Chapter 5

Parking her small, foreign sports car in the parking lot beside the building where her husband maintained the Eko-Klean office, Annabelle Foxx, who had been doing some shopping and decided on the spur of the moment to drop in on Hugo, climbed out and hurried into the coolness of the building.

In the outer office, she greeted Janice Baker, Hugo's receptionist- secretary, breezily and asked her to announce her presence.

Startled and fearful, Janice, loyal secretary that she was told her, "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Foxx, but your husband is in conference. He said not to disturb him!"

Annabelle regarded the secretary with cool blue eyes. "All right, I'll wait."

"It'll be more than a half-hour, yet, and right after that he has another important appointment -"

"I'll wait!" She was adamant now. "Just tell Hugo that I'm here! He'll see me!"

Stricken, Janice said, "No! I can't do that!"

Reading the appointment book upside down, Annabelle saw two names entered for two-thirty: A. Hartman and Virginia Brooks. The remainder of the page was blank. She's lying! Then she noticed Janice's agitation. It must have something to do with that woman who's in there with him! Edging around the receptionist's desk, Hugo's wife strode toward his office door, determined to find out for herself what was going on in there. Several things she had noticed lately had broadened the suspicion in her mind that her husband was having extra-marital sex, and this was a chance to catch him in the act. She had the office door open before Janice, with a little cry, could spring from her chair and follow her. "'Really! Mrs. Foxx!"

The office, of course, was empty.

"Oh, so his conference with Mrs. Brooks - or is it Miss? - is taking place in his private office?" Annabelle's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Janice dropped her eyes and mumbled, "Yes, I suppose so."

"Then I'll just have a little peek... to make sure everything is on the up and up!"

Quickly, she headed for the door to Hugo's little hideaway. Janice was there tugging at her arm and pleading, "Please - Mrs. Foxx! What good would it do for you to do that?"

"Let go of me!" Annabelle shrieked.

"No!" Janice plastered herself against the door, attempting to bar her boss's wife.

"My, my! Such loyalty!" Hugo's wife's lips curled in derision.

"I need my job!"

"And I need to know what my husband's doing in there!"

"You don't have to go in there t-to find out!"

"Then you know?"

"Yes..." Janice admitted.

Annabelle Foxx crossed to her husband's desk and slumped into his big upholstered chair. "I-is she... pretty?"

"Yes."

"And young, I suppose?"

"About twenty, maybe..."

So I was right! Jealousy and a deep hurt mingled and spread through her. Damn him! Tears brimmed her blue eyes, and nervously she brushed back a lock of platinum blonde hair that had straggled across her forehead. She should have known it when she married him. It was a second marriage for Hugo, and it had never been clear to her why his first marriage had ended in divorce. Now she knew! He's not satisfied with one woman at a time! At that point, she was not sure what she would do. I'll have to think about it before I do anything... rash! She spotted the intercom console on Hugo's desk and an idea flashed into her mind.

"Is there an intercom in there?" she asked her husband's secretary, who still stood at the door to his private office.

"Yes, there is!"

Annabelle studied the instrument for a moment, then reached out to press a switch.

"Oh, God, Mrs. Foxx! D-don't!" Janice knew what would happen, as sounds came tinnily over the speaker. Too late! I couldn't stop her!

A woman's voice: "OOOOHH! THAT HURTS!"

Listening, Annabelle Foxx visualized her husband's enormously thick penis slamming deep into that unseen, unknown woman's nakedly exposed vagina, and she knew what the other woman felt. Sometimes he still hurts me, when he shoves his cock into me!

Hugo was speaking, then, "BELIEVE ME, YOU'LL BE GLAD I TOOK TIME FOR THIS! I'VE USED THREE FINGERS ON YOU - AND I THINK YOU'RE READY NOW! GET UP ON YOUR KNEES WITH YOUR ASS UP IN THE AIR! I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU FROM BEHIND, DOG-FASHION!"

Rustling, indistinct sounds came over the speaker, then two or three moments later, the woman cried out moaningly, "NO! YOU'RE TOO BIG!"

Oh, he didn't have it in her yet!

Again Hugo: "LIKE HELL I AM! ANYWAY, IT'S TOO LATE TO START CHANGING YOUR MIND! REACH BACK BETWEEN YOUR LEGS AND PUT IT IN!"

