"I don't know when I'll be home," Doug said impatiently into the phone. "No, don't bother keeping dinner for me. I'll grab a bite at the canteen!"
He listened patiently as Betty tried to question him further, but after a few moments, he interrupted her.
"Look, I've got to go now. I'll see you as soon as I can!" He said goodbye, and with a sigh of relief, hung up the phone.
He dreaded calling his wife these days, but at least it was better than facing her in person. He found that he was running out of excuses, and he could hardly imagine that she believed him when he continually said he was working overtime. But she seemed to, and apart from her persistent questioning, she never mentioned the matter.
Just time for a quick drink before I pick up Selma, he decided, and ordered a brandy. The last couple of weeks had flown by for him. Never before were his days so filled. He could hardly wait for work to be over so that he could see Selma. His entire life centered around her now, and he knew that she felt the same way about him. He had never met anyone like her before, and for the first time in several years, he felt like a complete man. Of course, he'd been worried after he lost his temper that time with Betty and fucked her in the ass. He'd tried to make up with her, but she refused to have anything to do with him, so he'd given up trying. Things had sort of reached an impasse between them now, and they maintained an uneasy truce, but they were far from reconciled. But Doug didn't really care. He had Selma, and that was the important thing for the moment. Things would work out with Betty, he was sure, and now that he was having a hell of a good time with Selma, he wasn't too worried. Besides, Betty seemed to have cheered up of late. It was almost as if she had some secret that was sustaining her. She had made oblique references on several occasions to "a change" that was coming, and a "surprise" that he, Doug, was in for, but he hadn't paid too much attention to that. She'd get over that business of the ass-fucking in time… maybe it was the best thing after all to just ignore her and go his own way. And when someone like Selma was at the end of that way, it sure made everything worthwhile…
Betty could hardly believe it when she answered the doorbell and found Harvey and Jean there. She thought for a moment she must be dreaming.
"Oh Harvey! And Jean! I'm so glad to see you," she said effusively, and really meant it. She was sure she'd never see or hear anything of them again. Countless times during the past two weeks, she had gone over the whole event in her brain, wondering if she had imagined that Peterson had said he'd get in touch with her. For the first few days, she had waited optimistically by the phone, confident that at any moment, she'd lift the phone and hear Harvey. But after a few days had passed, and he hadn't called, she began to grow doubtful. And along with the doubt, came regret… regret that she had allowed herself to be fooled into believing that anything would come out of it, and regret for having posed naked for the photographs.
As time wore on, and Harvey hadn't called, she worked herself up into a frenzy of worry, thinking that somehow Peterson might use the photographs against her, or worse still, have them printed in some magazine where Doug might see them. What would she do then? Things were looking very bleak, and were compounded by the fact that Doug was never at home any more. Betty just didn't have a clue where he spent his time, but he always seemed to be in a hurry, and was never home before midnight. She didn't really care too much, it was true, because things were definitely not right between them. But still, it wasn't right that he should leave her alone so much. He just didn't seem to care about her anymore and this knowledge did nothing to improve her state of mind.
However, just when the future seemed very gray, Harvey and Jean had turned up again almost miraculously.
Betty ushered Peterson and Jean into the livingroom, glad that this time, she was wearing an ordinary dress, and at least looked presentable.
"It's wonderful to see you again, Betty," Jean smiled warmly, as she sat down on the sofa. They both accepted Betty's offer of gin and tonics, and happily, Betty went over to the liquor cabinet and poured the drinks.
"I'm sorry for not getting in touch with you sooner," Harvey apologized, "but when you own and run an agency like I do, you're kept going pretty much all the time!"
"Yes, both of us are. Although I have other staff, Jean is my right hand gal! I don't know what I'd do without her," he said genuinely. "And now, I'm sure you'd like to hear about your shots!"
"Well, I was wondering what became of them," Betty admitted excitedly.
"The first rushes came through, and believe me, Betty," Harvey emphasized, "they were fabulous, just like I knew they'd be!"
"Have you got any of them with you?" Betty asked, and was disappointed to hear that he hadn't.
"Jean and I went over them, and picked out the ones we thought were the best, and gave them over to the photographer who works with us to print."
"Will I have a portfolio soon?" Betty queried with interest.
"Sure. It won't be long now, but to tell the truth, you won't have to make the rounds. Jean here was a photographer's rep at one time and she knows the game inside out. So with her pushing the photographer's angle and me, as your agent, pushing you, it won't be long before you're in demand."
"But I thought it might be fun to make the rounds, for a little while, at least," Betty said, disappointment evident in her voice.
"So it might, honey," Harvey said, "but a busy woman like you, with a husband and home to look after, can't spend all day tramping around, lugging that God-almighty satchel around with you and maybe at the end of it, getting only a call-back or two – if you're lucky!"
