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Car-Hop Wife

Ron Richard

This page copyright © 2009 Olympia Press.

Driven to despair by her brutal husband she became a sensuous



“Wanted, attractive girls between the ages of 18 and 25 as car hops at Meriwell's Drive-In. Must have good figure and pleasing personality. Apply in person to Mr. Meriwell.”

Madelyne walked down Ninth Street to the drive-in. A number of bored but very pretty girls were sitting on a bench beneath the large overhang of the building. Madelyne gasped at the near nudity of their uniforms... colorful blue tights and halters with peak caps cocked to one side of the head. The uniforms covered even less than one would expect from a bikini bathing suit. No wonder, she thought, the ad had stated the requirement of a good figure! And thus started the fantastic and almost fatal adventures of this “model” wife!


THE WHEELS OF THE TRAIN beat a rhythmic cloppiti-cloppiti against the rails stretching endlessly across the sandy prairies of Texas. In one of the luxurious Pullman coaches, a tall willowy blonde came out of the ladies' lounge and walked down the aisle to her seat, drawing admiring glances from various male passengers as she passed...

She wore a plain white blouse with a wide collar and quarter-length sleeves. Underneath, one could see the outline of a lacy brassiere that supported full, firm breasts. The low, V-neckline of the blouse, parted to display an enticing area of soft, white flesh. Her skirt swished back and forth in time with the rhythmic motions of her supple hips. Fine gauge stockings gave her graceful legs the effect of deep suntan, and her feet were encased in high-heeled shoes that emphasized the artistic curves of her calves and thighs.

She eased into her seat and stared thoughtfully into the velvet blackness of the night. This time tomorrow night she would be in the arms of her husband! How long had it been, she wondered?... two years, three months and five, no six days.

Hers had been a whirlwind courtship, but she didn't regret it. She married Bob Glynn five weeks after they were introduced at the Officers' Club swimming pool when she was visiting a friend at Fort Benning, Georgia. Two weeks later she had kissed him goodbye on the docks at Los Angeles, and he had sailed for Korea.

And now, over two years later, she was to meet Bob again in Los Angeles, and they would take up their marriage where they had left off. Things came back to her mind... how he slept with his left arm cradling her head and his right leg tossed carelessly across hers. She trembled perceptibly as she remembered how his hand would creep up her side to her bare breast while he slept, finally coming to rest there as though to protect it from the cool night winds.

Would he still want to hold her in his arms while he slept, she wondered? It brought to memory their first night together as man and wife... on a train like this. She shuddered as she recalled his savage eagerness. She had been a virgin, despite innumerable temptations on the part of the boys she dated.

Madelyne and Bob had remained in the club car, drinking whiskey and soda, until it closed. Bob rose and took her hand, helping her up. “Come on, honey. The joint's folding up.”

“Couldn't we just sit here for a few more minutes?” she pleaded.

He shook his head. “The fun's just beginning, baby. Come on... what do you think wedding nights are for?”

“I know, darling. But I'm... I'm afraid.”

Reluctantly, she let him lead her down the aisles of the darkened coaches to their car. When they reached their berth, she opened her small traveling bag to get a nightgown and robe, but Bob stopped her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I'm going to the ladies' lounge to undress,” she whispered, fearful of waking other passengers.

Bob sat on the edge of the berth and pulled her down beside him. “Unh-unh, baby. From now on, I'm in command. I'll undress you myself.”

“But, Bob...”

He gently pulled her into the berth beside him and closed the curtains. Not wanting to dirty the sheets, Madelyne kicked off her shoes and put them in a web hammock.

She could feel her heart pounding like a trip-hammer as he pushed her back into the mattress, then turned around to sit tailor-fashion facing her.

“Darling, do we have to... to do it now? Couldn't we wait a while?” she pleaded.

“Why wait, gorgeous?” he asked, running his hand slowly up and down her thighs beneath the skirt.

“Everything's so new... different. Won't you let me get used to... to this new life before we do anything?”

He grinned at her. “No time like the present to start getting used to things. Anyhow, we have so little time, I don't want to waste a minute of it.”

