Chapter 3

Clay Marsdale arrived home after just having beaten the pants off one of his new pros. The competitive older man was ecstatic when he could still slaughter a much younger man on the courts. He'd done everything else now in life and tennis had become his passion. He parked his Mercedes in the large garage and went directly to his screening room. Clay was a gadget fanatic and his newest craze was having all matter of video equipment. He had a screening room size video screen and his camcorder was used for more than just playing back the mistakes of tennis students at the clinic.

Anxiously, he took the cartridge out and put it in the machine and with a couple of adjustments the image slowly materialized on the giant screen. There was a knock on the door.

"Clay, darling, are you here?" Nina asked softly.

"Yes, baby, hang on for a second."

The tape was wound into the machine now and the figures were clearly visible and identifiable. He opened the door to admit his wife.

Nina was carrying a shaker of martinis and two glasses. Clay gratefully accepted one from her and kissed his wife full on the lips. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and he knew that she had quite a headstart on him.

"Just what the doctor ordered," he said looking over her trim figure. She was clad in a pair of french cut beige gabardine pants and a pure silk beige silk shirt tied under her breasts and left unbuttoned sufficiently to reveal the cleavage fully exposed and the upper surfaces of her upthrusting breasts swelling out provocatively. There was no underwear line visible under the blouse or the slacks.

The wealthy man sipped appreciatively at the martini, as he gazed at his exotic wife, a slightly suggestive leer beginning to form around his mouth.

"Dry enough for you, darling?" she asked.

"Terrific, just like you." He reached out a hand to her and cupped a breast in his strong fingers. It was as he had hoped. She was not wearing a bra under her shirt. He felt the beginnings of arousal.

"Did you miss your little wife, Clay?" She pulled away from him and modeled the outfit she was wearing, striking an obscene pose at the end of the demonstration, her hips pulled forward, her arms back, causing her breasts to strain for release from her blouse. Then she undulated her hips, sensually, suggestively, performing a sexually exciting dance just for him.

"Did I... ? Christ, do you want me to fuck you right here in the screening room?" His eyes were glazing over with lust.

"Actually I prefer the bearskin in the living room... but I'm not particular, darling," she teased.

Nina took a sip from her martini and suddenly she noticed that there was something on the screen. "Well, Fellini, what do we have here?" she asked him.

"Oh, these are my new stars," he said. "You know how I like my little cinema verite."

Nina laughed and walked closer to the giant screen. "Why, Clay this is really exceptional. Who's the woman?"

"She's working part-time in the pro shop. She's David Dunn's wife. Her name's Sally. Sweet little Sally."

"Sally the sweet little cocksucker," Nina corrected and just look at that hunk of meat she's got in her mouth. Isn't that Eddie Frampton she's sucking off?" she asked a salacious grin curling around the comers of her lips.

"That's him. The whole package."

Nina continued watching the action on the screen. "Baby, is he hung, to say the least."

Clay Marsdale looked at his wife, shrewdly. "You like that piece of meat, huh, baby?"

"And how. I'm getting wet just looking at it," the Oriental woman said lewdly.

"I thought you would," he said very sure of himself. "How'd you like to sample it?"

"No samples. I want the full meal!" she exclaimed.

"All right, my darling, he's all yours. I'm going to have them over Saturday night for cocktails."

Nina was not at all surprised. "Them?" she asked. "You're not going to invite them?"

"Of course, them. it's a package deal, darling. I don't want one without the other."

"You don't know her too well, do you?" Nina asked her voice pointedly sarcastic.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We had a little talk this afternoon and apparently little Ms. Mary Mormon thinks fucking is disgusting or against nature or something. She's really a goddamn little prude. Getting her to swap, Clay, is going to be a major undertaking."

"I dare say I can warm her up a little. I probably have a lot more experience than that stud husband of hers."

"I'm sure you can, dear," Nina said distractedly. "I'm going to make another shaker of martinis and then I want to see what a stud I'm married to. Don't go away, lover." Nina left the screening room swishing her hips at him, provocatively.

He gave her a playful slap on the ass, grabbing at the firm flesh for good measure. "Oh, does my little wife, want to indulge in unnatural behavior this evening?"

"Bet your ass, I do," she said closing the door.

Clay waited a few minutes and when Nina didn't return he knew that she was probably playing one of her little games where she wanted him to go in search of her.

The wealthy husband chuckled to himself. This is what kept life interesting, exciting and adventurous. He never knew where Nina would choose to have their little sexual bouts. Clay had had hundreds of women in his lifetime but had always become bored after a while with each but with Nina there was no possibility of boredom. It was almost as if the Oriental woman had been schooled in the ways of delighting a man and indeed she had in her native Taiwan.

