Chapter 4

It rarely happened, but on occasion Jay Robert Durke, novelist, hit a stumbling block in his work. These snags were not necessarily the same as might befall a writer in some other field, the big, bearded man realized, but they were his particular plaque. After all, just how many sensual scenes could one describe without being repetitious? Not that his lust imagination fell short in the erotic department, but there were times when even he couldn't catch the feel of a needed, sexy sequence, especially if Sara Wilson wasn't out in her yard pruning or weeding in her next-to-nothing bikini to inspire him.

In the absence of their vivacious, raven-haired young neighbor's stimulating curves to fire him, the prolific author usually resorted to his 'research' file, a locked metal drawer filled with obscene photos and literature of the rankest intensity. There was a certain drawback to this method, however, for once involved in his research department, he invariably found himself lusting like a goat, with mental visions of Sara Wilson passionately begging him to act out the particular picture with her. He had never stopped to estimate the time lost to these lecherous musings, convinced that though non-profitable, it was time well spent. They not only worked him into the proper frame of mind for creating, but they did hellish fine things for his restless ego.

To Jay Durke, Sara was the epitome of a profoundly sensual woman. Not that his own Beth didn't have all the physical qualifications, even more so than Sara... Christ, there was a girl with a body that wouldn't quit... but what good was that if you didn't know how to use it?... and there was no doubt in his mind but what Stan Wilson's luscious little honeypot would be a wildcat in bed! Of course, there was always the chance that the old shoe salesman didn't know the first thing about getting the most out of her, which was usually the trouble with those Greek- god types, and maybe that was why she liked to get out in the yard and do her thing for him in that goddamned tantalizing bikini of hers.

In his lifetime, he'd never seen a doll squirm and squat into such hot-nuts positions as she could manage right there in her front yard. Maybe she didn't have the quantity of voluptuous curves which Beth owned, but they were damned sure of the same quality. Shit, he could almost feel the firm smoothness of her softly rounded tit right in his hot hand, and she had one of the most inviting, tightest-looking little asses swelling out that yellow bikini bottom he'd ever laid eyes on. But getting at it... her... was a horse of another color.

Sure as hell, the big, bearded writer was convinced, she wasn't out there every day displaying her wares without something in mind. She damned sure wasn't doing it for Beth's or Vickie Davis' sake, and there was no one else around to see her but him! And those ball-tingling, lewd stances she strained to get into, bending over straight-legged with her tautly ovalled ass cheeks smack dab facing his study window, the shadow of their separating crevice faintly visible to him through the tight, thin material! Or stooped and faced him until her white young tits nearly popped out of their wispy halter! But best of all was the squat, with knees widespread so that he could actually see the outline of her puffy little cunt all snug and mouth watering up there between her shapely legs, even without his field glasses! What the hell, there was no doubt about it, the impish little bitch was actually giving him the old come on!

It figured in Jay's thinking, as he sat behind his desk watching through the window into her front yard, that old Stan didn't have the wherewithal to take care of his little hot-assed petunia, but there just happened to be a stud in the neighborhood who could... namely Jay Durke! He grinned in lustful confidence to himself! About three-fourths of his long, thick cock buried between those soft thighs ought to do the job right to perfection for her, as Beth could well tell her, except those things just weren't done outside the realm of his novels. Now, he sniggered under his breath. There'd been a reason for his escorting of Beth on her shoe shopping tour yesterday. Once he'd learned she was going to Wilson's, the possibility that he might break the ice between them and get things on a little more neighborly basis, had occurred to him, and he felt certain it'd worked.

Hell, and why wouldn't it? Everybody liked to brag about knowing a selling author by first name. Jay supposed it gave the poor slobs an elated feeling of contact with the creative and celebrity world, which was okay with him. He was no puffed up swell head just because he'd tasted success! He knew what it was to be just an ordinary, everyday grinder like Wilson, and unless he missed his guess, his neighbor would be knocking himself out shortly to invite Beth and him to dinner or something. That, of course, had been, and was, exactly what he was counting on to get next to sweet-assed little Sara. He just hoped she'd use her head and play it cool in front of Beth. His possessive blonde wife might not take kindly to the raven-haired minx making a play for her lover-man. Nothing was worth lousing it up between Beth and him; she was a real baby-doll, and he knew she was nuts over him, just as he was all gone on her.

If only she could get a little more with it in the old sack? Oh, she always got hot enough at the kickoff, but he knew without asking her that she couldn't cum, which was nothing but failing to throw her beautiful ass into it full-fledged. But if that's the way she wanted it, he wasn't going to complain. The luscious creature had everything else in the world going for her, and he knew what his offered security meant to her. Hell, she'd latched onto him in Chicago like a preying tigress, letting him know how it was with her by spreading those pretty legs the very first night. Christ, how she'd whimpered and squirmed, and how he'd socked the old cock to her... until she'd just lain there half crying and laughing when it was over, she was so happy. Well, that's the way it should be right from the beginning, the way he always told it in his stories, and he could damned well remember how jubilant he'd been just to see her sincere happiness, after twenty five years of paying to bed apple eating whores.

