4 Chapter 4

"Mrs. Frances Carroll Cooper ..."

"One moment, Mrs. Cooper ... I'll see if he's in." The secretary's voice was cool, efficient, and lacking a

certain friendliness that made Fran feel uneasy. Perhaps she shouldn't be calling, after all. Maybe she ought to hang up. Perhaps she'd say he was out, or he wouldn't even remember her name. She'd given her maiden name as well as her married name, but eleven years was a long time. It was even more than eleven years, Fran reminded herself, even though she preferred to shorten it to eleven in her own mind. Just as she was on the verge of hanging up, a voice broke into the monotony of the "hold" line.

"Fran, darling! Is that you ... is it really you?"

A wave of nostalgia passed through Fran as she recognized Giuliano's voice. The strong Italian accent, the same caressing tones ... "Yes ... yes ... it is ... how are you?"

"How am I?" The Italian's voice was incredulous, mocking. "What kind of question is that to answer over the phone? When am I going to see you, darling? Shall it be lunch or dinner? Are you still married or what?"

Fran felt a brief moment of regret as she answered, "Yes ... yes, I'm still married. Brint and I have a little girl ... well, she's not so little anymore, really."

"I'll bet she's beautiful just like her mother! Well, what can we do?

Will the ogre let you out of the house?"

"Why, of course ... of course ... I ... I guess I could have lunch."

"Marvelous! When? How about tomorrow? I'm shooting in the morning out on Park Avenue, and we could go to La Grenouille. We'll have a marvelous lunch and you'll tell me everything. We'll reminisce about old times ... or have you forgotten your Giuliano?"

Fran was blushing at the other end of the line, shamelessly pleased and excited.

"No, no ... I haven't forgotten ..." she replied. "Yes, I'd love to come tomorrow ... shall I meet you there?"

By the time she hung up the phone, Fran was glowing. She moved through the rest of the day as though on a cloud. And by the time her husband, Brint, came home for dinner to break her mood, she was filled with one thought: Why couldn't every day be as pleasant as this one had been?

She had taken a tip from an advertisement in a magazine and bought Stouffer's frozen seafood for dinner. It looked very elegant in the pastry shells she'd gotten from the supermarket, and it looked as though she'd been slaving for hours to make it when in reality it took only twelve minutes to heat.

At the table sat her husband, her brother-in-law, and her daughter, and all but Brint exclaimed over the delicious dinner. Fran felt her resentment toward her husband growing by leaps and bounds.

She was aware of his brother Morgan's eyes following her wherever she went, and for the first time she felt a little surge of pride at the fact that the young man was observing her. She hoped that Giuliano would not be disappointed in her looks when he saw her the next day. Fran had already decided what she would wear, a softly clinging summer suit of silk shantung, off-white in color, that she wore with her new platform wedgies - the ones Brint had actually forbidden her to buy but which she had secretly gotten anyway. He'd never seen them, and somehow Fran had always felt guilty about buying them, but now she knew why she had gotten them ... for this very occasion when she would have to look chic and "with it" for her luncheon date with Giuliano! She couldn't afford to have the slightest look of the housewife about her, not if she were going to attempt to get some kind of work from him.

The dinner over, Fran took advantage of her daughter's offer to clear the table and get the dishes ready for the dishwasher. When her young brother-in-law Morgan offered to help the little girl, Fran was pleased, since this was the first time Morgan had offered to do anything around the house.

Once Brint was installed watching the evening news on television, Fran felt free to go upstairs to her bedroom, where she could think about the next day to her heart's content. She planned a long bubble bath, a soothing and stimulating facial mask, and perhaps a few moments on the massage pad that was usually kept tucked in the back of the closet. She would pamper herself, and get herself into the proper frame of mind, for tomorrow she must not only be beautiful, but carefree - not only charming, but exciting, desirable! Not that she planned to go any further than lunch with Giuliano, of course, but after all the possibility would be there. She would resist his advances, she knew, resist them while loving the idea of what it would be like if she were to give in!

The hot water steamed up into her face, and bit by bit the foamy bubbles slid over the excited blonde housewife's naturally creamy skin. In seconds she was completely covered up to the top of her chin by the delightfully scented bubble bath. She looked very much like her own little girl, Jeanie, with her hair piled high atop her head, her features smooth as she closed her eyes to dream about the new course that her life might take. But beneath the water, the full voluptuous shapes of her nakedly soaking body, all silken breasts, hips and thighs, belonged to a woman, a ripe and beautiful woman.

