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"Enough soda?"

"Yes," Kelly said. "It's perfect, John ..." She felt a little ill at ease at calling this handsome and distinguished man by his first name when she knew him so slightly. But the idea that she would soon go to bed with him amused her and she smiled again, her eyes crinkling up, her perfect nose wrinkling slightly. "John," she repeated, staring at him almost insolently for a moment, then dropping her eyes demurely.

"Kelly," he murmured, letting his eyes rove over her. She was exquisite, he thought. Absolutely exquisite. Her figure was perfect, her breasts high and firm, her waist slender, tiny, her hips flaring. She turned and crossed the room to take a canape from the silver tray on the bar.

Whitmore stared, his mouth suddenly dry, He licked his lips, breathing heavily. God; he'd never seen anyone so graceful, never seen anyone so sensuous and yet so unobtrusive about it. She was just what the doctor ordered, he told himself passionately, just what he'd been waiting for all these years. And now he'd found her. Why wait any longer? There was no reason to, he thought, stepping forward, taking her glass from her and setting it down on the top of the bar.

Kelly looked surprised and opened her mouth as if to protest, but suddenly John flicked his head forward, fastening his mouth on her warm moist lips. She recoiled involuntarily, and then relaxed, letting him press his loins up against her pelvis, parting her lips willingly as his tongue darted out to probe at them, then press between them.

It found hers and swirled around it, then shot forward deep into her throat until Kelly was afraid he would choke her. She struggled briefly against him, gasping for breath. And then when she caught it she relaxed, feeling the little darts of pleasure shoot deep into her as John crushed her to him, mashing her firm little pointed breasts, the nipples hard as diamonds, against his chest.

Kelly felt a tingling in her pussy, the beginning of a moistness there that she could hardly comprehend. She wished desperately that it would go away and then knew that only John could make that happen; at the same time she knew that she wanted just that ... that she wanted to submit to him completely as she had never wanted to submit to her own husband ... she felt his fingers pressing into the soft white flesh of her shoulders, felt his hands as they slipped beneath the neckline of her dress, then down to the ripe mounds of her breasts.

He slid them gently beneath the sheer fabric of her brassiere and then he began to stroke her soft skin; Gently, tenderly, but relentlessly too he went on, until the tingling between Kelly's legs grew and spread throughout her quaking young loins.

She pressed her soft white thighs together in a desperate effort to quell the agonizing quivering there, the little flames that seemed to lick at her most secret parts, then to set on fire even her narrow cuntal passage. The flames of desire spread through her helpless flesh, and she mewled with pleasure as the pressure of John's fingers against her softly ripe breasts increased, as he cupped them now, kneading them until new bolts of excitement seemed to set off tiny explosions in her blood.

He took her tiny budding nipples between his thumbs and forefingers now, rolling them with teasing and tantalizing motions that made her gasp almost breathlessly. She seemed to come alive beneath his touch, she thought with wonder, to spring into a quivering ecstasy, to respond as she never had with her own husband!

She gave a little sigh, almost inaudible, in regret for all those lost years when she had been as unfeeling as a marble statue, all those years during which she had waited for just such a moment as this. An unwanted chill spread through her, heightening the fires that burned within her, then suddenly she tilted her face up to John's again.

He bent down to whisper in her shell-like ear, "My God, but you're lovely," and his very words excited her further. She was trembling uncontrollably now, wishing desperately that he would slip her dress off, unfasten the hooks at the back of her bra and release her throbbing breasts.

"Oh, John," she murmured, her voice small and quivering. "Oh, my God!"

"Kelly, let's go into the guest room. Would you like that?"

"Yes," she whispered, nodding. "Oh, yes!" She glanced up at him, her eyes bright as twinkling stars now.

John led the way from the library and down the hall with Kelly following willingly, her heart flailing against her ribs. It seemed so wicked to her in so many ways. She was being unfaithful to Tom after all, no matter what fact was put upon the adulterous act she would soon commit, and yet it seemed right, somehow. John Whitmore was such a fine person, such a gentleman, how could he possibly do anything wrong? Or ask her to do anything wrong? It just wasn't possible, she thought, anymore than it would have been possible for her father to do so.

John opened a door far down the hall and Kelly peered in at the twin beds covered with silk bedspreads, at the matching draperies, the thick carpet. The furniture was graceful, the other furnishings in the best possible taste. Kelly relaxed, whatever qualms she had had earlier now stilled. She felt at home here, in a way she had never felt in her own small house. And again, she felt her blood raging, rampaging through her veins.

She went in as he held the door for her and looked around. He quickly followed her, closing the door softly but definitely behind them. And then once again he moved close to Kelly, pressing his loins up against hers ... she felt the bulge there beneath his trousers now and shivered a little as-the full realization of what she was about to do, all the implications of this act, reached her. And yet she brushed away all doubts, all fears. There would be no humiliation with this man as there had been with her own husband, merely because John would have none of the sense of inferiority she knew that Tom had in relation to her. There would be none of that and their lovemaking would be beautiful and fulfilling, just the way it was described in some of the psychology books, those that dealt primarily with the psychology of sex, that she had been reading recently.

