Chapter 2

As I got dressed for work, I thought about seeing Wendy lying there naked. She had the sultriest burning hot-looking body I had ever seen. Of all the books and magazines I had ever seen, she evoked the most visceral reaction in me. She had not seemed to mind me looking at her at all. Most women would have squealed or screamed and hidden themself. Wendy had semi-languidly covered her glorious body. That confused me to no end.

I had a shift in an hour. Being ex-military, I always showed up early to ensure I got a good turnover. If you showed up exactly on time, you got one minute of turnover. Which was as low in quality as it was in quantity. I was serious about my job. The company was big, and it did have a hierarchy where I could advance up the chain. Starting my evening without knowing how things have been going is not practical.

I told Wendy I wished I could be there when Bob got home. I still needed to learn how he would react. I didn’t say it, but Bob could go from 0 to 100 in a second. He could be really hot-tempered. I expected him to make an ass of himself. I wished I was there to tone him down.

She returned from her room just as I was getting ready to leave. Oh boy. She had changed into tight short shorts and a tube top. Well, she would get Bob’s undivided attention, if nothing else. The arguing may happen tomorrow.

It would be almost impossible for anyone to get angry with her dressed that way. Bob could begin to erupt, but his pecker would immediately take control of his mind.

I left for work in the bug. I have a bike now, but you never know when it might rain.

My job was at a large mall. It had several anchor stores and innumerable other small ones. We had two men on a shift 24/7. We had a little Datsun pickup we rode around in with a blue light on top. We also toured the entire inside hallways once every hour. Hourly every door was checked. We were always together except for bathroom breaks.

Chuck, the other guard, and I were responsible for locking up the mall at 9 pm. The day shift opened the semi-hidden mall delivery doors at 8 am for employees and opened the mall just before 9 am.

I liked the job and enjoyed talking to people. The guard I was usually with, Chuck, was older, and he tended to act fatherly toward me. I learned a lot about people and women, in particular from him.

I mentioned to Chuck, about Wendy’s arrival at my place. How her feminine attributes and blond beauty complicated things for Bob and me. Chuck put it into perspective for me.

“Bill, “Wendy and Bob had never really met. Wendy is looking for a husband. Period. She’s on the hunt. Any husband would do as she felt her baby-making clock was ticking. It’s how farm girls are brought up. Country girls have the idea that they are getting old if they are not married right after high school. She was hot to trot to build her nest. Put in the perspective of a young woman driven to find her man. To have her children while she’s still young.”

I said, “I know Wendy has passed over the men in her hometown. They smelled and were unpolished, according to her. I may be as good of a choice as Bob. Wendy and Bob didn’t really know each other. I owned a house, and Bob had started getting fat after the army. I go to a gym most days.”

Well, that threw a fox into the hen-house.

“Bill, from her point of view, if Bob is even slightly an asshole to her, she would stick her claws into you. She was purposely displaying herself to you. (I had wondered.) It seems she has shown you the goods a few times. I think she already has her claws in both of you guys. It will be fun to see which she pulls in for the kill. Ha ha.”

Chuck had a lot more experience than I with the ways of women. I was, at the least, her backup plan. If Bob is not attentive, he’ll be out. That’s if he’s even interested in her permanently. He doesn’t treat her like he wants her, more like a date. He keeps her away at arm’s reach.

I spent a lot of the night silent as we did our jobs. I had too much on my mind. Bob had been a good friend for a couple of years now. I was enamored with Wendy. Honestly, I had so little experience that I didn’t trust my mind. I questioned my motives and my loyalty to Bob.

On the other hand, I knew Bob would not hesitate in the same situation to cuckold me. Bob’s a good guy, but to him, pussy is pussy. It’s all about Bob. You had to take him as he was. He didn’t hesitate to take the last beer, even if it was a special beer you bought for yourself. We had argued a few times over his eating my food and only sporadically buying things for himself. He also purposely bought food I wouldn’t eat.

Do I really owe him anything? I hoped they had a big fight and she would continue to seduce me. The fallout would be immense. Bob was the only friend I had in this area. If he left, that would simplify everything.

I got home, and they were having coffee. I was tired, but I needed to find out how things went. I could tell by Bob’s smile she had fucked the shit out of him. Oh well, there went that idea. I said my good nights, or my good mornings in this case, and headed off for bed.

