Chapter 6

As he entered the swinging door of the bank, Ray Denham was keeping his fingers crossed, mentally. In recent days he had come to understand that he was hoping to acquire the drugstore almost as much for his wife Sally's sake as for his own. At the party they had attended at the country club, she had been so different... and it was only then he had realized how routine and boring her life must have been since he brought her here to Quiggville. The excitement of an evening out had brought a sparkle to her he rarely saw, especially when she'd been asked to dance so much and had chatted with the other wives. Of course she'd had too much to drink, but he could even forgive that under the circumstances. When--if--they began to earn a good income from the drugstore, Sally could take her rightful place in the social life of the tight little community and he himself could afford to be more sociable and unbend a little from his driving all work, no play schedule. Everything depended on Lee Quigg's decision... which he would know in minutes now, after waiting so long.

Ray shook hands with the bank manager and nodded to John Blodgett as they welcomed him into the office. Both men had been drinking and had evidently been at it most of the morning, he thought, but their faces were as sober as if they had recently taken the pledge. He sat down in the indicated chair.

"Well, Ray, I didn't mean to put you off so long," Lee Quigg began, "the fact is this has been a difficult loan application for me, one of the most difficult ones that I reckon I've ever run up against."

The somber tone of his voice warned Ray even more than the cautious choice of words that his application had been rejected, and his whole lanky body seemed to sag in defeat.

"The Board of Directors simply wouldn't go for lending you any money," Quigg continued, "although John and I both spoke in your favor and did what we could to change their minds. Now, that's all I'm obligated to tell you--that your application was turned down. But I feel I have a... a moral obligation to give you the reason."

"That's all right," Ray said bitterly, "I'm aware of the reasons--no cash, no backing--no loan."

"It wasn't that Ray. You stand very high in the opinions of people in this town. You're a hard worker and a good manager... a fine credit risk. And I'm sure that you don't understand, or even suspect, why the Board wouldn't go along. I--well, damn it, this is kind of out of my line--"

"What Lee is trying to say," John Blodgett broke in smoothly, "is that this is a very small town, Ray, where everybody knows just about everything about everybody else. And it's a very moral town... good, church-going people. People that just don't like to do business with someone they feel is not one hundred percent up to those high standards of behavior. Now I'm going to be blunt, son, because there's just no other way. Frankly, the general consensus of feeling around town is that while you rate very high--well, your wife just doesn't fit in as a member of our strait-laced little community."

This statement was so ludicrous that at first Ray was not sure he was hearing right. Sally -not fit in Quiggville? Why, she was so far above the average local housewife in brains, education, character, and looks that there was not one woman he'd met here who could even come close to her. In his amazement, he at first rationalized that someone was jealous of Sally... maybe they had misinterpreted her natural reserve for snobbishness. "You've got to be kidding!" he exclaimed. "Christ, you know Sally. You know that's the most absurd piece of bullshit... who says she doesn't fit in? For that matter, what's her personality got to do with it anyway?"

"Simmer down, Ray. We're not talking about Sally's personality... I'm afraid it's a hell of a lot more serious than that. It's her morals that folks are questioning."

"Now, look here..." Ray came up out of his chair, one hand pulled back into a fist.

"Hold on, hold on!" Blodgett cried quickly, "You got to listen to us... We know how you feel. Do you think this is easy for me n' Lee to do, talk to a man this way about his wife?"

"All right," with a masterful effort that left his face white, Ray controlled his temper. "So what are the local witches saying about Sally? That she wears mini-skirts, I suppose? She doesn't make it to church every Sunday?"

"You better have a drink, Ray," Lee Quigg interposed, and he fetched one. "Now, I said all along maybe it's a psychiatric problem. When I first heard the talk I didn't believe it either... I said it's got to be some kind of mental quirk that the gal can't help..."

"Heard what talk?" the bewildered husband demanded, "What the hell are you guys trying to say? What's wrong with my wife?"

"The fact is," John Blodgett's voice dropped to a lower register and he sat down opposite Ray and leaned forward confidentially, "She's been seen with various men. Some of them-- I won't name names--have bragged about going out with her."

Ray hurled his glass at the opposite wall, where it shattered against the paneling, and leaped at his boss, nearly throttling him before Lee Quigg succeeded in pulling him away and wrestling him to a halt.

"It's true, Denham!" Quigg rasped. "It's all true. Get hold of yourself, now. Why the hell would we be telling you this if it wasn't the truth?"

Blodgett's purpling face slowly regained its normal ruddy hue. "Y'see," he pointed out, "we could have just turned down the loan, but we figured a man ought to know about it when his wife is putting out. Naturally the husband is always the last poor son- of-a-bitch to find out."

"It can't be," Ray said at last, groping his way to a chair as the room seemed to spin around him and their faces and voices blurred. "It can't be!" His Sally, his sweet innocent bride... dating other men, causing a scandal... cheating? He knew her better than that, knew everything there was to know about her, loved her... worshipped her. She wasn't capable of such a thing. Never. "There's a mistake somewhere," he declared. "Something has been... misinterpreted, blown up out of proportion. I know Sally too well!"