He bent forward and kissed her, his tongue a flaming dagger on her mouth, lasciviously drinking the sweetness from her moist, parted lips. She could feel a reverie of rapturous emotions stirring within her, and a small, delicate hand found the back of his head, where her fingers entwined themselves in his curly hair. Instinctively, her hips reached for his, and his hand found the elastic band of her panties at her waist. As he tugged at the filmy garment, pulling it almost to her knees, a tremor of nervous apprehension coursed through her and she pushed him away.

“Bob! Please! Wait...”

He sat up, smiling. “No can do, baby. You're mine, now. It's time you learned to obey.”

She lay back, limply, fearfully, and made no move to stop him as he raised her skirt and pulled the almost transparent panties down her long, graceful legs. Stockings followed, then he unbuckled the belt of her skirt and unzipped it at the side. She raised her hips helpfully as he pulled it, with her half-slip, from beneath her and tossed them at the foot of the berth. For a moment, he sat there looking at her, stroking the pliant globe of her belly, letting his fingers explore, for the first thrilling time, the fantasy of her body.

“You're beautiful!” he whispered hoarsely.

He unbuttoned her blouse, and when his trembling hands fumbled at the hooks of her brassiere, she reached back and deftly unsnapped the garment, pulling it from her beautifully molded shoulders. He stared in fascination at the animated play of her round, young breasts, nodding in invitation to him with her rapid breathing. As she lay back in the mattress, they became two creamy cushions, rising soft and proud to tips the color of cherry blossoms. Despite her fear, they were spiked like carrot tips as he encased them in the hot palms of his hands.

Her flesh was mother-of-pearl, and he let his fingers roam freely over her flawless skin. He leaned forward and pressed his lips into the deep well of her navel on the creamy plane of her stomach. Watching him, Madelyne shivered with a combination of sheer delight and tense fear. Her long, well-manicured fingernails dug tiny half-moon impressions in his shoulders as she felt the fire of his breath sweep across her rippling flesh.

Abruptly, he sat up and undressed, almost ripping the clothes away from his hard, trembling body. She watched him silently, as though she were in some exotic dream. She looked at him with limpid eyes and offered him her sensuous, crimson mouth. Slowly, her fears were replaced by ravishing, merciless emotions that seemed to know that at long last they were to be given their freedom. She gave herself over to them, eagerly now, and her body quivered like the image of a summer moon upon the surface of a mountain lake. The pillow was bathed in her golden hair, gleaming like swampfire under the soft lights. His mouth found the lobe of an ear and she trembled inwardly as his tongue delved into the folds and crevices.

For long, torturous moments, their bodies and their mouth mingled. His lips found their way, slowly, to the delicate flowers that tipped her palpitating breasts as his hands roamed over her naked arms and shoulders.

Slowly, and then eagerly, her smouldering thighs parted and she felt his weight crush her deep into the soft mattress. A scream rose in her throat as she was pierced with a searing pain. The cry died abruptly against the hot palm of his hand that he had clamped over her mouth, and then the pain was transformed into unbelievable ecstasy. Nature burst within her in frenzied explosions, and her body convulsed in barbarous rhythm that increased in tempo until she was mad with exaltation.

The roaring conflagration reached a point where she was sure no mere human could stand further Elysium, then their minds simultaneously fused in one blinding, tortuous explosion of reverie. They clung to each other desperately, slowly and breathlessly returning to reality cradled in the aftermath of gratification.


THE TRAIN ARRIVED IN LOS ANGELES at four the following afternoon. Madelyne took a taxi to the hotel where she had arranged to meet Bob and went immediately to her room to dress. He was due in an hour, and she wanted to look her prettiest.

A small mirror above the wash basin in the bathroom attracted her attention, and for a moment, she gazed at the reflection of her naked body. The mirror afforded a view only to her waist, so she pulled up a small stool from the dressing table and stood on it for a full-length image of herself. Her breasts were like ripe melons, full and mature above a slender waist and wide, softly-rounded hips. Her legs sloped in symmetrical curves down smooth thighs and supple calves to two tiny feet. She was proud of her body and had exercised daily to keep it healthy and youthful. She shivered with sensuous delight at the knowledge that within a few short hours, that body which she had kept dormant for over two years would again perform its natural functions with the man she loved.

