Chapter 4

Sally McLucas unlocked the front door and entered her living room, followed by a handsome, strongly built male of about thirty. She wandered about the room, switching on lights and drawing the drapes, all the time moving her well-shaped ass with an exaggerated wiggle that was coldly calculated to catch and hold the attention of her companion. Saxon had come bounding into the room at the first sound of key turning in lock, and Sally now took the big dog by the collar and led him gently but firmly from the room.

"I'm glad to see you, too, big fella," she told the excited dog. "But I'm going to need a little privacy. It's the garage for you tonight, boy. Come on, there's a good fella."

Then, just as she was about to leave the room with the dog, she turned back to her date, who was still standing by the front door.

"Why don't you fix us a drink, Frank, while I'm showing my best friend to his quarters? You'll find everything you need under the bar, I think. I'll have whatever you're having."

With a last mischievous, suggestive grin, she turned and left the room. Moments later the distant sound of barking was audible as Saxon set up a healthy protest to his unaccustomed exile from the center of activity. Sally returned to the living room.

"It sounds like he's being tortured, doesn't it, Frank?" she remarked as she settled herself comfortably on a stool in front of the bar. "Really I'm not as mean as you must think. The garage is very comfortable. I use it as a guest room in fact. I guess I have to face the fact that I have a very spoiled pet on my hands. He normally gets anything he wants around here."

"Anything?" Frank asked, one eyebrow rising in a quizzical grin as he leered suggestively at his pretty hostess.

Sally grinned back, a taunting gleam in her own eyes. "Yes, anything. Nothing is too good for my Saxon."

She appraised the tall blond male who was so carefully preparing martinis, and felt an excited little quiver in her cunt. It had been over a month now since she'd fucked a man--ever since Angie had moved in with her.

Although nothing had been said openly, Sally had assumed from Angie's very negative attitude toward men lately that she would be angry if Sally went out with one. So the sensual brunette had been doing her utmost to be content with Angie and Saxon for her sexual fulfillment. But although she found their company very stimulating, she continued to miss men.

Tonight had been her first deviation from the straight and narrow. When Angie had told her she was going out for dinner and a movie, Sally had automatically drifted over to Lew's Bar, and just as automatically got involved in conversation and flirtation with this good-looking stranger. Although she'd had no premeditated goal in mind, she knew Frank was hot for screwing, and his handsome face and well-muscled physique were creating a hot surge of liquid excitement in her horny pussy.

She reached for the martini Frank handed her and took a long, slow sip, her dark eyes staring over the rim of her glass into Frank's clear blue eyes.

"How do you like it, baby?" he asked, moving closer to Sally and slipping his arms around her shoulders as he spoke.

"It's delicious," she murmured as she reached around Frank to set her glass on the bar. "I'll take it however you like to dish it out," she continued lewdly, her hands reaching up to grasp Frank's head on either side and draw his lips down to hers.

Her tongue probed greedily up into the welcoming chasm of his mouth, meeting his own tongue and circling and sparring with it in obscene mutual titillation. She captured his tongue with her lips as it darted into her mouth and sucked suggestively on it, in wanton simulation of the fucking rhythm her moistening cunt craved so avidly.

After several moments, their lips parted and both gasped hungrily for air, then Sally began to plant moist, nipping kisses along Frank's cheeks and jawline and down over his neck. At last, her tongue darted excitingly into his ear and her teeth bit his earlobe in uninhibited sensual challenge.

"Jeez, you're really hot for a lay, aren't you, baby?" Frank said, his voice betraying a mixture of lust and wonder. "I'm sure as hell glad I decided to stop by Lew's tonight."

"So am I," Sally breathed into his ear, her butt wriggling back enticingly to meet his hands as they roved down over her back and smooth, swelling asscheeks.

Sally was wearing only a low-cut black cocktail dress and high, high platform heels that, combined with her natural height, made her almost as tall as Frank. It was easy for the big man to reach down past the hem of her short skirt and wriggle his hand up to stroke her shapely thigh.

At first his head scarcely believed what his hands were feeling. This girl was actually wearing a garter-belt and nylon stockings, something he hadn't come across since his college days, before the revolutionary discovery of pantyhose, what Frank Archer considered a horny man's worst enemy. Playfully he pulled on a garter strap and let it snap back against her skin.

"I didn't know girls wore this kind of thing any more," he commented, drawing his head back slightly to look into her eyes. He was startled and excited by the look of raw lust burning there.

"I only wear them for special occasions," Sally told him. "When I want to feel especially sexy. There's something rather delightfully wicked about them somehow, isn't there?"

It was true that Sally liked to wear garter and panties when she was feeling particularly horny, and was going out with the clear intention of getting laid. She had put them on tonight without really thinking about it, without really letting her conscious self in on the secret of what she intended to do. Though she loved Angie dearly, there was something perversely delicious about deceiving her like this--by dressing herself up like a common whore and going out and ensnaring the first man she came across. The thought titillated her, and she rubbed her crotch impatiently up against Frank's thigh to remind him exactly of what it was she needed and expected from him.

