Pam's hand shook as she laid the note beside the afternoon newspaper on Miss Parks' desk. Banner headlines fairly shrieked. RIVER RAPIST RUNS OUT OF LUCK-THIS TIME. And the heavy black subhead seemed to lick its chops. NURSE DIES, FOILS RAPE ATTEMPT.
A broad column of print extended beneath the headlines on each side of the front page. On the left, under Lew Kraft's by-line, the news account of the tragedy was sketchy in details but rich in conjecture and rehash of earlier "River Rapist" exploits and wringing with the gush of a professional "sob" touch. On the right, a front-page editorial did more sobbing and reviewed previous editorial warnings about the reign of rape. It implied official lack of interest and hinted at negligence as a prime factor in the present death.
Nurse's Aide Nora Bowman was a favorite at Eastfalls Clinic, ran the editorial. She died in the night--and disappointed a crazed rapist. The "River Rapist" has operated for a year without any sign of official interference. This time-still terrorizing those dedicated young women serving the medical community-death of a victim snatched success from his hands at the moment of certain fulfillment, A will higher than mortal courts thwarted his lust, A happy, loved, innocent girl, ripe with the joy of living, has died because those entrusted with public safety and enforcement of the law have failed their trust It is a sad commentary on law enforcement when the only hope a girl has for escaping rape is to die before that act can be completed. And it said more-in bitter, colorful rhetoric-about the callous neglect that could permit a rapist to remain at large for a year's time and through seven rapes and a death.
The lead paragraph of the reporter's story chilled rather than inflamed. Lew Kraft saved his lyrics for the second and succeeding paragraphs. The Nurse, found in a river park, died of an apparent heart attack. Her nude body was declared not sexually molested, but all evidence indicates the rape attempt was interrupted by the girl's sudden death. A coroner's investigation is under way.
"Vera says she was spread-eagled on top of one of those mounds in the playground," went the whisper among Eastfalls Clinic's aides, Vera being the nurse in the coroner's office and a personal friend of Eastfalls' Head Surgical Nurse.
Pam shuddered and stared at the note again.
Receptionist Willa Parks sniffed. "Hmph! They flit those miniskirts around the hospital and poke their bottoms in everybody's face! Just asking for it, I say."
Pam stiffened. Willa hated the younger girls and took every opportunity to give them a hard time. Anyone else would have been fired long before, but Willa had come with Doctor Willard, first, and so far, only director of Eastfalls Clinic. She had a secure hold on her position. She'd been the doctor's receptionist and office nurse-without license-in his private practice when he'd seen patients in a converted room of his home.
Not that the fact made Willa ancient, Pam reflected. Miss Parks was still a vigorous woman and put together so the representatives for hospital suppliers red-starred Eastfalls on their itineraries. And she wore miniskirts, her thighs eloquent tribute to the inspiration for the style. Still, as Willa had sharply reminded Pam once, she didn't bend over beds and flash her ass at every man in the place.
The receptionist broke in on Pam's train of thought. "Anything exciting in the note, dearie? Fine thing when people start passing notes back and forth in the hospital."
Pam gulped, "L-look! Look at this awful thing!"
Willa read the typewritten line, her lips pursing. "My! Just like ..." She snapped her mouth shut abruptly.
"Like what! What's it like, Miss Parks?"
"Well..." Willa hesitated. "I don't want to alarm you, dear, but. . . well, I suppose you ought to know for your own protection if nothing else. Nora got one of those the other day."
"No!" whispered Pam. "Oh, no!"
"I'd keep my windows up and the doors locked on the way home if I were you," remarked Willa. "After all... "
Pam nodded, wincing at the malicious note she thought she detected in Willa's voice.
"And hurry, dearie. It'll be starting to get dark soon."
Pam hurried, even while protesting silently against such a deliberate and obvious example of harassment. The sun wouldn't go down for two hours yet and the drive from Eastfalls to Barton would take less than twenty minutes. Willa was clearly relishing the panic that had spread among the younger women at the hospital. The more jumpy the girls got the more exuberant the receptionist became.
Pam walked quickly along the hallway of the west wing toward the parking lot doors. Nothing in her carriage betrayed the fear that knotted her belly; she walked briskly, head up and shoulders back as if it were the beginning of the shift instead of the end, and her glossy black hair nestled close to her head without a strand out of place. From the back, the simple, fitted cut of her uniform emphasized the graceful slenderness of her waist and the saucy flare of her hips and bottom. It starkly revealed the sway with which she moved, too. But from the front the waistline and hips were likely to draw a second glance-or even a third-after the viewer had noticed the fullness and gentle swing of the high, proud breasts.
The nurse who hurried out of the corridor from the lab and came up short to avoid running into Pam did eye the enticing bustline. She ran her gaze pointedly down the rest of the trim figure, then looked up with a whistle on her lips.
"I swear, Pam! I bet you have to keep score!" "What?"
"Of how many times one of the doctors tries to feel you up during the day." The newcomer glanced again at Pam's breasts.
"Good God, Hank!" Pam laughed shakily. "If I hadn't roomed with you through three years of training and lived across the hall from you the last two years here, I'd think ..."
"Think what, sweetie?" Hank smiled archly. "That I like girls?"
"Exactly! Honestly, you never do think of anything but sex, do you?"
"I try not to. Except when somebody here figures out something else I've got to do in a hurry. You still on for tonight?"
Pam colored and looked down. She hesitated, scuffing the toe of her crepe-soled shoe in the carpeting. Then she looked into Hank's eyes. "I guess so. I'm scared, though. It's not much better than going out somewhere and waiting for ..." Her throat closed on the attempted wisecrack.
"Sweetie! What an awful thing to say! Barry would have a fit if he heard!" She sobered and her eyes betrayed the fear behind them. "Oh, Pam, it's awful about Nora!"
"I know. And Parks says she got a note like this just a few days ago!" she handed Hank the crumpled scrap of paper.
Hank read it swiftly and her eyes widened. "Where did you get this?"
"Envelope at the reception desk."
"Mailed?"
"No."
"From inside!"
"Or brought in, maybe. But Willa says none of the outsiders put anything in the basket, and she'd notice."
"You better believe! Look, sweetie, don't let it get to you. We'll talk about it tonight. Okay?" "Okay."
"And don't forget..." The shorter, rounder nurse darted a glance around and lowered her voice to a whisper. "That button-up strapless and no panties."
"HANK! Henrietta Staumeier Tindell! If you don't stop reminding me I'll never get there!" She flushed and hugged herself. "You don't know how hard it is to keep from chickening out!"
"Oh, yes I do. We roomed together, remember?" Pam continued as if her friend hadn't interrupted. "I just go along pretending nothing's going to happen, right up to the minute I start across to your place. That way, it's like jumping into a pool without looking."
"Oh, you! Go on with you, then! I've got to do a couple of charts before Barry's ready to leave."
"'Bye." Pam left Hank and hurried to the parking lot.
