Julie Taylor - The landlady's dog

A man didn't forget what female beauty was like in three years, especially such a lusty bird-watcher as he'd been. Christ, if he'd ever known that this affliction had been headed his way he would have stocked in a mental library of female pulchritude! To look at a beautiful face again, heavy young breasts, the rounded curves of touchable hips and buttocks, a well-turned calf and trim ankles… God, what he wouldn't give! He shook his head in the inner anguish eating at him.

Nancy had been a beautiful girl, Mark remembered, not wanting to but unable to help himself. A man denied sex as long as he had been was apt to think of the young, curvaceous wife he had enjoyed it with so much. Oh, there were plenty of whores around he could have for the going price, cheap enough too in the crummy neighborhood, some of them mighty cute little bitches, he'd wager, but his years in the department, to say nothing of the teenage hooker who had blinded him, had left him cold and bitter toward them. Their callused commodity destroyed any beauty they might possess… and like everything else, a man could learn to live without it… up until the point where a sultry voice like Carol Dorsett's made all his red corpuscles stand up and nudge each other. Dammit!

He thought of Nancy again, visualizing her naked beauty, her long chestnut hair streaming down her tapered, white back… the full up-thrust of her perfect, dark-nippled breasts. God, what a slender waist she'd had, and the sweeping flare of those hips and voluptuously rounded buttocks! He remembered her long legs, the fullness of her white thighs… and the vee-shaped mass of dark pubic curls up between! Sonofabitch… he was going to drive himself right up the frigging wall!

He tried to put her out of his mind, not a difficult task when it came to any sense of feeling for her, because that was long dead, but from the standpoint of sex… yeah, there was the rub! Damn, how she'd loved to fuck… or suck… or anything else that had to do with a man's cock! He doubted that he would ever come across another like her, not with her beauty and insatiable hunger for bed romping. Oh, somewhere she had sisters-in-kind running free no doubt, but they weren't for the likes of a blind-man… anymore than she had been, once he'd gotten out of the hospital and come home to sit in a chair and stare in numbed bitterness at a wall he couldn't see.

Maybe he shouldn't blame her. What a hell of a life to offer a girl of twenty-eight, a handicapped husband of the same age, with nothing to look forward to but a paltry police pension for the rest of their life. It was no damned wonder she'd wanted to get out and go to work, the way he had sat around for an entire year feeling sorry for himself… but on the other hand, she could have waited a little longer for the adjustment period to run its course, too. Instead, she'd started moving out on him, going by herself to parties when he refused, and finding male escorts from the office where she worked.

At first, it hadn't bothered him too much; he'd been so Goddamned concerned with his own self-pity, but sitting alone two and three nights a week had given him long, lonesome hours in which to think, and what he'd begun to conclude wasn't good. The loss of one sense makes the others keener, including that of character insight. He'd seen it coming. In bed, on those rare occasions when he'd begun to feel like it again, she had turned into a dead-assed log… no response… nothing there. It wasn't hard to figure: she was fucking someone else, one of her office friends… maybe all of them!

One of the boys in the department, Mark had known he could confide in had chased it down for him. Of course, he'd been right… except there hadn't been any office, or "friends", just a simple long list of "johns"! Sweet Nancy had joined the ranks of bitches fucking for gain! She'd become a whore!

The day he'd filed divorce papers, he had also left for New Jersey and a seeing-eye dog school, the one move that had saved him from losing his buttons altogether. Thinking about it now, he reached down and petted the big, faithful animal at his feet, a feeling of warm affection flowing through him.

"Well, at least we've got each other, Queenie," the handsome, thirty-one year old man smiled at his inseparable companion and guide. "And that's more than a lot of people have. But… I'll be honest with you, girl, I wouldn't be the one to kick a luscious young lady out of bed, should such a creature happen along." He rubbed the big German shepherd's ears, the way he knew she liked it. "Man, how I wish you could talk, Queenie; then you could tell me with detail exactly what our charming Miss Dorsett looks like. Well… we'll make it a point to find out more tonight, eh? In the meantime, let's heat up the coffee again. I can use another cup before we head out after our bottle of wine… And what does one drink with meatioaf, girl… white or red."

Breakfast did wonders for Carol. She even found herself blaming Peggy White less and less for their lewd little party of the night before. After all, it did take two willing girls to complete the act, and she hadn't exactly been a reluctant one from any stand point… but it could never happen again! She was no lesbian and wasn't about to let herself become one, either. There were too many handsome, desirable men in the world, and one of those very young men was coming to dinner tonight, she remembered with relish, anything but sorry now that she had invited him.

She had been so right, though, about Peg and Sultan, and that thought raising mixed emotions inside her. Even though had it not been for her passionate neighbor's lustful educating of the big darling she would never have known the forbidden pleasure he could and would bring her whenever she wanted, at the same time Carol jealousy resented the shapely brunette's sneaky seduction, when she was supposed to be looking after him for her. But that would never happen again, either! She still didn't know what she would do with him while she looked for employment, but he was definitely not going to be left with Peggy…

"I wonder, baby…?" she said aloud, reaching down to toy with his ears as she thought. "Mark Cannon might consider it. I could pay him a little bit… so much per day… I suppose he could use the money; everyone can… and that raises a question. I wonder how he exists, where his money comes from? He must have an income of sorts… and he can't be too well off or he wouldn't live in this horrible section of town."

Suddenly Sultan growled his deep-throated sound that Carol had learned to recognize as an alarm of sorts, and she glanced down at him just as the buzzer gave her a start. Who could that be this early? She looked at her watch, surprised to see that it was five minutes short of eleven o'clock.

"Come on, baby, let's see who it is," Carol said, moving toward the door with the unsavory image of Ed White immediately forming in her mind.

It was Peggy… neatly dressed in a summer suit, looking somewhat haggard even with the benefit of carefully applied makeup, though Carol could understand that. She hadn't felt like any morning-glory herself a couple of hours before from all the liquor they'd consumed the previous night. But she hardly gave her neighbor's appearance much consideration; it was difficult enough for her just to face the girl after what they'd done, and she knew she was shamefully blushing…

"I–I can only stay a minute, Carol," the attractive brunette said, closing the door and leaning back against it, her hands resting behind her on the knob. "I–I had to say good-bye to you before I left. I might be back… I don't know… but it occurred to me that you'll have to make some other arrangements for Sultan… and… and I couldn't go anyway without telling you that I'm sorry… terribly sorry… you're such a beautiful, lovable girl…!"