Sex adventures with Judy
Judy Penncroft lay on her back, savoring the soft, silent morning. The weight of Mark, her husband, pressed the double bed mattress down beside her, rolling her slightly towards him. She thought of that pressure and warmth being missing, of the bed being empty, and winced at the gut-twisting stab of pain this thought brought.
Resolutely, she forced her mind away from the dread possibility that was rapidly becoming a certainty. Instead she told herself to be glad that Mark was sleeping quietly for a change. Sometimes, more and more rarely, there was the perfect combination of circumstances needed to give him total peace. Either physical or mental agony almost always kept him twisting and turning restlessly in a sweaty tangle of sheets. Or, what was even worse, he would lie there rigid, his muscles knotted and straining as he wrestled silently with his torment.
As Judy slipped silently out of bed, twinges of pain reminded her of one of the reasons for Mark's tranquil sleep. The bruised ache in her shoulders was mute evidence of the power of his grasp on her the night before. In her crotch, on the insides of her thighs and her pubic hair, was a dry, tugging, crusty feeling.
In the shower, Judy felt the mild bruises, the stiffness, the dried semen all dissolving away. It was a sad feeling. Flinching away from that train of thought, she recalled how it had all begun.
***
As she passed Mark's chair with the last coffee cup, his arm snaked out, grasped her around the waist and hauled her down on his lap, squealing and giggling. The cup and saucer went flying and bouncing across the floor in a clattering testimony to their durability.
"Mark!" Judy protested.
With a growl of mock ferocity, Mark gripped the sides of her pretty face, twisting her head, his fingers tugging through her short black hair. His lips met hers in a savage, primitive kiss. His tongue drove between her lips, wedging her teeth open.
Even as she felt her passion boiling upward, Judy pushed defensively against her husband. Her hand slipped down his arm and touched the bandages and the hard plastic tubes jutting from his flesh. She jerked her hand away as if she had been burned.
She felt Mark's grip on her change, felt his tongue retreat from her mouth, felt his muscles go rigid. Desperately, before he could escape, Judy forced her tongue to follow his, to drive into his strong mouth. Twisting her torso, she ground her small, firm breasts against his hard chest. Her petite body writhed in his lap in a primitive dance of desire as she rekindled his faded passions.
The quivering tautness of his muscles changed slowly into the soft but more demanding grasp of sexual need, and Judy's desperation relaxed and became genuine lust. With her arms engulfing his head and neck, she snuggled herself deeper in his arms as their mouths worked and mingled in a sucking, devouring kiss. His hand slid from her back around her side, stroking the sweeping curve of her rib cage, then cupping and molding to one of her gentle breasts.
Heat built in Judy, sweeping through her. She responded to the warm grasp on her breast by pushing against it, arching her spine and twisting. Her bare legs twined sensuously as the crotch of her shorts bunched up against her pussy. Under her firm bottom she could feel the sturdy lump of Mark's cock hardening and thrusting at her eagerly.
Releasing her breast, Mark hooked his arm under her legs. With an easy heave, he lifted her and stood up, spinning her giddily as he headed for the bedroom. As always, the display of masculine power thrilled Judy. She clung to Mark's sturdy neck, her head on his shoulder as he carried her down the short hall to their bedroom.
Mark slammed the door behind him with an easy kick of one foot, carried her to the bed, and dropped her from three feet up. Breathless from the suddenness of it all, Judy bounced wildly once, then lay still. She was boiling inside, burning up with sexual need. But all she could do was lie there on her back, waiting for him, her arms out to her sides, one leg bent gracefully.
As she lay there, she studied Mark as he stripped off his clothes. Resolutely, carefully, she refused to look at the plastic shunts set deeply in the veins of his left arm. Instead she focused her eyes on the powerful flex of the muscles in his chest, the powerful column of his neck, the hot avid interest in his dark brown eyes. She ignored the fact that his torso had lost much of its strength and firmness, that the muscles were slowly and inevitably losing their tone under the ceaseless assault of the disease.
Fortunately, his cock had lost none of its impatient, powerful thrust. Judy's jaw knotted at the sight of his sturdy phallus. It swayed heavily, the base buried in a thick, curling mat of pubic hair. The purple head was swollen with need, and the column supporting it pulsed and swelled visibly.
The sight of her husband's cock, so ready to penetrate her, made Judy lick her lips in excitement. She wanted to move, to get her body stripped and exposed and ready for him, but her muscles were only capable of quivering, so great was her need. Still lying on her back, all she could do was put all her energy into the desperate pleading in her eyes.
She whimpered softly with ecstasy as her nude lover bent over her, his strong experienced fingers opening the buttons of her blouse with deft skill. Slowly, worshipfully, he unbuttoned her blouse from top to bottom, exposing a central stripe of her trim torso. Then he lifted her with one hand on the back of her neck and stripped away her blouse as easily as if he were undressing a baby. Then he let her gently back down on the bed.
His eyes swept from her face, with its sprinkling of freckles across nose and cheeks, down to the pale mounds of her breasts. Her nipples, small and pink, jutted up sharply, demandingly. The muscles in her flat stomach rippled and shivered eagerly.
There was no shaking or trembling in Mark's hands as he reached for the snap, and fly front, of her shorts. She felt her pants loosen, felt cool air touch her bare skin. When his hands gripped her shorts, she lifted her hips clear of the bed.
Mark paused. His heart was hammering as he studied Judy's nearly nude body. Her skin was golden tan where the sun had touched her, pale white where it hadn't. The tops of her breasts were sprinkled with a delicate pattern of freckles that made the paleness of her unexposed flesh seem even whiter. The white raciness of her bikini panties glowed against the even tan of her flat tummy and gracefully slender thighs. Through the flimsy white fabric Mark could see the dark, exciting shadow of her pubic triangle. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers into the elastic of her panties.
Judy lifted her hips again, and felt the elastic of her underpants cut into the firm flesh of her ass. She felt her panties sliding downward, felt cool air caress her more and more intimately. Then Mark was whipping the panties down and off her legs and she was kicking her feet free of them.
She was naked. She posed -- arched her back gently, sucked her stomach in. One leg was bent, the other straight, doing nothing to conceal her sex.
"Dear God!" Mark whispered as he lowered himself onto her. His hands gripped her shoulders with desperate urgent, bruising need.
Judy felt his weight come down on her and let the wind blast from her lungs with relief and satisfaction. Twisting her head so her mouth met his, she clutched at him with the same desperation with which he was holding her. Bare skin slid against bare skin with a hot, satiny softness that was broken and emphasized by the scratch of harsh body hair.
Judy rolled her hips toward Mark's. Spreading her legs, she clasped one of his strong hairy thighs between hers, pressing the hot nest of her pussy against his hard muscle. She felt the hot shaft of his erect prick pressing against her soft flesh. Slipping one slender hand between them, she curled her fingers around the rock-hard, engorged cylinder of his cock. She squeezed it to reassure herself of its reality, its power, and its hardness.