She shivered again in anticipation, feeling a little weak with the erotic joy of the moment, while the nearness of John fanned the flames that seemed to burn within her, consuming her loins like brushwood in a forest fire. "Oh, God," she moaned, and then felt his hands go behind her to fumble with the zipper at the back of her dress.

He drew it down slowly in a thrilling, tantalizing motion that sent little feathers of delight tripping across her trembling skin, teasing her until it seemed that every nerve end responded. She felt the cool air of the room waft across her and sucked in her breath with the pleasurable shock. And then he eased his fingers beneath the narrow shoulders, the tiny cap sleeves to slide the dress down her slender white arms.

It fell to her hips and John ran his hands slowly down the flat plane of her belly to the small folds of fabric there, then smoothed it down over her quivering thighs, her softly undulating buttocks.

She stared at him, her eyes wide in her lovely face, her blonde hair hanging angelically about her shoulders, and waited. Oh, God! He was so gentle with her so ... so ... she searched for the word. So considerate, she thought, remembering the rough way in which her husband so often took her.

Tom had fucked her, she thought disconsolately, remembering the obscenity he so often used and which she still heard with a slight shock. He had fucked her, but John would make love to her, the way ladies and gentlemen did, the way people of her own background, did. It was what she would expect of a man who lived in a house like this, and her eyes suddenly darted around the room, taking in all the small luxurious details which she had overlooked before. It was what her father and mother had done and not the terrible and shocking carnal act that she and her husband performed together.

She had thought that she and Tom could be happy together, had thought she could escape the stuffiness of her own family background with a man like him. He was rough, like an uncut gem. But she had scratched the surface and found, she thought, the wonderful qualities beneath the crude exterior. She had thought they would be enough, and she had been mistaken. But such a thing would never happen with John Whitmore.

Kelly stood before him now, trembling slightly still, in her little white brassiere, her little white panties. An electric current seemed to flow from one to the other, making them both glow with a heightened sensuality. And then John moved closer to her again, running his hands lightly along her soft white throat, down over her lovely shoulders, teasing quickly, expertly at her throbbing breasts still encased in the little white bra.

Once again his hands moved behind her and now he fumbled momentarily with the hooks that fastened the bit of lace and elastic.

Suddenly they gave, and her lovely breasts were freed from all constriction.

With a quick deft movement, he pulled the small brassiere completely away from her body and let that fall to the floor too, on top of Kelly's dress. In a sudden moment of girlish modesty, she covered her throbbing breasts with her hands and a faint flush suffused her cheeks. And then, as quickly and easily as he had removed her brassiere, John pushed them away so that her breasts were fully exposed to him in all their lush ripeness.

He flicked his head forward then to fasten his mouth over one small quivering nipple bud, swirling his tongue delicately around it, laying it into a taut little erection. Kelly tensed at the first contact, then relaxed, sighing happily. He began to suck on the quivering tip now while Kelly, quickly becoming accustomed to this new excitement, moaned ecstatically.

Little flickers of fire seemed to sputter up and down her spine, spreading through her limbs again. They seemed to go weak as she responded to the now maddening tongue laying, and when John's hands caressed her body urgently, his fingers like small flames trailing across her skin to leave burning embers in their wake, she made no effort to resist.

With her eyes closed, she floated off into a world of pleasure she had never known before. A fleeting memory came back to her of the terrible night when Tom had forced her to perform the shocking perversion with him, when he had sunk the bloated rod of his penis deep into her mouth and made her suck on it until he came. But John, she, was certain, would never hurt her in that way. He would be "considerate", she thought again. Then, she realized now that he had slipped his hands beneath the elastic waistband of her little white panties, that his fingers were gently stroking the white flesh of her soft-skinned belly.

Once again she shuddered with sheer delight while little fingers of joy touched her as gently as little cat feet, and then there was a delirious moment when his fingers slipped down to the tiny vee of golden pubic hair between her thighs, then on to run the length of the hair-lined slit there, pausing for the briefest of moments to tease at the tiny bud of her clitoris, sending new and even more ecstatic waves of pleasure through her!

She was still in a state of stunned euphoria when he slipped the panties down over her thighs, then helped her to step out of them. And then he led her across the room to one of the beds. As quickly as he had undressed her, as skillfully, he had pulled back the bedspread and turned down the covers. And then he eased Kelly onto the linen sheet that covered the mattress.

As she lay there, her eyes still closed, there was a soft and strange sound in the room. When her eyes fluttered open she saw that John was undressing hurriedly, unbuckling his belt, pulling off his trousers, his undershirt, his shorts. And then she saw that his huge cock was erect, throbbing, ready. She moaned slightly, then closed her eyes again and lay still, waiting.

