CHAPTER FOUR

“It’s quarter to three. My husband will be home in less than ten minutes,” the naked woman on the bed said lazily.

Abby Farrington’s new lover jumped quickly from the bed and began to dress in the dark with the hurried precision of a man who has known many close calls with faceless husbands.

“Why did you tell me you were divorced?” the young man asked hurriedly.

“Never trust a woman,” Abby laughed and turned her sensuous back to him as he quickly left the room, checking all his belongings as he ran down the stairs to his parked car in the driveway. Abby didn’t know his name. She hadn’t even bothered to ask. Four hours ago she had been enjoying a party in Peter Lessing’s elegant home and the young man had sat beside her and showed a definite interest. Abby had given him some small talk and a wild hour in her bed, but she was still excited and not completely satisfied. No matter how hard she tried with so many other men, only her husband, George, satisfied her the way she wanted. The adulterous act of sleeping with men other than her own husband usually only increased the excitement of making love with him, and she used her other lovers only as preparation for each night’s orgiastic romp with George.

“That was a pretty wild getaway that guy made. He nearly knocked over the garbage cans!” George laughed as he came into the bedroom.

“He decided rather hurriedly to leave,” Abby said, smiling. “How did it go with you?”

George crossed the room like a man who had just won an election, and the sureness of his step showed Abby that she need not have asked. He slid open the closet and began undressing.

“It was easier than I thought,” he said carelessly. “She was hornier than I expected. We only spent an hour at the club, and by the time the dancers had finished, she was ready to go right then and there.”

“Well, don’t be so damn smug,” Abby laughed, sliding over on the bed to make room for him. “And come and tell Mama how you did it.”

George related the evening’s events to his wife, exaggerating a little. Abby was only slightly jealous, as she always was when he told her of his affairs, but she was also excited by his story and imagined herself writhing in the front seat of their car under her husband’s familiarly powerful thrusts.

“And what happened afterward?” she asked when he’d finished. “Is she going to tell Bill? Did you use the embezzlement?”

“Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart,” George reassured her. “I’ve done this so many times to so many sniveling little wives that it’s a repeat performance. We’ll have no trouble from her and soon you’ll be able to try Bill Wilson on for size. You’ll like that, won’t you?”

Abby turned her head into the pillow with mock embarrassment, not looking at her husband as he sat on the bed beside her.

“George, please,” she pleaded almost theatrically, “You always make it sound so dirty. Why is it that I’m always at fault when I’m with another man and you… you’re such a saint. There’s never anything wrong with your activities. Why am I always nothing but a whore?”

She faked a heart-rending sob, but no tears came to her eyes. Whenever the two of them had found other lovers for the night, they always repeated the same scene afterward. Neither was ever serious, but George enjoyed tormenting her and calling her names as much as she enjoyed the suffering at his hands. He played the roll of injured husband and she the role of the unfaithful wife: he would shout at her, call her names and she would respond to the whip of his tongue, each painful word a delightful slap at her buttocks. Even now, she could feel herself beginning to moisten between her nakedly splayed legs in obscene anticipation. Her golden brown nipples were already tautly erect, awaiting his touch and the kiss that she knew would come soon.

They had been married fifteen years and for nine of those years they had been taking other lovers and swapping partners with couples they met. Most of the couples would soon fall out of the arrangement and more than a few couples had ruined their married lives by contact with the Farringtons, but other people’s fate was not their concern. George and she were holding their own, Abby thought, and her body shifted on the bed as he changed positions.

“Whore,” he said quietly. “You’re just a whore with a gold band on your finger. You’ll never be anything but a whore. You’ve always been one and nothing you can do will change that.”

Abby loved the words. She had had many lovers before George, and scores since they had been married. But one thing kept them together: no man could please her as he did. No man was cruel enough, hard enough or could give her enough of what she needed.

Most of her one-shot lovers were only preludes to what George offered her. They were only tools to excite and stimulate her before she knew she would be taken by her husband when they finally got together. He would torment her and curse her, and when he finished with the insults, he would take her and give her what no other man could.

“Whore,” George said again, a lewd expression of mock anger and real humor on his face. “You’d take any man, any time, anywhere! How can you live with yourself!” His voice was stern, but Abby could detect the note of falseness in it. They were both good actors in this scene that took place at least three times a week, but never good enough to fool the other completely.