There were others leaving and she felt confident when she approached her own car. But she peered through the window at the floor of the back seat, even though the doors were locked; she had no intention of providing free transportation for a rapist. Inside snuggled into place behind the wheel, she locked her door again and left for Barton.
"If I'd known all these rapes were going to happen, we never would have gone over there to live," she muttered to herself, swinging out to pass a slow-moving farm tractor. "There were places in Eastfalls."
No places with Barry and Hank Tindell in them, though. And from her first date with Seth Kendall, Pam had known how close he and Hank's new husband were. By the time she and Seth had married-four months to the day after she'd arrived at the Eastfalls Clinic as a brand new graduate nurse, and the same period after first meeting the solemn, dedicated young doctor-she'd known without having to be told they would live in the apartment across the hall from Barry and Hank. She'd never regretted it, either. The same deep affection for the girl she'd shared three years of training with had warmed the second floor of the grand old house the two couples shared. They'd never found the older couple who owned the place and occupied the ground floor worth knowing.
And she'd submitted willingly, if trembling with fear and the dreadful mental image of what her parents would have said if they'd known, to the swap arrangement Seth and the Tindells had inaugurated the third week of her marriage. Somehow that had come to seem natural and right and she'd woven it into the fabric of values her mother and father had stitched around her during her childhood. And she'd even learned to broaden the boundaries of the swap to include the occasional intruders Seth or the Tindells introduced.
With Seth's sudden, unbelievable death a month before their first wedding anniversary, living had stopped for her except for the close, quiet recuperation in Barry's and Hank's understanding company. They'd slowly brought her out of her numbness and infused her with new zest. The illness that had snatched Seth from her had become a memory that only troubled her late at night when she was alone in the big bed she'd shared with him.
They'd even continued swapping, except it was more a sharing and didn't happen as often now. They'd kept alive one other activity Seth had loved, although it still terrified Pam and required all her nerve to accept. On rare occasions now, where they'd done it often before Seth had died, they started off their evening of sex with what the others called their warm-up game. For the first time in nearly three months, Pam had yielded to Hank's urging and consented to making tonight such an occasion. And she'd consented reluctantly to being "it". Tonight she'd let them stake her out and play with her until she'd lost her reserve and couldn't wait to make love. And Barry and Hank would be just as fired up. With Seth, the result had always been an explosive evening; without him, one or the other of the two women would nurse a towering hunger until Barry had recovered sufficiently from laying the other to get around to her.
She was. shaking by the time she pulled into the River Road driveway. Panic and self-consciousness over this one kinky practice she'd let them talk her into tore fiercely at her. But she admitted quietly to herself that she had a wicked sense of anticipation as well, and she locked the car and raced upstairs to get ready.
She spent extra time in the shower and took unnecessarily long getting her hair out of its restraining pins and brushed into the full mantle Seth had loved so. The black strands lay on the creamy swell of her chest with such a contrast as to have glints of metallic blue, and the strapless Hank had insisted on her wearing clung lovingly to each breast to furnish a scarlet background for the errant tips of hair that reached that far. And with all the time she spent, she was out in the hall and at the Tindell's door at one minute before seven.
Barry let her in as she'd expected. His glance flicked over her in the moment before he swept her into his arms and he whistled softly over her shoulder.
"Better every time I see you!" he exclaimed. "Pam, you're a goddamn magician!"
"I am?" She snuggled against him, happy in the glow of his admiration and unashamedly encouraging his praise.
"Everybody else I know gets a month older each month. You get a month younger!"
"Watch out! I was twenty and a half when I came here; that makes me eighteen and a half now, and in six months you'll be in the statutory rape business!" She gasped as the word rape slipped out. "Ohhhh!" she wailed. "Oh, I had to go and say it!"
"Hey, hey! Easy, baby!" Barry caressed her gently. "Take it easy! Nothing to be scared about."
"Oh, but that awful man loose and Bowman dead and . . . and . . . and the note!"
Barry led Pam to the couch and urged her to sit. He brought her a whiskey sour before he said anything. "Look, Pam. Don't sweat that goddamn note. Hank told me all about it, and I hear damn near every girl at the hospital's gotten at least one. It's somebody's idea of a practical joke."
"But I'm scared! Bowman got one just like it! Willa Parks said so!"
"That big mouth!" Barry muttered. "I swear she gets her kicks out of seeing you girls squirm! And I don't care if she is Ben Willard's fair-haired girl!"
"Oh that darling Jimmy Parks' aunt?" asked Hank as she came in from the kitchen. "How about taking time for some Welsh rabbit?"
"Come on, baby. The food will do you good." Barry pulled Pam to her feet. "Besides, you're going to need your strength!" he added, leering at her.
Pam shivered and went to the table, but she barely touched her food. She couldn't force the note from her mind, and the sudden tautness between her thighs as she reflected on Barry's hint at the play to come mingled with the other fear to churn her stomach to the point where she couldn't tolerate the thought of eating.
Both Barry and his obviously excited wife ate quickly. They were pushing their plates away when the doorbell rang. Barry looked up with a startled expression.
"Who the hell!" he exclaimed, rising. Pam and Hank watched wide-eyed, while he opened the door.
"Jim! Speak of the devil! And man, do you look like you've seen him! Come on in!"
Doctor "Jimmy" Parks brushed past Barry and flung his hat at the sofa. "Talk about Indian summer! Christ it's hot out there!" As if he were just registering Hank and Pam's presence, his eyes widened and he grinned. "Whew! Hotter in here! You two look good enough for ..."
"You have supper yet?" asked Hank. "Plenty here."
"Thanks. Not now. Fact is, I was supposed to eat with Willa tonight. Got away from the hospital late and she isn't home! No sign of her!"
Barry grinned. "Maybe she's out setting a trap for the rapist." Then, when Jim winced, he added, "Sorry, Jim. Bad taste."
"One thing for damn sure, she wouldn't knock off with a heart attack. Not until it was over, anyhow." But Parks put little enthusiasm in the remark.
Pam winced at the suggestion of fatigue in his posture. Lean and taut, the angles in his dark face speaking clearly of his Mexican mother, he let his shoulders sag in a way she hadn't seen. His slacks had wrinkles and his shirt looked wilted and damp. Even his hair was rumpled, the natural wave tightened and disarranged as if sweat and nervous hands had worked at it.
"What's wrong, doctor?" Her voice carried more concern than she'd meant it to.
He stared into her eyes with a sharp awareness, his expression one of resentment. "That question for real?"
She nodded and her throat tensed at the tired flatness of his tone. - "I don't know where the hell Aunt Willa took off to. She's pissed off for sure. And that patient in one-twelve went out on us." He shook his head and repeated with disbelief, "In spite of everything in the book, that s.o.b. went out on us!"
"How?" One-twelve was that nice Mr. Potter. The one whose daughter was so faithful about coming every day to see him. The one everybody knew should have died week before last.
Jim sighed and grinned at his own disbelief. "Just quit breathing. Imagine a guy just quitting breathing." With a shrug of effort he lifted his shoulders into place. "I don't know, Mrs. Kendall. . . okay, okay . . . Pam! I just don't know. It's the whole goddamn haystack, I guess."
