It rarely happened, but on occasion Jay Robert Durke, novelist, hit a stumbling block in his work. These snags were not necessarily the same as might befall a writer in some other field, the big, bearded man realized, but they were his particular plaque. After all, just how many sensual scenes could one describe without being repetitious? Not that his lust imagination fell short in the erotic department, but there were times when even he couldn't catch the feel of a needed, sexy sequence, especially if Sara Wilson wasn't out in her yard pruning or weeding in her next-to-nothing bikini to inspire him.
In the absence of their vivacious, raven-haired young neighbor's stimulating curves to fire him, the prolific author usually resorted to his "research" file, a locked metal drawer filled with obscene photos and literature of the rankest intensity. There was a certain drawback to this method, however, for once involved in his research department, he invariably found himself lusting like a goat, with mental visions of Sara Wilson passionately begging him to act out the particular picture with her. He had never stopped to estimate the time lost to these lecherous musings, convinced that though non-profitable, it was time well spent. They not only worked him into the proper frame of mind for creating, but they did hellish fine things for his restless ego.
To Jay Durke, Sara was the epitome of a profoundly sensual woman. Not that his own Beth didn't have all the physical qualifications, even more so than Sara… Christ, there was a girl with a body that wouldn't quit… but what good was that if you didn't know how to use it…? And there was no doubt in his mind but what Stan Wilson's luscious little honeypot would be a wildcat in bed! Of course, there was always the chance that the old shoe salesman didn't know the first thing about getting the most out of her, which was usually the trouble with those Greek-God types, and maybe that was why she liked to get out in the yard and do her thing for him in that Goddamned tantalizing bikini of hers.
In his lifetime, he'd never seen a doll squirm and squat into such hot-nuts positions as she could manage right there in her front yard. Maybe she didn't have the quantity of voluptuous curves which Beth owned, but they were damned sure of the same quality. Shit, he could almost feel the firm smoothness of her softly rounded tit right in his hot hand, and she had one of the most inviting, tightest-looking little asses swelling out that yellow bikini bottom he'd ever laid eyes on. But getting at it… her… was a horse of another color.
Sure as hell, the big, bearded writer was convinced, she wasn't out there every day displaying her wares without something in mind. She damned sure wasn't doing it for Beth's or Vickie Davis' sake, and there was no one else around to see her but him! And those ball-tingling, lewd stances she strained to get into, bending over straight-legged with her tautly ovalled ass cheeks smack dab facing his study window, the shadow of their separating crevice faintly visible to him through the tight, thin material! Or stooped and faced him until her white young tits nearly popped out of their wispy halter! But best of all was the squat, with knees widespread so that he could actually see the outline of her puffy little cunt all snug and mouth watering up there between her shapely legs, even without his field glasses! What the hell, there was no doubt about it, the impish little bitch was actually giving him the old come on!
It figured in Jay's thinking, as he sat behind his desk watching through the window into her front yard, that old Stan didn't have the wherewithal to take care of his little hot-assed petunia, but there just happened to be a stud in the neighborhood who could… namely Jay Durke! He grinned in lustful confidence to himself! About three-fourths of his long, thick cock buried between those soft thighs ought to do the job right to perfection for her, as Beth could well tell her, except those things just weren't done outside the realm of his novels. Now, he sniggered under his breath. There'd been a reason for his escorting of Beth on her shoe shopping tour yesterday. Once he'd learned she was going to Wilson's, the possibility that he might break the ice between them and get things on a little more neighborly basis, had occurred to him, and he felt certain it'd worked.
Hell, and why wouldn't it? Everybody liked to brag about knowing a selling author by first name. Jay supposed it gave the poor slobs an elated feeling of contact with the creative and celebrity world, which was okay with him. He was no puffed up swell head just because he'd tasted success! He knew what it was to be just an ordinary, everyday grinder like Wilson, and unless he missed his guess, his neighbor would be knocking himself out shortly to invite Beth and him to dinner or something. That, of course, had been, and was, exactly what he was counting on to get next to sweet-assed little Sara. He just hoped she'd use her head and play it cool in front of Beth. His possessive blonde wife might not take kindly to the raven-haired minx making a play for her lover-man. Nothing was worth lousing it up between Beth and him; she was a real baby-doll, and he knew she was nuts over him, just as he was all gone on her.
