Chapter 1

"And that's the news for tonight. This is Andy Taberon wishing you a very pleasant evening!

Andy kept the very studied but seemingly relaxed and casual smile until the red light above camera three's lens went off and he was free to turn to the monitor to watch the credits rolling over the screen. The glimpse that he caught of his wife's name made him once again begin wondering why the hell she had been so aloof for the past week or so. The popular upstate newscaster felt a brief flash of familiar anger and his face reddened as he realized that he was just about always wondering why Lola was so cold to him these days. It was getting so that they hardly spoke to one another, and they had only been married one year!

The camera men were busy shutting down the studio, and Andy made a display of straightening the papers on his desk. He was thinking of just what he was going to say to Lola when one of the station technicians came up to him.

"Good show, Andy," he said. "How are you feeling?" It was obvious to everyone that the newscaster hadn't been up to par for the past few nights, and the technician was curious to know if the reasons were personal - that is, he wondered if Andy and Lola were fighting.

Andy merely shrugged, ignoring the question, knowing that his questioner was digging for information. Who couldn't help noticing that he and Lola were scarcely speaking to each other, even though they worked on the same show night after night... and were married!

Lola was the weather girl, full of cleanliness, charm and suppressed sex, and she had as much of her own following as Andy did. The amount of complimentary mail that the two of them received from the viewers was staggering. Together, they were very popular personalities, primarily with the people from the small broadcasting area that they serviced. Andy and Lola had been written up in the Albany papers when they got married, and it was assumed that whenever they wanted to they could go on to bigger things - like a network show. It had happened more than once before.

But Andy wasn't worrying about advancing. He made a good deal of money as it was, and his fan mail and the distinction of his calling made him a happy and peaceful man who approached the age of forty-four with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. That's the way it was... before he fell in love with the pretty blonde weather girl!

Now Andy certainly couldn't consider himself happy, no matter how he looked at it. Miserable was more like it.

Glancing at his watch, the newscaster made his way to a small room which served as an office and a dressing room. With a concerned look on his face, he removed his glasses and began to take off the make-up which he had to use for the cameras.

Where in the hell was Lola anyway? he pondered. He'd passed her dressing room and knocked, but there'd been no answer.

His mind automatically returned to the previous night they had spent together. In the same bed, yes, but that was all.

Andy could feel an ache in his loins as he thought of that lushly ripened body that lay in a creamy warmth next to him every night, but which had been refused to him for almost a week now. The worst of it was that Lola was just impossible to figure out. She wouldn't even clue him in on what he had done wrong, just let him know that he had in some way offended her. He was supposed to figure out what it was himself!

Christ, how did he deal with a woman like that? But deal with her he must. She was his wife, and Andy had to admit to himself that he was crazy about her, no matter how crazy she acted at times!

He sat for a long moment puzzling over what could have caused this most recent of his twenty-five year old wife's prolonged pouts. The last one had been because of her brother, Rudy Dayton, he recalled. Lola felt that Andy should use his influence with old Foster, the head of the station, to get Rudy a job. Well, Andy wasn't about to compromise his own good standing with the company president, just to get a job for that good-for-nothing loafer. That wasn't how he'd put it to Lola, of course, but Lola had caught the undertones and had pouted for two weeks about it. That had been a month ago, and Andy doubted that it could be the same reason this time, although he wouldn't put anything past his beautiful, headstrong wife.

Andy finally removed the makeup, put the horn-rimmed glasses back over his eyes, then rinsed cold water over his hands. Christ, sometimes it seemed like a dream that Lola Dayton had ever really let him make love to her. The forty-four year old newscaster's dormant cock stirred and lurched as the memory of the first time washed over him, and in all its intensity it seemed as if it had been only yesterday... not a year ago.

She was new as the weather girl then, and within that first week she had already been invited out by every male at the station. Andy, too, had had his eye on the curvaceous personality-plus blonde ever since he first saw her, and his instincts told him she'd date him if he asked. At the end of her first week, he invited her to see a new play down in Albany, then took her out to a well-known French restaurant where they'd sat for hours lingering over brandy. Then he'd driven her back to her apartment in suburban Schenectady, his hand on her knee all the way back. The electricity between them had been unmistakable, and Andy could still remember the excitement of driving that night with his cock stiff as a ram-rod, while his fingers made electrical contact with the long sleek smoothness of the young girl's stockinged leg.

Lola had sat low in the bucket seat of his new Mustang, her eyes closed, head back, lips slightly parted as she hummed a little in tune to the music on the tape deck.

Andy was feeling a wild excitation, an impossible elation at the idea, the sure knowledge that his rock-hard penis would soon be nudging inside the soft warm mystery of Lola Dayton's sweet little pussy. Christ, how he had wanted to fuck her!

When they reached her apartment Lola let him kiss her, long and hard, their bodies aching toward each other in the cramped front of the car. And long agonizing moments later, she breathed into his ear. "I want you, Andy. I want you badly. I don't know what's happening to me. Let's get out of this damned car!"

