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"It comes down to compatibility . . . and Roy and I aren't
. . ." A
dour expression brought a far away look to Julie's eyes, as though she
were focusing on something only she could see.
The vested waiter standing over her with a tray in his hand asked if
she'd like a refill on her burgundy, but she didn't hear him. The buxom
brown-eyed woman beside her signaled the impatient man with a shoo of
her
hand, then returned her pensive gaze to her distraught friend who looked
as though she'd been waging an emotional war against something she was
too
weak to conquer.
True, Julie hadn't been her convivial self lately and, loving nothing
better than a little friendly gossip, Ertha had insisted Julie enjoy
the
afternoon over a glass of burgundy wine at Henry's outdoor restaurant
where leisure was king and more than one illicit affair had erupted
hot
and smoky from the tables sizzling with 'who's fucking who' in round-robin
gossip.
Besides, Ertha would have felt selfish hoarding the attention from
the parade of eligible businessmen strutting their stuff in Gucci shoes
and pin-striped suits as they dotted the tables surrounding her, shooting
salacious grins in the direction of the black-haired vixen whose amulets
and rings caught the shimmering sunlight in penetrating streaks that
made
any man sit up straight and take notice. For Ertha was more than a woman;
she was a sexy witch with an aura of availability that no man, no matter
how in love with his wife, could deny.
"I'm sorry, honey, now what were you saying .. .?" Ertha pulled
her
gaze from a table in the corner where last week's prey sat bored and
rotting inside from his wife's dull company. Ertha took vain delight
in
the power she weighed over men: but now she cut it short and repeated
her
question, this time nudging Julie by the elbow to bring her back from
her
melancholic reverie that veiled her in a dark shawl of misery. "For
God's
sakes, Julie, it can't be all that bad . . . I mean now can you get
hung
up on one man when there's an ocean of them right here at your feet?"
She
tutted to her friend, then shot a warming smile at a man she'd been
plotting to meet for the past week.
"I'm just tired . . . I didn't sleep a wink last night," Julie
started, taking another sip of her wine, embarrassed to discover the
glass
had been drained on the last weary gulp.
Ertha rested her hand on Julie's slender arm, her bracelets twinkling
as if to say, 'nothing is worth the misery, honey.' "Listen, Julie,
I've
known you since college and I know what your problem is . . . you're
a
martyr. God, look at all you've given up for that creep Roy. And what
has he given you in return? Sure, so you went to a couple of neat
parties, but you didn't have a chance to get loose or meet any of the
musicians he was snorting cocaine with. Right? You told me so yourself,
Julie."
Her friend shrugged. "Yes, that's what happened all right. I found
out later he was in the lady's room smoking dope with one of those rock
n'
roll queenies." She closed her eyes and shook her head, then forced
a
pained smile that didn't last long. Her pixie face soured into a frozen
grimace of faithless endurance as if she was waiting to be struck once
more . . . to prove the misery she felt was real and deserved. The men
around her noticed, too, and chose not to pursue interest in the petite
looking woman whose China Doll sophistication contrasted so sharply
with
the sultry woman seated next to her.
Sipping from her water glass, she bolstered her strength and
continued. "That seems to be happening a lot lately. We go places
together, rarely and I end up watching his camera case while he goes
off
flirting with every woman around. I feel like an old hag, and I'm not
even
married! Whoever said living with a man was bliss, was full of shit!"
she
blurted out of control.
"Come on. Don't waste your energy on him, Julie. Quit being such
a
martyr and have another glass of wine with me. It's Friday. Time to
celebrate and be happy." She waved to the waiter for a refill,
then
turned her attention back to Julie. "How's Roy's photography business
going? Has he done any album covers lately?"