If only she could get a little more with it in the old sack? Oh, she always got hot enough at the kickoff, but he knew without asking her that she couldn't cum, which was nothing but failing to throw her beautiful ass into it full-fledged. But if that's the way she wanted it, he wasn't going to complain. The luscious creature had everything else in the world going for her, and he knew what his offered security meant to her. Hell, she'd latched onto him in Chicago like a preying tigress, letting him know how it was with her by spreading those pretty legs the very first night. Christ, how she'd whimpered and squirmed, and how he'd socked the old cock to her… until she'd just lain there half crying and laughing when it was over, she was so happy. Well, that's the way it should be right from the beginning, the way he always told it in his stories, and he could damned well remember how jubilant he'd been just to see her sincere happiness, after twenty five years of paying to bed apple eating whores.
It occurred to the big man, then, how she'd come on the other night! Christ, he'd almost forgotten about that! She'd said something about wanting to suck it, hadn't she? Sure as hell had! He'd poured away plenty of booze, he recalled, but hell, he knew he hadn't been drunk! Goddamn, she'd said it all right… wanted to suck him off! Well now, he was just going to cultivate that program right soon, he lustfully decided, feeling the immediate responsive swelling of his long heavy penis. Maybe that's what she needed to really turn her on, and Goddamn, he was all for it…!
Sara Wilson's sudden appearance in her wispy, yellow bikini and pony tailed black hair shattered his thoughts like the on-stage entrance of a bottomless go-go girl! Well, she was right on time, he rousingly thought, checking his watch. Ten-thirty. "Okay, Sara baby, go into your act," he whispered to himself under his breath. "And don't get impatient, 'cause old Jay's going to fill your needs real soon, honey… like you never even dreamed of…"
In the kitchen of their under-built, rented home in what might be termed as a semi-exclusive neighborhood, Beth Durke moved about performing her housekeeping duties, essential tasks that fell to her before she could position herself in front of the typewriter. She sang the words of a popular release in a clear, throaty voice, sang them softly as if to herself, with sultry green eyes aglow and the traces of a secret smile sensually playing over her stunningly beautiful face. She wore a tiny apron over a shortie, lime-green shift she'd had for ages, but with brassiere beneath this morning. Her reason for aroused excitement of mood came twofold, perhaps, two and one-half fold. Number one: she'd watched Stan Wilson wheel off to his store a short time before and caught him, once inside the concealing protection of his garage, straining his eyes toward her house! Something on his part was bound to happen soon; she felt certain of it! And she'd made up her mind that she could wait! It was going to be worth it, she knew, and after all, she'd already waited twenty-six years!
Number two: the waiting period was not going to be one of hunger, anyway! She now had the enchanting young masculine beauty of Jerry Adams at hand, available, she was certain, at the slightest indication on her part, and he was the most lovable lamb in the world! Except, next time, she intended to further his manly education another way! And lastly, the one-half: Jay had been too drunk the night before to pump enough blood into his loins to get his huge penis up and keep it there! She'd been ready for him though, still convinced that if he and "it" became numb enough, myriad of erotic sensations could happen to her, but the old lover-man had just gradually faded away beneath the veil of his consumed liquor, finally snoring, and she'd covered him, kissed him goodnight, then fallen into her private passionate thoughts.
They had been that, all right, so much so that the tremendous urge to satisfy them had been almost unbearable. Once, she'd nearly awakened Jay to try again, but his snoring advised her that would be useless… and at last, she'd slept. Even so, it'd hardly been much different upon awakening this morning! The tiny imps with their sensuous forks were still alive in her soft belly and hungry young loins. Her handsome Stan Wilson's avid staring at their house had added more coals, while the mere thought of youthful Jerry Adams' naked young body had been the final stimulator.
God, she was all damp as usual between her legs! The narrow, thin strip of nylon snugly caressing her there was saturated with the hot moisture seeping from between her pussy-lips! She'd have to change her panties…!
The scratching against the screen of the back door marred her thoughts. It was Lancer, of course, she knew without looking. Vickie Davis' huge German Shepherd whose habit it was to come begging every morning about this time. Not that the animal didn't get enough to eat at home; Beth was sure he did, the way his beautiful young mistress looked after him, but he was still just a dog and this was his thing.
