The Straying Housewife
by Jackson Robard 


FOREWORD 

HOW much is enough? This is a question often asked, sometimes jokingly, 
sometimes seriously. It more often pertains to material possessions than 
emotional fulfillment, and the essence of the question runs the gamut from 
the needs of the ascetic who rejects almost all material possessions as 
sinful or enslaving to the other end of the spectrum exemplified by the 
glutton, the power-crazed dictator, the hedonist, the miser. To the ascetic, 
almost anything is too much; to the emotionally or materialistically greedy, 
everything is not enough. 

Most of us fall somewhere in between the two extremes, finding in different 
times and places, too much of this or too little of that: food, perhaps, or 
drink... or sex. Many authors have portrayed characters tormented by greed. 
One thinks of George Eliot's Silas Marner or Frank Norris's McTeague, to 
name but two. And there is the famous section of Petronius's Satyricon 
dealing with Trimalchio's banquet. 

Now, author Jackson Robard has presented a new novel, The Straying 
Housewife, dealing with the materialistic and emotional greed of a woman who 
find herself dissatisfied with what she has in life. For Isabel Miller, 
enough is not enough. Her husband, Bill, loves her, and they appear to have 
an ideal marriage and a happy family life. But Mr. Robard details the events 
which, little by little, gnaw away at the security of her life. Step by 
fatal step, Isabel Miller allows herself to be consumed by the gluttonous 
desires of her own carnal appetites. She learns, in the words of Sir Walter 
Scott, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!" 
From a loving devoted wife, she becomes an adulteress who lies to and 
deceives her husband. 

Like the dog with the bone in Aesop's simple fable, Isabel Miller drops the 
satisfaction she has, and, in grasping for the shadowy promise of a greater 
satisfaction, she creates her own hell - a hell where she is very much 
alone, for while many men will possess her body, none can ever (or will ever 
wish to) have her completely or call her their own. And Isabel Miller finds 
herself trapped in a hell of her own creation where nothing can ever be 
enough. 

We, the publishers, are certain that the mature adult reader will welcome 
this penetrating novel as an educational insight into one aspect of our 
contemporary mores. 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Conscious of her husband Bill's gentle grip on her bare biceps, Isabel 
Miller lifted her drink to her lips and took a sip of scotch, her flashing 
eyes drifting slowly over the young men and women lounging about the 
luxurious parlor. For a moment her eyes focused on a tall muscular man of 
thirty with longish blond hair who stood chatting with their hostess, Eileen 
Tropper. So that's Jack O'Niel, she thought with a twinge of appreciation or 
even envy, instinctively recognizing her friend Carrol's newest boyfriend 
from her description. 

"He looks like a conceited snob," Isabel remarked half to herself. 

"What?" Bill asked. 

"He looks like a conceited snob. That's Carrol's new flame. But then most 
swimmers are, the men, I mean," she was adding as the blond headed man 
suddenly sensed he was being observed, lifted his head in the manner of a 
dog that has picked a scent on the air and turned to stare straight into 
Isabel's eyes. They looked at each other in silence, a pulsing kind of 
silence that spanned the space between them and was profound, as though it 
superseded the din of conversation that filled the room. She watched the 
movement at the corner of his mouth as his lips began to twist toward a 
smile. She started to smile herself. Then instead she turned abruptly away 
and leaned toward her husband, pressing her lithe shapely body playfully 
against him, rubbing the tips of her upthrust breasts against his chest. 

"I suppose Carrol will be introducing him to you," Bill said. 

She shrugged and drank. "I suppose." She turned slowly, her gaze again 
panning over the informal gathering of people though now she scrupulously 
avoided the eyes of Jack O'Niel, that were still fixed rigidly upon her 
though their hostess had raised her voice and was obviously vying for his 
attention. "Maybe it will pick up," she said absently. "I feel like 
dancing." 

Bill Miller let his hand slip from his wife's arm. He trailed it lightly 
down her back on the outside of the black cocktail dress she wore, then 
downed half his own drink and also looked around. "It's still early," he 
said, but Isabel didn't reply. Already she'd started to move away and now in 
silence he watched her go, her slender body swaying musically as she walked. 
It was going to be a long night, he thought. But things doubtless would pick 
up, for Isabel at least. Sometimes Bill wondered why he even bothered to 
come to these parties they were always invited to on the weekend. Not that 
he didn't like to drink, and to be around people - it was just that nothing 
really ever happened. There was lots of small talk and flirting, for the 
most part banal and meaningless, and he would have much preferred just a 
night out with one other couple with whom they could talk about things more 
important than parlor room trivia that dominated these occasions. 

But that was where he and Isabel had always been different. Bill was, as he 
would be the first to admit, a serious quiet type. Isabel was outgoing and 
flirtatious. She needed attention, lots of attention, and he appreciated the 
fact that it was more than just her good looks that drew people to her and 
made her always the center of interest. He understood that need and was 
generally tolerant of it. He had long ago concluded that though the basic 
difference in their natures made them an unlikely couple, they were because 
of the variance between them a powerful combination together. 

Halfway across the room Isabel paused and turned back toward Bill, who had 
not followed her and who stood now where she had left him, pensively sipping 
his drink, looking slowly over the crowd with his familiar disdainful scowl. 
By midnight he would be drunk, she thought to herself. He would be silently 
and almost imperceptibly drunk, and with that control he always manifested 
no one but her would even know. Then finally he would have had enough and 
she would have had far too much, though that fact would be known only by 
everyone but her, and he would take her home, protesting, cursing perhaps, 
threatening him, yet all the time knowing that really it was exactly what 
she wanted. Even as she complained she would snuggle into the security of 
his determination. And by the time they were there, naked, snuggled together 
in bed, her protest would have ended, the party would be forgotten, and they 
would make love and be together, just the two of them, as though it was just 
the two of them in the whole world. 

Bill looked at her suddenly, sensing, as Jack O'Niel had sensed a moment 
ago, that he was being watched. Their eyes met and after a moment he smiled 
and came over to her. 

"Do you want to dance?" she said. "No" 

"I didn't think so." 

"You go ahead," he said. "Take off your dress if you want. That will liven 
things up." 

"Sometime I might do that." 

"I wouldn't be surprised," he said. Then his eyes strayed from hers and she 
turned to see that Eileen Tropper was approaching them. And past Eileen she 
saw Jack O'Niel, if it was in fact him, standing still where he was and 
still watching her. 

"Hello, kids. Glad you could come." 

"It's simply a marvelous party," Isabel said. 

Eileen put her hands on her waist and pretended to glare. As she did so Bill 
casually observed her breasts, revealed by her fashionably low-cut gown. 
They were bigger than Isabel's, milk-white, but not nearly so firm. He could 
almost see the pink coronas of her nipples and he wondered what it would be 
like going to bed with her. Not that it would ever happen. This just wasn't 
that kind of set, for all the small talk and teasing. And it never would be. 
Oh maybe there was a little behind-the-scenes adultery. There must be that 
everywhere. But it wouldn't ever come out in the open in this group. And 
even behind the scenes it would never be Eileen and himself. Then he 
wondered, absently, what he would do if he found out his wife was having an 
affair. 

"Come on," Eileen said. "I want to introduce you to a stranger. He used to 
be an Olympic swimmer and I told him you were on a swimming team in college 
and he said he wanted to meet you." 

"Male swimmers are egomaniacs," said Isabel, looking again at Jack O'Niel. 
Now for certain it was Jack O'Niel. "And he wasn't an Olympic swimmer 
anyway. He tried out for the team but didn't make it." 

"What difference does it make? Come on. He's a dream." She took Isabel's arm 
and tugged her. "You too, Bill. You'll like him too." 

Carrol Haynes emerged at that moment from the kitchen door. She was a small, 
big-breasted blonde, very good looking, though Bill always thought her the 
kind of woman who would look perpetually the easiest lay at the party. For 
that matter, she probably would be the easiest lay at this one. He'd thought 
about it, in fact. Isabel's best friend. He thought about it only when he 
was very drunk and sullen and Isabel had a string of horny men following her 
around. But it would never happen. It was just a fantasy. And now, watching 
Carrol's eyes shift from Isabel to Eileen to the blond guy against the far 
wall, then back to Eileen, he sensed that Carrol was realizing that she was 
about to have her own big moment usurped. 

She intercepted them at the middle of the room. "No you don't," she hissed 
at Eileen, though playfully, then took Isabel's hand in her own. "Come on, 
Isabel. Let me introduce you to my fiance." She said that and shot another 
sharp glance at Eileen, who along with Bill had fallen slightly behind. 

"Fiance?" said Isabel. 

Carrol leaned closed against her as they walked. "Well, almost. We talked 
about it this afternoon. But don't say anything yet." She looked over her 
shoulder. "Come on, Bill. I want to introduce you to Jack. You guys are 
going to have to be friends, you know." 

She winked. Eileen stopped and they moved away from her. Looking back, Bill 
saw she had gone over to the record player and was looking through the stack 
of albums. So much for the Tijuana Brass. Then, looking forward again, he 
saw Carrol's fianc''s clear cold blue eyes fixed on Isabel's. He saw the 
beginning of a grin that played on his lips, almost like a smirk. Moving 
forward, he saw Isabel glaring back. If she had smiled he wouldn't have 
minded. She always smiled. She was by habit as easy to meet as a puppy. 
Looking at Carrol, he realized she saw the difference too. Her lips were 
trembling as she made the introductions. Isabel shook hands and nodded. She 
tried to draw her hand away and he held to it. Bill started to move, but he 
didn't. He knew she didn't want him to. On the record player the music 
changed to rock and roll. 

"Let's dance," said Jack O'Niel. He looked at Bill. "You don't mind, do 
you?" 

"No," Isabel said, but he still held her hand. 

"I don't mind," Bill said without knowing why he'd said it. 

Isabel looked at him suddenly, her eyes widening, then narrowing almost to 
slits. She turned and let Jack O'Niel lead her by her hand, which he still 
held, to a clearing Eileen was making in the center of the room. Her body 
brushed his casually as they went there. When she turned, profiled to Bill, 
he saw that now she was smiling. He looked at Carrol as they began to dance. 
He saw the alarm in her eyes. 

* * * 

They drove home at midnight, following the moonlit highway along the beach 
back into the small ocean-side town south of L.A. where they'd bought their 
house. For more than half the distance they rode in silence, Bill focusing 
his attention on the driving, Isabel sitting rigidly in her seat beside him. 
Then, as they neared town, he sighed. 

"Why did you decide to leave?" he asked. 

"I thought you were ready to go. I always have to drag you." 

She said nothing. She looked straight ahead, and she remembered Jack 
O'Niel's hands on her body, the way he held her close as they danced, the 
way he looked into her eyes as they'd talked on the terrace and she'd waited 
for him to kiss her and he hadn't. 

"It was because of Carrol's friend," Bill said. 

"What?" 

"You wanted to leave because of O'Niel." 

"No. I wanted to leave because I wanted to make love to you." 

"Oh," Bill said and sighed again. A moment later they passed the cove and 
the lights of the town appeared before them. He braked as they passed the 
city limits marker and turned off onto the winding road that led to their 
house, then pulled into the drive and stopped. He turned off the ignition 
and twisted in his seat to look over at his wife, who was watching him 
silently. "You didn't even get drunk, did you?" 

"No," she said. "And you're drunker than usual. I know. Your left eyelid is 
drooping." Suddenly she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. "You're 
not too drunk to make love?" 

Bill shook his head. 

"Then come on," she said, turning away suddenly and opening the door. The 
sensuous brunette got quickly out of the car and rushed up the walk to the 
door, her heart pounding wildly in her breasts. She had a tingling feeling 
between her thighs, a gnawing need deep up in her belly, and all through the 
cat and mouse game that she and Carrol's "fiance" had played tonight at the 
part she could think of nothing but the time the night would end and she 
could be back home with Bill, naked in bed with him, relieving the hunger 
that tormented her in the way no one but him had ever been able to do. She 
had felt tonight as if she were flirting with catastrophe, or at least 
danger. Oddly, it hadn't felt all that different from the feelings she'd 
experienced seven years ago, when she was eighteen and innocent, and first 
getting serious with Bill. But that had happened in its place. This foolish 
play with Jack O'Niel was very out of place, an accident or something, she 
still didn't really know, and she felt a desperate compulsion to get things 
sorted back out. 

Breathing heavily, Isabel moved through the foyer and down the hall to the 
bedroom as she heard Bill getting out of the car and slamming the door on 
the driver's side. She pitched her purse into a chair and turned to face 
herself in the long dresser mirror. She stared coldly for a moment into her 
own black, now angry eyes, then slowly raised her arms, arching her 
half-revealed breasts as she removed the beret that held her long black hair 
in place and let it spill suddenly down over her bare shoulders. Then, just 
as Bill appeared in the door, she reached behind her back to undo the snap 
at the top of her dress, drawing the zipper quickly down before shedding the 
string straps from her shoulders to let it drop away loosely down her 
thighs, leaving her naked except for her flimsy bikini panties, garter belt 
and dark-knit nylon hose. 

Conscious of her husband's eyes on her, Isabel stared silently at herself in 
the mirror, her gaze moving slowly over her naked torso and the still 
proudly upstanding mounds of her breasts with the almost mauve-colored 
nipples peaking to instantly tingling rigidity. Then she let her gaze fall 
lower, down over the sleek plane of her belly and the dark little hole of 
her navel, down to the low hanging silken panties, near transparent so that 
through them she could just distinguish the shadowy V-shaped triangle of her 
black pubic hair nestled so invitingly between her sensuous slender thighs. 
She stared at her nakedness fixedly, almost hungrily, her awareness of her 
sex appeal only serving to increase the desire raging through her loins. 

In the doorway Bill frowned. Jesus, Isabel really was hot tonight. She was 
always demanding after a party. But there was something different in her 
attitude tonight. And though it troubled him, he felt an instantaneous 
stirring of desire in his loins manifested by a restless hardening of his 
cock in his trousers. The room was illuminated by only a soft lamp, casting 
a warm glow over the lush curves of Isabel's naked torso. Her nipples were 
peaked rigidly hard and he wanted to kiss and suck them. He wanted to kiss 
and suck over every inch of her naked body and without waiting another 
moment he moved quickly forward, coming up behind her to reach beneath her 
arms and cup both her full upstanding breasts in his hand before he turned 
her and stooped to cover one of the nipples with his lips and sink his teeth 
hungrily into the taut little bud, his tongue whipping teasingly over the 
sensitive tip. 

"Ooooooooh," Isabel purred, looking down through narrowed eyes at the 
manipulations of her husband's lips and tongue on the tingling and swollen 
little nipple. 

Again briefly she recalled the vaguely remembered feeling of danger she'd 
experienced the first time she'd allowed him to do this to her. Now that 
seemed so long ago, yet somehow that feeling had been recalled tonight at 
the party when she was dancing and flirting with her best girlfriend's 
fiance, and it seemed she felt more aware of her body and her sexuality than 
she had in a long time. She was trembling all over and the sensation of her 
husband's lips kissing and sucking her hard little nipples made her whole 
aroused body shudder with tingling sensuality as she felt the acutely 
maddening waves of pleasure pouring through her flesh. 

She couldn't deny that she'd been excited by her encounter with Jack O'Niel. 
And if that was wrong, soon everything would be made right. She was with her 
husband now. She loved him and only him. And she knew he was the only one 
who could really relieve the need raging out of control through her burning 
breasts and loins. 

Bill's hot slavering mouth remained locked on her swollen breast, his lips 
pulling and sucking eagerly at the rigid little bud of her nipple. And even 
as he continued to kiss and suck the flesh of her naked torso, she could 
feel his hands moving down her body, wrapping around her waist to pull her 
hardly protected loins against his own. Then, with a sudden gasp, he 
straightened up. He stared wild-eyed into her face, and in the look in his 
eyes she found something almost frightening. He was even drunker than she'd 
thought, and she realized that in spite of all his excitement he was angry 
at her for the way she'd carried on with Jack O'Niel. Perhaps he would never 
have admitted it, but she knew it was true. And she couldn't deny the little 
flutter of apprehension mingled with anticipation she experienced far up in 
her belly as she realized he was channeling the energy of that anger into 
his sex drive. 

Then suddenly his lips covered hers, crushing them against her teeth as his 
tongue shot deep into her open mouth and she felt the fingernails of one of 
his hands scratching almost painfully over the sensitive exposed skin of her 
back. He kissed her ruthlessly and with a vengeance, pulling her body 
forcibly against his own, crushing her with his almost savage strength. 
Then, as abruptly as he'd begun the kiss, he broke away, his hand seizing 
one of her biceps as he pulled her toward the bed and shoved her down onto 
it on a reclining position on her back. 

Isabel stared up through lust-narrowed eyes as Bill moved to the edge of the 
bed and looked down with hunger at her surrendered, near-naked flesh. A 
further tingle of delight coursed over her skin as he reached down to her 
upper thighs to unsnap the garter belt that held up her nylon stockings, 
then one by one pulled them down off her long slender legs. He hesitated 
again, hungrily surveying her lithe form now completely naked except for her 
thinly clinging little panties. Then, his breath coming in hoarse gasps, he 
kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto the bed beside her, again dropping 
his mouth to her exposed breasts to take one of her hard nipples between his 
teeth, his other hand moving up to cup and fondle the swollen orb until she 
moaned aloud with his every move. 

"Oooouuuu! That's sooo nice," the near-naked brunette whispered seductively 
as she felt her husband's teeth bite gently into her nipple. Then he 
increased the pressure until her whole torso shuddered, but at the same time 
she felt his hand begin to venture lower, coursing softly over the smooth 
plane of her belly, pausing at the sensitive little hole of her navel before 
his fingers inched down into the sparse curls of her pubic hair just at the 
top of the tight elastic waistband of her panties, moving at last right down 
beneath the little garment. 

Now Bill was really getting excited. He knew that as a result of the alcohol 
he'd imbibed he was going to have perfect control. His cock was already 
twitching to full erection in his trousers and he felt like he would be able 
to fuck all night. It was aching to be free, pushing almost painfully 
against the constricting material of his shorts, but he was determined to 
hold off until the moment was right. He didn't mind Isabel having a good 
time at the parties they went to, but tonight things had been different 
somehow. She was attracted to Jack O'Niel. That had been all too evident. 
And what she needed now was a really good fucking, and he was determined to 
hear her begging for his cock before he finally gave it to her. 

For several minutes Bill continued to tease and massage Isabel's softly 
haired pubic mound from inside her tightly clinging panties. It seemed to 
her that an eternity passed before his middle finger distended to move down 
into contact with the already hardened bud of her clitoris nestled at the 
top of the slit of her cunt, and she arched her buttocks up urgently as she 
felt it move finally lower along the length of her freely moistened little 
hair-lined cuntal lips. 

"Oooooh," the aroused brunette moaned as she wiggled her smoothly curved 
hips up from the bed, parting her thighs out wide to work the soft lips of 
her pussy eagerly up against Bill's cautiously probing finger. He let just 
the tip of it pop inside the warm little orifice, then quickly withdrew, 
teasing and frustrating her for a moment before he suddenly screwed the 
plundering digit straight up into the elastic-like little opening, driving 
relentlessly deeper and deeper into the clasping passage of her vagina until 
it was buried to the knuckle and his palm was pressed flat against her hot 
wet pussy. 

"Aaagggghh! Ooooohhhhh yesssssss!" Isabel moaned, her body arching stiffly 
up from the bed in response to the lewd invasion. 