He needed to talk, Pam realized. Like Seth had on days like this, Doctor Jim Parks needed to talk about having to make sense-just to let thoughts tumble into the open where he could see which were large and which small.
She stood and placed her napkin beside her plate. "It's quiet and not too glary on the porch," she said softly. "And if there's any breeze at all itll be coming around the corner there."
Hank clattered silverware onto her plate. "Good idea, sweetie. See if you can get him into a party mood while Barry and I get the dishes out of the way."
"But I . . . " Barry started to object, caught the expression in his wife's eyes and subsided. "Yeah, Pam. Of all the bedside manners in the hospital you've got the most..."
"Honey!" Hank hissed.
"You're the doctor, nurse." Jim waited for Pam, then went into the hallway with her and through the French doors onto one of the few second story verandas in Barton.
With the heat and humidity, Pam reflected, there ought to be fireflies. But there were none. Insects shrilled, however, and she could hear stirrings and twitterings as birds settled for the night. Footsteps and indistinct voices drifted up from the River Road sidewalk and a car came south along the road and bore west, its tires rumbling on the brick paving. And glittering stars-three in a triangle-hung in the gap between the old cottonwoods in front of the house. "What now, nurse?" asked Jim. "Just stretch out there and relax, for one thing." She indicated the sturdy old lounge at the railing.
"Hram." Jim dropped to the lounge and stretched. He patted the edge, shifting to make room. "Don't make me shout, nurse."
"Rascal!" She sat where he'd suggested and placed her hand on the opposite side of the lounge. "Now, doctor, just ramble."
Jim was about Seth's age. She'd thought of that when he'd come to fill the blank Seth had left on the staff. He would have come anyhow, she knew; he was Ben Willard's protege and they would have had a place for him. But he'd taken Seth's tiny office and Seth's patients and the project Seth had spent so many hours on with so few tangible results. And Jim had spent the same kind of hours for the same meager reward.
That had been the Jim Parks of Eastfalls Clinic and Surgical Hospital. A fiend for work, a fanatic on patient well-being and the champion of life in the fight against death. Like a crazy man, some of the younger girls still said. And Pam sometimes wondered if they were right. But most of the time she knew he was simply intense and terribly, terribly sure of himself-as a man fresh from his internship ought never to be.
Off duty, Jim was another man. He was just as sure of himself and just as intense but his drive was toward cramming life full rather than pushing death a step further away. As unlike Seth in physical appearance and philosophy as another medical man could be, Jim had a quality about him that was nothing but Seth. It hid somewhere in his voice and shaped the direction of his logic, producing the same curious twistings that could be so surprising and disconcerting. And it was surely there in his absolute conviction that he was right.
Perhaps the most curious thing about him-discounting the physical differences between he and Seth-was that a man who reasoned things through so much the way Seth had, could come out with such a vastly different picture of reality.
Pam had dated Parks the first time he'd asked her. She'd accepted without hesitation or evaluation. She'd simply said, "Yes. I'd like to." And she'd dated him every time he'd asked her since. She knew he dated most of the other girls at Eastfalls Clinic. Not many of the married ones, she supposed, but certainly all the single ones and likely any married one who showed interest. But the others didn't matter when she was with him.
She'd taken him up to her apartment for a nightcap on the second date-they'd run into his aunt on the first one and hadn't been alone again that evening. But the second time he'd come up for that nightcap. Smoothly and naturally they'd progressed from that one drink to her bed. And each date since had ended there. He made love powerfully and tenderly-more so even than Seth had-but it was in bed she'd found herself in the role of guide. Not that she could teach this young man anything about sex technique or timing or emotional setting. But there were boundaries he'd seemed unaware of. She'd had to guard constantly-even in her most frantic moment-against his unconventional familiarities. It was in the nature of a man, she supposed-particularly a very young man sleeping with a woman he wasn't married to-to feel adventurous. The situation no doubt encouraged him to think of feeling around places his hands had no business being and trying positions properly reserved for stag movies. She'd nipped those tendencies at the beginning, firmly and quietly, and had reaffirmed her attitude as often as she'd had to since. And Jim was learning.
"Hey! You aren't hearing me!" Jim protested. "What? Oh, Jim, I'm sorry! I got to thinking about all the ways I've seen you. And tonight's the first time you've been this low." "In spirits, I hope you mean." "Oh, silly! Of course!" She bent and kissed his chin quickly. "Now, talk. 111 listen."
"I do want you to. It keeps getting twisted when I look at it. One-twelve just gave me something to focus on. Hell, if we'd been halfway humane we'd have let him die when he wanted to. Even God was beginning to get mad at us. Aunt Willa? Hell, I don't know where she is, but she's off sulking somewhere. She knows I didn't have to stay with the case that late. But 111 bet she knew I would. And Nora Bowman . . . dead for no reason. My God, Pam! The man doesn't live who could rape her! If he made a pass he'd have to fight her off! And they're trying to say heart? Shit, they could have transplanted that heart into Hal Stromberg to run the marathon in the Olympics! And last night that kid was ..."
"Night before last, honey."
"Oh, yeah. Well, she was laughing and happy and . . . there wasn't a damn thing wrong with her heart! Or anything else!"
"What else could it have been?"
"I don't know. Damned if I do. There's something wrong, though. I do know that."
"What? How do you know there is?"
"Why would the son of a bitch leave her tied! Hell, rope can be traced sometimes! And why the needle mark on ..." He stopped abruptly.
"What needle!"
"I . . . oh, shit, that slipped out. Don't repeat it. Not anywhere! Wheaton says there was a mark on her arm like someone bungled a blood test or something. Hell, she wasn't shooting anything!"
"Was she drugged? By him, I mean?"
"No outward appearance of it. Won't know for sure until the pathology report's in. I'd bet against it, just on Wheaton's prelim."
"Jim, you think somebody murdered her?"
He didn*t reply.
"You don't think it was the rapist?" He still said nothing.
"That note she got... it did mean something."
"Huh? What note?"
"The one like I got today."
"WHAT!"
She told him and suddenly a chill seized her and shook her too hard for the words to come out. He reached for her and she collapsed in his arms, trembling and sobbing.
"Jesus, baby! It isn't what you think! It can't be!" He covered her face with gentle kisses and massaged her with his fingertips. She clung to him and let the heat in his arms seep through her. Their lips met and crushed together and she gulped at his strength while his hand found her breast and kneaded it.
Something touched the gap between her lips and she continued to gulp, dazed and numb. Warm and wet and rough-surfaced, the object wedged her lips further apart and probed to her tongue. She swallowed and sucked at the wetness and swallowed again. She was suddenly conscious of what she was doing, knew his tongue was in her mouth and she was sucking at it and caressing it with her own. For the first time in her life she was letting someone French kiss her. She started, but Jim's hand pressed urgently at the back of her head and her mouth spread over his and his tongue drove deeper. The warm, thick tip slid back on her palate and filled the arch at the back of her mouth. Savage thrills raced through her as she redoubled her sucking and swallowing and pressed closer, rocking her head to work her mouth around his hps.
