Chapter 4

A sense of foreboding clutched unrelentingly at Faith's guts. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the hairbrush and stepped in front of the full-length mirror in her and Boyd's bedroom. It showed in her face, too. She should be happy, smiling. They were going to a party. Instead, the face looking back at her from the mirror appeared tense and drawn. She forced herself to smile and began brushing her hair.

The sound of spraying water stopped abruptly. Boyd stepped out of the shower, still humming happily, and reached for a towel. Vigorously he began drying the water from his body. Faith shook her head in wonder. How could Boyd feel that way? She hadn't wanted to accept Lucia's invitation herself, and had been sure that Boyd would flatly refuse to go to their party. She'd put off mentioning it to him until this morning, even though Lucia had first asked them to come after they got back from the commissary on Monday.

At the time, she'd told her no. Lucia hadn't argued, and simply changed the subject and went on talking. The next day she'd asked again. Again the answer was a simple no. Lucia hadn't pressed it. The same thing happened on Wednesday. Faith again politely refused on Thursday. This time Lucia wanted to know why. Faith told her.

"Boyd won't come," she'd said unwillingly, sure that Lucia'd want to discuss the sordid details that she herself would sooner leave unspoken. But Lucia'd merely smiled knowingly as she got out a cigarette and lit it. Then she exhaled thoughtfully and looked her right in the eye. "How do you know until you ask him, Faith?"

It was up to Faith then. She could either explain her reasoning to Lucia, that Boyd would never consent to a continued friendship with Dirk after what had happened, or she could save herself the embarrassment of such a personal conversation and tell Lucia that she would ask Boyd. She agreed to ask Boyd if he wanted to attend the party.

Working up the courage to ask him was a difficult thing for Faith to do. Her husband appeared to have forgotten the shameful fact of her adultery. He was treating her better than he had since the honeymoon. Bringing the painful memory back into his consciousness would probably rock the boat quite violently.

Much content with things as they were, Faith avoided the question all Thursday night. She fretted over it all day Friday, finally deciding to mention it to Boyd very casually while they watched TV that night. Her courage failed her. At breakfast on Saturday the invitation still remained unknown to Boyd. It could wait no longer; the party was that night.

Faith drank her coffee and fidgeted until Boyd's cup was less than half full. Not wanting to see Boyd's face when she told him of the invitation, Faith took both cups over to the percolator. With her back to him, she fought to keep her voice nonchalant and told him they were invited to a party at the Leathermans'. The instant and angry no that she expected never sounded.

In fact, there was an awkward pause of several seconds before Boyd replied. When he did, it was to inquire if the party was to be another foursome or if others would also be present.

Four couples in all would be there, Faith told him, her hand trembling as she poured their cups full of coffee. No, she said in answer to his next question, she had nothing else planned. She was halfway back to the table when he gaily remarked that it sounded like a great idea and told her to accept. Faith had damned near dropped both cups of coffee right there on the floor.

Freshly showered and shaved, his hair combed and ready to get dressed, Boyd came naked out of the bathroom. Faith was sitting on the side of the bed, her dress hiked up and one bare foot perched on the edge of the mattress. Four toenails boasted a still-wet coat of sexy pink polish. She dipped the small brush back into the bottle to carry polish to the nail of her big toe.

Boyd went over and took the brush from her fingers. "Let me finish that for you," he offered, kneeling and beginning to paint on the polish before she could object.

His fingers teased ticklingly at the sloping arch of her instep. "Don't, Boyd, don't," she laughed. "Let me do it. You're going to mess it up."

Grinning up at her, he took a firmer hold of her foot and said, "I'll do it right, honey."

And he did. Nimbly he applied a pink coating to her toenail, biting his tongue in concentration all the while he guided the tiny brush. When the nail was covered, he backed away and turned her foot to admire his handiwork. "Good job, huh?"

After examining the results critically, she smiled back at him. "Yes, Rembrandt. It's a good job. Now give me the brush and get dressed while I do my other foot."

"I'll do it for you," he said seriously, putting her foot on the floor and raising the other. He placed the sole of her foot on his bare thigh and reached out to get more polish on the brush.

"But why? You've never offered to do my nails before."

"I dunno... just felt like it tonight."

"But I feel so silly with you kneeling there and painting my toenails. Don't you?"

"No. I don't see anything wrong with it," he returned, finishing the nail of her little toe and dipping back into the bottle for a new supply of polish. "Oh, I don't mean that anything is wrong with it. In fact, I kind of like it."

