Jill's eyes were closed. She was making little mewling sounds, with some ooohs and aaahs thrown in, but she was thinking about her grocery list. Barry was heavy on her, grunting, thrusting rhythmically. It wasn't that he was a bad lover, or an unattractive man. He was just - boring. Jill gave a squeal of ecstasy and arched her pelvis up to him, signaling that her fake orgasm was about to be completed. Barry moaned loudly in response and jerked into her before collapsing and rolling off her. He drew a hand across his forehead and sighed happily, "Baby, that was excellent." Jill said nothing, as she grabbed a tissue and wiped away the dribble of semen. At least it was over.

Barry was successful. At 32, he was an attorney on his way to partner in a prominent firm in the city. He kept long hours, leaving for his commute at 6:30 and not returning home many nights until after 9:00 . This gave Jill, a housewife with no children, plenty of time on her hands. When they had first married she would spend all day making the house perfect, cooking a gourmet meal, making sure she looked great when he came to the door, tired and ready for some tender loving care. And Barry appreciated it. He would take the drink she offered, and eat the delicious meal, telling her she was the best.

Then he would make love to her, always the same way, climbing on top, rubbing his cock against her until it hardened, and then slipping it into her pussy. He would move and thrust to satisfy himself, leaving Jill frustrated. But she never complained.

They had had a whirlwind courtship, and she hadn't noticed that sex was less than perfect. She'd been so enamored of his dark blue eyes, his thick blond hair that always fell over his forehead in that cute way, his strong lean body, honed from years of tennis and sailing. She wouldn't admit it, but she was also enamored of his four bedroom house in plush Highland Hills, his sailboat and his Porsche, his membership at the exclusive Banyard Country Club.

They had met when her temp firm had placed her as a secretary at his law firm. She was new to the area, sharing an apartment with two other young women, barely making ends meet. Every spare penny she had went to her wardrobe and makeup, and it showed. Her long dark hair was beautifully but simply cut, hanging prettily around her face. Dark eyes, full mouth, classic features. She wore perfectly tailored suits that emphasized her long lean lines and shapely legs. Though a little 'old' for it, at 26, she could have been a model, that's what people always told her. But she didn't have the ambition, she supposed. She just seemed to drift from job to job, boyfriend to boyfriend.

When Barry asked her out, she was pleased, but she didn't expect anything. Most men bored her, or were out of her reach, already married or gay. Barry was fun, taking her to all the trendy places. He was kind and sweet in a boyish, innocent way that charmed her. She knew she didn't love him, though she did like him a lot. Sometimes she wondered if there was something wrong with her. Maybe she didn't have the capacity to really love someone. Maybe she was broken somehow.

When he proposed, after only four weeks of dating, she was stunned. They were eating at a little Brazilian place, and she was distracted, wondering how she was going to pay her credit card bills, when he said, "Jill, I love you."

"I love you too," she responded, smiling that dimpled smile that she knew could melt men's hearts. He had said this often, several times a day, since the first week. She felt almost duty bound to respond in kind, even though if probed she would have admitted she didn't know what love was. She didn't think too much about it. He was always calling her darling and sweetheart, and staring meaningfully into her eyes. It was almost annoying, but she knew he was sincere, and he did it over the finest champagne, or while presenting her with a $200 bouquet of flowers, so she forgave him rather readily in her mind. In a way she did love him, she supposed.

"No, I mean I really love you. I've never felt this way before, Jill. It's you. You're the one. I want to make you my wife. Will you marry me?"

Jill laughed. Make you my wife? Who talked like that? But she realized with a little shock that he was serious! This man she had known for a month was proposing marriage! To follow up his words, he pulled out a little blue velvet box. "This is for you, if you'll have it." He opened the box and she couldn't contain the little gasp as she looked at the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen, set simply with a star aapphire on either side. She wanted that ring. She wanted the life he offered. She was sure she could learn to love him. She would make it work; she knew she could do it. She could do anything she set her mind to.

