She didn't add the word she was thinking: "Yet."

Before he could protest, Kim she was back out of the kitchen, gin bottle in hand, glasses full of ice and tonic. "I thought it would be better if we made them out here from now on, don't you?" She didn't wait for his strangled reply, but sat down very close to him and crossed one slim, tanned leg over the other, tightening the material of her shorts until the pulsating slit of her pussy was sharply defined, and as she mixed his drink and handed it back to him, she leaned forward so that a good deal of her creamy, globular breasts were exposed to him – with just the bare hint of her ruby colored and rock hard nipples. He felt a flush creep up his neck. Yet he was unable to take his eyes off her provocative lushness. Like it had a life of its own, his cock gave a tentative spasm against his underpants, and his testicles contracted with a lewd spark of excitement. Quickly he took a long pull on his gin and tonic.

Kim chuckled to herself, knowing the effect that Roger Carmel's emotional upheaval was having on his normally cautious, unassailable character as well as the liquor. Drinking when under the mental anguish which was wracking Roger, always hit the mind harder and faster than at other times, when a person was relaxed, as Kim knew from her experiences with married men with marital problems. She drank from her glass, savoring the juniper taste of the gin and the bitterness of the tonic; alcohol increased her own sexual fervor, too, though she could control herself if she was so inclined; now that she was with Roger Carmel.

Yes, she mused, Mr. Roger Carmel was hers, no mistake about that, even if he didn't know about it yet. She felt the initial droplets of her lubricants begin to flow from the sensitive walls of her vagina as she considered what would be taking place within the next hour. Brother, was she going to have this guy fuck her… it would be one fuck he'd never forget!