
Foreword

This is the tenth in a series of stories about how Bobby Dalton was transformed, from a normal teenage boy, into a man sought after by many women.  His story starts with "The Making of a Gigolo - Tilly Johnson", and there is much information in that first story, and the ones that followed it, that will be useful to you in understanding what happens in this story.   

For your fullest enjoyment, and because parts of each story are continued in succeeding ones, please read the stories in order.

Bob

==================================


The Making of a Gigolo (10) - Elizabeth Sinderson
by Beating Off Bob

Chapter One

1973 - Spring

In early April, Tim Appleton received a letter from the President of the United States.  Nowadays, that would be cause for excitement, but everyone back then knew that it contained a draft notice.  Tim was instructed to report for basic training on the twenty third of April.

Tim's father had served in the Korean conflict, and there were many late nights when he sat with his son, while they both sipped whiskey, and he told his son about memories he had never planned to tell anyone about.  Constance was panic stricken, but Tim did a masterful job of calming her fears, reassuring her that nothing would happen to him, and that everything would be all right.

She believed him because she wanted to believe him.

====================================================

April of 1973 was almost as tumultuous for Bobby Dalton as July of 1971 had been.   That had been the month in which he had met, and fucked Jill Trimble, his sister Florence had discovered he was having a sexual relationship with another sister, Bev, and he had fucked his oldest sister, Mary, for the first time, just before her wedding.   He had also offered to fuck his mother, that month, though she put that off for a while, letting him masturbate her, instead.   Tilly Johnson, who had already had one of his babies, decided she wanted another, and he spent a lot of that month with her, in bed.   His mother, and Prudence Harris, began a wild sexual relationship with Ted Brandywine.  Mary turned out to be pregnant, when she returned from her honeymoon, and Florence and Linda, another of his sisters, started kissing him, after they caught him eating Bev's pussy.

That month had been a wild ride, and April of this year was shaping up to be just as wild.  A lot had happened, since July of 1971, and a lot of that was coming to a head, of sorts.

The first thing that happened blew everybody away.  Mary had her second baby.  Her first had been, at least to family members, obviously created by her egg and Bobby's sperm.  Little Jordan, born on April Fools Day, 1972, had been the spitting image of Bobby.

Now, on April the first of 1973, pregnant again, her water had broken, and she was in the process of delivering a second baby, on one-year-old Jordan's birthday.   Bobby and his mother had taken over the care of Jordan, when they got the news, and he was in his father's arms, at the farmhouse where Bobby still lived, despite the fact that he was now twenty-four years old.  Of seven younger sisters, only four were left at home.  Linda, the eldest still at home, had gone to the hospital, and would bring them news when it became available.

Theodore, Mirriam's baby, who also bore a startling resemblance to Bobby, was happily sucking at his mother's breast, while she complained that he should be weaned by now.

"I know how he feels," said Bobby, grinning at his topless mother.  "I'll want to suck them for as long as I can."

"That's different," said Mirriam, archly.  "You're just a terrible boy who torments his poor mother."

"If we didn't have all these babies around," said Bobby, bouncing his namesake in his arms, "I could torment you right now."

"We have all these babies around," said Mirriam firmly, "because of YOU, Robert Jordan!"

Susie, Mirriam's almost seventeen-year-old daughter, came wandering into the room.   She took Jordan from her brother's arms and cuddled him.   He wiggled, though, wanting down, and she set him carefully on his feet, holding his hands.   He had recently decided that walking was fun, though he wasn't very good at it yet.

"Mamma?" said the girl.

"Yes dear?"

"I want to go to college."

"You've wanted to go to college for years, darling," said Mirriam, changing Theodore to her other breast.

"Yes," said Susie, "but I'm trying to plan it out, except that I can't, because it's all too expensive."

"Your grades are excellent," said Mirriam.  "I'm sure you can get a scholarship."

"How will I know, until I apply to a college?" asked Suzie.  "I think I want to be a doctor, anyway, and that takes a long, long time.  I won't be able to get scholarships for all of that."

"A doctor?" asked Mirriam, obviously delighted.  "I knew you liked biology.  I think that's a wonderful goal," she said.

"I've taken all the courses I can, in high school," said Suzie.   "I have another whole year of high school left, and the only two things I have left to take are Calculus, and Applied Physics.  Everything else is stupid stuff, like Phys Ed, and World History and Speech.   My counselor at school says that there's a summer program, for people interested in med school, but it's in Wichita, and it costs a lot of money."

"How much?" asked Bobby.

Suzie looked at him.  She didn't know quite how she felt about her big brother.   She wasn't stupid.  She knew some of what was going on in the house.   Just looking at the two babies in the room right now made it pretty clear that her brother was some kind of satyr.  She knew about other babies that looked just like these too.  She knew that Linda went into Bobby's room at night, sometimes, and stayed there a long time - much too long to just talk a little bit and say goodnight.   She had kept away from boys, for that very reason.  If her own sisters ... and mother too (!) couldn't resist him, she wasn't about to expose herself to him, or any other temptation.  She was serious about her future.   Instead of dating, she took extra classes in school.  Even then, the work seemed easy, so she got books about medicine from the library in town and read everything she could get her hands on. 

"What difference does it make?" she asked.

"I might be able to help you," he said.

"It's three hundred dollars," she said.

"Your birthday is coming up," he said, intently.  "Why don't you talk to your counselor about signing up?"

Suzie was shocked.  Just like that he had offered her three HUNDRED dollars!

"That's very nice of you, Bobby," said her mother, as if he had only held the door for her or something like that.

"Do you mean it?" she asked, her breath hushed.

"Of course I mean it," he said.  "When was the last time I teased you?"

"Yesterday," she said, promptly.  "You said my hair looked like I'd been struck by lightning.

"That wasn't teasing," he said, grinning.  "That was the simple truth."

"Can I talk to you about this?" asked Suzie.  "Privately?" she added.

"I can take care of these two," said Mirriam, setting Theodore down on the floor and pulling her dress back up to cover her naked breasts.

======================================

She took him outside, because it felt ... safer, somehow.

As soon as they were ten or fifteen feet away from the house, she whirled.

"I'm not going to have sex with you!" she said.

Bobby didn't smile.  "Of course you're not," he said.

"I know about the others!" she said, sticking her chin out.

"Oh you do, do you?" he responded.

"I know you got Mary pregnant ... and Mamma too!"

"You're a pretty good doctor already," said Bobby.  This time he did smile, but it wasn't a mean smile.

"I know Linda goes to your room at night!" she insisted.

"What does that have to do with you going to summer school?" he asked.

"I'm not going to take anything from you," she said, her voice urgent, "if it means I have to have sex with you."

"Suzie," Bobby sighed.   "What in the world makes you think I'd make you do something like that?"

"I know about all those other women too," she said, still on guard.  "You do something to them.  I don't know what it is, but you cast some kind of spell on them, or something.  It scares me."

"Look," said Bobby.  "I don't know what you know, or think you know, but the fact is that I will never do anything to you, or to hurt you, in any way.  I love you.  I'm not planning on having sex with you.  I'm not going to ask for anything if you go to school, except that you apply yourself and do the best you can.  There are no strings attached to this.  It's a birthday present to my sister ... that's all."

Suzie felt doubt, but it wasn't doubt in him.   She had lived with him for seventeen years.  Only in the last few years had he started doing all these weird things ... these sexual things.

"You look at me sometimes," she said, her voice still edgy.

"You're a beautiful young woman," he said.  "Lots of guys look at you."

Suzie didn't think she was beautiful at all.  "That's what I mean," she said.  "Boys just think about sex all the time."

"Just because I think you're beautiful doesn't mean I want to have sex with you," he said.  "I can't speak for other men, of course.  All I can say is that you have nothing to worry about, concerning me."

"I want to believe you," she said softly.

"I'm telling you the truth," he said.

"You don't want to have sex with me?" she asked.

"I didn't say that," he said.  "What I said was that just because I think you're beautiful doesn't mean I want to have sex with you."

"What does that mean?" she moaned.  "Do you or don't you?"

"It's not that simple," he said.  "I'm not going to lie to you, but you need to remember that there are some answers in life that you might not like, when you get them."

"Just tell me!" she barked.

"I don't want to have sex with you," he said.  "Because you don't want to have sex with me."

"That's right!" she said.  "I don't!"

"OK then," he said.  "Problem solved."

"But if I did want that ... I don't! ... but if I did ... then would you?"

"Of course," he said.  "I love you."

"Ooooo, that does NOT make me feel any better!" she moaned.

"I told you to be careful what questions you ask," he reminded her.

"I just want to be able to hug my own big brother and not worry that he's going to rape me!" she said.

"I've never forced a woman in my whole life," he said.  "I'm not going to start."

"I don't understand that," she said.  "Why do all these women want to ... with you?"

"That's something I can't explain," he said simply.  "Maybe you'll understand that when you get a little older.   One of these days you'll meet a guy, and he'll be interesting to you, and you'll want to get to know him better.  You'll probably want other things too.  That's fine, if it happens.  It's also fine if it doesn't."

"I just want to be a doctor," she sighed.

"Then that's what you should pay attention to," he said.

"How will I get to Wichita?" she asked, feeling hope for the first time.

"Maybe we should get you a car of your own," he said.

She goggled.  "We can't afford that!" she said.

"I can.  A used one, anyway."

She stared at him.  

"You'd do that for me?" she asked weakly.

"I told you, silly, I love you.  I think you'd make a great doctor, and somebody from this family needs to go to college."

"No strings?" she asked, feeling her heart almost burst.

"None at all," said Bobby.

It wasn't until after the hug, that Suzie realized she hadn't been scared or nervous at all.  It had been a good hug.  She felt much better about things.

====================================

Mary's second child was also a boy.  Just as it was obvious that Jordan had been Bobby's baby, it was equally obvious, to those people who could tell, that Hamilton, Jordan's younger brother, had issued from Fred's loins.   While Mary never felt any guilt about letting her brother impregnate her, and was very happy that Fred was blissfully ignorant of that fact, she felt much better, now that her husband had fathered a child in her.

Of course, the fact that both her babies shared the same birthday caused an uproar.  When Linda got home with the news that everything had gone perfectly, and that mother and baby were both fine, it was only natural to center on the fact that Mary now had presented TWO April Fools babies to her husband.

She never once said that to Fred, though.  She didn't have to.  Everybody else they knew greeted him with "April Fools!" for months after both births, and for years afterward.

====================================

Meanwhile, during that April, Bobby was also taking care of the sexual needs of three other women.  Felicity Chumley and her maid, Annie, had due dates only two days apart.  Bobby was responsible for both of those babies, and the mothers-to-be were both ecstatic about that.  He had been seeing them each Friday, but they had allowed him to move to a different night, when he took his consulting job with Amanda Griggs, who ran the KDEF radio station in Hutchinson, sixty miles away.

Bobby was still making that drive twice a week too, to take care of Amanda.

It was getting harder and harder for Felicity and Annie to make love, as their pregnant bellies bulged ever larger.  Both babies were very active, and more than once, while one of them was sitting on Bobby's stiff prick, his baby had put a foot out, clearly visible as it moved under stretched skin.  Elbows were a frequent sight too, sliding across their bellies.

Christy Brown and Jill Trimble had already had Bobby's babies, and both were proud of them.  He still visited them almost once a week too.

Christy's husband came home, that April, from the Vietnam war.  She hadn't told him she'd had a baby.   Jillian was now eight months old, and the last time he'd been home had been in December of 1971.   They had stopped writing to each other, and it was obvious that the marriage was dead.   He offered to stay, because of Jillian, and Christy, who now ran a thriving photography studio, simply admitted that Jillian wasn't his.   He left, not telling her that a bad case of syphilis, caught from a whore in Vietnam, had made him sterile.

Christy mourned the death of the relationship, though, and Bobby spent hours with her, just holding her while she cried.

=======================================

As fate sometimes decrees, when one man came back from Vietnam, another received orders to go.  

The last thing that happened in April of that year was that Amanda Griggs missed a period.  She'd been expecting it ... anticipating it, even.   It was something she couldn't explain, even to her father.  She wasn't interested in getting married, but she wanted to have Bobby's baby.  She didn't even understand it herself.

But when she found out, Bobby was the first person she told.

=====================================

May was pretty routine, for Bobby.  June, though, threatened to be another month to remember.

On the ninth, two days before she was supposed to, Felicity went into labor.   It would be forever believed, in the Chumley household, that what sent her into labor was Annie's water breaking.   The ambulance carried them both to the hospital at the same time.  They went through labor in the same room, by their own request.  Annie actually delivered first, producing a perfectly formed little girl, who she promptly named Felicity, in honor of the woman who had brought the little girl's father into the house.

Barely an hour later, Felicity gave an exhausted sigh of relief and fell back, after her last push finally got a little boy out of her belly.  She named him Charles, after her husband's father.  Eighty-two-year-old Chester, her husband, sat patiently in the waiting room the whole time.  He was the first to hold "his" son, and the first to hand the baby to his wife.  The baby had black hair and a thick chest, just like Bobby.

Three days later, the same doctor and nurses delivered another baby boy, with black hair and a thick chest.   All of them noticed the resemblance between that baby, who was named Christopher, and baby Charles, who had just been sent home with his mother.   More than one eyebrow was raised in the delivery room, as Bev Gregory, formerly Bev Dalton, had this baby.

Within three days, when all of Bev's sisters had gotten to see and hold little Christopher, Susie Dalton got the chance to punch Bobby in the stomach.

"Bev TOO?!" she squealed.

Bobby hadn't been expecting it, but had been able to tighten up his abdominal muscles just as the blow hit.

"I'll never tell," he grinned.

=====================================

Another cause, in June, for celebration, mixed with remorse, was Tim Appleton coming home on leave after completing basic training in California.  He only had two weeks of leave, because he had orders to report to Officers Candidate School after that.  His orders further assigned him to Vietnam, upon successful completion of OCS. 

Constance had had eight weeks to think about things.  She met him at the bus and, after their first minute long kiss, said: "You have to marry me before you go!"   He didn't take much convincing.

During the week it took to make the arrangements, and get the documents in order, Tim spent most evenings at the Harris house.  The planning for the hasty wedding had already been made, before he got home, so no wedding planning was required.  What Constance concentrated on was getting pregnant before Tim left.   

Prudence simply spent her evenings with Mirriam.

Constances wedding looked like a repeat of Bev's, which wasn't strange, considering they were best friends.  All the Daltons were there, along with the president of the bank where Prudence worked, and a few other people.  The happy couple took off to spend Tim's remaining three days of leave in a hotel in Wichita, where nobody could bother them. 

=====================================

Back in Granger, Suzie wasn't the only one who was upset by the fact that Bev had obviously had Bobby's baby.  At least it was obvious to the Dalton clan.

Linda had held Christopher, and her heart had melted.   Bobby had satisfied her sexual needs for a year, powering his prick into her several times a week, until, after he'd given her two or three orgasms, he'd spurted her full of dangerous incestuous sperm.   She'd been on the pill the whole time; just to avoid consequences like the one she was holding in her arms.  Christopher looked so darling ... so tiny ... so perfect.  Linda wanted to do this ... to have a baby like this ... not Bobby's ... but one like it.

She had the opportunity to do that too.  She had been "engaged" to Paul Engle for almost four months, during which time he had taken over the enjoyable task of satisfying her craving for a hard prick in her pussy.    Graduation was over and summer was coming up.   Though they were completely committed to getting married, plans to that effect never seemed to be made, and the whole concept of marriage was still pretty vague.

Now, though, after Constance got married, and while Linda once again held little Christopher in her arms, it occurred to her that it was time.  She had graduated.  She was eighteen, and she knew what man was going to have the honor of putting a baby like this one in her belly. 

She resolved to talk to Paul about it that very night.

==================================

Linda's talk with him didn't go well.  In fact, it was disastrous.

"Honey," said Paul, looking completely flummoxed.  "We can't get married now!  I have to go to college!   We can't start a family until after that!"

"I can't wait THAT long!" she wailed.   "You'll be in college for four YEARS!  What am I supposed to do for four YEARS?!"

"Wait for me," he said.  It was perfectly logical in his mind.  "I'll graduate, and get a good job, so we can buy a house, and then you can have all the babies you want."

"I want a baby NOW!" she yelled.

"Where the hell did this come from?" he groaned.  "I thought you were perfectly happy with the way things are.  Isn't that why you're taking the pill?"

"It came from the fact that I thought you loved me and I want to have a BABY!" she yelled.  She thought that was perfectly logical too.  She'd found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.  It was time to get on with things.

"That's insane!" he said, still thinking he was being perfectly logical.  "We just finished high school.   I have a summer job, but we can't get married based on that.  You have to wait until I get a real Job, Linda."

Linda's frustration burst out of her.  "I don't want to wait YEARS to start having babies!  I want to live with you, and start having them now!  I thought you wanted to MARRY ME!" she wailed.

"We can't possibly do that!" he said, his voice rising.  "I'll barely be able to afford college now.  There's no way I could support a wife.  And with a baby in the house, I couldn't study either.  No.  It just can't happen like that."  His mind was made up.

Linda was stunned.  She'd had it all planned out.  He'd be delighted.  She'd already skipped her pill today, and didn't plan on taking another one, maybe ever again.  She'd expected him to go crazy for her, and try to make a baby in her this very night.

Her hope was displaced by anger, and the anger swelled and burst in her just as powerfully as passion would have, if things had gone the way she planned.

Letting anger get the best of you, in situations like this, is never the best thing to do.

"You don't love me!" she wailed.  "All I want is one little baby, and all YOU can think about is your stupid college.  You're probably going to go off and meet some stupid pretty girl, and make HER pregnant, instead of meeeeee!"  She ended in a wail of misery.

He reached for her, but she slapped at his hands.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed.  "GO ON.  GO OFF TO COLLEGE.  BUT DON'T EXPECT ME TO WAIT FOR YOU!"

She stormed out, leaving a thoroughly shocked Paul standing there.

Storming out, in situations like this, is never the best thing to do either.  It tends to send the signal that it's over.

All of Paul's prior insecurity ... those months when he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for this beautiful woman to walk away from him ... crushed in on him.  It was easy for him to believe it was over.

Linda, on the other hand, was miserable almost immediately.  She almost turned around and went back.  She had, very consciously, decided that Paul was THE one.   She was stubborn, though, and still mad, and that kept her walking.  She knew she couldn't go crawling back to him.  She knew she hadn't meant those things she'd said.  She WOULD wait for him, if she had to.  But she couldn't admit that to him.  Not yet, anyway.

====================================

Time heals many wounds, and reconnects many lovers.  It only reconnects them, though, when they seek each other out.  In this case, while school finished, neither Linda, nor Paul sought out the other, Paul because it was over, and Linda because she was too embarrassed.

The wound stayed open and raw.

=====================================
 
She went for two weeks.  But the fact of the matter was that Linda was used to being made love to regularly.  She loved sucking Paul's penis ... HAD loved sucking it ... and, before that, she had loved sucking Bobby's too.  Bobby had taught her everything she knew about having sex.  And she had, in turn, taught Paul.  

Her mother knew something was wrong.   In the past, she'd gone out almost every night with Paul.  Now, she sat at home, miserable.    Her mother offered to listen, but Linda knew there was no way she would understand, or sympathize.   She hadn't even told her mother that it was over, yet.   Her mother had had a rough life, raising eight children, mostly alone.  Whenever something had knocked her down, she'd just gotten up, knuckled down and gone on.  And that was what Linda decided she would have to do too.

The problem was she had no idea how to do that.  Should she get a job?  She was too heartbroken to start looking at other men.  Paul had been all shed ever wanted.    She couldn't even talk to Bobby, because he was hardly ever there anymore.   She'd known he'd been spending a night or two away from home, in the last six months, but, now that she was there all the time, she realized he was gone more than he was there!

It was while she was thinking about that, that the subject of her ruminations walked in the door.   He smiled at her.

"Hey, squirt," he said.  "I haven't seen you sitting around on a Wednesday night in a long time.  Paul busy?"

Her face told him more than words ever could have.

"Come on," he said.  "I need to change clothes, and you can tell me all about it while I'm doing that."

She was crying by the time they got to his room.  She didn't give him time to change out of his sweaty work clothes, but buried her face in his chest and sobbed.   Slowly, he got it out of her, bit by bit.

"I thought he loved meeee!" she wailed.

"He does love you," said Bobby.

"NO HE DOESN'T!" she yelled, pushing at him.  He wouldn't let her go.

"He's just trying to think of the future," said Bobby.

"But the future is so far away," she whined.

"That can't be helped," said Bobby.  "He'd be a fool to try to start a family with no job, no place to live, and school staring him in the face."

"YOU'RE ON HIS SIDE!" screamed Linda, pummeling at his chest with her fists.

She just happened to be wearing a skirt that day.  Bobby's recent dealings with Amanda Griggs had taught him a thing or two about an unruly woman, and he didn't hesitate.   He knew his mother's car was gone - she was probably over at Prudence's house.  Suzie wouldn't be home from summer school in Wichita until late.    He didn't know where the twins were, but even if they came in while he was doing what he planned, they'd probably just approve.

Linda had forgotten how strong her brother was.  She was reminded when he picked her up, bodily, sat on the bed, and flipped her across his lap.   Her skirt was up, and her panties pulled down off her buttocks quicker than she could react.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

He alternated cheeks, but that didn't ease the pain at all.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!" screamed Linda, flailing.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

His hand rose and fell quickly, but in a measured beat.

"OWWWW OWWWWW OWWWW OWWWW!" cried Linda.   She tried to put her hands behind her, to shield her tender bottom, but one was trapped, and whichever buttock she covered, he just slapped the other one.

She bawled, then, going limp, and, again, was unprepared for his strength as he pulled her around and up, to sit on his lap, with her legs hanging to the side of his.

"You're acting like a child," he said.  "So I treated you like one."

"Y-y-you SPANKED MEEEEE!" she wailed.

"Yes, I did," he said.   "Now, are you going to settle down and talk about this like an adult?"

"No!" she yelled.

He started to move her over his lap again and she struggled.

"OK, OK, OK!" she shouted.  "DON'T SPANK ME ANYMORE!"
 
He let her settle back down on his lap.  She leaned and tried to tug at her panties, which were still stretched, covering her front, but down in the back.

"You ruined my panties," she moaned.

"I did not," he said firmly.  "Stand up!"

She did and his hands went under her skirt.  She felt her panties being pulled down and looked down to see them at her ankles.

"Step out of them," he said.

