It was late; he had worked much longer than usual chasing down a callused, habitual runaway girl who had chosen to violate her parole from the home after two weeks, and Jack Heath was closer to nodding off to sleep than his lovely wife had suspected. Nevertheless, he welcomed the stiff bourbon-soda she concocted for him while he loosened his tie and collar, stretching out in his favorite chair in their apartment living-room.
With head resting back against the chair, he watched his lovely, long-haired wife in her wispy, negligee-covered panties and bra gather herself into one corner of the sofa, feet tucked beneath her daintily, the tiny scintillating lights in her deep blue-eyes advising him that she was bursting to tell him something. He half-grinned over at her and said: "Okay, carrot-top, let's hear it before you explode."
Carol couldn't help but giggle as she brushed her strawberry-blonde tresses behind her shoulders and leaned forward eagerly; in the three years of their marriage she had never been able to hide from him her natural exuberance that choice excitement aroused in her. Lord, the lovable darling could read her like a book.
"All right," she said with enthusiasm, "and brace yourself, honey. I heard Max Keele talking to Judge McGraw on the phone today, and he mentioned the Spaxtons… something about their next meeting! So, we were right… the organization does exist and Max Keele is a member!"
"So…? Not to belittle your information, baby," her good-looking, tall husband replied after sipping at his drink, "but we were already fairly certain of that fact, weren't we…?"
"Fairly certain, but not positive, Jack," she reminded him. "Now, we are!"
He nodded; she was right there, of course. Prior to this, the so-called social club was little more than a rumor… an under-the-breath tale whispered in notable circles of power and influence, with elaborate tributaries of extra-curricular, sexual activities mentioned as a potent part of the club's secret ritual… not an offensive program to either of them. Her sensual little smile was contagious, and he couldn't contain his own in response.
"What else did you accidentally hear with those shell-like ears, Mrs. Heath?" he teased, drinking from the glass again.
She pouted cutely. "Not much, I'm afraid. There's to be a meeting soon, but I don't know when or where." She bolted from the davenport and went over to drop onto her knees between his spread legs, resting her chin on her clasped hands and looking up at him. "Oh… Mr. Keele chucked me under the chin rather suggestively as he was leaving the office, and I caught him looking at my legs a half-dozen times… if either of those incidents might interest you, my ambitious husband."
"Hmmmmmmm," he mumbled, letting his brow furrow intentionally. "Flitting your bottom around the place, I suspect… trying to drum up a little attention. Well, don't think you were the only one being scrutinized. The beautiful Madam Superintendent dropped by while you were out for coffee, and I was suggestively subjected to the once-over."
"Really? I didn't know," Carol said in surprise. "She is actually beautiful, isn't she?"
"Quite, and like the battery Eveready, I'd guess."
"God…" his wife whispered, her excitement obvious in her expression and tone. "Do… do you really think we can do it, Jack… I mean, get a bid to join? You know what it can mean for you… it isn't as if we haven't gone the swinging route before… and thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact, I miss the old gang terribly, don't you?"
Her tired young husband laughed, noting the sudden caressing movements of her hands along his thighs toward the hidden flaccid member inside his trousers. She had probably sat there all evening thinking about it, sipping at sherry, her favorite, and reliving erotic memories with mutual friends who had hated to see them leave the capitol, and imagining more exciting and productive visions to come if, and should, they be able to crack the Spaxtons barrier. After all, that had been their basic reason for migrating, hadn't it?
He reviewed her questions and said: "In the order they came, baby: yes, I believe we can get a bid… providing you continue to taunt big Max with that luscious ass of yours… and I do know what it can mean for me… for both of us, doll. As for the swinging route, I miss the old gang as much as you do… but Maggie Keele could help fill that void with very little effort on her part. Okay? Questions answered?"
"Pretty well… except I want to know if you miss Diane Hudson that much?" she put to him, pouting once more. "No more than you miss Jim, I'll wager."
"That much?" she taunted, letting her big-blue-eyes widen even more.
Jack couldn't help but laugh at her teasing. What a beautiful relationship they had… and to think at the onset, after less than a month, they had been damned near to going separate ways. The swapping had altered that, practically curing all of their problems with the exception of ambition… and now it looked very much as if they were going to resolve that situation.
Her hand caressing his stiffening cock inside his shorts, sent stimulating sensations tingling from his groin into his belly, while her enchanting eyes searched his, telegraphing their message of desire. Christ, he wished he wasn't so pooped… but then, on the other hand, maybe he could con her into doing all the work…? He sipped heavily at his drink, sensing his libido mounting after the latter invigorating idea…
"Why don't you just do some unzipping and get at the root of the problem, doll-baby?" he suggested with a licentious smirk. "Anything I can't stand is a miserable cock tease…"
He watched her shiver erotically while her eyes danced in lascivious delight, her luscious, white-rouged lips parting in contrast to the pink protruding tip of her tiny pink tongue, as she eagerly worked at his fly.
"I thought you'd never ask, husband!" she whispered lewdly…