With a shudder and a sharp tensing, he jerked his jaws open and reversed the contact. He took the lower part of her face into his mouth, wetting it in his own heat and forcing his tongue into her throat. And she gulped and held her breath and sucked, arching toward him with primitive hunger for his body.
Her lungs burned and her chest heaved in an agony of breathlessness. She wrenched free and raised her head to gasp for air, evaporation chilling the wetness on her face while her tongue and her throat tingled from the feel of his seeking.
"Honey!" she whispered. "Oh, honey, we shouldn't have!"
"Why not, puss?" He held her close, his hand still kneading her breast and his other hand on the yielding flesh of her buttocks. "Why not?"
She shut her eyes and nuzzled the hollow of his neck. "Nice people just don't," she replied, still whispering. "So?"
It didn't sound like a challenge or like flippancy. It simply sounded disinterested, as if it didn't really matter what nice people did. And she felt a vague suspicion it really didn't. But his lips were close and full and warm and she wanted them. She covered them with hers, massaging them with her mouth and shivering at the hot puffs of his breath on her cheek. She ran the tip of her tongue along his lips and slipped it between them.
Chapter 2
Pam tongued Jim's mouth, intoxicated by the novel sensations of taste and texture. She explored the roof with her tongue tip and thrilled to the curious dancing and parrying his tongue did. He sucked, and the vacuum made her feel as if her tongue were swelling, with needles of pressure under the surface. She opened her mouth and drove it over his while she reached deeply toward his throat. The notion seized her that she was orally reversing their sex role-that in penetrating his mouth and driving her tongue into his sucking wetness she was the thrusting penis and he the gulping vagina.
The concept shook her; it was grossly inappropriate for this man in this place. She surged to her feet and jerked her mouth from his, but he held her and she let her face hover an inch from his. She quivered at the insistent persuasion of the gentle hand on her breast and the restless fingers on her back and with a low cry let him pull her to him. Lying along his body, her breasts on his chest and her crotch pressed to his hipbone, she let herself sink into another heady kiss.
Jim caressed her urgently. With both hands massaging her buttocks and thighs, he took advantage of her semi-reflexive retreats from more intimate gropings and slowly guided her legs and lower torso onto his. While their mouths still clung together, Pam lay squarely on the doctor, the bulge of his concealed cockhead lodged in the recess walled by the triangle of her mound and the flesh of her thighs. She tensed her buttocks under the continuing strokes of his hand, the material of her dress sliding with his fingers to arouse the nerves in the plump mounds. She clamped her thighs tightly and pointed her toes. Tremors passed over her at intervals; she tensed abruptly and shuddered, then sagged against him until another unheeded seizure struck her.
Her hips began to undulate minutely and twisted slowly from side to side. The movement worked her clitoral tissues against his unyielding cockhead and produced miniature spasms in her buttocks and along the muscles that led from them, making her jerk erratically and unexpectedly.
Jim felt of the backs of her thighs, his fingertips slipping over taut muscles and kneading between them. As he felt, he gathered the soft cloth of her skirt and worked the hem slowly upward. He gathered it into a folded strip across the tops of the quivering thighs and stroked her bared flesh with light, tickling caresses.
Pam bent her knees and raised her feet, kicking absently with her heels at the persistent fingers, and she twisted abruptly when he thrust his fingers between the hot, perspiration-damp thighs and squeezed. He kneaded, his fingertips probing the sensitized hollows along the inner muscles, and she drove herself against him with fierce spasms of excitement. Her legs jerked in erratic efforts to evade his harder squeezes and he guided them, letting her knees slip apart and slide off his legs to the lounge cushion so she straddled his hips.
His fingers moved into the hollows between the tops of her inner thighs and her pussy, probing and caressing,- and she rotated her crotch down and forward to grind in on his trapped prick. Her knees squeezed his thighs, trembling with the force of their embrace, while her toes wedged themselves under the backs of his knees. Jim lifted his knees slightly and spread them. His feet separated and Pam's feet, jerking at a light caress on her pussy, drove together under his legs. He straightened his legs and let them lie on her ankles, trapping her feet under them, and fingered the silken hair that covered her cunt lips.
Pam bucked suddenly. Her hips jerked fiercely from side to side and she thrust her pussy onto him in a reflex effort to evade the intimacy of his fingers. She tugged at her feet to free them, but Jim held them motionless with his legs and worked his fingertips over the quivering slope of her pussy to the moist slit. With deliberate, gentle pressure, he parted her pussy lips and dragged his fingers along the outer edges of the hairless, mucous-slick inner faces.
She tore her mouth away from his and mumbled against his face. "Jim . . . honey . . . oh, please, not out here!"
"Shhhh . . . shh, baby. Go with it. Don't fight it this time." He whispered into her ear, letting his breath fill the fluted opening so she shivered and clutched at his neck.
"Oh, honey. I'm going all to pieces. Please, don't let me do anything now!"
"Let yourself go, puss. Everything's locked up tight inside. Let it unwind."
His fingers continued their gentle caress along the outer edges of her slit, gliding frictionlessly on the thickening wetness. Pain's hips undulated hungrily to thrust her mound onto the hard-on his trousers covered. She groped aimlessly at the back of his neck with her fingers and covered his face with wet, greedy kisses, but continued to mumble, as if out of instinctive need to salve her modesty.
"No, no, honey . . . not now ... we can't. . . not with Hank and Barry waiting for us . . . oh, honey, please don't.. . mmm ..."
Using first one hand and then the other, taking advantage of the moments when she heaved her hips into fiie air, he again edged her skirt up. The front, pulled taut across his thighs and trapped by hers, slipped over his trousers until at last it lay in a bunched roll beneath her waist. He lifted the folds on her butt and pulled them off her to lay them across the small of her back.
The fingers of one hand continued to slide between her pussy lips while the other caressed her thighs and her naked ass. In an evident burst of sensuality, he withdrew his hand from her pussy and stroked simultaneously with both hands. He massaged her thighs with long, hard strokes, his fingertips plowing deeply along the inner slopes. He cupped his hands on her buttocks and fondled them, pressing them together, kneading them, then squeezing and parting them.
"Honey! My God, Jim, not out here! Cover me up! Honey, the railing doesn't hide anything!"
Inside, an unshielded amber bulb lighted the hallway. Its rays streamed the length of the hall and through the wide-flung French doors. Weak where it splashed across the porch, the soft light washed the lounge and its occupants and highlighted the railing. The foliage of the cottonwoods provided a partial screen between the porch and the pedestrians and cars that passed below and no slackening of footsteps or hushing of voices came to suggest anybody might be aware of the quiet sex play.
"Nobody's going to look that hard, puss," whispered Jim. "If they did, everything's broken up by leaves and the railing. Couldn't see if they knew where to look."
Continuing to hold her feet helpless, Jim terminated the discussion by forcing her pussy lipsfully apart and thrusting his fingers to the floor of her gash, where he fondled the rim of her cunt mouth and slid one fingertip forward to touch her clitoris.
