Chapter 7

Cindy sat dejectedly on the living room couch staring thoughtfully into a martini glass. Her head whirled from the fifth one she had drunk since arriving with her husband and the Taylors. The talk was lively around her; the other three in a similar, lightheaded condition from drinking, though not saddened.

She hadn't wanted to be part of the foursome tonight, feeling worse than she had when Ralph and Norma had taken her and Howard to dinner at The Gandydancer. She had pleaded with Howard when he'd called during the afternoon that she wasn't feeling well, that her head ached from the previous night, that... well, none of her excuses had worked, she thought ruefully. Here she was, once more with her head spinning from too much to drink, surrounded by loud, boisterous, crude talk.

Worse, she wasn't even in her own home, where, if things got out of hand or her own emotional breaking point was reached, she could have fled to the sanctity of her bedroom. Or what was left of that sanctity, she concluded harshly. Howard had changed so drastically, especially since that night when she had allowed those nude Polaroid pictures to be taken... for since then, there had been three successive nights when he had wanted to repeat that horrible performance, to once more set up the tripod and camera and writhe in abandon on the rug, or, as the case last night, on the bed. The very sheets seemed now permeated with debauchery, with the sins of carnality, and the remembrance of how he had tried again to push her head down on his penis and the coldness with which he had treated her afterwards when she had refused to do it brought tears brimming to her eyes. She wiped them carefully and took another heavy gulp of the martini, wincing slightly as it burned its way down her throat.

And tonight, this party was the crowning blow. Howard had actually threatened her on the phone, caustically overriding her objections with brutal words. "You're coming tonight, Cindy," he grated over the phone. "You're coming and you're going to like it. Understand? It's high time you learned which side of the bread the butter's on, and if my boss wants us to go to his cabin tonight, then we're damned well going up there."

"Howie..." she'd wailed, trembling with his angered voice.

"Don't Howie me," he'd snapped back. "Get into a pair of slacks and a nice blouse, comb your hair and be ready to leave as soon as I get home at six. And have a smile on your face, too!" And with that, he'd hung up so harshly that the sound had hurt her ears.

The distraught young wife, completely confused as to what would now bring her previously idyllic marriage back together, overwhelmed by the forceful way Howard's raucous boss had taken a more than guiding influence, terrified at the prospect of a total breakdown of her life, whimpered softly on the couch of the Taylor's mountain cabin. She finished the last drop of the martini and reached forward for the pitcher on the coffee table and poured herself another. The liquor dulled the anguish which pained her, at least, and made this nightmare of an evening a tolerable thing.

The trip to Ralph's cabin retreat had taken several hours, and had been frequently punctuated by stops at taverns and cocktail lounges along the way. Ralph had also brought along a thermos of daiquiris, which he had passed around as he drove, and all the while he and Howard and Norma had discussed everything under the sun in animated, ever louder voices. The sun had already set and the air was a bit nippy when at last they pulled up in front of the stone and redwood cabin, set at the edge of a fine fishing lake in the Sierra foothills.

As befitting Ralph, the interior was masculine and a little on the ostentatious side. The living room was huge with a high oak-beamed ceiling and a large stone fireplace, which Ralph soon had filled with a huge roaring fire. The cabin wasn't so isolated as to not have electricity, but the men had trouble getting the hot water heater going, partly because it was old and cranky and partly because both of them were more than a little drunk by that time.

Cindy hadn't seen the bedrooms yet, but she had the feeling that they would be warm and homey, with great big thick double beds and feather pillows. She'd soon know, she said to herself. She and Howard were going to spend the night here, courtesy of Ralph and Norma. And while her husband hadn't said so, there had been intimations that the weekend might be extended to two nights, the four of them returning late Monday. She hoped not. God, she hoped not, for then Howard would never be away from Ralph's almost evil influence. A small shudder passed through her. What would happen with such concentrated exposure to his manager's suggestions?

Her inner torment stopped abruptly as she was suddenly brought back to the present by Norma's thin, smooth-skinned hand on her shoulder. She looked at the woman, who was smiling in a concerned, worried way, and Cindy smiled back as best she could.

"Something's the matter, isn't it, Cindy?" the other woman said in a condescending way. "You've been sitting here all evening, your face like a mask of tragedy."

"Oh... oh, it's nothing, Norma. Really it isn't."

"Of course it is, Cindy. A woman can tell, just like I could tell the other night when we talked in The Gandydancer. Do you want to confide in me now, Cindy? Before you explode with whatever's bothering you?"

The hapless wife hesitated, opened her mouth to say something, then caught herself and stopped. It was too embarrassing. Just how could she go about confiding to this woman that her husband had influenced Howard to the point where their whole life was nearly crumbling? Norma, the wife that she was, would certainly go to the defense of her husband, and rightly so, for what proof had Cindy? And Ralph, big-hearted and no doubt thinking he was doing the right thing, would be crushed and hurt--perhaps to the point of damaging Howard's career. No, Cindy couldn't tell Norma that.

