Angela, Janette, Glenna and Maggie are four wealthy women with voracious appetites ... for power and sex.
They each use their sensual assets to gain control of the business and its virile top man, Lonnie Wolfe.
Watch what happens as each girl overplays her hand until the sly Lonnie grabs the title of Chairman of the Board ... and gains a very dominant control on the collective sex stock.
So much for Women's Lib.
ONE
When he graduated from his tiny, isolated college stuck way out on the western plains of Kansas, Lonnie Wolfe was both thrilled and exasperated by being named Most Likely To Succeed.
"Why me?" the raw-boned, leaned-framed youth asked Maggie Winters, the girl he was to leave behind, as they nestled in her bed after the graduation exercises. "What have I been successful at? Fair grades. Through brown-nosing mostly. No special talents. Name one success of mine."
"Well, it seems to me," drawled Maggie, pulling back the covers and fondling Lonnie's cock as only a playmate can, "that you've been mighty successful at winning the Most Likely To Succeed Award."
Lonnie, now in his thirty-third year, toyed with the ice in his Scotch in Angela Procter's Central Park West apartment. He was bushed and not at all in the mood for the seduction scene Angela was staging.
A petite blonde lady, Angela wore nothing but a whisper of blue chiffon as she pulled at the knot in Lonnie's tie. She had one other quality common to all the women Lonnie had spent time with since leaving Kansas-she was rich.
"I had just about given up on you," she purred, pulling the tie off and throwing it to one side.
"Busy day. The oil shortage has thrown production back two weeks and the customers are screaming."
"That's all Henry can talk about these days," Angela said, referring to Henry Drummond, Lonnie's boss.
"Has he mentioned me?" Lonnie asked, prying.
"No. Not lately. I told you I'd tell you if he said anything about you. Tell me, how can you make clear plastic out of black oil?"
"Crude oil must be processed many times before the chemical derivatives necessary for the production of plastic can be extracted. Then we add-" He stopped himself because one look into Angela's big blue eyes told him she wasn't understanding a word he was saying.
"Yes, go on," she said, unbuttoning the last button on his shirt and teasing the hair on his chest. "It's magic."
"Like my kiss," she said, softly tasting his lips.
"Like your kiss," he said. "And your pussy," he added, sliding his hand between her silky thighs, which opened to his touch invitingly. Her cunt was wet and hot against his palm, and she whimpered when he entered her with his finger. She undid his belt and zipper with haste and whimpered again as she took his cock into her mouth and brought it to life.
"I know my aggression keeps you from coming to see me for long periods of time, my love, but I can't help it. I say I'm going to be cool and let you relax and just be with you without sex if that's the way things happen, but it never seems to work out that way. As soon as I get within your force field, I have to have your mouth on mine and your cock inside my cunt. Is it all right?"
"Shut up and suck," he told her, alleviating the coldness of the command with his smile.
And suck she did, taking him fully into her throat and covering his fat shaft and balls with wet, wanton kisses when forced to come off him for air.
Lonnie stretched out on the long white sofa and found her clit with his tongue as he continued to finger-fuck her. He placed his free hand on her abdomen and gently tugged at the skin over her mound, pulling back and somewhat to the sides, in the northeast and northwest directions, opening the lips of her pussy, allowing her clit to flip free from its hood. There was no psychological restraint coming from Angela. Her rheostat was on the fully open position in the touch-me-eat-me-do-me-fuck-me-please-me departments, and her clit jumped away from its protection like the cock of a flasher on the Eighth Avenue subway.
Lonnie observed the phenomenon from his vantage point less than three inches away. Angela's clitoris seemed to be dancing in the flickering light of the four candles stationed around the large room. It was strutting tall and proud, defying danger with the balls of a mongoose teasing a cobra.
Just look at that thing, was the command that flashed inside Lonnie's brain. Go ahead, look at it! You've seen it-you've glanced at it, but you've never really looked at it before. That tiny bit of skin and muscle or cartilage, or whatever the hell it is-See there, you don't even know what it is, for crissake. Well, I know it's tissue. And I know it's erectile. Like a cock. It's a toy cock. It's composed of the same erectile tissue as a cock. You sure? No, I'm not sure, but what the fuck difference does it make?! What gets me is the importance that little bitty devil plays in the degree of sensation that is allowed or not allowed to flow into her. Whether a trickle or hurricane of excitement is allowed in depends on whether it hides or dances in the open like this. Ah, there's the rub. Dance little clit. Do the Funky Broadway for all I care. But just remember that for every vulnerable Goldilocks like you, there's a gobbling big bad wolf like me cruising the neighborhood. You may be sucking my cock up there Angela, but it's softer than you think. It's not asking for trouble the way your clit is down on this end.
Suddenly Lonnie's cock became as hard as a landlord two weeks after the rent is due. On rare occasions he had allowed women to suck him off before, but he had never wanted it the way he suddenly found himself wanting Angela to drain him of the volcanic roar he felt sounding in his balls. His mind tried to sort out the alternatives, but there wasn't enough time. The circuits became overloaded. Systems shorted out. Fuses blew. An imaginary slip of paper stuttered out of an imaginary slot in the computer of his brain. On it were stamped the words: NO FUCKING WAY! PULL OUT! PULL OUT!
The muscles of Lonnie's stomach and thighs became tense as he tried to back out of Angela's mouth, but she took this as a symptom of his oncoming orgasm and plied her course with more action.
Realizing he was unable to defend himself, Lonnie turned to his offense and attacked her clit with the blitzkrieg gusto of a batallion of stormtroopers. He flooded her clit with hot saliva, then sucked it between his lips and delivered enough gentle bites to make her feel that he had plugged it into an electric outlet
"Ooohbhhhhhhhh shiiiiiiit!" she screamed, coming off his cock against her will and bucking against his chin so hard it almost knocked him out. He was seeing stars, but he held his position tenaciously.
"Noooooooo! No more pleeeeeeease! Oh, fuck! Lonnie, stop! Lonnie, I'm not coming! I'VE ALREADY COME, COCKSUCKER!"
Lonnie reversed his position in a flash and rammed his cock into the bubbling, snapping orifice before him, plunging it into the depths of her in one forceful thrust.
"Lonnie, gentle Lonnie, what are you doing?" was her wide-eyed question.
"I'm raping you, you worthless cunt! That's all you're good for. You're nothing but a vessel to be filled to the brim with the rapist lust within me!"
"Rape on, rape on, but please don't stop fucking me! Oh yes, my love! Harder! Deeper! It's not my fault, Lord! Can't you see he's raping me? Do it, do it, do it, DOIT!"
Since his cock had left Angela's mouth, it had been fading fast and even this rape number couldn't bring it back, but Maggie Winters' teenage pussy opened, pouring forth its juices before his mind's eye, and Lonnie's cock exploded inside Angela like a charge of dynamite.
"ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" was their mutual response, followed by shudders, sweat, more whimpering, near-death rigors, and finally-peace and total quiet, except for the on-and off-beat poundings of their hearts.
They lay there, Lonnie still inside her, exhausted and only a blink away from sleep for almost twenty minutes before Angela broke the silence. "Where did he come from?"
It took a great effort for Lonnie to pull himself out and away from her. "No sermons please. That's the last of it."
"The last of what?"
"I'll never force myself on you again."
"Well, fuck you, I happened to have enjoyed it!"
"You did?"
"Immensely."
"Well, no matter, we've had it, Angela. What I'm about to say may hurt you deeply this moment, but in the long run it will be better that I had said it I don't love you, Angela. I never have. I couldn't because our whole relationship has been based on a lie. You're the mistress of H.J. Drummond, one of the richest, most powerful men in the world, and not incidentally, my employer. Now, you're beautiful, well-educated, well-bred, and fantastic in bed; but none of those are the reason that first attracted me to you. I'm interested in you because you are my boss's mistress. And don't think about telling Henry about it, because I'll deny the whole thing and I can lie better than you."
"So what?"
"So what? I've been fucking information out of you like a goddam spy. Doesn't that bother you?"
"Not particularly. You turn me on. I couldn't be less interested in the hows and whys of it."
"No, no, you don't understand. Look, I've lied to you. I don't love you. I don't love you because I don't respect you and I don't respect you because I don't respect myself. I don't respect myself for telling the lie and I don't respect you for believing it. Now, I'm going to get up and put my clothes on and walk out that door. For good."
"Save your respect for your mother, country boy, I don't need it. You're free to come and go as you please. I don't fuck with your life outside these rooms. I don't call you. I don't plead with you to expand our relationship. If you hung around all the time, I'd get tired of you. Frankly, I was starting to get a little bored with you anyway until this evening when you put a little starch in your act. Fuck respect, I think you're a chicken-shit if you don't drop by once in awhile and rape me."
"You mean you still want to see me after this heavy confession rap?"
"Didn't move me one way or the other."
"And you'll still tell me what you can dig out of Henry?"
"Why not? He doesn't own me, either. I've got my own bread, remember?"
Lonnie pulled Angela close to him and kissed her. "Oh, Angela, I love you!"
They kissed again and fucked until dawn.
It was an important lunch, served with French service in the private diining room of the Drummond Building in Rockefeller Center. Henry Drummond used this room to house the bulk of his priceless art collection. Two or three times a year the room was used for dining purposes when the nature of the business to be transacted required the tight security precautions which were constantly in force in and about this mini-museum of art. Housed in this manner the collection could be written off as a business expense.
White-gloved waiters moved about silently placing fine bone china and magnificent silver. The hand-tooled wine goblets were refilled without distraction after almost every sip. Cigarettes were lit before the guests had a chance to think about it. This well-oiled serving machine worked flawlessly from soup to after-dessert coffee under the amazed scrutiny of security guards positioned in soundproof stations behind one-way glass.
Henry Jarvis Dummond, a huge man in his sixties, had the dominant position at the table flanked by his wife Janette, a striking brunette whose doll-like features belied the scope of her inner strength, and Jay Forrest, lean and fiftyish, president of Hallmark Plastics, Drummond Industries' number one competitor.
Bruce Taylor, another plastics manufacturer, considered third in the field behind Hallmark and his host of that day, sat next to Jay across the table from Lonnie, who was well-anchored in his position as right-hand man and trouble shooter for Henry. Lonnie's official title at Drummond was Vice President in charge of Public Relations.
Bruce watched Lonnie closely and saw a man far removed from the situation as he rolled an unlit cigar in his mouth, eyes vacant, looking into space, totally oblivious to the lovely personage of Janette less than six inches away from his right elbow, though only five minutes earlier he had been engrossed in conversation with her. But then, Bruce also knew that Janette was a plant to keep the men from discussing business during lunch. Soon Henry would give a subtle signal and Janette would excuse herself. Perhaps Lonnie was merely preparing himself for that transition. Bruce watched everyone with great care for he knew he was the third man on the totem pole. Whatever decisions were reached that day, he knew his company would have to give the most and would realize the least amount of gain. That was a fact of life. His job was to make the inequity as equitable as possible.
Janette felt powerful and the power surging through her made her even more beautiful than when the lunch began. She had been furious at Lonnie for weeks for not getting in touch with her, but she was now having her revenge. Her musk oil had sufficiently loosened Lonnie's senses a few minutes after the group had gathered. Then she had brought fresh blood rushing to his face by gently rubbing the inside of his thigh under the rich gold-brocade tablecloth. Now, as she innocently sipped her coffee with one hand, she stroked Lonnie's fully erect cock with the other, and the color had drained from his face as quickly as it had come into it. She had used a glob of heat-producing salve, the tube from which it came being safely tucked away in the purse at her feet, and it was working.
What the fuck is this cunt trying to pull off here? And why? were the two questions racing through Lonnie's mind. I'll just reach in here very casually and slip her hand off. Uh oh, not so easy. She's holding me like a Chinese puzzle. Hey, that hurts! And the heat is unbearable!
"Pass the cream, please," Jeanette said to Lonnie. "Sure, Mrs. Drummond," he said, reaching the silver creamer with his exposed hand. She's got that look of determination she had in her eyes before the first time we fucked on Fire Island. But what's her problem? I haven't seen her for a while, but that should hardly warrant this kind of treatment. What else could it be? Oh, yeah, Glenna. Mothers rarely approve of their lovers fooling around with their daughters. Think, man, what did you actually do to Glenna? Nothing really. A few innocent kisses in the back of the limousine on the way to Kennedy. Maybe Charles told her and got off by blowing the thing way out of proportion. Not hardly. Charles is a little weird, but like all chauffeurs he's into his own head and couldn't care less about what happens in the back of the car. Unless he's fucking Glenna. Then again Glenna might have told her. Naw, Janette would have confronted me with it. Come to think of it, that might be exactly what she's doing right now. This has got to stop. If I can just pry her thumb off the head of it, I can ... oh, shit! You gorgeous cunt, I knew you'd find that spot! Better withdraw. One false move and she'll simply scream and throw back the tablecloth for all to see. I don't think even I could talk my way out of that one.
"Lon, tell Bruce and Jay here about the girl who approached you on Condado Beach last week," Henry said. "Lon? Lon, are you with us?"
"What? Oh, excuse me, sir, my mind was drifting. Marvelous lunch. The veal was superb."
"I wasn't talking about the food, Lon."
"Really ... uh, again I ask your indulgence."
"Tell them about the girl in San Juan."
Now that his hand was gone, Janette had the full length of Lonnie's cock to play with, and she fingered his rigid rod with the flair of a virtuoso flutist. "San Juan? When were we in San Juan, sir?"
"We weren't in San Juan," Drummond said, unable to keep the pique out of his voice. "You were in San Juan. Last week. Remember?"
"Of course, I remember. I was there only last week."
"So tell them."
"About what?"
"About the girl on the beach, for chrissake!"
"Oh, that. Sure, sure. Well, gentlemen, I ... uh, I was sunning myself on Condado Beach ... uh, and this very attractive young lady in the slightest of bikinis leaned over me and said ... uh, sir, I'm wondering if this story should be told in Mrs. Drummond's presence. It is a bit indelicate."
"Then make it delicate, my silver-tongued friend." Everyone heard the displeasure in Henry's tone and became edgy because of it, except Janette who was having the time of her life. She increased the tempo of her stroke on Lon's burning dick, intent of bringing him to orgasm.
"Anyway, this lady said, 'Senor, senor, I can make you very happy. Only twenty dollars. I weel make love with you and give French love to you and my tongue weel do anything you demand of it.' And I took her hand in mine and said, 'How much for a heavy kiss?' "
Lonnie was so proud of himself for having gotten through the second part of the story without stammering, he relaxed while the others laughed. This was his fatal mistake. Janette rotated his cock on its axis in a wide orbit and stimulated the head with all her energies.
Caught in mid-orgasm, Lonnie tried to empty his head of all thought. He quickly turned his head toward the window, but his eyes froze on one of Rubens' voluptuous nudes, and his cock exploded. He grabbed a napkin to muffle the sound trying to escape his lips while something akin to death rigors wracked his body.
"Why, Lonnie, you're perspiring," Janette said, her statement dripping with sweetness. "Are you sick?"
"No, no, I'll be fine, just fine, thank you. The duck was a little too spicy for me, I'm afraid."
Janette was quickly on her feet tugging at Lonnie's arm. "Come. Walk me to my car. The air will do wonders for you."
"Uh, thanks, Mrs. Drummond, but no thanks," he said, matching her sweetness. "It'll pass. It'll pass. Must you be going so soon?"
"Yes, I've loads of shopping to do for Glenna's birthday. You are coming to the party, aren't you?" Oh, Lonnie, I wish you could see the shit-eating grin on your face!
"I'm not sure. What night is it?"
"Friday. Day after tomorrow. She'll be brokenhearted if you don't come."
So that's it! you did find out about the little session with Glenna. What's the matter, Mommy? Jealous because your kid's tits are bigger than yours? "I'll be there. With bells on."
"Fine. Good day, gentlemen. Have a pleasant meeting and thank you for having me, dear." Janette hugged her husband and gave him a wifely kiss on his bulldog cheek.
"Our pleasure," Jay said, he and Bruce rising in unison. Everyone expected Lonnie to do the same, but he mopped his brow with his napkin and hung his head in his hands like a dying man.
"Have a good day, Janette," Henry said, "but take it easy on the expenses. These are troubled times. Nothing is too good for our daughter's birthday, but unfortunately Mr. Nixon doesn't know that."
"I shall be the personification of frugality," she said, letting herself out.
While everyone's attention was focused on Janette's exodus, Lonnie managed to rezip his pants. One quick glance under the tablecloth verified his fear that come and black silk do not blend. How was he going to get out of the room? The old leave-the-napkin-in-the-belt trick wouldn't work because the damning evidence had been deposited on his knee. He needed a plate of soup to dump in his lap, but the caterers were gone.
"Jay, Bruce, it's always good to see you again, even under these trying circumstances," Henry said in a tone grave enough to announce the passing of a close friend. "Ever since you two left the fold, there's been a deep sadness here at Drummond. But as sure as there's a God, I believe we will all be working under the same roof again, and maybe this stupid oil crisis will be just the catalyst to get us back on the same team."
"I feel that we are still together, H.J.," Jay said. "Our three companies produce eighty per cent of the raw plastics in the world, and we've never had any serious rifts among us. Look at the others-unfair advertising practices, undercutting, backbiting-in some cases, total war. Not us."
Only because Poppa Bear Drummond gets the lion's share of everything, Bruce thought, wishing he had the courage to say it aloud. Big happy family, my ass!
Don't you remember how we fought when we were together?
"That's true, Jay, but it doesn't seem right somehow for us not to be in the same corporate structure," Henry said. "What do you think, Bruce?"
I think you'd kill to add another dollar to the holdings you control. "A merger is always possible, H.J., but we have more pressing matters at hand. Our oil suppliers have a gun to our head. Costs have tripled in the last six months, and we can't compete in the world market unless we find other sources."
"What do you gentlemen have for me this afternoon?" With that statement by Henry, the business meeting was officially opened.
"The Arabs have several million gallons of crude oil stored in New Jersey. We'll need your friends in Congress to get permission to negotiate with them. It'll take time, but I think we can get the oil at a good price."
"Time is the one thing we haven't got enough of," Henry said sternly, banging the table with his burly fist. "I've been taking a bath for six months, absorbing the cost difference just to keep the doors open, and if I don't get out of the tub within the next few months, I'm going to drown! I need oil! Where am I going to get it right now?!"
"Bruce has a lead that could tide us over until the Arab deal goes through,"
"So tell me already!" was Henry's not too friendly demand.
"Remember Buck Short?" Bruce asked. "Sure," Henry said. "Buck was an old buddy of mine. We used to hunt wild boar in Mexico. A tiger put his lights out a couple of years ago in India. What about him?"
"His estate was just released by the courts and his widow has control of Short Petroleum Company."
"Have you approached her?" Henry wanted to know.
"Yes, and she turned me down. She said she was going to supply you."
"Bullshit! I never laid eyes on the woman. Bucky and I had some fine times together, but she always stayed in Dallas."
Bruce turned to Lonnie, who was deeply engrossed in his own problem. "She said she made the deal with you, Lonnie."
"That's not true. I've never met her," Lonnie said. Henry glared at him. "No shit, I never met Buck Short or his wife. What the hell are you guys trying to do to me?"
"It would be better put the other way around," Bruce said. "What the hell are you trying to do to us, Henry?"
"Don't you talk to me in that tone of voice! And don't you call me Henry! You were nothing but a green, snot-nosed kid when I pulled you out of that jerkwater college in Florida and gave you some responsibility. I made a man out of you and don't you forget it! Though times like this make me think you're still wet behind the ears."
"Maybe, but I'm not blind, and I don't like what I see."
"I repeat, I do not know this woman. Now are you calling me a liar?"
"No," Bruce said between pauses.
"Well, that's better," Henry said. "Now that we have a little order established at this table, maybe we can-"
"I am," Jay said. "I think you're lying through your hat. The three of us agreed to get the oil together and share it, and I think you're trying to grab it all for yourself. I also think this lunch and your false sincerity are just window dressing."
"Why, you ungrateful cocksucker," Henry said, slowly spitting out the words. "After all I've done for you."
"Save it for someone who's interested, fat man!" Jay was really getting hot. "When we got together, we were supposed to be partners. But you kept forgetting that. I was as responsible for putting Drummond Industries on the map as you were. Now I've got my back to the wall. I've got everything I own tied up in Hallmark and I'm not going down the tube without a fight. I want that oil, Henry. And I'm not kidding."
"Jay, the lady did say it was Lonnie she dealt with," Brace said, his role of peacemaker being brought out in the heavy tension that was rising between the two men.
"Lonnie doesn't pee without asking Henry's permission. Nothing personal, Lonnie. You're a very bright and charming young man. You have a sharp head for business and are a lot of fun to be around, but your insecurities make me nervous. In short, I wouldn't trust you any further than I could throw the Brooklyn Bridge. You made the deal for Henry, didn't you?"
"I'm still back on Who's That Lady I Saw You With Last Night. I've asked a hundred people for oil leads over the last couple of months. I could have talked to this Short woman at a party, but I assure you gentle men that nothing firm has come from my search. No agreements. No papers signed."
"So I'm fat, eh?" Henry asked Jay. "I'm just fat enough to pick you up and toss your butt out that window over there."
Jay was quickly to his feet and into a wrestler's pose. "Okay, big shot, do it!"
"You son of a bitch!" Henry shouted as he came out of his chair with his head low and butted Jay in the midsection.
Jay flew back into a wall, the impact knocking loose a Lautrec which crushed down on his head.
"Touch my paintings, will you?!" Henry screamed, falling on top of Jay like a hailstorm, all 280 pounds of him.
Bruce was quickly in the middle of things, looking very much like a referee. Without a word, Lonnie left, holding his coat in front of him.
"What should I do?" the guard at the door whispered as Lonnie passed.
"Nothing. Just watch. When it's over, tell Mr. Drummond he was terrific, no matter whether he seems to have won or not. And don't worry. They've been at each other's throats like this for twenty-five years."
TWO
Glenna Drummond woke up tired on Friday morning. Sometime during the night she had become twenty-one years old, a milestone she had hurriedly chased all her life. She had tossed and tumbled through six sexual fantasies during the night. At least, she could remember six, four of which involved Lonnie Wolfe. The other two were replays of her only two real life experiences, the first with a skinny lad of seventeen who fucked her in a stable in the Hamptons on the New Year's Eve preceding her high school graduation. That is, he claimed he had fucked her when they woke up in the hayloft the following day. Glenna had been so drunk she had to rely on his account of the incident. She had remembered his cock being long and very thin, a condition which had made her laugh.
Going to the other extreme, she balled a black football player from Michigan State in a Pocono resort the summer of her sophomore year at Bryn Mawr. He was working there as a life guard, and they fucked in his two-by-four quarters, a situation comparable to fucking Wilt Chamberlain in a telephone booth. He had certainly exceeded expectations in the penile size department, but his inexperienced pounding of her bones left her haggard and feeling like the body bag in a heavyweight boxer's training camp.
