He slipped off the edge of the desk as he kissed her, so that he was standing up too, and Melinda felt herself leaning against his limber wiry frame. Her first impulse had been to push him away, but her second impulse was to fold her arms around him, and her second impulse was by far the stranger. Dave embraced her too, both his arms encircling Melinda, and she felt one hand cupping her shoulder, the other planted just above the generous swell of her ass.
His mouth was hot and wet upon hers, his tongue sucking across her lips. In another moment she'd opened her lips and his tongue was inside, finding hers awaiting him in clever ambush. She hadn't been kissed this passionately in a long time – not since Neil had begun to play around, she realized – and a warmth began to spread through her body, a warmth that smoldered from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She pressed against him, wanting only to make that smoldering burst into flame.
"Mmmmm…" Melinda purred, as his lips ground upon hers, and she made her crotch do a little grinding, too, a sensuous bumping, pressing. Dave's hand slid lower, clutching one buttock, dragging her into him.
He wasn't a tall man. She had only to tip her head back slightly to make her mouth available, and her cunt was almost on a direct line with his loins. She worked her cunt on him, too, until she felt a response stirring inside his pants. A hard-on, she thought. He's hot and horny. He'd fuck me. If I would let him.
They came apart, and she stepped back, her eyes going down to examine the growing bugle in his pants. Even though she wasn't touching him now, he was still hardening as blood rushed down to engorge his pecker. A pleasant-looking bulge, she decided, her lips curling slightly.
He laughed, and she looked up. "You know," he said, "the main reason I got my private investigator's license? All those books and movies and TV shows. Bogart, mostly. Sam Spade. Philip Marlow. Figured I'd be solving murders and having women crawling all over me, just like Bogie or Joe Mannix or whoever. But I never put the make on a client before, Mrs. Stillman. I guess I never wanted to before. If I offended you, I'm sorry, but I'm glad as hell I did. You taste like fresh honey." Melinda rubbed her lips with the backs of her fingers. They tingled. So did she. Everywhere. Her tit felt heavier, swollen, the nipples itchy inside her brassiere. There was a wetness in her crotch, too, as if he'd already stabbed his cock into her pussy and filled it so full of his cream that the hot sticky stuff had no choice but to overflow her tight red-lipped gash and seep down the sleek creaminess of her thighs.
A breath caught in her throat and her head felt very light and dizzy. She started to take another step back, but somehow she lost her balance. At least it seemed that she was losing her balance. All she really knew was that suddenly her tits were nabbing Dave Hammett's chest and her lips were nibbling at his neck and if he liked the smell of female hair, he was in good shape because he had a face full of brunette locks tinged in auburn.
"Hey, lady," he said in a light, rather tense voice, but he had his hand on her ass again, and before Melinda could get her second wind she was rubbing him up and down with her body and his hands were stroking everything within reach, and that hard-on in his pants was getting birder by the moment, each pulse of fresh lust-carrying blood hammering on Melinda's flesh whore she kissed him with her crotch.
"Your husband ought to be shot," Dave whispered into her ear. "Unless you can't deliver."
"I can deliver," she promised. "Oh, God, can I deliver!" She reached between their bodies and her fingers caressed the swelling in his trousers. He moaned a little and pushed himself toward her hand. Somehow she managed to get his pants unzipped and her fingers inside, and it was worth the effort. His shorts were full of pecker, and soon her hand was full of pecker, too. "Mmmm," she cooed. "How about you, Mr. Hammett? Can you deliver? Because if you can't, I'm going to be very disappointed. Maybe I'll shoot you!"
He smiled. "I don't even have a gun."
"What's this?" she countered, squeezing his cock forcefully. "It feels like at lent a six-inch howitzer."
"You're close," he grinned, and his breath smelled very much of whiskey. "But you're guessing under."
"Mmm," she sighed, "then it'll be that much more pleasant a surprise. Oh, I'm not Lauren Bacall, but you're not exactly Bogart, either. Don't let that stand in the way. I need it more than you can imagine. Give it to inc. Huh?"
"Baby," he said, "I am gonna try."
