"Well, John, everything went like clockwork," Harry Sommers said the next morning, as he and John Barnett sat in Hidden Valley Resort's bar, nursing two large Bloody Marys. "Jill Parker fell for it – hook, line and sinker."
John Barnett sat quietly, his large athletic body slouched down on the tall bar stool.
"Yeah, but will her husband fall for it?" Barnett asked, turning his tall frame on the stool to gaze at Harry. John Barnett was about thirty, and had the kind of young and innocent look that made women want to mother him. In fact, however, his blond good looks and naive manner were hardly enough to conceal the practiced man of the world that had made the most of all those mothering females.
"Of course he'll fall for it," Harry answered, grinning. "You fell for it, didn't you?"
John felt a twinge of embarrassment pass through him as he remembered how he, too, had been a victim of Harry and Gay Sommers scheming; but then he smiled, realizing how his initiation into Jamieson Advertising's secret swap club had been a major turning point in his life.
"Yeah, I guess so, you bastard," he chuckled, and raised his drink to his lips.
"Believe me, John," Harry went on, "When Tom Parker sees those pictures, he'll react the same way you did… the way any normal man would react. And my dear little wife will be there to exploit that reaction, don't forget."
"Christ, you two are unbelievable," Barnett laughed. "When I think of how many people you two must have lured into your traps.
"Lured?" Harry chuckled. "That's unkind, John. I like to think that Gay and I give people the opportunity to be caught."
John laughed out loud, and slapped his hand down loudly on the bar top.
"Well, I have to admit," he said. "It's done a world of good for me and Laura. I don't know what would have happened to us if you hadn't taken us under your wing, so to speak."
"And the same thing will happen to Tom and Jill Parker, believe me," Harry said.
The two men ordered another drink apiece, and sat quietly for awhile. But Harry could see that something was bothering his employee, and at last he asked him point blank what it was.
"I don't know exactly," John answered. "Well, I guess I do know, but I don't know whether I should mention it."
"Don't be an ass, John. What is it?"
"Well, it's just that I really wonder about Jill Parker, you know? I mean, from all outward appearances, she's just as cold a fish as her husband says she is. And if that's the case
"You wonder if she will be a constructive member of our little group, is that it?" Harry finished for him.
"Yeah, I guess so," John finished. "I mean, Tom's all right, we both know that. But to my mind, his wife is a big question mark, and I think we ought to be really careful about getting somebody into the group that's all uptight to begin with… I mean more uptight than normal about this kind of thing, you know?"
"Sure, I know. And I agree with you," Harry said. "But you can take it from me that all Jill Parker needs is a little thawing out, and she'll be one of our most… active members."
"But is the group the place for her to thaw out?" John asked, and then added: "Look, we both know what an iceberg can do to a group like ours. I mean we saw it with the Millers, remember?"
Harry did remember. George and Sara Miller had almost wrecked the group by making it the focal point of their own hang-ups, and trying to turn every session into some kind of group therapy.
"All right," Harry agreed, "I see your point. But the Parkers aren't the Millers, and Jill Parker is a volcano under that cool exterior, just waiting to explode. Take it from me."
"Well, I guess so," John said, "But I still don't like it."
"I tell you what, John," Harry said, after a pause, "Before we decide one way or the other, we'll give you a chance to try her out. You know, like take her for a test drive. Then you can make up your mind one way or the other, and I'll abide by your decision."
John turned slowly on his stool beside his boss, and tried to conceal his excitement. Hell, what a great idea!
"How are you going to manage that, Harry?"
"You just leave it to me," Harry grinned. "I'll think of something."
"I bet you will, you goddamn fox," John laughed.
"Well, what do you say?"
"What can I say? Chances like this don't grow on trees!"
"And neither do girls like Jill Parker," Harry added, his face growing conspiratorial. "Believe me, John, she'll be everything I promised!"
The two men laughed, and finished their drinks. And even as Gay Sommers was making her way to Tom Parker's cottage, Harry found himself constructing yet another plan for the seduction of Tom's beautiful young wife.
Jill Parker crept to the door of the bedroom, and peeked around the door at the inert form of her husband, lying naked on the rumpled bed, his breathing coming in short, hoarse gasps. From where she stood, Jill could almost smell the fetid odor of the cigarettes and liquor he'd consumed the night before, and it made her sick to even think about it.
She had had a restless night, and this morning when she had awakened, she'd felt as though every part of her body were bruised and torn, and she still felt obscenely filthy when she thought of the debasing attack her husband had made on her the night before. Her aching breasts were painful to the touch, the insides of her thighs were sore, and the softly tender lining of her abused cuntal mouth was red and chafed from the violent pounding of her drunken husband's irrational attack the night before.
