Jon Reskind - Kappy volume 2

Angrily, he hit the accelerator. He had to unwind somehow, or blow wide-open. Maybe it was the joints of hash Max Keele had broke out to settle them all down just before they left that was responsible for her mien of satiated tranquillity. She was high; he was, he knew, and damn, he was grateful for that under the circumstances…

"Don't drive so fast, Jack," she said without looking at him, her tone of voice nearly emotionless.

He glanced at her again and saw that she hadn't moved from her provokingly supine position. "Well, glad to know that you're still with me," he edgily replied. "I was beginning to think you were still up on a cloud with that lecherous sonofabitch we humbly refer to as our boss."

"You sound terribly vindictive, darling," she said, her soft intonation unchanged. "Didn't your end of the party go so well?"

Goddamn, for two-cents he'd backhand her right across the teeth; he was a roaring furnace inside… Keep cool… keep cool…! "I didn't intend that it would," he lied, struggling to keep his voice calmed. "Remember, we had a purpose?"

"And I think we accomplished it," she said, dreamily. "Anyway, we'll know better tonight won't we."

"You sound as if you might be looking forward to it with vigor," he snapped, worming his way with an angry recklessness through the sparse, early morning traffic.

"Well aren't you?" she questioned, raising her head for the first time to look over at him.

"Depends what phase of the program you're referring to, Mrs. Heath," he replied, sensing her unwavering stare measuring him. "Personally, I went into this arrangement for the monetary reward, not the entertainment en passant."

"I-I don't think I like your inference, Jack," Carol managed, a qualmy tightness knotting in her belly as she straightened in the seat and tugged demurely at her tiny skirt. God, was she wearing the sensuous feelings Max had aroused in her that openly? It must be the pot. She had to get hold of herself…!

"Was I inferring? Or could it be that I struck a vein of guilt in your conscience, my love?"

"A-A vein of guilt…!" she half-choked, as much angered by his tacit question as she was flustered by her own lack of emotional camouflage. God, she had never intended that he would know… not really know… or was he just making little green-eyed stabs in the dark? She had to bluff her way now…! "Just what in hell are you trying to get at, Jack Heath?"

"Oh shit, Carol! Let's not play games, eh? I know you, remember… your husband, the guy you sleep with when you're not tied up for the night?" he spat, immediately sorry for the latter, unfair barb, but for one brief second his jealous rage had nearly gotten the better of him. Quickly, he added with a wry sneer: "My loving wife, the straight girl with all the inhibitions!"

Carol sensed the blood flushing hotly into her cheeks, a short-lived wave of apprehensive shame and guilt washing through her. My God, he had to know, but how? Had he seen her… watched them from some voyeuristic advantage… or was he still just stabbing out wildly? All right, it was his move! She'd be damned if she would make any open confessions!

"Just what am I supposed to feel guilty about, lord and master?" she threw at him, forcing the knife-like edge to her tone. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but I've been laboring under the impression that this swapping arrangement with the Keeles was to both our mutual advantage, and like all the others in the capitol, agreed on before hand. Or maybe it's just that I've suddenly blown my mind, eh…?"

"Don't get cute with me, Carol," Jack flung sharply back at her. "And don't try to compare the old gang parties to a night with that lecherous sonofabitch! Christ, at least the capitol crowd were all friends our own age, and… and the whole idea with them had been to strengthen our marriage, not to undermine it, or is my memory failing me!"

"God, something is failing you, I swear!" Carol replied, feeling a resurgence of confidence at his unhidable jealousy. He was floundering, flailing out wildly, blinded by his jaundiced eye, and as much as that usually did nice little things for her ego, this time it was almost nauseating to her. "And if you don't slow this damned car down, everything is going to be failing both of us! Please, Jack will you drive slower… please…?"

He did, but subconsciously; her unexpected haughtiness had completely upset him. Christ, he'd handled it badly right from the beginning, instead of keeping silent as he'd planned. But maybe it wasn't too late for that treatment. She knew damned well he was plenty up-tight, and sooner or later she was going to conclude why, if she hadn't already. He could wait now; he'd planted the self-incriminating seeds.

Carol welcomed the end of their verbal barrage. The silence was soothing, even though the atmosphere between them was tensely strained. He'd been right about one thing, she thought as they drew closer to their apartment: there was no comparing her wanton performance with Max Keele to any other "swap" arrangements she had ever participated in. And she had no desire, as in the past, to discuss it with her husband, or work into the usual love-making with him to prove where their true affections really lie.

In fact, she felt no urge to try and smooth things. Let him stew in his jealousy; it might do him some good in the long run. Besides, in the wake of her absolute sensual fulfillment she felt like doing nothing but reveling in the physical satiation of her still tingling young body. The mere thought of sex now with Jack after the erotic, and excitably obscene session with Max, seemed like the chaser that followed a good stiff drink… only to put out the fire and spoil the effect.

It wasn't that her love for Jack had lessened in the slightest; it was simply that the big handsome Penal Director had aroused in her an almost mesmerizing desire for his carnally salacious lovemaking. Dear God, what a licentious animal he was! No man had ever brought her such absolute physical enchantment, she realized, remembering how she had sucked his huge cock with eager voraciousness, until his raging hot sperm had squirted down her throat, the vivid memory alone sufficient to again send wild sensations of lustful incitement racing through her sensitive young loins and belly.

She had never done that before to any man… couldn't bring herself to… not even to Jack, but there had been some unfathomable, lewdly compelling charisma this vilely wicked lecher emitted that she couldn't fight against, and God knows, she would do it again! She would… she would! If only Jack possessed one fraction of Max's dynamic magnetism, what a success he would be! Yes… and a measure of his animalism, too…!

God, she could hardly wait for night to come… and the Spaxton meeting. She could only imagine the orgiastic acts indulged in, her lewd mental scenes adding fuel to the rekindling desire in her sensuously exhausted young body. If only it never had to end…

Jack slept fitfully throughout the morning, finally awakening shortly after noon to see and feel the warmth of Carol's lushly curved nakedness beside him, contentedly relaxed in the throes of sleep. For a long moment he stared at her beautiful reposed face, the pangs of his jealousy creeping back over him. Her slightly parted, full ripe lips reminded him of the way they had been wrapped around Keele's huge cock and once more his gut knotted in vindictive bitterness. He let his eyes move hungrily down over her soft, sensually arousing contours which the silken sheet couldn't hide, but rather, enhanced as she lay there on her back, the thin material clinging provocatively to them. Damn her, why hadn't she confided in him… told him the whole story as always? Had she been afraid of what he would say, or do? No… no, he couldn't believe that. There was only one answer: she didn't want him to know… because she never wanted to do it to him! The bitch! For two-cents he'd climb right up on top of her and shove his cock right down her throat!