"Hello, darling," she said with a radiant smile, opening the door for the whimpering beast to enter. "Hungry? Come over to see Beth for something to eat?"
He agilely raised to his hind legs, pressing his soft paws against the full tips of her breasts. She caught at his forepaws, a little shiver passing through her voluptuous young body at the erogenous contact her thought veins had enhanced. The big handsome animal licked out at her face and she reactively drew it back away from him with a smile. He whimpered and Beth said, "I think I have something for you, darling! A nice big bone with the remainder of the ham we left on it last Sunday." Then, more to herself than the animal which waited with wagging tail, she opened the refrigerator and stooped down to bring the platter out: "We'll never eat it… ham shouldn't be kept this long, anyway…!"
What happened next gave her such an unexpected and truly wild start that the astonished young wife couldn't move! She was still bent over fishing inside the refrigerator when she felt the unmistakable cold wetness of Lancer's nose high on the nakedly sensitive flesh of her inner right thigh! Why she didn't bolt upright in shock or fear, she could only lay to the prurient incitement which had been hotly smoldering within her! Instead, she continued to stoop there, knowing the huge dog's powerful head was beneath her skirt from behind, nosily sniffing… and then came the hot, pressured lap of an unmistakable tongue against the moistened nylon strip of her sheer panties hugging her seeping vaginal lips!
God, he'd sensed her heat!
Had to, what else? Again, the beautiful animal did it, drawing its long, hot tongue between her legs against the protected flushed lips of her cuntal crevice! Beth raised up slowly… raised up only because she couldn't stay in that position all day! She held the ham bone in her hand as she turned to look down upon the great dog who was staring up at her with wide brown eyes, erect ears, open mouth and wagging tail.
"You handsome devil!" she half hissed, all the erotically arousing sensations she'd so proudly kept under control suddenly pouring like molten steel into her soft, young belly and loins. "You're a Goddamned lecher, like all males, except you're more handsome than most! I never would've believed it… but I'm not about to deny it either, Lancer lover!"
Beth moved toward the pantry as if she were being satanically propelled. She held the bone up so that the powerful dog could see and follow, wicked thoughts she'd never before even conceived of filling her mind!
"Come on, baby… in here with Beth!" she whispered, consciously, as if someone were standing close, eavesdropping! "Come on… that's the boy… and you can have your bone… after! After, darling! Look! Come here, look what Beth has for you…!"
God, it was salaciously forbidden, but she was doing it! Standing there in the pantry with the door near-closed, spread-legged, the short skirt of her shift luridly raised and her small hand tugging to one side the narrow strip of her wet nylon panties so that her hair-fringed, moistly throbbing pussy was exposed to the brute!
"Come on, Lancer baby! Do it! Lick it, darling… like, I'll bet my life, that you lick Vickie's!"
Beth watched the mighty dog move forward, as if trained, toward her exposed wet cunt! Unbelievable sensations of frenetic excitement soared through her in the animalistic depravity of her act. My God, this was beyond obscenity, the blonde young wife thought, tugging even further to one side the sheer strip of her damp nylon panties to better expose her hotly throbbing pussy before the approaching German Shepherd! Would he…? Would he…?
He did!
The brute's long and thick wet animal tongue splurted out, curling at the tip as it caught between the feverish lips of her pouting pussy, laving the very mouth of her vagina and splaying open the blonde, hair-fringed folds as it drew upward between them, ending and twisting at the very delicate tip of her already quivering, tiny clitoris! But he didn't stop there! Again and again without egging, the massive dog repeated its hot caresses, raising gasps of panting lust from the young blonde wife as she stood there with trembling legs spread out wide, her loins lewdly thrust forward, her little hand holding the tiny wisp of her nylon panties to one side for the brute's delicious licking of her cunt!
"Oh… oh God, do it, Lancer lover! Lick it!" she hissed, holding the bone high in one hand and her tiny panties away from her steaming, blonde-curled pussy with the other. "Yes… lick it, sweetheart… Beth'll cum in a minute! Ohhhhh… you beautiful lover, you…! Do it… faster, baby… then, you can have your bone! Oh God, darling… lick… lick… lick…!"