Julie shook her head, her poodley blonde curls vibrating. "No,
that
doesn't seem to be happening. He's been spending all his time trying
to
get some things in men's magazines. Porno is where the money is at,
so he
says." Julie drew a deep breath. "Okay, if you really want
to know the
dirt, Ertha, here it is. He's been hanging out every night in those
sleazy clubs down on Broadway trying to find nude models who'll pose
for
him. Sometimes he doesn't get home till four o'clock in the morning
and
when he does, he's drunk and nasty." With her finger, Julie traced
a
carved heart on the marred table top, then half whispered. "I don't
think
I can stand it much longer, Ertha, but I don't know what to do. I can't
afford to move out, but living with him is hell!"
"Well, I've never met a photographer I've trusted yet, Julie.
They're all voyeurs for one thing, and for another they've all been
afraid
to admit to what they really want . . . and that includes what they
want
from women. They're fucked up, pure and simple. Just fucked up."
Julie bit into her lower lip, trying to gain control. Anger was not
her mode of expression, nor was pouting. She'd tried to play it straight
with Roy, promising not to date other men, even though they were only
living together and not married, but enough was enough. "What bothers
me
most, Ertha," she started with pained confidence in her voice,
"is that he
spends all of his time trying to make other women look sexy and feel
sexy,
but he does nothing for me. God, it's really hard to admit . . . I mean
my ego has been nowhere for so long, that I was beginning to feel really
.
. . ugly." She swallowed hard and moved her empty wine glass to
the right
of her stained napkin making room for the waiter to serve the next round.
"Go on . . ." said Ertha delving in her handbag for her wallet,
flashing her rings as she did so. Julie caught a glimpse of the dime-
sized turquoise ring sporting her best friend's middle finger and wondered
where her unemployed friend had the money to buy it, but said nothing.
As Ertha slapped a two dollar bill on the tray and pulled her chair
back in closer to the table, Julie resumed her scattered thoughts. "Oh,
yes, as I was saying, he spends all his time making these other women
appealing, and anytime I bring it up, he tells me I'm a nag and that
I'm
paranoid. Says he's just trying to make some money and then he goes
on
his tirade about how hard it is being a freelance photographer in this
city . . ."
"That's all meaningless, Julie. Take it from a woman who knows.
There's only one way a man can prove his true affection for a woman
. . .
and that's in bed. You used to tell me how you two spend half your lives
in bed together. Now if that's still the case, then don't worry about
a
thing . . ." she pried, her deep eyes studying Julie's timid ones.
"My
philosophy has always been that as long as you get satisfied, it doesn't
matter what else he'd doing . . . how many women he fucks in a day or
sees
naked."
Julie drew another deep breath and calmed herself with a sip of wine.
"Our love life used to be unparalleled. God, even Cleopatra didn't
get
laid as many times as I did in one day. We lost half our friends because
we spent all of our time together in bed." Her shoulders drooped
wearily.
"Now, now I have to beg him for it!"
"Hit yourself again, lady! Are you masochistic or what?" wailed
Ertha incredulously, leaning over the table so that her richly browned
breasts nearly tumbled out of the low cut rose-colored wrap-around tunic
she wore. "Love is what keeps you young. Man, at the rate you're
going,
you'll be eighty before you're thirty! It's all so simple, honey. If
he's not giving it to you, go out and get it from somebody else."
The blonde haired woman's eyes fell in dejection. "I can't do that,
Ertha. You know how I am. I've never been able to have an affair with
another guy when I'm living with somebody. It's just not . . . not right
somehow. I guess what I should do is wait and try to make it happen
with
Roy again. And if it doesn't I think I'll take some yoga classes and
meditate and learn to mellow out." But the ambivalent smile on
her face
said it was a lie. She didn't want to mellow out from anything as
ethereal as Eastern religion. A good night in bed with Roy would cure
her
ills.
"You're unbelievable, Julie. Do you know that? You're a classic!
