Sid Farmer: Hot and horny weekend

Was it possible that she was losing, or perhaps had already lost her sex appeal? Her mind searched every avenue trying to discover the real cause for her husband's neglect. Of course Bill was constantly worried that his past might be found out – but still, that didn't seem to be reason enough for his neglect of her. Her ears were deaf to George's continuous flow of words as they drove along the freeway at his usual ninety miles an hour. Laura was oblivious to the traffic and the danger: her mind was already fogged by too many Martinis.

Perhaps, she thought, Bill took her for granted. Perhaps she could make him jealous, and then he would have to pay attention to her. It certainly wouldn't be hard. She wouldn't have to do anything. She could be secretive about her night out with George when Bill asked her how the party went. There could be no harm in that. George was a good friend.

She smiled and sat a little straighter, adjusting an imaginary out-of-place hair on her head. After all, George wouldn't mind being used… especially if he didn't know about it.

Laura had never even flirted with the idea of being unfaithful to her husband. Their marriage had always been satisfactory enough, up until the last few months. More than a few men had asked her out, knowing she was married. Always flattered, but never unfaithful, she had always turned them down.

But now, to her liquor-fogged brain, the idea of making Bill jealous seemed like a good one. She turned her attention to the man behind the steering wheel. I wonder, she thought, how he is to Abby in bed.

"Oh," she said out loud, amazed that she could have had such a lewd thought. Never in her life had she any ideas relating to other people's sex life. It had always been a private thing, not to be discussed or even thought of.

"What was that for," George asked her.

"Oh, nothing," Laura stammered, "I-I forgot my compact. I remember now, I left it on the dresser." She was embarrassed to talk with him after picturing him in bed with Abby, but somehow she couldn't get the thought out of her mind. She even wondered how he might be with her, how he might please her. She fought to purge the images from the back of her head, but they persisted, until suddenly, she hiccupped from the embarrassment.

George laughed. "How many of those Martinis did you drink after we left?" he asked. "More than your share I'll bet. Do you feel like continuing?"

"Of course, I want to go. These silly things will go away. All I have to do is hold my breath…" Laura took in a lungful of air, raising her full, firmly set breasts higher, straining against her dress, unconscious of George's fixed stare at her up-thrust breasts. For nearly a minute she imprisoned the air in her lungs, while her face reddened under her light makeup. "… Like that," she said, exhaling, "and they'll be gone. See! Hiccup!"

"Try putting your head between your knees and holding your breath again," George laughed. "That works when nothing else does."

Eager to rid herself of hiccups and equally as eager for some unknown reason to please her friend, she did as George said. She pulled her miniskirt higher up her smooth legs until without realizing it, she had exposed the soft firm flesh of her upper thighs. George could hardly keep his eyes on the road while he watched her put her head down between her open knees and inhale another deep breath. Her sensuously tanned thighs invited him to touch them and it was all he could do to restrain himself and keep his hands on the wheel.

Laura kept her head between her knees a little longer than necessary. Alcohol and her sudden wicked thoughts of what George would be like in bed gave her the bravado of a little daring that she had never experienced before. She became aware of her next door neighbor's sidelong glances in her direction, and enjoyed having him look at her legs. It couldn't hurt anything, and besides, she half giggled to herself, she was titillated by the cool air from the vents blowing up between her opened thighs and gently caressing the softness of her panty-covered pubic mound.

She had a smile on her face as she lifted her head up and exhaled. "I think they're gone," she said, waiting a moment to be sure. She purposely left her skirt high on her daringly exposed thighs. She wasn't ashamed of feeling slightly excited, if it was only in thought. That much couldn't hurt anything.

"Here, have a little of this," George said, pulling a flask from the glove compartment. "Martinis from the flask, ready to drink. I always mix some before I go out. It saves not only time, but a little money if I'm half-lit before I get to wherever I'm going."

Laura started to refuse, but changed her mind. So what if I'm drunk, she thought. One or two more won't hurt. I'm not a child. I can hold my liquor as well as anyone.

She took the leather-covered flask and put it to her lips, taking a full swallow, and strained not to start coughing. It tasted strange for a Martini, but she didn't dwell on it. She had no idea that George had fixed the bottle with something extra before coming to pick her up. She had no idea that he was well versed in the art of aphrodisiacs. He had just put enough in so that they would not be affected too strongly… only enough to be suggestive: he would let the liquor and her disappointment with her husband do the rest.

He pulled into the club's entranceway, stopped and walked around the car to open the door for her.

"Ooops," she said, giggling as she got out of the car and nearly stumbled. "I've had too much to drink already."

"Nonsense, silly girl, you're just not used to the night air," he said, the smile still spread across his face.

"Girls, girls, girls – topless and bottomless."

Laura gasped when she saw the sign, trying to cover her shock. For a moment she stood still, halting George on his walk to the door. Oh no, she thought. I can't… but… I'm a grown married woman now. I can take this. She giggled again, trying to suppress her strict Midwestern morality, and walked through the doorway, followed by George who tipped the doorman his usual exaggerated tip.

Laura felt her sobriety weaken as she entered the club. Strobe lights beat a weird rhythm to the music and for a brief moment she discovered that she was having trouble walking with the lights beating at her eyes in the off and on strange patterns. She glanced up at the stage in front of her to see six over large breasts bouncing wildly to the blaring music. Quickly she lowered her eyes to the floor to watch her feet follow George and the Maitre d' to their table.

"Anything wrong?" George asked her, knowing she was shocked.

She shook her head bravely, her moving head only further confusing her senses. The strobe lights beat a strange and haunting rhythm on her brain and body. The potion in George's Martini flask was beginning to take effect, but she refused to recognize it at first. She watched the dancer until she heard George's voice at her ear.

"Where are you, Laura? You look a thousand miles away."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. "It's just that I've never seen anything like this before. I wonder how those girls must feel up there with nothing covering them, dancing hour after hour. They must be awfully bored."

"Probably no more bored than you."

"George, no. I'm having a wonderful time," she apologized again. "If I'm a little silent it's just the liquor. Really, you could never bore me."

"That's not really what I'm talking about," he said.

"I don't understand."

"I mean Bill. I know it's probably none of my business, but I've noticed that he doesn't seem to pay much attention to you anymore. I wasn't surprised at all that you had been drinking when I picked you up tonight. I've been hitting the bottle pretty hard lately myself because of Abby. So I know how you feel."