releasing them, squeezing, then releasing…
The entire time she was thinking: No, no, this is wrong, it's sick! Rhonda Baker, masturbating like a teenage girl after she's read one of her daddy's sex books. But God, it feels good!
Her right hand left her nakedly quivering breast and moved slowly down over her stomach to the elastic waistband of her panties. In spite of her self-recrimination, her shame at what she was doing, she wasn't able to stop herself. There was only her urgency now, frantic need for release from the ever building whirlpools of passions inside her shamelessly aroused body.
She was drawing her bikini bottoms down, drawing them sensuously over her pubic mound while her other hand continued to stroke the nipple of one breast. She raised up on the bed, pulling the wisp of a garment down to her ankles, her eyes tightly shut, and then pulling them off completely so that she was completely naked. She lay back again, one hand on her breast, the other stroking first one thigh, then the other, carefully avoiding for the moment the moist inferno of lust between her legs. Then, when she could stand the pressure no longer, her eager hand shot to the hotly pulsating folds of her pussy, and pressed against the wet sensitive flesh there and she brought her legs up off the bed and splayed them wide apart. Her tight little pussy was opened wide now as she gently eased her outstretched finger into her wetly pulsating cunt.
'Ooooooohhhh!' she moaned as her eager hand shot to the hotly pulsating folds of her tight little pussy!
She imagined it was Bob's hand, his finger touching her there, stroking her down there. She imagined it was he who was now caressing her hair-lined cuntal lips until they seemed to be swollen with blood, until her clitoris was as hard as his cock was hard. She found her sensitive nerve bud with the tip of her searching finger and began to tease it back and forth, running the nail around the quivering tip until the delight caused her to jackknife her legs back up against her chest, mashing her breasts flat. Her buttocks, white moons of the softest, most flawless flesh imaginable, jerked and twisted in completely wantonness under her fingering, and the resulting erotic sensations caused the sweat to bead and shine on her lust-grimacing face, matting her hematin hair to her scalp.
OH, if only Bob were here! she groaned, through the daze of passion which controlled her brain. I wish he was here playing with my pussy… I wish he was going to put his penis inside my cunt… and fuck me, hard, harder until he came and so did I… oh God, I want to cum so bad, so bad… Bob, Bob, hurry home, baby.
Faster and faster, Rhonda's finger fucked into her moistly clasping cunt, deliberately teasing her clitoris and cuntal opening until her orgasm was only moments away. Her hips thrashed and pounded the waterbed, making it dip and sway in waves in rhythm to her own waves of pain-pleasure coursing through her sensitive flesh. There was no guilt, no shame for her in that frozen period of time; there was only the wonderful, rapturous feelings of impending climax which were filling her very soul.
Her Irish Catholic Mamma was no threat to her now.
CHAPTER TWO
Slowly, as she struggled for her climax, an unwelcomed sound penetrated Rhonda's lust filled brain: a knocking at the back door… persistent… almost angry knocking. Now who in the hell could that be? Oh, just a couple more minutes and I would have cum, thought Rhonda aggravated by the intrusion.
Damn! she cursed under her breath, then quickly grasped her housecoat from the foot of the bed as she shivered maddeningly from the impassioned sensations still electrifying her loins. Who could it be?
'Rhonda… oh, Rhonnndaa!' came the unmistakable throaty female voice of her neighbor, Marla Cushing.
'Damn it, Marla,' Rhonda thought dejectedly as she slipped into the robe, hurriedly buttoned it and then gave her hair several quick pats.
'Oh, there you are, honey,' the voice gushed as Rhonda approached the kitchen door with a forced calm that belied the inner turmoil she felt.
'I hope I didn't get you away from the TV?' the thirty-five year old divorcee continued. Then, not waiting to be invited in, she opened the door, paused to let her German Shepherd enter first and then boldly stepped in herself.
'No, that's all right. I was watching the convention and that's always a bore,' she lied.
'That's good. I hate to be an intrusion,' said the woman in a tone that clearly indicated that she really wasn't. Her eyes traveled up and then down her neighbor's scantily clad body. 'I know you won't mind… you'll have time by yourself now that Bob is gone…'
'Oh, yes…' thought Rhonda, wondering how her nosy neighbor happened to know that Bob had left for Minneapolis. But then information seemed to float to Marla's ears from the wind.
'Would you do me a favor, dear?'
'Like what?'
'Taking care of Cesar here? You see,' she continued to gush excitedly, then smiled broadly at her own cleverness in handling the matter. 'He's really no trouble at all, but my brother-in-law and my sister are coming down and they're bringing their Doberman along with them. Well, you can see right off that a Shepherd and Doberman will never be friends…' her dark eyes darted upwards again, '… it'll only be until the weekend…' Her eyes dropped, quickly swept the room, then returned to Rhonda's.
Rhonda remained motionless for a long moment, digesting the flow of words which over the months she had become accustomed to. Her eyes shifted from her shorts and halter clad neighbor to the dog who was still sitting at his owner's feet. Finally, Rhonda lifted her glance again, studied those of the expectant woman, and said, 'You take care of their dog, and I take care of yours, is that it?' It didn't seem to make much sense, all this shuffling of pets, but then Marla was not one to accept a refusal.
'Okay,' Rhonda leaned back against the kitchen counter hands folded over her chest. 'I know what to feed him,' she said looking at the mangy dog, unkempt and obviously in need of a bath. Other than that, he was a majestic, handsome animal, well-trained, despite the scatter-brained owner. Rhonda stepped forward to place a gentling hand on the other woman and began guiding her toward the door. 'I'll do my best…'
'Oh, I just knew you'd come through, dear,' Marla said happily as she stodgily allowed herself to be guided toward the door. 'You're so sweet, just so sweet…'
The door clicked behind her. 'Thank you!' came the muffled voice of Marla, even through the closed door.
For several minutes, Rhonda stood silently, then smiled down at the handsome animal as she ambled toward her.
'What is it, Cesar?' she cooed softly. 'Are you hungry, baby?' she continued, lovingly stroking the mighty dog's head. 'Poor thing, having such a scatter-brain for a mistress…' Rhonda was down on her haunches now, stroking the dog's head and looking into his mysteriously deep, soulful eyes. 'Look at you! Why you look as if you haven't had a bath for years!' she cooed softly.
The pleasing sound of the young woman's soft, crooning voice together with the gentle pressure of her small hand filled Cesar with warm-hearted relish. Instinctively, he raised his head and began licking her hand to impart his growing attachment to her.
'Let's run some bath water for you and then see if there's anything in the frig that suits your fancy.'
The intelligent animal whined, almost as if he knew what she was saying, Rhonda thought, as she embraced him against her leg and continued stroking his head.
Cesar whimpered softly, partially in awareness to her melodious voice bestowing kindness and love, but even more because he had sensed in his closeness against her, a poignant smell not unfamiliar to him, a heady scent which immediately inspired trained responses inside his sleek, muscular body – the human mating aura he had been skillfully educated by his female owner to recognize… and satisfy.
Her mind still a conglomeration of mixed-veined thoughts, Rhonda opened the refrigerator and bent down to retrieve a steak bone left from the special dinner she'd prepared for Bob's departure, and in celebration of Sharon's visit.
Behind the bent figure, Cesar's head abruptly nudged forward in underneath the hem of her loose housecoat.