For God sakes, listen to you! Avoid . . . avoid . . . avoid . . . you
keep side-stepping the issue, and the issue is that you're horny and
you
want to get laid. Why make things so fucking complicated?" She
slurped
her wine, annoyed at the dribble that spotted her new tunic: she spit
on
her napkin and rubbed at the stain uncouthly, her friend watching with
an
amused smile on her face, despite her woes. Then Ertha went on talking.
"You're a healthy female with healthy desires, that's all, and
if Roy is
going to get laid behind your back, then you have every right to do
the
same thing."
The pixie faced twenty-six-year-old stared at her friend in
amazement. If only things were as simple for her as they were for Ertha.
Physical . . . that's how Ertha interpreted everything . . . on the
physical level. For her, Julie, it was a different matter. Love affairs
for her had always been long and deep, not flirtations or light-hearted
as
they were for Ertha who went through them like pages of a calendar in
rapid, even succession, with no cares for what happened yesterday. Today
was the moment.
"You've got to be more independent and more aggressive with men,
Julie. I've seen this same thing happen to you in college with Russ,
then
with that idiot husband of yours who ran off with another woman, and
now
with Roy . . . and all because you didn't get out when the going got
tough. Men don't like women who are submissive and love him no matter
what dirt he hands your way. Men want a woman who'll slap his fingers
for
doing wrong, because then they don't have to feel guilty about anything.
You see," she leaned close again, her eyes clearly focused on the
ravages
of last weeks affair, the man who was now handing his wife a fist full
of
bills in bribery for an afternoon of peace. It dawned on Ertha then,
with
a twinkle in her eyes, that Friday was pay day and that, she thought
secretly, was good for business.
"You see," she started again, concentrating once more on her
distraught friend, "men don't feel guilty when they're caught at
it,
because then it's justifiable: they can call you a nag and righteously
so
and the issue is not what they've done, but how you found out. Believe
me, if there's anything I know about, it's men."
Her blonde friend readily agreed. "Yes, you do," she said
with a
snicker. "Men is your subject, Ertha. Anybody in our dormitory
would
attest to that."
"Well, it's paid off, honey, let me tell you. Find the magic wand
to
a man's heart and there's nothing he won't do for you."
"Hmmm, maybe you're right," conceded Julie, resting her pixie
chin in
the upturned palm of her hand. "Maybe if I'm really aggressive
in bed
it'll carry over and Roy'll think of me as something other than somebody
to wash his dirty socks and make him coffee in the morning,"
Ertha licked her sultry lips, glossy with lipstick. "That's it.
Be
bold, make him love you."
Julie and Roy were sitting on the sofa, still dressed in their
day-
time clothes, a bottle of fine French wine on the end table. Julie sighed
as she pulled her boyfriend closer to her with a surprisingly strong
motion that sent the two of them falling suddenly backwards. This was
her
answer to Ertha's suggestion: she would be as sultry and vixenish as
she
could tonight, and if it didn't pay off, she would be forced to seek
greener pastures. After a two year relationship, she'd diplomatically
reasoned, she would give Roy another chance at proving his love, and
if it
failed, then . . . well, she'd think about that tomorrow. Right now
she
had headier things on her mind.
"Wait," Julie giggled, setting down her crystal wine glass.
"Let me
take off this pantsuit before it gets all wrinkled!" She was happy
. . .
at least they were going to make love, just as they used to. It had
been
far too long, almost two weeks, but she hadn't dared tell Ertha that.
As
she struggled to get out of the jumpsuit, she could feel the flush of
the
wine she had had at Henry's and now the half empty bottle they'd consumed
together. Her heart was pounding wildly and she felt a bit dizzy.
Roy's kiss had raced through her like a thousand electric bolts,
making her grow weak with desire. She could feel her nipples hardening
as
she tore off her French bra flinging it to the far side of the room.
Julie's full, round breasts quivered slightly as they were exposed to
the
cool air, and a delicious excitement started at the base of her spine,
rising along her back to the smooth cream-like flesh at the nape of
her
neck.
