Ina Ceste - Ever-Lusting Wife

Elizabeth was excited, and it was more than simply because the children had arrived and were settled In, more or less. She hadn't thought they would be so beautiful, hadn't even imagined the word could be applied to boys, but it was the only one that fit. The girl was utterly lovely, and her brothers were beautiful.

They were sitting around in the spare bedrooms upright now, making sounds in a big house that had been silent far too long, and she was here In the kitchen, putting together a lunch for them that was probably too fancy, and one she might make a mess of, but it was the maid's day off. She could be grateful for one thing – her husband wasn't home, either; she'd gone through enough uproar with Sherman about bringing in the foster children, and thought he'd make them feel uncomfortable at first, if not permanently.

But if Sherman still had his hackles up, she would simply face him down about that woman he was keeping, the mistress she had never seen – and hoped never to see. It was only his guilt about that shameless association that had made him finally give in about the kids. Elizabeth knew it and he knew it, but of course, it had never been brought out into the open. She and her husband never brought out anything, but skirted around the edges, always carefully polite to each other – and always distant

She fluttered about the kitchen, anxious to make the children feel at home, eager to have them be friends, at least. Elizabeth had been jittery ever since the welfare worker called and said he was bringing them out.

You're doing a fine thing, Mrs. Anderson, the man said; few people will take a teenager into their home these days. They all want cute and cuddly little ones, and for you to accept three…

They're a family, she said, brothers and a sister; it wouldn't be right to break them up. And she didn't tell him she was doing it more for herself than for the kids, that she had just gotten so damned lonely she couldn't stand it any more.

Now the children were in her home, and she was excited. Was it because of the way the older boy had looked at her, as if he was appraising the good body she kept hidden beneath a usually shapeless dress? Jody had a somehow adult look about his eyes, a penetrating and too – wise quality beyond his years, but surely, the boy couldn't have actually been leering at her. It was all in her mind, because of what her husband was doing lately, having sex with some – some kind of prostitute. Elizabeth shook her head and continued preparations for lunch, but she couldn't quite erase that first image of Jody Goodall as he'd stood just inside the front door.

The child's eyes had seemed to reach right through her dress and caress her breasts, to go sliding down across her tummy and to linger overlong at the joining of her thighs. She'd known a strange warmth between her legs, a stirring that she Immediately denied, because she was certainly not that kind of woman, even if Jody wasn't only a boy.

Setting out the salads, Elizabeth felt an unfamiliar sensitivity in her breast tips, even though she wore a heavy bra. Just the newness of having someone in her home, she told herself, or perhaps she was overly stimulated because she'd forced her husband into something, for once.

Certainly It couldn't be a sexual arousal; Elizabeth had never known what that was like, and didn't really care to. There at the first, when she was a frightened bride, maybe she had hoped there might be more to It than just a wifely duty, despite what she had always been told. But there wasn't anything more, only the pain and disgust, only the realization that mama had been right, and men were no more than animals. Elizabeth had been glad when her husband finally accepted the fact that she was a good woman, and moved into his own bedroom. Now, at thirty – five years of age, she couldn't possibly be feeling something inherently evil, and not because of a child she meant to accept her as his own mother.

Elizabeth didn't remember If the younger boy had stared at her in anything near the same way, or If the girl had noticed her confusion. She had only been conscious of that alien flush of warmth In her lower tummy, and the sudden straining of her nipples against the confining bra when Jody's eyes lingered upon her body.

She heard them coming down the stairs and hurried to get everything just right upon the table, straightening to brush back her hair. Jody led them into the room, the natural leader at sixteen; Timothy was a year younger, and their sister only fourteen. Elizabeth knew she'd have to do something about their clothes, get them out of those shabby jeans and teeshirts and into something respectable. Her face went all warm again, and she wondered why the thought of getting them out of their clothing should embarrass her.

"I – I hope you all like hamburgers," she said. "There's a salad and milk and some pudding later. When the maid returns tomorrow, there'll be a more proper meal."

"Looks great," Jody said, and the others sat down silently to begin wolfing food as if they were starved. The older boy ate more slowly, and his eyes made Elizabeth fidget as she had a cup of coffee for herself. Must he stare so at her? Somehow, he made her feel as if she was undressed, and she'd seldom even allowed her husband to see her totally nude. It was indecent.

They weren't much for conversation, and she put that down to the newness, to their trying to get adjusted to a different environment. The poor kids hadn't ever had a real home life, according to the social worker. She chattered a little, and looked them over again, trying not to catch Jody's probing eyes. That boy was truly beautiful, all that long bronze hair and blue eyes; his brother was more slim, shorter, a pale blond with eyes about the same shade. Charlene was striking, a stunning redhead with vagrant streaks of gold in her hair, lean almost to the point of being thin, but seeming lithe and supple, with an aura of something smoldering beneath a quiet exterior, a disquieting radiance.

But Jody kept pulling Elizabeth's attention as he ate, and she couldn't help looking at his slender body, the narrow hips and flat tummy, and the certain, casual way he moved. She thought that his jeans were much too tight, and gnawed her lower lip because she had been even, noticing the way they clung to his thighs, and that forbidden bulge.

"If you'd all like to shower," she said as they finished the dessert, "fresh towels and soap are ready."

"We're not dirty," Charlene said softly, startling Elizabeth by the husky quality of her voice, but Jody cut in and said, "Sure; we should all freshen up. I saw bathrooms all over the place; do we use any special one?"

"There's one for each bedroom," Elizabeth answered. "My husband's room is at the end of the hall, and mine is near the stairs; the rest are yours. And if there's anything you need, anything at all – "

Jody smiled, showing her even, white teeth, and his eyes seemed smoky. "Anything I need, I guess I can get for myself – but thanks, anyhow."

The others trooped after him, and Elizabeth stared. It would take some getting used to, she thought, and found herself following the swing of the boy's hips as he climbed the carpeted stairs. She looked away quickly and began to gather the dishes. As she put them into the washer, Elizabeth felt her breasts surging against the confinement of the bra, and an uncomfortable tingle in her loins. Shaking off the sensations, she busied herself about the kitchen, tidying up.

She would have to have a talk with them, she thought, let her new children know that this was to be their home, that she'd try to be a mother to them, and what she might expect in return. But no prisonlike rules, Elizabeth decided; no rigid discipline; the poor kids had already had enough of that. Hesitantly, she climbed the stairs, deciding that they'd had time enough to get clean and hoping they'd changed from the disreputable jeans – If they had a change.