Jan sighed and looked around the kitchen before her eyes became glazed over again, reliving the events of the morning once more.

With Steve in the bath, the temptation had been almost overwhelming to finish the job with her fingers. She had played with herself up between her legs for awhile, groaned mindlessly, and then finally managed to control her unrequited passion.

She hadn't masturbated since she was thirteen, and she dreaded the temptation to start now. Reverend Johnson had been very strict about that when she confided in him. Girls that played with themselves got pimples on their faces and could never go to heaven, because they were sinners. Sex was only decent when carried on in the normal fashion between man and wife.

No, she didn't want to fall into that pit of degradation. That wasn't for her at all. Somehow she was going to have to find a way to work things out between them.

Jan sighed and put out her cigarette, which she had inadvertently smoked down to a nub. It didn't do at all to dwell on their problem overmuch. One shouldn't take sex all that seriously, of course. It wasn't nice.

Still, she couldn't ignore the smoldering ardor still glowing so warmly in her soft white belly and simmering urgently in her young loins. But was that so important? Not always. After all, they did love each other, didn't they? Steve's real estate job was very promising, and they were literally coining money. What young bride could ask for more than the beautiful home they were buying in swank Barrington Hills? Even their nice new car was paid for, and the furniture would soon be theirs. What more could any girl ask for?

It was these thoughts spinning idly through her pretty blonde head that she almost ignored the banging on the screen door.

Until a voice cried out sharply: "Jan – oh, Jan!"

Jan looked up dreamily. There was a scratching at the kitchen screen door as well. Why – it was Marge Levitt! With Rex!