First, however they had to get out of their clothes, and Dave had to lock his office door. "You never know," he said. When he returned to Melinda she was leaning against the desk, her hands cupping her breasts through the cloth of her sweater. Dave pushed her hands away, replacing them with his own, and he covered her tits with his palms. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Not too big, not too little. I think they're just right. And…" He pulled the sweater loose from her skirt and lifted it above the swell of her tits. She was wearing a sheer nylon bra, and he looked at the small dark nipples visible through the fabric. Melinda watched his eyes, saw the approval in them, and then she leaned back, tits lifting. Dave bent his head toward their twin thrusts and he began to lick her nipples and the sheer bra which covered them. Her tits were stiff and pointy against the nylon, and where they'd itched before, they now felt as if they'd been wrapped in poison ivy instead of clinging, caressing synthetic. Melinda began to hum and moan, wishing he'd get down to business. It had been such a long time since anyone had made love to her. But that was obviously about to change.
She pulled off the sweater while Dave played with her boobs, and then she removed her bra, her tits falling into sight, the flesh of them creamy with blue veins standing out in the milky curved skin, the dark nipples long and aching for affection. They were big tits, full and firm, the nipples pointing straight outward, and Dave filled his hands with them. Oh, Jesus God, Melinda thought, he made her feel so good when he squeezed her tits, when he flipped the nipples with his tongue, when he opened wide and chewed softly, provocatively on the ends of her breasts.
"Yessssss," she managed to moan, though it made her throat and chest ache with the need, the passion. "Your skirt," he said, and Melinda stood up so he could unbutton it. The skirt fell swirling to the floor and he cocked his head to one side. "Jesus," he said, "with legs like those, why do you wear skins below the knee?"
"It's fashion," she defended.
He stroked her thighs, and she began to sway on her feet. "Fuck fashion," smirked the detective. "Legs like these were meant to be seen."
"Speaking of fuck," Melinda put in. "I mean, Bogart did screw Bacall, didn't he?"
"If he didn't, I'm gonna find soothe hero." Dave hooked his thumbs in the wispy panties and tugged them down her legs. The stockings he left in place, and his eyes kept returning to them. So did his hands.
"Oh, damn it," Melinda gasped. She hopped onto the edge of the desk and sat with legs spread, pussy open. One of her hands thrust downward, into her crotch. She ran a fingertip across her slit, then parted the lips and fucked that finger into her cunt. Oh, Christ, she was wet and hot inside! "Come on!!!" she snapped. "If you'd been waiting as long as I have…"
"It's only been a minute," he countered, "and I'd like to get to know the territory."
"Well, for me, it's been six months?" Dave let go of her legs. "Six months?" He shook his head. "He hasn't done you in six fucking months? Oh, hell!"
He dropped to his knees and his head burrowed into her crotch. If Melinda hadn't jerked her finger from her pussy and pulled it away, he'd have bitten her.
He split the lips of her pussy with his fingers and almost as soon as the air touched Melinda's interior, she felt the flicking caress of Dave's tongue.
It went into her deeply, swiftly, and she moaned through chattering teeth, her lips almost numb with the excitement trembling in her body. Melinda opened her legs further and she clasped her bare breasts, squeezing them as they throbbed responsively. Her thighs undulated, especially when his medium-length, wiry hair brushed them while he worked, and it was an irresistible impulse, indeed, to bend her legs around Dave's head, to pull him into the eager maw of her snatch.
"My God," she whispered, "don't stopppp!!!" Melinda's emotions were already at boiling point. The very touch of his tongue was thrilling to her love-starved body, and it was so much more wonderful than the lonely masturbation with which she'd been forced to make do. "Oh, Jesus!" she cried.
His tongue was in her, snaking around wickedly, darting in and out of the cuntal opening. His fingers kept her splayed for Dave's oral attack, and the tips of his thumbs were nagging little goads at the base of her clitoris. He worked the sensitive flesh there while he licked the sensitive, responsive mouth of her twat, and occasionally his tongue shot northward to play provocatively upon the extended nub of her sex button. Each time he licked her there she moaned again, and her fingers squeezed at her tits and the upstanding nipples. Her breasts were hot and hard, throbbing, itching, and aching with the passion and desire that coursed through her neglected body.