Now, six months later, after a whirlwind honeymoon weekend in Bermuda (he promised Europe once he made partner, which should happen anytime now, he was certain) Jill settled down to be Mrs. Barry Lennon. It was great fun playing house, at first. And in bed she was reasonably aroused by his big cock. It was enough, at first. But now she was bored. Itchy. She had been used to a life of struggle and hustle. When her dad had died of a heart attack when she was 14, she and her mom, then a housewife herself, had had to make it on their own. She was used to being independent, and to being very busy, always working, and partying after hours. But Barry liked her to be there for him when he got home. He liked the idea of her keeping house for him. He was already talking about children, but she had convinced him she just wasn't ready for that yet.

She did like the luxury, and the leisure time, to a point. It was fun to shop at the gourmet supermarket and buy whatever she wanted to, without even looking at the prices. She enjoyed making the fancy meals from the cookbooks her mother-in-law had provided. She liked smoothing the fine 400 count cotton sheets over their big antique bed. She was starting to make new friends, with the leisure set, as she thought of them. The perfectly coifed and manicured women at the club, who went to work out and gossip and get a massage or a tan. There was one girl named Ellie that she especially liked, and they had lunch together sometimes. But basically she was lonely. And bored.

Then she met Ken.

He came to the house that morning at 10:00 , responding to her call for a plumber. The kitchen sink was blocked and Barry had told her to call someone; he wasn't handy around the house. When the doorbell rang, Jill peeked through the peephole and saw a tall thin man, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a plumber's overall with his name stitched neatly over his heart. He was really good looking and Jill felt a little tug of desire in her pussy which she tried to dismiss. He was holding a toolbox and looking official, so Jill opened the door and welcomed him in.

The sink was no problem; Ken had it unblocked in no time. As he was writing out the invoice Jill said on an impulse, "Say, I've just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Can I interest you in a cup?" Ken looked up from his invoice. He looked at his watch, then he looked at her, appraising her frankly, taking in her pink T-shirt, cut-off shorts, bare tan legs.

With a slow sexy smile he said, "Why sure. I have a little while before my next job. That'd be very nice."

Oh shit, what am I doing ? Jill couldn't believe she was offering coffee to the plumber. It was like the beginning to some bad porn film. Well, she hadn't meant anything by it, really just coffee. Had she? When he sat down at her table and she poured coffee into the pretty ceramic mug she had set before him, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She could smell his cologne, feel the masculinity flowing off of him like some kind of sonar, detecting her, detecting her need.

She smiled innocently and said, "Cream?"

"Yes, please. Real cream, huh? Classy." As he took the little cream jug from her his fingers brushed hers. She felt her nipples harden and worried suddenly that he could see them poking through the thin fabric of her shirt. "You're going to join me, aren't you? I don't want to drink alone." She sat across from him, feeling nervous but excited. This was ridiculous; they were just having coffee. Her large engagement ring and heavy gold wedding band glittered in the sunlight.

"Married long?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said are you married long? This is some nice place you got."

"Oh, thank you. Um, I've been married about six months. You?"

"Me? Married? No way. I like to play the field too much. You'd be amazed how many gorgeous housewives there are out there, just waiting, all alone, for someone like me to show up and, uh, fix their plumbing." He grinned devilishly. She looked down, fingering her ring nervously.

He leaned toward her. "You have anything besides coffee?"

"What?"

"Besides coffee. A bun or something."

"A bun?" This was crazy. He was asking for a bun and she was could barely catch her breath. She decided to take him at face value. "Let's see, I think I do have some croissants from this morning." She stood but as she passed him he pulled her toward him. She lost her balance and settled heavily on his lap. With a little squeal, she tried to stand up, apologizing in her confusion. But he wouldn't let her go. He didn't ask permission, he didn't hesitate. He kissed her. She sat frozen, not responding, but not stopping him either.

He continued to kiss her, the coffee ignored, croissants forgotten. Her lips parted and she kissed him back, pressing her full breasts against his hard chest. He stood up, easily scooping her into his arms and whispered into her now tousled hair, "Where's the bedroom?"