But still, she was so low and miserable that she had to confide in someone. The martinis had helped in loosening her soul, in making her want to confess her innermost agony, and as she looked at Norma, her eyes once more filled with salty tears and two droplets began to course down her cheeks. Perhaps it would be a mistake, but if she chose her words and skirted the problem with Ralph, she could tell Norma.

She looked around to make sure that she would not be overheard by her husband or Ralph, saw them in a heated discussion on the merits of spoon fishing over live bait, and then turned back to Norma.

"It's... it's Howard," she whispered.

"I thought it might be," Norma said with pursed lips. "He's been acting almost as strangely as you have, Cindy." She stood up, glancing at the men as she did. "Let's step into the kitchen where we can be alone, all right?"

Nodding, Cindy followed Norma into the kitchen. She leaned against the old cast-iron wood cook stove, her hands clasped in front of her, not sure where to begin. Finally she blurted, "I... can't seem to make him happy anymore, Norma."

If Cindy had been a little more sober, a little less upset with her own problems, she might have noticed the sudden gleam in Ralph's wife's eyes. The spark which was almost a gloat, for in Norma's mind an entirely different set of thoughts were going on, thoughts which if Cindy had known would have sent her screaming from the cabin.

You better believe he's not happy with you, Norma thought. And he won't be... ever... until you learn what I had to learn. Your lessons are already started, only you don't know it, my sweet little innocent... and tonight is going to be a real test... when Ralph throws his wonderfully huge and talented cock into your tight, clasping cunt... or even better, between those red lips of yours...

Outwardly, the calculating wife of Howard's boss smiled with assurance and said, "I'm sure that he loves you, though."

"I don't know," moaned Cindy. "Not anymore. He... he's demanding... things of me which I... I just can't do!"

"You mean... sexually?"

Her face a livid color of scarlet, Cindy nodded. "I try to be a good wife for him. I want to please him so very much. I cook him good meals and clean the house every day and try to show him I love him in everything I do, but lately it doesn't seem to be pleasing him like it used to."

Norma took the nearly crying little wife by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye, knowing that this was when she could really set the stage for Ralph... as well as herself and that strong hunk of man, Howard. Her pussy tingled at the thought of getting fucked by that handsome, young salesman. She said, "Now I'm going to give you some advice, Cindy. I'll be blunt and truthful, and I hope you'll understand. If you do, then I'm sure that your marriage will be saved."

"Yes?" There was a ray of hope in Cindy's voice. "You really think so, Norma?"

"I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't. I had to go through the same thing with Ralph, and you can see that after ten years we are still very happily together. The same can be true of you and Howard. Now first of all, a man loves a woman sexually, not by the food she cooks. He can go to a restaurant for that, and a maid can be brought in to clean the house, and a laundry can do his clothes just fine. But his wife can do something which no other woman can do--satisfy him sexually. After all, he married her because he loved her, which makes their relations much closer than he could get with say, some girl he could meet in a bar. Right?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And let me tell you this: no man is going to leave his wife if he knows he's got the best bed-partner right there at home. That's not to say that sex for its own sake is wrong, mind you; it's just not as good as with the one you love." Damned right, Norma thought, feeling another man's cock deep in my warm pussy is a thrill, and l love it, but it only makes me appreciate the heart and love I have for Ralph later, when we're making love... and the same goes for him!

Norma continued in earnest appeal. "So it's up to you to do everything and I mean everything--that you can to make your husband happy in bed. When I married Ralph, I was so inexperienced that I thought the only way to make love was flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. No wonder I never really enjoyed it! I was too uptight, too worried that I would do something wrong, but Ralph was insistent and forced me to follow his lead, to join in En all sorts of wild and wonderful games. At first I hated it, but after I learned to let myself go, once I saw that what people do in the privacy of their lives can't be wrong as long as it gives pleasure to them both, I really started enjoying sex. Now," and here Norma chuckled, "now I'm as insatiable as my husband!"

"You... think that's what's the matter with Howie and me?"

"I know it, Cindy. A man likes variety and not the same old thing. It's the spice of life after all, and keeps him interested in you..."

Norma talked on, lecturing Cindy, and as she did so the sweet, innocent housewife avidly drank in her words. It was true what she said. Norma and Ralph were happy after all these years. Howard had been bitter when she refused to do things to him--with him--of a sexual nature; things like posing with him in the picture taking, things like kissing his penis and letting him kiss her between the legs.

As the other woman talked, Cindy saw that it wasn't Howard or Ralph who was at fault for her misery, but herself. Her selfish attitude, one born of ignorance and timidity, and yes, even of prudery. She was a prude, just as Howard had accused!

Well, things were going to change, and change fast. She made up her mind to that. Tonight they were going to change, she vowed. Tonight she would try to kiss Howard's penis, even if it killed her. When fifteen minutes later she walked back out to the living room, she was firmly convinced this was the way to Howard's heart, and she sat back down and poured herself another martini.