Silence! Annabelle's face flushed. God! He's such a dominating bastard! There was a tiny spark of sympathy for the woman in there in that room... and unbidden, she felt her own loins begin to glow with an unexpected sensual arousal and her inner vaginal lips becoming slippery. She resented it. Damn! I'm getting hot listening to my own husband fuck a strange woman!

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? PUT MY COCK IN THAT TIGHT LITTLE CUNT OF YOURS! NOW!" Hugo commanded.

CRACK! It was the unmistakable sound of a flesh-stinging slap! The son-of-a-bitch! The woman screamed, and Annabelle had no difficulty in imagining how he had thrust his hotly throbbing cock deep into the woman's cringing cunt.

Then Janice was there beside her hissing into her ear "Isn't that enough, Mrs. Foxx? We've got t-to get out of here!"

"RELAX DOLL! RELAX AND ENJOY IT! IT'S NOT AS BAD AS YOU THINK! YOU'LL GET USED TO IT IN A FEW MINUTES!" Her husband's voice was more gentle now. I don't think I've really ever gotten used to it! Annabelle could almost feel it herself.

There was more silence, followed by more indistinct sounds.

Janice rushed across to disconnect the open line to her boss's private office, but Annabelle slapped her hand away. "Stop it!" she whispered hissingly. "What's the woman's name?"

"I don't remember..."

"Brooks! That's it! I remember now! Virginia Brooks! Her husband's got a service station business!" Annabelle Foxx mused.

From the speaker, now, Virginia's passionate moan, "OH, GOD! YOU'RE RIGHT! IT DOESN'T HURT ANYMORE, HUGO! SO F-FUCK ME... NOW! OH, GOD, HUGO, FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" God! Annabelle thought about how often she had begged her husband just as abjectly.

"Who's in there with them?" she snapped at her husband's secretary.

"Mr. Hartman, Arthur Hartman..."

"His wife's name is Phyllis?"

"Yes, I think so..."

Virginia Brooks, again: "WH-WHAT... ?"

"IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO START SUCKING MY COCK!" It was the other man, Hartman, speaking.

"Damn! I wish I had a tape of this!" Annabelle thought aloud.

Janice gasped, "N-no!"

"S-SUCK IT?" Virginia was questioning.

"YEAH, BABY... JUST LIKE A LOLLIPOP!"

"B-BUT..."

"NO BUTS ABOUT IT! THIS IS THE WAY BOTH OF US FUCK YOU AT THE SAME TIME! YOU KNEW THAT!"

"NO! GOD... I-I DIDN'T DREAM... !"

"She is young... and inexperienced!" Annabelle observed.

Hartman now: "OPEN YOUR MOUTH, VIRGINIA BABY!" Then, after a short silence, "JUST TAKE IT EASY! RELAX AND USE YOUR TONGUE!"

She's got it in her mouth now! Mrs. Foxx had heard enough. She punched the button to the off position. Silence pervaded Hugo's office.

"I want some addresses, Janice!" Annabelle's voice was coldly businesslike.

"I'll give them to you, if you'll make a promise to me," the secretary bargained.

"What's that?"

"I need this job! I-I've got a young daughter to support and..."

"No husband?"

"N-no!" Janice admitted. "Please promise me that you'll never tell your husband that you got in here and listened to this! He'd fire me on the spot!"

"Okay, that's fair enough. I won't tell him!" Annabelle promised. "Now, I want those addresses and telephone numbers!" There was an indistinct plan forming in her mind. "I'm going to put a rack of horns on his head!" she vowed. "One way or another!"

Returning to the outer office, Janice Baker found the information Mrs. Foxx wanted and wrote it out for her. Annabelle took the slip of paper and asked, "Will you tell me how many other women he's got coming in here?"

"No, Mrs. Foxx... I-I can't tell you that!"

Fixing her with a cold stare, she asked one more stabbing question. "Are you one of his... women?"

Janice was too startled to think of lying. "Y-yes," she confessed. "Yes, I-I am..." She flushed pinkly to the roots of her auburn hair and looked away in embarrassment. She, too, had been aroused by what she had heard and had been wondering whether her satyr boss would have enough energy left over for a sexual romp with her. "But, I-I didn't want it to be that way!"

