Chapter Seven

Pamela had a small mound, thickly covered with soft hair. The twin rolls held the folded wings of her sex tucked tightly closed, like her honey bun was still in the cellophane and Irene supposed Pamela was still virgin and fearful of Adam making a mess in the coveted nest.

Poor frustrated Adam. The tightly curled lips of Pamela’s sex looked innocent and pristine. Pamela held all the unanswered dreams to a young man’s heart between her slender legs and didn’t know it. Adam’s cock strained in Irene’s hand.

And Pamela saw it.

Unfortunately, at the very moment that Pamela had screwed up her courage and taken a step closer to the edge of the hot-tub. The foam, swirling and bubbling, had inexplicably parted and Pamela clearly saw what Irene held in her hand. “You perverts,” she cried out, spinning away. “You set me up.” She stooped, showing off the orbs of a lovely tight bottom and snatched her clothes from the patio tiles.

Adam half rose and cried after her, “Pamela. No...” But Pamela was already at the back door and in dismay, Adam watched her disappear into Irene’s kitchen. “Ah shit.”

“Let her go, Adam,” Irene said, a hand on his chest, forcing him back down. “She’s not ready yet. She just needs a little more time. She’ll come ‘round.”

“But I need to talk to her,” Adam tried.

Irene held him firmly. “No. Not yet. You’ll just make it worse. Give her time to think things through. By tomorrow, it won’t seem so bad and both of you will be in a better frame of mind to deal with your frustrations.”

Adam leaned back and exhaled deeply. “Maybe you’re right. And she’s probably halfway home by now. What’s the point.” Adam was suddenly aware that Irene still held him in her hand. That she was toying with the ridge of foreskin, working the fold gently with her thumb. “God that feels nice.” His gaze flickered.

“That’s right, baby. Just relax and let me make it up to you.”

Adam’s heart revved when Irene moved. Half rising from the water, she straddled him and with a hand from behind, she found his penis and parted her sex. With a wiggle, she settled down and Adam slipped comfortably into place.

“Christ. I’m inside you,” He threw his head back and closed his eyes.

Irene rolled forward. “It feels good, doesn’t it? You’re a perfect fit for me.” Irene rotated her hips to get him seated all the way in. The tip of his penis nestled the tip of her cervix and he stretched her wide without hurting. Irene pulled back, rotated and rolled forward. “Sex with you is so easy,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around Adam’s neck. “You like that, Adam?” And she pulled and rolled forward again.

“No one has ever done this for me.” Adam’s eyes were still closed.

Irene increased the rhythm of her love-making, aware of the wet slapping sound her breasts made against his chest. She ground down, raking her clitoris into the coarse hair that covered his pubis and was rewarded with a butt-clenching orgasm. She paused a moment, to gather her emotions, but quickly started right back in, determined to suck as much enjoyment out of him as possibly, before the delicious moment when he would ejaculate.

She became more aggressive, lifting higher and pounding down, her breath coming out in unladylike grunts. Her second orgasm was more intense and she took a moment to readjust the angle of his penetration. Irene was just starting in on him again when she caught the movement from behind the curtain. Through the bars of her eyelashes, she saw Pamela silently watching from the kitchen window.

Pamela’s face was pale, detached, as if wrestling something inside herself and as soon as Irene realized her performance with Adam was being observed and evaluated, she thrilled. Now, wanton and promiscuous, her love-making turned animal. Now she was fucking; down and dirty. She came again but didn’t hesitate. She pounded Adam hard while watching Pamela through slit-eyes. I’m fucking your boyfriend, she laughed to herself. And then Adam stiffened.

“Oh no. Not yet.” Irene was thinking of all the things she had yet to do for him, right under Pamela’s upturned nose. But Adam wasn’t in any position to help her. His arms came up to stop the onslaught. He held her and Irene felt the spasm jolt his body. He spurted. She ground down one last time and held. Her loins reacted as she was collapsing into his arms. See Pamela? That’s how you do it! It’s called fucking!”

Adam was quietly chuckling to himself, Pamela had discreetly disappeared from the kitchen window and Irene rolled off Adam’s hips and lay panting beside him.

Irene pushed up. “You want something cold? A beer?”

Adam watched the water sheet from Irene’s breasts; dripping from nipples hardened by exertion. “Mmm. That’d be good.” He watched her ass and legs work as she stepped from the hot-tub. Completely at home with her nudity, Irene moved along the garden path and opening the back door, she stepped into the hash fluorescents of her kitchen. Irene paused a moment to slide the door closed before turning to Pamela.

“Adam thought you’d gone home.”

Pamela ran her eyes along the curves of Irene’s body. “No. Thought I’d hang around and catch the final act,” she said bitterly.