She didn't answer, struck dumb by his question, by what was happening, by her body's obvious and ardent response to him. Was he going to rape her? Why wasn't she terrified for her life? But she wasn't. She was only afraid that she was going to break her vows to her husband, because she knew she was going to. She had to have this man. He smelled so delicious she literally wanted to bite him. And yet she couldn't bring herself to speak. To tell him where the bedroom was was to admit that they were going to go there, and get into the bed and.

"No problem," he said, as if understanding her hesitation. "Shouldn't be hard to find." He strode from the breakfast room through the house to the stairs. He climbed them easily, holding her as if she were a rag doll in his arms. He found the bedroom easily enough, with its large brass bed set in the center of a big sunny room. The window looked out over the bay, and Jill could see the blue green sparkle of the water, and the pale blue of the sky. He dropped her on the bed and fell heavily on top of her, kissing her again. She could feel his erection hard in his overalls against her thigh. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it banging against him.

He pulled her pink T-shirt up, revealing her breasts, clad in a satin bra. He pulled up the bra too, allowing the breasts to tumble out, nipples erect. Jill was breathing so hard she felt dizzy. She knew she had to protest, to fight, to do something to show she wasn't a willing party to all this. Then his mouth found a nipple and the moan she heard was her own.

When he pulled down her panties, her legs seemed to fall open of their own accord. His tongue was hot and silky against her pussy and she sighed, forgetting all pretense of resistance. When he stripped she barely noticed, until she felt his hard cock enter her, filling her with such intense pleasure that she climaxed almost immediately.

He wasn't done with her though. Pulling out, he flipped her over, forcing her into a doggy position. Then he entered her again, holding her hips to guide himself in, not giving her a moment to adjust. He fucked her hard and fast, and came after just a few minutes, his moan low and guttural. He hadn't asked her if she was using protection, he hadn't offered any himself, of course. He'd just come into her like she was some whore! Luckily she was on the pill, but my God, what if she hadn't been?

He didn't pull out of her yet, she could still feel his cock hard inside of her. His fingers found her pussy, still swollen with lust, and he massaged her expertly until she cried out and pulled away from him, falling onto the bed as she pressed her legs together, experiencing a searing orgasm at the hands of this stranger.

While she lay panting, her face flushed, bra still pushed uncomfortably over her breasts, Ken stood and pulled his clothes back on. "Sorry to fuck and run. Man, you look gorgeous and that was fantastic, baby. But I have another call. Won't do to keep the customers waiting. My number's on the invoice, sweetcakes. Call me if you get lonely. I'll be here in a flash. I make emergency house calls for my best customers. No, don't see me out; I know the way." And with that he was gone.

When Barry came home that night Jill was extra solicitous. She felt as if he must know what had happened. She was waiting for him to say, what happened today, honey? You look different somehow. But he didn't notice a thing. He was busy telling her a long and, to her, boring story about some case he was working on. And when they went up to bed, and he snuggled in beside her, she was afraid again that he would notice, sense that she had been with another man. Of course she had showered; a long hot shower with lots of soap, but still she was afraid somehow the man had left his scent, some kind of mark on her that would give her away.

Barry didn't notice a thing as he climbed on her. His cock entering her reminded her of Ken, and her body responded despite her worry. This time she didn't have to fake her orgasm, though poor Barry didn't know the difference anyway. He was asleep before she even reached over to turn off the little lamp by the bed. She lay in the dark, eyes open, for a long time after that.

She wouldn't call him again. No way. It was a one-time fluke. An aberration. He must have caught her at an especially weak moment. As she lay by the pool, working on her already perfect tan, she let the book she was reading fall to the ground. The sun was warm on her body, but she felt too drowsy to even slip into the pool for a cooling swim. She had tried not to think of Ken; to busy herself with cooking and shopping and working out so she wouldn't dwell on the stranger who had come into her house and fucked her and then disappeared. She had sworn she wouldn't call, but she was half hoping somehow that he would call her. It had been a week and she hadn't heard a word. Maybe he was a one-time kind of guy and she'd never see him again. But he had made that comment about house calls. Call me anytime. No, she wouldn't.