"But wouldn't clients prefer to see me in person?" she persisted, twirling her glass around in her hand.
"Sure, they would," Harvey agreed, "but believe me, the best way is to get them excited over your book first, and then see you in person. That way, they're bound to be sold on you!"
Betty didn't really understand Harvey's reasoning, but she decided not to question him further. She'd just accept his edicts without question. After all, he knew best, in this business anyway, and she was just a raw beginner.
"When do you think I'll go out on my first job?" she asked tentatively. Now that things were looking more definite, she decided she wouldn't tell Doug anything until she had come back from her first job, maybe even with her fee as well. She couldn't wait to see his reaction when she sprung that one on him.
"Well, you may have to go out on a couple of go-sees first," Harvey said cautiously. "You never can tell how things will happen. But one thing's for sure, it won't be long before you're in the swing of things!"
"I'd like to have some sort of idea, though, if I could," Betty said again, hating to push the subject, but wanting something more definite.
"You're right in wanting to be prepared," Harvey approved, and then turned to Jean.
"Run out to the car, will you honey, and get my 'Coming-Up' book?"
Jean hurried out to the car, but in a few moments, she was back.
"It's not there, Harvey!" she said worriedly.
"Goddamn it, I must have left it at Villiers' Studio. Now what am I going to do?"
"Don't worry, Harvey," Jean soothed, "I'll drive over there and get it!"
"I don't mean to put you to so much trouble," Betty said timidly, "It's all right, really. You can phone me and let me know!"
"No, I've gotta have that book," Harvey insisted, and shot a grateful look at his assistant. "I'd really appreciate it, Jean, honey!"
"I won't be long," Jean promised, and let herself out the front door.
"How about another drink?" Betty offered, breaking the long silence.
"Sure, as long as you'll join me," Harvey countered. Betty, shrugging her shoulders, agreed. She didn't really want it, but it wouldn't do any harm, especially as she had stopped taking brandy with her morning coffee.
She sat down beside Peterson on the sofa when she handed him his drink.
"Well, Betty, how do you feel about your new career?" he asked amiably looking directly into her eyes.
"It's wonderful," Betty assured him wholeheartedly. "It'll mean a new way of life for me!"
"And what does your husband think of all this?" Harvey queried.
"I… I haven't told him about it, yet," Betty admitted with embarrassment.
"Why not?" Harvey wondered, idly sipping his drink.
Betty didn't quite know what to say. She could make up something, like she wanted to surprise him, but she didn't think she'd sound convincing enough. Maybe the truth was the best thing.
"Well, we haven't been getting on too well of late," Betty said in a low voice. "In fact," she said in a rush of confidence, "we're barely on speaking terms. I hardly see him from one end of the week to the other. It's terrible…"
"Why, where does he spend his time?" Peterson asked.
"Oh, I don't know, working overtime, out with the boys, something like that. I suppose to avoid coming home!"
"What kind of husband is he anyway?" Harvey said briskly. "That's no way to treat a woman, especially a beautiful, desirable one like you!"
Betty didn't know what happened next; she only knew that she was suddenly crying helplessly. Something in Peterson's sympathetic words struck a chord deep within her an loosened the tight clutch she had on her emotions.
"Hey, what's the matter? Was it something I said?" Harvey asked solicitously, placing a paternal arm around her shoulder.
"No, it wasn't… I mean, yes…" she blubbered, leaning against his shoulder, finding relief in his consoling voice and comforting arm.
"Take it easy, honey…" he continued to soothe, stroking her as tenderly as if she was a child. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"
Peterson suppressed a secret smile. He had guessed that Betty had some kind of problem with her husband. Now, the way things are going, she'll play right into my hands…
"I can't…" Betty sobbed, "it's too terrible…"
"But it might help if you talk about it, honey…" Harvey said calmly. "These things have a way of working out if you bring them out in the open!"
"I know," Betty sniffed, "but I'm too embarrassed."
"It can't be as bad as all that," Harvey assured her, "and don't forget, I'm not exactly an adolescent!"
Betty considered his last remark. It was true that he was an older man, with probably a lot of experience of human problems, and he was also right when he said that things often looked better if discussed openly. But could she tell her secrets to an almost stranger?
"In fact, sometimes it's even better to tell your problems to a stranger," Harvey commented, as if he had read her mind. "Because a stranger has a totally different outlook and is not emotionally involved."
Betty suddenly felt that she couldn't battle on by herself any longer. She got absolutely no support from Doug and she felt tense and exhausted from the strain of trying to weather the storm alone.
"The whole problem is that we're not compatible!" she blurted, "sexually, that is!"
"Lots of young couples aren't at first," Harvey hedged, looking down at the lovely, troubled young wife.
"But we've been married for over two years, and things are just getting worse!"