Again Bill bit down on one of the hard buds of her nipples, prompting a 
further pained and passionate cry to well in her throat. Then as she 
quivered beneath his assault, he began to work his finger slowly in and out 
of the flowering tightness of her yielding pussy orifice. And as he 
continued and intensified his teasing finger-fucking rhythm, he used his 
other hand to tug gently at her panties, pulling them down the smoothness of 
her thighs to completely expose the triangle of her silken black cunt-hair 
to his lustfully hungering gaze. 

"Ooooh please," Isabel moaned almost incoherently as Bill shifted downward 
on the bed to tug the panties the rest of the way down her legs and off her 
ankles and toss them aside. Then quickly he moved his hands back between her 
thighs, pushing them out wide apart to completely expose the forbidden 
triangle of cunt. And as his finger wormed swiftly back up into the moistly 
yielding opening of her loins, he felt her hands begin to grope desperately 
at his body, tearing at the buttons of his shirt and pulling urgently to 
undo his belt. 

"Please Bill," she purred, a shudder shaking her naked body as he wiggled 
his finger deep up in her womb. "Take your clothes off. Take your clothes 
off and make love to me. Fuck me. Fuck me now!" 

Bill hesitated but a moment, maintaining his kneeling position over his wife 
on the bed, holding his finger thrust deep up in her cunt as he gazed down 
in triumph at her lust-contorted face. Then he withdrew the finger with a 
pop, relishing the gasp that rose to her lips in response, and quickly stood 
and began to remove his clothes. 

Isabel waited breathlessly, naked and spread-eagled in helpless surrender, 
the lust that surged through her body almost blotting all thoughts from her 
mind. She'd never seen Bill so aggressive. It seemed he was filled with a 
barely contained violence and she knew she had riled him tonight as rarely 
before. In a moment he was going to take out all his anger on her, and she 
watched with building anticipation as he pulled his shirt from his shoulders 
and let it drop to the floor. Then a little whimper of even greater 
anticipation rose spontaneously in her throat as in a single motion he 
pulled down both his trousers and boxer shorts and the hard-throbbing shaft 
of his cock jerked suddenly to freedom. My God, it looked bigger now than it 
ever had. It was a menacing, threatening instrument of flesh and in a way 
she'd never quite understood she'd always loved and feared it at once. She 
worshipped it, her husband's cock. Sometimes it had brought her pain, but it 
also brought her joy, and she longed to have it inside her, ripping her 
apart, punishing and taming her until she would know again, as she'd always 
known before, that he was the only man she could ever want. 

Isabel almost closed her eyes as Bill stepped out of his trousers and hers, 
his lips once more covering hers as she felt the distended and thickly 
swollen hardness of his cock prodding up between her legs. 

"Oh!" she gasped at the sudden pressure as he lunged forward, shoving it 
without warning straight up against the softness of her loins. "Easy," she 
whispered. "Go easy with me." 

Bill grinned, realizing his wife was frightened. Then, his own body 
quivering from his excitement and that pressed up between her thighs. She 
squeezed it tightly, levering it up and down along the tingling slit of her 
hair-lined pussy, at last fitting just the head right up between the 
forcibly parted lips as she felt Bill lunge forward again with even greater 
force. 

"Uuuugggghhhh! Aaaaggggghhhhh! Eeeeeaaaaa sssssyyyyy!" she whimpered, the 
hard violent penetration almost taking her breath away as the moved back 
toward the bed. She purred softly as she felt the mattress sag beneath his 
weight, as she felt his hands move again to her naked torso. A little gasp 
escaped her as he crushed his palms over her breasts, taking one of her 
nipples to roll it between his thumb and forefinger and tease it to even 
greater hardness. Then she sighed as he slid between her parted thighs, 
holding them out wide with his knees as he lowered his body on urgency, he 
pushed forward again, pressing the head of his lust swollen cock even harder 
against the quivering moisture of her loins. 

"Put it in!" he grunted, craning his neck to sink his teeth back into the 
soft flesh of one of her upper breasts as he felt her hand move down between 
their bodies to seek out and clasp the rigid hardness of his cock. 

Isabel writhed her buttocks gently, relishing the frightening power of the 
surging shaft of flesh blood-filled cock-head plundered into her cunt like a 
vicious shaft of steel. She still gripped it tightly, doing everything she 
could to restrain him until she could accustom herself. Then, as she felt 
the resistance give way, she let a low sigh escape from her throat. She sank 
back on the bed, her whole naked body relaxing as her pussy flowered eagerly 
open and the entire length of his penis drove unimpeded all the way up into 
her most secret pussy depths, embedding itself to the hilt into her lewdly 
skewered tightness. 

For a moment both of them lay perfectly still. She felt his muscular chest 
press hard against the voluptuous cushions of her breasts. She was 
completely filled and stretched and she was aware of every ridge and ripple 
of the hard male cock thrust all the way up into her tenderly cringing 
belly. The bushiness of his pubic hair pressed forcibly against the tingling 
bud of her clitoris and his sperm-bloated balls hung obscenely into the 
crack between her buttocks against the contracted little hole of her anus. 
Then he flexed deep up inside her, sending a shudder through her 
lust-wracked body, and as she entwined her arms about his back, pulling him 
even tighter to her, Bill began to move. 

He fucked his long thick cock diligently in and out of the tightly throbbing 
passage of her pussy, each skewering lunge prompting further shivers of 
obscene delight to go dancing over her naked flesh. He levered himself up on 
his elbows, staring down in triumph at her desire strained face, his hands 
moving back to her high-arched breasts to paw and maul them even more 
violently as he gradually increased the tempo of his shattering lunges up 
between her thighs. 

And as the last pain of his violent entry faded, replaced by a rejuvenation 
of the passion and want that had been building in her all through the night, 
Isabel began to respond. A stream of moans and whimpers issued from her lips 
as she began to arch and churn her buttocks, hunching eagerly back in 
response to Bill's wracking strokes. The flanged flesh-rimmed mouth of her 
pussy was elastic-tight about his blood-engorged penis and his pounding 
balls swung forward with every thrust to slap teasingly against the cringing 
hole of her puckered anus. His lust-hardened cock felt as if it was driving 
all the way up into her belly, and already she could feel the first waves of 
ecstasy surging through her loins from the wildly stimulating sensation and 
her tiny clitoris was palpitating with unabated desire. 

Gradually Bill increased his violent assault, thrusting with every lunge 
deeper and harder as Isabel bucked and tossed beneath him. He could see the 
lust-crazed delirium in her dazed, wide-open eyes. Her whole body had really 
come to life, and quickly he reached down beneath her hips with both his 
hands to clench tightly to her jerking buttocks, guiding her undulating 
movements and pulling them wider apart to even better expose her quivering 
little anus. He knew he was accomplishing his purpose. She'd forgotten 
everything but what was happening to her now. He was determined to reassert 
himself and his power over her, and with the control he derived from his 
drunken state he was able to fuck her with all his might and fury without 
worry about losing control. 

Then, seized by an even more wildly titillating idea, Bill suddenly worked 
the middle finger of his right hand even further up into the crack of 
Isabel's ass. Flicking it forward, he crossed the little membrane that 
separated her anus from her cunt, spreading a few slick drops of the oozing 
female lubricant back down over the tight little hole. 

Then, as Isabel quivered in astonishment beneath him, he pushed. 

"Oh!" the aroused brunette gasped in uncomprehending surprise. "Oh my God, 
Bill! What... what are you doing?" Isabel was completely confused by this 
new sensation. For a moment she couldn't even decide if it felt good or if 
it hurt, but the sheer stimulation was almost more than she could resist and 
she jerked her masochistically undulating buttocks even more wildly as a 
shattering wave of salacious pleasure and passion swept over her and she 
took the obscenely skewering finger all the way to the knuckle up into her 
cringing little anus. 

"Ooooooh yes!" she cried out deliriously as Bill began to drive his finger 
in and out of her anus in time with his plundering cock. "Yes, fuck me! Fuck 
me! Make me cum!" 

A moment later it began. The burning sensation in her anus intensified until 
she could hardly bear it, then seemed miraculously to merge with the sheer 
ecstasy she derived from the continued assault on her cunt. Her body tensed, 
her mind blanked. For a moment she didn't even know who she was, or where 
she was. She knew nothing but the consuming, blinding delight of the orgasm 
building in her loins. And then a memory flashed in her mind, a vision 
almost. She remembered the night she decided to let Bill take her virginity. 
She experienced again the excitement and fear she'd experienced that night. 
At the same time she heard a voice, a man's voice whispering softly in her 
ear: "You've got to keep trying new people all the time. Otherwise you go 
stale." It was Jack O'Niel's voice. He'd said that to her tonight when they 
were on the terrace. Then the vision was gone, the echo of the voice had 
faded. Above her she felt Bill launch a sudden hard wracking series of 
staccato thrust as his cum-swollen testicles relinquished their hold on the 
liquid that bloated them and his hot male sperm began its maddening dash up 
the elongated shaft of his cock. The head of his penis pulsed furiously up 
into her cunt as he drove into her to maximum depth, and his searing semen 
burst forth like a cannon shot to mingle with her own freely flowing vaginal 
fluids. 

Beneath him, Isabel seemed almost to levitate from the bed and she rocked 
and tossed her naked body in a frenzy of delight to the shattering waves of 
ecstasy that overcame her. She screamed and whimpered, her hands clawing 
wildly at his back as she basked in the dream world of her release, 
languishing as though on a cloud as spasm after spasm darted through her 
ravished loins. Their mutual climax seemed to go on and on, a 
soul-shattering explosion that lifted them out of themselves and faded 
slowly, with a sensation of gently and peacefully sinking. Then Isabel let 
her breath escape softly and Bill sagged down tiredly upon her, his cock 
still buried deep up in her loins. They lay like that for several moments, 
then gradually it began to deflate. He kissed her once, now softly, on the 
lips. Then slowly he withdrew and rolled off, lying still close beside her, 
reaching up with one of his hands to cup tenderly over her breasts. 

"Sleepy?" she whispered. 

"Yeah." 

"I love you," she said. She paused for a moment, remembering, then added: 
"Bill?" 

"Huh?" 

"Don't worry about Jack O'Niel. He's an... an asshole." She paused again. 
"Most of those guys are." 

 CHAPTER TWO 

The beach began just past the artificial break-water extending off the small 
peninsula of land that formed the cove around which the town was built. From 
here the winding strip of sand ran several miles down the coast. First one 
passed a cluttering of concession stands, selling curios or renting rafts, 
deck chairs and umbrellas. It was here that the largest number of people 
were congregated, and even topless sunbathing was forbidden by both custom 
and law. But farther along the people thinned out and on a weekday one could 
find a nice stretch of sand all to himself. Several miles farther on there 
was in fact a broad stretch of beach where nudity was the rule, though it 
was frequented mostly by hippies or students from Los Angeles. 

Isabel and Carrol opted for the central area, merely following the 
board-walk and, after it ended, the sandy little lane, until they came to a 
deserted area that would afford them some privacy. Clad in shorts and 
halters and carrying their towels in a straw bag, they descended and made 
their way down to the water. Carrol quickly removed both her halter and the 
flimsy bikini top she'd brought along in case of an emergency. Conscious of 
her girlfriend's eager exposure of her breasts, Isabel dallied slightly, 
carefully spreading out her towel on the sand, removing her own halter and 
shorts but still hesitating before she dispensed with the bikini top itself. 
She lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she gazed at the baking afternoon 
sun. Then in an almost impulsive kind of gesture, she reached suddenly up 
behind her back to unsnap the flimsy little garment, shedding the straps 
down off her arms to free the voluptuous upthrust mounds of her evenly 
suntanned breasts, feeling her mauve nipples swell to a tingling hardness 
from their contact with the air. 

"You liked Jack," Carrol said, still standing with her full ripe breasts 
faced toward the sun as Isabel dropped to her knees on her towel, looked 
cautiously around and then reclined on her back. 

"Yes, I guess," Isabel said, looking cautiously up at her friend. It was 
strange. She'd spent most of the night before last with Jack O'Niel and 
she'd never once thought that Carrol might be disturbed by it. But now she 
wondered. She knew Carrol had been through quite a string of men in the year 
and a half since she'd divorced her first husband, but she also knew the 
petite and voluptuous blonde was really taken this time. They hadn't really 
had a chance to talk about it much, for Carrol had been spending most of her 
time with him. But it just showed on her. 

Suddenly Carrol turned back to face the prone, near naked brunette. The 
blonde looked down at her own sensuously exposed body, as if to inspect her 
proudly upstanding breasts, and licked her lips thoughtfully. "He's not like 
other men. Jack. He's... I don't know what it is. He thinks for himself. I 
guess that's what I mean. Or maybe these character's I've been dating since 
Tony and I broke up have just generally been a bunch of creeps. What do you 
think?" 

"I don't know, Carrol," Isabel said frankly as the other woman bent to 
spread out her own towel, then sat down cross-legged in the middle of it. 

"Those guys, I could lead them around like they had rings in their nose." 
She stared into Isabel's eyes and the brunette sensed the coming 
proclamation. "I really went through a bunch of them. Too many I think. And 
you know what else I think? I think I was just doing it to get even with 
Tony. As soon as I got one of them hooked, I would drop him. And the 
put-down was half the fun. But with Jack it's different. I couldn't put him 
down if I tried. Not that I would ever want to. He's too strong for that. 
He's his own man." She paused, smiling faintly. "That's why I love him." 

"You do love him?" Isabel asked cautiously. 

"Of course I love him. Wouldn't you?" 

Carrol was looking at her in a way so demanding that Isabel felt compelled 
to avert her own eyes. But it was a question she couldn't even begin to 
answer. She might have flirted with Jack O'Niel. And perhaps, as much as she 
hated to admit it to herself, she was sexually attracted to him in some kind 
of school girl way. But she loved Bill. She thought surely he was the only 
man she could ever love. And for that matter, she found Jack O'Niel actually 
somewhat obnoxious, appealing as he might have been on a physical level. His 
arrogance riled her. It seemed based on an inbred conceit. Part of the 
reason she had spent so much time with him at the party was that she wanted 
to deflate the balloon of his pride. She had teased him, perhaps on a couple 
of occasions even ridiculed him, but he had remained undaunted and assured. 
She wondered what Carrol would think if she knew that he'd actually tried to 
arrange an afternoon meeting with her, for the express purpose of their 
going to bed. 

"And he loves me," Carrol added, though without apparent conviction. 

"Yes, I'm sure he does," Isabel added, and wondered immediately why she'd 
said it. She didn't believe it. And she couldn't imagine Jack ever actually 
marrying Carrol - or anyone else for that matter. 

A short silence followed as both girls were lost in their thoughts. Before 
them the Pacific was blue and almost calm, adorned with but an occasional 
white cap of a breaking wave. Seagulls glided on the clear sky, diving 
occasionally in search of a fish, and a sailboat appeared from behind the 
end of the break-water that protected the cove. 

"Have you ever been unfaithful to Bill?" Carrol asked suddenly, startling 
Isabel from her own inner reverie. 

"No!" she answered, surprised her friend had asked the question. 

"I didn't think so. Not since you've been married anyway." 

"That's right," the brunette admitted. "Not since we've been married. During 
the time we were broken up, that period right before we got engaged, I went 
to bed with two other men. Boys, I mean. Fraternity guys. But it was 
nothing." She sighed, looking down at her own naked breasts. "I guess I 
think about it sometimes, but I couldn't do it. Bill is the only man for me. 
Even if he had another woman once in a while, I still couldn't get 
interested in another man." 

"I guess he's good," Carrol said, "In bed. Jack is the greatest. He's a 
regular acrobat." 

For some reason Isabel blushed slightly at the image that suggested in her 
mind, and the remark was followed by another brief moment's silence, again 
interrupted by Carrol. 

"But he wants me to have other men." 

"What?" Isabel gasped, sitting up on her towel to stare with surprise at her 
friend. 

"I guess I would play around anyway," she went on. "Sooner or later. I 
played around on Tony every once in a while. But Jack's whole philosophy is 
different." 

"What do you mean?" 

"He loves me, Isabel," Carrol insisted, staring again into Isabel's eyes. 
"He really does. I know it. But he has this... I guess it's an ego problem. 
He says he has to keep trying new women. He says if he didn't do that, if he 
felt he had to be faithful to me, out of obligation to me, he would start to 
hate me for it. And I know that's true." 

Isabel reflected on what Jack had told her last night, the same statement 
that had flashed so vividly in her mind later when she and Bill were making 
love. Now things were beginning to fall together. And she sensed intuitively 
that Carrol was in danger of being hurt very bad. Jack O'Niel was already 
trying to make an arrangement with her, a very unorthodox arrangement, and 
there was no telling what would happen next. Certainly he wouldn't expect 
Carrol to put up with his sleeping with her best friend, even if under 
pressure she did agree in principal with his philosophy about the sexual 
relationship. 

"And I think he's right," Carrol added after a moment. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I don't care if he has other women. I don't. He could do it right in front 
of my eyes as long as I knew I would get my share later. And pretty soon, I 
guess, I will find another man who attracts me a little and even the score, 
which is what he says has to happen for this to work." She paused, biting 
her lip, again looking intently at Isabel. "And I'm glad he wants it this 
way. I am. I think he's right. It's the perfect relationship, and I want him 
to have anybody he wants." 

Isabel smiled in spite of her concern. Carrol was so easy to see through 
sometimes. And now she was absolutely transparent. And she just couldn't 
resist her next remark: "You mean... ? What would you think, say, if I went 
out with Jack?" 

Carrol frowned suddenly, her face reddening. Then she caught herself and 
managed a feeble smile. "I think that would be a great idea. If I can't 
share him with my best friend, how can I ever share him with strangers?" The 
blonde paused gazing winsomely out over the water as Isabel watched her with 
mingled sadness and amusement. Then she looked back suddenly. "In fact, I 
know Jack would like that too. Don't think I wasn't aware of what was going 
on last night. I even had the feeling he was testing me. And this way I can 
really pass the test." She sucked in her breath. "I'll fix it up myself, for 
some afternoon this week." 

"Fix what up?" 

"I'll arrange a time for you and Jack to meet. In the afternoon." The blonde 
paused again, her voice almost faltering, then went on courageously. "I 
mean, if I can't share him with... with my friends, my best friend, like I 
said before, who can I share him with? " 

"But I don't want to share Jack with you," Isabel insisted. "I wouldn't 
think of sleeping with him. I told you: I'm not sleeping with anybody but 
Bill, and that's that. I don't even want to go out with him. I was just 
teasing to see what you'd say." 

"You weren't teasing," Carrol said. "And I'm going to fix it up for you. I 
am." 

She's still blushing, Isabel thought as she studied the blonde's determined 
face. But still she was surprised to hear her own voice calling the bluff. 

"All right. Let's see then. One afternoon next week will be perfect." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Jack O'Niel maneuvered his Jaguar XKE skillfully along the coast highway 
south, gearing down as he went into the curves, gunning the engine as he 
emerged on the straights. Beside him, Isabel relished the feel of the wind 
in her face, her free flowing long black hair whipping over her bare arms 
and shoulders, the sheer excitement of the speed itself. She still couldn't 
quite believe this whole outing was really taking place. It had been merely 
her spirit of competition that had prompted her to call Carrol's bluff in 
the first place, but at that time she'd still had no intention of carrying 
through. But she'd gotten into the game, and she'd found it impossible to 
get out. 