As quietly as she could, Jill entered their bedroom, went to the closet, and pulled out the first dress she came to. She didn't want to wake her husband, didn't want to risk the chance of having another scene with him this morning. But as she was pulling the light summer dress over her head, Tom groaned and rolled over in the bed, his eyes making unsuccessful attempts to focus on her.
"Jesus Christ, what a head!" he moaned, his hands coming up to shade his eyes from the glare of the morning sun as it filled the room from the unshaded window. "Pull the blinds, will you, Jill?"
Jill hesitated, and then moved to draw the curtains across the room, plunging the room into a dim half-light.
"Goddamn, my fucking head," Tom repeated, starting to rise to a sitting position, and then falling back on the bed with a groan. He looked up as Jill made her way to the door.
"Where are you going?" "Out."
"Give me a minute to find my head, and I'll go with you."
"I'd rather be alone," Jill said shortly, and moved out into the other room.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, I'll only be a minute."
"Take your time. I'm going out alone."
Tom cursed under his breath, and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling with exaggerated exasperation.
"What do you want;- An apology? All right, I apologize. Satisfied?"
"No." Jill answered sadly, from the other room. "No, I'm not. Not by a long shot."
"Well, that makes two of us," Tom groaned, and turned on the bed.
"Fuck you, you bastard!" Jill spat at him, angered again, and made her way to the front door.
"Fat chance with you around!" Tom yelled after her, but she was already gone, slamming the front door with a crash that sent Tom's hands to his head again, and made his temples throb with the pain of the previous night's excesses.
Tom didn't know how long he'd fallen asleep after that, when a knocking woke him at the front door. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, numb from sleep and his hangover. Hell, Jill must have forgotten her key!
"Go climb in a window, bitch!" he shouted. "I'm not getting up!"
But then he was surprised to hear the melodious, purring voice of a woman filter in from outside, and it was a woman who was not his wife.
"Tom? Is that you?"
That certainly wasn't Jill, Tom thought quickly to himself She hadn't sounded that sexy in years. In fact, she had never sounded that sexy.
"Yes… Who is it?" Tom called out, wincing from the pain that shot through his head with the effort.
"It's Gay… Gay Sommers…" said the voice. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"
Gay Sommers? The boss' wife? God, what could she want with him so early in the morning? Automatically Tom checked the small clock on the bed stand, and realized it was not nearly so early as he'd thought.
"Yeah… yeah, sure… I'll be right there." He stumbled upright, a searing blast of hangover almost making him topple over, and he was forced to steady himself with a hand on the nightstand. He winced and rubbed his forehead, then staggered for the door.
He almost opened it before he realized he was completely naked. He grabbed his pants, which were thrown to one side from his burst of passion the night before, and hastily buckled them. Nude save for that, he opened the door.
His hangover was forced into submission by Gay Sommer's provocative beauty. She was fascinatingly sensual in a pair of lemon yellow shorts and a stretched brassiere of overloaded cups. He leaned against the door jamb, breathless, drinking in her long, statuesque legs, bronzed nude belly which showed flat and wrinkle free between the shorts and her halter, and the top twin halves of her barely concealed breasts. can I come in, Tom?" She asked hesitantly.
"Yes, please do." Tom said. He held the door open for her and she entered. As she brushed past him, he smelled the faint fragrance of her musky perfume, and the headiness of her scent was like nothing he'd ever dreamed of He shook his head, images of soft music, and crystal chandeliers, and brandy flashing briefly in his mind… The sudden provocative thoughts made him redden slightly, and he turned to the stunning brunette almost apologetically. Still, there was no denying it, he thought. She would probably be one holy terror in bed. The way she looked, the way she talked, smiled, and smelled were irrefutable testimonies to that.
"What can I do for you?" Tom asked as she sat down.
"I… I" she faltered, her eyes looking up at him. "Could I have a drink?"
"A… drink? This early in the morning?" Tom grinned, attempting a joke.
"Yes. I need one. It will give me strength."
Tom padded to where the bottle he had brought along was standing. "It's bourbon, Mrs. Sommers," he said, "It's all I've got."
"That'll be fine. Anything, so long as it's straight. And my name is Gay, remember?"
Tom went into the bathroom and brought out two water glasses and poured her a stiff shot. He looked at the other glass, tasted the dryness in his mouth and throat, and then poured a larger shot into the other glass and took a swallow.
The alcohol burned a path to his stomach and water welled in his eyes. Gasping a bit, he said, "What… what's the matter, Gay?"
"It's so embarrassing. I don't know how to put this."
A cold wave of apprehension began to creep along Tom's backbone. It was as if he had a premonition of some disastrous happening… in the back of his head a small warning bell tolled and the pit of his stomach rolled.
"Tell me" he urged.
