Synopsis: Jim's having second thoughts about his impulsive agreeing to become a partner in Satin Studios, mainly because of two strangers, men with many gangster characteristics who had attended Jim's first board meeting.
Carol gave him his first assignment. He (and Bette) were to recruit another attractive couple to join the Satin Studio swing parties. They have invited Sandra and Jeff to dinner.
*****
After returning with the drinks -- wine for Sandy, a liqueur for Jeff, and highballs for Bette and me -- I pulled a footstool next to Sandy's chair. We held hands, enjoying our closeness, while Jeff and Bette became reacquainted. It looked as if my treatment had worked, because Jeff was looking at Bette as if he had never before seen a female of the species. She, on the other hand, probably remembering my account of his foray into bisexuality, seemed determined to convert him forever to the ranks of devoted heterosexuals. It was almost funny.
She gave him the full treatment, guided by the same instinct that had prodded Louise. I smiled, thinking how things had come a full circle. Still, it was exciting to watch her skirt "accidentally" fall open to reveal a narrow strip of white skin above the stocking top on her left thigh. Jeff couldn't seem to make up his mind whether to watch her skirt or her beautifully tempting breasts so openly revealed under her dress.
I chatted with Sandy. She looked good. Except for her brief miniskirt, she was dressed more modestly than Bette, and I wondered if she were wearing panties. Her face was innocent of makeup except for a touch of lipstick. She lacked the lush sexuality that Bette projected, but her beautiful silvery blonde hair perfectly framed her lovely face. I never tired of watching her classic beauty.
We told the Morrisons about our weekend at Satin Studios, deliberately omitting, by unspoken agreement, any mention of Louise and Phil's new careers as movie stars. Sandy's eyes never left my face as we described the studio and my role in it.
I wasn't surprised by Jeff's reaction. Although he seemed mesmerized by Bette's tiny figure, he asked, "You mean in a group scene, anything goes?"
I nodded. "Just about," I said. I told them about the orgy and a rampant cock that had seemed determined to pillage my mouth while Corrine was conferring the same favor on me. I'm not proud of it, but it showed my state of mind when I mentioned that incident as a cynical attempt to appeal to Jeff's latent interest in bisexuality.
Frankly, I was afraid that if we were entirely candid, Jeff's conservative streak might cause him to balk. However, I also felt that if we were once able to persuade them to sample the sexual smorgasbord we had enjoyed over the weekend, it would be safe to lay our cards on the table.
We extended Steve and Carol's invitation. "I don't know," Sandy said, "what about the baby?"
Jeff said, "What about my mother?"
Sandy looked doubtfully at Jeff. "Do you think it would be fair to ask her again, so soon?"
Jeff laughed. His eyes now fixed on Bette's spectacular bosom, he said, "Jeffie is her only grandson. She loves to look after him."
"Well, we could try it, I guess," Sandy said doubtfully.
Bette spoke up. "Why don't you freshen our drinks, Jim. I'm going to put on a CD."
When I came back into the living room with a tray of drinks, the lights had been dimmed. Bette and Jeff were slow dancing to Blue Moon while Sandy stood in the doorway watching.
When I appeared, she invitingly held open her arms. I put the tray down and gathering her to me, kissed her properly, and began to sway in time with the music.
"It's good to see you again," I whispered.
She answered by squirming against me. We moved slowly in time to the music. "Doesn't this remind you of something?" she murmured into my neck.
"Sure does. Look over my shoulder when we turn."
I slowly turned so my back was to Bette and Jeff. I felt Sandy stiffen. "My God!"
I swung back to take another look myself. Jeff, was a husky young fellow. He had to be. Bette, her dress bunched up around her waist, was riding him, her arms around his neck, her slender ankles locked securely behind his back.
I couldn't be sure in the dim light, but it looked as if they had discovered a new coital position.
I felt a familiar stirring in the front of my pants. "I've danced enough," I said, "how about you?"
"Dancing is very tiring," Sandy said dryly, "I need to lie down." I was instantly reminded of a joke which I repeated to her. "Do you know why Ashcroft is so opposed to vertical sex?" "No. Why?" "It might lead to dancing."
I led Sandy into the bedroom. Once inside, I turned on the bedside lamp, and began to slip out of my clothes. As always, Sandy was magnificent as she crossed her hands on the hem of her blouse and lifted it over her head. That typically feminine movement never fails to arouse me.
She stepped out of her skirt, and slipped her panties down her long, slender legs. I stood by the bed waiting. She came into my arms, and we held each other tightly for a moment, her pointed little breasts drilling into my chest, my turgescent cock returning the compliment to her silken belly.
"This feels so good, so right," she murmured. We kissed again, this time passionately. She worked her mouth against mine, and I felt the tip of her tongue work its way between my lips.
"I've missed you, Jim," she said.
"And I, you," I said. "Let's do this more often."
She wiggled her belly against me as an answer. I backed up a step and, still holding her tight, fell backwards on the bed, taking her with me. At that moment, I was very much in love with her.
We reveled in the smooth, warm, sliding feeling of our mutual embrace. "I never want to let go," I said, breathing deeply of her exotic chemistry.
"Neither do I," she said, "but you're going to have to if you want to put that thing where it belongs."
Women are very practical about such matters. I rolled us over, and kissed her again.
With Sandy, I always wanted to make love, while, with most women, even with Bette much of the time, I wanted only sex. There's a hell of a difference.
I caressed her as carefully and as lovingly as I had on our first night, many months ago. I approached her womanhood reverently, and gently slid my wet tongue up and down her crease until she impatiently pulled my face up tight against her body.
"I'm ready, Jim. Are you just stalling?"
"I'll show you who's stalling," I said as I reared between her spread legs, my sword aimed for the center of her triangle. I held it in my right hand and rubbed it up and down her slit, which slowly opened to me like an unfolding flower.
"Easy does it," she warned me, as I began working myself into her.
Suddenly she exploded! Her back arched, her eyes rolled back and she began to shake. "Ohhhhhhhh, my GOD!" she whispered.