Odd, she thought, that it had finally been Carrol's insistence that prompted 
her to come. She remembered the look on her friend's face, Tuesday, the day 
before yesterday, when she'd gone over and told her that she'd just been 
teasing and that she could not under any circumstances go out with Jack 
O'Niel. "You've got to, Isabel," Carrol had said. "I told him about it. If 
you back out now he'll blame it on me." 

"But it's not your fault," Isabel had said. "I'm a married woman. I can't go 
running around with another man, particularly your... fiance." 

"Jack doesn't care if you're married." 

"Jack doesn't care?" Isabel had blurted. 

"And it's just because he is my fiance that you have to go. Do it for me. If 
you back out, he will think it was me who made you do it. It's already built 
a tension between us and I want it to resolve itself." Isabel remembered the 
look in Carrol's eyes as she paused before going on: "It's got to resolve 
itself. I can't stand the thought of losing him." 

And she had wondered, seeing Carrol's desperation, what magic it was that he 
could have possessed to make her need him that badly. She wondered if any 
man could really be that good in bed. 

And she'd wondered the same thing this morning after breakfast, when for the 
first time in their four years of marriage she'd consciously and 
intentionally told her husband a lie. 

Bill Miller was a junior partner in a progressive-oriented North Hollywood 
law firm. His partners were not much older than him, liberal and easy going. 
The senior partner, in fact, wore his hair to his shoulders and was as quick 
to accept a cause as a paying case. But the firm was already beginning to 
make a reputation and it was a stepping stone for Bill. It also allowed him 
to manage his time much more flexibly than if he'd been in insurance or some 
other more ordinary field. Quite often he spent only a few hours in court or 
at the office, then found himself free for the rest of the day. She could 
never know when he might turn up at home. Isabel, of course, was free to 
come and go as she wished. He didn't demand that she account for her every 
hour. Yet for some reason she'd felt compelled to make an excuse for today, 
and she'd almost tripped on her own tongue this morning as she'd done so, 
hesitantly telling Bill that he shouldn't be surprised if he saw her in L.A. 
that afternoon, as she and Carrol were driving up to the city to visit 
Carrol's mother. 

Bill had displayed not the slightest bit of suspicion. And there was no 
reason he should have. He'd merely kissed her, told her to be careful and 
have a nice time, then walked out the door and across the yard to the drive, 
gotten into his car and left. And she had stood, framed in the doorway in 
her clinging bathrobe, held loosely together in front with a sash, staring 
almost bitterly after him. His total trust, his absolute lack of suspicion, 
had in fact disappointed her. She still didn't quite understand the thought 
process involved, but it was as if she resented his trust, as if she 
expected that he, the man she loved, should sense her he. She would have 
been relieved, she knew now, if he had looked back at her and said: "No. 
You're not going to see Carrol's mother. You're slipping out with Jack 
O'Niel. And I'm not going to stand for it." 

But there would have been no reason for him to say that. There was no reason 
for him to suspect anything. And granted that he knew and understood her 
well, she couldn't expect him to read her mind. 

* * * 

"I hope you like abalone steak," Jack said, gearing down again to slow the 
Jaguar as a large seafood restaurant loomed up before them on the side of 
the road. 

"Abalone?" Isabel said. "I never heard of a restaurant that serves abalone?" 

"They don't, ordinarily. But the chef, Mario, is an old friend of mine. I 
went diving this morning and got some really nice ones. He cleans them and 
does them up, along with some of the best Italian polenta you ever had." 

Jack swung the sport scar off onto the gravel, pulled to a stop and killed 
the ignition. He got out and came around to open the door for Isabel, and 
though she shied away slightly at the first contact, he rested his palm on 
the small of her back as he guided her into the spacious, tastefully 
decorated dinning room. 

Isabel couldn't help but be impressed with the service they got. The 
delightful little bald-headed chef paid special attention to their table and 
the thick white steaks, which Jack explained came from a kind of large 
mollusk found only off California, were indeed delicious. Along with the 
tasteful cheese-topped polenta, they were washed down with two full bottles 
of an excellent California Chablis, and by the time dinner was over Isabel 
was feeling very light-headed and relaxed. 

"Now a cognac," Jack said. "Oh no. I really couldn't." 

"Sure you can." He turned and snapped his fingers toward the kitchen. 
"Mario... " 

As they emerged from the restaurant a few minutes later and walked back to 
the car Isabel felt Jack's hand again move to the small of her back, then 
slip around her waist, and though again she felt inclined to shy away, this 
time she did not. He opened the door and let her in, then moved around and 
resumed his place in the driver's seat. 

"Two-thirty," he said, consulting his watch. "My place is north of La Jolla. 
We can be there in less than an hour." He smiled, his eyes descending 
momentarily to the full swells of Isabel's shapely breasts, straining 
against the material of her sleeveless blouse and the tightly constricting 
brassiere she wore. "I've got an Olympic size pool, almost." 

Isabel shook her head. "Oh no. I don't even have my suit." 

"Don't need one. There's a high wall I had built especially for girls like 
you. And I never wear a suit myself if I'm not swimming in public 
competition." 

The brunette managed a nervous laugh, her eyes moving curiously over Jack's 
torso where his toned muscles strained against his tight knit T-shirt. She 
compared his body to Bill's in her mind. Bill had an attractive physique, 
lean and spare, but there was little similarity. She preferred Bill's body, 
of course. She preferred Bill's to anyone's, because Bill was the man she 
loved. But she did find Jack O'Niel's body interesting. Just interesting, 
that was all. Then she shook her head suddenly, snapping out of the reverie 
that she thought could only have been inspired by the amount of wine she'd 
drunk. "I really have to get back home. My husband will be home soon. He'll 
worry about me." 

Jack looked deeply into her eyes. He smiled. For a moment she thought he was 
going to kiss her and she was wondering what she would do if he did. Then, 
instead, he just reached up and put two of his fingers to her lips. "Some 
other time." 

She didn't say no to that, and as they pulled back onto the road and started 
north she was wondering why she hadn't said no. Her whole mind was in a 
jumble and she was wondering why, if she had to come on this outing for 
Carrol's sake, she hadn't just explained to Bill. If she had explained to 
him, maybe he would have stopped her. Or even if he hadn't stopped, if in 
his understanding way, his tolerance, he had said, "All right, go on if you 
want to. But be careful and keep your head." If he had said that, she 
thought, then maybe she would have still come, but everything would have 
been different. Maybe there wouldn't have been this confusion in her own 
mind, because if she had told Bill, explained to him that her only motive 
was Carrol's well-being, or at least Carrol's concept of what would be for 
her well-being, then she, Isabel, would at least be sure of her motive. But 
now she had lied. She had lied to Bill for the first time, except perhaps 
for a little white lie, meaning nothing, here and there. And perhaps she was 
lying to herself, thinking these thoughts, wondering if Jack O'Niel was 
going to kiss her, wondering about his body as if it were some kind of piece 
of meat on display, feeling this sense of danger, this familiar old sense of 
the unknown, this intrigue she had not experienced in so long. 

Isabel was so lost in her thoughts that she wasn't even aware as Jack slowed 
the Jaguar, then swung off a dirt road that ran for a short distance 
parallel to the highway. She only became conscious of the maneuver as the 
dirt road turned sharply and angled down an incline toward a small, rugged 
little cove. 

"Where... where are we going?" she said, looking sharply around. 

Then she stiffened, but still didn't resist, as Jack took one of his hands 
from the steering wheel and lay it beneath her long hair on the back of her 
neck. "Nice, private little place here," he said, grinning at her. "We're 
going to stop for a while." 

Looking back, Isabel saw that they'd already descended far enough that they 
were obscured from view of the highway. Then the road leveled and at last 
came to an end, where Jack pulled the Jaguar to a stop parallel to the edge 
of the bluff overlooking the water. His hand still rested on the back of her 
neck, and as she turned to look back at him in shock and apprehension he 
pulled her gently but forcibly toward him. 

Too stunned to move, Isabel did not resist. And before she realized what was 
happening Jack's lips covered tenderly over her own and his hand slipped 
down into the back of the neck of her sweater, his fingers teasing along her 
sensitive upper spine as his tongue parted her lips and slipped between her 
teeth. 

She let him kiss her. She stared into his face, her eyes open wide with 
surprise, her body almost limp as the pressure of his mouth against hers 
increased, as his tongue sank deeper and deeper toward her throat. Then, 
seeming only belatedly to come to her senses, she stiffened, then suddenly 
jerked back, her black flashing eyes going wild as she emphatically shook 
her head. 

"No! No, no, no! Take me home. Take me home right now!" 

He just looked at her in silence. Staring back at him was like staring at a 
statue with marbles for eyes. Her drawing away from him had resulted in his 
hand slipping back out of her sweater and dropping from her body, but now he 
reached forward again to place it on her leg, on the sensitive exposed skin 
of her lower thigh just at the hem of the skirt she wore. And as he touched 
her there, a spontaneous little shiver seemed to course through her whole 
willowy, lushly formed body. 

"You liked that," he said. "You want more." 

Now she was shaking her head but weakly. She was utterly confused by the 
feelings surging through her body, the nervous pounding of her heart, the 
fluttering in her belly, the tingling in the tips of her breasts. She was 
excited. The pure physical attraction of his body, his body that for her was 
new and strange and different, excited her. The fear raging in her belly was 
also a kind of excitement. Even her knowledge that what she was doing was 
not only wrong but foolish only added to the thrill. But somehow she had to 
deny all that. She just had to. She was married to Bill and it was Bill she 
loved. And as if that wasn't enough, the man now staring so confidently into 
her frightened eyes was the lover of her own best girl friend. 

"No," she said again, now in hardly more than a whisper. 

Then slowly the corner of Jack's mouth changed its shape. It was just the 
slightest curling of his lips, to begin that same irritating smile that 
looked in fact more like a smirk. And as Isabel continued to feebly shake 
her head, he reached up with his other hand, brushing it softly against the 
fullness of her breast as he slipped it beneath her arm and around her back. 
Then, though she tried to hold back, he pulled her to him again, squeezing 
her slender torso, crushing her breasts with his muscular chest as he kissed 
her hard and hot with his mouth wide open, his tongue probing and searching 
eagerly into hers. 

In spite of herself Isabel moaned in response. In his strong arms she felt 
light as a feather, and something was happening in her body over which she 
had no control. Her breasts were mashed down almost painfully by his hard 
pectoral muscles, and she could feel the little nipples swelling and 
tingling inside her tightly constricting brassiere. Jack's fingers were 
digging ruthlessly into her back from the outside of her sweater. His other 
hand still rested on her thigh and was now beginning to creep slowly upward 
beneath her skirt. 

For a moment Isabel languished in a limbo of immobility and indecision. Then 
with a desperate effort, she jerked her face away from Jack's and again 
violently shook her head even as he still held her body tightly against his 
own. "No," she cried. "You've got to stop." 

He turned her lose and she almost collapsed forward in the seat, so 
completely had she been resting her weight on him. 

Straightening up, she stared at him with even greater confusion. And he 
smiled back with confidence, seemingly becoming every moment more assured 
that his conquest would be complete. Then he reached down to seize Isabel's 
sweater just at her waist, and as she again set almost immobilized by her 
confusion and shock, he pulled it up her body. Only at the last minute did 
she have the presence of mind to clamp her arms against her side to prevent 
him from lifting it completely over her head. She stared down in 
astonishment at her half-exposed breast, now protected by nothing but the 
flimsy cups of her brassiere. And as she did so, Jack moved his hands 
quickly over the two full, high-standing orbs, slipping his thumbs beneath 
the stretch cups to lift them off the rounded mounds, pushing them up to 
completely expose the two ripe, nipple peaked hills. 

"Oooooooooh!" Isabel moaned as his fingers brushed back over the sensitively 
rounded flesh, the contact with her bare nipples causing them to swell to 
instant rigidity. Then he leaned quickly forward, taking one of the hard 
little buds between his teeth, biting down on it so forcibly that she cried 
out in a mingling of pain and lust-aroused excitement. 

Sensing his advantage, Jack pushed forward, shifting his lips to Isabel's 
other breast to lick and suck that nipple to equal hardness. At the same 
time he roved his hands eagerly over the sensitive skin of her almost 
completely exposed torso, his fingers dancing down the sensitively indented 
line of her spine, his other hand mauling ruthlessly over the breast even as 
he sucked and bit at the nipple. 

"Jack, don't," Isabel managed weakly, staring down in dismay at the 
continued oral manipulations of his lips and teeth on the precious little 
bud of her nipple. But even as she pretended to protest, she was arching her 
back as though to push the sensitive flesh-tip even deeper in his mouth, and 
it was all she could do to prevent herself bringing her hands up into his 
thick blond hair and hugging his handsome face to her bosom. She was on the 
verge of letting herself go. She knew it. She recognized her temptation and 
knew that it had been with her since the first time she'd seen this man. It 
was not even that she liked him. She just wanted him. He was a sex object, 
an active sex object, an instrument of flesh who could fulfill a need that 
existed in her completely independent of her love for Bill. And if she gave 
in to him, she thought in her delirious mental state, she would not be 
denying or weakening that love. Her love for Bill would never die. In a 
strange sort of way, she thought now that by the variety of her experience 
her love for Bill would only be strengthened. 

Then suddenly Jack straightened up. As she stared at him feverishly, he 
smiled and kissed her again on the lips, his hands continuing to forcibly 
cup and massage her breasts as he did so, then moving down her smooth bare 
belly, down across the material of her skirt and up between her slightly 
parted thighs, almost to the crotchband of her panties that were the only 
thing between his searching fingers and the flesh of her forbidden pussy 
itself. 

Then, as the contact was about to be made, Isabel came to her senses again. 
Her body stiffened. It seemed a bright light flashed in her eyes. The hand, 
moving up between her thighs was like a hot iron searing over her flesh. She 
felt as if she were being attacked by a demon, as if the attack was not just 
upon her body, but as if her spirit, her way of life, everything of meaning 
she had to live for was under siege. And the cry that rose in her throat 
could have been an answer to the devil himself: "No! Goddamn it, I said no! 
Get away from me!" 

Stunned, Jack O'Niel let his hand slip from beneath Isabel's skirt. He drew 
back slightly, staring in confusion at her glaring eyes, at her still almost 
completely exposed torso, at the fully rounded mounds of her breasts 
standing up full and proud before his eyes. She looked as if she'd gone mad. 
Her long black hair was tangled by the wind. Her sultry lips were quivering. 
Her eyes were wide, glossed over, her cheeks flushed red. And minutely she 
was trembling, her whole body trembling as if secretly agitated from inside, 
tensed, as if any moment she would explode. 

The pose was held for a time he couldn't have even defined. Then in a sudden 
motion she spun around in the seat, yanking the two cups of the stretch-bra 
back down over her breasts, drawing the sweater off the tops of them and 
back down to her waist. She sat still and stiff, staring straight ahead out 
the front window. And when she spoke it was hardly more than a whisper: 
"Take me home. Take me home right now." 

Jack sighed. Then he shrugged and shifted around in his own seat. He started 
the ignition, shifted into reverse gear, but hesitated before letting off 
the clutch. Then he looked back at her and grinned. 

"Isabel." She turned her head slowly. "I'll take you home now. I guess you 
need a little time to get used to the idea of cheating on hubby. But think 
it over." He paused. "Next time, we won't stop." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

After her shocking encounter with Jack O'Niel, Isabel hardly knew how she 
was going to face Carrol again. But she did have a slight reprieve, as the 
lie she'd told her husband Bill did have a basis of truth. Carrol had driven 
to Los Angeles to visit her mother that day, and to Isabel's relief, she'd 
not gotten back when she and Jack pulled into her drive. Jack said he had a 
key and that he would wait for her inside. Isabel declined his invitation 
that she join him, said an abrupt goodbye, and walked the two blocks to her 
and Bill's place. Her husband hadn't returned when she got there, but he 
came in a short while later. To his question as to how she'd enjoyed her day 
in the city she merely shrugged, averted her eyes and said, "Oh, nice 
enough." 

The next afternoon Carrol called up and invited her over. She felt she 
couldn't refuse. But she went only with the greatest resignation, certain 
Carrol would eventually get around to grilling her about what had happened 
between her and Jack, and still entirely uncertain as to how she would 
respond. But to her surprise, Carrol was in high spirits and seemingly 
completely unconcerned. She served them iced tea and remarked that Jack said 
they'd had lunch at Mario's. She commented on how much she'd enjoyed it the 
few times she'd eaten there, then chatted briefly about, of all things, her 
mother. Then she fell silent, and gradually a secretive smile crept over her 
face. It was a look Isabel knew well. It meant she was about to make an 
announcement of some kind. 

"Jack wants the four of us to spend Sunday afternoon at his place. He told 
you about it," he said. 

"What?" For a moment Isabel didn't know what her friend was talking about. 

"The four of us, Sunday," Carrol repeated. 

"The four of who?" 

"Him and I and you and Bill. He's got a really beautiful place, down above 
La Jolla. With a big pool and the most wonderful bar. And with a stretch of 
private beach running in front of it so you can swim there if you prefer. 
His parents were killed when he was a child and he was raised by a great 
uncle who made a fortune in oil or something. It's his place really, but 
Jack lives there summers." 

Isabel was hardly even listening. She was asking herself the same question 
over and over, silently in her mind: Now why would Jack want to invite Bill 
to his place? And the obvious answer that kept popping into her mind was 
that yesterday he'd just been trying her out, and that in spite of what he'd 
said as they were about to leave the cove where they'd parked, he was taking 
her refusal as final. 

"Well, what do you say?" 

Isabel stared at her friend silently for a moment. "Why would he want to 
invite me and... and Bill to his place?" She should have been relieved, she 
was thinking. She should have been relieved and instead she was, initially 
at least, somehow disappointed. 

"When Jack and I are married... Well, you are my best friend. It's naturally 
going to be that the four of us will spend a lot of time together. He wants 
to get acquainted. And he just likes having people around. You know me, I 
don't have that much to talk about and even Jack can't ball twenty-four 
hours a day. Besides, he says he was watching Bill at the party that night. 
He says he admires him." 

"Admires him?" 

Carrol laughed. "Well what's so funny about that. He says he likes men like 
Bill, the 'sturdy, silent types'." 

"Oh." 

"You will come?" 

Isabel hesitated. Something still seemed fishy about it. For a minute she 
was reminded of an article she'd read about a practice that had become 
remarkably common, according to certain surveys, among young married couples 
during the last few years. Wife-swapping, it was termed. But she ruled that 
possibility out almost as quickly as she'd thought of it. Even Jack wouldn't 
have the nerve to try to make that kind of arrangement with Bill. Bill 
wasn't the type, and anybody could see it. So he was giving up, she thought. 
After one try he was giving up. And the irony of it all, she realized, 
experiencing an acute fluttering deep in her stomach, was that if he had 
kept after her long enough he could have had her. In spite of Bill, in spite 
of her friendship with Carrol, in spite of everything Jack O'Niel could 
finally have gotten to her. And this, she realized, could be her salvation. 
If Jack and Bill became friends, then there would be no question of anything 
happening between him and her. 

"Well?" Carrol asked. 

"I'll talk to Bill. I'll try to get him to come." 

Walking home that evening, Isabel wondered, and it was not without a twinge 
of disappointment, why Jack had changed his mind. 

