Chapter 04 of Campus Nymph by Greg Caldwell

1962 GENRE: Vintage Sleaze | Promiscuous Wife

... PROMISCUOUS WIFE

Boiling passions and naked carnal desire on a college campus ... Night after night, beautiful, passionate Gay tossed sleeplessly on her lonely bed, wondering what had gone wrong with her marriage. Where was the ardent lover who just couldn't keep his hands and lips from her voluptuous body less than a year before, when they were first married? Why was Roger always "too busy"—or "too tired"? When she learned that Roger was involved in a torrid romance with one of his students, Gay decided that what was sauce for the gander was gravy for the goose ...

With provocative abandon she turned to Karl, the virile young college athlete who was never too busy or too tired.

... And Martin York, an accomplished connoisseur of the techniques of love ... Until one day she found herself caught up in a web of seething sin from which there was no escape, and learned what it really meant to be a …

… CHEATING HUSBAND ...

CHAPTER FOUR

As soon as they got home, Gay started in on Roger. She whirled on him as soon as the door was shut.

"You damn bastard!" she cried. "And you told me that little Doris was upset about a boy friend! You had the gall to lie to me, when everyone on campus knows about you two!"

"Now, wait a minute, wait a minute," said Roger with dignity. "What are you talking about now? I can't understand you when you rave."

She was being made to feel like a child, like a stupid student. He would not get away with that.

She slowed down her words, she said clearly and distinctly, "You were seen with Doris Hammond at the Shelby Hotel two weeks ago. You have been carrying on an affair with her ever since we returned to the campus. Everyone in college knows about it. Everyone is pitying me for having such a husband. Now do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Everyone does not always know the truth. Are you taking the words of gossips against my word?"

"Frankly, yes," said Gay. Was he going to keep on denying this? "Both students and faculty have told me about the affair. Evidently before you went to Rome, you and Doris were practically engaged. Then—"

"Yes, we were," said Roger, taking off his necktie with careful precision that grated on her. "We were practically engaged. Then I met you, fell in love with you, and married you. Doesn't that satisfy you?"

"It satisfied me!" said Gay. "But evidently it didn't satisfy you, or Doris Hammond. She couldn't quit, could she? She had to keep on trying to get you! You must have begun again as soon as we got back."

"I saw her again, yes," said Roger, hanging up his suit jacket in the closet off the living room. He pulled out the sleeves and patted the lapels. Gay clenched her fists to keep from screaming at him. He hated scenes. "She was very hurt that I had married you.

I tried to explain. She began going out with other men, but none of them appealed to her. She finally went rather steady with one man, then he abruptly stopped dating her. I explained about that."

"The word is that he stopped dating her because she was an iceberg. Her affections were directed toward you, evidently!"

"She still loves me, yes," said Roger, rather proudly.

"It has been hard for her. You must be patient."

"Patient, hell," said Gay, losing all her patience. "I'm married to you, and you're helling around with one of your students, and I'm supposed to be patient and understanding about it! Let me tell you, Roger, I'm not going to sit still for this kind of horsing around."

"I might have known you would resort to vulgarity."

She struck him angrily. He caught her fist, twisted her arm back of her, pulled her close. He kissed her deliberately.

"When you're angry, you're a little barbarian," he said, admiringly. "I guess that's what attracted me to you first. You're real primitive."

"And you can't make up your mind whether you want to make love to a primitive or to a lady like Doris Hammond," she snapped. "Let me go! Damn you, let go!"

He kissed her harder, pulling her tight. "Stop it, stop fighting me. I haven't made love to you for two weeks, and I'm crazy for you."

"Oh, Roger, quit that! Stop—don't do—stop—"

But he kept on kissing her. She wrenched herself away.

"Damn you! I want an explanation of what you're doing with that bitch!"

"And I want to make love to you!"

He pushed her backwards, whirled her around with unexpected strength and pulled her into a big chair with him. He held her across his knees, and kissed her fiercely. In spite of her anger, she was melting. His very touch burned her, and made heat rise up in response.

''Roger, I won't have you running around with other women!"

"Then make me want to stay home!" He kissed her on the throat. She turned her head away.

"Do you admit you've been having an affair with her?"

"We met a couple times, that's all. I feel sorry for her."

She tried to struggle out of the chair and his arms; he held her all the tighter. "I'll leave you! I won't play second fiddle to any woman! If you don't stop seeing her—"

"I have to see her. She's in two of my classes and I'm her advisor on her senior project."

Gay stopped fighting for a minute. After all, Doris was a senior, she would be graduating, she would leave.

"Then you won't see her after June."

"She's going to join the faculty as an instructor in English."