At last, the sound penetrated… a knocking against the back door… persistent, but never loud! For a long moment, Beth didn't move, couldn't in her forbidden ecstasy, but the knocking wouldn't go away and finally, realization dawned upon her. She had to answer it before Jay heard and pounded out to learn why she didn't! Oh God… just a minute or two longer! Oooohhhh…! Damn! Damn!
"W-Wait, boy…! Stop, lover…!" the lustfully infused young wife whispered in a tremulous voice, with reluctance forcing the huge animal's massive head and burning tongue from between her obscenely spread legs. "We'll have to finish this later, darling!" she hissed, shivering from the intensive sensation electrifying her charged young loins in their almost-reached, climactic moment! Damn, who could it be? she raged inwardly, handing Lancer the ham bone and opening the pantry door as the soft knock came once more.
"Oh, so there you are, young man!" Vickie Davis, a tall, willowy, auburn-haired girl in her mid thirties accused in a soft, pleasing voice. She smiled at Beth, then pretended a frown on her lovely, classic-featured face as she looked down at her German Shepherd. "He's been begging again, I see… and doing well, by the size of that bone."
Still trembling, Beth sensed the uncontrollable flush to her cheeks at the identity of her caller, flustered at the thought of the lurid act she had only a minute before been engaged in with her chicly dressed neighbor's pet. All the same, she managed a smile, working to keep it guilt-free. "Oh, he comes to see me everyday. I'd miss him if he didn't," she replied, subconsciously admiring the professional model's obviously expensive pants suit.
"Really…?" Vickie Davis said, her accentuation of the single worded question uneasing Beth. "Well, I can see that he likes you, Mrs. Durke, the way he's rubbing against your legs," she went on in her velvet-like voice, a certain expressive light in her amber colored eyes adding to the blonde young wife's uneasiness. "Quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if he were some reincarnated philanderer of note, the way he takes to pretty girls."
Beth laughed, struggling for casualness and enraged with herself at the hot twinge she knew continued to redden her cheeks. She said, "Won't you come in and have a cup of coffee, Miss Davis?"
"Well… I'd love it, if you're not busy," the striking, auburn-haired beauty answered with a delicate display of charm that raised goose-flesh on Beth's still excited young body. "I don't believe in kaffee-klatch females idly annoying their neighbors every morning, but if you promise to return the visit, I'll be happy to accept."
"I assure you, I will," Beth said, still smiling as she opened and held the door for her lissome neighbor's entrance, noticing that she wore no brassiere beneath the loose fitting stylish blouse. At the same time, Lancer trotted out the opened way carrying his bone and both girls laughed.
"Go home, Lancy! You hear? Go home to eat that!" Vickie Davis commanded, standing to watch the massive animal move toward her back yard.
"He minds so well, Miss Davis," Beth complimented, admiring her statuesque neighbor's fluffy bobbed hair style. There was an exciting sauciness to it, she thought. If she ever cut her hair, she'd want to wear it exactly the same…
"Please, why don't you call me Vickie?" the beautiful model suggested. "And I'll call you Beth… if I may? After all, we have been living side-by-side for some months now…"
"I should say, almost a year in fact, and I think it's an excellent idea," the blonde young wife warmly replied, the fire lessening in her cheeks as her confidence bolstered. Even the simmering sensations in her soft belly were beginning to abate… for the time being.
Vickie Davis paused then, staring at nothing, but simulating a graceful feline animal pricking up its ears. Beth couldn't imagine… then, the classic-featured beauty said, "That typewriter I hear clicking madly… would that be your husband working?"
"Yes. He writes…"
"I've heard. The Wilson's mentioned it the other night," she said, accepting Beth's offered kitchen chair beside the table. "I'd love to read his work. Is it on the stands, Beth?"
"Well… yes…" the young wife stammered, trying to remember Jay's instructive answers to be given at such times as this. "Much of it is published in Europe and available here in the states. In fact, we're lucky to even get a copy."
"Oh, that's too bad. I would enjoy so much reading something of his," her exquisite neighbor said. "I do a great deal of reading in between assignments. I seldom go out unless it's over to Stan Wilson's for dinner, or cocktails."