* * * 

They made the drive in separate vehicles, Jack and Carrol leading in his 
Jaguar. It was a warm and cloudless day, perfect for swimming, and Isabel, 
riding with Bill in their station wagon, wore her skimpiest bikini beneath 
her minidress. It was fortunate, she reflected, that she'd mentioned her 
choice of bathing suits to Carrol. Her friend had pointed out that she never 
wore anything while swimming at Jack's. There was a wall around the pool and 
he had his own stretch of private beach. But to Isabel's insistence, Carrol 
had finally agreed to put on a bikini. Bill, she had pointed out, would 
never stand for her bathing naked in the presence of another man. "Oh 
Isabel," Carrol had said. "He's not that square." 

"Yes he is," Isabel said. "You don't know him like I do." 

They arrived about two. The house, which sat on a knoll of grassy land about 
fifty yards back from the beach, was not at all the modern place Isabel 
would have expected. Two-stories tall, with a steep slanting shingled roof 
extending a considerable distance higher, it was built of wood, white 
painted but now weathered almost gray, fronted by a spacious, screened-in 
porch furnished with several antique rockers, and surrounded by a picket 
fence. Jack pointed out that it had been built about the turn of the 
century. The swimming pool, enclosed in a high board fence, was a new 
addition of course, and the interior, in contrast to the shabby, or even 
haunting exterior, had also been redone, though the decor and furnishings 
remained tastefully in keeping with the date of its original construction. 

Jack proudly showed them around and Isabel was glad to note that he and Bill 
chatted amiably about the Victorian style architecture. He pointed out that 
it was a great place for parties. Bill thought the main salon, from which 
the ceiling had been removed to afford a view of the beams and the 
steep-slanting roof itself, created somewhat the effect of an old cathedral. 
Then they ascended an almost spooky stairway to make a quick tour of the 
second floor, which featured several luxurious old bedrooms, though at 
present only two of them were actually furnished. Bill went into one to 
inspect and antique armoire and while his attention was taken Jack touched 
Isabel gently on the arm to get hers. He tapped the wall-paneling at the end 
of the corridor and said softly: "This, believe it or not, is a door to a 
secret passage leading into the attic." Without further elaboration he 
ushered them back downstairs and out to the pool, where Carrol had already 
served them tall icy drinks on an old round wooden table. 

Jack was the first to remove his clothes and Isabel was glad to see that 
Carrol had apparently warned him that she'd insisted they wear suits. The 
blonde stripped off next, and though she did have a bikini beneath her 
dress, it was so flimsy and skimpy that it concealed almost nothing of her 
voluptuous young body. Then Isabel shed her own miniskirt and Bill got out 
of his clothes, and in moments the four of them were frolicking in the 
water. 

The afternoon moved lazily by. As the time passed, Isabel became more and 
more convinced that she'd guessed right. Jack O'Niel seemed to be making 
every effort to make friends with her husband, and she saw signs in Bill's 
attitude that he did have a grudging respect for the other man's charm and 
outgoing way. She was relieved, yet at the same time she experienced an 
undeniable let-down. She had felt herself in danger ever since she'd met 
Jack at Eileen's party last week. But the danger was adventure, and now it 
seemed she was returning to her old staid existence. And aside from her 
personal feelings, she was basically just disappointed with Jack on a 
broader level. Though she had been apprehensive of him, resentful even, 
she'd taken some kind of consolation in the knowledge that there were men 
like him around, as she conceived him to be, that is. She'd built up in her 
mind an image of him, an image of a kind of rebellious megalomaniac, a man 
who lived hedonistically and without regard for such superficially imposed 
limits as the contract of marriage. And he was not fulfilling his image. Not 
that he didn't pay her any attention. On several occasions she'd caught him 
looking at her that same way he'd looked the first time she'd seen him. That 
same lust and self-assurance was written all over his face. But she just 
couldn't believe that now that he was making friends with Bill he still had 
any intention of trying to seduce her. Nor was it that she had any plan of 
allowing him to succeed if he had tried. 

She just hadn't wanted him to give up so soon. 

They alternately swam and drank from a large pitcher of Spanish sangria Jack 
had made for the occasion. Carrol seemed particularly delighted, and Isabel 
realized her friend must be making about the same assessment of the 
situation as she. The blonde was immensely relieved, and Isabel confirmed 
that in spite of her denials she had in fact been worried that something was 
going to happen between her and Jack. Well, she concluded gloomily, it was 
probably all working out for the best. Of course it was all working for the 
best. But it would at least have been fun to play around with the idea of 
adultery for a while longer, even if she didn't have any intention of 
actually doing it. 

Isabel drank to raise her own spirits and managed to put on a face that hid 
her disappointment. She was now able to make an even more careful physical 
comparison between Jack and her husband. She concluded that she liked them 
both still, each in her way. She was beginning to feel the effects of the 
alcohol and for some reason the idea struck her as very funny. Sitting at 
the table with a glass in her hand, watching Bill sun on the edge of the 
pool and Jack and Carrol playing in the shallows at the far end, she began 
to laugh. It was an ironic, almost pathetic, self-pitying laughter. It went 
unnoticed, as Jack was at that moment tickling Carrol and she was laughing 
even louder. Then Carrol's laughter ceased. Isabel's continued for a moment 
before she stopped also. The moment froze in her mind. She saw Jack looking 
at her, that same grin that resembled a smirk adorning his ruggedly handsome 
face. She saw Carrol looking at her, hurt and alarm in her eyes. She saw 
Bill, his eyes closed, as though he slept, lying prone on his back still in 
the same place at the end of the pool. 

And she knew everything in that moment had changed. 

Then Jack left Carrol where she was. He climbed out of the water, his 
muscles rippling as he hoisted himself to the edge of the pool, and walked 
toward her. Isabel watched him, her heart pounding furiously in her breasts, 
then shifted her gaze to her friend, still looking back in the same 
desperate, wounded way. 

"Let's try the ocean," he said. 

"What?" 

"Come on. We're going for a swim." 

Isabel opened her mouth to say no and not a sound came out. From the corner 
of her eye she saw that Bill had sat up and was watching her, and she turned 
her head and looked at him almost desperately. He shrugged and smiled. "Go 
ahead. I don't mind." 

Jack reached down and took her wrist, pulling her firmly to her feet. Isabel 
met Carrol's gaze for another brief instant. Then she looked blank faced at 
Bill. Then she turned and walked toward the gate, hearing Jack's feet on the 
stones behind her. 

Isabel thought she could feel the man's eyes searing into the naked skin of 
her back as she led the way down to the water, but she did not turn to look 
back. In one instant her sense of adventure and danger had all returned. She 
knew only too well from that look in Jack's eyes that he had more in mind 
than swimming, and she guessed that he must have made it equally obvious to 
Carrol. Again she thought of the article she'd read about wife-swapping. She 
wondered how she would react to the idea of something going on between her 
own husband and her own best friend. She tried to imagine how that would 
make her feel. But it was beyond her wildest fantasies. She just couldn't 
picture it, not Bill and Carrol together. 

Then, reaching the edge of the water rolling in on the sand, Isabel began to 
run. The ocean was considerably colder than the pool and was somewhat of a 
shock, but she pushed onward, stepping as high as she could to clear the 
waves with her feet. Then at last she sprawled forward into the white caps 
of foam, beginning to swim with long smooth strokes, gliding over the choppy 
surface as she heard Jack splash into the water beside her. 

"Little under-tow, but not too bad," he said, moving up to swim beside her. 
Employing an Australian crawl he surged quickly ahead, and with her 
experience as a swimmer Isabel couldn't help but marvel as to how adept he 
really was. He must have been at least ten years past his college prime, but 
he looked to be in almost perfect form. 

They swam for perhaps a quarter of a mile, straight out into the Pacific. 
Jack had pulled twenty yards ahead of her, but made no attempt to increase 
his lead. At last he stopped, treading water as he waited for her to catch 
up. 

"Tired," he asked, riding up on the crest of a two-foot wave that caught 
Isabel full in the face. 

"A little," she gasped. 

He swam to her, easily treading water. Beneath the surface she felt his 
hands brush over her breasts on the outside of her bikini top, then slip 
behind her back. With a deft motion of his fingers he undid the snap and 
pulled the skimpy garment away to completely expose the lush ripeness of her 
breasts. 

"Jack!" Isabel squealed, laughing in spite of herself. 

"Follow me," he said, taking the bikini-top between his teeth by the strap 
and starting to swim in long strong strokes back toward the shore. 

"Don't lose that," she cried, setting out after him. 

The muscular blond man easily beat Isabel into the beach. As she at last 
touched her feet to the bottom and waded in to where the water just came to 
the tips of her nakedly tingling little nipples, he stepped onto the dry 
sand and turned, waving the bikini top triumphantly. "Come on," he called, 
motioning with a jerk of his head. 

Reclining forward, Isabel swam in a few more paces, then paused, now 
kneeling, keeping her breasts hidden beneath the waves. "Throw it, Jack. 
Please. What if Bill comes out and sees me." 

"He's seen them before," Jack said with a laugh, then turned and started 
away up the beach. 

Waiting where she was, Isabel watched him go. Then, for the first time, she 
noticed the little wood shed sitting at the edge of the sand where the grass 
began and the land started to rise. That was where he was going, she 
realized, and she could guess all too easily what he had in mind if she 
followed. But she didn't know what choice she had. She could hardly go back 
to the house and tell Bill she'd lost her bikini top accidentally in the 
waves. Not that it couldn't happen, but he would never believe her. 

Exasperated, Isabel lingered in the water for a moment longer. She gazed up 
past the house to the fence that enclosed the pool, relieved at least to see 
that Bill and Carrol hadn't emerged. Then, faced with the fact that she had 
no choice, she quickly stood up, dashed the rest of the way to the beach and 
up across the sand to the door of the little hut. Naked except for the tiny 
bikini bottom, Isabel paused just inside. It was dark and it took a moment 
for her eyes to adjust to the light. Then she saw that there was an air 
mattress spread out on the ground. Kneeling upon it was Jack O'Niel. Her 
bikini top, and his own bathing suit lay on the sand at her feet. He was 
completely naked, and as Isabel's eyes shifted reflexively to his groin an 
involuntary gasp of shock burst to her lips. 

"Oh my God! No!" 

He was grinning lewdly up at her, and he held his fully erected penis in his 
hand, lewdly stroking up and down along its massive length. He was ready. 
His cock was rock-hard, pulsing with almost visible urgency, surrounded at 
the base by a thick matting of curly blond hair. Bill was well enough 
endowed, but this was outrageous. It was enormous, and the mental image of 
her friend Carrol being skewered halfway to her belly filled her mind and 
made her legs almost buckle beneath her. Then, before she had time to 
retreat, Jack's hands moved up to her waist and his fingers seized the tight 
elastic waistband at the top of her tiny bikini and started to tug it 
downward. 

"Come on in, Isabel," he said in a gusty, mocking voice. "I'm going to eat 
your cunt." 

Isabel watched in horror as the little garment slipped down off her tightly 
rounded buttocks, down off the vee-shaped triangle of moist black pubic hair 
nestled so invitingly between her thighs, down the length of her thighs to 
clutch like constricting hobbles at her ankles so that she had no choice but 
to step out of them, leaving her completely naked before the leering man. 

Then in a quick, deft gesture, he reached up and crossed one forearm behind 
her knees, his other hand moving to her belly and around her side, to push 
her backwards and sideways. Her legs did buckle then, and he caught her 
easily, guiding her in her fall so that she landed helplessly reclined on 
the mattress. And as she stared up in fear and dismay, Jack shifted quickly 
about, planting his knees between her parted legs, leaning over her to leer 
hungrily down at the open-splayed softness of her thinly haired little pussy 
orifice. 

"Noooo," Isabel moaned weakly, shaking her head from side to side as Jack 
leaned forward over her. "Please, don't do it to me." 

"Shhhhhhhh," he grinned, his hands moving up to paw eagerly at the lush 
mounds of her nakedly glistening breasts. 

She could have screamed. It was happening. He had her where he wanted her 
and she knew there was no escape. And she knew she had asked for it. She had 
been asking for it all along. But she couldn't let it happen like this, not 
with Bill and Carrol less than a hundred yards away, hardly even out of 
hearing distance. 

Then as Jack's hands coursed down her body, the fearfully cringing brunette 
shuddered and clenched her eyes shut. A slight uncontrollable tremor of 
excitement rippled through her belly at the touch of his fingers on her 
inner thighs. He stared hungrily down at the glistening pink wonder of her 
exposed loins held completely open to his gaze, then pushed her legs out 
even wider and doubled them back until her knees were practically jackknifed 
to her shoulders, leaving the sensual mound of her naked pubis and the 
lewdly moistened slit of her cunt completely vulnerable to her view. 

Isabel opened her eyes again, her breath coming in hoarse strained gasps as 
she watched Jack's tongue flick from his mouth to moisten his lips in 
anticipation of the cruel lashing it was about to inflict upon her helpless 
genitals. Then slowly he inched his hands back between her thighs, savoring 
her mixed excitement and fear as his fingers found the flanged lips of her 
cunt and with a slow outward movement he drew them apart until the moist, 
gently pulsing slit of her vagina was even better exposed to his gaze. Then 
with a low animal groan of lust, he dropped his head and buried the full 
length of his tongue up into the depths of Isabel's widespread pussy 
moisture. 

The naked brunette's whole willowy body jerked suddenly and a low groan rose 
from deep in her throat. It was happening. It was too late for her to stop 
it, and she could only pray that Bill and Carrol would stay where they were 
until it was over. Shocks of unwelcome pleasure were purling completely out 
of control through her breasts and loins and she raised her head up from the 
air mattress to stare down almost deliriously at the blond hair spilling in 
thick bushy locks on her naked belly from the head wedged between her 
thighs. 

"Bill," she whimpered weakly. "Bill and Carrol. Please. We can't." 

But her protests were to no avail. Physically she knew she didn't stand a 
chance against Jack. She had led him on and he had every right to expect to 
have her, and as his tongue began to lick and slaver up and down the whole 
length of her tingling cunt-slit, she knew that her only hope lay in 
refusing to be conquered by the lust-inspiring sensations. Yet against all 
her will she could already feel a traitorous excitement building in her 
body. It felt like her nerve-ends were exploding in tiny bursts of flaming 
desire. She was finding it less easy to remember that she was being forced 
into cooperating and gradually her muscles were beginning to relax into a 
soft receptiveness as she felt Jack's mouth sucking and licking even more 
hungrily on her burning little cunt. 

She felt him draw the delicately tingling folds of her vagina deep into the 
thrilling warm cavern of his mouth, and a long low sigh escaped from her 
throat to signal him the beginnings of her willing submission to the obscene 
oral assault. 

Smiling in lewd self-satisfaction, Jack O'Niel pressed his face lower, 
pushing his open mouth hard against the desire-swollen wetness of Isabel's 
defenseless loins. He shifted his position slightly, moving his head upward 
to nibble at the quivering erect bud of her clitoris, and at this even more 
devastating sensation the spread-eagled brunette's hips began a slow 
sensuous writhing of their own and soft mewling animal sounds leaked 
spontaneously from between her tightly clenched teeth. 

Isabel's gasps of pleasure echoed through the little hut as she began to 
screw her buttocks up from the mattress, squirming her pussy eagerly into 
Jack's grinning face, her vaginal passage beginning automatically to expand 
and contract, clenching tightly to the slavering tongue burrowing deeper and 
deeper inside her. Her breath exploded in quick small gasps as he curled and 
flicked the darting tip all along the trembling hair-lined slit, his nose 
rutting her clitoris to prompt a repeated involuntary arching of her nakedly 
churning ass-cheeks up from the mattress beneath her. 

Jack grunted down between Isabel's thighs, relishing his triumph as he felt 
her resistance giving way. His tongue was thrusting assiduously in and out 
of her cunt, plunging again and again to make a wet sluicing noise with each 
of its limber penetrations. His face dove deeper into the warm moist crevice 
between her thighs and his lips sucked and teased hungrily at the little bud 
of her clitoris, tantalizing her with the sharpness of his teeth as she 
writhed and churned, shoving her buttocks up and down in a lewd dance of 
aroused desire and want. At last he almost chuckled aloud right into the 
flowering hole of her pussy as he felt her hands move down to begin to claw 
desperately at his thick blond hair to pull his face even tighter against 
her loins. 

Now Isabel was really losing her inhibitions and she whimpered aloud in 
shameless desire, grasping Jack's head with both her hands to press his 
mouth directly over the tight little hole of her burning vagina. Her 
cunt-lips parted wider and wider and the flow of her feminine moisture 
increased with each additional second that his sucking mouth worked at her 
aroused little pussy crevice. The fragrant wetness of her passion began to 
run in narrow trickles down the sides of Jack's cheeks, causing them to 
shine with the slickness of her lewdly flowing cuntal lubricants. 

The lustfully aroused brunette could never have dreamed of such utterly 
debauched pleasure as that she now derived from the illicit adulterous 
eating and sucking of her pussy and she ground her lushly undulating 
buttocks in a pounding rhythm in response to the fervent lashing of his 
tongue. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She knew she was betraying 
her love of her husband, and yet the wickedness of it only seemed to further 
intensify her excitement. The sensuous thrills racing through her naked body 
had taken control of her thoughts and her head was spinning in a whirlpool 
of lustful delights. 

"Oooooohhhhh yesssss!" she moaned. "Tongue fuck it! God yesssss! Eat my 
cunt!" In the self-humiliation of her pleading she let herself go completely 
as Jack's wetly seething tongue continued to bore into the gaping passage of 
her cunt with greater and greater fervor and intensity. It was pure physical 
heaven, and she found herself longing in spite of everything for more and 
more of whatever this muscular animal of a man had to offer. And she was 
getting it. Jack O'Niel's tongue was working at a fever pitch, driving her 
squirming buttocks to movements of even greater frenzy beneath each 
thrilling stab into her inflamed cuntal tightness. Then suddenly he pulled 
the wet pink instrument out, moving it downward before Isabel had any 
warning to lick straight across the tiny puckered little hole of her anus. 

The sensual brunette blinked, then opened her eyes wide, staring down in 
sheer delight as she felt Jack's tongue dart again and again over the 
sensitive little hole, striking it like a snake striking forbidden fruit, 
its whole searing length lashing right up into the tight orifice with 
sharply slicing force. 

"Ooooouuuuu!" Isabel wailed as the sensational contact with her erotically 
stimulated anus sent chills of shivering magnificence coursing up and down 
her spine. Lurid visions smashed into her brain with the intensity of an 
erupting volcano as his damp hot tongue entered the restricting passage of 
her weirdly excited rectum. Her voluptuous young body shook uncontrollably 
beneath the overpowering assault and wild uncontrollable spasms rippled 
furiously through her loins and belly with torrents of sensual pleasure that 
blotted all else from her mind. 

Driving his tongue deeper and deeper into Isabel's hot little anal passage, 
Jack waited until her screams of submission reached a pitch of insanity. 
Then he pulled suddenly free and in a quick motion he slid up her body, his 
hand reaching down to seize the fully erected shaft of his cock and guide it 
straight up toward her open-splayed and defenseless cunt. 

A whimper of despair rose from deep in Isabel's throat as the tantalizing 
contact seized. In a spontaneous gesture she lifted her buttocks higher, 
spreading her thighs even wider. Then, feeling the hot hard thickness of 
Jack's cock brush along the straining tendon of one of her inner thighs, she 
came suddenly back to her senses. She opened her eyes wide, staring up in 
horror and dismay as her body suddenly went stiff and with a mighty effort 
she squeezed her thighs tightly shut beneath the sweating man who mounted 
her. 

