Zeigler could still see in his mind's eye how the once-proud Lonnie Carmel had looked when he had finished fucking her silly, sprawled nakedly open on the couch, quivering, her satin legs wide-stretched on either side and her arms dangling doll-like over the edges. Her belly had been filled to the bursting point with his hot, sticky cum, and her wet matted pubic hair had glistened lewdly in the room's dim light, the insides of her creamy thighs smeared with his white semen, which trickled together with her own co-mingling climatic lubricants and Cylvia's saliva between her soft, yielding crevice and puddled on the couch fabric below.

The lewd, evilly erotic memories stirred the heat in his blood, making his throbbing cock jerk in his pants. God, he wasn't sure he could hold off fucking that hot bitch of a wife again while Cylvia Oliss set up the deal for later on tonight. He wanted to have her stretched out again, her tight little cunt lips sliding smoothly around his hardened penis like a greased oval ring… He groaned and placed his hand down, trying to stop the building pressures in his testicles from making his now painful erection from bulging his trousers any worse than they were already.

But on second thought, why couldn't he have the luscious Mrs. Carmel again? Right now, if he wanted to – which he did. It couldn't hurt the Oliss plan; all he had to make sure was that Lonnie was at the club later. Come to think of it, what difference did it make whether it hurt the plans or not? Zeigler had already started his own machination going, one independent of the Olisses for the simple reason he had no intention of sharing the money Carmel's invention would bring to them.