She had always been a virtuous wife, but she was still, after all, a female, and she had gotten used to the lustful feel of a hotly throbbing penis sunk deep inside her hungry vagina from time to time. At Georgia's age, if Masters and Johnson were right, a woman was just coming into her most sensual period. A period when some of the former taboos inculcated by her parents had been dissolved, and when she had learned viscerally the value of a hard male member being driven upward into her churning belly. With age, a woman took taboos less seriously, although, of course, she continued to consider the threat of exposure and the need for discretion. One did not destroy a family – which was, after all, a business built up over a lifetime – merely for the sake of some fleeting sexual satisfaction and its attendant relaxation.

On the other hand, if she had wanted to have an affair she wouldn't have known where to begin. Oh, numerous of Howard's "friends" had made the usual overtures, but there was still nonetheless the omnipresent problem of discretion. She wouldn't have undercut her life with Howard for anything. Theirs had been a childhood romance which had blossomed to fruition through high school and junior college. She genuinely loved Howard, and she would always love him, even if they never had sex again.

Still, there was this terrible need which seemed to be eating her pussy alive.

The tormented young redhead stubbed out the cigarette and gazed with drooping, dreamy eyelids toward the kitchen, wondering idly if the visiting dog were still there.

Dogs, she thought. Now, dogs didn't have any such problems. They took sex as they felt like it, without incurring any social problems. They didn't mate for life, the way people did.

Georgia found herself wondering how that strange dog made out with his sex life, being so obviously on the loose, and probably on the run as well. Was it easy for him to meet accommodating female dogs in his wanderings?