"What?" gasped Jan. She knew that Lois' husband was in his fifties, but he was such a robust man.
"That's right," Lois smiled. "George has completely lost any desire or need for sex."
"I can't believe that."
"Well, it's true," Lois replied, getting up and pouring them another cup of coffee.
"How can you stand it?" asked Jan.
"I have lovers," was the woman's direct reply.
"You don't!" Jan gasped. "I don't believe you."
"It's true, honey," her friend replied. "I enjoy affairs that no one knows anything about."
"But, how could you?" gasped the startled young girl. "That's wrong."
"By most people's standards, yes," the woman continued. "But I'd be climbing the walls if I didn't have an occasional sexual release."
Jan just stared at her friend, unable to believe that Lois would be unfaithful to her husband.
"Me you suggesting that I take on a lover?" Jan suddenly asked.
"God, no!" Lois gasped. "That's the last thing I'd suggest. The problem between Ted and you can be worked out between yourselves, but my case is hopeless."
"Does your husband know?" Jan asked.
"He probably suspects," Lois continued, "but under the circumstances he never questions me."
"Do you really think that Ted and I can work out our problem?" asked Jan, a trace of hope in her voice.
"Certainly," smiled her friend. "You should consult a good doctor together, and I'm certain he'll be able to help you."
The subject of their sex lives was dropped and the conversation turned to chatter of a lighter nature. Jan felt much more relaxed as she drove home after a light lunch.
When she was only a few blocks from home, her car began to sputter, and then it stopped completely. Getting out and lifting the hood, she peered in at the engine, although she knew nothing about cars.
Within a few moments, a pickup truck stopped, and a stocky young man carrying a can of beer walked over to her.
"What's the trouble?" asked the dark-haired boy, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans.
"I don't know," she smiled, happy that someone had stopped.
After first surveying her smooth shapely legs beneath her white shorts, the boy looked in at the engine. Getting into her car, he turned the ignition, but nothing happened.
"Have you any idea what it is?" Jan asked.
"I think it's in the wiring," the swarthy young man answered, sauntering back to his pickup. Tossing the empty beer can into the cluttered bed of the truck, he returned with a fresh beer.
"D'you have far to go?" he asked Jan.
"Just a few blocks," she replied.
"Well," he continued after taking a big gulp of beer. "I think I can fix it to get you that far."
Taking the aluminum tab from the can, he twisted it around the ends of two wires.
"Now try it," he suggested, holding the door open for the girl.
Turning the key, she was relieved to hear the engine spring to life.
"I'll follow you in case it stops," he said, draining the can with a big gulp.
Jan was filled with relief as she turned her car into the driveway. When she got out, she saw the battered pickup stop at the curb.
"What do I owe you?" she smiled as he walked across the lawn toward her.
"Gotta cold beer?" the young man grinned. "Sure," Jan giggled, "come on in." He couldn't take his eyes from her tight little ass as he followed her through the door. Sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, he quickly gulped down the beer that she'd offered him.
"Another one?" she asked politely. "Sure," he slurred.
This was the first time that Jan had realized the man was half-drunk.
"What's your name?" she casually inquired. "Tony," he replied.
"Tony what?" asked Jan.
"Just Tony," he slurred in a thick voice. "What's yours?"
"Jan Wilson," she answered nervously, realizing that the young man was quite drunk.
"Any relation to Ted Wilson, the architect?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered proudly. "He's my husband. Do you know him?"
"Not really," he laughed, taking another sip of beer. "I work in construction, and I've seen the prick walking around the sites in his fancy clothes."
"That's not the way to talk!" she snapped. "Shit," he chuckled, walking over the fridge and helping himself to another beer. "Us guys do all the Goddamned work while dudes like Wilson live in these fancy houses with cute little cunts like you for wives."
"Will you please get out of here!" she gasped. "Sure," he slurred, "if you'll let me kiss you good-bye."
"No!" she shouted. "Get the hell out of here!"
"Not 'til I've kissed the fuckin' architect's fancy little wife."
"You filthy bastard," she gasped. "Get out!"