* * *

Across the table, Giuliano's eyes sparkled. His hand reached across, to touch Fran's as she reached for her champagne glass.

"My ... you are lovely ... lovelier than ever!" he declared, and Fran could feel her loveliness, her beauty thrilling her to the marrow of her bones. God, how long had it been since someone had admired her like this? Why on earth had she put up with Brint's insults all these years?

This was more like it. The elegant restaurant made her feel right at home. Giuliano was well known there, and they were given excellent service. The luncheon of stuffed crab with watercress salad was light and exotic, and the Taittinger Blanc de Blanc champagne tasted delicious and refreshing as Fran drank it appreciatively.

She felt like a princess as the photographer continued to stroke her fingers lightly and to tell her flattering stories, reminding her of some of her past glories, hinting at the excitement they had found in each other's bodies once, over eleven years before.

Fran was more than a little tipsy as, finally and miraculously, she heard Giuliano say the words she'd been waiting for.

"Have you ever thought about modeling again? Of course, a slightly different type now ... more Vogue and Harpers. No more Seventeen and Mademoiselle for us. Cosmo would love you ... the mature independent woman ... the new woman! You and I could make a team of it again ... Eileen would love to take you back at the agency. We'll make up a new set of pics, do a complete portfolio and go see her together. What do you think?"

"I ... I think that would be wonderful! I'd love to do it!"

It was like a dream come true, a heavenly dream that meant that her life was no longer "finished and down the drain". There was life in the old girl yet, despite what her husband had to say about it!

They agreed to meet the next day at his studio where the now famous photographer would make up a

new series of photographs for Fran. He told her he had some terrific ideas, and made it clear that for his own pleasure he would like to pose her nude with animals. He'd been thinking about doing an unusual sequence like this, but hadn't yet found the right woman for it ... Fran was the right woman.

Despite her reservations, Fran felt a distinct shiver of excitement at the idea. Would this man really become her lover again? Did she have the nerve to be unfaithful to her husband? She had been completely and utterly faithful all these years, and there had been no reward that she could detect.

"Let's talk about the nude scene tomorrow ... we'll do the others first, all right?" she said. But deep in the pit of her belly the old fluttering was there. His dark, Mediterranean eyes with their long lashes ... his voice ... would she be able to resist him even if she wanted to?

"More champagne!" Giuliano poured again and again. The luncheon was a celebration of their new partnership, their new relationship. And to Fran it was a celebration of life itself, a reaffirmation of her own self.

* * *

"Come on ... don't be such a scare-baby! Mom won't be home for hours yet! Just a quickie, Morgan, please I want it so bad!"

Jeanie pleaded with her uncle to come to the sofa where she lay nakedly exposed to him. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Morgan felt a bit hesitant about taking Jeanie up on her offer, even though the sight of her tempting little pussy, already looking more womanly since he'd been having his way with it night and day, was just as exciting to him as it always was.

"Let's go upstairs to the bedroom anyway," he suggested, feeling his virile cock stiffening at the thought of that little baby cunt wrapping itself around it, clinging tight while he wormed his way ever upward inside its hotly burning confines. "Christ, Jeanie, don't you ever get enough?" he asked. "I've never known a grown woman who wanted so much fucking ... not to mention a ten year old!"

"I'll be eleven soon, if my age bothers you. But age is mainly in the mind, Morgan ... you must know that by now!"

Her little fingers had already started to ply the rosy-pink tissues of the narrow slit that nestled between the two soft naked lips of her impatiently waiting pussy. One leg went up on the back of the sofa as she lay back and let her own fingers play with the desire-filled slit of her pulsating cunt.

"Mmmmmm ... oh, Morgan ... can't you fuck me just a little? It won't take very long ... mmmmmm!"

Morgan couldn't take anymore of Jeanie's teasing. Hastily, he removed his clothes, and taking the precaution of locking the front door, rushed back to the sofa, his fully erect penis bobbing lewdly in front of him as he walked.

The excited young uncle let his full weight fall upon the slight form that lay upon the couch, and felt his niece tremble with desire beneath him.

"Put it in ... oh, put it in right away!" she cried. It was going to last a long time, she knew ... she would make it turn out that way. It was going to last exactly as long as she wanted it to!