"What the hell?" Jack O'Niel grunted, staring down in disbelief. 

"I can't," Isabel sobbed, her whole body shuddering in frustration. 

"What do you mean, you can't?" 

"I can't be unfaithful to Bill. I can't let you fuck me. Go ahead and finish 
eating me if you want. But I can't let you put your cock inside." 

Even Isabel recognized the selfishness and absurdity of that remark, and she 
could hardly even believe it was she who had said it. She saw the surprise 
turn to anger in Jack's eyes and she realized she'd made a very bad mistake. 
Then, in a sudden twisting move on the mattress, he changed the direction of 
his body in relation to hers, turning completely around so that his knees 
were planted on either side of her head and his face was positioned back 
over her naked loins. And as he dropped downward his heavy penis was pressed 
straight toward the confused and whimpering young wife's slightly parted 
lips even as his own tongue again poised itself over the saliva-soaked lips 
of her cunt and his breath blew softly down over the still rigidly 
palpitating bud of her clitoris. 

"All right, kid," he grunted between her thighs. "We'll do it your way. Take 
it in your mouth." 

Oh my God, thought Isabel. This was even worse. But she knew she had no 
choice. She'd let Jack go too far and she couldn't cut him off without 
giving him some kind of relief, and she could only justify her action with 
the rationalization that at least she wasn't really letting him fuck her. 
Perhaps it would have been small consolation to Bill, but it was all she had 
to offer. 

"Suck it!" Jack said in a deep lusting voice, channeling his anger into his 
desire as he plunged his searing tongue back into the depths of Isabel's 
still eagerly accepting cunt. 

The young wife's brain was a mass of lewdly inspired erotic images as the 
scintillating contact was resumed, and in her deliriously heightened longing 
she found herself actually searching with her lips for the tip of the giant 
cock pressed down so near to her face. Then she gasped from the renewed 
contact of Jack's teeth on the quivering bud of her clitoris, reaching at 
the same time to seize the palpitating hardness of his cock with her hand 
and guide it straight down to her mouth. 

Now she had reached the moment of truth. Jack had resumed the wanton licking 
and sucking down between her thighs, but Isabel knew he wouldn't keep it up 
for long if she didn't do her part. But still she hesitated for a moment 
before flicking her tongue cautiously from her mouth, searching over the 
purplish head until she found the slitted glans at the tip to flick up a 
tangy little droplet of seminal fluid that had seeped forth in his building 
anticipation. 

And at that mild contact the rubbery flesh of the thickly rising phallus 
jerked to an even greater hardness, seeming to flex and tremble in her hand 
as if it were a living rifle. Holding tightly to it, Isabel experienced a 
strange sense of danger. She was venturing again into the unknown, and she 
promised herself that though she would never yield to the greater temptation 
to actually let this man fuck her, she would suck him without restraint or 
inhibition. She would give him every bit as much pleasure in return as he 
was giving her now. 

Letting the building spasms in her belly continue to grow as Jack's greedily 
swirling tongue worked with greater intensity in and out of her cunt, Isabel 
worked her own tongue slowly over and around the blood-filled cock-head, 
wetting it with her saliva as if it were a delicious sucker. She used her 
tongue tip like a little velvet whip, lashing out at the sensitive head 
until it jerked and cringed as if in tortured response. Then, savoring her 
mischievous experimentation, she lay her tongue beneath the underside of the 
lust-hardened pole of flesh and opened her mouth wide to take the throbbing 
cock-head straight up inside. 

Then Jack flicked his hips forward as the hugely throbbing tip of his 
cock-filled her mouth, and in a sudden violent motion he pushed a good half 
the length of the enormous shaft all the way down her tongue to the back of 
her throat. The pinioned brunette gulped, almost gagging from the pressure 
at the back of her mouth. She fought instinctively against the gagging 
effect, closing her jaws around the swollen cock, clamping her teeth down 
hard as the pressure continued. She licked and rolled her tongue defensively 
around in her mouth, jerking her head back to leave long white marks on the 
surface of the huge penis-shaft from the force of her teeth pushing the 
blood away from the flesh. 

But she was getting accustomed to the foreign presence and she shoved her 
head up from the mattress to plunge her lips almost all the way to the base 
of the long column of hardness. She was taking it into her mouth as far as 
it would go, and the choking sensation she felt in her throat was enough to 
make her eager to do whatever necessary to push Jack beyond the brink of 
control, even if the result was her being forced to take his cum in her 
mouth and have it exploding hotly down her tongue and throat. 

All the while Jack's face was still pressed tightly down between her loins, 
and he realized she was nearing climax. There was no doubt about it from the 
increased twisting and jerking of her buttocks and the even more fervent 
ministrations of her lips and tongue on the hotly straining shaft of his 
cock, and her building excitement only prompted him to intensify his own 
cunt-sucking. He dug his tongue deeper and deeper into the moistened slit 
between her thighs, at the same time working his hips even more wildly above 
her face to fuck his cock ruthlessly into her eagerly sucking mouth. 

Now Isabel's lushly tensiled lips were grotesquely distended by the huge 
presence of Jack's wildly thrusting cock, and she took it greedily into the 
warmth of her mouth, her lips folding inward from the surging pressure as it 
rammed again and again to her throat. They were both building rapidly toward 
climax now and she squeezed his balls tightly in her hand, pleading silently 
for the hot sticky cum they contained, her own hungry belly seeming to take 
flight into an ecstasy she had never considered possible. Every muscle, 
every nerve and ragged fiber of her being had become suddenly 
hyper-sensitive. She experienced a fantastic and overwhelming surge of 
sensation ripping through her with shattering eroticism. She was soaring, 
bursting, exploding from deep within herself with all the extravagance of a 
fire-works display as the screaming release flooded her pulsating cuntal 
passage with hotly gurgling feminine liquid. 

And at almost the same time Jack's tremendous cock swelled finally to full 
size as he pushed it to the hilt into her throat. Her mouth closed tightly 
around the hard thick shaft and her hand clawed hungrily at his naked 
buttocks as if to pull it in even deeper. Then at last his balls let go, his 
sperm surging up the length of his convulsing penis to blast out from the 
hugely swollen tip like a racing bullet from the barrel of a rifle. 

Isabel gulped from the sudden splashing as Jack pumped drop after drop of 
white hot cum into her mouth and throat. She was really in danger of choking 
now and she swallowed as rapidly as she could, tasting the pungent heat of 
his squirting cum as her own body underwent a wild and fantastic spasm of 
even more shattering bliss. She lapped servilely at the spewing and jerking 
cock-head, licking and pulling in all its hot delicious sperm to swallow it 
deep in her quivering belly. And the fury of their perfectly timed orgasm 
seemed to go on forever and ever. 

Then at last it was over. Isabel's pussy contracted one last time around 
Jack's tongue, and at the same time she dropped her head back to the 
mattress, letting his deflating cock slip from her lips. He groaned tiredly, 
rolling off her. Isabel closed her eyes, then opened them, staring up in 
dismay and regret as reality gradually returned. Then abruptly she sat up. 
She retrieved her bikini top and put it on, then the bottom. 

"Hey, what's the rush?" Jack said as she walked out the door of the hut. 

When she got back to the pool she found Carrol sitting at the table drinking 
and Bill lying where he'd been before, though from the water that coated his 
body she could see he'd just been in the pool. 

"Have a nice swim?" he asked casually. 

She looked back at him, stone-faced. "Yes," she said. "Very nice." 

She walked to the end of the pool and dove. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

It was Wednesday afternoon three days later when Isabel got the call from 
Carrol. She hadn't seen her friend, if after what had happened they were 
still friends, since Sunday. She and Bill had left, at Isabel's insistence, 
shortly after Jack got back to the pool. Jack, she thought. He'd acted 
exactly as if nothing had happened. He'd gone over and kissed Carrol. He'd 
chatted casually with her and Bill. He'd described their swim in exaggerated 
detail. And all the time she had been so ashamed she couldn't help but 
imagine it clearly showed on her face. And her guilt remained. She was 
nervous and tense around Bill. The one time they had made love she'd had to 
fake her climax, though Bill's love-making was as adept as ever. And she 
spent her afternoons alone at home, not daring to even venture out of the 
house. And then, Wednesday, she picked up the phone and heard her friend on 
the other end of the line. 

"Isabel. I want you to come over. Now." 

Isabel hesitated for a moment, hardly knowing what to say, but sensing from 
the sound of Carrol's voice that something was terribly wrong. "W-what is 
it?" she managed at last. 

There was a moment's silence. She was thinking of Jack, thinking that still, 
in spite of all her guilt, she wanted him. She wanted to really make love to 
him just one time, just to get it out of her system so she could resume her 
normal life with Bill. It was a compulsion, she thought. She thought of 
herself as a femme fatal, a Greta Garbo heroine in an old silent film. It 
seemed she was compelled to destroy - not only her own marriage but the 
engagement of her best friend. 

"You've got to come," Carrol said at last, her voice quivering. 

"Carrol. Carrol, the other day with... with Jack. We... we didn't go all the 
way. I promise. And... it won't happen again." 

"Will you come or not?" 

"Yes," she said after a moment. "I'll come." 

Still not sure how she was going to face the wounded blonde, Isabel went to 
her bedroom and shed the housecoat she'd been wearing and slipped into a 
skirt and blouse. Unable to bear her nervousness, she went to the living 
room and poured herself a shot of scotch and ice, downed it quickly, then 
left. She walked briskly in the brilliant afternoon sunshine. Then, rounding 
the corner at the end of the block, she stopped. Parked in front of the 
third house up the street was Jack O'Niel's Jaguar. 

Isabel could hardly get her breath. Her heart was pounding furiously and she 
experienced a constricting tightness in her throat as she was faced with the 
understanding of why her friend had really called her. And she knew it was 
true. Jack had forced her. 

Isabel must have stood motionless, contemplating what she should do, for 
almost five minutes. Her first inclination was to turn back, yet at the same 
time an unexplainable masochistic force seemed to draw her toward the house. 
Nothing that can possibly happen between the three of us there can be good, 
she told herself. And yet she knew, finally, that she had to go. She had to 
find out what Jack wanted. She had to see it and hear it for herself, even 
if deep down inside she already knew. 

Then she walked quickly across the street and up to the door. She started to 
ring the bell, then tried the knob and found it unlocked. She went into the 
foyer and down the hall, pausing at the kitchen door. 

Inside Carrol sat at the table, a drink before her. Jack stood leaning 
against the sink, smiling at her in his familiar arrogant way, his eyes 
trailing appreciatively down the lush ripe curves of her body. She looked 
back at him, almost expressionless, though she couldn't hide the strange 
excitement flashing in her eyes. Then she shifted her gaze to the blonde. 

"Carrol, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I promise nothing... nothing will ever 
happen again." 

Carrol sipped her drink, then looked slowly up. "It's not your fault, 
Isabel. I don't blame you. And it has to happen. I knew it was going to 
happen the first time I saw you together." 

"No." 

"Yes it is. Don't lie to yourself. It's inevitable. So go on." 

"No!" 

"Go on, please, and get it over with!" He came around the table. He poured 
her a drink, scotch on ice, and held the glass toward her. She wondered if 
that was the truth. Was it inevitable? Perhaps it was. She took the glass 
and drank, all of it. Even Carrol said it was. Even Carrol knew that her 
only chance with the man she loved lay in her and Jack following through, 
getting it over with, getting it out of the way. She handed the glass back 
and he sat it on the table. She looked at Carrol. 

"All right." 

She had no excuse, she thought as he put his arm around her waist and guided 
her down the hall to the bedroom. The other afternoon she had been almost 
drunk. What had happened had happened without her intending it. She'd been 
playing a game, and only in the end had it ceased to be a game and become 
real. But this was different, she thought, and in her resignation she felt a 
sudden release, a freedom, almost even an elation. This was no game, and she 
knew it. And she was making the choice, though it was the only choice she 
could have made - for better or for worse. 

He guided her through and closed the door behind them. They stood, facing 
each other, looking into each other's eyes. "You don't care about Carrol, do 
you?" she said, thinking at that moment that she hated him, almost as much 
as she hated herself. 

"Carrol understands," he said. He smiled. 

She laughed softly and thought: We are really very much alike. We're bad, 
both of us. 

Then he began to take off her clothes, slowly flicking the buttons open down 
the front of her blouse, parting the material off the ripe, 
brassiere-encumbered mounds of her upthrust breasts, pushing it off her 
shoulders to let it fall to the floor behind her. He reached behind her 
back, deftly undoing the snap of her brassiere, and she shrugged her 
shoulders slightly to shed the straps off her shoulders so her full 
upstanding voluptuous breasts burst suddenly into freedom, their contact 
with the air causing her ripe mauve-colored nipples to swell almost 
instantly to tingling rigidity. Then he undid the zipper down the side of 
her skirt and as the garment dropped to her ankles, she stepped out of it 
and kicked off her shoes, leaving herself completely naked except for her 
thinly revealing, low hanging bikini panties. 

Then Jack stepped back and, never taking his eyes from her body, began to 
strip off his own clothes. Isabel watched with rapidly building anticipation 
as he peeled off his shirt to reveal his muscular torso, then undid his 
trousers and pulled them down to expose the already lustfully stirring 
hardness of his cock surging up almost frighteningly in the tight 
constriction of his jockey shorts. A little whimper of mingled fear and 
excitement rose in her throat as she remembered how big it really was, and 
again she found herself wondering if she would really be capable of taking 
it inside her cunt. Then she dropped her hands to the tight elastic 
waistband of her panties, pulling them slowly down off the ripe roundness of 
her tightly formed buttocks and the inviting vee of hair between her thighs. 
And at the same time Jack got out of his shorts to stand completely naked 
before her, his cock now looming up almost its full length in lewdly pulsing 
erection. 

Her breath coming in hoarse strained gasps, Isabel let her eyes rove 
searchingly over Jack's bronze-tanned body. She was finally going to do it. 
She was going all the way. She was going to be completely unfaithful to her 
husband, just this one time. And she would worry about the consequences 
later. 

Then Jack took her hand and led her to the bed. Beside it, she turned again 
to face him, and he pushed her gently down to a reclining position on her 
back, then climbed up to lay beside her. Closing her eyes, Isabel reached 
out with her hands, exploring with wonder over the rippling muscles of his 
torso, savoring the clean male smell of him, her soft lips that only three 
days ago had nurtured and sucked his enormous cock to lewd ejaculation now 
clasping hungrily over his mouth. She lifted one of her legs over his firmly 
flexing him, pressing her pubic mound tightly against his thigh with a 
provocative undulating motion of her hips. Then greedily she pulled him 
toward her until the length of his hard male cock was prodding insistently 
up against the softly-haired mound of her pussy. 

Isabel sighed with forbidden pleasure, squirming even more tightly against 
the hotly breathing male until the gleaming lust-swollen head of his penis 
was twitching right against the passion-drenched lips of her cunt. Now she 
was acutely aware of its size, and yet her fear only seemed to increase the
 delirium of her lust. She kissed him again, her tongue snaking eagerly into 
his mouth as her hand clasped the firmness of his naked buttocks to draw him 
even closer and more tightly against her. 

"Oh yes," she purred softly. "I want it. I want it." Her hungry pelvis began 
to swivel against him in a prematurely abandoned fucking motion, and she 
wriggled up on the bed until the lust-bloated cock lurched uncontrollably 
into even greater pressure with the flushed entrance of her vaginal orifice. 
Then she slid higher up on the bed until her swollen, tight-nippled breasts 
were even with Jack's face. She cupped his chin in her hand to draw his 
mouth closer to one of her distended little nipple, her eyes wild with 
anticipation as she pressed the full, smoothly tanned mound toward his lips. 
"Suck it," she moaned. "Suck my tit." 

Grinning, Jack obliged, and even further maddening sensations raced through 
her belly and loins as she watched his lips part from the contact of the 
bud-like nipple point brushing against it. Then hungrily he took it into his 
mouth, sucking ravenously, his teeth biting teasingly against the hard 
little bud. 

"Ooooooh yes," she whimpered, squirming her sensuous body as his tongue 
swiped eagerly over the rigidly swelling button. He sucked at first one of 
them, then the other, rubbing his face into the deep wide valley between the 
voluptuous nipple peaked mounds, his cock twitching even harder as she 
inched her hand down between them to seize the thick shaft of his fully 
erected cock, feeling it seem to jerk to even more frightening size from the 
tantalizing contact. 

Isabel basked for a few moments longer in the joy of having her breasts 
licked and sucked. Then, when she thought she could no longer bear the 
exquisitely teasing sensation, she tore her tingling nipple of Jack's mouth 
and wriggled again downward on the bed. Her hand stroked forcibly up and 
down the smooth taut flesh of his penis for another instant, and again she 
experienced a twinge of fear as she imagined the feel of it ripping up 
inside her. She still didn't see how she would be able to take it, but now 
her desire over-rode her fear and she wrapped her arms around his back, 
pulling him over on top of her until his hard-muscled chest pressed down 
heavily against the fullness of her breasts. 

Isabel waited breathlessly, eagerly spreading her thighs as Jack settled 
down between them and situated himself in a push-up stance over her 
surrendered and spread-eagled form. 

"Yes," she purred, staring up through glossed-over eyes. "Fuck me. Fuck me!" 

Jack's face swam before Isabel's lust-glazed eyes as he leered at her in 
triumph. She felt the virilely frightening hardness of his engorged penis 
slipping down the full length of her excitedly dampened vaginal crevice, the 
lurching head resting almost straight up between her quivering buttocks and 
insinuate itself into the moistened lips of her cunt. Then he shoved his 
buttocks forward and she shuddered from the sudden increase of the pressure 
against the restrictive tightness of her loins. 

"Oooooooh!" she gasped. "Easy! Easy!" 

Jack's grin broadened as he saw the surprise in her eyes, and instead of 
relenting the pressure, he shoved forward even harder, seizing her wrists at 
the same time to pinion them above her head. Then with a wild thrill of 
conquest he drove his hips down against her frantically squirming loins, 
feeling her tremble in pain and fear as his tingling cock-head wedged itself 
up between the tightly resisting lips of her open-splayed cunt. 

"Aaaaggggghhhhh!" Isabel cried. "Oh my God, it's too big!" 

Slowly the straining cock-shaft wormed its way up into her tightly clasping 
vaginal sheath, its strength and power sweeping aside all her resistance to 
spread and stretch her lust-seared vaginal walls until she thought she would 
pass out from the sheer sensation. It seemed to burrow into her forever, 
filling her endlessly as she lay helplessly quivering in the raw and 
tantalizing promise of release, and she groaned hoarse as she at last felt 
the hard rubbery head lodge tightly against her cervix and Jack's swollen 
balls bounced lightly down between the naked cheeks of her ass. 

"Aaahhhhh," she sighed out, feeling a slight relief now that the initial 
penetration was completed. Her beautiful mouth was loose and panting and she 
was wide-eyed as a lust-crazed animal, her thighs scissoring slowly open and 
closed on his flanks, her head flailing gently from side to side on the 
pillow. She was afraid to even move for the hotly intruding instrument 
buried deep up between her thighs, and she could only hope Jack would give 
her time to adjust. But he still held her arms pinioned helplessly above her 
head, and from the way he was leering down at her she knew she could expect 
little mercy. Then, as if to warn her, he flexed and his cock seemed to 
surge up even deeper into her loins, causing a shudder to course the hold 
length of her naked body. And a moment later he began to move. 