Neil. She hated him. She despised him. How could he have deserted her bed for the pleasures of his barely pubescent mistress? God, did she compare so poorly to Kathy? Dave apparently didn't think so. His mouth was hungry and greedy, licking, tonguing, slurping, devouring her pussy, and already his lips and chin must be coated with the milky discharge of her cunt. She could feel juices flowing inside her body, feel them oozing to the mouth of her puss, and Dave's face groveled in those hot drippings. Oh, dear God, the sounds he made she packed on her! And the sounds her own mouth made, too! "Aaaaaaahhhhiieeeeeee!!!" Melinda wailed, her legs thrashing, tightening on his neck. Oh, God, she'd drown him in the musky creams of her cunt! She'd pull him into her pussy and feed him woman's cum till it was running out his Goddamned ears!
"Mmmmmmmmm," he crooned as his mouth continued to dine upon her gash. The hum of his voice vibrated throughout Melinda, up the channel to her ovaries, and from there, everywhere. She scarcely realized that her ass was bobbing up and down on the edge of the desk, that she was cunt-fucking his face with a vehemence, a blistering passion she had forgotten she was capable of displaying.
And through it all his tongue kept ramming up her cunt tube, so deeply it made her shiver, so expertly her creams flowed in ever-greater abundance, till the hair around her slit was sticky with her juice and his saliva. His thumbs kept pressuring the nub of her clit, too, until that tender organ ached from abuse but whimpered for more, more, more…
"Ohhh!" she wailed, hands sliding on her tits, now so sweat-greasy she could hardly hold onto them any longer. Her fingers fastened upon the nipples, which felt a mile long and hard as steel, and she squeezed, not caring if spurts of delirious sex-pain shot through her breasts and hammered into the base of her brain. "Suck meeee… suck me!!" she moaned, rocking her legs, making his face ram her pussy even as her pussy rammed to meet his face.
Somehow he fought his mouth free of her cunt, and she winced in sudden fear that he had decided to stop short. A massive orgasm lay just around the bend for Melinda. She could feel it. She could even smell it, in the heavy musk of the juices oozing from her snatch. "N-n-noooooo!!" she cried, hands leaving her tits, making for Dave's ears. "Do me some more! Do me some more, Goddamn it!"
He looked up, grinning, and it was as if he were peeling away the surface, looking beneath, at the real Melinda Stillman, the cunt-dominated creature whose needs he'd awakened. "Hey, baby," he told her, and his finger shot into her pussy, barreling deeply.
"Aaaagggghhhhh!!" Melinda yelped, arching to meet the thrust. Her head shot back and her eyes mapped shut, and it was so much more satisfying to have his finger poking in a cunt that had known satisfaction only from her own finger for so Goddamned, frustratingly long a time…
His fingers were bigger than hers, bigger, more filling, and when he added two more to the one already in her, it was nearly as sweet as being stuffed with a fat prick. Melinda twisted her ass on the edge of the desk, moving this way and that, wallowing his digits with her snapping cuntal muscles, milking them the way she'd milk a cock if she could ever get one inside her again.
"Fuck me," she groaned. "Fuck me with your cock, not your fingers. Oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
He kissed her clit while his fingers reamed her cunt, and it has a hot, wet, lingering kiss that seemed to stretch her tingly, aching nub, that sent piercing quivers of delight all through Melinda. She rocked and bounced, the polished mahogany desk heating beneath her ass, and she could feel warm sticky juices on her flesh, pouring from her pussy with vigor and abundance, more and more as he played with her, teased her, fingered her pussy toward the release that would come like an atomic blast when – if – it ever came.
She was almost numb with pulsating need. The only live portion of Melinda's body was the tube of her pussy, and every inch of that shivered and tingled with feeling. All her sensation had concentrated itself there, and the rest of her was only a vessel to contain, to sustain that intensity of emotion. Eyes still shut tightly, she fucked her pussy with his hand, determined to suck from his fingers every ounce of delight she could get.
Her heels bumped against the sides of the desk, and only then did she realize that she wasn't leg-locking Dave Hammett any longer. He was rising slowly to his feet, and she could feel his body lifting, though his fingers continued to ram and stab into her cunt. Melinda opened her eyes cautiously, frothy bubbles forming on her lips as saliva coated her breathing, and she saw that Dave was standing now, that he was using his free hand to undo the belt and zipper of his pants.
Out, into the light of day, he dragged it – his cock – oh, God, she thought, his cock! It was a beautiful specimen of the male organ, too, and nothing at all, really, like her husband's. Neil's organ was long and thick, fattest at its bulbous tip; Dave's prick was more reminiscent of a punch-tool – large at the base, tapering to a narrower point. About wren inches long, she estimated, though it was no time for sober analysis. All that counted was that Dave Hammett possessed a cock and, in a very few moments, her pussy too would possess that cock, even if only for, a short time. God grant it would be long enough to give her the satisfaction for which her entire body screamed madly.
