If he really needed that, he could get it from some whore. She suspected he paid for a woman on occasion, a slut who would do all sorts of disgusting things for money.

Men had these animal desires and she understood that sometimes they had to be fulfilled.

But not by her.

She unzipped his fly and brought his prick out.

The heat of his cockflesh burned her hand. The tip of his cock was leaking fluid and as usual she was repelled by it. She did not like having his juices on her hand. She did not like the wetness of fucking.

He's getting my hand wet, she thought. Sex was so miserably unclean. Sometimes Ray wanted to fuck her from the side or from behind, but she never allowed it. She did not want him to look at her like that. When they fucked, she wanted his face near hers. She did not want him looking at her body. She did not kiss his cock and he did not kiss her pussy. She would not allow those perversions.

She held his cock in her hand now because she had no choice.

She was sorry she wasn't brave enough to jerk him off right here so they wouldn't have to fuck.

She couldn't do that. She did that one time when they were engaged and it was really too much.

She remembered how his jism had squirted like a geyser out of the tip of his cock, endless squirting all over her hand and dress, on the dashboard of his car. It was really too much.

***

One hundred feet away, Emmylou Maxwell walked along the road towards her house.

She was out of school early today and someone had given her a lift to the junction down the hill.

Emmylou loved her house. The lake was wonderful and from some of the windows she could see for miles around.