She did that too, and he leaned over to pick them up.   Then he pulled her back on his lap, where she landed with a plop.   He held up the panties, which were none the worse for wear.

"Are they ruined?" he asked.

She closed her mouth tightly, and her chin jutted out.

"Linda, if I have to spank you again, I'm not stopping until I've given you twenty swats," he warned.

"No," she said, her voice surly.

"So," he said, dropping the panties in her lap.  "You believed something that wasn't true, and you're too stubborn to admit it."

"OK, OK," she said, flicking the panties with her fingertips.  "They're not ruined, OK?"

"Now, he said, his arm going around her waist.  "Let's talk about some other things you believe, that may not be true."

==================================

It took an hour, but he wore her down, making her admit to the truth of the situation.  She had to admit that the mere fact that she wanted to have a baby didn't mean that was the best course of action.  He made her admit that Paul HAD been thinking more rationally than she had.   He made her admit that she had walked out on Paul, and not the other way around, which is how she told it to him, originally.   He made her admit that there had never been serious discussions between her and Paul about when to get married, and how that might work out.  He made her admit that she had been thinking with her pussy, instead of her brain, and that it had been going on like that for months.

She cried, each time she had to admit something, but he wouldn't let up.  He never let her off his lap either, because he knew she needed to be held, as miserable as she was.

"Why are you doing this to me," she moaned, finally.

"Because," he said.  "I know you love Paul, and I know Paul loves you.  That's precious, baby, and you can't just throw it away because you're lying to yourself."

"I can't go crawling back to him," she moaned.

"That's your decision," he said.  "You have the right to end it, if that's what you really want to do.  But I won't let you lie to yourself, and blame it on him.  If you don't want to try to salvage this, that's your decision, but I want you to know it's YOUR decision."

"You're not making me feel any better," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.  She was tired ... dog tired.  "You used to make me feel so good."

"I always gave you what you needed," said Bobby, stroking her hair.  "Right now, this is what you need."

"What am I going to do?" she moaned.

"I don't know, baby," he sighed.

Suzie chose that moment to open Bobby's door.   Her brother HAD given her the money for summer school, and he HAD found her a somewhat beat up, but serviceable Volkswagen Beetle, to drive back and forth to Wichita in.   She had spent some time with him, and had lost all her fear that he had designs on her body.

"Bobby?" she called out, as she opened the door.  "Do you know where ... Oh!" she finished, as she saw Linda, sitting on Bobby's lap, and Linda's panties lying on the floor at Linda's feet.

"Uh ..." she said, flushing red.  "Excuse me."

"Wait!" said Linda, standing up.  She bent over and picked up her panties.  She looked at them and threw them in Bobby's lap.  "Do something with those, would you?" she said.  Not waiting for an answer, she turned to Suzie.   "Suzie, do you have time to talk to me?  I have this problem, and you're really smart.

=====================================

The reason she wanted to talk to Suzie was because, of all her sisters, Suzie knew Paul the best, and understood him in ways that Linda didn't think she ever would.  Paul was a genius, and Suzie wasn't far behind, if she was behind at all.  Both of them were science geeks, and Suzie had spent hours talking to Paul about all sorts of things that Linda didn't understand, and didn't want to understand.

Suzie, for her part, once she found out what had happened, forgot all about the panties.  Of all the boys she had known in high school, Paul was the only one who had been really interesting to her.  He was her sister's of course, so she didn't think about him the way most girls thought about most boys.  But he was fun and interesting to talk to and, on those rare occasions when she didn't understand something, he could invariably explain it to her.

She also knew how besotted he was with Linda, and that Linda passed up chances to go on dates with VERY popular guys, because she was just as besotted with Paul.

So, when it came to Paul and Linda, she was interested.

====================================

Bobby was lying on his bed.  It was late.  His mother was home, and he'd heard the twins talking as they walked by his room.  He was going to have to spend some time with them ... find out what they were up to.  Of all his sisters, they were the most independent; having had the chance to see five other older sisters make all the mistakes, and learn from them.

His door creaked open and Linda came back in.   She was in a long T shirt, and her legs were bare.  She came and sank down on the edge of his bed.

"Suzie agreed with you," she sighed.

"Suzie's a smart girl, he said, smiling.  "You OK now?"

"No," she sighed again.  "I still have to figure out what to do."

"There are always options out there that you haven't discovered yet," he said.  "For all I know, there may actually be a way for you to have things the way you want them.  You just have to go looking for answers that will solve the problems you face."

"I told Suzie you spanked me," she said, giggling.

"Why?"  He was clearly confused.

"She asked me about the panties.  She thought we were having sex or something."

"She's afraid I'll try to have sex with her," said Bobby.

"Not anymore," said Linda.  "We talked about that too."

"I'm glad, if she's not afraid anymore."

"She wanted to know why I let you do that."

"What did you tell her?" asked Bobby.

"I told her it was amazing, and fun, and felt good, and that it made me feel so loved."

"She'll feel that way about some guy some day," said Bobby.

"I don't know.  She kept coming up with logical reasons why it was silly to have sex with you."

"Oh," said Bobby.

"She's probably right about that too," said Linda.  She pulled the shirt over her head in one, quick movement.  She was naked beneath it.  "But I don't care.  Make me feel good again, Bobby ... please?

Two hours later, Linda felt good again.  She had a belly full of Bobby's spunk, and her clit didn't itch any more.  As she hobbled to her bedroom, two fingers keeping her from dripping on the floor, and got into bed, she wondered if being off the pill for two weeks was enough to make what had just happened ... dangerous.

Maybe tomorrow, she'd start taking them again.

Chapter Two

The latter part of June came with unseasonable heat, and humidity, because of rains that threatened to ruin the wheat farmers' harvest, but didn't quite.

Business was brisk at the country club pool, where the "elite" of Granger gathered.  As a watering hole, it was well stocked, and the pool was shaded, on one side, by old trees that had been saved when the pool was installed.

Elizabeth Sinderson, just having turned twenty-five, and married now for two years, to Jeff Sindersen, owner and operator of the Sinclair gas and service station on Jefferson street, lay on her chaise lounge in the sultry heat.   She was wearing a bikini that her husband had bought her, and insisted she wear, whenever they were at the country club pool.  Jeff was thirty seven, divorced once, and now remarried to his pretty young wife, of whom he was inordinately proud.   She had come in for gas one day, two years ago, and, wearing a nice summer dress that showed a LOT of her gorgeous legs, had parked at the full service pump instead of the self serve island.   Jeff had gone out to take care of her, since his other employees were busy making him money, working on cars.

Standing there, looking down the front of her dress, and at those legs, Jeff had gotten a boner.   The sweet young thing hadn't seemed to notice.

The fact was that Elizabeth HAD noticed, both his wandering eyes, and that boner.  She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and was on her way to a wedding, which made her feel a little sorry for herself.  On the rebound, she had enjoyed being ogled, and had gone back four times in the next week.  She'd had to drive around endlessly, just so she needed gas, for one of those times.  Twice, she was "worried about a tire".  The fourth time, when she complained of a "rattle" under the hood, he had finally suggested that maybe, after work, he could take a look at her car ... "You know ... kind of give her the once over ... to make sure everything is OK."

That had taken an hour and a half, which had involved him mostly standing by her car, and talking to her.   When he was done with the car, he had suggested coffee.  She had countered with dinner.  Two weeks later, she was straining under him as his penis soothed her emptiness.   Two months after that, they were married.

She loved him, or at least she thought she loved him.  She wasn't at all sure she knew what love felt like.  He was a good provider, and a nice guy, even if he was older than her.  The sex was good, or at least she thought the sex was good.  She'd only had one other lover to compare him to, and both of them were pretty much the same ... "quick out of the gate, but without much wind," as her grandfather would have said.   He raised horses all his life.

She'd been able to quit her job, which was a great thing, from her perspective, and her car had never run better.  All in all, things seemed pretty OK to Elizabeth Sinderson.   There was only one tiny glitch in what she thought of as her happy life, or what she believed was her happy life.

That little glitch was something she had known about when she married him.  He had even told her.  It was what had caused his previous wife to take off and leave him with the house, two cars, and all the furniture.  She had been quite sure that it wouldn't be a problem for her, though.

Jeff had been proud of his first wife too.  Hed loved nothing more than walking beside her, while other men lusted after her.  He had bought her slinky clothes too, like the bikini Liz was wearing right now ... a wispy thing that covered her, but left little to the imagination.  He had paraded her in front of his friends, and even strangers, taking her to other towns, where she was encouraged to accept the dance offers of strangers.

One of those strangers had taken her away from him.

He was quite honest about it, when they were courting.  He admitted to Liz that he'd made horrible mistakes.  At the same time, he'd admitted that he couldn't get that little kink out of his psyche.  He'd promised her that he wouldn't ask her to do things like that, and he'd tried, very hard, not to.  She knew that.   But she also knew that, whenever they were out, and men looked her up and down, and undressed her in their minds, like lots of men seemed all too eager to do, Jeff's lovemaking, when they got home, was more ardent, by far, than when they just had a quiet evening out.

That's why she wore the bikini at the country club.  She wore it for Jeff, even though he was usually watching the men, to see if they were looking at her.   He was doing that right now, sitting at a table with his friends, smoking cigars, and drinking brandy.

She rolled her head toward her friend, Miranda Tibbs, who was a year younger than she was.  They had gone to school together, been separated, and then re-united at the club, all these years later.

"They're watching us again," she said, reaching for her iced tea.

"Of course they are," said Miranda.  "We're gorgeous."

Liz laughed.  "You like it, don't you?"

"Don't you?"

"I guess so," said Liz.  "It just isn't what I thought married life would be like.  Before I got married, I would have worn something like this to catch a man.  It just feels odd, somehow, to be wearing it now."

"Why do you wear it?" asked Miranda, who was in a one piece suit that clung to her like a second skin.

"Jeff likes it," said Liz.

"My husband would kill me if I wore something like that," said Miranda.   "He made me put extra cloth in the bra of this suit, so my nipples wouldn't show."

"Jeff's not like that," said Liz.   "He likes it when men look at me.  It excites him."

"You're a lucky girl," said her friend.  "Dick would be so jealous he'd pop a vein or something."

"Dick is one of the men looking at us," said Liz.

"He's a horny old goat," said Miranda, about her twenty-seven-year-old husband.   

"Well," said Liz.  "So is Jeff, but he's a lot hornier if men have been looking at me."

"That must be fun for you," said Miranda.

"It's just weird, that's all," said Liz.  "You're my friend ... right?"

"Of course," said Miranda, leaning forward.  That kind of comment usually led to something interesting, and she was ... interested.

"I mean, if I told you something ... about Jeff and me ... it wouldn't go any farther ... right?"

"I'm hurt that you'd even think it could," said Miranda, REALLY interested now.

"Jeff likes more than just having men look at me," said Liz, tentatively.

"You mean he wants men to ... do things ... to you?"

"He would," said Liz.  "I mean I've never done that, except to dance with a stranger, now and then, or something like that.   It makes him crazy in bed when I do, though.   But that's why Sally left him.   She had an affair with some guy, because Jeff wanted her to, but then she decided she like that guy more than Jeff."

"Wow," said Miranda.

"And I don't want to have an affair anyway, but he fantasizes about it a lot.  He hasn't asked me to do anything - I think he's scared the same thing will happen with me as happened with Sally - but I know it excites him.  Isn't that weird?"

"Yes," said Miranda immediately, followed by, "but it makes me hot too, to think about it.  I mean, getting to be frisky with some hot stud would be fun, if it didn't go too far, you know?"

"I don't know about that, but I know that if something like that happened, he'd just be insane in bed.  And I like THAT idea just fine!"

"What you need to do is find you some guy who will pay some attention to you, but that you can pull the plug on if things go too far," said Miranda.  "Wouldn't that be wonderful?  To have a boy toy to play with ... just a little ... and get your husband going?"

"Like men like that exist," laughed Liz.

"I don't know," said Miranda, drawing out the "ow" and making it sound like "ohhhh".   She leaned closer to Liz.  "There are rumors, you know ... like about Felicity Chumley?"

"Of course there are rumors about Felicity Chumley," said Liz.  Her husband is eighty-something and she just had a baby!"

"Well, I think I know who might have done that," whispered Miranda.  "I think it's somebody I know ... and that YOU know too!"  She sounded excited.

"Who!?" gasped Liz.  She was just as addicted to gossip as anybody else.

"Remember in school, that dreamy Bobby guy?  He sort of kept to himself a lot ... had all those sisters?"

"Bobby Dalton?" asked Liz.  "No way!  He was so shy that one time, when I asked him a question, he almost ran off."

"What question did you ask him?" giggled Miranda.  "How big is it?"

Liz reached out to slap at her friend's arm.

"Of course not.  It was something about when an assembly was, or something like that.   He just looked at me and told me the time and then was off like a shot."  Liz frowned.  "It couldn't be him.  What makes you think it is?"

"I keep hearing his name.  He's a handyman, you know.  He's been in practically everybody's house in town.  He can fix anything, apparently.  But it's how his name is said that made my ears prick up."  Miranda frowned too.  "I've asked several women about him, but they clam up."

"Miranda!" chided Liz.  "Don't tell me you're looking to have an affair!"

"Of course not," said Miranda.  "Dick is all the man I need.  Still ..." she seemed to be thinking.  "Its always fun to have a man pant after you."

"I can't imagine Bobby Dalton panting after anybody," said Liz.  "He was like a scared rabbit."

"Well, think about it," said Miranda.  "You were the head cheerleader, only the most popular girl in school.  Every guy in the place probably fantasized about you when they went home, hid in a closet and beat off."

Liz flushed.  "You're horrible!" she hissed.  

"Hey, I'm just saying," said Miranda.  "I was jealous as hell of you, back then.  Still am sometimes, for that matter."

"You're my best friend!" said Liz, almost sitting up.

"That I am, Lizzy," said Miranda, rubbing sun tanning lotion on her arms and neck.  "But that doesn't mean I don't admit to the facts.  Every man around here is staring this way, and I don't think it's to try to see the nipples that Dick is so hot to have me keep hidden."

==============================================

That night, Liz crawled into bed with her husband.

"Did you have fun seeing all those men ogling me at the pool?" she asked, sliding her hand across his chest.

"It was hot," he sighed.  "I'm so lucky to have you.  I'm hornier than a three antlered moose right now."

"Well do something about it, then," she said.

"I can't," he moaned.  "I used the last condom, and forgot to get more.  Couldn't you please just go on the pill or something?"

"Honey," she crooned in his ear.  "You know they make me retain water.  I look all puffy and fat when I take them.  Then nobody would want to look at me."

"We could have a baby," he said, hopefully.

"And ruin this perfect figure?" she asked, pulling her hand back to her naked breast and cupping it.  "You want these to get all swollen and full of milk, and make me look like a cow?"

"You'd look so good pregnant," he sighed.

"With my stomach out to here?" she squealed, holding her hand a foot away from her flat abdomen.

"Yeah," he sighed, "and with your breasts full of milk.  MAN!  That would be so fine!"

"Well," she said, we can talk about that later.  Right now you can put your nasty old naked cock in me, and make me feel good, but you have to pull out and shoot it on my stomach, OK?"

"Ohhhh baby," he groaned, as he rolled over and got into position.

It was good for both of them.   This was only the second time since they got married that he was in her without protection, and they both felt the difference.  Both liked it a lot, but he honored her demand, and when the time came, he pulled out and jacked off on her belly button.

The only problem was that she'd been just about to have an orgasm when he did that, and, when the sensations in her pussy stopped, she was disappointed.  She liked the feel of his warm spend on her stomach, and she rubbed it all over her, but she also had to slide a hand down and finish what he had left unfinished.   She was careful not to slide a spermy finger into her pussy, but she WAS able to flick her clitty and have that orgasm.

As usual, he rolled over and fell asleep almost immediately and, as usual, she lay and stared at the ceiling in the dark.  Sex didn't make her sleepy.  If anything, it woke her up.  She got up, went to the guest bathroom and ran the water until it was warm.  Then, using a wash cloth, she cleaned up.  

She had to sit on the toilet and rub off again, before she felt satisfied.

Then she went to the living room, still naked, closed the drapes, turned on the light on an end table, and picked up the book she was currently reading.  She read four chapters before she felt sleepy and rejoined her husband.   She would have read more, but she kept thinking about what Miranda had said about Felicity and Bobby Dalton.   There hadn't been a divorce, and that had caused almost as much gossip as the fact that she had gotten pregnant in the first place.   Something must have gone on there.  Maybe it was like what Jeff liked.  Maybe Chester Chumley, since he probably couldn't do anything himself, had gotten excited when Felicity was ... paid attention to ... by another man.

She couldn't just go up to Bobby Dalton and ask him if he'd do something like that.   How in the world could she even broach the subject?

And Bobby Dalton wasnt the only reason she couldnt pay attention to the words on the pages of the book she was trying to read.   Jeff was going to have a birthday in two weeks.  She'd always had trouble trying to figure out what to get him for his birthdays.  He had enough ties and cologne and tools.  He didn't wear much jewelry.  She'd never had to choose presents for a husband.  Christmas was hard enough, but his birthdays were the worst.   Well, to be honest, anniversaries were just as bad.   Their third wedding anniversary was also coming up, though it was still two months away.

===========================================

It was purely by chance that Elizabeth Sinderson ran into Felicity Chumley at the grocery store.   Normally, Felicity's maid, Annie, did the shopping, because she worked with Ramona in the kitchen.  But Annie was taking care of the babies, Charles and Felicity (sometimes called Felicity Jr.).  They took turns being nannies, and Felicity had begun doing some of the work that Annie usually did, when Annie was taking care of the children.  She had decided not to hire a full time nanny, for the simple reason that she and Annie liked taking care of their babies themselves.

Felicity saw Liz, whom she knew from the country club, and said "Hi."

Liz, who had been thinking about Felicity, and Bobby, just stared.

"Is anything wrong?" asked Felicity, seeing the woman looking almost ill.

"No," said Liz.  "Could I ask you a question?"

"Of course," said Felicity.

"I can't, really," said Liz, as she blushed brighter.  "It would be rude."

"Maybe I could be the judge of that," said Felicity.

"Do you have time for coffee?" asked Liz.

"That wasn't rude at all," said Felicity, smiling.

"I didn't mean ... that wasn't the question ..." stammered Liz.

"And you want to ask me the question over coffee?" asked Felicity.

"If you have time," said Liz, feeling foolish.

"Well, as long as the cold things don't sit too long in the car, I guess I could take time for coffee," said Felicity.

They finished shopping and Liz followed Felicity to the Wagonwheel.  Once installed in a booth, Felicity looked expectantly at Liz.

"I'm not trying to pry," said Liz, trying to find a way to broach the subject.  "But I have this problem ... sort of ... and you might know the man who could ... help me."

"I'm listening," said Felicity.

"I'm really not trying to pry," said Liz.  "Please believe that.   I need to know if you know anybody who might ... um ... well ... be available for ... something like a date."

"Something like a date," Felicity repeated.  

Felicity's face had closed down.  More than one woman, and a couple of men, had beaten around the bush, trying to find out who Charles' father was.   They had no need to know that, and she knew they were just curious gossips.   She had never told anyone who lived in Granger.  She'd been nervous about telling Amanda Griggs about him, but that had worked out well, according to Bobby.

But this woman didn't seem to be digging for that reason.  She was looking for a man.

"You're married," said Felicity.  Her voice was flat, with no emotion in it at all.

"You are too," said Elizabeth.   "I can't explain what I need ... not to you ... and I'm not asking you to tell me anything about you.  It's just that I can't just go out and pick up a man ... not for what I need.  She rolled her eyes and here face twisted.  This is so embarrassing," she moaned.

"Look," said Felicity.  "What you're asking for is something that a lot of people would like to know.   I'm not interested in sharing that part of my life with ... people.  It was a private decision, and isn't anybody's business but mine and Chester's."  She winced.  That gave away the fact that Chester had been involved.  She wished she'd just gotten up and walked away.   But something in Liz's face told her that Liz wasn't just after gossip.  

"Please," said Liz.  "I'll tell you something I don't want anybody else to know.  I don't know if you'll understand, but I don't know what else to do.  I want to do something special for Jeff, and it has to be soon, because it's for his birthday.  But ... well ... it's ... unusual.   The only reason I'm asking you is because you did something unusual too."

"You want to have an affair?" asked Felicity.  She winced at that too.  That was almost an admission that she'd had an affair.  She didn't think about it that way at all, but that's how most people would view it.

"Not an affair, really.  I don't want that much.  But ..." she looked around, and lowered her voice.  "Jeff gets excited when another man looks at me or ... touches me."  She paled.  "All I've ever done is dance with other men, in bars, but I don't really like that.  It's kind of scary.   So I thought maybe I could find a man to do some things ... at our house.  But I can't just pick up a stranger.  It would have to be somebody I can trust."  She looked down.  "This is SO embarrassing!"

Felicity was intrigued.   She had to be telling the truth.  To say something like that about one's husband, if it wasn't true, was almost like asking for trouble.  Felicity understood precisely how dangerous Liz's admission was.  If it was made to the wrong person, rumors would run rampant.  That she had trusted Felicity was something both interesting and important, at least to Felicity.

"What you're saying is that you want to hire a man who will do what he's told, and stop when he's told to stop."   There it was.  She had put it on the table, and it could never be taken back.

"Hire?" Liz looked shocked.   

Felicity wondered if she'd just made a terrible mistake.  While she had originally hired Bobby, what had happened had not been part of that deal.  And, while her husband had paid him for what had then happened, it had been a gesture of thanks, rather than a business deal.

"If you want specific things," said Felicity, "It is best to have them provided under a contract, of sorts.  There is more control, and less room for error."  She sipped her coffee.  "Say, for instance, that you have this imaginary man come to your house, and you're ready for him to leave.   A man who was there for his own purposes might be reluctant to go.   A man you have hired to provide certain services would simply leave, because his job was finished."

"Oh," squeaked Liz.  "But ... that sounds so ... I don't know ... cold?  Emotionless?"

"That would depend on the man," said Felicity.  "Let's just say that a little birdie told me that such a thing can work out to everyone's satisfaction, and it isn't emotionless at all.  It has to be the right man, though." 

"Oh," said Liz, relaxing a little.  "Would your little birdie be willing to suggest who the right man is?"

"You're asking for a significant, and very important piece of personal information," said Felicity.  "I can't help but be a little nervous about that.  I have to live in this town, and people talk about me enough as it is."

