Her thighs were full and long, and the smoothly rounded mounds of her buttocks were just the right size. Why then couldn't she manage to attract her own husband? What was wrong with her? She knew that Stan would say, "There's nothing wrong with you, Helen. If anything there's something wrong with him, but that is not the point. The point is to approach the problem from an entirely different angle."

Well, tonight, that's what I'm going to do! Helen resolved. I don't care what, I'm going to get him to pay some attention to me!

***

Adam Randolph pulled his Ford Pinto into the apartment house garage and got out. He left it at the entrance within the building, knowing that Howie would come and park it for him in the space allotted to him. Then he took the elevator up to the 12th floor and stepped out. His briefcase contained the precious notebook in which he had begun the notes on his new experiment, including the short questionnaire which he had had Betty Johnson fill out for him. He was looking forward to rereading it all in his study once he entered the spacious apartment. He lived in one of the few old apartment buildings left in New York, a spacious apartment with high ceilings and seven rooms was a luxury that the professor fully appreciated. Of course, he had gotten the apartment through a friend when he'd gotten the post teaching at the university. He and Helen had moved from New Jersey seven years before and settled into the apartment. For a while Helen had grumbled about the hectic city life and the fact that they knew hardly any of the neighbors, but eventually she'd seemed to get used to it, or as used to it as she ever would. In any case, there was no question of moving for the professor. His work was here in the city, and his position was a coveted one among his colleagues. He taught several classes, lectured two times a month, and had unlimited use of the laboratories at the school. What more could he ask?