Lonnie was different, She had been in love with him since their first meeting on her father's yacht when she was fourteen. Twice that day he had accidentally (hopefully on purpose) brushed against Glenna's tits. Her nipples jumped to erection at his electric touch both times. Glenna had always felt that her tits were much too large for her body. They were always getting in the way, especially when she wanted them to.
In the wee small hours of one morning, she had watched her mother sucking Lonnie's cock at poolside from her bedroom window. Henry was out of town and they thought she was asleep. At first she was fascinated by the experience of seeing Lonnie's hard, lean body in the moonlight and his hard, fat cock halfway into her mother's mouth.
Ten minutes later the shock of trauma bolted her out of the hypnotic state and she wanted to race outside naked and drown her mother in the pool. How could she do this to me? was the question in her mind at the time. That bitch is so set on getting everything she wants exactly when she wants it that poor Lonnie obviously didn't have anything to say in the matter. She probably made him do it at the risk of losing his job.
For a week after she returned to college, Glenna studied untraceable poisons to give ole Janette an early send-off, until the insanity of such behavior hit her and she gave it up.
Any doubt that Lonnie preferred her to her mother was removed the time she and Lonnie fooled around in the limousine on the way to the airport. This time he had fondled her tits definitely on purpose. He had reached right inside her blouse and played with them. That, in addition to his kiss, had put her in a loving state she had never experienced before. Charlie was stoned out of his mind at the time and hadn't noticed anything.
Glenna pulled herself from her bed, stretched and yawned, then walked to the shower.
Poor Charlie, she thought, loving the way the hot jets of water brought her half-sleeping body back to life. He's such a child at twenty-five. I was so turned on, I wanted to ball him when we got back to the house that day, and the poor motherfucker never picked up on it. Lonnie's kisses had left me so hot and bothered my pussy throbbed in contractions that forced the pussy juice through my panties and down my legs, almost to the knees. Poor fucker, I really wanted him. I invited him up to my room for a joint when we got back, and he said, "Thanks, but I've got to wash the car." Here I was willing to open my flowing cunt for him and fuck his brains out, and he had to wash the fucking car.
Now he says he loves me. Well screw him. He had his chance and blew it. The poor bastard'll never amount to anything. I wouldn't even let him smell my soiled panties if he got on his knees and begged me.
Without realizing it Glenna finger-fucked herself as she reminisced under the steaming shower. Squeezing her tits between her bcieps, she managed to turn them up high enough so that she could lick and suck both her nipples at the same time while her fingers massaged her clit and plumbed the depths of her throbbing cunt.
At that moment, Janette walked into her daughter's spacious bathroom and promptly plopped down on the pink fur-covered stool by the dressing table as though someone had struck her from behind with a blackjack. Most of the steam rose free from the elegant glass-enclosed stall shower, and Janette could make out very clearly exactly what her daughter was doing; but Glenna, with eyes closed tight as she licked her knot-hard nipples, had no idea that her mother was in the room.
"Ohhhhhhhhh yes, Lonnie, yes," Glenna murmured, "suck them, bite them. My tits have ached for your mouth all these years. I'm a woman now, my sweet darling, so suck my tits and fuck me as your peer, not a little girl. Fuck me harder, harder, HARDER! Yes, yes, yes, I'm coming, my sweet love; I'M COMMMING! NOOOOOOOOOW!"
Janette's mouth hung wide open as she watched her daughter's autoerotic display. She was both shocked and fascinated at the same time, much the same way Glenna had felt watching her mother sucking Lonnie's cock that night at the pool. She wanted to slip out the door before Glenna saw her, but discovered that her legs were not taking commands from her brain.
She remained frozen in that position until Glenna had soaped herself, rinsed and stepped from the shower.
"Happy birthday, Glenna," Janette said, sounding much like a recording.
"Oh, hi," Glenna said, not bothering to cover her nakedness as she toweled herself dry. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"Not long. Well, uh ... not a ... terribly short time, either."
"Did you watch me get off?"
"Don't talk that way."
"You mean you approve of me doing it, but not talking about it?" Glenna asked. Her enjoyment of having her mother's rapt attention for one of the first times in her life far outweighed her embarrassment, which manifested itself in a blush that spread over most of her body.
"No."
"Then you disapprove."
"No. I mean, I don't know. How can I either approve or disapprove of something I never knew anybody ever did? How do you do that?"
"Really, mother, don't tell me you never played with yourself."
"Not that. How do you get your mouth to your breast?"
"You mean like this?" Glenna answered, bringing her left tit to her mouth with both hands. As she Licked her nipple and sucked it between her lips, she never took her eyes off Janette, who was as spellbound as a child watching a magician for the first time. Then Glenna lapped at her other breast with slow, rhythmic, sensual lashes of her tongue. She was enjoying her brazen display of exhibitionism no end.
"Doesn't that hurt?" Janette asked, still filled with wonder.
'Oh, nooooooo. It feels goooooooood. My brain tells my tongue exactly what my body wants. You really should try it sometime."
"I can't do that."
"Sure you can. Not as easily as I can maybe, but you can do it. You'll just have to try harder."
"I can't believe you said that, Glenna," Janette said, coming back to reality. "What's come over you?"
"My twenty-first birthday. I'm not the same person that went to sleep in my bed last night. This morning I decided to claim my womanhood. I hope my emerging personality doesn't bother you, but if it does, it really isn't my problem."
"I hope you don't expose your father to this ... new personality. It would upset him tremendously."
"I don't care. I'm not dependent on you two anymore. We'll have to find out if we can be friends without hiding behind our roles. It might be fun."
"You're still dependent on us for money."
"Not as of this morning. I'm not. Remember all that Drummond stock Daddy put in trust for me because the minority stockholders wouldn't let him keep it in his name? As of today the income from that stock will come directly to me. I know I can't sell it, but the dividends amount to over twenty thousand dollars a year so I don't think I'll have to beg you and Daddy for my allowance any longer."
"Twenty thousand dollars! Why, that's more than I get!"
"I know," Glenna said softly. "Isn't it ironic?"
"No, no, that's not possible. Henry told you, you could have it?"
"No, but my lawyer said I could have it. It's all perfectly legal."
"Well you can just forget about it. Henry will never stand for it."
"So fuck him."
"GLENNA! Stop talking like that!"
"And if you don't like the way I talk," Glenna said, still very calmly, "fuck you."
"I don't think I like this new you very much. You've always been such a sweet child. Now you've seemed to have turned into a ... a ... vicious bitch!"
"Not fair. Bitch, maybe, but then you've been such a wonderful teacher for me in that department. Vicious, no. I'm not uptight. I'm not screaming demands. I'm simply stating facts. I've waited all my life for this day to come."
"But your father has always been so generous to you. You can't-"
"Bullshit. You know how anal retentive he is."
"What does that mean?"
"He takes everything in and gives nothing back."
"That's not true!"
"I know you don't see it, because you emulate him in that way. Daddy owns everything: this estate, the one in Florida, the one in Palm Springs, the boats, the cars, the airplanes, you, and until today, me. You've thought you've owned all these things jointly with him, because that's what he wants you to think; and I know I don't own a goddam thing except the earning power of a thousand shares of one of the most valuable stocks in the world, but I do own that and no one can take it from me. It's my reality, my passport to freedom."
"For your information, young lady, your father doesn't own me," Janette lashed back with arrogance.
"Oh, doesn't he? Let's look at the facts. He knocked you up with me when you were nineteen so he could get his hands on the stock your father had given you, the same stock that provided the starting capital for Drummond Industries. Sure Jay threw in a like amount and Bruce came along a few years later to give the company another financial boost when it was floundering, but your money started it. Where is your stock now, Mother? What do you have in your portfolio?"
"Nothing, but Henry's returned to me many times the value of that stock over the years."
"Do you know that, left untouched, your stock would have been worth over a million dollars by now."
"That's not true!"
"Isn't it? I checked. Pick up the phone. Call Merrill Lynch. They've got a book that will tell you the answer in five minutes."
"You're crazy! If what you say is true, Henry would have mentioned it. I don't keep up with those things. And frankly, your ingratitude is insufferable. Your father and I have given you everything, and now you're acting like the spoiled brat which, I suppose, we are guilty of creating."
"You've given me everything you've wanted me to have. I've never gotten the things I've wanted. You dress me like a fashion plate, something I've neither the head nor figure for. You sent me to the college of your choice. Daddy screens all my friends, and that little wrinkle that invariably appears between his eyes has spelled the kiss of death for them all. I'm being kept prisoner here. Until today. And I've kept it all bottled up inside me. Until today."
Glenna threw the towel on the floor and gave her mother a hug. "I do appreciate what you've tried to do for me, but please understand that you've only done it for yourself so you might be able to vicariously experience some of the things you lost by allowing Daddy to knock you up."
"I must go. The caterers are here. Can't you accept that I'm giving this party for you?"
"Mother, I don't want it. You've invited your friends. Daddy would have invited his, but he doesn't have any. Every pimple-faced, limp-wristed momma's boy in Long Island will be here trying to carry out their instructions of trying to make a match for me. I'm what is known in the leisure class as a trophy catch. Do you know how much fun that is for me? It's like being courted by a tidal wave of mayonnaise."
"I've asked Lonnie to come in your behalf."
"That was very selfless of you, Mother."
"Are you and Lonnie ... well, are you...?"
"Am I fucking him?"
"Yes. Are you fucking him?"
"No. Are you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I simply heard you mention his name while you were-getting off, I think the expression is-a while ago in the shower."
"I'm very interested in Lonnie, but I haven't scored yet."
"Don't. Lonnie Wolfe is exactly what his name indicates. He's a wonderful friend to us all; but like your father, he won't marry until quite late in life. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Neither do I."
Janette kissed her daughter on the cheek. "I hope we can talk again on these issues at another time, really I do. But as for today, have a beautiful birthday."
Glenna was genuinely touched by her mother's affection. "Thank you," was the only reaction she could manage.
Three hundred people showed up for the party, fifty of whom were assorted singles under thirty selected by Janette for their social standing and their willingness to conform to their parents' standards. A jazz combo was hired to play for the grownups at the pool, while a rock group featuring a Diana Ross-type singer entertained the "children" in the recreation room in the east wing. The group called themselves The Devils And Miss Jones.
Glenna politely accepted the presents and congratulations of these people whom she viewed as nothing more than animated furniture for the party. Five of the young men asked her for dates, all of which she patiently declined on the grounds that they were following their parents' orders. She moved about her party like an invisible guest with a mask-like smile painted across her face.
Lonnie tapped her on the shoulder around 10:30 and her mask slipped away, revealing a very smitten young woman with a definite plan in mind.
"Happy birthday, angel," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. She moved her head into the path of the kiss and received him full on the mouth and tried to push her tongue past his closed teeth.
"Now stop that," he scolded her with a laugh, looking quickly around the recreation room to be sure no one was watching. "I have something for you," he said, removing a small box from his white dinner jacket pocket.
"And I have something for you," she said, sliding her arms around his neck, only to find him slip out of her grasp like a mustang unwilling to be lassoed.
"Hey, now, be nice."
"I am nice. And you're blushing."
"I always blush when I sense I'm about to lose my life."
"No one can harm you here, my love. I'll kill the first person to lay a hand on you."
"That's comforting. Where's your mother? I slipped in the back door."
"She was at the pool the last time I saw her," Glenna said, a little hurt. "You know the way."
"That's just it, I don't want to see her just now. Not until I've had a moment with you." The pout left Glenna's face as quickly as it had come. "Here." Lonnie handed her the box.
"Thank you, it's lovely."
"Why don't you open it?"
She did. It was a simple gold bracelet from Tiffany's. "Oh, Lonnie, it is lovely. I'll never take it off."
"Look, I've got to talk to you. Is there somewhere we can be alone?"
"Uh huh, as a matter-of-fact there is."
She got up and led Lonnie up the long corridor which led to the servants quarters. Checking to make sure no one saw them, she took him into a room stacked high with boxes and suitcases.
"Isn't there a light in here?" Lonnie asked when she closed the door behind them.
"Come with me." She guided him through a labyrinth she had made of the boxes until they circled to an open area in the room. She lit a candle, which revealed a mattress on the floor covered with red silk sheets. She motioned for him to sit, as she did, but he chose to stand.
"What have we here?"
"This is my secret place, Lonnie. I want to share all my secret places with you." She patted the sheet next to her. "Come down to my level and play with me."
"Glenna, this is no good. The reason I wanted to get you alone is to ask you if you told your mother about our little session that day in the back of the car. She's very upset with me over something and I wondered if that may be it."
"No," she said, reaching behind her to loosen the fasteners on her formal gown, "she doesn't know. What difference could it make?"
"Glenna, sweet child that you are," he said leaning over her and rehooking the eyes on her dress as quickly as she undid them, "did it ever occur to you that I work for your father? Remember him? A rather large man with tons of power and less than an ounce of humor?"
As he spoke Glenna experienced a rush that brought an excessive amount of blood to her face. He stood over her, facing her, reaching over her head to fasten her dress. His forehead was pressed lightly against his abdomen and the bulk of his soft cock grazed her cheek. Enough energy to blow her mind passed through his trousers. She instinctively reached behind him to caress the curves of'his buttocks with her fingers, to draw him firmly against her face. She wanted to unzip his fly and kiss his balls and suck the nectar from the heavenly dick she knew lurked behind a thin fold of fabric only a fraction of an inch away from her trembling lips. She wanted to do these things, but couldn't, yet found great satisfaction in just being that close to his source of power.
"Are you afraid Daddy will get angry if he should find out and fire you?" she said, amazed that she could still speak.
"No, Henry's too good a businessman for that. I make him money and he'd never fire me."
"Then what's the problem?" she asked, speaking to the area of his cock as though it were his face. , "Instead, he would calmly remove one of those huge elephant guns from the wall of his trophy room and blow my head right off my body. I wouldn't like that It would ruin my whole day."
Having finished his hooking job, he stood erect and tried to back away from her, but she touched the sensitive undersides of his buttocks with her nails and kissed the head of his cock, sending a furnace blast of hot breath through his pants as she did. In the split second it took him to break her grasp, his cock doubled in size.
"Hey, I've got to get back to the party," he said, jumping back a foot.
She didn't pursue him. Her rush was compounded by the reassurance that she received when his cock started growing. She had touched him and he had responded. Until that moment he had her at a disadvantage. Now the scales were somewhat more balanced and her new-found confidence called for a strategic retreat. She let him go and rolled back on the mattress into a submissive sprawl. Her pussy was throbbing and flooding, her head was hot and high from the excessive flow of blood to her brain, and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She knew she couldn't hide her panting, so she panted openly, invitingly, with a smile of joy on her mouth.
"Don't go just yet," she purred, looking up at him. She reached into an elegant, hand-carved box and removed a pill vial. "Split a joint with me first. I'll be good. I won't touch you again. I have to keep reminding myself that while I'm very much in love with you, you don't feel the same. I'm still a little girl in your eyes. There are many women in your life, I would imagine, but you are the only real man I relate to. I must remind myself of our differences so there is no misunderstanding. Please believe me when I say that I want nothing from you that you don't want to give me."
From Lonnie's viewpoint Glenna looked enchantingly beautiful. The candlelight enhanced and showcased that beauty while the animal scent of her was driving him to distraction and turning his knees to jelly. Her gown was up to her thighs and her nylon hose triggered a chain reaction of desire that was a carry-over from his childhood when underwear ads were the Only available source of pictorial stimulation.
"One joint. No touching. Then back to the party," he said, knowing that if he didn't sit down, he would fall down. "Fair enough?"
"Fair enough."
He slipped off his shoes and sat beside her while she flipped the top off the vial, removed a joint and fired it up.
They passed the cigarette back and forth in silence. It was good grass, which blew off most of Lonnie's tension within the first couple of minutes. "Good shit," he finally said.
"Yeah." More silence.
"You really look lovely tonight. That light shade of blue in your gown perfectly sets off the deeper shade of blue in your eyes. And your skin is golden."
"Why, thank you. Don't you know that being in love is never having to ask anyone if you're pretty?"
"Please, Glenna, try to understand that you're not in love with me, you're in love with a fantasy that includes me."
"Tell you what, horse, I'll accept that I'm not much in love with you as I think, if you'll accept that I'm more in love with you than you think. Deal?"
"Deal," he answered, laughing the last puff of smoke from his lungs. "Why is everything so funny?"
"It's funny pot. I was kind to you. I wanted to give you horny pot, but I don't want to rush anything. Right now it's my birthday, and I'm sitting with you, alone in a room, and I'm the happiest woman in the world."
"Ha, ha, caught myself. Started to kiss you. Without thinking I almost just fell on your bones there for a second. I made the rule of no touching, then five minutes later I almost broke it. Far out. No touching."
"No touching."
"Nooooooo touching."
"Right."
"Right. But this isn't fair. As if the grass weren't enough to melt away my defenses, you had to go and put on the damnedest musk oil that ever invaded my nostrils. Not fair. Not fair. All that's missing is the music."
"I'll sing to you if you like," she said, her voice melody unto itself.
"No need. I can hear your heart singing. What's it called?"
"What's what called?"
"The musk oil."
"I'm not wearing anything."
"Liar. What's that I smell?"
"Probably this," she said, very matter-of-factly pulling her dress up over her waist, showing him that only a garter belt and her bare pussy resided there.
Oh, my God, was the reaction that rocked Lonnie's brain, just ... look ... at ... that ... beautiful, beautiful pussy. Wide open. Contracting against ... nothing. So wet the hair has fallen back revealing the lips. So pink. So young and tender. Oh, lord, what the fuck am I going to do? Look away. Look at her face. No help there. She's fucking me with those twin oceans called eyes. You might as well admit it. You're going to fuck her, aren't you? You're going to suck that lovely pussy until it stops contracting. No. No way. No touching.
Immediately upon seeing her pussy, Lonnie had reached out to it reflexively. Now his hand hovered over her, shaking from restraint.
Glenna kissed him and pushed his hand onto her pussy with one easy motion. Lonnie felt a release like piston compression escaping a leaky head gasket, then he quit thinking.
There were no sudden moves. Everything flowed. She got his pants off as quickly and neatly as a magician jerking a tablecloth from a fully set table without disturbing the dishes. The coat and shirt were discarded by Lonnie; and as he busied himself with that task, Glenna worked up his cock with her hands, then sucked it into her mouth, feeling certain that an arc of electricity had jumped from her lips to the head of his cock a couple of inches before contact.
Sweet Jesus, Glenna thought, so this is what it's all about. God, his cock feels good in my mouth. Never thought it would be so large. So hard. Like a lead sash weight with a rubber knob on top. I love you, Lonnie's cock, and I'll never let you out of my mouth.
Lonnie moved into the sixty-nine position effortlessly and the first succulent taste of her pussy calmed his jagged nerves. He sucked in her juices with the fervor of a man finding a large, fully-ripened peach after going several days without water.
What's that? Glenna questioned, frightened for an instant by the wave of excitement which swept through her loins; but her fear subsided as quickly as a wave hitting rocks will disperse, then rush back into the sea, when Glenna realized that her rush was caused by Lonnie's tongue parting the inner lips of her pussy. Ohhhhhh, yes, my love, suck it. Lick it, kiss it, invade my secret chamber with your loving tongue. There is no sentry standing guard there. And the deep sweetness of you in my throat. The circuit is complete, and the current is increasing. Goodnight brain. Thank you for getting me to this place, but now it is time for you to go to sleep.
Lonnie lightly lashed Glenna's clit with his tongue. Her pulse and heartbeat quickened, speeding up her breath rate. When the first orgasm hit her, she whimpered and lifted her head back off his charged cock, her face alive with surprise and wonder. The explosiveness of her release brought tears to her eyes.
Like tremors from an earthquake, subsequent orgasms established the pace and rhythm of her muscular reactions. His continued efforts locked her in motion and he could feel her nipples, as hard and prominent as pencil erasers, against his stomach.
Tripping more quietly now, she missed her pacifier, his cock; and it ballooned to full size again the moment she drew it back into her mouth. Her tears fell all the way to his balls as she sucked his rigid prick with total abandon.
Her mindless state lifted, and she knew she would soon have to choose between having the taste of his come in her mouth or the feel of it inside her cunt. She slowed down and softened her oral manipulations on his dick to give herself time to answer such a heavy question.
Lonnie was working again. Wide awake. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Enjoying her, sure, but working, nonetheless. He knew he wasn't going to come in her mouth. His near-loss of control with Angela was fresh in his mind. He was about to rotate and wedge his shining member between her flawless young thighs when she took the play away from him.
She still had her dress on when she climbed over him and took his cock inside her. She felt as though she had been entered by a blazing baseball bat, and the first deep thrust of him produced an excitement within her that nearly cost her her consciousness. Another burst of tears caused Lonnie concern.
"Am I hurting you, princess?"
"Oh, no, my darling. I've never been here before. In my wildest dream I've never imagined anything like this. Use me for your pleasure, my sweet. I brought you here to give you love; and now I'm so full of you that the joy inside my eyes is pushing out all the tears."
Lonnie brought her down to him and kissed her gently while working his cock into different angles of entry by twisting his hips. He reached behind her and undid her gown, then pulled it up and over her head. After licking his fingers, he massaged her giant nipples to life while kissing down the sides and into the valley between her tits.
She found his mouth with hers and plunged her tongue deeply into his mouth. She pretended her tongue was a cock and she fucked his lips to the rhythm of his fucking the lips of her cunt.
Glenna stretched back onto her haunches and ground her cunt around his cock. Then she increased the tempo until she became a thunderous fucking machine almost out of control.
Again her pure animal energies pushed all thought from Lonnie's mind and he fell from the tightrope he was walking which kept him on the edge of orgasm.
"Oh, shit, I'm gone!" he shouted. "Take it, Glenna! Take it all! OHHHHHHHHHHH YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!"
"Lonnie, I feel you ... I feel your come INSIIIIIIDE MEEEEEEEE!" she screamed, thrashing against him with the fury of a predator.
They lay together for a long time fighting sleep, then finally uncoupled and dressed in reverent silence. She clung to him tightly until they went back out into the corridor.
Charlie lay in his bed next door to the box room. He had heard everything and was wondering to what end he would use the data gained from his eavesdropping. But his more urgent concern was how the hell he was going to get all that come off his chest without soiling his sheets.
THREE
Lonnie Wolfe and the party were dying simultaneously. On the Drummond family's behalf, he had danced with, buttered up, patted the backs of, and grinned at Glenna's birthday guests until he feared his face would freeze that way and he would never again be able to cover his teeth with his lips.
It was almost four a.m. when he collapsed onto a poolside chaise lounge and empathized with the overworked musicians who were dragging ass and scraping the bottom of the barrel to come up with off-tempo renditions of oldies, but not-so-goodies.
There was no bone or muscle in his body which did not transmit a troubled signal to his brain, but the screaming S.O.S.'es corning from his feet drowned out the other pleas. He looked up at the open sky alive with stars and wondered what Janette was up to. She had been coolly detached all evening after having whispered to him the order to wait until the mob had gone. Then he wondered if he could muster up enough energy to get his shoes and socks off so he might relax his burning feet in the pool. In the midst of all this wonder, he fell asleep.