It occurred to the big man, then, how she'd come on the other night! Christ, he'd almost forgotten about that! She'd said something about wanting to suck it, hadn't she? Sure as hell had! He'd poured away plenty of booze, he recalled, but hell, he knew he hadn't been drunk! Goddamn, she'd said it all right... wanted to suck him off! Well now, he was just going to cultivate that program right soon, he lustfully decided, feeling the immediate responsive swelling of his long heavy penis. Maybe that's what she needed to really turn her on, and goddamn, he was all for it... !

Sara Wilson's sudden appearance in her wispy, yellow bikini and pony tailed black hair shattered his thoughts like the on- stage entrance of a bottomless go-go girl! Well, she was right on time, he rousingly thought, checking his watch. Ten-thirty. "Okay, Sara baby, go into your act," he whispered to himself under his breath. "And don't get impatient, 'cause old Jay's going to fill your needs real soon, Honey... like you never even dreamed of..."

In the kitchen of their under-built, rented home in what might be termed as a semi-exclusive neighborhood, Beth Durke moved about performing her housekeeping duties, essential tasks that fell to her before she could position herself in front of the typewriter. She sang the words of a popular release in a clear, throaty voice, sang them softly as if to herself, with sultry green eyes aglow and the traces of a secret smile sensually playing over her stunningly beautiful face. She wore a tiny apron over a shortie, lime-green shift she'd had for ages, but with brassiere beneath this morning. Her reason for aroused excitement of mood came twofold, perhaps, two and one-half fold. Number one: she'd watched Stan Wilson wheel off to his store a short time before and caught him, once inside the concealing protection of his garage, straining his eyes toward her house! Something on his part was bound to happen soon; she felt certain of it! And she'd made up her mind that she could wait! It was going to be worth it, she knew, and after all, she'd already waited twenty-six years!

Number two: the waiting period was not going to be one of hunger, anyway! She now had the enchanting young masculine beauty of Jerry Adams at hand, available, she was certain, at the slightest indication on her part, and he was the most lovable lamb in the world! Except, next time, she intended to further his manly education another way! And lastly, the one-half: Jay had been too drunk the night before to pump enough blood into his loins to get his huge penis up and keep it there! She'd been ready for him though, still convinced that if he and 'it' became numb enough, myriad of erotic sensations could happen to her, but the old lover-man had just gradually faded away beneath the veil of his consumed liquor, finally snoring, and she'd covered him, kissed him goodnight, then fallen into her private passionate thoughts.

They had been that, all right, so much so that the tremendous urge to satisfy them had been almost unbearable. Once, she'd nearly awakened Jay to try again, but his snoring advised her that would be useless... and at last, she'd slept. Even so, it'd hardly been much different upon awakening this morning! The tiny imps with their sensuous forks were still alive in her soft belly and hungry young loins. Her handsome Stan Wilson's avid staring at their house had added more coals, while the mere thought of youthful Jerry Adams' naked young body had been the final stimulator.

God, she was all damp as usual between her legs! The narrow, thin strip of nylon snugly caressing her there was saturated with the hot moisture seeping from between her pussy-lips! She'd have to change her panties... !

The scratching against the screen of the back door marred her thoughts. It was Lancer, of course, she knew without looking. Vickie Davis' huge German Shepherd whose habit it was to come begging every morning about this time. Not that the animal didn't get enough to eat at home; Beth was sure he did, the way his beautiful young mistress looked after him, but he was still just a dog and this was his thing.

"Hello, darling," she said with a radiant smile, opening the door for the whimpering beast to enter. "Hungry? Come over to see Beth for something to eat?"

He agilely raised to his hind legs, pressing his soft paws against the full tips of her breasts. She caught at his forepaws, a little shiver passing through her voluptuous young body at the erogenous contact her thought veins had enhanced. The big handsome animal licked out at her face and she reactively drew it back away from him with a smile. He whimpered and Beth said, "I think I have something for you, darling! A nice big bone with the remainder of the ham we left on it last Sunday." Then, more to herself than the animal which waited with wagging tail, she opened the refrigerator and stooped down to bring the platter out: "We'll never eat it... ham shouldn't be kept this long, anyway... !"

What happened next gave her such an unexpected and truly wild start that the astonished young wife couldn't move! She was still bent over fishing inside the refrigerator when she felt the unmistakable cold wetness of Lancer's nose high on the nakedly sensitive flesh of her inner right thigh! Why she didn't bolt upright in shock or fear, she could only lay to the prurient incitement which had been hotly smoldering within her! Instead, she continued to stoop there, knowing the huge dog's powerful head was beneath her skirt from behind, nosily sniffing... and then came the hot, pressured lap of an unmistakable tongue against the moistened nylon strip of her sheer panties hugging her seeping vaginal lips!

God, he'd sensed her heat!

Had to, what else? Again, the beautiful animal did it, drawing its long, hot tongue between her legs against the protected flushed lips of her cuntal crevice! Beth raised up slowly... raised up only because she couldn't stay in that position all day! She held the ham bone in her hand as she turned to look down upon the great dog who was staring up at her with wide brown eyes, erect ears, open mouth and wagging tail.