Mark's hand slid down Judy's side and she rolled back on her back. She let her legs slide open to expose the heart of her sex. His hand scraped over the tender expanse of her stomach, pressed the curls of her pubic bush flat and entered the moist folds of her pussy. One big finger slid into her hot, oozing nest, probed into the salivating hole of her vagina.
Mark was being torn apart. Judy's body, so small and graceful and young, seemed to beg to be treated roughly. But, afraid of his own strength, he fought to temper his caresses with tenderness. But he knew that in the end, their animal instincts would have them both clawing at each other. Her small frame and lithe, gymnastics-trained muscles could almost match his sturdy body and powerful muscles thrust for thrust.
Hooking his finger in her hot, wet, slick vagina, he pulled upward against her pubic arch, crushing her clitoris with his palm. He felt her fingers tighten convulsively around his prick and milk the hard cylinder with a steely almost masculine strength acquired on the uneven parallel bars.
Judy rolled her head from side to side as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. The hot bar of Mark's cock in her hand was ready and eager. She licked lips that were suddenly, perversely, hot and dry -- although her mouth was watering with a primitive appetite. Deliberately, she remained on her back, battling the urge to turn on Mark and engulf his body with hers. She loved tormenting herself, loved the feel of a finger hooked in her pussy, loved the hard pressure of his body alongside hers, loved the touch of cool air on the inflamed tips of her breasts.
Her well-rounded hips began to roll and twist with her steadily increasing need. She scrubbed the wiry bush of her pussy against his invading hand. The muscles on the insides of her thighs were quivering. Her breathing was ragged and uneven as her rib cage and diaphragm lost coordination and began battling each other.
The finger hooked deep in her slick channel was too little to do more than inflame her. The muscles of her vagina clenched and squeezed but Mark's probe was too slender to grip tightly. With a soft whimper of need, Judy tugged on Mark's monster erection, trying to pull it in the direction of her ravenously hungry pussy. Her slender body was spread wide, was dying to have his full weight grinding it down into the mattress.
Mark slid his body over hers and Judy twisted her head. Her mouth was seeking his, was sucking hungrily. As his bulk covered her, she reamed her tongue hungrily around in his mouth. He pulled his hand from her crotch and clutched her. He was smearing her pale skin with her own secretions as his strong fingers dug into her ribs. Where once she had been ticklish as a child, now, as a woman, a light touch sent waves of lust flaming through her writhing, squirming body.
Ignoring the crushing weight that ground her wrist into her pubic area, Judy guided the head of Mark's cock to the hot, dripping funnel of her sex. Only after she had nestled the big, round knob of his phallus at the entrance to her did she pull her hand out from between them. Her fingers were sticky and slippery with Mark's slimy secretions. She smeared his back with his fluids as she hugged him to her.
When Mark thrust the demanding, hot, hard bulk of his cock into her the air gusted from Judy's lungs. It felt so good to have a huge mass filling her pussy. She moved, impatient to have the entire bulk in her at once. Mark was working his organ into her socket slowly, tantalizingly, gradually stretching her tight clinging velvety walls with his engorged prick.
He loved the feel of her body engulfing his shaft. Her vagina was tight and soft, velvety and slick and hot. She felt small and vulnerable under him. Her skin was satiny smooth against his. Her clawing at his back was urging him on. As more and more of his cock felt the hot clinging embrace of her vagina, his lust soared higher and higher and higher.
When his cock was jammed completely into her, Mark paused. Pushing up off of her, he looked down at her. Her nipples were hard and sharp. His eyes traveled down to where his groin met hers, where his pubic hair tangled and mingled with hers. He drew his cock out of her, watched it slide into view. It was shining and wet. He thrust back into her, deep into her, watching his cock as it slowly vanished, a monstrous, spitting lance thrusting deep into her.
"Oh, Mark," Judy sighed. "Oh, fuck me, Mark, fuck me. Hard."
Mark drew back and rammed at her, hard, and Judy's lust soared as the monster phallus slammed against the end of her vagina. Her clit cracked in a haze of pleasure as his pubic arch smashed it.
When he lowered his weight on her she hugged him desperately, hungrily. Her hips surged and heaved in opposition to his every thrust, increasing the force and speed with which his towering phallus entered her hungry body. Bucking wildly under him, using the rebounding springs of the bed to increase the violence of their collisions, she dug her fingers into his powerful muscles, thrusting aside the sour memory of how much more powerful those muscles had been before disease had ravaged his kidneys.
Had he wanted to, Mark could have wrapped his arms around Judy's slender body and squeezed her ribs until they cracked. Instead, he hooked his arms under her shoulders, and gripped the sides of her head in his still powerful hands. His teeth clashed with hers as he tried to devour her. He rutted his cock into her with driving, pounding heaves.
He ignored the exhaustion that was already eating away at him. Impatient, desperate to raise her to her peak before his strength gave out, he rammed at her quickly, sharply. His own climax was drawing close, a hot, itching ball of fire that would erupt from his prick in blazing pulses. Every pumping drive of his hips lifted him one notch closer to the fiery convulsion of completion. The nerves of his cock became more and more sensitive, more and more inflamed as he pistoned it in the velvety, gripping well.
Judy's hips were twisting and jerking mindlessly. Her pelvis rocked, twisted, wringing her clit between his pubic bone and hers.
"Aww," she gasped. "Awwww, I'm cumming. Awww, let me have it. Have it. Have it. Aww, aaww, aw-aw-aw-aw-awwww."
Judy's slender body arched in a muscle-straining, joint-popping heave as her orgasm roared through her in a tidal wave of fiery pleasure.
Mark rammed deep into her, thrusting hard, trying to bore his cock completely into her.
Judy felt his cock pulsing deep inside her. Hot jolts of semen spattered the end of her vagina as his cock spewed forth its copious load. As her burning pleasure slowly faded to a delicious, aching memory, Judy milked his prick with her vagina. She clung to him, happily engulfed in his strong, masculine aroma.
The rigidity in his muscles departed abruptly. He was panting with exhaustion as he lay on top of her. He was completely limp. Judy cuddled his wasted body tenderly, fighting back her tears of fear and sorrow. At one time a session such as this would have been only a prelude to an insane night of lovemaking. At one time, both of them would have considered it a "quickie". But now it was an ordeal, as exhausting as it was fulfilling, and always left Mark bone weary and panting, burned out with exhaustion.
Judy held onto her lover desperately. She felt him start to roll off her and tightened her grip on him. He didn't understand, he had never understood, just how good it felt to have his full weight on her. He had always been afraid he was too heavy for her. No matter how often she told him, he couldn't believe she loved the desperate effort it took just to breathe when he was crushing her. And now, with her very life with him threatened, her determination to hold onto him, to keep his body on top of hers, to keep his cock in her vagina, was even greater.
She tightened her arms around him in an iron grip. She hooked her legs around his and clung to him desperately.
