Roger Grayson
The friendly couples

CHAPTER ONE

The bubble-topped bath water remained hot after twenty minutes. Janet Richards sat low in the tub allowing the water to barely cover the tops of her rich firm breasts. She blew at the bubbles and scooped them in her cupped hands, building small mountains on her slightly rising chest, each breath breaking hundreds of the small transparent rainbow colored balls as they crackled furiously around her.

She stretched her arms straight above her head and leaned back, stiffening her legs in the tub and raised her body halfway above the snowdrift of bubbles, displaying the long lean lines of her young, voluptuous body. Her skin stretched taut against her ribcage, giving definition to her curvaceous lines that ran to the slight bump of pelvis that pointed out softly near the crest of her hips.

At twenty-seven Janet had lost none of the desirable form she had acquired not long after her seventeenth birthday. Her body kept its shape with exercise on the tennis courts or in a swimming pool. She had much to be proud of, her husband, Greg was always telling her.

She yawned in her catlike stretch and threw her head back, disposing of the bright towel she had wrapped around her long blond hair. Though slightly damp with the humidity in the room, her hair still shone with a bright lustre and an almost majestic fullness piled high atop her head. She bent forward and pulled the plug to release half the water so that she could refill the tub with more hot steaming water. She intended to soak another fifteen minutes before finishing her bath.

It was only four thirty in the afternoon, but Janet was preparing herself for a special night, she thought happily, as the almost scalding water poured itself into the tub from the steam fogged faucet. Greg had received notice of his promotion yesterday morning. He was now a branch manager of a nationwide loan and savings company. She was proud of her husband and his ability.

She took particular care pouring two more cap-fuls of bubble bath into the hot water as she thought of the night's entertainment that lay before her. She and Greg were to be guests of Martin and Darleen Kelly for the evening to celebrate the promotion.

Greg worked with Martin and though they had known each other only a few months, the two men had become fast friends, as well as the wives. The two couples had shared a great many evenings' entertainment together and now, tonight, they would again celebrate with added fervor. The Kellys knew how much the promotion meant to both Greg and Janet.

Curious and apprehensive she thought about what would happen when they went out. Greg had told her that they were going to a topless nightclub near downtown Los Angeles, about thirty minutes from their Hollywood home. Born and raised with all the modesty the Midwest had to offer, she was not sure how she would react to the bare breasts of other women as they bobbed and swayed to psychedelic music in front of a large crowd of people.

She felt she would be too embarrassed to stay through an entire show, but with all her courage she had tried to seem pleased when Greg had told her where they were going. Besides he had already reserved a table at Martin's suggestion. The Kellys were footing the bill, but wanted Greg to pick the entertainment he wished to see. Janet was not sure what to think when she heard that he wanted to see a topless show. It was so unlike him.

Her thoughts were broken by the loud ringing of the telephone in the bedroom. She turned her head toward the open door, knowing for some unexplainable reason that Greg was calling. She lifted herself quickly from the tub, threw her robe around her shoulders and hurried to the bedside phone.

"Hello, darling," she said, cradling the receiver between her chin and shoulder.

"How did you know it was me," Greg asked.

"Oh, I'm just telepathic," she giggled.

"Well, tell me if you were telepathic about this," he said. "You have to pack a bag for me. I've been called to Dallas."

"Oh, no, Greg. Not tonight!"

"I'm afraid so, honey. The call came just ten minutes ago. There's an important meeting of branch managers from the larger cities. Speculation is that names are to be mentioned for nominations for three new district managers. Even though I was promoted only yesterday, there's a rumor that I'll be nominated as a possible selection for the future. So… The party will just have to wait. I'll be home in half an hour. Bye."

Janet didn't answer but only listened to the click on the other end of the line. Oh, why, she thought. Nothing ever seems to turn out right. Day and night he was away from her, working and slaving twelve to eighteen hours a day. For the last year he seemed to pay no attention to her, only his job. He should have married the finance company, she thought.

