Shelton shrugged. “We should infiltrate as soon as possible, if we’re going to be included in the three-day party.”
“This weekend?”
Shelton blinked; he actually seemed uncertain himself “We’ll have to register someplace as “Mr. and Mrs.,” in case the Hunts run a check on us.”
A sudden shock of alarm surged through Sylvia’s body. She scolded herself silently, “Silly, what else did you expect?” Then she recognized, with more surprise than ever, that she was actually looking forward to it. She wanted to be in bed with him; she wanted to spend an entire night with him. She wanted him to… to… and she framed the words in her mind, “Fuck me half to death!”
“All right,” she said, hoping that none of the throbbing excitement was showing on her face.
Shelton paused, staring at her thoughtfully. “You know, of course, what’s involved? The Hunts will probably want to swap that first evening; you’ll have to… to… cooperate.”
“You mean I will have to let him make love to me.”
“Yes.”
“And presumably you and Mrs. Hunt will be alongside us in the bed or on the floor… doing the same thing?”
“Yes.”
The thought of the lewd spectacle they would present sent a shiver of forbidden excitement up her spine. To actually watch Shelton’s monstrous penis pile-driving into another woman’s naked vagina! “My God,” she said to herself in sudden dismay, “what’s happening to me that I would want to witness a perverted thing like that.” Part of her dismay came with the knowledge that she was not only eager to watch it, but eager to participate in it.
Her hands were trembling noticeably when she finally nodded again. “This weekend. I’ll meet you in Santa Barbara on Friday afternoon’. Will you take care of the accommodations?”
Shelton relaxed then and grinned. “It’s already taken care of We’re staying at the Ambassador. A king-sized bed… just in case the Hunt’s try to check on us or want to come up for a drink.”
“Of course,” Sylvia said, refusing to look at him. And suddenly very suddenly she knew that even though it was only three days away, it was going to take forever for Friday to arrive. She wanted Shelton to come back to the house with her now; she wanted him to undress her… to peel her panties slowly and tantalizingly down over her buttocks, around her knees to unfasten her bra… to kneel… She swallowed. Realizing the wickedness of her thoughts, she told herself that she was glad the detective had to get back to court that afternoon.
But then, when Sylvia analyzed her thoughts, she knew she wasn’t “glad” at all.
She was disappointed!
It was a disappointment that gradually turned to a smoldering excitement that continued to grow during the next three days… growing in strength and heat until her entire body was aflame with a passionate impatience when she stepped off the elevator at the Ambassador Friday afternoon and followed the bellboy with her bags to her “husband’s” suite.”
CHAPTER FOUR
For a split second as she entered the suite, Sylvia felt a deep sense of disappointment because Shelton wasn’t there to greet her. Then she heard him singing off-key in the shower. The edges of her mouth turned up in a small impish smile of delight, and the first zephyrs of anticipation were already blowing through her belly when she tipped the admiring bellboy five dollars.
God, she thought, I’m acting like nothing but a bitch in heat. She wanted Shelton, she wanted him now, right now! There was a vast loneliness aching down there between her legs. There really was only one question to be answered: should she play hard to get and act coy, or take the initiative?
She strode across the room and gazed out the window toward the harbor where half a hundred boats rode at anchor. They bobbed gently up and down; the motion was a completely sexual one, and the masts looked like thin eager penises jamming the womb of the sky.
And now her hands had begun to shake and her knees felt rubbery; the moment for action or non-action had arrived. She could still turn back. Her face dimpled in sudden decision, and then she was almost frantically removing shoes, yanking down panty hose, stepping out of her expensive, blue Italian knit skirt, and taking off blouse and bra. She wanted to be naked before he finished his shower.
She stood in the center of the room, waiting for him. Her breasts had darkened, and her nipples had grown erect by themselves. She groaned as she ran a hand feverishly down over her pubic hair; the current shot through her. She flaunted her pelvis a couple of times and whimpered deep in her throat… like a bitch in heat, she thought again.
When Shelton still did not put in an appearance, Sylvia bit her lower lip indecisively and then tiptoed rapidly toward the bathroom. She opened the door. The steam hit her with a warm moistness. Through the fog, she could see his muscular body outlined in the glass door of the large shower stall. He continued to sing.
Her eyes were flashing mischievously as she slowly reached out for the door handle. Then, quickly, she opened it and stepped inside. She couldn’t have asked for a better setup, she thought; there was the detective, his hair all lathered up, his eyes closed… and not the least bit aware that someone had stepped into the shower stall with him. She choked back a giggle as she watched him… watched the white soapy suds running down his backbone to disappear into the crevice between his strong buttocks. Slowly, with a prankish grin on her face, she reached out for his penis.
Shelton’s first awareness that someone was in the shower with him came with the soft touch of a hand sliding down his abdomen to fasten gently on his cock. “What in hell,” he shouted, and jumped in sudden alarm, almost slipping. His eyes opened, a mistake!… for the soap blinded him again almost immediately. He saw enough, though.
There, as if a dream had suddenly materialized, was the nude golden body of the Akron woman, her harvest moon breasts already wet, and a stream of water running down her belly into her silken pubic hair. She was laughing at his reaction.
The surprised yelp came out of him, “Sylvia?”
“Who else did you expect? Sophia Loren? After all, I am supposed to be your wife.”
He gasped, then choked as soapy water ran into his mouth, for Sylvia had begun to slowly move her hand back and forth on his prick. A low groan of desire came squawking out of his larynx, and her delighted laughter hit his ears.
Sylvia stepped up even closer to him and, still stroking his cock with her right hand, put her left arm around his waist. She knew she was getting her hair soaked. Too bad, she thought uncaringly; her hairdresser had worked almost an hour on it this morning because Sylvia wanted to look especially nice. Under the machinations of her fingers, she could feel life surging into the prick; it was a terribly sensual feeling as the soapy water caused her hand to slip almost without friction from head to base of the huge rod. She felt lewd excitement expanding in her loins as the thing in her hand grew in size. Now it was elongated, sticking out in front of him as though it were the long, white-skinned neck of a turkey.
“Hurry up and get the soap out of your hair and eyes,” she said, beginning to feel impatient again and jerking his cock a couple of times in emphasis.
Hansen, who had been standing there with his eyes closed, let the sensations flow over his body. He could feel the warm water flowing over his head, could feel Sylvia’s breasts and nipples pressing against his chest… but the best thing of all was that excruciatingly wonderful movement of her hand stroking his hardening prick.
Quickly he rinsed his hair and washed the soap from his blinded eyes. Then he looked at her. Even barefoot, she was still about two inches taller than he. Her eyes were gazing unfathomably at him, almost as if they were daring him. Her moist lips… parted in amusement and possibly hunger… were only inches from his. He reached out, planted his sinewy hands on her flaring hips, and gruffly pulled her to him. The new position made it difficult for her pliant fingers to stroke his prick, so she contented herself with holding it tightly in her fist clenching and unclenching her hand in time to the beat of his pulse down there. It was a maddening tempo, one that she found echoed in her own belly.