She braced herself for what she knew would come next. His slap was hard. A red mark rose on her buttocks where he hit her, and her whole bottom tingled from the sting.

“Oh, don’t,” she cried, knowing that he would do it again and excite her even further. The soft flesh of her silky smooth buttocks quivered like flaccid jello as he struck her again.

“You’d even go to bed with that brute, Jackson, if he came at you,” George said, his voice feigning a threat. Jackson was the personal valet of Peter Lessing, the man at whose house Abby had been earlier in the evening. Lessing was the most active member of Oak Park’s social register, and maintained around him some of the more obvious trappings of gentility: trappings which he felt were necessary to his social status. Jackson, his valet, had a hulking six-foot five inch frame that held two hundred sixty pounds of solid muscle, and very little brains. He was, the Farringtons had long ago concluded, nothing more than an animal.

“No, George, never him,” Abby squealed with pleasure. “He’s too big, he’d kill me!”

“Do you mean to say I’m not as big as he is? Haven’t I ever split you? Haven’t I hurt you like you think he would?”

“Oh, yes, my darling. But him, he’s a monster. I couldn’t take his hairy body on me.”

“What about Laura Wilson? Do you think she could take him?” George asked his wife, increasing her torment as he slapped her bottom again.

“Yes, yes, Laura. He could take Laura and we could watch. Oh, George, I’d like to watch that brute screw her until she screamed for mercy.”

“You would like to see her hurt, wouldn’t you?” Abby’s husband said quietly. “You would like her to beg him for mercy, just like you beg me – right?”

“Yes, please, oh, yes,” Abby cried as he slapped her reddened buttocks again.

“Then we will, you wait and see,” he said, and pulled at her body, turning her roughly on her back.

They stared at each other for a moment, Abby’s tear-filled eyes not once leaving her husband’s sadistic smile. They both would enjoy seeing the innocent Laura Wilson taken by that brute, Jackson, and Abby would get her revenge against this young girl, the kind of girl she had always had the fear might possibly take her husband away from her.

Abby had always feared that one of George’s partners might take him away from her, for she knew that if George ever found a woman that could please him more than she could, then their life together would be over. There was no hope that she herself could ever find a man who could do for her what he did. It was always the other girl’s fault, never George’s. His weakness was beautiful women, and Laura Wilson qualified as a temptress by being born beautiful. But she would pay and pay dearly, Abby thought with relish. She was sure Peter Lessing wouldn’t mind lending her the services of his huge, dim-witted valet.

George looked down at his naked wife, knowing without a doubt what she was thinking. He knew what he could conjure up in her jealous mind by mentioning the women that he had just finished with, and he knew as well that Abby always seemed to need revenge to reassure her position. As George gazed down into his wife’s eyes, she suddenly focused on him and realized that he knew what she was thinking. She laughed with some embarrassment.

“You’re looking at me very knowingly, darling,” she said.

“I was just wondering what evil schemes you have all cooked up for poor Laura Wilson, my little angel. She isn’t really a witch, you know. In fact, I think you might even like her.”

“I doubt it,” Abby said flatly.

“Hmm. Nobody who lays your husband escapes alive, is that it?” George laughed.

Abby lowered her eyes momentarily, trying to conceal her thoughts, and then realized it was useless. She and her husband knew each other, after their fifteen years of marriage, with almost frightening intimacy.

“Do you think we can get Peter… to let us use Jackson?” she said coyly.

“Well, I don’t know why not,” her husband answered her. “But I don’t know if that would be a very good idea. I mean, that Jackson really is a monster, you know. He could hurt her.”

“No, I don’t think anything like that could ever happen. Besides, I’ve never seen Jackson in action, have you?”

“No,” her husband said, “Peter always keeps him pretty well under wraps, so to speak.”

“Then let’s do it!” Abby said excitedly.

George looked at the almost childishly enthusiastic face of his wife, and laughed out loud. What the hell, if she wanted it. He certainly didn’t have any loyalties to Laura Wilson.

“All right, you can ask Peter about it. But don’t you think we ought to break the Wilsons in? I mean, you don’t take somebody to a party at the Lessings unless… you know.”

“Well, we already know Laura can be persuaded,” Abby said, “all we’ve got to do is make sure about Bill, and I can do that.”

“How?”