"You think I want to admit to the public that I needed to hire a man ... to make my own husband happy?" asked Liz, her voice barely audible.  "You could ruin both our lives with what you already know!"

"I guess you're right," said Felicity.  "OK.  But I have to talk to him first.  I can't just give out his name without talking to him first."

"I guess he could get in trouble too," said Liz.  "I mean it's kind of like ... prostitution, isn't it?"

"It's nothing like prostitution," said Felicity her voice tight.  "It would take me literally hours to explain that, but I can tell you it is nothing like what you're thinking about."

"Actually, that makes me feel a little better," said Liz.  "Will you talk to him?"

"I'll do that," said Felicity.

"What should I do?" asked Liz.

"Nothing.  Just wait.  Either I'll call you, or he will.  And don't worry if he calls.  If I know him, and he decides to talk to you, that's all that will happen at first.  You'll see him and talk to him for hours before anything physical happens.   He may talk to you, and decide that what you want is not a good idea.  You have to understand that.  I'm not making any promises of any kind here."

"But ... if I hire him ... Liz seemed confused.

"Just wait," said Felicity.  "I can't explain it to you, but you'll understand, if he decides to ... negotiate.  That's all I can tell you.  It's not like hiring somebody to wash your car. It's much more complicated than that.  But that's what makes it so much better too.  Believe me.  If he agrees to work with you, you'll never be sorry."

"You've never been sorry?" asked Liz.

Felicity knew what she was talking about.  Everybody thought little Charles was an accident ... a mistake ... something that caused her to get "caught" in an affair by her elderly husband.

"I've never been sorry about anything this man did for me," she said firmly.

They got up to leave, and Felicity dropped a five dollar bill by the cash register.

"Thank you," said Liz.

"It was just coffee," said Felicity.

"No, I mean for listening to me ... for being willing to help me.  I was afraid you'd think I'm some kind of slut or that Jeff is some kind of pervert, or something."

"A year ago, I might have thought all those things," said Felicity.  "That's another thing you need to know about this man ... if he works with you.  Your life will likely change.  He has a way of seeing things, and changing things."

"I love my husband," said Liz.  "I wouldn't be doing this, except for him."

"You'll still love your husband," said Felicity.  "In fact, you might even end up loving him more."

"I only have two weeks," said Liz.

"Oh, I'll call you tomorrow at the latest," said Felicity.

=====================================

The reason Felicity knew she'd call Liz the next day, was because she was already going to see Bobby that night.  Since the babies had been born, she and Annie had cut back seeing Bobby only at specific times of each month.  That was simply because, while they loved their babies, and they loved the father of those babies, they weren't quite ready to get pregnant again.  Bobby did not use birth control.   Both women were breast feeding, and that was thought to give some protection from pregnancy, but it was better to plan when they would be exposed to the sperm that had already impregnated them once.

Tonight was Felicity's first time with Bobby this month, and she was looking forward to it.  They would talk between times, and she would talk to him about Liz then.

======================================

Felicity lay on her side, her naked body molded to Bobby, who was facing her.

"I like it when you're rough with me sometimes," she sighed.  He had been rough with her ... this first time.  She knew he'd be tender, later on.  He was already being tender, giving her sweet, gentle kisses. 

He leaned forward to lick and suck at one of her leaking nipples.

"I love your milk," he said.

"I'm trying to wean Charles," she said, pulling his head to her breast.  "I'll never get my breasts to stop producing, though, if you keep making them produce more milk."

"Are you cutting me off?" he asked, trying to sound like he was pouting.

"No," she said, moving his mouth to her other nipple.  "I'm asking you to cooperate with me."

"I bet Chester's not cooperating with you," he said, licking drops of milk off her nipple.

"No, he's not," said Felicity.  "If he had his way, I'd produce milk for years."

"Smart man," said Bobby.   "You ready to go again?"

"Yes," she said, "but I want to talk to you first."

"What about?" he asked.

"Another woman," she said.

"Well, well, well," he said, grinning.  "And here I thought you were jealous of Amanda."

"I don't own you," she said.

"Why are you always so wild when I mention one of the other women?" he asked, grinning wider.

"OK, so I'm a little jealous of them.  There.  Are you happy now?  Why do men have to be that way?"

"I just want to keep you interested.  You're one of my favorites."

She pushed him away from her.

"You keep talking like that and I may wean you too!"

"I give up!" he said, in mock terror.  "Tell me about this other woman." 

"Her name is Elizabeth Sinderson," said Felicity.

"I know her," said Bobby.  "I went to school with her."

"Apparently, her husband gets his kicks from seeing her rub up against other men."

"She just wants me to rub up against her?" asked Bobby.

"That's what she made it sound like," said Felicity.  "She wants to give ... something ... to him for his birthday.  She was pretty embarrassed about telling me."

"Wow," said Bobby.  "I've heard of stuff like that, but I never thought I'd see it in Granger."  He thought for a minute.  "Why did she talk to you about it?"

"I think that she assumed that whoever got me pregnant might be willing to do something with her too.   It's hard to describe her behavior.  She was nervous, embarrassed and excited all at the same time.  She said something about not wanting to just troll for a man in a bar."

"Did you tell her who I was?" he asked.

"Of course not," she said.  "I told her I'd talk to you.  I also told her there were no guarantees that you'd do anything."

"Is she trustworthy?" asked Bobby.   

"She's not in any position for word of her husband's little secret to get out," said Felicity.  "I told her she'd have to hire you."

"You know I'm not in this for money," said Bobby.

"Yeah, but it makes us women feel so much more in control when we're dealing with an employee, rather than a handsome stud."

"You think you were in control?"  He grinned.

"I did then," she said, pulling him to her.   "And I am right now.  I want to be on top this time."

"Yes, boss lady," said Bobby, rolling to his back.  "Whatever you say, boss lady."

Rather than yell at him, she acted the part, telling him what to do, and what not to do, as she had two more orgasms on top of him.  Her bossing resulted in him saying "I quit!" eventually.  Then he rolled her over and gave her two more orgasms, the way he wanted to, before spurting in her again.

As she drifted to sleep, in his arms, she couldn't get over how much she loved the hot, heavy feel of his sperm in her belly.

==========================================

It was eight in the morning when Elizabeth, never willing to get up early, was dragged from bed by the phone ringing insistently.   Jeff was already at work.

"What!?" she groused into the phone.

"Liz?  Felicity Chumley, here," said a female voice into Liz's ear.  Liz perked up instantly.  

"I'm sorry," she said.  "I'm not a morning person."

"I could call back later," said Felicity.

"No, of course not," said Liz, full of nervous anticipation now.  "I should learn to be civil in the morning anyway."

"What do you have in the house that's broken?" asked Felicity.

"I don't understand," replied Liz.

"Something in your house is broken, or doesn't work correctly," said Felicity.  "It happens to everybody.  What's wrong at your house?"

Liz was having trouble thinking, and this wasn't fitting her expectations.  The first thing that came to mind was the handle of the door on the china cabinet.  That had fallen off a year ago, and was still lying on the shelf next to the good plates.

"The handle fell off my hutch," she said.  "Is that the kind of thing you're talking about?"

"Perfect," said Felicity.  "I know the best man in town to address your ... problems."

"I'm very awake now," said Liz, realizing at last what was going on.  "And I want my china hutch fixed by the best man in town."

"Here's his number," said Felicity, who said the numbers twice.  "His name is Bobby Dalton.  I believe you two went to school together."

"Bobby Dalton?!" yipped Liz.  "That's what Miranda thought too!"

"What are you talking about?" came Felicity's heavy voice.

"I talked to Miranda - she's my best friend - about all this before I talked to you.  She seemed to think Bobby might have ... I mean that you might know him," she finished, embarrassed.

"Please tell your friend that it wouldn't do either you or me any good if such rumors were to circulate.   He's a good man, Liz.  You'll understand after you talk to him.  Don't make the mistake of having preconceived notions about what he's like.  I did that, and it was very uncomfortable for me.  It caused problems that didn't need to be caused."

"I'll tell her," said Liz, immediately.

"Please do, said Felicity.  His name, my name, and your name don't need to be dragged through the mud."

"No!" yipped Elizabeth.  "Of course not!"

"If you can think of other things you need repaired too, you might as well.  He'll probably find them anyway, and he charges by the hour, with a one hour minimum, so you may as well get your money's worth.

"He charges by the hour?" gasped Liz.

"He's a repairman," said Felicity.  "And he's a good one too.  If you have him tied up ... for whatever reason ... he's going to charge you for his time."

"OK," said Liz, trying to figure out if there were any hidden messages in what Felicity had just said.  "Thanks."

"You're welcome," said Felicity.  "I hope referring you to him wasn't a mistake.  I like him, Liz.  Like I said, he's a good man, and he does NOT deserve trouble."

"It isn't a mistake!" said Liz. "I promise."

"We'll see," said Felicity.  "Perhaps I'll call you later, to see how things went."

"That would be great," said Liz.  She heard the click that told her Felicity had hung up.

Liz stared at the name and number on the paper.  Bobby Dalton!  Poor, shy, scared-like-a-rabbit Bobby Dalton.  She could hardly believe it.   

Still, that was even better.  

She was quite sure she could control Bobby Dalton.

Chapter Three

Elizabeth's first call to Bobby was both terrifying and exciting for her.  It felt terrifying to call a man, knowing she was going to talk to him about hiring him for sex.  It was exciting for the same reason.

Liz DID remember Bobby Dalton.  He'd been cute, back then.  She remembered him as smiling a lot, which caused her to wonder why she remembered him so well, because they'd only spoken that one time.  She'd been busy with pep club, and cheerleading activities, and classes, and boyfriends.  She was on all the committees for social events, such as planning and decorating for dances, and fund raisers for the pep club and all that.   She didn't remember Bobby being at many dances or other extracurricular events.

Another thing that made it terrifying was that she didn't know whether or not he knew why she was really calling him.  Felicity had said she had to talk to him first.  Did he know that, when she called, it would be about sex, even though she was going to ask him to fix something?   Would he expect her to have sex with him?   That wasn't what she wanted.  She just wanted to titillate Jeff ... to get him going.

As she heard the phone ringing at the other end, she almost hung up, but, as she was thinking about that, a bright female voice answered.

"Dalton residence, this is Matilda speaking."

"Oh ... hi," said Liz.  "This is Elizabeth Sinderson.  I was trying to reach Bobby Dalton ... about a repair I need done."

"OK," said the cheerful voice.  "I'll try to find him.  He might be out in the chicken coop.  Hang on."

While she waited, she thought about hanging up too.  Chicken coop?  Why would a grown man be spending time in a chicken coop?  What would he say?  What would SHE say?   She half expected a male voice to come on the phone, gloating, saying something crude, like "Hey, baby, why did it take you so long to call me?  I've wanted to get in your panties for ages."

"Hello," came a deep voice.

That was it ... just "Hello".  She felt a shiver of anticipation.  His voice seemed to strum some chord in her body.

"Hi," she said.  "This is Elizabeth Sinderson."  She waited, not knowing what else to say.  She felt tongue tied.

"Hi," said the deep voice.  "Mrs. Chumley said you might call.  What can I do for you?"

He sounded so urbane.  Had this man really just been in a chicken coop?

"Um ... there are some things broken," she said.  "Around the house," she added, feeling foolish.   

"Well, I could come by and see if they're the kinds of things I can fix," he said.

"That would be good," she said, weakly.

"How about this afternoon?" he asked.

"OK," she said, feeling like a little girl, for some reason.  "I'll see you then."

She hung up.  Her hand was trembling.  She felt like she had just made some kind of horrible mistake.    She worried about it all morning, and found herself doing the same things over and over again.  She changed the towel on the rack in the kitchen three times, and, the last time, tugged on it so hard, while she was straightening it, that one of the two anchors pulled off the wall.  The rod slipped out of the other side and the whole thing went clanging to the floor.

Then she couldn't decide what to wear when he came.  When WOULD he come?   She was still trying to decide whether to wear jeans and the blouse she already had on, or a skirt, when the doorbell rang.  She dropped the skirt in her hands, in her nervous reaction.  She was so rattled that she just left it lying on the floor and found herself running to the door.  She opened it ... and there he was.

=================================

Bobby remembered Elizabeth.  Everybody probably remembered her.  She had been a whirlwind of activity while he was in school.  She was involved in everything, and he saw her everywhere.  He remembered her as one of those girls that most guys dream about, but never expect to actually interact with.  She was pretty, popular, always had a boyfriend, and was moving so fast that she didn't notice him.

She was still pretty, though she wasn't the drop dead gorgeous woman he expected.   She was obviously older, though he couldn't put his finger on anything that made her look that way.   She still looked like he remembered her.  Of course that had only been seven years ago, so maybe that wasn't so strange.   She looked nervous, and was panting.

She stood there, looking at him with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights.  He recognized that look.  She was scared.  He almost smiled.  Why was it that women were so nervous around him?  Surely it wasn't the sex thing.  This woman had had her pick of boys.  She'd probably had more sex by the time they'd graduated than he'd had since then.

"Hi," he said, breaking the silence.  "I brought my tools, just in case."  He lifted the strap of the tool bag off his shoulder, and gripped the handles.  He smiled.

"Oh!  Of course!" she said, nervously. 

She stepped back and he stepped in.  She was still staring at him.

=================================

This was NOT the boy she remembered.  She remembered a tallish boy, not thin, but not big either, who smiled shyly and never said much.  She was sure she'd been in at least one class with him, but she couldn't remember which one.  He had been ... unnoticeable.

He was anything but unnoticeable now.   He was more than "tallish", standing four inches over her own height.   His shoulders looked like a brick wall, filling the doorway.   She hadn't known he had blue eyes.   His hair had that slightly shaggy look, of a man needing a trim, except you wouldn't want him to get one.  A lock of hair had fallen forward on his forehead.   And that smile!   It had made her knees weak.

She tried to get a grip on herself.   This was just a man she'd known in high school.  Well, hadn't known ... but had been familiar with anyway.   It had to be this sex thing that was making this so strange.  Surely he wouldn't affect her like this if she just bumped into him on the street.

"So," he said.  "Why don't you show me the things that need repair."

She blushed.

"I'm sorry," she said.  "It's just that you don't look much like I remember you."

He laughed.  "Farm work has a tendency to put muscle on," he said.  "You don't look like you've changed a bit, though."

"Me?" she said.  "I'm surprised you even remember me."

"Of course I remember you," he said, the smile leaving his face.  "Everybody in school remembers you."

She had just been chastised, and she knew it.  But he hadn't been mean about it.  And, truth to tell, she hadn't actually meant what she'd said.  It was just one of those things you say to generate conversation.

"I'm sorry," she said.  "I'm just nervous."

"Well, you don't need to be nervous because of me," he said, smiling again.   

She felt calmer.  For some reason, she believed him.   He hadn't postured, or bragged, or done any of the things she associated with men who thought the sun rose and set on their masculinity.   He hadn't barged in and suggested that he needed to see her bedroom.  He hadn't said she should get naked.  He hadn't even, come to think of it, let his eyes rake up and down her body!

She had just naturally gravitated to the dining room, where the china cabinet was.  She picked up the piece of the handle that had fallen off and held it out to him.

He ignored her and examined the two pieces.  He got into his tool bag and came out with what she knew was a pair of vice grips.  The piece that had fallen off was a circle of metal that had dangled from a loop screwed onto the door of the hutch.  That loop wasn't a complete circle, and had spread apart, allowing the finger pull to drop out.  He simply inserted the finger pull back in the loop and used the vice grips to squeeze it closed again.   Just like that, it was fixed.

"Next?" he asked, smiling at her.

She thought of the towel bar in the kitchen that she had just broken, and took him there.   When was he going to ask her about the sex?

"I think the screw set that holds this side on just worked loose," he said. 

 He took what she had thought was a pen from his pocket, and she realized it was a tiny screwdriver, with a clip, like a ball point pen had, that clipped it to a pocket.   He reassembled the parts of the towel rack, had her help him hold it all in place, and used the screwdriver underneath somewhere.  When he let go, it was back on the wall again.

A drawer that squeaked got pulled out and he used her own hand soap to lubricate the parts that rubbed against each other.  She found that it was fun to watch him analyze a problem and come up with a solution she never would have thought of.

She was watching him pulling the hinge pins from a squeaky door and oiling them, when he caught her unawares.

"So, tell me about your husband."

The nervousness crashed back in on her.  He HAD been thinking about the other reason he was there.   He DID know there was another reason.   That made his prior behavior even more confusing.    For a man who ... supplied sex ... he didn't act very ... sexual!

"This is so strange," she said.  "I'm really embarrassed about this."

He kept his eyes on the door.

"You don't need to be embarrassed," he said.  "From what I understand, there are lots of men who get a thrill out of having a sexy wife, and knowing that other men see her that way."

"It seems odd to me," she said, before she could stop herself.  He seemed to be taking this so calmly.   This was NOT the shy boy she remembered.

He stood up, a hinge pin in his fingers, and looked at her.

"When you go out in public ... say to the grocery store ... do you put on makeup first?"

She blinked.  "Sure," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"I want to look nice," she said, thinking that was obvious.  Why did women ever wear makeup?  They wanted to look nice!

"OK," he said.   "But why do you want to look nice?"

"That's a silly question," she said automatically.  

"No it's not," he said, his voice calm.   "When you weren't married, you wanted to look nice to catch a man's eye.  But you got your man.  You have him now.  Why do you want to look nice for strangers?"

"I don't know!" she said, feeling some frustration.  Why was he asking her these questions?

"It's normal to want to look attractive," he said.  "I'm not trying to suggest otherwise.  I just want you to think about it.   Do you try to look nice for the women who will see you?"

"No," she said.  She frowned.  "At least I don't think so."  Something about that nagged at her a little bit.  "Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Well," he said.  "I think about things from a male perspective.  I don't really understand women very well, even though I've lived with eight of them for most of my life.   It's just that I think your husband is reacting to things the same way you are, really.  I mean you want to look nice, and be attractive.  He wants you to look nice and be attractive too.   Most women won't admit it, but I think one reason they want to look nice is so that men will notice them.  It makes them feel good.   Your husband just enjoys that too.  When other men notice you, he feels proud, because just like you got him, as a husband, he got you too."

She thought about that.  It sounded so reasonable.

"I've never really thought about it like that," she said.

"I don't know if I'm right or not," he said.  "Like I said, I'm a man.  What I CAN tell you is that if I'm out with a woman, and other men are interested in her, it kind of makes me proud that she's with me ... that she chose me ... instead of one of them."

That made sense too.  But there was a disconnect there.

"OK," she said.  "I get that part.  But why would he want me to do things with other men, when I chose him to be my husband?"

"Well," said Bobby.  "I don't understand that part either, except that, in the end, you always go back to him.  Maybe he gets excited that with all the other men available ... with the temptation there ... you always choose to stay with him."  He put the hinge pin back in the hinge and moved the door.  It didn't squeak any more.

"Maybe it strokes his ego when another man tempts you, but you choose to stay with him," said Bobby.

"But I'm not tempted by these other men," she said.  "I dance with them and things like that, because I know it gets Jeff excited ... that he likes that ... but I don't want to do anything with them."

"Maybe that's what makes it so exciting for him," said Bobby.  "A man is always worried that some other man may come along and steal his girl away.  Every time you don't let that happen, it makes him feel great."

"Wow!" she said.  "That actually makes sense!  Maybe you're right!"

"I'm just saying that I don't think he's all that odd," said Bobby.  "He just acts it out in a way most men wouldn't have the courage to."

"I would never have characterized what he does as being ... courageous," she said, doubtfully.

"Are you kidding?" asked Bobby.  "Think about it.  Every time he puts you in that situation, he risks losing you."

"That's how he lost his first wife!" gasped Liz.  "She left with another man!"

"Well, then," said Bobby.  "There you go.  He found another wife.  She's a good looking woman with a great body, and he's got to have guts to risk losing her too."

Liz felt a tremor of thrill.   He DID notice her looks ... her body.  

"I've never done anything like this before," she said.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Hiring ... a man." She flushed red.

"I'm not hired yet," he said, his voice level.  "I'm just here to find out what you need.   I don't know if I can help you or not."

"Most men would jump at the chance," she said.  She wasn't being vain, or at least she wasn't trying to be vain.  She knew she was good looking.  She was used to men looking at her ... wanting her.  It had been that way since she grew breasts.

"I'm not most men," he said.

She looked at him.  He was right.  He was different, somehow.

"I don't really know what I need," she said.  "This is all for him."

"OK, then," said Bobby.  "Let's talk about what you don't need."

That was easy.  That was something she'd been worried about ever since calling him.

"I don't want to have sex," she said.  "Not with somebody other than Jeff."

"OK," he said.  "What else?"

This was amazing!  Liz was almost shocked at his ability to talk about this so calmly.  She had never had this kind of conversation with a man.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked, suddenly.  Standing in the hallway, talking to a strange man about sex, was suddenly just weird.

"OK," he said.  "But you're on the clock."  He grinned.

That grin was something she remembered from high school.  He'd always had a ready smile.  She couldn't remember why she had noticed that, but she had.

She felt better once they were seated, with cups in front of them.  This was a more social setting.  The table was between them.  She wondered why that made her feel better.

"It's his birthday," she said.  "In the past, when we did this, he took me to Wichita or someplace, where people didn't know us."

"What does he want you to do?" asked Bobby.

"Mostly dance," she said.  "Sometimes he'll sit a few barstools away, so it looks like I'm alone.  Then, when a man wants to buy me a drink, or dance with me, I'm supposed to flirt with him ... just a little.  If I dance with him, it's OK for me to dance close ... things like that."

"And you say his first wife did this too?"

"I think she did lots more than just dancing.   I think she let men grope her.  I don't know what else.  He doesn't talk about that much."

"So, you just want me to dance with you?" asked Bobby.

"I guess so," she said.  "I don't really know.   I haven't talked to him about it.  It's supposed to be a surprise."

"What if he objects?" asked Bobby.

"Then you'd have to leave," she said firmly.

"OK ... what if he wants me to do more than just dance with you?"

"Like what?" she asked, suddenly nervous.

"Touch you ... kiss you," said Bobby.

"I don't know about that," she said, uncertainly.

"How about if we let him call the shots?" asked Bobby.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'll come over.  You introduce us, and tell him what's going on.  Tell him he's in charge ... like this is a movie rehearsal, and he's the director."

"I don't know if he'd do that," she said.  "What if he wants you to do something I don't want to do?"

