Chapter 9

Jack completed his novel less than three months after that night, and it was accepted by his publisher with enthusiasm and praise and a promise of an unlimited promotion campaign to put it on the best-seller list. The publisher also requested a sequel to the novel, assuring Jack of a handsome five thousand dollar advance against nothing more than an approved outline.

Once the news of his success leaked out to Jack’s former co-workers on the Sentinel, and to those Seattle people who gave parties in honor of literary figures, Jack and Adie were inundated with invitations to get-togethers. They turned down most but were forced by social necessity to accept one or two here and there. As Jack put it, “Going to one of these things once in awhile is a necessary evil. But I’d much rather move within our own circle of close friends.”

“Like the Masons’?” Adie had asked teasingly.

“Like the Masons,” Jack had agreed, winking. “And like Caesar, too.”

At one of the parties, given by another former fellow Sentinel reporter named Swanson, Adie and Jack were standing on the patio, pretending to enjoy themselves and wishing enough time would elapse so they could make a graceful exit. Adie was restless and kept moistening her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. Jack knew that she was becoming progressively hornier, for Adie’s sexual appetite had heightened unbelievably since that orgiastic night at the Mason’s mansion. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him, his cock, his mouth, his tongue, every inch of his body. She was a new woman, all right, Jack thought: a new, exotic, alluring woman that he had never dreamed of possessing. It was like a miracle; he had never been happier, more contented, and his completion of the novel, the full and total satisfaction from the knowledge that it was good, very good, was directly descendent from Adie’s physical awakening. And for that matter, his own. A fulfilled man sexually was a fulfilled man creatively; he now firmly believed that.

They were still seeing the Masons of course. Usually about once a week. On some of those occasions it was just Sue and Bob, but on others there was Meg and June and Phil - and Caesar - plus a progression of others. Strangely enough, it was those nights that both he and Adie seemed to look forward to with the most relish; for weeks after one of those sessions, fucking Adie was like fucking a crazed predatory panther.

He wouldn’t have had it any other way, since those were the weeks when his writing peaked to perfection.

As she stood now on the Swanson’s patio, Adie tugged at his arm and whispered, “Do you see that couple standing alone over by the pool? The tall red-haired girl and the handsome man in the herringbone suit?”

“Yes,” Jack replied. “I see them, baby.”

“They look as if they’re as bored as we are.”

“They do, don’t they?”

Adie tapped one long fingernail against her gleaming white teeth thoughtfully. “You know,” she said at length, “that man looks extremely interesting, if you know what I mean.”

“I do indeed,” Jack grinned. “And so does his wife.”

“I wonder,” Adie whispered, “if he’s hung as well as you, darling. I’ll bet he is, almost. I’ll bet he has a lovely long hard cock.”

Jack grinned again. She was really working herself up, all right; she was going to throw him one hell of a fuck when they got home tonight. He said, “Why don’t we go over there and introduce ourselves?”

“That’s a fine idea, darling.”

Jack’s eyes slowly, languorously, began to undress the red-haired woman as he and Adie started across the patio. Maybe, he reflected, we’ll have something in common, a starting point. And then later, when we’ve gotten to know them ... well, we’ll see about that! Damn, but that redhead is nice! If, as Adie had projected, the tall man possessed a large cock then it was a certainty the redhead had one hell of a tight sweet pussy to accommodate it...

As it eventually turned out, Adie was right ... and so was he...