Chapter 1

Dinah's breasts heaved high, the way they did when Fred would run his warm tongue over them, or when his fingers would tingle on her super-sensitive inner thighs. But at the moment, the lovely breasts were heaving out of anger, not out of that cream of passion.

Even so, the nipples stood erect. She never seemed to be able to control that, no matter what the emotion.

"Fred, I wish you wouldn't be so stubborn. You know we need money!"

Striding across the living room, Dinah tossed her mane of luxurious red hair over her shoulder and continued the argument with her husband. For three days now she hadn't gotten anywhere with him but was determined not to give up.

"I'm tired of staying home all day and trying to balance the budget. What if something happens? What if I get pregnant? Your research grant isn't going to take care of that. We have hardly enough to live on as it is."

Fred gave her a wry smile and leaned back in his easy chair, shuffling the newspaper on his knees as he attempted to turn the page. In truth, he actually enjoyed it when she got angry. Her fiery words seemed to match the color of her red hair, and she looked extremely sexy when her hackles were up. Her green eyes flashed like emeralds, her generous breasts heaved under the tight sweater she was wearing and looked as though they would almost burst through the confines. She had a good mind, it was true, but with a voluptuous body like hers, she was hard to take seriously. It was all he could do to keep himself from jumping up and stripping her clothes off, much less pay any attention to her familiar tirade.

He gazed appreciatively at her seductive form, his eyes taking in her lushly ripened breasts with their taut little nipples straining against the thin-knit sweater. She had taken to not wearing a brassiere in an effort to be with the current fashions, and her sensuality was more disconcerting than ever. The sweater clung like a tight-fitting glove to her flesh, displaying her flat abdomen, then tapering down to her slender waist. Her neatly flaring hips and smoothly rounded buttocks were equally well-encased in her tight, daringly short mini-skirt. My God, he thought, she doesn't even realize how sexy she is! She's driving me crazy. Her legs were long and slender, suntanned already, even though it was only early spring, and his gaze had drifted down to concentrate on them.

"Fred, you're not even listening to me," she protested, throwing her hands up in despair. Her piercing tone got through to him finally, making him look up at her face.

"Sweetheart, I've been listening to you for days, and you haven't changed the subject once. I don't want you to take that job at the research center, and that's that. Look, we both had a long hard haul getting me through school, but now that I've got the research grant, I don't want you working anymore. I would think you'd appreciate that. Now come on, why don't we go to the bedroom for a while and calm ourselves down?"

Dinah sighed in exasperation at her husband's sweet tone of voice, knowing exactly what it meant. It meant you're just a sweet cuddly thing with no brains in your body. Your place is in the home. Before their marriage she'd actually enjoyed it when he coddled her, but now it was getting on her nerves. After all, hadn't she gotten a job right after college to support his studies in graduate school? Hadn't she sacrificed her own promising career as a biologist so that he could continue his? It wasn't fair to be treated like an idiot after all she'd done for him. And the irony of it was, he hadn't complained once when she'd worked before. It was only when the research grant had come through that he suddenly showed his true colors as a male chauvinist who wanted to protect and coddle her.

The sudden change in his attitude surprised and upset her. He didn't seem to understand what it was like being cooped up in this small house miles from town and miles from anyone they knew. This deserted stretch of North Carolina Tidewater was a completely alien culture to her; and even the town, Bay Bridge, had little to offer--one movie house, a bowling alley, and a lot of broken down pickup trucks lining the street. At least Fred had his work, and he was earning money, while at the same time collecting data for his PhD thesis. And what was she? Nothing but a fixture like a beautiful piece of furniture.

What really bothered her was that the Center's director, Ralph Tomley, had offered her an administrative job several days ago, but she hadn't mentioned a word of it to Fred, knowing how he felt about the matter. True, it was a glorified secretarial position, but there just might be a chance to move into the marine research field, and maybe she could even do something that would bring her credits towards a Master's degree. She'd told him she would hold back her decision until she'd talked with Fred, but now she decided to take matters into her own hands no matter how much her husband objected. She was sick of the way he was treating her.

"All right," she said finally. "I didn't tell you this before, but Dr. Tomley already offered me a job. And I've decided I'm going to accept whether you like it or not."

Fred suddenly sat forward in his chair.

"Hey, wait a minute, what is this?"

"I'm sorry, that's the way it's going to be. My mind's made up."

In a huff she walked out of the living room as if to end the conversation then and there, leaving Fred in a mild state of shock.

But what could he do? he asked himself. Ralph Tomley must have cornered her at that welcoming cocktail party at his house and offered her the job on the spot. And there certainly was no refusing Tomley. He ruled the Benton Research Center with an iron hand and made no qualms about being blunt and unpleasant when things didn't go his way. Fred tried to think of some diplomatic way for his wife to turn down the offer, but that would only make waves, since he knew that the director genuinely needed an administrative assistant to handle the paperwork. "Nuts," he said to himself. For once he wanted to really be the boss in the family and not have people think his wife was supporting him, but it hadn't worked out, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Nonetheless, he wished Dinah would be content with staying home and playing the role of a wife, which is what he would demand of her once he got his PhD and moved into the realms of scientific research with official credentials. If she kept on trying to assert herself the way she was now, there was eventually going to be trouble in their marriage.