"All right." Gay Sommers lowered her eyes from his. She took a long, low sip from the bourbon as though she was kissing its amber liquid. Then she blurted, "Do you know where your wife was last night?"
Tom was taken aback. What a crazy question! Of course he knew! "Right here," he replied, frowning. "Asleep."
"Oh God, if that were only true!" wailed Gay.
"I don't understand!"
"I can't tell you! I… I must show you."
Tom took another deep swallow. What was this beautiful woman saying? If Jill wasn't here, where the hell had she been? He could only watch as Gay reached across the tiny purse she had brought with her, and pulled out a stack of what looked like Polaroid photographic prints.
"Harry… my husband… is an amateur photographer. You know that Tom." Tom nodded in confusion. "Well, I found these in our cottage last night. Don't ask me how he took them, or how it happened, because I don't know. All I know is that I don't believe any of it."
Tom took the four prints that Gay handed to him, totally unprepared for what greeted his disbelieving eyes. There, in undeniable black and white, were the unmistakable images of his Jill, his own wife, and his boss, Harry Sommers! Jill's legs were lewdly spread wide open and Harry's outstretched middle finger could clearly be seen outlined under the flimsy little panties; but all in all, the worst thing was Jill's expression of wantonness. God! She looked almost as if she loved what he was doing up between her thighs.
"Oh no! It can't be!" Tom moaned in sudden anguish, turning the photos in his hands. "I don't believe it!"
"Neither did I, Tom… at first," Gay said to him, his face a study in righteous indignation.
"No, this is all a mistake. Jill wouldn't let herself… wouldn't let herself be pawed like that!" Tom insisted, his brain unable to comprehend the enormity of his wife's betrayal. "There must be some other explanation."
"There isn't, Tom. There isn't," Gay said. "And I think it's even worse than those pictures show."
"What do you mean… worse?" asked Tom, afraid to admit what Gay obviously was trying to tell him.
"I mean that these weren't the only pictures, Tom," lied the scheming seductress. "There were others, and I'm afraid those others showed even more damning evidence of what happened."
Tom stood, swaying from the combination of his hangover and the earth shaking news he was hearing, and tried to fight off the suspicions that they were gradually forcing him to come to.
"Where are they, these other pictures? I want to see them."
"I don't have them," Gay said. "When I woke up this morning, Harry was asleep, and I found all the pictures when I went into the living room of our cottage. I couldn't believe it at first, of course, and then, since Harry wasn't up yet, I went in to take a shower. When I got out, Harry was up; and by the time I got back out to the living room, the pictures were gone. All except these four, which I found in a wastebasket."
"And the other pictures…?" Tom asked in an agonized whisper.
Gay dropped her head, and said nothing, but to Tom it was answer enough. His wife, whom he had thought so cold, was actually cheating on him! Tom's mind whirled as he stared at the horribly incriminating photographs.
How could Jill do such a thing?… His cold, prudish, sexually contemptuous mate? He took another swallow, emptying the glass, only to have Gay refill it. He barely noticed her.
Yet, incredibly, as though there were some magical aphrodisiac in passing the four photos back and forth beneath his burning gaze, Tom found himself growing heatedly aroused. There was Jill… enjoying sex! That's the way he wanted her, that's the way she should be to him… only she wasn't… Oh God, that's the way their marriage should be, he thought, and the sight of her being the sensually awakened woman he craved and needed was terribly erotic!
Gay glanced at the front of Tom's pants as she poured the bourbon. She could see his long thick cock filling out and beginning to jump spasmodically, pushing the trouser material out further. The second drink disappeared faster than the first, and she poured him another. Good. good.
Tom felt his angrily pulsating penis leap into hardness as if it had a life of its own. He tried to will it limp again, to banish the beginning lewd thoughts which swirled in his mind along with the anguish of Jill's all too apparent adultery, but he might as well try to will the turn of a tide, for his hotly throbbing cock remained maddeningly swollen. Guiltily, he glanced at Gay Sommers.
Her eyes met his, and she was smiling with wetly parted lips.
"Tom," she breathed in sultry heaviness, "you're excited by this pictures aren't you?"
"I… well I… "he faltered. Jesus! What was she doing?
She laughed deep in her throat. "I know why you have a hard-on, Tom."
His breath quickened at her vernacular term. "What? You…?"
"You have a hard-on because you're seeing your wife with another man, isn't that right? You're all hot because she's going to fuck… fuck
"Oh God!" he managed to breath. His wildly jerking penis was a palpitating mass of nerve tendrils now and his brain reeled from the bourbon. Here was this provocative woman seeing her husband with his wife… and she was talking like this? Why? Didn't she know what could happen saying obscene words like that to a wronged man? He trembled and took another drink and found his hand shaking.