***
Judy blinked against the glare of the bright sunlight, then put on her dark glasses. She tried not to look at the unkempt lawn with its shaggy tussocks of grass and bobbing heads of dandelions going to seed. When it literally came down to a matter of life and death, a well-tended lawn was unimportant.
Her short skirt whipped around her bare thighs as she went briskly down the walk. She focused her mind entirely on the problem ahead of her. Her life had been reduced to hard-core basics. Everything she did, and everything Mark did, was aimed at one goal -- keeping him alive for another day, or week, or month, or, God willing, possibly a year or more.
One by one their avenues of escape had been cut off. It was almost as if some evil entity were thwarting them. When the disease had first attacked Mark's kidneys, there had been the possibility that the damage could be stopped before it went too far. When that hadn't happened, the doctors had mentioned the possibility that perhaps the damage wouldn't be permanent, that some fragments of those vital organs would regenerate and resume filtering the poisons out of his bloodstream. That hope had proved as false as the first. Mark's kidneys were gone, destroyed, totally incapable of performing their task.
For a time there had been the artificial kidney at the hospital. Hooked up to a stainless steel tank the size of a washing machine, Mark could survive. And his fate had been placed in the hands of the Committee. The cost of an artificial kidney meant that there could never be enough to serve all the patients who needed one. Some would live and some would die, and the Committee sat in judgment, playing God, deciding who was to receive the life-giving treatments and who wasn't.
In the end the bitter decision was that Mark was to be taken off. No reasons were given. Reasons were never given. Even the names of the people serving on the Committee were kept secret to protect them from pleading or harassment or bribery by desperate patients and families.
Since Mark and Judy couldn't afford a kidney machine, they had only one faint hope left. It was one of the factors considered by the Committee. The higher the possibility of a transplant being made, the more likely the patient was to get time on the kidney machine. But in Mark's case, the possibility of an acceptable transplant becoming available was minuscule. He possessed one of the rarest blood types, and had no living blood relatives. There seemed almost no chance that tissues could be matched closely enough to prevent rejection of a foreign organ.
It meant, for the rest of his life, being a slave to a machine that could filter his blood. And the dialysis unit at the hospital was available to him only a few more times, would give him only a few precious weeks of life.
Before then, they had to find some other solution. The only one left was a home dialysis unit, a machine like the hospital's, but of their own.
That was their final hope, and Judy was determined not to let it slip from their grasp. Somewhere, somehow, some way she had to come up with the money to buy the artificial kidney. Time was getting short. Mark had lost his job because of his increasing absences. It was all up to her.
Squaring her shoulders, she arranged a pillow on the back of the seat so she could reach the pedals, and slid behind the wheel of the shabby old car, ignoring the sharp point of the spring protruding from the frayed upholstery. In front of her, the needle of the speedometer stood stubbornly between the 30 and the 40. The bright sunlight seemed to be swallowed up by the dulled, rust-mottled hood.
With no skills and no training, Judy had been forced to struggle from one job to another. When it had become obvious that she was going to be the sole support for them, and the only possible source of money for the kidney machine, she had looked for a job where there was a possibility of earning a large amount of money rapidly. By working as a go-go dancer in the evenings, and going to classes during the day, she had managed to get a Real Estate Agent's license. A few small sales had freed her from her distasteful evening job -- just in time. Since business was bad, the owner of the night spot had been threatening to go topless and bottomless and have his dancers wait on tables that way.
It wasn't that Judy was ashamed of her body. Quite the opposite. She had always been proud of her petite figure. Barely five feet tall and never having gone over a hundred pounds, she was neat and trim, almost childish in shape. Gymnastics had hardened her and molded her into a series of trim, graceful curves, and sexual maturity had rounded her hips and filled out her breasts to graceful, feminine mounds. Judy had known that the bar was being dragged down into a seamy, sleazy twilight area between the legal and the illegal. Sooner or later the "table tending" was certain to have degenerated to "entertaining" the customers, first witn friendly conversation while their horny glances feasted on her, then physical contact, a reaching patting hand that wasn't to be discouraged. Eventually, it would have wound up in one of the back rooms.
Judy had quit as soon as she could.
But since those early successes, the real estate business had deteriorated. As the end of Mark's time on the kidney machine drew closer and closer, the listings of houses to be sold had fallen off. Just living had cut deeper and deeper into the painfully small, desperately accumulated savings.
Judy finally managed to get the car started. The inside fittings -- door handles and window cranks, rear view mirror, everything -- rattled. Carefully, she moved the shift lever to drive and eased the accelerator down. The decrepit automatic transmission lurched quickly through its repertoire until it reached high. As she pulled away from the curb, Judy could see the thick fog of oil smoke hanging in the air behind her.
So, Judy thought, she was now down to one last desperate gamble to keep Mark alive. She knew of a house, a mansion, really an estate, that might, just might, be going up for sale. If she succeeded in getting the owner to list it with her, she had a possible buyer for it.
She needed to get the listing, and make the sale. If she could pull it off, the commission would be enough to get a kidney machine. Nothing else mattered but the life-giving machine.
Hot gusts of air puffed through the hole in the rusted fire wall separating Judy from the engine and swirled up under her short skirt, bringing with it heat and the stink of burning oil. The hot blasts warmed the insides of her bare thighs, touched the crotch of her panties. As she drove toward the home of her potential client, she was desperate. The potential buyer was losing faith in her, threatening to go to some other agent to find the kind of house he wanted. Judy knew this estate wasn't exactly what the buyer wanted, but was desperately hoping she could convince him. But first she had to get the owner to decide to sell, and to decide to give her the listing.
CHAPTER TWO
In front of the impressive door of the house, Judy squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell. She nibbled nervously on her lower lip as she waited. The facade of the house was blank and uninformative -- not formidable or frightening, just unhelpful. The windows were like mirrors -- reflecting images of the immaculate lawns and shrubs.
The house was modern -- long and low, all on one floor. The color was a spotless white. The entrance where Judy waited was set exactly in the center of the front of the house. The door was a huge slab of wood, four feet wide. The fixtures were brass -- simple, well-polished, and expensive.
The wait for her ring to be answered increased Judy's nervousness. She wished she was certain of the time. Her watch had quit working and she couldn't afford to have it fixed.
Reluctantly, she pressed the rectangular ivory button a second time.
There was a sound and Judy fought the urge to step back another pace. Determinedly, she held her ground as the door swung open.
"Good morning, Mrs. Penncroft."
Judy took in the man's robe, his dark hair plastered flat on his head with water. Had he just been in the shower? "I'm sorry," she stuttered, "I thought you said..."
"I did," he assured her calmly, his voice, a baritone, giving the impression of restrained power. "Please, come in, Mrs. Penncroft."
"If it's inconvenient, Mr. Shein, I could come back later?" Judy suggested timidly, mentally berating herself for her shyness, and for getting off to such a bad beginning.
