Chapter 2

"Helen!" The psychiatrist's voice was imperative. "You must calm down. Now remember everything we discussed in my office last Thursday."

"I do remember!" The pretty blonde thirty-five year old ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "But it doesn't do me any good remembering at the time. I'm telling you, Stan. I just don't know what I'm going to do! I feel like killing Adam. Either killing him or killing myself!"

"Now, that wouldn't solve much would it?" Stan's voice was calm now, more like the voice he used in the office with his patients unless some other tone was called for.

"It would solve everything!" Helen was sitting in the bedroom of the apartment looking toward the big mirror that hung over the dresser. In it she could see herself, still pretty save for the expression of anxiety on her face. Her disheveled blonde curls hung to her shoulders which were naked except for the thin strand of the straps of her gown. The distressed wife hadn't even gotten dressed that day, and it was nearing dusk now. Her own words seemed to echo in her head as she stared at her reflection across the room. Then her attention went back to her analyst. He'd been talking for some time, she realized, and she didn't have the faintest idea of what he'd been saying. She was pleased to note, however, that she had brought out that "concerned" tone in his voice. He always sounded extra careful when she got to talking about killing herself. That would teach him, she thought. If I really did it. That would teach Adam, too!

"Helen, you've got to understand that you must help yourself. In this way, you'll be helping Adam, too. You see, you can't change him before you change yourself. He is responding to the old person in you, not the new woman you wish to be."

"I'll help him, all right! I'll strangle him next time he comes home and falls asleep on the sofa! I'll strangle him!"

"That's just the kind of thing I'm talking about, Helen!"

"Why do I have to be reasonable? I'm sick and tired of being reasonable. What's it gotten me so far? A tired old man for a husband! No sex, no one to talk to, no nothing!"

"Adam is a very distinguished scientist. That's something."

"But what about me?" Helen vehemently pointed to herself while looking at her negligee-clad form in the mirror.

"You'll have to make your own way, Helen. That's what I've been telling you. Now as far as sex is concerned, you've got to realize that you can find sex outside of marriage. This might be just the thing to bring a little life back into the marriage."

"Oh, for crissakes, Stan. Where am I going to find a lover?"

"Other women manage."

"Are you trying to bring me up or put me down?"

"Neither, I'm just trying to point out what the trends are today. There's nothing sinful about sex, Helen, and more and more people are finding this out every day. One day you, tool will realize it."

"I'd love to realize it, but with my husband. That's why 1 married him. I didn't realize that it was going to be all over after the first two years. I mean, if I didn't know Adam, I'd swear he had another woman!"

The prospect brought out such a rage of jealousy within Helen that her hand shook on the telephone. She was brought to her senses, however, by the thought. No, she would never commit suicide and let Adam find another woman to marry. Another woman with whom he might be happier than he was with her! No, she'd never let that happen!

"How about you, Stan? Why don't you make love with me, since you're such a liberal type?" she asked tauntingly.

"Well, I don't think that would help your analysis, really," Stan answered. Helen hated him sometimes, and this was one of them.

"You're rejecting me," she told him. "Don't tell me you've never made love with one of your patients!"

"I didn't say that."

"GO TO HELL!" Helen slammed down the telephone and threw the entire set across the room. It made a satisfying noise of bells and thick plastic as it hit the wall, and the low hum of the dial tone reached her from where she sat. "What good is analysis anyway?" she asked herself out loud. Once more she contemplated never going to see Stan again. She couldn't see that the psychiatrist was doing her any good. But then she wasn't sure of that either. It was hard to tell. She certainly didn't agree with half the things he said to her. But then he was the doctor, and she was the patient. He was just about the only person that she talked to, and the thought of starting out all over again with another analyst was depressing to say the least as was the thought of trying to muddle through her life on her own.

Slowly, Helen rose and began to slip out of her black lace gown. It had been bought with the idea in mind of tempting her husband into some kind of interest in her. But it had not worked, of course. Tears brimmed to the blonde wife's eyes as she uncovered the smooth creamy planes of her naked body. Her large breasts were just as firm and attractive as ever with their rosy tips that were thick and pouting, just waiting for Adam's fingers or even his mouth. She blushed at the thought. How long had it been since he'd made love with her? Really made love? It had been two weeks now since he'd touched her, and now as she thought about it, Helen realized that he hadn't actually touched her. No, he'd made a few in and out motions, his penis fitted snugly inside her, and then he'd cum and he rolled off to the side, and that was it. He'd never once kissed her or felt her breasts or anything else for that matter during the entire brief operation.