Pamela was madder than hell inside. She felt tricked. She had been goaded out of her clothes by Adam and the old bitch of a neighbor-woman. God. They had planned it. A grand scheme to get her drunk and naked in a hot tub. How could she have been so stupid?

She reached down for her clothes and marched to the back door. Inside Irene’s kitchen, Pamela had immediately pulled on her skirt and dragged underpants up. Shouldering on her blouse, she felt decent again, but now what? Adam should be right along, she thought. He knew how disgusted she felt– she had made that painfully obvious. He would be right behind her, to drive her home. Christ, what was taking so long? Where was he?

Pamela went to the kitchen window and held back the curtain.

Her stomach nosedived. Adam wasn’t on his way to sooth her wounded soul, nor was he coming to take her home. Adam, with his head thrown back, was lifting his hips, thrusting into the depths between Irene’s legs.

Pamela was sickened. Her supposed boyfriend, with Irene’s help, was about to get off; something she could never help him with, and wouldn’t lower herself to do, even if she could.

Christ. Was it that important to him? How earthly middle class. She deserved better.

Pamela watched Irene’s lewd rhythmic dance, rolling back and forth in her boyfriend’s lap. God, she had been such a fool. Luckily, she had become aware of their trickery, before the two of them had a chance to broach her defenses; before they had violated her. Nice try! she almost cried out.

Adam’s head went back. His body stiffened as if touched by a live wire and she knew he was ejaculating. Cumming inside Irene. She wondered what that might be like. A jolt clutched her spine and she dropped the window curtain.

Pamela went to the fridge and pulled out the jug of Margaritas. The tequila was strong but she didn’t care. She poured a glassful and sucked it back. With a shudder, she topped off her glass and stumbled toward the kitchen table. She felt sweaty and gulped at her drink and wondered what the hell to do next.

Pamela heard the door, looked for Adam, but Irene stepped in carrying empty coffee mugs. She turned to close the door, giving Pamela the chance to assess the women who had just seduced her boyfriend. Irene was tall, naked, soaking wet and dripping on the floor.

She was magnificent: Mature, intelligent and a woman who had carved out a niche for herself in a male dominated profession. She was an airline pilot, for christ-sake. How cool was that?

Irene was everything Pamela had ever wanted to be. Tough, beautiful, successful.

Pamela had denied herself for so long. She had fought hard against it. But abruptly that was over. She had to accept the fact and tell Adam. Tell her parents. She ran her eyes across Irene’s meaty thighs and knew what she wanted: She wanted the tall bitch to grab hold of her. She wanted to be beaten into submission. Be held down, squirming, and feel the tongue between her legs. “Oh God! I saw everything!”

Irene pulled two beers from the fridge. “Yeah, I know. You were watching from the window.”

Pamela’s head shot ‘round. “You saw me? And still you...”

“Hey relax. Someone had to clean Adam’s pipes. You didn’t seem interested.”

Pamela dropped her eyes. “Looks like you did a good job.”

Irene followed her gaze and cringed when she saw the globs of semen still clinging in the wet hairs. She quickly took a chair to hide the proof of her indiscretion. Irene saw Pamela’s empty glass. “You want a beer?”

“Shouldn’t you take that to Adam?”

“Adam’s a big boy. He can wait.” And Irene slid one of the bottles across.

Pamela surprised her by putting the long-neck directly to her lips and sucking back a mouthful. “So is he any good?”

“Adam? Are you kidding? He’s great: Young, charming, enthusiastic and in super shape. He can go the distance. You’re a lucky girl, Pamela.”

“Yeah. Lucky me. My parents love him. He comes from a good family and once he graduates, he’ll teach English at the University. Once I finish my internship my folks are planning a huge wedding. Daddy will buy us a house in Druid Hills and we’ll have two kids; a boy and a girl. On weekends we’ll visit the grandparents and my mother will cook a pot roast.”

“Sounds perfect. What’s your problem?”

Pamela shot her an icy look. “The problem is I don’t love him, Irene. Would it surprise you to learn I’m more attracted to you than I am to him?”

It took a moment for that to register. Irene slumped back into her chair and just stared at Pamela’s face. “Are you telling me– No. Can’t be.”

Pamela took another hit from the beer bottle. “Look, I’ll call for a ride. Go back out there and see if Adam has recovered enough for a repeat performance. Give him another taste. He deserves it, after all this time; deserves better than me.” And with that, Pamela stood from the table. She gathered her things and turned toward the front door. “Don’t let Adam in on my secret. I need to tell him myself. I just don’t know how, yet, or when. Please.”

“No. I wouldn’t.” Irene sat mystified, still digesting the revelation Pamela had brought down on her head. God, poor Adam.

The front door closed with a click and Irene retrieved another beer from the fridge. She went out to Adam and got back into the steamy water but the thought of taking him inside again was far distant.