Wife on the loose (McCoy) - страница 7

Ripe outthrust tits, tight waist, shapely hips, and long, lean legs. Jake was right – she was beautiful. And where was it getting her?

Nowhere! Sitting home with a dead drunk for company while the music from the party next door filtered in through the bedroom window.

She felt horrible. Lonely and neglected and frustrated.

The redhead slipped a bright-green kimono over her naked body and went downstairs to the kitchen. She had drunk only a small glass of wine at the party. But now she felt like a good stiff drink. She made herself a double gin and tonic and went out to the back patio.

It was a beautiful starlit night. She sat alone in a chaise lounge on the patio, in the dark, listening to the hum of voices and music next door. She took long gulps of the drink to ease the pain of dissatisfaction gnawing at her belly.

She was disappointed. She had hoped that the party would cheer up both Tom and herself. She had hoped they might have another go at fucking tonight. She needed it. It had been all she could do today to resist getting herself off with her own hand.

Lost in her own miserable thoughts, Heather was scarcely aware of the minutes and hours drifting by. Eventually she awoke from her daydreams and went in for another drink. As she downed it back on the patio, she realized the hum next door was fading. The party must be breaking up. That was good. Now she wouldn't have to think about what she was missing.

The pretty redhead was startled by a loud giggle that seemed very close. The giggle was followed by a low whisper, that was just barely audible, then another giggle.

Stealthily, Heather rose to her feet and went over to the tall cedar fence that separated her yard from the Whitcombs'. She found a knothole and peeked through it. Her eyes located the couple in the moonlight just as a woman's voice murmured: "Oh, Jake, stop it, you nasty man!" Another giggle.

Heather was shocked. There was no doubt that the man was her next-door neighbor. But the woman was not his blonde-headed wife. She was a shapely brunette that Heather remembered meeting at the party. Her name escaped her now. Rhonda? Rena?

"Rita, honey, you don't really expect me to quit now, do you? Not after you've been shaking these sensational tits of yours in my face all night?"

Jake was burrowing a hand in under her skimpy blouse. Impatient with his efforts, he pulled the blouse right over her head and threw it on the pass. The brunette's big lush tits bobbed enticingly on her chest. He bent down and began to suck one of her nipples, then the other. He looked like a greedy kid who couldn't decide which goodie he wanted to eat first.