She just couldn't go on like this! The golden blonde area of her pussy caught her attention in the mirror. Her thighs were full and long, and the smoothly rounded mounds of her buttocks were just the right size. Why then couldn't she manage to attract her own husband? What was wrong with her? She knew that Stan would say, "There's nothing wrong with you, Helen. If anything there's something wrong with him, but that is not the point. The point is to approach the problem from an entirely different angle."

Well, tonight, that's what I'm going to do! Helen resolved. I don't care what, I'm going to get him to pay some attention to me!

Adam Randolph pulled his Ford Pinto into the apartment house garage and got out. He left it at the entrance within the building, knowing that Howie would come and park it for him in the space allotted to him. Then he took the elevator up to the 12th floor and stepped out. His briefcase contained the precious notebook in which he had begun the notes on his new experiment, including the short questionnaire which he had had Betty Johnson fill out for him. He was looking forward to rereading it all in his study once he entered the spacious apartment. He lived in one of the few old apartment buildings left in New York, a spacious apartment with high ceilings and seven rooms was a luxury that the professor fully appreciated. Of course, he had gotten the apartment through a friend when he'd gotten the post teaching at the University. He and Helen had moved from New Jersey seven years before and settled into the apartment. For a while Helen had grumbled about the hectic city life and the fact that they knew hardly any of the neighbors, but eventually she'd seemed to get used to it, or as used to it as she ever would. In any case, there was no question of moving for the professor. His work was here in the city, and his position was a coveted one among his colleagues. He taught several classes, lectured two times a month, and had unlimited use of the laboratories at the school. What more could he ask?

Randolph chuckled to himself as he fit his key into the lock and turned. Now he knew what more he could ask, all right! It was late, and the professor expected his wife to be in the bedroom sleeping. He would go directly to his study and reread his notes. By God! His loins were still throbbing at the thought of what he'd done to Miss Johnson! He couldn't wait to go over the whole thing again, verifying his experiment.

With a spring in his step, Adam went into his study and flicked on the light. To his surprise, he saw that his wife was sleeping on the sofa! "Helen!" he gasped. "What the devil?"

Helen sat up, blinking her eyes. She clutched the sheet up to her neck, remembering that she was naked beneath it. Now she didn't feel nearly as bold as she had earlier when she'd decided to waylay her husband in his study, the place where he spent most of his time when he was home. No, now she was just sleepy, and she felt foolish to say the least. But her husband stood looking at her so incredulously, his mouth gaping fish-like at the sight of her that Helen grew suddenly angry and defiant. Why did he look at her like that? How stupid he looked standing there with his briefcase wearing that same old overcoat and that hat that she hated. Was she such a stranger to him, so little a part of his life that the sight of her in his study would shock him so?

"I thought I'd wait for you here," she said tersely, "since you hardly ever get to bed anymore!"

'Well, really, Helen!" Adam moved at last, placing his briefcase carefully upon his big oak desk and turning on the small lamp on it. He slowly unbuttoned his overcoat and took it to the closet and carefully hung it up the way he usually did

Watching him, Helen grew more and more distressed. "Are you going to continue to ignore me, then?" she asked.

Adam turned toward her. "Why, I'm not ignoring you," he said. "I'm merely hanging up my coat."

This only infuriated Helen all the more. "Hanging up your coat! Huh!" she grunted, playing for time, trying to think of what tack to take now. The pretty blonde woman had visualized it all quite differently, and now she was forced to deal with a reality which was growing more and more confusing.

"I... I thought we might talk a little!" she declared, her blue eyes glinting with anger...

Adam sat down behind his desk. "Talk? About what?" he inquired as though she had said the strangest thing in the world.

"Anything. About anything!" Helen spat out. "I'm a woman, Adam! I need companionship. I need..." Her voice trailed off and a crimson shade colored her features. She grappled and twisted at the pink sheet she had [brought in from her bedroom, feeling more naked than she'd dreamed possible underneath. Why hadn't she just gone to bed as usual? It was Stan's fault that she had attempted this confrontation!

"Yes?" Adam looked at his wife inquiringly. What was it anyway? Why didn't she leave him alone? Of all times to come bothering him, just when he was at the commencement of a very important phase of his life and his work.

