Chapter 5

Perhaps a quarter-hour earlier, after a short couple of drinks in the oak-paneled bar section of the Barrett living room, Kate and Jerry Marlowe had moved unhesitatingly toward Kate's bedroom and the assured privacy of her mammoth queen-sized bed. There was no need to speak in whispers, for the older Barrett woman had assured her middle-aged male friend that her daughter was safely out of the way for hours yet.

"When she's out with that hippie of hers, she's never back home before two or three in the morning," Kate had said with the censuring tone of a mother.

"What on earth do those kids find to do for all that time?" asked the nearly-bald man through an absent haze that the half- bottle of Scotch he had consumed had done nothing to diminish.

"You can't guess? Honestly, Jerry, Lucy's hardly a child any longer. I would imagine she's doing what most young men and women do when they're together a lot."

Jerry turned away, a swath of reddish color on his cheeks. "Yeah, young people... not the old timers like me," he said in self-deprecation.

"Oh, there you go again, honey, with all that self-pity routine of yours. How many times do I have to tell you: It doesn't make any difference to me. And besides, I think you're getting better. Probably any day now you'll be as good as new. It's just nerves, baby, just nerves."

Jerry Marlowe seemed to be gaping down over the paunch of his round belly in utter contempt, glaring at the treasured constituent of his anatomy that had betrayed him. "I hope you're right, Kate; boy, do I hope so... it's pretty awful sometimes, let me tell you."

"Undress me, lover, and don't talk about it," the tall statuesque redhead said huskily.

Marlowe's thick fingers fumbled nervously at the buttons down the well-stacked woman's breasts; he could feel her large soft mounds tauten under his touch and it stirred his own anxious passion to a heightened tempo. As he reached the last button, Kate bent over and grabbed the hem of her expensive designer- original dress and pulled it up and off her shoulders; she threw it onto a padded dressing stool at the foot of her bed and reached in back to unfasten the tautly-held hooks of her brassiere.

"Oh, Kate... man, what a pair of tits you've got! I must be the luckiest stiff alive!" She only murmured in reply and loosened the straps of her brassiere so that it fell down her bare arms to the floor at their feet; her womanly breasts spilled from their cups and surged into an enticing exhibition of sensual femininity and proud nakedness.

She hurriedly removed her sheer lacy panties and lay back onto her wide luxurious bed, leaving the silk coverlet in place. Jerry looked down at her in undisguised lust--God, she didn't look a day over thirty-five! What a body!

Jerry hurriedly stripped off all of his clothes in the near- darkness of her salon-like bedroom, his eyes on Kate's voluptuous body as she awaited him on the bed. He had downed at least a half dozen glasses of Scotch with ice, and his head was reeling with the mind-bending blending of intoxication and eagerly-aroused carnal desire. He crawled onto the bed haltingly, uncertain just what the sensually-exciting woman expected of him. Jerry always was obedient to Kate's sexual avidities, eager to please her, for in that attainment was his fullest gratification. She spread her milky-white smooth thighs as he joined her and gave him the gentlest of prodding, sufficient to make her ravenous special hunger know. "Kiss me down there, Jerry," she whispered, as if afraid to give voice to her forbidden passions. -He lowered his head to the fragrantly-perfumed cleft between her nakedly-splayed thighs and parted with his fingertips the light fleece-like pubic hair; he was close enough to feel the steaming heat of her aroused womanhood. "Hurry, Jerry... kiss me there! Touch me there!"

Her fingers curled in his hair and he felt her whole body tense in a salacious shiver of desire that fanned out from her loins at the first tentative touch of his tongue against the pink moistness of her vaginal slit. He licked teasingly along the narrow fleshy furrow and his tongue-tip prodded at the pearly bud of her clitoris; he savored the surge of power he felt in his own loins at the knowledge that just this simple tonguing could bring shiver after shiver of shuddering lustful desire to this beautiful woman's naked body. He felt his heart quicken, his breath become forced and rapid, as Kate's lips parted and a gasping moan of total surrender escaped from deep within her throat.

Kate gasped again as she felt his thumbs spread farther apart the soft damp lips of her vagina: she moaned as his tongue traced up and down the full length of the piquant crevice between her thighs, hungrily in search of her most secret sexual flesh. He took to his task unhesitatingly, eagerly, and his searing liquid tonguings became even more frantic as he sensed the ever-growing arousal he was bringing to this gorgeous woman. Her gasping moans and constant mewling grew louder and more intense as he pressed his head deeply between her widely-splayed thighs and thrust his probing tongue far up between the fervently quivering lips of her cuntal slit. She cried out in ecstatic delight and her hips began a lewdly inciting rhythm of their own, grinding up to meet his tongue and lips. Her hands tangled in his thinning hair and she literally imprisoned him between her straining supple thighs!

Lucy was dressed now in jeans and a light sweater, sufficient for the drive around suburban Washington she intended to make, she swallowed hard and opened her bedroom door--she knew there would probably be words later between her and Kate. After all, she had no intention whatsoever of being drawn into a conversation with that man; she would simply walk through the living room and go out. If Kate called to her, she would just ignore her; she just could not sit around here in her room while her mother's man friend drank himself into a stupor with the liquor John Barrett worked all his life to earn.