Moments later, or so it seemed, a semi-familiar voice from the night told him to get up. He was still less than half-awake when Janette pulled him up to the edge and almost into the pool. The band was gone. The people were gone. Dawn was approaching, and Lonnie took Janette's smile as a good omen. He grinned back at her and took a step.
"No, no, no, not into the pool, idiot! This way."
She led him back into a small guest house which doubly served as a place to change into swimwear. She undressed him standing up, keeping him from falling onto the bed by grabbing his tie and pulling him forward whenever he leaned away from her.
The next thing Lonnie remembered was trying to swim out of the bathtub into which Janette had directed him. He had mistakenly thought she had pushed him into the pool. She scrubbed him as thoroughly as any mother would scrub her son after a hard summer day of play.
That task having been completed, Janette lathered up his cock and manipulated it into a rigid state with her long, perfectly manicured fingers.
"You'll forgive me if I seem a little tense just now," Lonnie said, dividing his attention between her hand job and the lovely curves of her ass under the clinging white satin of her dressing gown, "but the last time you, shall we say, gave me a hand, you almost helped me out of my job. Tell me the truth. Is that soap dish over the faucet a hidden camera? Is Allen Funt hiding in the closet?"
"You hadn't called in over a month, old friend. I thought, perhaps, you had fallen into the mistaken belief that I had lost my touch."
So that's it! Wounded pride. Thank God it wasn't any of the other possibilites. "The idea never entered my mind, love. And believe me, I would have a lot more time for you if your slave driving husband didn't work me so hard."
"Poooooooor baby," Janette said, smiling for the first time and matching the rhythm of her speech with that of her hand. Then she rinsed him thoroughly and released the drain plug. She tossed a small lavender towel at Lonnie; and while he was drying his face, she went down on him, taking his surprised cock past the opening of her throat. Totally enveloping him with her mouth, she pushed her lips all the way to the base of his cock and licked his balls which she brought up to her lips in the cup of her hand.
Blinded by the towel, Lonnie didn't have warning time to set up his defense. The muscles in his ass tensed and he squeaked forward a few inches across the porcelain surface of the tub, but she didn't lose her oral hold on him. She stayed with him like a cowboy in the bulldogging event at a rodeo; and when he stopped moving, she clamped her lips around the base of his cock and as she sucked as hard as she could, she opened and closed her throat around the head of his dick, feeling it enlarge a little with each contraction.
The surprise of her attack left Lonnie in a helpless condition. He kept his eyes closed tight to keep from spoiling the intense pleasure she was causing out there somewhere in the dark. He could not have been more stimulated had she been able to enter the hole in his cock and run her tongue the full length of his shaft.
Janette persisted in giving Lonnie the wildest, most satisfying head he had had in a long time, until his approaching orgasm set up red warning flashes in his brain.
"Hey, hey, hey!" he shouted, eyes wide open now. "Uh ... could you hold it a minute?" She didn't respond to his question. He tried to roll away from her, over onto his stomach, but she held him in place.
"Where is ... uh, where's ... what's his name?" Lonnie asked, brow furrowed in concentration.
"Memnee?"
"Yeah, Henry?"
"Dallas," she answered, taking a break. "I talked to him a couple of hours ago."
"He called you?"
"No, I called him so he could wish Glenna a happy birthday. He's at the Statler."
"Business?"
"Henry never plays. You know that. Are you trying to distract me?"
"Good heavens, no, pet. I just don't savor the idea of good ole Henry popping in here and snuffing out my life."
Janette stood and helped Lonnie from the tub. "Come this way."
"You've found a new way? I knew if anybody was going to come up with a new wrinkle, it would be you."
"Very funny," she said, leading him to the studio couch by the cock. "I'll just hold on to this to keep up your interest level."
"You don't trust me to do anything, do you?"
"Of course, pet," she answered, pushing him back on the couch and tossing her robe to one side. "I'd trust you with my life, providing you were naked and always within my sight."
"Your vote of confidence overwhelms me," he said, watching his toes disappear into Janette's mouth. She pretended each toe was a cock, and her sucking and licking the valleys between them sent waves of shudders throughout Lonnie's system. She kissed the tender insteps of his feet. The ankles. The calves. The inside of his thighs. She continued upward, kissing 'his balls and cock, then drew a wet line down his other leg with her lips and darting tongue, winding up again at the toes of his other foot.
She crawled forward, and after splashing his cock and her chest with baby oil, she fucked his cock between her tits while continuing to cover his ribs, stomach and hips with kisses.
Lonnie doubled forward to kiss her. Her mouth was soft, yet alive with feeling. She kept up the initiative by kissing his eyes, his nose, shocking his sensibilities by tonguing his nostrils. He recoiled from this only to feel her torrid tongue reaming and rimming his left ear, then the right. She kissed his neck and his arms. She sucked his fingers.
When every nerve ending in his body became activated, he began to hump her glistening chest furiously. Now, every kiss she gave him set off a miniature explosion, a small surface orgasm.
Janette straddled his body and crawled further forward, steadying herself by holding on to the wall as she planted her pussy squarely against his mouth.
"Oh, yes, lover," she cooed, "fuck me with your tongue. That's it ... that's it ... oh, god, that's it!"
Lonnie ate her with the same gusto he had sucked out tiny spicy snails a few nights before in New York's Chinatown. He pried back her outer lips, brought her off quickly by lapping her clit with a fast hundred light lashes of his tongue and sent her into wild ecstasy by all but filling her cunt with his tongue, churning against her pussy's walls with the edges of his tongue and stabbing hidden recesses with the tip.
"My god, Janette!" he exclaimed as she backed down a bit and guided his cock into her cunt. "I'm nothing but a six-foot erogenous zone. You are some kind of fucking machine."
"Why, thank you, Lonnie," she said, holding his cock tightly with her cunt muscles as she rotated her body in a slow orbit, then reversed the direction. "I'm a superior horsewoman, so this position suits my talents. This is the walk." She moved slowly up and down his swollen shaft in four-four time. "What do you think?"
"It's not like any walk I've taken."
"And the trot. When the saddle is down, you're up; and when the saddle is up, you're down."
"I see ... what you mean ... it's kind of ... tricky, isn't it," he said, trying to capture one of her nipples with his mouth and finding the task as difficult as grabbing the brass ring on a merry-go-round.
"And the gallop," she said, hitting high gear.
"RIDE 'EM, COOOOOWBOOOOY! YIPPEEEEEEEEEE!" Lonnie yelled, his balls discharging like twin cannons. Janette kept on riding. "WHOA, STOUT FELLA. THE RACE IS OVER!"
"Just a ... few more ... hundred yards," she said, pouring it on, sweat flying from her face and shoulders.
"A few ... hundred yards? Can't make it! Dismount!
DISMOUNT, DAMN YOU, THIS RACE IS ... OVER!"
"Almost there ... almost there ... NOW ... OH, YES ... OOOOOOHHHHHH!!!!"
"ENOUGH ... THERE ISN'T ANY MORE ... I'M EMPTY!"
"Just once more ... once more," she said, smacking him a resounding slap on the ass.
Lonnie's eyes bulged from their sockets and his face was approaching Chinese red when he was hit by his totally unexpected second orgasm. "OOOOHHHHHH, SHIIIIITTTTT! Let me go ... let me go ... please, let me go ... I'm dying ... really dying!"
"WAAAHOOOOOOOO!" Janette screamed, grinding her pussy against Lonnie as hard as she could, slipping and sliding against his oily flesh, then the final release, then quiet, then a nervous shudder caused a few more gyrations.
"You're not starting up again, are you?" Lonnie asked, wearing an expression of terror.
"No ... no ... no ... that's it ... that's all of it."
"Thank god. Not that it wasn't exciting. I just thought I might not live through it, that's all. And that shot you gave me. My ass is going to ache for a week."
"Made you come again, didn't it?" she asked with a wry smile.
"I wasn't too crazy about that either. You've probably damaged me permanently. I may never come again, but I don't know whether to report you to the police or the N.S.P.C.A."
Janette spun around. "Let's see," she said, pushing his red tool in her mouth.
Lonnie's scream was interrupted by Glenna, who rushed into the room with the look of doom on her face.
Janette jumped off the studio couch and threw a quilt over Lonnie as though she were trying to bury the evidence of a criminal act. "Glenna, this isn't what it seems to be."
"I'm sure it isn't, Mother," Glenna said, the condescension oozing from her like heavy syrup. "I've got it. Lonnie fell in the pool and you were trying to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation, but you misplaced your glasses and you mistakenly gave first aid to the wrong end of him."
Janette had nothing to say; but before she could say it, Glenna burst into tears, fell into Lonnie's arms, and tried to bury her head in his armpit. "Lonnie, darling, what are we going to do?"
"We're going to talk about it," he said, kissing a tear from her temple. "We're going to sit down, the three of us, and discuss this thing openly, completely without emotion."
Fighting hysterics, Glenna straightened up and looked directly into Lonnie's eyes. "I'm not talking about this. Lonnie, I found a microphone in the box room. Daddy knows everything!"
All emotion suddenly drained from Lonnie's face. "A microphone?" He looked at Janette. She shrugged.
"Yes, a tiny microphone. I found one in my bedroom, too. The son of a bitch heard everything I told you yesterday morning, Mother. About how I'm planning to get away from him. What will he do?"
Janette joined them on the couch. Huddled together like three frightened children in the midst of an electrical storm, they hugged each other for support. "I don't know, but I don't think he's going to like it."
"Now, let's not panic," Lonnie said, trying to shake off his panic. "Where did the wires lead?"
"To this room. Why do you think I ran in here so fast? The wires go to a common cable, then shoot over here with the telephone line."
The three of them began searching the room frantically. For ten minutes they scurried about the room, Lonnie and Janette naked, and Glenna in a beltless robe, her tits constantly falling into view. The scene looked like an outtake from an old Marx Brothers comedy.
Glenna found a microphone inside a large table lamp. Lonnie pulled up the wire which had been stapled to the floor under the carpet's edge. It led to a large stereo speaker. Lonnie removed the back of the speaker with his pocket knife. Inside was a transmitter. None of the three had any special knowledge of electronics, but all of them recognized the transmitter as the same type they had seen on television during the Watergate hearings. The instrument was hot. Working. Lonnie found the power switch and turned it off.
"We've got to get the hell out of here," Janette said after a moment of shocked silence.
"No," Lonnie said, "there's no place to go. The world is too small to hide from a man like Henry Drummond."
Glenna returned to her crying jag.
"That's true," Janette said, "but we could buy a little time. If Henry comes back from Dallas and finds us here, that will be the end of that. Given time to think it over, he might cool down, at least past the shooting stage."
Lonnie pondered the alternatives like a human computer. "I've come to a conclusion," he said, one hand pointed upward like the gesture of a Baptist preacher. "We've got to get the hell out of here!"
FOUR
Looking positively radiant in a pale yellow summer dress and a large white sun hat, Mrs. Buck Short looked over the contracts before her on the large oval conference table in her late husband's office in their ranch a few miles outside Dallas.
It was the second day of Henry Drummond's stay at the Lazy S Ranch and the natural beauty of the place was getting to Henry. He was more relaxed than he'd been in years. He had dropped a twelve-point buck the day before with his old friend's favorite shotgun, and much to his surprise, he even enjoyed the venison barbecue Margaret had given in his honor after the hunt.
"It's hard for me to believe that old Buck won't be coming through that door and offering me a swig of Jack Daniels from that gold flask he always carried with him."
"I know," she answered, beginning to sign the documents. "Life was such a rush to Buck he left a large part of himself in these rooms. Sometimes I can even hear him barking orders to the hired hands. I'm sure he is happy that I'm selling the oil company to you. He admired you greatly, Henry."
"The feeling was mutual."
"Many's the time Buck called you the meanest man God put on Earth since Billy the Kid."
"Except for himself. Did he ever tell you about the time we cleaned out a bar in Brooklyn? I've enjoyed a few fights in my day, but I never met a man who loved it the way Bucky did."
"All finished," Margaret said, pushing the papers to Henry who slid them into his attache case. "You now own yourself an oil company."
"And you own a large chunk of Drummond Industries. You sure you won't reconsider and sell it back to me?"
"No, I'm happy with the transaction. You expect any trouble from Bruce and Jay?"
"None that I can't handle."
"Will you be returning to New York tonight?"
"No, I thought I'd go back tomorrow afternoon. That will leave us tonight to consummate our deal."
"You're not serious about that," Margaret said with the trace of a blush.
"I certainly am. Nothing else could have pried that Drummond stock out of my portfolio. I want you, Margaret. I've always wanted you, but Buck was my friend and I couldn't say anything while he was alive. I request just one hour of your undivided attention. Buck once told me you were the best, and I knew I'd never rest until I investigated his claim personally. You're not going to welch on me, are you? Buck wouldn't like that."
"No, but I wish you would reconsider. I haven't been to bed with a man in over a year. I don't have a rheostat on my emotions, Henry. I'm either on or off; and when I'm on, I don't stop until overtaken by exhaustion. Are you sure your system can handle that kind of attention?"
"If I can't, I certainly couldn't think of a nicer way to go. You're a remarkably beautiful woman, Margaret. Tall. Strong. Proud. It's difficult for me to want anything. You've made me want you. That's marvelous."
"And what would Mrs. Drummond think?"
"Not much. We've led separate lives for years. There is no love between us. We stay together for Gelnna." He stood and walked around to her side of the table and massaged her neck. "Let's not get bogged down in a family discussion at a time like this."
"That feels good."
"You're skin is as creamy and supple as a teenager's."
"My, Grandma, what a smooth talker you are. If I'm not careful you'll be talking me right out of my red riding hood."
"Shall we retire to more private quarters?" Henry asked, offering Margaret his hand.
The phone rang and Margaret answered it. "It's for you. New York calling."
"I'm not here," he said, kissing the nape of her neck.
"The man said it was urgent."
"The man is overruled," he said, kissing her bare arm down to the elbow. "This is more urgent than anything in New York could possibly be."
"I'm sorry but Mr. Drummond cannot come to the phone right now. May I take a message?" A pause. "Just a moment." She covered the mouthpiece. "He says his name is Roy Bennett and he is calling about a matter that simply can't wait."
Henry shook his head in disgust and took the phone. "Yeah, Roy, what's up?" A pause. "Yes, I'm sitting down," he lied. "What is it? I'm extremely busy." A long pause followed, during which Henry slowly sank into a chair. Beads of perspiration popped out on his forehead as all color drained from his face. "Are you sure?" he asked quite calmly. "There were hundreds of people at the party, Roy. Are you sure it was Glenna?" Pause. "Yes, yes, that's ... that's Glenna. I'll take care of it. I want you to-" A long pause. "Say that again." Henry seemed to be in another world as he listened to the man. All energy drained from him. "Find him, Roy. I'll be there in a few hours." He returned the receiver to the cradle as though it were unclean. Then he sat there in shocked silence.
Margaret reached out to console him. "What is it, Henry? An accident?"
He grabbed her wrist like an animal lashing out at an animal and twisted it. "What is Lonnie Wolfe to you?"
"A friend," she said. "Stop it! You're hurting me!"
"Where did you know him from?"
"College."
"I know this stock trade has something to do with him. What, exactly?"
"We were lovers. He ran out on me. Please, let go."
"Tell me!" he shouted, applying more pressure.
"I hate him! I hate him! I wanted the stock so I could get in a position to hurt his career!"
Henry let her go, and she sobbed as she tried to rub the red marks from her wrist. "Are you going to tell him?" she asked.
"Yes, Margaret, I am. Just before I blow his brains out the back of his head."
"What?"
"Last night, Lonnie Wolfe attended a party on Long Island, Glenna's twenty-first birthday party. Sometime during the night he lured her into a storage room and fucked her. Then early this morning, he fucked my wife in a small guest house by our swimming pool. Angela. No doubt he got to her, too. If my mother was living, he'd probably try to fuck her."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'M GOING TO KILL THE MANGY LITTLE COCKSUCKER, THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING TO DO!!!!!" he yelled, pounding his meaty fist against the top of the table so hard he nearly splintered one of the sturdy oak planks. "I treated him like a son, and he does this to me. He has seen his last morning on this planet!" He shot out of his chair, knocking it back onto the floor, then walked into the trophy room.
Margaret followed, her heart beating like thunder. She had had to deal with her husband when he was drunk, but Buck had never shown her the crazed look she saw in Henry's eyes.
The big man hurried past the mounted heads of elk, moose, and assorted big game. He came to a large gun cabinet and yanked the door open, snapping the small lock with ease. One by one he threw the weapons onto the floor until he came to a high-powered rifle with a scope attached.
"This will do," he said, testing the gun for balance. "This is Buck's vermin gun. He killed hundreds of rats and prairie dogs with this baby. A fitting funeral piece for a rat like Lonnie Wolfe."
"Henry, don't go off half-cocked like this. Stay awhile. You're upset. You don't know what you're doing."
"Madam, I have always known what I was doing. For your hospitality, I thank you. Now, get out of my way, you're blocking the door."
"You're not going to welch on me, are you, Henry? Buck wouldn't like that."
Henry's ears perked up like those of a startled rabbit. He glanced at his watch. It would take a couple of hours to service his plane properly for takeoff. He dialed the airport and instructed his pilot to stand by. Then he looked up at the exquisite woman standing frozen in her tracks, her long blonde hair absorbing the perspiration on her protruding collarbone.
Like a predator examining his prey, Henry circled her twice, then lifted the straps from her dress with the barrel of the rifle he was brandishing. She let the garment fall to the floor and stepped out of it, showing no fear.
Henry tossed the gun onto the couch, then walked up to her and placed his right hand inside the elastic band of her panties. Her stomach was firm, somewhat tense against his knuckles, and he could feel the silken hairs of her pussy with his fingers as he ripped her panties off with one sudden yank. As she spun around off balance, he grabbed her bra strap and jerked it open and off.
With both hands, he kneaded her tits from behind. Like the rest of her, they were firm-nice handfuls with upturned nipples that came erect under his touch.
He squeezed harder, hurting her, but getting no response.
He spun her back around and kissed her, he with a wet open mouth, and she with lips tightly closed. "Where do you want to get it on?" she asked.
"In here. Over there on that leopard skin rug," he said, pointing toward the fireplace.
Margaret slowly pulled away from his grasp and locked the door in the room. Henry watched her glorious ass rotate as she walked about the room, dressed only in her wide-brimmed hat and high-heeled shoes.
Having secured the doors, she stood on the animal skin, kicked off her shoes, sailed her hat across the room, and beckoned for him to join her.
She took off his suit coat and tie with gentleness and ease, then ripped his expensive tailored shirt into ragged strips, spinning him around, and tore off both back trouser pockets as he passed.
Having amused herself enough, she sat on the leopard rug with her legs spread invitingly. Hers was a pretty pussy, a lush pink slit surrounded by golden pubis. "You suppose you can get it up, old man?"
"Don't worry about me," he said, throwing off the rest of his clothes. "You just take care of your end."
"My end? I like that. But my end takes care of itself. My cunt has a mind all of its own."
"You don't have to be vulgar about it."
"Hey, motherfucker, you've been pushing me around like a side of second-class beef. Don't talk to me about vulgarity. As many times as you and Buck have left me here to go whoring about the countryside."
"He told you that?"
"He didn't have to. It generally took me a month to get the come stains out of his jeans every time you happened to pass this way. You two did fuck around a lot, didn't you, cowboy? Or did you just suck each other off during the slow periods of the hunts?"
Henry started pulling his pudding. "I'll show you who's queer!"
"If you can get it up. Let's get this show on the road. Pass that thing over here, you don't seem to know what the fuck to do with it."
Henry stood over Margaret and leaned against the fireplace. She took his dick in her mouth and massaged the large vein behind his balls. His cock filled out slowly, big at the base, then the top followed, a similar process to that of inflating a long balloon.
"How did you do that so fast?" Henry asked in amazement.
"I have the magic touch, so I've been told," she said, lapping the head of his dork with long, lazy strokes, like a long-tongued dog licking a bone. "I touch men on the inside. I get a good grip on their essence, then I feed on their energies. Suck it right out of them. You sure you want to go through with this?"
"Yes, I'm quite certain," he said, sitting beside her while she transferred his cock from her mouth to her hand, keeping the head stimulated with her fingers. "I don't like cocky women. I'm going to fuck your brains out."
"I don't know, Henry," she said with a big grin, "all I've gotten out of you so far is a lot of big talk. I'll bet you couldn't satisfy a chicken." , Henry pounced on the lady and bruised her lips with an overzealous kiss. She bit his lower lip so hard a jet of blood spurted all the way back to her uvula.
"God damn you, you vicious cunt!" Henry screamed, pulling back up on his knees between her legs. Instinctively he drew back a clenched fist. "I ought to bust your fucking head open!"
"I'd think about it if I were you," she said, sporting an I-dare-you curl on her smile.
Henry looked down at his crotch. She had him by the balls. Literally. One in each hand, with her inch-long nails curled inward, ready to strike. Henry lowered his arm and stared at the situation. He couldn't believe it. Nothing remotely like that had ever happened to him before. He rechecked her eyes and discovered more determination that he cared to deal with.
"What do you think, Henry? Want to try me?"
"Not particularly. This scene seems to have played itself down a dark alley. Want to try a little tenderness?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Margaret said, fondling the balls she had nearly devastated. She moved her hands along his shaft and up and over the mushroom of his cock with great deliberation, never taking her eyes from Henry's just in case he was trying to lull her into letting go of him.
After licking his fingers, he touched her, flaring out the outer lips of her pussy and gently massaging her clit. He stroked her breast with his free hand, then leaned forward to kiss her. Margaret licked away the fresh blood from his lip and planted small sweet kisses across his cheek.
Again, Henry felt his organ ballooning between his legs. Magic touch, huh, he thought. Bullshit. Yet, energy does seem to be pouring in through her fingertips. Probably the power of suggestion. But I've never been turned on this quickly. Who gives a flying fuck? It's working, isn't it? Go with it. Give her a ride she won't forget.
Margaret's body was on automatic pilot, as it had been for years. She felt Henry's finger enter her. Her hips began to roll against the pumping motion of his hand, and the walls of her pussy throbbed and gripped his finger like the finger of a rubber glove. Jesus, that feels good. Got to keep him going. Got to keep his mind off Lonnie. Good god, look at the size of that thing! An elephant trunk. An enormous growth coming out of nowhere. Forgive me, Lonnie, but son of a bitch or not, I've got to suck that monster. There might be another inch or two lurking in the shadows.
Ducking under Henry's chest, Margaret had to open wide to get the swollen head of his tool past her teeth. She teased the glans area with the tip of her tongue and, sure enough, it got even bigger. The enlargement triggered something in her cunt that caused her to hump his finger at a more rapid pace.
