Neil Forit - Lust Takes A Holiday

Dinah's breasts heaved high, the way they did when Fred would run his warm tongue over them, or when his fingers would tingle on her supersensitive inner thighs. But at the moment, the lovely breasts were heaving out of anger, not out of that cream of passion.

Even so, the nipples stood erect. She never seemed to be able to control that, no matter what the emotion.

"Fred, I wish you wouldn't be so stubborn. You know we need money!"

Striding across the living room, Dinah tossed her mane of luxurious red hair over her shoulder and continued the argument with her husband. For three days now she hadn't gotten anywhere with him but was determined not to give up.

"I'm tired of staying home all day and trying to balance the budget.

What if something happens? What if I get pregnant? Your research grant isn't going to take care of that. We have hardly enough to live on as it is."

Fred gave her a wry smile and leaned back in his easy chair, shuffling the newspaper on his knees as he attempted to turn the page. In truth, he actually enjoyed it when she got angry. Her fiery words seemed to match the color of her red hair, and she looked extremely sexy when her hackles were up. Her green eyes flashed like emeralds, her generous breasts heaved under the tight sweater she was wearing and looked as though they would almost burst through the confines. She had a good mind, it was true, but with a voluptuous body like hers, she was hard to take seriously. It was all he could do to keep himself from jumping up and stripping her clothes off, much less pay any attention to her familiar tirade.

He gazed appreciatively at her seductive form, his eyes taking in her lushly ripened breasts with their taut little nipples straining against the thin-knit sweater. She had taken to not wearing a brassiere in an effort to be with the current fashions, and her sensuality was more disconcerting than ever. The sweater clung like a tight-fitting glove to her flesh, displaying her flat abdomen, then tapering down to her slender waist. Her neatly flaring hips and smoothly rounded buttocks were equally well-encased in her tight, daringly short mini-skirt. My God, he thought, she doesn't even realize how sexy she is! She's driving me crazy. Her legs were long and slender, suntanned already, even though it was only early spring, and his gaze had drifted down to concentrate on them.

"Fred, you're not even listening to me," she protested, throwing her hands up in despair. Her piercing tone got through to him finally, making him look up at her face.

"Sweetheart, I've been listening to you for days, and you haven't changed the subject once. I don't want you to take that job at the research center, and that's that. Look, we both had a long hard haul getting me through school, but now that I've got the research grant, I don't want you working anymore. I would think you'd appreciate that.

Now come on, why don't we go to the bedroom for a while and calm ourselves down?"

Dinah sighed in exasperation at her husband's sweet tone of voice, knowing exactly what it meant. It meant you're just a sweet cuddly thing with no brains in your body. Your place is in the home. Before their marriage she'd actually enjoyed it when he coddled her, but now it was getting on her nerves. After all, hadn't she gotten a job right after college to support his studies in graduate school? Hadn't she sacrificed her own promising career as a biologist so that he could continue his? It wasn't fair to be treated like an idiot after all she'd done for him. And the irony of it was, he hadn't complained once when she'd worked before. It was only when the research grant had come through that he suddenly showed his true colors as a male chauvinist who wanted to protect and coddle her.

The sudden change in his attitude surprised and upset her. He didn't seem to understand what it was like being cooped up in this small house miles from town and miles from anyone they knew. This deserted stretch of North Carolina Tidewater was a completely alien culture to her; and even the town, Bay Bridge, had little to offer-one movie house, a bowling alley, and a lot of broken down pickup trucks lining the street. At least Fred had his work, and he was earning money, while at the same time collecting data for his PhD thesis. And what was she?

Nothing but a fixture like a beautiful piece of furniture.

What really bothered her was that the Center's director, Ralph Tomley, had offered her an administrative job several days ago, but she hadn't mentioned a word of it to Fred, knowing how he felt about the matter.

True, it was a glorified secretarial position, but there just might be a chance to move into the marine research field, and maybe she could even do something that would bring her credits towards a Master's degree. She'd told him she would hold back her decision until she'd talked with Fred, but now she decided to take matters into her own hands no matter how much her husband objected. She was sick of the way he was treating her.

"All right," she said finally. "I didn't tell you this before, but Dr.

Tomley already offered me a job. And I've decided I'm going to accept whether you like it or not."

Fred suddenly sat forward in his chair.

"Hey, wait a minute, what is this?"

"I'm sorry, that's the way it's going to be. My mind's made up."

In a huff she walked out of the living room as if to end the conversation then and there, leaving Fred in a mild state of shock.

But what could he do? he asked himself. Ralph Tomley must have cornered her at that welcoming cocktail party at his house and offered her the job on the spot. And there certainly was no refusing Tomley. He ruled the Benton Research Center with an iron hand and made no qualms about being blunt and unpleasant when things didn't go his way. Fred tried to think of some diplomatic way for his wife to turn down the offer, but that would only make waves, since he knew that the director genuinely needed an administrative assistant to handle the paperwork. "Nuts," he said to himself. For once he wanted to really be the boss in the family and not have people think his wife was supporting him, but it hadn't worked out, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Nonetheless, he wished Dinah would be content with staying home and playing the role of a wife, which is what he would demand of her once he got his PhD and moved into the realms of scientific research with official credentials. If she kept on trying to assert herself the way she was now, there was eventually going to be trouble in their marriage.

In a moment though, she was back in the living room, approaching him with a meek look on her face.

"Fred, are you angry?" she asked, sitting on the arm of his chair. "I meant what I said about taking the job, but I didn't want to hurt you."

"Oh really? Well, actually, I wish you hadn't come on so strong. I don't particularly like Tomley, and I don't like the way he cornered you at that cocktail party. He's an old lecher, if you ask me."

Dinah smiled at his outburst, realizing that he was just blowing off steam. His male ego was at stake somehow, but he would get over it.

After all, what was she supposed to do-stay at home and play house all day while he went to work? She hadn't really meant to cause a rift in their relationship-it was just that she needed fulfillment just as much as he did. And the thought of somehow working into a position at the Center that would give her credits toward her Master's inspired her confidence.

"Come on, Fred," she whispered teasingly in his ear. "I thought we were both going to calm ourselves down." She began nibbling on his earlobe and stroking the back of his neck at the same time. "Let's go into the bedroom. We could both use some recreation."