"Mmmp! Nnnnh . . . oh, honey, oh, honey, oh, honey ..." She slammed her pussy onto him, half-rising to rotate it flat against his body and shield the swelling tissues from his hands. "Jim!" she gasped. "No, Jim . . . people don't. . . mmmm . . . don't make love this way .. . mmmm! Honey, not you and me ... we do it in bed!"
"We smooch. We pet." He chuckled wickedly. "Puss, how do I get you into bed?"
"Mmmp! Honey ..."
"I feel you up. Sure, I do! That's what I'm doing now." He refused to let his hands be dislodged, his fingers pressed to the edge of her cunt mouth. Probing, he reached her clitoris again and levered the trapped fingertip against the quivering organ. Pam drew a shuddering breath, audible and agonized, and squirmed with her hips to grind her pussy in tight circles on his groin. As if overcome by the sensations that flooded her, she flung herself flat on him again, her cheek wallowing against his and her hands clawing at his arms.
"Honey!" she wailed in a tightly guarded tone. "Honey, no! We're not. . . I'm not the kind of woman who . . . ahhh . . . kind of woman who does this out in public! Oh, honey, please don't!" But her hips jerked hard and rhythmically and her hands closed on his arms and she rubbed her tits on his chest.
"Ride with it, puss," he whispered evenly. "Let it grab you!"
The bone of her pelvic arch pounded his hidden cock and he worked one finger into her cunt mouth and twisted it back and forth. Pam set her teeth, her lips drawn back to expose them, and raised her head to stare into his face. "It. . . isn't. . . decent!" she panted fiercely. "You're making me do it! You won't listen! Oooh, I can't stop!" Her hips snapped furiously while he thrust his finger inward until his knuckles stopped it. He rubbed her clitoris with the fingers of his other hand.
"I ... CAN'T ... STOP!" Her whisper rang sibilantly, panicky and despairing. "I . . . KNOW. . . I. . . CAN'T!"
Jim removed his finger from her vagina and grasped her thigh, pulling the unresisting leg toward his hips while she rolled her weight to the other side. Pressing her knee against his side, he grabbed her suddenly spread pussy and drove two fingers into her cunt mouth.
"Ahhh! Mmmm! Jim-Jim-Jim!" Her ass jerked violently and she swung herself from side to side.
Jim used his other hand to pull her other knee to his waist. Pam clamped her knees against him and crouched. Her ass thrust backward while his fingers worked vigorously in her cunt. She sobbed quietly, a note of happiness in her voice. Stealthily, while her belly was raised and her ass was churning.
Jim unzipped his trousers and eased his cock free of his shorts. He increased the pressure of his buried fingers and thumbed her clitoris, thrusting her hips up while his other hand pushed his cock away from his belly and positioned it behind her. Letting her sag against him, he released the jerking prick so it lay against the valley of her ass.
She broke into a frenzy of motion when the bulky head settled against her. "Jim! God, Jim! You've got him . . . he's . . . omigod, Jim, help me!" She pushed back to rub her ass on the slippery cockhead. "No-no-no! I can't help myself! Oh, honey, I'm sorry! I can't let you stop now! Quick, make love to me!"
He withdrew his fingers from the hot nest and raised her hips to let his cockhead settle into the thick wetness of her cunt lips.
"JIM, HONEY! On top of me . . . QUICK!" She clawed wildly at his shoulders to rouse him and reverse their position.
But Jim pressed his cockhead between her gaping cunt lips to lodge it over her oozing rim. Gently, his hands firmly gripping her hips, he forced her onto the heavy bulb.
With a deep groan, she lunged backward and engulfed the thick cock, driving the head the length of her vagina and squirming breathlessly when it settled in the core of her gut. "Jim!" she grunted explosively. "Roll me over, darling! Get on top! Hurry!"
"Not yet, puss," he gasped. "Let yourself go first. Make it feel right for yourself." He forced his hand under her writhing belly to unbuckle his belt and loosen the fastener of his pants. Pulling the fly apart, he let her pussy settle on the base of his cock while her clitoris pressed close to his pubic arch.
She raised her belly and rotated her cunt, thrusting her clitoris onto him and locking the taut ring of her cunt mouth on the swelling root of his cock. "UNH! UNH!" she grunted with each slam of her hips, jacking herself on his slippery shaft.
Jim slipped his hands into her armpits and lifted her, making her sit on his hips. She grabbed his arms, her nails digging, and ground her chin on her chest, her eyes tightly shut.
"No, no! Oh, Christ, Jim! Not like this! Don't let me do anything crude!" she pleaded, her voice shaking while her body rose and fell on his cock.
He let his hands slide slowly downward to her waist, holding her erect and letting her bounce. She panted fiercely, her breasts heaving with the motion of her chest, and her hands slipped from his arms to his waist, clutching at it and kneading the hard flesh. He released her waist cautiously, grasping her calves and pushing them off the lounge until her feet hung toward the floor on either side.
She gripped the sides of the lounge with her knees and levered her ass backward and forward. "Ahhh! Ohhh! Oh . . . my . . . God! I'm . . . a . . . wild woman! I'm just a . . . common whore!" she ranted as she ground her cunt on the base of the deep-plunged prick."
Jim fondled her tits through her dress and she clutched his wrists again. She tilted her head back, her face radiating pleasure and excitement. He folded the top of the dress down and gently turned down the cups of the strapless bra that trapped her boobs. While she surged on his cock, her face upturned and her attention apparently riveted on the intense sensations in her pussy, he eased the bodice of her dress to her waist and slid the bra with it. His fingers working as quickly and skillfully as if he were in surgery, he rolled the garments into a snug tube at her waist, tucking and twisting to secure them. Then he laid his hands on the sides of her ribs and thrust his ass into the air to elevate her and impale her even more firmly on his rigid cock.
She shook her head and gazed down on his face. Her expression registered horror when she saw herself and knew she was essentially naked. Her breasts thrust over him, heavy cones with dark, puckered nipples. Below the tight-wound roll at he.r waist, her glossy black pubic hair stood out against the paleness orfler belly and thighs and the white of Jim's shirt and shorts. Her legs extended to the sides stiffly.
She moaned softly. "Doctor Parks," she whispered. "You bastard! Look at me!"
He jerked his hips to slam his cock up into her. She bounced, then dropped heavily as he snapped his ass back to the lounge.
"Oh, I hate you, doctor!" she exclaimed in a whisper while she fucked savagely. "Not you! Me! I'm a goddamn tramp tonight! Darling, if you love me, get on top now, please?"
"Why hate either one, puss?" he asked quickly.
" 'Cause ..." She grabbed for support, leaning forward to rest the heels of her hands on his chest while her ass sawed up and down. " 'Cause we're dirty! We're wicked! Nice people don't fuck outdoors and good women don't ride up on top!" Suddenly she laughed, a note of hysteria in her voice. "Nice girls don't say fuck, either!"
