Chapter 8

Outside, the wind was blowing as autumn began to sweep over the city, but inside Apartment Number Eleven, it was so warm and pleasant that Ann relaxed on the big circular waterbed in the living room wearing only a pair of skimpy nylon panties and feeling no particular need for any warmer clothing. Sipping a Scotch on the rocks, she gazed dreamily out the window and watched the dry red leaves blow off the trees, remembering how cold and dreary it was in the shabby cheap flat she and her husband rented.

Naturally, she spent very little time there these days. After Jacques LaFarge had signed his million-dollar contract, Wonder-Wear had closed out its summer sales program and started making preparations for the winter season, which meant that Birindelli had the two girls busy day and night. Besides, since that terrible day when Frank had slapped her for trying to suck his cock, there had been a deadly coolness between them and she'd felt uncomfortable and ill at ease in her own home, avoiding it whenever she could. It was so much nicer here, she thought happily, in this marvelous place with expensive furniture, a fireplace and a liquor closet which always seemed to be full.

The pretty brunette model was lazily considering getting up to pour herself another drink when the door opened and Jenifer burst in, as usual all smiles and enthusiasm.

"Hey, aren't you dressed yet?" called the young blonde girl cheerfully. "Or do you plan to receive the president of our glorious corporation wearing last year's panties? The least you could do is put on the bra and panties we're selling this season!"

"Oh, Jenny, is it already time to get dressed?" Ann complained. "I was just enjoying lying here getting as drunk as a pig. And it seems like such a waste of time getting all dressed when the gang'll just find some excuse to make us get undressed all over again."

"I suppose they will," admitted Jenifer. "But that's the fun part of it. Who's coming tonight anyway, the usual bunch?"

"Yeah, just the boss, plus Pauling and the president. No customers as far as I know. Supposed to be a family party."

"Not many families that sell five million dollars worth of panties alone in one year," Jenifer reminded her. "Anyway, the family that lays together, stays together, or something like that. Come on, Miss Big-Tits get your ass up and put some clothing on it. They could be here any minute now."

Ann playfully threw a pillow at her friend, climbed off the water-bed and walked into her bedroom to dress. With her greatly increased salary, the young woman had invested heavily in her wardrobe, buying the latest in women's fashions from Paris and Rome, as well as getting many free samples of everything produced by Wonder-Wear. She was a little surprised to find that she really enjoyed wearing daring sexy dresses which displayed as much of her desirable young body as possible, becoming excited herself whenever she knew that she had succeeded in arousing the animal lust in a man.

"Let me see, what should I wear?" she asked herself, thumbing through her vast collection of outfits. "Shall I put on something really shocking?"

"Go ahead," Jenifer encouraged her, coming up behind her supple brown-haired friend and looking over one smooth shoulder into the closet. "If I had your body, I'd go naked!"

"Suppose I wear this one," suggested Ann, holding up a miniskirt which was almost sheer and tantalizingly short, "with only a pair of red bikini panties underneath?"

"Try it on," advised Jenifer. "It looks like you're going to knock their eyes out and I'll have to find something really scandalous or nobody'll even look at me."

Dr. Frank Larkin slammed his medical book shut and looked angrily at his watch.

Goddamn! he swore silently. She obviously was not coming home again tonight! He had seen his wife exactly three times in the last two weeks and she had completely given up cooking his meals and washing his clothing. Of course, with the extra money they were now making, he could afford to take his meals in a restaurant and send his clothes out to a laundry, but it was not the same as having a wife in the house. All the money she was making was hardly worth the while if she had to dedicate her entire life to Wonder-Wear, Incorporated!

But the worst thing about it was the fact that she seemed to be having a ball! Every time she came home for one of her brief visits, she was wearing some expensive new outfit, extremely sexy in design and not at all suitable for the wife of a dignified young doctor. She would chat for a few minutes before announcing that she had a fashion show, or a designer's conference or a promotional meeting to attend and then leave in that fancy Italian car the company was letting her use. Naturally if her appointment lasted until late at night, and they nearly always seemed to, she would spend the evening downtown in Jenifer's apartment, even though she obviously could no longer excuse herself by saying she was afraid of the subway.