Gay jumped right out of his arms before he could stop her. "That goddamn bitch!" she raged. "She's going to stay on here? She has the gall to join the faculty? Who put her up to that? Did you encourage her?"

"Sure, I did. She's a good teacher." Roger pulled her back in his arms. "Now, calm down, Gay. She'll get over this infatuation for me! It won't last. I'll ease her out of it. You'll see. But it takes time. I can't let her commit suicide or anything like that. I have to be careful."

He kissed her arm and shoulder, pulled down the green satin of her formal to kiss her breasts. "Oh, Roger," Gay groaned. "Why do you torment me like this? I'm your wife, you married me. Why do you keep on seeing her?"

"I told you, darling. I have to. I'm a teacher, after all. I feel responsible for my students."

She shook her head, but his kisses were having their effect. He was kissing her the way he used to kiss her in Rome. She lay back in his arms. He pulled up her dress, pulled down her panties. He opened his trousers.

"Sit on my lap, like we used to," he urged huskily.

'"Darling, darling. Come on. Love me. I want you so."

He had not wanted her like this for a long time.

She was hot for him too. Obediently, she raised up, sat down carefully on him. They jolted together. He groaned with pleasure.

Carefully, luxuriously, she wriggled closer. He drew her tight, hugging her, pulling down the green satin so he could squeeze her breasts with hard brutal fingers.

Passion was flaming through her. Her hips were trembling, her legs jerking convulsively.

He drew her face around so he could kiss her lips.

Their parted mouths met. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, in wet kisses, rolling his tongue around inside her mouth. The wild caresses set the rockets off inside her. She cried out, stiffened, and waves of passion rocked her.

He withdrew hastily from her embrace. "Oh, Roger, stay, stay," she moaned.

"We can't take chances, darling," he said. He held her tightly, but it wasn't as good.

He knew she was disappointed.

"Come on to the bedroom. Dress for me," he urged.

He led her back to the bedroom and as she took off her dress and shoes he dug into the dresser drawer.

He pulled out a pair of brief black lace panties and a strapless brassiere of gaudy red lace.

"Put these on," he ordered. "And your black high-heeled shoes."

Obediently she stripped to the skin, he watched avidly as she put on the red brassiere, and the small black panties. The panties scarcely covered her across the thighs, they tied at each side with small black bows.

He drew a deep breath of delight.

She went to the closet, found the high-heeled black shoes and put them on. Then she paraded before him, up and down the room, showing off her slim figure in the suggestive brief clothes. His eyes shone, his face reddened as he looked at her.

"Kick at me," he said. She paused in her walk, and kicked one foot high up at him. He caught it, held it a moment, looking at the panties as they stretched. He laughed out loud. "Go on walking now," he said, as he let her foot down again. "I'll get undressed while you walk."

She walked up and down rolling her hips, rocking her shoulders so her breasts would stand out under the red lace. This was the way he loved her. This was what he had always wanted in Rome—parading herself before him, showing off her body to him, with the exotic lingerie emphasizing her bust and hips and legs.

He undressed deliberately, watching her all the while.

When he was naked he lay down on his bed and stretched out, his hands under his head. "Go on walking," he said, when she would have come over to him.

She walked around the bed, bending over to show him her buttocks, turning to bend to him so he would see her breasts swelling under the lace. She showed him every position, like a model to a photographer, and his face was red and his eyes bright as he stared hungrily at her.

She kicked up at him from the end of the bed. "Hold it high," he said. "Hold it—let me se—"She held it as long as she could, then got up on the bed.

He reached into the drawer of the night table beside the bed.

"Oh, Roger, don't," she protested. "Not tonight."

"It won't spoil anything, I promise," he said.

She watched him in silence until he was ready.

"Come on, darling, now," he said.

She lay down on him, crouching so he could see her breasts and thighs. He caressed her with his hands, slowly. He thrust one hand into the panties until they pulled tight and cruelly across her thighs. His fingers dug at her until she was about wild with pain and pleasure.

"Take them off! Hurry, Roger, hurry!"

He unfastened the small black bows and pulled off the panties. He drew her down on her thighs. She sighed with relief as they came together. She kicked off the high-heeled shoes and sank down deeper, her legs wriggling and kicking rhythmically, the way he liked.

She bounced up and down on him. She reached a peak quickly, cried out and sank down on him. He was flying too. If only that damned artificial membrane weren't there, maybe she could start a baby tonight.

Oh, damn!

She rolled away from him. As she lay beside him, he caressed her with his hands and legs. Then she felt him putting something on her thighs. She peered at her legs. He was putting the panties on her again, fastening the small bows carefully.

She lay back. He certainly loved to see her wearing those suggestive bits of clothes. They seemed to rouse him more than seeing her naked. Just so he was roused thoroughly, thought Gay. She drew him down to her once more as he began kissing her breasts.