"Then don't be nice this time. Be wicked! Be bad! Wait, I'll be responsible!" He grabbed her wrists and forced them behind her, locking them in one fist at the small of her back. "Now, fuck, woman! Fuck!"
She broke into low moans and flogged her feet back and forth, her hips snapping frantically and her boobs bobbing rhythmically.
"All right!" she cried in a stage whisper. "Okay, then! I'll fuck! For tonight 111 be a goddamn whore!"
Savagely, powerfully, she used her thighs at the sdes of the lounge to pivot her body. She rose and fell on his cock, smashing onto its base with a vicious crash at every stroke. She used his one-handed grip on her wrists for further leverage, ttsusting herself back and pounding her ass on his Bali Her belly writhed and leaped and her tits swung in erratic circles. She glared into his face, her eyes wild and her teeth clenched. Her shoulders swept back defiantly to force her boobs out and up.
"FUCK ... FUCK ... FUCK!" She repeated the word again and again. A great tremor passed over her and she cried out softly. "Jesus! Oh, Jesus, honey!" With a convulsive shudder she jerked forward, her torso still straight, and rode her clitoris on his pubic arch.
"Ohhh . . . Jim .. . I've got to come! I'VE GOT TO COMMMME!"
Jim seized her elbows and forced them back and up. His hips leaped to meet her thrust and he arched his body, digging his heels and shoulders into the cushion. Short, harsh jerks showed his effort as his cum sluiced into the thrashing woman.
Pam gaped, her face contorted with lust. She turned to stare at the street and called in a low, intense tone, "Look! Look at me, everybody! I'm getting fucked! I'm riding a goddamn horn! And I'm coming! ME! PAM! COMINNNNG!"
She went rigid, her legs splaying outward and her body curving over his and her cunt grinding on his cock. Shudders racked her and her tits danced in a blur of minute twitches. She squeezed her eyelids together and bit her Up while her head hung forward and only the brutal thrust of Jim's hands on her elbows held her off his chest.
But Jim's spasms subsided and he lowered her gently, her rigid form still jerking convulsively to the contractions of her orgasm. She snatched at him when he released her arms. Her nails dug into his arms and she wallowed on his body, her ass still gyrating over his softening cock. Her spurts of lust weakened and became less frequent and she gave a great shudder and molded herself to him.
"Ohhh, Jim!" she said in a tremulous tone when her last contraction had spent itself. "Jim, what have I done!"
"You let go, puss." He nuzzled her neck. "You got it on like you needed to!"
"I,. . Jim, I fucked you, right out in front of God and everybody! With me on top doing the fucking!" Her voice broke. "I'll never be able to look you in the face again!"
"Now wait a goddamn minute, nurse! You listen to me!"
"Yes, sir," she said in a small voice. "I want a couple of straight answers! For the record, nurse!"
"Yes, sir!" she whispered. "Was it a good come?" "Omigod, yes! Brrr!"
"Anybody but, you and me know how we did it?"
"I... not unless they heard me." "Tear yourself up or hurt yourself?" "N-no . . . but, God, how I tingle!" "Okay! Now it happens I think it's boring as all hell to fuck a broad by flopping down between her knees and poking away. And I think a woman who won't do it any other way is all uptight. Frankly, I think she's so hung-up she's likely to freeze up in an emergency! I think she's likely to be a bad risk as a nurse. So next time you look at me in the hospital, just remember I figure you're a hell of a lot safer now to trust the patients with!" "Doctor! Honey, you really mean that?" "Damn right I do!"
She shivered and giggled. "We're all sweaty." "And it feels great! Like the way your tits slide on me."
She squirmed thoughtfully. "Mmm! You're right!" Raising herself slightly, she rubbed the hot, wet mounds in his body hair. "Ooh! You're right!"
She sighed and lifted her legs onto the lounge. Gently, she pushed herself off his cock and started to roll off him. But Jim caught her, turned her on her back and held her to himself, his wet cock nestling in the valley of her ass. She squirmed briefly, then placed his hands on her breasts and held them there. Her ass twitched, parted to fit his hmp dick into the crack, then closed on it.
"God, I'm terrible!" she exclaimed softly. "Know what, doctor?"
"What?"
"I was good most of the time. All my life, I was good most of the time." "Huh?"
"I was. Mom and Dad both taught-still do, down in Emporia. They taught me what was right jr-d wrong. And I did right. It was fun to dream jfoout doing bad things, though. And once in a while somebody made me do something bad. Know what the worst thing about that was? "
"No. What?"
"That I always liked it! It was always fun!" She laughed softly and pressed his hands tighter on her boobs. "Not dirty stuff always. Just anything I wasn't supposed to do. But it was always fun and didn't hurt anybody." She sighed heavily. "Except me. I just felt so awful guilty-and worried about them finding out. I think I know what my conscience is." "Yeah?"
"I think it's Mom and Dad-and maybe Seth, sometimes-in my imagination. They watch what I do. And I think I always wonder what kind of expressions they're going to have if I do what I'm thinking about."
"And you just ruin things to keep them happy."
"Yes. Yes, that's it. Brrr! The way they look now!"
"Even Seth?"
She giggled. "He's so shocked he looks funny! He used to talk about people doing flaky things. Only after a while he got hooked on the word kinky. But he was so solemn and all! I'm afraid I scandalized him something awful this time!" "But you did like it this way." "Oh, Jim, it never felt better in my life! Even being outside gave me a special kind of thrill!"
"Want to come out here and ride me the next time I come over?"
"Oh!" she gasped and clutched his hands to her. Then, defiantly she said, "Yes! Yes, damn it! It would be fun!"
Chapter 3
Jim squeezed her breasts tenderly. He took her nipples between his fingers and rolled them while she tightened her grip on his hands. He reached down with one hand and rubbed it in her pubic hair, She sighed and thrust her belly up.
"It's so quiet and restful this way," she murmured. "It's so nice out here."
"The way it ought to be," he replied. "Anywhere!" He pushed her legs apart and she responded without protest, until her feet again dangled from the sides of the lounge and the backs of her knees rested on the side rails.
"This is lewd!" she exclaimed. But her tone was fight and unconcerned. "Ooh! No, no!" she whispered with a gasp when he dragged his fingertip along the side of her clitoris. "Ooh, that's tender!"
He persisted and her hips jerked fiercely.
"Honey, not again. Not now . . . please? They'll be waiting for us inside."
"Oh . . . okay." He helped her off and stood with ber. Quickly, before she could object, he backed ber against the rail.
She grabbed it tightly and stared down at fcerself. "You did a good job with my dress, doctor. I look more obscene than if I were completely naked!"
"You look hotter than hell!"
"I am!" she laughed nervously. "For God's sake, let me get covered up before somebody does see me!" She glanced back, twisting to stare at a couple who strolled slowly past. "Look! They're looking at the stars! They'll look this way!"
"With your back to them and the railing hiding your legs, they won't have any idea what they're looking at."
"They will, too! We're not* that well camouflaged!"