Halfheartedly she walked to the closet, slid open the door and began selecting clothes for him to take. I shouldn't think that, she considered. Greg is working so hard so that we can have a better future. She felt a pang of guilt for being mad at her husband. After all, his last promotion had meant another thirty five hundred dollars a year, and he seemed so enthusiastic about the Dallas meeting. Perhaps she was wrong in being so quick to judge him. His neglect in the bedroom was only from exhaustion, and exhaustion she thought was the result of his loving her. But it had been months… three months since he had touched her.

She stood before the mirror, her robe falling from her shoulders. Her hands cupped her breasts while she examined them carefully in the glass. There are no signs, she thought. Age hasn't come for me yet. For a moment she took a quick inventory of the rest of her body and decided that it was as good as it had ever been, then turned to continue the packing.

At five o'clock the front door opened. "Honey, are you dressed? Martin's with me."

Oh, no! she thought, when she heard his voice from the living room. She had hoped for at least a few minutes alone with him before he had to leave. Opening the bedroom door, she could see her husband mixing a fast Martini behind the bar in the den. She glanced at the gray flanneled back of the six foot, grey templed man standing in the center of the room, Martin Kelly.

"Hello, Martin," she said.

He turned to look at her, greeting her with a large grin as he always did. She smiled back at the soft, grey eyes that always seemed to penetrate her when they looked in her direction. Martin Kelly had no excess on his face or his body. Janet admired him for a quick second. She always marveled at how well he looked. Except for the greying temples she would never have thought him to be a day over thirty-two or three, but then, forty wasn't old either.

She walked past him and met Greg halfway across the room. He gave her a drink and handed one to Martin, neglecting to kiss her on the cheek as he had done for the first three years of their marriage. But had sadly neglected doing it since they had moved from Louisville. For some reason he hadn't had the inclination to give her that little kiss of reassurance that she needed so badly each time he came home in the evening. "To Dallas and a quick trip home," Martin proposed and the trio drank to the toast. Janet downed her Martini in one unusually quick gulp, the disappointment readily apparent in her face.

"Hey, that is not like you at all," Martin smiled to her and gestured playfully with his finger.

And Greg didn't even notice, she thought rather bitterly, "It was too good to waste by letting it warm," she smiled grimly back at Martin, not even looking at her husband. "Besides, I have to celebrate my husband's promotion all alone tonight, so I may as well get started early."

"That's almost right," Martin said and turned to Greg with a twinkle in his eye. "Shall I tell her?"

Greg nodded slightly as he drank. "Your travelling husband and I talked it over in the car and decided that you shouldn't miss a party just because your old man is out of town."

Martin's smile never faded as he talked. "Darleen and I will take you to the club without him. The table has already been reserved and everything has been especially ordered. Besides, I'm still not too old to squire two women at once, if it's only for one night."

"Oh, Martin, I don't know," she started, but he interrupted.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've already talked to Darleen. She's been spending the last three hours getting ready for this. She doesn't mind sharing me for part of one evening. So you can't say no," he said, taking her hand warmly.

"In that case, Mr. Kelly, I simply cannot refuse," she said dramatically. "What time will you call, sir?"

"At eight sharp. Can you be ready, Madam?"

"Of course," she answered.

Greg broke in, "Enough is enough for both of you lovers. I've got a jet to catch. Come on Martin, let's get a move on."

Janet walked her husband to the door and kissed him goodbye, feeling his impatience to leave as he drew away from her. She watched him walk to the car and stood in the doorway, her arms hanging limply at her side.

"See you at eight," Martin shouted.

She nodded and smiled, watching the white convertible back from the driveway onto the street and roar off toward the corner and the airport. Goodnight, Greg, she thought and turned back into the house closing the door behind her, not wanting the fresh air to touch the single tear that had dropped to her cheek. A deep sense of loneliness rippled through her, a loneliness she had been carrying with her since Greg's move into the upper echelons of business, and one she hated with all her heart.