My bedroom is very dark. I have two sets of drapes that cut off all light. The only light in my bedroom is from under the doors. One is the door to the hall, and the other is my door from the master bedroom into the house’s only bathroom. I needed to brush my teeth and take one last leak.

I was standing there peeing when the door opened, and Wendy stepped in.

She said, “Oh, sorry. Don’t you guys ever lock the doors?” She looked down as she waited for me to answer. I saw the look in her eyes. I had seen Bob’s dick. He was probably average. I was an XXL. Her eyes opened wide, and she backed out and shut the door.

She mumbled, “Sorry.”

I never answered her and went back to sleep. As I drifted off, I thought, “My house, my rules.”

Bob works Monday through Friday from 9 to 7 or later. He works as an installer at a muffler shop. I usually work the 7-to-7 nighttime shift on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

I came out of my bedroom around 3:30. Her eyes ate me up. I had a pair of shorts on because she was here. I also had on a T-shirt and sandals. Men’s shorts in the ‘70s in Florida were obscenely short. When wearing shorts, I had to wear tighty-whities to keep my stuff in. Usually, at home, I wear boxers. It’s so much more relaxed and cooler.

Wendy had a different pair of short shorts on. They were so tight her pussy was outlined in some positions. She had on a knit top that did a cross-over thing. It crossed over one tit, went around her back and crossed over the other, and was tied low in the back.

She said, “If you take me grocery shopping, I will make you guys a nice dinner tonight.”

I said, “That sounds great. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

I thought about her shorts. Did she have them pulled tight to her cunt? Was this more of her “displaying” herself to me? As we shopped, it became apparent she was showing herself purposely. It did make it hard for me to walk around. Any time she leaned over, it seemed I could ‘accidentally’ see almost all of one tit.

My two heads were in a constant argument. The little one said, “Would you look at that neckline?” the big head said, “Stop that now. I will be embarrassed by your behavior.” The argument went back and forth between both heads until I got all the groceries in.

Bob would have to start seriously kicking in some money. I was not going to continue buying food all the time.

We returned, and I sat at the kitchen table as she prepared rib eyes, potatoes au gratin, and a big salad. Oh god, can she cook! We had a small grill on the carport. I wheeled it out onto the side yard. I always felt uncomfortable cooking under the carport roof. I laid the charcoal briquettes. We waited to light it until Bob got back.

Wendy did show me a lot of her left tit. Every time she bent over, it was pretty much in my view. She also rubbed me by accident a few times as she passed by.

The kitchen is a small U shape thing. A small 4-place dinette faces the open part of the U. This was great because it allowed for a nice-sized living room.

It was tight in the kitchen or getting into or out of the kitchen. The space between the fridge and the stove was particularly close. As we moved to put things away together, Wendy seemed to be in physical contact with me constantly. Every time she rubbed her tits on me, they left a blazing trail across my chest.

I sat near the kitchen and turned my chair to face her as she chattered away. I could have moved to another chair, but I enjoyed the attention she gave me. I sat where she could continue to rub on me and torture me with additional peeks of her tits and butt when she bent over. I knew she did this on purpose because she kept finding reasons to display her tits to me. She liked to rub them on me whenever she passed by.

I had enough views at her tits to figure they were much more significant than a mere handful, and I have big hands. Her areolas were about a half dollar in size and almost the same color as her tit. You saw the areola outlines more by the bumps she got from rubbing on me. Her nipples were a good size too. Suitable for a night of debauchery or feeding a brood of babies.

I could tell she grew tired of me not getting more involved.

She said, “I never did say thank you for rescuing me yesterday. It meant a lot.”

I said, “That’s OK. I enjoyed your company. You’re interesting to talk to.”

She said, “I can do a better thank you than that.”

She came over and slid into my lap with her tits pushed into me. She put her arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss. I knew at that time I was fucked. Her lips are full and soft. She knows how to operate them very well. I fell into a deep well of lust. I grew rock hard, and she pulled my hands to her tits.

Somehow her top appeared on the next chair. She continued to kiss me into never-never land. As I palmed those big babies. God, they feel so incredible. Her kisses are a life-changing event. I am being absorbed by her hot, wet kissing of me. I wasn’t kissing her, she had taken over, and I was falling into a deep well as she had her way with me.

We played with each other watching the clock. I undid the front of Wendy’s shorts and got a hand into and under her panties. I’d reached into a cauldron. I rubbed her up and down, and she used her hand to steer me where she wanted me. She soon began shaking.