But somehow her fingers were punching in the number she hadn't meant to memorize. And Ken was on his way. Before he could even ring the bell, she pulled the door open. She was ready to make a speech - she didn't know why she had called him. She must have been temporarily insane, he would just have to leave. She was a married woman. But then she saw his face, his dark eyes intense, his smile lazy and laden with sex. Her words died as his mouth found hers, while he kicked the door shut.

After that she stopped making excuses. They rarely spoke; they just fucked. Any and every which way, in every room of the house, they had sex. He didn't ask her permission for anything and he took just what he wanted. He even fucked her in the ass, something Barry had never asked her to do. She didn't mind it, even kind of liked it because it was so taboo, so very naughty.

They were on the kitchen floor, and Ken's cock was rammed up Jill's ass. She was still wearing her little sundress. This time he hadn't bothered to remove it. He'd just pointed to the ground, and when she was kneeling, he'd flipped up the dress, pulled down her panties, and entered her ass after he had her suck his cock to make it wet. That's how Barry found them when he came in through the backdoor, having forgotten some important papers in his study that he needed for a court appearance that afternoon. He had thought he would surprise his wife, and maybe make love to her before returning to work. He was excited at the prospect.

Now he just stood there, staring, his mouth open, while some strange man fucked his wife from behind on his kitchen floor. Time seemed to gel and freeze into this one horrible moment. This his mind clicked back on and he thought, Rape! She was being raped! He had to save her. "What the fuck!" he exploded, coming fully into the room, the screen door slamming behind him. Ken leaped up, zipping his pants as he did so, tucking his shirt into his pants.

Jill had jumped up as well, hugging herself and crying out, "Oh, my God!" leaving no doubt in Barry's mind that this was no rape. This was consensual. Before he could yell for Ken to get the fuck out of his house, Ken was gone. Jill was gulping, breathing in little panicked gasps. What would happen now? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Barry had crumpled into a chair, his head in his hands. Jill wanted to comfort him but she was afraid to touch him. She sat near him at the table and burst into tears.

"Oh, Barry! God, I'm so sorry. It was so stupid. It was just something that happened. I - "

"Stop. I don't want to hear it right now. Just be quiet. I can't think. Just shut up." She did, putting her hand over her mouth, tears spilling over her cheeks. After a few moments he said, his voice tired, "How long, Jill?"

"What?" she said, stalling for time.

"How long have you been having an affair?"

"Oh, Barry! It isn't an affair. Please, I don't know what happened. A one time thing. It will never happen again. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Oh, please forgive me." She was sobbing now, her world crashing in around her. She tried to put her arms around him, but Barry shrugged her off.

"No. Don't touch me. Just give me some space here. I need to think. I have to go to court right now. I don't have time for this. How could you do this to me, Jill?" He didn't expect an answer, wouldn't listen when she tried to explain. He stood up and said, "Look, I have to get some papers and I'll see you tonight. We can talk then. Stop crying. Stop. I'll see you tonight." And he was gone.

It took a few weeks, but Barry actually forgave her. She was so truly contrite and sorry, swearing that it would never happen again, and she really meant it. A little wild sex wasn't worth losing a marriage! Sex with Barry had settled back into its usual dull routine. The first week after he had caught her, it had been exciting. Because he was so needy, so aware of having almost lost her, and she felt the same for him, they brought a certain desperation to their lovemaking that masqueraded as passion. But as he became complacent, he relaxed, and she began to make grocery lists in her head again, or daydream while he made love to her body.

Still, no more Ken. She wasn't going down that road again. She did think about him though. About the wild sex they had, and how alive she felt when she was with him. If she'd known that was out there before she married Barry, she might have thought twice before so readily accepting his proposal. Her fingers would idle down to her pussy while she was lying by the pool, alone, sipping a glass of wine. She would make herself come with visions of Ken, his cock buried in her pussy or her ass, his strong arms keeping her from getting away.