I've got to have strength to go through with tats, she said to herself, gritting her teeth. Some more liquor will help... She downed the strong drink and poured another. Just then there was the large shadow of Howard's boss hovering over her, and she looked up, startled. He grinned down at her expansively.

"Care to dance, my dear?" he asked.

"No... no, thank you, Ralph."

"Oh, come on. Norma asked your husband to, and they're having fun. See?" He indicated the couple who were dancing on the rug, and it was only then that Cindy realized that the living room had changed in the brief time she'd been in the kitchen. She had no idea that Ralph had been busily at work, having seen his lovely wife take her into the kitchen, that he had been waiting for the chance to start his work...

Low, slow-rhythmed music filtered from the large radio-phonograph combination in one corner, filling the room with almost a fog of violins and muted woodwinds. The fire had been banked, and now only the glowing embers lit the room, making deep, dancing shadows against the walls and ceiling. And there, in the middle of the room were Norma and Howard, dancing.

Dancing? Cindy couldn't believe her eyes. That wasn't dancing they were doing. They were far too close together, embracing each other passionately as though they were lovers and not just friends. And Norma was with each beat grinding her hips into the pelvis of her husband! Thrusting her breasts into his chest! Resting her sweetly smiling face on his shoulder!

Ralph caught on to what Cindy was looking at. He chortled. "Oh, ho, ho, don't get so upset, Cindy. That's just her way of dancing." He held out his hand. "C'mon, let's do the same."

Cindy found it difficult to stand after drinking so heavily, and she swayed noticeably. Ralph calmly enveloped her in his strong arms and held her close, and she in turn found it easier to hold onto him with her arms around his waist and lean against him for support. The music flowed like soft wine around her ears and she shut her eyes, dreaming that this was Howard she was with.

Ralph found that his cock was beginning to expand, to grow into a swelling, rigid pole in his pants as he held the alcoholically relaxed young wife. He slowly began to stroke her back, much as one would a cat to make it purr and with the same effects. Cindy snuggled closer, nuzzling his shirt.

Yes, yes, this is working perfectly. Both of them drunk, both beginning to be whipped into a fever-pitch. Norma must have really talked to her, all right; really explained that sex is something to be experienced to the fullest, and not rejected.

And while Norma had been in the kitchen with Cindy, Ralph had taken the opportunity to begin on Howard. He'd told him that not only was he, Ralph, proud to have him as a friend, but that Norma really liked him too. "I mean, really likes you, my boy. She's always talking about how good- looking you are, how masculine you are, how virile you must be in bed. Heh, heh. I've been kidding her that she'd probably like you to make love to her... and you know what, Howie-boy? I bet she would. I bet she would."

Howard had flushed, murmuring his thanks for such compliments, but Ralph had known it had gone deeper than that. He knew--it always did. After all, Norma was one hell of a sexy dish, and when she wanted to turn on the heat, it burned through all opposition. And as he looked over at his seductive wife now, as he held the charming Mrs. Jamison close to his ever expanding penis, he could tell that all of her burners were on. She was after Howard, and Howard is what she'd get!

And when she got him... Ralph would get that sweet, tender cunt of Howard's pretty wife! He groaned and shoved his buttocks closer, rubbing them against Cindy's thighs, easing one leg between her legs so that he pressed against her pubic area.

How right he was! Ralph knew how to motivate people, whether it was to sell a car or fuck his wife. As he talked to the stupifiedly drunk young husband, Howard began to conjure up the image of himself fucking Norma rather than Ralph--of replacing Ralph in that set of intimate photos his boss had shown him yesterday, the ones showing Norma, buff naked, and Ralph writhing on their bed, doing all the perversions and positions imaginable. It had cost Howard the price of showing Ralph a set he had taken of himself and Cindy the night before, but it had been worth it! Goddamn, his boss's wife looked like a fine piece!

She is obviously one hell of a lay! By those pictures she is like Bonnie: a cock-sucking, wild-fucking woman! But then a modicum of sobriety returned to Howard. The tingling in his cock at the thought of entering that wild pussy of Norma's wouldn't go away, though, not after the seed had been planted by his boss. Oh Christ, calm down. This its your manager's wife you're talking about. Ease of, and ease off on the booze, too, before you foul things up.

But then Norma had headed straight for him after coming out of the kitchen. He hadn't even noticed that Ralph had put on records and there was music until she'd asked him to dance with her. Impulsively, rashly, he'd agreed, and suddenly he was holding her closer than he'd ever danced with Cindy! It was all but a rape on the floor with clothes on! On and on her belly and hips ground into him, brushing teasingly against the outline of his cock. Her muscles seemed to linger there, massaging gently, slowly in time to the music, sending burning ripples of passion flooding through him...

"Having a good time, Howie?" she breathed into his ear.

"Y... yes," he answered. His voice sounded strangely hoarse. "I'm having a fine time."