Doug's little concession to his repressed sexuality turned Cynthia on. His big body, his strength, his closeness to her in the booth made her aware that she'd fantasized his making love to her even when things had been better between she and Robbie. They were isolated from the rest of the room and she felt wild and daring, freed of her marriage vows.
Soon her hand crept between Doug's legs. She was sure he'd find that too bold, but he didn't. "Harrumpthh" was all he said and he actually made no move to protect himself as she shaped his cock in his pants.
Cynthia felt hysterical. It became a game, arousing this phlegmatic man and talking along without making reference to what her hands did. How far would the stolid ex-surgeon let her go?
"-and so Robbie and this woman suddenly appeared from the direction of the swimming pool and she was putting her bra back on," Cynthia heard herself saying. Meanwhile she stroked Doug's cock mass and felt it separate out into a shaft and his balls as he got hard.
For the first time Cynthia began to get a glimmer of what Robbie meant when he said that Doug and Scotti were hung up on each other but too repressed to act, to even know it. Poor Doug must have sex desires eating him all the time and his passion for outdoors action couldn't turn it off. Then on this trip he was alone with a woman he trusted and liked and she was free to make overt gestures.
"That's fantastic," grunted Doug. "Amazin". His eyes glittered and he opened his legs a little to let her squeeze his cock under the table.
What was it like? She could already tell it was longer than Robbie's and it got just as hard. Her own cunt wet and wet some more as she stroked him. What a gorgeous man, to have such a sexy prick between his legs. If she knew Robbie he was off somewhere trying to get into Scotti's panties and that turned her on some more. Scotti was as repressed as her father, but what if Robbie actually got it on with the youngster? No, she wasn't going to hold back.
"I guess-you're telling me-you won't be a wife-to Robbie anymore," said Doug in a thickened voice.
"Not at all. Never."
"Lots of divorce-among doctors and salesmen," he said.
She wasn't exactly jacking him off. She would stroke his prick for a while and then move her hand to his thigh. Then back to the cock for more stroking. Now she went another step and squeezed it. His pants were thin enough for her to get her hand competely around it. She began to pump gently, reveling in the feel of the hard muscle rigid under the moving prick skin.
"Ah, eh, hot in here," said Doug. It was almost a gasp, the way he took his breath in. She felt the big, stiff cock throb drily in his pants.
"Oh,! Doug, I like you so much," she thrilled. "I just wish-wish"
"We'll always be-great friends," he managed.
She wanted to suggest that they go upstairs but some inner cautions told her not to move too fast. She wished she could fondle her own aching cunt but that would be too much. And so they talked, and she played with his prick under the table and they both got hotter and hotter.
A moment comes in sex when both parties know it will go all the way. Cynthia felt a deep belly thrill as she realized that somewhere inside that concealed soul Doug Crawford had decided to let her do whatever she wanted with his prick. She looked around the bar. The bartender had his head fixed on the small TV. Elsewhere two young couples had their head close together, paying them no attention. Two older men, quite squimed, had turned away to mutter to each other. Dirty jokes she judged from their chuckles.
She slipped Doug's zipper and heard him gasp. The stiff prick jerked out into her palm. She made a fist around it, dizzy, thrilled by the flowering feel of the naked sex meat in her hand. With her other hand she got a tissue from her purse.
"I'm going to take it, Doug," she whispered and began to pump him with a tight fist, laying a demand on his prick.
Doug pressed both hands flat on the table and gave a repressed groan of pleasure. She felt his body shudder involuntarily and his breath rasp in his throat. Then he stiffened.
She was so hot she wanted to bring her head down and suck out his wonderful come, swallow his pulsing jism, but she dare not. She put the tissue on top of her pumping fist and jazzed him until he exploded. The cock throbbed in her hand in wild pulsing and she felt the hot come squirt into the tissue. He lifted his butt a little and came and came and came, marvelously controlling any sound as his guts emptied. Soon both her hand and the tissue were wet, but she kept pumping taking him all the way through his ecstasy.
Doug finally fell back and muttered. "Thank you, Cynthia. That was fabulous."
"I want to know you better," she told Doug. That sounded dumb, but you said dumb things to a man like this. He would be turned off by the true expressions of her wild love feelings.
Afterwards she let him mumble quick excuses and make his escape. She felt very proud of that masturbation in the bar. It started something between her and Doug without being too heavy for him to handle. More would've been too much; less would leave them in the stuck position where he wouldn't aggress and she wouldn't either because it wasn't ladylike.
Upstairs she found Robbie glowing. He fooled with his ski stuff, humming and smiling to himself.
"Well, I suppose you pulled the old hot chocolate trick on young Scotti," she said.
"Hot chocolate goes with skiing, dear Cynthia."
It also goes with fucking. You pulled that on me once a long time ago. It was my first cunnilingus, as I remember. Did you eat her hot, repressed little box?"
Her husband looked at her with that cool, level look he'd adopted since they'd agreed on the divorce.
"Ate it, and then jacked off over her belly. I wanted a great deal more, but you have to go slow with the Crawfords. I suppose you made out with Doug?"
"You prick," she said. But somehow, this new business of telling the truth fascinated her. "I jacked him off in the bar, under the table. His cock is bigger than yours."
"He doesn't use it enough," grinned Robie. "Mine's whittled down."
She was mad at him and amused at the same time. "It should've vanished long ago by that criterion."
"Some day, some day."
"Robbie, what are we doing to them?"
"Saving their lives. Here lately it's gotten almost weird the way they hang together and avoid people. But they don't do anything. One day they'll explode, murder, suicide, something. When sex drives you crazy but you can't do anything about it, you've got a bomb on your hands."
"Just the same, Doug will kill you if he finds out you've messed with his daughter. You can forget the airplane sale."
"We'll see. Incidentally, I'm taking Scotti up on the high slopes for skiing tomorrow."
He and Scotti were the experts. She and Doug had to content themselves with the beginner's runs. She asked him about the avalanche. The threat of the avalanche condition had just about stopped all skiing in the high runs.
"Everybody will be out tomorrow. You can scare people just so long. The commercial people don't want to lose customers. The customers don't want to waste good daylight. They were lucky to hold everyone back for the past few days."
She might've made her objections stronger, but the chance to be alone with Doug tomorrow was too good to miss. They went to sleep in separate beds. For her money, Robbie made a big, fat mistake in chasing Scotti. If Doug caught on, he'd half kill his old friend. Robbie would lose the sale, too. But it was useless to argue with Robbie when he had sex on his mind.
Robbie was right about the scare being over. Every trick in the book had been tried to trigger that avalanche, sitting there waiting to happen a few miles from the town. Well, it hadn't happened and the skiers didn't think it was going to happen. The Inn emptied early. By the time Cynthia awoke, Robbie was gone leaving a note that he and Scotti were headed for Devil's Pass. Cynthia had breakfast with Doug who fussed all the way through.