![](/storefb2/W/J-Wheatfield/A-Film-For-A-Few-Friends//rws321afilmforafewfriends.jpg)
J Wheatfield
A film for a few friends
CHAPTER ONE
It was too early to go to bed and too late to get dressed and go out, assuming she could think of somewhere she wanted to go, so Lynn Langley found herself wandering aimlessly through the house in her nightdress half-heartedly tidying up the living room and wondering if she could get some money out of her husband, Matt, for some new curtains. The night was uncomfortably warm and humid, and she knew that it would be impossible to sleep with the hot south wind blowing into the bedroom window. Lynn always found it difficult to doze off when her husband was away, and these days the TV studio seemed to be sending him out of town more and more frequently to film track meets, high school football games, boxing matches, and anything else in the sports world which might conceivably interest the athletically minded viewers of WRT-TV, the local television.
Depressed and feeling a slight headache coming on, Lynn meandered lazily into the bedroom and threw herself unhappily on the big double bed, her long blonde hair spraying out against the whiteness of the pillow. The breeze from the window was hot, but moving air of any temperature was refreshing, and she enjoyed the feeling of the wind caressing her lightly clad body.
Lynn had the stunning voluptuous figure of a young Greek Goddess, and a professional photographer would have immediately noticed that this was an exceptional-looking girl and reached for his camera. The filmy silk nightgown barely hid her high-set widely spaced breasts and the flimsy material was translucent, revealing her pointed, rosy-tipped nipples. The nightie was tight and form fitted, dutifully following the breathtaking curves of her ripely generous figure, flowing over a flat smooth stomach down to full firm thighs and the inviting brown patch of soft pubic hair up between her long tapered legs. There was no question about it; this was a woman worth looking at, and men normally took the opportunity to do just that whenever she passed their way.
But on this hot evening, Lynn's smoothly chiseled features were marred by a frown, and the restless dissatisfaction she was feeling showed clearly in her large hazel eyes. Lynn could not put her finger exactly on the cause of her unhappiness because it seemed that everything that had ever worried and troubled her in the past was coming back to haunt her tonight. Why did Matt have to be out of town whenever she really needed him to cheer her up? On a night like this, they should be mixing drinks, taking cool showers, and making love until they had tired themselves out enough to sleep. Instead, she was alone and love-making was out of the question for three more days!
The voluptuously attractive young wife shook her head to drive away the bad thoughts which were tormenting her mercilessly and decided to wash her face with cold water. Why did it have to be like this? Other women managed to forget their premarital love affairs, marry good honest men like Matt and then settle down, happy and content for the rest of their lives. If she had only listened to what her mother had taught her as a child she would never have gotten herself involved with a character like Phil Agard to begin with, and she would never have learned to be dissatisfied with a fine upstanding individual like her husband. She should have gone to her wedding a virgin and not a slightly used kept woman with remorse for the past and continual worries about the future.
She washed her face without feeling much better for it and returned to her bed, knowing in advance that she would never be able to get to sleep as long as she was in this condition. Small beads of sweat were already forming all over her body, and she realized instinctively that the evening's heat was only half of the explanation, the other half being too shameful to admit even to herself. She was aroused, excited! She needed some physical satisfaction, and there was none in sight!
Somehow, as the languid, sexually deprived woman sprawled on her bed, the thin fabric of her shortie nightgown landed high on the flat tantalizing plane of her stomach, exposing the softly tempting darkness between her slightly spread legs. Beneath the fine flaxen hair of her pubic mound, the warm south wind swept boldly over the thin hair-lined slit of her open loins.
And it felt good! She was so turned on tonight that even the delicate impersonal touch of the wind was sensual, and she spread her lithe, tapered legs even farther apart, baring the whole moist crevice of her cunt to the hot breeze from the window. Then, with an abrupt gesture, she raised the firmly rounded half-moons of her buttocks off the surface of the mattress and slid the nightie up over the rising mounds of her breasts. A moment later, she removed the gown completely, wanting to let the hot, lust-inciting wind caress her totally naked body.
Oh, God, what the hell am I doing, she moaned to herself in anguish. A couple of days without my husband, and here I am, acting like a sex-starved teenager! Lynn, when will you ever grow up?
Then, without warning, a terrible temptation swept over her. It was something she had not done since she had married and something she had sworn she would never do again, but she knew even as she battled against it that the temptation was going to win and her willpower would lose!