And then she reached out and touched the massively throbbing bulge at the base of his stomach.
"We have to do something, Tom," she murmured. She rubbed his long hardened thickness faster, making his blood boil. "We owe it to ourselves. Turnabout is fair play, and it can be good that way. Very, very good… don't you know? You want to hurt her for what she did last night, and I want to pay Harry back. They deserve to be hurt
Pay them back… Jill deserves to be hurt… the words spun and tumbled in Tom's alcohol dazed mind. Yes… he wanted to have revenge. and he pressed a little closer to Gay's exploring fingers.
Suddenly, as if the hold his marital vows had clamped upon him were strained from the pressure his boss' wife was placing upon them, Tom's lips moved slowly.
"Please… for God's sake! Cut it out! I'm only human!"
"So am I, Tom, and my cunt is on fire looking at these pictures. The only thing that'll put out the fire is a long hard cock. A cock like yours, deep… deep up inside my pussy."
"Jesus, Gay! Do you know what you're saying? You want me to. you… here?" gasped Tom.
"Yes, lover… fuck me, fuck me…" She unhooked her halter and stepped out of the brief shorts then, still entoning the obscene liturgy, "fuck me… fuck me…" over and over. She stood with her long naked legs spread wide apart and her head and shoulders pulled back, and the wet, petal-like lips of her wetly throbbing vagina peeked through her soft curls of pubic hair and glistened in pink lewdness, along with her pale alabaster breasts jutting in inviting splendor. She cupped her proudly ripened breasts with her hands and said: "Well, Tom? Aren't you going to join me?"
No, no, no! I can't hear any more! Tom fought his gathering passion with panic. It's wrong, wrong! No matter what Jill did… Gay's beautiful, andl ache for her physically, but it's wrong!
"I want to fuck you, Tom… fuck you like you've never been fucked before. Down on the floor, right here, me on my hands and knees, with you in back of me, fucking me dog-style, fucking me hard!"
On and on she went, and Tom's mind was a lather of drunkenness, anger, and swirling frenzy. Yet, he was transfixed and unable to protect his body from this seductively voluptuous siren as she moved back to him and slowly, mesmerically, unzipped his pants. They fell, pooling around his feet, and his thick, blood-enraged penis stood out at a forty-five degree angle from his loins, quivering, and seeping from its glans slit.
Oh God… it was too much! Perhaps he could have withstood the assault if she hadn't undressed him… but now he looked down upon his involuntarily hardened cock and he couldn't resist it any longer. Gay's lewd words in his brain, the sight of her beautifully naked cunt and his hotly aroused cock in throbbing erectness, the intolerable need and hunger in his body, and the churning scene of his unfaithful wife in his mind… he had to find release!
A small tortured cry rendered itself from him as he stepped out of his pants and flung himself at Gay. He dragged her to the bedroom, not caring for anything except this soft, warm, heavenly smelling woman pressed so nakedly to him. They fell onto the bed, their hands immediately beginning an impatient search for one another's private parts. Gay's searing fingertips closed over his hotly pulsating cock, and then she twisted up off the bed suddenly, crouching down on all fours, spreading her legs wide as her wetly glistening vaginal lips opened excitedly in flared abandonment.
Tom viewed her luscious, full rounded buttocks, and his balls ached with burgeoning semen. He glanced just once at Gay's moistly waiting cunt, and then he was down behind her, showering her nakedly trembling buttocks with kisses, smelling the exotic wafts of her excited secretions, and then he couldn't hold it any longer.
He moved over her back, trailing a wet path of saliva along her backbone, hearing her moan with ecstasy. His hands gripped her warmly naked buttocks, spreading them yet farther apart, and he pressed his bloated cock head against the deep, warm, channel between her full rounded globes. He moved his lust-hardened cock head up and down the fiery valley, feeling every wetly quivering inch of flesh and hair between her upper vaginal lips and her anal ring. Her gleaming white ass cheeks churned in desperate rotation, and an undeniable invitation.
"Oooooooohhhhhh, fuck meeeeeeee!" she wailed "Please fuck meeeeeeeeee!"
With a low groan Tom made on powerful, body jolting thrust forward, and drove his huge, rock hard penis into the soft yielding flesh of her vagina, rammed it home until her cervix hungrily closed against the smooth rubbery tip. He felt the elastic sheath of her wetly clasping cunt slip hotly around his long fleshy column, consuming it as he raced deep up into her belly, his sperm-laden balls slapping her ripely upturned buttocks, with a resounding, staccato sound.
He was gone, lost in a nether world of enchanting sensual bliss, in the wondrous cavern of Gay's wildly exciting cunt. He flexed his body and crashed into her time and time again, driving and lashing in almost brutalistic abandonment as he tried to rid himself of the twin devils: passion and anger.