"I don't think he's going to tell me to make love to you," said Bobby.

"I guess not," she said.  "Like I said, I've never done anything like this before."

"We can play that by ear, I suppose," said Bobby.  "You can always just tell me if something is too much, and I'll back off ... give you a chance to catch your breath."

"Why would I need to catch my breath?" she asked.

"I know how to treat a woman," he said simply.  "You may get excited yourself."

"You're awfully sure of yourself," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"I don't get many complaints," he said softly.

He sounded more like a man, now, and that made her feel better, oddly.  He was attractive - there was no doubt about that - but she was quite sure that he wouldn't affect her.   When she'd danced with men in the past, she'd watched Jeff, most of the time.   It was his smiles that had made her feel good ... his reaction to what she was doing that made her anticipate what would happen later.  Yes, she could handle Bobby Dalton.  As different and interesting as he was, she was sure she wouldn't get turned on.  Not by him, anyway.  If Jeff was having a good time, THAT would turn her on.

"What's all this going to cost?" she asked, putting things on a less emotional level.

"This will be at night, right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then it won't take away from my regular work," he said.  "Why don't we just try it, and see how things go.  If it works out, you can pay me what you think it was worth."

That shocked her too.  He wasn't acting like a businessman.  Not about that, anyway.   She stood up. 

"What do I owe you already?" she asked.

He looked at his watch.

"You got a ten dollar bill?" he asked.

She nodded.  He'd been there an hour and a half.   She'd had to call servicemen before, and most of them charged at least twenty-five dollars, just for showing up.

She was still thinking about this strange man, an hour after he'd left.

====================================

Two nights later, Liz was a mess.   Jeff was home, and didn't suspect a thing.  She'd told him she had a birthday surprise for him, and that she'd give it to him later.   He'd had a rough day.  A car they had worked on had come back to the shop, and the owner was unhappy because whatever they'd done before hadn't fixed the problem.  It had taken Jeff himself to find the real problem, and three hours to fix it.

Now it was almost eight, and she should be getting ready.   Bobby had actually examined the dresses in her closet, once she had committed to this "date".  He had picked the dress she knew Jeff would have picked.  It was backless, and thin.   It came to well above her knees, and she knew she looked like dynamite in it.   It had inserts that were supposed to take the place of a bra.  He'd told her to leave them out, so that, if she got excited, it would show.

"What if I don't get excited?" she asked, stubbornly.

"Then you don't," he said.  "Nothing is lost.  He'll like you braless just as much as I will."

That comment had sent another thrill through her body, and she had been astonished to feel her nipples react to it.   He was so casual about saying he was ... interested in her.

"Be sure to wear panties," he'd added, holding the dress out, like he was thinking about buying it.  "But make them sexy."

"Of COURSE I'll wear panties!" she'd gasped.

"You might want to flash him," said Bobby, ignoring her discomfiture.  "I bet he'd get a kick out of that.  I can spin you in this dress, and they might show."

That had generated a trip to the record collection, below the stereo, and a discussion about what kind of dancing she could do.  He'd picked out songs from ten different albums.

"So many?" she asked.

"We don't know how long he'll want to watch," said Bobby.  "And, while I change the record, you can go flirt with him ... kiss him ... grope him ... let him know he's your man."

"Good idea!" she said, thinking about how much fun it would be to do that.  She loved to tease Jeff.  It made him wild.   She hadn't been able to do that in the past, because they'd had to maintain the fiction that she was alone, at least until she went home with him.  She had always known when he was ready to leave, because he either asked her to dance himself, or cut in on whoever she was dancing with.

Now, though, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt both sexy and vulnerable.  She was ashamed that her nipples were already half erect, and clearly visible through the thin cloth of the dress.   The black panties she had on were thin too.  Jeff had gotten them for her on a whim.  They fit, but were so small that she'd had to trim off even more of her pubic hair than she'd had to trim when he bought her the bikini.

Her hair was perfect, and her makeup was perfect.   Bobby should already be outside, waiting, but wouldn't knock on the door until she turned off the porch light, which she had turned on when she met Jeff at the door, after work.  Dinner was over, and Jeff was sitting in his favorite chair, where she'd told him to sit, while she got his surprise ready.   

What would Jeff do?  She was suddenly scared.

It was too late now.  It would be totally embarrassing if she didn't at least try.

She left the room, barefoot, and walked down the hall, into the living room.

"Wow!" said Jeff, looking at her.  "You should have told me we were going out.  I'm not ready."

"We're not going out," she said, dropping into the rehearsed speech she'd been saying to no one all afternoon.

"Someone is coming here," she said.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I met a man the other day," she said.  "I went to school with him.  He's coming here ... tonight ... to dance with me ... for you."

The range of looks on Jeff's face was both swift and complicated.  She saw confusion there, and questions, and then ... excitement.

"Was he your boyfriend?" asked Jeff, a little frown on his face.

"No," she said.  "I only talked to him once, back then."

"I don't understand," said Jeff.

"Miranda knows him," she said, telling the little lie that was necessary for this to work.   "He's just a nice guy, who hasn't settled down yet, and likes to have fun.   I asked him to do this favor for us ... to dance with me here, while you watch.  He agreed that you'll be in complete control."

"Why would he do that?" asked Jeff, who would never have agreed to do something like that in a million years.  If HE were the man coming over, he'd have been intent on getting under that beautiful dress she was wearing.

She sat on Jeff's lap, and kissed his cheek carefully, so she wouldn't mess up her lipstick.  

"I don't like going to bars, and having to dance with strangers," she said.  "I don't know him very well, but at least he's not a stranger, and Miranda remembers him from school.  She says he's nice ... polite.  I kind of hired him." She said it off handedly, like it was normal to hire a man to come do this.   "He's a handyman.  He probably needs the money."  

"You hired him?"  Jeff's voice went up a notch.

"Like an actor," she said, quickly, remembering what Bobby had said about Jeff being the director.  She kissed Jeff again on the corner of his mouth.  "It will just be playacting.  You'll be here all the time, and you can tell him what to do and what not to do.   That's my birthday present to you."  She kissed him a third time.  "I hired him so I can send him home whenever you want me to.   And, when he's gone, you can take this dress off of me and make love to me ... without a rubber."

She didn't know it, but she had just given her husband the best birthday present he could have imagined.   His lust blew all the doubts out of his brain ... all the other questions about why a man would agree to do something like this.  He knew he was kinky, and different from most men.  He didn't understand why he got so turned on by seeing his wife in another man's arms.  He'd agonized over it more than a dozen times, but the urge always came back.   All he knew was that this kind of thing made him hard as steel, when he got her in bed.   And to be able to fuck her bareback!  This fit his fantasy perfectly.

"If you don't want me to do this, I'll send him home," she said, unsure as to what he was thinking.

"He's here?" asked Jeff, looking around.

"He's outside ... waiting," she said.

Jeff's hand went to cup her breast.  He could feel her nipple through the fabric.   He wondered what it would be like to see another man do that ... feel her breasts.   He felt himself getting stiff.

"Call him in," he whispered.

Chapter Four

She turned off some lights; to set the mood, and make it look a little more like what a bar might look like.   She poured Jeff a bourbon and coke, and handed it to him, before going to the door.  She turned off the light, taking a deep breath.  She'd felt Jeff getting hard, while she sat on his lap.  She knew he was already excited.  She felt her nipples stiffen more, because that excited her too.  She opened the door, and saw Bobby, standing there, dressed in a suit, his hand out to knock, and realized she hadn't even given him time to knock.

"Hello," she said, startled.

"Hi," he said, smiling.   "You look nice."

It was awkward, bringing him into the house, with her husband sitting ten feet away.  Bobby blew her mind by walking right by her, to Jeff, and extending his hand.

"Happy birthday," he said.  "I'm Bobby."

She was sure Jeff was surprised too.  He looked surprised.   He set his drink down and stuck his hand out automatically.  Then he started to stand up.

"Sit," said Bobby.  "This is your night.  Just relax and enjoy it."

Liz felt like she was in some kind of weird dream.  He was so OPEN about what was going on, like it was the most normal thing in the world!

"Thanks," mumbled Jeff.  "You want a drink?"

"No thanks," said Bobby standing up.  He looked over his shoulder at Liz, who was still standing by the open door.   "You're a very lucky man, Jeff," he said.   "Would it be possible for me to have a dance with your wife?"

Liz felt like the dream had taken a crazy turn.   He was ASKING for permission!

"I guess one dance wouldn't hurt anything," said Jeff.

Bobby turned to Liz.  "Got any music around this joint?" he asked.

Her mouth fell open, but she jerked into action, going to the record player, where the first record was all ready to go.   Bobby came with her.   She lifted a shaking hand, and he grasped her wrist gently, stopping her.

"Allow me," he said.   He lifted the arm, and settled the needle into place gently.

They had chosen rock and roll, an old one, to start with.  It brought back memories of when they'd been in school together, and let him throw her away from him, and pull her back, twirling her, like he'd said he'd do.  Her dress did fly up, swirling out into a gently curved bell, and showing at least her thighs.  He was a good dancer, and the moves came back to her like dim memories of riding a bike.  She realized she was having a good time, and grinned as he dipped her and threw her back to her feet.  On the last notes, he whirled her in, capturing her with his arm around her, her face inches from his.  She could feel his breath on her lips, and knew she was panting into his face too.

"Go sit on his lap," he whispered.

He took her to Jeff, holding her hand, and "giving" her back to her husband, who was sitting, his eyes bright, and his drink forgotten.

"Thank you," he said.  "She's not only beautiful, she's a good dancer.  Like I said, you're a lucky man."

Liz sank down on Jeff's lap, and felt a full blown erection under her bottom.

"It's too bad I only get one dance," said Bobby.

Liz kissed Jeff on the lips this time.

"That was fun!" she said.  "Could I have just one more dance with him?"

"Yes!" blurted Jeff, his hand stroking her bare back.

"Great!" said Bobby.  "You two just do whatever while I pick something else, OK?"   He went to the record player and appeared to look through the records that were there, lying where they hadn't been that morning.

"That was hot," moaned Jeff.  "I could see your panties!" he gasped.

"I wore them for you," she said, kissing him again.

"Was it fun?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she said.  "He's a pretty good dancer."

The song Bobby put on wasn't a Tango, but they danced to it as if it were.  Bobby put his right hand on her lower back, and pulled her to him firmly, holding her right hand out, away from their bodies, with his left.  She realized he had kicked off his shoes, and was dancing in his socks, as he moved her around the living room.   He threw her away from him and twirled her again, right in front of Jeff, and then pulled her lower body firmly against him.  She felt something dig into her loins, and realized that Jeff wasn't the only man in the room with an erection.   The wildness of the dancing, and that erection, rubbing against her, made her emotions surge.  This WAS fun!  Knowing that nothing was going to happen, made it exciting in a way she'd never felt when she danced with other men.

"You're being naughty," she gasped, when he pulled her hard against that lump.

"Sorry," he said, loud enough for Jeff to hear.  "I can't help it.  You're a beautiful woman."

"Thank you," she said, also loud enough for Jeff to hear. "But I'm taken."

"More's the pity," said Bobby, flinging her away from him, only to bring her back and crush her to him again.  "He's a lucky man."

"You just behave yourself," she said.  "And maybe I'll ask him if I can dance with you again."

"Oh, please do," said Bobby, as they swirled by Jeff.

Liz realized she hadn't been watching her husband, like she usually did when something like this was going on.  She looked at him now, and felt an electric thrill go through her.  He was rubbing the front of his pants!

That song ended and she went back to sit on Jeff's lap.  She was panting again, and his hand went to her breast and squeezed.

"Are you having fun?" she asked.

"Ohhh baby, you have no idea," he moaned.

"He was being naughty," she whispered.   "If I were sitting on his lap, it would feel the same as yours does."  She wiggled her butt on Jeff's boner.

"Ohhhhh," he moaned.

"Should I dance with him again?" she asked.

"Yessss," he hissed.

Bobby had already put on another record.   He didn't ask for this dance.  He just waited, while she got up and went to him.

"He said I can dance with you again," she said in a voice that was intended to carry to her husband.   "Behave yourself, though."

"Yes ma'am," said Bobby.  

This was a slow song, and he pulled her against him, putting both hands on her bare back.   He was anything but polite, though, and his hands strayed, moving along her back, and onto her barely covered butt.   He made sure he was right in front of Jeff, when both hands cupped her buttocks.

"Careful," she whispered in his ear.

He turned her, so she could turn her face to Jeff, who was almost glassy-eyed now.   The drink was in his right hand again, and his left was pressing hard into his lap.  He drained the bourbon as she watched.

With something like shock, she realized that she had molded her body to that of her dancing partner.  His hands were pulling her loins into that disturbing lump, and she felt the first seeping of what she'd never felt when shed danced with a man other than her husband.  She was getting damp!

When that song was over, and she sat on Jeff's lap, he kissed her hungrily.  She didn't care about her lipstick any more, and kissed him back, just as hard.

"Are you OK with this?" she asked, into his open mouth.

"I love this," he sighed.

"He was very naughty with me," she moaned.

"I loved that too," he whispered.  "Are you turned on?"

"Yesss," she admitted.

"Dance with him again," he urged.

"He's touching me," she whined.  "He's being so naughty!"

"I love it," he gasped, moving her to massage his stiff prick.

"If I dance with him again, he might touch me here!" she said, putting her hand on top of his, which was on her breast.

"Ohhhhhh," he groaned.

"Do you want him to?" she whined.

"Ohhh honey," moaned her husband.  "I can't help it.  Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," she said, kissing him.  "I'm doing this for you ... but I'm getting awfully excited.  That's never happened before."

"We can send him away soon," said her husband.

"Yes," she whispered.  "And then you can fuck me.   You might even make a baby in me tonight."

That wasn't technically true.  She'd been finishing her period when shed called Bobby.   It was highly unlikely that she was fertile, but she wanted to give Jeff the best birthday he'd ever had.

Her comment had the intended effect, though.  Jeff squeezed her breast harder, and thrust up against her bottom.

"Get me another drink first," he said.  "Then dance with him, and let him be naughty."

She hopped up; disturbed that she was so eager to do exactly what hed said.  She hadn't expected to be this excited by what was happening.   Maybe it was because she was so in touch with Jeff, while it was happening.   As she poured the drink, though, she thought about what might happen.  Bobby might touch her.   Her panties were definitely damp now.  She wanted to think it was just perspiration ... from the dancing ... but her belly told her otherwise.

He had waited for her ... just standing beside the record player.  She handed Jeff his drink, and he tossed off half of it before the music even started.  She knew he wouldn't get drunk.  It would take three or four before that would happen.

The music started.  It was heavy with drumbeats, a throbbing rhythm that she felt in her bones.   When he pulled her against him, her mouth went to his ear.

"He says you can touch me," she whispered.

"How do you feel about that?" he asked calmly.   He sounded so completely normal.  Any other man would have groped her already.  She realized, suddenly, that she wasn't "handling" him at all.  It was the other way around.  He was sticking to the plan, while she was way too excited to feel his hands on her.

"I want him to be happy," she whispered.

"Is it OK if I make you happy too?" he asked.

She didn't know what that meant, but her euphoria at this working out so well made her pass over that.

"Of course," she said, not really knowing what that meant.

For the first third of the song, he danced with her like anyone would have danced with her, holding her close.  Then, when they were right in front of Jeff, he stopped, and moved behind her, pulling her against him.  She felt his obvious erection in her butt, and his hands went to her waist, just swaying her back and forth, in front of Jeff. 

His hands went to her stomach, and moved, in alternating circles.  She didn't know what to do with her hands, but simply put them on his.  The circles got bigger, and suddenly his hands were cupping her breasts.  She hissed, as strange hands mauled her tender orbs.

She looked down at Jeff, looking up.  His mouth was hanging open.  The half of his drink that was left was on the end table beside him, and his hand was rubbing hard in his lap.

"Ohhhhh Jeff," she moaned.  "He's being very naughty with meeee."

"Oh baby," gasped Jeff.

Bobby's hands went back down, pulling out from under hers, to her thighs.   He dragged the dress up as he rubbed up her thighs.   Jeff's eyes went to where her panties were almost visible.

"Higher," he whispered.

Bobby's hands went down and lifted the dress, until the front of it was gathered around her waist, and her hips were clearly visible.   He held it there for a few seconds, then let it drop.  He slid his hands back, over her hips, and up to where the dress gave him access to her sides.  She was shocked as he slid his hands inside her dress, and looked down to see his hands slide up onto her naked breasts, under the dress.

Jeff hissed again.

"Oooooo baby," she whined.  "He's touching my breasts!"

"I know," groaned Jeff.   "Does it feel good?"

"Yessss," she moaned.  "I can't help it Jeff!"

Leaving his left hand where it was, Bobby extracted his right, and moved it down, to slide up her thigh again.  She jerked as his fingers cupped her pussy through the wispy panties.

"AHHHHHH," she groaned, feeling him press, and feeling the delight of it.

"What's he doing, baby?" gasped Jeff, leaning forward.

"He's touching meeee," she whined.

Jeff's hands came out, and he lifted the dress, so he could see.

Bobby had heard "He says you can touch me," from the lips of this woman.   It was only natural that he thought of this as "touching".  It wasn't what she'd meant, but he didn't know that.   It wasn't what Jeff had meant either ... technically.   But the fact was that this was exactly what Jeff's fantasies involved ... another man abusing his wife ... getting her hot ... and then Jeff taking over to cool her off.   When nobody raised an outcry, Bobby did the next most logical thing.

He slid his hand up to her belly, and dipped it into her panties.  Her husband's face was less than a foot away, as he slid his middle finger through puffy, wet pussy lips, mauling her clitty, and dipped it inside her, where no man's finger, other than Jeff's, had been, since shed graduated high school.

Her cry of relief astonished her.   If she'd been given time to think about this, she would have slapped Bobby for even thinking about doing this.   But now, in the heat of passion, with her husband holding up her dress ... actually ASSISTING this ... her clitty did her thinking for her.

The orgasm she hadn't planned on having hit her like a ton of bricks.  The thick finger, wiggling in her pussy, sending those electric shocks from her clit to the nipple he was squeezing with his left hand, left her so weak that he was actually holding her up with the finger buried in her pussy.   She sobbed with a mixture of relief and shame, as she welcomed that orgasm and the finger in her pussy.

That lasted only as long as her orgasm, though.  When that was winding down, she felt almost rage that she had been manipulated by this man, who had promised not to do anything she didn't want done.

Her hand went to his wrist and gripped it, pulling savagely.

"Let me GO!" she barked.

His hands slid away from her instantly and she collapsed onto her husband's lap.

"Get out!" she growled.  "Only my husband can touch me like that!"

Without a word, Bobby backed up.  He picked up his shoes and, went to the door.  He opened it and turned his face toward the couple in the chair.

"You're a very lucky man, Jeff," he said, and then he left.

===================================

Liz lay sated and happy.  Jeff was snoring beside her.  He had been like an animal, after Bobby left.  She'd never be able to wear that dress again, because the zipper was ruined.  He had pounded her.  Even if she'd demanded he wear a rubber, it wouldn't have happened.  He'd never been that insistent ... that demanding.   She couldn't know that her honest anger at Bobby had transmitted to him, and that that, too, fit his fantasy perfectly.   She DID want only Jeff.  She had obviously been having a good time with the man ... but she had taken Jeff to bed, and let him spurt into her unprotected pussy.

She could have no idea that this had opened new doors in her relationship with Jeff.  It wouldn't be until they talked about it later, that she'd realize just how great she had made his birthday.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked him, when they woke.

"Of course not," he said, cupping her naked breast.

"Did you have fun?" she asked.

"I had the best time of my life," he said.

"He wasn't supposed to go that far," she sighed.

"It was perfect," he sighed back.

"Really?" she was astonished.

"I thought I showed you how perfect it was last night," he said.  "Do I need to show you again?"

"Oh, please do," she moaned.

He wasn't quite as wild as he had been the night before, but he made it very clear he was still excited.  He lasted longer this time too.   He just mounted her again.  Neither of them mentioned a rubber, and she let him spurt in her again.  After all, last night's spend was still inside her.

"I'm so glad it worked out," she sighed, as they relaxed again.

"How much did that cost?" he asked.

"I don't actually know," she said.  "He just said that if it worked out, I could pay him whatever I thought it was worth."

"Well, it sure worked out," he sighed.  "You were right.  This IS a lot better than going out to a bar somewhere."

"I'm glad you're happy," she said, kissing him.

"Do you think you'll ever want to make me happy like that again?" he asked.

"With him?"  She was shocked.

"Why not?" asked Jeff.  "He was perfect."

"He went too far," she said.

"No he didn't," said Jeff.

"But I had an orgasm!" she moaned.

"That was what made it so hot," he whispered.   

"You LIKED that part?"  She was astonished.

"I liked that part," he said firmly.

She felt something like panic shoot through her.  She'd liked that part too.  She just hadn't wanted to admit it.  Her anger, though directed at him, in telling him to get out, had really been at herself, for loving that orgasm.

"But I won't ask you to do that again, if it makes you upset," Jeff added.

"I never thought about doing it again," she said.  "This was just for your birthday."

Jeff's thought processes were complicated.  What got him going was the danger involved in another man making his wife feel good.  Bobby had been right, though Jeff didn't think about it as completely as Bobby had.   What Jeff wanted, more than anything else, was for her to keep choosing him, even though other men made her feel good.  It had made him feel powerful, when she told the other man to leave, and that she belonged only to Jeff.   He had almost ... but not quite ... shot off in his pants, at that moment.   The juxtaposition of his wife, who had clearly had an orgasm from Bobby's manipulations, choosing to mate with Jeff, instead of this other man, was what made him feel complete.   Though Liz had no idea of this, Jeff wouldn't have cared if Bobby had fucked her ... as long as she didn't go home with Bobby, and chose to stay with Jeff.  That tug of war, which depended completely on Liz's will, was what made this dangerous game so satisfying.   His first wife had failed him ... had been weak ... had succumbed to the other man's charms.   But Liz had passed the test.  She'd had a good time ... had been obviously erotically involved ... but had stayed with her husband.   That fact put Jeff on cloud nine.

"That's why I think we should hire him again," said her husband.

===================================

Jeff and Liz didn't head willy nilly into this new relationship.  They talked about it, in very stark and clear terms.  Jeff didn't tell her how far he was willing to let her go.  Part of that was because he didn't want her to pull back.  Part of it was because he wanted her to be exposed to honest seduction ... and still choose him.

