Lori, his first wife, hadn't been that way. She'd fucked with gusto. Wanda would fuck with mind-blowing passion, and that was why he was getting tempted. Fucking Ellen was like masturbating in her pussy. He was alone!
Burke's prick throbbed again when he thought of Wanda. He was about to swear at himself one more time when it dawned on him that she just might know where Ellen was. He thought he remembered her saying that she might go to the showing, too.
He reached for the phone and picked it up this time, dialing. Her voice was thick and sleepy, more sultry over the wire than in person. He imagined her in bed, between satin sheets, her raven hair flowing over the pillow, her tits thrusting and the nipples showing as bumps under the satin. He let his prick throb the way it wanted to.
"H'lo?" she slurred breathily.
"Wanda, it's Burke. I'm sorry to wake you up, but Ellen isn't home yet. Did you go to that showing? Did you see her there?"
There was a sultry, sexy little laugh that went right through him. "Mmm, is this finally an invitation, honey?"
"Cut it out, Wanda," he choked, cupping his crotch, feeling how hard his prick was. "I'm worded about her. Tell me."
"I went and I saw her there," she said. Her voice came awake a little more. "She isn't home? That's funny. I walked to the car with her and watched her get in and drive away."
"You're sure?"
"She was very polite with me. Too polite, sweetie! I think she suspects I have designs on her husband. You know you were a coward not to let me work with you tonight and… take inventory. There are two big, hard jewels I've just been dying to fondle and kiss and suck. They have a big handle attached to them, and I know just what I -."
"Wanda, cut it out," he choked huskily, feeling his prick throb with unbelievable fierceness. He was visualizing the way her wide mouth and soft lips were forming the words into the mouthpiece, the way her satin sheet dipped and molded between her moving thighs.
She was still laughing at him, taunting him. "You could say you were out all night looking for her, darling. You could even tell yourself that it was her fault that you unintentionally ended up here at my apartment. My bed is so big and lonely, Burke, my pussy so quivery and wet. Mmmmm, I'm getting goose-bumps, darling. Ohhhhh, God, I've got to touch it and play with… ahhhh!" she gasped.
"Wanda…" He began to sweat. His hand shook. He couldn't take the receiver from his ear as he listened to the soft rustling sounds, breathy gasps, low moans.
"Ohhhh, that feels so good, Burke!" she cried softly. "Mmmmmm, I wish I had your big hard cock in my wet pussy right now, instead of just my finger! A finger just isn't – ahhhhh, hurry, darling. Hurry over, before I come! Ohhhh, I don't want to waste it this way! Burke, come over quickly and fuck me! I'm so hot I can't… ahhhhh, listen, darling! Just listen to it! How wet!"
He held his breath. Blood pounded through him. He pressed the receiver to his ear tightly. Then he heard it. The sound was unmistakable.
It was a syrupy sound, slick and juicy. He knew she was holding the mouthpiece at her pussy. He imagined her silky, trim thighs parted widely, her raven bush circling and moving up and down.
He closed his eyes and could nearly smell the heavy, fragrant, dizzying aroma wafting from her wet cunt. He could picture the silky pussy lips parted, the quivering vaginal hole, muscles clenching and shaking, making the sucking sounds he heard.
He could see her finger fucking in and out of her pussy, the tip circling around in the slippery meat, sweeping up her puffy gap to tease her clit.
Then the silky sounds grew muffled. He heard a far-off moan, a little squeal. The sucking noises grew instantly distinct and loud, and his cock jerked so hard he nearly shot his load into his pants.
His heart hammered into his throat. She had to be! She was fucking her wet, eager pussy with the mouthpiece!
There was a snapping sound, as if spasming muscles, the scratch of pubic hair. A passionate groan – his name.
"Burke! God, I'm coming! Ohhhhh, thrust your tongue through this phone and lick my clit, darling! Ahhhhhhgh!"
He stood there. He sweated. His hand squeezed his prick again and again. He was ready to jerk off and spurt a huge load all over his carpet. He heard nothing for a long moment except a soft, rhythmic rasp, as if the mouth-piece were brushing her raven pubes with each breath she took.
Just when he couldn't take it any more, there was a brushing sound and the soft, husky, sultry hum of her voice.
"Ohhh, thank you, darling. Thank you for calling me and waking me up and giving me such a wonderful call. Mmmm, I needed that. God, it was good. It was so good I want more, darling, more! Ohhh, come over and give me a real one, Burke. Now my pussy's really wet and it's still waiting. Hot and wet and waiting, darling! Come fuck me, Burke! Hurry!"
There was another moan, as if she were attacking her drenched pussy with nimble, sliding fingers again. Then the line went dead. He stood there holding the instrument, listening to the cold, mechanical buzz.
It was like a bucket of ice water after the steamiest bath of his life. He slammed the piece into the cradle. His mouth was dry. His fingers trembled. He wiped sweat from his forehead. He looked down and saw that his prick was throbbing and thrusting from his fly, a drop of oil leaking from the tip and stringing toward the floor.
He couldn't believe what he'd just been through, how intensely she'd affected him. God, if only Ellen were more like that Ellen.
He bent his stiff prick enough to stuff it back into his pants. He felt worse off than before. He had sexual jitters on top of the worry. And he had the knowledge that she'd gotten into the car to leave and come home.
Without hesitation this time, he called the police. There accident involving her and no report of one being investigated along her probable route.
He hung up and felt somewhat better. But now he was too jittery to wait around in the house. Maybe Tish would…
Tish!
Yeah, that was it! That's where she was! She'd dropped by Hugh Parker's house to see how the girls were getting along!
He'd nearly forgotten that Tish was spending the night with her girl friend, Ann, while Hugh and Betty were out of town. Of course! That's where Ellen was! She had to be!
Grinning like a moron, he went quickly from the study toward the garage. He wouldn't call. He'd just go over there and surprise all of them.
He got into his car and drove through the quiet residential streets until he reached Parker's house. He pulled over and cut the lights, still grinning, and was just getting out of the car when it dawned on him that the car parked in the drive wasn't Ellen's.
He stared at it in the dim light from the street lamp down the block. He'd seen it before, he was sure. It took him a long moment to place it.
It was Jack Feeny's car – that curly-headed creep who'd been hanging around Tish lately. And wherever Jack went that asshole Harvey Miller followed, like a piece of shit stuck to the butt hairs of a mangy dog.
Burke tightened inside. He felt ready to explode.
He thought he'd run those punks off months ago. First Ellen, then Wanda, and now two yo-yos hanging around Tish and Ann, taking advantage of the fact that Hugh and Betty weren't home, parking outside the house at nearly two in the morning. It hit him in the head like a brick, and he paused in his furious lunge from the car.
There was a dim light on in the house, coming from where he knew the living room was. It was the only light on the block, save for the street lamps. The curtains were drawn over the window, but that didn't stop him from seeing a shadowy figure pass in front of them and linger for just a moment.
He wasn't sure what he was looking at. There seemed to be two people casting their shadows upon the drapes. They seemed to be making the figure K. That's what it looked like, a big shadowy K on the drapes.