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"I told you," Judy said. "Because I can't live with him and feel guilty. I'm having too good a time and poor Bill is working his balls off. It just doesn't seem fair."

Trish put her arm around her waist. They started walking toward the house.

"Let me get this straight. You're divorcing him because you're getting your jollies and he isn't."

"That's putting it simply," Judy said.

"Hell," Trish said. "We can do something about that. At least I can."

Judy stopped walking. That had been something else that hadn't occurred to her. Of course they could get Bill to join their games. Then she wouldn't feel as guilty.

Bill Bowers was tired. Very tired. He had spent the day doing chores that he had been putting off. He also had a lot on his mind. He was especially worried about Judy. She had been acting strange the put few days.

He had to admit that it wasn't much fun living on the farm. He tried to make it easier on her by hiring Trish. Judy had never been much of a cook.

He thought about Trish and he felt his blood get hot.

Trish was the best-looking thing he'd seen in a long time, besides Judy. He tried not to get alone with her very much because he was unsure of himself. Women had never been too much of a problem for him.

He just didn't need as much sex as other men. Judy had been keeping him well-satisfied until Trish had come along.

He almost wished he hadn't hired her. He couldn't keep his mind off those huge titties and her jiggling ass-cheeks. She never wore a bra. He often could see the pink outlines of her big nipples through the blouses she wore.

He wondered what it would be like to be in bed with her. Would she fuck like Judy?

He didn't like thinking like this. He tried to keep his mind off it.

At supper that evening he found himself looking more than usual. It was almost as if Trish was trying to show herself off. She wore a tight pants outfit that revealed the cleft of her ass-cheeks and a blouse that was so tight her big titties strained against it. "Goddamn," Bill said softly.

"Did you say something, darling?" Judy asked. "I said Goddamn."

"Any reason?"

"No," he said. "I guess I'm just tired."

"All that work," Randy interrupted. "You're working too hard. You should take a few days off and relax."

"I will," he said. "After the crops come in." He took his eyes off Trish who was bent over the sink. He needed a drink. A drink would help to relax him. He stood up from the table and stomped into the sitting room.

"He's in a bad mood," he beard Trish say. "Grumpy old bear," Judy laughed. He didn't care what they thought. He didn't want to be in the same room with Trish.

He poured himself a stiff drink and stretched out on the couch. Again his mind went to Trish. She was just such a fine looking thing. All that golden hair and the way she just walked said sex.

Sex all over.

He sipped again at his drink.

He heard her come in. He turned his head so that he could see her standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Bowers wanted me to tell you, sir," Trish said, "that she and Randy are going for a walk. They won't be back for a while."

He waved his glass at Trish. He was feeling brave again.

"How about filling this up again, Trish?" he asked.

"Sure," she said.

She took his glass. He felt an impulse to reach out and caress one warm cheek of her ass as she stood near him. He controlled himself. But he didn't control the evident lust in his eyes as she walked over to pour his drink.

"Why don't you pour yourself one?" he asked.

"Are you sure it's all right?"

"Go ahead," he said. "Enjoy it. One little drink isn't going to hurt you."

The truth was that he didn't want her to leave. He was afraid that she would hand him his glass and leave. He wanted her to stay a few minutes longer. Just a few minutes. He told himself that it was wrong, that he had a good wife and he shouldn't be thinking such thoughts. But he didn't want her to leave. He sighed in relief as she poured herself a drink.

"I really shouldn't," she said.

"Why not?"

"I get kind of mellow when I drink," she said.

"It makes me all hot and wanting to do crazy things."

She came to the couch and sat down beside him. She handed him his drink. It was strong.

"Like what?" he asked. "What does it make you feel like doing?"

"Crazy things," she said.

"What kind of crazy things?" he insisted. "Oh, you know," she said. "I laugh a lot and I get hot and I want to take off my clothes."

The conversation was getting out of hand, but he didn't want to stop it. He was having vivid pictures of Trish taking off her clothes. Of those huge titties freed from the confinement of her blouse. He could already see them jiggling.

"It makes you want to take off your clothes?"

"Yes," she said.

"Then maybe you should have a few more."

"Why, Mr. Bowers," Trish exclaimed. "What would your wife say if she beard that?"

"She's having a walk with her cousin," Bill said. "She'd never hear anything we have to say."

Trish giggled but he noticed she kept sipping at her drink. Bill knew he should get Trish out of the room very fast. Somehow he couldn't.

Trish sat down beside him and pressed her leg against his. He could feel the hot warmth of her thigh and it made him itch to get at her. He could feel the boiling in his balls, the aching of his prick as it grew hard.

This was going to have to stop. He kept telling himself but he just couldn't convince himself.

"You're just about finished," he said, eyeing her drink. "Do you want another?"

"Why, Mr. Bowers," she said. "I believe you really are trying to get me high."

"Maybe a little," he admitted.

"But you don't need to get me high to get rue to take my clothes off. All you have to do is ask."

Her face was innocent but he felt the heat stir in his body. All he had to do was ask. All he had to do was just open his mouth and she would get naked. Those huge tits would, be freed from confinement. He wanted to taste them, fondle them. He tried to gain control of himself.

"Maybe you'd better go," he said.

"If that's what you want," she said. "Like I said. All you have to do is ask."

She almost got up from the couch but he couldn't let her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down into his lap.

"Whew," she said, reaching between them and touching the stiffness of his prick. "You have a problem."

"Yes," he admitted. "I have a problem."

"Then we'll have to do something about it," she said.

She stood up. Her hands were on the buttons of her blouse.

"Do you want to see me naked?" she asked him. He wanted to. He wanted to see her and to do other things. I wanted to sink his teeth into her luscious tits. He wanted to sink his prick into her hot box.

"Yes," he said.

She smiled and undid the buttons of her blouse. She shrugged it off her shoulders. She was naked beneath. He gasped as he saw those tits. They were as large and as well shaped as be had imagined.

"Come here," he said.

"But I'm not through," she protested.

"Come here, damn it," he commanded.

She looked frightened as she walked toward him. Jt turned him on even more. He pulled her back into his lap. His hands went to her titties. He rubbed them as if he had never felt titties before. He pressed the flat of his hands against them and then watched them spring out with the proud vibrancy of youthful flesh.

"Oh God," he said. "Oh God!"

"Would you like to taste them? I like for men to suck my titties."

God, did he want to suck them. He bent his bead and sucked the creamy flesh into his mouth. He loved it.

"Ummmmm," she moaned. "That's nice, Mr. Bowers. That's real nice."

He cupped her ass. They felt firm and unyielding in his hot hand. He moved his hand around to her zipper. He jerked it down and then unbuckled her tight jeans.