"Oh, you!" she laughed, feeling herself flush. "Van? Do we have to get lunch?"
Vanessa cuddled on Art's lap, her lips at his ear, stirred and looked around. "Hmm? Lunch? Not now. Barry's appointment is in half an hour." She glanced at her husband. "For heaven's sake, Barry! Get your peter in!" And then, "Oh, no! You've got to go home and change! You've got pussy tracks all over you!"
Helen's face burned and she avoided Vanessa's eyes. Barry grumbled and tucked his cock inside his trousers.
"It isn't all that Goddamn bad, woman," he growled.
"It's bad enough you've got to change your pants!"
"Okay, okay. I didn't say I wasn't going to. Only we'll have to get a move on. You ready to wind up whatever you got going with Art?"
"And what would that be?" Vanessa bristled.
"How the hell would I know? Maybe you're trying to work him for a pair of those fuck-pants!"
"Barry Rush!" His wife blazed at him. "You go ahead. I'll get Art and Helen to bring me home."
"Suit yourself." Barry heaved himself to his feet and zipped his fly. He paused on the way to the door to kiss Helen, then he was gone.
"Maybe he was hungry," suggested Art.
"Of course he was! Hungry for pussy when he saw all that flesh! Well, he got it, didn't he?"
Helen resented Vanessa's implications. "It seems to me you dragged me in here like this," she said. "I was looking for something to cover me up."
"A hostess apron?!" Vanessa snorted. "What's the difference? I mean, after all!"
"You still dragged me in."
"Damn it! Once I saw you like that I couldn't do anything else! It's a sort of a thing between Barry and me. Like an unwritten agreement. But I wouldn't have had to if you'd had any clothes on."
"Van! For Christ's sake! I dress for what's happening when I'm at home, not for whether someone might drop in!"
"I called first."
Art nodded. "They did phone first," he said. "Fact is, I've got to agree it's going pretty far to shack up with another guy on his lunch break. I mean, it's like the difference between liking to eat and being compulsive about it. I don't know that we want to let this thing between us go quite that far."
Helen stared at her husband, aghast. He didn't want me the way I was, she thought. Now he doesn't want me this way, either! A tendril of panic sneaked through her. What'll I do! It's too late to go back! It was bad enough to have to live with what I did with that Indian guide: I couldn't stand to have all the things I've done these three days hiding in the back of my mind! Besides, I like sex too much. If I have to choose, I'd rather be what I am now! Oh, what'll I do?
Vanessa sighed and got up. "Look, maybe we're all hungry. We're getting all up-tight without any good reason. We're mature enough to be honest about what we feel like doing. If one of us is a little hotter what's the difference? Maybe I don't yank off my clothes every time I get hot for Art, but there might be a time when I would. I'm not going to set myself up to judge you for going overboard, Helen."
CHAPTER TEN
Helen cleaned up after lunch. She'd sensed a current flow between Art and Vanessa and suggested that he take Vanessa home. She knew he'd understood – and that he wouldn't hurry back. And she found herself spending more time thinking than working. The two strokes of the grandmother clock in the dining room nearly failed to register with her. She felt them rather than hearing them, and they were nothing but an echo in her mind when she realized they meant something.
"Omigod!" she exclaimed aloud to herself. Danny! He gets out of school at two! And he'll probably run all the way home! He's not going to catch me dressed this way!
She dropped the plate she was holding. Ignoring the crash it made when it shattered on the floor, she sprinted toward the master bedroom.
"I did promise about the bath," she muttered. "I did promise about that. And he'll insist on watching me undress. Well, I'm not going to be wearing these! Not for him again!" She whipped off the controversial bra and panties and put on more conventional replacements. What dress? What dress? She searched through her closet, then stopped abruptly. Helen! You stupid bitch! Why not a dressing gown? What would be more natural, knowing I'm going to be taking a bath?
She stripped again and shrugged into her everyday dressing gown, wondering why she hadn't heard her son yet. She worried in spite of herself, and she'd gone to both outside doors before she recalled that Danny would assume his father was there. "And he'll figure I'm not going to take a bath in front of him when Art's home," she added aloud.
As she closed the back door she heard Danny come in through the front.
After a moment of silence, he called out. "Hey! Anyone home? Where is everybody?"
She smiled. "Here I am Danny."
"Oh. Okay."
She went through the kitchen to the dining room and saw her son disappearing in to his room. He reappeared at once.
"Had to get rid of my books," he said. "Hey, where's Dad?"
"He went out. He'll be back for supper."
"Oh. Good! Hey, Mom, any apples? I'll eat one while I'm watching you take a bath." He paused and a question showed in his expression. "You didn't take it yet, did you? You promised, Mom!"
She shook her head. "No. No, I haven't taken it yet."
"Great! Bitchin', Mom! Hey, I got an idea! I'll eat that apple later; I'll take a bath with you, Mom! Won't that be something else!"
He seized her and crushed her to him, twisting her so her breasts rubbed on his chest. His hand slid through the overlap on the front of her gown and pressed between her thighs to bury itself among the folds of her pussy. She squirmed, warmth rising through her and a surge of excitement momentarily making her giddy.
"Oh, Danny!" she whispered. "Please!"
"Oh, okay." He withdrew his hand after letting one fingertip dart into her cunt for an instant. "Okay, I guess. Come on. We've got a lot of time."
They had, she realized. They had time for Danny to carry out any number of boyish games with her, and she was convinced his was an inventive imagination. She shivered and backed away. They went to the master bath, where she knelt to start the water. She used a generous portion of bubblebath, knowing she'd be grateful for the thick suds at first. After that, she thought with a sigh, I won't care. I know it!
Instead of waiting for the tub to fill, Danny returned to his room to undress. "It's like filling a swimming pool," he muttered as he left.
When he returned he was totally naked and had a massive hard-on. Helen felt a painful surge of desire at the sight of his youthful leanness as he strode into the room completely unabashed by his stiff erection. She was struck again by the over-sized appearance of his cock and its darkness. He looked as if someone had constructed him out of spare parts, giving him a boy's body – beautifully developed, but a boy's nonetheless – and a giant's prick. There was no mistaking his immaturity, however. He had a massive hard-on, his cock engorged and already dripping long, thin strands of his colorless pre-cum fluid. Helen's mouth watered.
Danny was as eager as his hard-on made him appear. He went immediately to his mother and untied her belt, drawing back the front of her gown to expose her creamy nakedness. His eyes glittered and he licked his lips. Helen quailed before his fierce expression of hunger. She clutched his forearms, recognizing his physical tension by the iron-hard condition of his muscles. With as little attention to her resistance as if her hands were at her sides, he raised his arms and slipped the gown off her shoulders. She released his wrists and let the garment slide off her arms and tumble to the floor.
Her son breathed hard as he ran his hands over her. "I thought about you all day, Mom," he said. "I kept seeing you like this and getting a hard-on." He grinned wryly. "By the end of the first period my balls ached so bad I could hardly make it to the next class!"