Stanley Redman - Mark_s wandering wife vol. II

She went in and slipped onto a stool at the end of the bar. The room was dimly lighted, carpeted, plush and cozy, occupied mostly by men, probably conventioneers, she thought, but there were women, too, all paired off… none alone like herself. She felt devilishly wild and knew that male eyes were following her. Wouldn't it be something if the nice barman asked her for her ID to prove her age? She was in violation, of course, being in there and under twenty-one, but it wasn't bothering her. She knew that she looked at least twenty-three or four. She felt quite confident and made a point of letting her voluptuously curved buttocks hang over the rim of the cushioned stool like a pouting lip.

The barman, young himself, in his black tie and red, short jacket, smiled at her.

"What would you like, Miss?"

"Bourbon soda… lots of ice, please."

She was sorry she hadn't taken the last stool in the corner. It would've given her command of the room. Presently, she was trying to utilize the back-bar mirror to scan the male faces, but it wasn't a very effective device with the array of bottles and shelving blocking it. She would have to think of some other method if she was to be successful in this escapade, she decided; either another approach or depend entirely on male aggressiveness. She worked her buttocks back a little further on the stool.

A flash of masculine white teeth in the semi darkness caught her eye in the mirror. They were handsome teeth, seemingly set in a handsome face, but she couldn't be sure with the lighting. Anyway, the face was studying her, eyes locked on her back… undoubtedly her behind and legs. She sensed a little shiver of pleasure. It was almost a familiar face, she thought, engaged in conversation with a group of men at a booth… but playing almost continual attention to her now. She lifted her drink and sipped. If only she dared turn around… smile perhaps… God, she didn't have to… he was getting to his feet… coming toward her now… Lord, it was Byron Acker!

"Mrs. Gates…" he said, moving between her and the next stool to stand, smiling. "How come you're not at the victory celebration?"

"Nothing to celebrate, Mr. Acker," she said, with a pleasant smile of her own. She had turned toward him, was looking directly into his eyes… nice dark eyes, she thought… actually, a handsome man in a rugged, outdoorsy way, attractive grey temples, clean smile… she'd never noticed before.

"You're not a Coleman supporter then?"

"I'm not politically minded I'm afraid," she replied easily. He was still smiling, his eyes on her lips, reminding her that the soft indirect lighting would be playing there, causing an attractive jewel like glitter against the thin layer of lip rouge. She wet them tantalizingly with the tip of her small tongue.

"That sounds strange coming from one of a political family," he said, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "I'm sure your husband and uncle are not in accord with you."

"You'd be quite right, Mr. Acker," said Laurie, tilting her head provocatively. "But then, I suddenly find that my husband and uncle are in accord with me on very few, if, any things."

"Oh? And that's why you're here… all alone?"

"It is."

"Family squabble?"

Laurie shrugged pretty shoulders. "It's not important," she said. "Why don't you join me in a drink?"

He nodded. "I'd like that," he said, slipping up onto the vacant stool beside her. "I've already had too much, but how can I resist such a charming invitation? Have you had dinner?"

"No… but I don't believe I want any," she said, letting her eyes play over his handsome face. "I think I'm too full of wildness tonight to waste time eating."

"Hmmmm, so you've been drinking, too."

"A little… but I feel wonderfully mellow… How do you feel?"

"Better… since I've seen and talked to you," he replied, gazing levelly at her.

Laurie experienced another pleasant little tingle rippling through her, and then a second sensation of compassion for this man's feelings at what they had done to him. God, it suddenly occurred to her, what would he think of her if he knew the part she'd unwittingly played in losing the nomination for him? Yet, Uncle Julian had said he would stop the Colemans', but he hadn't… still, she couldn't believe he'd given up so easily… not Uncle Julian.

"I-I know how you must feel, Mr. Acker…" she started to console him and he interrupted.

"Byron," he said. "Let's drop the Mr. and Mrs. bit. Byron and…?"

"Laurie."

"Laurie," he repeated. "Rolls nicely off the tongue… As for how I feel… one must learn to lose gracefully… but it's harder than hell when you're certain you've been swindled, Laurie."

She couldn't resist touching his hand in consolation, placing her small soft one on top of his larger, tanned, muscular one. "Don't give up, Byron," she said softly, her eyes searching his deeply. "I have a feeling that it's all going to work out to your advantage before it's over."

He grinned. "That sounds real palatable," he said. "Does that feeling somehow include you in the picture?"

Laurie felt the warmth creeping into her face. She smiled, her excitement obvious. "It might," she said softly. "I-I think it could."

She could hear his breathing even above the hum and hustle in the room, see the glint of lust flicker briefly in his dark eyes.

"Let's get out of here," he said huskily. "Where would you like to go?"

"The party… at the Colemans'… if you'll take me," she said, realizing for the first time that she wanted to flaunt this man in front of her husband, in front of all of them before she set their world on its cockeyed tail.

Byron Acker smiled broadly. "All right," he said, slipping from the stool. "It sounds like one hell of a wild idea to me. I'm game if you are."

Laurie laughed and he helped her off to her feet. She ran her arm through his possessively. "Come on, Darling," she said gaily. "Let's have a ball tonight."

In his car, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her, smoothing his big hand over her back and down to her round full buttocks as he pulled her tight to him. She slipped her tiny tongue into the warmth of his mouth and then he did the same to her while she sucked gently on it. His hand moved to her breast to caress and stroke there and with her own she felt down between them, her nails tracing the length of his already erect penis.

"Christ," he gasped. "I'm going to fuck you… you know that, don't you?"

"Oh yes, Darling… I want you to… but the Colemans' first…?"

"All right… the Colemans' first. I think I can wait that long… but don't be surprised if I screw you right in the middle of their floor."

Laurie giggled into his mouth. "Wonderful! I think I'd love that."

"Y-You little hot-pants imp, you," he rasped, kissing her once more. Then, he forced himself away from her and started the engine. "Come on, let's go blow the lid off their Godamned party!"

Phillip had never seen anything like it before. It no longer fell under the label of victory celebration; it was an out and out Bacchanalia. A rather plumpish woman had climbed onto a table in the center of the room and had stripped naked except for garter-belt, stockings and heels. Drunkenly, she was attempting to dance, the heavy, fleshy pendulums of her brown tipped breasts swaying and jouncing with her contortions, the layered, unsmooth chunkiness of her buttocks and thighs rippling and jostling unappetizingly. More drunken couples lay on the floor at her feet, laughing and clapping their hands in unison rhythm as she tried to bump and grind to their tempo. Vulgarly, she increased her efforts, spurred on by her audience, obscenely spreading her legs as she thrust her broad, black, hairy bushed pelvis in lewd, suggestive stabs, the wide aperture splitting her crotch as visible and repulsive to him as her gaping mouth. Someone had handed her a man's straw hat with a paper band around it that read "Coleman for Governor" and she donned that.