Sid Farmer - Hot and horny weekend

After awhile, Ferguson had somehow found out that Bill knew about his illegal activities; but strangely enough, even though Ferguson knew, and Bill knew he knew, there was never a word said on the subject. Bill found himself quickly elevated in position not once, but three times, with increasing salaries and benefits, though he never took part in any actual embezzlement himself. Still, he kept most of the books, and was therefore an accomplice to everything his boss did.

In due time, of course, everything was discovered. The boss had begun to take greater and greater amounts, the books were showing more and more obvious discrepancies, and finally Bill's boss had skipped town. The company went bankrupt, Ferguson was caught, and they were both indicated for embezzlement. Those few days had been the worst in Bill's life, and in Laura's as well. It was as though the world had come to an abrupt halt, and there was nothing, no reality to their lives at all, except the specter of the prison sentence awaiting Bill.

Finally, the District Attorney had come to Bill with a deal. He had proposed that Bill turn state's evidence, and testify as to the extent of his boss' illegal activities. Bill had hesitated at first, feeling that to comply would be some kind of betrayal of the trust Ferguson had placed in him. But gradually he had come to realize that far from trust, his boss had used him as much as he had used the company's finances, for his own ends. And Bill agreed to the District Attorney's deal.

Laura took a suitcase from the back of the closet, and opened it up on the bed. She began placing her husband's clothes into it carefully, selecting the things she knew he liked and which would be appropriate for the kind of meeting he was going to attend. Wearily, she passed a hand across her face, and sank down on the bed. Would it really happen? Could it really be true that their torture and torment was to begin all over again?

She remembered back to the days and weeks and months that followed the trial in San Francisco. At first, she and her husband had been naive enough to think that, with the end of the trial and the conviction of Bill's boss, their troubles would be over. In truth, though, they had just begun. It had been months before Bill had been able to find an employer willing to hire him, and then only because that employer was not familiar with Bill's past. That first job had only lasted a short two weeks before Bill's part in the embezzlement scheme had come to light, and he had been fired. In the months that followed, the story was the same, over and over again. Bill would find a job after much searching, only to see it taken away from him when his new employer found out about the embezzlement and the trial, and then he would be on the streets again, facing the inevitable job interview, and the equally inevitable: "You wouldn't happen to be the Bill Wilson who used to work for Coast Financing, would you?"

After a year of this kind of torment, Bill and Laura had discovered that the strain was beginning to have an effect on their marriage: arguments were more frequent and intense, they could never seem to escape the shadow left by Bill's momentous indiscretion. And finally they had decided to leave San Francisco and try to start again in some other city. Bill had found his present job, and they'd moved to Oak Park – and at last it seemed as though they were free, out from under the incredible burden of their past mistakes. They had lived in Oak Park almost a year, and had almost forgotten what it was like to be hounded and trapped and desperate.

And now it could start all over again, all the frail and fragile supports they had built their new life on now threatened once again to be torn out from under them, with all the trauma that would ensue. Oh, it was hopeless! Laura thought to herself as she began packing Bill's suitcase once more. They would never escape… never again be able to lead a free and unworried life.

Laura stood before the full-length mirror in their large closet, and let her robe fall carelessly from her ivory shoulders. Her hands reached up to cup her youthfully erect breasts, and she examined herself in the mirror. Though she was only three years away from thirty, her exquisite body showed no signs of age, but was as vital and firm as it had ever been. She studied herself carefully, and then turned from the mirror, picking her robe up from the floor as she did so.

Both she and Bill had sacrificed something this past year. Bill had seemed to be working himself to death, almost to make up for the mistakes he'd made in San Francisco. And Laura had reconciled herself to the inevitable neglect in the bedroom that her husband's heavy work schedule caused. She didn't like to be petty, especially when Bill was working so hard to make their lives better – but all the same, he was exhausting himself, and that exhaustion was leaving him unable to satisfy Laura's desires at night. Laura felt very guilty the few times she had tried to suggest that he didn't need to work so hard, that their sexual lives together were just as important a part of their lives as the money Bill brought home at the end of the month. But he hadn't seemed to understand, and Laura had given up trying to make him see; she had instead decided that she could sacrifice something as well, and that would be her sexual desires.

It had been over a month since her husband had made love to her, though, and this new danger to their lives threatened a disruption that would be far more injurious than Bill's exhaustion ever could be. As she finished packing her husband's suitcase, and set it by the bedroom door for him to pick up, Laura wondered whether she would be able to survive this new wrinkle in the already disturbed pattern of her life.

At five o'clock, the door opened, and Laura heard Bill's voice as he entered the front door.

"Honey, are you dressed? George is with me."

Damn, she thought, when she heard him. She had hoped for at least a few minutes alone with him before he had to leave. Quickly, she threw on a simple housedress, and went out into the living room.

George Farrington turned to her, and greeted her with a large grin, as he always did. She smiled back at the steel grey eyes that always seemed to penetrate her when they looked in her direction. She always felt curiously exposed when he looked at her that way.

"Hi, Laura. How are you," George said warmly. "I gave Bill a lift home. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, why should I?" she smiled. Laura thought how little George Farrington looked like his forty years. His face and body showed no excess flesh, but was solid and handsome. Except for the slight greying of his hair, she would have guessed his age at about thirty-two or three.

"Hello, honey. Get that bag packed?" Bill moved across the room from the bar where he'd been fixing drinks, and handed her one, neglecting to kiss her on the cheek as he'd always done their first year of marriage. For some reason he didn't have the inclination to give her that little bit of reassurance that she needed so badly, especially now.

"Yes, it's in the bedroom," Laura answered him.

"Good. Well, here's to Dallas, and a safe trip," Bill toasted.

"And a quiet trip," Laura added, catching her husband's eye. She noticed the worry was still there, and that Bill's attempted joviality was merely a cover.

Bill finished his drink quickly, and moved into the bedroom. Laura excused herself from George, and followed him. Coming into the bedroom, she shut the door behind her, and threw herself into her husband's arms.

"Oh, Bill… tell me it isn't going to happen all over again!"

"Hey, hey now."

"Come on, honey," he answered, trying to disentangle himself from his wife's caresses. "Don't get so excited. Nothing's going to happen, believe me."

"You say that, but you don't mean it, darling. I know you're worried… just as worried as I am."