"Now is convenient," he said decisively. "Come in. I was just enjoying my morning workout. We can talk when I finish it."
"Is-Is Mrs. Shein here?" Judy asked. She followed the man reluctantly, having the feeling that the entire visit was getting off to a disastrous start. She had never been comfortable with Steven Shein. In spite of his physical size, only about five foot six, something about him was intimidating. He had a raw power about him that had always made her nervous.
"My wife is out for the day," he answered, leading the way to the glass doors that opened out on the pool and the deck.
Adding to Judy's discomfort was the sight of Mr. Shein's bare calves below the knee-length robe. Thick curling black hair was plastered against his well-tanned skin. His powerful muscles flexed with every step.
"Maybe I should come back some other time?" Judy ventured again.
Mr. Shein slid the glass door open, stood aside, and motioned Judy through. "Might as well talk with me right now," he replied. "Paula will go along with any decision I make."
Judy blinked against the glare and tumbled to get her dark glasses out. The house, built in the shape of a horseshoe, perched on a steep hillside. The open end hung out over a void.
"Help yourself to some coffee," Mr. Shein suggested. "I have only a few more laps to go." He waved her toward a coffeepot on a table off to one side.
"Uh, thank you." Judy hoped having coffee would give her an opportunity to regain her composure. The fine bone china cup clinked softly on the saucer from the shaking of her hand. A loud splash from the pool almost made her drop it. She carefully focused her attention on adding sugar and cream, then turned toward the sound of Mr. Shein sprinting the length of the pool.
Coffee scalded her thumb as the cup lurched, spilling the hot liquid. Judy wrenched her eyes away from the swimmer, trying not to stare. Then she couldn't help it, and looked again.
He was naked. His discarded robe lay on a lounge near the pool. His buttocks, hard and muscled, rolled slightly with every powerful arm pull, flexed strongly with every kick. Those hard globes of muscle were only slightly less tan than the strong shoulders and back. It was obvious he often "worked out" in the nude.
Judy's hand was shaking, making the cup rattle loudly. She looked around for some escape, and found none. She wanted to leave, but didn't dare. Her potential customer had made it clear he wanted her to stay. If she left now she would lose all chance for a sale -- and the kidney machine.
Still shaking, she perched nervously on the edge of the lounge. She tried not to stare at the naked man as he swam but failed. Her eyes tracked him steadily from one end of the pool to the other. His quick, efficient racing turns at the end of each lap sent a glittering shower of water high in the air and displayed a quick flash of trim ass.
Somehow sensing that he was almost finished, Judy set her cup down and picked up his robe. She wanted to head him off, to keep him from getting out of the pool and walking straight toward her to get it.
He touched the end of the pool and stood up smoothly. The edge of the pool cut just above his groin -- all Judy could see was his bare muscular torso. Desperately, she advanced on him, the robe extended ahead of herself like a shield.
Mr. Shein placed his palms on the edge of the pool. Just before she got to him, he vaulted smoothly out. A wave of cool water sloshed across the deck, soaking Judy's feet, making her dance awkwardly and ineffectively in an attempt to keep her sandals dry.
"Thanks, but I'm not done yet," he informed her, brushing the robe aside. Picking up a towel, he quickly dried his face. He seemed oblivious of his nudity.
Judy wasn't. She tried to keep from looking at the man, but couldn't. He was solid muscle. Thick black hair coated his body. His relaxed cock was short and stubby. Even limp it had an impressive diameter. Its skin was dark, its head a dusky purple.
Judy wrenched her eyes away, hoping he hadn't noticed her staring. Clutching the robe tightly in both hands, she went back to the lounge where she had left her coffee. Picking up the cup and saucer she turned her back.
"Now -- what was it -- exactly -- that you -- wanted?" Mr. Shein huffed between exercises.
"I wanted to ask you to list your house with me," Judy stuttered.
"Sorry -- I can't -- hear you," he responded.
Judy bit her lip and turned around. Her eyes focused immediately on his cock where it dangled below him as he did push-ups. The muscles in his arms, back and shoulders flexed powerfully as he dipped toward the deck, then rose smoothly. She repeated what she had said about getting the listing. She was feeling hot inside, and her legs were suddenly very shaky.
Judy's discomfort was anything but eased when her client stopped exercising and turned to sit facing her, his legs spread and his arms hooked around his knees. Her gaze went straight up between his legs to where his cock and balls nestled between his thick, hairy thighs.
"You think that I am interested in selling this house?" Mr. Shein asked.
Judy knew he had seen where she was looking and flushed. "You are, aren't you? You indicated the other day that you were."
"That I might be," he corrected, lying flat on his back on the deck and putting his hands behind his head, "if the price is right."
"But..."
"Would you hold my feet?" he asked, interrupting her.
"I'd rather..."
"I still have to do my sit-ups," he informed her. "Just hold my feet."
Judy took a tight grip on herself. She had to have this listing! All the man had asked was for her to help him do his exercises. If being nude in front of her didn't bother him, why should it bother her? She knelt on the deck, the hard concrete bruising and scraping her knees. Hesitantly, she leaned forward and gripped the man's ankles. His skin felt warm. Her eyes focused on his bare groin. His cock was rolled slightly to one side over the lumps of his balls. Droplets of water still gleamed in the thick, black bush of pubic hair.
"If the price is right," Mr. Shein repeated as he began his sit-ups. "Paula and I bought this place two years ago for a half a million."
"I know," Judy responded, trying to force her eyes away from his penis, and not succeeding. She felt a trickle of sweat start down from the base of her throat toward the valley between her breasts. She was suddenly conscious of her lack of a bra and her nipples stiffened.
"How much do you think it is worth now?" the man asked, his head sweeping up, then down as he forced it to touch his knees.
It was a jolt when Judy realized he could look straight down the neckline of her blouse and see her gently swaying, naked breasts.
"W-well over a million," she muttered. Her eyes were still glued to Steven Shein's cock. It seemed to be swelling and expanding.
"Minimum a million and a half," he informed her.
Judy tried to figure some way to cut off his view of her breasts. She tried hunching her shoulders and bringing her arms close together, then realised that only opened the neckline of her blouse further while pressing her breasts inward, deepening the hollow between them.
"I can get it for you," she assured him, trying to keep her mind on business. His cock was getting harder and larger, sliding sideways as it stiffened and lifted. Judy gulped.
"Not enough," Shein panted.
"What?" Judy asked. The man's cock was becoming monstrous. It lay across one thigh now, a massive lump of gristle, pulsing and still expanding.
"Any broker in town can get me a million and a half," Shein countered.
Judy felt his breath on her face as he swept past her. She wanted to use one hand or arm to conceal her breasts, but her hands weren't big enough to use just one of them to hold his ankles.
"I might -- maybe two million," Judy stammered.
It was a relief when he stopped doing sit-ups and sat, leaning back on his arms. Judy released his ankles and sat back gratefully. Her blouse brushed the tips of her breasts, making the excited nipples burn. She tore her eyes off Shein's powerful, pulsing erection and tried to meet his bold gaze.