"No, I suppose not!" Annabelle said. "I don't suppose any of us could resist him, once he gets you alone with him!"

The meeting on the following day, which Annabelle had arranged between her and Phyllis Hartman, was very rewarding in many ways.

It started off with some tentative sparring. Probing for attitudes in Phyllis Hartman, Annabelle soon uncovered the fact that Phyllis was aware of her husband's philandering, but it came as yet another shock when Phyllis admitted that she, too, occupied Hugo Foxx's bed in his private office two or three times a week.

Having lived with the poisoning suspicion that her husband was playing around with other women, and once having found out for sure that he was, Annabelle was determined that two could play at that game, the same as Phyllis Hartman had done.

For a while there was an uneasy relationship between them, of wronged wife and other woman, but as they talked further, consuming a pair of martinis apiece, they moved into a friendly camaraderie in which they began to share intimate bits of information about themselves with each other, about their relationship with Hugo, about what they could do together to both Hugo and Arthur Hartman to put them in their places.

Finally, the two women, drawn together in their mutual misery, their bellies warmed by a third martini and their talk of sex leading them on to it, found themselves talking ever more intimately, as they planned what they would do on the following day... if possible.

"We'd have to put on a good lesbian act," Phyllis said, finding it difficult to control her breathing. "You know what we'd have to do!"

Annabelle was remembering how it had been when she was attending a private finishing school for girls. "Yes, I know... I know all about it!" One of her hands stole out to Phyllis' rapidly heaving breast to knead and caress, discovering that the other woman wasn't wearing a brassiere.

Cringing away, Phyllis gasped, "Oh God! Not now, Annabelle! Not right now!" Then she moaned as the gently caressing hand moved to the other breast.

In the next instant, the two moaning women were clinging to each other, their wetly open mouths seeking and finding lips; to kiss, their tongues entwining probingly and their hands searching feverishly the lushly ripened mounds and curves of each other to caress and fondle. And then they were on the bed in Phyllis and Arthur's bedroom, Phyllis a little apprehensive, yet, but willing to learn, as the flames of her forbidden passion were blown by a giant bellows into white-hot heat. Then, naked on the bed, their hotly hungering tongues, mouths and faces buried in the warmly perfumed flesh up between each other's outspread legs, they tasted the joys of woman-love, tender and sweet...

"I suppose we could call this a rehearsal," Annabelle suggested, lighting a cigarette afterward and lounging back, slim and willowy in her platinum blonde loveliness.

"Yes, I guess we could," Phyllis agreed, "but I don't know how I missed out on this, all of these years!" Her sigh was languid, satisfied, and she gazed lovingly at the other naked woman with smoky, full-lidded eyes.

Leon Brooks had been busy all morning long. Noontime had been hectic, and now, as it neared two o'clock, most of the work was cleared up. He was glad for the time to eat his lunch finally, drink some hot coffee and enjoy a cigarette.

He was sitting in his office, from which he could see all of the service station area. The telephone rang.

"I'm having a terrible time trying to get my car started," an agitated woman's voice told him.

"What's happening?"

"It just grinds."

"Well, it's not your battery. Where are you?"

She gave him the address.

"That's a motel."

"That's right. We're in room sixteen, on the left as you drive in!"

"And what kind of car is it?"

"It's a blue Triumph."

"Okay, I'll be there in about ten or fifteen minutes!" Leon told her, then asked. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm Annabelle - Annabelle Foxx!"

Leon found the car parked in front of room sixteen just as Mrs. Foxx had told him it would be. He lifted the lid of the engine compartment and found the trouble almost immediately: the wires leading from the distributor to the spark plugs had been disconnected. "Damn!" he growled to himself. "Somebody's playing jokes or something!" He replaced the wires on their proper connectors in something like thirty seconds, then looking in at the dash panel, he discovered that the ignition keys were not there. Well, I'll get the keys and try it - collect my money and get the hell back to the station!

"Mrs. Foxx?". Leon asked. "Your car is fixed, I think... and if I can have the keys, I'll see whether it starts now."

"Oh, that's fine!" Annabelle gushed. "Just step in, and I'll see if I can find them!" She threw open the door.

