Chapter 1

A light drizzle and a leaded sky with scudding clouds greeted Lonnie Cannel when she awoke in the half light of the early morning. She had left the bedroom window open slightly, and the cool air which blew through the crack rustled the flowers on the nightstand and rippled across the thin sheet which covered her. She stirred; frowning at first as she unconsciously tried to cover herself with more, then became fully awake and saw that the blanket was knotted at the foot of the bed.

Damnation, she thought, sitting up abruptly to grab the blanket. Another night of tossing and turning. She hated to sleep alone, and that was the problem. Her husband, Roger, was gone on another trip. Business, always business, him and his new job at Skopos, Incorporated. He never had time to be a husband to her any more, and she... well, she was little more than a pretty doll for him to use when he was around. She wasn't a wife, she was just someone -- almost like a whore -- for him to have sex with, always available.

Piqued, she stopped unfolding the blanket. Sleep was gone now, impossible in spite of the early hour of the morning. She stretched languidly on the bed, releasing the last of her stupor.

Lonnie Cannel was a wife any man would be proud to have. Her husband called her a "sex machine that can cook," and said it with a grin. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she stretched, curled around her full breasts and made a contrast to her blush-red nipples and aureole. Her breasts were still firm and taut, even though she was the mother of a fifteen-year-old daughter, and she was increasingly glad that she had followed her doctor's regimen when Jennifer was born. The exercises she'd done faithfully had prevented the slightest trace of stretch marks from the birth, and she could walk around in a bikini and still look like she was Jennifer's older sister and not her mother.

The sheet had slid down to her girlish waist and her round, tapered thighs. She kicked the sheet aside with her long, slim legs and stood up, flouncing her hair and yawning. She was naked, as she always slept; naked and desirable. Her face went well with her body, a sort of pouty, sensual, flirtatious look about it with its small nose and full ripe mouth and large hazel eyes. There was nothing aloof about her; it was pure animal, pure female.

Lonnie giggled to herself as she crossed to the window and shut it. A little shiver of delight passed through her stomach as she recalled the number of men who stared at her, their eyes and the bulge in their loins hard and wanting. And of their propositions even though most of them knew that she was married -- not that she had ever been unfaithful. Of course, a little coy flirting never hurt anybody, and it made her feel so good. She'd never let the game get out of hand, and she didn't intend to, but it was nice to know that a woman of her years could still attract, still arouse men on a basic, primitive level.

Not that her husband seemed to take all that notice. Damn, damn -- how long had it been this time since she'd had Roger inside her? She leaned on the window sill and stated out at the wind-whipped yard and answered herself: too long. If it hadn't been for the bright visits and constant chatter of her best friend, Cylvia Oliss -- who also happened to be the wife of Skopos' vice-president in charge of marketing -- well, if it hadn't been for Cylvia to help take her mind off things, Lonnie didn't know what she would have done, how she could have managed this long...

When Lonnie had called herself a whore, it had been with a slight tingle, a secret thrill the way forbidden thoughts can do. She enjoyed the sex which she gave her husband, wanted and needed it, and was at the moment naked and desirable -- and desiring.

"Hurry up, Roger," she moaned aloud to herself. "Hurry up and get home." Roger was due in sometime today and she ached to see him again. It was always like this, when he was gone. Not so bad at first, but progressively more frustrating until by the day he leas expected back, she was nearly crazy with her anticipations and pent-up needs. I could have him make love to me from now until Christmas without stopping, she groaned inwardly.

She smiled ironically as she turned from the window and lay down on the bed again. Her mother had given her interesting advice when she'd first married, advice which was now a sore point between her and Roger. Her mother'd said: "You keep a man with good looks and a hot body. Anything else he can buy in a store." Sure -- only you needed the opportunity to use that burning little trap between the legs.