"Okay. Nurse, put my cock away." "Yes, sir!" With professional efficiency, she grasped the semi-erect pecker and worked it inside his shorts. Coolly, obviously pretending she was taking care of a helpless patient, she fastened his trousers and buckled his belt. "There you are, sir."
"Excellent, nurse. Excellent! Now, let me help you." He loosened the tight twists and allowed her skirt to unfold over her hips. Extricating her bra from the top of her dress, he unfastened it and held it in his hand. "Turn around, nurse."
She did. "My back's not to them now," she observed quietly. "And I know they're looking. Look, Jim! They're not even walking!"
Unhurried, he fitted the cups over her breasts and fastened the hooks at her back. "A good medical team hasn't time for the gallery," he reminded her. "You may turn around again." Without a wasted move, he slipped the top of her dress back in place and smoothed it. "There we are! First class! Shall we go in?" "God, yes!" Barry and Hank smiled when the two retume[ "Looks like you kidded him out of his mooi sweetie." Hank gazed significantly into Pam's eyes. "You were born to be a wife, the way you love to baby men."
"I've known a bachelor or two who needed babying a lot worse than most married men," observed Pam dryly. She excused herself to freshen up in the bathroom. It was a good thing, she decided, that Hank kept a special douche set for their party times. When she returned to the living room, Jim was talking on the telephone. She joined Hank on the sofa, waiting until the telephone conversation was completed. With the doctor having shown up, they'd have to call off the game for tonight, she realized. And it was a great relief to her. In a way, even doing what she had on the porch had been less unnerving than being fastened iito some lewd position helpless to prevent a couple of horny friends from thinking up new ways to arouse her.
Jim hung up and turned angrily from the telephone. He muttered to himself.
"For heaven's sake, Jim! After all the time Pam ^]ent getting you cheered up, you have to make a phone call and wind up right where you were!" t Hank bounced to her feet, exasperation clear in her i expression and voice. "Who was that, anyway? Or � it a secret?"
"Shit, it's no secret. Willa." I "Auntie? Oh, dear! Have a fight?"
He laughed ruefully. "Not that bad. Not really. Bte just gets uptight sometimes. She knows the |^mn hospital well enough to know about fctuations like the one in one-twelve. Hell, I knew then we started working with him this afternoon �here wasn't a prayer. Any guy with an ounce of Common sense would have left orders for intensive ;-^r- and gone on home-or maybe told the nurses not to do anything heroic." For a moment he looked haunted. "Hank, what is it with me! How come I've got to stand there toe-to-toe with that old man with the scythe every time and slug it out until he's got what he's come for? Why's it so goddamn personal?"
Pam winced at the note of agony in his voice and at Hank's refusal to. fit her response to it. I Instead, Hank twitched her shoulder to impart a gentle, seductive sway to her breasts and leered at the dejected doctor. "Sweetie, you want to know what it is with you? Don't come asking me. The only doctor in that hospital I can answer that about is Barry! You? Too goddamn sexy for one i thing. Christ, I don't know what makes you think you can heal by laying on hands! When's the walking-on-water bit coming off? I want a front row seat to that!"
To Pam's surprise, Jim listened intently to Hank's rambling tirade. He actually grinned when she finished. "Hank, baby, you're sure lucky you're married and keep what you've got at home! Give me a couple of hours with you and I'd have a look at what makes you so sassy!"
"It's been tried," she replied flippantly. "And don't bank on immunity just because I'm married!
He laughed, the momentary depression clearly thrown off. "They all say that. Don't they, Barry? You haven't been married long enough to forget.'1 - "Hey, man! Don't try to drag me down with you! I don't walk on water!" Barry studied Jim "Fact is," he added thoughtfully after a pause "she's telling the truth."
In the tense silence that followed, Pam sensed the unspoken communication that flowed betweei the two men. At Barry's statement, Jim spun 01 him, his black eyes holding Barry's gaze unwaveringly, while the expressions in both men's feces changed continuously. She heard Hank's sharp intake of breath and nothing else and she wondered irrationally if medical schools were teaching telepathy these days.
When she thought she'd have to say something to break the taut atmosphere in the room, Jim stirred.
"Hmm," he said.
Barry grunted and Hank swayed toward Jim, pouting suggestively.
"Still feel interested in why I'm so sassy?" she asked gently.
Jim stared at her and Pam grinned. What he was seeing was all good, she knew. Hank exuded raw sex when the subject was on her mind, which Pam figured was practically all the time. And tonight she'd outdone "herself. In anticipation of the "game", of course, she wore clothes that were handy to get out of. The fact that they were beautifully cut for her particular figure was incidental to that. But to Jim, right now, it could hardly look incidental. Her outfit was two-piece. The top was a simple triangle of organdy, lined with reasonably dense nylon but still practically transparent. The tails of the triangle tied around Hank's waist. The upper tip was cut off to provide Mi edge for the neck loop to attach to, and the neck loop was a spring-loaded silver band. With even fair eyesight and any interest at all, an observer could readily make out the curves of firm, globular breasts and thick, sturdy nipples. The skirt overlapped in front, but it was a simple wrap-around that fastened only at the waist and overlapped sparingly enough to afford frequent glimpses of smooth, plump thigh. Hank's feathered hairdo with the tight, ash-blonde curls that hugged the back of her neck and the point of her jaw seemed inevitable with the pixie face and brown eyes.
And even as she acknowledged the seductiveness of Hank's appearance, Pam was conscious of a fleeting twinge of jealousy at Jim's evident arousal.
"In why you're sassy? Hell, yes!"
"Well, maybe ..."
The jangle of the telephone interrupted Hank. Barry crossed to the instrument.
"Hello. Tindell." He listened. "You have? Oh? Well, yes she is, but. . . oh. Well, may I tell her who's . . . you can't. Okay, hang on." He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece. "Pam, anybody know you were coming over tonight?"
She shrugged. "I don't think I mentioned it. But everybody knows I'm probably with you and Hank if I'm not home."
"Yeah, I guess. But..." He hesitated and frowned. "Look, this call sounds a little out of it. Hell, I can't even tell if it's a broad or a guy. Won't give a name. Says it's vital. You want to pass it up?"
"How can anybody do anything talking over the phone? I'll take it."
He smiled tightly. "Could just pant, you know."
"I've heard that before, too." She took the phone from him.
"Hello." She waited. "Hello?"
"Hello." The voice sounded inhuman. It didn't remind Pam of the voices the movies and TV shows tried to foist off on robots, but rather like what she'd imagined a a real robot might sound like.
"Excuse me," Pam said. "Did you want to talk to me?"
"Kendall?"
"Yes. This is Mrs. Kendall."
"Too bad you can't remember that."
"WHAT!"
"The Mrs. Part. Save you a lot of grief."
"Who are you? What do you ..."
"Save it, Kendall. You're just about on top of the list. But you like being on top, don't you."
"Good God! What do you mean by that?"
"Never mind. You good on horseback, Kendall? Used to ride in the shows or something like that?"
"Yes! But what's ..."
"Oughta stay on fine with a good horn, then."