"Yes," Melinda whispered, reaching boldly to touch his penis. Ooooh, Jesus, it was hot as fire, the skin of it slick coating for a bone-hard inner structure! She locked her fingers around the thick base, then slid them back toward herself, sliding lastly over the small but plush glands. Dave moaned as in fingers lingered there, squeezing, entreating, and he leaned into Melinda. The head of his dong touched the widely split mouth of her pussy, and she felt him already pushing, as if he meant to drive it up her right now, without any further ado.
"Nowwwww," she whispered, just as his face came down to kiss hers. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, felt him suck it, then withdrew and allowed him to reciprocate with his own. At the sac time, Melinda reached again, grabbing Dave's cock. He twisted, made himself fully available, and she planted his tip on the open gash. He thrust, but so did Melinda, and it was a mutual, dual effort that carried him into her churning cuntal sheet.
Oh, dear God, way they fit together!
Melinda swallowed him with sucking vaginal hiccups, and within a split second he was in her to the root, fucking like a wild man. She felt him bang his groin against her snatch five or six times in such rapid succession it was difficult to tell where one stroke ended and the next began, and his base ground against her swollen, wet pussy lips. The lowered tab of his zipper scratched slightly when he was fully immersed in her, but it was an interesting kind of scratch, one that made Melinda's pussy quiver and twitch and bang against him in a masochistic quest for more of the same. And she could feel a hug swollen pair of balls straining behind the tight fabric of Dave's pants, a pair of stones that promised her – that guaranteed her – the imminent, intoxicating prospect of a pussy shot floodtide full of hot sticky cum. Melinda moaned, and she raised her legs, locking them around Dave's body as he groined and fucked and fucked and groaned.
The shape of his prick acted as an extra turn-on. He could fuck deeply, while the thicker dimension of his cock base did marvelous, exciting things to the supersensitive shallow portion of her vagina the area nearest the mouth. And when he was in her to the root and rotating his body against hers, so that his dick moved in sexy semi-circles…!! She clamped her legs a little tighter, anchoring her heels just behind his knees, and she strained her pussy upward to meet his thrusts, to swallow his pecker gluttonously.
"Your husband ought to be hung up by his balls if he has any." Dave had her by the tits now, and it was obvious that he took strong delight in the way her lush boobs spilled over his clutching hands, the fly ha hot hard nipples burned into his palms. Melinda took equally strong delight and she wasn't shy about displaying it.
"The hell with my husband! What kind of balls do you have?"
Oh, Jesus, she was getting hotter and hotter! Her pussy was on fire, and her womb felt as if it had just upended. A groan caught in Melinda's throat and she thought she might choke on it. She coughed and moaned again, and her pussy moved with grater determination, savage in its need for climax.
"Oh fuck me hard and deep," she murmured, clutching him with arms, with legs, and, most passionately of all, with every inch and ounce of her sopping, sucking cunt.
"Try this," Dave panted, and he drove his prick into her with a fury that surpassed even his previous efforts. He thrust hard, burying his tool in her tunnel, and he quivered against her, soaking himself in the sticky musk of her juices, and Melinda gasped in appreciation. Her legs shot straight out, toes wiggling, and he moved again, slamming it up her once more.
Then he moaned "Chriiiiiisssstttttt…" for that last stroke had carried him beyond the limits of his endurance. He embraced Melinda, hands diving down to entrap her buttocks and lift her into the impalement of his prick, and then, moist bunts of air whooshed from his mouth as his cock began to empty itself inside Melinda's cunt.
She felt him coming, squirt after squirt of cum blasting from the tip of his pecker, deep in her snatch, and the feeling was fantastic. Each separate eruption jolted through Melinda, and she rocked about, savoring the seismic quivers. Warm liquids boiled in her belly, her heart skipped a telltale beat, and Melinda shrieked, "Oooohhhhhhhh – I'm cooommmmmmmmiiinnngggggg toooooooo!!!" She'd almost forgotten how it felt to erupt into orgasm with a hard cock spurting in her tight-snapping pussy, but as the incredible pleasure took charge of her body, Melinda remembered, and she was positive she'd never be so forgetful again. The mouth of her pussy was scraped nearly raw by the thick, wedging presence of Dave's cock, while hot cum flew in a non-stop river up the tube of her vagina, into the snapping maw of her uterus.