The opportunity was going to come in a little while, she hoped. The very thought of Roger taking her, spreading her thighs and hammering his hardened penis long and deep inside her belly was exciting. She cupped her breasts as she sat on the bed, examining the nipples, slightly startled at the way they suddenly began to harden. She moved back so that she could lean against the head rest and look down at them and tweak the nipples between her thumbs and fingers until they were fully enlarged. It was overwhelming her, this manipulation of her sensitive breasts, just as it always had. Some women aren't aroused by their breasts being touched, others are teased only if their nipples are softly stroked. But Lonnie had always had nerve endings more exposed than most; sometimes even wearing a brassiere sent waves of delicious feelings soaring through her.

Now, as she stared down at the white globes jutting from her, she was doubly excited by the realization that soon, very soon, her husband would be placing his hands on them, caressing them, kissing them hotly... With a low mewl of passion, she let one hand slowly move from her breasts and down her smooth, flat plane of a stomach, down to the soft curling fleece of her pubic triangle, then out around her thighs and buttocks, then dipping once more to the lips of her pussy. Closing her eyes against the guilt in her mind she let her fingers open the swollen, moist lips, part the pubic hair, and slide in, finding the clitoris waiting and eager. She circled the quivering bud, spreading the rising juices in a slow caress, groaned softly between clenched teeth as her probing finger felt its way to her open, wet cunt- hole. Her thighs widened to her squirming touch, and she pinched the tender pink skin of her vaginal lips and mouth, luxuriating in the sharp pain as her hips jerked upwards.

Then she jammed her fingers into her hungry pussy, and she pressed herself tightly to the mattress as she masturbated, writhing and twisting, her thighs pumping in time to her plunging fingers. The cords of her neck stood out and the mattress squeaked as she lashed and bucked with the fever of her sexual urgings.

"Oh... God... oh God," she moaned. She felt like a panther, rubbing herself this way, and she knew that if just the thought of Roger returning did this to her, his real arrival would be absolute heaven. "Oh... God... I want... Roger!"

Suddenly she heard a car stop in front of the home, and a door slam. In another moment, the car slipped into gear and sped away. Who could that be? she asked herself, her hand frozen in midstroke, still in her cunt. Is it Roger? He's taken a taxi home?

As if in answer, the front door of the house opened loudly, and she heard the familiar sound of his footsteps. She quickly removed her toying fingers and whipped the sheet over her. A warm flush ripped through her... Roger, Roger, hurry to me, please... I need you so much right now. Then the bedroom door banged, and a muscular, tall man with cropped brown hair and a round, open face entered, his hands gripping the handles of two suitcases. "Hi, honey!" he said breathlessly: "Took the first flight I could." He dropped the bags just inside the door and came toward her. "Boy, it's good to be home again."

"Shh," she said. "You'll wake Jennifer." She laughed delightedly. "Shut the door and come here and give your wifey a big kiss. God! How I've missed you!"

He did as she asked, and then his arms were around her and her lush lips were against his as she clung to him. "Darling... darling," she whispered in his ear. "I love you, my darling."

Roger kissed his wife again, then pulled away from her. "I don't have much time. Have to be at the office, you know." He grinned at her and began to loosen his shirt and tie. "Just enough time for a quick shower and change."

"Business," she pouted. "Why don't you spend sometime with your wife any more? Are you tired of her?"

"Lonnie, you know better to that," Roger said. He stood up, freeing himself from the near- tentacle grasp of his fevered wife. He unbuckled his pants and removed his shirt. "That's why I took the early flight, just so I could see you."

Impulsively, she let the sheet fall away from her nude body and stretched out, letting his eyes feast on the thighs and breasts and legs he loved so well. She raised one leg and let it part so he could see the black pubic hair, slightly damp from her fingerings, and her teasingly puffed vaginal lips. "All of me, Roger?" she asked in a husky voice. Little butterfly sensations flitted in her tummy as she saw the effect her display was having on her husband. She licked her lips. She felt so wicked; but he was her husband after all!

