Richard Mountbatten

Vicki_s furry friend

CHAPTER ONE

The cold, winter rain beat a relentless tattoo against the glass panes of the bedroom window, and Victoria Young shivered involuntarily beneath the thick quilt covering her firm young body. The curvaceous brunette drew it tighter around her chin, listening to the gurgle of water in the roof drains, and wished her husband, Kirk, were home on this afternoon of all afternoons.

It was New Year's Eve.

But he wasn't home, and he wouldn't be home until six o'clock – it was a little after three now. He was a physical education teacher at Valley Glen College, and had the misfortune – or fortune, depending on whose point of view was taken – to be a hundred miles away in Lakeland, coaching the college's freshman basketball team in the championship game of the Holiday Classic Tournament.

It would be nice, she thought, if Kirk were here right now, lying with me under this warm old quilt with his arms around me. Perhaps we could even make love; yes, that would be nice – to make love with Kirk on this cold New Year's Eve afternoon.

She thought about her husband of less than a year, about his tall, handsome body and his pleasantly freckled face topped with that funny little shock of dark red hair. She thought about his quiet tenderness, his concern when she was feeling low or under the weather, his self-assurance about future prosperity, when his enormous talent was realized and he was entrenched as Valley Glen's head coach. He often talked of the day when they could live in their own home, perhaps one of the older but aesthetically appealing homes along faculty row or one of the newer, more modem ones in the hills above the campus, instead of this small and somewhat shabby guest house six miles north of the college on a once prosperous citrus ranch now withering into obscurity under the crush of exorbitant property taxes brought about by the greed of the area's land developers; when they would drive an elegant Cadillac or Lincoln instead of the five year old Volkswagen they owned at present; when they could have a couple of kids and take yearly vacations to exotic ports of call such as the Virgin Islands.

And Vicki believed that all of these things would one day come true, because she believed in Kirk. He was ambitious, and was willing to put in long hours to achieve the goals he had set for himself and his lovely raven-haired wife; Victoria, in turn, was just as willing to sacrifice such things as companionship on a regular basis and luxuries, both personal and household.

Still, Vicki thought, there were times when she wished that such sacrifices did not have to be made – times like now. She had begun to picture her husband's strong body as it looked when he was naked, and the mental image caused little tingling sensations to race along her flesh. He had such a magnificently muscled body, with little curling red hairs and a flat, hard stomach that curved into a thickly thatched mound of dark red pubic hair. And his penis – so long and hard, trembling like a leashed animal when he was aroused, its head so thick and reddened and secreting warm white seminal fluid…

Vicki flushed a bright crimson at the thought of her husband's huge sexual member. God, it was so big it frightened her at times; she remembered her anguished cry on her wedding night, the thought that it would split her apart. Her fears had been groundless, of course, since she had been able to take all of it inside her – and quite comfortably, too, after the first initial pain of her broken maidenhood. Kirk had been gentle with her on their honeymoon, and she had found herself able to respond to his lovemaking very quickly, to even achieve an orgasm once in awhile. Her mother had once told her that most women never reach a climax in marriage, and she considered herself a lucky and blessed person to be able to cum with her husband perhaps once every four or five times they made love.

Lying there on their big, brass-framed double bed, beneath the heavy quilt, the voluptuous brunette knew that this afternoon was one of those times that she could – surely would – reach orgasm with her husband. But Kirk wasn't here. She couldn't have sex. She couldn't have an orgasm…

Now relax, she told herself, he'll be home at six and you can make love then. The party at Dr. Kaye's isn't until nine, and that will be plenty of time – six to nine – to do it. Oh, but damn it, I can't seem to get the picture of that wonderfully hard penis of his out of my mind… I can almost feel it inside my vagina right now, moving in and out while he kisses my breasts and puts his tongue in my mouth…