"Better," he conceded, "if you're telling the truth. But I imagine there are other agents that could match that."
Judy was getting frustrated. She was promising him four times what he had paid for the house. She thought she might be able to get it from her potential customer. She knew no other agent in town would risk sticking his neck out with an offer like that. She didn't dare suggest a higher figure. "Mr. Shein, I..."
"Let's go swimming," he said abruptly, getting easily to his feet.
Judy struggled upward awkwardly. "I don't have a suit," she pointed out.
"Neither do I," Shein said matter-of-factly. He reached for the front of her blouse.
"Mr. Shein, please," Judy protested, backing away.
"You'd be surprised how a nice swim will put a different complexion on things," he insisted, reaching for her buttons.
"Mr. Shein!" Judy exclaimed, gripping his wrists.
His eyes met hers. There suddenly was an unrelenting hardness in his gaze. "Mrs. Penncroft?"
Judy knew exactly what he was saying with just those two words. Right here, and right now, she could lose the listing before she even had it. Did he know how desperately she needed the money?
"All-all right," she agreed reluctantly, easing her grip on his powerful wrists.
"I thought you'd see things my way," he said confidently. His strong fingers deftly freed her buttons.
Judy hung her head in shame and let him strip her blouse off her. She was agonizingly conscious of her small, firm breasts and their sharp tips. The man's all-over tan made her painfully aware of the paleness of her breasts.
He unfastened her skirt, eased it over the swell of her hips and dropped it around her ankles. The top edge of her panties cut low on the gentle swell of her belly. They were nearly transparent, showing the dark mat of her pubic triangle. Her faint hope he would leave her with at least that shred of modesty vanished when he hooked his thumbs under the elastic. He hauled the tiny panties down. As he knelt in front of her there was no hint of subservience in the pose. Efficiently, he stripped her last covering down to her ankles, then held them and her skirt with one hand while he lifted her feet free of the tangle. Then her sandals were unbuckled and he was standing in front of her.
Judy cupped a hand demurely over her sex, crossed an arm across her breasts. She let her head hang, conscious of the air touching her boldly all over, even more conscious of the hot eyes raking over her bare body. "Mr. Shein, I..." Judy started, ready to plead for the listing.
His hand closed around the wrist at her crotch, dragging that feeble cover away from her dark shy triangle. "A swim," he insisted, pulling her toward the water.
Judy tottered after him to the edge of the pool. His grip on her arm was tight and hard as steel. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the bobbing bludgeon of his aroused, monster cock.
Without releasing her, he walked directly off the edge of the pool, pulling her in with him. The water blasted over Judy, splashing her face as her feet jarred hard against the bottom of the pool. The sudden chill after the merciless hot glare of the sun made her suck in a gasp of air. The icy liquid cut deep into her uncovered pussy, splattered her chest and back. A tug on her wrist as Steven Shein leaned forward dragged Judy with him. Then he released her. Gamely, Judy struck out alongside him, figuring that was what he wanted. The cool water swept over her whole body. Tickling cool currents brushed intimately over her naked skin. As she kicked, bold eddies explored her sex and her ass.
As they swam from one end of the pool to the other, Judy was conscious of the power of the man beside her. From time to time his bare skin would brush hers, an arm, hip, or leg that would feel scalding hot in comparison with the cool pool.
Her hand touched the end of the pool and Judy stopped swimming, and let her legs swing under her. As Steven Shein floated languidly beside her, she hooked her elbows over the edge of the pool, pressed her front defensively against the cool, smooth concrete. She twisted her head at the touch of a hand on the back of her neck, teasing her short black hair. Every swaying kick of her feet sent a fresh wave of cool water into the heart of her sex, reminding her of her nudity. Her nipples felt like rocks trapped against the side of the pool.
"You're an accomplished swimmer, Mrs. Penncroft," he observed.
The use of her married name reminded Judy of Mark, their marriage, all that they had, all that they meant to each other. She felt a surge of horror at what was happening, what she was doing. It also reminded her of why she was here, how badly she needed the money. She stopped trying to wriggle away from his caress.
"You were an Olympic gymnast, I believe?" he noted.
"Just an alternate."
"I admire people who take the time to keep their bodies in good condition," he went on. "Can you do the backstroke?"
"Mr. Shein, I..."
"Backstroke," he insisted. "A race. I'll give you a head start. If you win, you get the listing. If I win... well, we'll see about the listing."
"Mr. Shein!" Judy protested.
"On your mark," he commanded.
"But..."
"Get set," he continued relentlessly. He had taken his hand from the back of her neck and was assuming a starting position -- legs folded, feet firmly against the wall, hands gripping the gutter. His arms bunched as he coiled himself for the start.
Desperately, Judy whipped into a tight ball of muscle, somehow knowing he meant exactly what he said. "Go." Judy's body uncoiled as she let go of the gutter, arched her spine backward and pushed off from the wall. Water sheeted over her face as she took her first powerful stroke, then her vision cleared and she flailed her way toward the shallow end.
She saw the spray of Steven Shein's start and pulled still harder. She could see the whipping arch of his hands. Each stroke sent a glittering arching spray of water high in the air. She kicked harder, trying to put more whip into the motion of her feet, trying to remember instructions received years ago from her swimming coach.
God, the man was fast! His head was already even with her waist, his arms flinging water in her face at every stroke. Judy flailed desperately, cursing that he had chosen the backstroke -- always her worst stroke.
Then he was even with her and Judy could see his face. He was watching her insolently. He wasn't even having to work hard to stay even with her!
Judy suddenly noticed the way her taut breasts were rolling and bobbing on the surface, in full view. She lost her rhythm and floundered for a moment, which gave him half a yard advantage on her. She regained her poise and pulled harder, but couldn't catch up.
Suddenly the explosive splashing of his kick stopped. It had been the only thing she had been able to see. Just as she twisted her head to look for him, a hand closed on her outstretched arm. Her fingers brushed the end of the pool. Then she was swept up against him, and her back came up against his heaving, hairy chest. Before she could get her feet under her his arm was around her, and his hand was cupping her breast. She fought against his intimate grasp, but it was futile.
"Tut-tut, Mrs. Penncroft," he chided her. "It was a perfectly fair race."
Heat flooded through Judy from the man's bold, possessive touch on her bare breast. She could feel his cock nuzzling her buttocks insolently and tried to squirm away from it. "Please..."
"I happen to know just how badly you want this listing," Mr. Shein informed her, "and why."
Judy relaxed in his arms. She was cursing the way her body was reacting. Something about the hard, hot hairy, muscular man behind her, the rough touch of his hands on her bare breasts and belly, and the cool water, all were conspiring to send her passions soaring.
