Laura Saunders gazed out the large picture window of her new home in Park Palisades, California, watching the sizable breakers sweeping in off the sea to thrust themselves in a flash of frothy white spray against the gigantic rock formations that ran the entire length of the coast as far as the eye could see. In this section of California, with its starkly emergent coastline, the young wife had the constant feeling that the sea meant to destroy the land. Lord knew it tried hard enough. Every other day there was a report of some additional section of Highway 101 sliding into the ocean and being devoured in the water's bottomless depths.
Did this mean necessarily that everyone then promptly moved further inland in fear. No, of course not, she thought. People around here simply waited for their own house to go – occasionally with them in it. You just weren't anybody in California if your home wasn't occasionally washed into the sea or destroyed in a roaring forest fire. But they always came back, to build again, didn't they? Like lemmings moving resolutely toward destruction, in the exact same area. It was so beautiful here, though, with the sloping hills before windy, wave-broken, steep-cliffed terraces. So beautiful.
Laura sighed. She pushed her fingers into her long blonde hair and threw her head back and to one side as if to smooth out the waves of shimmering gold which ran all the way down her back to the sensual up-curve of her nicely rounded buttocks. In the Quaker home where Laura had been brought up, it was considered a rather serious moral offense for a girl to cut her hair. And consequently hers was as long as a young school girl's.
She smoothed her hands voluptuously over the flare of her well-rounded hips and thought about her new life in this community. Ever since she and her husband had come to Park Palisades there had been one distraction after another, what with Ralph setting up his new practice as one of the town's few physicians, and now being called out suddenly time after time. One's life really wasn't one's own, was it, although Ralph was certainly making good money and had had no difficulty acquiring this fine house for them right on the coast and not far from the forested glades of Big Sur. This stretch of highway from Monterey to San Luis Obispo must certainly be one of the most eye-pleasing areas in the world.
But somehow that wasn't quite enough.
Laura watched the white gulls circle among the rocks of the emerging coastline, and wondered why she felt so uneasy in such a beautiful setting. The stone seemed to be flowing – the sea, motionless. Where they met they locked in a pause more dynamic than motion. Beyond the white froth the surface of the ocean was an endless sheet of rippling glass. The rocks beyond its measured destructive force were like laws of nature – dark, jagged and forbidding. It was wonderful to be able to view nature like this, safe and warm within one's own cocoon – and yet what was missing?
When she watched the sea like this the often felt as if its adventure was being communicated to her in some ethereal way. She could feel it directly in her loins, up inside her full, highest breasts. Laura had been too well brought up to think of this as sensuality, but she did admit to herself that there was a feeling of excitement running in her blood when she watched the waves breaking like this. She couldn't explain it. It seemed merely as if these two vital life forces colliding together – stone and water – produced some sort of vibration inside her hypersensitive young flesh.
Laura turned away from the window. It wasn't good to submit oneself to too much of that, she thought. There were feelings building within her young body which could only be described as licentious, and she blushed as she considered the implications of her thoughts.
If she had smoked, she would have lit a cigarette. But her strict puritan father stayed her hand there, too. Illicit sex, cursing, cigarettes, coffee, liquor – they were all the work of the devil, he'd said it so often that Laura really felt she believed it. The fact that so many people succumbed to these vices only served to prove the hold that the Fallen One had on the people of the world.
"He walks among us," her father used to say, in any number of his many sermons, intoning sonorously through his bushy dark beard flecked with grey. "He walks among us and he takes our pulse, listens to our heartbeats. He is the Evil One who has fallen."
Laura had been as impressed as her eight brothers and sisters, she supposed, and in all of her twenty-one years she had never smoked a cigarette nor taken a drink of liquor. Her father's warnings had held up well.
And then she had met and married Ralph Saunders, a young man devoted to healing the sick and to making a lot of money, not necessarily in that same order.
Nonetheless Laura had married him, after a whirlwind courtship which had included more than a few attempts on his part to work his masculine will on virginal young flesh. Fortunately her earlier training had sustained her, and she had been able to fight him off just in time, before she became too winded to have any strength. She could remember very dearly the final night of their courtship, when Ralph had been especially demanding and determined to take advantage of her trusting innocence.
She blushed even now to think of it, and only wished that her thoughts wouldn't keep resuming somehow to such lascivious topics. But how could she forget that night – the night when a man had first managed to insinuate himself into the warmth of her sensuously aroused young pussy? Even though it had been only Ralph's finger which had entered her and nothing else.
Laura's nostrils dilated and she looked across the great length of their plushly carpeted living room to the large mirror on the opposite wall. She was wearing a pink chiffon robe which only negligently concealed her sumptuous young curves. Her breasts were full and widely spaced, like ripe white pears. Their uptilt was firm and gravity defying, their tops a gentle ski slope of glossy smooth flesh running into small outswelling areolas topped by strawberry-hued nipples which tended to stiffen embarrassingly easy.