He nuzzled at the red lace, at the white mounds trying to burst out of their tight coverings. His lips nibbled at the flesh, his tongue licked at her around the lace.

"Take them off, darling. They're so tight," she murmured, rubbing his head with her hands.

"No, I like to see the red against your flesh," he said. He pushed and nuzzled at the breasts. They were swollen now, and the nipples were taut. She wished he would kiss the nipples the way Karl had.

That had been delicious.

"Take it off," she begged, presently. "We can have more fun if you do. Let me show you." She put her hands on him.

He pushed her hands away. "No, darling. No, I won't take chances."

"But darling, I want a baby," she said passionately.

"I want a child. I don't want to take precautions. Let me have a child. Please, Roger. Please, darling, let me."

"Not yet. Not while we're· enjoying life so much. I don't want to be tied down."

He would not be persuaded. She sulked as he went on kissing her. He laughed at her. He turned her over and spanked her where the panties ended. She kicked out.

"Don't spank me! Stop that! I won't be spanked!"

He kept on spanking her slowly, hard spanks that really hurt. Then he stopped and kissed the reddened flesh, his mouth biting her. He liked to be brutal sometimes.

He kissed her, then spanked her again, hard. She protested, and he only laughed. "You like this, you like me to be rough," he said.

"No, I don't. Not that rough." She tried, to squirm off his knees as he held her.

He struck her again, his hand making a flat sound against her firm hips. Then he unfastened the bows of the panties and took them off once more. He struck her on the bare flesh, again and again. Gay protested vigorously, kicking and squirming on his knees.

He pushed her down on her stomach on the bed.

He seized her and his body jolted into hers from the back. She groaned, submitted. She was on her knees, he crouched over her like a stallion thrusting at a mare.

She braced herself on her forearms and crouched, head down, waiting for the ordeal to be over. She felt all soft and loose, all coming apart from the turmoil of hating him and loving him and being angry with him and wanting him furiously.

He thrust back and forth, rhythmically, faster and faster, came to a peak, pushed her down across the bed and rested all his weight upon her.

She was tired, so tired. But he was thoroughly aroused and did not want to stop. She lay naked across the bed and let him go on and on, dressing and undressing her with the flimsy bits of exotic lingerie, spanking her to rouse himself, kissing her all over with open mouth and lingering tongue.

It was four in the morning before he quit, rolled over and went to sleep. She staggered out of his bed, and went to the bathroom and took a shower.

As the warm water rolled comfortingly over her hot and stinging flesh, she mused wearily upon men. Roger was such a proper man in public. He was so dignified, wanted everything to be just right. Only in Rome had he kissed her in public. Only when he was away from home did he put his arm around her on the street.

And only in the privacy of their bedroom did he let himself go like that. Wanting her furiously, treating her like a prostitute, she thought angrily. She wondered if he treated Doris like that. Doris was a lady, Roger had said. Did ladies get spanked and dressed in black lace panties and treated like a mare at breeding time?

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

Roger wasn't treating her like his wife at all.

Why had he married her? Impulse. He was away from his girl, and he needed a woman. So he married her—and now he was regretting that he had married her instead of Doris.

She soaped her tired limbs carefully. Oh, she ached all over. He had pulled at her flesh, dug at her, mauled her and spanked her until every bit of her body was sore. She would be covered with bruises tomorrow.

Tenderly she examined her hips where the tight panties had bit into her flesh. After the shower, she rubbed cream into the worst places. He was a brute, she thought.

Finally she turned out the light and went back to the bedroom. Roger was snoring complacently in his bed. She crawled into her bed and stretched out wearily.

Tomorrow was Saturday. They would sleep late, and then when Roger came to her bed in the morning they would talk seriously. They would discuss the future, and children, and Doris. She promised herself that.

When she wakened, the sunlight was streaming across her bed. It must be quite early, she thought. She rolled over to go back to sleep, and saw that Roger was gone.

She sat up with a jerk. She looked at the clock.

Nine o'clock. Then she saw the note.

Angrily, her hand shaking, she reached for it, opened it.

"Dearest Gay, I didn't want to disturb you this morning. I have to go to Shelby this weekend on business. I'll be back late Sunday night. Don't wait up for me. Have a good weekend. Roger."

"Oh—hell!" said Gay, with deep emotion. He had walked out again.

Angrily she flounced back in bed. She lay awake thinking. Where could he have gone? There were too many hotels in Shelby to search for him. But without looking, she knew damn well where he was with Doris.

With that bitchy, itchy, female boa constrictor, that damn—

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was so mad. She was so mad. She would show him she couldn't be treated like this. She would show him, but good!

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