“Why don’t we invite the Wilsons up to the cottage this weekend. Bill will be back, and you can certainly force Laura to go along with it, with what you know. Then leave it to me. I’ll have Bill Wilson eating out of my hand in no time.”

“If I know you,” George said with a deadpan face, “it won’t be your hand he’ll be eating out of.”

They both laughed and George fell on top of her, nearly crushing her into the bed with his weight as he sought her mouth and covered it with his lips, kissing hard, sucking at her tongue which she’d plunged wetly between his teeth. Abby sucked hungrily at her husband’s lower lips, tracing the hard tip of her tongue against the insides of his mouth. Their love-making was ritual, but never boring, and it always seemed like the first time for her. The excitement of seeing him naked and aroused was almost enough to bring her to a climax in itself, and she always had to hold back for this man, bathing in the pleasure he gave her.

George’s hands caressed his aroused wife’s sides as he lifted himself and rearranged them on the bed, placing her head on the pillow. She felt him kissing her ear, nibbling softly at the tender lobe, then running his snaking tongue lightly down her alabaster neck, across her shoulders to the roundness of her hugely formed breasts. He toyed momentarily with her taut nipples, and she moaned and quivered beneath him as she felt his moist lips nip at the sensitively quivering buds. He had brought her to climax before just by sucking at her nipples, but she knew that he wanted more this time. She knew that his evening’s activities with Bill Wilson’s wife had only made him want her more.

She moaned as he kissed her smooth flat belly, her anticipation only heightening her already unbearable excitement. She knew that his lips were working their way down lower, and soon would be kissing the soft velvety fleece that curled around the waiting mouth of her hungrily yearning vagina.

As he caressed her with his lips, George slowly turned his body around so that his massively erect penis neared her head. He ran his exploring tongue to the top of her enticing vaginal slit, and parted the moist pink lips with his tongue, at the same time lifting one of his legs over her head and placing it on her other side. His huge cock and leaden testicles hung directly above her face, and she grasped his heavy male flesh with one hand and began to stroke it. The sensations that rose from between her shivering legs as he sucked her, shot all the way to her brain, and the softly moist sweetness of her aroused cunt was on fire. Each touch of his caressing tongue was like dry ice, its heat was so intense.

Abby moaned softly and brought her husband’s hardened cock closer to her lips, studying it carefully with her eyes. A small drop of clear liquid poised at the tiny slit-like opening under the bulbous blood-filled head, and she leaned forward and kissed the tip, brushing away the small drop of pre-cum as she did. Then she parted her fleshy lips farther, placing a small fraction of the large coronal rim of his throbbing cock against them, and gently teased her tongue into the tiny opening of his sensitive glans. Then she slid the whole head of his distended shaft of flesh into her soft warm mouth, and pulled the tender foreskin back tight again, teasing the exposed glans with the wetness of her lips. He moaned aloud, and Abby knew that she was pleasing him. Again she rocked her head slightly, stroking only his firm cock-head with her mouth, at the same time spreading her own legs farther apart to give him greater access to the warm moist cavern between her ivory-white thighs.

She could feel his tongue snaking hungrily up into her cuntal passageway, hard and searching, the tip playing with the erectly pulsating flesh at the entrance and rolling in small circles into the tiny hair-lined mouth. She, in turn, began to suck more of his rubbery blood-filled cock up into her mouth, sure to moisten the throbbing flesh with her saliva as she did. She could feel the huge veins throbbing with every beat of his lust-aroused pulse, and she sucked harder until half of his massive cock was thrust into her desperately sucking throat. No man could have more cock than her husband, she thought. In all her experience, she had never seen anyone as big. She held back her choking, and proceeded farther, more slowly, to get as much of his rock-hard male flesh into her hungry mouth as she possibly could.

She flexed the muscles in her tensing thighs, her attention to the pleasure of her burning body complete and unhindered. Every touch, every breath was a new sensation, and she needed no instruction to open her lips wider and firmly re-grasp the pulsing cock in her warm buttery mouth. She began to hum with the twitching shaft still sunk deep between her sucking checks.

George had expected the humming. He didn’t have to tell her what pleased him, as he had had to do with Laura earlier that night. Abby started humming up and down a scale of deep-throated notes, vibrating the muscles of her throat against the aching head of his throbbing cock. He ate her voraciously, the sweet smell and taste of her generously flowing excitement only making him want more of the delicious nectar. She writhed her undulating hips upward, trying to enclose him completely with the pink lips of her achingly wanton cunt.