Great balls of fire, look at the size of that son of a bitch! was the thought that hit Henry's brain and held his attention. Have I been fucking with half an erection all my life? I can't believe it. It's downright spooky. Shit, that mouth. Suck it. Lick it. Swish it around in your mouth like a fine wine. Buck, you old horse thief, you weren't lying to me. This beautiful cunt has to be the best cocksucker this side of Paris. And I don't mean Paris, Texas. But her pussy is so small, so tight around my finger. I'll rip her apart if I shove this torpedo into that delicate hole. Yeah, I'm going to feel terrible about it in the morning, but small as a mouse's ass as it is, nothing short of a bullet is going to keep me out of that tender snatch today.
Look at the shit-eating grin on the smug bastard, but I guess I'd be grinning, too, if I carried a shotgun like this around all the time: Wonder if he has a permit to carry a concealed weapon. I'd love to get it down my throat, but there's no way that could happen. Wonder if it's too big for my pussy. Maybe so, maybe no, but we'll give it a chance.
Margaret spread open her pussy's lips and Henry began the long slow journey inside her. There were minor withdrawals to allow proper lubrication; but in time the big muscle totally disappeared, an illusion spectacular enough to cause any self-respecting magician to give up the rabbit-in-the-hat trick forever.
Once Margaret realized that she had accommodated all of Henry's cock without her plumbing being rerouted, she went positively berserk and fucked him with the fury of a boxing champion punching a contender at will.
Henry tried to fuck back and just reached the point where he was holding his own when his knees and elbows gave out. Thinking he could better defend his position from another posture, he rolled onto his back, easily bringing her with him on account of the size and stolidity of the bond between them.
That was a big mistake. Margaret now had all the room she needed to properly grind him into oblivion. And grind she did. The spring in her pumping pussy action was similar to that of a milking machine gone crazy; and even though her body was on its own, doing its own thing, she was ever mindful of her missian to keep Henry's mind off killing Lonnie Wolfe.
Where the hell does she get her stamina? Henry wondered. She's pounding me like a leopard doing business with a zebra. No sense in slugging it out with her toe to toe. I'll let her tire herself out. I'll roll with the punches and pick my shots. Work out, you wicked cunt, work out! Can't understand what she's doing to make my prick so big. And where the fuck is she putting it all? Twist it, bend it, break it if you can. Pure steel doesn't break, does it, wench?
Got to get him off and he doesn't want to go. If he leaves this room with the stone aches, he'll get off by killing Lonnie. Why don't you come, you big pile of shit? Nine out of ten men would have shot off at least twice by now. Look at those Cheshire Cat eyes as he lies back with his hands tucked behind his head weathering the storm like an inveterate seaman. Got to slow down! Got to pace myself like he is. Not easy. Not easy to get my body's attention. I've never fucked the Empire State building before. Whoa, haunches! No use. Might as well hang on and make the most of it.
Isn't she ever going to get tired? If I didn't know better I'd swear she's been in training for this bout for six months. She's fucking me like an automatic screwing machine. I've got to find the plug and pull it. I'm losing too much energy. Sweating like stoking a coal furnace. Breathing too hard. Hips hurt. Salty sweat dripping down in my eyes. Come, you worthless cunt! Come on, come, come, come! No use. She's just fucking, she's not coming. Better take matters into my own hands.
Henry licked his fingers with the determination of a hard-throwing pitcher in the late innings of a World Series game, reached in between their pounding bodies, and tickled her clit.
To his total dismay, she planted her feet firmly on the animal skin and raised herself up into a catcher's position so he would have easier access to her. Now, with just the doorknob of his cock inside her, she bore down with all her might and rotated her body in unpredictable arc, butterfly and figure-eight patterns. Her flying pussy turned itself inside-out, creating a suction that made him feel he was engaged in oral, rather than genital sex.
Henry's face flooded with fear and he pinched her clit to keep from shooting his wad. "Hey, stop that! That hurts!"
"All is fair in love and war," Henry responded gleefully, hanging on to her clit with the tenacity of an irate lobster.
"Cut the crap. You wouldn't know love if you fell in a vat of it."
"All right, my love, we are left with war."
"As you wish," Margaret said, reaching behind her and squeezing his nuts together with such intensity that his eyes crossed before releasing a stream of tears. He let go of her pussy as quickly as a small unknowing boy would pull his hand out of a campfire.
She immediately thrust her full body weight back into action. She opened up and hit him with everything she had, but it was she who had the orgasm. "OH, YES! NOW, HENRY! Come on, come on, COME OOOOONNNNNNNN! Pull the trigger! Gush inside me! Give it to me! Give it to MEEEEE!" she shouted, hitting her second, third and fourth climaxes. "I want your come! I want your hot come shooting inside my cunt! This is it, Henry, I have nothing more to give! Do it, do it, oooohhhhhhhhh, pleeeeeeeease dooooooo it!"
Both their bodies were generating enough perspiration to float a battleship when Henry spun her over on her back and rucked her with the fury of a mad soldier attacking an enemy batalion single-handedly. For twenty minutes he kept up the furious pace, plying her with all the force he could.
Margaret fainted, and Henry continued to pump her unconscious form. She had gone past pleasure, past pain, and into numbness before her mumbled pleas faded into silence.
Now he rooted her like a wild boar, tearing through the dry flesh of her pussy with his battering cock. She began to bleed. Nothing could have excited Henry more. His heart pounded like a bass drum. Veins popped out across his forehead and all over his body. See there, Buck, I've beaten her! I can beat them all! Try to make a fool out of Henry Drummond, eh? They'll all be bleeding soon. Lonnie, Janette, Glenna, "Angela, all of them, do you hear, all of them! There will be enough blood to drown the fucking Russian Army! More blood! Just a little more blood! Just a little MOOOORRRRRRREEEEE! AAA RRRGGGHHHHHHHHH!
The orgasm hit Henry in the form of an electrical charge so potent his body straightened, out like a railroad tie, and the energy accompanying the gushing wildcat oil rig of his cock felt as if it was causing his hair to stand on end as one would expect a cat to look upon touching an electrified fence.
Henry had never experienced anything which even approached this degree of force in his life. His eyes bulged out from their sockets and his mouth dropped in disbelief as the come continued to pump into, then back out the sides, of Margaret's bleeding cunt. He tried to stop fucking her, but couldn't, and his cock continued to gush semen after he passed out and fell onto Margaret's bones with the impact of a giant redwood tree.
FIVE
From the standpoint of the many New York City florists who provided several flatbed truckloads of flowers, Henry Drummond had the biggest funeral of the year. A couple of them felt it was the gaudiest planting since some of the more ambitious gangland extravaganzas of the prohibition era.
In the front page story in The New York Times, it was reported that the plastics tycoon succumbed to a massive coronary while visiting Mrs. Buck Short, a Texas oil heiress and longtime family friend. Upon hearing the news of Mr. Drummond's passing, Mrs. Short was hospitalized in Dallas and treated for shock. Mr. Drummond's wife and daughter were unavailable for comment.
That story reached Lonnie, Janette and Glenna in Mannedorf, Switzerland. Lonnie informed UPI in Zurich that he and the family were awaiting Henry's arrival for an extended vacation brought about in part by a general condition of exhaustion of which the deceased had recently complained.
The three of them flew back to New York City and were on their way to the mortuary when it dawned on them that Henry might have staged his own death simply to lure them out of hiding. Lonnie and Janette nervously gulped down three martinis each in a bar across the street from the funeral home while Glenna went inside to be sure her father wasn't kidding.
When informed by Glenna that Henry had, indeed, passed on to his just reward, the other two entered the mortuary and were led to Henry. Lonnie fully expected the peaceful giant to sit up in his casket and throttle him on the spot. Only when, with trembling fingers, Lonnie found no pulse beat coming from Henry's wrist, did his nervousness leave him. The solemn-faced mortician discounted the obvious relief etched on the faces of the immediate family as a hysterical reaction brought on by shock. The fact that his firm would make $40,000 for services rendered was possibly a factor in his layman's diagnosis.
Flowers and messages of condolence came from all over the world, wherever Drummond Industries had done business; and the funeral was a three-ring circus, complete with gallons of crocodile tears, rude newsmen, no less than four eulogies delivered by dapper Caesar Romero look-a--likes, whose glowing tributes did not include the fact that the speakers had never laid eyes on the deceased until that afternoon.
Lonnie was asked to say a few words at the graveside ceremony, and he led the mourners in a minute of silent prayer.
As interim President of Drummond Industries, Lonnie got little sleep for the next month. His was the task of sorting out all the secret deals Henry had made. Janette and Glenna organized a team to answer all who had sent flowers and cards of sympathy. They also called on one Roy Bennett, the detective Henry had hired to spy on his family and convinced him that his bill to Lonnie was some $75,000 too high. He was shocked to learn that the women knew about the tapes and were still speaking to each other. He asked them if they thought the newspapers would endorse their open-mindedness, and Janette calmly pointed out to him that $75,000 would buy a lot of broken bones. Roy Bennett immediately saw the logic of her point of view.
Lonnie spent the few hours he was allowed each week for relaxation with Angela Proctor, insomuch as Jay and Bruce, denied entrance to the Drummond Building by security police, were taking turns watching Lonnie's apartment building in the East 80's.
"I never thought the pace could be this hectic, Angela," Lonnie said, stretched out on a plastic sheet on her water bed as she applied scented oil to his naked back. "Crass motherfucker that he was, Henry was some kind of magician when it came to getting the work done."
"Don't think about it now," she said, letting her fingers dance down his spine and buttocks. "Just relax and give me all your tension. The secret to Henry's success was taking things one at a time. He came here to relax. You must do the same."
"There's going to be a big proxy fight next month when the new President is officially elected. Bruce and Jay have large blocks of Drummond stock. With an impassioned plea to the stockholders, they could take over Drummond, lock, stock, and barrel. Maybe I should make a deal with them. Maybe a merger is in order."
"Over my dead body," Angela said, slowly kneading the backs of Lonnie's thighs and calves. She, too, was naked and had covered the front side of her body with oil. As she rubbed Lonnie's legs, she brushed against them sideways with her tits. "Bruce and Jay are morons. Let them fry in their own juices. You can count on my support."
"You have Drummond stock?"
"What else could Henry give me? In addition to my personal services, I supplied him with loans several times over the past few years when he had overextended himself."
"Henry borrowed money from you?"
"High rollers like him are constantly in debt. The more he owed, the more secure he felt. I think he got his motivation from painting himself into a corner, then fighting his way out."
"Then I guess the issue of the Presidency lies in the hands of Mrs. Buck Short. I'd better go to Dallas and try to get her proxy."
"Shhhhhh. You can go to Dallas tomorrow. Tonight you must rest."
Angela rolled Lonnie over onto his back and massaged his face, arms and chest. He was almost asleep when she oiled his cock and worked it into a state of erection with her talented fingers. His eyes opened a little as she got one of his big toes in her pussy and sucked the toes of his other foot while continuing to give him a hand job.
"I ... I don't think I can do anything," he mumbled lazily.
"You're not supposed to be thinking," she said softly, licking and kissing the soles of his feet and between his toes. "Put everything out of your mind. You don't have to do anything. That's my job."
"Anything ... you ... say ... Angela." Then quickly, "Only, please don't suck me off. It's a hang-up with me. Okay?"
"Whatever you say, Master. Now ... just let ... everything go ... just let ... everything flow."
Lonnie let his head fall back on the bed and slipped into a very light sleep. The bed undulated slowly from the impetus of Angela's hand job, and this rocking motion coupled with the high temperature of the bed made Lonnie feel he was back in his mother's womb.
Angela wiped the oil from Lonnie's dying cock and renewed the life within it by gently tugging on it with her lips. She licked and sucked his cock with just enough pressure to keep it hard, but not enough to awaken him. She kissed his balls and traced the large vein on the underside of his prick with her tongue. After about five minutes of this, his cock reached that state of rigidity that told Angela one quick swish just inside her excited mouth would set him off.
"Nooooooo, Maggie, please don't," he moaned, still asleep, in the voice of a nine-year-old boy. "Mamma won't like it."
"Okay," Angela cooed. "May I hold it?"
"Yes, you may hold it, only don't lick it Mamma won't like it."
"Why not?"
"Because that's what she does. She'd get awfully mad if I let anyone else do it."
"Does she lick it a lot?"
"Only till I go to sleep. Then she stops. I think." "Does she do it every night?"
"No, only when I cry. Then she licks it, and I stop crying."
"Do you cry often?"
"Oh, yes, I cry more than anybody at school. I'm afraid of the dark. The boogie man will get me in the dark."
"Why don't you sleep with the light on?"
"That's silly. Everybody knows that. If you go to sleep with the light on, it will blind you. I cry when the light's on, too. And I cry when I'm thirsty. And I cry when it thunders and Ughtnings. I cry a lot, but Mamma always gets me quiet by licking my pee-pee."
Angela straddled Lonnie carefully and guided his taut tool inside her cunt. The slightest motion from her haunches would cause the bed to rock him in and out of her so that she could remain perfectly still and concentrate on contracting and relaxing the muscles of her pussy around his captive cock with the rise and fall of the woman-made tide.
She leaned forward and kissed Lonnie's nipples as his cock automatically glided in and out of the hot silken orifice between her legs. She kissed his armpits and the sides of his ribs. He moaned and rolled his head from side to side but continued to sleep.
After another few minutes of gentle civilized fucking, Angela felt his balls behind her. His sac drew up as tight as a small balloon of Saran wrap around two ripe olives, and Angela came, losing all control as she did.
"Come, baby, come," she whispered in his ear, then fucked him furiously, sucking his tongue into her mouth.
"Mantle frattle rap!" Lonnie shouted, the discharge of words being muffled by her kiss. His eyes opened full in startled amazement to find himself in mid-orgasm.
"Oh, yes, oh god yes, OH, SHIT!" he shouted, burying his face in her shoulder and hanging on for dear life as his balls exploded and he shot a most intense jet of semen into the deepest recesses of the frantic pussy pumping him to submission.
"AAAWWWWWWWWW, YEEEEEESSSSSSS!" she screamed, clinging to him like a coat of paint.
Angela continued to cling to him and shudder for a couple of minutes before coming off him and resuming her oil massage.
"Hey," Lonnie said, finding his voice and trying to focus on her face through the half-open slits of his eyes, "you sure do know how to wake a guy up. What a rush! I was dreaming that I was a little boy again, and I know this sounds crazy, but I was fucking my mother in the dream. When I came in the dream, t woke up to find myself coming in you. It was like something right out of the head of Strindberg."
"Did you like it?" Angela asked, licking the come drippings from his cock and massaging the muscles in his thighs.
"I think so. But I'm going to have to wait for the reviews to be sure."
"Go back to sleep," she whispered. "Do you want me to make your plane reservations to Dallas?"
Lonnie fell asleep before he could answer.
Lonnie was met at Love Field by Margaret's troubleshooter, Hank Storm, a short, wirey, bow-legged, tobacco chewing cowboy whose idea of a vacation was to drive nonstop to Cheyenne with an ever-present bottle of Old Crow bourbon stuck between his legs, stopping only for gas, cheeseburgers and peeing. He would then spend a few days engaged in the relaxing pastime of getting thrown on his head by Brahma bulls and busting his ribs bulldogging steers.
Hank nearly broke Lonnie's hand with his leathery, gnarled-fingered handshake, then led him to the Buck Short Special, a $40,000 lemon Cadillac convertible with Black Angus cowhide upholstery and gold-plated Colt .45 door handles which opened the doors when the triggers were pulled.
"What's Mrs. Short like?" Lonnie asked Hank as he loaded Lonnie's suitcase in the trunk.
"Git in," was Hank's reply.
"Can I sit up front with you?"
"Nope."
Lonnie shrugged and got in the back. There he found a color television set, three telephones, and a wet bar, from which he mixed a Scotch sour. No sooner had he taken his first sip when Hank tore out of the airport like a small jet and accelerated the big car past 100 m.p.h. down the longest, flattest stretch of highway Lonnie had ever seen.
As they roared past the security guard at the Lazy S Ranch, Hank almost hit an ambling bull, then continued to speed up to the main house. Lonnie nearly choked to death on the dust cloud which filled his end of the open car.
Screeching to a halt, Hank got Lonnie's suitcase and disappeared inside the house as though Lonnie didn't exist.
After getting his breath and beating as much dust as he could out of his suit, Lonnie staggered onto the porch and rang the bell. He was greeted by another cowboy, this one tall, grinning, graying at the temples, wearing Western clothes with a string tie.
"Welcome, Mr. Wolfe," he said, as Lonnie entered. "Cal Ramsey, foreman here at the Lazy S. Glad ta meetcha." Another bone popping handshake.
"What's with the little tornado who picked me up?"
"Hank? Aw, don't pay him no mind. He don't cotton to strangers much a-tall, and seein' how your company has taken over Short Oil, well, ole Hank is a little salty 'bout that, I'm afraid. He's a Texan to the very marrow of his bones and he can't understand complex issues like mergers. Especially with Yankees. How'd you git so wet?"
"I spilled my drink as we flew out of the airport."
Cal laughed. "Hank sure does drive crazy, that's for sure. Mrs. Short's in a business conference right now. Follow me. I'll show you to your room."
Ramsey led Lonnie up a staircase covered with multi-colored Indian carpet and natural long handrails and into a large sun-bright guestroom. Ther were animal skins on the floors and a fur bedspread on the king-sized bed. Paintings of Western scenes adorned the walls.
There was a bar and a refrigerator, inside which Lonnie found a cold meat platter of rare roast beef, venison, smoked wild turkey and quail.
"A fella could spend a week in here," Lonnie said, sampling the food and fixing himself a gin and tonic. Then he undressed and paced the floor with his drink, planning his strategy with Margaret. He would find out why Drummond hadn't received their initial oil shipments. He would be firm with her, yet not too heavy, because anyone who could get Henry to part with his precious Drummond stock would have to be formidable.
After another gin and tonic, he was off to the shower where he continued his dialogue with the absent Mrs. Short.
By the time Margaret entered, Lonnie was drying himself and watching his gestures in the mirror as he continued to work up a head of steam toward his impending meeting with the lady of mystery.
I'm fully aware of that Mrs. Short, but please try to understand my position in this matter. Our plants are suffering drastically because of this oil shortage." Margaret waited by the open door of the bathroom, holding her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "In fact, Drummond and its world-wide network of plastics manufacturers are solely dependent on your oil, or I should say, our oil at this time."
"Is that a fact?" Margaret said, walking into the bathroom.
"What the-" Lonnie said, turning to face her, making sure his nakedness was covered with the towel. He could not have been more startled had he looked into the eyes of his mother's ghost.
"Mr. Wolfe, I'm Margaret Short," she said, offering her hand without the trade of a smile.
Dumbstruck, Lonnie continued to stare at her, unable to speak, unable to move. It was like buck fever only a bit more complex. As the important events of one's life tend to flash through their mind when death seems near, Lonnie's head was filled with X-rated movie footage of all of his sexual encounters with Maggie, both real and imagined.
"Aw," Maggie said, prying the towel out of his hand when she realized that he wasn't going to return her offered handshake, "he doesn't remember me." She sat on the toilet and took Lonnie's cock in her hand. "I wonder if he remembers me."
Playing gently with his balls as they hung down in her hands, she sucked his cock into her mouth, and as it began to grow, he groaned and moved from one foot to the other; but Maggie looked up his stomach at him, and as soon as she fixed her eyes on his, he again became immobile like the subject of a crack hypnotist responding to the command, "Freeze!"
Lonnie could feel everything, he just couldn't move or speak. He could feel the jelly in his knees. He could feel Maggie's electric mouth on his cock, and he could feel the current fan into his system in all directions from his charged prick.
Maggie lapped and licked his cock, sucking it, turning it, twisting it with the familiarity one usually has only when stimulating oneself.
Lonnie's mind was blown out of his head and all the way up to the ceiling, from which vantage point he watched this lovely-looking lady giving him head, and his total fascination was that of a man watching a movie so exciting that he was frozen to the edge of his seat.
This can't be happening, he thought, No way. Ifs a dream, just like the countless daydreams I've had where Maggie has sucked me and fucked me to relieve tension. Maggie's not here, for crissake! She's back in Kansas, married to somebody dull and solid.
Now that his cock was full size in her mouth, Maggie wasted no time. Three more full-shafted sucks and the semen began to pour forth like an erupting fountain.
"Ohhhhh," was Lonnie's quiet, far-away response.
"Mummmm. MUMMMM!" Maggie exclaimed, hitting a hands-free orgasm of her own the moment Lonnie's burning come hit the back of her throat. She came with each swallow, and when he was dry she stood, reached up and kissed rum on the cheek.
"Dinner will be served in twenty minutes, Mr. Wolfe," she said. "Please don't be late."
She left and Lonnie brushed his teeth, making the mental note that he was going to have to see a psychiatrist just as soon as he got back to New York.
Not once during the magnificent chuck wagon dinner served poolside was Lonnie able to look Maggie directly in the eye. Nor was he able to think of her as the same person from whom he had gotten his early sexual experience without spacing out, going to sleep behind the intensity of the energy passing between them.
Luckily there were many distractions. The house for one. The old, three-story, totally renovated mansion stood on the flat open land like a stimulated nipple of a bare breast. He immediately related to the film of Edna Ferber's novel, Giant. The characters were different, but Lonnie had to continually shake off his tendency to be pulled into the belief that he was in another movie being filmed on the Giant's set.
Another distraction was the food. Smoked oysters wrapped in bacon. Aged prime porterhouse steaks. Tender young roasting ears of corn. All cooked inside a large hinged-halved oil drum, from which only whisps of hickory smoke managed to escape. Further away from the pool an open pit had been dug, one large enough to cook three full sides of beef with room to spare for pigs and chickens.
Never had Lonnie's taste buds been exposed to such a succulent symphony. And his nostrils flared like those of a young bull when the drum was opened and the area became flooded with the arresting aroma of charcoal and hickory chips.
Lonnie's most pressing distraction from Maggie's magic came from the presence of Hank Storm. Cal, the oil company executives, and their wives were cordial and pleasant; but Hank spent much of the two-hour dinner meeting with his arms folded tightly across his chest, staring holes through Lonnie as a city tomcat might stare at his owner for having had his balls cut off.
After dinner, Maggie and the gentlemen retired to the library, and a fifteen-minute business meeting was conducted over brandy and Havana cigars. It was an easy open meeting in which general policy decisions were reached, and a realistic production and shipping schedule was agreed upon. Lonnie was greatly relieved by the absence of the negative vibes of Hank, insomuch as oil company business did not concern him, but he still couldn't bring himself to accept the fact that he had known Margaret before that evening.
"What the fuck's the matter with you?" Cal chided Hank as they walked back to the bunkhouse. "If you don't start treatin' Mr. Wolfe with a civil manner, Ms. Short will send you out on the rodeo circuit for good.
You were lookin' at him like a gunfighter with a wild notion up his ass."
"I didn't say nothin'," Hank said, taking large divots out of the perfectly manicured lawn between the two houses with the heaviness of his stride.
"Shit, you didn't have to! You were like a nervous finger on the hair trigger of a shotgun all night, and you had both barrels pointed right at Mr. Wolfe's head, or was it his crotch?"
"I don't like that Yankee son of a bitch, comin' in here and takin' over like he owned the place."
"He does own the place, you knothead!"
