Chapter 6

"Yes, I have to admit I belong to the 'Ban DDT' camp," Jeff McLean drawled as he sipped the Scotch and soda Sandra had fixed for him. He leaned back comfortably in the wing chair, and Sandra found herself thinking how attractive the veterinarian looked, his handsome face boyish under his mop of dark brown hair.

"I admit it has its drawbacks," Sandra replied thoughtfully, "but surely its usefulness outweighs any disadvantages."

She felt curiously elated, a girlish thrill surging through her as she talked with McLean. He had lingered in the kitchen after attending to the cows, giving them their annual Tuberculosis test, and had accepted with alacrity her offer of a drink. She felt like a new woman as she talked with him, his comparative urbanity infusing her with liveliness, and his intelligent conversation starting the wheels of her own brain turning slowly.

"Its usefulness!" McLean laughed sardonically, getting his drink down. "Do you call polluting the land and sea useful? Not only does DDT destroy fish life, it is also beginning to poison the phytoplankton in the ocean. Do you realize what that means?"

"Not exactly," Sandra had to admit, secretly enjoying his indignation.

"It's from phytoplankton that we get almost 50 per cent of oxygen replenishment," he explained. "We are on our way to suffocating ourselves with that damn DDT!"

Sandra took another sip on her drink.

"But what about the wonders DDT has worked with malaria in Ceylon, for example," she suggested, remembering an article she had read recently.

"Modern technology is one of the casual factors of the world's troubles. The universe is a hard task master and only the fittest should survive. Merely keeping millions alive so they can live another day with a pain in their bellies from hunger is doing them no favor!"

"But almost a billion people have been saved from malaria over the last twenty-five years or so," Sandra exclaimed. "Should they have been left to die or waste away, for the sake of a few fish and water plants?"

"Of course not," McLean answered indignantly, "but a little foresight should have been used. Merely spraying the Anopheles mosquito isn't the answer; provision in the way of family planning, agricultural instruction and so on should have been made to take care of the extra millions. Instead we are bent on ruining what we have!" He finished his drink in a long swallow. "You can see that the subject is really one of my beefs!" he laughed.

"People should care!" Sandra said carefully. "Living in the country-side, we tend to forget the problems of the world because we are so insulated and free from them all."

"Besides," McLean interrupted, "a beautiful woman like you shouldn't have to worry about such things!"

Sandra flushed pink with pleasure under his frank compliment. She did look very attractive, she knew, and was pleased that the veterinarian had noticed it. She felt a rush of gratitude to him for being interested in her mind, also, and felt that even her thoughts and opinions were beginning to reflect the freedom and lucidity she was experiencing through her body. Ever since that morning last week, when Sam had taken her so harshly in the stable, her life had undergone a change. The rough workman had unleashed a torrent of sensual desire in her, which could only be dammed by his urgent, passionate lovemaking. She had adapted herself thoroughly to a new regime of wild, unusual sex out in the barn with Sam, tinged always with a sense of urgency and illicitness, and she could hardly remember what it was like before. Her body never seemed to get enough of him, and he always succeeded in arousing her to fever pitch, making her more frenzied, more demanding, more willing each time. Yes, I'm really a new woman now, she mused as she rose to fix new drinks. Her hips had a new provocative swing to them, she knew and she was aware of the vet's eyes on her enticing buttocks. She was revitalized by Sam's attentions, his body, his hands, and she had begun to take a new interest in herself, discarding her country casuals, and wearing new slinky type dresses, low cut blouses, curve clinging pants outfits. She had even begun to pin her hair up occasionally, even though it wasn't really long enough, and letting little tendrils fall down becomingly over her smooth cheeks. She had someone who cared how she looked now, she reasoned, feeling younger, more attractive, more wanted than she had for years. Mike didn't seem to notice the change in her, or if he did, he didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't seem to say much at all lately, and Sandra had felt pronounced relief when he said curtly that he'd be away for a few days, buying new stock for the farm. That was two days ago, and she had enjoyed hours in her husband's bed of unworried abandon in Sam's arms. Already her brow darkened at the thought that her husband would be back the following day.

But her smile brightened again when she brought the drinks in and handed one to McLean.

"You've certainly changed since I saw you last!" Jeff smiled, running his eyes admiringly over her pale pink silk dress, which she had artlessly left unopened to reveal the tops of her translucent ivory breasts. His last visit was three months ago, and Sandra remembered how dowdy and unhappy she'd been.

"For better, or worse?" she quipped brightly.

"Better, of course, much better!" Jeff laughed, "Mike must be really taking care of you!"

Sandra blushed, and to hide her confusion, enjoined, "Country air must be good for me!"

"Yep," McLean agreed, "a spell in the country works wonders for anyone! People change their views on a lot of things after a rural sojourn."

Sandra took a long swallow on her drink, hoping Jeff wouldn't notice her discomfiture. Guilt about her liaison with the farm worker came so suddenly and abruptly to the fore that she was sure he must suspect something.

"But you're still a city girl at heart, aren't you, Sandra?" McLean said, a new note in his voice. Before Sandra realized, he was leaning over her, her forearms grabbed tightly in his hands. His breath was warm on her face and his mouth was looming closer.

"No, stop!" she gasped, struggling to escape his over-powering grip.

"Hey, what's the matter? I thought you might like a little city loving after all that pastoral stuff!"

Sandra's mind was reeling. What had come over him?