And her pussy reacted ecstatically, exploding in ripples and contractions that squeezed and tensed Dave's cock, sucking more and more cum from its eager tip. Oh, God, the way he shot his seed! His balls jerked inside his pants – she could feel them where he ground against her – and he fired off salvo after salvo of boiling man's milk. She could see his face paling till it was nearly as white as the juice he poured into her pussy, but still she could feel his cock going off, going off, going off, another volcanic eruption, another…
Cum flowed from her pussy where there was no extra room inside her for it to stay, and the hot stuff ran into the crack of her ass, collected on his pants where he still pressed her. Melinda screamed in a muted voice, a sob choking off the cries as if there was a limit even to the out pouring of delight, and she felt her body responding in kind to his orgasm. Her first climax spent itself and she rocked back, ass twitching on the desktop, only to find a second come bubbling in her loins.
Melinda cried, "Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!" and fucked at him, and the second come became a third, and a fourth, and though his cock had finally ceased to spit semen up her pussy, she continued to explode with uncontrollable tremors.
"Keep going baby," he grinned, "and I'll be ready to fuck you all over again."
His cock refused to soften, despite the massive amount of come he'd fucked into her. How could he go soft? Melinda's pussy was vibrantly alive, milking him, shuddering its convulsions up and down the fully-imbedded barrel of his tool, and the stimulation was too strong for Dave's organ to ignore. He groaned, as if the effort of staying erect pained the hell out of him, but he kept working his prick in her, too, and her multiple climaxes became even more multiple.
But it had to cease, eventually. And Melinda was dripping with sweat, her pussy a swamp of leaked-out cum and aching nerves, when the last rippling contraction flowed and ebbed.
She sank back, panting like a winded dog, and her head swam giddily. Dave had her by the shoulders, keeping her up, and his cock eased from her pussy. It was as if his prick realized that its job was complete for the moment. She looked down at the white-stained dick as it emerged, and she giggled like a schoolgirl to see it wilt in the open air. At tiny drip of cum formed on the tip of him as he diminished, and she watched as that droplet fell unheeded to the floor below. Melinda reached down to touch her pussy, but she pulled her fingers away almost immediately, for she ached so, sooooo much…
"But such a lovely aching," she cooed, offering him her mouth. His kiss intensified that ache, made it lovely, sweet, a pleasure beyond compare. His kiss took her breath away, and it was a winded, fully satiated Melinda who eased out of Dave Hammett's embrace. Her body was exhausted but fulfilled, and a warm, pink flush suffused her everywhere that counted. The juice of their mutual come was thick and sticky, coating the lips of Melinda's cunt, dripping lazily down the sleek insides of her thighs, and she rubbed a hand across that swampy sex jungle, puffing with delight at how sweet it felt to be stroking a pacified pussy.
Her legs were rubbery, the knees weak, and almost as soon as she sidled past Dave and stood up, she realized that the act was a trifle premature. She eased against him as he tucked his cock back inside his pants and it felt just as sweet to be braced by his male presence in the afterglow of fucking.
"That was insane," she told him breathlessly. "Absolutely insane. But I loved it. God, I needed it!"
Dave slipped his arm around her. A big brother might embrace a little sister in just that way – particularly if she'd only just finished slipping her a big chunk of meat and filling her little snatch with hot juicy cum. Melinda had never had a brother but now she knew how it would feel to have one, and she liked it. Incestuously.
"If that's any sample of what your husband is catting around on," Dave sighed, "he ought to have his balls cut off. With a dull, rusty-bladed knife. In fact, if I can find one…"
Melinda's face clouded. The act of screwing had been so pleasant, so all-engrossing after Neil's recent loss of interest, that many of the basic considerations had become obscured. At least temporarily. But now her head was clearing and she could see it all a little more sharply.
To begin, she bad just seen incontrovertible proof that her husband was keeping a mistress on the side, that his mistress was quite young, quite attractive, and quite responsive sexually – so much so that Neil had relegated his wife to the back burners of his mind. His affair had evidently been going on for the past half-year and he'd been lying to her in an effort to keep her from getting suspicious. That was unforgivable. Wasn't it?
