Jean-Jacques Tibor - The loser_s wife

Perhaps Johnny Dutton wouldn't have considered the matter so lightly if he had been fully aware of the old manager's movements whenever Laura was in the apartment.

Mr. Rogers sat completely concealed in the darkness except for the rounded mask of light on his face. He has turned off all the lights in his room and the only illumination came from the next room, through the hole he had drilled in the wall.

He had lain awake for hours in the blackness of his room, waiting for Laura Dutton to come home. He felt very pleased with his patience. Most of the time the young girl came home with her husband and though it was still exciting to watch her undress, to watch her husband fucking her, he liked it best when she was alone. Then, in the darkness he could pretend that she was undressing for him, that he was the man waiting in the bed for her…

He sat nervously in the quietness and took long pulls at the bottle of cheap wine beside him. Why was she taking so long in that Goddamned bathroom?

The slim, statuesque brunette wiped the last traces of cold cream from her face and dried herself with a small towel. The reflection staring back at her in the mirror made her feel better. She rarely wore much makeup, and now without it her face was extraordinarily beautiful. Even in the harshness of the bathroom light her skin was flawless and her eyes still that strange shade of very light blue. The bourbon had made her knees a little weak and she steadied herself with one hand as she carefully brushed her coal-black hair into blue-lighted glossiness.

She was wearing only a sheer silk nighty over her bra and panties and she stepped back from the mirror, opening it and trying to see the fullness of her figure in the small mirror. It was no use, the mirror was too high for her to see more than the tops of her shoulders.

She picked up her empty glass and moved back into the softly lighted bedroom, closing the bathroom behind her. It took only a moment in the kitchen to get some ice and make herself another drink and then she came back to stand before the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

Laura felt the soothing heat of the liquor spreading through her, numbing the sadness of a life that was going wrong, a husband that drank and gambled continually.

She often wondered if there was something she was doing wrong. She wondered if somehow her looks were fading. But, now as she stood before the mirror she knew nothing had happened to her appearance. If anything, now at twenty-two she was even more attractive than as a teenager.

If I have gained any weight, she thought, it doesn't seem to show anywhere. Of course I can't really tell with this lace thing on.

The man in the shadows on the darkened other side of the wall watched the girl undo the ribboned bow at her neck and tried to stifle a sudden gasp as the silken negligee slid from her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Laura stepped out of the swirled silk at her feet and returned her gaze to the reflection in the mirror. She stood at first with both hands on her hips, her legs slightly spread, and studied the image that faced her. She went through a checkpoint system that she always followed whenever she examined her body to make sure that she wasn't sagging or gaining weight in any area.

First, my feet and ankles, she said to herself, then laughed. There really isn't much a woman can do to make a foot pretty except cover it. At least they're small. And my ankles still look too slim to support me.

Her eyes moved a little higher, resting for a moment on her calves and then upward to her thighs. Her legs were perfect, with just enough weight to shape their flawless curves but still firm and slender.

I'm awfully lucky, Laura thought as she ran her hands over her thighs and across the firm flatness of her belly. She slid them past the elastic ridges of her black silk bikini panties and upward to her breasts…

The peeping man sat entranced, leaning forward on the hard chair as he watched each sensuous move Laura Dutton made. He knew that as long as he made no noise there was no possibility that she might catch him. The hole that he had cut in the wall between the two rooms was disguised on each side by a phony ventilating grill.

When she had come home earlier and he had seen her remove her dress he had felt the familiar erection beginning beneath his trousers, but it had disappeared during the long time she had been in the bathroom.

Now, as she stood almost nude in the other room, he could again feel his penis straining painfully against the confines of his clothing. He stared intently through the small hole, gulping sloppily at his wine and trying to anticipate each further move the beautiful girl might make.

Laura cupped her full breasts in both hands and raising them. Even without the support of the bra she would have been able to raise the curved globes only slightly. Her breasts were so firm that they sagged very little, if at all.

My God! If only Johnny were here, she moaned aloud as she felt her nipples respond to the caresses of her hands. My breasts feel so sensitive, so eager to be touched. I want to feel his hands on me. I want him here to put his hands on me…!

She stood there with her eyes half closed, not consciously realizing what she was doing, and reached behind her to unsnap the small hooks that held her straining bra. As it fell to the floor and the cool air washed across her reddened, erectile nipples she shivered in quick delight. Christ! Why isn't he here! It feels so wonderful when he kisses me there, when I can feel his tongue on my breasts… when he bites me so tenderly.

She had moved back slightly from the mirror while holding herself and now she felt the edge of the bed against the backs of her calves. The combination of the liquor and the sudden desire that had been racing through her made her feel a little weak and she threw the covers back and lay down on the bed.

The coldness of the sheets was doing nothing to counteract the raging heat in her body and her legs strained as she stretched spread-eagled on the cool linen…

I've got to stop this, she thought, I'm driving myself crazy. It's these Goddamn panties, they're so hot! I'm going to take them off and try to relax.

The old man's breath echoed back at him, coming in huge explosive gasps, as he watched her slowly inching the last remaining strip of sheer black silk from her raised hips.

She kicked the panties from her feet. Oh God! Where's Johnny! I want him here! I want to feel his hands here… between my legs… holding me… inside me!

Laura's hands were between her thighs, lightly probing their way up and down and finally coming to rest on the raised mound of softly curled pubic hair…

Mr. Rogers felt his blood boiling into a great pounding pressure in his brain. He couldn't believe it! Right before his eyes she was holding herself like that! Then he heard those strange moaning sounds coming from her lips. He tried to get closer, to hear was she was saying. Slowly he tried to calm the roaring noises in his head until he was able to make out her words.

"Johnny, where are you… Ohhhhhhhhhhhh… Johnny, please hurry… I want you… I need somebody… anybody…! I need somebody. Now…! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh… Johnny, SOMEBODY… please, please help me…!"

She was begging! The old man heard her. She's begging! That little bitch! I'll help her. I'll help her right now!

The man moved back so quickly he knocked over the chair but neither he nor the girl in the other room heard it as it fell to the floor. Or the door slam as he hurried from his room.

Laura writhed violently on her bed, straining in unfulfilled desire. Her eyes were closed tightly as she drove her fingers faster and faster in and out of her eager, heated vagina… she didn't hear her door open… and the click of the light being turned off meant nothing to her crazed, lust-filled mind…