Caressing fingers fluttering across his belly brought Bill Sherman back from the fantasy of his dream into reality. He stirred, stretched, and then shifted his head on the pillow. He opened his eyes. He couldn't see a damn thing. The unseen hand on his belly moved slowly along his rib cage, across his chest, and came to rest on his shoulder. Strong fingers kneaded his thick muscles with a gentle, but insistent squeeze. Blinking his eyes several times, he cleared away the small grains of sleep which had gathered in the corners. He tried to separate his still sleeping mind into the neat compartments of wakefulness. Finally managing it after several deep breaths and a low, soft grunt, he rolled over on his side and lifted his head, cupping his chin in the palm of his hand. "What?" he mumbled.
"You rolled over and it came out," a feminine voice whispered sadly. The hand that had been insistently squeezing his arm now slid downward, coming to rest on his hip. The fingers tapped.
"Would you like a cigarette? Then we'll see if we can get things straightened out and in their proper place again," he said, reaching over the dim shape next to him and toward the small lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. Punching the button on the lamp, a soft glow filled the room. Blinking his eyes, Bill adjusted them to the light. He squinted his eyes and groped across the figure next to him, looking for the package of cigarettes which he knew should be on the night-stand. His fingers finally closed over the crumpled pack. Shaking two from the wrinkled container, he picked up the lighter lying next to the ashtray. He lit both of them slowly. Handing one to the girl lying next to him, he flopped on his back, drawing deeply on his own cigarette. The acrid smoke bit his throat and lungs. It tasted lousy. To take his mind off the foul taste of the cigarette, Bill turned his head and looked at the girl at his side.
She had big tits. Not hanging melons, just big, firm, rounded globes of solid flesh. Otherwise she was thin. Not skinny, but thin. Maybe that's why her tits looked bigger. She was lying on her back with her head propped up on the doubled pillow. Watching as she breathed, Bill saw the gentle rise and fall of her twin white mounds. Her dark nipples were small but pointed. The lighter circles around the tips also were small and dotted with the tiniest pimples of raised flesh.
He looked at her face. It was well formed with good bones. Her cheeks were set high and she had a firm chin. He noted the small mole on the right side of her face, on her cheek just under the eye. It was real. It gave her face a coquettish quality. Unfortunately this was offset by one misaligned tooth which spoiled her smile, and her nose was just a bit flat.
Turning, she looked at him, and Bill quickly smiled, flushing with guilt for his frank, appraising thoughts. She smiled back and Bill fixed his eyes on her dark brown hair which cascaded in soft waves to her shoulders. Simply parted on the left side, it was allowed to hang free.
Leaning over the girl, Bill flicked a long ash into the ashtray by the bed and, as an afterthought, picked it up and placed the glass container on the girl's bare stomach.
"Hey! That's cold."
"I'll warm you up later," he promised.
Watching as her ribs rose and fell with her breathing, he noted that they were barely visible beneath her creamy flawless skin. She did have good skin. The stomach was flat with just a hint of firm muscle beneath the smooth texture. Her thighs and legs were long and tapering, well toned with the muscular construction of a dancer's.
Bill's eye was caught by the patch of curly brown hair which spread across her lower belly, spreading upward from the juncture of her thighs. Barely discernible under the curly mass was the raised mound of her pubis. She was tight, he recalled with a stirring of his loins. He had had to push hard to effect an entry, but once his prick was well seated, her cunt had spewed out its lubricating juices in profusion and his cock had slid in and out of its slick aperture with ease.
Taking a final drag on his cigarette, he crushed it in the ashtray, watching the girl's muscles contract and harden against the pressure of the glass. He might as well get at it, give her another ride, and then try and get some sleep. This routine was really becoming a bore, he realized as he flopped on his back. When he first started this routine about a year ago, it had been what every young man might dream about for a job. He was just out of the army having served in Vietnam for most of his two years of compulsory service. When he got out, he started to look around for something to do. And then he had hit on it.
It was a television program which first gave him the inspiration. He had been bumming around with the hippie crowd on the Sunset Strip, reading all the underground papers and just doing his thing. But one dull evening he had watched a Western. It was one of those usual crappy offerings of the boob tube about the bad bounty hunter tracking down the wanted man.
Becoming bored, he had flicked off the screen and picked up the latest issue of an underground paper which he hadn't read. He had idly glanced at the articles and illustrations. Out of curiosity he had started to read the classified section. Under the Personals section he noted that many families were running ads asking that their sons or daughters contact them, or seeking information as to the whereabouts of a son or daughter. Some even offered a reward for their return or for information leading to their location. Bill had sat bolt upright. That was it.
He could swing with the hippies and try and find these kids and then collect the offered reward. Not knowing how much he could make at it, he figured he'd give it a try just for kicks. Surprisingly, it had worked quite well. He had been amazed at the number and size of the rewards he was able to get.
At first he had only contacted those parents who had offered money in their ads, but later he'd contacted all the advertisers when the hippie movement started to go on the wane. Finding it harder and harder to get clients, Bill was caught in a financial squeeze. He was losing his market. Bill realized that pretty soon something would have to give, but he tried to put the thought out of his mind. He wasn't ready to take a regular job inside the Establishment but he was hard pressed to pay his bills. Letting his mind wander over the problem, Bill tried to find an answer, but it eluded him. He had to have more time.
"Hey, remember me?" the girl asked, rubbing him across the chest.
Not realizing that he had been staring at the beamed ceiling of the bedroom until she spoke, he grunted, trying to bring his mind back to the present. Sue Ann Blake, he thought as the facts and figures clicked over in his mind.
"Sure, baby. How could I forget a prize package like you?" Sue Ann Blake, he thought, you're worth five hundred dollars to me because your dear mother is concerned about you and wants you home.
As a matter-of-fact, Sue Ann's mother was waiting in a swank Wilshire Boulevard hotel. She'd have to wait a little longer. Bill was going to collect a little fringe benefit first, he thought as he looked at the hairy muff and the mound nearly hidden beneath it.
"Ever watched yourself doing it?" he asked.
Sue Ann's gray-green eyes widened and her thick brows arched up as she shook her head negatively.
"It's kicky," he said and indicated the large mirror hanging above the low nine-drawer chest against the wall opposite the foot of the bed.
Her eyes followed the nod of his head and a small smile came to her lips when she saw their images reflected in the large rectangular glass above the chest.
"Want to try it?" he asked as he ran his hand over her stomach.
Nodding her head, she kept staring at their mirrored images.
Circling her waist, he pulled her to him, bending his head and pressing his open lips on hers. As his tongue probed past her parted lips, he looked at the girl through narrowed eyes.
Her eyes were open and looking directly at the mirror. Suppressing his laughter, he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. If she were looking, he'd really give her something to see. It was the least he could do under the circumstances.
Nibbling at her lips with his teeth, he felt the returning pressure of her hot mouth as their wet tongues met and dueled. His arm circled under her shoulders, gripping her arm. The raised position of her head would give her a better view of the mirror. Moving his other hand across her body, he kneaded the warming flesh, pressuring the points of pleasure. He cupped one of her large, firm breasts in his palm, moving it in a small circle and pulling at the globe until she responded by arching her back, pushing more of the willing flesh into his hand. Playfully tweaking the nipple, he caused it to rise, hard and rigid. Pulling his lips away from hers, Bill nuzzled her neck, letting his tongue trace wet streaks of glimmering saliva across her sensitive skin as his hand continued its ministrations at her breast. Playfully biting her earlobe, he heard a soft moan of pleasure escape her lips. She had hot ears, he observed as he poked his wet tongue into her ear to determine what her reaction would be. It was animal. She gasped.
Circling his back with her hands, she started a rhythmic stroking of his flanks. One of her hands, more adventurous than the other, insinuated itself between their tightly pressed bodies and sought his stiffening member. Gingerly touching fingers brushed along the lengthening flesh, cupped the hanging testicles and lifted them, as if measuring their contents. She delicately pulled at the sac then hefted the walnut-sized balls in her palm. Her seeking hand left a trail of small sparks as it moved to the base of his now hard and swollen member. Grasping the base, her fingers curled around its thickness. Sue Ann moved her hand up and down in the time-honored imitation of intercourse.
Bill enjoyed her actions and reduced his activity to a slow and steady nibbling of an exposed earlobe while he let her bring him to full and rampant readiness. She was good, but he'd had better. All Sue Ann really needed was a little more experience in bed. She was a very fast learner. Well, she was young and had her whole life ahead of her. She'd make out just fine, he decided.
Taking the initiative once more Bill dropped his head to her waiting breast and sucked a turgid nipple into his mouth. While he flicked his tongue across the tip, he sneaked a look at the mirror and saw the girl staring at their combined reflections as his head pulled at the sensitive dark skin at the center of her breast. She pushed it against his mouth and he savored its taste with his rolling tongue and nipping teeth.
"Mmmmm, bite 'em. Bite 'em hard," she moaned, heaving her body upward.
By way of silent but effective reply, Bill bit down on one of the turgid brown berries and rolled it hard between his teeth.
"Oh! That's good. So good."
He stole another secret look at the mirror. She had her head thrown back and her eyes were closed. Probably having a small orgasm, he thought, and continued with his efforts.
Reluctantly letting the teat and breast slip from his avaricious lips, Bill moved them in small, wet trails across her rib cage and belly. He dipped his tongue in salute to the perfection of her dimpled navel. He poked it with the pointed tip of his tongue. Writhing on the bed, she moaned out her pleasure with abandon. His now open mouth engulfed first one then the other of her two protruding hip bones. Working his jaw back and forth laterally, he felt her jump with the sensations he was sending coursing through her pelvic area. His mouth moved on to greater conquests.
While his mouth and tongue were working their joint motions, his hands had lain slack on her thighs. Now they joined in the grand finale.
Stroking the outsides of her thighs to the knees, he moved his hand between her legs, gently parting them. Brushing the tender surface of her inner thigh with feather-like strokes, he moved his hand to her crotch. His roaming fingers could feel the heat being generated by her hungry loins. Bill's nostrils were now assailed by the musky smell of her readiness. His fingers brushed against the lips of her cunt. They were open and he could feel their dripping wetness.
Shifting his whole body suddenly, Bill lay between her outthrust thighs with his head on her belly. He couldn't see the mirror now, but this position would give her the best possible view of what he was about to do. Planting a wet kiss on her lower belly, he gripped her buttocks with his palms. Bill felt her fingers entwining themselves in his long red hair, pulling his head up.
"What are you going to do?" she asked in a puzzled voice.
"Kiss you," he replied matter-of-factly.
"But I've never I mean, no one has ever-" she stammered, trying to find the right words.
He didn't let her finish. "Just watch, you'll like it."
Without waiting for her reply, he lowered his head to her tight cunt and pushed his nose between the wet, waiting lips. He held his tongue back, not letting it explore her fully. This was her first time, he thought, I'd better make it good for her and not spoil her for someone else. Extending his thumbs, Bill placed them on either side of her damp lips. He pulled the lips apart as his tongue licked gently along the outer surfaces. Finding the small hard bud he was so avidly seeking, he flicked it with the firm tip of his tongue. He heard her sudden intake of breath and knew he had the right spot. Working at the pearl-shaped button, he made it pulse and rise so it stood like a sentinel at the entrance to her pleasure cave.
Her pelvis was making small, involuntary movements, pushing her cunt closer against his mouth. Bill retracted his wet probe and nibbled at the standing trigger with his lips, pulling it with a slow gentle pressure. A gasp broke from her lips and her pushing hips became more animated. Forsaking lips, Bill nipped at her clit with his teeth, drawing it out still further. Sue Ann moaned and arched herself hard against his mouth. He shifted and rammed into her gaping pussy with his tongue. A grunting moan greeted his increased efforts, and he started thrusting into her with greater strength and speed. Sue Ann suddenly clapped her firm thighs around his head and, grasping his hair in her clutching fingers, pulled his face into her. Her body was twisting and thrusting on the bed, and had she not been holding Bill so tightly he would have lost his juicy connection.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she moaned, jamming herself at him.
She was coming, Bill thought. Her tight opening was pulling and sucking at his tongue as it reamed into her. Her box was like a miniature mouth, grasping and pulling with urgent desire. Jabbing into her as deeply as he could, he felt her body suddenly arch, her hips rising so high that she was supporting her whole weight on her shoulders. Her entire body strained as she sought more and more of him and he moved to give her what she sought. Suddenly she collapsed on the bed with a flop, breathing deeply through her mouth.
Slowly moving away from her, Bill planted a shaky kiss on her sweating belly. His neck was stiff and sore from the effort he had just made, but it had been worth it. Moving up next to Sue Ann, he stretched full length on the bed.
"Did you like it?" he asked as he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her face against his chest.
"Nice," was her only comment as she snuggled closer to him.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said.
Sue Ann pulled her head back, turned her face to him, and asked frankly, "What do you get out of it?"
"If you enjoyed it, then that's enough," he said noncommittally.
"Do women do that to men too?" she asked with a naivete which caused him to smile inwardly.
"Yes."
"How?"
"Just like eating a candy cane."
"Would you like me to do it to you now?" she asked.
"If you'd like."
"Will you be able to do anything else after I've done it?"
"If I stop you in time," he said as he settled himself more comfortably on the bed.
Not moving for several moments, Sue Ann seemed to be considering something very carefully. Finally she moved her head from his chest and started leaving a trail of wet kisses across his ribs and belly. Her thumb and finger circled his ramrod-stiff prick and pulled at it in a slow imitation of masturbation. Bill watched her as she slid down in the bed to get in a more convenient position.
Resting on one elbow, she still held his prick upright with the other hand. Sue Ann was looking intently at the bulging vermilion head, cocking her head to one side as her gaze dropped down the length of the pink-white shaft. Hesitantly moving her head forward, she licked her lips like someone just finishing a piece of fried chicken. Her head lowered. Her tongue moved out and tentatively flicked at the small slit at the end of the purple head. Bill's prick throbbed and jerked at the touch. Sue Ann's head snapped up and she looked at him, a frown clouding her face. He smiled back reassuringly. Again her head lowered and her tongue lapped at the head. His rampant member jerked again, but she pursued it with her lips. They made a small O, capturing the very tip. Her tongue prodded again and Bill's prick throbbed once more and escaped her lips. Opening her mouth, she grabbed at the wildly jerking cock with her lips.
Bill could almost hear the chomp as she made good her capture a second time. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he realized that she hadn't bitten him. She held the head lightly in her mouth and then moved slowly down the shaft. He felt the tip hit the back of her throat and watched as she sucked her cheeks inward and started moving her head upward. Pulling back until just the head was between her lips, Sue Ann teased it with her tongue.
Bill felt it jerk and pulse in the hot confines of her wet mouth. Sue Ann released Pier thumb-and-forefinger grip on the base of the staff and let her hand drop, cupping his balls. She lifted them, feeling the weight and roundness. Her head started moving down the shaft and Bill rose to meet it. His hips started a movement of their own and she adjusted to it, moving her head up and down in time to his pelvic thrustings. Bill felt the first contractions deep in his testicles. He watched as the spit-slicked rod pis-toned out of her mouth. The hot sperm was moving in the deeper cavities of his body, seeking the light which would give the release to the fast-building tensions in his gut. He stopped working his hips and knotted his fingers in the hair of her bobbing head. He pulled her gently upward, off the wildly swinging cock, wet with her spit. Watching as the prick jerked and slapped against his belly, she slid upward in the bed and cuddled close to his chest.
"Was it good for you?" she asked him, wrapping her arm around his waist.
"Very good," he said as he rolled over on his side facing her. Reaching down, Bill pulled her leg over his waist, then raised his hips and arranged her other leg under his waist. He pushed at her opening with his hips. Sue Ann, who had passively let herself be pushed and pulled about as he arranged her, now inserted her hand between their pressed bellies and grasped his shaft. Guiding it to the proper orifice, she wiggled herself into a more comfortable position. Feeling the head of his prick against the hot hole, Bill pushed gently and felt the lips part as he sank into her body with a sigh of contentment.
Wrapping his arms around Sue Ann, Bill started a slow pistoning action with his hips, sending his ramrod steadily into her body until their pubic hairs ground together. Sue Ann was starting to move her hips in rhythm with his, thus reducing the length of his stroke. Their actions became more violent, desperately trying to find the release for the wild, gut-knotting tensions building within their bodies. Bill rammed at her hard, and Sue Ann returned the pressure, her cunt lips sucking at his cock as it pulled out. He felt himself building quickly to his final completion. The hot lava of his sperm was running through his tubes, seeking the warmth of her womb. Jamming at her small opening, moans of pleasure broke from his lips as he felt the first flutter of her vaginal muscles around his raging prick. His spunk raced down the last long passageway and, with a shuddering cry, Bill slammed into her hole as he came, spewing forth and filling her.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," she cried out as she grasped him tightly, convulsive shudders racking her body in pounding waves of released passion.
Bill groaned as the second and third spurts from his pulsating prick sent his milk offering into her fast-filling tunnel and he felt the pulling tug of her muscles along the entire length of her tube. She pulled at his prick, drawing all there was in him out, and then decreased in intensity, slowly and steadily.
Lying with his head buried against her white neck, Bill was breathing deeply. He could feel his heart racing in his chest. Small droplets of sweat dripped from between their pressed together bellies. Bill was conscious of the warm glow which settled over him with a lulling heat. They rested quietly for several long moments.
"That was nice," she said sleepily.
"Uh-huh," was all he could manage as he listened to her even breathing.
As he stretched his arm toward the light switch on the lamp, Bill thought again about what he had to do later that morning. Snapping the light off, he snuggled closer to the now sleeping Sue Ann. He hadn't been able to think about what he had to do when she was able to see him. This business was getting downright repulsive. He had arranged to deliver Sue Ann to the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Vine Street by noon. After letting her out of the car, he would then drive away.
What Sue Ann didn't know was that Bill had arranged to have her mother waiting in the music store on the corner. Their meeting would be a chance affair, thus leaving Bill free and clear of any suspicion. He was careful about that because if the word got out he would be finished, or nearly so anyway. He had already collected his money, so that was taken care of. Bill always collected in advance. He usually managed to have the worried parents get a look at the girl he had found so that they were sure. They were more willing to part with their money then, Bill had learned when he first started his rather unusual occupation.
Trying to get some sleep, he noticed through the window that there was a grayness creeping into the sky. If it wasn't for the money, he'd get the hell out of this racket, but what could he do that would give him the same income? Crap!
He closed his eyes against the rising light coming through the window. He felt like a heel. He genuinely liked Sue Ann. She was fun and pure in a special sort of way. He hoped her mother and she could patch up their differences. He thought they had a good chance. Her mother was understanding and concerned. He had tried to explain it to her and she had listened carefully. Well, at least she will make an effort, he thought as his mind closed and he dropped into a deep and exhausted sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
A bulky-knit sweater landed at Bill's feet as he pushed his way into the dimly lit room. The pulsing jingle of tambourines, pierced by the beat of a small Indian drum and the lilting, but plaintive melody of a recorder, assailed his ears as soon as he had closed the rickety door. Leaning down, Bill picked up the heavy sweater, then dropped to his haunches next to the doorway.
He waited while his eyes accustomed themselves to the dim blue light bathing the crowded room. He could make out the undulating shape in the center of the room and decided that was where the sweater had come from. Deciding to play it by ear, he settled back, placing himself as comfortably as possible against the thin wall of the apartment. His nose twitched and then wrinkled as his scent buds caught and held the pungent burnt almond smell of weed. As his eyes adapted to the faint light, the undulating form in the center of the room took shape and became real.
I wonder if she's a real blonde, Bill thought to himself as he watched her supple body start to bend and sway in time to the weird music. She was bare to the waist except for several strands of beads which swung loosely in front of the swelling mounds of her breasts. Bill's eyes riveted on her breasts. They were large and lush, held up firmly by youthful muscles. The beads brushed across the two pink nipples as the girl moved slowly back and forth, like an upright pendulum. Bill noticed the nipples begin to swell and pout as the beads brushed hard against them again and again as the girl swayed from side to side. Her hands were held at her sides, flat against the curve of her hips as she moved in time to the music.
The beat increased, and the blonde began moving her feet to the rhythm. She bent at the waist, throwing her large breasts forward, then straightened, arching her back and shaking her shoulders from side to side with the beat of the drum. The breasts shook and the knotting muscles of her smooth, flat belly rippled. As she arched back, she brought her hands slowly upward, sliding them to the front of her hips, then up over the well-defined mound at her crotch, tracing a delicate pattern across her stomach and coming to rest under the swaying breasts. She bent forward slightly and then back again. Straightening again, she cupped a tit in each hand, kneading and lifting the heavy, full flesh. The blonde teased each nipple with her thumb and forefinger, rolling the delicate tips, bringing a glow to the already pink and straining points.
Some of the people lying around the room started to clap in time to the music, encouraging the girl to continue her erotic dance. Soon most of them who were crowded into the dingy room, including Bill, began clapping their hands as the tempo of the music built.
"Go, baby, go. Do your thing. It's all for love," some of the more vocal members of the group called as they clapped sharply.
Apparently pleased by the attention and encouragement, the dancing girl started circling the group, her hands waving at her sides. Her hips were sensuously moving in one direction while her now heaving breasts and shoulders were thrown in another. She took long steps as she circled the room with a series of slow and graceful pirouettes. She moved to the center of the circle as the tempo of the music again increased. She stood with her legs wide apart, the cloth of her bell-bottoms stretched tight over her rounded thighs as she gyrated her hips forward and backward in an imitation of the act of love. Bill Sherman felt a familiar stirring in his loins as she increased the violence of her movements. Wadding the sweater, he stuffed it into his lap. It would be his introduction. The lush blonde now had her hands stretched over her head, lifting her breasts even further. Her hips were making fast circles as she moved them back and forth in time to the music. Small beads of sweat were running down between the gorgeous globes, making her body shine and reflect in the dim blue light. Bill watched as the beads gathered and then tumbled down her muscled stomach, dipped into the indentation of her navel and then trickled to the belted waist of her bell-bottoms.