"Not this place. Not this dirt I'm standin' on right now. He don't own nothin' here, and I'm here to keep him from gettin' any funny ideas that he does."
"You're about as stupid as a chicken playin' poker. Don't you know that the Lazy S don't produce enough outside revenue to buy toilet paper for this place? When are you gonna git it through you're thick skull that we're nothin' but a country club for Short Oil? Why, that string band I hired tonight cost $500 a pop. We're singin' cowboys, Hank. The old days are gone. Why don't you git your butt in the present tense and leave it there?"
Hank slammed his ass down hard in the porch swing in front of the bunkhouse, a large dormitory-like building which housed the ranch hands and domestic help. It wasn't showy, but quite comfortable; and all the employees were allowed to furnish and decorate their rooms at the ranch's expense and according to their own taste.
"You think this place is cheap to run?" Cal asked, supping onto the swing as he continued to find proper ventilation to the heavy head of steam building up inside Hank. "Why, Ms. Short, and Buck before her, treat us hired help like pampered children sent off to boardin' school. We're toothless old hound dogs who sold out. Might as well sit back and enjoy it. Me and Hilda live like the royal family here. Big five-room apartment inside. Two kids over at S.M.U. with enough money to hobnob with the snobbiest of the snobs. Wake up, son, this ain't the wild west no more. It's ass-kissin' time. No ass-kissin', no easy livin'."
"I ain't sold out," Hank mumbled into his Stetson, which he pulled down over his face as he leaned back in the swing.
"Shit! Talk about talkin' through your hat. A forty-dollar hat at that. Another hundred and a half for them boots. Custom cut clothes. The diamond ring. The platinum watch. Shit, were you to drop dead on this swing, I could git $2,000 in salvage money for you."
"I don't look at it that way."
"'Course you don't. That's cause you're so fuckin' dumb!"
"Ease off, Cal," Hank said, getting close to his bottom line.
"Well, ain'tcha? Look at things the way they are. You buzz around town in that souped-up Caddy-"
"That ain't my car."
"True, but I'd like to see somebody else try to drive it. You pick up all them horny housewives in the city, bring 'em out here under the pretext of bein' safe from their husbands' eyes, pour 'em full of liquor you don't have to pay for, play 'em pretty music on a stereo rig that set the ranch back $900, fuck 'em on that whiteshag mattress you call your carpet, then somehow man age to make it through the rest of the evenin' watchin' Johnny Carson on a 23-inch color TV. You live better'n John Wayne and bank your paycheck to boot. A paycheck, I might point out, that is three times bigger than you'd be gettin' workin' for the biggest commercial spread in Texas."
"Just what the fuck are you drivin' at, anyway?"
"Your future, that's what! You continue to act the way you did tonight and you're gonna be standin' in the welfare line. Hank, you're a good man, the hardest worker I ever seen in iny life. But it's as plain as the nose on your face that you got the hots for Ms. Short, and that ain't gonna git you nothin' but a World of pain and-"
Cal never knew what hit him. He was staring out at the stars as he spoke with his hands down and his chin up when Hank came out from under his hat, planted his feet squarely on the porch floor, and delivered a roundhouse right that all but pulverized Cal's nose. Cal was out cold on the spot; but Hank was so wound up, he straightened the bigger man who was fading off to his right with a vicious left uppercut and caught him with another bone-crushing right cross as Cal was springing forward off the back of the swing. Cal hit the decking with a resounding thud and rolled off the porch and into a bed of zinnias.
Hank had just got the man, some seventy pounds heavier and five inches taller than he, out of the mud and over his shoulders when Cal's wife rushed out on the porch.
"Evenin', Hilda," Hank said with a grin, doing a bit of a balancing act to keep from losing Cal while he tipped his hat. "Cal met with a little accident and I'm gonna carry him over to Doc Sims."
"My God, what happened, Hank?" she asked, squinting to see past the light on the porch.
"Oh, jist fell out of the swing, that's all."
"But all that blood!"
"I think he busted his nose. These things happen when you're blind drunk."
Hank had said the magic word. Hilda's sympathy turned to scorn, and she disappeared back into the bunkhouse without speaking further on the subject.
"How's your father?" Maggie asked Lonnie after the others had left the library. There was no response. Again, Lonnie was like a still photograph. Mouth hanging open slightly. Eyes as vacant as an empty parking lot. She was used to men sometimes repressing the shocking actions and statements she had made, but never before had she watched anyone in the waking state not be cognizant of the fact that she was sitting next to them, especially as close as she was sitting next to Lonnie. His hand turned icy inside hers. Were it not for the fact that he continued to breathe, one would have assumed he was dead and no one had had the common courtesy to reach up and close his eyes.
"Did you enjoy the dinner, Mr. Wolfe?"
"Oh, yes ... yes, very much. It was a marvelous experience. Really delightful."
"Let's go to bed."
"Excellent idea," Lonnie said, yawning. "I've got to catch an early flight to New York."
They walked out of the library, and Lonnie turned to face her at the foot of the stairs leading to his room.
"Thanks again for your marvelous hospitality. Goodnight."
He started up the stairs and Margaret followed him to his door. Again, he stopped, this time taking her hand and shaking it.
"No need for you to get up to see me off in the morning. I'll have Hank take me to the airport. Goodnight."
He opened his door and she followed him inside. Before he could speak again, she closed and latched the door, then put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Several times he tried to melt down to the floor, the consistency of his kneecaps having turned to jelly, but she held him erect and undressed him during the three-minute kiss, then allowed him to fall back onto the water bed when she stooped down and pulled his shorts and trousers down to his ankles.
She took off his shoes and socks and found a soft music station on the radio. There was enough light coming into the room from the bathroom to illuminate the slow, sensuous strip number that followed.
Only Lonnie's eyes moved as Margaret danced around him. He had quickly slid the covers over him and peeked out from under them like a young boy watching his first stag film.
She was a goddess swirling around the room, baring first one breast, then the other. Soon her white Roman-style evening dress was gone completely, and she moved her pussy up and down with her leg and stomach muscles as though she were fucking an invisible dancing partner. She massaged her tits while continuing to rotate and grind her cunt against the imaginary cock, moaning and groaning in an ever-increasing tempo.
As she approached a simulated orgasm, Margaret threw herself onto Lonnie and dry-fucked him, making no attempt to remove the sheet between them.
"Oh, yes, darling, deeper-fuck me deeper!"
What deeper? Lonnie wondered, succumbing once more to the magic of her kiss. What the hell is going on here? Does she really think I'm fucking her?
"Now! Come with me, my love. Give your come to me. Give it ALL TO MEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"
She's out of her fucking mind! I'm not fucking her. At least I don't think I'm fucking her. So confusing. I'm not sure I know anything anymore.
Margaret bucked her cunt against Lonnie's sheeted body a few more times, clung to him like a python, faked a few shudders, then rolled off him and pretended to fall asleep.
"Margaret? Margaret, are you okay?" Lonnie asked, his voice seeming far away. No response. "Margaret, do you think it's a good idea for you to be here like this?" She remained as still as a photograph.
Lonnie came out of hiding as cautiously as a lion might creep from the bush downwind of Stewart Granger. The first touch of the silky golden tresses flowing down her back finished him. His nostrils became flooded with the scent of her and his dick used its own mind to become as hard as a wagon tongue and probed her rump like a Sidewinder missile seeking out the heat source of her ass.
With her face still out of his sight, Margaret grinned broadly for selecting the opossum approach to getting laid and slowly slid her pussy over the head of his cock under the guise of an in-sleep adjustment of her bones.
Lonnie humped her slowly at first, kissing her back and the sides of her ribs and feeling the firmness of her tits and the ultra-soft skin across her belly. Soon he was fucking her in high gear, and she pretended to slowly awaken because of the stimulation from his tongue which was in her right ear. She found his balls with her hand and tickled them as he slammed his meat in and out of her soaking-wet pussy.
"Why did you leave me back in Kansas?" she wanted to know.
"Maggie, this isn't exactly the perfect time and place to play Twenty Questions," he said, kissing her neck as the excitement shooting through his body began releasing sweat through his pores.
"I want to know."
"I had to go get my piece of the pie."
He pulled out as she turned to face him and reentered her, losing no more than two strokes of fucking in the process.
"Were you so busy that you didn't have time to answer my letters?"
"Yes."
"Didn't I please you? Didn't I satisfy you?" she cooed, rolling her hips into their fucking action to assure ultimate penetration.
"Of course you did, princess," he said, all but disappearing again into one of her torrid kisses. "Too much so. When we were together I couldn't think of anything else but you. I couldn't work or study properly. Were this not such a goddam gold-oriented society, I Would have chosen to crawl into your creamy cunt and stay there until all life passed from me. Your pussy holds the mortgage on me when we're fucking. I get lost in the stars I see in your eyes. Was it ten years or ten minutes since we were fused together like this?"
"Ohhhh, I don't know, my love. I just know I've wanted to hurt you for leaving me, and now ... oh, God, that feels good ... now I'm so ravenously hungry for you, all the revenge seems to have taken the day off. Fuck me fast and slow, my darling. Fuck me hard and easy. Fuck me until they throw a net over us and take us off to the zoo."
"Hear the rumble in my balls? Squeeze it out of me, love. Sorry to cut this paradise so short, my precious, but I'm EXPLODING! OH, SHIT, I'M GOOOOOOOONE!!!H!"
"Oh, yes, yes, I feel you SHOOTING IN ARRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!! Don't worry, don't worry, you'll come again, you'll COME AGAIN!!!!!"
And he did. Four more times before the sun sent Lonnie to the showers.
Hank saw Margaret leaving Lonnie's room as he waited to take him to the airport. His palms itched for the butt of his pistol and he wanted to put a bullet between Lonnie's eyes as he descended the staircase, but he didn't The lines were clearly drawn now. He would get his chance when there weren't so many people around. He would bide his time and strike when the opportunity presented itself.
Lonnie enjoyed the comfortable ride to the airport in the early morning light but he didn't like the contrast between his arrival and his exit
"You don't care much for me, do you, Hank?" he asked along the way.
"Why, what ever give you that idea, Mr. Wolfe?"
Hank asked, grinning at Lonnie in his rear-view mirror.
"I don't know. It must be my imagination."
"Must be," Hank said, nodding in agreement.
SIX
The further the 747 flew Lonnie away from Dallas the more acute became his longing to be with Maggie. It was as though there were a long rubber band between them from Lonnie's point of view. It seemed to be attached inside his midsection and every few minutes he felt a pull that made him feel his insides were being ripped out of him.
He tried to drown the pain in Scotch, but the booze couldn't deter the increasing jangle of his nerves. His thoughts of the lovely women waiting for him in New York could not make him feel optimistic about his journey.
"A penny for your thoughts," said a forty-year-old history teacher sitting next to him.
"All right. Where's the penny?"
She produced a coin from her purse and put it in his hand.
"Pick a number between one and ten."
"Six."
"Very good. You have excellent taste. Go to bathroom number six. I'll be along in two or three minutes."
The school teacher looked him dead in the eye for almost a full minute while her brain tried to evaluate the data before her. He was obviously a little boy trying to play a man's role and to comply with his crude request would only result in reassuring him that he was what he thought he was and was not. But, then again, he was most attractive and virile, qualities she admired in many Texans who never asked her to wait for them in bathroom compartments or any compartments for that matter because of the plainness of her face. Then she pretended not to know why he wanted to meet her in the bathroom and took her leave.
She had washed her hands three times before Lonnie entered the tiny bathroom and hung his suit coat on the back of the door.
"Are you a spy?" she asked, adnuring the scent of his aftershave.
"How did you guess?" he asked, sitting on the toilet and reaching under her skirt to play with her pussy.
"Why else would you have me meet you in such a private place? What do you have for me today?"
'Microscopic pictures of all the atomic bomb plants in Monaco. They were injected into my testicles. Now, I must prepare you for the transfer."
He pulled her panties down and off as she steadied herself on his shoulders. Then he took off her skirt in a like manner, licked his fingers and began to manipulate the hairy mound before him, tugging gently at the outer lips while massaging her clit with his thumbs. She closed her eyes and moaned as he entered her cunt with his finger and fucked her with a circular motion.
She opened her blouse and removed her bra; and Lonnie kissed and sucked her nipples on the off-beat, while continuing to dig deeper inside her quivering pussy with his finger on the beat.
"May I have a ... look inside your courier's pouch," she asked, brushing her tits back and forth across his face and ears.
"Be my guest."
She reached down, loosened his belt and unzipped his fly. His cock flopped out, fully erect, and the nervous electricity in her fingers almost made him come the moment she touched him. She fondled his cock and balls gently and her pussy flooded away the friction between his finger and her sensitive vaginal lining.
"Ohhhhhhh," she said, hitting a little orgasm as Lonnie leaned down and caught her clit with the tip of his tongue, "I had no idea this procedure would be so exciting, so very taxing. Oh, well, it's just another curse of a government job."
"Don't fret. It'll all be over soon."
"That's what bothers me," she said, tilting her pussy up against his face. "Yes, yes, the work must be done," she cooed, nearly pulling off the head of his dick when he blew her pussy full of air and lapped her clit like a hungry cat over a bowl of milk.
"Enough, let's get you ready for the transfer," she said, the air whooshing out of her cunt as she stooped to give him head. She sucked his cock too hard to suit him, so he pulled her on top of him and guided his tool into her snapping pussy.
She fucked him so furiously she kept banging his head against the wall behind him. Unable to get her attention, he scooped up her skirt, made a pillow behind his head and hung on for dear life.
They were both soaking wet when the lady began to fall apart at the seams. "Transfer. TRANSFER!" she shouted, hitting her biggest orgasm of the session. "Give it to me. Give it to me! I'll tell your superiors IF YOU DON'T!"
"No, no, don't do that! The little wife and seventeen children will starve. Take it, take it all! I don't even want it ANYMOOOOOORE!"
They dressed in silence and returned to their seats.
About an hour later, the school teacher leaned in to Lonnie's ear and whispered, "A penny for your thoughts."
"Save your money," Lonnie told her with a smile. "My head is empty."
The proxy fight was about as nasty as it could get. Bruce and Jay spread all kinds of unfounded rumors about Lonnie among the representatives of the common stockholders. They blasted Lonnie with everything they had, but when the smoke cleared, Lonnie emerged the newly elected President of Drummond Industries, and Bruce and Jay were out on the street without the first quart of oil.
It had been three weeks of hard gruelling work for Lonnie who managed to keep Maggie out of his mind by throwing himself into the business of getting the Presidency. He talked to her a couple of times on the phone but those conversations left him drained and filled with nervous anxiety.
After the stockholders' meeting, Janette told Lonnie there was a party at the Plaza given in his honor by the employees of Drummond. He didn't want to go, but Janette insisted, as did Glenna, whom Lonnie had chosen to be his personal secretary.
He walked into the Plaza suite that night and found Maggie alone in the elegantly furnished sitting room. He wanted to run away and hide, but Maggie greeted him with a drink and a kiss.
"Hello, stranger, how are you?" she asked, a little puzzled by the coolness of his greeting."
"Can't complain," he answered, then pounded the side of his head. "What's the matter with me? I just can't get used to seeing you. You're so beautiful, I can't believe you're not a dream."
"Can a dream do this?" Maggie asked, kissing him again, this time feeling him return her kiss.
Lonnie spun out of her embrace and collapsed on the sofa. "I give up. Marry me, Maggie. Between the frantic pace of the job and my missing you, I'm falling apart."
"Thanks, but no thanks."
"What? You don't want to marry me?"
"Nope. I'd never know if you wanted me or the Drummond stock."
"What do you want from me?"
"Come in here and I'll tell you."
Lonnie followed her into the bedroom. It was pitch black inside, and as he found the light switch, four voices yelled "Surprise!" in unison, causing him to jump nearly out of his skin.
The two queen-sized beds had been pushed together and Angela, Janette and Glenna were sprawled on it wearing so little Lonnie quickly glanced back at the door, expecting to be raided. Maggie closed the door and slipped out of her dress, then joined the others on the bed stark naked.
"What the hell's going on here?" Lonnie asked, afraid to go near the bed for fear that the women might eat him alive.
"We all decided to get together and work out a plan for your future," Janette said, patting a place on the bed. "Come sit with us."
"You promise you won't hurt me?"
"I promise.", Lonnie peeled off his shirt and tie and crawled onto the big bed. Glenna passed him a joint and he took a hit and passed it onto Angela.
"I guess you're wondering why we asked you here tonight," Maggie said.
"How did you all get to know each other?" Lonnie wanted to know.
"Common business interests," Angela said, smiling. One of her tits fell out of her flimsy baby doll and she didn't bother putting it back in.
"We're in a spot, lover," Janette said, positioning herself behind Lonnie so she could rub his back. "Without a strong president, Drummond will be ripped apart by the competition. I know your ego would like to think that we sided with you over Jay and Bruce because of your lovable charm and good record. Wrong. We wanted you in that office not because we thought you would be the best man, but because we thought you could be a good president. You have potential, but in order for that potential to be realized, you are going to have to channel your energies into the business."
"You're all crazy. I've been channeling my energies into the business ever since I got here."
"I know that's what you think you've been doing," Angela said, working off his shoes and socks. "But the truth of the matter is that you've put everything you've had into fucking the people who could help you with your career. Okay, we've all been beautifully fucked and we've enjoyed every minute of it, but now you've reached the top. Now is the time to stop working on us and start working for Drummond."
"I know that. Don't you think I know that? I'm aware of the responsibilities that go with this job."
"But I don't think you're aware of how much of a distraction your cocksman's ways have become," Maggie said, removing his tie and opening the buttons of his shirt. "We're all creatures of habit, and you've become an habitual rabbit. We're here to help you break that habit. You won't be able to do this job if you go out chasing women every night. You have to have your rest in order to do battle with the competition. We've banded together to protect our interests. We are here to serve you and, in so doing, serve ourselves. I'm moving to New York to be with you."
Lonnie smiled for the first time that evening. "Well, now that I've survived the shock that you all know about each other, lay it to me. What's this meeting all about?"
"We are all going to be available for your every need," Glenna said, removing his pants and shorts with one motion. "Whether you want to fuck, talk, play, make love, whatever; the four of us are going to be on twenty-four-hour call to serve you, to buffer you from the heavy distractions of the job. Think of us as your slaves, or think of all five of us as a team, pulling together instead of pulling against each other."
The women removed their nightwear and soon Lonnie began to sink behind the feeling of forty fingers stroking, massaging, dancing literally over every square inch of his body. With eyes closed tight he theorized that Maggie had his cock in her mouth while Glenna was licking his balls; while, in reality, it was just the other way around. Janette kept his lips busy with hers and sucked his fingers while Angela worked on his toes. He was floating in a sea of tits and pussies. He liked it.
They rotated their charms around his person for almost an hour before Lonnie's moans and groans signaled he was about to conclude.
"Which of us do you want to fuck?" Janette asked.
"Well, now, let me see," Lonnie said playfully, drunk with the power he felt he had over these four lovely women. "I'll fuck you, Glenna. Your tender young pussy should hit the spot right now." She eagerly moved into position, sliding his moist cock into her ready cunt with great ease.
"Maggie," Lonnie barked, playing a tongue-in-cheek Simon Legree, "front and center. I want to eat your magic box. Sit on my face, facing Glenna. Angela, you lick my balls from behind, and Janette, you know how I love your tongue action around my toes."
The women all took their places and fell into a team rhythm. Lonnie delighted in sucking the overhanging skin and clit of Maggie's tasty tenderloin, while Glenna screwed him royally, squeaking when his long shaft touched the limits of her tight pink hole.
This part of their group love-making scene continued at a slow, yet pleasantly exciting vibratory level for about fifteen minutes, until Maggie could no longer resist taking one of Glenna's bountiful boobies between her trembling hands and giving her pinkie-tip-sized nipple head, just as though it were a tiny cock.
Glenna's shock was transmitted to Lonnie via his cock as she clamped her cunt muscles down on the head of his dick so hard he felt the blood rush back toward his balls.
Maggie didn't know why she had done it. She had never felt attracted to another woman before, and her first thought was to give Glenna's beautiful tits a playful peck, more a gesture of friendship than a sexual advance, but once she had Glenna's nipple in her mouth, she realized she liked it.
Glenna wanted to push the loving lady away from her, and her brain sent that message to her arms; but to her own great surprise, she reached around Maggie's back and played with her tits, then nipped lightly at her neck and shoulder.
Janette looked up from Lonnie's toes just in time to see Glenna and Maggie exchange a heavy soul kiss, one in which their tongues entwined around each other like snakes in a dance of passion. Janette's heart began pounding like a jungle drum and she automatically, though she had never touched a woman sexually before, thrust her thumb into Angela's pussy juice from the underside of Lonnie's cock as the opportunity presented itself.
Angela had enjoyed women before so she balked not at Janette invading her privates. On the contrary, she settled over Janette's thumb as a mother hen will fluff down over her eggs and searched for Janette's pussy with her hand.
Janette was lying alongside and reverse to Lonnie. She had to close her eyes when Angela kissed her pussy and dug her clit up with her tongue as one might go after a splinter with a needle, while continuing to tease Lonnie's cock and balls and Glenna's cunt rim and ass with her fingertips and nails.
The heavy electric charge let Lonnie know something new and exciting was happening above him and out of his sight, which was confined to the two cheeks of Maggie's ass. As soon as the women began to pant and thrash about, he quickly realized that that something new was the girls getting it on with each other. He fucked Maggie's cunt and ass intermittently with sharp, deep, hungry thrusts of his tongue, trying to and succeeding in reaching their higher degree of passion.
Glenna traded off with Maggie, sucking her nipples while Maggie found Glenna's ear with her tongue and drove the younger women into a state of exploding frenzy.
Angela slipped her leg over Janette and into the sixty-nine position where the two crazy ladies ate each other with the unreserved dedication of a dieter raiding the icebox at three in the morning. Janette didn't know what she was doing, but Angela chased Janette's moving tongue with her pussy to make the most of Janette's inexperience and ate her out like the pro she at that moment realized she had become.
Neither woman released her attention from Lonnie. He was the earth connection that kept them from flying into the spacious realms they were triggering with their tongues.
Glenna ignited the human chain after about five minutes of the maddening pace. "HEY, EVERYBODY, I'M GOOOOOONE!!!" she shouted, all but passing out in Maggie's arms where her shuddering form was consoled by a motherly embrace.
"AWWWWWWWWWW, YEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!" Maggie screamed as Lonnie's orgasm reached his tongue and was transferred into her cunt as surely and potently as a brand is tranfered to the hide of a calf by a branding iron.
When Lonnie's come backed down his cock, out of Glenna's still-palpitating pussy, and onto Angela's waiting fingers, Angela hummed the news of her orgasm directly into Janette's clit, and the two women continued to suck and tongue-fuck each other long after they had unconsciously rolled off the bed and onto the thickly-carpeted floor.
By the time the two on the floor rolled off one another and back into reality, the other three were at it again; this time Maggie took the bottom side of the triangle, while Glenna took Maggie's preceding position and quickly adjusted to the new experience of being eaten by a woman, and Lonnie played the hypotenuse.