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At last she could prove Ertha wrong! There was still love in
her
relationship with Roy! He still thought of her as a desirable woman
with
a desirable body and a desirable mind. She was no old hag.
Roy was lying quietly on the sofa waiting for her to finish getting
undressed. It hadn't been easy tearing himself away from the nude
shooting session tonight, but he knew if he didn't make his appearance
at
home, Julie would be pissed, and with due cause.
Julie could feel his eyes burning into her back as she shimmied out
of her panties. Every detail of her sensuous nakedness was bared to
his
gaze, from her small pointed nipples to the mysterious triangle of her
blonde pubic hair.
She wrapped her arms around her boy friend once more, feeling her
nude body soft against the roughness of his clothes.
"Like me, darting? Am I still your woman?" she whispered into
his
ear.
"Mmmmmmm!" Roy answered, thinking of how it would feel when
his hard
prick was ramming deep into her tight little pussy. It had been a while
since he had held onto the ripe succulence of her breasts, and now he
grasped them and squeezed their tenderness between his fingers.
"Softly, darling, softly like you used to . . ." she whispered.
But still he manipulated the large milk-white globes roughly, almost
as though he wanted to tear them off, and Julie squirmed beneath his
caress, wishing he would stop and get on with the love making. In an
effort to entice him further, she ran one hand along the inside of his
leg, casually sliding over to his throbbing prick. Deftly, she
manipulated the zipper, sliding it down rapidly and inserting her hand.
She grasped and withdrew his already throbbing cock, with one simple
motion.
"Oh, that's it, baby," he gasped, feeling her small hand grip
his
blood-filled cock with determination. His hands slipped from her breasts,
down the lush contours of her torso, to her full hips. One finger found
the soft blonde tendrils of pubic hair that nestled so cozily between
her
thighs and inserted itself between the soft pillows of flesh that
protected her already excitedly oozing pussy.
"Ohhhh, darling," Julie moaned out, tossing her head back
on the bed.
"Oh, God, it feels good!"
Roy's middle finger was softly playing among the sensitive folds of
smooth pink cunt flesh, smoothing up and down with an insistent motion.
She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he held her close to him,
while his fingers began to manipulate the rising bud of her clitoris.
"Oh, Roy, Roy!" she moaned, "Darling!" Julie's legs
flayed out
obscenely, giving her boy friend's hand more room, while her own hand
pumped up and down on his rock hard cock.
The flat white plane of Julie's belly trembled as his searching
fingers exposed the slit of her open crotch, and her rib cage rose and
fell against his heaving chest, her nipples becoming hard as little
beach
pebbles against the material of his shirt.
Then two fingers were pressing into the warm opening of her pussy,
plunging up, up, up, past the hard ring of muscle that released its
tightness to allow this intrusion.
"Aaaahhhh!" she cried out, screwing her hips up to meet his
thickly
probing fingers. Little helpless mewls of pleasure issued from her lips
as her long voluptuously slim body writhed in the throes of ecstasy.
Roy could wait no longer. He had had about eight glasses of wine
that night, and true, they had quickened his lust, but they had not
given
him the patience to continue the foreplay that he knew Julie craved.
Ms
large bulging cock throbbed painfully and tiny drops of fluid were exuding
from its large throbbing head.
Pushing his pants down and off, he maneuvered himself so that Julie
was forced to cease her steady up and down pumping, and he was kneeling
in
between her widely spread legs, his rod throbbing impatiently before
him.
One hand moved slowly over the thick foreskin, pushing it up and then
back
over his hardness, while his other hand resumed its exploration of Julie's
hot, palpitating young pussy.
Boy, she's really going pretty good! he thought. Hasn't had any for
a while, poor thing. This should hold her for a bit. The dull ache in
his balls told him that he must push his cock into his girl friend's
tight
pussy before he blew his wad. He'd already waited too long. Abruptly,
he
removed his hand from her crotch, causing a small wet sucking noise
as his
fingers left the pliant hair-fringed opening.
