Chapter 2

RJ got to his office in downtown Kingsport in record time. He checked his watch. The Number 15 bus hadn't arrived at the stop yet. He watched the street in the reflection of the bank's front window. He gave his reflection his best Douglas Fairbanks look and told himself that he still looked good for a middle-aged bank manager.

Casually scanning the area, he sidled over to the newsstand and pretended to browse the stall for magazines. His hands clenched and unclenched nervously. He was about to commit adultery and, in a small Southern town things like that had to be done discreetly. He'd been watching her for weeks, carefully sizing her up. While planning his assault on young Elsa Flint's virtue, he had rationalized the whole affair to himself. He needed an outlet outside of his home, a means to vent his wilder lusts without shaming himself in front of his wife. Other men had mistresses. Even he'd done it before. Taking one last look at the pulp serials, he told himself that he'd have some fun with this new girl for a few months and then break it off. No one would know and no one would get hurt.

The bus arrived and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the person he was waiting for. Tall and lean, Elsa Flint was easy to spot descending from the bus, and RJ quietly fell into step behind her as she entered the building. RJ didn't look at Elsa, although he used the polished brass elevator door to admire the way her dress flowed over her breasts and hips and the green color accentuated her bobbed red hair. He found himself comparing Elsa's small breasts to his wife Harriet's pillowy bosom. Elsa's hips were slimmer as well but, RJ opined, there was cushion on the 20-year-old girl.

The elevator's brass door opened and RJ calmly stood at the back of the car. People filed in and turned around, staring at the dial at the top of the door as its hand moved from number to number. RJ stood still, moving his hand slowly as if reaching for his pocket. When his palm touched his jacket, it turned and reached sideways. RJ's fingertips brushed against the skirt of Elsa's cotton dress. She stiffened but didn't cry out or try to remove his hand. Encouraged, he cupped his hand, pressed his palm against her firm little bottom, and gave it a light squeeze. Still, she didn't make a sound or try to shuffle away from his contact.

The door opened to RJ's floor. "Excuse me," he said to the man in front of him, "my floor." Elsa's hip contacted his as they both tried to squeeze out of the elevator's door. "Good morning, Miss Flint," he said with a smirk, noting the light flush on her neck.

Although the high school was only six or seven blocks from her house, Rebecca preferred to ride with her boyfriend Lance. Attracted by his car, his even white smile, and his thick meaty arms, Rebecca loved the way the other kids looked at her enviously when she was with him. She was the stunningly beautiful captain of the cheerleading squad. He was the gorgeously handsome varsity pitcher. The Student Body President and the Homecoming Queen. They were the perfect couple, she thought. They'd even been voted "Most Likely to Succeed."

Lance shot her a crooked grin and dropped his hand from the gear shift to her knee. This had also become part of their routine. He'd drive her to school, park behind the hedge that surrounded the football practice field, and enjoy a brief fondling session before school started. Every day, his hand got a little higher up her thigh or little deeper into her blouse.

Today he trailed his hand up to her knee. His fingertip contacted the smooth flesh under the hem of her school uniform, but she quickly trapped his hand in hers.

"Lance! Stop it. You'll wrinkle my dress." He didn't move his hand, his strength easily defeating her. Rebecca stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout. "We can meet at McPherson's soda counter after school and you can apologize."

He laughed. "Yeah, Babe. Whatever you say." Shifting his grip to her wrist, he pulled her across the bench seat and ground her palm against his groin. Rebecca gasped as she felt the thick sausage-like member under his woolen trousers. "But I'm going to introduce you to this one day soon. I've got big plans for you after the Graduation Week Dance."

Rebecca twisted her hand free and pushed the Model T's door open. Clutching her books to her chest, her shoes made staccato sounds against the sidewalk as she walked quickly toward the school building. She could feel Lance's eyes follow her but she didn't dare look back as she ducked around the corner of the hedge.

Millie dropped her laundry basket on the floor and quickly pulled the blanket off Bud's bed. Automatically reaching to straighten the sheet, Millie laughed when she saw a small collection of yellowish stains in the middle of the bed. Raising the sheet to her face, she smelled Bud's boy-cum. The stains were fresh and his seed smelled sharp and tangy.

The thought of Bud playing with himself reminded Millie why she was hurrying through her morning chores. Even though she didn't normally do the sheets on Tuesday, Millie threw clean sheets on the bed and straightened the blanket. Today was grocery day and she wanted to be done with the bedrooms before the vegetables got delivered.

RJ had watched Elsa all morning through his office's glass window. Seeing her start to deliver the morning mail, he pulled the window shade down and cracked the door. When Elsa's soft knock came, RJ did his best to look as if he were engrossed in the papers on his desk.

"Why come in. Elsa, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

RJ stood and moved to the door, holding it open to let the girl enter the small office. Elsa didn't meet his eyes as she moved straight for the desk. He quietly closed it behind her and leaned against it, watching her skirt pull taut against her rear end as she collected the contents of his out tray.

He slid behind her. She stood quickly and bumped against his chest. RJ's hands cradled her waist to steady her but didn't move. He took a deep breath of her perfume and shifted his hands along her dress's beltline.

"A smart girl like you is too valuable to leave in the admin pool for too long," he whispered into her ear. He brushed his cheek against her hair but she remained stiff and unmoving. "I could be a lot of help to someone looking to move up in the company. Someone looking for a mentor or an ally."

His hands found the line of buttons that ran down the front of her dress. Elsa stood stock-still, afraid to even breathe. RJ's fingers followed the buttons until he cupped her breasts, thankful that she wore a brassiere rather than an old-fashioned corset.

"Noo," she whispered, but she seemed to lean back against him, thawing under his touch.

Someone knocked on his door and RJ took a quick step away from the trapped office girl. Holding a sheaf of papers to hide his bulging crotch, he called out, "Come in."

RJ sat behind his desk, only half listening to the mundane office matter. He saw Elsa glance furtively at him as she shuffled through the office correspondence. He gave her his most charming grin but she ducked her head and left the office, her heels clacking on the tile.

Just thirty minutes later, RJ strode into Dennehy's Diner and scanned the tables for his friend Scooter. He'd been a friend of Scot McPherson's since they were boys. They had shared everything with each other, played on the same sports teams, and even joined the Army together. Peering into the dim interior, RJ listened for Scooter's braying laugh to give away his position. Hearing his friend at the far end of the counter, RJ walked over and smoothly slid on to a lunch stool.

"How they hanging, Scooter?" RJ's smile was split by his broad grin.

"Low and a little to the left. Haw, haw." He snapped his fingers to get the waitress' attention. "Goldie, bring us some Specials."

The girl shuffled down to their end of the lunch counter, the cigarette she'd tucked behind one ear held back a strand of her brittle, bleached hair. "Anything else?" she arched her eyebrow with a knowing look.

RJ sat back so that Goldie could see his crotch and adjusted his semi-stiff member. He usually enjoyed poking Goldie in the storeroom before returning to work, but today RJ wanted to get back to the office and continue his conversation with Miss Flint. "I'll just have a cigar today," he said, opting for a quick blowjob instead.

Goldie cocked her hands on her bony hips and pulled her shoulders back to emphasize her small breasts. "So the pie's not to your liking anymore?" She scribbled on her order pad. "And how 'bout you Scooter? You in the mood for a slice of Goldie's pie?"