Clarence Tydings - The unfaithful girlfriend

Jessica decided to waste no time; his tone was beginning already to bear some traces of hostility. She had a task to do… and there was no logic in waiting a second longer than necessary.

"I… I… uh, wanted to tell you I've made up my mind on your… your offer," she said, a bit embarrassed that someone might be listening. She thought she heard a muffled chuckle behind her, but decided not to turn around. Her head was lowered just a bit, her eyes darting around at the impressive array of network-owned television equipment, her gaze averted from Felder's.

"Right, baby!" he nearly shouted. He started to put his hands on her shoulders, but remembered the healthy-looking friend still out there in the crowd. "How about tomorrow night? You can meet me at the office around seven thirty. I'll tell the night security man your name and you can come right up."

Jessica regained her courage and looked him in the eye again, "Okay. I'll be there."

"Marvelous, sweetie," he leered, "Dinner first, then… Well, we'll have to see what happens."

Phillip had that questioning look about him when she managed to squeeze her way back to him, but he chose not to ask any questions. They watched a little longer, then, like most of the others, began to leave when real darkness set in. New Yorkers would rather be in the relative safety of their own apartments when nighttime arrives, and Jessica and Phillip were no exceptions. Only tonight, Jessica had invited Phillip to spend the night at her aunt's. He'd have to use the living room sofa, of course, but this way they'd be up early and off for their picnic out at the beach.

"Let's forget a cab tonight," suggested Jessica, her arm around his hips as they walked slowly toward the subway stairs. There were still plenty of people about, and even here on the edge of Central Park, they felt safe and comfortable.

"I'd hoped you wouldn't mind," confessed Phillip. "Actually, I was worried I wouldn't have enough to get us out to Coney Island. I'm sorry, Jessica, I just don't know where the money went. I guess…"

"Quiet, darling," she said, squeezing him tightly, "I don't care about the money. You'll have tons of it one day. I just know you will. With your talent, it's only a matter of time before you're the hottest art talent in the business. You'll see, Phillip."

Phillip didn't reply; he had heard Jessica's optimistic praise before, and though he hoped her enthusiasm was warranted, he was fast getting tired. Tired of being turned down, tired of hunting for that big break that might not even be there. He held Jessica's slender young body close to his, reassuringly. Nighttime settled quickly in the canyons of the city, and her radiant warmth felt good in the evening chill. His right hand was in his trousers pocket, and with his fingers, Phillip could feel the paper-thin fold of one-dollar bills. And that was all he had left from his final paycheck at the store, all until the elusive opening came his way.

And he couldn't help wondering if it would ever come at all.

Jessica's aunt, Mildred Whithers, was asleep when they arrived, a small blessing she was indeed grateful for, as Aunt Mildred had a tendency to ramble on for hours, particularly when she had me rare privilege of meeting new people. Jessica helped her boyfriend make up his bed on the sofa and tip-toed upstairs to her bedroom, kissing him affectionately before her departure.

She unfastened the clip at the back of her head and brushed the day's knots and tangles from her thick blonde hair, sitting before the antique vanity mirror on a padded stool. Her thoughts went back to the last time she and Phillip had been together, other than their daytime meetings for job-hunting. They had borrowed a car from a friend of his from school and driven up into the New York upstate hillsides. Her heart nearly missed a beat even now, thinking about me beauty and romance of it all. They had found a gorgeously secluded place for sharing their picnic lunch, and before either of them realized it, their warm kisses had become flaming hot caresses. She remembered Phillip's hand on her breasts; the way she'd offered no resistance as he unfastened her bra, thinking that nothing would be wrong with it, the tender tingle of his fingers on her young nipples, the way he made her gasp for breath and squeal as he played with her breasts there on me grassy hillside beneath a sheltering elm tree. And she recalled also how she'd been so dreamily unconcerned with the reality of it all, blinded by the rapturous music of romance, that she hadn't stopped his hand as it slid up her leg with one smooth, unhesitating movement and went straight under the thin sheerness of her panties to the pink moist lips of her vagina. Even now her mouth went dry at the memory of that moment, at the frightening closeness she had experienced that afternoon, a closeness to losing her virginity she had failed so blindly to see coming. She had been nearly crazy with love for Phillip that day when his fingertips played tenderly with me ragged pink flanges of her pussy, tweaked playfully the tender nerve-filled bud of her clitoris. His fingers had probed deeply into the hot thin vaginal passage up between her slightly parted legs as he had tried to tug her panties down. It seemed now that perhaps it was the chill of the air on her unaccustomedly naked thighs that triggered her response, returned her to normalcy. Phillip had first pleaded, then argued, and finally, demanded that she cooperate, but she had resolutely stood her ground, and in me end, she emerged the winner. He had pouted for awhile, looking for all the world like a five year old who'd been deprived of a toy. Then, he'd finally begun to speak to her again, offering to do anything she liked to make it safe. Use rubbers, pull it out in time, anything… and the rest of their day was far from the spring-like romance it had been before. They had driven back to the city in near silence, speaking only as necessary, and then only in monosyllabic mutterances, her with an uncomfortable wetness between her legs that soaked her panties and threatened to stain through her dress. And Phillip with that bulging hardness under his trousers mat she could see so clearly in the light from the automobile dash gauges.

And now this! How could she reconcile all that with what had just this evening happened? She couldn't pretend she didn't know what Marty Felder wanted of her, that she didn't know the full lurid extent of his proposition. How could she leave her own real love alone on the sofa when tomorrow she would be called on to… Oh God, she just couldn't bear to think about it! It was just more than she could handle tonight… tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

Jessica undressed and slipped between the cool crisp sheets and soon sank into a tossing, fitful sleep.

Jessica's restlessness had kicked the covers off her naked young body as she dreamed a tormented dream of lovemaking, of Phillip's nakedness against hers. And of Marty Felder.

Her door opened gently and squeaked a shrill alarm that seemed a dozen times louder in the quiet of the night. Jessica opened her eyes as Phillip stepped into the room, wearing nothing but his white undershorts.

"Phillip! Have you lost your mind?!" she tried to whisper and shout at the same time.

He came over toward her in the pale moonlight from the open second story window; she could see the bulging mound concealed inside his shorts and knew instantly what was on his mind.

"Phillip," she repeated, "you must be crazy. Aunt Mildred will hear you and throw us both out! You have to leave… now!"

But he came at her and pulled her up into his arms, yanking her nakedness up against his strong body and kissing her furiously, his tongue snaking between her lips hungrily. She felt frightened and strangely excited at the same time, and a kind of emptiness ached in her belly. He pushed forward and she yielded to the powerful pressure, falling back onto the bed beneath his crushing weight. His hand began to rake her body, smoothing over the ripe swell of her bare breasts; his lips found her pink crinkly nipple and he bit into it painfully. She covered her mouth hurriedly to stifle the cry that nearly escaped.