The music was pounding now, thumping a violent rhythm of raw passion. The girl was jerking her hips forward and back with exaggerated speed. She dropped her arms to her sides once more, and her shoulders and elbows also started to move back and forth in time with her wildly jutting pelvis. The music and movement built to a near ear-splitting crescendo and then came to a crashing stop as the girl lifted on the balls of her feet and spun to the floor, ending with her legs crossed, head and shoulders bent forward between her thighs.
During the brief moment of near-deafening silence which followed the ending of the wild dance, Bill looked quickly about the room, searching faces. They were mostly old regulars whom he knew well.
Forgetting the people for a moment, Bill looked at the room itself. There were splotches on the peeling plaster walls, a threadbare rug which was spotted with the droppings of various previous tenants and ragtag collection of furniture which looked like rejects from the Salvation Army. It was a typical hippie pad.
Hippies, he thought, bless their little lovin' hearts. They kept him in bread. They provided him with a wide and varied sex life. He was one of them, but then again, he wasn't. Bill believed as they did in the hypocrisy of the straight society, but he couldn't stand the way they lived. The squalor and the hand-to-mouth existence revolted him.
Bill looked like a hippie when it suited his purpose. His reddish hair was long, but not too long. It was just long enough so that he could cross that tenuous line between the hippie society and the Establishment. When he was making the scene, Bill wore the uniform of the hippie culture. Garish velvet shirts, bright Indian beads, hip-hugging pants which flared at the bottom, flat-nosed boots and wide leather belt. Of course, when he was dealing with the parents, he dressed very conservatively in a suit, tie, freshly laundered white shirt and plain shoes.
He had carefully cultivated a select group of hippies whom he helped out now and then. He provided bail money when they were busted by the narks. Sometimes he paid the rent or supplied wine and beer for their parties and. it wasn't unknown for him to invest in, a little hash now and then for a really cooperative friend. He had always told them that they were not really being traitors to their society's code of ethics, but merely buying a little insurance against a bad bust by the narks, or some other disaster which money could repair. It worked out well all around, but Bill tried to keep such contacts to a minimum.
Getting to his feet, Bill made his way to the blonde girl still slumped in the center of the floor. Her back and sides were heaving with the effort of her lungs to gather enough air to supply her depleted system with oxygen. Sweat still poured from her body and dripped from her flanks to the floor. Squatting down next to her, he waited until the breathing became less labored.
"You might need this," he said holding out the bulky sweater.
She lifted her head with effort. Brushing her long tresses away from her face, she looked at him with deeply probing blue-gray eyes.
"Thank s," she said simply, taking the sweater from his hands and getting to her feet. She held it demurely before her nakedness, still keeping Bill's eyes in the locked grip of her frank stare.
"My name's Bill Sherman. You new around here?"
Her eyebrow arched up, then she turned on her heel and walked away toward a bedroom in the rear of the small pad. A kook, Bill thought, and moved toward another part of the living room.
As he made his way between the various clusters of people, Bill nodded to some, caught snatches of conversation, and checked carefully for any face which might resemble one of the pictures he carried in his pocket. He was about to give up and hit another crash pad. This was his usual method of operation. He would go from pad to pad just looking at faces and taking in the action.
He was moving toward the door when he spotted a pair of well-formed legs ticking out from behind a low couch which had seen better days. Deciding to see what was attached to the legs, Bill moved around the end of the couch and stared down at the girl sitting with her back against the badly peeling white plaster wall.
She was young and apparently couldn't handle her grass too well. Holding an empty water glass in her hand, she stared blankly at the floor in front of her sandal-clad feet. Her short minidress was hiked up around her hips. She wasn't wearing much makeup, just around the eyes, which had been lined with black pencil 'to accent their shape. Her hair was light brown and worn straight, parted in the center in the standard hippie fashion. Looking closely, Bill knew he was going to earn a fee tonight.
Kneeling down next to the girl, he gently shook her by the shoulder. "You okay?"
Turning her head in his direction with an obvious effort, she looked at him with bloodshot staring eyes. Bill smiled reassuringly. She didn't say a word, but merely shook her head negatively with a small pout on her pale lips. "Have you got any place to crash tonight?" he asked.
Again the girl answered in the negative, taking a deep breath and letting it out with a whoosh. As she inhaled, Bill's glance darted to her bosom and watched it swell beneath the thin fabric of the dress.
"What's your name?"
Jerking his eyes up from the curving mounds, Bill looked at the girl's face. Her eyes were slowly focusing. "Bill. What's yours?"
"Manda," she said with a long sigh of expelled breath.
"Looks like you had a little too much grass," he said casually as he sat down beside her, placing his back against the wall.
"I'm hep, man," she said.
"That can be a real bummer," he said. "Especially in the morning."
"I dig, baby," she replied taking another deep breath.
"like to make it out of here and see if you can get your head straight?" he asked her hoping she would agree without to much fuss.
"Why not," she said. "This is a drag."
Clambering to his feet, Bill turned to help Manda get up from the floor. As he pulled her to her feet, she wavered, tried to take a step, but stumbled and fell heavily against him. Her breasts pushed and flattened against his chest and he felt their firmness. As his arms moved around her to steady her, he felt no restriction beneath the thin dress. She wasn't wearing a bra, he noted with pleasure. She had grabbed his shoulder when she fell forward and now moved her hands, running her fingers into his long, red hair. Pulling his head down, she tilted her face up and opened her lips.
Bill held her tightly as he kissed her, feeling her tongue work across his lips then slip gently into his mouth. He met the invasion with his own tongue and they stood together for a long moment, swapping spit. Her little probe was everywhere at once. On the roof of his mouth, his lips, across his teeth. It was seeking, finding, feeling with its own urgency. She finally pulled her head back and looked at him with a small smile playing at her wet lips.
"You're groovy," she commented, slurring the words.
"So are you," he said. "Have you got a coat of something?"
She merely shook her head and stepped back.
Bill quickly moved to her side in order to help steady her as they stepped over the groups of people lounging in various states of undress. As he turned toward the door, his gaze swept the room once more, just in case. He spotted the dancing blonde standing by the front door idly smoking a joint and looking at him intently. Holding tightly to Manda, Bill made his way to the door managing to stumble only once across a couple who were trying to imitate the act of love through their clothes. Bill breathed a silent sigh of relief as he and Manda got to the door without major mishap.
"Thanks for holding my sweater," the blonde said coolly, blowing a stream of smoke in his direction as he pulled open the door.
"Anytime," he said as he started to propel Manda through the opening and onto the porch.
"Got yourself a winner," she said with a warm smile.
"I hope so," Bill replied, regretting that it was strictly business. He really wanted to drop Manda and make a real pitch for the blonde. She was a rare find, one worth pursuing.
"Have fun," she said as she closed the door.
Bill turned his full attention to Manda who had been leaning up against him during the entire conversation with the blonde. Circling her waist with his arm, Bill started down the long walkway through the rundown court and to the street. Once on the sidewalk, Bill steered Manda toward his white Volkswagen parked at the curb. He could have afforded a more expensive car, but then he had his role to play and anything more pretentious would have been suspect. Opening the door, he eased Manda into the passenger's seat. She plopped into the low seat, exposing the sheer, pale green panties she wore under the simple white minidress. Bill's eyes appraised the white expanse of firm thigh and he didn't feel too bad about leaving the blonde. There was always another night. He walked quickly around the car to the driver's side, opened the door, and slid into the seat. Starting the car, he looked at Manda. She had slid down in the seat, her dress hiking up around her hips. Her head was thrown back against the headrest, her lips were parted, and she breathed evenly. Hell, she was asleep already, Bill thought with a feeling of disappointment and disgust. She was worth three hundred dollars to him. Not dead or alive either, but alive and in reasonably good condition. He wanted her more lively than she was at this particular moment; a lot more lively. He again thought of the blonde and her wild, abandoned dance. She was new and different in some way. He'd have to meet her again and the sooner the better.
Putting the Volkswagen in gear, Bill Sherman pulled away from the curb and headed the little car toward the Hollywood hills.
CHAPTER THREE
Knotting his tie with a quick sure tug, Bill looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was putting on his parent uniform, having an appointment with a client in a few minutes.
Remembering the night before with Manda, Bill scowled and shrugged his strong shoulders into his conservatively cut coat. He brushed lint from the lapel and stepped in front of the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. Manda had been a disaster area. He had carried her into the house and started to put her on the couch when he heard the first ominous rumbles from her stomach. He had barely managed to get her to the bathroom in time for her to convulse and pour out the putrid-smelling contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl as he steadied her. She had mumbled something about being sorry and feeling better as he guided her back to the couch, laid her out, and threw a blanket over her inert body. The experience had left him hollow and disgusted.
His prediction of the night before had come true when Manda arose in the morning. She looked and had said she felt god-awful. Fixing her breakfast while she took a needed shower, Bill had hardly contained his impatience to get rid of her. He had a feeling of utter and genuine relief when he dropped her at the agreed upon corner and pulled his small car away from the curb. Her parents were waiting and they deserved her. He'd earned his money.
Glancing at his watch, Bill walked into the plush living room and looked around. His spacious house in the Hollywood hills was the one real luxury he permitted himself. His whole personality was wrapped up in this house. It wasn't really a big house, but it was comfortably commodious. Perching precariously on the side of a steep canyon, the full-length windows looked out on a panoramic view of the city below. The living room opened onto a terrace which stretched across the entire front of the house. There was only a single bedroom, but that was all he needed. His kitchen was compact and efficient.
Decorating the house carefully and tastefully, Bill had unknowingly made the home an imprint of himself, a monument to his dichotomy. Psychedelic paintings in black light, giant posters, and symbols colored the walls. Works of twisted welded sculpture stood on tables and cabinets. Grotesquely plump African fertility statues in black wood looked across the expanse of thick carpet and plushly rich, leather sofas and chairs which accented the fireplace set in a rough rock wall in one corner. Bill sat down on one of the chairs facing the fireplace, letting his hand-tooled leather shoes rest comfortably on the long-haired steer hide laid appropriately in front of the fireplace. Relaxing as the softness of the chair enveloped him, Bill looked up at the beams of the ceiling holding up the roof with their massive rough-hewn strength. The whole atmosphere was permeated with an air of masculinity. He liked it.
Putting his restful solitude aside, Bill rose to answer the ringing doorbell. Mrs. Martin was right on time, he observed, looking at his watch. She must be worried.
She stood on the rock and concrete porch, a small piece of white paper fluttering in her hand. She was younger than he had thought, and better-looking. As a matter-of-fact, she was absolutely beautiful.
"Mr. Sherman?" she asked hesitantly, a cloud of doubt crossing her eyes.
"That's right, Mrs. Martin," Bill said, stepping back from the open doorway to allow her room to get past.
Brushing by her to lead the way into the living room, Bill caught the rising scent of her perfume. It was heavy with promise but light in its fragrance. Ushering her into the living room, Bill let his eyes rove over her figure. She took good care of herself, he could tell that right away. Her jet black hair, partly covered by a trim hat, was swept up off the back of her neck. The simply cut, but modernly chic, two-piece tailored suit she wore had the look of rich luxury and fine workmanship. She was class, he concluded after his quick perusal.
Looking about, as if trying to get a sense of direction, the woman was completely unaware of Bill's evaluating gaze.
"Very interesting place you have, Mr. Sherman. It's not at all what I expected. But then neither are you," she said, turning to face him.
"Thank you very much," said Bill gesturing toward the couch. "Won't you sit down?"
She placed herself carefully on the edge of the couch, smoothing her skirt under her as she did so.
"It's a little early, but would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Maybe a little later," she replied. "I'd really like to get started if you don't mind."
Flat and appraising, her eyes drilled into him as he sank into an overstuffed chair opposite her.
"My niece, Terri, left home about two weeks ago and my husband and I haven't been able to locate her through the regular channels. You said you might be able to help when you called in response to my ad. Is that true?"
"Possibly," Bill said evenly, "It depends largely on whether or not Terri is in the Los Angeles area. There has been a movement to Big Sur, Colorado, and New Mexico lately. Have you tried those areas?"
Pulling off her white gloves, she waited before answering. "Yes, but we got nowhere. Both my husband and I know that she is in the Los Angeles area somewhere because she wrote a letter to a girl friend. Unfortunately, the police have not been very encouraging, it seems that they are swamped with runaways," she said with irritation sharpening her voice.
"That's true," he said, watching her as she took a filter-tipped cigarette out of her small purse and nervously tapped the end on the heavy, hatch cover coffee table. "And, even if they were not swamped, it's extremely doubtful whether or not they could find her anyway. If they did it would be by the purest chance."
"Why?" she asked, flicking a gold lighter into a steady flame and touching it to the end of her cigarette.
"Because the police represent authority, and authority is resisted by hippies because the police are the personification of all that they repudiate within the established society," Bill said flatly.
Taking a long puff of her cigarette, Mrs. Martin let the smoke curl over her lips. "Why would Terri want to become a hippie or even associate with those kind of people? I've worked hard to bring her up right, with all the things that money could buy and then some, just so she would have the best. Now she's run off for no reason I can understand and apparently taken up with these hippies, with their sex and dope and all of that. I just plain don't understand her at all," she said in angry frustration.
Getting to his feet, Bill started pacing up and down the room, stopping only long enough to light his own cigarette and draw deeply. He looked at Mrs. Martin with a frank, open stare, which was returned with a flicker of challenge. "I'll need Terri's picture the more recent the better."
"Of course, Mr. Sherman, I brought one along," she said, digging into her handbag and pulling out a small manila envelope. She handed it to Bill without comment.
After sliding the color picture from the envelope, Bill looked at it closely. It was a short-haired version of the dancing blonde he had met the night before. "Just how badly do you want to find Terri?" he queried the woman sitting firmly on the couch.
"Implying what, Mr. Sherman?" she asked sharply.
"Implying nothing, Mrs. Martin, but I have other commitments and if you expect me to give your matter special consideration then we had best come to an understanding right out front as to what and how much that extra consideration will be."
"You don't beat around the bush, do you, Mr. Sherman? I like that it shows forcefulness and self-confidence. To be frank, Mr. Sherman, I want Terri back home within ten days. If you can do that, I'm prepared to make it worth your while. Understood?"
"Why all the rush?" Bill asked.
"I really don't think that is any of your business," she bristled. "If you locate Terri in ten days, you can make a lot of money, if you just want to ask a lot of personal questions that are none of your concern, then any further discussion is fruitless," she said, rising from the couch, her eyes glinting with anger.
Bill reassessed the woman standing a few feet away. She was hard. Harder than he had originally thought. He was picking up some heavy vibes and he didn't like them. She was holding out when there was no reason. He decided to accept the challenge her hard eyes were thrusting at him. "Listen, Mrs. Martin, the fuzz either can't or won't help you. So if you have a deadline to meet and I can deliver for you, then you need me more than I need you. Since that is the case, we play the game my way. I call the shots all the shots. Either we play by my rules or I pick up my marbles and go home."
They were standing a few feet apart. Their only contact, the projections of their wills centered in the pinpoints of their pupils and locked in a silent, but violent struggle for power. Time stopped. Only their minds functioned. Silent wills leaped into the intervening space, clashing, twisting, and struggling for ultimate power. The air crackled with the tenseness of the battle silent but awesome.
Bill hung on with a fierce, stubborn pride that had been his hallmark all of his life. He'd hung on through a fatherless childhood, through the uphill grind to get an education, and in the slime-coated rice paddies of Vietnam. He'd been tempted many times to chuck the whole thing, to back off, extricate himself from an uncomfortable position, but he had always hung in there, casting aside his doubts and fears.
Even as he watched, his eyes unwavering, Bill saw Mrs. Martin falter, then, with a sigh, break the hold of their locked eyes. She fumbled in her handbag and drew out a long, filter-tipped cigarette. Bill quickly stepped forward, his flaming lighter extended.
"Thank you, Mr. Sherman," she said, drawing in the smoke. "Since we are going to be working together, may I call you Bill? It seems a little more friendly."
Bill Sherman's face broke out into a smile as he watched Mrs. Martin return to her seat on the couch and cross her legs, showing the tautness of her thighs. She patted the cushion next to her, saying, "Sit down, Bill, and I'll tell you the whole story, so you'll understand."
Sitting down next to her, Bill made a mental note of the new softness that was expressed in Mrs. Martin's face and posture. She was relaxed, seductive even. He relaxed against the cushions and waited.
"You're very strong-willed, Bill. I like that. It means that once you take something on, you'll stick with it. But we can take that up a little later," she said, placing her hand lightly on Bill's arm.
He felt the warmth penetrating the cloth covering his arm. There was just the hint of tightening in the fingers. Bill flexed the muscles in his arm to return the implied offer.
"Suppose you tell me why it is so important that you get Terri back within ten days," he said evenly, pretending to ignore the pressure on his arm.
The hand left his arm, and he looked into her frank, brown eyes, smoldering now with deep fire.
"As I said, I'm Terri's legal guardian. Her parents and an older brother were killed in an auto accident when she was only three. Her father was my older brother. After the accident, the court awarded me custody, but my brother's will provided that his attorneys be named as executors of his estate. To be very frank, Bill, I think that those shyster lawyers have robbed the estate blind, so I need Terri to testify in court in order to be named executor of the estate as well as her guardian. So that's why time is important; the court hearing on my petition is only ten days away and without Terri I really don't stand much of a chance of winning."
Fanciful numbers spun through Bill's brain, clicking over with calculator-type regularity. This was money big money--money enough to buy his freedom if he played his cards right. He wouldn't have to cop out to the Establishment. If he could pull this trick off, he could have his cake and eat it too. He was human enough that the idea appealed to the larceny in his soul, but then those who never took advantage of a situation fell by the wayside. He decided to gamble, to push for as much as he could get.
"Okay, Mrs. Martin, just what's in this for me?"
"Would, say, a thousand dollars be fair, Bill?" she asked, smiling and leaning closer.
"Peanuts!" Bill almost barked. "You're playing for big stakes too. I'll lay it out in front for you. As far as I'm concerned, this hippie movement is dead. It's spread out in a hundred different directions. There's no centralization anymore. So, to make a long story short, I'm looking for a new line of work, but one that gives me the freedom I want. You want control of a large estate; I want part of the action."
Again, Bill watched as Mrs. Martin's eyes hardened and narrowed to tiny slits as she looked at him with a new and frankly appraising manner. He could almost hear her mind clicking over as she weighed his demand. As he watched, the hard look softened and she leaned closer. His nostrils took in the scent of her and he was pulled toward her by the magnitude of her physical beauty. His eyes reassessed her figure with a quick flicker. When he again looked at her face, she was smiling broadly.
"Just which part of the action did you have in mind, Bill?" she teased.
He'd been caught with the meat in his mouth and he knew it, so he played along and leaned back on the couch and smiled, "How about the whole ball of wax? Sort of a melding of talents," he answered.
"A very bold offer, Bill, but an intriguing one. Why don't you let me sleep on it? Since you feel that locating Terri offers no major problems, then time loses some of its importance, doesn't it?"
Still playing the game, Bill decided to move boldly. "Since you want to sleep on it, will it be your place or mine?" he asked with only the hint of sarcasm edging his voice.
"You play a very bold game," she admitted, standing up and smoothing the tiny wrinkles on her skirt. "Which way is the bathroom?" she asked.
"Through that door and at the end of the hall," Bill replied with a wave of his hand and a nod of his head.
"Thank you," she said, striding across the room and then pausing at the indicated doorway. "By the way, my name is Millicent," she informed him as she turned and disappeared through the door.
Closing the folded louvered doors of his closet, Bill finally heard the toilet in the bathroom flush and the door open. While Millicent Martin had been occupied getting ready, Bill had taken the time to pull off his clothes and hang them neatly in the closet.
Working quickly, Bill had first .closed the curtains, shutting off the late afternoon view of the canyon, and turned down the zebra-striped spread on his king-size bed, exposing the red satin sheet and pillow cases.
As he turned toward the door, she walked through it, looking small, wrapped in his short hapi coat with the vividly colored Japanese designs on the back. Her perfectly rounded thighs and legs were accented by the coat's short length. Bill had been so busy evaluating her legs that he had completely forgotten about his own complete nakedness.
"I suppose you greet all of your bedroom guests that way," she said, walking to a chair and neatly draping her dress, slip, and other underthings across the back.
"Just about," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his elbows. Swinging his feet onto the bed, Bill stretched out on his back, his fingers locked comfortably behind his head. His limp prick arched across one thigh in a wrinkled bow.
She walked across the room and stood in front of him, her legs spread slightly, hands on hips. "Well?" she asked archly.
"Well, get in bed," Bill replied, lying back on the red satin sheet, his eyes dropping to take in the smooth skin that stretched tight over her thighs and legs. Her muscles were flexed, she was still a little mad because she had lost in their first battle of wills. Now she was using her sex in a second effort to dominate him. Fuck you, he thought.
Unballing the fists that she had defiantly placed on her hips, Bill watched from beneath half-closed eyes as she brought her hands together over the firmly tied bow holding the two sections of the coat closed. Pulling at one end of a strand with one hand, she held the garment closed with the other. With deliberate slowness, she tugged at the sash until it fell free and hung loosely from the belt loops in the back of the jacket. Still holding the edges of the hapi coat together, she placed a bare knee on the edge of the mattress and looked down at Bill's hooded eyes, and then at his flaccid cock hanging limply against the deep tan of his thigh.
"You could at least show a little enthusiasm," she said, shrugging the coat off her shoulders but still holding it closed with her hand.
The action was done deliberately to provoke Bill, but he wasn't about to fall for that old bit. She'd have to run some heavier numbers before he'd play her game. He was playing for keeps and she'd have to play his game or not play at all.