Burying his head in the attractive brunette's neck, Frank let his fingers climb higher up along her leg until they had passed the hem of her stockings and were grazing over the soft, sensitive inner expanse of her lushly molded thighs.

"Mmmm," Sally sighed appreciatively, her hands stroking encouragingly through his thick blond hair and down along his neck. "Oh, that feels good, Frank. I want you to take your shirt off," she told him. "You've got such a strong body, I bet it's going to feel just wonderful. I want to feel it. Can I?" she asked in a little-girl pout.

"Sure, baby, anything you want," he told her, tugging impatiently at his shirt and jacket, helping her remove them and throw them carelessly onto a chair. "But fair's fair," he said as he stood before her naked from the waist up. "If you get to see me naked, then I deserve equal satisfaction, right?"

"Of course, Frank," Sally agreed, her voice thick with excitement.

She was finding it incredibly titillating to be seducing a total stranger like this, to be having her way with this gorgeous hunk of man, preparing to use him for her own pleasure. She felt incredibly sexy and daring, more lewdly aroused than she had been in weeks.

Sally wanted to play the game her way, and she could see that Frank was ready for anything, provided he got his in the end. And she hadn't the slightest intention of cheating him--or herself-- out of that. She wanted to fuck this blond hulk like she hadn't wanted to do anything in a long time. But first, she wanted to have a little fun.

"Why don't you sit yourself down here and be comfortable?" she told him, pushing him gently down into a white leather bean bag chair, so his legs were sprawled along the carpet, and he was looking right up at her panty-covered pussy under her skirt.

"I'm going to put on a little show for you, okay?"

She went over to the stereo and put on an album of bawdy bump and grind music and began a lewd little dance in the middle of the living-room carpet, churning her hips in an obscene, exaggerated grind as she raised her dress slowly and tantalizingly up over her garter-striated thighs, her panty-protected pussy, her firm tanned belly, her lush tits in their lacy black brassiere. She took the dress off and threw it carelessly down on top of Frank's jacket. Then she turned her back to him, mesmerizing the man with the fluid motion of her shapely hips and butt.

"Whooeee! Take it all off, baby!" her guest enthused, warming up to this provocative situation of having a beautiful woman, a near stranger, doing a wild, abandoned strip-tease for him.

The sight of her well-developed body in its obscene costume was creating a definite stirring in his cock. He absently ran a hand down over the growing prick-bulge to soothe its impatience. He didn't take his eyes off Sally's tantalizing near-nakedness, so keen was he to see what she would do next.

Sally could feel pussy-juice moistening the crotchband of her panties as she became more and more excited by her own wanton performance before this foxy-looking stranger. As she churned her ass lasciviously back in Frank's direction, she slowly undid the fastener of her brassiere and eased it down off her arms, swinging the flimsy garment around over her head as she turned to face her audience of one, then tossing it to him. Frank grabbed the bra and crushed it excitedly in his hands, then threw it aside as he leaned forward to inspect the round, firm perfection of her tanned jugs.

"Man, I haven't seen a set of tits like that in I don't know how long!" he gloated. "Baby, you're really built."

"Why, thank you, sir," she drawled in a little-girl voice, caressing her boobs tenderly in her hands, tickling the nipples into erection right before his eyes.

She bent down in front of him, her knockers dangling provocatively before his face. Instinctively, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to him, sucking on first one and then the other ripe little nipple until both glistened with rosy hardness.

"Oh, that feels good, darling!" Sally exulted, her head thrown back in wanton ecstasy as she reveled in the tantalizing sensations charging through every nerve ending from the eager tonguing of her excited nipples.

At last, mustering all her strength, Sally braced herself firmly against Frank's shoulders and pushed herself back to her feet, leaving both herself and her audience seething with horniness.

Frank was tempted to throw this gorgeous, hot-blooded broad down onto the floor and put the prick to her right then and there, but his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to see what she would do next. Besides, he knew he'd get his rocks off eventually. He was going to relax and enjoy the show in the meantime.

Once again undulating in perfect rhythm to the music, Sally slipped a finger into each side of her panties and began to ease them down over the firm, sculpted contours of her hips. Watching with rapt attention, Frank could first see a few wiry hairs peeking out over the top, then the whole black vee of her beaver was exposed to him.

Sally turned her back to him again and bent forward, so the round globes of her buttcheeks were staring right at him as she eased her panties down over her legs and stepped out of them. His breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the molded smoothness of her ass, crisscrossed by the trappings of her garter.

"Jesus, what an ass!" he moaned, wriggling uncomfortably in his chair, rubbing his hand more energetically this time over the rock-hard cock-bulge in his trousers.

Sally turned and rose to face her audience, her smooth tanned body looking haughty and magnificent, even in her lewd costume of black garter and stockings and platform heels. She looked like some she-devil, tits large and thrusting, hips full and firm in their obscene black belt, thick pussy bush centered provocatively between two garter straps.