As Madelyne sat down at the dresser to brush her long, yellow hair, the thrills of anticipation roamed freely through her. Almost any minute, now, Bob would be here! Her Bob... for whom she had waited so long! What a wonderful guy he is! And, she thought, what a horrible correspondent! His letters were almost indifferent... brief little notes that said he was all right and not to worry about him, and that he was too busy to write more. She accepted this as part of his nature, and was always grateful when she found a letter from him in her mailbox, no matter how infrequently they arrived.

Bob's last letter told her he would meet her here at five-thirty. It was five-thirty now. Any moment he would knock on the door and she would be in his arms again! Bob!... Bob! She pictured his smile, his flashing eyes and gleaming white teeth. Hurry, darling... come to me quickly!

Unable to stand her restlessness any longer, Madelyne decided to go downstairs to the cocktail lounge and have a drink. She ordered a whiskey and soda and sat quietly, trying to calm her nervousness, as she sipped it. Hardly had she become settled when the waiter approached her with a small, folded note. Her heart did a double-take as she opened it, but as her eyes glanced over the lines, it sank in disappointment.

“May I join you in a drink?” it read.

She glanced up at a man sitting at the end of the bar, smiling hopefully at her. Madelyne shook her head, letting her lips form a polite “No-thank-you” and crumbled the note in the ash tray.

In half-an-hour she inquired at the desk to ask if any messages had been left for her, but got a negative answer. Returning to her table, she ordered another drink, wanting to cry over the disappointment that was flooding inside of her.

After her third highball, she glanced at her watch for the hundredth time. Eight-forty-five! Where was he? What had happened?

A tall, handsome man, immaculately dressed, stepped up to her table. Madelyne looked into kindly, smiling eyes that matched in greyness the hair about his temples. Confidently, he sat down beside her without an invitation.

“I've been watching you for an hour, now,” he said, “and I simply had to come over and meet you. If you'll pardon my abruptness, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to set my eyes on. I'm Dorian Demetri.”

Madelyne was startled at his approach, but quickly recovered her composure and smiled at his generous description of her. She liked his neat appearance; the expensive suit, the flower in his buttonhole, the colorful tie. He had friendly eyes, she thought.

“I'm Madelyne Glynn,” she said.

He accepted her introduction with a nod and took a long cigarette holder from his pocket. “Obviously you're waiting for someone, judging by your actions, but since he hasn't arrived yet, permit me to order a highball for us.”

“Thank you. I'm waiting for someone... my husband. He's just returned from overseas, and I can't imagine what's delayed him. We... we were supposed to meet here at five-thirty.”

Demetri ordered drinks for them. “The boy must be crazy to keep such a lovely creature waiting. If I were he, I'd have been here pacing the floor on pins and needles until you arrived.”

Madelyne laughed, deciding that she definitely liked him, even if his flattery was, no doubt, part of a line. At least it sounded nice.

“That's just what I've been doing. You don't suppose anything could have happened to him, do you?”

He placed his hand on top of hers reassuringly. “Of course not, my dear. He's probably run into some of the usual red tape the army's so noted for. I'm sure he'll be along any moment, although I must admit I'll be selfishly disappointed when he arrives.”

The waiter brought their highballs and accepted a liberal tip from Demetri. He turned to Madelyne and asked, “Have you ever been in California before?”

“Just once... when Bob went overseas. It was our honeymoon, top. We spent it right here in-this same hotel, and I thought it would be nice to start it again in the same place after a two-year interruption.”

“Young people have many bad breaks these days, what with politicians getting us into one war after another. Police action, indeed. But all that's behind you now. I know you two will be happy. He must be a fine boy to have such a wonderful wife.”

“You're flattering me,” Madelyne chided. “But I like it. He is a fine person... the most wonderful man in the world.”

Demetri smiled at her enthusiasm. “You must permit me to entertain you and your husband while you're here. I'm an independent producer and can introduce you to lots of interesting people.”

“I think it would be fun, but I don't know what plans Bob may have. Perhaps we could telephone to you after we are settled down.”

“Fine.” He gave her one of his calling cards. “Keep this and call me at any time. I'll have a few people in for cocktails and then I'd like to take you two out to dinner at one of our famous restaurants.”