“Please, George,” she begged. “Please, now.”

Her husband responded slowly at first, regretful to take his lips from the fiery meal he was enjoying between her widespread legs. But she released his burning cock from the moist warmth of her mouth, and with a growl, he suddenly turned around, held himself above her for a moment, and then, with the huge head of his massive cock already in position, slid himself along the short length between her aroused clitoris to the lewdly open target of her waiting cunt, where he slipped in, unheeded by any obstacle.

They fit each other perfectly. George’s desperately straining cock, already almost at the breaking point, found its place as if it were a hand slipping into a tailored glove. There was no room for error. Their bodies had been molded to perfection after years of making love to each other, and they began to move together in perfect unison. The ecstasy of the moment rose within Abby as her lewdly aroused husband stroked into her, his pleasure-giving cock caressing the smooth inner walls of her moistly lubricated vagina, the rubbery head finding its mark at her cervix and pummeling against it as he thrust deeper and deeper into her. The half dark room seemed to light up in strange colors to her, blinding, flashing, mingled with the electrifying shocks that shot through her madly spasming body to the seeming depths of her very loins. They were both ready, both already driven to the point of orgasm by their impassioned licking and sucking of each other. Abby could feel the rhythmic muscles of her abdomen begin to contract spasmodically.

“Oh, oh, ohhhhhh!” she panted, knowing she would be the first to cum. But she was wrong.

As if he had been struck by lightning, George jerked suddenly forward. Abby could feel his swollen balls burst with the fiery liquid that had been held back for this cataclysmic moment, and she screamed aloud as she felt his blazing sperm shoot deep into the hidden darkness of her dilated cunt, filling her with the warmth of desire that would culminate for her in a few distant seconds.

“I’m cumming,” she heard her husband gasp at her between breaths. “I’m cummmmmiiiinnnnggggg!” as the smooth jets of boiling sperm shot far up into her churning cuntal depths.

Abby arched her back, every muscle in her voluptuous body contracting as she rose up and fell to the side in an almost violent attack of contraction. Her sphincter began to clench and open like an angry fist, and her straining buttocks flexed to rock hardness as her orgasm hit.

“I-I, me too, my darling, I’m cummmmiiinnnggggggg, nowwwwwwww!” she screamed as the power of her body unleashed at the moment she had been waiting for all night. There was no time, no space, no motion in the world, only the unbelievable experience of her climax as she was hit again and again by the spasmodic twitching of every muscle in her body. Every fiber of her being seemed wrenched apart by the tremendous force of her exertion, destroyed and then remolded to the shape of this latest climactic passion. Slowly, ever so slowly, the sweat-soaked body of the completely exhausted woman ceased its reflexive spasming, gradually giving up the tension of her orgasm to the incredibly euphoric calmness of sexual satiation. She felt George pull his already deflated cock from the warmth of her sperm-filled vagina, and fall wearily on the bed beside her, sighing out his own satisfaction to the sudden stillness of their bedroom.

No one could ever approach him, Abby thought to herself. No one could ever even come close to satisfying her the way her husband could, and she knew it. If she should ever lose him.

With a slow about-face, her thoughts came to rest on Laura Wilson: young, beautiful, provocative Laura Wilson. She raised herself slightly on her elbow, and gazed into the closed eyes of her husband, as he began to fall to sleep. Could Laura Wilson be the one, she thought? Could this young girl finally be the one to tempt her husband away from her, to tempt him away with the pleasures of youth and innocence which, she knew, she herself had long ago surrendered? Gazing at George’s ruggedly handsome face, Abby wondered.

Not without a fight, she concluded with a determined smile. Not without one hell of a fight. And the first round of that fight she decided, might very well be the last round. It certainly would be if Peter Lessing’s valet, Jackson, lived up to his reputation. And even before she let Jackson loose on Laura, Abby knew that she would have a whole weekend to undermine Laura’s marriage at the vacation house. It certainly shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade Bill Wilson to join in a little extra-marital socializing.

Abby lay back down on the bed, her eyes closing over visions of what was in store for her potential rival. It was too good, she thought sleepily… Too sweet… First take the girl’s husband… Jackson take the girl… She didn’t have a chance… No chance at all…

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