In a moment though, she was back in the living room, approaching him with a meek look on her face.

"Fred, are you angry?" she asked, sitting on the arm of his chair. "I meant what I said about taking the job, but I didn't want to hurt you."

"Oh really? Well, actually, I wish you hadn't come on so strong. I don't particularly like Tomley, and I don't like the way he cornered you at that cocktail party. He's an old lecher, if you ask me."

Dinah smiled at his outburst, realizing that he was just blowing off steam. His male ego was at stake somehow, but he would get over it. After all, what was she supposed to do--stay at home and play house all day while he went to work? She hadn't really meant to cause a rift in their relationship--it was just that she needed fulfillment just as much as he did. And the thought of somehow working into a position at the Center that would give her credits toward her Master's inspired her confidence.

"Come on, Fred," she whispered teasingly in his ear. "I thought we were both going to calm ourselves down." She began nibbling on his earlobe and stroking the back of his neck at the same time. "Let's go into the bedroom. We could both use some recreation."

"Don't try to brown-nose me," he snorted. "You're going to do what you want no matter what I say, aren't you? For God's sake, Dinah, I don't see why you want a job--especially working in Tomley's office. He's liable to chase you around the desk all day."

Even with his anger at a pretty high pitch, Fred felt himself responding automatically as his wife snaked her tongue teasingly in his ear, sending ripples of excitement through his body.

"Knock it off, damn it, you're trying to butter me up."

Fully aware of how he was responding, Dinah dropped her hand to his lap and let it rest on the hard bulge that was already swelling inside his trousers. In truth, she felt a little squeamish about taking the initiative and touching him there, but she felt she ought to do something a little extra to assuage his temper.

Only once before had she gotten him really angry with her, but once was enough. The incident took place about three weeks after they'd been married. All along, she'd been thinking that she had adjusted very well to the idea of sex, despite the fact that she'd been a virgin until their wedding night. During their honeymoon in the Pocono mountains of Pennsylvania he had gently penetrated her hymen and gradually showed her the pleasures of love without frightening her. For the most part she'd been willing to learn, enthusiastic about the new things which she'd only heard before and which now were actually happening to her. Despite her willingness, though, she'd been shocked several times at some of the perverted things he suggested. To his credit, he had never pressed her until that certain night three weeks after they'd been married and had moved into an apartment on the University campus.

That evening he returned late carrying a gift-wrapped package which he presented to her with a smile on his face.

"Fred, what is it?" she asked, completely taken by surprise.

"Go ahead, open it. You'll see."

The minute she opened the box, however, her face fell. It was a lacy black nightgown so sheer it was practically invisible. She laughed at first, thinking it was some sort of joke gift, but when he pressed her to wear it that night, she realized he wasn't kidding at all. She grew angry, then tearful.

"How can you possibly want me to wear something like this? It looks like something a whore would wear."

"Oh for Pete's sake, Dinah, don't be such a puritan. Go ahead, try something different for a change."

"I won't, I refuse!" the outraged red-headed wife protested, hurling the garment back in the box and stomping off to the bedroom. As for Fred, he had simply slammed the door of the apartment and clattered down the stairs, not to return until very early in the morning with liquor on his breath.

All in all, it had been a disheartening experience for her, and she vowed not to anger him like that again. But still, what was she going to do--let him take over her life completely? She had to have some independence of her own. The very thought that he insisted on her wearing that nightgown still rankled her. It would have cheapened her for the rest of her life, she was sure of that.

From that time on, there had been little cause for them to quarrel--except now. Having tasted his anger, though, she was determined to avoid a head-on confrontation and go about things more diplomatically. And so, setting aside her inhibition she continued to fondle his rapidly swelling penis beneath his pants as she perched on the arm of his chair. She could tell how much pleasure he was taking from her unexpected boldness just from the expression on his face. In response to her manipulations his organ was rising to fill her entire palm.

Suddenly, unable to stand her tantalizing caresses any longer, Fred pulled her down on top of him and crushed her body against his. She could see from the gleam in his eyes that he had already forgotten about her rebelliousness, in fact, forgotten about everything except the enticing closeness of her body.

"Come here, baby," he groaned playfully, his free hand reaching around in back of her legs and sliding slowly up the curve of her thigh.

"Ummmmh," Dinah moaned in his ear, jerking slightly from the intimate tickling sensation. She was extremely sensitive along the back of her upper thighs and Fred knew it. He was purposely teasing her, but still she could feel tiny goose bumps welling under his fingers.

Fred, for his part, grinned wickedly from his sitting position and continued to play his fingers over his wife's long naked legs, pushing his hand all the way up under her mini-skirt to brush his fingers over her vaginal mound, so tightly sheathed in her silken panties. Above him, the excited young red-headed wife was squirming with pleasure, and her full, sensuous lips were parted in anticipation. Screw the job, he thought to himself. If she wanted a job so damn badly, she could have it. It was her delectable body that counted now. As his outstretched middle finger nudged under the elastic legband of her panties, she squirmed as if to protest but didn't move away.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna fuck you really nice," he breathed, his finger beginning to rub teasingly around the hairlined lips of her wildly throbbing vagina beneath her panties.