He looked at the swelling mounds of her breasts pushing out from the sides of the vee made by the coat as it gaped open. The bottom hem had risen slightly, giving him a tantalizing view of her well-formed thighs. As he watched, Millicent let the coat drop to the floor and stood at the side of the bed, letting Bill's eyes wander over her entire body indiscriminately.
Hard, pointed breasts crested by tiny, dark nipples met his eyes as he took in her body with a sweeping glance. The lateral lines made by her ribs were barely visible and framed the firm line of muscles running down her belly and into the puffy mound of her richly dark pubis. Bill noted that the hair over her mound twirled and swirled in a thick mat of tight curls that shaped themselves into a perfect triangle.
Bill sensed that her every move was calculated for its maximum effect. She was trying to get him hung up on her body, taunting him by flaunting her beauty before him in an effort to gain back the advantage she had lost in their verbal exchange in the living room.
Kneeling on the bed, she leaned over his body, letting the silky, soft strands of her hair brush across his legs and thighs. Bill clamped his teeth together. This was his moment of truth. He'd have to be at his best in the next few minutes if he was going to win the biggest prize he had ever tried for in his short life.
As her long, loosely hanging hair brushed sensuously back and forth across the hardened muscles of Bill's belly, she shifted her body with a natural flowing movement, straddling his legs with her parted thighs. "Just lie back and relax," she cooed, "you're going to like this."
She was going to top-ride. Bill ordinarily enjoyed this from time to time, but now wasn't the time. He waited while her face moved closer to his, her lips parting in invitation. The silky veil of her hanging hair closed around his face and head, her lips moved toward his own, her tiny tongue-tip flicking out and across the freshly scrubbed surface of her lips, making them glisten in the soft afternoon light that filtered through the drawn curtains. Her hands slipped up over his strong shoulders, gripping him with firm fingers. Her head cocked to one side and then their lips met, fused, and sealed themselves together in an ever-increasing heat.
During the several moments that it had required Millicent Martin to work her way over Bill's prone body, he had worked out his strategy. The time for talking was past. He had already won that round, so he didn't have to risk his position by reopening a verbal exchange. Now was the time for action. No words, just action, his kind of action.
Despite his efforts, the first tingling waves of sensation ran their twinkling fingers over his flesh as he felt her body pressing closer to his own. After their lips joined as one, he shot his tongue deeply into her mouth before she could insert hers into his. As their saliva-coated tongues dueled in her mouth for supremacy, Bill felt the hard points of her puckered nipples press hotly against his chest. Then the bristling brush of her pubis rubbed against him as her hips settled lower over his crotch. She swayed from side to side, letting their crotches scrape together sensuously.
Lifting his arms, Bill encircled her small back, gripped her behind the neck, and, with a sudden, heaving lunge, bucked upward. Twisting to the side with his hips, Bill threw Millicent off his body and onto her back. Pinning her soft shoulders to the bed, Bill straddled her body, his powerful thighs resting on either side of her rib cage. His hands gripped her wrists and held them secure despite her frantic struggle to free herself. Their struggle caused Bill's cock to sway back and forth in front of Millicent's face. Her eyes rolled from side to side as she watched, almost hypnotized, as the thick piece of wrinkled meat slapped each of his thighs. Scooting forward on the bed, Bill felt the backs of his thighs rub across the hard pinpoints of her perky nipples. They drilled two spots of heat into his skin.
"You sonofabitch" she spit at him, "I don't want it this way."
"You'll take it any way I want to give it to you," he said between gritted teeth. Leaning forward, Bill pinned her arms under his knees, his cock swinging freely just above the thin line of her tightly compressed lips. Her eyes again glued themselves to the swaying bulbous head with its slitted tip.
Millicent made a final effort to break loose from the hold that had her pinned to the bed, but Bill was firmly in place and could not be shaken from his perch despite her wriggling and arching. The strain of her efforts brought small beads of perspiration to her forehead and upper lip. They caught the light in the room and shimmered as she strove to break free. Her thrashing body was pressing hard against Bill's, making him aware of the firmness of her flesh and the wiry strength that lay hidden beneath the voluptuous exterior.
As their bodies rubbed together in their mutual struggle, Bill felt the first waves of passion ripple across his stomach. His cock jerked and rose away from his thighs, thickening and straightening in its journey upward. It bowed out in a shallow arc, the head swelling as it filled with blood, which changed its color from a rosy pink to a deeper vermilion.
As his prick rose, stiff and proud, Bill released his vise-like grip on Millicent's wrists. Her arms were still pinned beneath the weight of his knees. Holding his stiff prick in one hand, he wrapped his fingers into the dark strands of her hair and yanked hard. Her mouth opened in a cry of protest and Bill's prick slid in between her lips and settled in her mouth. The sudden, sharp pain and the foreign intrusion into her mouth made Millicent struggle fiercely to dislodge Bill from his superior position and reject the hot flesh that was invading her mouth.
Bill held her head tightly with both hands and as she gagged out a cry of insult and indignation, Bill slid more of his cock into her mouth until at last he felt the bulbous head bump against the back of her throat. He half expected her to bite down on his inflamed prick, but the harsh grip of her teeth never came. Her struggling efforts slowly ceased and her resisting mouth held his rampant member loosely within its warm, wet cavern.
"Now suck it and don't give me any shit!" Bill spat at her, shoving his hips forward.
Bill could feel her body loosening and relaxing, her taut muscles becoming softer and more pliable. Her slack mouth tightened around his cock, and her cheeks pulled inward as she drew hard on the staff that had invaded her mouth. Bill felt her tongue slide wetly across the head of his prick as he suspended himself above her prostrate body, his hand still gripping her head tightly in its grasp. He'd won. She was doing it his way.
He relaxed, letting the sensual sensations created by Millicent's sucking mouth engulf his body, making it tingle and surge with waves of pentup passion. He matched the sensual undulations of his bodily systems with a gently rolling sway of his hips. The action sent his cock in and out of Millicent's mouth. He was literally fucking her in the mouth and was enjoying it. He didn't give a shit whether she liked it or not, he liked it fine.
Releasing his tenacious hold on Millicent's hair, Bill rested his weight evenly on both hands. Moving his knees back, he unpinned her arms. This would be her chance, if she wanted to use it. She could fight back again, but Bill didn't feel that she would. He had established himself as the dominant partner.
With the weight off her arms, Millicent circled Bill's waist, rubbing his flanks and hard, knotted stomach. Forcing her elbows between his thighs, she gripped the hard shank of his cock so that he could not push too far into her mouth. With her other hand, she cupped his hanging balls, kneading and rolling the two spheres that were encased in the wrinkled sac hanging between his legs and bumping against her chin.
Bill felt her tongue as it slid and lapped at the head of his prick. Millicent was holding his prick so that he could not thrust too deeply into her mouth and gag her. He thrilled to the wet clamp of her mouth as it drew at his cock, her spit dribbling down the stem and dripping off the end as she drew it free of her mouth.
Holding him back, Millicent took several deep breaths and, as Bill watched from above her, snaked her tongue out to caress the slit at the top of his cock. Tilting his dick in the air above her face, she let her tongue play along the underside of the shaft and around the base of the glans. It jerked with involuntary spasms, the throbs pulling her hand and taking his cock temporarily out of reach of her thrusting tongue. Having permitted her this one indulgence, Bill eased his hips forward with persistence, reinserting his dong in her mouth. As she held it tightly in her fist, Bill rocked back and forth, sending his meat in and out of her mouth like a piston in a well-oiled cylinder. His bodily fluids were being drained from every part of his body and centering in his bludgeoning cock.
Millicent's tongue was increasing its licking and stroking of his hot flesh as it pushed in and out of her mouth. She sucked hard as Bill pulled his cock from the tightly compressed restriction of her lips. He liked her mouth. She could suck fairly well, and could be an expert with a little practice.
Bill felt the come boiling in his balls as she turned them over in her hands. The viscous fluid was building in the small reserve deep within his body, gathering and waiting for the time it could pour forth and saturate everything in front of the spitting cock's head. That would be one way, Bill thought, but it wasn't the one he had planned. There would have to be more than just fucking this chick in the mouth until he came. He would have to establish his dominance beyond a shadow of a doubt. If he didn't hurry, it would be too late.
Rocking back, Bill pulled his dripping cock from Millicent's mouth. Her lips pouted with displeasure and her brows knitted themselves together in a deep frown. Bill looked down with pleasure. She liked sucking him off. So far so good. Now for the next step.
"Bill? Let me finish you this say. I'll make it good for you, I promise," she said, a pleading look in her eyes.
Either she was one hell of an actress, or he had it made from here on out, Bill thought to himself as he took his weight off her body and knelt by her side on the bed.
Without a reply, he grabbed Millicent Martin roughly by the hips and pulled her over on her stomach. The rounded cheeks of her small ass jutted upward and flattened slightly as she relaxed the bunched muscles that banded her backside. Reaching down, Bill grabbed Millicent's ankle closest to him and pulled it roughly aside, spreading her legs in a wide vee. Walking on his knees, Bill got between her outspread legs and started pulling her hips back so that she was pulled to her knees. She resisted again, attempting to stay flat on the bed.
"No! Not that way! I don't like being fucked like a bitch dog in heat. Let me turn over and do it that way, or let me got on top. I like that the best. Let me do it my way, you'll love it, I promise," she pleaded with him.
Her cries and arguments fell on deaf ears. Bill was busily shoving her legs further and further apart and getting her knees planted well under her body. She was now standing up on her knees. Circling her supple waist with one arm, Bill grabbed the back of her neck with the other and pushed her forward harshly. Her head turned to the side as she was jolted forward by the force and power of his arm, her hips held in place firmly against his tightened belly. She didn't even have a chance to break her fall with her hands. Her head hit the pillow and she buried her face in its soft folds, gripping the satin sheet with her balled fists.
"You'll take it any way I want to give it to you," Bill snarled as he guided his prick toward her now open pussy.
"No! You'll hurt me. I'm not ready," she complained bitterly as the head of his cock nestled itself in the soft folds of her cunt's lips.
"Don't shit me, you cunt!" Bill exploded, "You're practically a running river," and he jammed himself forward, burying half his length in her slushing channel.
He felt the resistance of her flesh as the tissue grudgingly gave way before his relentless prick as it plowed into her with all the force he could put into the stroke. Gathering himself, Bill looked down the sloping curve of back as it fell away from his hips. Bending himself, Bill lurched forward again, jabbing his hips forward and yanking back on her hips which he still had tightly gripped in his hands. He sank all the way into her, his long column of superheated flesh engorging the tight cavern of her cunt. His balls swung forward as his belly bumped against her rump and they bounced solidly against the tightly stretched skin covering the cheeks of her upturned ass. It felt good. Real good. He was in her balls deep.
Millicent was biting hard into the pillow under her face. Bill remembered with satisfaction that she had grunted when his cock's head had hit the bottom of her channel. He didn't want to pull out of her right then, but wanted her to feel his presence, to acknowledge that she knew that he was fucking her like a bitch dog in heat. He was going to make her like it, because he liked it.
Rotating his hips, Bill stretched and expanded her cunt. He heard the slurping sounds of her wetness as he moved his cock around in a tight circle in her box. He felt the resistance and resilience of her tight cunt as he ground into her with all his strength. His actions soon brought small moans from Millicent as she lay with her head buried in the pillow. When he judged the time to be right, Bill pulled his cock slowly from her hole, savoring the sucking pull of her clinging flesh as his fluid-slickened pole slid out of her.
Releasing his tight grip on her hips, Bill moved his hand over the firmness and slope of her back, kneading and stroking the smooth expanse of skin that lay open and available to him. He was pulling his hips back and when only the head of his cock was lodged securely within the grip of her slit, Bill rested for a moment on his haunches. His fingers made small fluttering trails over the satin-like smoothness of her thighs and belly, deliberately missing the open wet slit that cleaved her between the thighs. His hands moved up her body and he cupped her hanging breasts as they hung swaying above the bed. Searching, he found the tiny tips and ran his fingers across the tender surfaces until they were hardened and inflamed. The moans coming from the pillow were increasing as he nipped and pulled at her nipples.
Taking as much of her breasts into each hand as he could, Bill gripped the warming mounds of her breasts tightly and then lunged forward suddenly, his hips jabbing ahead, sending his cock deeply into her. The knobby surfaces of his cock ripped into her and brought a ringing cry from her lips.
Without a pause, Bill began plunging in and out of her cunt, exalting in the feeling of power and subjugation that he had over Millicent Martin. His entire body was alive, throbbing with the pure joy of fucking like he wanted to fuck and not giving a good damn for what the chick wanted. He wanted her to be repulsed, to be angry, to be unfulfilled in her needs. He was doing his thing and she'd have to adjust to his way of fucking and get what pleasure she could out of it.
Her moans increased as he stepped up the tempo of his thrusting hips and he drove himself into her body time and time again. His prick was raging with a cool, slick fire, his balls banged against her upturned backside, humping first one then the other cheek of her wide ass. His fingers tightened their grip on her breasts and he used her hanging tits to give himself added thrusting power as he pushed forward and pulled back. He could feel the hardened points of her nipples as they brushed back and forth across the palms of his hands.
The change was so subtle that he really didn't realize it until after several long moments. Millicent Martin was responding, becoming erotically excited by his wild thrustings and plunging into the depths of her womanhood. Bill, almost without realizing it, became aware that she was beginning to push back against his every stroke. Her moans were not moans of protest as they had started, but now were full moans of building pleasure and cries for fulfillment of pent-up desires and emotions. Bill reveled in his ability and power to bring this headstrong and iron-willed woman to his way of loving. To make her do and enjoy the very things that were the most repugnant to her. He had her now and it was time for the grand finale to sew it up tight.
Stretching carefully as he lunged into her and then pulled free with the steady, powerful piston-like strokes, Bill carefully opened one of the drawers on the nightstand next to the bed and withdrew a tube of lubricating cream. Sweat was rolling down his body and dripping onto Millicent's arched back where the droplets glistened in the soft light of the room. Bill twisted the cap off the tube and pinched the bottom, forcing a worm-like cylinder of the viscous material onto his middle finger.
Smiling inwardly, Bill exulted in the feeling of Millicent's supple body as it writhed beneath him, pushing back as he sent his ramrod-hard cock jabbing into her cunt. He could feel the muscles gripping his cock as it rammed deep in her pussy. Her entire vaginal channel was a mass of twisting, clamping muscles, pulling and tugging at his cock as it pulled free of the confining grasp of her.
He reached between their thrusting bodies and, with a single swipe of his finger, spread the cream down the opened crack of her ass and into the wrinkled star of her slightly open ass-hole. His touch caused her to writhe and push against him harder.
With a smooth, fluid movement, Bill pulled his cock free of her cunt and, rising higher on his knees, guided the bulging head toward the dark brown spot that glistened with the lubricating cream. Millicent protested the loss of the hot meat that had been ramming into her cunt, but made no move to protect her exposed ass-hole.
Holding the stem of his cock in one hand, Bill aimed the head at the rear orifice and lunged forward. The head hit the tight hole and bent as it encountered the tight resistance of her rear entrance. Jabbing his hips forward, the head insinuated itself in the open and lubricated gap.
Gathering himself, Bill dove onto Millicent's back, his hips grinding, pushing his cock into her rear hole.
"Christ! Not there! You're hurting me!" she screamed as her body twisted and attempted to pull away from the impaling piece of meat that was spearing into the tight channel of her ass.
Wrapping his arms about her waist to hold her in position for his attack, Bill relentlessly pushed more of his cock into her. He wanted to shove his cock right into her bowels, to make her feel the power of his manhood as it throbbed and grew within her protesting body.
"Fuck you," he growled, "Relax and enjoy it because this is the way you're going to get it!"
"Ow! You fucking bastard! Take it out, you're killing me! I've never had it that way before and I don't like it. You're going to rip me wide open," she shouted against the pillow as she tried, without success, to pull her body away from him.
Bill hung on tightly to her flailing hips and rammed his staff into her ass-hole until his belly rubbed her upraised butt and his balls banged hard against the taut skin covering the cheeks of her ass. In and out his prick raged as he fucked her ass with ever-increasing ferocity and fury. He could feel the tissues in her virgin channel protestingly expand to make room for his hot prick as it ripped in and out of her.
Her grunts and moans of protest were taking on another tone as he continued to drill his cock into her ass. They had softened into a groaning gasp which marked each new plunge and withdrawal. Bill's hands roamed over her back and down her flanks, coming to rest on the soft skin of her underbelly. Gripping the skin tightly, he pulled her back as he jammed himself forward to take her again. His fingers dug in so deeply that Bill was sure that there would be red marks on her perfectly clear white skin. He wanted that. He wanted her to remember just how she had been taken, the fierceness of it. The brutal joy of the use of her body.
Laboriously, Bill sucked air into his burning lungs as he sought to relieve the strain that his body was making upon his breathing. His entire body was starting to ache with the draining strain of his efforts. Sweat was popping out in small beads on his forehead and upper lip. A droplet formed between his knitted brows, gathered, then plunged down the straight line of his nose where it formed again, gathered, glistened for a moment, and then dropped to a spattering death on Millicent's back. Bill watched its fall with disinterest, observed the writhing figure beneath his plunging body, and threw himself over Millicent's back. With one hand he sought and found the slitted entrance to her cunt. Wiggling his fingers in the wet gap, Bill sought and finally found the distended, blood-filled nub of her clit. He pulled at it hard with his fingers. The slickened tissue slipped through his fingers and snapped back into Millicent's tissued groove. Again his claw-like fingers dove into the slot and gripped the little knob of Millicent's engorged clit. Bill, with practiced deliberation, established a pulling, snapping rhythm in time with the stroking of his prick into her ass. With his other hand, he reached down her body and grasped one of her hanging breasts, letting his fingers play across the nipple, feeling the fullness of the puckered tip. Bill squeezed the swinging globe of her hanging breast and pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His fingers and hands were working in perfect rhythm with his thrusting cock as it jabbed incessantly into her ass.
"Oh, fuck!" Millicent cried into the pillow, her hips ramming back against his impaling prick, her butt swaying back and forth as she attempted to get the maximum sensation from all the erotically aroused areas of her body that Bill was stimulating with greater and greater force. "I'm going to come, goddamn you! Now give it to me hard!" she sputtered, half in rage, half in supercharged passion brought on by the flooding of her system with spasmodic fulfillment.
Bill's bunching muscles were screaming for relief from the terrible strain to which he had submitted them. His teeth were gritted together, locked in the effort to maintain the pace of his thrusting body. Other forces were at work within the powerful frame of his body. His come was boiling out of his balls, running through the labyrinth of ducts and tubes that interlaced his entire pelvic area. His milk gathered for that moment of final release that would send it spurting from the slitted end of his cock and splashing deep in the bowels of Millicent Martin, coating her entrails with a life-giving force that would never fulfill its function.
With a surging cry which started deep in his throat, Bill lunged forward with his entire weight, sweat breaking out in heavy droplets on his face and chest. The freshly gathered come, bubbling at the base of his cock started to move, to make its last quick voyage in darkness, before being spit into the warm channel of her bowels.
Bill felt the entire length of his cock swell with the building pressure and then the spurting release. Again the pressure built and was released as he shot his milky fluids into her rectum. He had never come like this before; it was a total offering an outpouring of lust and power and he was thrilled by the heady feeling it gave him.
As his come poured out of him and into Millicent's body, Bill felt the lust draining from his sweating body. He started to relax, his prick softening and sliding from Millicent's rectum as she squeezed his now flaccid prick with the still spasming muscles of her ass. Bill felt the head plop from the tight, dark ring, and as the fleshy connection was broken, he fell to the bed, pulling Millicent with him, his arms wrapped around her warm and responding flesh. His eyes closed as he floated on the euphoric cloud of afterglow, and he dozed.
CHAPTER FOUR
The morning sun was just peeking over the lip of the canyon, its rays turning the tips of the scrub bushes a bright green. Bill stood in his robe on the edge of his driveway as Millicent Martin backed out in her Mercedes coupe and turned down the winding road to the city below.
He fingered the check for a thousand dollars stuffed in his pocket and complimented himself for a well-played game.
In his other pocket was the slip of paper with the address of Millicent's Beverly Hills friend with whom she was staying while in Los Angeles. His prick still tingled from the memory of his late afternoon conquest and the full night's sleep that he had just completed.
The hastily concocted plan was working out perfectly. He had played a long shot and won. As he watched the small car disappear down the road, Bill reflected on his new opportunity. If he played his cards right, he could get out of the bounty hunter racket and move to San Francisco to help Millicent manage Terri Martin's estate, once Millicent got control from the lawyers after the court hearing which would be within ten days. He'd be on Easy Street. He could keep his ideals and not have to sell out to the Establishment. He'd be in the driver's seat. After yesterday, he knew that he could control Millicent Martin, and she had assured him that she could control Terri, if he could find her. That was now his immediate problem. Find Terri Martin.
Walking back to the house, Bill went over in his mind some of the facts that Millicent had revealed to him about Terri. There was only one unusual trait which he noted; Terri didn't have any steady boyfriends. Millicent had mentioned in passing that Terri never had any romantic interests at all, which struck Bill as rather strange. He had seen her doing her wild dance at the party and knew that she should have dozens of cats beating a path to her door. He wondered why she rejected boys. He would have to find out if he could.
Walking back into the house, Bill headed for the shower, pulling off his robe and tossing it on a chair as he walked through the living room. Looking down at his body, he noted with satisfaction the dark splotches of dried blood that clung to the length of his hanging prick. Millicent Martin had awakened with a sore ass and walked like it when she finally went to her car which was parked in the driveway. He'd done what he had to and had enjoyed it, but he still felt as if it were work and had a faint stirring deep down in his loins, as if he were still unsatisfied.
