She caught him and drew him back up. Smiling, she said: 'Not yet, Darling. I don't think you're up to that task. You might unleash a monster… Just fuck me first. Fuck me deep and hard. Would you like to do that?'
'Christ, yes!' he heard himself gulp, servile and angry at the same time, but not knowing which emotion to acknowledge. Godamn her! 'Yes… I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked in your life, you teasing little bitch!'
'Oh God,' she moaned, shifting him over between her now wide-spread thighs, while he moved his hands down beneath the smoothness of her rounded buttocks.
Damn her! They were gorgeously shaped, firm and solid as he'd felt them in the parking area of the country club. Her body was hot and supple beneath him and she raised her mouth to his, locking suction tightly with him, while her hands searched down between them for the long, thick hardness she had sucked all the way to this place.
Mark grunted animalistically as her cool fingers clasped his suddenly throbbing cock. He ground his mouth to hers and kissed passionately. Something about her, whatever in God's name it was, set him off… maybe it was her almost animal aroma… he was beginning to feel like a lust-hungry beast. And, then, things like her lips gentled him. They were wine he'd once tasted, soft as the grapes that blended it, and she pressed her full length erotically to him, grinding her pelvic region tightly against his own, before finally throwing wide her legs and jerking them back, displaying the silken hair-shrouded warmth of her moist pink cuntal lips gaping upward at him and begging to be fulfilled.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In her frustrated state of mind, Dianne Coleman welcomed the cool, sweet-tasting drink A.C. Faro handed her before sitting down beside her on the davenport in the comfortable living-room. He had switched on soft, indirect lighting and soothing, listening music, the latter seeming to immediately react, as might a tranquilizer, on her frayed nerves. Thank God, she was very much at ease in his company; it had to do with them sharing the same plight, she supposed; for some reason, he made it all bearable and she was grateful to him.
Mark's horrible behavior of trying to pawn her off on another man, then, disappearing with the affable gentleman's wife for obvious… sexual reasons, had nearly unnerved her entirely, and probably would have had it not been for the noble Commissioner's behavior. As for the events that followed on the sun-deck of the club, she couldn't, and didn't, blame him for that. A natural reaction to a natural function, he had said, and she realized it had been just that.
Even so, recollection of the erotic episode embarrassed her now that she sat beside him in the light of his splendid living-room… the memory of his hand on her naked breast, and the other… petting and probing right up into her vagina… but she hadn't tried to restrain him with any great amount of vigor, either… Lord, she'd really acted like a wanton, hadn't she…? But, at least, no damage had been done, and they'd had sense enough to stop… which was probably more than Mark and Tonya Faro could say right at that very moment… Oh God, she just couldn't think anymore about that or she would burst right out crying again. And heaven knew, this poor man beside her had as much reason to weep as did she.
Now, she looked over at him. He was staring blankly down at his drink. She couldn't help but admire his forced calm acceptance of the situation. Her heart went out to him; she tried to think of something to say that would take his mind from it, at least for a moment.
'What is it?' she asked, holding up the milky appearing liquid he had poured them, as if to examine it.
'Pernod, with water,' he replied. 'I thought it was what we both needed. It's very relaxing and you can drink considerable of it.' He paused, studying his own glass. 'It seems we're going to have that much time on our hands… We might as well try to enjoy it.'
Dianne thought about that. God, how could she enjoy anything, knowing that Mark was someplace… making love to another woman…? 'Will… will they come back here eventually, do you think?'
'Yes, I suppose… eventually… when they've enjoyed their fill of each other… when they're all fucked out.'
Dianne sensed her cheeks flushing hotly at the sound of the obscene word, and a little tightness gripped at the pit of her stomach. 'Oh please, A.C… don't use that language,' she pleaded, reaching over and placing her small soft hand over his in sympathy. 'I-I understand how you feel. Lord knows, I'm no better myself… but we must keep our heads, mustn't we?'
'Must we?' He looked at her, his gaze level, his eyes searching her face virilely, his big hand all of a sudden encompassing her own.
Dianne gave a little start. It was the first time she'd noticed any sign of sexual desire in his expression; even following the episode on the sun-deck, he'd shown no indication of further advances, although she knew he'd been greatly aroused, even as she had been. A little tremor of apprehension ran through her: she didn't want to offend him, but she had to put a stop to this right away. She sipped at her drink, then placed it on the table beside her, forcing a smile.
'You know we must, Commissioner,' she managed, her tiny, pink tongue-tip easing out to run the length of her pouting lower-lip somewhat nervously.
'Do I? You keep telling me that, Dianne, but I haven't quite bought it, yet.' He made an easy smile, his thumb rotating caressingly over the back of her soft, smooth hand. 'You forgot… you were supposed to be my love- partner for the night… and that's damned hard for me to ignore. You're a very lovely girl, Dianne… and damned desirable. And…' he hesitated for the slightest of moments, 'your husband is laying my wife at probably this very moment.'
She felt a slight hitch in her breathing as he held to her hand and began to move closer to her.
'Please,' she said, making an effort to withdraw it. 'I-I didn't know that… about the swapping arrangements, I mean… Mark didn't tell me… My God, I could never agree to such a thing…'
'Am I that offensive to you?' he put to her. He had set his drink on the coffee table, was still holding tightly to her hand, and now with the other was smoothing up her other naked arm as he inched even closer to her.
'No, no… you know it's not that,' Dianne said, shaking her head over-enthusiastically, her eyes widening in growing alarm, the gentle touch of his warm hand moving over her flesh reminding her of the prurient sensations he had incited within her on the sun-deck not an hour before. Somehow… somehow, she had to put a stop to this… 'It's simply… well… I'm just not that type of girl… I-I regard my… my marriage vows are being sacred… and… and I could never defile them…'
'And how do you suppose Mark regards them?'
'I-I… Oh God, I don't know… I don't believe he even knows. He's just all mixed up… so damned engrossed in this election… of becoming senator that he doesn't realize what he's doing. But Mark's my husband, A.C… and I love him! It'll all work out, I know it will,' she said emphatically, again trying to loosen herself from his grasp and move back away from him; he held her fast, his handsome face only inches from her now cringing, frightened one, until she could read plainly the mounting desire gleaming there.
'Sure…' he said, a strange change coming to his voice. 'It'll work out… providing you do what's expected of you, Baby… Right now, you're the key to his future… and that's why you're here with me… I'm the lock controlling the door… and you're the key to open me.' He grinned meaningfully. 'Politicians are ruthless men, Dianne, especially the power-hungry Coleman clan… maybe, you've already discovered that for yourself. It's in their blood… inherent, so as to speak… and they'll sell their souls for it… or yours.'
'I-I don't believe that!' Dianne lied, not wanting to accept his words even though deep down she felt them to be true. She tried to lean back away from him as he continued to grin at her, his now, almost lecherous eyes suddenly dropping their level to the deep soft white cleft separating her rapidly rising and falling, breasts and absorbing them, hungrily. Slowly, they raked back up over her to lock with her confusion-filled eyes. He went on smiling, but the expression had transformed into a lascivious, suggestive one.
'There's no use fighting it any longer, my dear,' he half-whispered. 'We're wasting time… and there's no way out; except to fuck… or else Mark's, and your, whole futures go down the drain…'
He was that close that she could smell the faint essence of cologne from his face, and for the first time she detected the near imperceptible age lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. A shudder of fear