"I pray you're right," John Blodgett said fervently, "but it looks bad. Now that you're takin' the news a little better and more sensible-like, I'm going to tell you the worst, Ray. They're saying in the beer gardens and joints around town that your wife is a nymphomaniac, that she'll take on anyone. They go right up to your place while you're in the store! I didn't believe it myself, Ray, hell, who could when they'd met that sweet little gal? But when even the women got wind of it and started yakking about the scandal--well, you know my office windows look right out on the square?" Ray nodded, "I've seen it myself, son, seen men, even young punk kids, going in at your door. Now that of itself don't prove anything... but it don't look good, either."

"No," Ray shook his head, "Sally wouldn't do anything like that in... in our own house. There is an explanation, there must be. Maybe... I thought her piano pupils were all girls, but t- there could be boys. One thing, I'm going to find out what's going on... and if you've slandered my wife, I'll sue you for every cent in this God damned bank!"

"I've had my say," the silver-tongued Blodgett looked pained at Ray's threatening statement, "There's just one thing more. If you were to go home right now, Ray, I think you'd find Sally with a visitor. I saw a fellow go in just about the time you came over here."

With a strangled exclamation, the young pharmacist leaped up and headed for the door.

"Hold on!" Lee Quigg called after him, "John and I are coming along... we don't want any murders or mayhem..." They followed his loping pace at a brisk trot, but could not keep up with the long, fevered strides of the younger man. "Go on, Lee," Blodgett panted, "I'm going to bring Duke. All hell may break loose over there!" His car was handily parked at the curb and it took only seconds to release the big German Shepherd from the rear. The dog bounded ahead as if he knew their destination by instinct.

It would have been impossible to chart Ray Denham's thoughts as he ran half-blindly in the direction of his home, unseeing of cars that narrowly missed him or acquaintances who spoke when he passed them with his head down. He felt as though both body and mind were dissolving into pieces, blown apart by the shattering suggestion that his young bride was unfaithful... an adulteress... and in the eyes of the righteous hypocrites of Quiggville, little better than a whore!

Never! He couldn't accept it... there would have had to be some hint... she couldn't pretend to him, or live a lie like that, they were too close. Besides, he of all people in the world knew that Sally was not and never could be a nymphomaniac. She was, in fact, the next thing to frigid! Sex caused a revulsion in her that he was well aware of, to his sorrow, but that he had not been able to overcome with all his patience and tenderness in approaching her.

He stumbled... a ghastly thought had taken possession of his reeling mind. What if--he'd heard of such women--what if Sally had abnormal desires? What if she could only be aroused by brutality, turned on by violent sex? Unthinkable... but not impossible. But why, then, hadn't she sought his help, confided in him?

If she had been unfaithful, well, it was too much to contemplate what he would do in such a case. He groaned in misery and apprehension as he pushed open the unlocked first floor door. He stood there at the foot of the stairs trying to compose himself sufficiently to... HE HEARD VOICES UP THERE.

Christ, he wanted to run... take the steps three-at-a-time. But drumming into him was the more dominant thought, easy... slowly... don't give her any warning, catch her in the act. He mounted the long flight, cat-like.

Unreal. The bedroom door was wide open. They hadn't even taken the trouble to close the door. He moved in a vacuum, weightless... the room became a giant bubble enclosing him and the couple on the bed... no sounds intruded but their bestial cries as they urged each other on.

The foremost sight which presented itself to the incredulous eyes of the cuckolded husband was the enormous muscular white rump of a man on his knees, hunching over the softer, smaller buttocks of his partner, spreading the stretched white moons cruelly apart. Between the man's legs his hairy balls hung down, dancing obscenely in the palpating fingers of a little feminine hand... his wife's hand.

The husband rocked back as though driven by an unseen fist, clutching the door frame for support. When he had partially recovered his senses, he started to move forward again when his arm was seized from behind by the wheezing figure of Lee Quigg who had just entered the doorway, his eyes, too, bugging nearly out of their sockets.

The son-of-a-bitch is fucking her in the ass, Ray groaned, his vision narrowing to the hardened pole of flesh that disappeared completely into the stretched, red hole between her flattened buttocks, drawing the tender pink ridges of anal flesh back on the outward stroke. Sally's face was not that of a frigid woman. Dear Jesus, no, she wasn't resisting the furious untamed strokes that pummeled her unprotected ass-hole, she was undulating and waving her upraised buttocks salaciously back on his god damn cock. In dazed anguish Ray stared down at the incredible wanton performance of his wife, and to his sick amazement, Ray felt his own cock jerk with unwanted lust at the lurid sight of this huge stranger burying his endless cock deep into the writhing buttocks of his helplessly kneeling wife. Christ, she was reveling in her own debasement and being ass-fucked by this lousy brute... now she had her own fingers up in her raging pussy and was yelling "Oh... Oh... Oh God! It's wonderful! Fuck harder! Harder... fill my belly with your cum! Fill me!"

"Jesus H. Christ," the ejaculation burst from John Blodgett, who had joined them, "Look at her go," he marveled, as they stared, rooted, at the perverted coupling which was taking place before their incredulous eyes.