Two hours later Martin and Darleen Kelly shared a small pitcher of Martinis in their bedroom as he dressed. Darleen sat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a large pillow behind her. At thirty six she looked every bit as good as the younger Janet, but her own self criticism and fear of growing older blinded her to the fact. Her black hair was cut in the latest Sassoon style. She wore a mini-shirt that revealed a year round tan on her full, sensual thighs and nearly every man she came into contact with looked at her with more than just idle curiosity. She was a beautiful woman, but no man could take advantage of her and she knew it. It was usually the other way around.

"It's working out better than we thought," she said. "Do you think she's ready?"

"Ripe for plucking," he said, smiling at his pun.

"You are too, too funny," she told him. "I hope you're right, though."

"Have I ever been wrong about a woman before?" he said, not waiting for an answer. "You should have seen the look on her face when we drove away. Janet is the loving wife alright, but she has been so neglected by Greg that there will be no trouble at all. And even if there is, I can change her mind. With what I know about Greg, I could convince her of anything. No, sweetheart, getting her hot, little body between the sheets will be no trouble at all."

"No, I suppose not darling, not with that fatal charm of yours," his wife answered with a slight tone of sarcasm.

"But don't forget your part of the plan," he said, ignoring her jibe. "Greg probably won't be that easy."

"Don't be so sure of yourself, Martin. With the right circumstance he'll probably be as easy as you are," she said with a coquettish smile. "I can show him one helluva lot more than that pretty little wife of his and I'll bet he knows it. You saw how attentive he was the last time they were here. If you hadn't said no, I would have taken him to bed right then."

"You are anxious, aren't you?"

"Jealous?"

"A little, perhaps, but I always am, for a moment at least. But that doesn't last longer than it takes me to get into the rack with your friends."

"You had better hurry," she said looking at her drink.

Martin finished adjusting his tie and brushed back the grey at his temples with his hands. "I'm ready, with time to spare. I wonder how she's going to react when I tell her you have a migraine? And," he added as an afterthought, "Wherever you go tonight, stay on the other side of town, away from the club. If she saw you it might ruin everything."

"I don't think it will but I'll stay away from your little precious game. I should find entertainment somewhere tonight, like maybe at Peter's club. There's always more than enough excitement there."

"Well, don't let your excitement stay too long if you bring him home. I'll be back before three," he said as he left the room, hurrying so that he would be knocking on Janet's front door at exactly eight o'clock.

Janet had been ready for twenty minutes when she heard Martin rap at the door. She gulped the last of her Martini, the fourth since Martin and her husband had left, and walked rather unsteadily to the door.

Martin entered and walked her to the living room where her mink stole lay haphazardly across the back of the chair. She told him she would fix him a drink but wouldn't have one herself. He refused and picked up the mink.

As they walked out the door he told her that Darleen had a terrible migraine and wouldn't be with them. Janet thought it was strange that Darleen should get a headache on a night like this, especially after spending all afternoon getting ready. Nothing seems to be happening right today she thought with a slightly audible sigh. Well, I hope nothing else goes wrong.

"Well, Martin," she said with a forced smile. "We may as well enjoy our evening alone. Two stood up people have to do the best they can."

He smiled at her as he closed the door of the convertible, then walked to the other side. Once seated he turned over the big engine and pulled away from the curb. Janet usually paid attention when Martin drove. She thought he was still a teenager at heart, the way he sped through residential areas, not to mention the ninety mile an hour rides on the freeways, but tonight she didn't care how he drove. Her thoughts were centered around Greg and her marriage. Confused and hurt she had no idea how to recapture her husband from his work. She decided that she didn't care about the money, about the big promotions, the house, anything. She wanted her husband back. He has been a stranger too long, she thought almost desperately. I must find a way.

Was it possible that she was losing, or perhaps, had already lost her sex appeal. Her mind searched every avenue trying to discover the real cause for her husband's neglect. Her ears were deaf to Martin's continuous flow of words as they drove along the freeway at his usual ninety miles an hour. Janet was oblivious to the traffic and the danger. Her mind was already fogged by too many martini's.

Perhaps, she thought, she could make Greg jealous. Then he would pay attention to her. He would have to. It certainly wouldn't be hard. She wouldn't have to do anything. She could be secretive about her night out with Martin when Greg asked her how the party went. There could be no harm in that. Martin was a good friend.