But on the other hand she herself had just committed an act of adultery, the very first of her life. And with the man who had exposed Neil's duplicity to her. Oh God, what an act of adultery, too!! Her cunt still dripped a mixture of her cum and his, and she knew without looking that the lips of her pussy were red and inflamed from the dynamite cock that had been thrust into the churning, love-starved maw of her snatch. And the orgasms – she'd lost count before they stopped, but she couldn't recall ever coming so many times in rapid succession, so many that retaining consciousness had been nearly impossible. "Oh, my God, Dave," she said then. "What ant I going to do?"
"Do? About what?"
"About Neil. My husband. Remember him? God, the reason I came here in the first place…"
"You could always divorce him," Dave suggested. "That tape gives you enough pounds in this state. Or any other state in the union. Get a good lawyer, take him to court, and send him packing. And when you dump him, well… I mean, we click together. I knew we would as soon as I put my hands on you, and if you were mine, Melinda Stillman, I damn sure wouldn't drop you flat for the first hot young piece that twitched ass in my direction. I know a good thing when I stick my cock into it, and you're a damned good thing. If you were a free woman, I'd shack up with you… Christ, I think I'd marry you! I must be…"
"Very sweet," she said, kissing him. "But it's more complicated than that, Dave. Life always is. Yes, we, click, as you put it. But Neil and I have been married four years, and he and I used to click, too. I married him because I loved him and – despite the videotape you showed me, despite the rest of what you showed me – I'm not sure that I don't still love him."
"Low?"
"You don't fall out of it overnight, let alone in a single afternoon. Oh, damn it, I have to think, to talk it over with myself, to… talk it over with Neil, toe, for God's sake. I owe him that much."
Melinda straightened up. Her legs were stronger now, and she could stand unaided. Dave handed her the under things he'd stripped away and she eased into them as he watched. His eyes were bright, and it gave Melinda a kind of pleasure to see the interest, the appreciation with which he surveyed her half-clad body, the body he'd just finished fucking into a long-denied nirvana. Well, he'd copped her extramarital cherry, and she could never forget the excitement his cock and mouth had brought her. No matter what happened between her and Neil.
"Hem," she said, stopping, retrieving the check that had slipped to the floor when Dave was making his initial pass at her. "And thank you."
Dave shook his head solemnly. "I don't want your money," he announced. She forced the check into his fingers but he took it only to tear it into pieces, which he poured into a nearby ashtray alongside several cigarette butts. Melinda smiled. It was a sweet gesture. He was a sweet man. Probably a nice man. She doubted if he had Neil's duplicity in him but…
"I'd like to see you again," Dave added. "Soon."
"I can't promise anything. Not until I've cleared the air with Neil. Well, this is Friday. He's probably seeing Kathy after work, so I'll have till eight or nine to mange my thoughts." It would be a difficult night, she was already aware. But it had to be done. She had to tell him that she knew, that she didn't like what he was doing. And then?
And then it was all up to Neil. He couldn't keep on dividing his life between a wife and a mistress. She'd make that very elm to him, she'd demand that he come to a decision. Oh, God – four years of marriage, four years of love. Would he throw it all away for a piece of lithe blonde fluff? Or had he already done that? She'd never forget, as long as she lived, the way his lips moved on the soundless videotape when he told Kathy that he loved her.
If I were Susan Hayward in an old movie, she thought, I'd know what to do. If I were Bette Davis, I'd fight for my man. But this wasn't an old movie, and she was only Melinda Stillman, a lady who had been summarily rejected by her husband for another woman. Melinda Stillman, who had just been made fantastic love to by another man, as adulterous a connection as Neil's affair with pretty blonde Kathy.
"That makes it more difficult," she murmured as she got into the elevator. It had been exciting with Dave, being fucked as she sat on the edge of his desk, her pussy a sucking conduit for his cock and its boiling load of cum. Not even with Neil had she ever know precisely that kind of excitement.
Oh, she was still too worked up to think properly. First she ought to go home, take a nice hot bath, and have a nice cold drink. By the time Neil returned this evening she'd know what to say to him. Right now, all she knew was that she had to tell him something. Their relationship couldn't go on as it had gone, now that she knew what he was doing. God, she prayed, don't let me blow it! Show me the way! Help me get it straight!