Anonymous - Spouse Swap

Bruce continued to play the teasing game by hesitating and drawling, "I can't, I'm over the hill, remember?"

Trish cupped his perspiring scrotum in her right hand and applied pressure. She forced a calmness she did not feel into her voice as she said with quiet menace, "One more stall and I'll turn you into a gelding."

"You wouldn't dare!"

She smiled malevolently. "Don't tempt me, you horny bastard. I've wondered many a time during these past few weeks we've been shacking up together how you'd sound as a soprano."

Bruce brayed a laugh. Then he came to a kneeling position between Trish's yawning legs and palmed her now twitching hips. Breath hissed out of his throat as he prepared to insert his whang into her cunthole, but a moment later he sucked air back as a car horn shattered the morning silence and echoed through the nine rooms that made up the headquarters of his Walking C Ranch.

Mild annoyance traced its pattern across Bruce's face as he looked down at Trish and asked, "Were you expecting company this morning?"

Trish released the grip she had on his shaft and moved her head against the pillow. A derisive smile curved her lips. "I'm not that friendly with the natives in this neck of the woods. Exchanging recipes isn't my bag."

Bruce's cock remained hard as he climbed out of bed and crossed over to the window that overlooked the ranch yard. He took his look and spoke without turning, "I'll be go to hell. It's Felix Wellman!"

Trish's full-blown breasts trembled as she bounced out of the rumpled bed and reached for a white terrycloth robe hanging from the open closet door. A frown wrinkled her brow as she wondered what had brought the normally trip-lazy attorney all the way out from Lone Pines so early in the day.

Bruce was wondering the same thing as he located his pants and stepped into them, for momentarily he grumbled, "Sit tight and stay hot; I'll see what the ambulance chaser wants."

Trish laughed suddenly and pointed a slender, red-tipped finger at his erection. "You can't go out like that, lover. Why don't you run some cold water over that big cock of yours and soften it while I admit our unwelcome caller?"

Bruce grimaced. "Water won't help. I'm so hard it will take a meat mallet to make me limp."

"Want me to fetch you one from the kitchen?"

"You're a cruel bitch!"

Cruel? Trish thought as she belted the robe into place and sailed out of the bedroom. You'll never know how right you are!

Knuckles rattled the front door as she reached the bottom of the stairs, and she called out irritably, "Don't break the damned thing down. I'm coming!"

Felix Wellman was getting ready to use his knuckles for the second time when Trish unlocked and opened the door. Irritation mounted at the sight of him. The big, balding attorney whose face resembled an amateur sculptor's first failure with silly putty was sweating like a butcher on a busy day, but it didn't keep him from attempting to devour her breasts with his hungry eyes before he complained, "A man could collapse from this damned heat before a door gets answered around here."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch."

Felix continued grousing as though she hadn't spoken. "Why in hell don't you talk Bruce into hiring a live-in maid?"

Trish's voice frosted as she stepped aside to let Felix enter. "Who can afford extra help? Christ, by the time he pays your legal fees out of that dole he gets from Uncle Sam for doing the soil bank thing, it's a scuffle for him to keep me in champagne and other goodies."

A cold smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe you should switch to beer."

Her voice tightened. "And maybe you should drop dead."

"Ouch!"

Trish laughed harshly and turned away. She felt Felix Wellman's hot eyes on her lazily swinging derriere as she led the way into the bar-sized living room. Aware of the attention he was paying her rippling haunches, she silently concluded that the lecherous attorney, who had recently attempted to seduce her during one of those outdoor bashes the locals called a barbecue, wasn't getting all the gash he wanted from his cow-faced wife. Or, for that matter, from the late Hank Lockridge's jailbait daughter. For a wild moment she was tempted to drive his libido farther up the wall by grinding her hips a bit faster, but she didn't. Fuck turning him on. Instead she motioned him toward the sofa and queried, "Can I fix you something cold to drink?" Felix sat down, shook his head. He stopped staring at her robe-covered breasts and became all business. "I didn't drive all the way out here just to get a free can of beer, Trish."

She studied him intently. Ice returned to her voice. "Why the hell did you come?"

"To see Bruce. Would you mind calling him?"

Before Trish could reply, Bruce made his presence known by saying, "Save your breath, hon. I'm here. What's the problem, Felix? Joe Dooley in jail again?"

Felix managed a thin smile. "Don't drop dead from shock, but our boy is keeping his nose clean these days. Actually, I'm here about someone else. Elke Lockridge. With her old man gone for nearly two months now and creditors starting to bug her, the kid is ready to climb a wall. Only first she has to find a wall. She got evicted from hers two days ago. I put her up at the hotel, but that's no place for the girl. Taking her into my house is out. You know Alma and that damn jealous streak of hers." He paused, then continued. "Elke needs a place to stretch out, and that's why I'm here. Think you can put her up in one of your extra rooms until Hank gets back?"

Trish felt a knot start forming in the pit of her stomach. The last thing she wanted or needed was an unwelcome guest on the premises, especially the late Hank Lockridge's daughter, but before she could get her tongue in gear, Bruce said, "No problem, Felix. Elke can move in and stay as long as she wants."

"It will only be until Hank gets back." That won't be until the day after forever, Trish thought, simultaneously damning Bruce for rolling out the welcome mat while aloud she said with forced cordiality, "We'll do our best to make her feel like one of the family."

"I'm sure of that," Felix said, his eyes again glued to the nearly exposed breasts that quivered behind Trish's yawning robe. "In fact, I'm counting on it. And now, I have one more favor to ask."

Bruce nodded. "Ask away."

Felix continued to ogle Trish's almost naked breasts, but his words were directed at Bruce. "Elke knows I came here to bum a room for her. She told me that if you went for the deal, she would like to move in tonight. There's only one hitch when it comes to getting her here. I'm leaving for Boise this afternoon."

Trish spoke up. "Why don't you ask Joe Dooley to bring her?"

Felix shook his head. "Joe's jeep is laid up for repairs. Worse, by tonight he'll probably be in no condition to walk, let alone drive." He locked glances Bruce. "Think you could pick her up?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure."

It may be your pleasure, Trish seethed inwardly, but it sure as shit isn't mine. Why couldn't Elke have waited until Gabe found the bag of bread her old man squirreled away before he dropped dead? Damn! As if we don't have troubles enough with that Dooley bastard prowling the hills to bug our asses!

Felix Wellman lurched to his feet with a labored sigh. "I'd better be getting back to town. Thanks again, Bruce."

"What are friends for? I'll show you to the door."

"Don't bother; I know the way out." Felix took a final look at Trish's exquisite breasts, licked his lips, then turned and wheezed his way outside.

Break a leg, you goddamn sheep fucker, Trish's mind shrilled after Felix Wellman. Better still, miss one of those hairpin curves on the way back to town and break your fucking neck!

Trish waited until she heard Felix drive off down the lane before she whirled to face Bruce, claws bared for battle. She started to read him off for inviting Elke Lockridge to the ranch, changed her mind. Her brain clicked with computerized precision as truth struck. This was not the time for her to get teed off over something already done. To do so would be stupid. Pissing him off might result in her own eviction. This she didn't want. Not yet. She shook her head. No, better to play it cool. She had this guy wrapped around her finger, and until she and Gabe found the missing loot, she wanted to keep the prick there. Anger sagged. A happy man was not a threat to her or Gabe, and with this in mind she forced a semblance of that enigmatic thing called joy into her voice and said, "It will be nice to have someone around I can make girl-talk with again, lover."