He flicked his hips back and forth in a slow teasing motion, drawing the 
length of his straining cock almost all the way out of her, leaving just the 
head buried between her quivering cunt-lips before he surged slowly back up 
into the warmth and tightness, sweeping aside all her renewed resistance 
until his pubic mound mashed hard against her own and he was embedded again 
to the hilt. He kissed her hard on the lips, his tongue thrusting deep into 
her mouth, the rhythm of his buttocks gradually increasing. He was panting 
heavily and a coat of sweat was breaking out on his muscular body as his 
stone-hard cock-shaft pistoned again and again into the coral-hued slit of 
her cunt. 

"Oooooh," Isabel moaned, gradually accustoming herself to the obscene 
intrusion. Her breasts joggled beneath Jack's face and her dark eyes opened 
and closed in dazed passion. He knew he was hurting her. But she was 
enjoying the hurt, the sheer sensation of his sensuously stretching cock, 
and he could feel her begin to respond with a slow undulating of her 
buttocks up from the bed that only further increased the scintillating 
friction in her loins. Then she groaned lecherously and thrust her pelvis up 
in a wanton squirming motion to meet his driving thrust, grinding her pubic 
mound hard against his in urgent stimulation of her twitching little 
clitoris as she began to hunch and buck beneath him in response. 

Now Isabel's loins and belly were a boiling inferno of erotic sensation and 
she felt as though she were sinking forever into a nether-world of perverted 
pleasure. She relished her wrong-doing and the deliciously frenzied 
movements of Jack's cock plunging in and out of her loins were provoking her 
every instant closer to the orgasm she'd been unable to attain the last time 
she'd made love to Bill. Her eyelids fluttered deliciously as she twisted 
beneath her adulterous lover, lost in the intensity of her want, her 
excitement ever mounting as she clenched his cock into the most sensitive 
recesses of her moistly swollen inner vaginal tightness. 

Jack could feel the pressure welling in his balls and he thought if he 
didn't cum soon they would blow apart. He tensed his muscles and moved 
suddenly into a series of longer and more swiftly plunging strokes, ramming 
his hard rod of flesh again and again to the hilt into the aroused 
brunette's squirming cunt. He could feel his balls slapping against her 
puckered little anus and with his every lunge she thrashed even more 
rampantly beneath him. The wet flat smack of his thighs thudding against her 
upturned pelvis resounded through the room and he dazedly dropped his head 
to take one of her erectly pulsing nipples into his mouth and suck on it 
urgently to prompt even further moans of servile longing and submission to 
rise to her lips as they began their simultaneous rush toward climax. 

Then suddenly Jack's cock began to flex and pulse even deeper up inside her. 
The hard rubbery head seemed to flare out until she feared it would tear 
straight up into her belly. For a moment she didn't know what was happening, 
and then she realized that he was about to cum. He was going to shoot his 
warm creamy semen into her voraciously accepting cunt. He was going to make 
her illicit adulterous act complete and just the thought made her shiver 
with lewd delight. Her hands darted down to grasp his driving buttocks and 
pull him even tighter against her, and at the same time she arched her open 
loins even higher onto his expanding cock, urging him on as she prepared to 
take everything he had. 

She was going to cum too and a moment later the unfaithful housewife felt 
her own long-awaited climax begin to surge through her body with the force 
of an earthquake. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around Jack's 
pumping body, waving her buttocks wildly from side to side and spiraling her 
excited cunt frenziedly up and down on his hotly burrowing penis. The 
bedsprings squeaked in time to the slapping of their naked bodies and the 
gutteral sounds of their deep panting grunts and groans filled the room, 
mingling with the moist noises of his penis churning into her wetly sucking 
cunt. 

Then suddenly she could hold back no longer. "I'm cumming," she cried. 
"Ooooh my God, I'm cuuuummmmminnnggg! I'm cuuummmmmmiiinn nnnnggggg!" 

Her body quivered completely out of control and the rosy hue of her face 
brightened and dampened as her sobbing moan rose to a breathless sigh of 
ecstasy and her female fluids oozed wildly from her rippling vagina, 
drowning Jack's still urgently plunging member in a torrent of sticky 
warmth. 

Then Jack felt his own climax begin to boil up from the depths of his 
bloated testicles. Launching a series of rapid staccato strokes, he jammed 
his heavily loaded cock all the way to the hilt into the hotly contracting 
depths of Isabel's cunt, feeling his sperm erupt deep up into her widely 
stretched vagina to mix obscenely with the fluids of her own shattering 
release. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

She went back the next day. And she'd been back almost every day since, 
except Sunday, which she'd spent miserably with Bill. That was a week ago. 
She was going back today. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, silently sipping a whiskey and ice, Isabel 
wondered if life would ever return to normal again. Because she wasn't 
happy. Jack O'Niel did not make her happy and she did not love him. She 
loved Bill. She loved him even more now than she had before, and she felt so 
guilty for the way she was wronging him that she could have torn her heart 
out. She felt so guilty she couldn't stand to be around him. They'd almost 
ceased completely to make love. They'd almost ceased completely to talk. 

"But somehow it's all my own goddamn choosing," Isabel said aloud to 
herself, swearing uncharacteristically. She had begun something, and she 
still didn't know where it was going to lead, but she couldn't stop it yet. 
She'd already paid too high a price for her little adventure. She'd lost her 
best friend, for though Carrol tolerated her and Jack's escapade being 
carried on in her house, in her own bedroom, she and Isabel could no longer 
be comfortable together. And she was coming very close to estranging her 
husband. Though Bill had made no accusations directly, she was sure he was 
getting suspicious. His manner had changed in direct proportion to hers. He 
was brooding and resentful, and she sensed that his patience was wearing 
thin. She was hurting him. The suspicion he must feel would be enough to 
hurt him if he never confirmed its source, and she loathed herself for the 
way she was acting. But it seemed any attempt to make things better only 
made them worse. When, once, she mentioned to him that she liked Carrol's 
Fiance because he reminded her of her own older brother, he merely scowled 
and walked out of the room. And on one of the several afternoons when she'd 
stayed late over there and he'd been home when she returned, she'd 
volunteered the information that Jack hadn't been there. He looked at her 
silently for a moment, then remarked that his car was there. "Oh yes," she 
stammered. "He loaned it to Carrol." He studied her face for a moment, but 
she could hardly look him in the eye. And it was a hardly feasible 
explanation, as Carrol had a car of her own. 

Isabel sighed and downed the rest of her drink. She consulted the clock 
above the stove, then rose. It was time to go. Jack and Carrol would be 
waiting for her. 

Bill Miller pulled into the drive and cut off the ignition, got out of the 
car and walked into the house. He sensed that it was deserted even before he 
called Isabel's name and was answered by only silence. Well, he thought, 
looking forlornly down the hall, he'd expected as much. Not sure what to do, 
he absently consulted his watch. It was four o'clock. "Damn it," he 
muttered. If things ran true to form he couldn't expect her home until six 
or seven. She would come in, slightly high from alcohol, pretending she was 
surprised to see him back so early. And he would turn immediately cold and 
hostile. Nothing would be said, and the riff between them would grow only 
wider. 

Slowly Bill turned and walked back to the door. Outside he hesitated again 
on the steps, but only briefly. Perhaps he was inviting a blow up, but he 
supposed he'd really been decided as to what he was going to do when he'd 
left the office. He knew she wouldn't be home, and he was determined to talk 
to her. So there was nothing to do but go over there and get her. 

Bill lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, then strode down the steps to the 
street and started along the walk. Seeing the Jaguar parked in Carrol's 
drive as he rounded the corner, he hastened his footsteps, his heart beating 
heavily with his building nervousness. He didn't know what he expected to 
find. But he'd always let Isabel lead her own life and he'd never really 
been too curious about what she did in her free time. He'd never intruded 
unexpectedly, and for better or for worse that's what he was going to do 
today. 

Reaching the door of the three-year-old house Carrol Haynes had received in 
the community property settlement when she'd gotten her divorce, Bill paused 
again and took a deep breath before he rang. He listened to the footsteps 
coming down the hall, then it opened and Carrol appeared, her face going 
white at the sight of him. 

"Bill?" she gasped, not moving to open the screen. 

He peered silently into the foyer, his eyes singling out Isabel's purse 
resting on the table just inside. She followed his gaze, also noting it, 
then looked back with despair and pushed open the screen. 

"Come in. Come into the kitchen," she said, turning and starting down the 
hall. "Isabel is... in the bath," she said over her shoulder, then quickly 
looked away. 

In the kitchen he noted the whiskey bottle, the one full glass and the two 
empties. She noted them also and cleared them quickly away. But the action 
only served to emphasize their significance. From the look on her pretty, 
now disturbed face, he thought she was just as aware of that as he. 

"W-would you like a drink?" 

"No." 

"I guess she'll be out in a minute," she said. "Here," she added, starting 
to rise. "I'll go call her." 

"No!" She was deterred by the authority in his voice. She settled back into 
her seat and stared down at the floor, as if enthralled by the sight of her 
own feet. "I'm in no hurry," Bill added. It was almost as though in his own 
anger and suspicion he relished her discomfort. 

Perhaps five minutes passed in silence before he heard the door open down 
the hall and recognized his wife's laughter. They listened to the 
approaching footsteps, two pairs of footsteps, and Carrol fidgeted nervously 
with her hands. Bill looked up, stone-faced, at the door as Isabel and Jack 
O'Niel appeared. 

"Bill?" she gasped, her face going momentarily white as she stopped in her 
tracks. 

Jack O'Niel smiled. "Hello Bill." He came forward and shook his hand, to 
which Bill submitted absently, never taking his eyes from his wife's face. 

"We... we were looking at Jack's old college scrapbook," she stammered. 

Out of the corner of his eye Bill watched Carrol's visible flinch. 

"What are y-you doing here?" Isabel went on, still completely uncomposed. 

He stood up. "I've got to talk to you. Come on. We're going home." 

He ushered her out, saying her goodbyes to Carrol as they went. Jack 
followed them to the door and called Bill's name to detain him for a moment. 
"I'm having a little party this weekend. Some old college friends. I hope 
you and Isabel will come." 

"We'll see," Bill said, hardly looking back. 

He walked swiftly, pushing her along beside him, back to the house. They 
didn't speak until they were inside. She went to the living room and poured 
herself a drink and he followed her to the door. She drank, then turned to 
face him. 

"W-what did you want to talk to me about?" 

He looked at her silently, wondering if what he suspected could really be 
true. He had gone there to find it out, but he still didn't want to believe 
it. And he couldn't imagine how Carrol would allow it to go on right in her 
own house. He was supposed to be her fiance, unless that was just some 
elaborately conceived cover. 

"If you want to have an affair with him," he began at last, "go ahead and do 
it. Just try not to lose your head." 

She laughed, a nervous little burst of laughter. "Have an affair? With who, 
for God's sake?" 

"With Jack." 

She took a quick gulp of her drink. She looked down at the floor, then up 
again. Then suddenly she smiled and shook her head. "Oh Bill. Is that what's 
been bothering you these last few days? You think there's something between 
me and Jack?" 

He said nothing. 

She drank again and set the glass on the bar. She walked slowly toward him. 
"Oh no, Bill! No, that is impossible. I suppose I can see how you might 
think it. I see it now. But Jack is Carrol's man. I could never have an 
affair with Jack. I couldn't have an affair with anybody, because you're the 
only man I love. But even if I could do something like that it wouldn't be 
with Jack. Jack and I are just friends, because... because we both love 
Carrol and because we have the swimming in common and... everything." 

She came suddenly to him. She pressed her body against him and kissed him on 
the lips. He stood stiff, unmoving. Then she went past him and down the hall 
to the bedroom. After a moment he followed. The shower was running and 
through the open door of the bath he could see her silhouetted naked body on 
the curtain. He stood still and stiff, trying to believe her, still not sure 
he could. 

Isabel trembled beneath the warm water, her heart pounding in her naked 
breasts. She didn't know what was wrong, why she had lied. She knew that 
just now, just this moment, she'd had the chance to straighten everything 
out. All it would have taken was the truth. She could have told the truth 
and ended the affair. She could have convinced Bill to go have an affair of 
his own, if he needed that, to make him feel better. But instead she had 
lied. And somehow, the lie had excited her. In spite of the fact that only 
moments ago she'd been in bed with Jack, she could feel an urgent tingling 
start to surge out of control through her loins. Oh, it was evil, she knew. 
But the evil only increased her excitement. And this really would be a new 
experience for her. She was going to seduce Bill. She was going to do 
whatever she had to to get him to make love to her, and by that she was 
going to convince him that she had not made love to Jack. 

It would be the first time she'd ever been to bed with two men the same day. 

Outside the door, Bill felt his own heartbeat hasten as he watched his wife 
soap her naked body. He was still angry, but his anger only seemed to 
contribute to his lust. He still didn't know if she was telling the truth, 
but one way or another he was going to fuck her. He was really going to fuck 
the hell out of her today. Then Isabel emerged from the shower, looking out 
through the door with lust-narrowed eyes as she toweled off her voluptuously 
naked body, then dropped the towel and walked slowly through. 

Her heart pounding furiously, the unfaithful wife dropped down on the bed. 
Bill stood still where he was for a moment, just staring silently down at 
her, then he came over and sat beside her. A moan welled in her throat as 
his hands reached out to grab her and rove brutally over the yielding 
nakedness of her flesh, his fingers digging frighteningly into the softly 
quivering mounds of her naked breasts. He stroked over her hips in rough 
abrasive gestures which evoked, in spite of their gruffness, a familiar 
tingling response through her suddenly throbbing vagina. A thrill of 
excitement rippled over the entire surface of her naked skin and for a 
moment she tried to let herself imagine this was going to be like the 
lovemaking they had experienced before, before her self-destructive 
compulsion had in one quick week almost rent asunder their married life 
together. Then, just as she was beginning to enjoy the caress, she felt 
Bill's fingers cruelly tighten on her hips and suddenly against her will she 
found herself being turned over face down on the bed. 

He forced her to kneel up on her knees, her head pressed down into the 
pillow, and in spite of all her efforts to resist her nose and mouth were 
buried into the soft material so she couldn't even offer a vocal protest. 
She could feel the trembling of Bill's hands as he'd moved her into 
position, and she realized that he was even angrier than she'd thought. She 
remembered the brutal way he'd made love to her the night after the party 
when she first met Jack O'Niel, and she had her first inkling that this 
afternoon he might be even more aggressive. 

Then she shivered as she felt his hands working at her defenselessly 
proffered ass-cheeks, his fingers digging like claws into the skin between 
them. "Oh, be careful," she moaned. "You're hurting me!" 

The strain on her body was agonizing as he used his thumbs to separate the 
satin-skinned mounds of her buttocks, and she heard the quick intake of his 
breath as the secret warm crevice between them came fully into view. This 
was something she hadn't been prepared for and she hoped he would be 
satisfied without further humiliating her before his eyes. But then she. 
received an even greater shock as Bill leaned suddenly forward and she felt 
the hotly flicking tip of his tongue licking wetly right up between the 
widespread, helplessly proffered mounds of her defenselessly clenching 
buttocks. A low gasp escaped her and she wiggled forward in a frantic 
attempt to elude the teasing sensation. 

"Hold still!" Bill growled, digging his teeth animal-like into the yielding 
flesh of her ass. 

"Ouch!", she cried. "Stop it. Please! That hurts." 

He held on for a moment longer, clinging tightly to her soft skin with his 
teeth. Then he let her go and once again Isabel dared hope she'd been 
spared. But seconds later she realized that was not the case. Again she felt 
her painfully quivering buttocks being forced apart from the outward 
pressure of his thumbs. And then her eyes bulged in disbelief as she felt 
the distinct prodding of his out-stretched finger right against her cringing 
little anus. She couldn't imagine what he was going to do, but she tried to 
edge away from the intolerable pressure against the tiny rubber-like 
opening, and she felt a strange terror creeping like cold fingers up her 
spine. Fear numbed her brain and paralyzed her limbs and her mouth felt 
suddenly chalky dry. 

"No, Bill. Please, noooooo!" she wailed as she felt his finger press harder 
and suddenly slip with a pop right up into the crinkled little hole. 

Bill stared down hungrily at the smooth swells of his wife's subserviently 
spread ass-cheeks and the wildly exciting view of his middle finger half 
embedded into her tight back passage. He grinned savagely to himself as he 
relished the act to which he was about to subject her, driven to sadism by 
the gnawing suspicions that continued to plague him in spite of her 
insistent denial. Then he grunted with his own building anticipation as he 
thrust his finger forward again, slowly sinking it deeper, burrowing it 
inward until it was buried to the last knuckle deep into her rubbery anal 
tightness. 

Ignoring her cries of fear and pain, Bill dug brutally into Isabel's 
cringing rectal depths, intent on shaming and humiliating her for the 
unhappiness she'd put him through this last week. Her tiny puckered little 
asshole was warm and throbbing around his finger, but it was only as he felt 
its thrilling caress that he became fully convinced to carry through the 
fantasy that had seized his consciousness when he saw her emerge from the 
shower. He couldn't be sure her apparent willingness wasn't just a cover-up, 
and just in case he was going to give her a little more than she expected. 
He was going to fuck her from the rear, and not just dog-fashioned either. 
It was going to be in the asshole, the only orifice she had that still 
remained unused. 

Isabel was in an agony of mortification and pain. It was too much. What he 
was doing to her was inhuman and sick, and desperately she tried to crawl 
free and dislodge his painfully skewering finger from her rectum and free 
herself from the terrible impalement. 

"Keep still, goddamn it!" Bill rasped again. "Keep still or I'll take off my 
shoe and cram my whole goddamn foot up your ass!" 

The sobbing brunette suddenly became motionless. He really wasn't kidding, 
and she knew there was no hope in struggling further. She didn't want to 
make him any angrier than he already was, and hot tears of misery coursed 
down her face as she reminded herself that actually she deserved all the 
pain he might want to inflict. He hated her, and he had every right to after 
the way she had deceived him. 

Isabel's kneeling body felt cramped and her tiny anal opening was throbbing 
unbearably, but as she realized her own guilt her pain became nothing 
compared to her mental agony. And this, she realized, was the answer. By 
allowing Bill to hurt her as she knew her extramarital affair was already 
hurting him, she might be able to expiate her terrible guilt. And she 
dwelled on this positive angle so intently that she hardly even noticed when 
Bill finally withdrew his finger from her anus. She only half-consciously 
noted the sound of his zipper being undone, and she was completely 
unprepared as she suddenly felt the hotly pulsing head of his cock replace 
the finger up in the warmly forbidden crack. 

Bill gazed leeringly down at his hugely throbbing penis poised at Isabel's 
tightly clenched anal ring. He recalled noting from the bulge in Jack 
O'Niel's bikini bathing suit that the other man was really well-hung, 
perhaps even better than himself, and that aspect of the situation had also 
caused him considerable discomfort the last few days. If Jack had been 
getting into his wife, then he, Bill, might be suffering from the 
comparison. But as he positioned his lust-swollen cock-head even harder 
against the small, fearfully closed ring of Isabel's anus he saw that when 
he got it into her his penis was going to seem the size of a baseball bat. 
It was going to hurt her, he knew, but maybe it would also teach her a 
lesson. 