"I am interested in selling my house, Mrs. Penncroft," Steven Shein went on, sliding one hand down her belly. His fingers pressed into the warm hairy tangle of her pussy. He probed her hot, slick, excited vaginal opening. "As a matter of fact, I would even accept a lowly million and a half for it. It so happens I need the cash right now. However, as I said, any broker in town can get me a million and a half for it. If you are to get the listing, the exclusive listing, you are going to have to offer some additional incentive."
Judy remained silent.
"Let's see," Mr. Shein murmured softly. "The commission for a sale on a million and a half is -- uhm -- around fifteen thousand. Add to that the commission you could get from a buyer, and you have a nice round thirty thousand dollars."
Judy was a little amazed at the research the man had done.
"And, as I recall, the cost of a home kidney machine happens to come to a nice, neat, even, thirty thousand dollars," Steven Shein finished smoothly.
Judy had let her thighs drift open as he drilled his finger into her pussy. His probing had admitted a wash of exciting, cool water to her sensitive, burning tissues. She felt her stomach muscles writhing excitedly. His hand on her neatly rounded breast was firm and confident. He pinched and twisted her nipple expertly. His cock was nuzzling into the crack of her ass like a small animal burrowing after a reward.
Judy tried to excuse her behavior by reminding herself what the money was for. If she didn't get the machine for Mark, he would be gone forever in a few short weeks.
And, Steven Shein wasn't an unattractive man, either. Which thought made what was going to happen seem worse.
The aroused man controlled Judy's petite body as easily as if she were a doll. Swinging her around, he hooked his arms under her knees and shoulders and lifted. With insolent ease, he sloshed up the steps in the corner of the pool, Judy in his arms.
With a whimper of misery, Judy pressed her face against his chest. She felt the hot sun burning the water off her pale bare skin as he carried her across the deck. Then she was lowered to the lounge, spread on her back in the harsh glaring sunlight.
Over her, a shadowy, menacing presence, stood Steven Shein, his face invisible because of the glare of the sun. Painfully visible, however, was the huge shaft of his erect phallus, jutting out from his thick pubic bush. Judy closed her eyes.
Shein stood over the small woman, his eyes devouring her bare beauty. Her small, slender, graceful body made his mouth water. The pale bikini stripes across her heightened his interest in her. She lay on her back, one knee bent, concealing nothing from him. The dark brush of her pussy seemed to almost tug at his cock from a distance -- it was like a magnet pulling at him.
Bending over her, he closed his hands over the soft mounds of her breasts. Her skin was cool from the swim and satin smooth. Her nipples burrowed into his palms as he mashed the fleshy globes against her graceful ribs.
"Aaaahhh," Judy moaned softly as fire washed through her. She knew she shouldn't be enjoying this, but knew, too, that she was going to. Her head rolled with building excitement, her fingers curled.
Releasing one of Judy's breasts, he reached down and touched the inside of her knee. Gently, he pushed outward, spreading her leg to expose more of her pussy. Huddled far down between her graceful thighs, deep in the heart of her black bush, nestled in the crevice between her pouting, full labia, was a flash of exciting pink flesh. His probing finger had already told him that her vagina was almost virginal -- much tighter and hotter than his wife's.
He stroked the back of his fingers down the silken flesh on the inside of her thigh. Reaching her pussy, he spread her labia carefully. Her inner folds were a brilliant pink, shining wet, slick and juicy. The bud of her clitoris gleamed like a pearl in the bright sunlight. After coating his finger with her juices, he gently teased that nerve-loaded button.
"Wwaaahhh," Judy moaned at the sparkling blue sky. Her toes tensed, her hips rolled and twisted. Fire was slashing through her sun-baked flesh as she lay naked and unprotesting under the man's insolent explorations. "Aaawww," she moaned again as her lust soared higher. She tried to tell herself that she was impatient for him to get it over with, but knew that wasn't really it. She wanted his cock in her, deep inside her, that was what she was impatient for. She reached out blindly and found the hard, hot shaft. A burning drop of slippery fluid seared her fingers as she curled them around the knob-head of Shein's hard pulsing prick. She stroked the powerful, heavy cylinder, trying to build his excitement, encouraging him to thrust his prick into her belly.
The woman fondling Shein's cock was writhing like an animal in the bright sunlight. His hands looked brown and hard and brutal against her soft, pale flesh. One hand still engulfed one of her breasts. A pert, pink nipple peeked out from between his pinching fingers. He diddled the steaming folds of her weeping pussy with the fingers of his other hand. Her slick secretions had coated his fingers. Her hot milking grip around his thrumming, ready prick was lifting him higher and higher.
Finally, Steven Shein lowered himself onto the petite real estate agent. The aluminum and plastic of the lounge groaned as his weight was added to hers. Her skin felt like satin against his hairy body.
Judy spread her thighs wide as he came down on her. She kept hold of his cock until she had nestled its head at the opening to her ready vagina. Then she awkwardly pulled her hand from between them and clutched his hard, muscular back. She heaved her hips up in an attempt to get the cock she needed so desperately into her.
Judy's pussy embraced the sensitive head of Steven Shein's cock like a velvet glove. Thrilled with the hot, gripping tightness of her tunnel, he eased his phallus into her with gentle, careful pumps of his hips. She was tight, deliciously, delectably tight, a hot clinging sheath of living flesh embracing his stocky cock. He could feel wisps of wiry pubic hair scratching the skin of his shaft as he eased it into her.
"Aaaawww, fuck me," Judy moaned, wrapping her legs around his muscular hips and urging him deeper. She spurred him on with her heels, urging him further into her hot, hungry hole. "Fuck me," she whispered. Her animal lust had burned away all of her hesitations and inhibitions. All that mattered now was reaching that wonderful, burning peak of pleasure.
Shein was grinning ferociously, his muscles knotting as he bored his explosively swollen prick into the hot, willing, eager body under him. He clutched her firm flesh with his powerful fingers as he pistoned his cock into her eager pussy.
Judy was heaving and jerking under him, her hips lifting and driving against his thrusts. His pubic arch smashed against hers, pulverizing her clitoris into a patch of fiery pleasure. She clawed at his broad tanned back, kicked his muscular working buttocks with her heels, to spur him deeper, then pushed her feet against the lounge in an attempt to raise her pelvis higher. The rivets and joints of the lounge squealed in protest at the pounding action. The enclosed pool deck rang with the slapping, heaving, panting, gasping, juicy sounds of their linking.
"Aaww, awww, awwww, I'm cum -- I'm cum-minggg," Judy gasped. Her athletic young body arched clear off the lounge as she climaxed.
With an animal whoop of pleasure, Steven Shein slammed his cock deep into the straining body under him, and rode out her violent orgasmic bucking. His own cumming was hanging barely out of reach as he brought her off in a gush of juices so copious that they drenched their tangled pubic bushes.
"Aaaahhhh," Judy sighed, her muscles relaxing as her orgasm faded away. She lay limp under Shein, fighting for breath. It wasn't until he began to move again that she realized that he hadn't yet climaxed. She lay on her back, dazed, feeling his huge phallus pistoning and squashing in her fulfilled vagina. She was too exhausted to do anything other than just lie there limp, taking his powerful, demanding thrusts. Then suddenly, she was roaring up that searing slope of pleasure again.
