He arched, his neck on the chair back and his ass thrusting upward off the seat. She straightened her legs, extending them to the sides, and felt the hardness of his hip joints digging into the flesh of her inner thigh muscles. His fingers squeezed her waist while she clutched fiercely at his wrists.
"Ummmmh! Baby! BABY!" She swayed with the pulse of her lust.
Art uttered an explosive grunt and spewed jism into her horny cunt. She flinched at the violence of her contractions and ground her teeth together. When her orgasm released its grip on her, she fell forward on her husband.
"Darling! Oooh, darling! I love you! I love you so much!"
He stroked her back tenderly and touched her forehead with his lips. "Yeah. I love you, too, sugar. I've got to say, you're some kind of pussy today! What's the story?"
She told him of the childhood she'd kept secret from him. She mentioned the bad feeling between her grandmother and her parents and of her own worship of the hard-bitten old lady. And she described in vivid detail the crucial day in the wilderness area.
"Grandma died when she found out I was pregnant," she said. "There was only one way I could think of to make up for that."
"And that was turning into the sterile kind of bitch she figured a broad ought to be?"
"Yes. I wouldn't say it like that, but yes."
"You're not that icicle today! That's for damn sure!"
"No. Or ever again. I'm the other me."
"How come?" Art grinned and touched her lips with his fingertip. "Let me guess. Dr. Davis, maybe?"
"Ugh! Lecherous psycho! I'm never going there again!" She shuddered. "In a way it was him, though. He made me mad enough to start thinking. And Vanessa was there to think, too."
"Van. Yeah, she's got her feet on the ground."
"And her butt, with her legs spread, if a man looks interested!" Helen gasped, startled by her reaction.
Art pushed her away from his chest and stared at her. "Huh! What brought that on?"
"I saw. Art, I saw the way you took advantage when I was helpless that night. And she'd been waiting a long time! It was in her eyes!"
"Ohhhh!" Art whistled. "Things moved too fast for you!"
"You two moved fast enough! If I'd been able to think, I'd have thought the two of you had set me up so you could get together!"
"You mean that, don't you?"
Helen hesitated. For a moment she was aware of herself as if her consciousness were a third person. She felt the intimacy of her flesh with Art's and the emotional tension between them. And she had a weird sensation of clinging to him in some other dimension with slipping fingers.
"Art!" She heard the edge of panic in her own voice. "Honey, I'm sorry. I don't care about what you do with her. Just save enough for me!"
Chapter 8
Art showered and dressed with no appearance of urgency. Helen slipped facial tissues inside the crotch of her panties and followed her husband, slouching against the cabinet in the bathroom while he was in the shower and perching on a chair with her arms around her knees while he was dressing. He chuckled when she followed him from the bedroom.
"You going to stay like that?" he asked.
"Do you mind? I'm going to take a douche in a minute, but I'm not going to dress."
"Man alive! Go douche, then!" He slapped her butt. "And hurry!"
While she was in the bathroom, she heard the telephone. When she returned to the living room, Art was grinning.
"Hey, guess what, sugar? That was Van on the line."
"Does she want me to call her back?" asked Helen.
Art shook his head, still grinning. "She wanted to tell you she and Barry were going to drop by. Be here in a few minutes."
"A few minutes!" Helen clutched at herself.
"What for?"
Her husband shrugged. "Damned if I know. Just being friendly, near as I could tell." He glanced sideways at her. "Hell, maybe they figured they'd catch you alone and join you for fun and games. They didn't know I was taking the day off."
"Art! What a thing to say!"
He laughed. "I sure can't imagine why else Barry would be coming. Hell, he's got a job, too! You don't make sales sitting around home!"
She giggled. "Depends on what you're selling." And his earlier words came to her. "A few minutes, did you say?" She shrieked. "Honey! It was more than a few minutes ago when they called!"
"Yeah."
"And you let me stand around out here like this! Honestly, Art!"
"Barry's not about to criticize. And Van's understanding. Why not?"
Why not? Why not, for the Today Helen? she thought. Brrr! I wouldn't back away from that cock today! "I think you're mean," she told Art. "But I've got the guts to call your bluff-this time."
"Good."
Before she had gotten to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. She heard voices and recognized Vanessa's. I can't do it! she realized with a sinking feeling. I know I can't! Not like this! She darted into the kitchen. An apron! That's what I need! She jerked open the apron drawer and held up one of her hostess models.
"Oh, no!" she cried aloud. The apron was a dainty, decorative bit of uselessness, and the notion of resorting to it abruptly drew on a streak of perverse humor. She giggled and tied the belt ribbon on. Heart-shaped, the lower panel had a narrow band of red trim and a wider lace ruffle. She raised the upper panel and buttoned its straps behind her neck. It was a second, smaller heart, each lobe lying against the underside of one of her boobs with its strap wide of her nipple. She had to giggle again.
"Myyy God!" Vanessa's tone was a mixture of astonishment and awe. "Helen!"
Helen whirled. "Oh, dear God, Van! You scared me out of ten years' growth! I was afraid Barry was with you!"
"He's in with Art. But what are you doing dressed like that?"
"Art didn't change the other night, Van. You didn't really expect him to be that shocked, did you?"
Vanessa appeared to tense. "Well…"
"I wouldn't have expected it, either, except I was high on screwdrivers. Anyhow, doing what I did convinced me how important he is to me." She paused and spread her hands, palms forward. "So I changed, instead."
"I can't believe it! Honey, you're not going out there in front of Barry like that, are you?"
"Why not? It didn't bother you the other night!"
"Damn it, that was night time! He's still got calls to make."
"Then how come he's over here in the middle of the day?"
Vanessa sniffed. "I didn't know that was a crime."
"I didn't say it was. But neither one of you knew Art was home today."
"No. We didn't. Why is he, anyway?" Vanessa's glance fell to Helen's scanty costume and the corners of her mouth crinkled. "On second thought, that's a foolish question."
"Art said you probably meant to take up where you left off the other night," suggested Helen. She was conscious of a twinge of guilt at the implication that Art had meant his little jest.
"You mean…?" Van gasped. "For God's sake! Are you two paranoid?"
"He didn't mean it. I wondered, though, after he said it."
"Well! We were worried, if you want to know. We realized that was a rough experience for you. Barry thought you might like to go out to lunch with us." She shook her head. "Looks like that's the last thing you'd want to do."
"I was getting ready to fix something to eat here. Why don't you and Barry eat with us?"
"With you dressed like that, Barry would only be thinking of eating one thing. God, Helen! Turn around. Let me see how you look from behind."
Helen turned, resentful of Vanessa's reaction. She heard Vanessa's low whistle.
"Those panties are a louder invitation than the ones Olga wears!" exclaimed the blonde. She smiled suddenly. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd own anything like that."
"Art sent off for them. I couldn't throw them out, but they didn't ever come out of the drawer."
"He sent off? Where?"
Helen laughed. "You want a pair? They're risky, Van." Her irritation evaporated. After all, she has a right to be off balance, she thought. How was she to know I was going to change? She didn't even know about the other me. "Art might remember, though, if you're not scared of what might happen."