Milton Granby - Four to a bed

Christ! I’d give anything to get a taste of that little honeypot… She looks young and innocent and vulnerable… just what I like… Jeff’s thoughts ran lewdly on, his eyes blurred from the strain of unwavering concentration. So sweet and tender… if I could only get my hands on that little piece.

“She sure is a honey,” he grinned to Harry, handing him back the photograph. “You picked a good one, and no mistake! Am I right?” Jeff winked and Harry felt pleased at his companion’s praise. Yes, he felt proud of his young wife: so lovely, so gentle, such a perfect wife, except for… well… Involuntarily, Harry found his mind flitting back to the picture he’d seen of Jeff’s wife, exuding self-assurance, sexiness, erotic promise. Sandy certainly didn’t exude that ! Harry thought, unable to repress the pang of bitterness which rose up inside him. If only she was more responsive, more welcoming physically. Ann would be , he was sure; you could tell that from her photograph. That was the only thing that marred their fairy-tale like marriage. It wasn’t Sandy’s fault; things would probably get better. If only she’d make an effort; show him that she loved him, like she was always saying she did.

“How about a game of poker?” Jeff’s loud voice broke in on the young husband’s troubled thoughts and Harry was glad to be able to forget his worries in the absorbing card game.

Harry couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t so much the narrowness and hardness of the bed nor the stifling air of the small cell, as much as the turbulence of his thoughts. Even last night. his first night in jail, he had been able to fall into a relatively untroubled sleep. He was one of those people who possessed the faculty of being able to sleep anywhere and at any time, and he knew that this attribute would be useful to him when he had finished his training as a salesman and would have to go on the road. But now his mind was on fire with disturbing images and ideas.

The horrible reality of his present position had penetrated to his inner consciousness, instilling him with a fear that the equilibrium of his life, his marriage with Sandy, everything, in fact, was in danger of toppling. He couldn’t shake loose the doubts which tormented him any more than he could obliterate the image of an exquisite dark-haired beauty who was beckoning to him in a series of impressions delineated with startling clarity on his dazed brain. He couldn’t banish the memory of Ann, Jeff’s wife, from his head. He had had only a brief look at her photograph… why was her picture torturing him? He had a lovely young wife of his own; things, except for this present setback were going well. What was the matter with him? Sure, Sandy and he had their little difficulties. That was only natural. He really loved her; there was no doubt about that, and together they would solve their problem. It had been love at first sight for both of them, and even though Sandy was so young, they both knew they had to be together and had finally, after long argument, convinced her parents to allow them to marry. After the decision had been made, things seemed to look up, and he was accepted right out of college in a trainee program, and they were able to rent a great apartment which Sandy’s father had discovered for them. And so they had got married, Sandy a ravishing beauty in a froth of white lace, her face glowing with love and excitement as she swept up the aisle on her father’s arm. Harry remembered clearly how she looked when he finally was able to lead her down the aisle and how proud and happy he felt. And they lived happily ever after …

Again, Harry experienced a wave of bitterness, a sort of emptiness which he knew had nothing to do with his being in jail. It was a feeling he had tried to suppress during the last two months, tried to ignore, pretend it wasn’t there. But it was! A feeling of disappointment. Yes! He couldn’t help feeling that he had been somehow cheated, and in some strange way, seeing the picture of Jeff’s gorgeous sultry wife added to his discontent. He just, well, it was obvious, that Jeff’s wife knew how to satisfy him in bed. And that was what mattered. If a man was happy with what he was getting in bed he was ready for anything, could face any problem the day might bring. And that’s what’s wrong with me! he complained silently as he changed his position in the cramped cell cot for the dozenth time. If only things were different! If only Sandy wasn’t so cold…

Sleep having eluded him completely, he sat up in bed, giving full rein to his worried thoughts. Poor Sandy. She had actually cried on the phone when he’d talked to her and told her what had happened to him. She had been so distressed, and Harry could just imagine her, lonely and upset at their apartment. It wasn’t easy for her, he knew, because just after their marriage her parents had moved to Michigan, her father being transferred to Detroit. She had also quit her job in order to devote her entire time to Harry, and he knew she was really feeling the strain of the discordancy in their marriage. It wasn’t really her fault. She was so young and naturally inexperienced: innocent really, of what married life really entailed.

And things had gone wrong right from the very start. On their wedding night in fact. Harry flinched even now as he recalled that painful evening, and try as he might, he couldn’t dam the flood of memories which came rushing back with such intensity as if they sought to alleviate their strength by being remembered and recalled.

It had been a mistake to drive all the way to the resort on Lake Winnebago in Wisconsin right after their reception, he knew now, but Sandy had been so insistent, having everything planned in her mind and wanting things to be just right. He himself had wanted to stop and spend the night in Milwaukee because even though the drive wasn’t that long, they were both strung out after the day and their nerves were at their snapping point already. But Sandy had pleaded, almost in tears, to continue, and he had acquiesced against his better judgment. But she looked so appealing in her pink going away suit that he hadn’t the heart to deny her, and so they had driven on, arriving at their resort very late, a flat tire having added to their difficulties along the way. Their little cabin, however, was almost idyllic, very clean and cozy, just what they had hoped it would be. Harry had felt his tiredness and irritation fading away as he held his lovely new bride in his arms and felt the palpitating warmth of her frail body against his. Then she had rushed away and headed into the bathroom to prepare herself for bed, and Harry had sat down to wait, whiling away the time with a drink from the selection of half-pints arrayed in the cabinet in the living room.

At last, Sandy had appeared and had stood in the doorway of the bathroom, her soft lovely body gracefully enhanced by the sheer chiffon of her long white nightgown. She had tied her blonde hair tressed up with a blue ribbon, and little curls fell down in wisps around her face. Her eyes seemed huge, like limpid pools in her pale face, and her natural trepidation added to the tender mystery of her doe-like appearance. Harry felt a wave of love wash over him for his beautiful young wife, and also felt the first really urgent stirrings of his prick against his leg as his eyes devoured for the first time the alluring semi-nakedness of his bride.

Without a word, he had strode across the room and swept her into his arms, crushing her against him in a passionate, hungry kiss, demanding and eager. He felt her wince from the touch of his throbbing cock as it pulsated through the fabric of his pants, and misinterpreting her reaction, he hurriedly stripped off his shirt and then his pants, allowing the turgid erection of his penis to leap unimpeded upward. Sandy’s startled gaze had fallen on his huge pulsating hardness, and Harry remembered now how a stab of anger had teased him as her horrified reaction had registered on her pale face. But he had cautioned himself that it was all new to her… to take it easy and everything would be all right. Once more he had clasped her to him, overwhelmed with love for her, overpowered by the intoxicating nearness of her trembling body. He could feel the supple softness of her nubile young breasts through the sheer cloth of her nightie, and eagerly his hands worked their way down the velvety curves of her slender body. His heavy blood-filled cock, hungry and avid, jabbed against the tender flesh of her thigh as his mouth found hers and his tongue rushed inside the warm buttery cavern of her mouth. She responded eagerly to his kiss, her tongue fencing with his, her lips firm yet resilient beneath his.