Clay eagerly began walking from room to room in the well-equipped mansion. At last, he heard music in the large room where they usually entertained. The room was done in Italian provincial and as he entered he saw the lights had been dimmed and at first he didn't see his small wife. Usually they chose to hear classical music in this room because it seemed to go with the mood and decoration of the room but tonight Nina had put on a grinding disco record and when he caught sight of her his heart began to beat harder.

In the middle of the room was an imported Italian marble fountain around which were placed statues caned by a master carver from Florence. The statues were in the style of the "David" and all the genitals were executed to scale. Nina was entwined with the white marble statue and she was doing a quick bumping dance, rubbing her female loins, obscenely, against the cold lifelike genitals of the statue.

"So, you're two-timing me, again!" he said jovially.

"The martini shaker is on the table. Pour them will you darling?" she asked her voice low and throaty.

He went over and poured the fresh drinks, taking a seat to watch his wife's lewd entertainment.

From experience she knew that she had his full attention now and suddenly she leaped on top of their heavy glass coffee table where she threw herself with abandon into a wild lewdly exciting dance, her hips moving in circles and the muscles of her belly rippling and undulating in time to the driving disco beat.

Marsdale watched his tiny Oriental wife with fascination. She was a superb dancer and he marveled at her muscular control, the sensuousness of her movements and her projected sexuality that never failed to arouse him. She had kept up with her dancing even after their marriage.

He felt the familiar crawling, tensing sensation in his scrotum and the rush of throbbingly hot blood into his penis, as it began to rise to erection under his tennis gear that he had not changed yet since his arrival home. He wanted to rip off his sports clothes, grab her and lay her on the glass coffee table, but he had found long ago that it was better to play her game.

When she was ready she would let him know. He must wait for her, and he had learned to wait, to reap the benefits of the waiting in heightened enjoyment for both of them.

She ended her dance and Nina Marsdale slid lithely from the glass topped table, casting about an eye for her drink. And then she came to him. Insinuating her narrow hips between his legs, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, long, hard and deep, using her tongue to probe and titillate. After some moments, she broke the hiss and trailed her tongue across his jowls to his ear. Her tongue lashed out, the tip of it drilling into his ear and running in little circles around it.

She whispered, "My darling, Clay."

The older man set his drink down on the bar and reached for her, grabbing a churning buttock in each hand, he pulled, roughly, to his hardening prick, letting her feel the warmth and stiffness of him.

"Jesus Christ! Nina, you're hotter than a Taiwan firecracker tonight. I can't wait!"

Nina twisted from his grasp and twirled across the floor to a new record from the stereo; then, as she came back to the glass table, she continued her dance for a few moments, before sinking slowly to her knees; finally, she lay prone, posing prettily, upon the glass table top with the inlaid Italian mirrors around it.

"Pass me my drink, Clay, darling, I'm starting to fade."

He handed her the martini. She sipped from it, her lovely slanted eyes smoldering, smokily, at him over the brim of the small glass. She smiled an inscrutable little smile at him.

"What are you waiting for husband, dear?"

With a little smile she rolled to her stomach on the mirrored table, sipping again from her martini.

Clay drained his glass and set it down on the bar. He came off his seat and he came to her running a hand along the smooth contours of her back and bottom. His cock was rock hard, throbbingly alert and ready, and he tried to slip his hand under the waistband of her slacks.

"Not so fast, big boy," she said teasingly, as she rolled over onto her back.

Clay leaned over her and kissed her hard with his lips and tongue, thrusting deeply into her mouth, sucking the sweet nectar of her. His hands were busy with the buttons of her silk blouse, and the magnificent mounds of firm, full flesh came bursting from their confinement, proudly peaked when he had unbuttoned the last button.

Quickly, he glued his mouth to one nipple, sucking and nipping it to erection, causing her to moan in throaty pleasure, as he massaged the other breast with his hand, kneading the silky, smoothness of them and teasing the pink-hued nipple between his thumb and finger.

At this point, his hand left her breast, and went in search of other things, down across her belly, smoothing down the swell of her gently rounded hip and back to the inside of her thigh to the soft, inner juncture, where he allowed his hand to roam around the fleecy softness of her gently squirming pubic mound. Then, his hand dipped between her thighs, as she parted them for him, allowing him full access to the tight, elastic nether ring of her cunt.

He insinuated his middle finger into the crease, forcing the cloth of her pants into the moist, vaginal opening.

Clay broke the kiss, went around to the end of the table, grabbed his wife by the ankles and heaved her toward him until her buttocks were even with the mirrors of the table. He pulled at her zipper and gave her slacks a hard yank down over her hips, smoothly, suddenly, exposing her warm, slightly throbbing cunt to him, its darkly hair-lined slit staring up at him with moist, viscous droplets of libidinous liquid glistening along the furrow.