Tingling jets of hot water spewed from the shower head as he turned the knobs and stepped in under the spray. The warmth splashed against his body, covering him with a lulling heat like a blanket. Bill didn't move, but just stood there, letting the hot water run over his body, relaxing him and giving new life to his fatigued muscles. Finally, after several minutes of letting the hot spray play over his flesh, he started to soap his body, washing off the smells of his and Millicent Martin's violent coupling. That felt good for some reason which Bill could not really understand. He rejected the uneasy feeling that was nibbling at the back of his mind and covered his body with the cleansing lather or soap, savoring the aroma of his freshly scrubbed skin.
After rinsing himself thoroughly, Bill turned off the spraying jet of hot water, pulled open the frosted glass door, and stepped onto the furry rug beside the shower door. When he reached for the big fluffy towel on its accustomed rack, his hand encountered only the cold metal of the bar.
Bill could have sworn that the towel was in its proper place when he had stepped into the shower. Mumbling to himself that he must be losing his marbles, Bill shook the water from his body and started down the hallway to the linen closet to get a fresh towel. Halfway down the hall, Bill stopped short, his mouth dropping open, his eyes wide.
"Man, what you doing running around with all that white meat hanging out? You trying to turn me on?" she said with a laughing tinkle in her voice.
Bill stood frozen for a second and then dashed for the linen closet, wrenched open a door, and hastily pulled a towel around his middle.
"Why the hell don't you let someone know you're here?" he growled at Marge, his colored maid, who came to the house once a week to clean up.
"Maybe I wanted to see if you ofays were any different," she said, laughing and holding up the towel that had recently hung on the towel bar in the bathroom.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Bill fumed at the dusky-skinned girl smiling at him from the end of the hall.
"From the towel rack in the bathroom, naturally," she said, letting her eyes roam up and down his half-nude body.
"If you wanted some action, why didn't you just climb in the shower and integrate?" Bill asked as he appreciated the lushness of her body which was crammed into a skin-tight blue nylon uniform, the buttons down the front nearly bursting with the fullness of her breasts.
Bill had always wondered What it would be like to ball a spade chick and each time he thought about it his mind flashed to a picture of Marge in her always-too-tight uniform. He leaned against the doorjamb of the bedroom and let his eyes frankly appraise her body. She had nice legs which flared into full, swaying hips, a flat stomach, and then her body nearly exploded into two melon-like breasts that bounced provocatively when she walked.
"Ever since I have been working for you, I've wondered what it would be like to have a nice white cat, and maybe I'm just turned on more than usual today," she said frankly with a smile.
Undoing the towel from around his waist, Bill draped it over his shoulder and walked into the bedroom.
"There's no time like the present," he said over his shoulder as he disappeared through the door.
As he walked to the still rumpled bed, Bill felt the familiar animal stirring deep in his loins. That imperceptible rumble in his balls that traveled up into his prick and made it tingle and rise. He was leaning over the bed, straightening the tumbled sheets and fluffing the pillows, when he heard Marge enter the room behind him.
"That bed looks like it had a hard night, you sure you got enough for me, ofay?"
Bill straightened up, turned around, and displayed his manhood, fully erect and pulsating with desire. It was standing away from his body like a pole, the end thick and red, swollen with blood, the vermilion skin tight and shiny with the strength of his hard-on. He stared at Marge, his hips thrust forward slightly to accent the fullness of his cock.
"Will this do for openers?" he asked as he tossed the towel to a chair.
"If you act as good as you look, you'll do just fine," Marge said, her fingers pulling at the top buttons on her uniform. They popped open, one after the other, as she hurriedly undid the restraining fastenings, exposing more and more of her dusky skin.
Unbuttoning her blue uniform to her waist, Marge pulled it quickly off her shoulders and stepped out of it, tossing it to the same chair where Bill's towel lay draped over the back. Her pure white bra, filled to overflowing with the weight of her tits, contrasted perfectly with her dark skin. Reaching behind her with practiced fingers, Marge unhooked the bra and shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor at her feet.
Bill's eyes riveted themselves on the strong, swaying breasts that bobbed from the confines of the restricting bra. They were magnificent. Marge's big, nearly black nipples were already starting to poke out. As Bill watched in fascination, she cupped the large globes in her hands and lifted them, stroking the flesh with her fingers, letting her thumb and forefinger tweak the rising nipples so they became bloated and stood up hard and firm, filled with blood.
Marge smiled when she saw the expression on Bill's face and dropped her hands, letting them slide down her body, over her flat, muscled stomach. She hooked her thumbs in the waistbands of her half-slip and panties and pushed them down, tossing her lower body from side to side in order to work the thin material over her flaring butt and hips. Finally freed, the underclothes dropped in a pile around her feet. She stepped out of the soft mound of white and kicked the flimsy material to the side. She stood there for a moment, completely naked, letting Bill explore her body with his eyes, as he savored its richness and lush contours. Moving forward, she stopped just inches away from Bill so that her soft belly barely touched the flaming end of his cock.
"You ever have a black girl before?" she asked as she placed her hands on his shoulders, tilting her head back and cocking it to one side.
"You're the first and only," Bill replied, his hands gripping her waist to feel the resilient skin, warm and soft under his fingers.
"Well, you're the first white man so make it nice. Make the first one something to remember," she said, arching her back and pushing her pelvis closer to him so it rubbed hard against the rigid pole of flesh that jammed into her soft belly.
The word black flashed through Bill's mind for a split second, but he rejected it as deep-seated prejudice and only thought of Marge as a desirous woman, whose body was ready and eager for erotic stimulation and sexual fulfillment.
Stepping forward, Bill crushed his body against hers, his lips seeking and then finding hers. His arms circled her waist and he pulled her tight against him, feeling the tingling warmth of her flesh as it melded with his. He felt the scratch of her pubic hair as her hips ground against his, seeking added stimulation. Her arms entwined themselves around his neck, and her full, rich breasts pressed tightly against his chest, the thick, hard nipples poking little pins of fire into his skin where they touched.
Bill heard the sharp intake of air through her nostrils as she breathed deeply and then felt her lips open under his as she breathed out in a great, groaning sigh. Relaxing, Bill let his wet tongue slip past her open lips and into her mouth, exploring the wet softness and liquid heat that he found with his tongue's tip. Working his tongue in and out of her mouth, Bill tasted the sweetness and felt the hot tip of her tongue as it dueled back at his, probing and circling.
Breathing hard, Bill released his tight grip on her waist and let his hands wander up and down her body, seeking, finding, and exploring all the indentations and bulges that his fingers could reach. He pressed and kneaded the fleshy cheeks of her full rump, enjoying the resilience of her skin, the power and control of her muscles as she pulled them tight under his grasp. He sought her breasts, but could only feel the sides of those magnificent orbs from between their tightly pressed bodies. He wanted to feel more of her, but they were welded together too tightly, fused together in a torrid embrace.
Reluctantly, he pulled his head back, breaking their kiss. As his eyes flicked open for a moment, he saw Marge's bright pink tongue slither back into her mouth where he had so recently been thrusting his own tongue in an imitation of the coital act. Watching, he saw her eyes open, a frown on her face. Her deep brown eyes burned with lust, with an animal craving that must have satisfaction, with a tension that must be relieved.
"For Christ's sake, get on the fucking bed," he blurted, "I want to feel you all over and I can't do it this way."
They stumbled the few steps between them and the waiting bed and fell across it together, hands grabbing, muscles knotting, and mouths seeking. Their lips met, opened; their tongues met and dueled again in a wet battlefield.
Bill rolled to his side and reached for Marge's large tits. His fingers felt the swelling flesh and his hand closed around one mammoth globe, pressing it, kneading it, and feeling the hard warmth of the distended nipple against his palm. As he rubbed it, the life seemed to flow through that one point and stir his whole body, sending the blood racing to his pelvis and into his already clotted cock, swelling it even more. It jerked and throbbed and he knew that he had to get into her before he exploded and came right there as they wrestled together on the bed.
Wrenching his mouth and tongue away from the death grip of their lips, Bill spun around so that he could take Marge's nipple in his mouth. He drew it in with a desperate sense of need. Feeling the olive-like knob in his mouth, Bill teased it with his tongue, lashing it back and forth across the hot bit of flesh that seemed to grow and expand in his mouth, filling it with delightful sensations, but increasing the need in his groin.
As his tongue laved at the nipple, Bill felt Marge squirm and twist in his loose grip. Her hands were playing across his shoulders and back, feeling and pulling at the flesh that was knotted tight with his desire and effort. Her fingers stroked his flanks and hips and then one of them insinuated itself between their bodies as she sought the center of his pleasure, the turgid manhood that was brushing back and forth across her belly. Her hand brushed the head, lifting it so that her fingers could wrap themselves around the white column of jerking flesh. She pulled at the tight skin and Bill felt the sure surges of desire throb along the pillar of his cock as Marge moved her hand up and down along its length. Her forefinger brushed back and forth across the underside of the swollen head to bring Bill even more excruciating pleasure. Marge was breathing and pulling at his flesh as she rolled under him.
Releasing his hand's grip on her puffy mound, Bill let his hand slide down her body until it brushed the tightly curled hair that covered her pussy. It felt slick to the touch. His middle finger pushed through the tight mass of pubic hair and into the groove of her sex. Her pussy lips parted easily before his probing finger and he felt another surge of passion as the tip of his finger encountered the wetness of her flowing juices. They were thick and slick to the touch. He felt along the entire length of her slot, seeking the knob of flesh that would be her clit, her epicenter of desire. Brushing over a hard knob, Bill found what he was seeking and cupped her pussy in the palm of his hand, rotating it so that it rubbed gently over the raised nub of sensitive tissue.
"Oh, yes! That's it. It feels so good. Don't stop. Make it last. Make it good for me," she groaned as Bill continued to press his hand into her sex.
As he rubbed, his finger sought her opening and found it open, emitting her juices to make his entry easy. He pushed his finger deep into her and she groaned again, louder. She increased her masturbation of his prick and thrust herself against him hard.
Bill rolled with her thrashing body, never releasing his hand's grip on her pussy or his mouth's grip on her nipple. The blood was pounding against his temples as his desire mounted. His own juices were running wildly deep in his body and he felt the muscles of his belly knot and expand with the need to impale his staff in Marge's warm, wet pussy.
Marge had her mouth buried against his shoulder and was mumbling incoherently as her body moved with a will of its own against his. Bill tried to understand the jumble of words and mutterings that Marge was blubbering against the skin of his shoulder, but it took him several moments before he was able to make any sense out of it. All the while, her hands were pulling at his cock, more and more desperately. She had his balls cupped in one hand while the other rubbed and twisted the skin of his cock.
"In! Put it in! I want it in me!" she finally cried with enough clarity for Bill to comprehend what she had been trying so desperately to tell him as she thrashed across the sheets.
Pushing and pulling, Bill was finally able to get Marge lying in the middle of the bed. Her long, tapered legs were thrown wide apart in wild abandon and her hips were undulating up and down in anticipation of the joining that was soon to come. Her large, full breasts were swollen, the nipples distended and puckered to their fullest. She was like a bitch in heat and Bill wondered about his own capabilities in satisfying such a wanton creature.
Throwing his body on top of hers, his lips sought hers and they joined, mouths wide open, tongues seeking, finding, and stimulating. His hands worked at both her breasts, and his pelvis thrust against her lower belly, trying to find the entrance to her pussy.
He felt Marge's wedge between their bodies and grip his cock. She pushed it until the head was at the entrance to her cunt. Her legs lifted, bending at the knees. Bill felt the head of his cock slide down her groove and then slip into her waiting hole. She was wide open and waiting.
Gathering himself, Bill lunged forward hard.
A wet, tingling pleasure tripped up his back as his cock sank into her full length. He filled her with his hot prick and felt the wetness of her channel as he sank it into her until his pubic hair ground into hers. His entire prick was pulsating with the telltale throbs of pre-orgasm. It was too soon so he rested with his length buried in her cunt. Bill let his entire body relax, fighting for control, forcing himself to think about anything else but the sensations that were pulsating hotly throughout his entire body in wave after wave of lulling heat.
Pictures flashed before his eyes of tall elephant grass, of dark-skinned little men in fatigue green uniforms pushing through the grass, holding their light M16 rifles at the ready, their eyes darting from side to side. Bill tensed, waiting for the blast he knew would come. The orange flame erupted in his brain, like a brilliant ball of light, the shock wave hit him before the sound and he shook himself free of the vision before his eyes as the ground and the tall grass came up to meet him. He could hear the screams of the wounded, but they soon blended in the cries of passion that Marge was letting slip past her open lips and she writhed beneath him on the bed.
Opening his eyes, Bill felt secure again, safe in his own home, high in the hills of Hollywood, and not in the boondocks of Vietnam. Life surged back through his body, pressed closely against a passionate woman. Now he was over it, back to reality, and ready to fuck this woman until he was exhausted, until he lay spent, all the living juices in his body deposited in Marge's sucking cunt.
Lifting himself from the moving flesh beneath him, Bill rested most of his weight on his elbows, gathered his knees under him, and pulled his cock from the grasping channel of her cunt in a long, slow motion. With slow deliberateness, he pulled out his entire length until just the head was buried in the soft folds of flesh that gripped and pulled at his prick. Pausing for only a second, Bill flexed his hips and reinserted himself in Marge's cunt. A low soft moan greeted his forward thrust.
Never breaking his steady, slow rhythm, Bill pushed in and out of Marge's cunt. Once, he looked down between their joined bodies and thrilled at the sight of his pink column of flesh jabbing itself into the rich black of her cunt hair. The stark contrast in their skins only stimulated him more and he increased the tempo of his thrusting prick, driving it harder and deeper into her body.
"Oh, God, yes!" she cried in his ear. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder I'm coming!"
His own climax was close and Bill picked up the stroke until he was wildly plunging into her, burying himself in her with such force that their pubic bones crunched together with a nearly audible sound. Hot sweat bathed both their bodies as they rubbed together in an unrestrained quest for the ultimate release.
After a particularly hard stroke, Bill heard Marge's low, guttural moan and felt her legs as they wrapped themselves around his waist and her hips rose to meet his with a powerful surge that was equal to his own wild plunge.
A pure animal sound broke from Marge's lips and rocketed around the room, borne on the mutual heat of their combined passion. Bill could feel the hot juices running deep in his body as he plunged in and out of Marge with ever-increasing force and power. His life's fluids were boiling as they passed through the tubes and ducts of his pelvic system and raced toward the long column of white flesh that was driving like a piston in the cylinder of Marge's cunt.
Locking his elbows behind her raised knees, Bill pushed forward, bending her legs back until her knees were touching her shoulders. Marge wrapped her legs around his neck and crossed her ankles, locking her grip on his neck.
Bill felt his prick plunging into her even deeper as the new position shortened her channel. Her cunt muscles squeezed at his cock as it drew from her and then relaxed as the full length of his flesh pole ripped deeply into her body once more. Her cunt was milking his prick with practiced skill and he mounted more quickly to his crest. Marge's wild cries had shortened and sharpened until they were little more than savage grunts of pleasure. Bill knew that she was in the throes of a wild multiple orgasm which would be far beyond the finish point of his own spending. A sort of hot pride welled up in his gut as he realized that he had brought her off, had blown her nuts for her so that she was little more than a quivering mass of feeling, responding flesh with the sum total of all sensation centered in her wildly contracting cunt.
Exalting in his triumph, Bill plunged his prick into her with still greater force and felt his own orgasm approaching with ever-increasing speed. The head of his prick was raw and supersensitive, bloated with blood, and swelling with the first pulsation of shooting his load. It was coming and he was ready. It was coming and he was waiting, anxious for the moment when he come would spew out in great, thick gobs and bathe Marge's womb with life-giving essence.
"Oh, fuck, I'm coming!" The words bounced off the walls of the room and back into Bill's ears. He didn't recognize his own voice and by the time the fact registered in his befuddled brain, the juices were racing down the length of his prick and were spewing with steady spurts deep inside Marge's body. His own cry was joined by her own as she became aware of what was happening.
They ground their hips together as Bill poured his cream into her. Their closely pressed, sweat-soaked bodies made strange farting sounds as air was captured then forced out past tightly packed flesh. Bill was hardly aware of the sound as he concentrated on emptying himself, of draining every last bit of his fluid deep into Marge that was humanly possible. The little ducts and tubes inside his prick felt warm and good as they pumped the fluid along the length of his prick and sent it spurting out into the dark confines of Marge's cunt.
Gradually, the spasms lessened and then stopped altogether. It wasn't until Bill felt his prick start to shrink and recede from the tight clutch of her pussy's channel that Bill let Marge's legs down and released his nearly death-lock grip on the cheeks of her ass.
They collapsed like two wet dolls at each other's side, but Bill made sure that his now shriveled cock remained embedded as deeply as humanly possible in Marge's cunt. He could feel her pussy muscles still undulating with the afterglow of climax, milking the flesh pole that had given her the ultimate in pleasure and passion.
With all the tension pumped from his body, Bill eased his head on the pillow, only vaguely aware of the warm wetness that surrounded his flaccid member in the moving sheath of Marge's cunt. His mind was drifting off into a dreamless sleep, a sleep of completion and exhaustion. Just before he went over the threshold of sleep, he registered the fact that he would have to be in Beverly Hills this evening with some idea of what he was going to tell Millicent Martin he wanted for a fee for finding her runaway niece, but that was a whole day away, and he was tired now and wanted to get some needed sleep.
As he closed his eyes for the last time, Bill's arm snaked out and circled the brown figure lying next to him on the bed. Marge sighed at his touch and snuggled closer, pulling the blankets up over them and then nestled her head against Bill's shoulder with another contented sigh.
Bill's hand stroked the tan flank with a lethargic sweep and then settled on the full mound of Marge's full, ripe breast. He squeezed the flesh and enjoyed the softness oozing between his fingers. He tweaked the nipple, and Marge stirred, pushed more of her tit into the palm of his hand, then settled down against his shoulder, her cunt muscles still squeezing gently on the cock buried in her body. Bill drifted into sleep with these erotic sensations flitting over his body. He felt good and he slept soundly.
CHAPTER FIVE
The hot afternoon sun warmed Bill's back as he climbed from his white VW after parking it next to a cafe at the beginning of the Sunset Strip. The slanting rays of the sun cast sharp shadows along the street and against the building facing the famed boulevard. He'd gotten lucky with Millicent Martin yesterday, luckier this morning with Marge, and his luck was still holding when he returned to Acid George's to see if anyone at the crash pad knew Terri Martin.
One of the chicks smoking a joint at Acid
George's had told him that she had met Terri Martin a few times, but didn't know where she lived. Then she told him that every time she had met her, she had been in the little occult book shop on the east end of the Strip. Jackpot!
All he had to do was wait around the book shop and move in when the chick showed up. If his luck was still holding, and he had an uncanny feeling that it was, he'd score today. He'd had lucky vibrations all day long and they were still with him.
The book shop was located in one of those old relics that still dot Hollywood. In its heyday, it had probably been a fashionable apartment court. As he walked up the step, Bill recalled that a far more famous landmark, The Garden of Allah, had been located almost directly across the street, but had given way to the demands of progress and was now the site of a big modern bank and art gallery.
Shaking his head, Bill pushed through the screen door and went into the shop. The smell hit him like a hammer. Incense candles, joss sticks, and other aromatic substances glowed and gave off their aroma from every corner of the room. Trying not to gag, Bill looked around, took a note of the several longhairs browsing through the store, and went to one of the bookcases standing against the walls.
While he looked, the title of one book suddenly struck his eye and registered in his brain. It was on the voodoo arts, and a vivid picture of Marge flashed through his mind and held his attention. She was really a flipped-out chick.
He had only left her about an hour or two ago, so his memory was still fresh and clear. He had awakened very slowly after a day-long sleep. He had been lying on his back, but his prick had felt like it was still wedged tightly in Marge's throbbing, wet pussy. As the fog cleared from his mental processes, he realized that Marge was giving him head; his prick was in her mouth and she was sucking gently on the flaccid meat.
"This is for making it good, man. For making it real good," she had said as she knelt at his side, her head moving slowly up and down, her tongue twirling around the soft head of his cock.
Bill had started to swell with slow, even jerks in her mouth. She had murmured with each throb that inflated his cock, making it longer and bigger. Bill had propped his head on the pillow, his hands behind his head, his fingers interlaced. He had stared in a lazy, half-awake fascination at the slowly moving head. Marge's wide lips were puckered tightly around the base of his cock and he had felt her tongue along its entire length. That had not lasted very long because the hardening of his cock had forced her lips to retreat until she could take little more than half without gagging.
When he was fully erect, Marge had pulled her lips away from the hard column of white flesh and looked at Bill with her eyes questioning. "You got enough left to pop again this way?" she had asked.
She had shaken her head after Bill had nodded in the affirmative and then her head had dropped back to the ramrod that she held upright in one black hand. She cupped his balls with her other hand, shaking her head. She had apparently made up her mind to satisfy her curiosity about a white man's prick because she spent about ten minutes looking at it closely and examining it from every angle. From time to time, during the course of her investigation, Marge would flick out her tongue to touch the tip to an area she thought might be more sensitive than others. When she had laved her wet tongue across the underside of his cock just back of the glans. Bill's cock had jerked violently. That was one spot that had turned him on every time.
Marge had only looked up for a split second and then her tongue had flicked out again, its tip hitting the same spot with the same reaction. She had pressed the red and swollen head of his prick to her lips and let it slide slowly into her mouth, allowing her white teeth to barely scrape the tender, inflamed skin. Allowing only the glans to pass into her warm, damp chamber, Marge had bitten down softly with her teeth. Bill's prick had throbbed strongly a third time. Satisfied she had found the most sensitive spot, Marge had started her head bobbing up and down, making sure her tongue pressed hard against the spot each time she pulled her lips up the shaft of his meat.
It had been slow and easy, contrasting sharply with the almost animalistic frenzy with which they had made love earlier in the day. Bill had figured that it was something Marge had wanted to do without his reciprocating in any way, so he had lain back on the pillow and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. But he had been pleasantly surprised, because Marge had given him something which he had never had before a hum job. Anyway, that's what she had called it after he had asked her what in the hell she had done to him that had nearly blown his mind.