In her bedroom, the voluptuous blonde wasted no time in removing her clothes and slipping into bed with him. She moaned in an undisguised hunger as his hands slowly traced the full sensual curves of her nakedly quivering body. Her breathing grew more rapid as his hot, hungry mouth began kissing the soft resilient mounds of her upturned breasts, before moving down to her sensitive inner thighs and fleshy buttocks. Her hands entangled themselves in his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers, and they kissed - their tongues fighting a duel as her hips undulated in eagerness up off the mattress. Andy wanted her more than any woman he'd ever known in his life, and the feeling was so strong that he had no choice but to let her know it.

As she grew more and more aroused, her mewls of pleasure changed to pleas to be fucked... and the pleas to a shriek of ecstasy as he finally plunged his lustfully throbbing penis deep up inside the tightly clasping walls of her tight little cunt. She had cum almost at once... and had continued to orgasm - each one growing in intensity until she had finally passed out...

"That was quite a night!" Andy said aloud now, as he grabbed his hat and overcoat and opened his door. He went out into the hall and walked back toward Lola's door. Christ, if he didn't screw hell out of her tonight, he'd go crazy!

"Hey, Andy!" one of the technicians called as he stood knocking at his wife's dressing room. "If you're looking for Lola I saw her going out right after her spot. I don't think she's in there!"

Reddening like a beet, Andy thanked the man and followed him toward the elevators. Not ever knowing the whereabouts of his wife was humiliating. Damn Lola!

The night air did little to quell Andy's anger and ill-humor as he headed toward the parking lot. What in hell was the use of having a wife if you never knew where she was or what she was doing? If she hardly ever let you touch her? If she smiled perhaps a little too sweetly at all the guys at the studio? He wondered how many of them she had fucked before he married her? That was a subject he dared not to think about! Before she became a weather girl, he knew that she had worked as a secretary on the second floor of the building.

Could he ever call a woman like Lola his?

Andy fitted the key into the door of the Mustang. Before he could turn the key, however, the door opened ever so slightly.

"You're late getting out," a soft, cat-like voice mewed from the front seat.

Andy gaped in surprise as he stared into the face of his wife.

"What?"

"You were expecting maybe someone else?" Lola said teasingly, using the foreign accent she sometimes used when they played together. So she was speaking to him again, even flirting cutely with him just as if she hadn't been acting like an iceberg for the last few days.

Andy shook his head and grimly got into the car. He was going to have a long serious talk with her, that was for sure!

"I certainly wasn't expecting you!" he said angrily as he started the engine.

"Why not? I am your wife!" She leaned forward and pushed in the cigarette lighter as the car slowly left the parking lot.

"You haven't been acting very much like a wife lately," Andy retorted.

She was silent as the car sped away rapidly, leaving behind the depressing gray of the city as they headed toward home, a big stone and wood house they had bought in the country, surrounded by trees and open space they could call their own. The closer they got to home, the more Lola relaxed. Her tone changed, and she scooted closer to him, her long sleek thighs pressed against his legs as she shook her head and heaved a sigh, "I'm sorry, darling."

Andy could still feel his cock hard and full of longing as it pulsated like an angry heart between his thighs. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her long lithe legs, the skirt hiked up to show the seductive curves of her calves, the firm contours of her thighs. He could smell her perfume; it came from the big blue bottle he had given her for her last birthday. He had seen her putting on a pair of lacey white panties that morning with a matching brassiere. He had wanted her then, and now nothing mattered except taking her straight to bed.

He took hope at the change in her voice and listened attentively, while pretending to be vastly interested in his driving.

"Really, I'm sorry, Andy," she said contritely, patting him on an arm and kissing his cheek. The newscaster felt a tingling thrill run up and down his spine.

"It's just that..." her voice trailed off.

Andy glared at her. "Just what? If you don't tell me what's wrong, how can I ever find out about it?"

"Well, I've been worried."

"What about?" Andy asked, his eyes darting suddenly to her.

"It's Rudy," she replied, her voice barely audible. "I'm very concerned about him."

"About Rudy!" he said. "Your brother again!" he growled, shaking his head with disgust. "What's he done now?"

"Well, he's left his job at the newspaper."

"Fired you mean!" This was all leading up to something. He could feel it in his bones.

"No, he didn't say that!" Lola cried, leaping on the defensive. She shot him an angry glance.

"What did he say then?" asked Andy suddenly tired.

"He said it was just impossible to get along with the managing editor there. You know how independent Rudy is. He's got such wonderful ideas, and imagination, so much get up and go..."

"Ummpth!"

"I know he's got great talent as a journalist, Andy. I just know it."

"And you want me to talk to old Foster about him, in spite of what I told you last time."

"Oh, Andy! I didn't dare bring it up. But I've been thinking a lot about it. Since Rudy's been married, he's much more stable than he used to be. All he really needs is a chance... a real chance. I know my brother!"