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The Boyfriend's Dad(47)

By´╝ÜPeter Jensen

It was only a matter of moments before the four resumed their wild orgiastic wantonness, in an uncontrolled flailing of breasts, cunts, cocks, and squirming buttocks…


Agnes McDonald took off her flowered hat and looked around the empty house. Where could that rascal of a husband be? she asked herself. Now, he must have gotten my message that I was coming home from Myrtle’s today. I sent it to his office last night, knowing that he’s been there working late…

And then she thought irately: Or was he there? Jealousy fumed in her breasts. She just bet that he hadn’t been at work, that he’d been off gallivanting with some peroxided hussy! And where was that no-good son of his, too? Out boozing or taking drugs, she bet. She stomped around the house in her “sensible” shoes, and the more she did, the more frustrated and angry she became. Just wait, she told herself. Just wait until either one of those bums showed up, she’d show them. Males! They were all alike, ruining a woman, only callous beasts. Why, if she didn’t have the Ladies Bridge Club presidency to consider, she’d lock them out entirely, and really cause a war! She was almost furious enough to do it anyway, and let her social standing hang. To think! The best years of her life had been wasted on men!

Sticking her jaw out, she went to the phone, thinking of calling her friend, Libinia Whye; she’d gone through two husbands and was now a contented woman living by herself and fourteen cats. It would be a pleasure to talk to her for awhile, Agnes thought. Then her eyes spied a pad of paper by the phone, and grasping it in one claw, she read the address which was written on it.

Her eyes narrowed. It was in her husband’s handwriting, but she didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t one of their close circle of friends. Business? No; it was a local address. Then who?

The Other Woman!

Now she had Mort right where she wanted him! Grabbing her flowered hat again, Agnes flew out the door to the family car which she’d taken to see her sick sister. She’d bust right in and confront that lousy husband of hers, she vowed!

She started the car, and tore down the quiet street, heading with sour vengeance and righteous indignation straight for the small home of Carla West.

But even Agnes McDonald in her wildest imagination never dreamed of what she would find once she got there. It would be the shock of their lives for all concerned…