But, overall, their conversation was plain.   She told him how far she was comfortable going, (which had changed, somewhat to what she would have said she was comfortable with a week ago,) and he told her what kind of scenarios he found exciting.

When she called Bobby, the first thing she did was apologize to him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said, when he answered the phone.  "I have a check for you."

"I may have misunderstood how far you two wanted things to go," he said.  

"I thought so too ... then," she said.  "It turns out that what happened was perfect."

"Really?" he said.  "I'm happy for you."

"Jeff wants to know if you'd ... um ... be willing to help us some more."

"Sure," he said.  "I don't know him very well, but I like him."

"What about me?" she asked.   She immediately wished she hadn't said it.

He laughed.  "I like you too.  I had a good time too, you know."

"Yes," she said, still rattled.  "I could feel that."   It occurred to her that, after all that had happened, she had been able to find an outlet for the passion he had built up in her ... but he had just been chased out ... into the dark, lonely night.

"I hope running you off like that didn't cause you any ... um ... discomfort," she said.  She immediately hit her forehead with her palm.  Why did this man make her act so stupid?

"It was no problem," he said.  "I have other outlets.

In fact, Bobby had gone home that night and spent the night with his mother, who got the full benefit of what Liz had built up in him.

"Oh!" said Liz.  She'd already forgotten that he did this ... professionally?  Now that she thought about it ... he HAD been quite professional.   He'd certainly gotten HER going, when she hadn't intended that to happen at all!  "Of course," she added.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"We can talk about that when you come by to pick up the check," she said.

"Sounds good to me," said Bobby.

=======================================

Bobby stood behind the counter of the Sinclair service station, owned and operated by Jeff Sinderson.   He wondered if things weren't getting a little strange, but what they wanted seemed harmless enough.

It was the fourth of July, late in the evening, and all the employees had gone.  Jeff was there, puttering around with a car in the garage.  Bobby was his "assistant" for the evening, but all he'd done was pump a little gas.  Jeff trusted him with his wife, but not his money.  Whenever someone paid for anything, Bobby stepped aside, and Jeff came in and smiled and made change.

Jeff came into the office, looked at his watch, and flipped the sign in the window from the "Open" side to the "Closed - Sorry We Missed You" side.   He hadn't said much to Bobby, and everything he HAD said would have been normal stock for any boss talking to one of his employees.  After turning over the sign, he went back into the shop.

Right on cue, Liz pulled into the station, driving her car to one of the garage doors.  Bobby heard it scrape open, and walked into the shop.  Liz got out of the car.  She was wearing a white bikini, with a shirt on over it, unbuttoned.  She had on dark glasses.

"I need my tires checked," she said.

Jeff was nowhere to be seen, but Bobby knew he was watching.  He was the one, according to Liz, who had come up with the little one-act play that was happening ... had started when Liz arrived.   She had been a little embarrassed to tell him about it, but his calm acceptance of the plan had reassured her.

Bobby looked her up and down, in a way he normally wouldn't have.  It wasn't hard.  She looked great in the bikini.   She folded her arms and tapped her toe impatiently.

"We're closed, ma'am," said Bobby.

"But I need my tires checked!" she insisted.  "I think one of them is low."

"Look, lady," said Bobby, playing his part.  "It's been a long day, and we're closed.  There's a place down the road that can check your tires."

"It's so hot," she complained.  "I don't want to go somewhere else.  Isn't there anything I could do to get you to check them here?"

"Sure," said Bobby.  "You could kiss me."

"That's ridiculous!" said Liz.  "I'm married!"

"Then why isn't your husband checking your tires?" asked Bobby, wiping his hands with a rag, even though they didn't need it.

"He's a busy man," said Liz.  "Please ... just check my tires."

"We're closed," said Bobby, his voice firm.

Liz dithered for a minute, stepping from one foot to the other.

"All right," she sighed.  "But just a kiss ... and then you check my tires!"

Bobby stepped up to her and took her in his arms.   Liz knew he was going to kiss her.  She expected that, because that had been discussed.   What she didn't expect was the kind of kiss she got.   When Bobby's lips pressed against hers, and his strong arms crushed her to him, the electricity she felt in his lips and embrace was more than she was prepared for.   Her lips softened, and his tongue pushed into her mouth.   Within seconds, she was kissing him back, caught up in the embrace.

She was also expecting his hand to go to her breast.   That had been discussed too.  She was supposed to object.    What she wasn't prepared for was for Bobby to push the shirt back, off her shoulders, which pulled her elbows back, making her arms basically useless to defend herself with.   Then, when he pushed her back onto the hood of the car, her feet became useless as well.   

With her arms pinned at her sides, the panting woman looked up at Bobby through eyes that had panic in them that wasn't rehearsed.  His hand went casually to the bikini top, pulled and lifted, and suddenly, her breasts were naked, pushing up into the air.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"I knew they'd be gorgeous," said Bobby, just looking at them.

"You can't do this!" she yelled.  "I'm married!"

"Of course I can do this," he said, leaning over her.

He licked one of her thrusting nipples, and she moaned.   After licking the other, he sucked it into his mouth and pulled at it.

"AAAAHHHHHHH!" she moaned.  "You can't do this ... please don't do this ... aaaaaHHHHHHH!" she whined.

He worked her breasts over for five minutes, during which Liz began to forget that this was just a game.

"It feels so gooood," she moaned.  "But you can't ... please ... I love my husband."

"I bet you do," said Bobby.  "And I bet he loves this lush body of yours too, baby."   

He put his hand on her stomach, and began inching it down.  Liz, feeling so good already, felt real terror as she thought about how, in a few minutes, she would cum on his finger again.  Her legs flopped, and she realized she was actually spreading them for him.  Clamping down on her emotions, she closed her legs.

"PLEASE!" she groaned, really begging him now.  "Don't do this!  I'm faithful to my husband!"

"Don't do what?" asked Bobby, grinning.

He slid his hand into her bikini bottom.  She was wet ... slick ... and her legs opened for him.

"EEEEEEEE!" screamed Liz, as she felt the welcome fingers of his hand probing her sex.  His mouth went down on her nipples again, and he fucked her with his fingers.  She flopped and came within a minute, moaning and crying the whole time.  He waited until she was finished, and pulled his hand out, holding it up to look at his glistening fingers.

"I bet you taste good," he said, his voice rough.  He licked and sucked her juices off his fingers.   "Yup," he said, grinning.  "You do.   I get you'd feel good wrapped around my cock too."

"NO!" she gasped.  "NOT THAT ... ANYTHING BUT THAT!" Her voice was a hoarse scream.

"What will you do for me?" he said.  "You got me going, lady."

"I'll TOUCH you!" she moaned.  "I'll touch you ... but don't make me be unfaithful to my husband."

Bobby seemed to think about it for a few seconds, and then took his hand off her.  She almost slid off the car onto the dirty floor, and Bobby jumped to help her.  

"Sorry," he said, under his breath.

"It's OK," she panted back, quietly.  "I just didn't expect to cum like that."

"You want to quit?" he whispered.

She bit her lip.  The problem was that she didn't want to stop.  But Jeff was watching, and they'd done everything he'd asked, thus far.  There was only one more thing to do, and then he'd take her home.  The thought of that made the excitement of the forbidden thing she'd just allowed come back.

"No," she said softly.

Bobby didn't question her further.  Their whispered exchange had taken only seconds.  He grabbed the fender protector that had been placed nearby for this very purpose, and spread it on the floor.  When he stood up he saw she had removed the shirt, and put it on the hood of the car, but hadn't covered her breasts.

"We wouldn't want your pretty knees to get all dirty, and your husband to ask you how that happened," he said loudly.

She got on her knees, and Bobby stepped up.

"Don't make me do this," she moaned, her voice filling the shop.

"You offered, baby," said Bobby.

Her hands went to his zipper, and pulled it down.   She was momentarily stymied by the fact that his jeans were tight, and his prick was hard.  She felt a little thrill as she realized he was hard for her.  Then she felt a little stab of guilt, for being thrilled that this man obviously wanted her.   She remembered his offer to let her stop, and felt something like gratitude to him.   That frustration ... that mix of jumbled up emotions ... made her attack his belt, which wasn't in the script.   She got his jeans open and pulled at them, almost viciously.  His underwear and jeans suddenly slid down, off his hips, and his erection popped up right in front of her face.

As she had been unprepared for the kiss, and the speed with which his fingers brought her to orgasm, she was also unprepared for what stood out from his body, inches from her face.   Jeff, like most men, was circumcised.  She was intimately familiar with his penis, and had spent long minutes examining it, and holding it in her hand.  She had expected something similar.   But Bobby's penis looked so completely different that it froze her.  She stared at it in shock.  Where Jeff's was ridged and curvy, almost bumpy, Bobby's looked uniformly smooth along its length.   It looked bigger, somehow.   Her hand went to it, in an unconscious attempt to measure it.   The feel was similar, in terms of the warmth of it, and the hard, yet soft texture, and she saw that about the same amount stuck out of her hand as when she gripped Jeff's.   It wasn't really bigger.  It just looked bigger, for some reason.

Jeffs also had a bend in it, to his left, but this one was straight as an arrow.   She leaned forward, and was amazed to feel her hand moving, even though her grip on the skin was tight.   She was amazed even more as the tip was suddenly uncovered, almost like magic, right before her eyes.  That looked more like Jeff's, and she pushed harder, to find that, when the loose skin was pushed all the way back, it DID look like Jeff's.

"That's nice," said Bobby.  "Do that some more."

She kept her grip tight, something she couldn't do with Jeff, and pulled forward.  The loose skin in front of her hand bunched, and slid forward, to cover the tip again.  It made a wrinkled little "O" at the tip that looked like flabby lips, almost.

"Kiss it," said Bobby.

That wasn't in the script.

"No," she said.

"Aww, come on, baby, your husband will never know. Just give it a little kiss ... a little suck, maybe."

"NO!" she said.   "I said I'd touch it ... but not that way!"

"Well come on and touch it then," complained Bobby.  "I'm dying here."

"I AM touching it," she insisted, moving it back and forth again, experimentally.

She was amazed at how smoothly that skin slid back and forth.  To get her hand to slide like this on Jeff's penis, she'd have to use oil.  But she could grip this one tightly, and it still slid effortlessly back and forth.  She knew, from doing this to Jeff, that she needed to go fast, so she sped up.

"Ohhh yeah," groaned Bobby.  "That's it ... just like that."

She was supposed to move it to one side, when it spurted.  That hadn't been discussed, but when Jeff had asked her to masturbate Bobby, she'd just decided to do that.  She hadn't looked forward to this part.  She'd expected to find it distasteful, actually.  Now, though, as she felt the hard thing moving inside her grip, she realized it wasn't distasteful at all.   Bobby had played his role perfectly.  He'd been so convincing that she'd felt real fear in places.   He'd seen that fear ... recognized her weakness ... helped her ... offered to let her stop.

She decided that, especially after the last time, when she'd thrown him out after obviously getting him so excited, he deserved this orgasm.  It was with that attitude that she worked on his prick, biting her lip gently in concentration, as she watched the tip appear and then disappear.

"Uhhhh," grunted Bobby.  "Yeah!"  He held his hips stock still, even though she could see the muscles bunch and strain.  She saw, briefly, a drop of something clear appear, and soak into the little lips that she made each time she brought her hand toward her face.  She felt the insane urge to kiss those lips.  She loved sucking Jeff's prick.  She knew, somehow, that she'd like having this one, with its loose skin, in her mouth too.   She pushed that away, and her hand moved frantically.

"OHHHH YEEEAHHH!" groaned Bobby.

The first thick stream of white surprised her.  Her bikini top was still up above her breasts, and that stream hit her between that, and her chin, on her upper chest.   She thought of several things at once.  The first thing she thought of was how warm it was.  Jeff had never spurted on her body before.  The only place she'd ever felt his spunk was on her hand.   The next thing that popped into her mind was that it was dripping downward, toward her bikini top, and that it might stain it.   The hand gripping him moved downward, and the next spurt landed on her right breast.  Her other hand went to her chest to scoop up the first splatter, so it wouldn't get on her bikini top.

The next thing she knew, her breasts were dripping with Bobby's spunk.

They hadn't thought this part out and there was no towel handy for Bobby to give Liz.   Jeff appeared out of nowhere - they hadn't even seen where he'd been hiding while he watched - and he thrust a towel at Liz.

"Thanks," he panted to Bobby.

Liz realized she was still gripping Bobby's penis, as it softened in her hand.  She let go and took the towel.  Bobby stepped back and pulled his jeans up.  Refastening them, he looked at Liz, to gauge her reaction.  She was staring at her breasts, and wiping at them, though, so he couldn't see her face.

"You want me to lock up?" asked Bobby, as Jeff helped his wife to her feet.  She looked around, her eyes seeming to be unfocused.

"Yeah," panted Jeff.  "Thanks.  All you have to do is lock the garage door, and pull the office door closed when you leave.  It will lock by itself.

In his haste, Jeff went to the garage door and it rocketed up, with Liz still standing there, her breasts bare.  Bobby reached to pull her bikini top down over her breasts.  She began helping him, finally, and reached to get her shirt, though she didn't put it on.  Jeff ran back to the driver's side of her car and got in, while Bobby ushered her to the passenger side and put her in the front seat.  The tires slid on the grimy shop floor as Jeff accelerated backwards, and then slid again on the driveway as he took off toward home.

Bobby sighed, closed the garage door, and went out the office door to get to his car.

Chapter Five

Liz lay on her back, her eyes closed, as she concentrated on the sensations she was feeling.  Jeff was beside her, still panting from his exertions.   He had been wild again, rutting into her in the most delightful way, again without a rubber on.  He hadn't even given her time to wash Bobby's sperm off her front, where the towel had half-removed it, and half-smeared it.   That sperm had, in fact, assisted him as his chest rubbed through it, making her easy to lunge into because of its slippery texture.   

She'd had an orgasm, and it had been a good one, but Jeff was over excited, and came quickly.  To her surprise, when he did cum, he jerked his prick out of her and spurted on her belly, obviously trying to get it on her breasts, like Bobby had, though his stream wasn't quite as strong, and reached only her lower breasts.   She had been both unprepared and somewhat shocked at the feel of Bobby's semen on her chest .   Her mind had gone into ... something ... she couldn't remember some of it.  She had reacted by instinct, after that first jet painted her upper chest.  

Now, though, with her husband's semen on her, she experimented, rubbing the warm fluid across her belly, and up onto her breasts.  It felt good, like lotion, and she felt like she needed to make love again.  She knew Jeff would need time to recover ... an hour or two, probably.  She was a bit confused by all these new feelings that were coursing through her body.   

She had liked what Bobby did to her at the station.  She had liked it a lot.   He had been gentle, in a rough kind of way.  Jeff had been anything but gentle, and she liked that too.  She liked it all.  That was the problem.  She wasn't sure she was supposed to like it all.  Her very normal upbringing and very conforming attitude made her like most women.  They expected to fall in love with one man, have sex with one man, enjoy that sex with one man, and live happily ever after with one man.   

Now she had met another man, a man from her past, who muddled up her conforming opinions.  She didn't love him, and she wasn't interested in marrying him.  On the other hand, she liked the sexual things she'd done with that other man.  She liked feeling his hands and lips on her body.  She liked that he had spurted for her ... and how that felt on her body.  She'd wanted to put her mouth on him.   All that didn't fit with her opinions about how she should feel.   Worst of all, she knew that she didn't want to stop playing this dangerous game of Jeff's.   She knew, somehow, that it would escalate ... that Jeff's suppressed desires would lead him to ask her to do more.

The problem was that as much as she enjoyed doing this for Jeff ... she enjoyed doing it for herself too.

And that worried her.

When Jeff calmed enough, and was breathing more slowly, she turned, rubbing her sperm-smeared front to his side.  He jerked, but didn't pull away.

"You really like this, don't you?" she asked.

He sighed.  "I can't help it, but yes, I do."

"I'm worried," she said.

"I love you, honey," he said earnestly.  "Honest, I really love you."

"I know that," she said.  "The problem is that I like it too."

"You do?" He sounded breathless.  "I'm so glad, baby!  I was afraid I was making you do things that would make you miserable."

"I SHOULD be miserable!" she insisted.  "That's the problem.  I'm not."  She frowned.  "Well, I'm worried ... but not miserable."

"What are you worried about?" he said.  "It's all gone perfectly."

"I LIKE him!" she said.

"Do you love him?" asked Jeff.

"No, not like that," she said.  "I mean I like what he does.  I have ORGASMS, Jeff!"

"I know you do," he said.  "That's part of why it's so exciting."

"What if I like it too much?" she moaned.

"You want to see him again ... don't you?" said Jeff.

"Yes!"  She pushed at him.  "But I shouldn't WANT to see him again.  I should be happy with just you."

"If I asked you to never see him again ... would you do that?" asked Jeff.

"Of course!" she said.  "You're my husband.  I love you."

"Then I don't see the problem," he said.   "I don't mind if you have a good time.  I WANT you to have a good time.   I don't want you to fall in love with him, of course.  I don't know what to do," he finally moaned.

"You want him to do even more ... don't you?" she asked.

"I don't know," he moaned.  "It's so exciting to see you like that ... with him touching you.   I wanted to masturbate while he was doing that, it was so exciting.  But I didn't.  I waited.  I wanted to be sure I could make love to you as soon as possible."

"I like that," she said.  "That makes me want to have you again."

"Soon," he promised.

"I want you now," she pouted.

"Soon," he said again.

"I'm impatient!" she said.  

She sat up and rearranged herself so she could get to his penis.  It was spermy, where he had rubbed it on her belly after he squirted, but she didn't care.  She sucked him into her mouth, and made him clean.  Then she pulled off, and flopped him around with her fingers.

"What if I did this to him?" she asked, her voice sultry.  "Would that make you hard?"

She took him into her mouth again and sucked.

"Awwwww," he moaned.

She felt him stiffen a little, and was delighted.  It had only been ten or fifteen minutes.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said, licking the head.  "If I put my mouth on his prick?   You'd like it if I was that naughty."

She sucked some more, and he grew even stiffer.   She scrambled around, to lower her pussy onto his mouth.

"Suck my pussy, Bobby," she said, rubbing her slick pussy lips against her husband's mouth.   "Suck my pussy while I suck Bobby's cock."

He groaned into her pussy, and she could feel the vibrations of it as he attacked her slippery slit.   He was wild about that too, nipping with his lips and sucking and sticking his tongue into her.  She sucked just as avidly on his prick.  It didn't get completely hard, but it was long, and firm enough, so she pulled off of him, scrambled around, held it, and then sank down on it.  Leaning forward, she teased her husband.

"What if I did this to him, Jeff?   What if I let him put his nasty prick in my poor pussy?  What if he'd taken off my bikini bottoms, and laid me on the hood of my own car ... and fucked me?"

Jeff lunged up against her, shaking his head back and forth.  He groaned almost constantly.

"I love you" he gasped.  "I love you so much."

"You want Bobby to fuck me ... don't you?" she whispered, leaning forward and hunching her loins as fast as she could.  "You nasty man!" she moaned.  "You want him to fuck my pussy!"

"OHHH babeeee," he whined.  "Don't make me say it!"

"Tell me, Jeff!" she commanded.  "Do you want him to fuck me?"

"Noooooooo," he pleaded.

"No what, Jeff?" she said, rubbing her tits on his face.

"Nooooo," was all he said.

"Fuck me, Bobby," she whispered.

"AHHHHHHHHH," he screamed, and she felt him cum.

She slowed, and sat, her hands on his chest, as he cried.  He broke down almost completely.

"I'm sorry," he gasped.  "I'm so sorry."

"It's OK, baby," she crooned into his face, leaning down to kiss him.  "It's OK.  I love you.  I'll always love you.  I won't leave you.  You're my man."

Something deep in her mind resonated with her words, and she realized, for the first time since they were married, that she DID love him.  All the things that had happened had carried her to a place she'd never been before.   Most of all, Jeff's admissions ... the way he stripped everything away and laid his most secret fantasies clear, knowing he might lose her in the process ... that, above all, made her love him.   Had he told her all that sooner, it might have been different.  She might have been disgusted.  But now, seeing the pain with which he faced his shame, she loved him in a way she hadn't loved him until now.

"It's all right, darling," she said again, laying down on him.  "I love you."

He gripped her tightly.  His sobs became sniffles, and then died away to an occasional quick moan.  She kissed him over and over again until he started kissing her back.  They did that for ten minutes, until he was calm again.

"I won't make you do that," he finally said.

"We'll talk about that later," she said.  "I'm not thinking about Bobby now.  I'm thinking about you."

"How can I possibly deserve you?" he asked, wonder in his voice.

"I'm not worried about that either," she said.  "You're stuck with me, no matter what happens."

For an hour after that, they just held each other.

===================================

When Bobby got home, he thought no one would be there.  The evening celebration at the town square was going on.  Soon there would be fireworks.   He'd thought about going over there, where many of the women he'd fucked would be.   He was a little worried about Liz and Jeff, though.  The last thing he wanted to do was break up a marriage.   He liked Jeff, though he didn't know him well.  He liked Liz too.  He didn't quite understand this strange compulsion that Jeff had, even though instinct had led him to say some of the things he'd said, and do some of the things he'd done.   

Making Liz immobile and helpless was something that had come to him naturally.  If she was going to resist his advances, like Jeff wanted, it only seemed natural to help her do that, even though it went against Bobby's grain to force her.   He had forced other women in the past, but in those situations, they had wanted to be forced ... needed to be forced ... because they couldn't allow themselves to have what they really wanted.

Liz wasn't like that, though.   She trusted him to honor his commitment to only do what Jeff wanted.   She had become passionate during their little play, obviously returning his kisses.  Her voice had said the rehearsed words of the play, but her body had spoken a different language, and that worried him a little.

He decided not to go to the celebration.  Instead, he'd just go home, deal with his erection, and get some extra sleep.   

It didn't quite happen that way.

Linda was there, and she was miserable.

"Why aren't you at the park?" he asked, when he walked in and saw her curled up in a chair.  She'd been crying.

"He's probably there," she said, her voice shaking.  "He's probably taking some other girl on the rides!"

"You're an idiot," he said.  "I told you to make up with him.  You still love him, and he still loves you."

"I caaaan't!" she moaned.

"Then I don't feel sorry for you," he said.

She jumped up and ran to him, hugging him.

"Love me, Bobby," she cried.