He dorked Maggie from a sitting position with his legs extended under those of Maggie so he would be upright enough to hug, kiss, and excite Glenna's tits, again adding the male vibrations to help soften Glenna's initiation into lesbian sex.
By thinking, for the most part, of the needs of the other two, the three lovers were able to come together and come together. The proof that they could work together in unified action was as clear as the erection on Lonnie's cock, the smile on Glenna's face, and that special satisfaction Maggie always felt when Lonnie was relieved of his semen. This time, her satisfaction Maggie always felt when Lonnie was relieved of his semen. This time, her satisfaction was a degree more satisfying in that she not only could feel Lonnie's come inside her, but had managed to gulp down the traces of his come she vacuumed from Glenna's expanding and contracting pussy.
A frolicsome group shower followed in which any residue of tension was relieved by good-natured play. Janette and Glenna lathered each other and exchanged affectionate hugs for the first time in their lives.
As Angela was drying Lonnie, his cock got hard again without permission, denial of permission, or even much more than passing acknowledgement from his brain until she hungrily worked him to a decision-making point of coming or not coming. Just as he had decided not to press his luck and to continue to save that high honor for Maggie and Maggie alone, Maggie picked up on what was happening and gave Lonnie such a soul-sucking kiss that his mind ran for cover and Angela was able to syphon him off as easily as an overheated teenager can suck up a malt through a straw.
Later, as the five of them snuggled together in the bed, giving sleep a chance to overtake them, Lonnie found himself in a talkative mood. "No. No, this really isn't happening. Come on, what's the catch?"
"What catch?" Glenna mumbled, more asleep than awake.
"The catch. The string. The condition. What must I do to be able to have access to you four lovely creatures?"
"We simply expect you to concentrate on your work. We wish to buffer you from the distraction of having to spend time taking care of your sexual needs," Janette said. "When you want to ball, call one, two, three, or all four of us. We will come to you and serve you as we did tonight."
"And what if I want to sleep with someone else?"
Maggie took his hand and kissed his fingers. "Then we shall have to fire you and install Bruce or Jay in the job."
"I get it. You want exclusive rights to my sex life."
"That's right," Angela said, kissing his ribs from the other side, causing goose flesh to rise on his chest. "That's what we want. That's what we must have. You should be able to bank close to a quarter of a million dollars this year from your salary and stock options. Don't you think it's worth it?"
As Lonnie tried to integrate this new data, Janette crawled up between his legs and drew his cock up into her mouth. As soon as he was ready, she climbed on top of him and Maggie reached over and guided his tool inside Janette.
She fucked him so slowly and the other women kissed and stroked trim so gently, his every nerve ending was so gloriously stimulated, Lonnie felt they had become as one organism.
"Yes; Oh, yes," Lonnie moaned, letting go of all mental control. "It's still too good to be true. I accept. ' I accept. I accept," he repeated until he fell asleep.
Lonnie didn't wake for his last orgasm of the night, but Janette found that final climax a delicious experience, as did the other three women, who got off, without physical stimulation, as soon as she did.
SEVEN
The next four months were the most active of Lonnie's life. He set and maintained a pace rugged enough to kill the average man. There was the world tour, a journey of over 100,000 miles to wherever Drummond had an installation or was opening a new one.
Hank Storm was put on the Drummond payroll as Lonnie's personal bodyguard. Lonnie wasn't too crazy about the idea, in that he distinctly remembered feeling that Hank wanted to kill him in Dallas; but Maggie convinced him that Hank would not harm him, and that nothing short of a company of infantrymen or an even dozen Texas Rangers could match the blasting power of one Hank Storm, Lonnie kidded Hank about the arsenal of weapons he took with him when they traveled, but he no longer joked about Hank's methods after he lived through what The New York Times was to call The Battle of Caracas.
Lonnie went to Venezuela to speak at the opening of a Drummond plant. Hank got to Caracas two days early to meet with the local police and set up security.
Blake Jens, the pilot of the company jet, wanted to take off the moment he touched down at the airport. A crowd of 5,000 anti-American demonstrators pressed against the police lines. Hank was nowhere in sight.
"This is insane," said Angela, whom Lonnie had chosen to travel with him. "You can't walk through that mob! They'll eat you alive!"
"Sure looks like you've got a point, Angela, I'll give Hank thirty minutes to get us out of here. Our not showing face may mean we'll have to scrap the whole project, but I wouldn't face that angry crowd for anything."
Hank showed up driving a red fuel truck and dressed for the part. He slipped Lonnie and Angela through an emergency hatch on the belly of the aircraft while pretending to refuel and drove them on to the hotel.
Hank viewed all traffic coming into the hotel from the balcony of the luxury building. There were two plainclothesmen in the lobby and one stationed at the door of the suite. Lonnie and Angela were bedded down in the back bedroom.
At about four a.m. a 1963 Ford station wagon pulled up to the hotel entrance and seven armed men with nylon stockings pulled down over their faces stormed the lobby.
The night clerk and the two plainclothesmen were killed with silenced weapons. When the elevator door opened on the tenth floor, the uninvited guests were greeted by Hank wearing nothing but his cowboy hat and a submachine gun belching fire.
In the deafening exchange that followed, all seven of the men were killed as was the security man in the hall. Hank was taken to the hospital where four bullets were pried out of his hide and he was given a blood transfusion.
Two hours later he was back at his post ordering lemons, salt and two bottles of tequilla from room service.
"Nice work, tiger," Lonnie told him. "You can carry all the guns you like from now on. Hell, you can drive around in a fucking tank if you want to. Take a look at his."
Hank read the ransom note Lonnie had found on the body of one of the attackers. "Twenty-five million dollars? Shit, is that all they were askin' for you? Why, that's downright insultin'."
Lonnie's speech that afternoon at the Drummond plant was a masterpiece of emotional double-talk and was met with a thunderous standing ovation of twenty minutes' duration.
Four beautiful young women were waiting for Lonnie and Hank when they returned to the hotel. They claimed to be a gift of appreciation from the Venezuelan Government.
Angela locked up a very distraught Lonnie in his bedroom and then played the role of towel girl while Hank made the big sacrifice and fucked all four of them.
On his return to the United States, Lonnie was decorated by Congress for his help in creating better American-Venezuelan relations, but even that high honor wasn't enough to make up for the tears he had shed in that hotel room.
"Glenna?!" Lonnie barked into his intercom.
"Yes?" she answered.
"Where the hell is that messenger?"
"I don't know, Lonnie. You ordered him."
"Shit! I can't count on anything to run smoothly around here! My desk is piled high with this advertising crap that should have gone to Dawson over at the agency. You're supposed to buffer me from this kind of garbage! How the fuck am I supposed to get my own work done if I can't find my fucking desk in my own fucking office?!"
"Lonnie," Glenna said, her tone directed to the purpose of calming him down, "all I can do is send the messenger to you as soon as he comes in. I had a date for lunch which I've already canceled so I will be here to bring the messenger to you by the hand."
"A date! Who did you have a date with?!"
"My aunt, for crissake! Calm down. You've been paranoid as hell these last three weeks. What's the matter with you?"
"I don't know. Boredom, I suppose. As much work as the tour was, it was also exciting. I just haven't acclimated myself to the office routine."
"Here he comes now. I'll send him in and go to lunch."
"Fine."
The messenger was a nervous kid of about sixteen years, wearing a jacket with Acme Messenger Service across the back.
"Where the hell have you been?" Glenna asked.
"I'm ... I'm sorry. The subway broke down for thirty minutes. I was trapped in there. It was just awful."
"Okay, go on in, but just say 'Yes, sir' and 'No, sir'. Don't bait him. He's as mad as a grizzly bear. If you mess with him, he'll eat you alive."
"Yes, ma'am."
The messenger entered the huge office/apartment, which Maggie and Janette had created for him so he could be closer to his work, and stood by the door, shaking from intimidation.
"Come in, come in," Lonnie snapped. "Let me get a good look at you."
The messenger almost tripped twice making the long walk over the largest and one of the most expensive Persian rugs in the world.
"Why were you late?"
"Su ... subway," the kid said, gesturing toward the floor. "Trapped in a breakdown."
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir. You wanna see my driver's license?"
"No, just come around the desk and suck my cock."
"Yes, sir."
Lonnie dropped his pants and sat back on the exquisitely upholstered swivel chair wearing on his face what Anna had labeled his "please me" expression.
With trembling hands, the messenger knelt before Lonnie, picked up his sleeping dick and sucked it Nothing happened.
"Come on, come on, work out! I haven't got all day," Lonnie said, signing a few papers on his desk.
"Hey, give me a break, will ya?"
'What's your problem?"
"You. My boss told me you were one of the most powerful men in the world and that I shouldn't fuck up. I'm scared, mister. You and this whole number are scaring me shitless."
"Good ole Xanthe," Lonnie said, laughing and unbuttoning the messenger's shirt so he could remove the Ace bandage which bound her tits. "Best goddam madam in the world. When you get back, you tell her how much I appreciate all this cloak and dagger stuff."
"Was that your wife outside?" she asked, slipping out of the rest of her clothes. A tiny thing, she had a beautifully proportioned body. Her breasts were perfect hemispheres.
"No, she's just my secretary."
"Oh, I see, and you're afraid she might tell your wife."
"Something like that. Only I'm not afraid. Your discovery would cause a sticky situation, but I'm not afraid of anything." He liked her big brown tremulous eyes and doll-like facial features. "And don't you be afraid. Of me, Xanthe, this whole number, or anything. I won't bite you. You're much too lovely for that."
He leaned down and kissed her. Her nervousness made the kiss most magnetic and as they explored each other's mouths with their tongues, she reached forward and was pleasantly surprised to find his cock as hard as a brick. Her hands still trembled, but now from excitement rather than fear.
"Let's put this number to bed," he said, standing.
"I don't want to let go of you. There's a lot of power coming out of your cock and I like feeling it jump through my fingers."
"Very well," he said with a curt bow, "you may walk me to my bedroom, madam, holding any portion of my anatomy which pleases you.
"You talk funny, too. Oh, I didn't mean that. What I mean is I like you. No, I shouldn't have said that either. Look, my head is spinning and I'm playing this thing by ear, so if I say something I shouldn't, tell me, and if I really get out of line, just reach over and slap the shit out of me. I'm not too bright, but I can understand a good slap now and then."
"I don't want to slap the shit out of you, my pretty pigeon," Lonnie said, removing her cap and running his fingers through her short, curly black locks. "I simply want to fuck your brains out, having just reached the decision that you have more of that commodity than you know."
"Good," she said, her entire body glowing from the blush passing through it as she pointed his cock up in the air like a popsicle and took a long feline lap across the head. "Me, too."
If someone had come in the office as the girl led Lonnie to the bedroom by the cock while he held his loose trousers just over the knee, they would have had to laugh first and ask questions later.
"My godddddddddd, this room is beautifuuuuuuuull," she said on entering his huge bedroom. Where all of Henry's priceless works of art were displayed on the walls, and on tables which were themselves objects of great value.
The lighting system for the paintings, statuary, cascading fountain and bed was versatile enough to blow the mind of an acidhead.
Lonnie would have shushed the girl had she continued talking, but she didn't. She led him to the huge canopied bed which was elevated by a series of carpeted platforms, each smaller than the one it rested upon, giving a pyramid effect.
Once inside the bed and free from his clothes, Lonnie set the lights the way he wanted them and turned on the sound system, and they were totally enveloped in lush romantic music.
The girl spent five minutes covering Lonnie's body with kisses, while keeping him in a state of high excitement by holding the head of his cock and applying just the right amount of pressure to keep his prick ready for action.
Having stimulated a large percentage of his exposed nerve endings, she sucked his cock with more than professional proficiency, taking him deep in her throat while brushing her tits against his ribs. The difference between him and almost all of the tricks she had turned in her brief but glorious career was the fact that she wanted more than money from him. She wanted the power she felt flooding through her from his touch, his mouth and his cock. But she quickly realized that she couldn't feel that energy by simply taking it. She had to open up and send her energies into him before his would be coming back to her.
She ate him slowly, savoring his cock as one would savor a marvelous meal. She had been searching for the cock that she would want to suck the way she was enjoying sucking Lonnie's, and now that she found it, no one and nothing was going to hurry her through the experience. She licked his balls as though they were covered with chocolate, her favorite taste; and she found his navel to be a perfectly enchanting place to jab with her curious tongue.
As Lonnie let go of his layers of anxiety, as he really began to relax, he seemed to shed layers of tough hide as well. His body felt peeled, particularly his cock. Not in a painful way. On the contrary, the sensations he felt were most pleasant; but she seemed to cut away all the invisible walls, barriers, calluses, and obstacles between them.
Lonnie wanted to reciprocate. She lay there lapping his cock across his body at an angle, her feet pointing toward the head of the bed. It was an easy reach to her pussy, which Lonnie found eager for his fingers. Inside her small tight hole, Lonnie explored the hot velvet lining with his middle finger while uncovering her clit with his thumb. Her clit danced up through the muscle, skin and hair like a surfacing deep sea diver, buoyed to the surface by having his suit inflated with too much air.
Not often had Lonnie found a clit so trusting of its environment that it shot out from under its protective hood the way this one did, and he leaned forward and sucked that brave little knot as a reward for it having shown such courage and common sense, while continuing to finger-fuck her gasping cunt.
The girl released a sigh of joy, then began to hum along with the music as her mouth, lips, and tongue played in the recessed division between the head and the rest of his cock. With tiny sucks she stimulated his glans to a maddening degree before his irritation signed her to take his cock back into the rest of her throat.
Placing his hands around her girlish hips, he raised her up and over his face, then slowly let her pussy settle over his upstretched tongue. He fucked her with his tongue in that fashion, raising and lowering her cunt onto and off his tongue which he kept stationary.
When his arms tired, he folded them over her perfectly contoured buttocks and sucked her clit through three hard orgasms.
As the action grew more frisky, the girl sucked Lonnie's tool right up to the edge of coming, then kept him there and flirted with the possibility of his falling over the other side of the mountain. There was no need for them to speak words, because they communicated all necessary data with their bodies. When Lonnie's balls and stomach muscles drew tight, she knew she had to let off pressure; and when his cock lost even one percent of its rigidity, she knew it was time to go back to work, stroking, Licking and sucking his shaft back to go Lonnie glanced at the antique grandmother clock a few feet from the bed. He had less than thirty minutes before Glenna would return and he wanted to spend every precious second fucking this beautiful nymphet's equally beautiful black fur pie. His tongue and finger manipulations had given him enough data to know that a fucking session with this woman, no matter how brief, would be simply delightful.
He stood up on the spacious bed, somehow finding the strength to take her with him without either having to move their mouth from the other's genitals. They continued to eat each other until her face flushed tomato-red and she had to work like a monkey to crawl up him and into an upright position.
She tightened her legs around his hips, then let just enough distance come between their glistening bodies to allow him room to enter her. Lonnie put his prick in the proper place with his hand, then let go so it could seek and find the place to bury itself.
"HOLD IT!" Glenna screamed, rushing through the door and to the bed. "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"
The couple fell apart and bounced on the bed like high-wire aerialists falling into a net after a piece of timing had been broken.
"I knew something wasn't right,' she shouted, climbing the platforms and scampering to a position between them on the bed, "but I couldn't figure out what the hell it was until I was halfway through lunch. It was your hands," she told the girl. "There was a smell coming from your hands that was familiar, distinctive, but I couldn't place. It was the smell of nail polish remover. Now I know unisex is upon us, but nail polish certainly didn't fit the shy messenger boy I met less than an hour ago."
Lonnie wanted to laugh, but he wanted to get back to that pussy more. He reached across Glenna to fondle the girl's tits, but Glenna intercepted his pass and gave his hands a mild slap. "Now stop that!"
"Please, let him finish," said the girl, .imploring Glenna with outstretched arms like a street waif begging for a crust of bread.
"Who are you?" Glenna wanted to know.
"I'm unfulfilled, that's who I am!"
"Glenna, you are not welcome in this room! Now leave! And that's an order!"
The expression of joy on the hooker's face was very short-lived.
"Do you want me to tell Mother? Because if I leave before the child star here, I'll march straight to the phone and tell her."
"Why?!"
"Because you're on the wagon, that's why!"
"Glenna," cooed the girl, "I'm sorry you found us this way, but believe me, nothing that has gone down between your father and me could have anything to do with you or his love for your mother. Why, Mr. Wolfe was just telling me how he adores you and his wife. We're just having a little harmless fun, that's' all. Don't you want your Daddy to have any fun?"
"Yes."
"Then be a good girl and run along. I promise you I'll be back on the sheets within fifteen minutes."
"No!" Glenna shouted, fighting to hold back the laughter which was beginning to rumble inside her. 'If anybody has any fun with Daddy, other than Mother, that person is going to be me!"
With that, Glenna made a sweeping dramatic gesture with her arm toward Lonnie's crotch, picked up his lackluster cock, and sucked it wantonly in the full view of the girl.
The girl looked at Lonnie's prick disappearing and reappearing in and out of Glenna's mouth in shocked disbelief. Then she slowly moved her eyes up to meet the eyes of Lonnie, silently urging him to make a sign which would tell her that she was not seeing what she thought she was seeing. All Lonnie could do was shrug.
The girl screamed and left the room more quickly than Lonnie felt was humanly possible.
"That was a terrible thing to do to that sweet thing," he said, wondering why his cock was responding to her sucking if he was as mad at her as he thought he was.
"She'll get over it," Glenna said, looking up at him longingly, "but will you?"
"I don't know. I want her. I don't like not getting what I want. It makes me nervous. This will probably show up in my work."
"Unless I can take your mine off her. May I have a crack at it?"
Lonnie just sat there sulking with his arms crossed over his chest. Glenna stood and stripped to the music. He hadn't fucked her in a long time and her ripe young form tantalized him into a more receptive mood.
Glenna pulled her hair into a ponytail behind her head and held that pose, straddling Lonnie's legs while continuing to bump and slowly grind her cunt just close enough to his cheek to graze it with her pubic hair. A couple of times Lonnie lapped out at her with his tongue, but she successfully drew back out of his reach both times.
Having teased him enough with her bouncing box and her swaying tits which she swung across his eyes and nose, she slowly sat down on his extended wand and held his head tightly with her fingers under his hair while she kissed and tongued his mouth and ears.
That contact made them both remember the intensity of their previous associations, and Glenna felt a fire burning inside her cunt that she thought should have burned Lonnie's cock to a crips.
"Why do I love you so much, Lonnie?"
"Because you like my prick and the way I operate it."
"That's not true!"
"You mean you don't like my prick?"
"No, of course I like having you inside of me, but I'm not in love with your cock. I'm in love with you. I love being with you, talking, fucking, eating, or just not doing anything but being with you."
Lonnie wanted to fantasize about the pretty young hooker while he was fucking Glenna, but the rap with Glenna made that proposed flight an impossibility. "I still think it's my cock you're after. Your sample is so small you couldn't think beyond that."
"Not anymooooooooore," she sang, twisting her body from side to side in a dance of fucking. "It's been grooooooooowing a lot lately."
"Tell me more," Lonnie said, his smile not reflecting utmost sincerity.
"I've been going out a lot lately, especially while you were away."
"With whom?"
"Men I have allowed to pick me up at Maxwell's Plum. Last Friday, while you were dutifully servicing Mums, I met this absolutely gorgeous young Adonis. He was blond and very muscular." Lonnie drew in about two inches of stomach. "Want to hear more?"
"Sure, maybe I'll learn something."
"Well, he came over to me and we talked nonsense for a while, then he asked me if I'd be interested in seeing some movies he and some of his friends had made. He made it clear that they were porn films, and I said yes. I'd never seen one. I was curious about both the films and what seemed to be the longest cock I had ever seen soft impressing me through the leg of his denims.
"Anyway, we went back to his place, turned on, and he flipped on the projector and turned off the lights. We sat on these large cushions on the floor watching these beautiful California children fucking and sucking in a field of wild flowers. Then Danny came roaring into the movie on a motorcycle dressed up as a cop. Not much of an effort was made by him to try to dissuade the fornicators from their antisocial behavior, mainly due to the girls falling all over him and getting him out of his uniform.
"Well, when this tall redhead pulled off his pants and boots and sucked his cock out of his shorts, I thought I'd faint. Just this tiny head of his prick stuck through his shorts and she kissed it, and it grew a bit larger, and she sucked it, and it got bigger and bigger. It just kept coming out of him like all those handkerchiefs come out of magicians' sleeves. Then others came up and pushed her away and sucked his cock, which seemed about as big as a baseball bat by now. Then they rubbed the giant head of it against their pussies. By that time I was so hot I could feel the perspiration coming out all over me, even though the place was air conditioned, and my cunt was flowing like a open faucet.
"My heart was beating like a schoolgirl getting ready for her first kiss as I nervously unbuttoned his jeans and found his live boa constrictor hiding in there. You want me to change the subject?"
"No, no, it's ... it's turning me on," Lonnie said, feeling something strangely akin to jealousy attacking his nervous system. He rolled Glenna over on her back and fucked her with much more thrust than before. The smooth surfaces of her inner thighs excited his own, and her muscle control was so strong, her pussy made smacking sounds as he fucked her. "Go on. Tell me more."
"I got his pants off and sucked his cock while looking at the film. It was a new high in the effect of mixed media, as far as I was concerned. They did a lot of extreme close-ups of that monster while I was sucking it. It was at least three feet long in the movie, and at one point, four women were sucking it and they still had room for an open camera angle. I worked my ass off trying to get it fully hard, but it wasn't easy. At first I thought it was me and tried harder, but then I realized that fully erect that son of a bitch measured in around fifteen inches and as big around as your wrist. I relaxed because I knew it wasn't my fault. Think about how much blood it takes to fill a hog like that.
"I let him go and sat back to enjoy the movie. I was just sitting there hugging my knees when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, this giant sea serpent makes the turn around my thighs, and when Danny lifted the leg band on my panties, his snake entered from the side, turned left and went right into my cunt like an old friend not bothering to knock.
"He continued fucking me like that for ten or fifteen minutes. Except for his cock in my pussy, neither of us were touching, which would have distracted me from the movie. I was so much into the film and there was so much grass and cock in me that it all became one. To heighten the illusion, Danny moved according to the movie. He fucked the redhead slowly and fucked me slowly. When she came, I came, and I can't tell what a rush that was, like being fucked by the invisible man.
"Then he climbed on this tiny blonde with the cutest, tiniest pussy you can imagine, and he only got the head and about four inches into her, so he drew back and fucked me the same way. She screamed, I screamed. She came, I came. She got off again."
Lonnie had never gotten in touch with his animal lust quite the same way or to the same degree that he did as Glenna continued to spin her yarn about her encounter with the jolly pink giant. All thoughts of gentility went right out the window as he began to pound his meat into Glenna's hair-lined accommodations. He even took to biting her gently on the neck, something he always had considered an inhuman act.
"Oh, yes, my love, fuck me, fuck me!"
"Is there more?"