To channel this excess sexual energy, Jill started working out more at the club. She joined a cycling class taught by Andrew, a cute young guy who was really built. One day after class Andrew called to her, "Jill. Could you stay after for a second?" Jill nodded, still sitting on her cycle as the other people filed out of the class, heading off to shower or swim.

"Thanks. I just wanted to say I really like your style on the bike. You have excellent stamina and great form."

"Wow. Thanks. I enjoy it. It relaxes me." She flushed with pleasure at his compliment.

"I was wondering, we have an opening for a teacher for cycling in the afternoons, on Mondays and Wednesdays. Mandy's taking a leave of absence to travel and we have a spot to fill. Any way you'd be interested in teaching the class?"

"Me? Teach?" She started to say no automatically, that she couldn't possibly. But then she thought, why not? It would be fun.

Before she could say yes or no he hurried on. "It'd just be for a few months, and your membership fee would be waived, and we can pay you a small stipend. It isn't much but-"

"I'll do it."

"You will? That's great!" Andrew grinned at her, and it made him look like a 12 year old boy. A very handsome 12 year old boy.

"How old are you?" Jill blurted, without thinking.

"What? Oh, I'm 22, why?"

"I don't know. You look so young!"

"Well, you aren't much older, are you?"

"Not much," she laughed, feeling rather old suddenly, at her ripe old age of 26.

"Well," he said, his expression quizzical, "Could you start on Monday? We can meet when you have time to go over the routines and stuff. It's really easy; you won't have any trouble."

"It's a deal."

She hadn't meant to do it. She had been sincere when she promised Barry never again. But something about Andrew intrigued her. He didn't come on to her the way most guys seemed to. He was all business when he was training her for the class. He didn't respond to her little flirtations. Somehow this seemed to challenge her, and she stepped up the charm. Was she too old for this guy? Was that the deal? Never a very secure person, despite her beauty, Jill felt he was rejecting her.

In point of fact he would never have responded to flirtations from a member of the club, no matter how gorgeous or available. He'd had plenty of opportunity, as rich idle women selected him as their personal trainers, and then dressed to kill, posing suggestively as they did their workouts in front of him. Usually he ignored it, or was mildly amused, occasionally flattered. But he liked his job too much to risk it, and company policy was very clear about dating the members.

He did sometimes date staff, but Jill was still off limits. And the rings on her finger spoke clearly of her status as a married woman, and therefore taken. He accepted her invitation to lunch, however, because she was so sweet, and she had helped him out of the scheduling jam with the cycling class.

They met at a little Italian place, and over wine she became overtly flirtatious. Andrew was having a very hard time resisting this lovely woman. Being off his home turf of the club, he had lost his bearings somewhat. He decided to confront her on it. "What exactly are we doing here, Jill?"

Jill looked flustered, and had the grace to blush. "Whatever do you mean?" she managed, eyes wide and innocent.

"Well," Andrew said, "unless I'm totally misreading you, you seem interested in me. As more than a friend. But I know you're married, and I don't know what's going on."

Jill was hiding her face in her hands. She was mortified! God, she was so obvious. What was wrong with her! Here she was going after this kid! Why? Because he didn't slobber all over her, and that was a challenge? It was so embarrassing. She looked up and said, "I'm so stupid. I hope you can forgive me. I don't know what I think I'm doing. I don't think I'm thinking very clearly. I'm really sorry if I've offended you."

His heart melted. "It's ok. Really. I'd love to have an affair with you, God, who wouldn't. It's just you're a member of the club and-"

"An affair! I wasn't looking to have an affair!" She felt affronted, righteous even, but a part of her knew he was dead on the money. She was looking again, feeling needy, deprived by her lack of sexual connection with Barry. It was like a drug. Ken had opened something in her she didn't know existed, and now she was looking for it on the sly. Not even admitting to herself that she was after that thrill again.

