The torment which boiled through Lonnie Carmel's mind was worse than the agonies Jennifer suffered, for the black-haired young wife and mother had had nearly twice as many years to be come infused with the mores and guilts of her parents and society. That, and she was of an older, less permissive age, and the strictures against what she had done were much stronger than the ones Jennifer faced. Yet Lonnie also had many more years of sexual experience with her husband, and her body was not beginning to be awakened but already the product of fire and lust. It had been channeled into a higher plane of awareness by the Oliss' – and that meant that Lonnie was that much more demanding and conscious of her requirements. Even as she thought of the night before and the depraved way she and her girl-friend and Zeigler had been with each other, her hands brushed her bruised, violated body, reliving the feelings.
Her fingertips cooled her hot flesh and in spite of herself, Lonnie touched one tender nipple. The little rosebud flowered into a hardened chip, and then in shock Lonnie sat up. Oh God, I mustn't! Her breath shuddered, ragged and pulsating. Control yourself. Stop this… this carnal thinking! She gazed down at her naked loins, seeing them outwardly calm but feeling that they were already a seething mass of sensual desire. Her pink-rimmed cunt lips seemed to twitch and spasm through the covering of her dark curling pubic hair, and as sore as her vagina was, she spread her legs, drawing the lips apart so that the blood colored skin and her clitoris were visible, and the darker, more wet and sensitive opening gaped, tingling from the rush of cool air.