"You know I love you," he said.  "I just don't feel sorry for you."

She pushed him away, angrily, and turned around, to stand, not knowing what else to do.  Her life had been so perfect.  If only Paul would listen to reason.  A tiny sliver of her mind reminded her that her plan wasn't reasonable, and she stomped her foot.  She turned around, wanting to yell at somebody, but Bobby was gone.  She heard the door to his room close.

===================================

Bobby was remembering the look of Liz, spread out on the hood of the car, her breasts heaving as he diddled her clit.  She'd liked that part.  He could tell.   Her eyes had stared right at him, until she'd had to close them when the orgasm rocked her body.

His door opened, and Linda came in, naked.   His hand kept going as he looked at his sister's breasts, so different, yet so similar to Liz's.

"Don't waste it," growled Linda.

She came to the side of the bed, and when he didn't stop, she reached for his wrist.

"Love me, Bobby," she pleaded.

Thirty seconds later she went "Ooof" as he slammed into her.   He held her wrists above her body, and she spread her legs wide.  He was excited.  She could tell how excited he was.

"Love me, Bobby," she whined.

He went in deep and abused her clitty, rubbing his hips back and forth until she exploded in an orgasm.  Then he let her hands loose, and she pulled him to her as he grunted, and shot her full of incestuous sperm.

"I love you, Linda," he sighed, just before he kissed her.

That kiss was really what she needed, though his strong, jetting semen in her pussy was very welcome too.

==================================

"You're sure about this?" asked Bobby.  He was sitting across from Liz at the Wagon Wheel, coffee cups in front of them.

"I asked him the same question," said Liz, staring steadily at Bobby.  "He said he was sure."

"This seems kind of off ... for his fantasy," said Bobby.  "I'm worried about you two."

"You know something?" said Liz, taking a sip.  

"What?" 

"You're not at all like I thought you'd be."  She still stared at him steadily.  She found it amazing that she could do that, since she had butterflies in her stomach.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"You actually care," she said.  

"Of course I care," he said.

"That's what I mean.  You hire out for sex ... but it's not like you're hiring out for sex."

"Look," he said.  "I'm not in this for the money.  It's nice.  It helps.  I've been able to help my sisters because of it, but that's not the deal here."

"I know that," she said.  "That's why you seem so different.  When we were in high school, you were scared to death of me."

"If we were back then, I'd probably still be scared to death of you."  He grinned.  "But that was a long time ago."

"Now, I'm scared to death of you," she said.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he responded.

"I know that too," she said.  "What scares me is that I'm attracted to you."

"I'm not interested in breaking up your marriage," said Bobby firmly.

"I also know that," she said.  "Jeff knows that too, I think.   He also knows how I feel about you.  I think that's why he wants us to do this."

"I don't get that part," said Bobby.  "He's always wanted to watch, before.  I can kind of get that.  But to just send us out on a date?  By ourselves?"

"I'm supposed to come back and describe what happened," she said.  "We did ... something like that ... after the garage.  He liked that a lot."

"What are we supposed to do on this date?" asked Bobby.

"I don't know," she said.  "I tried to get him to tell me, but he just wouldn't."

"What DID he say?" asked Bobby.

"He said that it should be like I had bumped into you, and remembered you from school.   You're supposed to ask me if I want to go do something, and I'm supposed to say OK.   After that, he wouldn't provide any details."

"Well, we obviously remember each other from school," said Bobby, smiling.

"Yes," she said, cracking a smile for the first time since they'd "bumped into each other" outside on the street.

"Unless we go to Wichita, or maybe Hutch, our options are pretty limited as to where we can go on a date," said Bobby.  "Everybody around here knows us."

"True," she said.

"I guess we could just drive around, like we would have in high school ... if I'd had the guts to ask you out, and you'd been charitable enough to accept, back then."

"You should have asked me out back then," she said.  "I might have said yes."

"I doubt that," he said.

"Well, for our purposes, you did, and I did.  Pick me up at eight?"

"OK," said Bobby, thought there was some doubt in his voice.

"What shall I wear?" she asked.

Bobby thought for a minute.  "You decide," he said.  "Wear whatever you would have wanted to wear back then, if you were going out with a boy that might get a little lucky."  He grinned.

Her stomach did flip flops.   The directness of this whole charade was both exciting, and a little daunting.   The games that people played, in their dating years, were being dispensed with.  That was refreshing, in one sense, except she wasn't really dating.  It was all a fantasy ... another little play to be acted out.

This time, though, the director would be absent ... waiting at home ... to find out what his actors had come up with.

======================================

Jeff lay on the bed, almost rigid with anticipation.  She had told him to be naked and ready, when she got home.  She'd said she'd be home by eleven, and it was eleven fifteen.   He'd been hard, off and on ever since she'd waved goodbye and blown him a kiss, walking out the door.   He didn't understand why she'd put her hair up in pig tails, and worn a pair of cutoffs that she'd spent an hour making ragged.  That and the man's short sleeved shirt, pulled up and tied under her breasts, with MAYBE one button buttoned above that, and no bra on either.    It had made her look like Daisy Duke, going out to get pregnant.

He wasn't worried.   He had it firmly in his mind that she'd come back to him.  He knew she would.  But ... she was fifteen minutes late.  

He heard the rattle of the front door, and her high pitched voice calling out "Thanks, Bobby ... bye!"

She appeared in the door of the bedroom, her shirt hanging open, no longer tied.  He could see most of her breasts.   Her hair looked wet, and her eyes were dark and wild.

"You're late," he complained.

"I know," she said, breathing fast.  "I'm sorry.  He kissed me good night.  We've been out in his car since eleven."  Her hands went to the button and zipper of the shorts and pushed.

"Like that?"  He pointed at her shirt.

"It's been like that since we left the swimming hole," she said, pushing her shorts down.  He saw she didn't have any panties to push down.  His prick leapt to full rigidity.

"Swimming hole?" he croaked.

"We went skinny dipping," she said, working her shirt off her shoulders.  Suddenly she was naked.  She almost ran to the bed.  Putting her hands on his chest, she mounted him feverishly.

"I need you so bad!" she moaned.  Then "Ahhhhhhhhhh" as she sank down on him, impaling herself in one quick drop.  She leaned forward.  "Suck my nipples, baby.  He sucked them.  I'm so horny!  Suck them honey!"

He delayed long enough to gasp "Start at the beginning," and captured a stiff pink nipple in his mouth.  

She wanted an orgasm quickly, but she disciplined herself.  He came first.  She rocked gently, grinding her clitty into his pubic bone as she began to describe the date.

"He picked me up and whistled!  He said I looked so good that it made him want to take me out behind the middle school and get me pregnant!" 

"Ohhh shit!" moaned Jeff.

"Well, I told him THAT wasn't going to happen!   He laughed!   Anyway, then we went and had burgers, fries and chocolate shakes, at the A&W," she said.  "Then we drove around for a while, just talking about old times.  He asked me all about what it was like for me, growing up.  He wanted to know about every boy who had ever touched me in high school.   I told him about you too ... all about how I was married now ... and that you didn't know about him."

She changed nipples, and went on. 

"Then we ended up at this pond, out in the country.   He drove in, past a farm house, like he lived there or something, and didn't care if anybody saw us.   But the pond was way away.   He said we should go swimming, and I told him I couldn't ... that I didn't have a suit.  He said we could skinny dip, and I reminded him I was married now.  He said nobody would ever know, and that it wouldn't hurt anything to just swim.  It WAS hot, and I thought the water would cool me off, so I let him talk me into that.   He said he wouldn't look."

She sped up, rocking faster.

"He lied.  The moon was full, and when I turned around, all naked, he was right there, looking at me."

"Ohhhh," moaned Jeff.  "He saw you naked?"

"Completely naked, honey!" she moaned herself.  "He said I was so beautiful, and that he was so foolish for never asking me out.  He said he'd had dreams about me.   He showed me ... he showed me his ... his erection!" she gasped.

"He was hard?" panted Jeff.

"He said it was because of me!" she squealed.  "He put his hand on it, and told me that if only he'd asked me out, way back then, maybe he could have fucked me!    He was SO nasty, honey ... talking like that to a married woman!"

Jeff lunged up into her.  "Go on!" he panted.

"Well, at first, we just kind of floated in the water, and talked some more.  Then I heard a coyote howling, and it scared me, and the next thing I knew he had his arms around me.  I felt his naked body right up against mine.  It was so naughty.   He said he'd protect me ... that everything would be all right, but then he KISSED me!  Right on the lips.  And he stuck his nasty tongue right inside my mouth and made me French kiss him like that."

"How long?" gasped Jeff.

"It seemed like an hour," she said.   "I can't remember because his hands were like an octopus.  They were everywhere.  I couldn't keep them away.  He tweaked my tender nipples, and put his hand between my legs, and all the time he was kissing me and I couldn't think!"

"Yeah ... Yeah," panted Jeff.

He had a blanket, and he said we could dry off on that, so that, when I came home, you wouldn't know I'd been skinny dipping.  So I HAD to leave my clothes off ... so I could get dry.   But then he started kissing me again ... and then we were lying down ... and then he was on TOP of me!"

"Ohhh fuck!" gasped Jeff.  "Did he put it in you, baby?"

"He tried.  He tried really hard, but I wouldn't let him.   He ALMOST got it in.  I could feel the tip of it rubbing up between my poor pussy lips."

She stopped talking, and rocked faster.  "Oh baby," she whined.  I need to cum so bad."

"OK, OK," he panted.  "Cum on my cock, baby."

She was already there and froze, then moved her hips in tiny circles, leaning down just enough to put the pressure where she wanted it.  Her pussy flexed and rippled.

"AHHHHH FUCK!" he groaned, and his prick spurt in her.

"Ohhhhhh honey we forgot the rubber," she moaned, feeling his liquid heat infusing her pussy.

Her orgasm over, she sat, and panted, catching her breath.  He was going soft in her, but it still felt good to sit and rub gently.

"You probably made a baby in me," she said softly.  "This is not a good time for this."

"I'm sorry," he panted.  "I just forgot.  Honest.  You were late, and I was so excited."

"I know," she said.  "I shouldn't have let him feel me up in the car like that, when I should have been in here with you."

"He felt you up?"

"I have lots more to tell you," she sighed.

"You want to take a shower and start again later?" he asked.

"Yeah," she sighed.  "That would be good.  I have pond water and semen all over me."

"Semen?" he choked.

She leaned down to kiss his lips gently.  

"I told you, I have lots more to tell you."

====================================

They spent an hour, naked, while she cleaned up and he fixed them a snack.  They had never just been naked together in the kitchen, and it was an interesting new experience for them both.   He loved olives, so she sat him in a chair and straddled him, pressing her breasts against his chest and then leaning back to feed him olives, while she resumed her story. 
"He wanted to put it in me," she whispered.  "He begged me to let him fuck me, but I wouldn't do it.  He tried everything."

"Everything?" whispered Jeff.

"He put his face ... down there," she said, blushing.   "He licked me."

She wasn't having any trouble blushing, because she remembered that part with exquisite detail.  She hadn't put up nearly as much resistance to all this as she was saying she had, or at least suggesting, in the little girl way she was telling the story.   They had lain on the blanket, kissing for a long time, and then he'd simply said "I'm going to give you an orgasm now."   He'd gotten up and moved to position her.   It had only taken minimal pressure to get her legs open, because she was now anticipating what she knew he was going to do.   It had been so delicious.   Jeff didn't give her nearly as much oral love as she would have liked, but she'd never felt comfortable asking him to do that.   If he wanted to ... he would ... wouldnt he?

"He licked me so good that I had another orgasm," she moaned, remembering the three orgasms she'd had as he sucked and licked and probed with his tongue.   He'd used the tip of his tongue on her clit for two of them.  That was all it had taken.  Just the tip of his tongue, flicking, and licking and circling, and then flicking again.

"He licked me so good I couldn't help it," she whined.   "I HAD to cum.  I would have gone crazy if I hadn't."

"It's OK," said her husband soothingly.  His hands pulled at her hips, to move her pussy closer to his cock.  She looked down to see him, stiff as a board.  "You couldn't help it."

"He crawled up on me again!" she whined.  "He tried to put it in me again!"

That part was only half true too.  What Bobby had done was use the tip of his prick to rub her clitty, giving her a fourth orgasm.

"I told him NO!"   As she said that, she lifted herself, reached for Jeff's prick, and scooted forward onto it, sighing as she was filled.

"He wanted to put it where yours is now," she whispered, kissing her husband and squeezing his penis with her pussy muscles.

"I had to be bad, to keep him from fucking me," she said, her voice rough.

"How bad?" panted Jeff, pulling her hips and digging as deeply into her as he could.

"I had to put my mouth on him," she said, just barely loud enough to be heard.

"You sucked him?" gasped Jeff.

"Yes," she said, her voice high and soft, almost a whine.   Her pussy muscles belied her false shame, milking the penis in her pussy.  Her pussy muscles shouted how excited she was at remembering having that beautiful uncircumcised prick in her mouth.  She wouldn't have been able to do that, if Jeff had been watching.  But, alone on a blanket, in the moonlight, she gave in to her urge to repay him for what he'd done.  She knew, deep in her heart that, after all those oral orgasms, while the tip of his prick was giving her the last one, he could have sunk deep into her ... violated her trust.  She wouldn't have been able to stop him ... at that moment she might even have welcomed him in her.   She knew she'd been as hot right then as she'd ever been in her life.  It had scared her, when she felt him there, at her entrance.   But he hadn't violated their trust.  He'd simply given her another orgasm.

"I put my mouth on him, so he wouldn't fuck me," she sighed.  "It was the only thing I could think of to do.  I was so stupid to even go out there with him."

"Did he ...?" panted Jeff.

"Did he squirt?" she asked.  "In my mouth?"

"Yes!" gasped her husband.

"I don't want to say," she moaned.  "I feel so slutty."

"He did!" moaned Jeff.  "He came in your mouth ... didn't he?"

"Yes," she cried, burying her face in her husband's neck.  

She hunched hard and fast, and felt him jerking.  She turned her face to his ear.

"You're not wearing a rubber again," she whispered.  "You're trying to knock me up.  I know you are.   You know I don't want to ruin my figure.  You know I'm not ready to be a mommy.  But you're trying, arent you?"

"Oh BABY!" he grunted.  "Oh honey, I'm so sorry!"

She felt him then, spurting deep inside her again.  She'd stood in the shower, feeling him draining out of her, and she'd closed off her pussy lips, trying to keep his semen in her.  She'd finally had to give up, but that was all right, because she knew the time would come, like now, when she would be full of spunk again.   She thought about that, dreamily.   Her attitude had changed a lot recently, about a lot of things.  She knew that, sooner or later, Bobby Dalton was going to fuck her.  She knew Jeff would get there, sooner or later.   She and Bobby had even talked about it, there on that blanket, after she'd had all those orgasms.  She'd told him that might happen.  She'd also explained about her ambivalence about starting a family.  


"Look," he'd said, lying on his side with his head propped up on his elbow and hand.   "You guys are playing a dangerous game.  I don't wear rubbers."

"Not ever?" she'd asked.

"Not ever," he'd said.   "If nature had wanted men to wear rubbers, they would have been born with them on."   It sounded silly, but it explained his point of view.

It was on the way home, with the windows down, and her shirt open, so Bobby could reach over and fondle her breasts as they drove, that she decided that Jeff needed to make the baby in her ... before Bobby did.

To that end, when she had kissed her husband some more, she pulled off of him, pressed her fingers to her pussy lips, and went to lie down, so it wouldn't drip out of her.

Chapter Six

When Bobby came in, after his date with Liz, Linda was asleep in his bed, naked.

He woke her up with his mouth, and she spread her legs for him.  It wasn't until he was nearing the end, that she gasped out: "I quit taking my pills!"

"You're stupid," he groaned.

Then he filled her full, pushing hard, trying to get the tip of his prick clear into her womb.

======================================

August came with little break from the heat.  The harvest had gone well, and people were generally in a good mood.   At Jeff and Liz's house, they were in a good mood too.  Liz hadn't told Jeff that she was going to let him get her pregnant, but, each time they'd had sex, she'd "forgotten" to remind him to put one on.  And, each time she sensed he was getting close, she THEN reminded him that he was doing something very dangerous.   She found out how much that impassioned him, and realized that she'd avoided this situation much too long.  Jeff wanted a baby and the thought of making one in her drove him crazy.

They had just finished such a lovemaking session, when he rolled to face her.

"How would you feel about going on another date?"

"With Bobby?" she asked, knowing that's who he meant.

"Of course," he said.  "I know you have fun with him.  I could tell, when you were describing it.  And you know I don't mind that.  I like it, in fact."

"I know," she said.  She'd liked it too.  "If you want me to, I will."

"Do you want to?" he asked.

"I told you, if you ..."

"Liz!" he interrupted her.  "Do you want to go on another date?"

She looked at him for a few seconds.

"OK, yes I do," she admitted.  "It's just that I'm worried I might let him ..."

"Don't tell me!" said Jeff, interrupting her again.  "I don't want to know until afterwards."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.  "I love you.  And I love what you do for me."

==================================

Liz looked at the calendar, and located the last big X on it, just to be sure.  She felt bloated, and tense ... two of the signs she was about to have her period.   She told Jeff he'd just have to wait.

Had she called him, it wouldn't have mattered.  He wasn't available anyway.    Both Felicity and Annie were occupying his time, and Amanda still called him to Hutchinson about once a week.   Jill and Christy wanted him every other week.  Jill had joined the staff of Christy's portrait studio full time.  They were gearing up to take school pictures and, once that started, they'd be busy for weeks.  They wanted Bobby now, while things were slow enough that they could take the time to enjoy him.  Prudence and his mother still wanted him, more often than in the past, because Ted, their former and still sometimes lover had been spending most of his energy on Flo, who was about to give birth.   

Added in there was the first birthday of Theodore, the love child of Bobby and his mother, and she was going all out to make it a huge celebration.

By the time Liz called Bobby, to arrange another date, he apologized, and told her he was booked up for another week and a half.    Sighing, she told Jeff he'd have to wait a little longer.

==================================

Bobby knocked on the door, and Liz opened it.   It was exactly ten days after she had ended her period, but that was forgotten in her excitement to see him again.  He handed her flowers, and she giggled with pleasure at that.

He had told her to wear a summer dress, but not where they were going.  She was, therefore, unprepared when he put her in a rusty old pickup truck and started out for the State Fair, in Hutchinson.   She had worn neither bra, nor panties, and objected, since her nipples could be seen through the flower pattern on her thin dress.   He simply told her she could tell Jeff about all the men who would undoubtedly leer at her.

As it turned out, she didn't stand out all that much.  There were a number of young women at the fair, many of them in cutoffs, tank tops, halter tops, and tube tops.  Most of them weren't wearing bras either.

It was the rodeo that got Liz going.  She'd never been to one, and had never thought to go to one.  With a funnel cake in one hand, and a 32 ounce drink in the other, she sat on a hard bench and watched.  She couldn't finish the funnel cake, but Bobby helped her.  Part of the reason was that she couldn't keep her eyes in one place.  There were strong, handsome and incredibly brave cowboys everywhere.  The bull riding made her wet and she wished she'd worn panties just because of that.   She shrieked as the clowns dared the bulls to charge, while the poor cowboys, thrown impossible distances, scurried to safety.

By the time they got back to the truck, she was inflamed, and didn't mind admitting it.

"You knew this would make me horny," she accused him, as they drove off.

"I kind of got the impression you were horny all the time anyway," he said, grinning.

"We've only got two and a half hours, before I have to be back," she said, checking her watch.  "It takes an hour just for the drive!"

"If you don't think I can take care of one horny woman in an hour and a half," he said sadly, "you're in BIG trouble!" he finished, with a grin.  "Look in the back," he said.

She looked through the back window of the truck, and, in the late evening glow of the sunset, she saw a mattress in the bed.

"You nasty boy!" she said.   "You're going to try to get into my panties!"

"You bet I am," he said, grinning.

"Well, you CAN'T!" she squealed triumphantly.  "'Cause I'm not WEARING any!"

"Show me," he said, his voice husky.

"Here?  In the truck?  With people driving by?"  She was scandalized.

"Nobody will see it," he said.  "Come on, pretty lady, give me a little beaver shot."

"Ooooo you're just AWFUL!" she moaned.

Her fingers told the real story, though, as they walked on her thighs, staying in one place, and the light fabric of her dress began gathering under her hands.   It came to her upper thighs and stopped.

"I can't see it yet," he said, leering.

"You just keep your eyes on the road," she said.

When no one was coming, she pulled it the rest of the way up, baring her copper colored curls.

"Spread your legs," urged Bobby.   "Let me see that luscious pussy of yours."

She turned her back to the door and leaned against it, drawing her left knee up and laying it flat on the bench seat, between them. 

"Ooooo this is so nasty," she whispered.

"You should shave your pussy," he commented.  "It would look so good bare and soft."

"Oh!" she gasped.   "I couldn't possibly do that!"

"You should have Jeff shave it," said Bobby.   "Tell him you're going to show it to me after he shaves it."

"Do you think he'd like that?" she asked, her pussy still on display.

"I think he'd love that," said Bobby. "I'd love to see it shaved."  He looked at the road, and then back at her.  "If you're too horny, you can play with yourself, if you want."

"Oh my GOSH you're so nasty!" she squealed.   

"Go on," he urged.  "Give yourself a little pleasure.   You still have forty miles before I can do it for you."

Tentatively, at first, she barely touched her pussy lips.  She flamed red at doing this in front of him.  She'd never even let Jeff see her do this.   But, whenever he looked forward, she rubbed one fingertip in circles around her clitty and bit her lip to hold in a moan.  He looked at her and she stopped.

"Don't stop on my account," he said.  "I think it looks sexy."

Then she went to work on herself, rubbing and even sinking a finger into her.   She came hard, and didn't try to hold in her groans of pleasure this time.

"Oh yeah," he said.  "Get that baby primed for me."

"Ohhhhh, you're just awful!" she moaned, starting again.   This, piled on top of the rodeo, was so exciting that she couldn't stop, once she'd gotten through the first cum.   Over the next fifteen miles, she came three more times.

"Stop!" she panted.   "Find somewhere to pull over.  I need you now!"

Seeing a grove of trees up ahead in the dying daylight, Bobby suspected a house.  He slowed down and, to his delight, saw it was abandoned, and falling down.  He pulled into the overgrown drive and behind the house.