Next time I give Spanish Fly to a bitch, I'll take a turn at her first myself, Blodgett was thinking. He wouldn't have any further trouble with either of the Denhams, he felt sure... Ray's getting his proof... all the proof a man would ever need to know that his supposedly innocent wife was a whore... as for Sally, she'd never be able to hold her head up in Quiggville when this one got around. There had been some anxious moments, but his experiment had worked perfectly, after all. He thought he saw great possibilities for the future use of the aphrodisiac in keeping bitches like Sally Denham in line.

And then, suddenly, a slim furred black and tan body slipped past the three men and bounded right up on the bed with a joyous bark of recognition of two people the dog knew well.

"Duke!" Tully paused to mutter in surprise. Where the hell had the dog come from? Followed him and pushed the door open? But it would have taken more than Duke's presence to dislodge him from the girl's wide-stretched anus!

As for Sally, nothing else mattered in the world at that moment, only the awareness that instead of feeling shame and humiliation from the vile, unspeakable act he was submitting her to, she felt only an uncontrollable desire to reach the peak that was building... building tantalizingly deep inside her... and as he increased his assault into her warm, spongy passage her belly and loins screamed for release. Trickles of moisture inched down the gaping crevice between her straining ass-cheeks and on down the backs of her thighs.

Whining softly, the great, well-trained dog nuzzled eagerly at the naked shoulders of the woman whose scent he remembered... his mate. Instinctive canine excitement had gripped his hairy flanks even as every man watching was undeniably affected by the carnal vulgarity of the spectacle on the bed. Had it been another dog pumping into Sally's willingly upthrust buttocks, there is no doubt Duke would have fought it for supremacy and the right to plunge his own animal cock into her... but in these circumstances he only panted and whined his distress and backed his hind legs, repeatedly against Sally's kneeling form.

"Oh... Duke, boy," she gasped out, raising her head to stare at the red, shiny dart that was inching out of the dog's long black sheath. He was aroused... the dog wanted to fuck her, too, and why not, she asked herself... they all wanted it--men... dogs... the whole world wanted to fuck, and right now... Oh God... right now she felt as if she could fuck the whole world and it would not be enough, she could never get enough!

"Holy Christ!" Lee Quigg exclaimed, "Duke's going after her... she wants the God-damned dog, too, but there's no room for him to get in."

Shifting her weight to one arm, Sally suddenly and involuntarily reached out, under the animal's belly and touched the tapered, red, wet point of his cock. It fascinated her so she had to feel it, had to help the poor dumb beast to satisfaction... he deserved it more than these filthy men who had used her body for every unthinkable purpose, Duke was a hell of a lot nobler than they were. Patiently, as if he understood her efforts to relieve him, the animal edged closer and closer until the woman's head was actually under his stomach and she continued to carefully massage and play with his animal cock.

"Suck it, bitch! Suck it!" the lewd suggestion burst from Blodgett's curled, sneering mouth.

And she did. She simply opened her mouth and let the slender red point insert itself between her sensually parted lips... right into her mouth until it nearly touched the back of her throat and she began to move her tongue experimentally around the strange presence, savoring the sweet tangy taste. Excitement at the vile, disgusting thing she was doing began to grow inside her as the length of the growing shaft began to shoot into her mouth in regular rhythm. The perverted ecstasy of being fucked from behind into her anus while the hard animal penis sawed into her ovalled mouth nearly drove her insane. She wanted Duke to squirt his canine sperm into her mouth... wanted to taste his hot cum... and she sucked hungrily at his quivering cock while Tully buried his hard length in the forbidden depths of her ravaged rectum.

Ray was nearly mad from the sight of the horrifying depravity taking place in front of him, yet, perversely, his cock had swelled into painful hardness that lay hotly against his stomach. His wife sucked on and on at Duke's furiously pistoning shaft while guttural sounds of joy purred in her throat.

Suddenly, Duke whimpered as his glossy, strong body began to jerk convulsively and his haunches curved inwards. Sally's mouth was flooded with a hot, thick stream of sticky liquid which threatened to choke her as it poured lewdly down her desperately swallowing throat. Voraciously, she sucked and swallowed, gulping down the hot dog-cum as Duke whined again and her whole self was filled with rapturous masochistic feelings of unnatural joy. The organ began quickly to deflate while she still held it between her clasping lips, and then it withdrew from her and slipped back into its long sheath and the dog's warmth retreated from her.

Ray groaned inwardly as he watched his wife swallow the last pungent drops of the animal cum, running the pink tip of her tongue delicately around her lips to capture the last stringy drops. And then, suddenly he saw her mouth open again, gasping, as she uttered a scream and began to flail her head wildly from side to side, her matted, tangled hair swinging over her perspiration-soaked white shoulders. He sensed that she was in the beginning throes of an orgasm, and he stared hypnotized as she screwed her buttocks salaciously back against Tully's bulk like a rutting bitch dog. She screamed and moaned again and again as she rammed back insanely. She had never dreamed that such wanton, abandoned pleasure could exist in this world... she was gone!