She hung her head, ashamed. The act she'd just performed would have caused her untold anguish had she caught her daughter doing the same. What was the matter with her? Were her years of self-denial so harsh that the mere thoughts of Arnold could set her loose from sane decency? Was she so starved for sex that she had to resort to masturbation like some sex-crazed nymphomaniac? She flagellated herself for another minute with her self-abasement, and then stopped abruptly. No use torturing herself over what's already been done, she thought, can't go back and not do it now. Must be more disciplined in the future, watch my imagination and see that it doesn't run away with me as it did just now.

After another five minutes, in which she furiously scrubbed herself rosy clean, she felt better, a strange warming satisfaction overtaking her as the aftermath of her climax made her glow with overall comfort and release. She stepped out of the tub, refusing to dwell on what she'd done, only thankful that nobody had seen her, and toweled herself dry.

She walked naked into her bedroom and began searching for something light and comfortable to wear, and even considered staying nude for a moment, before the recollection of what she'd done in the tub while naked made her hastily abandon that idea. She wondered as she took out a clean pair of panties where it would lead if she continued to fondle herself into completion. In the back of her mind was the dreaded truth she didn't want to face: she wouldn't be able to deny herself much longer the needed sex she had been so long without…

CHAPTER TWO

The late afternoon traffic was thick along Main Street, as a long string of out-of-towners slowly pushed their way through in opposing streams of weary cars. Mariposa wasn't large as suburban towns went, but it was on the old "main" road between the shore and booming, metropolitan Morrison; the road was not the designated tourist route. A scenic and pleasant meander in contrast to the ferocious thru-way nearby. Most of the drivers were broiling in a stew of irritable wives and irascible children, sand pails and gritty feet, runny noses and sticky fingers, and would have given almost anything to have been on the thru-way and home that much sooner.