For the rest of her, there were long thighs of soft alabaster flesh tapering into long slender begs, tiny ankles and perfectly fashioned feet. Above the rounded curve of her hour glass hips her waist seemed to disappear, only to flare out aged into a torso that ended in softly squared shoulders. Her face was a perfect oval with cupid's bow lips that had a sultry pout to them, and her complexion was flawless, her cheeks naturally rosy. When Laura fluttered her long dark eyelashes, any man could be forgiven for forgetting himself. Everything taken together, when her long blonde hair was falling softly around her pretty face and shoulders, the only word to describe Laura was breathtaking. She had the body of a wanton burdened by the mind of a puritan.
Her long and slender nail-polished fingers were pulling at the belt of her gown now, and then it was falling open to reveal the smooth expanse of milk-white skin passing from her throat, down between the swelling hillocks of her breasts to the tiny kiss-nook indentation of her navel, and finally ending in the sparse blonde pubic curls nestling over her subtly concealed vaginal slit.
Laura breathed deeply. She knew that by any measure she was a beautiful woman. But why, then, had the sexual side of her marriage failed so? What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she respond, even with the man who was her husband?
Or was Ralph asking for too much? Those lewd things he was always suggesting… it was enough to make any properly brought up girl cringe. But his suggestions were always phrased in such a joking manner… maybe he didn't really mean them?
She was confused. Who was in the wrong and who was in the right? She was no longer so sure as she had been. Was it Ralph's fault, for being some kind of pervert? Or was she too much of a prude as he seemed to be suggesting?
Lord knew she had never yet refused him. She was always willing – even just a trace eager, if the truth were known. And she always lay there obediently when he began, when he approached her between her outstretched legs with his rather dangerous-looking penis swinging upward and jerking lasciviously toward her helpless belly.
Laura shivered, and then blushed as she remembered how he had taken her the week before. He had made love to her so furiously, driving his long thick penis so hard into her wildly acquiescing pussy, that she almost reached a point – a point – in which she had felt she was enjoying herself more than any good girl should.
It was hard to describe the feelings that had assailed her aching loins. A sizable part of it had been so sweet that she was afraid she was going to die from it. A sunburst of pleasure had, seemed on the verge of arriving, but then had subsided as her husband suddenly came, emptying all of his hot wet sperm deep into her writhing young cunt. And then his penis had deflated so fast that she quickly lost interest, even though a moment before, she had thought she would go out of her mind if he didn't continue.
And that was the last time they had had sex. An entire week ago. Ralph seemed to be increasingly disinterested in sex, and more and more tied up at all hours at the new clinic downtown. Little wonder that she had been seeing so much of the Franklins, of late. In the evenings they were really the only people she had to turn to.
Mark and Cleonora Franklin were a beautiful and apparently wealthy couple living in a large stone house further south along the coast road by about two hundred yards. Living there alone with the largest and most dangerous-looking German shepherd Laura had ever seen. Rover was a big, sleek-furred animal with an intelligent face and huge canines that looked as if they could crunch a man in half with little trouble.
But he was also sweet, the sweetest dog Laura knew. Although she had been somewhat afraid of him at first, she had quickly come to rely upon his friendliness and warm personality. Rover often came over to her to lie down with his bushy head in her lap as she stroked her fingers around his large and steeply-pointed ears. He was an affectionate dog and she had never known him to bark or make the slightest untoward move to anyone, and yet to look at him you would think he was the most ferocious thing on two feet.
Laura sighed and went over to the telephone, her slender hand pausing momentarily on the receiver. Should she call Cleonora? She couldn't decide. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she spent a little too much time at the Franklins. But Ralph didn't seem to mind. Indeed it seemed as if he welcomed the fact that she had found a few friends in Park Palisades. He knew very well that she was lonely during the long hours that he was away at work.
And what friends they were, too. Mark and Cleonora had the most magnificent house she had ever seen. Even though it was basically stone, it rose on stilts right out of the very cliffside of the irregular Pacific coastline. Its views were out of this world, and in the evening when the light had gone down, and Cleonora had opened the drapes on the west side of the huge, high-ceilinged and elegantly beamed living room, the house became so relaxing, like a warm womb into which one could retire for a restful doze.
Mark and Cleonora were beautiful people in the sense that they seemed to do everything with such dash and style. She had never known anyone quite like them. When they wanted to go somewhere they were as likely to rent a helicopter as take the ordinary modes of transportation. They kept two big Cadillacs as well as a Rolls-Royce with a built-in bar and a telephone. They never seemed to lack for anything. They were maximum consumers, and bought whatever they wanted whenever they pleased.
She had never in her young life known anyone who lived like that. Her own home life had been fairly frugal, and Ralph had come from a modest background as well. And during his term in medical school money had not come easy. But now they were going to live a new kind of life. She had a car for herself – a new Mustang – and they didn't have to count pennies. Even as a new doctor still wet-behind-the-ears, Ralph made more money than many middle-aged executives who had worked all their lives to get where they were.
So they had money now; they didn't have to scrimp. And Laura could feel free to use part of that money to run a car so that she could spin over to Cleonora's whenever she felt like it.
And why shouldn't she?
She picked up the telephone receiver and began to dial.