had been touched by a cattle prod.

She tore her mouth from his and, gasping, twisted away from the wall and fought off his grappling hands. Her uncovered breasts jiggling up and down, she circled the living room and made for the doorway leading to the back of the house. Jeff reached it right behind her. She got through, but she couldn't close the door against him. His shoe stopped it.

She ran down the hall toward the bedroom, her open robe flying. He glimpsed her full, naked thighs and the lower curves of her buttocks as she entered what she hoped would be her sanctuary.

Massively aroused now, inflamed by his neeed for her, Jeff lunged at the closing bedroom door and pushed it open, forcing Kris to reel backward. She was totally exposed as she fell across the bed.

He leaped astride her.

"Oh, damn you!" she said, beating at him with her fists. "You can't do this! You can't!"

"I'm going to," he insisted, watching her breasts toss and quiver as he sought to subdue her arms. Finally he succeeded, clamping her upturned hands between his knees and the bed.

He pawed at her provocative breasts and she whined.

He bent forward and his face bore down to hers for another bruising kiss. This time she had the mattress at the back of her head, rather than a hard wall, and he kissed her even more voraciously than he had the first time. He raped her mouth with his tongue. She brought her knees up against his back, but she couldn't gain enough of a swing to hurt him.

When he finally released her lips and sat up, she lay with open mough, blinking, breathing hard.

"I want you!" he breathed. "I have to have you. Understand?"

"It will be rape," she said. "I'll file charges."

"You don't mean that."

"I do. Sex is sacred to me. I wouldn't put up with a man who played around with other women, and I don't play with men."

Jeff stared at her. His cock was throbbing painfully, torturing him against his slacks; But he couldn't go ahead with what he had started.

She had said rape, and rape was what it would be.

He backed off and stood up.

She stared at his clothing, then slowly sat up. She rubbed first one wrist and then the other. She drew her robe together and got off the bed.

"We'll forget this ever happened," she told him. "Now leave."

He broke every speed law getting from Kris' cottage to the Bardell mansion at the top of the hill. He left the car in front, as before, and vaulted into the house and up the stairs.

His bedroom was dark.

"Sophia?" he said.

There was no answer.

He moved to the side of the bed and felt around. She was there. He lay the covers back from her. She was still nude. He felt her breasts and her pussy.

His cock began to surge again and he tore at his clothes. He could scarcely get them off quickly enough.

He rolled Sophia onto her back and spread her legs. He got onto his knees.

He didn't do anything to prepare her. She was still asleep when she felt his cock nudging at the entrance to her vagina. v She said, "Unh" then, "Oh!" then, "Jeff what?" * He had done it. The first phase, at least. His cock slipped roughly into her dry tunnel.

"Oh, God, that hurts!" she cried.

"Shut up and take it! You're my wife!"

She moaned and sobbed as he fucked her all but tearing her flesh with his massive hard-on. But she very quickly accommodated herself. And as the accommodation proceeded, hurt gave way to enjoyment. She began to move with him.

Her little hips bobbed. He dug underneath to grasp her around the butt, so that he could position and twist her just £he way he wanted. He worked his cock vigorously.

She gasped and cried, "Oh, oh ... Daddy . .. lover . . . darling . .. fuck me ..."

He nearly croaked before fulfillment grasped him in its fist and shook the passion out of him as Sophia lay convulsing also.

Afterward she said, "I'm glad that Kris bitch wouldn't give you any."

"How do you know I tried?"

"I know you, buddy-boy."

"All right. Just don't gloat."

"While we're talking about do's and don'ts, for God's sake wake me up before you start next time."

"Did I hurt you?" he asked belatedly.

"Well, a woman ought to be prepared."

"Okay, baby," he murmued, caressing her.

There was silence for a few moments, after which Sophia remarked, "I think you're taking the flipping business too seriously. We're away from the old crowd, and that isn't good."

"Just what do you suggest?"

"That we invite Betty and her husband up here for the weekend. They'd probably come. George has a plane, you know, and they're most likely tired of flying to places like Tahoe and Vegas."

At first the thought appealed to him. He hadn't screwed Betty in a hell of a long time. But then the urge cooled.

"Well?" Sophia prompted. "What do you say?"

"You just want to get George between the sheets."

"Well, sure. I told you that. But I think a party would do you good, too. And, as you said at dinner, we can't invite the local people yet, with your father lingering on the way he is."

Jeff remained silent. He didn't know what he wanted to do. The truth was, that inside his brain, he could hardly recognize himself.

"I'm tired, Sophia," he said finally, as he rolled onto his side, facing away from her. "Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?"

"Sure."

In less than five minutes, he was asleep.