It was already late afternoon, and Beth Anderson knew she was going to be late for her appointment. She had totally miscalculated how far the Thompson residence was from the city, and now, as she drove along the rural, two-lane highway, she wondered if she would have to stop at a motel for the night on the way back.
Beth had worked for the social services agency for six months and had handled a variety of cases but never a sexual abuse incident. The person who normally took care of such cases was on vacation, and Beth had agreed to take it. Now, she wondered if it was such a good idea.
When she first read the case report the previous day, she actually found herself becoming aroused and had to make a deliberate effort to bring herself back to the reality of what she was supposed to be doing. The girl, Diane Thompson, had apparently told someone that she and her stepfather had been having sexual intercourse for the past four years — ever since she was 12. The story quickly was reported to the authorities. It wasn't so much the fact that the pair had been having sex that turned Beth on so, as it was the graphic descriptions the girl provided. And it wasn't just vaginal intercourse, either.
As she maneuvered the state car along the curvy road, Beth replayed in her mind the contents of the report lying beside her on the seat. Diane had told how her stepfather first made her suck his cock and swallow his semen. She described vividly the slightly off-white color of his juice, its heat, richness and thick odor, and the enormous quantity he produced each time he ejaculated.
Jenny Marie Jenkins felt that her life was finally starting to look up. Her husband had finally opened his own architectural business and was on the edge of taking off. She had worked so many long hours grading papers, making out lesson plans and paying for class supplies the school didn't have money for, that she was really getting sick of teaching her high school classes. She had spent her summers working on her master's just to be able to keep her teaching certificate.
All this time, her husband had been working for one of the best firms in New York for almost no credit. He had constantly designed award winning designs that his boss had won numerous prizes for. Finally, in a fit of anger and frustration, he had quit in order to open his own office.
Office space in New York was draining Jenny's account. If not for her modest inheritance from her parents, it would have been impossible; but she believed in her husband and had gone all out to help. Joe had done a number of very small commissions that barely broke even when they were done. Never-the-less, he had won some recognition for the design of several small homes. He just never got the big enough break that would set them on easy street.
Jenny's inheritance was just about gone. The bills for engineering on the last project were coming due. The landlord was giving Joe several letters that their rent was way past due.
Joe had called her to say that he was meeting a client for dinner and he was hoping that she could join them. The news was not new. He had brought the subject up a number of times. Jenny was willing to do whatever it would take for Joe's success, but did not know enough about architecture to be of much help.