"In what way, Betty?" Harvey queried helpfully.
"I… I just can't… don't seem to respond to Doug, that's all!"
"But you're not frigid, are you?"
Betty brushed aside her instinctive objection to such an intimate conversation with someone she hardly knew and went on vehemently.
"No, I'm not, but Doug says I am!"
"Well, then, maybe the problem lies with your husband…"
"With Doug?" Betty said incredulously.
"Yes, maybe he's not the right man for you!"
"But I love him!" Betty said emphatically.
"No, I don't mean that way. What I mean is," he went on carefully, "that maybe you need a different kind of man to arouse you!"
"Another man? But I couldn't…"
"Not even if it would help your marriage, and Doug?"
"No! It's wrong! I just couldn't…"
Betty was so absorbed in her conversation that she hardly noticed that Harvey's hand was still casually caressing her shoulder. In fact, it felt good, relaxing and soothing, so that when she did become aware of it, she didn't particularly want it to stop. But Harvey's conversation was getting disturbing. All this talk about another man made her uneasy, and she wanted to change the subject.
"Would you like another drink?" she asked at length.
"No, I'm fine. You just sit back and relax. You're all tense and nervous. Just close your eyes and forget about everything and in a little while you'll feel better."
Peterson's voice was almost hypnotic and Betty found herself lying back comfortably against his shoulder, her eyes closed, as she tried to blank all her problems out of her mind.
Harvey continued to reassure her, soothing her in gentle tones. He looked down at the still quivering redhead and felt desire welling up inside him. It looked like he'd have to go to a lot of trouble to get this one, but it would be worth it, he knew. He could barely restrain himself when he had seen her naked body that day he took the shots. She was far better than he'd envisioned. She was like a sculptured Goddess, only a living, breathing one. They all did – that was no surprise. But maybe he could really use her for Galaxy. She was definitely out of the ordinary, and maybe, after his plan had worked, he'd see if she was still interested in working.
Casually, his hand dropped lower still until it came into breathtaking contact with her palpitating breast. He sensed that her breath quickened for a moment when he touched her nipple through her dress, but she didn't say anything. He could feel the little bud hardening under his touch, burgeoning with obvious desire. Her whole breast seemed to strain against his palm, and lay warm and throbbing in his hand.
"Oh don't… Please, Harvey…" Betty mumbled half incoherently, but without making an attempt to stop him.
"Now just relax, honey, and don't worry about a thing," Harvey told her, his hand falling again to come to rest on the bare expanse of her thigh. He felt it quiver under his touch as he began to crawl with his fingers up along the sensitive, sleek surface, eventually slipping in under the hem of her dress.
"No, Harvey, please…" Betty objected again, and made a feeble attempt to stop the approaching hand. Her brain was reeling and she couldn't seem to get control of her senses. Harvey's hand was on her thigh, she knew, and it was also true that it felt good there. She wanted him to move it away, to leave her alone, but on the other hand, she didn't know how to stop him. If only she hadn't drunk the second gin… she told herself upbraidingly. But she had to make an effort to stop him before he went any further. It was wrong to let him do this, but it felt very good, relaxing and soothing…
Carefully, Harvey edged his fingers upward until at last they came into contact with the thin nylon crotchband of her panties. It was wet!
"Oh noo…" Betty moaned, making a futile effort to clamp her thighs together.
"Now honey," Harvey said again, "this is going to make you feel good. You'll really like it and it'll calm you down and you won't be nervous or tense anymore…"
Relentlessly, his searching fingers slipped under the narrow legband of her panties and came into tantalizing contact with the first straying wisps of curling pubic hair. Betty jerked back as if stung, her eyes flying open in horror.
"No, Harvey, please don't!" she shrieked, trying to pull away from him. But his fingers still clung between her moistened thighs as his arm, curved around her shoulder, restrained her.
"Now Betty, you like my fingers stroking your cunt, don't you?" he said, his voice low and husky. "Don't you? You can't deny it… or you would have stopped me before now… before I got my hand inside your panties!"
"No! I… I…" Betty whimpered, words failing her.
"I know you like it, Betty," he went on inexorably, "you're all hot and wet, I can feel it…"
A crimson blush spread over Betty's face. She did like it, there was no denying it. And now Harvey knew. He knew that she liked it. Oh dear God, what must he think of her?
"It's only natural, honey," Harvey went on. "You're starved for love. Doug has been neglecting you and it's time someone paid some attention to your beautiful, deprived body…"
Betty couldn't stand it any longer. She was past fighting. She felt defeated already defeated by Harvey's smooth words, which were all too true, and by the tumult which was raging in her body. Yes, her own flesh was mutinying – crying out for love and attention. And she couldn't fight it!