She had lowered the tail gate and was climbing in the back of the truck when he got there.  He stopped her and flipped her dress up onto her back.  Reaching between her legs, he caressed her pussy lips as she lifted one leg and groaned.  She rolled, flopping onto her back, her dress up around her waist, and he crawled up to push his face into her pussy.  Two orgasms later, he stopped.  The dress was loose enough that he just pulled it down over her shoulders, so she could pull her arms out of the sleeves, baring her breasts.

"Suck them," she moaned.

He did that, and remembered how wild she had gotten last time, when he'd used the tip of his prick to rub her clit.  He was doing that when she pushed him away.

"On your back!" she panted.  She sat up as he shucked his shirt and jeans, kicking his boots off into the dirt under the tail gate.

He expected her to suck him off but, holding her dress up, she scrambled on top of him.

"I have to do this," she panted, reaching for his stiff prick.  

She held it up, lifted her butt up off of him, notched it into her sex, and slowly sank down on it.

"Ohhhh yesss," she sighed.  "I knew you'd feel so good."

"Careful," he warned.  "I wasn't expecting this."

"Me neither," she moaned, starting to whip her loins back and forth.  "It feels so different," she panted.  She leaned over, to let her breasts dangle in front of his face.

"Suck them some more ... I'm so close."

He did, and felt her pussy muscles start spasming almost immediately.   She was strong ... much stronger than he'd anticipated.  It was almost like he was being masturbated, even as she sat up straight and froze.  Her fingers flashed to her clit and rubbed in a peculiar way as her face went into a grimace and she opened her mouth in a silent scream.

He felt it happening ... tried to stop it, but couldn't.

"LIZ!" he yelled.

Whether it was his tone of voice, or the fact that her pussy felt him swell, she understood the danger.  The problem was she was on her knees and, when she lifted, the tip was still in her.   She felt the first wash of warmth in her pussy as she dragged one foot up, and put her hand on his chest.  She pushed with hand and foot, while the other hand dragged at her dress, so she could see.  Her pussy came off him, gaping open, just as his second shot fired into the maw of her sex.  His third shot painted her pubic hair as his penis began to fall toward his stomach.   Felling a burst of lust that would later make her tremble in her husband's arms, she scooted back, pressing her weeping pussy on his knee as she grabbed his prick and lowered her mouth onto it.   The last time she had done this, on the previous date, she had been startled by the amount of semen he produced.  Jeff usually pulsed three times, and was done.  Bobby had grunted five times, and she had swallowed out of pure self defense.    Now, as she rubbed her pussy lips against his knee, she swallowed quickly, and then again, loving his taste.  

===================================

Sated, a little embarrassed at her wild and lewd behavior, and feeling guilty, Liz sat and let the wind blow through the open window.  Her hair whipped around her face, and she finally raised her hands to gather it and hold it behind her head.

"You OK?" asked Bobby.  They were just entering Granger.

"I don't know," she said.  "I think so."

"You want me to talk to Jeff?"

She shook her head.  "I don't think he'll be mad."

"But you feel guilty anyway," said Bobby.

"Yes," she said.

"Talk to him," said Bobby. "Explain how you felt.  You still love him, and that's what he needs."

"I DO love him," she said.  "I shouldn't have let things go that far."

"Just talk to him."

===================================


He was waiting for her, in bed, like before.  She was on time, tonight, fifteen minutes early, in fact.   She walked quietly to the bed and stood there, her head hanging.

"I did a bad thing tonight," she said, tears leaking from her eyes.

He got up, and held her, while she cried.   He took her dress off, and laid her on the bed.  Spreading her legs, he looked.   Her pussy hair was matted with milky white cum.  Bobby hadn't had a rag, or towel in the truck.

"He put it in you," sighed Jeff, staring at the evidence.

"I let him," she sobbed.

"Did he cum in you?" asked Jeff, his voice shaky.

"I made him pull out," she whimpered.  She couldn't admit that one strong shot had gone up inside her.  "It got all over me, and I couldn't clean up, and I'm so sorry I lost control."

He stopped staring at his wife's sperm-drenched pussy hair.  Her pussy lips were closed, and looked normal.  He moved up to her face and kissed her cheeks and nose and chin.

"My darling," he said.  "This is my fault.  I made you do this."

"I want you," she moaned.   "I wanted you, but you weren't there, and I got so excited ..."

"Do you want me now?" he asked.

"YES!" she almost screamed.  "PLEASE, Jeff, make love to me!"

Oddly, tonight, he went forever, stroking her and telling her he loved her, and that it didn't matter.   She crushed him to her, thanking him over and over for still loving her.   She didn't feel the urge to have an orgasm until she felt him spill his seed in her, deep ... deeper than Bobby had.

"Don't stop," she moaned.  "Just keep rubbing me there."

He did, and, knowing that her husbands seed was deeper than Bobby's she let herself celebrate that.   This orgasm was sweet, and long, and she wished it would never end.

An hour later, they made love again.

Two hours later, he asked for the details.  Again, she rode him while she told him what had happened.  This time she got all the way through it before he exploded.   He made it quite clear to her that he was not angry with her for what had happened.

By morning, she felt calm, refreshed, and at peace with everything that had taken place.

=====================================

It was pure chance that led Bobby to be at Florence and Ted's house when her water broke.  Ted was at work.  School had been in session for barely a week.  Flo, her abdomen bulging with life, leaned too hard on the old sink fastened to the bathroom wall, and it fell with a clang.  Water started squirting everywhere.   It was, as they all looked at it later, an oddly prophetic event.   In a panic, Flo called home, as she still thought of it, and Bobby answered.  Ten minutes later he turned the valve that shut off water to the house.

They stood and surveyed what looked like two inches of water on the bathroom floor, which was happily spreading through the doorway and moving steadily toward the rest of the house.  Flo, with one hand in the middle of her back to ease the pressure her bulging belly caused the muscles there, found a mop and handed it to Bobby.

He had just finished wringing out the last mopful of water into the toilet when there was a splatter of new fluid between Flo's feet.

"Oh my!" she yipped.   

Dressed only in her robe, she opened it to look down, which didn't do any good at all, since all she could see was what seemed like a mountain of flesh.   Then, her whole belly writhed, as if her skin was trying to change its form into something else.

"AHHHHHH" she screamed as the pain of a contraction gripped her.

Bobby looked appreciatively at her nearly nude pregnant form and grinned.

"As much as I love looking at you like that," he said calmly.  "I suspect I should take you to the hospital instead."

Flo was not amused.

Bobby had plenty of time, after he got her to the emergency room, to go to the school and wade through the bureaucracy there to get word to Ted that his wife was having a baby, collect a clearly elated, but panic stricken brother-in-law, and get back to the hospital before anything of any real import happened.   He called Prudence's house, where his mother was, and was informed that he had babysitting duty there.   

He took care of three of the children he had produced, while his sister gave birth, attended by her mother.  Prudence took care of Ted, who was a basket case, in the waiting room.

The little girl, who fought her way from Flo's womb later that day, was clearly Ted's daughter.  Her hair was the same brown as his.  Her nose was the same pug shape as his.  Her eyes were the same brown as his.   And, most telling of all, she had the same star-shaped birthmark on her left hip that Ted had.

Mirriam gave a sigh of relief.

Florence, her eyes filled with awe, examined her newborn daughter, like every mother does.   Her finger traced the birthmark, a miniature of the one she had put her finger on many times, as she lay in bed with her husband.

"Your name," she said to the little girl, "is Star."

Chapter Seven

On a day late in August, Bobby knocked on Liz and Jeff's front door.  He had a bottle of wine with him, and was dressed semi-casually.  That was primarily because he had no idea what was going to happen that night.  He was there in response to a somewhat formal invitation to attend the celebration of their wedding anniversary.  Dinner would be served.

Jeff answered the door and smiled, sticking out his hand.

"Congratulations," said Bobby, smiling back.

"Thanks," said Jeff.  "Come on in.  She's still in the kitchen, doing some kind of magic with a roast."

They went into the living room, where a football game was on TV.  Jeff took the wine and disappeared.   When he came back, they sat and chatted, while they watched the game.   It was the first time Bobby had had a chance to say much to the man, but the atmosphere was relaxed in a way that made it seem like they had known each other for a long time.  At first, the talk was all about the game, but, eventually, other topics were discussed.

"You probably think I'm some kind of freak," said Jeff, suddenly, and without prelude.

Bobby looked at him.   "I wouldn't have put it that way."

"How would you have put it?" asked Jeff.

Bobby thought about it.  "Different, maybe.   I haven't really thought about it that much."

Jeff was clearly surprised.

"You don't think I'm some kind of weirdo?"

"Who am I to decide what's weird and what's not?" asked Bobby.  "A lot of people would say what I do is weird, or twisted, or something like that."

"Being a gigolo, you mean," said Jeff.

"That's a good example.  I don't know how you feel about yourself, but I don't actually think of myself as a gigolo," said Bobby.  "Sometimes people pay me, but that's not why I do it."

"You do it just for the sex?" asked Jeff.

"That's part of it," admitted Bobby.  "It's complicated in some ways.  Sex, these days, in this society, is everywhere.  Everybody is involved in it, or wants to be, but it seems to drive people apart, instead of bring them together.   For me, it's more important that sex brings people together.  I think that's what it was intended to be for."

Jeff laughed.  "You know, a month or two ago, I would have looked at you like you were crazy, for saying that.  I mean sex, by its very nature, brings people together.  But I know what you mean, and now, I agree with you.  As odd as it sounds, Liz and I are closer now than we've ever been."

"I'm glad," said Bobby.  "I was worried that it wasn't going to work out."

"That's what makes you different from all the other men I know," said Jeff, quite seriously.  "Most men would have jumped at the chance to get whatever they could from Liz, and wouldn't have given a damn about whether it caused problems or not."  

"Maybe it's because I was raised with seven sisters, by a single mother," said Bobby.  "My focus has always been on paying attention to women's needs."  

"Well, whatever it is, I just want to say thanks," said Jeff.

"Now that is what makes YOU different from most men I know," said Bobby, grinning.  "Most men would be after my hide.  You're a very strong man."

Jeff sighed.  "That's the opposite of how I see myself.  I think of myself as weak, and unable to conquer my desires."

Bobby snorted.  "No weak man could stand by and watch his wife being pleasured by another man.  To have that much confidence in yourself, and your wife, is something I hope to be able to have some day.  And I'll tell you this too.  I don't know Liz as well as I know some people, but she's strong.   Some of this has been hard on her.  She loves you enough that that has taken her through the rough spots."

"I know," said Jeff quietly.  "I think that's what got ME through the rough spots too."

Liz walked into the room.  She was wearing the same summer dress she had worn when Bobby took her to the Rodeo.   Without a word, she went to Bobby, leaned over, and kissed him firmly on the lips.

"Welcome to our home," she said.

Then she went to her husband and kissed him just as ardently.

"Dinner is ready," she said.

The meal was as unremarkable as it was possible to be.  Bobby got them to tell him how they met, which generated a couple of humorous stories about their early relationship.  The food was good, and the conversation enjoyable.   They lingered, sipping wine, until Liz stood up.    

"Anybody want to dance?" she asked.

They moved back to the living room, and Liz went to the record player, where a record was already mounted.  She had obviously planned this.

The music was slow, and with no words.  She danced first with Jeff, swaying with him and rubbing up against him.

"Bobby is your present from me, tonight," she said into Jeff's ear.

"Oh?" 

"I'm going to be very naughty with him," she said, pushing her loins against him.

"How naughty?" asked Jeff, his respiration increasing.

"Very naughty," she said.

"Ohhhhh," he sighed.

She danced next with Bobby.

"I want to show him what we've done on our dates," she whispered.

"All of it?" he asked.

"All of it," she answered, pushing her loins against him.  "It's important that you only do what I ask you to do, though."

"All right," he said, stroking her back.

"Will you do that for me?" she asked.

"Of course," he said.

When the song was over, she took him by the hand and pulled him toward Jeff, who was sitting down in his favorite chair.

"I'm horny, honey," she said, making her voice young.  "Can I play with Bobby a little?"

Jeff gulped, and nodded.

"I want to play with him in the bedroom.  Do you want to come with us?"  She batted her eyes at her husband.

His eyes bright, he nodded again.

When they all got there, it was obvious she had planned this, because there was a chair in the bedroom for Jeff to sit in.   She turned to him.

"Gee, honey, it would be all wrong to let him take my clothes off.  Would you do that for me?"  She kissed him.

His hands fumbled, as she turned her back, to let him unbutton the buttons that went all the way down her back.   When she felt him get to the bottom, she stepped away, holding the dress on by crossing her arms and putting a hand on each shoulder.

"I was naughty, when I put this dress on," said Liz.   "I didn't put on any underwear."

She pulled the dress forward and it fell in a puddle around her feet, leaving her naked.

"Ooooo" she said, covering her breasts.  "I forgot something!"  She looked at her husband.  "Will you help me with something else?"

"Of course, darling," rasped Jeff.

"OK!" she said, brightly.  "I'll be right back!"

She bounced out of the room, and both men's eyes were glued to her bouncing buttocks.

Bobby sighed.  "Do you know what's going on here?" he asked.

"No," rasped Jeff.  "She didn't say anything ... just that she had a present for me."

"You OK?" asked Bobby.

"I'm fine," said Jeff.  "Believe me, I'm fine.  When she acts like this, something really good is going to happen."

Liz came into the room with another chair, just like Jeff's.  She put it on the floor in front of his chair, kissed him, and left again.  When she came back, she had a towel over her arm, a bowl of water in her hands, a can of shaving cream tucked under her chin, and a safety razor in her fingers.   She sat on the empty chair, put the bowl of water on her husband's lap, handed him the shaving cream and razor, and then sat back, scooting her butt to the edge of the chair, and spreading her legs wide ... like only a cheerleader can spread her legs.

"I want to see what it looks like when there's no hair down there," she said, sweetly.

"You want me to shave your pussy?" squeaked Jeff.

"Somebody," she looked over at Bobby, "told me I might look good with a shaved pussy."

Jeff was sweating now.  He leaned forward, the razor in his hand.  It was shaking.

"I don't know if I can, baby," he moaned.

"You have to put on the shaving cream first," she said.

He dropped the razor into the water, and picked up the can, pointed at his other hand.  Then he changed, and pointed it at her pussy.  From a foot away, he pressed the release, and a stream of shaving cream splatted right onto her pussy lips.

"Ooooo!  That tickles!" she said.   "I think you missed.  You'll have to rub it ... higher."

Jeff's hand darted forward to push the mushy mess up, over the top of her split, and onto the curls above that.

"Mmmmm," she said.  "That feels nice.  I see why you men love to shave so much."  She scooted forward a tiny bit more.  "Rub it in good.  I don't want to get cut."

He did, and she let him know how much she liked it, and what a good job he was doing.   He fished the razor out of the water, but his hand was still shaking.

"Maybe Bobby should help us," she said, staring straight into her husband's eyes.  "Maybe his hand isn't shaking like that."

Jeff sat back suddenly, and his arm went up, the razor in his hand.  Bobby took it, silently, and waited.  Jeff jerked and jumped up, since Liz wasn't moving, to give Bobby his chair.  He knelt beside it as Bobby sat down.

Bobby "re-rubbed" the cream into her, obviously rubbing places where there was no hair.  He said he was sorry, but was grinning.   He started on one side, moving in, and then went to the top, moving down.  He put the fingers of his other hand right on her clit, to pull and tug her flesh taut.

"You're not supposed to touch me there," she chided, breathing faster.  "I'm a married woman, you know."

Bobby ignored her, and continued to cut the hair off, baring starkly white skin, until the right side was bare, all the way to her pussy lips.  She hadn't brought a wash cloth, so he just scooped some water out of the pan and splashed it on her mons, wiping it.

"What are you doing?" she asked.  

Bobby turned to Jeff.

"What do you think?" he asked, casually.  "Half bald, half hairy.  Kind of has an interesting look, don't you think?"

Jeff was staring, but darted his eyes toward Bobby's face.

"Think we should just leave it like that?" asked Bobby.

Jeff took a breath, and his face lost some of its wild-eyed look.

"It IS interesting," he said.  "But which half is yours, and which is mine?  How do we decide that?"   

"You guys!"  Liz broke her little girl character.  "You're teasing me!"

Jeff picked up the shaving cream.

"I think all bald is probably more common," he said.

He squirted another stream at her pussy.  Bobby reached to rub it in and stuck a finger inside her pussy.  She jumped, and almost slid off the chair.  Bobby left his finger in her, helping her get back on.

"Ooooo!" she said, back in character again.  "He's being AWFULLY naughty with me now, Jeff!"

"Let him finish," said Jeff, his voice stronger.

Bobby cleared away the rest of the hair and then rubbed the towel over her sex to remove all traces of shaving cream.  Her pussy lips were distended and thick.  Even though the towel had just rubbed them, they glistened with a sheen of dampness.

She stood up and moved to where her husband was kneeling.

"Did he get it all?" she asked, shoving her naked mons against her husband's nose.  "Is it nice and smooth?"  She grabbed his head and rubbed his face against her shaven pussy.   He must have licked her, because she purred.  Then she pushed his head away.

"It's smooth," he gasped.  "I like it a lot."

She giggled and went to lie on the bed.  Drawing her knees up, she let them fall outward, exposing herself as much as she had been before.

"Bobby?  He's probably biased," said Liz.  "You should check to make sure you got every hair.   I wouldn't want one to peek out of my bikini and embarrass me."

Bobby stood, wiping his hands on the towel.

"Ooooo," she said.  "Your clothes might have shaving cream on them ... or some of my hairs.   I don't want to get those on the bed.  You should take your clothes off first."

Bobby silently got naked, as the other two watched him.

He crawled onto the bed, between her spread thighs, and looked at her newly shaven pussy.

"I think I missed some shaving cream," he said, and leaned forward to lick her split, from bottom to top, with the flat of his tongue.

"AHHHHHH," she moaned.   She gulped for breath.  "He's being naughty, Jeff," she complained.  She lifted her head, to look at the top of Bobby's head.  "You shouldn't do that!  I'm married!"

"I'm just cleaning you up," said Bobby. "That's all."

Then he licked and sucked her to orgasm.   She complained for the next two minutes, verbally, but her hands came to his head and held him there, until she quit complaining.

"Jeff!" she gasped.  "He's gonna make me cum, honey.  Can I have an orgasm ... pleeeeease?"

"Yes," he choked.

"OHHHHHHH thank youuuuuuu!" she cried, bucking her pussy up against Bobby's face.

He licked her until she pushed him away and rolled, closing her legs.  She stood up quickly and went behind Bobby to push him flat on his stomach, on the bed.   He could have resisted her, but was playing it by ear.

She slapped his butt twice ... hard.

"You were BAD!" she said.  "I TOLD you I was married, and you did that anyway!

"It was fun!" he said, over his shoulder, a grin on his face.

"It's not fair!" she said.  "You got to see me, and you made me feel good.  Turn over, mister!"

He did and she crawled up on the bed between his thighs, pushing them apart, until her face was right over his cock and balls.

"Oh look, Jeff!" she squealed.   "His looks all different than yours."

"It does?" asked a panting and somewhat bewildered Jeff.

"Uh huh!  Take your clothes off and come over here ... I'll show you!"

Jeff started slow, but almost tripped trying to get his pants off his feet.  He pushed his underwear down.  He was as hard as Bobby was.

"Your shirt too," she commanded.  "You look funny in a shirt and no pants."

He took that off and came to the side of the bed, where she gestured.  Her hand reached out and grasped his prick.

"See?" she said.  Then she went into a comparison of the two penises, holding Bobby's in one hand, and Jeff's in the other.  She did a lot of jerking on them while she did that.

"I wonder if he tastes different too," she said, as if she were talking to herself.

Still holding her husband's penis tightly, she lowered her mouth onto Bobby's and sucked for ten or fifteen seconds.  Then she pulled off of him and, while holding HIS penis in her other hand, pulled her husband's to where she could put her mouth on it.  She sucked him for ten or fifteen seconds too.

She sat back on her haunches, her upper chest and face flushed.

"I can't tell," she said softly.   "They both taste good."

She looked from one to the other.

"I wonder if they feel different?" she said to herself.  She put one finger to her lips, and looked up, like she was thinking hard.  "How could I tell?" she asked.  She looked at her husband.  "Don't go anywhere," she said, her voice low and filled with passion.

She got up on her feet, stepped forward and began to squat.

"I'll have to compare them this way too," she said.

She reached between her legs and spread her naked pussy lips with two fingers of one hand, and reached for Bobby's iron hard prick with the other.  She brought them together and, slowly, inched her pussy down onto Bobby's prick.   Jeff leaned forward, staring as her pussy slowly moved down the stiff shaft, and her pussy lips spread around the base of his cock.

"Mmmmmm," was all she said, at first.

She pulled back up and reached for it again.  There was a wet, sucking sound as her pussy came clear of the tip, and hovered an inch above it.

"Look Jeff," she said.  "I can feel my pussy pushing the skin off the tip."

She let herself down, and they could all see the foreskin being pushed down, bunched up at first, as it began to disappear inside her again.  She dropped, and rotated her hips, looking up at the ceiling.

"Uhhhhhhhh," she groaned.   "It DOES feel different," she panted.

"Oh baby," sighed Jeff.

"I think," she added.

She pulled off again, and stood up.

"Get on the bed, Jeff," she said.   

Like he was in a dream, Jeff went to the other side of the bed.  He lay down carefully, several inches away from Bobby.  She stepped over, straddled him, and did the same thing she'd done with Bobby, lowering herself until he penetrated her. 

"Mmmmmm," she said.  "Yes ... definitely different.  This is what I'm used to.   He feels different."  

She rubbed for a minute and then stopped.

"I wonder if it would feel different with him on top."

She stood, and Bobby got off the bed, anticipating what was next.  She lay down and spread herself for him.

Bobby got between her legs and eased himself into her.  Her sigh made it quite clear she enjoyed the feeling.  

"I can't tell for sure," she panted.  "Maybe you should move it around a little."

He fucked her for five minutes, during which she had a very obvious and very audible orgasm, describing it in detail to her husband.  Jeff got so excited that he began masturbating.

"Stop that!" she panted, reaching over to grip his wrist.  "I have to be able to compare."

She pushed at Bobby, who pulled out of her with a sigh, his prick dripping.  He got off the bed, and Jeff took his place, slamming into his wife.

"Not so rough!" she complained.  "I can't tell the difference if you're rough."   