She felt the slight shift of the bed, the almost imperceptible groaning of the springs as John settled himself on it, above the young woman's nakedly palpitating body. He thrust his head forward and whispered, "Spread your legs, Kelly. I want to see you."

A shudder of forbidden joy spread through her and she did as she was told. She waited again, waited for the moment when his huge lust-swollen cock would brush against the soft curly hair of her yearning pussy.

And then she opened her eyes and saw that his head had dropped forward and now his tongue flicked out to probe hotly at the quivering pink lips of her vagina.

Another sudden shudder swept through her, but it was of horror now-sheer horror at the idea that John Whitmore could demand that she submit to him in this way. Oh, God! It was almost as bad as what Tom had demanded of her the other night, and for a moment she was afraid that she would burst into tears, weeping uncontrollably. She bit her lips, holding back her sobs, then ground her hips deep into the mattress, trying desperately to escape his sinuously worming tongue. Oh, dear God! She had never expected anything like this! From Tom, yes. But not from John Whitmore!

Once again a repressed sob shook her body as the handsome man's snaking tongue licked lewdly at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, then moved upward to lap at the tiny bud of her clitoris. Oh, God, Kelly thought, on the verge now of hysteria. This couldn't be possible! It just couldn't be! What was he doing to her? But the lewd licking of her pulsating cunt went on and then John's tongue sank deep up into her moist cuntal passage.

In spite of her dismay little showers of excitement like bursting fireworks exploded in her blood, making her moan with involuntary pleasure. Oh, no, she thought! This was wrong! This was wicked!

John's perverted act was as evil as anything Tom had ever done to her and yet she knew-to her everlasting disgrace-that she was beginning to enjoy it, to respond to the thrilling tongue fucking to which she was being subjected!

She closed her eyes again and a salty tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away angrily with the back of her hand. "Stop, John," she suddenly begged him. And then she knew that was the last thing she wanted.

To her relief he went on, sinking his tongue deep up between the soft flesh lips of her moistly throbbing cunt while she continued to moan mindlessly. And then he slipped his hands under her quivering buttocks, cupping the soft skin then squeezing them in his palms while his tongue continued to lash out, slithering deep up between the wet and clasping walls of her vagina.

As Kelly relaxed beneath John's wild assault against her defenselessly quivering pussy, a sudden thought floated across the blankness of her mind like a single cloud across a soft blue sky. It was all right, everything was all right! This was John Whitmore hovering above her, flicking his tongue up against her throbbing clitoris, sending waves of unwanted pleasure breaking over her until she was almost submerged in them.

It was all right! Somehow nothing John could do could be depraved or vile. Never! Now little mewls of pleasure escaped unbidden from her lips to encourage him, to spur on his lashing tongue. Her body was wracked with a new and wondrous delight, one she had never dreamed possible, as he continued to suck hotly at her pussy.

Her throbbing cunt was drenched now with the warm moisture that seeped down onto her open thighs and dampened her soft pubic hair. She tensed her body, holding it taut, immobile for a long moment. And then, with a wild cry of pleasure, she began to move beneath John's punishing tongue, thrusting her hips up, twisting her loins, sinking back deep into the mattress.

Hovering above her, his head burrowing deep between Kelly's thighs, John Whitmore had a sudden sense of power over the lovely woman, a knowledge of his own personal triumph. To give erotic pleasure to his wife was common place-and he had an uneasy knowledge that he was only one of many who had, one of many who still would. But Kelly was an exclusive as far as he was concerned, like a custom-tailored suit, whereas Penny was merely one off the rack!

John grinned inwardly at the mental image and renewed his efforts, urged on by Kelly's whimpers and muffled cries. Jesus! He was bringing this statue to life, turning her from marble into a creature of quivering flesh and burning blood. And she in turn was sending him off on an ego trip, the likes of which he had never known!

He licked again at the rosy little bud of her clitoris, swirling his tongue around and around it, withdrawing briefly to snake it deep into the warm narrow walls of her cuntal channel. Her moans were music to his ears, her wails an inspiration.

And then he felt her tense again, fluttering for a moment on the edge of her ecstasy. Her hands shot out, her fingers entwining his hair as she pulled his head deeper and deeper into her own nakedly quivering loins. And then at last .her moment came and she cried out, unbelieving, "Oh, my God! I'm cumming ... I'm cumming ..."

Her body contracted in another convulsive spasm and then another as the full ecstasy of her climax took possession of her. An enormous shudder shook her lovely body, a ripple ran through her that was almost visible. She quaked beneath John, caught up in her own wild abandon in an instant that went beyond time.

Satiated at last, she fell back against the bed, her voluptuous body relaxed now, drained and exhausted. A sense of the most complete fulfillment she had ever known engulfed her and she closed her eyes, still breathing heavily. At last she slid off into a sleep of deep contentment while John Whitmore slithered up her body, flicking his tongue out one final time, but now to lave the small buds of her nipples ...