Although Sandi knew that her husband's best friend was just trying to help her feel better, his lingering hands were making her feel most uncomfortable.

"N-no, Larry…" she sighed at last. "I… I think maybe it's b-better if I just try to s-sleep…"

Her voice was so low as to be nearly inaudible, and there was a tremulous quality to it which told the conniving manager that she was indeed feeling a reciprocal arousal. In fact, she sounded so timorous that he anticipated no problem in accomplishing his adulterous seduction. In spite of her innocent face and prim mannerisms, she'd be just as susceptible to the lure of a long, stiffened cock as the peroxide teenyboppers who hung around the Cycle Circus.

All broads are the same, he reflected as he inched his eager hands farther up toward the inviting mounds of Sandi Smith's high-set breasts. Horny bitches, the lot of them. Only difference is that it takes longer to get into some cunts than others. Never had one say no to me yet!

"Awh, don't be silly, Sandi," he insisted. "You'll never sleep a wink if you're all muscle-bound like this, and you know it. You'll just be having nightmares about Verne!"

The slender blonde gave a slight shiver at the prospect as visions of blood and flames and prison-like hospitals haunted by ghost-like, white-frocked doctors and echoing with screams of anguish ran through her alcohol-confused mind. So frightened that she momentarily forgot her embarrassment at having Larry this close to her wantonly revealed body, she clasped her arms around his close-leaning back in a childish gesture of fear. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone in the dark, silent house with such terrifying images floating through her dreams.

Yeah – she wants me bad, all right, the egotistical older man gloated. I bet she's been wanting me all this time when she acted so high and mighty. Weird chick – but sometimes they're the wildest fucks of all!