Harvey sensed her inner struggle and felt a surge of victory. It won't be long now, he told himself cheerfully, but I just hope that Jean won't come back too soon and spoil it all! It had been Jean's idea in the first place to pretend that the book was lost, so as to have an excuse to leave him alone with Betty, but Harvey was afraid that she wouldn't realize how hard it was to win over the frustrated young wife. Well, he'd just have to take a chance…
His questing fingers inched forward another millimeter and came into exhilarating contact with the pulsating outer folds of her tremulous pussy. He could feel the slight throbbing of the swollen outer lips, fringed with a thin line of hairs, and then, without hesitation, he plunged his middle finger up into the moist darkness of her unresisting cunt.
"Aaaaagggghh… Nooooo…" Betty sobbed helplessly, wriggling her buttocks in a frantic but belated attempt to resist.
She was in a daze that she couldn't break out of. With one part of her mind, she realized that Peterson was stroking and caressing her vagina, but with the other she realized nothing but the fact that he was comforting her when she badly needed it, and offering solace where Doug had failed to do so. And she couldn't refuse that. She needed it too badly.
Harvey continued to probe the quivering wet folds and creases of her sensitively squirming vagina, plunging deeper into the warm, open flesh. Her thighs spread now a little of their own accord and he began to ease down her confining panties, leaving them dangling above her knees. Her dress was bunched up above her hips, leaving the tingling plane of her loins exposed and unprotected. Ruthlessly, his fingers played in the velvety softness of her openly spread cunt, making her gyrate and twist with mingled feelings.
Suddenly, his middle finger came into contact with the hard little knob of her clitoris and began instantly to titillate the erogenous little bud.
"Ooooohhhh…" Betty sighed, unable to believe that little wisps of pleasure were curling around deep inside her. She was beginning to enjoy Peterson's lewd fingering! At first, she didn't believe it possible, but her writhing moaning body was ample evidence. Her brain, with all its feeble, warning messages was totally ignored, and sensual rule was the order.
"Mmmmmmnnnn… aaaaahhhh…" she gasped again, giving herself over completely to a greater power. She was devoid of resistance now. She had no option but to acquiesce, and it was obvious that her body did not mind this submission. Involuntarily, her pelvis began to grind rhythmically up against his nakedly swirling fingers, forcing the desire-ridden flesh against the pleasure-giving digits.
Harvey's fingers, darting and flicking with expert agility began to tickle gently at the tiny fluted inner lips which surrounded the pulsing, star-shaped entrance to her helplessly aroused body. Betty mewled with new excitement as they brushed tantalizingly against the delicate, fragile flesh, and then, with sudden abruptness, he plunged them into the wet, clinging cuntal sheath.
"Aaaaaggggghhhhh…" Betty sobbed in mingled surprise and pleasure, and immediately, the soft, tender inner walls began to milk voraciously at the dipping fingers, closing in on them like a velvet glove. Harvey worked his fingers smoothly, expertly in and out of the hungrily welcoming channel in simulation of fucking, filling the room with lewd, wet, sluicing sounds.
Betty was like a madwoman now, twisting and flailing wantonly on the sofa, her thighs lasciviously splayed, her softly rounded buttocks grinding incessantly into the yielding cushions. Hoarse cries of lust escaped her lips, but Betty was beyond caring. She knew that Jean might return at any moment, but it was of no importance. All that mattered was the unbelievable spasms of pleasure which were shooting through her with lightning speed, emanating from the fiery, tingling zone of her wildly excited vagina.
Harvey's fingers were wonderful givers of unbelievable pleasure as they plunged recklessly into the openly presented mouth to her defenseless belly. Urged on by the rising tide of her passion, she pounded her turgid little clitoris against his hand while at the same time trying to coax the driving fingers further and deeper into her greedily clasping cuntal sheath.
She was near to climaxing and she knew that she couldn't hold out much longer. Pleasure, in maximum force, was building up to such a pitch inside her that she knew she must cum soon or explode. And, at last…
"Oh God! I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh God, I'm cumming!" she chanted insanely, her body flailing and thrashing out of all control as wave after wave of undefinable pleasure washed over her like breakers on a beach, tossing and tumbling her in their foaming wake as they brought her to new heights of ecstasy each time. She had never experienced anything like the tremendous power of this release and all her tension seemed to pour from her body, leaving it limp and exhausted, only to be tightened as a new flood of pleasure cascaded over her. Her head seemed to be going round and round and she felt as if she was in some kind of limbo, waiting to be put back together again with the body which was feeling so much sensual excitement.
Finally, the tremors began to subside, leaving her quivering and trembling like an aspen leaf. The room began to spin around her and she gratefully sank back on the sofa, only vaguely aware that Harvey was leaving. She wanted to call him back, but she didn't quite know why, but in a few seconds, he was gone, and she was left alone with the dying embers of her fiery orgasm.