Steven Shein heaved his cock into the lax body under him, pounding his shaft into her. His head nestled in the curve of her neck, he rammed his hungry phallus into her clinging sheath again and again and again. He felt her breasts mash flat against his unforgiving chest, felt her nipples burning into his skin. He was aware of her pubic bush scrubbing against his, her sleek, smooth thighs rubbing against his hard hairy ones. It all added up to an incredible symphony of sexual sensations, a blazing orchestration that was building toward a crashing carnal finale.
He heaved and thrust and felt the fire explode outward from his groin. Ripping pulses of thick semen spattered deep in the heart of Judy Penncroft's body as he poured his load into her. His body knotted and strained as he speared her guts with his spouting tool.
"Aaaaawwww," Judy wailed. She felt limp as an old dishrag as a second orgasm blazed through her. She felt every quiver of the cock convulsing in her vagina and instinctively milked the pulsing, pumping organ with her muscular channel.
Then the pulsing inside her slowly died away, and Judy's pleasure faded. As her lust went away, nausea and disgust at what she had just done filled her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought back tears of shame. Her vagina seemed to snap shut as the man climbed off her, his dripping cock spraying her thighs with their mixed juices. She didn't get up from the lounge until she heard him dive into the water.
On shaking legs, Judy stood up. She felt sweaty, soiled and filthy. For a moment she debated, then decided it would make little difference now. She went to the edge of the pool and executed a smooth, graceful dive into the cool, refreshing water. She swam the length of the pool and back, twisting and turning to cleanse her body of the lust-sweat and cum, then hauled herself out onto the hot deck. After dying herself with Steven Shein's towel, she dressed. Then she took the listing agreement from her purse and filled in the blanks.
Shein stopped swimming. Standing in the shallows, his limp cock looking rippled and strange through the water, he took the agreement and the pen from her. His signature was as bold as his gaze.
"Thanks," he said shortly, handing the signed agreement back to her.
"I'll find my own way out," she responded coolly.
Judy didn't start to shake until she was sitting behind the wheel of the car. Then she leaned forward and rested her head on the cracked steering wheel and shook. Finally she regained her composure.
Now, to make it all worthwhile, she had to get the buyer.
***
Judy was relieved to find the brokerage office unoccupied. She deliberately left the blinds drawn and re-locked the door so she wouldn't be bothered. A note on her desk told her none of the other agents would be in. With a weary sigh, she sank down on her chair. A sticky, wet coldness in her panties made her shudder. She was oozing thick, gooey cum. Steven Shein's cum.
She decided not to do anything about it. The discomfort seemed a just punishment for her whoring. And that was exactly what it was, she told herself -- whoring. She had debased herself, used her body for material gain. It was no better than what she would have had to do if she had kept her job at the bar.
She reminded herself of the reason for what she had done. It had been necessary. It was a matter of life and death. Yes, she had used her body, and yes, she had been unfaithful to her husband. But, it hadn't been her idea, it had been Shein's.
Still, she had done what she had done.
The only thing she could comfort herself with was her ultimate purpose. She had improved Mark's chances of survival. There was an uncomfortable "Catch 22" aura to the situation she found herself in. To save her husband's life, she had to be unfaithful to him. To save her marriage, she had to break her marriage vows.
Judy rubbed her forehead, fighting a headache. She consoled herself with the idea that she wouldn't have to be unfaithful again. Steven Shein had admitted he was eager to sell, that he needed the cash. And she had his signature on the listing agreement, which was binding. In the acres of fine print there were ways he could wriggle out of the agreement, but they weren't simple. He could, of course, reject any of the offers she got on his property, but it wasn't likely he would. Not if, as he said, he really needed the money.
Judy's next task was to convince the potential buyer. The sooner she managed that, the better. Technically, she was an employee of the agency. Technically, the listing agreement and her employment contract bound her to share the listing with the other employees of the agency. She was entitled to the seller's commission, less a percentage to the agency. If someone else found a buyer for Shein's house, they would get the buyer's commission.
Judy needed both commissions. So, it meant breaking the agency's rule. She slipped the listing agreement under a stack of yellow legal pads in the bottom drawer of her desk. Then, instead of filling out one of the five-by-eight cards that went into the central listing file, she reached for the telephone. If she moved juickly enough on arranging the sale, she might get away with it.
If she was found out, she would probably lose her job. She would certainly lose all rights to any commissions from the deal.
"Mr. Andrew McCarter, please," she said to the telephone. "Mr. McCarter, this is Judy Penncroft of the Calder Agency. I believe I have just what you want." She nodded. "It's not exactly what you specified, but I think when you see it, you'll like it." She nodded again. "The seller is asking more, but I'm sure we can talk him down to a million and a half." Patiently, Judy nodded again. "I know, I know that is more than you mentioned -- not that much more, though. I'm sure that you'll feel it's worth the extra money. It's an exclusive listing."
"When can you see it?" Judy swore quietly to herself. "I'll have to get back to you about when... Yes, I'm sorry I can't arrange it immediately... The seller insists on an appointment. I'll be right back in touch with you, Mr. McCarter. Thank you."
"Shit!" Judy said loudly after hanging up the receiver. She had completely forgotten to arrange with Shein about showing the house, she had been so flustered when she had left him. Now she was going to have to call him. The last thing she wanted to do was talk with him.
Grimly, she picked up the receiver and dialed the Shein's number.
"Mr. Shein, this is Mrs. Penncroft," she announced, deliberately being formal and distant.
"No, I am not calling to arrange another morning workout," she informed him icily. "I'm calling to arrange to show your house to a buyer I have in mind. When would be convenient?"
Judy flushed pink, then her knuckles whitened as her grip on the phone tightened. "Mr. Shein, I have already given you that particular form of kickback. I would appreciate it if, from now on, you would keep our relationship on a suitable businesslike basis. Now, when may I show the buyer the house?"
Judy started to make a note on her desk calendar, then changed her mind. She didn't want to leave written evidence of what she was doing right out on her desk top. After carefully writing on a note pad, she tore the sheet of paper off.
"Thank you, Mr. Shein. You'll leave the key where? Thank you."
Judy sighed with relief after hanging up, then quickly dialed again.
"Mr. McCarter? Judy Penncroft again. The seller will be out of town tomorrow afternoon and the house will be empty. May I pick you up at your office about one o'clock...? Very good, I'll see you tomorrow at one."
After hanging up, Judy fiddled nervously with the note. Then she folded it carefully in half and put it in her purse. Then she slumped down in the chair, totally exhausted. She had known when she had set out that morning it was going to be a difficult day. But it had become even more nerve-wracking than expected.