"Let me go, Jeff!" she said, her voice quietly authoritative. Anger stirred in McLean's taut body.

"Now wait a minute!" he snapped. "Don't give me any of that innocent crap! I know you're hot for me - why not admit it!"

Sandra's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She had found him attractive, it was true, but that was as far as it went... wasn't it?

"Please Jeff..." she began.

"You're not so standoffish with Maguire, are you?" he demanded, rage boiling hot inside him.

Sandra gasped, her face crimsoning. Did he know? Could he have found out?

"W-what do you... mean?" she whispered, frightened and tremulous.

"You know what I mean, honey," he rasped, squeezing her tighter, "and you can give me a little of that pussy of yours too!"

"H-how dare you?" she stammered, unable to suppress her irritation. He knew, that was obvious!

"Listen, baby," he snapped, "I get a taste of that hot little cunt of yours, or Mike will suddenly find out all about your little game with Maguire. What would he say to that?"

Sandra shivered at the change in the man's voice. It seemed cruder, more ominous. All the polished suavity was gone from it, and now it was edged with lust. Mike would kill her if he found out! The thought stood stolidly in her mind. What can I do?

Suddenly, his mouth bore down on hers, he was pushing her down on the couch and kissing her in a hard, bruising oral embrace which reddened her lips and trapped her breath. Everything vanished from her mind, fled from the overwhelming power of his kiss, and her arms reached up and encircled his neck while her lips strained against his, clinging desperately to them. Her nipples stiffened under the thin dress, jutting against his chest, and his hands slipped down and ran expertly over her back, her hips, her thighs. Her lips parted to admit his swirling tongue into her hot orifice, and she quivered under the force of the passion he was beginning to arouse in her. She felt resistance fall away from her body, and she felt a mild protest forming in her brain.

"No, this is wrong," she murmured, feebly trying to free herself from McLean's unrelenting embrace. "I can't let another man do it to me!"

"Come on now, honey," he whispered in her ear, "you're a little more generous with Sam... Mike wouldn't like you to be stingy with me..."

Mike! He'd tell Mike if she didn't comply... As she hesitated, she was aware of his hands fumbling at the buttons of her dress, opening them all the way down... his hands suddenly on the eager orbs of her throbbing breasts... her nipples burgeoning hungrily into his palms... Her eyes dropped involuntarily to the growing bulge between his legs. She could almost see the protuberance of his pulsating organ growing before her eyes, and a stab of longing coursed through her. Her eyes drank in the sight of his broad, strong shoulders, his firm sensual torso, his cruel exciting lips... and then dropped again to the fleshy promontory between his thighs. Her body began to ache with sudden intensity - every nerve ending seemed to tremble with suppressed desire. Oh God, it was no use... her body was too strong for her... she wanted this man... she wanted this strong, virile male, just like he wanted her!

Jeff sensed her acquiescence, his half-closed eyes mesmerized by the enticing sight of her half naked body, its shimmering whiteness like fine marble against the Giorgone-like sheen of her silk dress. His prick was pulsating fervently against his leg, branding his flesh with its hot passion. He exulted in his victory over her, her obvious desire for him. Sam's right, he mused, she's a hot little bitch! He had been skeptical when Sam, barely suppressing his excitement, had blurted out to him the details of his incredible affair with the young farm wife. He had imagined that it might be wishful thinking on his part, but Sandra had seemed to be upset by his references to the farm worker, and now, she was mewling with excited desire! A change certainly had come over her, he thought, remembering the uncooperative disinterested wife he'd first met six months ago, and on his subsequent visit three months later, her shabby, gone-to-seed appearance. Nevertheless, he'd been interested in what lay beneath that dowdy exterior, but of course, had never dreamed of finding out, not until today, of course! And now, he certainly was going to find out...

Sandra sighed as she felt his mouth close over the crest of one trembling upright breast, his soft firm lips enveloping the tender throbbing flesh of her turgid nipple. She became vibrantly alive under his touch, excited and aroused as she felt the nearness of his heated masculine body. She could feel the bloated strength of his still-encased penis as it pulsed against her thigh and her loins began a tentative churning in time to the internal palpitations that were caressing her desire-ridden flesh. His mouth was trailing down her body, licking and kissing her warm, pliant flesh, glorying in her naked offering to him. His eyes fell lustily over the dark ebony fleece of her slightly raised pubic mound, and he felt an impatient tremor spasm through him. Christ, this is going to be good... he murmured passionately, his hand fiddling with the fly of his pants.

Sam gripped the edge of the window sill, his eyes bulging, his nostrils dilated with anger. He had to stifle a bellow of rage as he stared in disbelief at what was transpiring in the Peters' living room.

Sandra's eyes jumped to the huge, fleshy rod of the veterinarian's cock as he eased it out of the confines of his pants. The excitedly hardened head gleamed a bluish-purple and the lengthy red base seemed to pulse with hot, angry blood. She felt a quiver of anticipatory fear mingled with masochistic pleasure as she continued to stare mesmerized at the lewd instrument, which McLean was obscenely encouraging to even greater proportions with crude caresses of his powerful hands. Unconsciously, she spread her legs a little wider, arching her pussy up in a primitive invitation to his waiting cock.

Christ, the fucking little bitch really wants it, Sam thought viciously, his own prick throbbing inside his work pants as he pressed against the outside wall, his face riveted to the glass of the sitting room window.