"You've been crying?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

She broke down. John put his arms around her and let her cry against his broad chest. He kept patting her shoulder in a comforting way as she poured out her troubles, to him. She didn't know why she picked John, but she had to tell her troubles to somebody. Maybe somebody would tell her that she was having a nightmare and that she would wake up pretty soon and Bill would be by her side.

"Oh," she said finally, still sniffling. "I guess I've been making a fool out of myself."

"Bill's the fool," John said, "for walking out on a petty woman like you."

She fooled at him with gratitude. What she needed most of all was a man thinking she was pretty. Though she knew she was an attractive, dark baked woman of thirty, she had suddenly started thinking of herself as ugly. Perhaps every woman got that feeling sometimes. Especially those women that had a husband who left them for a younger woman.

What she didn't know was that John had always thought she was a damn fine looking woman. He had watched her often when she was walking near her house. He especially liked the summer months when she and his wife would sunbathe in the back yard. He remembered a tiny black bikini that showed off her big thrusting tits to their best advantage. He had often wished he could bury his face in those sweet jugs.

Rut she was his wife's best friend and a married woman. In a way, she was no longer married and that made her fair game.

And she was ripe for it. He had the feeling that all it would take would be a little more comforting. She was melting like warm butter in his hands already.

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" Lynn asked him.

Lynn had no idea that she was courting trouble.