She had given it to him just as he was approaching his climax. When Bill had started to thrust his hips upwards, forcing his prick deep into her mouth, Marge had started to hum deep in her throat. The resulting vibrations had been transferred from her throat to the roof of her mouth and tongue and had created a wet, tingling sensation along the entire length of his dick, but when she applied this technique to that one very tender and sensitive spot just behind the glans of his prick, Bill had exploded in a gigantic orgasm that even he had not thought he was capable of at that juncture. A hum job. What a mind blower, Bill thought as he reflected in front of the bookcase, his eyes looking at, but not really seeing, the book on voodoo on the shelf in front of him.
"Excuse me, please," a soft voice said next to his ear and he bolted upright in surprise, the fleeting images of Marge and her talents whisked away in a flash as he was brought back to reality.
Instinctively moving to the side. Bill turned his head toward the sound that had brought him back from his reverie. He was looking straight into the frankly staring eyes of Terri Martin. His luck was still good.
"Excuse me. My mind was a thousand miles away," he opened, hoping to get a little friendly and sympathetic response.
"That's okay, I figured you were tripping out a little and I didn't want to ass your trip, so I waited as long as I could," she said with a little smile.
Apparently she hadn't recognized him yet, or had already forgotten about the party and the people at Acid George's pad and the wildly erotic dance she had performed. He'd have to play it by ear and see if it were wiser to remain silent about the party, or to lay it on her straight. As Bill mulled over the different alternatives in his mind, Terri Martin had leaned over and picked up a book on astrology from one of the lower shelves.
Still thinking about the half-nude dance, Bill looked at her breasts as she leaned over. They were swinging free of any restriction beneath the loosely knit sweater. Her bell-bottom blue jeans fitted her rounded hips perfectly, stretched so tight that it was obvious that she wasn't wearing any panties. Flat-nosed boots stuck out from under the cuffs of her jeans.
Outa sight, Bill said to himself. He looked away quickly as Terri Martin stood up and started thumbing through the book she had selected. He'd have to come up with some angle to find out where she lived make a date would be the easiest.
"What sign are you?" he asked casually, nodding his head at the book Terri Martin held in her hands.
"Pisces.'-'
"Hey, that's far out. I'm a Cancer. We're a perfect match," Bill said with a smile, hoping that she would pick up on the conversation and carry part of the load so that he wouldn't look like he was pushing it.
"Well, it's not all that simple, but it's a good start," she said. "There are a lot of other factors that enter into it, and having compatible signs is one of the essentials, but doesn't mean that we're a perfect match."
Bill looked at her. His eyes locked with hers and held them. "I can dig it."
"I really don't know that much about it, that's why I'm looking at this book," she said and turned away.
Shit, Bill thought, he didn't want the conversation to end just like that. He'd have to keep it going. "How about going across the street and having some coffee in the open-air restaurant after we're finished here?"
Terri Martin turned back to him, and Bill breathed a little easier. "Okay," she said simply.
Bill looked around quickly, trying to find something to buy so that he would have a reason for leaving. He spotted the decks of Tarot cards piled in a showcase. He'd wanted a deck anyway, so now was as good a time as any to get them. Maybe she was interested in that too.
He left her standing in front of the bookcase and walked to the glass-covered display case. After a cursory examination, he made his selection, added a Tarot book to his purchases, and paid the bearded clerk who looked like he was stoned.
Walking back to the bookcase, Bill thumbed through the newly purchased book so that Terri Martin could see it.
"Do you read the cards?" she asked as Bill walked up beside her.
"No, but I'm going to try and learn. I'm almost convinced that there's something to them, but I want to find out for myself," he said.
"Yeah, they're weird," Terri replied with a little more interest.
"You ready to go get that cup of coffee?" he asked, hoping to use her interest in the Tarot as a springboard to an extended conversation and a date.
"Oh, yeah ... well, like look, man, I would really dig the coffee and going into the Tarot thing with you, but I've really got to split. I forgot that I've got to be somewhere else in a little while and can't take the time right now. I hope it's cool with you because I really did want to rap with you over coffee," she said in rush of words.
"Yeah, it's cool," Bill said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. "Maybe I'll see you again at Acid George's. We could rap then," he added, playing his last card, a real long shot.
"Oh yeah! That's where it was. I thought I remembered you from someplace, but I just couldn't pin it down. You're the cat who held my sweater, then later split with the stoned chick. Man, I was really jamming that night."
"You going to be there tonight?" Bill asked casually, covering the hope that he felt.
"No, but I'll probably be there tomorrow night," she told him as she leaned over to replace the astrology book on the shelf.
"That's cool. I'll see you then," Bill said, tucking the book under his arm and turning toward the door. "Peace."
"Yeah, peace, man."
Down-shifting his bug from fourth to third gear, Bill started the long, slow climb up Beverly Glen to keep his appointment with Millicent Martin. He had good news for her and felt secure that she would keep her end of the bargain. All that bread would let him do his own thing without making any compromises with the Establishment.
After making the turn at the small park a couple of blocks above Sunset, Bill started looking for the small side street that would take him to where Millicent was staying. It was about halfway up the canyon, and he turned onto the narrow, winding street, watching the curbs for numbers. The little engine of his bug whined steadily as he climbed higher into the hills past homes that displayed a wide variety of architectural styles.
Spotting the number he was looking for, Bill turned the little car into the short driveway and pulled to a stop in front of the California-style ranch-house. New money, he thought as he climbed from the front seat of the VW and walked across the wide covered porch to the impressive double-doored entrance. He pressed the black button set in the brass plate at the side of the doorway.
"Yes?" The voice came from above her head and, looking up, he saw the metal grill of the intercom speaker.
"Bill Sherman," he said, stepping back.
"Oh, yes. Just a moment, please," the metallic voice said and then clicked off.
It was more than a moment, in fact, it was several before Bill heard the tumblers click in the lock on the door and it swung open.
"Won't you come in?" she said. "Millicent is out by the pool."
Stepping through the door, Bill turned to look at the tall, thin blonde as she closed the door. She was wearing a short, terry cloth robe that stopped just below her narrow hips. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and was slightly tangled. Her legs were thin, but nicely shaped, which gave her a tall, elegant look despite the fact that her face was a blotchy pink. Bill wondered about that, but as he turned it over in his mind, the door clicked shut and the woman turned to him, pulling her robe a little tighter around her body.
"I'm Gloria Davis," she said, looking Bill directly in the eye. "A friend of Millicent's."
"How do you do?" Bill said in his best over-thirty manner as he pulled at the end of his paisley scarf. Something flickered across her pale blue eyes and she turned on the ball of her bare foot and strode away.
"If you'll follow me, Millicent's by the pool."
Matching her stride for stride, Bill marched through the house and through a set of sliding glass doors onto a wide veranda surrounded by flickering flames from black Tiki torches. The reflections of the dancing flames shimmered on the clear blue water of the large oval pool.
"Mr. Sherman's here, Millicent," Gloria Davis said in the direction of two large padded mats lying next to the edge of the pool.
Millicent Martin rolled over on her side and looked up. She glanced at Gloria for a split second and then her head turned to Bill. She was clad in a skimpy bikini which barely covered the full ripeness of her lush body. In the faint light of the dying day and by the flaming torches, Bill could see that the bikini was tied very loosely, as if it had been put on in a hurry. As he moved closer, Bill could see that Millicent also had pink blotches around her lips and cheeks. Jesus Christ, he thought, she swings both ways. Far out!
"Good to see you, Bill, we didn't think you would be this early. We were about to go for a swim before dinner. Care to join us?"
"Millicent," Gloria said in a hushed voice, but broke off before she said anymore.
"Bill and I don't have any secrets from one another, do we, Bill?" she asked.
"None at all," he answered, waiting to see what the next move would be.
"But, tonight, Millicent, after all," Gloria protested in a low voice.
"You mustn't be possessive, Gloria," Millicent said sharply, and the blonde woman hung her head in resignation. "Well, Bill, how 'bout that swim? Are you game?"
"Sure, but what do I wear, or is this a skinny-dippin' party?" he asked frankly.
"Suit yourself, but Gloria and I like to have as much freedom as possible," she said significantly.
"That's cool with me," he remarked, "but aren't you forgetting why I'm here?"
"So soon! That's very quick, but then you are an extremely fast worker, aren't you?" she said with a slightly malicious smile on her face.
Bill was tired of playing games with Millicent so he laid it right on the line. "I saw Terri this afternoon. I'll probably see her again tomorrow night and can make delivery either then or the next morning. When can you have twenty-five thousand dollars ready?"
"Twenty-five thousand dollars!" she sputtered as she sat bolt upright on the padded mat.
"That's the deal," he answered flatly.
"But I thought that we would sort of be partners. If I can get control of the estate when we have the hearing, there will be lots of work to do, investments to make, and things like that. I thought that was what you were looking for, what you wanted."
"That might be what you thought, but that's not what I want. I'm going to do my own thing and I don't want to be tied down to an office or anything else. So it's cash on the barrelhead, or I don't play, and I don't deliver," he declared in a cold, hard voice.
"I won't have that kind of money until after the hearing," she admitted.
"I can wait. Is it a deal?"
"You're holding the high hand," she agreed.
"Good. Am I still invited for a swim?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Millicent, I thought this was just a business meeting," Gloria protested once more.
"Relax, this will be good for you. Besides, you know how I get when you insist on arguing with me, Gloria," Millicent said with a harsh edge in her voice. It softened only slightly when she turned her head to Bill. "In case you already haven't guessed it, Gloria here doesn't think much of males."
"The thought had crossed my mind," Bill told her, looking in Gloria's direction.
"Please, Millicent, must you go into all of that?" Gloria interjected.
"Oh, shut up, for Christ's sake. You literally sold that body of yours to fat old Charlie, just so you could divorce him and have a big fat alimony check every month, this house, a imagine car, and all the women you could find," Millicent hissed, "so looking at a man's prick isn't anything new to you. Besides, I'll take good care of you later. As a mater of fact, we might even have Bill here join in the fun, just for variety's sake, and he's the only man who has really been able to stimulate me. He's a mean bastard, though, aren't you, Bill?" she added as she got to her feet.
Holy Christ, Bill thought, what a bunch of fucking kooks! Looking around, he spotted a nearby lawn chair and walked to it, pulling off his scarf and unbuttoning his blue body shirt. As he shrugged out of the shirt and draped it across the back of the chair, he saw that Gloria Davis was standing close to Millicent with her back to him, taking earnestly. Millicent was working at the strings that held her skimpy bikini bra in place over her ripe breasts and shaking her head at whatever Gloria was saying.
Sitting on the chair, Bill unzipped his flat-nosed boots and pulled them from his feet. He took off his socks and stuffed them in the neatly lined-up boots in front of the chair. Standing up, he unbuckled his wide leather belt with the hand-worked brass buckle and pulled the zipper on his bell-bottomed pants.
Gloria had apparently lost the argument and whirled around on the ball of her foot, but she stopped short when she saw Bill pulling down his tightly fitted pants and stepping out of them. She stood frozen, with her back to him, and watched as Millicent tossed aside the brief halter and undid the bows at her hips, letting the bottom part of her bikini fall to the padded mat. She stood there looking straight at Gloria, her body swaying slightly. Bill felt the stirrings start in low in his groin as he watched the scene unfold before him. As he pulled down his jockey shorts and tossed them on the chair, Gloria stuffed her hands in the pockets of her robe and shook her head, sending her blonde hair flying from side to side. Millicent laughed, turned, and walked toward the pool's edge.
Giving his prick a shake, Bill walked past Gloria, who turned her face away as he passed, and went toward Millicent. As he approached her turned back, she spun around, a little smile flickering on her face.
"Not again. I'm still sore back there from last night, but Gloria's got a virgin ass-hole and since you like that sort of thing, why don't you give her a try? Use your caveman routine and you shouldn't have any trouble," she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"I thought she didn't dig men," Bill replied flatly.
"She doesn't, but that doesn't mean that you couldn't take her if you wanted her. Besides, I'd like to see her get royally fucked. How 'bout it? You game?" she asked.
There it was again; Millicent Martin trying to run the whole show, trying to have everything her way without a thought to what the feelings of anyone else were. Bill felt the resentment turn his stomach, giving him a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd shown her last night that he wouldn't go along with that shit, so he'd have to show her again that he wasn't going to be pushed around. If he didn't assert his dominance, then the whole deal was in trouble, and he was too close to having everything he wanted to risk that. A twinge of guilt rippled through his brain cells as he realized that it was going to be something similar if not just the same as it had been with Millicent Martin. In this case, he was using Terri Martin to get what he wanted without thinking about her feelings at all. He rejected the thought.
"Fuck it," he said in a low voice, "I'm not a rapist." He gave her a hard, steel-eyed look to back up his words.
"Really! I'd never have guessed," Millicent remarked with a little bitterness. "At least get her in the water."
"If I do, you had better finish off what you started before I interrupted. I can always get into the act later," Bill said with a tone of authority that made his words a command and not a suggestion.
"In front of you?" her face fell as she spoke. "In front of me," he hissed.
"All right, if that's the way you want it," she relented, bowing her head as she spoke.
"That's the way, the only way I'm playing the game," he said as he gave her a shove, toppling her into the pool.
Millicent came up spurting and laughing all at the same time. Bill watched her as she treaded water for a moment and then lay on her back, spreading her full thighs invitingly. The pool's underwater light was turned on so there was plenty of light to see her and to appreciate the succulent richness of her figure. Bill had half a mind to chuck Gloria and dive in after Millicent, but he controlled the impulse and turned his back on her as she floated in the center of the pool.
When he turned, he saw Gloria standing a few feet away, her eyes wide in wonder. Apparently Millicent dominated her and those around her so much that this was the first time that she had ever seen someone actually do something that Millicent opposed.
"You're next," Bill said, taking a step toward her.
"No! I don't want to," she protested in a whining voice.
As Bill moved forward, she spun around and attempted to run. He had her in two steps, grabbing the back of the terry cloth robe and yanking her to a halt. The violence of his grip had yanked the robe nearly half off and exposed both Gloria's breasts. They were small but well shaped and held high on her rib cage. Every one of her ribs showed under her skin, but her belly was as flat and smooth as a river stone.
As Bill picked her up in his strong arms and carried her toward the side of the pool, she tried desperately to pull the sides of the robe together to cover her nakedness. Bill chuckled to himself. He must have caught them with the meat in their mouths when he had rung the doorbell, and Gloria must have just pulled on her robe, not taking the time to put on anything else, What a couple of kooks, he mused as he paused at the edge of the pool, the struggling girl still held tightly in his arms. He was trying to decide whether to throw her in with her robe on, or take it off her and then toss her in. He decided on the latter course. No use in getting her robe wet.
Setting her down, Bill gripped the sides of her robe and started to pull it down her arms.
"No! Please don't do that. I don't want you to see me," she pleaded, bending over to try and protect herself and to cover as much of her body as possible.
Spinning her around, Bill yanked her arms back and pulled hard at the clinging robe. It peeled off her arms reluctantly, and Bill wadded it up in a ball and tossed it on the nearby mats, Gloria was still crouched over, her arms wrapped tightly around her naked body. Bill put his foot in the middle of her narrow butt and pushed, sending her headfirst into the clear, brightly lit water. She landed with a foot-kicking splat a few feet away from where Millicent was floating in the water, watching the entire episode. Gloria came up spitting water and trying to get her long blonde hair out of her eyes. She dipped her head into the water and then tossed her head back, sending a wide arc of water and hair back over her shoulders.
A wild exuberance overtook Bill as he watched the two nude figures standing up to their necks in the water. His mind recorded the fact that Gloria must be a natural blonde since he couldn't see any dark pubic hair covering her lower belly.
"Come on in, Tarzan," Millicent called from the middle of the pool as she sent a shower of water toward him.
Ducking his head, Bill dived, hitting the water flat so that he wouldn't go too deep and scrape himself on the bottom of the pool. He broke the surface between the two women.
Gloria was starting to swim toward the side of the pool with long, clean strokes. Bill grabbed Millicent and pushed her after the swimming girl. "Go on. Do your thing," he growled.
Millicent lunged after the swimming Gloria and managed to catch an ankle just as the girl was trying to pull herself onto the edge of the pool. They struggled for a moment, but Millicent proved to be the stronger, and she pulled the girl back into the water. Bill was standing with the water up to his chest so he could see what was happening under the water as well as what was happening on top of the water. From where Bill stood, the underwater scene was much more interesting.
Millicent had pinned Gloria against the side of the pool and had thrust her full thighs between the blonde girl's two thin ones. The top portion of her thigh was rubbing back and forth across Gloria's pubic area, while Millicent gripped Gloria's two small, well-shaped tits in each hand, squeezing and kneading the flesh, her fingers digging into the white skin.
"No! Please don't. Not while he's here watching. I don't want it that way," Gloria protested as she tossed her head violently from side to side, sending her long wet hair flying back and forth, water spraying from it in all directions.
Millicent silenced the blonde's protest by crushing her lips to Gloria's. Bill saw the girl's head pull back as she attempted to break away, but Millicent had her pinned so she couldn't move. Gloria's struggles continued for a moment, then started to lessen, and after what seemed to Bill to be about a minute they ceased altogether. Under the water, her hips started a slow, almost motionless gyration forward and back, and she rubbed her crotch tightly against Millicent's leg. Gloria's arm encircled Millicent's shoulders, pulling her closer.
Watching the two girls had stimulated Bill more than he thought possible. He looked down at his own body, covered by the clear water, and saw that his cock was standing out stiff and strong, a fleshy, pink torpedo. He bounded on the balls of his feet, letting the warm water caress his skin and relax his muscles. In moments he felt his entire body relaxing, except for his prick which still maintained its one-eyed vigil of the underwater scene.
When he turned his attention back to the girls, Bill saw Millicent lifting Gloria out of the pool so that her butt just rested on the edge. She pushed the blonde onto her back and threw a long, slim leg over each shoulder. As Millicent spread Gloria's legs, Bill finally realized that Gloria's crotch was shaved as bare as a billiard ball. The smooth skin of her pubis sparkled as the light from the flaming torches flickered over the droplets of water that ran down her body and into the groove of her crotch. Kinky, Bill thought, real kinky.
Bill noticed that the two girls had moved down the length of the pool slightly so that when Millicent stood upright in the water her mouth was on the same level with Gloria's crotch. Moving even with the pair, Bill noted that the water hit him just below the chest. He moved forward to get a better look at the action at the side of the pool.
Millicent was nibbling and gently biting her way up one of Gloria's thighs, her lips and teeth leaving little red marks on the smooth white skin. Millicent had a cheek of Gloria's butt in each hand and was lifting her off the tile in order to better reach those places her mouth was attempting to stimulate. As her mouth came closer to the center of Gloria's womanhood, Millicent slid her thumbs up the crack of Gloria's ass until she had them placed evenly on either side of her pussy lips.
With a twisting of her wrists, she parted the tightly sealed lips and opened Gloria's cunt for the attack by her mouth, teeth, and tongue. Opening her lips wide, Millicent darted her head forward and engulfed Gloria's pussy with her mouth. Gloria's legs spasmed and fluttered as they draped across Millicent's shoulders, and then she locked her ankles together so she could pull the black-haired girl closer to her body. Her heels beat a tattoo in the middle of Millicent's back, and Bill figured that she was getting her jollies. It was time for his fun. The water had relaxed him, but the sight of the two contrasting nude figures of the women had made him horny. Moving toward Millicent, he looked at her thick black hair as it fell wetly about her shoulders and saw the water running in little rivulets down her smooth back. As he looked the situation over, he realized that he would have to take her from behind. He wasn't sure how she was going to react to that since she had told him that she was still sore from the night before.
Fuck it, Bill thought, and dove under the water. He could see clear enough to make out Millicent's outstretched legs, bouncing up and down the balls of her feet as she sought to get closer to .Gloria's body. Bill stroked and glided through the water with ease. His outstretched hand touched the side of the pool and he surfaced next to the entwined girls.
Millicent wasn't aware of his arrival since her view to the side was blocked by one of Gloria's slim thighs, and Gloria was on a trip of her own and had probably forgotten all about him already.
Moving behind Millicent, Bill let his arms encircle her waist and, staying out of the way of Gloria's flailing feet, cupped one of Millicent's rich, full breasts in each hand. They felt lighter under water, but they were still firm and heavy.
Bill felt Millicent's body stiffen as his prick brushed against the cheeks of her ass. Backing away, he continued to squeeze and knead the flesh of her tits, tweaking the nipples from time to time with his thumb and forefinger, Releasing his grip on one tit, Bill let his hand slide down through the water along her belly until his fingers entangled themselves in the floating hairs that covered her puffy pussy. His middle finger sought the slot that he knew was under the black foliage. Finding it, he opened her up like a clam. Bill kicked her legs further apart with his feet and dropped down in the water so that he could bring his hot prick to her opening. He found her hole with his middle finger and felt the slickness in spite of the watery surroundings.
Arching his hips forward, Bill pushed his cock between her legs and used his hand to stuff the head into her ready and waiting hole. It slipped in easier than he thought it would under water, and he grabbed her hips in both hands. Millicent had resisted for a moment when he had tried to get her legs spread apart and Bill figured that she probably thought that he was going to go up the back way again. But, when the head of his cock slipped into her oiled hole, she spread her legs willingly and helped him as much as she could while not leaving Gloria for a second.
Pushing his hips up, Bill felt himself slide into her, the tight channel gripping him as his prick moved into her grotto, pushing tissue aside as it drove into her depths. Bill heard Millicent moan deep in her throat as he filled her with his thick staff.