Andrew was slightly annoyed. He knew he hadn't been misreading her. Now she was just defending herself, backtracking to keep from being humiliated. "No hard feelings," he said, smiling. "I must have misread your cues." But he knew he hadn't. He was going to test this girl out, see if she was thinking with her head or her pussy. "Say, I have the afternoon off, what say we go back to my place? I have some neat new equipment I'd love to show you. Not many people appreciate the finer distinctions of a really good stationary cycle."

Jill thought of the otherwise long afternoon at home alone and said, "Sure, why not?"

After they climbed several flights of stairs, Andrew unlocked the door, opening it to a loft, one large room with concrete walls and floors, half of which contained exercise equipment to rival any gym. He bowed slightly, smiling toward Jill, gesturing her in. The other half of the room contained stereo equipment and a double bed covered with a hand stitched quilt. There was a small kitchenette and an even smaller bathroom. The room was saved by a large window that ran the length of one entire wall, letting in lots of sunlight and a beautiful view of trees and a well tended garden below.

"This is great," Jill said, swirling around as she took it in. "And your equipment, wow!" Andrew showed her his exercise equipment, puffing up proudly over his new Z2010 Nautilus Aerobicycle. As she bent over to examine it, he lightly circled her with his arms. She twisted around to face him, her heart beating with excitement. She didn't care if she had promised Barry to be good. What would it matter, anyway? One little fling with this guy, that's all it was. It wasn't an affair, for heaven's sake! Just scratching an itch. It had been over a month since she'd seen Ken. She had never heard from him again once Barry had discovered him, nor had she tried to call him.

But Andrew was so young, so fresh. His body was hard and well-muscled. She wanted to feel that body against hers. She leaned in, closing her eyes, waiting for a kiss. When there was none forthcoming, she opened her eyes, pulling away from his embrace.

Smiling, acting unaware of the sexual tension between them, Andrew said, "Would you like to see my new free weights? You could try them out if you want." Embarrassed that he hadn't kissed her, but feeling grateful for the out, Jill nodded. In the corner of the room hundreds of pounds of steel lay waiting to be lifted. Andrew had Jill lie on the bench, on her back. He stood over her and handed her a pair of small weights that he had her raise and lower a number of times. He handed her a heavier set.

"Now, Jill. I want you to hold the weights just like that, yes. A little higher. Good. Now don't move. You might get hurt if you drop those weights." All of the sudden his hands were on her stomach, moving in slow, sexy swirls across her midriff. She gasped at the unexpected touch, but had to admit it felt wonderful. Then his hands slid slowly upward, till they found her breasts. His fingers were relentless as they slid under the fabric of her bra, pushing it up so that her breasts were exposed to his probing fingers.

She was still holding up the weights, though her arms were getting tired now. His fingers rolled her now rock-hard nipples in a tight grasp, till she moaned with pleasure. Smiling, he leaned forward and gently took the weights from her hands. Her arms fell limply to her sides, the muscles spent from her exertion.

Andrew was grinning at her. He had her number all right. Then he kissed her mouth. She responded ardently, making soft moaning sighs. "Not looking for an affair, huh? I totally got you wrong, huh?" As he spoke, his voice teasing, he kissed her mouth, her neck, her hair. She tried to be angry, and she truly was embarrassed at her own eager display. But there was no denying that she was very aroused.

Pulling away suddenly, Andrew stood back. She could see the rise in his pants, and felt her own wetness and need. He grinned at her and said, "Admit it, Jill. You came back here with me for one thing, didn't you?" She looked away, her face hot. "Admit it."

Jill got up from the bench, smoothing her long hair from her face. She turned toward the window, confused. Andrew came up from behind and spun her around. He grabbed her erect nipples through her sheer blouse and said, "You are a prick tease, aren't you, Jill? Is that what this is? You lead on young guys like me to make yourself feel hot? We're real people you know, us young studs, not just your little fuck toys for when hubby is away doing his secretary-"

He stopped mid sentence because Jill had slapped his face. She hadn't meant to and stepped back, gasping, starting to apologize. Andrew's hand went to his check and he moved menacingly toward her. "You little bitch." She was truly frightened for that second he approached her. Alone here in his apartment and no one else knew where she was. Oh God, what stupid thing had she done now. But instead of hurting her, he pulled her to him again, and this time he didn't talk, but just kissed her, forcing her mouth open with his tongue. His kisses were like nothing she had ever experienced. It was like he was making love to her mouth. She didn't want it ever to stop. She slumped in his arms; she would have fallen if he hadn't been holding her. They sank together to the floor. There was no turning back.

