Perry Scope - When the loving gets rough

"Oh, Al!" Karen jumped up from the couch nervously. "Pat Collins, this is my husband, Al. Al, I told you Pat was coming over tonight, didn't I?" Karen could feel her face going pink. She glanced at Pat's calm poise and envied the other girl. She tucked in her blue blouse at the waistband and made an effort to act casual, just as if Pat were indeed a friend dropping by for coffee and a friendly chat.

Al looked at the girl and smiled awkwardly. He suppressed an urge to grin at Patricia Collins like a fool. "Sure. I'm glad to meet you, Pat. You girls having coffee?"

"Happy to know you, Al. The coffee's delicious. Mine always tastes like diluted mud."

"I'll get you a cup, Al." Karen backed off towards the kitchen. She noticed the way Al was looking at Pat, and felt a glow of happiness. She allowed herself to gloat a bit. Al might have believed that the person she had claimed to meet at the coffeehouse was a girl, but it was obvious that he hadn't expected to meet anyone like Pat! Even dull Al, who never noticed anything except his books and time schedules was impressed by this girl.

"Take your time, Karen. Al and I will get acquainted," Pat called to the girl. Then she turned to Al and patted the seat next to her. "You have a charming wife, Al. We've been having a delightful chat."

"Karen said she met you at that… that coffee-shop in Venice. You don't look like… I mean, uh…" Allen stammered uncomfortably. The body heat from this beautiful woman seemed to penetrate his clothing.

Pat laughed coolly. "It's all right," she interrupted, giving the young man one of her warmest smiles. "I don't look like you expected a girl from one of those places to look, is that it?"

Her smile encouraged him. He relaxed again. "Yes. I guess that's just what I was going to say."

"I suppose I don't." Pat put a slim-fingered hand on his surprisingly strong wrist. "People have many moods and appearances. Don't let this one fool you," she confessed, knowing he would take her words for whatever he wished them to mean.

Allen felt the cool fingers on his wrist and started to breathe harder. He was painfully aware of his body's reactions to this dark-haired, tan-skinned, shy-eyed beauty.

"I won't," he answered, wondering what she meant. He dared not let himself believe that her words were a subtle invitation. He could imagine her going on to say something like… I'm really a tiger under this respectable suit. And I've been waiting for someone like you… Her eyes seemed almost to talk for her. Allen thought immediately of the nights he had lain in bed wanting Karen and knowing that if he took her, she would lie there, hating it and him. Somehow he hadn't realized how much he longed for a woman who would respond to him, enjoy sex as much as he did. He was suddenly sure that Pat was such a woman.

Pat sighed softly. This was going perfectly. She had decided on what she would do from the first moment she saw Allen. It was almost too easy. She glanced at the kitchen door and listened for the sounds of china being rattled. She hoped her timing was good. "Al!" she looked up into his hazel eyes. Then she let her eyes trail down and stop at his generous mouth. "You're a very good-looking man."

Allen felt the faded eyes on his lips. His mouth felt bruised and neglected when they drifted away. "No one ever told me that before," he said, trying to smile. The girl was suddenly close to him, too close.

"It's true," Pat insisted softly. She let her eyes return to his mouth and stay there. "I like your mouth. It's… sexy…"

Karen balanced Al's coffee cup in one hand, held the steaming coffeepot in the other, and juggled a platter of coffee cake she had made earlier and forgotten to serve, in the crook of her arm. She walked into the room slowly, her eyes nervously focused on the precariously balanced cake plate.

Allen got to his feet quickly when Karen entered the room. "Hey, let me give you a hand, honey," he mumbled, going to his wife and taking the platter from her arm. He placed the cake on the coffee table in front of Pat, then sat down next to the girl.

Karen poured fresh coffee for herself and Pat, gave Al his cup, and sat down on a straight-backed chair facing her husband and Pat.

Pat kept the conversation on a light, amusing level. She avoided Allen's hesitant questions about her occupation. She thought of her plan while she spoke, wishing she could rush things. She wanted to skip the game for once. Pat wanted to take Karen to bed and bring her to life the way she guessed Allen never had. She looked at the young man, wondering whether or not she would actually have to sleep with him. He didn't appeal to her any more than most men did. Rather less than some men, she thought. His body was lacking in the muscular quality she admired. Allen could never control her body, force her buttocks into a mattress, excite her as he dug steely fingers into her soft skin. Still, his very weakness might be exciting. She could control him, she decided. She visualized Allen under her, his lean body punished by her teeth and bruising hands.

Karen was the first to become aware of the time. It didn't seem possible! Allen had never before stayed up to talk until three o'clock! "Oh, Al! You've got to get some sleep if you want to get up in time for work tomorrow."

Pat pretended to deliberate the invitation. "Well…" she thought of spending the night in this house, near Karen. She thought of waking Karen in the morning, after Allen had left for work. "If you want me," she said gravely to the pretty blonde.

"I want you," Karen answered, just as gravely.

Allen took a last look at the sultry gin who would be sleeping only yards from his bed. "Need any help with the bed, girls?" He yawned sleepily, wishing that there were some way he could put himself to bed with the dark girl.

Pat was amused at this display of smug maleness. She was sure she was stronger than Allen. "I'm sure we can manage. You go to bed. I'm sorry I kept you up so late."

"It was a pleasure," he answered. This girl made him feel more like a man by a word, than his wife ever did in bed.

After Allen went to the bathroom Pat and Karen set about opening the bed-couch. When it was opened Karen excused herself to get some linens. Pat noted the snowy color of the sheets.

"It's nice to know I'm getting such a good housekeeper. My apartment is always such a mess." Pat grinned at the girl.

Karen looked startled, and her pretty face took on the color of cooked beets.

"Don't get upset, baby," Pat whispered, moving close to the girl. "It has to work out that way, you know. Try to get used to the idea."

Karen opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned around, hiding her face in her hands.

Pat looked at Karen's small back. The girl looked so small, so young and fragile. Pat gave in to a moment of regret. She had no business here! What was she doing to this girl? Hadn't she done the same thing enough times in the past to satisfy her ego? She was about to break up Karen's marriage. For what? What could I give her? she asked herself. "How do you feel?" Pat put a hand lightly on Karen's shoulder.

"How do you think I feel?" Karen whispered fiercely.

Pat saw the lovely huge breasts in profile. She imagined removing the plain-blue blouse, unhooking the restraining bra, and cupping the hot breasts with her hands. Pat took a deep breath and relaxed a gain. What was she thinking? What would she be taking Karen away from? She looked around the room. This dump? She looked toward the bathroom. That clod with an extra length of flesh instead of a brain? This idiot's existence? Pat smiled softly. She would be saving the girl from pure mediocrity. Whatever she gave Karen it would be better, more soulful, more enlightening than what she had. No matter what happened later on. "Karen…"