"It-it sounds – it sounds exciting," Pam said, and the thudding of her heart behind the soft, full cushion of her left tit was like a drum beating inside her body.
"Trust me," Dianne said, "I can lead you to delights you've never dreamed of. If excitement is what you're looking for, you are guaranteed to find excitement. Only trust me."
"Okay," Pam said, sealing the bargain with a kiss.
"Now, then," Dianne observed, "why don't we go back down to the party before they turn off the lights and lock all the doors? Here. Your lipstick is smeared. Mmmm, let me smear it just one more time for luck, okay?"
"Okay," Pam giggled.
CHAPTER NINE
As a party, it wasn't bad at all. Pam smiled and made excellent small talk with the big shots from the local office and from the New York main office, and Mr. Murdock, who couldn't take his eyes off the low neckline of her dress, said, "Kerry, you and Pam are going to have to come out more often. Especially since you're going to be my right-hand man from now on. Catherine," he said, turning to his wife, "when can we have the Wilsons for dinner?"
For dinner? Pam thought wickedly. Talk about your Freudian slips! He was already eating her with his eyes and something told her that, if she were willing, Mr. Murdock would be only too happy to eat her with his mouth as well. If she were willing. And she wasn't. Pam had other fish to fry, tastier fish than gray-haired Mr. Murdock with his receding hairline and spacious belly. She couldn't for a moment imagine what it would be like to have his bulky body fucking atop her own in missionary position, and she wondered how slender, frown-faced Mrs. Murdock ever put up with such treatment. Maybe she didn't. After all, there weren't any little Murdocks running around.
"That sounds nice," she said, for it was the right thing to say to her husband's brand-new immediate superior at the plant. Come Monday morning Kerry would go to work in a coat and tie, and he'd have an office of his own, and he'd be making thirty thousand dollars a year, almost double his current salary.
And later New York? Dianne had virtually promised it. If he did the job he was capable of doing, Kerry's future with the Company was assured.
Dianne. Wasn't she doing some job on Kerry? It looked innocent enough from a distance, Pam supposed, and to anyone who hadn't shared that conversation upstairs in the bathroom, but Dianne Hagen was spending a lot of time talking to Kerry Wilson and she was doing some interesting things – if you'd read "Body Language". The messages were subtle, but isn't subtle usually best? Pam talked to Mr. Murdock, watching surreptitiously over his shoulder as Dianne and Kerry chatted and laughed, and she thought, Yes, she's right, it could work. Kerry seemed very attentive to Dianne, and it couldn't all be due to the fact that she was the New York office representative who had final say about his promotion. Some of it had to be attraction. Sexual attraction? If not, it would soon be.
Somehow, Pam reflected, this promised to be even more fun than the short, happy life of Patti Wright, afternoon whore. For one thing, she wouldn't have to keep it all a secret from her husband – once things got underway, of course. No need for deceptions and excuses. She could have her fun and Kerry could share in it, which was only fair and fair enough. After all, he was her husband and she loved him and cherished him. AU in all, the future looked very interesting. Pam Wilson could hardly wait for that future to get here. By summer she and Kerry and Dianne ought to be ass-deep in a delightfully different kind of relationship. Hurry, summer, she thought.
"Mmmm, it was a nice party," Pam giggled, flopping against her husband. She'd had a couple of drinks too many, not enough to make her sick, but more than enough to make her head swim with naughty ideas. "Do you think they liked me?"
"Damn right," he said, taking one hand off the wheel and putting it around her shoulders. The tips of his fingers slipped down to rest on the bare flesh above her low-necked dress, and she giggled again. It tickled. "I think you were the hit of the party. Mr. Murdock's eyes goggled out when he got a look at you, and so did everyone else's. Hey, what did you think of Dianne Hagen?"
"Oh, she seemed kinda nice, too," Pam said.
"I couldn't get away from her," Kerry sighed. "She acted like she wanted to throw a rope around me or something."
"I didn't notice you running," Pam pointed out, her hand settling onto Kerry's thigh. "Did you think she was pretty?"
"Not pretty," Kerry said, "but attractive, yeah. I mean, she's not a glamour girl or anything, she's too strong-featured to be Raquel Welch, and she sure isn't built like Raquel, either…"
But when she comes, Pamela thought, she tastes like warm milk. Like cream sherry. Sweet and tangy on the taste buds. Her tits are small and round and hard, like ripe apples, and when you suck the nipples you can almost feel moisture squirting into your mouth. But you'll find that out, darling, and soon.
Her hand covered his crotch and she squeezed the big lump she found there. Almost at once it began to harden in her grip and she leaned closer to him.
"What are you, doing?" he asked, not at all annoyed.
"Pull over," Pam said. "I think I want you to fuck me."
"Jesus Christ, baby! Can't you wait till we get home and into a nice warm bed?"
Pam laughed, then wiggled out of his embrace. She backed against the passenger door, then took off her coat. Kerry kept looking away from the road, staring at her. She puckered her lips and blew him a dozen kisses, then slipped one shoulder strap down. Part of the dress's bodice fell away and her right breast spilled out, bare and beautiful.
"You're making it hard for me," he said chidingly.
Pam reached into his lap. "And in the right place! Oh, pull over and fuck me! We haven't fucked in the car since the summer before last, when we went to the drive-in all the time. Remember?"
"How could I forget?"
"Mmmm-hmmmm," she agreed. "Hey, did anyone ever tell you that you look like the guy who used to play the gang leader in all those old cycle movies? Remember the one I mean? Big and broad-shouldered and mean-faced, but oh, Christ, so sexy. Bet he doesn't fuck the way you do."
"Oh, what the hell?" Kerry grinned as Pam let down her other shoulder strap and her left tit bounced free. She felt the car slow at almost the same moment his hand grasped one of her breasts and began to squeeze. "I see a parking lot up ahead. Can you wait just a minute?"
"Can you, tiger?" She covered his hand and pressed it to her titty. The nipple stood up, big and stiff, hot against his fingers.
He shut off the engine and slid across the seat. Pam lifted the hem of her dress and pulled his hand into her crotch. "Jesus, didn't you wear any panties tonight?" he asked.
"I forgot, them," she simpered. "You'd be surprised how easy it is for a girl to forget to wear her panties. Especially when she's thinking about the ride home. And I do mean ride. Oh, come on, get it out! I know it's hard and aching, but I have something to take care of all that!"
She dropped onto the floor, helping him undo his pants, pulling at them when he raised his ass. His trousers fell in a pile at his ankles and she pushed away the shirttail and the skirts of his coat, eager to get at his cock.