His name alone was enough to inspire tingles in Beth's tummy. She said as she poured their coffee: "You've known them a long time, Vickie?"
"Not really, no. Only since I bought 2236 Tasmen Drive. But they're such lovely people, so easy to know. Sara is a dream and Stan's a doll… poetic, eh? Anyway, they came over after I moved in to make Lancer and me welcome. We've been quite friendly since."
"Oh… how nice of them," Beth replied, smiling while she inwardly began to stew at the complete ignoring she and Jay had received after they'd moved in. Of course, that had to be Jay's fault, the Goddamned garbs he wore, plus his big mouth that had undoubtedly tagged him in the neighborhood…
"I'm afraid that contrary to what most people think, a model's life is a lonely one," Vickie Davis informed, sipping from her cup, "and especially after a girl gets to be thirty five. She must have her rest to keep her attributes up there in competition with the twenty-some year-old beauties. You… you must have modeled one time or another, darling, didn't you?"
"Me?" Beth questioned, surprised and staring at her beautiful neighbor, "Lord no!" she added, laughing lightly and very pleased as she sat down to her guest's right at the end of the table, not an arm's length away.
"Really? I would've immediately thought you an ex-model… or perhaps an actress of sorts. You're so beautiful with that long, blonde hair, and you have the most sensually inciting body. You see, I saw you last Sunday working in your yard, darling, and suddenly realized why my own jobs are becoming more scarce every day."
Beth laughed again, unable to ignore the sensation of flattery Vickie Davis' lauding phrases were drenching her with. It was a full minute before she detected the warm, if almost, passionate gleam in her willowy neighbor's amber-hued eyes, but by that time, the stunning model had already delicately placed her long, slender hand on top of hers!
"I can help you… introduce you to the right people, if you'd like to break into the field, darling. I think it would give me a marvelous feeling if I knew I had something like a… a protegee…"
The incredulous emotions Beth was immediately experiencing at the soft, warm touch of the striking, auburn-haired girl's hand covering her own, were unbelievable! She felt her breath catch in her throat, as well as all the sensate excitement she'd known in the pantry and before, vibrantly seething once more! God, it was ridiculous! But it was true! She couldn't even speak!
"Why don't you come over and have dinner with me tonight, Beth, darling… alone, so we can talk girl things?" her enchanting neighbor quietly whispered. "Lancer will be there… just the three of us… but he's a very uninforming third party. Quite dependable in every respect, I promise you… even without the boon of a ham bone. Can you… Or are you obligated…?"
"No… that is, we have no obligations this evening," Beth heard herself quickly reply. "Jay… my husband, has a meeting with his writer's guild… I… I'd love to come!"
"Marvelous, darling!" Vickie softly intoned, pressuring her hand warmly. "Let's say, sevenish for cocktails… and don't dress, dear… just something easily slipped out of in case we want to take a dip in the pool, eh? Personally I like to swim in the nude, and the arrangement of my pool offers that private luxury."
Jay Robert Durke's curvaceous young wife could only gaze intently in the amber gems of her beautiful next door neighbor's almond-shaped, candescent eyes. Whatever was happening to stroke the little bed of dormant embers in her soft belly and loins, Beth welcomed it! She turned her hand palm upward beneath the enticing model's enveloping one, interlacing slender fingers in a gentle squeeze of warmth that she, herself, couldn't understand!
Her provoked, feminine mind spun! Jay's typewriter suddenly made a machine-gun staccato! His first novel, LESBICUS LADY raced through her excited brain! A fleeting replica of Jerry Adams' youthful handsomeness registered! Stan Wilson's heated lips said: "Tonight, Beth? Can you get out tonight…?"
"Agreed dear…? Cocktails at seven?" Vickie softly repeated, arising with practiced grace from the table and walking toward the door.
"Seven… yes, of course," Beth answered. "And… and I won't dress…"
"No need, darling… we'll just keep it informal," the tall, svelte, auburn-haired girl sensually breathed, taking Beth's small hand for one final little squeeze. "I just know we're going to be very close friends… and I'm so looking forward to this evening…!"
"Yes… so am I, Vickie," the blonde, aroused wife partially whispered, searching the other's enchanting face as she pressed open the screened door for her to leave…