* * *

The taxi driver told Fran how much he liked her perfume, and all the way back to her house from Manhattan he told her story after story about his wife and daughter, about football games he'd enjoyed

and about his mother's operation. Fran listened to it all with a smile playing about her lips. She felt benevolent, all-forgiving. She felt just perfect. The champagne she'd had blurred her vision just enough so that everything outside the cab looked dreamy and interesting. The harsher realities of the city were cushioned.

She tipped the driver lavishly. It was only money, after all, and still listening to his declarations of thanks, she floated up the walk to her house.

The taxi driver watched her as she moved away from him, his lips forming the words that rose from his subconscious. "Boy, honey, would I like to eat you out! Some guys got all the luck, fucking a juicy blonde one like that!" He was thinking of his own wife, and of the woman he saw once a week ... the neighbor down the hall. He always said to himself that pussy was pussy no matter how you sliced it, but sometimes, like now, he felt cheated. Just once in his life he'd like to get into something like his last fare!

He didn't start up again until he saw Fran try the door, then fumble in her purse for her keys. She fit the key into the lock and then entered the house. The driver started up, and after blowing her a mental kiss he sped away.

Fran stepped into the vestibule, her brain still whirling with thrilling thoughts. She was, she thought, the world's most fortunate woman. She dropped her pocketbook on the hall chair and started toward the living room, but before she got there she heard the strange sounds that would become the true turning point in her life that day.

"OOOOOOOOH Yes! Fuck it! Fuck it!" the lewd, obscene word was magic to Jeanie and she loved to use it as often as possible. "Fuck my cunt good ... OOOOOH UNCLE MORGAN! YOU'RE SO BIGGGG!"

In and out the young twenty year old speared, his naked buttocks flexing, his entire nervous system soaring, blood pounding in his ears as little Jeanie's heels kicked against his moving back. Obscenely she wormed the entire lower portion of her nakedness up tight against her father's brother, pulling him as far into her clasping pussy as he would go.

"OH JEANIE ... JEANIE ... BABY!" he cried. Through some expertise that she seemed to have learned on her own, Jeanie had affectionately kept him from cumming for at least half an hour. She'd kept him just on the brink ... right on the edge of the orgasmic release that he needed for his sanity.

"OH TOO MUCH!" he cried, "TOO FUCKING MUCH!"

Fran stepped forward, disbelief causing her to move closer to see with her own eyes the evidence that was meeting her burning ears. Her eyes bulged with horror as she saw them nakedly clinging to each other, her own ten year old daughter on the bottom, her husband's brother on top, thrusting and panting, grinding his thickly throbbing cock into the depths of Jeanie's straining, milking pussy.

Her scream rent the air, so loud that it seemed to blast the fornicating uncle and niece - her daughter and her husband's brother right off the sofa. Then Fran was running forward, words coming that she didn't even hear or understand herself, her hands grabbing for the two of them, nails scratching.

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE, YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SON OF A BITCH! I TOLD BRINT BUT HE WOULDN'T BELIEVE ME! YOU'RE THE LOWEST OF THE LOW, A DIRTY ROTTEN ... OH, GET OUT! GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!"

But before Morgan could move away from her flying hands, she had struck him hard across the face and run away herself, clambering up the stairs to put as much distance between her daughter and her

brother-in-law as possible. Jeanie had been enjoying it ... loving it ... Fran had heard with her own ears the words her daughter had used, filthy obscene words. Wherever had she heard them? OH GOD, WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN TO THEM ALL NOW? The distraught mother ran into her bedroom and, sobbing bitterly, threw herself upon the bed. The beautiful world of only a few moments before had been irreparably shattered.

* * *

"GOD, JEANIE! I TOLD YOU WE SHOULDN'T HAVE GONE AT IT RIGHT HERE IN THE LIVING ROOM!"

"Gee, I guess you were right, Uncle Morgan ..." But Jeanie was pleased, very pleased with the way things were going.

"What the hell do we do now?" Morgan was doubly peeved. Not only had he been caught screwing his own brother's child, but he'd spoiled his chances with Fran forever. In addition, to all that, he hadn't even reached a climax!

Jeanie began to slip into the clothing which she'd tossed behind the sofa. Sweetly, she spoke to her uncle, "I think maybe you'd better go up and see what you can do, Uncle Morgan. Mom is very high-strung and perhaps you can help her to calm down."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Morgan cried. He, too, was fully dressed by now. But the more he thought about his precocious niece's suggestion, the more he became interested in it.