Was it possible she was going with another man? Larkin shook his head, trying to drive away the ugly suspicion, but it stuck in his mind and refused to be dislodged. Where had she learned that foul obscene trick she had tried on him that day in the bathroom? One of those vulgar women's magazines possibly but that explanation did not explain a lot of other things which had been going on, suspicious mysterious things which could stand a little looking in to.

Like this strange business of the expensive apartment, for example. A week before, Frank had been driving through the rich man's district on his way to visit a patient and he had spotted Ann and Jenifer entering a luxurious apartment building. When they had disappeared from view, he had parked his car and examined the names on the letter-boxes. Apartment Number Eleven belonged to a Mr. Birindelli, his wife's boss. Could it be that she was spending nights there?

The thought tortured him beyond endurance! He had to know for sure and there was only one way to find out. Larkin pulled on his suitcoat and tucked his medical kit under his arm before heading for his car.

As the two girls had planned it, the party was small and intimate. Birindelli came, of course, bringing the faithful Mr. Pauling from the graphics department, as well as the president and chief executive of Wonder-Wear, Mr. Gino Rossi. Both women were dressed in absolutely stunning fashions for the celebration, but for some reason, the three men seemed more interested in a series of photographs which they were passing back and forth and examining in great detail.

"Look at this one, Gino!" Birindelli shouted enthusiastically, handing his boss an enlarged photo. "But don't look too long or you'll cum in your pants and there are much nicer places to cum."

Rossi accepted the photograph with a lascivious grin and leaned back on the waterbed to study it carefully. Gino Rossi was still in his mid-thirties' having inherited Wonder-Wear from his late father, a well-known underworld figure. In the clothing trade, he was mistakenly regarded as a lazy playboy who wasted his energies on race horses and women while his vice presidents kept the company running smoothly, but all of the people in the room knew him to be a keen, hard-driving businessman who understood exactly what was happening everywhere in the Wonder-Wear empire every minute of the day and night.

But his reputation was not entirely false. When he was not hounding Birindelli for a new creative sales program or threatening to fire one of his factory managers for missing a quota, Rossi relaxed with his purebreds, some with four legs and some with two. He had very little luck with the four-footed kind, losing money almost every time he went to the track. On the other hand, he had absolutely fantastic good fortune with the two-footed variety, being a good-looking bachelor with approximately two million dollars in the bank.

"Oh, you and your dirty pictures," complained Jenifer jokingly as she passed around another tray of drinks. "Ann and I spent the whole afternoon trying to look luscious and desirable and you guys fool around all evening looking at a bunch of photographs." The tall, willowy blonde model was only kidding but she did have a point, since both women were dressed in invitingly tight dresses which ought to have commanded a little more attention.

Rossi lewdly patted Jenifer's full round buttocks as she bent over to hand him a fresh drink, and then turned to Birindelli.

"These are terrific," he said excitedly. "Tell me, what did LaFarge say when you showed him the photographic evidence of his little night of perversions here in the apartment, and threatened to send the whole package to his old lady?"

"He took it very calmly," Birindelli reported with a nostalgic smile. "He said that after the night the two girls had given him, he had been planning to sign with us anyway and the only thing he wanted was copies of these photographs for his private collection."

"Can't say I blame him," chuckled Wonder-Wear's president. "What do you think of these pies, Ann? Think Birindelli could make it as a professional photographer if I fired him?"

Ann sat down on the waterbed next to Rossi and looked over his shoulder at the photograph he was studying with such interest. It had been taken at the precise moment when she and Jenifer had both been kneeling submissively between LaFarge's hairy knees, kissing each other with the Frenchman's massively erected cock lodged obscenely between their lips. Below, the photograph clearly showed their yielding young bodies with their panties pulled down nakedly against one another, the soft swelling mounds of their breasts rubbing warmly together and their hot little pussies so close that their pubic hair intertwined, blonde and brown together. Ann felt a sexual shudder race wildly up and down her backbone as she glanced at the indecent but lust-inciting picture, remembering exactly how she had felt at that precise moment.

"Strange, isn't it," commented Pauling, coming over to peer at the perverted photograph, "how men find lesbianism sexually stimulating and yet male homosexuality turns most of us completely off. If that were a picture of two guys smooching, we'd throw it in the waste-basket."