As Judy slumped at her desk, her elbows pushing the blotter slowly across the polished wood, she became aware of the thick odor of sex that was drifting up from her crotch. Instead of finding the aroma exciting the way she usually did, it made her feel sick. She got up and went into the small washroom, and carefully locked the door. She hauled her soggy panties down and off. Tossing the scrap of nylon in the sink, she turned on the hot water. While they were soaking she dampened a paper towel and hauled her skirt up to expose her pussy. The hair was matted and stringy with partially dried cum. Brisk scrubbing separated the twisted coils of curly pubic hair and left it bushy and resilient.
The rubbing and stroking triggered a perverse wave of sexual excitement. She remembered the feel of Steven Shein's stocky, sturdy cock in her vagina and bit her lip. She hated to admit, even to herself, that she had enjoyed the encounter.
After wiping the pale smooth flesh on the insides of her thighs clear of cum, Judy wadded up the paper towel. The lid of the trash container banged and clattered. After rinsing out her panties, Judy hung them over the light to dry and went back out to the empty office. If someone did happen to come in, which wasn't likely, she could make a quick dash for the washroom and retrieve her panties.
Pacing the office only increased Judy's awareness of her pantiless state. Cool air touched her swollen tissues, reminding her of the caress of the cool water during her nude swim that morning. She became aware of the exciting silken friction between her thighs, and remembered the hard, scratchy feel of Steven Shein between those same soft thighs.
Judy tried to control the surge of sexual excitement her memories brought. She stared out at the sunlit street. It had been a fluke, and it wasn't going to happen again. She had never been unfaithful to Mark before, and she wouldn't ever be again. Even as ill as he was, he was all the man she needed, she told herself.
But God, Shein's massive cock had felt good pistoning in and out of her hot hole. It had been big, and delicious, and exciting.
If Mark ever heard about what she had done, it would kill him. Disgusted with herself for dwelling on what had happened, and enjoying the reliving of it, Judy turned away from the window and went to get her panties. It was going to be a strain to go home and face Mark and act as if nothing had happened, but she had to do exactly that. After the fourth senseless circuit of the office to straighten something that didn't need straightening, Judy took a firm grip on herself and made it out the door.
Perversely, this time the old car started on the first try. Leaving the usual stinging blue cloud of oil behind her, Judy headed for home.
CHAPTER THREE
"Judy? How'd it go?"
Even though she had been expecting her husband's question, Judy hesitated for a split second. She had never lied to Mark before. "Oh, all right. I got the listing, just as I expected."
But not the way I expected, she added silently to herself.
She suddenly noticed the faint gleam of sweat on her husband's face. So soon? Was it starting again so soon? "How are you, darling?" she asked softly, bending over to give him a kiss. She caught his faint, distinctive odor -- the smell of a body slowly going sour.
"Can't kick," he replied, half seriously.
Judy frowned. "Your knees again?"
Mark grinned tightly, humorlessly. "My knees, my ankles, my hips, my shoulders, my elbows. Hell, even my toes hurt."
Judy settled down in his lap and cuddled him tenderly. "Oh, Mark," she said miserably. "Maybe we should call and reschedule your appointment?"
"And lop another half a week off my life?"
Judy winced. "With the listing I got today, if I line up the buyer, too, that'll do it."
"Think it'll all pan out?"
"It has to," she said quickly.
"I don't know how you think you're going to do it," he commented innocently.
Judy lurched guiltily, then snuggled against him, ignoring the clammy coldness of his skin. "Just be the best damn real estate agent in town."
"And how many hours of work is that going to take?" he asked. "Judy, I want you with me as much as possible. We don't have much time together left."
Judy stiffened, angry. His defeatist attitude rankled. He was talking as if she was sure to lose him.
"Mark, I'm working so we'll have each other forever," she argued.
"The vows said 'Til death us do part', nothing more," he reminded her. "Death separates everyone sooner or later. In our case it's going to be sooner."
"No sooner than necessary." She glared at him. "What's gotten into you? You've never been a quitter."
"I'm not quitting, I'm being quit," Mark replied sourly. "I'm not pulling the plug, God and that damned Committee are pulling the plug."
Judy surged up out of his lap, furious. "Nobody's pulling the plug on you," she snapped. "I don't know why God has done what He's done, that's His business. As for the Committee, they made what seems to them to be the best decision." She was pacing furiously back and forth in front of him. "As for us, we are not giving up. I am not giving up, and you are not giving up. I am not going to let you give up. We are going to fight and keep fighting until we get a dialysis machine!"
And what I went through for you today is not going to be for nothing, she thought bitterly.
Mark slumped wearily. The sweat was thicker on his forehead. It was forming shining beads. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he apologized weakly. "I guess the damn, damn itching is getting to me."
Judy felt a surge of sympathy for him, but no regret for her outburst. She knew it was getting harder and harder for him to fight, and she had to keep him going, any way she could. Of all the symptoms of his disease, the worst was the itching. He described it as a creepy, crawling sensation just under his skin, as if the flesh was softening and melting away.
"Why don't you go get undressed?" she said softly. "I'll run a bath for you, then I can give you a rubdown."
"Okay, honey," he sighed, hauling himself up out of the chair.
Judy watched him leave the room, then slumped down in the chair herself. She covered her face with her hands and rubbed her eyes wearily. If she had been the crying type, she would have cried. Before all this had started, Mark had been brave and powerful and strong. Bit by vicious bit he was being eaten away by the dread disease. His physical strength had rapidly vanished, and now his courage was fading, too.
She knew, she had learned, that dialysis patients had the highest suicide rate in the country. Forever dependent on a stainless steel tank full of cellophane-like tubes and membranes, they suffered the tortures of the damned as poisons accumulated in their bloodstreams. The plastic tubes piercing their arms itched and ached, the skin around them ulcerated and tore no matter how careful they were. The plastic shunts constantly had to be repaired and replaced.
Added to that was the unending expense -- three hundred dollars a treatment, one or two treatments a week. And for Mark, because of his rare blood type, there was the additional problem of finding the blood needed to prime the machine.
With a sigh, Judy got up. At times, she felt almost as weary and beaten as her husband did. But, she couldn't give up -- she wouldn't give up. This morning she had taken a step toward saving him. It had been a step downward, true. But she had done it, and she was glad she had.
Mark was nude when he came into the bathroom. Judy steadied him with one hand as he stepped into the cool water. She carefully avoided noting how much more of his muscle tone had melted away. But she couldn't avoid eyeing his cock and mentally comparing it with Steven Shein's. Mark's was longer when limp, though slightly smaller in diameter.
The way it bobbed and weaved as he lowered himself into the water brought a brilliant memory of Shein's cock rolling and twisting during the impromptu backstroke race.
"Feel good?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the tub.
"Aaaahhh," Mark sighed. His knees pushed up out of the water as he slid down and immersed his torso. He threw her a grateful look. "You're getting your skirt wet," he pointed out.
Judy glanced down. "Doesn't matter, it needs washing anyway."
"I'm sorry I'm falling apart," he apologized. "I know you're tryi
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