"Yes, yes, Fred," she moaned excitedly. "I want you too." Her eyes were closed tightly shut, her hips grinding down hungrily against his, and even his foul language did not put her off this time, as it often did before. She wondered where he'd learned to use it, and she knew that he must have had sex with other women before they were married. How else would he know all the things he did? She just hoped that none of them were dirty, or diseased, but no... he certainly wouldn't do anything like that.

She was glad in a way that he was responding to her bold overtures, for ever since they'd come to Bay Bridge, he seemed to be devoting all his concentration to his research and very little to her. She was afraid that even having been married a mere six months they were somehow drifting apart from each other in a subtle way, Fred being lured from her by his work toward the all- important PhD. Now in the evenings he was often too tired or busy with paper work to give her the attention she needed, and recently they'd been making love very little. This bothered her, not because she felt an overwhelming need to make love, but because Fred's ardor for her seemed to have diminished. Was familiarity breeding contempt, or at least boredom, she wondered?

To calm the fears that were troubling her, Dinah leaned forward and kissed her husband hard on the mouth. He responded by thrusting his tongue in between her lips and swirling it around the moist cavern of her mouth. Still, a nagging worry gripped her. For some reason his responses seemed almost automatic, as though she had just become a habit and could no longer truly excite him. Perhaps if she could act even bolder, try something new, she would awaken his affection for her. Dinah darted her tongue deep between his lips, flicking the tip over his teeth and the roof of his mouth.

A second later Fred turned his head away and smiled at his wife. "Why don't you take off some of those clothes? It's getting hot in here." She nodded silently, unable to reply as his hands glided around her thighs and cupped her panty-clad ass- cheeks. Slipping his fingers higher, he grasped the frilly elastic waistband and pulled down, gliding his fingers over her bare, smoothly curving belly.

Squirming against him, Dinah nibbled his ear, her hands gripping tightly at his shirt. Then with a teasing smile playing on her lips, she stepped back off the chair, crossed her arms and lifted her sweater off her shoulders, her rose-nippled breasts bursting forth into freedom. Quickly she unzipped her mini-skirt and stepped out of it. The red-haired bride could feel his impatience as she coyly hooked her fingers into the waistband of her half-rolled-down panties and completed the job, peeling them slowly down over her ripely rounded hips and thighs, letting them fall to her ankles and stepping out of them at last. Realizing the power of her nubile young body, she slowly slid her palms down over the curves of her hips, smiling invitingly at her husband. Then, wordlessly, she lay down on the thickly carpeted floor, tacitly inviting him with her devilish eyes to join her.

He wasted no time, hurriedly ripping off his pants and shirt, his zipper whooshing down, the elastic band of his shorts snapping in his eagerness to strip them off.

Dinah could feel her almost uncontrollable excitement growing and wiggled her naked buttocks down against the carpet, reveling in the powerful effect her licentious actions were having on her husband.

Suddenly Fred was on top of her, his weight pushing her buttocks and thighs even deeper into the soft carpet. Dinah felt the tuft of the rug scraping the sensitive undersides of her thighs and bringing ripple after ripple of lewd delight through her loins.

"Ummmh, you certainly work fast, don't you?" she whispered heatedly in his ear.

"Hell, I've been ready for this the last twenty minutes. You sure as hell know how to turn on a guy," he said, grinning down at her, his hands running feverishly over her ripely straining breasts, then down her sides and over her thighs. They moved up again until his fingers were pinching at her already erect nipples, causing them to swell up into hard little darts of sensitivity until she almost wanted to groan from the exquisite pain.

Lifting his head for a moment, Fred ran his eyes over her lushly curvaceous body, feasting on what he saw. She still excited him like no other woman in the world. In truth, at the beginning he had suspected that he might actually be a little bored with the physical aspect of their relationship a few months after they were married, but somehow she'd managed to hold his interest. Everything about her was designed for sex, even that unconsciously sultry face of hers with its full, slightly pouting lips and those wide, deep green eyes. He could still recall their first meeting and the electrical charges running through his body when he laid eyes on her. Like now, the way her mouth was slightly open! God, there was nothing more he would have liked to do than put his rock-hard cock between her wetly parted lips and have her suck him off, but she had been stubborn about some forms of sex from the beginning and was stubborn even now that they were man and wife. He'd gone so far as to suggest oral sex once or twice, but she had simply shuddered with revulsion and loathing. In spite of this disappointment, he had to admit she was coming along, learning more and more about lovemaking each day under his tutelage. His gaze drifted down to her softly curling pussy-hair, all coppery-colored and glinting in the light, that covered the smooth triangle of her loins. He could see the pink succulent flesh of her pussy moistly gleaming from the excited secretions of passion which had already formed on her cunt lips. Maybe there would be a breakthrough today. Maybe he could convince her to try something new and different. After all, she seemed to be bolder than usual only a short time ago when she had grabbed his cock and begun massaging it. Who knows? Maybe he might turn her into a completely uninhibited mistress after all.