Madelyne put the card in her purse. “You're awfully nice... but I don't understand. Why are you so interested in doing this for perfect strangers like Bob and me?”

He smiled. “Because, as I mentioned earlier, my dear, you're without a doubt, the most exotically beautiful woman I've ever met. And beautiful women are my specialty.”

But California is filled with beautiful women. I'm no exception at all...”

“Oh, but you are, my dear. There's something warm and sincere about you that no California girl ever dreamed of acquiring. Your beauty is so natural, theirs generally artificial. Your beauty radiates from your heart.

Madelyne was about to reply when her heart suddenly stopped beating. Bob was walking through the door! With a glad, joyous cry, she rose and rushed across the room to him.

He stopped as he saw her, shaking his head and staring at her through glazed eyes. He had lost his hat, and his hair was badly in need of a comb. He fumbled at his tie that had been pulled loose into a tight, untidy knot. He was unsteady, and almost fell backwards as she threw her arms about him and smothered his mouth with her hungry lips.

“Oh, Bob! Bob!” she whispered. “Hold me, darling! It's been so long...”

He grasped her wrists roughly and jerked them from about his neck, looking down at her with a strange, forced grin. “H'lo baby,” he mumbled, swaying on his feet. “Whatcha know?”

A perplexed frown crossed her face as she looked into his dull eyes. “Bob!” she gasped. “What's happened to you?”

“Jush got a Lil' drunk, thash all. Come on... les fin' a table and lap up shome booze t' celebrate. Yep. Gotta do a Lil' celebratin'.”

Madelyne felt her heart sink in her breast. “Oh, darling! Why? Why did you do it? On our first night together...”

He glared at her, shoving her away from him and almost falling over a table at his side. “F'Chrish sake, shuddup,” he mumbled. Don' go actin'like a wife, two minitch after we meet. Get drunk if I wan' to... gotta right t' get drunk. Been fightin' the godamn war.”

“All right, darling,” she said quietly, taking his arm. “Come on over here in the corner, I have a table there.”

She guided him with difficulty to her table, supporting him when he stumbled. Demetri rose as they approached, frowning as he recognized Bob's condition. Madelyne introduced Bob and Demetri extended his hand.

“I'm glad to meet you, young man. We've been waiting...”

Bob stepped back, keeping his hand at his side and glared at Madelyne. “Whosh thish? How long you been goin' round pickin' up bastards hangin' round bars? Huh? How long you been doin' that?”

Madelyne was shocked. “Bob! What's come over you? Dorian's been very nice to me. I think you...

“Don' giv' a damn what you think!” Bob almost shouted. “I don' like th'bastard.” He turned drunkenly to Demetri. “Git goin', git th' hell outta here 'fore I bus' that pretty face of yours.”

Madelyne stared at him unbelievingly, then turned a pleading glance to Dorian. He smiled at her and bowed with dignity to Bob. Looking back at Madelyne, he said, “I believe it would be best if I took this gentleman's advice. If I can be of any assistance to either of you, don't hesitate to call upon me.”

He spun and strode away.

Bob glared at him, shouting, “Go t' hell. She's not callin' a damn soul, d'ya hear? D'ya hear me, ya bastard!”

Everyone in the lounge had turned to stare at them. Frightfully embarrassed and confused, Madelyne took Bob's arm and guided him toward the door. “Let's get out of here, Bob,” she said firmly.

He did not argue and they went silently up to their room, where he collapsed heavily across the bed. Looking up at her finally, he grinned drunkenly. “Commere, baby, an' get naked. We got lotsa lovin' t' catch up on. Les see ya strip f'papa.”

She sat down beside him, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief. “Why? Why, Bob? Did you have to get drunk?”

He rose on one elbow and glared at her. “Aw, shuddup, goddamnit! Ya mighta been glad t' see me, 'stead of raisin' hell 'bout m'havin' a couple lil'drinks.”

“A couple of drinks! You must have consumed a gallon! Why didn't you meet me here at five-thirty like we arranged? Where were you?”

“Me 'n a couple fellas 'cided t'have a celebratin' drink together. Got delayed. But 'm here, now, baby, 'n waitin' t'see what a babe looks like in the raw again. Com'on... strip an' give papa some o'that stuff ya been savin' for him!”