Leon gasped and hesitated a moment, but he wasn't able to resist staring at her as she stepped back to let him enter. She was wearing a frilly dressing robe that he could almost look right through, and the way it gapped open at the top, he got a good look at her full white breasts swelling out so delightfully under the thin material. He was sure that she wasn't wearing anything else. Level blue eyes looked out at him over a little snub nose, and her sensuous wet lips smiled at him invitingly. Her silvery blonde hair was combed down straight to her shoulders. She saw his hesitation and added, "I'll have to find my checkbook, too, so I can pay you for your trouble."

Momentarily, Leon wondered whether her friendly invitation, her somewhat careless display of her charms, and the disconnected spark plug wires on her car, was a trap, a trap set for him by this designing woman to get him alone with her. Hell! Maybe she's one of those women who prowl around picking up guys because they're not being taken care of at home! His interest was piqued almost instantly. Well, I've got nothing to lose! He stepped through the door.

Then he saw her! A second woman with jet-black hair smiled up at him from the bed. She was completely naked, her voluptuously ripened body arranged provocatively, and he couldn't miss the vision of full-mounded breasts, the pink nipples standing erect already, the nipped-in waist, curving hips and softly tapered thighs of a thoroughly desirable woman. Leon stopped short, staring with unabashed manly interest. The door swung shut behind him, and he heard the dead bolt click home. What the hell? Two of them! Probably a couple of lesbians - but what kind of games are they playing?

"Excuse me, ladies, but I don't want to break up your fun and games!" He turned back toward the door, something telling him he'd better leave, now!

Annabelle was loosening her robe. The front of it was open, revealing the supple willowiness of her lushly mature body, and his eyes swiveled to take in the beauty of it, aware at the same time of his rapidly rising penis down below as his hotly pounding blood charged into it.

"We were hoping that you'd want to stick around and watch," Annabelle told him with a lewd little smile curling her lips.

Christ! They're a couple of kooks! "What makes you think that?" he asked, knowing already that he would stay, that dynamite couldn't get him out of here now.

The woman on the bed spoke for the first time. "Because, we think most men do like to watch!"

"My friend's name is Phyllis," Annabelle told him. "Phyllis Hartman!"

Leon nodded mutely toward Phyllis, on the bed, as the introduction was made.

"But, I don't get it! Why... ? Why me?"

Her robe off, now, Annabelle walked nakedly toward the bed, and Leon couldn't keep his eyes off of her sensually rippling buttocks and long, smooth, tapering legs. "There's only one thing we have to know for sure!" she told him.

"What's that?"

"Are you Leon Brooks... and is your wife's name Virginia?"

"Yes, on both counts!" he answered, then asked, "What's that got to do with it?"

"We just wanted to make sure!" Phyllis told him, asking a final question: "And your wife, Virginia - does she sell Eko-Klean?"

"Yes, she does." Leon was completely mystified. Jesus Christ! Just what in hell is going on here?

The two women exchanged glances knowingly, and Annabelle said brightly, "Okay! That's good enough for us!"

The service station owner watched as she lay down on the bed beside Phyllis Hartman, one of her tiny white hands reaching out to caress the black-haired beauty's ripe, firm breasts. He came to the foot of the bed; looking down at them, he asked, "Aren't you going to tell me what this is all about? What does my wife have to do with it? Or what does Eko-Klean have to do with you two... and her?"

"We'll explain it all later!" Mrs. Foxx said. "Meanwhile, maybe all of us can have some fun... if you're interested..."

"I thought you wanted me to watch?"

"Oh, we do, but if you get any ideas... well... feel free... you know?"

He was getting ideas all right! Below, his rapidly thickening cock was throbbing to full erection. The two voluptuous, naked women were facing each other now, lying on their sides, their full firm breasts pressed close together, and below, he saw their smoothly rounded loins straining against each other, Annabelle's golden-haired triangle rubbing in eager little circles against the darker, curling hair of Mrs. Hartman's loins, whose sleekly curving thighs were slightly spread, allowing the blonde's softly tapered thigh to slide up between them. Damn! It was really giving him ideas! Maybe they're both horny... both of them working together... getting their excitement that way - or maybe the lesbian act is just a way of making sure I'm interested! But Jesus! two at a time? He was a little dubious. Of course, I could be wrong! Maybe they just get their kicks having somebody watching them...