Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 49

He mounted her with a surprising ease, and Bernie let him take charge.

Before she knew what was happing, he had her bent back almost double, with just the tip of his cock resting within the juicy lips of her pussy, he drove into her again and again, using all the youthful energy at his disposal, the wet, flat smack of his hips thudding against her pelvis resounding through the room with each thrust.

She groaned defenselessly beneath him, her flushed face showing a mixture of pain and pleasure. She was powerless to move as he buffeted her helpless body along the couch cushions, driving her up toward the arm of the sofa with every pounding lunge. Even her arms were pinned down at her sides by her legs and wafts of cool air rushed in maddeningly between her wide spread thighs every time he withdrew.

"You're an animal!" she gasped.

"You're beautiful," he said in response, not knowing what else to say to her, and accidentally selecting the perfect sequence of words to whisper to her.

Bernie's face contorted into an unrecognizable mask of wild abandoned passion. Her womb flared, and a spilt second later his seed jetted against its walls. Robbie grunted and seemingly with each successive grunt he loosened another jet of sperm into her.

Her nails clawed a red streaked path along his back as she pulled him deep and thrust her belly up to skewer herself completely on his wildly pumping shaft. And she felt a tremendous loss when he suddenly shoved himself away from her, looking aghast for having cum in her without wearing a rubber.

Bernie saw his expression and knew the problem. She quickly reassured Robbie that it was all right. That she had adequate protection to prevent pregnancy.

"But I thought..." he began.

"Really, I'm not lying to you. I'm on the pill. You have heard of it, haven't you?"

"I thought..." he said again, "I thought all girls needed me to use a condom."

"No, not really," she told him, "It is a good idea, and if you have one, by all means use it. Regardless of what your young lady may tell you. I'm a married woman. I'm experienced in these matters, and most of all I'm not trying to get pregnant and force you to marry me like some girls might."

The relief on his face was evident, and he soon relaxed to the point where he renewed his teasing of her nipples, before telling her he was ready again. But Bernie was sore, and kissed him passionately before shooing him away, telling him to stop by the following morning around ten.

*****

The following afternoon over cocktails, Bernie confided to Valerie Marcolina that she was boffing the lawn-boy.

"You!" Val blurted, obviously shocked, "But he's only a boy!"

Bernie's face went red. "I shouldn't have said a word."

"No, no," Val said. "You were right to tell me. But what ever possessed you to jump the kid's bones?"

Bernie giggled and took another sip of her champagne. Val had insisted on buying a bottle of Dom Perignon when Bernie whispered that she had something important to tell her.

"His bones are not those of a kid," Bernie said, trying to justify her actions. "Besides if you had been there... I mean looking at the muscles rippling in his back as he passed by... well," then Bernie changed her mind and said, "He's eighteen, a senior, and almost off to college."

"So he's hung like a stallion," Val said, giggling into the brim of her wineglass.

"He is formidable," Bernie lied, "and with fantastic recuperative powers."

That statement caused Val to squirm slightly in her seat. "Really? Well, go on. Tell me more."

"I really shouldn't talk out of school..." Bernie said, and when her choice of words caused them both to burst out laughing, Val signaled the waiter to bring another bottle of Champagne to their table. They waited until he had popped the cork and poured them each another glass and left, before renewing their conversation.

"We did it at least three times... I mean, he came three times in an hour. I couldn't count the number of orgasms he gave me."

"My God!" Val said awed by the number of orgasms Bernie had had.

"I've had some good nights," Val said, "but nothing to match that."

"I'm having him over every time Jon goes off to play a round of golf."

"What if he should come home early?"

"What? Jon home early? That would be a first. I really think he has someone on the side. Could you possibly find out from Joe if he is cheating on me?"

"Whatever for? You're already cheating on him. You don't know, and I suspect that you didn't even care until Robbie the wonder boy got your hormones in an uproar."