It didn't last long with Andrew. They met several more times, always at his place. Then one day it was over. Andrew told her that he had found himself a girlfriend and he informed Jill that he, unlike her, was not a two-timer. Her feelings were hurt, but a part of her was relieved. Andrew wasn't a terrific lover; in fact, after the initial seduction, he reminded Jill of Barry - wham bam thank you ma'am.

After Andrew Jill behaved for a while, focusing on her daily routine, and on keeping Barry happy. But it wasn't long before she felt restless again. Something essential was missing in her life but she didn't know what it was.

Sean mowed their lawn once a week. He was older, maybe 35, with a heavy mustache and thick dark hair. Not particularly tall, he was strong and stocky. He looked like he could break Jill in half with one hand. Not my type, she told herself. She preferred tall lean men, like Barry. But something about Sean got under her skin. Maybe it was the way he looked at her when he thought she didn't notice. Like she was a scoop of ice cream that he wanted to lick. She felt it should have insulted her, but instead it aroused her. She liked it. She began to dress in more skimpy outfits when he was due to mow. She would 'forget' her bra, or wear shorts that were cut off so high they left little to the imagination.

One sultry afternoon Jill offered Sean some of her homemade lemonade. He was wiping the sweat off his brow as she handed him the check for his services. The dress she was wearing was a little denim sleeveless outfit, that zippered all the way up the front. Her braless breasts chafed slightly against the fabric.

As he drank from the glass, Sean's eyes raked over her in that insolent way that made her hot. Her zipper was purposefully low, and the dress was cut so that it pushed her breasts together, showing off her cleavage provocatively. "It's awful hot out here, Sean. Want to come in and cool off a bit?" Before she knew it, they were in the shower together, even though she'd promised herself she wouldn't do anything stupid at home any more.

Sean was fun. He liked to make love to her in the shower, after soaping her up and getting her totally wild. Then he would kneel down and tickle her pussy with his tongue and his thick mustache until pleasure built up in her so that she thought she would explode. Barry never kissed her pussy. Then Sean would have her kneel in front of him and suck his surprisingly large cock. He would hold her head while she did it, easing his cock in and out of her mouth till he came, spurting gushes of semen down her throat. Barry occasionally asked her to suck his cock, but he never came in her mouth, always moving to her pussy when he was aroused, to do his usual bump and grind.

Jill always made sure Sean was gone well before Barry might come home. Except for one afternoon, when Sean brought some champagne along. Over her protest (I really can't drink during the day, I go right to sleep) he popped the cork and poured them each a glass, using her fine crystal that looked like it would break in his meaty grip. It was delicious, and Jill drank several glasses, finishing each one as fast as Sean could pour it for her.

She knew she was drunk, but she felt wonderful. "God, you are gorgeous," Sean said appreciatively, and he pulled her clothes off right in the kitchen before he carried her up to his favorite place, the shower. They made love for a long time, till they both had prune skin and the room was awash in billowing steam. As they were drying off Jill heard a sound downstairs. Barry! Shit, what time was it? The champagne and the great lovemaking had completely befuddled the young woman. She had let Sean stay way longer than she usually did! Still, it was early for Barry, no need to panic.

Pulling on her silk robe, whispering to Sean to stay quiet and hide in the bathroom, she flew down the stairs, almost colliding with Barry, who was holding her dress and panties, and the empty champagne bottle in his hand. "Did I miss the party?" he said, teeth clenched, voice barely controlling his rage.

"It's not what you think, please Barry."

"Oh, right. You just threw off your clothes and drank a bottle of champagne by yourself."