She smiled and sat a little straighter, adjusting an imaginary out of place hair on her head. After all, Martin wouldn't mind being used… especially if he didn't know about it.

Janet had never even flirted with the idea of being unfaithful to her husband. Their marriage had always been satisfactory enough, up until the last three months. More than a few men had asked her out, knowing she was married. Always flattered, but never unfaithful, she had always turned them down.

It is a good idea, she though, turning her attention to the man behind the steering wheel. Her eyes searched the lines of his profile looking for discrepancies, but could find none. I wonder, she thought, how he is to Darleen in bed. "Oh," she said out loud, amazed that she could have had such a lewd thought. Never in her life had she any ideas relating to other people's sex life. It had always been a private thing, not to be discussed or even thought of.

"What was that for," Martin asked her.

"Oh, nothing," she said, "I-I forgot my compact. I remember now, I left it on the dresser." She was embarrassed to talk with him after picturing him in bed with Darleen, but she couldn't get the thought out of her mind. She even wondered how he might be with her, how he might please her. She fought to purge the images from the back of her head, but they persisted, until suddenly, she hiccuped from the embarrassment.

Martin laughed. "How many of those martini's did you drink after we left," he asked. "More than your share I'll bet. Do you feel like continuing?"

Not wanting to spoil the evening for Martin, too, she said, "Of course, I want to go. These silly things will go away. All I have to do is hold my breath…" she took in a lungfull of air, raising her large firm breasts higher, straining against her dress. For nearly a minute she imprisoned the air in her lungs, while her face reddened under her light make-up. "… Like that," she said, exhaling, "and they'll be gone. See! Hiccup!"

They both laughed at her failure to rid herself of the slight discomfort. "Try putting your head between your knees and holding your breath again," Martin said. "That works when nothing else does."

Eager to rid herself of hiccups and equally as eager for some unknown reason to please Martin, she did as he said. She pulled her miniskirt higher up her legs until without her realizing it, it exposed the soft smooth flesh of her upper thighs. Martin could hardly keep his eyes on the road while he watched her put her head down between her open knees and inhale another large, deep breath. Her long tanned thighs invited him to touch them and it was all he could do to restrain himself and keep his hands on the wheel.

Janet kept her head between her knees a little longer than necessary. Alcohol and her sudden wicket thoughts of what Martin would be like in bed gave her the bravado of a little daring that she had never experienced before. She enjoyed having Martin look at her legs as she knew he was doing it but it couldn't hurt anything, and besides, she half giggled to herself, she was titillated by the cool air from the vents blowing around her opened thighs.

She had a smile on her face as she lifted her head up and exhaled. "I think they're gone," she said, waiting a moment to be sure. She purposely left her skirt high on her thighs. She enjoyed the cool air. She wasn't ashamed of feeling slightly excited, if only in thought. Why not? It can't hurt anything.

"Here, have a little of this," Martin said, pulling a flask from the glove compartment. "Martinis from the flask, ready to drink. I always mix some before I go out. It saves not only time, but a little money if I'm half-lit before I get to wherever I'm going."

Janet started to refuse, but changed her mind. So what, if I'm drunk, she thought. One or two more won't hurt. I'm not a child. I can hold my liquor as well as anyone.

She took the leather covered flask and put it to her lips, taking a full swallow, and strained not to start coughing. It tasted strange for a Martini, but she didn't dwell on it. She had no idea that Martin had fixed the bottle with something extra before coming to pick her up. He was well versed in aphrodisiacs. He had put just enough in so that they would not be affected too strongly… only enough to be suggestive. He would let the liquor and her disappointment with her husband do the rest.

He pulled into the club's entranceway, stopped and walked around the car to open the door for her.

"Oops," she said giggling as she got out of the car and nearly stumbled. "I've had too much to drink already."

"Nonsense, silly girl, you're just not used to the night air," he said, the smile still spread across his face.

Brace yourself, Janet thought as they neared the door, but somehow she didn't feel as nervous about going to a topless show as she had before. The five Martinis has relaxed her nervous code of ethics until she saw the billboard in front of the club.