"SEX!" The word slipped from Helen's lips and seemed to hang suspended in the room. Helen was aware of all the books on the shelf behind her husband's back. She felt mortified. How could she have said such a thing? She had, of course, intimated as much in the past, but never had she come right out and said it!

Adam regarded his wife and realized for the first time that she was naked underneath the sheet. His first reaction was to look down at his briefcase as if to ascertain that it was still there. Just looking at it gave him a raging erection, and the middle-aged scientist could feel his penis throbbing with life again.

"Sex?" he repeated, dumbly.

"Yes!" Helen felt she might as well brazen it out now that she'd started it. "You'd think you'd never heard of the word!"

Adam patted his briefcase absent-mindedly. "Oh, I've heard of it. Yes, I've heard of it."

Helen could stand it no longer. Suddenly, she jumped up and let the sheet fall away from her. There she stood, completely unclothed, her naked body lovely and trembling in need before her husband. "I'm not so bad, am I?" she asked. "I've got eyes. I can see myself in the mirror. I still look pretty good!"

"Yes, yes. You look fine!" Adam hastened to reassure her, noting that Helen was on the verge of becoming hysterical. That was the last thing he wanted. It was so disruptive.

"Beautiful! Say I look beautiful!" Helen spat out. "SAY IT!"

Funny how now that Helen was standing there in front of him stark naked, he was thinking of Miss Johnson. He would have to make a note about this. Nevertheless, Adam felt a definite excitement growing again inside him. If it was sex that Helen wanted, he supposed that he could accommodate her at this particular moment. Anything for a little peace and quiet. Couldn't very well have her going around screaming half the night when he had work that he wanted to do.

"Beautiful. Yes, you do look beautiful," he said compliantly.

"Oh, Christ, why can't you ever say anything on your own?" Helen cried, disheartened. She felt ashamed and reached for the sheet to cover her body. "I'm leaving. Get on with your work!" she said.

"No, don't go, Helen. I've got a little time." Adam got up and came toward her. As he drew near, the scientist could see that his wife was trembling and that she was extremely upset, and yet, he kept thinking about the voluptuous Miss Betty Johnson and how she had responded. "Come on, Helen, let's go into the bedroom," he said, taking his wife's arm gently.

Helen felt a surge of hope. A feeling of lewd excitement stirred in her loins despite her misgivings. Meekly, she accompanied her husband through the living room of their apartment, a room that was hardly ever used, to the bedroom. Once there, Adam headed her toward the bed while he began to undress. Helen slipped under the covers of the bed and watched her husband of ten years as he took off his clothes. Her breathing was shallow, guarded, and her eyes were half-closed as she waited for him. She dared not make a prediction about what was to happen or to think too much about just how her plan had apparently worked.

But when the thick knob of Adam's hardened penis came into view, Helen's heart skipped a beat. "Oh!" she gasped. She hadn't seen him look like this in years. Deep down inside, the blonde wife felt a sensation of impending happiness. She watched him coming toward her and felt a slight moistening down there between her legs. How she wanted him! How she loved her husband, still, despite everything! Soon he would be holding her, loving her. Perhaps he had finally seen just how much she needed him, needed to be loved by him.

She accepted him above her, felt the adjustments of his body to hers, the stomach that had thickened with the years pressed against her softness, her breasts touched up against his chest. Without too much ado, his knee spread her leg to the side.

"Oh, Adam, darling," she sighed.

Then the round head of her husband's penis touched at the soft, hair-trimmed entrance of her vaginal slit and throbbed against the quivering length of the moist little furrow. Experimentally, Adam moved his rock-hard cock up and down in the seething heat of his wife's yearning pussy until on one down- stroke, it was worming up against the tight entrance of her vagina. She felt it pushing against her and spread her legs hungrily, wanting the full, hard length of him way inside. She felt as though he'd never been so hard! She had to have him up inside her. Spontaneously, the excited wife placed both her hands on her husband's back, sliding them down toward his naked buttocks and holding on tight. Then spreading her legs around his body, she bent them obscenely around his back and pulled herself up brusquely, forcing his lust-stiffened hardness to slide directly up into the passion-drenched pit of her hotly waiting pussy. At first the tightness of her vaginal channel was a restrictive force, but then the delicate tissues accustomed themselves to his hard, male girth, and he was swallowed up to the tip of her womb. Helen thought she would burst with love for him as her lust grew minute by minute. This was the way it was supposed to be between them. Whatever had gone wrong before would be miraculously tightened by this act.