Julie's large globular tits jiggled above the expanse of her rib cage
as her naked body offered itself up to him.
"Ohhhhh . . .!" she jerked as she felt his hand
sliding out of her pussy,.". . . oh, Roy, oohhhh!"
She felt the round head of his cock touching at the inflamed entrance
to her cuntal slit, throbbing against the quivering length of the moist
furrow of her cunt. Roy moved his stone-hard cock up and down in the
seething crack, up and down until on one down stroke it was poking into
the small elastically stretching hole of her tight, hungry cunt.
It was so hard! Julie had never felt her boy friend's prick so hard,
it seemed. She had to have him inside her! She had been just about to
cum before he removed his hand, and now her body demanded satisfaction,
demanded that this thick rod be plunged into her to the hilt. She held
onto her boy friend's buttocks and spreading her legs around his body,
bending them obscenely around his back, she pulled herself up brusquely,
forcing her boy friend's stiff cock to slide up into the soaking wet
slit
of her pussy.
At first it was slow going, impeded by the tightness of Julie's cunt,
but as the delicate tissues accustomed themselves to the bulk of his
cock,
the way was paved for him and Julie squirmed the silken sheath of her
pussy over his enormous member, swallowing it up to the tip of her womb.
She thought she would burst with her love for him, her lust growing
minute
by minute. This was the way it was supposed to be between them. Only
Roy
could give it to her. Whatever was wrong between them before would be
made up for by this moment, this frantic, fleshy connection of their
naked
bodies.
"Oh . . . I love you . . . I love you . . ." she moaned, open
mouthed, the tip of her tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat. She
was
thoroughly filled by the magnificent prick that fit so snugly in her
belly
and it gave her a wonderful feeling of completeness that she had sorely
missed these past two weeks when her boy friend's interest in her seemed
to have flagged. But that was all over now. From now on, it was going
to
be different. He was going to fuck into her, long even thrusts, burying
the thick head of his cock harder and harder each time against her waiting
cervix. She was going to cum again and again, and each time would be
better. They would make love fat into the night!
He was deep . . . so deep inside her that she felt almost nailed down
to the sofa, pinned in this lewd submissive position by the giant, fleshy
stake of man she loved.
The blonde curls of her pubic hair twisted in tiny tangles around the
base of Roy's cock. He held her like that for a long moment, savoring
the
power that he felt, enjoying the beautiful whimpering woman who was
his
woman, his to do with as he pleased. She was a pretty good lay, too.
He made a mental note to fuck her more often in the future. Didn't
want her to start looking for it elsewhere. He could feel his balls
dangling in the upturned crevice of her ass, and a surging tingle swept
through him.
"Nnnnngggg . . ." he groaned, his cock bucking inside the
tightly
clasping passage of Julie's pussy, his semen spurting from deep inside
his
balls, spewing forth in sporadic jerks between the milkily contracting
muscles of her cunt, splashing against the sensitive surface of her
cervix.
"Ooooohh . . . yeaaaa . . .!" he cried out as the overwhelming
sensations of orgasms traversed his thick cock and sent chills of delight
throughout his entire body.
He collapsed heavily on her, expelling one last heavy sigh, relieved
to have released the heavy load of his semen. He could feel Julie's
softness beneath his body. She was warm and smooth. Her perfume wafted
Lip to his nostrils as he buried her head in her neck.
"Mmmmm . . ." she sighed. And then he was silent.
Julie lay stunned underneath his dead weight. She had hardly time to
realize that it was over! Part of her was still climbing to the erotic
heights she had so recently foreseen, but the rapidly deflating cock
inside her was little solace to her expectations. Roy's breath was coming
smoothly and evenly now, hot on her neck and her legs were cramped,
still
forced wide apart by his impaling hips.
"Oh, damn!" she thought . . . "Oh . . . no."