Roger Carmel gaped with utter fascination at the breathtaking sight of his wife stretched out so wantonly on the bed. It was a replica of the vision he had beheld the previous two weeks as he'd lay in his motel bed and stared at the yellowed ceiling and wished his cock was in something warm and moist like her cunt and his arms were tight around her as he spewed his seed into her womb. It was an erotic spectacle and he swallowed tightly.

"... Lonnie..." he whispered hoarsely. He dropped his pants, and stepped out of them, leaving them to puddle with his shirt and shoes on the floor. He was now only in his underpants and socks, and his cock began to thicken with pulsing blood, hardening from the lascivious sight of his wife tantalizingly smiling at him. He glanced at the clock on the dresser. There wasn't time... he had to get to work.

With a frustrated moan, he tore his eyes from her and walked stiff-legged to the bathroom. "Tonight, honey. Tonight we'll make love. I'd, I'd like to now... but there's not enough time."

Lonnie wanted to cry with the overwhelming agony inside her. She'd done everything she could to interest him, and still his business was more important. She fought back tears of frustration as she heard the shower go on and her husband step into the tub and pull the curtain closed. Again she touched her throbbing vagina, gently managing the warm flesh. She rubbed harder and harder as the spray in the bathroom beat a tattoo against the tub, and she felt her cunt palpitate against the palm of her hand with heavy sexual excitement. Then the shower ended, and after a few moments, Roger reappeared, rubbing the drops of water away with a large bathtowel.

"Roger," Lonnie groaned, her voice provocative and husky. "Roger, don't get dressed... please, not yet."

Roger came over to the bed. "Honey, you've got to understand. I've only got an hour."

The sight of his soft cock, nestled against his balls incited still further passion from the starved young woman. She patted the bed beside her. "Sit down, Roger. Just for a minute. That's all. Spend a minute with me."

Her husband sat on the edge of the mattress as if he was giving himself running room to escape. He couldn't keep his eyes off Lonnie, in spite of his vow to be on time at the office. There was so much to do... the meeting scheduled for ten... But right before him was the sensuous, squirming details of her nakedness resplendently clear, from her erotic red nipples downward to the delicate triangle of soft, black pubic hair beneath her still flat, almost virginal white plane of her abdomen.

"Darling, don't I please you any more?" she said plaintively. Her hand was encircling his waist now and slowly slid over his hips and thighs and into his loins. He groaned with the sensations of her feather-light touch. The erection which had half begun when he'd first undressed and she'd displayed her body so salaciously had gone down in the shower. When he'd emerged from the bathroom, toweling himself dry, his cock was thoroughly limp and his thoughts were entirely on what he and his assistant, Martin Oliss, were going to say at the meeting.

But now he found that he couldn't move from the bed. His penis did all the moving -- straight up, leaping into full, raging erection. His wife's hand was around it now, tenderly stroking it up and down as only she could, and then she took his heavy testicles and softly rolled them between her fingers.

She looked up at him, smiling cattishly. "You like what I'm doing, Roger darling?"

Roger didn't answer. He couldn't, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His heart hammered with the beating of his transformation from businessman to lover... there was no way of stopping it, he realized. His cock's large hardness couldn't be denied. Neither could his wife. He glanced at the clock with agonized eyes. He wasn't going to make that meeting at this rate.

Then, suddenly he didn't care. His wife's ministrations and sensuous provocations were too much. Nothing else mattered to him now but plunging his aching cock into her delightful flesh, and Roger reached for Lonnie, his hand slipping gently beneath her dark tresses and drawing her head to him. Their lips met momentarily and then broke apart... reaching out but not quite touching. He drew her closer, grasping her lower lips between his teeth and pulling the moist, soft flesh into his mouth... his teeth slipped off and his lips enfolded her as he sucked her lips into his mouth.

"Darling... darling," she murmured as he sucked.

Lonnie felt a tingling shock run icily into her. Her darting tongue wedged beyond his lips, back inside, over the roof, and across the front of his teeth, caressing... always caressing.