Then with an angry growl, Bill lunged forward to shove his blood-heavy penis 
even harder against the slavishly clenching little opening of his wife's 
rectum, trying with all his might to insert its menacing thickness into the 
impossibly tiny aperture. At first it seemed that no matter how hard he 
pushed he wasn't going to be able to get it in. It blunted against the 
tightly resisting orifice or slipped downward toward her wetly moistened 
cunt. He heard Isabel's muffled gasp of pain turn to a moan of alarm as he 
rammed forward a second time, but still found it futile. He hesitated, 
cursing under his breath in frustration, and then, blinded by his perverse 
lust and fury, he drove his hips forward with all his strength to shove them 
straight up against her clenching ass-cheeks. Heedless of her cries of 
terror and pain, he lunged all the way up against her, ignoring everything 
but his overwhelming compulsion to hurt her. 

"A a a a aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh! My God, Bill! Stop! Please stop!" 

Her shrill scream reverberated loudly through the room as Bill succeeded in 
popping just the head of his massively palpitating cock up inside her vainly 
resisting anal opening. Grunting, he held his blood-swollen shaft positioned 
there and flexed his hips forward again, driving relentlessly inward to ram 
his long hard penis deeper and deeper up into her heatedly cringing anus. 

"Stop. My God, you're killing me," Isabel moaned again as her white buttocks 
levered up, impaled helplessly by the brutally surging rod of flesh. 

Pain jolted through her body like an electric shock and for the moment 
nothing seemed to matter but that she rid herself of this cruelly thrusting 
pole of flesh surging in between her naked buttocks. But her struggles were 
fruitless as Bill continued to plow his thick penis ever deeper into her 
tightly resisting back passage, his fingers digging like talons into her 
naked and tender ass-cheeks to hold her still in position before him. 

Inch by agonizing inch, he fucked his long hard cock up into her rectum, his 
eyes closing in his exertion, beads of perspiration breaking out all over 
his face. 

"Ooooooh God! Stop it!" she screamed, her beautiful face twisting in torment 
until she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily against the 
quaking softness of her ass. The cruel fleshy, thickness was buried in her 
to the hilt and now there was no escape. 

Behind her, Bill snickered sadistically and flexed his penis deep within the 
confines of Isabel's stretched anal orifice. She heard him laughing harshly 
and she groaned in anguish and humiliation as he flexed deep inside her. The 
excitement she had felt before had been ripped away by the reality of the 
overpowering presence of that pulsating rigidity thrust deep in her anus. 
She had never felt so soiled in her life and Bill only added insult to 
injury as he began to saw rhythmically in and out of the tiny hole, sinking 
his cock viciously into the unnaturally impaled depths of her obscenely 
violated rectum. 

Sobs of pain and misery began to fall from Isabel's lips as he lunged the 
full length of his punishing rod again and again up into her asshole with 
searing smooth strokes. He gloated over the sight of her pinkly clasping 
flesh pulling out with the thick base of his cock every time he withdrew it 
for another violent lunge up inside. She was feeling it, all right, he 
thought triumphantly. Now he was really getting to her. 

But to her amazement, Isabel gradually became aware that the agony she'd 
initially experienced at the cruel penetration was beginning to diminish. 
The pain was becoming strangely almost pleasurable and she was beginning to 
derive a weird masochistic enjoyment from his skewering thrusts into her 
ass. Tentatively now she moved back to meet him, and as she began to respond 
she felt the first stirrings of a new and crazy passion she'd never known 
before in her life. She was expiating her guilt and she was beginning to 
enjoy it. She began to twist and wave her slavishly upthrust buttocks back 
violently against him as if in lewd invitation for him to fuck into her even 
deeper and harder. Her ass-cheeks were swinging m tiny rotating circles, 
clenching tightly around his cock with a slight throb of her rectum every 
time he lunged against her. 

Sweat poured freely down Bill's face now as he stared in sadistic delight at 
the sight of his balls smacking resoundingly against Isabel's moist cunt 
every time he sunk his penis into her wide-split nether crevice. He was 
doing it to her, sodomizing her like he'd never done it to anyone in his 
life, and she was loving it. She wiggled her buttocks wildly and the long 
dark locks of her hair whipped softly over her shoulders as she bucked in 
frantic effort to take more and more of his lewdly vanquishing cock up into 
the tight warm hole of her rectum. 

"Oh fuck me," she moaned beneath him as he pressed forward as far as he 
could, pulling the softly yielding cheeks of her buttocks wide apart to 
better reveal the forbidden little orifice to his gaze. He shoved deeper and 
deeper into her, holding his penis embedded far up inside and flexing it 
teasingly to prompt additional impassioned squirmings of her buttocks back 
against his loins. 

With long smooth strokes, Bill resumed the lewd pistoning into his wife's 
quivering anus. He rammed into her hard and deep with powerful lunges that 
wracked her body down against the bed. The sweat from his forehead spilled 
onto her lovely hollowing back, glistening on her soft amber skin. His 
breath came in short strained gasps and he gripped the tops of her thighs 
with his fingers, squeezing with all his might to pull her back over his 
hotly expanding cock as though he were fitting on a boot. And he relished 
the animal groans of mixed pleasure and torment with which she responded to 
his lewd assault. 

Isabel waved her buttocks joyfully back against her husband's pounding 
thrusts, her mind blurred by the intensity of the sensation coursing through 
her naked flesh. She felt almost no pain now, just an exquisite warm wetness 
in the crevice of her ass-cheeks, and she seemed filled as she'd never been 
before. She was his again, his completely to do with as he wished, and he 
possessed her in a way Jack O'Niel never could. She had given Jack her body, 
but now she was offering Bill her soul, and it was a joy for her to submit 
even to this cruel and perverted animal-style rape. She was loving every 
minute of it. She wanted him to cum. She wanted him to cum inside her, to 
shoot his great load of seething cum deep up into her virginal rectum. And 
she strained back eagerly against his burgeoning penis as she felt it throb 
to an even greater size and hardness, stretching the muscles of her 
mutilated anus almost beyond human endurance. 

"Oh cum in me, I love you. I love you Bill, you're the greatest lover in the 
world," she cried deliriously as she felt him thrust the full length of his 
rock-hard cock up into her rectum, his body jerking convulsively from his 
building tension, his hands tearing at her flesh in wild abandon. 

Then Isabel screamed with delight as the first hotly squirting droplets of 
his thick-shooting cum began to spurt hotly up into the furthermost depths 
of her ravished rectum. It surged through her body like a volcanic eruption, 
warming her belly like a tingling hot whirlpool bath as he shoved forward 
with a mighty thrust that made his bloated balls dance over her stiffly 
erected clitoris, setting off her own answering explosion of climax. 

Isabel's body tensed and shuddered as the long-awaited peak of orgasmic 
sensation was finally achieved. Then she gasped as she felt his limply 
deflating shaft being slowly withdrawn from her flooded nether channel. 
There was a slight wet sucking sound as it slipped out from between the full 
clenching moons of her buttocks with a lewd slurping sensation. Then a 
sudden rush of cool air washed over her loins as Bill sagged and rolled off 
and collapsed on the bed beside her. 

Snuggling gratefully against him, she told herself that now everything was 
all right. She had paid for her sins - for those she had committed in the 
past, for those still yet to be done. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Bill Miller downed the rest of his scotch and made his way through the 
dancing couples back to the long table laid out with plates of hors 
d'oeuvres. His left eyelid drooping conspicuously, he gazed down the length 
of it. Most of the plates were wiped nearly clean. A few of them had been 
turned into ashtrays. That was something Bill had never been able to stand. 
People who put their cigarettes out in what was left of their food. His 
general disgust manifest in his face, he made his way along to the bowl of 
black olives, scooped up several and popped them one by one into his mouth. 

Then he returned to the bar and poured himself a drink. He looked up at the 
exposed, steeply slanting roof with the rugged wooden beams. He drank again 
and watched a man on the couch slide his hand beneath a woman's skirt. 
Across the room his wife was surrounded by men, Jack O'Niel and several of 
his friends. She was, as she always had to be, the center of attention. Her 
face was dark and lovely, flushed slightly from the alcohol she'd drunk. She 
was smiling, first at one of them, then at another. She was talking and 
after a moment he discerned that she was telling a joke. He watched her 
goose one of the muscular men in the stomach as she delivered the 
punch-line. 

Bill scowled as he listened to the guffaws that followed. He stared dully at 
a muscular, hairy forearm that slid around Isabel's waist. Not Jack's - one 
of his friends. If Jack O'Niel hadn't actually ever made the Olympic 
swimming team, there were a couple of guys here tonight who had, though 
their prime was years ago and by most of the world they were forgotten. Bill 
had never heard of them, and he wouldn't have cared if he had. But Isabel 
knew all about them. "Isn't it wonderful," she told him earlier in the 
night, once, when they'd passed, he thought, like ships passing in the fog 
in the night, blowing their mournful horns. "These guys," she said, "they're 
celebrities." 

"They're gorillas," Bill said to himself and walked on to the bar. 

And he was here only as a chaperone. He hadn't wanted to come, and he knew 
now it had been a mistake for him to let her drag him along. He chuckled 
sardonically as he remembered what she had said: "Jack wants you to come. 
You just can't refuse. He especially told me to be sure and bring you 
along." 

I don't give a fuck what Jack wants, he thought at the time. But he said 
nothing. He came, because she said that if he didn't she would come with 
Carrol. If she came without him, he knew she would never make it home. And 
if she didn't make it home, she would sleep with Jack O'Niel, if she hadn't 
slept with him already. She would sleep with him and she would lie about it, 
as she'd been lying, he knew, about so many things the last week and a half. 
And that would be the end. That would be the last straw for him. Perhaps, he 
thought, it would be better that way. Perhaps it would never work out 
between them anymore. Maybe the sooner they got it over with the better. 

And the funny thing was, he knew deep down inside she still loved him. 

Bill finished his drink slowly. He focused his gaze on Carrol Haynes, 
sitting alone and morose in one of the easy chairs, an empty drink in her 
hand. She was just as bored as he was, he thought. And she didn't even have 
the option of leaving. He'd heard her remark that she'd driven down with 
Jack this morning. It was her who had done the hors d'oeuvres that had been 
turned into dirty ashtrays. 

Isabel was telling another joke, but now the music had changed and he 
couldn't hear her. Only the laughter and that hairy forearm again slipping 
about her waist told him when she'd reached the punch line, and when she 
reached it he drank the rest of his drink, put a cigarette in his mouth and 
lit the filter and threw it away in disgust, then made his way through the 
dancing couples to the little gathering against the wall. 

"Bill, old buddy!" It was Jack, the only one to immediately acknowledge him. 

"Oh Bill," Isabel said, turning around to face him. "Isn't it the most 
wonderful party." 

"It's great!" He looked at Jack. "This really is the greatest party I've 
ever been to." Jack shrugged. It was obvious he understood. "Let's go," Bill 
said, looking back at Isabel. 

It was almost like it always was. He always came and got her, about this 
time. She always protested and he always insisted. They always had a fight 
and he always won. But just watching the look of sheer incredulity that came 
over her face was enough to tell him that this time it was going to be 
different. The difference was not perhaps that great, but it was crucial and 
it was telling. It was like that one point in the bottom of the ninth inning 
of a tied baseball game, and the game was the seventh game of the World 
Series and the team had already played a hundred and seventy-odd games that 
year and there had been hundreds and hundreds of points but now this point 
was the only one that counted. Before, Bill won the arguments. He was in 
control. He was going to lose this one, and that was to relinquish the 
control. 

"How can you think of leaving?" she was saying. "How can you dream of it?" 
She was looking at him as if the mere suggestion was perverse. "Look around, 
for Christ's sakes! The party is just getting started." 

"No," he said. "The party's over." 

She had turned away. She said something to one of the men, one of the guys 
from the Olympics whatever year that was. Then she looked back. "What'd you 
say?" 

"I said the party's over. I'm going home. Do you want to come or not?" 

"No." 

"All right, then stay." 

He turned and started away, stopped and looked back when she called his 
name: "Bill!" 

"What?" 

"Bill, what in the hell's the matter with you?" 

"I want to go home. Nothing is the goddamned matter with me. If you want to 
come you can come." 

"But I'm not ready." 

"I am." 

He turned and started away. 

"Bill! Bill, damn you. Come back. Come back!" He was going out. "Oh all 
right. Go on, then!" 

* * * 

If he doesn't care, Isabel thought, taking another sip of her drink. He must 
know by now. Or he must know that if he leaves me here without him it will 
happen even if he doesn't know it's already happened before. So if he leaves 
me, knowing that, he doesn't care. 

She turned and looked around the room. She turned back. "Hey Jack, where's 
Carrol?" 

He shrugged, looking around. "I don't know. Maybe she went up to bed." 

"Bill left," she said. "He left about half an hour ago." 

"I know. I was here." 

She moved toward him, her vision blurring as her eyes moved over his body. 
"I guess he doesn't care anymore. He went off and left me here." She put her 
hand up and ran it across his chest. "I don't even know if I have a ride 
home." 

"Don't worry about it. Bill's a good man. He'll understand." 

"Oh Bill? You're goddamned right. He's the best fucking man in the whole 
goddamn world and I love him. You know that. I've always loved Bill and I 
always will love him. You know that, don't you?" 

"Sure, babe." 

"I mean you love Carrol. You love Carrol and I love Bill and we both 
understand each other, don't we?" 

"Sure babe." 

"Oh Jack. I'm horny. Will you make love to me?" 

"Later." 

"No." She pressed herself against him, dropping her glass to shatter on the 
floor at her feet. "I want it now. Please?" 

Jack dropped his hand to pat her on the ripely clenching cheeks of her ass. 
He looked at his friends and smiled. "All right. If you want it that bad 
your sugar daddy's got what you need." He winked at the muscular, bearded 
man standing behind Isabel, his eyes roving with obvious interest over her 
lithe, sensuously squirming body. "This cunt's getting to be a little too 
much," he whispered as he led her past his friend and across to the door. 

She clung to him as they went out and up the stairs. She was giggling, and 
she reached down and unzipped his trousers and began trying to play with his 
penis as they made their ascent. At the landing he turned her and guided her 
to the end of the hall. He threw a switch, somewhere, and what looked like 
just another part of the wall became a door, giving onto another flight of 
stairs, so narrow they could not go up it abreast. He pushed her ahead and 
poked her in the ass with his thumb to prod her along. She went, giggling, 
wiggling her buttocks vulgarly. Halfway up she lifted her skirt to a bunch 
around her waist and he laughed and pulled her panties down so the tight 
waistband hung just below the clefts where her buttocks blended into her 
long sleek thighs, completely revealing the ripe half moons to his gaze and 
touch. 

A small landing at the top of these stairs gave off to a cozily furnished 
bedroom. Inside, Isabel turned to face her lover, standing on her tiptoes to 
throw her arms around his neck and shower hungry kisses on his face. Her 
skirt still hung bunched at her waist and her panties were still pulled down 
in the back. In the armoire mirror Jack observed her nakedly squirming 
buttocks as she ground her loins up against the bludgeoning erection already 
beginning to fill his trousers. Well, he thought, she was pretty much of a 
mess tonight. But he suspected there was still some fun to be had with her, 
at least one last time. 

Then suddenly she pulled back away from him and began unbuttoning her dress, 
quickly pushing it off her shoulders and letting it fall away from her 
voluptuous torso. She swayed drunkenly on her feet as she stripped, but in 
spite of the alcohol she'd imbibed, the intoxicated brunette could feel a 
maddening surge of want beginning to course through her thighs and loins. 
Tonight, for the first time since she'd begun her illicit affair, she would 
actually be able to sleep with her adulterous lover. They had all the time 
they wanted, and she was determined to exploit the occasion for all the 
depraved excitement it had to offer her. Then tomorrow she would worry about 
patching things back up with her husband. 

Jack O'Niel's conceited smirk seemed to hang perpetually on his face as he 
watched the sensuous brunette strip down completely naked and recline on the 
bed, a look of wanton invitation shining in her flashing black eyes. He 
consciously flexed his muscles as he peeled off his own clothes, then moved 
quickly to join her. He'd actually been planning on picking up something new 
tonight, but if she was so insistent, he supposed the least he could do was 
go ahead and service her. Besides, Steve and Tony, two of his old buddies, 
hadn't been doing too well in the ladies' department tonight. There were a 
couple of girls from Santa Barbara who were supposed to come down and he'd 
had them in mind for his friends. But they hadn't shown. So it looked like 
Isabel might have to work over-time tonight. 

Jack settled down onto the bed, then hesitated for a moment, trying to 
decide exactly how he wanted to begin. He was going to need a little 
variation to get her started. Dog fashion was always good for that, in his 
experience, and quickly he reached down to pull at her waist and twist her 
forcibly over onto her stomach, shoving her thighs roughly up beneath her to 
force her naked buttocks high in the air. Giggling, Isabel submitted, her 
sensuously aroused body already starting to betray her as she experienced a 
surge of masochistic arousal from her shame and embarrassment at allowing 
Jack to see her assume such a degrading and vulnerable position. 

Then quickly he moved up behind, shoving his knees between hers to spread 
her inner thighs until he had total access to her quivering loins. Her fully 
rounded ass-cheeks bore the white pattern of her bikini bottom, contrasting 
sharply to the tan of the rest of her body, and between her thighs he could 
ascertain from the presence of several glistening droplets of female 
lubricant clinging to the soft dark curls of the hair of her cunt that she 
was already excited, almost ready to fuck. Then he reached up beneath her 
body to cup his hands over her full young breasts, giving them both a hungry 
squeeze and feeling his cock twitch up even harder against the warm flesh of 
her naked inner thighs. He tweaked and fondled her nipples until she was 
moaning in shameless lust, then moved his hands back to her quivering 
buttocks. 

At the same time he felt her reach between her own thighs to seize his now 
fully erected prick, revealing her urgency and need as she took a deep 
breath and bent it downward to guide it to her open loins. The feel of the 
hard-throbbing maleness made her quaking belly jerk with lewd arousal, and 
then Jack reached around her flanks, pulling her forcibly backward as she 
directed his hungrily twitching penis straight up into the entrance of her 
warm little cunt. 

"Come on," he grunted. "Put it in." 

Wriggling her buttocks involuntarily and shifting her position slightly, 
Isabel placed the rubbery purple cock-tip straight up against the soft 
hair-lined folds of her wet vaginal opening, working it with her hand like a 
lever to part the soft flanges of her hotly aroused cunt. She sucked her 
breath slowly inward, holding herself motionless as she felt Jack's sudden 
devastating thrust, levering himself forcibly up against her. 

Then she moaned deeply as the engorged cock-head broke through her slight 
resistance and the full length of Jack's enormous penis slithered snake-like 
up into the tightness of her cunt. She grunted from the raw searing 
sensation as the plundering tip slammed like a wedge far up against her 
cervix, and for a moment he was still upon her. She could feel the bushiness 
of his pubic hair against her upturned buttocks and his sperm-bloated balls 
hung obscenely against the little button of her clitoris. And then, though 
she still hadn't quite adjusted to the filling entry, he began to stroke in 
and out of her tightly clasping cuntal softness, the long hard surges 
pounding deep up into her womb, driving relentlessly against her cervix to 
prompt little mewls of drunken passion to issue almost incoherently from her 
lips as she twisted and writhed in helpless subjugation before him. 

Jack fucked his long cock brutally in and out of the tightly throbbing 
passage of Isabel's open pussy. He was making no effort to control himself 
tonight. This was only the beginning, and for Steve and Tony's sake it was 
probably better if he didn't completely satisfy her. He held her resilient 
buttocks tightly in each hand as he sawed the thick hardness of his cock 
deep inside her helplessly accepting cunt, his loins making a hard slapping 
sound as they spanked wildly against the undulating half-moons of her ass. 