"Please, I can explain," she begged, with no idea at all of how to explain. She didn't feel drunk anymore, at least not giddy and gay, as she had just a moment before. Now her head felt heavy and she couldn't think clearly.

Barry shrugged her off as she tried to approach him, to hug him. He went up the stairs and threw open the bedroom door. No one. He went next to the bathroom, recalling that Jill was in her robe, hair wet, face pink from the steam. Pulling back the shower curtain he dropped the champagne bottle onto the bath rug and said, "Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out of my house!" Sean, naked, had been hiding in the bathtub, hoping to make his escape. Barry didn't realize he was the gardener; he was never home when his lawn was mowed.

Barry threw his clothes at him, and Sean grabbed them, pulling them on as fast as he could. "Hey man, I'm-"

"Spare me, motherfucker. I don't want to hear you; I don't want to see you. If you aren't out of my house in 10 seconds I'm calling the cops and having you arrested for breaking and entering." Sean ran out of the bathroom, pushing Barry aside. He grabbed his boots and flew out the door, slamming it as he went. Barry went into the bedroom where Jill has laying on the bed, hiding her face in the pillows.

"Bitch!" he screamed, and grabbed her by the wrist, forcing her to turn over. "You promised! You whore! Who else have you been fucking while I work my ass off for you? Answer me, you bitch!" As he spoke he pulled her toward him. Grabbing the sash of her robe, he pulled it off, yanking her robe open. "What do I have to do? You want to be treated like the whore you are? Like the little brat you are? Come here!" Grabbing both her wrists, Barry pulled his wife till she was over his knee, her head hanging off the edge of the bed.

"Barry! Stop! What are you doing! I said I'm sorry. Please, let me up!"

But he didn't let her up. Instead he put a hand on the small of her back and said, "I should have done this a long time ago, the first time you messed around. And don't tell me this is only the second time, because I won't believe you. I know now you're nothing but a whore. A cunt! And so I'm going to treat you like one! You are no longer my wife, Jill. You are my cunt, my whore. Now take what you deserve, whore!" With that he brought his hand down hard on her ass, so that she screamed and wriggled, trying to get away. He held her tight, bringing his hand down again across the other cheek.

Jill was stunned, not just by his behavior, but by his words. Mild mannered Barry almost never cursed, and certainly had never called her any of those names! She realized she was afraid; he was scaring her with this new angry persona. She tried to get off of his lap, to wriggle free, to get away.

"Keep still, bitch. I'm not going to stop until I can't do it anymore. This is what you've needed all along, isn't it? A good old fashioned spanking to keep you in line. Well, you've earned it, shit, you're begging for it! So take it!" Again he smacked her, and again, until she was crying out, yelping and struggling. But Barry was strong, and anger fueled his passion, so that he hit her quite hard, probably harder than he realized.

Eventually she was crying real tears, but no longer struggling. He had literally beaten the fight out of her. Her ass was a deep crimson, and he could already see the beginnings of bruising on her delicate skin. Instead of melting his heart, this just seemed to inflame him more. He realized his cock was rock hard, so hard it hurt. It needed release. Well, this whore should satisfy that need. He flipped her off his lap, letting her fall on the bed. She was still crying, but softly now.

Pulling off his clothes, letting his impossibly hard cock out of its cotton cage, he started to lie across her, as he always had, missionary style. But something in him made him flip her onto her hands and knees. "You act like a bitch, I'll treat you like one. Fuck you like the bitch in heat you are!" He slammed into her pussy, which was still wet from that bastard in the shower. "This - is - what - you - need!" Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust into her pussy. He fucked her hard, grunting and sweating over her, pulling her by the hair, using her roughly.

He was raping her! Her own husband had just beaten her and now he was raping her. Jill's mind was outraged; horrified. But her body was in ecstasy. That wetness hadn't been for Sean. It was for Barry, and for what was happening to her. She didn't understand it, but she knew she loved it. Something opened inside of her, some secret Pandora's box of lust and need, and Barry was indeed giving her exactly, just exactly, what she needed.