Roger leaned forward, his momentum carrying them both back onto the pillow and he crushed his mouth harder against hers, his arms pressing her to the pillow. He raised himself and rolled, half sitting, so that he was beside her. Lonnie lay back against the sheets obediently, her arms wide and her legs slightly spread...

"Yes, Roger," she whispered softly, her lashes shadowing her cheeks as she closed her eyes. "Please take me... take me..."

"Yes, yes..." he managed to say. He ran his hands over her throbbing breasts and down her belly, into the sob, fleshy folds of her cunt where moments before she had played with herself.

Lonnie moaned, her body alive to his caresses. Her creamy satin skin was a lamina of hot desire. God! she wanted him! Her body cried out to be loved tenderly and totally... as he was doing now. She wanted him to merge with her, crawl up inside her and possess her and quell the raging torrents that were building up in the very depths of her soul from his maddening strokings. Dear Lord, her husband -- the only man she could give herself to without fear of guilt -- was making her deliriously happy.

"Oh yessss," she whimpered. "Oh yes, Roger, touch me there. There... oh yes, therrrrre!" she moaned, helplessly caught up in the tingling pricks of lust that were dancing through her. She sensed the dewdrops of moisture rising between her open thighs as the exposed hair-lined lips of her pussy began to spasmodically contract wetly against one another. Roger ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of her ear and plunged it deep inside. Her whole being seemed aflame with a febrility of surging senses. She couldn't wait much longer or she would go mad!

"Ohhhhh!" she cried. "I want you inside me! Now darling! Now!"

Lonnie twisted her husband's hair, pulling him violently over her. "Please, darling! Please!"

The strange obscenity of her passion-filled pleas excited Roger to a frenzied, blinding furor. He sensed his cock and testicles aching with blood-filled lust, and then suddenly grow flame-hot as one of his wife's hands closed like a steel trap over the thick, glistening penis. It pulsed wickedly against the palm of her hand as she slid up and down the hard flesh, and insane with lust, he didn't need further urging. He grabbed her jutting breasts and rolled on top of her, her legs wide and cradling his hips. The flowering lips of her cunt widened, and she guided his hardened cock to the wetness between her legs, her groans of desperate agony seething in his ear. She rubbed his swollen penis along her open pink slit and parted the soft, resilient pubic hair unto it was nestled teasingly in the entrance to her vagina.

Her husband clamped his fingers into the full cheeks of her buttocks and rammed his body downward. His swelling cock disappeared into her cuntal tunnel with a wet sucking sound.

Lonnie groaned. Her body tightened into an arch of hardened passion as the initial entry split the walls of her vagina. Then she writhed under the rising heat of her delirious sensations, her belly squirming. She raised up under the pressure of his fingers, the glistening prick sliding out until its coronal ridge caught at the straining lips of her cunt, then surged in again. Up and down, faster and faster... and Lonnie's face contorted with passion and her nostrils flared open as her breath burned her lungs.

Roger felt the smooth raw flesh of his passion-aroused wife's pussy clasp him tightly, pulse against his pumping shaft until his balls felt ready to explode, and he lost all track of time as the excruciating pleasure rocked through him. He drove deeper and deeper into her vagina with each thrust of his buttocks. His wife twisted her head from side to side, flaying her hair against the white pillow, and rode his cock like a bitch in heat. She drove her hips up, screwing every inch of his cock and routing the huge head around in her seething belly, causing Roger to gasp and quiver. A fierce storm whirlwinded through him as his penis sucked deep in her pussy and battered her cervix. He felt the eruption of his boiling sperm starting deep in his groin, and knew he was about to come.

Lonnie sensed it, too. She could feel her husband's cock swelling and straining against the moist ribs of her fleshy vaginal walls. She begged: "Please... not yet. Not yet... wait for me, wait... please!" Her legs splayed wider and she bucked and writhed on the wildly squeaking mattress, her loins insatiable. "Now... harder!..."