A nervous little smile played at Boyd's mouth. "Make you feel good?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact... it does. Makes me feel rich... served. Be careful now. Don't smear it."

"Yes ma'am."

The apprehension Faith had felt vanished. She felt in a teasing, playful mood. It was nice! She lay back luxuriously on the bed and sighed. "Tell you what, boy. Do a good job on my little piggies and I'll let you take over the job permanently."

She lay still, smiling contentedly as her husband painted the rest of her toenails. He took the bottle from her hand and capped it. Though her eyes were closed, she knew by the sound when Boyd put the bottle on the nightstand. She thought it rather strange when he picked up her foot.

Then she felt his lips--on the sole of her foot! It was a long kiss, full of emotion! His lips were hot, passionate!!!

"Boyd? Honey! What are you doing?"

He had a sheepish look on his face when Faith sat up, which only puzzled her all the more.

"There," he said, putting her foot down onto the floor. "All done."

He kept kneeling there, holding her foot and looking up at her questioning face. It embarrassed her. "You'd better get dressed," she admonished.

"Yeah. Guess so," he mumbled, reluctantly turning loose of her foot.

He stood quickly and turned away from her to go over and get his shorts from the dresser. But he hadn't turned quickly enough to hide from Faith the cause of his sudden movement. Boyd had a hard-on--painting her toenails had turned him on!!!

Neither Faith nor Boyd were prepared for the sight which greeted them as the Leathermans' front door swung open. A lovely mulatto woman flashed them a warm smile. The fact that a Negress opened the door for them was in itself not unusual. Many of the more affluent citizens of Montgomery had maids. But this girl was obviously not a domestic servant. Girls as pretty as she could find far better jobs than the demeaning and small-paying position of maid. Besides, the Leathermans had no maid.

And this girl, even if they had hired a part-time maid just for the party, could not possibly be hired help. She was out of uniform--damned far out of uniform! The honey-brown face broke into an even wider smile at the Dunstons' mixed reactions. Both their mouths dropped open as they fought a losing battle and let their gazes fall to take in the exotic costume the Negress wore.

She was completely nude down to her small waist. Magnificent breasts stared back at them boldly, then seemed to mock the shocked expressions on their faces as the girl tried in vain to stifle a chuckle and could not keep the feminine globes from jiggling. A flowered sarong was draped about her full, womanly hips, with one side higher than the other. The slope of the garment's top cut just below a delicately indented belly button. Her mirth caused the dark navel to jerk slightly back and forth. It seemed to be winking at them.

Sarong doesn't adequately describe the girl's flimsy covering. Mini sarong would give a better picture. Its bottom hem came down almost halfway to her knees but an inverted V was cut in the front, its point stopping just barely below her pussy. Below the scanty costume two shapely, tan legs tapered to the floor and turned into dainty bare feet with bright red toenails.

"You must be the Dunstons," the girl finally managed to say. "Come in, please. Lucia's busy and asked me to get the door in her place."

"We were invited to a party here tonight," Faith mumbled, as she and Boyd moved around the scantily-clad girl and into the foyer.

"You're at the right house," the girl assured them. She closed the door and snapped the lock. "I'm Tanya," she said, moving toward them gracefully.

Somewhat awkwardly, Boyd introduced Faith and himself. He offered his hand and smiled, then appeared suddenly nervous when Tanya moved against him and kissed him instead of taking his hand.

"You're cute, Boyd," she said as she stepped back. "Cute Southern white men have always been my greatest weakness."

Boyd's collar got awfully tight as he glanced over at Faith. Her scowl bore into him, making him shift uneasily and clear his throat.

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, honey," Tanya said as she moved to Faith and kissed her, too. "It's the way they talk. I could listen to that drawl for days on end."

"Are you a party guest?" Faith asked. She felt like adding or one of the hired help after the way Boyd responded to the dark girl. But she did not.

Faith bit her tongue. She hadn't told Boyd about dancing with the handsome Negro. Lucky she hadn't let the catty remark slip out. From the semi-sweet tone of Tanya's answer she felt sure that she knew about it, and would probably be quite glad to let Boyd in on the secret. Faith forced a convincing smile. "I'm happy to know you, Tanya." Tanya kissed her again, this time letting her breasts brush intimately against Faith's. "You are a doll. Just as pretty as Lucia said you were, and just as sweet. Come on," she said, taking both Boyd and Faith by the hand, "Let's join the party."

"It's down in the orgy r--in the rumpus room," she quickly corrected herself. "Watch your step, now," she advised, leading the way down the basement stairs.

"Maybe we ought to get ourselves home," Faith whispered.