Gloria's legs were a problem, because they were in his way. Looking over the situation, Bill resolved that problem by lifting her legs over his shoulders as well. She made the adjustment, apparently too engrossed in the delights that Millicent was giving her cunt to mind in what position her legs were placed. With her legs over his shoulders as well as Millicent's, Bill could now move directly behind the black-haired girl and stroke into her without being obstructed or hit by a stray foot.
Bouncing up and down in the water, Bill slid the full length of his cock into and out of Millicent's resilient and eager cunt. Each time he slammed into her butt with his pelvis, she grunted with pleasure. Despite this, her mouth never left Gloria's bare cunt, her tongue lapping up and down the groove, then twirling about the raised clit button that Bill could clearly see over Millicent's shoulder.
Gloria was tossing back and forth at the edge of the pool, her cries were soft, low moans. Her hands alternately gripped her own breasts and then the top of Millicent's wet head. Her belly was heaving up and down at a quick rate, and Bill sensed that she was in the throes of a giant multiple orgasm that was shaking her entire body to the core.
Hugging Millicent's wet back, Bill wrapped his arms around her supple body and gripped a tit in one hand while his other sought the knob of her clit that was somewhere near that point where his prick was relentlessly moving in and out of her cunt like a piston. His fingers gripped and pulled at the lips of her cunt until they encountered the hard nub that rose from between the lips of her twat. Millicent jerked with a sudden start as his fingers sought to capture the elusive piece of tender flesh that was slick and wet with her pouring juices and the water surrounding it in the pool. Flicking his finger back and forth across the clit, Bill pulled and twisted the nipple that he grasped tightly in his other hand. Millicent started a low guttural moan that began deep in her throat and worked its way out until it was nearly a scream, muffled only by the closeness of her mouth to Gloria's spasming cunt.
Both women were now in the throes of orgasm. Bill pumped harder into Millicent's pussy, jerking his hips with all the force he could muster, the power of Bill's thrusting strokes aided by the buoyancy of the water lifted Millicent off her feet with every jabbing lunge. She was forced to grip Gloria's legs even harder in order to stay glued to the wet cunt she was so tenderly licking.
Gloria's moans were getting louder and the high thrashing at the side of the pool was getting wilder as Millicent continued to apply the tip of her practiced tongue to the most sensitive parts of Gloria's pussy. Bill looked up to see her arch herself off the deck, using her hands to hold up the cheeks of her ass off the tiled surface.
Her legs were spread as wide as possible and were jerking wildly in the air. With a shuddering cry, she collapsed on the deck, her hands feebly pushing Millicent's head and mouth away from her crotch. Her rib cage rose and fell rapidly with the effort of her breathing, and Bill could see the clear drops of perspiration that dripped down her face and onto the decking.
Free of her lingual burden, Millicent turned her full attention to her own enjoyment. She bucked back against Bill, thrusting her ass into his groin. He was so drained from his previous efforts that he had been unconscious of urgent desire. He had merely been enjoying the sensual pleasure of having his prick deeply embedded in a woman's cunt, but was not overly anxious to come. The water was a relaxing novelty which he was enjoying to the fullest.
Millicent, on the other hand, was a seething mass of hyper-tensed flesh, eagerly seeking orgasm after orgasm. Her hands gripped the edge of the pool as she shoved herself harder and harder against the fleshy rod that Bill was steadily pumping into her cunt.
"Let me turn around," she half gasped.
Bill pulled his cock out of her sheath and released his grip on her tit and clit. Millicent lunged at him like a tigress, wrapping her arms around his neck and raising her body so that she could wrap her full thighs around his narrow waist. Bill gripped the cheeks of her ass in each hand, and Millicent let go of his neck with one hand long enough to grab his cock and place it against the entrance to her cunt. After the head was securely in her hole, she raised up slightly and then dropped her full weight on it, impaling herself on,his staff.
With the added buoyancy of the water, Bill could lift Millicent easily and he pulled her up and down his cock with increasing vigor. She was mumbling incoherently, with her lips pressed against his neck, her teeth biting at his flesh from time to time as the pleasure that was in her cunt became more intense.
Her pussy muscles were gripping his staff hard, milking it and drawing up the fluids from deep within his body. He felt them stir and was surprised that he had anything left to give after being drained so completely earlier in the day by Marge's cunt, and later her sucking, humming mouth.
Feeling the added swelling along the full length of his staff, Bill jammed himself harder into Millicent's tightly clamped hole. He could feel the head of his cock start to bloat with added blood, and the cheeks of his ass were starting their rhythmic throbbing that he knew always preceded his orgasms. Then it came, roaring from his depths, pushing upward and finally out of his body, through his throbbing prick, to be spit out the slitted end of his cock and into Millicent's womb.
Bill grunted and pulled her more tightly to him, stopping his up and down lifting of her body in the water. He jammed her body down hard on his cock as the spurts started, and held her there until he was finished and his prick was rapidly shrinking within her twat.
Releasing her tight grip from around her shoulders, and unlocking her jaw where she had clamped it into his shoulder, Millicent swam away from him on her back as Bill stood in the middle of the pool and watched. She pulled herself out of the water, shook herself like an animal, and hurried to Gloria's side.
Bill watched as the blonde woman opened her eyes to look up at the dripping figure of Millicent standing over her, legs spread wide, hair tangled and running in loose strings down the front of her face. Her breasts were heaving with the strain of her heavy breathing, their bulging white surfaces streaked with red where Bill's fingers had dug into the tender flesh.
"Do me," she gasped, and threw her legs across the startled figure of the blonde.
Bill waded to the shallow end of the pool as Millicent squatted on her haunches so that her cunt, still dripping from his discharge, was directly over Gloria's face. He was climbing tiredly up the steps of the pool when he heard Gloria's protests.
"No! Please! Not just after he has had you. I don't want to taste him, just you," she whined.
"Do me," Millicent now croaked, her voice cracking.
Watching as he dried himself leisurely with a big towel he had found on one of the mats, Bill saw Millicent entwine her fingers in Gloria's long blonde hair and savagely pull the slim girl's face into her gaping crotch. The girl twisted her head from side to side in an effort to get away, but Millicent had a firm grip on her hair and was not letting go. She dropped to her knees, shoved her wet pussy onto the struggling girl's mouth, stifling a scream of protest from the lips of the willowy blonde.
Bill heard the telltale slurping sounds coming from the edge of the pool as he walked through the sliding glass doors, pulling his scarf around his neck. He closed the big double doors quietly as he left the house and climbed into his small car. What a trip, he thought as he turned the key to start the engine.
CHAPTER SIX
Water swirled around him in varying shades of phosphorescent colors, it swept him along in its soft current, warm and liquid. He struggled to swim against it, but he was always being taken down a wide river, spun around in little eddies of blues, pinks, and lavenders. At times he was on top of the water, sometimes under it. He fought to stay on the top of the gently moving liquid that had him in its grip, but each time he surfaced he was drawn under again.
The wide river turned into a small lake, and then for no good reason that,he could fathom, into a deep pool. The water was crystal clear and he could seem himself floating under the surface. He tried to reason why he could see himself, but could not. He swam, kicking his feet hard, trying to move to the edge of the deep pool, which he couldn't really see, but knew was close at hand. He could move. Turning over, he tried floating on his back, but was suddenly swept away into a rapid cascade of rushing fluid. He could hear voices, women's voices, humming, beckoning him to follow them like the legendary sirens of Homer. The voices melding into one, soft and alluring. As he rushed along, he could hear the roar of water falling. A waterfall! He was going to be swept over a waterfall and crushed on the rocks below. He didn't know why he knew this, but he did. He fought the steady pulling current as hard as he could, he tried to kick, but his feet wouldn't move. He flailed his arms, straining every muscle in his body, but he was still being pulled ever closer to the sound of falling water and his death.
He was getting closer, and he could fight. The soft, feminine voice was calling for him, luring him, pulling him toward the rushing sound of the waterfall. He looked around wildly for something to grasp, for something he could hold onto so he could save himself, but there was nothing but the churning water.
The water was a splashing roar, and he knew that he was at the edge. He lunged back with all his strength, but was pulled over the edge, the water carrying him down, ever down. He opened his mouth to scream, but the scream didn't come, there was only the sound of the falling water and the sound of the singing siren. His body hit. The sounds of the rushing water and the singing stopped. He thought he was dead. His neck felt funny. It must be broken. He opened his eyes to look at his broken body.
Sunlight highlighted the beamed ceiling of his own bedroom. He blinked. Blinked again, and the sunlight or the beams of the ceiling didn't go away. He carefully moved his eyes from side to side. The walls, the chest, curtained windows, all the familiar things of his room where there before him, as they had always been. Reason replaced fantasy in his clouded and befuddled brain. He'd had a nightmare. A real whopper.
Bill looked around again. He was lying half in and half out of his own bed. The sheets and blanket were wrapped tightly around his legs, making them immobile. He could hear the shower running, and someone humming loudly in the bathroom. Just as these sounds registered in his head, the humming and the sound of falling water from the shower stopped. The shower door clicked open and slammed shut.
What the fucking hell is going on, he thought, getting to his feet after untangling himself from the sheets and blanket. He stood up beside the bed, naked.
Marge's dusky figure padded through the bedroom door, a towel in her hands, her tremendous melon-like breasts swaying and bouncing as she walked into the room, drying the tiny rivulets of water that sparkled and glistened in the sunlight. She stopped when she saw him standing by the bed, the sheets and blanket twisted and rumpled at his feet.
"Man, you sure do tear hell out of a bed. I just changed it yesterday after you left," she said in mock anger.
"Never mind that, goddamn it. What the hell are you doing here, anyway?" Bill asked.
"I came back for seconds on that big white stick of yours. I liked it," she giggled.
"But I've got things to do. What the hell time is it, anyway?" he asked her in an exasperated voice.
" 'Bout noon," she replied. "How the hell did you get in here?" he asked next.
"I've got a key, remember?" she chided.
"Oh, yeah, I remember," he answered, remembering all too well their pure animal-like coupling of the day before and the exquisite delights that she had introduced him to. A hum job. Christ, what a mind blower!
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bill held his head in his hands. He rubbed his eyes and then his temples. When he looked up, Marge was standing in front of him in all her naked glory. The sunlight steaming in through the windows made her coffee-colored skin glow with richness, accenting the rounding curves of her body, the bulging swell of her magnificently proportioned breasts, with their nearly black tips, puckered slightly now from the stimulation they had received from the rough nap of the big towel. His eyes stared at the deep dimple of her navel set in the middle of her flat belly just above the triangle of wiry curls that covered her pussy lips.
Sinking to her knees in front of him, Marge took Bill's face in her hands. "What's the matter, didn't you like what I did for you yesterday?"
"Sure, I liked it fine. Never had anything like it before in my whole life, but I just woke up from a rotten dream and I'm trying to get my head straight," he answered her honestly.
Her hands slid down his face, over his shoulders, and came to rest with her palms flat against his chest. Pushing him back gently but firmly, Marge told him softly, "You just do that, and I'll try to help you."
Bill let her push him onto his back, his legs still bent over the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out with a soft, whooshing sound.
His legs parted naturally, and he felt Marge push her body between them, her hands sliding down his chest, across his belly, and centering themselves around the triangle of hair tufted up from around the base of his cock.
"You'll like it better if you watch," she said, looking at him from between his legs.
Pulling a pillow under his head, Bill watched her as she cupped his hanging balls in one hand, squeezing and rolling the two encased walnuts between her fingers. Her fingernails scraped at the tender skin under his hanging sac and tickled his ass-hole. The muscles of his butt convulsed at her touch but it was a delightful convulsion.
With her other hand, she took his limp prick, letting her fingers circle the flaccid flesh, pulling the skin up until it covered the soft, knobby head. Looking intensely at the head of his prick, she pulled the skin down again, stretching it tight, and squeezing it so that the head puffed slightly from the blood trapped there.
Bill felt the muscles of his belly contract as desire rose in him like a bubbling spring. The desire became more intense as he watched Marge's bright pink tongue dart out and lick at the head of his prick. It provided a tingling wet warmth that traveled down the shaft of his cock and into the hanging sac containing his balls. She circled his prick's head with her lapping tongue, wetting and warming it. Holding the shaft in her hand, she sucked at the head of his prick like a candy cane, letting it pop out of her mouth, then dipping her head, mouth wide, to capture it again to be sucked and savored.
Listening, Bill could hear the beating of his heart thumping in his ears. It got louder, sending the rich blood of his young body racing toward the center of his pelvis to fill and engorge his prick. He felt the muscular contractions of his ass as his body responded to Marge's expert tongue. His blood boiled into his cock, hot and thick. As her sucking lips released the head, it throbbed, jerked, and rose from between her tightly grasping fingers.
Releasing her tight grip, she allowed the blood to fill the knob at the top of his white column of flesh, and Bill watched in a strange, fascinated way as it swelled, lengthened, and became a hard and rigid tool, ready for his most sensual delights.
"Ummm, that's much better," she said, holding his now hardened prick lightly between her fingers, watching as it pulsed with its own life.
Lifting herself higher, Marge laid his cock in the tight groove between her large, succulent breasts. She pushed them together, making a tight channel of warm flesh. Rolling her breasts with her hands pressed tightly to her sides, Marge let the warmth and texture of her tits move up and down the surface of Bill's prick. He watched as his prick's head, sticking up from between the two luscious mounds, became redder as it filled with even more blood. He felt the pull of his ass-hole as his muscles strained and contorted to force his prick to throb harder within the confines of her titted channel.
"That's nice," she said, "I can feel it pushing against me."
"What other tricks do you know?" Bill asked, lifting his head from the pillow.
With a smile, Marge looked back at him, saying, "Just wait and see."
"I might have a few of my own," he remarked.
"Nothing kinky, I hope," she said, still rolling her breasts over his cock.
"Nope, just plain good fun."
"I'm game for that."
"Come on and get on the bed and I'll show you a few," Bill suggested.
"Not yet. I want to play some more."
"Okay, it's your thing," he said, leaning back against the pillow.
Dropping her tits so they bounced and jiggled, Marge got to her feet, spreading her legs and placing her knees on either side of Bill's hips. "I want to top-ride you for a while. Can you dig it?"
"Couldn't have made a better suggestion myself," Bill answered as he scooted his hips closer to the edge of the bed to make it easier for her.
On her knees, Marge held herself erect and took his prick in one hand and parted the lips of her cunt with the other. She inched herself forward until she had the head of his cock directly in line with her slot. Holding her pussy lips open, she wedged the head of his cock in the groove and moved it back and forth, wetting the head and stimulating herself at the same time.
"Umm. I like that. How does it feel to you?" she asked as she rubbed herself harder against the flesh of his prick's head.
"Just great," he admitted.
Looking down his body, Bill could see that the head of his prick was glistening with the fluids that were emitting from her hole. She was already running like a river. The flow was so great that some of the viscous fluid ran off the head of his prick on down the shaft.
Marge's head was thrown back, her eyes closed, and her lips parted. A strangled moan was coming from deep in her throat as she rubbed her cunt and clit against the head of his prick harder. She moved her knees forward a little and then spread them as wide as she could, spreading the pussy lips wide, exposing the pink gash that had been covered by the dark skin and black, wiry hair which spread from between her lush thighs up over the lower portion of her belly in a tiny black triangle.
Bill could feel as well as see the bright pink hole as it opened and closed just above the head of his prick. He wanted to rip into that bright little spot with all the power of his body, but he knew that Marge was doing her own thing and he was getting all the benefit, so he relaxed, lying back on the pillow and enjoying the multiple sensations that were making him tingle in every part of his body.
Marge placed the tip of his cock at the bright pink opening of her cunt and let her undulating lips nibble at the bulging head. "Don't move, man. Let me do it my way."
"Go ahead, baby. Do your own thing."
Springing up and down on her powerful thighs, Marge let the tip of his cock enter into her hole a little more. Looking down his tensed body, Bill could see that only about half of his cock's head was securely lodged in her opening. Marge was panting a little, apparently trying to hold back and savor the feeling that she had held for as long as possible before she changed her position. Sucking in her breath, Marge's entire body stiffened and she suddenly and without the slightest warning plunged downward.
Bill's cock ripped into her innards, pushing aside the delicate tissues, and she impaled herself on his flesh. Her channel was warm and wet, well prepared for the sudden, violent plunge that she made to feel his fullness filling her cunt, stretching the opening with his thick member. Marge grunted loudly as her hips smacked against Bill's thighs and his entire cock was rammed into her box until she couldn't take another inch. He could feel the tip pressing against something deep within her body and he twitched his hips to move his cock against the obstruction.
Marge groaned again and twisted her body from side to side, her hands clutched at each thigh, her belly heaving, breasts swelling with passion. She leaned forward at the waist, her hands sliding up Bill's body and circling his neck, her breasts pressing tightly against his chest. Tilting her head back, she opened her mouth and let her tongue dart out to cover his face with her warm saliva.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Bill twisted his head, his lips seeking hers, joining them, his tongue pressed hard against hers. Her cunt muscles were squeezing his cock, making it grow even bigger with a throbbing force that he didn't think he had. He wanted to move, to ram his cock in and out of her body, to make her cry with passion, to come a dozen times, to feel his own juice as it splashed into her from deep within herself. He wanted all these things and he wanted them now. Arching his body, he attempted to roll her off him so that he could get on top and fuck her until she cried for him to stop, but she wouldn't budge.
"No, man, let me do it my way for a while. It'll be good, I promise."
Bill ceased his efforts to dislodge her from her position astride him and waited for the next part of Marge's thing.
Still pressing herself tightly against him, Marge started raising her hips, letting his cock slip out of her tightly gripping cunt. She pulled her body from him until just the head of his prick was in place, and then, with a shuddering moan, she would plunge down with all the force she could muster, rocking back and forth as she settled against him, his cock filling her to the fullest. Up and down the pattern went, and Bill was afraid that she was going to hurt herself, but didn't say a word, figuring she knew what and how much she wanted and was able to take. And so it went, stroke after stroke, up slowly, and then down again with a sudden plunging, moaning drop of her entire body as she impaled herself on his cock time and time again.
Bill could feel her cunt milking at his cock as she rocked back and forth after each downward stroke, trying to get his milk to bathe her innards with its warm substance. Her teeth were at his shoulder, nipping the skin, taking whole mouthfuls to chew and lave with her tongue. Rumbling moans vibrated in her throat. Finally she announced what Bill had already suspected.
"Coming! Now! Fuck me anyway you want, but fuck me hard," she cried in a barely coherent voice, spitting the words from between clenched teeth as they bit and gnawed at his shoulder.
Bill had been waiting patiently for his turn. Now he could pay her back for the hum job she had introduced yesterday. He was going to give her a hum job to end all hum jobs. Arching his body, Bill rolled Marge on her side and then on her back. As he spread her legs, he pulled open the drawer of the small nightstand next to the bed and pulled out the banana-shaped vibrator that he stored there. Pushing back on Marge's legs, he raised them until her knees were touching her shoulders, then spread her thighs as wide as possible. This forced her cunt to gape wide open, ready and unprotected from any form of intrusion that he cared to make upon it.
Spinning around, Bill placed himself in the classic sixty-nine position, his cock just above Marge's lips and his head thrust forward between her spread thighs. As he turned on the thick, white device, Bill felt Marge take his cock into her mouth, sucking on the root that had so recently been planted deep in her grotto. Her saliva mixed with her own lubricating juices, but she sucked him without complaint.
Turning on the switch at the base of the machine, Bill heard and felt it spring into life, humming and quivering in his hand. Without preliminaries, he pointed it at her gaping hole and plunged it into her, ramming the full length of it into her body until it would go no further, until just the round, flat base was visible, its whiteness contrasting starkly with the darkness of her skin.
Marge jerked her hips wildly as the plastic prick with the vibrating nose ripped into her box.
She dropped Bill's prick from her mouth as she cried out with the sudden unexpected invasion of her cunt. Bill held her legs spread wide so that she couldn't flail about and then started moving the vibrator in and out of her cunt with fast, hard strokes. Bill felt her lips again grip his cock, her hands guiding it to her mouth. Her sucking was more vigorous and she was humming as loudly as she possibly could. It was just what Bill wanted a mutual hum job.
He buried the vibrator in her cunt, ceasing his hard strokes, and turned the base so that the quickly pulsating tip would spin around deep inside her cunt, applying its oscillating sensations to every surface of her channel. Her muscles were spasming as she pushed and pulled at the device with her cunt. Bill watched them ooze up around the base and then retreat, her cunt trying to turn itself inside out.
He felt Marge wrap her arms around his hips and her fingers slid into the open crack of his ass. They ran down the groove until they found the puckered star of his ass-hole and then they tickled and felt for the opening. The tip of a finger probed and then forced an entrance. She pushed hard and buried her finger deep in his bowels, rolling it around and then pushing it in and out slowly.
Wetting his middle finger with the juices that were oozing from around the base of the vibrator, Bill aimed at her exposed ass-hole and without feeling or priming it, he plunged his finger into her nether hole as deeply as he could, She bucked against his hand, attempting to dislodge him, but he pressed on, forcing his entire finger into her bowels. They stroked into one another, wildly and without reservation. They were free, giving and taking mutual pleasure.
Bill's prick felt swollen and sore as Marge worked on it with her lips, teeth, and tongue. He could feel the rumbling in his balls that meant he was about to come. The head of his prick was swollen to the point of bursting. Marge, apparently sensing nearness of his climax, bit down on that tender area just behind the glans, and rammed her finger as hard as she could into his ass.
The explosion of his coming shook Bill to the core. The jets of liquid spurted from the slitted end of his cock and bathed the back of Marge's throat with the viscous milky substance that poured from deep within his body. Every muscle in his body was flexed to the point of ultimate strain. His ass-hole tightened around Marge's finger so that she could not move it in or out. His hips were jammed forward, forcing nearly the entire length of his cock into her sucking mouth. In spite of the fact that the last spurt of his come had already splashed into her throat to be swallowed hungrily, Marge maintained her grip on his softening prick, sucking and milking the softening flesh with her lips, running her tongue over the withered head.