"You may be right," Bernie conceded. "Still, now that I've started wondering about him... could you, would you, quiz Joe about it? Of course, you can't be obvious about it. You understand that, right?"

"Bernie, of course I understand. Now you'd tell me if you heard any rumors about Joe, wouldn't you?"

"To be honest, I don't know if I should. I mean, I wouldn't want to cause you any unnecessary pain, you know?"

"Bernie!"

"All right! All right! I'll tell you if I hear anything remotely connecting Joe with a bimbo. Happy now?"

"Yes, thank you. Now let's toast ourselves."

I think we're drunk, Val."

"So we'll get a cab to take us home."

"Valerie Marcolina, you're a sweetheart,"

"And you're... well, you're my bestest friend, so I won't say it."

The two women laughed uproariously at that, and polished off the remainder of the champagne.

****

That night, in their bedroom, Val, having had even more wine after the Champagne, broached the question as tactfully as she could. She hadn't reckoned with her husband's perceptiveness in that area. But Joe had been waiting patiently since Jon's bachelor party a little over a year before for a sign of marital problems in the Grunfield household, and was almost relentless in his questioning of his wife on the subject.

Val told him everything about Robbie, Jon's constant golf excursions, and consequent neglect of his beautiful wife.

"She's a beautiful woman, Val," he said, picturing Bernie's blonde hair and big breasts. "Pretty women need to be satisfied and satisfied often, or someone else will take her away," he said more to himself than to Val.

"But they've only been married a short time..." Val protested.

"She's how old, Val?

"Twenty-eight, I think." Val knew to the hour just how old Bernie was, they were life-long friends.

"You've known her how long?"

"It seems like I've known her forever."

"So she's only a year older than you," he said pondering other things, but needing to distract his wife from the truth of his thoughts about Bernie.

"Yes, we met at college... we roomed together... but you know that. We've been best friends ever since."

Joe didn't respond to her statement. He was figuring out a means of approaching Bernie with no one the wiser. Joe was a careful, methodical man, and was in no hurry to rush things along.

"I think Jon might have something on the side," he said casually. "I'm not certain, but there have been some comments made at the club. Nothing specific, you know, but cagey innuendo, that sort of stuff. No one ever say's anything outright, they prefer to let the listener chase the actual facts down, or leave the statement lying there, and not do a damn thing about it."

"My God, what a bastard," Val said obviously furious at Jon's betrayal of her friend, Bernie.

Joe smiled and changed the subject. "You know, Val, I've got another important client coming to town next week. His name is Murray Roundtree."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I wonder would you be interested in meeting him... kind of like you met Gerry."

"I think not, Joe."

"Would you please give the idea some thought... you know, let it simmer in that dirty mind of yours. It's quite possible you'll have a change of heart."

"What's in it for you, Joe?"

"A great deal of money. Not only for me. It's for us."

"Am I to presume that without me prostituting myself, you don't have a deal with him?"

"That is very likely."

"Fuck you, Joe. I'm your wife, not a rented whore, call an escort service if he really needs to get laid."

"Val!" he cried out, as if protesting his innocence.

"Sleep on the couch tonight, Joe. Don't come into the bedroom. And don't you dare come into my bedroom!"

Val told Bernie what her husband had said about her husband the following morning. "Nothing concrete," she'd told Bernie, "but where there's smoke, there's fire."

Val also mentioned his attempt at having her prostitute herself. Bernie was infuriated, not at Joe, but at her husband. On reflection, she was surprised to find that she didn't care a whit about Val, or her husband.

When Jon set off to play a round of golf the next day, Bernie persuaded Robbie to cut his last two classes and "come over for a roll in the hay," her words, not his.

*****

In his office, that same afternoon, Joe Marcolina ran a credit check on the Grunfeld's, and learned that they were almost maxed out on two credit cards, a sign that things might not be as they appear in the Grunfeld household. Joe leaned back in his leather chair and lit his first cigar of the day.