He slowed a bit, and she told him she was going to have another orgasm.  When that was over, she panted and pulled Jeff's face down for a long kiss.  When that was over she held his face inches from hers.

"I wonder if it would feel different if he ... squirted in me."

"AHHHRRRRRGGGGG."   A groan exploded from Jeff's lungs, and his prick jumped as it fired off into her pussy.

"Ooooo, you're cumming in me, darling!" she panted.   "You're not wearing a rubber and you're cumming in meeee!"

Jeff collapsed, gasping for breath, and her hands roamed over his back.

"Should I see if it feels different, honey?" she whispered in his ear.

"Ohhhhhh," he moaned.

His answer came as he rolled off of her, to lie limply beside her.  Her legs were still spread, and she rolled her head, to look at Bobby.

Without a word, Bobby remounted her, sliding into her exceedingly hot ... exceedingly wet pussy.

Jeff groaned as he rolled to his side, watching.

"No rubber," he panted.   It wasn't clear what he meant.

"Of course not, silly," moaned Liz.  "I couldn't see if it felt different if he was wearing a rubber."

She squealed her way through an orgasm as Bobby sped up.  He was pounding into her now, but she no longer said anything.

"I ... could ... pull ... out," he panted to the woman straining under him.

"I wouldn't ... be able ... to tell ... the difference," she panted back.

Her head rolled towards Jeff.

"Can he?" she gasped.  "Can he cum in me?"

Jeff's face twisted.  He looked like he was in agony.

"Yes," he whispered.

Liz put her hands on Bobby's shoulders.  She teased him then.

"Jeff says you can cum in me, Bobby," she panted.  "But be careful.  I'm fertile, Bobby.  Don't cum too much."

Bobby almost growled and pounded her rapidly.

"I let him cum in me first," she gasped. "So he could make me pregnant.  Don't cum in me TOO much, Bobby."

Bobby stopped, deep inside her.

"He's doing it!" squealed Liz, looking over at Jeff.  "I can feel him squirting, Darling!"

Bobby gave her two exquisite shots, and then jerked out, rising to his knees and right hand.  With his left, because Jeff was on that side, he gripped his prick and aimed it at her gaping, already sperm-filled pussy lips.  Three more streams shot out, making a complete mess of her bald pussy as it was thickly coated.   He wanted to lie back down on her, but he rocked back to sit on his haunches, leaving her pussy visible to Jeff, who was staring at it, his mouth open.

Her hand went to her pussy and she rubbed furiously, spreading the mess around.

"Kiss me, Darling," she moaned.

Jeff leaned over to weld his lips to hers.  His hand pushed hers away, and he rubbed for her, sliding his fingers up into her, as if he were trying to stuff all that sperm inside her.

When she began to buck and cum, Bobby eased himself off the bed.  He quietly picked up his clothes.  Jeff was still fingerfucking her as their kiss went on and on.  From their lips came the muffled sounds of something like two animals fighting as they moaned and growled into each other's mouths.

Bobby got dressed in the living room, and went out to his car.

Chapter Eight

Bobby didn't hear from Liz for two weeks.   He thought that maybe their curiosity had finally been assuaged ... that Jeff's needs had been met ... that they could move on to ... whatever.

Then as September began to produce mild days and cool nights, he got another call.  

"The last time I saw you, it looked like one of your tires was low," she said, without preamble.  "You should probably drop into the station and get that checked."

"I see," said Bobby.  "When do you suppose I should do that?"

"Jeff might have time to fit you in around six, this evening," she said.  "Would that work for you?"

"I should be done with work by then," said Bobby.

"Good.  I want you to be safe," she said.

That was it.   

When he got there, and the closed sign was in the window, but the garage door went up anyway, he drove in.  It was clear from the beginning that this was a continuation of a previous fantasy.  Liz was there, dressed in a very short skirt and the same shirt she'd worn when they went skinny dipping, tied under her breasts again.    Jeff was nowhere to be seen. 

She closed the garage door as he got out.

"Can I help you sir?" she asked.  "My husband owns the garage, but he's gone right now.  We're actually closed."

"Gone, huh?" said Bobby, playing along.  "When will he be back?"

"It might be quite a while," she said.  "He's out fixing a flat tractor tire."

"I need my tires checked," said Bobby, not quite knowing where to go from there.

"Oh, I could do that for you," she said sweetly.  "I'll show you how to do that."  She got a tire gauge.  "You might want to stand back, a little, so you can see everything."

She bent over, straight legged.  Her feet were about a foot and a half apart.   The short skirt pulled up, and showed she wasn't wearing panties.  Her naked pudendum hung down.

"You have to unscrew this little cap," she said, taking her time doing that, and looking up at him, over her shoulder.  "Then you press this thing against that little thing that sticks out."  She did that.  "See how something comes out of the tube?" she asked.  She stood up, flushed, and showed him the white stick that had red and black numbers on it.

"I think I understand," he said.  "Could you show me again?"

"Certainly, sir," she said, smiling.

She went through it again, not speaking.  She looked over her shoulder, and wagged her butt at him.  "Just like that," she said, standing up.

"Do you think you could show me how to check the oil?" he asked.

"A big, strong man like you doesn't even know how to check his oil?" she said, raising one eyebrow.

"I had a sheltered childhood," he said.

"Well, I guess I could show you that."  

She pulled the hood release and got the hood open.  She looked around and went to the wrong side of the car, leaning over and stretching to reach the dip stick.   Her feet came off the floor and her legs spread as she stretched.

"Let me help stabilize you," said Bobby, stepping between her spread legs.  He pressed his jeans-covered boner against her naked butt, and put his hands on her waist.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"I wouldn't want you to fall off the car," he said.

"You shouldn't touch me like that!" she said, looking back over her shoulder.

He pushed the skirt up to her waist, exposing her naked buns.

"Like this?" he asked, putting his hand on her naked flesh and squeezing.

"Stop that this instant!" she cried.  "I told you, I'm a married woman!"

"Why would a married woman be going around without any panties on?" he asked, massaging her butt.

"That's for my husband!" she yipped.  "It's none of your business!  I didn't realize it would show!"

"I think you did," said Bobby.  "I think you're teasing me."

"Certainly not!" she huffed.  "Now, let me go!"

Bobby pulled her back toward him and, as her feet touched the floor, he slid his hands to her breasts, cupping them.

"Just as I thought," he murmured into her hair.  "No bra on those pretty titties either."

"You can't touch me like that!" she moaned.  "Let me go!"

"Oh, come on, baby," he cooed in her ear, licking it and running his hands all over the front of her shirt.  "You're hot to trot.  I know you are.  Let's just have a little fun."

"Noooooo," she cried.  "I love my husband.  You can't do this to me!"

He turned her around and kissed her.   She quit resisting then, and brought her arms up around his neck.   He pressed her against the fender of the car and rubbed her with his lump.  She rubbed back.

Still kissing her, he reached out and pushed on the hood, which closed with a thump.  Then his hand went to the knot in the shirt and worried it loose.    She pulled her arms back and pushed at his chest, making it look like she was resisting, but, in actuality, giving him room to undo the knot.

"You mustn't do this," she pleaded.  "I've never cheated on my husband!"

"He'll never know," panted Bobby.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking down at his hand as it undid the rest of the knot.

"I have to see them," said Bobby.   "I bet they're pretty."

"Noooooo," she moaned, pushing back at him and, in the process, bending over backwards to lie on the fender.   He flipped the sides of the shirt apart and her very pink, very erect nipples popped into view.

"Oh yeah!" said Bobby.  He leaned over and sucked one stiff nipple.

"Noooooo," she whined.   "Stop this instant!"

Bobby didn't stop.  He just sucked harder, and his hand went under her skirt to slide a finger between naked, slippery pussy lips.  

"AAACK" she gasped, reaching to pull her skirt up and spread her legs, so that a hidden Jeff could see what was happening.  "Not there ... don't touch me there!"

Bobby worked on her until she shuddered and announced she was cumming, telling him what a horrible man he was to make her cum like that.  He removed his finger from her pussy and worked his jeans loose, pushing them down to his thighs.   He reached and lifted her hips, pulling her feet off the ground.  Her spread thighs hit his hips and she lifted her head and tried to look down.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, still out of breath from her orgasm.

"I'm going to sample this pretty pussy of yours," he leered.

"NO!" she screamed.  "YOU CAN'T!  NOT THAT!"

He pushed in and she groaned.

"I'M FERTILE!" she screamed.  "DON'T DO THIS!  WE'RE TRYING TO HAVE A BABY!"

"I'll just help you a little," grunted Bobby, starting to slide in and out.

"NOOOOO PLEASE, I'M OVULATING!" she screamed.  "DON'T ... UHHH ... OH PLEASE .... AHHHHHHH ... YOU CAN'T ... SHIT IT FEELS SO GOOD ... NO ... PLEASE ... AHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEE," she squealed as she came hard.  Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him hard into her and letting him put his hands on her breasts.  He squeezed and pulled at her nipples.

"You like that, don't you." he panted.  "You're a horny bitch, arent you?"

"Nooooo," she moaned.   "I love my husband.  You shouldn't be doing this!   You shouldn't make me cum like this!"

Bobby rodded her with long, strong strokes.

"Nooo," she moaned.  "You're making me do it again!"

She set up a chant of "Don't", followed by a long pause and then "Stop!"  It got faster and faster until it merged into "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!"

Then, as Bobby powered into her one last time, froze, and grunted, she wailed.

"NOOOOOOO I CAN FEEL YOU SQUIRTING IN MEEEEEEEEE!"

She went limp then, falling back on the hood of the car and letting her head roll, with the natural tilt of the metal.  Bobby grunted several more times, giving little pushes that rocked her, and made her breasts wobble and shake.

"There you go, baby," he panted.  "That's for you and your husband."

He backed up, leaving her splayed on the car.  Her gaping pussy lips were full of thick white spunk, which began to ooze out of her.

"You horrible man," she moaned.  "You probably made me pregnant!"

She struggled up and slid off the car, leaving a big smear of his sperm that helped her butt slide off.   She stood, legs apart, and lifted her skirt up, looking down to see a long drip of sperm leave her pussy lips and stretch out.  The string broke and a blob splatted onto the grimy concrete between her feet.

"Look what you did!" she whined.  "How will I ever explain this to Jeff?"

"Don't," said Bobby, pulling his jeans back up and fastening them.  "It will be our little secret.  You had a good time.  Let's just leave it at that."

"I did NOT have a good time!" she yelled.

"You came three times," said Bobby, grinning.

"I couldn't help that!" she moaned.  "I didn't WANT to."

"Well, think about that," said Bobby, strutting.  "Next time, if you decide you want to, you might cum four or five times."

"There won't BE a next time, you horrible man.  Leave, at once!"

"OK, said Bobby carelessly.  "Thanks for all the things you showed me."  He laughed, and went to the garage door, opening it.   He got in his car and backed it out.  When he didn't see her close it, he got out and went back in.   Jeff already had her splayed out on another car, deeper into the shop, and was lustily fucking her.

"Cum in me, baby," she panted.  "Quick, cum in me.  I want it to be yours."

Bobby closed the garage door and, like before, let himself out the self-locking door of the office.

===================================

She called him the next morning and asked if he could come see them around four.

"I thought Jeff didn't close up until five or so," he said.

"He doesn't.  I need to talk to you first," she said.

"OK," he said. 

When he got there at four, she let him in and led him to the kitchen.

"I have to tell you what's going on," she said.  "I didn't have a chance to yesterday, but you need to know."

"OK," he said.

"Thank you for our anniversary," she said.  "I can't believe what a difference it has made in him."

"A good difference, I hope," said Bobby.

"Oh yes," she said.  "We've talked about so many things ... not just you, but lots of other things too.   We didn't even realize it, but we had been growing apart.  I still don't understand all this, but I know that we're stronger now than ever before."

"That's a good thing," said Bobby.

"It's a wonderful thing," she said, seriously.  "I didn't even realize it when we got married, but I don't think I really loved him then.  I think I was just doing what I thought I was supposed to do.   Now, though ... with all these changes ... I know him better.  I still don't understand everything, but I know him much better than before.  I really love him, Bobby."

"That's great," said Bobby.

"He's wanted me to get pregnant for a long time," she went on.  "I resisted that.  I was afraid that, when I got fat and ugly, he wouldn't want me anymore."

"You'll never be ugly," said Bobby.  "It would be a physical impossibility."

She pinked up. "Thank you.   I'm still not sure.  It didn't feel ... right, somehow ... before."  She looked a little scared.  "Now, it does."

"So you're actually trying to get pregnant?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I thought it was role playing," he said.  "I'm sorry."

"It WAS ... sort of."

"I don't understand," he said.

"The idea of you possibly getting me pregnant just drives him absolutely insane.  We've made love three times a day ever since I told him I'd do it."

"So ... he wants the baby to be his," said Bobby.

"Of course," she said.  "He's wanted children ever since we got married.  That's a big part of this.   But the risk of letting you cum in me is what really gets him going."

"How do you feel about all this?" asked Bobby.

"That's the problem," she said.  "I don't know ... I'm not sure."

"So ... what do you want me to do?" asked Bobby.

"I know what HE wants you to do," she said.  "He wants you to keep making love to me ... and cum in me.  He says it's exciting, like Russian roulette ... except better, because nobody has to die."

"I know what he wants," said Bobby, shaking his head, mentally.  This was as strange as anything he'd ever thought of.  "What I need to know is what YOU want."

"I don't KNOW!"  Her tone was both impatient and frustrated.

"What if I end up being the father?" he asked.  "How will Jeff react to that?"

"He SAYS he won't care," she said.  "No, not that he won't care ... he says it won't make any difference to him ... that he'll still love me, and love the baby.  He says it will be our baby, no matter what."

"And you don't believe him?"

"How can I?" she moaned.  "How could a man love a baby his wife has that's not his?"

Bobby thought about Chester Chumley, who loved his wife, and the baby that Bobby had put into her and she had given birth to.  Chester treated that baby like it was his own.    He thought about Tilly and Jake Johnson, who were raising TWO babies he'd impregnated Tilly with, and about how Jake loved those babies like they were his own.  He didn't know how Arthur Thompson was treating little Andrew, the boy Bobby was the father of, with Martha Thompson, but she hadn't called him, and she would have if Arthur was acting up again.

"I can tell you that it has happened already," said Bobby.  "That's all I can say, though.  That doesn't mean Jeff will react the same way."

"It's happened?" she asked.  "With ... other women?"  She thought immediately of Felicity Chumley, and how Miranda, her best friend, suspected that Bobby might be responsible for Felicity's baby.

"Yes," said Bobby.

"How many?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" 

"Yes," she said.  

"At least four," he said. 

The reason it mattered to Liz was because if it was only one - Felicity's - then that didn't mean anything.  Chester Chumley was old, and he would react to things much differently than a younger man.  But, knowing there were others ... THREE others! ...  

She looked at him.

"I like you," she said.

He smiled.  "I like you too."

"I like you more than I should," she said.

"Considering what we've done, that's not too surprising," said Bobby.

"He wants you to make love to me today," she said.

"When he gets home?" asked Bobby.

"No ... before.  He loves to watch, but he loves hearing me describe things too.  He wants me to be naked ... on the bed ... after you've made love to me, when he gets home."

"I can't do that if it's going to hurt you," said Bobby.  "You have to decide how you feel about this."

She sat there, thinking.

"The problem is I want you to," she said, finally.

"Why is that a problem?" he asked.

"Because I'm not SUPPOSED to want you to."

"He doesn't want you to ... want it?" asked Bobby, not sure what she meant.

"No, he doesn't mind that part," she said.  "I think you were right.  He wants me to be tempted ... to want this ... but then to choose him, instead of you."

"Have you ever been tempted to choose me?"

"No," she said.  "Not like you're talking about.   I really DO want him ... but I want you too.  It's just not in the same way that I want him.  What I do with you is fun and exciting, and I like that.  But I want him forever."

"How would you feel if you thought the baby was mine?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she moaned.  "I'm still getting used to the idea of having a baby at all!"  She looked at him and frowned.  "How do you feel about these other babies ... the ones you fathered ... but other men are raising?"

"All of them are in good homes, with good parents.  I'm not worried about them."

"Don't you love them?"  She was frustrated again.

"Yes, of course, but I'm not their Daddy.  I'm their father, though I doubt they'll ever know that.  But another man is their Daddy.  Any man can be a father.  It takes someone special to be a Daddy.  I'm really lucky that those children have good Daddies."

"Do you think Jeff would be a good Daddy?" she asked.

"You know him much better than I ever will," said Bobby.  "I think he might be a little weird, but he seems like a nice guy.   The real question is ... do you want to be a Mommy?"

She didn't have to think about that long.

"Yes," she said firmly.  "I'm scared of it, but I want it.  I could never understand why Jeff was so desperate for that, but I'm beginning to.  I have this urge in me.  When he cums in me, I want to be pregnant."  She frowned.  "The problem is that when YOU cum in me ... I want to be pregnant too."

=====================================

Jeff opened the door of his house.  His heart was beating wildly.  Bobby's car wasn't out front.  It was very quiet in the house.  The living room was empty.   He peeked into the kitchen, but nobody was there.   The door to their bedroom was open.  

His heart pounded harder as he approached.   He had seen the doubt in her eyes, when he'd asked her to do this.  He didn't want to push her too far.  Things were so perfect right now, from his point of view, that he was in almost constant terror that he'd push her too far, like he'd done before.   

He realized he'd stopped, just shy of the door.  With an effort, he pushed his head forward.  

She was there ... naked ... splayed out on the bed in a relaxed attitude.  She looked asleep, until her head rolled toward him.  He stepped into the room, to the foot of the bed.  Her naked pussy glistened with white sperm.

"I need you," she whispered.  "He tried to make a baby in me, but I want it to be yours."

He stayed there for hours, until he'd ejaculated in her three times.  Hunger drove them out of the bedroom.  And exhaustion.  She had described twice how Bobby had asked her if she was really ovulating, and had accused her of role playing.  

She also told him how Bobby, when he'd become convinced she was actually fertile, had said he'd be back every day at four, until she told him to stop coming.

========================================

Their kitchen negotiations had resulted in Liz deciding that Bobby could cum in her once a day, while she was fertile.   Jeff would have no restrictions.

Bobby, of course, was capable of ejaculating four or five times a day.  Linda, still miserable about her breakup with Paul, took advantage of that.

On the night after he left Liz's house, when her husband had come home to find her freshly fucked by another man, Linda came to Bobby's room.   She was ovulating too, though she wasn't aware that was why she was extra horny that night.

"I'm in the middle of my cycle," she said, sliding into bed with her brother.  "You can't cum in me tonight."

"I'll pull out, then," he said.

"No you won't," she said back.  "I know you.  "I'm on top, tonight."

"OK," said Bobby.

She rode him to four orgasms.  He didn't warn her, but she knew him well enough by now to know when he was about to cum.  

She pulled off and drank him dry.

=====================================

For the next four days, Bobby arrived at Liz's at four sharp.  On two of those days, they talked first, about this or that.  On the other two days she was ready to go when he walked in the door.   He let her ride him as long as she wanted, and then got on top, so that, after he came in her, she could lie there, and wait for her husband to come home and find her, still running with his sperm.  

Jeff got home early, the last day, and stood in the open doorway of his bedroom, watching, as Bobby grunted and filled Liz full.   He was already naked and waiting, when Bobby got off her, to get dressed and leave.

====================================

During those same four days, Linda visited Bobby every night.  She wanted him on top, sometimes, but made him promise to pull out.

He did.

====================================


During the last days of September, and into the first week of October, Bobby spent his time with other women.  Elizabeth didn't call him.  He worked during the day, and made women happy at night, and his life went on.  When two more weeks had passed, without any contact from Liz or Jeff, he again assumed that whatever had happened was finished.

He was, once again, in error.

It wasn't until November that he heard her familiar voice on the phone.  

"Could you come over to talk?" she asked.

"Sure," he said.

She was dressed in a sweater and jeans when he got there.  It was nippy most days, now, and cold on some.

Again they sat at the kitchen table.

"I'm pregnant," she said, without preamble.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Better and better each day," she said.  "Jeff is ecstatic.  He can't wait to see what the baby looks like."

"That's good," said Bobby.

"It's better than good," she said.  "I'm scared as can be, but he's not.  I've never felt so loved since all this happened."

She sat for a while.  "We haven't been paying you," she said.

"I'm not worried about that," he replied.

"Jeff says that if anything goes wrong with your car, or your mother's car, or any of your sisters' cars, if they have them, to just bring them down.  Everything will be free."

"Thank you," said Bobby.  "I usually work on them myself."

"We know that," she said.  "But now you won't have to.  You can spend your time making money ... or making other women happy."

He grinned.  "Are you happy?" he asked.

She looked at him very seriously.  "Yes I am," she said.  "I'm very happy."

"Good," he said.  "I should probably go now."

"No," she said.  "There's more."

"OK."

"We want you ... I want you to come see me from now on."

"How often?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," she said.  "Once or twice a month?"

"No problem," said Bobby.  "Just tell me the role to play and I'll be here."

"Sometimes I may be alone," she said.   "Sometimes I'll just want it to be you and me."

"I'd like that," said Bobby.

"I will too," she said.

"Right now?" asked Bobby.  It was nine in the morning.

"I was hoping you'd ask," she said.

She stood up and pulled her sweater over her head.  She was naked underneath it.

"I'm really horny," she said, calmly.  "I'm going to need a lot of attention today."

With her already pregnant, the prohibition to him squirting in her more than once was abandoned.   

Jeff didn't come home for lunch that day.   It took until one in the afternoon before she'd let him go.

===================================

Life isn't always fair.  We all know that, but we hope that the wheel of fate, as it spins, will not land on the pointer that points to us.  It has to stop somewhere, though.

On the 4th of January, 1973, Second Lieutenant Tim Appleton, having
been in Viet Nam for less than forty-eight hours, led his platoon on a
routine patrol.  He didn't do anything wrong.  He was just there, when the Viet Cong ambush was sprung.  The platoon lost fifteen men that day.  Second Lieutenant Tim Appleton was one of them.

In less than two months the war would be over and the last U.S. Servicemember would leave Viet Nam.

====================================

Time marches on for all of us, and it marched on for Bobby Dalton as well.   It is, therefore, time for this story to come to a close, and for a new chapter of Bobby's life to be unveiled in the next story.  Liz's story will be continued in story number eleven in this series, along with more about Linda and the others involved with Bobby.

The End  