As if by mutual agreement, they each withdrew their buried fingers from the other's ass-hole. When Bill attempted to remove the humming vibrator as well, Marge bucked and twisted under him, telling him that she wanted it to remain buried in her body.
At last his prick slid from between her lips and he was free to roll away and stretch out on the bed to relax his cramped and sore muscles. He immediately fell into a deep and undisturbed sleep.
There were no more dreams of being swept to his ultimate destruction by waves of softly clinging water. There were no more siren voices to lure him over the precipice of some fantasy waterfall. There was nothing, just deep, black sleep, without fear, without struggle, He was warm. He was relaxed, vaguely conscious of another warm and relaxed being near him, and even that feeling drifted away from his as he dropped deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. Soon there was nothing at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Stepping across the broken concrete that led up to Acid George's pad in the old rundown court near Fairfax and Beverly, Bill looked at the sagging screens hanging loosely on rusted metal hooks set in old, dry wood, the paint chipped and flaking from lack of care. Roots had split the sidewalk in a myriad of jagged patterns and the cement was raised in patchwork portions that made walking a hazard.
The blare of rock music greeted him as he climbed the steps to Acid George's small, dingy pad. Bill swung open the rusty screen door and pushed at the weathered surface of the door. It swung open and the music got louder, much louder. He pushed his way inside and looked around the dim room. The usual number of bodies were stretched out on the rickety furniture and on the floor. The sweet pungent odor of pot assailed his nostrils and he quickly identified its origin as the smoking water pipe in the center of the rug, surrounded by prone bodies all sucking greedily at plastic tubes running into a rubber stopper at the top of the big glass jar on the floor.
As Bill moved closer, Acid George slipped the plastic tube out from between his lips and rolled over. "What's your pleasure, man?"
"Nothing, man, I'm meeting that chick I was asking you about the other day. She's supposed to be here tonight."
"Outa sight chick, man, but she hasn't showed up yet. Hey, man, I could turn you on to a couple lids of some pretty good grass. Not as good as the Mexican stuff, but pretty good for growing wild in Iowa. It's rough, man. With this Intercept thing heating up the border, grass is hard to come by. What a drag. You know, man, sometimes I wonder if government is really a necessary evil. Before this latest caper, everything was cool; you could turn on a little with grass and everybody was happy, see? Now, man, all these cats switching to pills or worse and blowing their little minds with uppers and downers that-they never would have touched with a ten-foot-pole before. like I said, man, it's a real drag," Acid George complained bitterly and then turned back to his plastic tube.
Sitting down against the wall of the small apartment, Bill wrapped his arms around his knees and settled down to wait. He hoped that Marge would have enough sense to make the damn bed after she woke up. He had left her sleeping when he got up and showered and dressed for his meeting with Terri Martin. He thought that the noise would rouse her, but when he had looked into the bedroom, she was still stretched out, her legs wide apart, the vibrator lying white and silent on the floor next to the bed. As he had stood in the doorway, Marge had stirred, rolled over, and curled up in a little ball, her head just barely on the pillow. He had gone into the room, taken a last look at the magnificence of her body and then pulled the covers over her nakedness.
He had awakened with a hard-on and had to talk himself out of waking up Marge to relieve the tension. A piss had done the same thing and by the time he had gotten out of the shower, the desire was gone. Good thing too, because you could get hung up on a chick like Marge, and that would be a bad scene, a very bad scene.
Bill saw the shaft of sunlight streak through the door as it opened. Terri Martin must have just washed her hair because it practically floated away from her head, the porch light catching each little strand and shimmeringly cresting her head in a halo of brilliant light. Bill looked at her glowing silhouette through the blue haze of pot smoke, then the door closed and she was inside the room, standing by the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness.
Looking around the room, she nodded at several people, and then her gaze fell on Bill, still sitting with his back against the wall, arms clasped tightly about his knees. He couldn't be too obvious. Let her make a move.
"Hi, baby," Acid George said from his position around the water pipe. "The cat you're looking for is over there against the wall."
She nodded and moved toward Bill. He watched her coming across the room, her narrow hips tightly encased in hip-hugging bell-bottoms, her feet in the same flat-nosed boots she wore yesterday, and a clinging, long-sleeved blouse that was partly covered by a fringed leather vest. Several strands of beads hung around her neck and swung with the same rhythm as her obviously unencumbered breasts. As she neared, he moved down the wall a bit to make room for her.
"Hi, my name's Bill," he said in greeting. "Hi, Terri's mine."
"How's the astrology coming?" Bill said, for openers.
"I don't know. I really don't fool with it much. It's just kind of interesting and I'm kind of curious," she said matter-of-factly. "How's the Tarot?"
"To tell you the truth, I haven't even cracked the book yet. It's still in the car. Say, I'm hungry as hell. What say we head over to that Mexican restaurant on Beverly a couple of blocks from here and get something to eat," Bill suggested, hoping that she hadn't eaten dinner yet.
"I'd like to but I have to watch my bread. I'm a little low right now," she answered, looking down at her boots.
"That's okay. I've got enough bread for the both of us," Bill countered.
"Okay, man. If it's cool with you," she said, and started getting to her feet.
They got a booth by one of the windows overlooking the little patio garden and gave their order to the waitress in the low-necked blouse and long, floor-length hoop skirt.
"You been in Los Angeles long?" he ventured.
"How'd you know I wasn't from L.A.? " she countered defensively.
"Well, most people aren't, so I just assumed that you had come from someplace else like the rest of us, or at least like me," Bill said, quickly covering himself and giving himself a mental kick for the slip. It was close, too close. She's uptight and on the ball, he recorded in his head.
Her clear eyes locked with his and held them for a long moment. It was as if she were trying to make up her mind to trust him. "I've been here a couple of weeks," she said finally, "I came down from up North."
"Just here for a little vacation?" he asked.
"In a way. I really came down here to get my head straight about a few things and find out in what direction I want to go."
"How are you doing?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation going until the food arrived.
"Oh, I've got a couple of questions answered, but there is one thing you can tell me," she said, smiling a little.
"Okay, shoot."
"Why did you hustle me in the book store and then invite me out to eat tonight? Are you trying to hustle my bod?" she asked with disarming frankness.
Bill looked her square in the eyes. "Sure, you're a groovy-looking chick. As far as I'm concerned, balling is where it's at."
"Yeah. If it's with someone you dig, but it's no fun if you're just another cunt for some cat's prick," she said bluntly, looking right into Bill's eyes again as if trying to find out where his head was at.
"I don't know about chicks, but balling is fun anytime for a cat," he said.
"I suppose," she ended the discussion, turning her head and looking through the window into the garden.
Thank God, Bill thought, here comes the food.
The waitress slide the big oval dishes in front of them and then scurried away to get their coffee. The restaurant was busy, and when the waitress finally returned they were half finished with their food. They had both ordered tacos, beans, and rice. The harried waitress slopped the coffee into the two cups, spilling it into the saucers in her hurry to get to her other customers. They finished their meal in silence, drank their coffee, and got the check, all with a minimum, of conversation.
Bill paid the cashier as they left, and while they were walking down the two steps leading out of the restaurant, Bill popped it.
"How 'bout going up to my place and seeing if we can figure out what the Tarot cards say?"
She didn't give him an answer until after they had walked half the length of the restaurant on the outside, heading toward the parking lot next door.
"Okay, man, but I want to reserve the right to say no if I don't want to ball, okay."
"Fair enough."
Putting the key in the door, Bill felt a sudden wave of fear ripple through his body. He said a little prayer that Marge had split and had made the bed. There's nothing that bugs a chick more than to see two rumpled pillows in a double bed she has just been invited to share.
Bill swung the door open, reached inside to turn on the light, and then stepped back to allow Terri to go through the door first.
She let him pass and stood just inside the door under the entrance way light. Bill moved into the living room, switching on lights as he went. He opened the wide curtain across the front of the room so that she could see the twinkling lights of the city below.
"This is a very nice pad," she said. "It must cost you a bundle."
"My one luxury. A Cancerian compulsion."
Bill put the Tarot cards and instruction book on the long coffee table. "Can I get you some coffee?" he asked.
"That'd be cool."
Hurrying into the kitchen, Bill quickly looked through the open door to the bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief. The bed was made. After filling the kettle under the tap, Bill placed it over the high gas flame. When he turned to go back into the living room, Terri was standing in the entrance, watching him intently.
"That water will take a little while to heat, let's go into the other room and take a look at the Tarot book," Bill offered.
"Okay," she said, turning on her heel.
Bill followed her into the living room and sat down next to her on the couch. They spent the next few minutes looking through the book, reading aloud the meanings for some of the cards. They paid careful attention on how to lay out the hand and what the position of each card meant. They had just decided that Terri was a perfect Queen of Cups, when the water started to boil and announced its readiness with a shrill whistle.
"Shuffle the cards, I'll get the coffee," Bill said, rising and hurrying into the kitchen.
As he poured the steaming water into each cup, he heard the sharp cardboard clatter of Terri ruffling the cards. Picking up the cups, Bill walked carefully back to the couch, gingerly setting the cups down on the coffee table before sitting down again.
Terri set the cards on the table top in a neat pile and then, using her left hand, cut them twice, making three uneven stacks.
"All set to go?" Bill asked.
"Let's give it a try," she said, picking up the book which contained the meanings for the cards.
Bill made a single pile out of the three stacks and started turning the cards up one by one in a rough H design. Only one card seemed out of place, the one that represented Influences either leaving or about to leave. It was sitting along just to the left of the left leg of the H. Bill looked at it as he laid it on the coffee table. It was the Queen of Swords. The cross bar of the H was made up of the Lovers, while the right hand leg of the H consisted of the High Priestess, the Two of Cups, the Tower, and finally, at the top, the King of Wands.
"Who's the chick?" Bill asked, pointing to the Queen of Swords.
"Probably my aunt," Terri said. "I've lived with her ever since my mother and father were killed in an accident."
"Looks like you have an excellent spread," Bill commented. "You're going to get your head straight about love and where you're at as a woman and find some cat."
"That's sort of what it says," Terri said, looking at the book and flipping pages to find out the meaning of each card in the spread. "My aunt would really freak out if she could see this."
"Why?"
"Because she thinks that all she has to do is wiggle her fingers and I'll do whatever she wants me to. See, she wants to get the control of my estate away from the lawyers that have handled it ever since my father and mother die. She keeps telling me how they are losing my money or not making enough. Well, I happen to know they weren't doing any of those things, but I agreed with my aunt just to keep her quiet. Well, she started believing her own stories and brought suit against the executors of the estate, and she wanted me to be the chief witness. I bugged out. I'm sure she's tried to find me, but even if she did I wouldn't testify against the present executors."
"Kind of a bummer, isn't it?" Bill commented, his mind working over the things that Terri Martin just said. His whole deal had been based on the fact that she would testify and dear
Aunt Millicent would get control of all that nice money. And now Terri Martin had just shot down his whole balloon.
"Yep," she said, laying the book on the table and turning toward Bill.
"Do you want some more coffee?" Bill asked, trying to collect himself and figure out a new strategy.
"Nope. You got any sounds in this pad, man?" she asked, looking around the room.
"Sure. Right over there against the wall," Bill said, pointing to the self-contained stereo system in its hand-rubbed cabinet.
"Hey! This is really far out," she told Bill, appreciating the stereo system and his selection of albums. "Hey, man, how does it work?"
Bill walked over to the stereo, turned several knobs, placed the records she had selected on the automatic changer, and then hit the starter switch in front of the needle arm.
As he stepped back, he ran right into Terri. Stumbling, he sought to regain his balance and grabbed for some support. His arms circled her waist and his hand found the wall behind her.
"If you hadn't just stepped all over me, I'd have sworn this was a put-up job," she said with a little smile.
He looked down into her face which was tilted back, her head against the wall, and the lights went on in his head, Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was a natural, so perfect that a five-year-old kid could have seen it. Why play for peanuts when you can play the same game and get the whole farm? "I still think you're a groovy chick."
"That's cool, because I think you're a pretty heavy cat."
Moving his body forward, Bill tightened the grip of his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. He bent his head, his lips brushing her forehead, eyelids, and nose, before fastening on her own half-parted lips. His hands moved up and down her back, feeling the soft material of her blouse and the roughed-out texture of the leather vest.
Her arms moved up until she was able to get them securely around his neck and then she pulled his face closer to his, letting her lips open wider and allowing his tongue to slip into the warm cavern of her mouth.
Bill felt the schoolboy tingle of his first kiss as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth, probing and duelling with her tongue as they swayed back and forth next to the stereo which blared out the latest in rock sounds, the coital beat hammering against the walls, filling the room with its insistent rhythm, its urgency, its need.
By an uncanny common consent, unstated, but understood by both, they broke the long kiss, Bill's fingers gripping Terri by the shoulders while she snuggled her head to his chest. They stood like that for a long moment.
"You want to do a thing?" Bill asked, hoping that she wouldn't refuse to utilize her option to say no.
She didn't say a word, but just nodded her head up and down against his chest in silent agreement.
They walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, Bill leading the way, opening the door, turning on or off the lights as needed.
"This is very nice," Terri said, looking around the bedroom and then walking to the edge of the big bed in the center of the room, "It's very masculine, I like that."
"I'm certainly glad you do," said Bill, a husky confidence in his voice that had been absent a few moments before.
Turning around, Terri sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down a little to test the spring in the mattress. "You haven't got any diseases, have you?" she asked, looking right at Bill frankly.
"Not even measles," he replied and pulled his shirt from the top of his flared pants.
"Don't do that. I want to do it," she said.
"Okay," he agreed, taking off his boots and stretching out full length on the bed. He'd have to pull out all the stops with this one, he thought to himself as he watched Terri get up and walk around the bed until she was standing right next to him.
"I've always wondered what it would be like to take a man's clothes off. Is it stimulating?" Terri asked him.
"Depends on who and how it's done," Bill answered.
"Hmmm," was her only reply as she studied him, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands moving to his neck to start unbuttoning the pulled-out body shirt. Her fingers moved quickly and lightly down his front, undoing the buttons expertly. When the last one was undone, Bill raised up on his elbows and shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, down his arms, and to the floor next to the bed.
"That's a nice ANKH," she said, looking at the symbol strung around his neck by a silver chain.
"Thanks," he said.
"You've got a nice bod," she murmured, running her hand over his bare chest and belly, appreciating the firmness and contour of his muscular development.
Her fingers pulled at his belt, working the wide leather through the loops of his pants so that she could get it unbuckled and open. Pulling on the end, she pulled the metal tongue free from the hole and slid the belt end through the buckle. Moving more slowly now, she looked closely at the flat hook clasp that held the top of his pants closed. She figured it out, and with a simple motion of her hands, got it open. The zipper was next and presented no problem. Bill raised his hips and Terri slid his pants down over them, exposing more of his body to her view.
"Very nice," she said when the pants were resting on the floor next to the shirt.
Standing up, Terri went to the end of the bed and pulled off Bill's socks, tossing them in the pile with the shirt and the pants. "Now we find out where it's really at," she said with a smile, letting her hands slide up his bare legs until her fingers were hooked under the elastic wait-band of his shorts.
Again Bill raised his hips and let her slide the shorts over his hips and down his legs, to be finally placed in the same pile of clothing that was growing beside the bed.
"I hope it doesn't stay that way all night," Terri said, pointing at Bill's flaccid penis lying arched across his thigh.
"All in good time," he said, "You're not even undressed yet."
"Hmmm."
Terri peeled back the fringed leather vest and tugged it off her shoulders, letting it drop onto the same pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Tossing her head forward, sending her golden hair flying, she pulled the two strands of beads over her head and dropped them on the floor. Slowly, with her very move intended to provoke him, Terri undid the buttons on her blouse. Pulling the ends out of her snugly fitting bell-bottoms, she undid the last button and let the fabric hang open down the front, but not wide enough for Bill to see her naked breasts. She was wearing a scarf for a belt, and her fingers fiddled at the knot, trying to work it loose. Finally the knot broke apart and the material separated into two parts, each hanging from a different loop on her tight pants. Terri expertly undid the button at the top of her pants, pulled down the zipper, and then stopped.
Bill had been watching each and every move with rapt attention, not wanting to miss a single move, since the entire performance was calculated to stimulate him. He was busily thinking of some things that would very definitely stimulate Terri Martin, turn her on enough that she would freak out and he could have her move in, tell Millicent to go fly a kite, and after a reasonable period, make it all legal. It would be perfect. He might have had second thoughts if Terri were a real dog, but she wasn't she was a groovy looking chick, and with all that money just waiting for them to spend. Oh, hot shit, he had it made.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Terri unzipped her boots and pulled them from her feet. After she pulled off her socks, she stood up and, looking directly at Bill, pulled off her blouse. Her breasts bounced into view, full, firm, and rounded. Cherry-colored tips poked out of the white centers like topping on a scoop of ice cream. In the soft light of the bedside lamp, she was even better than he had remembered that first night he had seen her as she did the wild, uninhibited dance at Acid George's. The lines of her body tapered down into a very narrow waist, the smooth line broken only by the deep indentation of her navel that seemed to wink at him from just above the vee made by her unzipped pants.
Hooking her thumbs into the sides of her pants, Terri thrust her rump out and bent forward slightly, letting her perfect breasts swing back and forth in front of Bill's face, then she tugged and pulled until she had peeled the pants off her flaring hips like she was removing a second skin. As soon as the material was clear of her hips, it fell into a wrinkled lump at her feet. Stepping out with one leg, she kicked the pants away from her with the other and then stood up straight at the end of the bed, full naked, and turning her proud body so that Bill could see it from every angle.
"Why the hell don't you get in bed?" Bill asked with exasperation choking off his words.
Terri moved to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers. Jumping to his feet, Bill grabbed the edge of the sheet and ripped it down the length of the bed, exposing Terri's prone body.
"I'm going to blow your mind," he said as he pulled her body crosswise in the bed, her legs hanging over the side. Kneeling quickly, Bill forced his body between her full luscious thighs, brushing past the satin texture of her skin. His mouth went right for her crotch. Throwing one of her thighs over each shoulder, Bill made a dagger out of his tongue and stabbed at the center of her sex. As his lips engulfed her small pussy and his tongue darted in and out of the tight crack, Bill could feel Terri's fingers running through his hair, pulling and pushing as she tossed on the bed from side to side.
Probing with his tongue, Bill found the center of her pleasure, that small nub of flesh that usually lies hidden in the folds of skin covering a girl's cunt, but rises when she is stimulated and ready for sex. His tongue brushed across it and felt it respond with a jerking throb, rising higher from the folds of flesh that protected it. His tongue sought the small illusive knob again, found it, and gripped it with his lips.
Terri had stopped pulling and pushing at his hair and her hands had dropped to her sides. She was no longer tossing from side to side on the bed, but seemed to be lying there, enjoying his efforts to bring her to that ultimate joy of orgasm. Bill was going to give her the whole works, sucking and fucking like she had never had before. She was going to fall in love with his prick and tongue.
Holding the cheeks of her tight ass in each hand, Bill moved his thumbs until they were aligned on either side of her cunt and using them, he pulled the lips of her pussy open, to give his digging tongue more room in which to work. As he busied himself at her crotch, his nose rummaging through the soft pussy hairs on her cunt and lower belly, Bill was aware of the sweet young taste of her, unsullied by overuse, acid and biting on the end of the tongue. She had a taste of fresh-caught fish, refreshing and alive. His nostrils picked up the scent of her and he savored it. There was a faint aroma of bath soap and cologne, lavender and spice.
Bill burrowed into the delicious slot like an animal, his tongue licking back and forth over Terri's clit, drawing on it with his lips, and finally, when he felt the time was right, gently biting it with his teeth. Her stomach was moving up and down as she labored hard to breathe. Her cunt was open and Bill, when he drew his head back occasionally, could see that her tight little hole was spasming in and out. Going back to his task, Bill figured on one more sensation and then he would take her and fuck her until she couldn't walk or talk straight.
As his tongue licked at her, Bill's thumb sought and found the wrinkled star of her ass-hole. When he was sure that he had his digit in the right position, Bill sucked as much of her clit and pussy lips into his mouth as he could, rolling them around, then biting down gently on the nether flesh. At the same moment, he rammed this thumb into her ass-hole, burying it in her body until no more could be forced in the tightly closed hole. Bill rolled her delicate tissue around in his mouth and rolled his thumb around in her ass, causing Terri to arch her body high off the bed, writhing from side to side and then dropping limply back on the bed.
Figuring it was time for the big moment, Bill rose from his kneeling position between her widely spread thighs, pulling his mouth and thumb from their respective orifices, and dove forward, covering her body with his own.
"Baby, you're outa sight," he said in her ear.
"Hmm."
Lifting her body and pulling her around in the bed, Bill got her straightened out so they were lying properly in the bed. He rolled over on his side and started nibbling at her neck, ear and cheek. His hands were passing back and forth over her full and youthful body, feeling the warmth, the firmness, and the rounded muscular curves. Fitting his knee between her thighs, shoving them apart to allow enough room for his body to fit when the time came. Rolling over on his knees, Bill quickly climbed between her outstretched thighs and gripped his hardened cock with one hand while he felt, for her opening with the other. Guiding his cock, Bill positioned the head at the tight opening and shoved his hips forward to lodge the head within her cavern.
God, she was tight! Tighter than nearly any other woman he had ever experienced. Rearing back, Bill bore down hard, thrusting forward violently with his pelvis, attempting to get the knob-like head of his prick started in her hole. He reached under her, taking the cheeks of her ass in his hands. As he shoved hard down on her body, he lifted her hips up to him.
With a deep sense of satisfaction, Bill felt the head of his cock slip tightly into her hole. Maintaining a steady pressure, Bill bore down on her, forcing more of his staff into her body, feeling the tissues reluctantly part before the head of his cock as it wedged itself deeper into Terri's body.