A few minutes of this and she started to get uncontrolled. She began to whine. It trailed off until I could barely hear it. Then, she began grunting and squealing louder as I rubbed her off, and she was almost convulsing as she came.

After a while, she twitched to a stop and began to calm down. She was almost not solid anymore. I had a puddle of a woman in my lap. Not her excretions. She had melted herself onto me. This was a new experience.

To me, my skin feels cool, dry, and firm. Her skin feels almost moist, but it’s not moist exactly. There’s a warm component under her soft skin calling me. It beckons to me. It makes me want her - a lot!

She grabbed my hand and her top and pulled me towards the bathroom. She stopped for fresh shorts and panties on the way. She sat on the toilet while she pulled me to her by my dick. She stroked me with one hand and dried her puss off with the other. She turned her head and inhaled my dick. Well, the first third of it, anyway.

I looked down at her bare tits and down at her blond muff. I held her tits and felt them up as she sucked me. Her legs are open, and I see flashes of her mysterious pink parts. She began pumping me with one hand and sucking to beat hell. I filled her mouth up in mere moments. I staggered as I was unprepared for the feeling that crashed over me. It’s like my body is short-circuited. God, I needed that!

Not one minute later, I heard the front door close. I closed the bathroom hall door quietly. I stepped into my bedroom, closed the bathroom door behind me, and entered the hall with my empty tea glass in my hand.

As I came down the hall, Bob asked, “Where’s Wendy?”

“I’m not sure. I heard you come in and came out to light the grill. We have steaks for tonight.”

He bought it. Bob is a simple man and easily distracted by anything he likes. In this case, it’s steak.

We had a very close call there. Very troubling, and I was worried about the next couple of days. It was going to be rough. It was evident Wendy was playing both sides. She was going to end up with one of us. She’s too hot. After our little tryst, I thought Bob was not worthy of her. She’s well-built, affectionate to a fault, and so cuddly. I somehow knew Bob was not a cuddler. Around me, he was standoffish to her.

All those “no’s,” he had said to her, were beginning to add up. I could see her glares every time he rejected her in public.

He said, “Hot damn,” to my supper news.

I said, “Exactly. I think she can cook.”

He said, “You gotta love country girls.”

I smiled in answer, and internally, I thought, ‘I think I do, Bob. I think I do.’

He grabbed a beer and followed me out to the grill. I put the fluid on, waited a minute, and lit it. We sipped our beers and talked about things as the coals began to bring on their white crust.

Mostly he talked about Wendy. I knew he had become infatuated with her by the way he spoke. This was a surprise to me. He had avoided her coming here for months. Now I find out he’s infatuated. But what kind of infatuation was it? Was it her healthy, responsive body or the person inside? Somehow he has not elevated her from an abstract object of desire to a living, breathing human woman.

I’m not sure Bob is capable of more than lust. He keeps extolling her virtues which makes it more difficult for me. I already wanted to steal her away. I feel like shit about it.

On the other hand, he does not deserve her. She’s a ten, and he’s a five if you stretch it. He’s buddy material, but I am a forgiving buddy who puts up with much of his shit. It’s a carry-on from being in the army together.

I didn’t get the whole thing he had done, writing letters to strangers and pouring his heart out. Them her taking a bus across the country to meet a complete stranger. I assumed they had sex immediately after their first meeting. Who does that? It’s all beyond my ability to understand.

I put her steak on. First, it was smaller, and she wanted it medium well. Bob and I favored medium rare. A few minutes later, I added ours, stuck my head in, and told her, “5 minutes,” so Wendy could finish the potatoes. She had peeled, boiled, and sliced them. She had also fried them earlier. She had them heating up again and added grated cheese and milk.

The meal was outstanding, and they both acted like they were in love. I went in and changed into Levi’s and a long sleeve shirt.

I came out and said, “I’m going for a bike ride. I’ll see you guys in a couple of hours.”

I got a “Drive carefully from Bob,” Wendy said, “Have fun.”

I found a used 1973 Yamaha TX 500 street bike a month ago. It was light and maneuverable. It’s a natural, fun motorcycle to ride.

I wanted to leave so they had time to have sex a few times without my presence inhibiting them. I also wanted to have a long think about Wendy. She seemed to be hopping back and forth across the fence between Bob and me.