"What ... oh yes, one more," she panted. "Danny fucked this broad-tailed black girl. Virgo type. You know, Mother Earth. And he really let her have it. He slammed his cock into her frightened cunt so hard I thought he was going to tear her apart, and by that time the dick in my pussy was a granite salami. It was the first time in my life I felt that ... oh, God, that feels good! ... yes, my love, harder, harder! I felt that ... I felt that he was fucking me between the tits from the inside. He was closer now, his legs running under mine, but we still didn't touch except for cock and cunt, and he SLAMMED it into me! Yes, yes, and he SLAMMED it into the black girl, and again, and again, and AGAIN! And we both....AAARRRRRR GGGGGGHHHHHHHH! We both ... OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! I forgot my PLAAAAAAACCCCCCCEEEEEE!!!"
Lonnie came so hard his scream made Glenna's yell seem like nothing more than a healthy moan.
EIGHT
Hank Storm and Maggie lay naked in bed in a Holiday Inn a few miles from Denver. Hank's head was so heavily bandaged he couldn't wear his hat, a situation which depressed him more than he could say. Four empty bottles of Wild Turkey Bourbon lay on the tacky floral-print carpet, and Maggie couldn't escape the alcohol fumes coming out of Hank's perspiration commingling with the stench of his tobacco-based body odor. His breath, sent directly into her face via his snore, was strong enough to wilt a cactus.
For the hundredth time Maggie tried to bite through the leather bulldogging ties Hank used to tie her hands to the bedposts.
She had flown to Denver to watch him perform in a rodeo, something she had often pormised but never done. Always the perfect gentleman, he had introduced her to his rowdy friends, they, of course, having been told in no uncertain terms to keep their hands off her.
Protected as she was, she loved the three days of drinking and singing. All the maleness around her made her frisky. She got off being one of the fellas.
On the last day, she sat ringside wearing the same yellow outfit she had worn for Henry's last stand. The sun dress and big hat made her feel free enough to fly every time she wore it, and this day was no exception.
Hank came out of the shoot on a fierce black mustang snorting dust. He was holding his own when he happened to look up and see Maggie waving and shouting. She looked like a big burst of sunlight to Hank and as he waved back to her, the stallion bucked him several feet up the air. He landed on his head, got up and walked toward Maggie, his vision of her being the last thing he remembered.
The clown tried to divert the attention of the bucking horse, but Hank, being mesmerized by the bright splash of yellow about Maggie's person, walked right behind the animal, which promptly kicked in the side of his head.
When he came to in the hospital, there again was Maggie's lovely face, filled with sympathy for him. The doctor released him into Maggie's care under the condition that she do nothing to upset him.
"Whatever he wants, provided it isn't harmful to him, he must have. Let him drink. Let him sing. Just don't let him drive or do anything that might get him into a fight. A blow, no matter how superficial it may be, could kill him. I'll know more in a couple of weeks. I wouldn't try to take him back to Dallas in this condition, but, for goodness sake, don't worry about him. This is nothing compared to some of the bailing wire jobs I've done on him. He's as tough as they come."
Maggie didn't leave Hank's side for the next three days. He would wake up for nourishment, grin at her like an idiot when she slipped the bedpan under his ass, at which time he would dutifully relieve himself like the good little boy he was, then off again he would go to Lullabye Land.
On the fourth day he woke up as though nothing had happened and related, with joy and gratitude, a dream he'd had in which he and Maggie were married. The only problem was that Hank didn't know it was a dream. He actually thought they had been married and were now on their honeymoon.
He overcame Maggie with affection, taking the liberty of fondling her tits and ass at will. She liked it. It felt good, and having come to know his body well, as all nurses do, she was fascinated with the wonder of how he could continue to live with such a broken body. In short she wanted to make it with him, but she didn't face that. Instead, she returned his affection under the rationale that she was simply following doctor's orders.
Soon after returning his kiss, they were rolling around in each other's arms, drinking bourbon and singing all the choruses of Oh, Promise Me.
I love this beautifully broken body, she said to herself while they were in close quarters. His hips are crooked, his ribs are so badly broken, he looks like a sack of doorknobs, his legs are twisted and bent. The only straight thing he has is this beautiful cock. Mummmmmmm, nice. La la la la la, very nice cock.
Maggie continued to give Hank head, glancing up at his face from time to time to see how he was taking it Hank was enraptured, thrust into a dream state that physically manifested itself in a gray glaze over his eyes. Maggie thought he was dying; but when she released his cock, his eyes quickly cleared and became filled with a sadness that went away only when she went back down on him.
Maggie sucked Hank's cock with loving gentleness and professional expertise for almost an hour before she was overcome by her own needs. She climbed over him and guided his tool inside her ready pussy, then fucked him very carefully, holding her own emotions in check from fear of over-stimulating him into his grave.
Hank seemed to drift further away at first; but about five minutes into the act, he came back bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
"Boy, howdy," was all Hank could think to say as he rested on his elbows, watching their bodies unite as Maggie fucked him from an upright position, slithering over his cock with a degree of sensuality that Hank had never experienced before. Hank had maintained a childhood fantasy in which he fucked a winged angel, and suddenly he saw Maggie sprout long, beautiful, silver-feathered wings. She rose to the top of his cock with a single downward flap of the wings and fell back down taking all of him into her pussy with each upward swing.
After about a dozen such flutters, Hank's engine began to roar and he decided to please Maggie with what he considered to be his best technique. He grabbed her and wrestled her onto her back with all his force. He looked for a trace of fear in her eyes and when he found it, he rammed his cock into her trembling cunt with the explosive thrust of a bolt of lightning.
"Hank, please be careful, you'll hurt yourself!" she shouted, squirming and holding him close to herself to try to limit his working room.
"Hang on, wife, I'm gonna take you someplace you've never seen before."
And hang on she did. He fucked all the controls out of her mind and she rode with him into a place more physical than any into which she had ventured. Devoid of everything except their bodies, they fucked like wild animals, slapping together like mad applause. She bit his shoulder hard and he loved it so much he couldn't bite back. The loss of control frightened her, but she didn't want the incredible physical sensation to stop. She wanted this backwoods jockey to ride her until she dropped.
And ride her he did. For a full hour he pounded her delicate flesh with a lifetime of accumulated lust. Then he snatched his hat from the bedpost, and with sweat flying from their bodies, he beat the side of her ass with his hat and bayed at the ceiling like a coyote.
"A A A WW WWWWWWW WW WW!" Maggie cried in guttural tones as she was leveled by an orgasm so powerful she knew it would be her last of the evening. "That's it! I'm gone! I'm gone!"
"Me too," Hank said, really letting her have it with the hat. "YIIIPPPPPIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!! YAAAAAAHHHHHOQOOOOOO!!"
That was that. They both crashed. Hank woke up in the middle of the night, tied Maggie to the headboard, then crashed again.
Back in New York City, Lonnie was having dinner with Angela at The Golden Swing, a supper club on First Avenue which featured nude girls swinging over the patrons on golden swings. There were twelve girls in all, swinging at different speeds and in different directions. Sometimes it seemed inevitable that they would collide and perhaps fall on their lovely prats, and the crowd loved that expectation; but the girls had all worked as Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall and their high-precision drills left little margin for error.
Lonnie was awestruck by all that naked pulchritude flying overhead, but the experience did not have a good effect on his nervous system. He began to shake less than five minutes into the show, developed a severe tic in his right eye, and found it almost impossible to find his mouth with his food.
"How do they do that?" Angela asked. Each of Lonnie's four women took turns spending each and every night with him, and it was Angela's turn to babysit.
"I don't care how they do it, I'd just like to be waiting for them in their dressing room after the show. They're gorgeous! I sure would like to dork that cute little blonde about twelve o'clock high."
"Now don't upset yourself," Angela said, finishing her lobster with a perplexed expression. "Your sex life is fixed, remember?"
"Yes, I remember, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. For instance, I don't think it's fair for you guys to have other lovers if I can't."
"Tell you what, as soon as one of us takes on our fifth lover, bring it up at a meeting, and I'll back you up."
They continued to watch the showgirls zooming overhead when all of a sudden Angela grabbed her stomach.
"I knew it! Goddammit, I knew there was something wrong with that fucking lobster! Lonnie, I'm poisoned. Get me to the hospital.
Luckily Bellevue was a quick taxi ride from the club, but Angela was a mess by the time they got there. She had tried to throw up several times and failed in spite of the driver's demand to put her out of the cab if she succeeded.
"I'm dying," was all she could say as the white-frocked men helped her into the emergency room. "I'm really dying! This is it! The big finish!"
"Don't worry, my sweet," Lonnie told her. "I'll sue the club for a fortune and maybe a few phone numbers."
"Not funny. What good will the money do me if I'm dead?"
"I'll give you the smartest funeral this town has seen since Henry kicked the bucket."
"Thanks a lot," she said before doubling over in pain.
Lonnie waited for two hours kibitzing with the nurses, one in particular, a beautiful little brunette named Dora, before word was sent to him that Angela was going to be all right, but the doctor wanted her to stay overnight.
Lonnie jumped about four feet off the ground and hugged and kissed Dora like a lover come home from the war.
"Hey, what's so exciting about spending the night in this dump?" Dora wanted to know.
"I'm free! Free until eight o'clock in the morning! Come home with me. I want to make love to you."
"That's very sweet, Mr. Wolfe, but I'm married. You're a most attractive man and the fact that I don't know you doesn't bother me, but I really don't cheat on my husband."
"I can appreciate that. Say five hundred dollars' worth of appreciation?"
"Five hundred dollars?" she blushed, her ego loving the situation. "That's not possible! You're pulling my leg."
"You've got it backwards," Lonnie told her, pulling out a wad of money and peeling off five one-hundred dollar bills. "The money is supposed to make my pulling your leg, among other things, possible." He placed the money in her hand.
"This is crazy! Do you know how many bed pans I have to empty to make this much money?"
"I give up."
"A lot, that's how many!" Her hands shook as she counted the money. "No! No, no, take it from me! I can't! Johnny wouldn't understand at all."
"Why would he need to know?"
"I'd be so guilty, I'd have to tell him."
Lonnie put five more big bills on the pile. "There now, that'll buy so many nice things for good ole Johnny that all that guilt will just fly right out the window."
"You know what?"
"What?"
"You are absolutely right. Let's go."
As much as Dora had vacillated in the hospital, nothing could have stopped her from taking her task in hand the instant the yellow door of the taxi closed behind her. She was all over Lonnie like rain. Facing him, she perched her pert pussy atop his knee, covered his face and head with kisses, and pulled his pudding out of his pants before the echo of his voice giving his address to the driver had died down.
The public airing of his cock both amused and embarrassed Lonnie, but the creamy texture of her thighs at the point where she clung to his knee so excited his fingertips that he didn't have the chance to entertain the notion of covering up. His cock continued to grow and lubricate itself in her hot little palm while he flipped open a couple of blouse buttons and fondled her firm young titties.
"Hey, Mac," questioned the bent cabbie, eyeing Lonnie in his rear-view mirror, "what are you doin' back there?"
"Huddling for warmth."
"That shit don't go in this cab."
"Shut up and drive."
The driver hit the brake and the ensuing screech so startled Lonnie that he almost bit off Dora's nipple and nearly came off in her hand.
"Out!" barked the cabbie.
"Fuck you, fuck you!" Lonnie said, digging a five-dollar bill out of his pocket, wadding it up, and throwing it through the open window in the glass partition separating them from the driver. "That'll give you a $3.80 tip for this five-minute haul, bandit, so either hand it back to me or shut your cocksucking face and drive!"
The driver fished the bill off his dash board and continued the trip without a word, doubly pleased at himself for breaking the flow of feeling between his two passengers and getting a big tip to boot.
But the interruption was short lived. Dora was back at Lonnie's fly as soon as they stepped into the elevator in the Drummond building, and she was on her knees sucking his cock stiff for the last twenty floors of the ride.
In what for Lonnie was a gesture of extreme heroics, he swept the anxious lady off her feet and carried her to bed. While she undressed him, he played with the toys in the bed's headboard. Again, the lights. Again, the music. A gin and tonic for the lady. A Scotch and soda for himself. She took a sip and let it warm in her mouth before applying it to his strutting cock.
Lonnie took a big gulp from his drink and relaxed for the first time that night. "Oh, my, yes, Beefeaters outdistances Tanquery in the cock-tingling department every time."
He fingered his way under her white skirt, stopping to enjoy the lushness of her inner thighs once more before pulling off her panties and finger-fucking her through that first orgasm one must get out of the way before anything really interesting can happen.
Dora held just the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked gently upon it while teasing his balls into a state of withdrawal with just the tips of her nails. Lonnie looked at Dora's face objectively for the first time. She had a lovely face which she abused with too much makeup, but that was okay. She wore cheap perfume, but that wasn't important. What got his attention and held it favorably was the feeling he got from her that told him this was a woman who really enjoyed being a woman. Simple. Unconfused by the intricate inner workings of human relationships which confused the hell out of Lonnie.
But then Dimpled Dora removed her blouse, exposing a pair of tits so pleasant to his eyes that they blinded his objective view.
Lonnie was reaching out to capture one of those succulent orbs when the phone rang, jangling his tender nerves so badly he almost came out of his skin. He stared at the phone with contempt for three rings, then his mood became light again.
"That's Angela. At death's door, but still together enough to make a bed check. Some broad, that Angela. Be extra quiet." He picked up the phone. "Hello."
"Lonnie," Maggie said on the other end, "I'm in Room 343 in the Holiday Inn in Denver. Hank suffered a concussion that really fucked up his head. You've got to help me."
"Sure, Maggie, what do you need?" he asked, gesturing wildly for Dora to attend to his drooping cock.
"You," she whispered. "I need you. Here. Right now."
"Well, I'll get there as soon as I can. Say noon, tomorrow?"
"No. Now. Hank is sleeping, but he's got me tied to the bed. I had to lift the receiver with my feet. If you don't get here before he wakes up, he might ... well, anything could happen."
"Stay calm. I'll be there before dawn. Goodbye."
"Hurry."
He hung up and dialed his pilot. "Work out, Dora! You've got to get me off! I've got to have my nerves back!"
"I'm trying," she said, working him over with the seriousness of a lifeguard massaging a drowning man. "Honestly, I am."
"Hello, Blake? Lon Wolfe. Emergency trip to Denver. Can you get the Lear fired up in thirty minutes ... No, no, the little one. No time to round up the crew
... Good man. See you." He started to replace the phone. "Wait, Blake, you still there? ... Where is it-Kennedy or LaGuardia? Right."
He hung up and pulled Dora up close enough to kiss her. "Do it to me, baby. Suspend your imagination. I'm Johnny. I'm your father if you ever wanted to fuck him. Just get me off. I've got a big job ahead of me tonight, and if I don't blow off the tension, I'll just be an accident looking for someplace to happen!"
Dora did what she was told. She directed all of her energies toward the single purpose of pleasing him, but Lonnie came up empty.
Lonnie panicked. The tic returned to his eye. He began to shake like an alcoholic at a temperance meeting. He closed his eyes and ran through his repertoire of fantasies. None of the stag films turned him on.
"What the fuck is this? Come on, fantasies, bail me out!" Again, nothing. "Oh, shit! Ooooohhhhhhh, shit! I've lived them all out. Stupid, stupid! Dumb shit that I am, I forgot to add on new ones as I put the old ones in the street."
"What in the world are you talking about?" Dora asked, inching away from him.
"My head! Can't you see? My head is filled with empty ice trays!"
"Empty ice trays?"
"Come on, let's go. Maybe something will happen on the way to the airport."
They dressed and Lonnie called the garage to send over the Mercedes. He dismissed the driver and ran four lights before he got to the Midtown Tunnel.
Dora gave him head all the way to Kennedy. At one curved section of the expressway when Lonnie pushed the car to 120 m.p.h., Dora detected a whisper of life in his cock, but it left as quickly as it appeared.
"Thanks for trying, kid," he told her as they walked briskly toward the plane.
"Will you call me when you get back?"
"Maybe," he answered bluntly, eyeing her with mistrust.
"No, no, I don't mean what you're thinking. I want to see you once more. Just once. I'm a very conscientious person. If you won't see me again, I'll have to give you back the money."
That melted Lonnie. He stopped and embraced her. "I won't take it."
"Then III just put it in your car and you'll never see me again."
"Goodnight, pretty flower," he said, kissing her tenderly. "I'll call you."
"Good. Another day. Perhaps another place. Well make music together, you and I, I promise."
"You're on," Lonnie said, managing a big grin. "And until then, I'll fantasize about it."
She watched the small jet take off and disappear. Feeling as light as the wind itself, she floated back to the Mercedes and sat in it a few minutes, inhaling the deep, rich aroma of the leather and tracing the impression left by Lonnie's head in the head rest.
She returned to New York City by cab, not thinking that the driver would soon be going into cardiac arrest when she handed him a hundred-dollar bill.
NINE
Armed with phony F.B.I, identification cards and concealed weapons, Lonnie and Blake got the cooperation and the key to Room 343 from the frightened but friendly folks of the Holiday Inn just as the first light of day dawned in Denver.
His .38 Police Special wavered in his hand and almost dropped to the floor on account of the sweat in his palm as Lonnie opened the door to Hank's room.
Hank and Maggie lay asleep as they crept inside, and they nearly choked and blinded by the alcohol fumes coming from Hank's pores, lungs and stomach. Blake stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes fell on Maggie's naked form. He, like so many others, had been smitten by this lady's easy charms their past few meetings, and he kept telling himself he must help Lonnie all the time his eyes remained fixed upon her tits and pussy. To make matters worse, her body language in sleep was open to a most immodest degree.
Lonnie glanced back at the statue of Blake standing just inside the door, frozen, with his eyes nearly popping from their sockets, and his chin nearly resting on his chest. Lonnie instantly realized the root causes of Blake's problem and he quickly covered Maggie with a sheet that had fallen to the floor.
Then he and Blake quickly moved into action. Lonnie held Maggie's mouth firmly until he was convinced that she was awake to the degree that she wouldn't scream. They untied her hands, and while she dressed and gathered her belongings, they stood over Hank with guns drawn, fully prepared to empty their contents into that compact tornado should he show the first sign of hostility. The thought of overkill never entered their minds. They knew Hank too well to entertain such notions.
Blake escorted Maggie to the room across the hall, which they had booked when they coerced the night clerk out of the key to Hank's room.
When he rejoined Lonnie, Blake handcuffed Hank's hands to the lathed pieces of wood spaced across the headboard of the bed while Lonnie used the leather thongs to tie his feet to the foot posts.
Lonnie then went to Maggie's new room. Blake went for coffee. Maggie was hysterical and Lonnie gave her solace until the details of her encounter with Hank came out.
"You fool!" he said, unable to touch her. "How could you do that? You know what an animal Hank is, for crissake! Fucking someone like Hank when you know how totally smitten he is with you is ... is ... well, it's sodomy, that's what it is! It's Fay Wray giving King Kong head on top of the Empire State Building!"
"I didn't do it for myself, Lonnie. The doctor said he must be kept calm and comfortable, and balling him seemed to be the thing to do at the time."
"Bullshit! You played Florence Nightingale for three days, got bored washing his cock and decided to suck it for a while. At that point, the motor in your cunt turned on and you let him fuck you into oblivion! All in the name of serving humanity!"
"You don't know what he was like. He was as playful as a kitten. No one in this world has ever shown me the respect and loyalty Hank has. How could I know he'd turn on me like that? What I did may very well have saved his life."
"That's conjecture! The fact remains that your actions very nearly cost him his life. Had he looked at us cross-eyed awhile ago, Blake and I would have blown his head off."
"That's silly."
"Silly?! Don't you have eyes?! Don't you read the newspapers?! That man in there is the kind of guy who gives mass murderers a bad name!"
"You're just jealous!"
"And you're full of shit!"
"Nobody tells me who I can fuck and who I can't! I don't like it!"
Lonnie burned holes in her eyes for a full ten seconds. "And I don't either," he said, calm and firm. His eyes were bloodshot almost beyond recognition and the bags under them were black. There was no energy left in him.
"You're just upset. When we get back to New York, everything will be all right. I love you. You know that."
"Maybe, but I can assure you of one thing, madam, it doesn't impress me. Not a whit." Maggie got off the bed and slowly walked to Lonnie, who stood, teetering mid-room. She released the sheet and let it slither to the floor. "You're tired, my prince," she said, wearing the face of a love goddess. "Hold me. Let me fill you up with my energy."
Lonnie looked at the lovely creature standing before him with outstretched arms, looking imploring into his eyes.
"Go fuck yourself," he said, turning on his heel and walking to a chair.
At that moment, Blake walked in, saw Maggie looking very much as though she were reaching out to him, tripped, and flooded the room with coffee.
Lonnie and Maggie ignored Blake who kept apologizing all over the place. "Go home with Blake," Lonnie said. "I'll patch things up with Hank. I'll make him believe you were only a dream, something I am quickly starting to believe myself."
"You're being overdramatic, Lonnie. And don't sell me short. I could have handled Hank all by myself, without any help from you, thank you."
Lonnie went off the handle. "Then why the fuck didn't you do just that, cocksucker?! You called me out of the sack where I was about to score with as cute a piece of ass as-" Lonnie desperately wished he could have reached out and pulled the words back into his mouth.
As the slow burn manifested itself on Maggie's face, Lonnie threw up a futile gesture of a goodbye wave, showed a grin which did little to cover the fear behind it, and yanked open the door. "Well, I gotta go now. See you later."
"COME BACK HERE!" Maggie screamed as he left.
He beat it across the hall, entered Hank's room, and breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him, somewhat secure in the knowledge that this would be the last door on Earth that she would open.
Hank was awake and fighting mad. "What is this shit?!" he wanted to know. "Am I gonna have to rip this fuckin' bed apart?!"
"Take it easy, Hank. You've been flying around in outer space for the past four days. Sorry I had to tie you up, but you know how physical you can get. I didn't want you to hurt yourself. Or me, for that matter."
"Where's Maggie? Where's my wife?"
"Let me answer those questions one at a time. Maggie's back in New York, and I didn't know you were married."
"I'm married to her, Maggie, didn't you know that?"
Lonnie shook his head and laughed. "Not only didn't I know it, but I don't believe it."
"Well, you better get used to the idea that she ain't your girl anymore. I'll even fight you for her if that's what you want. Turn me loose. Nobody ties up Hank Storm. For no reason!"
"Now, now, stout fella, hold your horses. I'm not interested in fighting you for Maggie. We're dear friends, but she doesn't belong to me. If indeed you are married, let me be the first to congratulate you. But before I do that, how about answering a few questions? For instance, where were you married?"
"Right here in Denver. Where else?"
"By whom?"
Hank's eyes became very vacant for a moment. "I don't remember. But shit, I don't remember hardly nofhin' since that mustang kicked me m the head, so that don't mean nothin'.", "Funny how you can remember being kicked in the head but you don't remember saying 'I do'. To my knowledge you've never said those words before, Hank. That must have been a big moment in your life. Tell me, where did it happen?"
"Let's see, now. Must've been in the hospital. Had to have been sometime between then and now. I remember wakin' up once and see in' Maggie standin' there."