When the head of his cock had finally penetrated her, Bill had heard Terri gasp and then start a soft moan as he pushed his prick into her. Her arms still by her sides, her legs cocked up at the knees, thighs spread wide to accommodate the width of his body. Bill felt the muscles of her cunt giving way to the onslaught of his cock, felt her body expand and unfold to accept his offering to take his meat and love it. He thought he'd never stop sinking into her depth, but then his pelvis bumped against her up-thrust pubic bone and Bill knew that he was in her to the hilt. He rested for a moment, gathering his strength for the next phase of his lovemaking with Terri Martin. He buried his face in the side of her neck, his lips caressing, his teeth nibbling at the delicate flesh surrounding her ear and under her chin. He wasn't in any hurry, he was going to make it last.
Terri had not moved since his prick had finally reached the depths of her body and Bill had stopped shoving its length into her. He felt that she was waiting for him to take the lead, for him to find his own pace, so that he would be satisfied, complete, and fulfilled. He figured that she was letting him do his own thing on her body and was enjoying it as much as he was.
Secure in that, Bill hunched his hips and started drawing out the long staff of his cock, feeling her cunt grip at it as it slid up her channel. He withdrew until just the head was wedged in her hole and then he began to push steadily back into her, letting his prick fill her cunt to its fullest. He didn't stop until their pubic hair touched, brushed together, and entangled.
Again he rested for a moment, thrilling with the feel of her tight cunt wrapping itself around the full length of his staff and wetting it with her juices. Once more he started out of her and heard the moan that rippled from deep within her throat. She was turned on and he was doing it.
With his hands still cupping her ass, Bill rose and fell on top of her body, pumping his staff into her like a hammerhead pump sending its long metal shaft into the ground to extract oil. Up and down he went, each time finding a new thrill and new experience to excite his senses.
Releasing his grip on her ass, Bill moved his arms until his elbows were behind her knees. He lifted his arms, raising her legs at the knee, and then pushed his arms forward, forcing her thighs and legs back until her knees were nearly touching her shoulders. Bill raised his body a little straighter so that his prick would plunge into her body at the most exciting angle and give her the biggest thrill.
Holding down her legs so that her hole was opened wide and the skin was stretched across her ass, Bill pulled out three-quarters of his cock and then plunged down into her violently. A startled grunt escaped her lips as Bill's prick hit bottom. He began to pump into her steadily, his rhythmic plunges relentless in their driving fury.
The friction that her cunt was putting on his cock was too much. He was straining every fiber in his body not to come down too soon. Bill wanted this one to be a real blowout and for her to feel it as much he did. He figured she was close and so he doubled his efforts to pump into her cunt as hard as he could so that they could pop their nuts together.
.It was funny the way it happened. One minute Bill was in perfect control of the situation; the next moment he was a thrusting, humping animal, throwing himself onto Terri's lovely young body with all the fury of a demon. He was plunging his cock into her cunt as hard and as fast as he could for about four strokes, and then he drew her into his arms as tightly as possible, felt her own arms encircle his neck, and, as his pulsating, throbbing cock sank into her soft flesh with a driving thrust of his hips, Bill felt his seed spurt out in gushes.
Again and again it spit from the tiny slitted end. The come poured out of his body and joined the juices of hers, to swirl together, intermingle, join, cohere, and meld.
Finally, completely drained, Bill collapsed, mumbling incoherently in his drug-like state. As he pulled himself from her body, Bill realized that his prick was still reasonably hard. He'd have to take the chance that it was hard enough and continue to make love to this girl who held the key to his future in her hands. He had to prove to her that he was the best around, the man who had the strength to make her the happiest woman in the world when he made love to her.
Pulling his prick from her body, Bill grabbed her by the hips and turned her over on her stomach. Gripping her on each side of the waist, Bill lifted her until her butt was sticking up in the air and her head was lying on the white pillow. When he rolled her over, Terri had folded her arms and rested her cheek on the back of her hand.
Bill pushed her legs apart quickly and walked between them on his knees. He positioned himself and pushed the head of his cock toward the hole he knew to be waiting succu-lently between the folds of skin at the juncture of her two well-rounded thighs. The probing head of his cock found the entrance that it was seeking and pushed its way into Terri's dark, warm, and wet cavern.
This time Bill felt himself slide into her body easily. She was all oiled up and ready to go, he thought. Leaning forward over her body, Bill grabbed one of her tits in each hand, and plunged his cock in and out of her box as he squeezed and kneaded the resilient flesh of her breast, taking time now and again to tweak the nipples, making them rise and pucker with desire.
After finding its natural lodging place, Bill's prick started to re-swell with new passion, to re-gorge itself with new life-giving blood so that it throbbed and pulsated with new energy and heated passion. A swell of pride rippled through Bill's body as he realized that his body was rising to the challenge, that his youth was bringing him through when he needed it the most.
As he looked down at Terri's face which was turned to the side on the pillow, her hands gripping either side, Bill noted with satisfaction that her mouth was half open and she was emitting strangled grunts each time his prick pushed into her body. He jammed at her harder, feeling a new surge of power as a new energy force drove his hips and thighs faster and harder.
Dropping one of her breasts, Bill rubbed her belly and tangled his fingers in her pubic hair. His finger was seeking her slot, and when he found it, he pushed his finger boldly into it to seek her clit.
It rose to meet him from amid the folds of flesh that protected and covered her cunt. Bill's finger brushed across it, went on, paused, and then returned to brush it again. He could hear Terri gasp each time his finger passed across the rigid nub of tissue.
Gripping it between his thumb and forefinger, Bill pulled at her clit until it was stretched away from the groove of her cunt and then he let it go, to snap back to its accustomed place between the tight lips of her pussy.
Again and again he snapped her clit as he drove into her body and each time he was greeted with her guttural response. He felt his second load of come winging its way up the many ducts of his body toward his prick. He mentally urged it on; he wanted to splash into her again. He felt the time was right, that she was as ready as he was to come.
Sweat was running down his face and chest as he worked at her body with his own. The little drops of clear liquid were dropping off his nose and chin onto her back where they gathered and ran down the groove of her backbone. Bill felt hot, hot all over, just like he had a fever. He wondered about that for a fleeting moment and then put the thought out of his mind so that he could concentrate on blowing his nuts with Terri.
Harder and harder his body worked, thrusting his prick forward and back like the driving rod on a steam locomotive, in and out. Back and forth.
With a strangled cry. Bill felt his come pour down the final tube in his prick and pour out into Terri's waiting body. He felt his muscles contorting as they attempted to spew out the milky substance with greater force and power. Bill's hands gripped her breast harder, his fingers making deep indentations in her flesh. His other hand rubbed and kneaded the tiny clit and rubbed up and down her slot.
As the last of his come drained from his body, Bill felt his prick shrivel and fall from the succulent tube that had housed it so perfectly.
When he was free of her and their bodies were no longer joined by his staff of thick flesh, he rolled to the side of the bed, pulled a pillow under his head, and dropped into a rich, deep sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Insistently, the buzz became a ring and the ringing continued on and off, regularly timed and tumultuous. Bill rolled over and groped for the ivory-colored telephone next to the bed. His hand closed over the softly rounded contours and he picked it up, pressed it to his ear, and grunted.
"Good morning, Bill. Did I get you up?" Millicent's rich voice vibrated over the phone's receiver and made its impression in Bill's mind.
"Yeah. But it's okay. I had to get up sometime. What time is it, anyway?" he asked.
"Just a little after one. When are you going to deliver that very valuable package?" she asked archly.
"If you're still at Gloria's house, I'll see you there in about an hour and a half. Okay?"
"All right. We'll expect you and Terri about eleven-thirty then," Millicent crooned.
"She won't be coming along. Something has come up, but I'll tell you all about it when I get there. Okay?"
"Well, I think you should at least tell me something. What's wrong? Can't you find her now? Is she hurt? Sick? Arrested? What's come up?"
"When I get there, goddamn it. It's nothing that you can't handle."
"Okay, I'll see you about eleven-thirty."
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye."
"Who was that?" Terri asked as she rolled over in the bed, wrapped the sheet around her full, luscious body, and looked up at Bill with her clear forthright eyes.
"No one important," he said, leaning over and planting a kiss on the end of her nose. "How do you feel this morning?"
"Very well, thank you."
"Are you hungry?"
"Yes, very."
"Okay, you stay put and rest that beautiful body of yours, and I'll hustle around here and get us some bacon and eggs and coffee. How's that for openers?" Bill asked enthusiastically as he rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. "Just let me take a quick shower first."
"Okay. I'd like to do the same thing when you're finished," Terri said.
Bill turned in the doorway, his face in a bright smile, saying, "Come on. We'll take one together. It'll save soap and water."
"Okay," she said, climbing out of bed and stretching.
Bill grabbed two fresh towels from the linen closet and laid them out in the bathroom. He turned on the water and adjusted the temperature until it was just right, then opened the shower door.
"Ladies first," he said, stepping back to allow Terri to move through the door ahead of him.
Her buttocks bounced saucily as she stepped through the door and walked under the hot spray. Bill savored the soft flare of her hips, the slimness of her waist, the fullness of her thighs, and the swelling mounds that marked her breasts. It was time to buy a little insurance, he thought, as he stepped into the shower behind her and pulled the door closed.
As the water sprayed over their bodies, giving
Bill new strength, his hands circled her waist and he hugged her closely, kissing her neck, shoulders, and back.
"You're the grooviest chick I've ever met," he said as his lips nuzzled wetly next to her ear. "I could really do a thing with you."
"You're a very nice cat," she said, picking up the soap from the tray built into the wall of the tiled shower.
"Here, let me. It's more fun that way," Bill offered, taking the soap from her hand and working up a thick lather between the palms of his hands.
He spread the thick, creamy lather over her shoulders and down her back, feeling the silky softness of her skin as his soapy hands glided over its surface. He worked smoothly and efficiently, letting the lulling heat of the needle-fine spray do its part. Bill soaped the backs of her thighs, her calves, and her heels, but paid particular attention to the full cheeks of her ass, letting his hand dip deep into the crack that so evenly divided those two twin spheres.
"You're outa sight," Bill told her, as if he were trying to sell her on the idea that she was very pretty. "After breakfast, why don't you just sort of take life easy around here while I go see the person who called. You know, sort of get used to the place. It's all yours, you can have the whole ball of wax," Bill said with the proper emphasis.
Standing up, he spun her around by the shoulders. "Now the front," he said.
The soap suds oozed down her body in little bubbling trails. Bill moved the scented bar back and forth across Terri's upper chest, just watching the soap flow down her beautiful body. He circled and lathered each of her full, firm breasts, making sure that he tweaked her nipples gently so they would pop up and make an easier target for his tongue later. Down the bar of soap traveled, dipping into the soft contours of her belly, over the flare of her hips, and into the dense foliage of her pubic hair, a wet, burnished gold.
Bill's lips were right behind the bar of soap. He had pushed Terri right against the shower wall, and she stood there, back braced against the tiles, feet spread wide and the water running down her bare and delicious skin as Bill paid tender homage to its loveliness with his lips, teeth, and tongue. He licked his way around each breast, nuzzling and lifting the swelled mounds with his nose and face. Bill sucked each nipple into his mouth in turn, laved, savored, bit, and chewed at it, until both were a rosy pink, standing straight and firm like two little pop-up muffins.
Moving downward, Bill knelt at her feet, his lips and tongue moving back and forth across her belly, dipping into her navel, his tongue darting into the dimpled depression. He slid himself furthur between her spread thighs, his tongue laving its way across her pubic hair still sweet with the taste and scent of the soap. He felt her fingers entwining themselves in his hair, pulling at his head, drawing his face closer to the center of her sex, to that spot which could give her ultimate joy. His face ground into her very center, his tongue stiff and pointed like a dagger trying to find that one spot of vulnerability.
"Eat me. Eat me good," Terri groaned, the water splashing across her face and running down her body.
Bill's tongue rummaged through the softly curling hair that covered her cunt with gold, found the narrow slit that divided her pussy lips, and penetrated. Turning his head to the side, he sent his tongue down the entire length of her groove, savoring the sweet taste of it, breathing in the rich woman smell of her flowing juices combined with the lime smell of soap.
He could feel himself getting hard as he knelt on the floor in front of her. His weapon was rising from between his legs to its full length, strong and straight as a pink pole, topped by a vermilion knob. He put his own passion aside for the time being and concentrated on bringing Terri off with his tongue. There would be a whole lifetime for satisfying his prick within the confines of her tight snatch.
Finding the opening to her sex, Bill let his tongue dive into the resilient orifice, to taste and smell the juices that flowed from that tight aperture. He felt her pussy lips fasten themselves around his tongue and milk it, trying to draw more of its length into her body.
"Oh. Lick it. Lick it hard," Terri cried, her head thrown back, her eyes clamped tightly shut.
Using his fingers, Bill pried apart the tightly closed lips of her cunt while his tongue continued to search for her clit. Finally, he felt the small nub start to rise from its hiding place and his lips fastened themselves around its base. He nibbled at the slick little mound of delicate flesh, letting his tongue pass back and forth over its tips, exciting it to a larger size.
Terri was rolling her body back and forth against the wall of the shower, oblivious of the water as it soaked her hair, making it like strings of golden spaghetti. Her hands were moving on the top of Bill's head, urging him on to greater and more thrilling activities with his trained tongue. Bill felt her legs start to quiver, her belly shake, and her breathing become labored as he worked his lips and tongue over and around her swelling clit.
Her thighs were clamped tight around his head, making it difficult for him to see or hear, but Bill could feel and he sensed that she was just about to blow her nuts. Trying to guess as accurately as possible, Bill waited for a few precious moments more, and then gently bit down on her swollen clit, tossing his head from side to side after he had her clit firmly between his teeth. He could feel the tremendous spasm shaking her entire body as she spent herself under his teeth and tongue. Racking pulsation after racking pulsation rippled along her full length, making her skin pucker in little goose bumps despite the hot water running over her body. Her breath was sucked in and held. Finally, Bill heard her let it out in great whoosh, and she loosened the grip with which her thighs held his head to its task. Her hands were shaking when they let go of his hair and she was breathing very deeply when Bill stood up to face her, her breasts rising and falling as she sucked in great draughts of air.
Bill soaped himself while she recovered. As he worked the lather in and thought about facing Millicent Martin, his stiffened hard-on subsided and finally flopped uselessly between his legs.
Getting out of the shower, he handed Terri a towel and watched as she dried herself, rubbing the nappy surface over her skin until it glowed pink and healthy.
After drying himself, Bill wrapped the towel around his middle and walked to the kitchen and started breakfast. He figured that Terri was still trying to recover from the orgasm that she had just experienced.
He complimented himself as he made fresh orange juice in the blender, started the bacon frying in the big skillet, and broke a bunch of eggs into a bowl where he whipped them up with a fork, adding a little milk. He started the water in the teapot so they could have coffee and put slices of bread in the toaster.
As he was setting the knives, forks, and spoons on top of the bar, Terri made her entrance from the bedroom, her golden hair brushed until it sparked with rich luster. She had found one of Bill's old terry cloth robes and had slipped into it. It made her look very small and defenseless, with the sleeves hanging loosely down over the ends of her fingertips. She rolled them up as she slid onto the bar stool.
"While I'm gone, you can read the paper and figure out what you'd like to do today," Bill said, smiling at her.
"When will you be back?" she asked.
"A couple of hours or so, but you can plan on spending the rest of the day with me. As a matter-of-fact, I'd like to turn it into a regular thing," he said, confident that this would be well received.
"You sure do say all the right things," she said, drinking her juice down in a couple of swallows and holding her glass out for more.
Turning the wheel of the white VW sharply, Bill steered it up the narrow street of Beverly Glen to the California ranch style home owned by Gloria Davis.
He had been running over make-believe conversations he would have with Millicent Martin and trying to figure out what her reaction would be when he gave her the news that he was playing for the whole loaf and not just some of the crumbs.
He had just gone through reaction number four when he came abreast of the house and turned the car into the driveway. He parked, got out, and walked across the porch. As he rang the bell, he remembered the last time he had been there and stepped back to answer the metallic squawk box over the door. He hope there wouldn't be any wild scenes with the weeping willow Gloria Davis; he just wasn't ready for that kind of a scene this early in the day.
Much to his surprise, the door opened with no preliminaries of identification through the metal box, and Millicent Martin was standing in the entrance way with a worried look on her face.
"Well, Bill, you certainly did stretch out that hour and a half some. Would you like to have some lunch? Gloria and I were just sitting down at the table," she said, holding the door for him until he was safely in the entrance way.
"No thanks, I just got up from breakfast myself. That's the reason that I'm late. But I will have some coffee with you, if you don't mind," he replied.
"Fine," she said, leading the way to the dining room where Gloria Davis was sitting at the long table. She averted her eyes when Millicent and Bill entered the room.
"That's enough of the dramatics, Gloria, now be civil, at least," Millicent said in a strong voice to Gloria.
The slim blonde looked at Millicent, and then turned her gaze to Bill, nodding as she did so.
"Here, Bill, sit down here, I'll get you a cup," Millicent offered. She was back in a second, carrying a large pot of coffee. She poured Bill a cup and then sat down, looking at him significantly. "Well, what's the problem?"
"No problem at all, really. Terri is at my house right now. As a matter-of-fact, she was there all night, and I plan to make that a permanent, arrangement," Bill announced.
"Well, that is surprising news. Tell me, has Terri already agreed to all of this? I mean, have you gone over the whole thing and worked it out together?" she asked.
"Yes. The important thing is that she doesn't want to change executors for her estate and she has finally broken away from your influence and she wants to keep it that way."
"Is this something you cooked up? I mean, her not wanting to testify in court to have the executors changed?"
"No, she volunteered that information. As a matter-of-fact, she said she had only agreed with you when you kept harping on the bad job they were doing so that you would keep still. She told me last night that even if she went back to live with you she would not testify in court to have the executors for the estate changed," Bill said.
"Shit!" Millicent spewed out. "The little bitch. And what other little things did my sweet niece whisper in your ear?" Millicent hissed through clenched teeth.
"She said something about you not having a hold over her anymore and that she was here in Los Angeles to try and get her head straight; to try and find out who she really is and what her true values are. That's all, just things like that," Bill said honestly.
"I see. And I suppose that you are going to be right by her side while she clears all these cobwebs out of her head and sees the light? That'll be just ducky; she sees the light and you collect the pot of gold. Well, listen, Billy boy, I'm not going to make it easy for you, you can count on that," said Millicent, staring at Bill with cold hard eyes.
"Now wait just a minute," Bill said. "There's no reason to get all jerky and nervous. What gave you the idea that you were going to be left out in the cold? You turned me on to this deal and I plan to take care of you. When she told me that she wasn't going to testify, I just did what had to be done at the time."
"And what was that, pray tell?" Millicent said sarcastically.
"I turned her on and balled her," Bill answered frankly, hoping that his bluntness would give him an opportunity to leave with some grace.
"Did she like it?" Millicent asked, looking at Gloria.
"Well, she's still a little inexperienced, but I think she dug the scene."
Millicent and Gloria again exchanged glances and then Millicent asked, "Is Terri still at your house?"
"Yeah. I told her to wait around and we'd go out later on after I got back. Why?"
"Well, I'd like to see her before I go back up North."
"I don't know about that," Bill said.
"I promise there'll be no big scenes, no lectures, no shouting, nothing. I'd just like to see her in your house. I want to make sure that she is really happy and that what you have said is true. Now, as her legal guardian, I don't think I'm asking too much. Even you must admit it is rather reasonable under the circumstances," Millicent argued.
Bill thought for a minute, weighing all the possibilities, all of the ramifications of having Terri meet with her aunt. What the hell, he thought, I've got it made, why worry? The whole bag is sewn up tight. Nothing can queer the deal now.
"Let's go," he said, standing up, leaving his untouched coffee cooling in the cup.
The brakes squeaked as he wheeled his little car into the garage and pulled to a jarring halt.
Quickly Bill jumped out of the car and ran around the other side to open the door for Millicent Martin.
"Let me go first," he said, "kind of get her ready for the fact of your being here."
"Okay. Whatever you think is best," she agreed cooperatively.
He raced to the door, fumbled with his keys for a moment, and then swung the door open, calling out her name as he did so.
"Terri!"
The name echoed back to him from all the rooms of the house. He called again, but there was still no reply. By this time, Millicent Martin was standing behind him.
"Maybe we'd better go in and see what's wrong," he suggested.
They walked through the house, each room was examined with care. The bathroom, kitchen, the bedroom, where Bill noted Terri had apparently made the bed before splitting.
They found the note in the living room, propped up against the book on Tarot and held upright by the Tarot deck.
He read the round, careful handwriting:
Dear Bill, Sorry I couldn't stay. You're really a nice cat, but I don't dig the scene. Thank you for straightening out my head about a couple of things though. You were really a big help.
Regards, Tern
When he looked up from the short note, Millicent was reading it over his shoulder. "Well," Bill said.
"It makes sense," Millicent commented, looking intently at the note.
"Maybe to you it makes sense, but to me it doesn't figure."
"Listen, Bill, remember I told you that I could make Terri do what I wanted that I could control her if only I could see her?"
"Yeah. She said something like that too."
"Right. Do you know what that control was, Bill?" she said, not giving him time to answer, but going right on, "it was sex. Pure sex. I turned her on when she was fourteen. When she told you that she was coming down here to get her head straight about a few things, she was talking about having sex with boys. You took her to bed and made love to her and she ran out on you. Do you know why, Bill? Because she's out there right now, trying to find a little nelly chick just like herself. That's right, she's as queer as a three dollar bill. That was the control I had over her I could swing from both sides of the fence and I used it to turn her on."
"Well, I'll be damned," Bill said, sitting down on the couch and holding his head in his hands.
"It's not the end of the world," Millicent soothed, sitting down beside him and placing her hand on his thigh. "After all, we still have the rest of the afternoon."