Suddenly, the tense flood of emotions burst within her and Madelyne fell across the bed beside him, weeping uncontrollably. She had never seen him drunk before, or so vulgar. “Oh, Bob,” she sobbed.

“You're so... different!”

He rolled onto his side and pulled her roughly beside him. “S'all right, baby... s'all right. Won' have 'nother drink.” He giggled. “Can't, anyhow... lef' m'bottle in m'suitcase downstairs.”

Abruptly, he fumbled at the top of her dress, slipping his hand beneath the material and into the warmth of her breast. Madelyne pulled away from him sharply.

“No!” she cried.

He looked at her angrily. “Whatsa matter, baby? Thish wha' I been waitin' for...”

“Oh, Bob... not while you're so drunk. Not when you're like this! Can't you understand?”

He glared at her silently for a moment, then a crafty gleam lighted his eyes. “Okay, baby... I unnerstan'. Guesh you don' love me any more... been away too long. Don' blame you.” He eased back into the pillow and stared silently and hurt at the ceiling.

“Oh, no! No, darling. I do love you... with all my heart! I'm... I'm just disappointed. Bitterly disappointed. Couldn't you have waited before you got... got so drunk?”

“You th' one who don't unnerstan',” he said, still wistfully gazing at the ceiling. “I been fightin' a war!... Been lyin' in th' damn trenches 'til I 'most went crazy thinkin' 'bout you. Wantin' you! Then wha' happens? Come home and get a Id' drunk, an' you get in a flutter.”

Quietly, she said, “All right, darling. Maybe I don't understand. I know you've been through hell. I guess you did have a right to get drunk, if you felt like that's what you wanted to do. I'll just have to get used to the change, that's all.”

She bent over and kissed him. His arms went about her shoulders and she gave herself completely to the eagerness of his mouth. Her tears wet his cheek and as she lay across his chest, she whispered, “Oh, my darling... I missed you so much. Hold me tight, darling... hold me and love me!”

He squeezed her for a moment, then shoved her away from him and sat up. “Gotta get m'suitcase, baby. Call down t' th' desk. Have 'em send it up.”

She did, and in a few minutes a bellboy brought the luggage into the room. Bob rose unsteadily from the bed and took a bottle of whiskey out of his bag. He poured two large drinks for them and handed one to Madelyne.

“Lesh hav' a Id' drink, baby,” he mumbled, “and then you're gonna get naked. We're both gonna get naked an' catch up on stuff.”

“I can't drink it straight, darling. Why don't we wait until tomorrow? Save it, and let's...”

He shook his head angrily, then gulped down the hot liquid, shuddering as it whirled into his stomach. Sitting down on the bed, again, he took her glass from her and stared into it for a moment.

“'f you don' wan't' drink it, I'll drink it m'self.”

“No, Bob!... please! I'll...”

He ignored her and drained the glass, then fell back across the foot of the bed, grinning. “No body gonna tell me wha't' do, b'God.”

He struggled to his elbow again. “Okay, baby, 'f ya don' wanna drink, we got somethin' better t'do anyhow. Time ya' strip f'papa.”

Before she could reply, his hand that held the empty glass relaxed and it dropped to the carpeted floor with a gentle thud. Slowly, he fell back into the pillow and his eyes closed.

He began to snore heavily. Madelyne fell across the bed beside him, weeping bitterly.


WHEN SHE AWOKE THE NEXT morning, he was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, bent forward with his head in his hands. As she stirred, he glanced up painfully and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. A- heavy stubble had shaded his cheek and his hands trembled violently. He moaned. “I feel like hell.” Madelyne spun around and dropped her legs to the floor to sit beside him. She felt miserable, herself. “You should feel like hell, “she said sarcastically.

He looked around the room, then back at Madelyne. “Where are we?”

“In the hotel.”

“What hotel?”

“Don't you remember?” she asked.

He shook his head, then moaned at the pain that pierced his brain. “Last thing I remember was being in some stinking bar with a couple of fellows I met on the train coming up from Long Beach.”

“Why did you do it, Bob?”

He shook his head slowly, hardly able to talk. “I don't know, baby. I just don't know. We were going to have just one or two drinks. I guess I had too many.”

That's the understatement...

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