"Maggie was never in the hospital."
"You're full of pig shit, mister! Why, that woman has nursed me through this whole thing."
"No, she didn't, Hank, I did."
"You did? But you jist got here."
"No, Hank, you jist got here. Your body's been here for four days, but your head is just now arriving."
"Hey, Lon, untie me. I can't think like this."
"In a minute. The last time you saw Maggie was at the rodeo. You were staggering over to her when that wild stallion nearly kicked your head off. She called me, and I flew right out. You never saw her after the rodeo."
"Then who the fuck was here?!"
"Me. I'm your nurse, kid. You don't think I'd let you down after the way you saved me down in South America, do you?"
"Noooooo way. That's crazy. You're fuckin' with my head." Hank strained against the cuffs and leather bindings. "And if you don't turn me loose, I'll turn this place into a disaster area!"
"Who married you, Hank?" Lonnie asked, standing right over him. "What did he look like? Where's the marriage certificate? How about the blood test?"
"I don't know, I don't know, stop askin' me questions I don't know the answers to! I do know this-we spent our honeymoon right in this bed. The sex was so good it was like something from another world."
"Hank, we're going to keep going over this until you get it right. You were so delirious you kept calling me Maggie and I had to wrestle you to keep you from hurting yourself. At one point you even grabbed your hat off the bedpost, beat my legs with it, and then started howling at the moon like a wild dog. It was so crazy, I had to tie you to the bed. Even then, you kept kicking me so violently that I had to get the police in here to handcuff you."
"You're lyin' to me! I don't know why, but you're fuckin' lyin' to me!"
"All right," Lonnie said, sitting on the edge of the bed between Hank and the phone, which he picked up, but held the receiver button down out of Hank's view, "we'll settle this once and for all. Hello, operator, connect me with the Plaza Hotel in New York City. Yeah, I'll hold. Hank, I hope you can see the spot I'm in. I want to take those cuffs off you, but I really can't until you get a clearer picture of what went on here last night." He released the button, and the operator answered. "Yes, operator, connect me with room 344." Maggie answered. "Hello, sweetheart, how was your trip?"
"You miserable cocksucker! You've got to come out of that room sometime, and when you do I'm going to cut off your cock and feed it to you!"
"Why, that's marvelous, love. You know I feel the same way. How are things there in New York?"
"What the fuck are you trying to say, worm?"
"Fine, fine. Look, uh ... Maggie, Hank wants to talk to you. I'm going to put him on now." He put the receiver in Hank's hand.
"Hello, Margaret?"
"Yes, Hank, how are you feeling this morning?"
"Better, I guess. Tell me somethin', uh ... did you spend the night here last night?"
"No, I've been here in New York since the day of the rodeo."
"Oh ... oh, I see. I had a dream that was so real I woke up this mornin' believin' it."
"What kind of dream, Hank?"
"Oh, I won't go into it now. I jist needed to know for sure that it didn't happen."
"When do you think you can get back to the ranch?"
"Right now. Will you be down soon?"
"First of the week."
"Good, good. See you then." He handed the phone back to Lonnie.
"And I'll see you tonight, my love."
"Did he buy it?"
"Yes, yes, and the same to you. Bye."
Convinced that Hank was all right, Lonnie took off the cuffs and leather ties. Hank stood up, wavered a bit, then reached out and gave Lonnie a very warm hug. Lonnie flinched at first, but then hugged him back. "Hey, what was that for?"
"For takin' such good care of me. I really sincerely appreciate everythin' you've done, which has absolutely nothin' to do with this, a little somefhin' I want to lay on you for tyin' me up."
Hank uncranked a right hand all the way from the floor which exploded in the midst of Lonnie's smile, catching him perfeofly flush and laying him down and out across the bed.
Then he made a phone call and a man answered. "Doc Hogan, please."
"Speaking."
"Hey, Doc, Hank Storm. Look, I'm headed back to Dallas, but the pain is still pretty strong. Can I drop in and get a refill on the narcotic you used on me?"
"Sure, Hank."
"What was it?"
"My own concoction. A little of this and a little of that."
"Can you make it exactly that way again?"
"Sure, why?"
"Hang tight, Doc, I'm comin' right over. I think we can make a fortune on that stuff."
Back in New York, Lonnie avoided Maggie's wrath by throwing himself into his work. When one of the other women approached him sexually, he could not respond, and his nervous condition grew steadily worse over the next few weeks. He lost thirty pounds he didn't have to spare, he broke out in hives at regular intervals, and his eyes seemed to be trying to disappear behind their hollow sockets.
Realizing that the tension in him was so heavy he was right on the brink of a breakdown, Glenna took Lonnie to her mother's house on Long Island for a little R and R.
There Lonnie spent four days being a vegetable. Glenna and Janette fed him and bathed him. They put him in the swimming pool and he almost drowned. They got him on the tennis court, and he simply stood there holding his racket at his side as the balls whizzed by him.
The only sign of life he had shown had been at dinner the first evening. Lila, their slim beautiful cook, a native of Jamaica, whose cocoa-colored skin quickened the pulses of every man or woman who saw her, served them in the formal dining room, and Lonnie came out of his blue funk. He conversed with them quite rationally, even making light inferences that the three of them should do a number together. He was the same old Lonnie for a time, charming, warm, entertaining. As soon as the women hit a peak of laughter, he excused himself to go to the bathroom; and they thought nothing of it until they heard Lila scream and then the crashing of dishes and pans.
By the time the women reached the pantry, Lonnie had ripped off almost all of the poor frightened girl's clothes and was trying to fuck her standing up in the corner.
He had dropped all of his own clothes in a line which led from the dining room door, across the big country kitchen, and right up to the pantry door. There he had deposited his last articles, his socks, had entered the pantry behind a roaring hard on, and had surprised the girl who was standing on a step stool on her tip toes trying to push a twenty-five pound bag of flour onto the top shelf. Her straining to place the bag accentuated the long sleek muscles of her fauldess legs and the plump mound of her pussy was clearly out-lined for Lonnie by her sheer pink panties under her black miniskirt.
Lonnie had yanked her panties off and was about to dork her from behind when she retaliated by crowning him with the bag of flour and every pan within reach. Unaffected by her defense, he came at her like a great white ghost and had uncovered her beautiful tits with their upturned nipples when she brained him with a five-pound can of peaches.
After taking one step backwards, Lonnie came at her again, receiving kicks, bites, and scratches which he had accepted without comment.
"Help me, help me!" the girl screamed to Janette and Glenna standing in the doorway, dumbstruck by the scene being carried out before them.
Lonnie forced his dick into her trembling pussy and was going for broke when the women tried to pull him off her.
"Stop him! Help me! He's raping me!" Lila screamed, unable to account for the fact that her pussy was gushing juice. Lonnie got in an extra six strokes because Lila clung to him with a death-like grip while Janette and Glenna tried to separate them.
Lonnie offered little resistance after that. He fell into a deep silence which was to continue for the remainder of his stay. Lila was spirited off to a neighbor's house for her own protection. Her only real concern was for Lonnie and the physical harm she had caused him.
It was the night of the third day when Janette and Glenna pulled out every stop in their effort to seduce' Lonnie back to reality.
He was fed, run through the sauna, showered and powdered like a baby prince before being taken to bed.
There Janette and Glenna spent a full hour licking, kissing and massaging every square inch of his body, their stimulation having no visible effect on him.
Both women tried sucking his cock at the same time, and though the heat of their passion failed to awaken Lonnie's lifeless dork, they accidentally kissed one another and were off to see the wizard.
Glenna took the first shift at the helm, sucking her mother's pussy with a kind of vigor she had never displayed before. She and Janette were of one mind for the first time in their lives, and when Glenna lapped her mother to orgasm, she herself got off as completely as she would have had someone been fucking her.
Janette was preoccupied with Glenna's tits for a good thirty minutes when her turn at bat came. Then she tongued her way slowly down Glenna's stomach and proceeded to eat her daughter as though her pussy were a royal box lunch.
"Oh, yes, Mother," Glenna moaned, being hit by one big O right after the other, "suck me! Make it happen! I love it, I love it, I love it! Oh, Lonnie, look what she's doing! She's loving me with her mouth and it feels so marvelous I-"
Lonnie was gone.
The women scampered naked all over the house, alerting the servants to lock up their women and help them find him.
The search ended successfully with Glenna finding Lonnie in her room trying on her underwear and nightgowns. After a quick huddle with Janette, it was decided that Lonnie might need a bit of medical attention. Maggie was reached on the telephone and agreed with them wholeheartedly.
"How do you feel this morning?" asked the white-frocked lady standing over Lonnie's bed in Greenbriar's Sanitarium, the local drunk tank for affluent alcoholics.
"Couldn't be better," Lonnie said, undressing her with his eyes, even though she was past fifty. Not an unattractive woman, she had the soft gentle face one would automatically associate with the Mona Lisa.
"I'm Doctor Crowder. They tell me you haven't spoken in three days."
"Haven't had anything to say until now," Lonnie said, spotting the bars on the windows which they tried to hide with ivy. "Tell me, Doctor, do you fool around?"
"Now, now, Mr. Wolfe, well have none of that. I'm only here to help you with your problem."
Lonnie pulled back the sheet to offer her a place to lie down, exposing his nakedness as he did. "Then hop in, because my problem is simply the fact that I've had none of that, as you put it. I'm blocked. I'm closed up. I'm sexually frustrated. I need human contact, and if I don't get it, I may turn this place into a garage."
"No, no, that's not your problem at all. You're suffering from near total exhaustion, from overwork. You need rest, peace, quiet, but you certainly don't need sex, and certainly not with a woman as matronly as I."
"All right," he said, patting the space beside him, "then just sit with me and hold my hand. I need some reassurance that I'm alive. I need to touch another human being."
"I'm sorry, but that's out of the question. How long has it been since you have had human contact?" Lonnie just stared at her like a little boy being confined to his room by Ms mother. "How long have you felt inhuman?" Still no reply.
She sat on the bed facing him, and Lonnie put his hand on her knee very casually. "Doctor Crowder, I'm being held captive by four women! You've got to help me! Somebody has to help me! If I don't start feeling again I'm certain I'll put my lights out!"
"Now, now, Mr. Wolfe, you must put those thoughts out of your mind. We here at Greenbriar's will help you find a way to cope."
"If I could only believe that, Doctor," Lonnie said, the back of one hand against his forehead while the fingers on the other slowly danced under her smock. "I'm afraid all hope is gone. There is no place for me to turn."
I'm sure it can't be that bad," she said, covering his enlarging cock with the sheet. "Sometimes we go off into a dark place and can't get back by ourselves."
"What marvelous insight you have, Doctor. That's it exactly. I made a pact with four devilish women. I agreed to let them control my life sexually in exchange for money, power, and prestige. Because of my greed I became Faustus, and now I'm paying for it with my immortal soul." Lonnie made the trip from the good doctor's knee, through the side of her panties, and into her pussy as imperceptible as possible. She continued taking notes as though nothing was going on. "To feel again. To know that I have value to someone as a human being and not a side of beef which one dresses and hangs in a cooler to devour at one's leisure. To feel and be felt just once would snap me back to normalcy. To reach out!" he said, most dramatically, plumbing the depth of her cunt with his middle finger as he did. "To touch another human being! To be touched by them!" Again he illustrated what he was saying by taking the hand with which she was holding the clipboard and placing it atop his now full erection. She continued to write on the board now resting on her knee at a quicker pace. She held on to his cock tightly, cementing the circuit which ran from her cunt, through his hand and arm, to his cock, through her hand and arm, and back down to her cunt.
"There are ... there are certain cases that come to me which can't be handled in the ... the usual way, Mr. Wolfe. I'm now convinced that yours is one of those cases." As she spoke she never took her eyes off the clipboard. But Lonnie worked his wet fingers over her clit so well, her eyes started to close and open as though getting ready to slip into deep sleep. He pulled the sheet back again and replaced her hand on the oak tree which was sprouting out of his groin.
"What kind of treatment do you have in mind, Doctor?"
"Massage. Lot's of massage. You must ... you must be reawakened because that problem is pressing your mind to such a ... a great degree that...." She stopped speaking altogether for a moment, stole a quick glance at the granite muscle in her hand, then focused her attentions back on the clipboard. " ... that you must have stimulation before we can ... can even discuss your problem." With that, the pen and clipboard slipped from her lap and onto the floor and she fell over his cock and sucked it with the zeal of a teenager experiencing her first rush of nymphomania.
Lonnie unbuttoned her dress all the way up the front, loosened her bra and found great maternal solace from fondling her tits.
She continued to lick and suck his cock with vigor, and she pouted a bit when Lonnie withdrew from her mouth to position himself to fuck her, but her squeal of delight when he entered her completely erased her withdrawal symptoms.
Knowing that no one had fucked her in years, he rammed his way inside her, banging her through three quick orgasms before relaxing to let some of the stimulation come back his way.
She had never appreciated anything so much in her life and showed him her appreciation by flooding him with her energies and attentions after she reached a state of relative calm. She kissed his throat and ears and neck while adjusting her pussy to accommodate his needs. Lonnie was feeling again, and a shudder passed over him as he opened up to let the feeling flow past the crust he had had over his body.
They fucked for almost an hour before Lonnie mounted the drive which they both knew would be the final consummation of the act. He was there. Right there. Inches away from the relief that had been denied him the past few weeks. He looked down into the older woman's eyes through the haze in his own and saw one of the most beautiful women he had ever experienced. Then he opened that final flood gate to let the collected frustration come rushing out of his balls.
"DOCTOR CROWDER! GET OUT OF THAT BED!" Angela screamed from the door.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO, GODDDDDDDD, NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Lonnie reacted. "Not this time! Not this time! Not on your fucking life!" Lonnie shouted, pounding furiously toward his orgasm, scaring the woman under him with his force. "NO, NO, NO!"
Angela overturned a vase of roses and water above Lonnie's head and he collapsed on top of the doctor, who quickly rolled him off her and scampered out of the room.
Angela propped Lonnie up in the bed. He wasn't asleep. His eyes were open, but he seemed to be in a comatose state. "Lonnie Wolfe, I've never seen anything so disgusting in my life," she continued to chide him. "Why, that woman is old enough to be your mother! What the fuck has happened to your head that you would stoop to such a disgustingly low place? We've told you we will take care of your sexual needs just to keep you out of this very thing! Hey, you fuck, where's your head at?"
Lonnie watched her lips as she spoke, but he never heard a single word. When she had posed her final question, he blinked a couple of times, then began to topple off to his right.
Angela made an effort to catch him, but that failed and he fell face first onto the hard tile floor, looked back up at Angela's terror-stricken face hanging over the side of the bed, and passed out.
It was two days before Maggie could be reached and summoned to Greenbriar's. When she entered the sanatarium, Angela, Glenna and Janette were keeping vigil in the waiting room. There they told him that Lonnie was hanging on by a thread. He was in a deep coma, and his pulse and heartbeat were barely strong enough to keep him alive.
"Don't let anybody disturb us," she told the others, leaving them to join Lonnie. "I'll have him back at his desk by tomorrow morning."
Maggie went in and dismissed the male nurse who monitored the bank of electronic equipment which monitored Lonnie's vital functions.
She undressed and crawled in beside him, pressing her full front against his back so as much contact as possible was made between them. She rolled her tits against his shoulder blades and when her nipples hardened she drew invisible pictures with them across his back. She kissed the back of his neck and ears while massaging his arms, temples, and skull with her hands. She stimulated his ass with a rotating motion of cunt and hips. Her legs pressed and brushed against the back of his, and she even held his toes with her own as one would hold another's hand.
Lonnie stirred. Maggie grinned broadly and uped the tempo of her stimulation, glancing at the monitors and noting their increased activity.
After a few more minutes of grinding ,touching, kissing, even light biting, she reached around and fondled his cock. A whoosh of air escaped from Lonnie and his cock withdrew as though it were trying to disappear into his ball sac.
"You can run," she sang softly in his ear, "but you can't hide." She licked her fingers and slowly coaxed his dick out of hiding.
It was about half-hard when she turned him over onto his back and gave him head, sucking and drawing his cock to full erection while lightly pinching his stomach and teasing his chest with just the tips of her fingernails.
She was on top of him, fucking him gently, when he opened his eyes, realized what was happening, then slammed his eyes shut again like doomsday's break.
Nothing could be done by this time. He imagined every conceivable holocost in his feeble efforts to lose his erection.
There were fires, floods, tornadoes, and sliding down razor-sharp banisters. He even imagined himself swimming in the Artie Ocean amid towering icebergs with barracudas snapping at his naked ass. Nothing worked. She had him by the balls and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He tried keeping his lips and teeth clenched shut when she explored his mouth with her tongue, but those defenses didn't hold either; and her electric tongue triggered an explosion of the repressed feelings hiding in the deepest recesses of his guts.
"Welllllllll," Lonnie said philosophically, looking her squarely in the eye, "might as well go out like a man."
He threw her over on her back and tried to take charge by fucking her at his own tempo, one half-loving, half-angry; but Maggie controlled even that by holding him at will with the vise-like grip of her cunt muscles to break the rhythm he was trying to establish.
"I don't like this, Maggie. I don't like this at all. But shit, it feels so fucking good, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. You've got my number, kid. You're no fucking good and you've got my number. Let me go. Please, let me go."
"Someday, maybe," she teased, fucking him toward orgasm. "When I feel like it. When I'm finished with you."
"Cunt! Evil fucking cunt! I've got to break away!
I've got to get my SOUL BAAAAAAACK! AAARRRRGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH! Oh. Oh. Oh. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ... uh huh ... OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH, SHIIIIHIJITTTTTT!"
Maggie jumped off Lonnie and started dressing hurriedly, leaving him alone with his openness as he tried to put the scrambled pieces of his being back together again. He made one futile gesture to her to return to him and hold him so his trip back to reality wouldn't be so lonely.
"Haven't got the time, Lonnie. Come on, hit it! You've got three feet of work stacked up on your desk. Let's get it on."
"I'll never get me back again, will I?"
"Only if and when I say so."
"Have you no compassion for me at all?"
"Compassion? Did you have any compassion for me in that one-horse Kansas town when I came to your apartment with stars in my eyes to find you had skipped without leaving me even a note? No, compassion is something I don't have a lot of today. You might as well save your prayers for God, because your ass is mine. Do yourself a favor. Give up."
Lonnie thought for a moment, then got out of bed, dressed with the care of a man of pride dressing for his own execution and accompanied the ladies back to New York City, answering their questions with a simple "yes" or "no" whenever possible.
By eight o'clock the next morning Lonnie Wolfe was deeply involved with the best interests of Drummond Industries Inc.
TEN
For the next four months and three days, Drummond Industries flourished to even greater heights than it ever reached under the tyrannical hold of Henry Drummond. Jay and Bruce were brought back into the company and given the responsibilities and rewards they deserved.
Hank Storm blossomed at the Lazy S and turned the ranch into a spa for enticing new business that would have caused Gene Autry to turn green with envy had he lived to see it.
Cal got caught up in the society whirl. The eternal "good guy," he came from nowhere to be drafted and elected Governor of Texas.
Lonnie put in a distraction-free, fourteen-hour day, seven days a week and still found the time to keep his four women sexually satisfied without ever even entertaining the thought of so much as holding hands with another woman. The five of them pulled together like a well-oiled machine, clashing only on the most insignificant of details in spats that never lasted over a minute.
To work the occasion of Lonnie's having completed his first year as President of Drummond Industries, Janette and Glenna threw the five of them a party at their estate on Long Island to end all parties.
Over twenty of the world's top entertainers were flown in to perform at their ten-day bash along with over a hundred incidental musicians.
Food was flown in from all over the world. A luau was sent intact air express from Hawaii, everything but the pits in which the pigs were roasted. Six of New York city's finest French chefs made a guest appearance one evening to try to outcook a team of five flown in from Paris. It was a tie.
Caribou from Greenland, native dancers from Tahiti, fire walkers from Africa were but a few of the attractions.
Several times during the festival, Maggie tried to get Lonnie to sign his new contract with Drummond, one that included a substantial salary increase; but he always got distracted and got into her britches instead.
On the last day of the party, they chased away all the people and spent the day in bed together. It was pure magic. Everybody made it with everybody else. Dealer's choice. No hassles. No affection held back. A trusting, sucking, fucking, love-making day of it.
Lonnie finished his participation in the event with Maggie and together they visited places neither had ever visited before. Totally spent and wearing a smile that covered her whole body Maggie disengaged herself from Lonnie and cleaned the come from his cock with her tongue.
"Happy?" Lonnie asked her.
"Madly," she responded. "How about you?"
"The same. I couldn't imagine a better farewell fuck."
Maggie laughed so hard she almost fell off the bed. "I don't recall giving you permission to go anywhere."
"You don't have to give me permission, mommy. I'm a big boy now. It's time for me to go seek my fortune."
"Not as long as I can still do this," she said, half-seriously, taking his limp tool into her mouth and working it over with increasing fury for twenty minutes before throwing in the towel.
"What happened?" she demanded to know.
"Oh, nothing much," he said with a sly grin. "I just got my freedom back that's all. I signed a contract with you marvelous people. Fulfilled it. Lived up to every clause without exception. Now I'm free to go off on another adventure. I'm not saying I'll never wind up in the sack with you again. That would be stupid because you're all such pros at this sort of thing, but I am saying that if there is a next time, it will be with mutual consent."
"You mean I don't have your number anymore?" Maggie asked.
"That's right, kid. You wouldn't give it back, and I couldn't get it back. So I changed it. I'm going to take my case to the Drummond stockholders and be elected President without your help."
The four of them almost died laughing.
"And we were so worried about giving you this," Janette said, handing him his personal financial statement.
It read:
Salary $325,000
Net gain on Drummond stock options 53,752
$378,752
Taxes 136,621
$242,131
Personal expenses 178,047
$64,084
Settlement to
Lila Toulska 75,000
Total-$10,916
"I knew it would be heavy," Lonnie said, "but I thought I'd, at least, get carfare. How is Lila?"
"Fine," Glenna said. "She told me to tell you, you can come by and rape her anytime you feel like it. On the house."
"Okay, so be it. You'll get the eleven grand I owe you the day I take the company away from your control."
"Forget it, Lonnie," Angela said. "You can't do it. We've got forty-three percent of the company among the four of us."
"That means I need the proxies of fifty-one percent of the remaining fifty-seven percent. I think I can get it."
"Where? How?" they all asked in unison as Lonnie dressed.
"Well, Jay and Bruce will back me, I think. They have six percent. That only leaves forty-five percent Like I said, I'm going to take my case to the stockholders."
Maggie was worried. "But, but, but, Lonnie, there are over 273,000 stockholders! You can't fuck them all!"
"You may be right, magic lady," he said, looking back at them from the door with a special glint in his eye, "but I can give it one hell of a try."
The four women remained posed in shock when Lonnie roared down the half-mile driveway in his Mercedes.
He raced all the way to Manhattan because he had a date that evening with a beautiful, eager young nurse at Bellevue Hospital, and he didn't want to keep Dora waiting.
