Simon Jillson - Driven To Depravity

By the time she reached the Shein house, Judy's stomach was growling from hunger in spite of her nagging worries. She was halfway to the front door when it opened. Paula Shein stood there waiting for her.

"You're very prompt," Mrs. Shein commented as she shook Judy's hand.

Judy noted that the woman's grip was strong and firm – and that the handshake lasted a little too long.

"Mark, my husband, drummed that into me before we were married," Judy replied. She studied Mrs. Shein carefully.

Judy decided that if you put the Sheins back to back, their heights would differ by less than half an inch. In her bare feet, the woman would be about five six. And she was built – like a brick outhouse was the way Mark would have put it. She was wearing an expensive black velvet halter that covered, but didn't really support her full breasts, and a floor-length skirt that hung low on her hips. An incredible expanse of extraordinarily trim and well-tanned midriff was exposed.

The woman's full hips swayed sensuously and very gracefully as she led the way into the living room.

"Would you care for a drink, Mrs. Penncroft?"

Judy met the woman's cool gray eyes, and wondered how much it cost to get the kind of streaking that highlighted Mrs. Shein's sleek blonde hair. "I don't believe so, thank you. I've gotten out of the habit, since Mark isn't permitted to."

"Ah yes, his illness," Mrs. Shein said coolly. "So tragic a thing to happen to a young man. I was shocked when Steven told me of it."

"We – keep our hopes up," Judy replied.

"Perhaps some wine with lunch," Mrs. Shein suggested, shifting the subject gracefully.

"That would be very nice," Judy agreed.

"Come on, I'm ravenous. I only have coffee for breakfast, and by noon I'm always ferociously hungry." She led the way out to the pool deck where a table was set in the shade.

"Your husband isn't here?" Judy commented. "I thought he was getting back this morning?"

"Oh, he was in and out very early. He is a very busy man. Sometimes we hardly get to see each other."

"Mark and I wouldn't like that at all," Judy commented. The tall elegant woman made her feel clumsy, graceless, and totally unsophisticated. Judy sought refuge in the glass of crisp, chill white wine.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Judy ventured as she began eating.

"That can wait until after lunch," Mrs. Shein replied smoothly. "Tell me, how did you come to go into real estate? You know, Steven has many holdings – office buildings and such."

Judy related her search for money and the conversation drifted aimlessly until the plates were clean and the last of the wine was in Judy's glass. By then she was feeling loose and giddy. She decided it had been a mistake to have so much wine on top of her exhaustion and an empty stomach. She saw Mrs. Shein drain her glass and decided it would be rude not to do the same.

Mrs. Shein pushed her chair out. "Come with me. I have something I'd like to show you."

Judy followed, puzzled. They crossed the deck to the doors to the master bedroom. Mrs. Shein slid them open and stood aside. Judy stepped into the cool darkness and took off her dark glasses. She heard the door being slid closed behind her. Paula Shein went over to the huge bed.

"Look at this," she instructed calmly, indicating the bedspread with a wave of her hand.

The stain! Judy felt faint as she tottered over to the bed. Dear God, there, right in the middle of the bed was a white, crusty stain. Judy suddenly remembered the nagging worry she had been trying to pin down.

"Oh, how terrible," Judy stammered, "that beautiful bedspread." Mrs.

Shein couldn't know how it got there, Judy was thinking frantically.

The only thing to do was to brazen it out. She felt the tall woman watching her, and wanted to meet those cool, appraising gray eyes, but couldn't.

"It's washable," Mrs. Shein finally commented placidly. "But I must say, Mrs. Penncroft, I would be most interested in seeing a sample of your sales pitch."

Judy fought a wave of giddiness and terror as the blood drained from her face. "I d-don't know what you mean?" she croaked.

"Nonsense," the other woman replied calmly. "There is no one else who could have done it. It was there when I came home last night. It was still damp."

"Your husband," Judy suggested stupidly, desperately, and then instantly regretted it.

"Impossible," Mrs. Shein said calmly, taking no offense. "Steven was in Topeka yesterday. Granted, he may have left a stain there, but he wasn't responsible for the one here."

Judy's legs were shaking and she wished she could sit down. But she didn't dare.

"Now of course," Mrs. Shein went on in the same reasonable tone, "I am quite certain that it couldn't have been me. So, who does that leave?

It could only be you. You were here yesterday afternoon with a client.

Correct?"

Judy nodded numbly. "What are you going to do?" she asked fearfully, finally looking at Paula Stein.

"Do? Why should I do anything?" Mrs. Shein replied. "As I said, the spread is washable."

"I'm-I'm terribly, terribly sorry," Judy apologized abjectly. Was this why Mrs. Shein had summoned her? Just so she could rub Judy's nose in her mess like a naughty puppy?

Mrs. Shein folded her arms under her breasts and studied Judy.

Something in her gray eyes made Judy feel naked. "However, there is another problem."

"Oh?"

"You're aware that this house is jointly owned, are you not?" Mrs.

Shein asked.

"Why, I guess so," Judy admitted. "I mean, I assumed that it was."

"It is. And naturally, that means that it cannot be sold without my approval, too," Mrs. Shein went on.

"Naturally," Judy agreed, feeling a new fear begin gnawing at her.

Paula Shein nibbled delicately on one well-manicured fingernail, then inspected it thoughtfully. She spoke with careful deliberation, "I am not really certain that I want this house to be sold."

Judy shivered.

"It really is a very pleasant house," Mrs. Shein went on. "It is roomy and comfortable, and I like the swimming pool. Oh, I suppose it is a little large for just the two of us, but we can afford it, so why not?"

Judy listened, her heart sinking. Steven Shein had been wrong when he had told her his wife would be no problem. What could Judy do?

"But the stain on the bed got me to thinking," Mrs. Shein went on.

"Perhaps there is some way you could convince me to agree to sell this house."

"What?" Judy croaked.

Paula Shein advanced on Judy. Her steady gaze held Judy riveted in place. "That cute little gymnastics-trained body of yours must know some very interesting moves," the taller woman mused. She began unbuttoning Judy's blouse.

Judy was too flabbergasted to do more than gape. Then she made a feeble attempt to pull herself together and brush away Paula's hands, but failed. "But-but, you're married," Judy spluttered. "You can't be..

." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Queer? Gay? Lesbian?" Paula Shein finished for her. "No, not really, or rather, not strictly. My, those are pretty little breasts," she sighed. "Those cute, pink little nipples are so eager and alert."

Judy shivered. Paula Shein was teasing her nipples, and they liked it!

Their reaction astonished and dismayed Judy. She flapped her arms loosely.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty," Paula Shein crooned softly, pinching Judy's delicate pink nipples, rolling them between her long, graceful fingers, tugging them outward to stretch Judy's small breasts provocatively.

"I'm not a homosexual," Paula explained. "I am a bisexual. Put crudely, I swing both ways."

"But Steven," Judy blurted out, trying desperately to fight the tremors of lust that were shaking her.

"Steven knows all about it," Mrs. Shein answered easily. "As a matter of fact, he finds it rather enjoyable. Sometimes I bring my girl friends home and we have some truly interesting variations."