Isabel arched her buttocks higher, craning her neck to allow her to look 
back between the swinging mounds of her breasts to observe the obscene 
violation of her quivering cunt. Jack's penis would withdraw until only the 
fiery tip remained embedded between her tingling cunt-lips, then drove back 
down the slickly clutching channel with increasing relentless fury. She 
could see the lips of her cunt nibbling at it hungrily, drawing it deeper 
and deeper inside her until it filled her completely. And her ass was 
waggling completely out of control. She was moaning and sobbing like a 
prisoner being tortured, the muscles of her upthrust ass-cheeks flexing each 
time he withdrew as if to suck his swollen cock to the depths of her belly, 
and already she was beginning to experience the first pre-ecstatic waves 
surging completely out of control through her naked breasts and loins. It 
was as if she were being accelerated down a train track to the closest thing 
to heaven a sheer mortal could ever enjoy, and the words poured deliriously 
from her throat as she voiced out her consuming need. 

"Oooooh yes!" she cried. "Fuck me, Jack. Oh fuck me, fuck me!" 

Jack's churning cum swollen testicles felt as if they were ballooning out of 
his testicles, and he knew there was no reason to hold back any longer. The 
head of his penis pulsed inside Isabel's wetly pulsating cunt-passage and he 
drove to the maximum depth, his searing semen squirting in a great hot 
torrent from the glans at the inflamed and dilated tip. And for a moment he 
thought Isabel was going with him. Then he frowned, his ego wounded slightly 
in spite of his general unconcern as he heard her sudden desperate oral 
protest. 

"Oooooohhh! Wait! Noooooo!" she cried. She was going to cum. She was on the 
verge and then Jack had slipped. He had let it go too soon. The liquid fiery 
heat was pumping irretrievably into her loins but she wasn't quite ready for 
it. He was reaching the peak of his energy and he was leaving her behind, 
refusing to push that extra little distance she had to go before she would 
have also felt the heat and ecstasy of explosive release. For a moment their 
bodies had almost fused, as they'd done all the previous times they'd been 
together. But now he had failed her. He was still upon her as she jerked and 
convulsed in little spasms of frustration, his penis already beginning to 
limply deflate up in her unsated loins. 

"Please, Jack," she whimpered shamelessly, looking back over her shoulder at 
his smirking face. "I'm not ready. I need more." 

To her astonishment he grinned and drew suddenly out of her. "You need more? 
All right, nymph. Wait here just a minute." 

As Isabel stared in resentful confusion, Jack got up suddenly from the bed 
and pulled on his trousers. Then shirtless and barefoot, he went out of the 
room. Still writhing with uncontrollable need, she listened to his footsteps 
descend the stairs. Unable to resist, she reached down between her thighs to 
cover her hand over her burning cunt in a desperate attempt to sate herself. 
Then she drew it quickly away as she heard him ascending again, her eyes 
widening as she realized he was not alone. 

Isabel was too surprised to move, and she didn't even have the presence of 
mind to pull a cover over her naked body as the door opened and Jack came 
back in, followed now by his two equally muscular friends, Steve and Tony. 
And from the look in their eyes as they observed her helplessly vulnerable 
body, she realized this wasn't just a social call. 

"All right, buddies," Jack said. "She's ready and waiting. Take her away." 

"Oh my God," Isabel moaned. What on earth was he talking about? 

"I'll take firsts," Tony said, jerking his T-shirt off in a sudden motion to 
reveal his powerful biceps and chest. 

"Over my dead body," said Steve, ignoring his shirt and beginning to quickly 
undo his belt. "I never went in for sloppy seconds." 

"I don't understand," Isabel whispered dazedly, still finding it difficult 
to grasp what they had in mind. Then she suddenly stiffened as Steve yanked 
his jockey shorts down and his penis came suddenly into her view. 

"Oh my God," she whispered with disbelief. "It can't be true. It can't be 
true." 

Never had Isabel seen anything like it in her life. Steve's cock was 
breathtakingly large, hanging still limp and dangling half-way to his knees, 
surrounded by a thick bush shoved of curling black hair. It was enormous. No 
woman could ever take that inside her vagina, and with conscious effort 
Isabel forced herself to look away as she tried to get her panic in check. 
Then, feeling the bed sag beside her, she looked suddenly back to see that 
Steve was already climbing up to join her, and she realized with a sinking 
sensation that looking away like an ostrich burying its head was not going 
to help. This was no dream, no mere sex fantasy that she could wish away. 
This was all really happening. He was really going to try to fuck her with 
that monstrous cock, and even in all her lingering, consuming lust she was 
sure it would be more than she could bear. It was too big. It would split 
her apart at the seams. 

"Turn her over," Jack directed as Tony also clambered onto the bed. "Nobody 
has to take seconds. She's got a mouth too." 

"Oh my God," Isabel cried again as she realized what they were talking 
about. "You must be joking. I can't do that." 

But they didn't even seem to hear her. Before she could move to defend 
herself Steve's hands were upon her, rolling her to her belly, then seizing 
her satin-skinned buttocks to jerk her into the same humiliating posture 
Jack had forced her to assume before. She swayed weakly, her shame and 
terror almost causing her to faint, and then she opened her eyes wide as the 
over-endowed swimmer positioned himself behind her and she felt her legs 
being brutally and forcibly apart. Every muscle in her body felt as though 
it were being stretched beyond belief, and her thighs were completely open, 
offering the plane of her pussy helplessly up to the hulking muscle man who 
was already starting to mount her like a bull from behind. There was nothing 
she could do to defend herself. Her loins were his to plunder at his will. 

Steve grinned at Isabel's inverted cuntal triangle with undisguised lust, 
stroking his immensely dilated cock with his hand in greedy preparation for 
the brutal assault he was about to launch. Then suddenly and without further 
preparation, he inserted the blood-engorged cock-tip straight up between her 
thighs, his buttocks jerking as he lunged swiftly forward and with one 
brutal lunge shoved the huge, bulbous tip of his penis up between her legs 
and into the fleshy folds of her inner cuntal depths. 

"Aaaaagggghhhh!" she moaned, tossing her head insanely from side to side 
from the sheer raw sensation of the unnatural penetration. 

And as the cruel entry continued with relentless force, she felt the other 
athlete moving into a kneeling position in front of her, his own rock-hard 
cock waving in obscene naked erection right before her face. Steven grunted, 
surging forward again to impale even deeper into her, and as she jumped 
forward in retreat from the searing pain, her startled face ran head-on into 
the thickly surging phallus. It shoved without warning between her moist 
parted lips into the warm saliva of her mouth, almost gagging her as it 
plunged nearly halfway down her throat. 

Then, almost in time, the men began to fuck her back and forth from both 
ends, buffeting her as their cocks simultaneously plunged in and out of her 
helplessly violated orifices. For a moment it was almost more than she could 
bear. The pain in her cunt was an outrageous burning presence that nearly 
pushed her into the escape of unconsciousness, and the thought of having her 
mouth used in this degrading and obscene manner demoralized her beyond 
anything she had ever known. But there was no escape. She remained awake, 
helplessly pinioned and wracked between them, and somehow finally her body 
began to adjust. Her pussy muscles stretched beyond all recognition, and the 
unspeakable subjugation to which she was being subjected began to course 
through her tortured flesh. 

She was being fucked. She was getting more of what she so badly had needed, 
and even if it killed her she knew she'd never escape this ordeal without 
first obtaining her release. Then at last, cautiously, she began to rotate 
her buttocks backwards to meet Steve's wracking lunges, at the same time 
beginning to lick and suck in servile dog-like obedience to the penis 
plunging again and again between her ovaled lips. 

"Oh God," she groaned inaudibly as they pummeled her lust-driven form back 
and forth between them, using her captive body as a shameless receptacle 
into which they would both pump their building sperm. The very debasement of 
her situation and the obscene humiliation of being used at once by both of 
the muscular grunting men caused the secret desire welling through her, 
building to burst into full bloom, and she began to roll her upthrust 
buttocks in luxuriating circles, tightening her cruelly ravished cunt 
muscles wantonly around the cock skewering into her from behind and at the 
same time increasing her submissive sucking on the rod of flesh that filled 
her ill-used mouth. She was giving in completely now and she wanted to milk 
them both dry until she was filled from one end to the other with their 
lewdly flowing cum. 

And behind her Steve was building swiftly toward the end, thrusting into her 
harder and faster, battering mercilessly against the upturned crevice of her 
wantonly yielding ass. The saliva in her contorted mouth was becoming thick 
and sticky from the emissions of lubricating fluid that seeped from the end 
of Tony's cock, warning her that his ejaculation wouldn't be far behind his 
friend's. And her own excitement was mounting already almost out of control. 
She had never felt so utterly used and debauched in her life, and she sucked 
with all her heart, waggling her upturned buttocks without will to resist as 
she felt her peak's relentless approach. 

There was nothing else in the world now but to please these two wildly 
fucking, lust-crazed men, to wallow obscenely in her own lurid pleasure, to 
give herself completely to the depraved obsession that had overtaken her. 

Then suddenly she felt the cock fucking into her pussy from behind tense and 
inflate even larger. She felt her thighs being swept apart as the 
hairy-chested man drove powerfully up into her, shoving his relentlessly 
hardening penis as far as it would go into her belly to spew his hot teeming 
load of cum in a searing torrent into her wildly contracting cunt. 

Isabel hunched back frenziedly as she felt the seething cum fluids flooding 
hotly into her dilated womb, filling her until she thought she would burst. 
She felt it dribbling back out of the hair-covered lips of her 
forever-stretched pussy and his spasmodic lunges caused her to bury her face 
even more tightly to Tony's loins as his own cock burst forth to fill her 
cheeks with the boiling pungent liquid until she was forced to swallow to 
keep from choking on the fiery gushes of sperm. Her lips clasped tightly 
around the lurching cock-shaft and she was fearful of losing even a drop of 
the precious life-giving fluid. But there was too much, and as she felt the 
spasms of exquisite relief flooding with equal fury through her own ravished 
body, little driplets spilled out from the corners of her mouth, thin 
glistening strands of the viscous milky juice connecting her lips to the now 
deflating penis as it was withdrawn and slipped from her flushed and panting 
face. 

The impassioned brunette continued to hungrily drive her hips back onto the 
monstrously skewering penis that still squirted drop after drop of its 
searing cum into the eagerly working wetness of her cunt, and with a wail 
from between her now tightly clenched teeth she felt her own body soar up 
and explode into what seemed like a shower of tiny blazing stars coursing 
through her being with wild raw ecstasy that sent her brain whirling crazily 
in the orgasmic passion of her release. 

Then at last, her strength gone and a blanket of exhaustion falling over 
her, she sank wearily forward onto the bed and felt the spent cock pop 
lightly from her passion-drenched pussy. She thought she was finished, but 
she should have known that was only the beginning. Jack had gotten excited 
just watching, and he was ready for another go-round. Downstairs an orgy had 
erupted. The whole party turned into a game of musical beds played over the 
entire expanse of the house, and it wasn't long before Isabel lost count of 
the times she was fucked, of the times she climaxed, even of the men who 
fucked her. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Pale and exhausted, Isabel descended from the cab, which she'd had stop at 
the coiner, and started up the street to her house. She hadn't dared take it 
there directly, just as she had not dared let the man who'd driven her back 
to town deliver her to the house. And she could hardly believe the debauched 
orgy and gang-rape to which she'd been such a willing victim last night. She 
had conducted herself like a nymphomaniacal whore and she didn't think she 
would ever live it down. And not only had she awakened in bed with a 
complete stranger - she hadn't been able to find anyone in the house with 
whom she was even mildly acquainted. Jack was gone, as were Tony and Steve. 
It was almost noon, and she didn't know how she was going to explain the 
night to Bill, or excuse herself rather; an explanation of that to anyone 
would have been beyond the range of possibility. 

Her stomach fluttering nervously, Isabel opened the door and stepped inside 
the silent house. She paused, listening for any sign of his presence, then 
tiptoed down the hall. Passing the kitchen door she saw him sitting at the 
table with a cigarette in his hand, a cup of coffee before him, his eyes 
staring dully up. 

"Oh, Bill," she began hesitantly. "Y-you left the party early, I guess." 

He nodded, saying nothing, staring at her blankly, not even as if to 
question. Oh my God, she thought. He was really getting suspicious now. 
Though of course there was no way he could not be suspicious after 
everything that had happened the last two weeks. And yet it seemed almost as 
if he didn't care, as if his suspicion had dulled his feelings. He seemed 
apathetic to her, as if he didn't even care that she'd returned. And that, 
beyond all else, she could not bear. She had to lie. She had to lie and make 
it right. 

Trembling, the distraught brunette crept into the room and sat down across 
from him at the table. "I got too drunk," she said. He said nothing. She 
laughed nervously. "I don't even know what happened. I passed out down there 
and somebody brought me back to Carrol's. I woke up there this morning, a 
minute ago I mean, on the couch." She reached across and touched his hand 
but he didn't seem to acknowledge it. "I'm sorry, Bill. I'm so sorry. I 
promise it won't ever happen again." 

He sighed and put his cigarette out in the ashtray. She sat still for a 
moment longer, looking at him pleadingly though now he would not look back. 
Then she rose suddenly and went out of the room. She fled down the hall to 
the bedroom, fell sobbing onto the bed. Perhaps for a moment or two she 
slept, for the next thing she was conscious of was a gently falling rain on 
the window, a rain that had come suddenly in from the sea upon a day that 
had begun under a sky that was sunny and clear. Watching the falling drops, 
she thought it was fitting. 

Then she stood, sighing wearily, and walked back out and down the hall to 
the kitchen door, where she found him sitting still in the same place at the 
table. 

"I'm... I'm going back over to Carrol's for a few minutes," she said. 

He looked up and nodded, but she averted her eyes. Feeling utterly broken 
and ashamed, she turned away and rushed to the door. She walked swiftly out 
into the cool gentle rain and away down the street, rushing to her friend's 
door, entering without a knock. "Carrol?" 

"I'm in the kitchen," she heard her friend say, and from the quivering of 
her voice she realized something was wrong and rushed quickly to the door. 

Carrol was sitting at the table, as Bill had been. She had been crying. Her 
eyes were red and her face was streaked with fresh-shining tears. There was 
an envelope marked Isabel lying on the table before her. 

"Jack left," she said in hardly more than a whisper. 

"What?" 

"He went to the East Coast for the fall. He broke it off with me, our 
engagement." She shook her head. "If you could ever really call it that. He 
just said it was over, but of course it was over long ago." She retrieved 
the envelope and held it toward Isabel. "He left this for you." 

Unable to comprehend the relief, the sensation of almost elation she felt 
welling in her breast, Isabel took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a 
short note: Isabel, Think it's time I'm moving on. It was fun. 

Goodbye, Jack She read it once, then read it again, then tears filled her 
eyes with her sudden flooding of relief. It was over, she thought almost 
with wonder. It was over, the whole crazy affair, and she knew that this was 
the best thing that could have ever happened to her. It was a chance for her 
salvation, for her to save her marriage. She could go back to Bill now. She 
could give herself wholly to him, as she'd given herself before. She could 
live honestly again, and without guilt. 

"Oh Carrol, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It was all my fault and I know you must 
hate me. I ruined everything for you." 

Carrol shook her head. "No, you didn't. It would never have worked. I was 
kidding myself the whole time. I don't even know why I ever liked the 
bastard." 

Isabel moved forward and put her hand gently on the small blonde's shoulder. 
Then she moved back to the door. "I have to go," she said. "I have to go 
back and start fixing things up with Bill. I love him, Carrol. He's the only 
one I'll ever love." She paused. "I'll come over tomorrow afternoon if you 
want." 

"All right." 

She started to go, then stopped herself. "And Carrol - if Bill says anything 
- he won't - but just in case he does - I told him I slept here on your 
couch. So cover for me if he asks." 

Carol looked up with a deadpan stare and shook her head. "It won't work. I 
rode back from the party with Bill and he slept here with me." 

 CHAPTER NINE 

She ran, stumbling in the grass, across the yards and the drives before the 
houses. Panting, she burst through the door, tears of shame and regret 
filling her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. "Bill? Bill, are you here?" 

There was no answer. Trembling, she tiptoed forward along the hall, past the 
door to the living room, past the door to the kitchen where the table was 
deserted with the ashtray full of cigarette butts and the empty coffee cup. 
She turned away and continued on to the bedroom door. As she pushed it open 
he turned from the closet, looked at her, said nothing and turned back to 
what he was doing. She stopped, biting her lip, gasping to catch her breath. 
Her vision blurred. For a moment she could hardly see. There was something 
that had grabbed her attention, something out of place that momentarily 
eluded it, as if she were blinded or had blotted the sight from her mind. 
Then gradually the open suitcase on the bed materialized in the view. 

She stared at it, her mouth dropping open, her jaw slack. "Bill?" She 
couldn't believe it. It couldn't be. "Bill?" He said nothing. "Bill, look at 
me!" 

He turned and placed a folded shirt into the bag. She came slowly, almost 
shyly, into the room. He looked at her and turned back to the closet. She 
walked on to the edge of the bed. 

"Bill? What are you doing?" He took out a handful of ties. "What are you 
doing?" 

He turned and said simply: "I'm leaving." 

"No." She watched him start to close the bag. "No!" The room seemed to be 
spinning around her, the floor rocking beneath her feet. "No!" she screamed. 
"Nooo! You can't." 

She tried to pull the bag open, to scatter his clothes. He took her arms and 
pushed her away, though she tried to melt against his chest. He left her 
half balanced against the wall and picked up the bag and walked to the door. 
Belatedly she ran after him, catching him halfway to the hall, screaming 
deliriously and tearing at his jacket. "Bill, my God. Bill, what are you 
doing? You can't leave me. You can't." She pushed in front of him, blocking 
his path, fresh tears flooding from her eyes as she felt the very reason for 
her existence slipping irretrievably from her grasp. 

"I'm sorry," she cried. "It just happened. And now it's over. Jack's gone, 
and I'm glad he's gone. I want you. I don't want anybody else but you." 

He pushed her gently out of the way and went out the door into the rain. 
Standing framed in it, she watched the taxi turn at the corner and slow as 
it neared the house. "Bill, please! Please, my God!" He walked toward the 
street. She went out onto the porch. "Then... then, are you coming back?" 

He stopped and turned. He didn't speak. He only shook his head, but she knew 
he was not. Running down into the yard into the rain as he got in the cab 
and sat stiffly and stoically, not looking back as it pulled away, she knew 
that last shake of his head was his final, unimpeachable word. 

And she would have died. If she could have willed it then, wished her spirit 
out of her body, she would have given up all the worthless empty years she 
saw spilling out like an endless carpet before her. She would in her 
heartbreak have willingly flown the coop. She would have opted for endless 
sleep. 

But her spirit remained, trapped in her body, the body that had betrayed her 
with its obscene and depraved demands, led her to destroy, as if by her own 
wish, the only thing of value she'd ever really had. 

Her legs went weak as she attempted to climb the steps. She fell, a sobbing 
heap, to her knees. She buried her face in her hands and lay in the wet 
grass and mud beneath the falling rain, knowing that tomorrow she would go 
after him - until she had won him back - proved to him beyond a doubt that 
her love for him was all that mattered in the whole world... 


THE END