She could almost taste the bitterness of her frustration. Anger rose
in her breast as tears of self-pity began to form in her large violet
eyes. And with Roy's first snore, the tears brimmed over and developed
into deep sobs. She had had such high hopes for tonight, had so
desperately wanted love between she and Roy as it used to: all consuming
and magical. She knew it would be at least another week before they
would
make love again. Roy had been so busy trying to make money during the
week, she had stopped her vain attempts at seduction, saving them for
the
weekends . . . when he was home.
Last week he'd spent nearly every night down on the Broadway strip
where women flaunted their half-naked bodies behind glass doors of strip
shows and massage parlors to hopeful customers. That had been painful
enough. But now this! He'd come home every night drunk and incoherent.
And now this! It was worse than not making love at all, because at least
then she still had hope.
Angrily she attempted to push him over, squirming out from underneath
him.
He was halfway off when he roused slightly.
"Ah . . . come on, Julie. Let me sleep . . . it's been a hard .
. ."
he mumbled in a barely audible whisper.
Julie froze. Then scrambling the rest of the way out from under his
sprawling body, she stood beside the bed, staring down at him in disgust.
She shook with frustration and clutched her arms around herself in
horror, her naked body beginning to feel the cold of the night air.
A
raucous sob escaped from her throat and she turned and ran into the
bathroom, where she splashed her face with cold water.
Later, with her pet cat, Ralph, to keep her company, she watched the
late night show for the second night that week, the fatigue that deflated
her body having mysteriously transformed into a throbbing energy of
anger
and fear of what was happening to her two year relationship with Roy.
Corby Lewis slipped the cab driver a dollar bill for the tip
and got
out in front of Roy's apartment building. He padded his stuffed back
pocket to make certain the bag of marijuana hadn't fallen out in the
taxi.
Mmmm, looks like Roy's got himself a nice little crib here. If the
porno business is what's making him his bread, then I'm gonna ask for
another 10%. Shit, I'm the one who has to do all the work, fucking and
sucking those sleazy ass chicks. All he's gotta do is snap a shudder
. .
.
Corby only hoped that Roy would be home for his interview. He'd said
he had to make a couple more contacts in setting up the stage before
they
would start shooting.
He rang the bell and waited, tapping his platform shoe on the
'welcome' mat as the moments slipped by and still there was no answer.
"Come on, get with it, Roy . . . I haven't got all day, man!"
He
pressed the buzzer again, and almost before he had removed his finger
from
the button, the door opened and Julie peeked out. She had just gotten
up,
and was still wearing her nightgown. She had thrown a flimsy negligee
over the top of it in her haste to get to the door.
"Morning, miss," Corby said, tipping his Panama hat and smiling
his
most charming smile. His dark Puerto Rican eyes penetrated deep into
Julie's sleepy blue ones. She blinked at him, wondering if this was
another one of her boy friend's kinky friends who came to see about
'business.'
What did he want anyway? She had hardly slept at all last night and
had finally managed to fall off to sleep after Roy had gone off to finish
setting up the 'set' to start shooting his porno flick. She and Roy
had
had their share of fights, about it, too. If it wasn't about the money
he
was fronting on speculation to shoot this movie, it was about the sleazy
models he was hiring. One thing or the other. And he'd called her a
suspicious nag, saying she had no right to tell him what to do. After
all, they weren't married, were they?
All these things were still running through her mind as she looked
questioningly at Corby Lewis standing at her front door, his platform
shoes raising his lanky frame off the floor an extra six inches, his
black
leather cape and Panama hat making him look like he was a few months
too
early for Halloween. His appearance was so strikingly bizarre that she
completely forgot that the exact contours of her slender body were
completely visible beneath her negligee which seemed to accent her large
round breasts, her tiny waist and full womanly hips, rather than hiding
them.
None of this was ignored by Corby who pushed his hat back on his head
and restrained himself from giving a low whistle. Roy's old lady was
a
real looker! He could not take his gaze away from Julie's revealing
cleavage as he finally explained.
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