"GOOD-BYE! I DON'T HAVE TO ... "
"BUT YOU WILL! You stay off the colts, Kendall! You want to play pooky, keep on playing with your friends. Just stay out of the show ring!"
"I don't know what you're ..."
"Yes, you do. But if you want to act dumb I'll tell you in simple, four letter words. Don't screw around with that Dr. Parks. He's dangerous. Dangerous! He's got kinks all over!"
"You can't say that! There's nothing wrong with ..."
"Like to be all spread-eagled while he eats your pussy? Like to get on top with him holding your arms behind you and come down with that thing under your ass instead of your twat? Like to ... "
"STOP! STOP IT! I know what you are! You're a maniac! This is just an ... "
"Obscene call, maybe? Forget it. You're way up that list. Bowman made it to the top. She made it [dear out through the top! Couldn't take a warning."
"You're just trying to scare me!" Pam whispered into the mouthpiece.
"He'd eat your kind up, Kendall. You want to keep on playing around with him, you'll find out.
What happens when he hangs you up by the ankles and uses some kind of equipment out of surgery on you?" "UGH!"
"Or when he figures he's tried it all and decides it's time for the needle?"
"DONT! PLEASE, DON'T!"
"You stay away from him, Kendall! Don't you be asking for it!"
There was a sharp click in the receiver. Pam shouted.
"Hello? Hello? HELLO!"
When she heard the dial tone she hung up. She couldn't turn around because she'd have to look straight at Jim. And she had to have a moment's recovery time before she could risk that.
"A real kook?" asked Barry gently.
"I . . . I'm not sure." She rested her forearm against the wall and pressed her forehead to her wrist. "I just don't know. I guess so."
"Why the hell didn't you hang up?" He laid his hand on her shoulder and she clutched at his] fingers. "You don't ever have to listen to that kind | of shit!"
"I did. I had to listen to it this time." "How come?" "That note."
"The note!" Jim's voice was right at her other shoulder.
She flinched, clenched her fists, and turned slowly around. "It was like that. Only not completely."
"Threats!"
"More like warnings, I suppose." She didn't want to tell Jim. It could hurt him-hurt him badly. She even wondered if the caller could bej telling the truth.
"Man or woman?" asked Barry. "I . . . Barry, I couldn't tell! I just don't know!" "Come on, sweetie. Sit down. No need standing in a corner." Hank rescued her from between the two men and led her to the sofa. "Now, what was it all about?"
"Maybe ..." Pam paused. She decided it would help if she told just a little. She didn't have to mention all.the weird things the caller had said Jim would do. "Well, whoever it was said ..."
Barry chuckled. "Look, sugar. Can't go around calling him or her 'whoever it was' all night. Call 'it' Harvey for the voice without a body."
"Harvey? The big rabbit? He didn't even have a voice," observed Hank.
"Never mind. Harvey's as good as anything." Pam smiled faintly. "Okay. Harvey said I was just about at the top of the list. And 'it' said stay away from ..." She couldn't force the words out as she looked at Jim's face. He looked stricken, as if he had a premonition. "Me?" he asked quietly. "Yes! Jim, how did you know?" "Who else are you dating? If there is anyone, you're sure keeping it quiet around the hospital." "Well ... no one right now. Just you." Barry laughed. "Hurt my feelings. How come Harvey isn't jealous of me?"
"Barry!" Pam gasped, flinging a quick glance at Jim.
"He knows," Hank said softly. "We just added him to the circle."
"Oh, my!" Pam touched her throat. Then she remembered. "Harvey does know! 'It' said if ... if I wanted to play pooky, to get it from my friends ... to keep on playing with them!"
" 'Pooky'?" Hank frowned. "You don't hear that much."
Barry agreed. "Not enough for me to remember ever having heard it."
"You wouldn't!" his wife exclaimed. "Get you inside that hospital and you can't hear anything but the ..."
"Awww, I'm not that bad."
"Oh! And 'it' kept calling me Kendall."
"So?" Barry glanced quizzically at her.
She laughed, thinking what a dear he was for lightening things up. Even in surgery, she reflected, you could count on Barry's flip comment to pull the fust. "So the only place people call me Kendall is at the hospital. It's Pam everywhere else."
"Sweetie! I know who says 'pooky!" exclaimed Hank as she grabbed Pam's arm.
"Who?"
"Quivera! She's the only one, and she always does!"
"That's right!" Pam did recall. "Even Parks ... I mean, Willa. Even Willa noticed. She made some crack about it the other day."
"Like what?" Jim grinned. "Probably muttered it under her breath. She probably said, 'Why can't the silly thing say fuck like everybody else?' Right?"
Pam nodded.
"What else did this joker say?" demanded Barry.
"Well, just a lot of nonsense, I guess. Oh, and something about Bowman getting to the top of the list and going right on through. And about a needle or something."
"Needle!" Barry started. "But there was ..."
Jim shook his head. "Hell, everybody in the county knows about the needle mark on Nora's arm. And anybody's guess is as good as anybody else's as to what it means. Pam, you couldn't tell anything from the voice; how about words or phrases? You know? The way everybody talks a little differently?"
"No. All mixed up. Crude in one remark and educated in the next. That was on purpose, I'm �ure."
"Could it possibly have been Irma?" he asked.
"Irma Quivera?" That could be right, she realized. He'd been going with Irma, too, and she obviously liked him. "Well. . . well, it could have been any woman with a fairly deep voice."
"Big help!" Barry growled. "Half the nurses in 'the hospital could sing bass in the church choir. Could have been any guy with a high voice, I suppose."
"Yes." The word "pooky" was a dead giveaway. And because it was, Pam decided it just couldn't have been Irma. Besides, Quivera was too gentle and compassionate to make such an ugly call. She might be dreadfully jealous of the other women Jim dated but she wouldn't handle it that way. She was quick and clean if she ever got violent. Quick and clean and no warning.
"So what's it boil down to?" asked Jim. "Basically a warning to stay away from me or else, nght?"
Pam agreed with her eyes. She knew she couldn't turn off what she had going for Jim. Not without knowing the voice had been right. iSomeone-the voice-had watched the scene on the porch tonight. That someone knew about the swap thing, too. She thought of the couple downstairs, but they had both been nearly deaf for years and ^talked in shouts. Old Mr. Beam had cataracts, pesides, and couldn't see his hand in front of his byes. And his wife was hardly any better. | The voice had been right about one other thing.
Jim-understanding her hang-up almost better than she-had been so thoughtful about pinning her hands behind her so she could pretend she wasn't making the decision about going through with that horrible position. He could just as well have done that while she was still kneeling astride him. As strong and quick as he was-and as overwrought as she'd been-he could have plunged her rectum onto his cock as easily as her pussy. Another time he just might. And a man who found things boring in one position might easily find ordinary variations just as boring after a while. She jerked her head around to stare at Hank, wondering if she'd heard what she thought she had.
"What did you say?" she asked, her throat suddenly dry.
"That we've been waiting all evening to get our party going!" "HANK!"
"He's joined, sweetie! Can you think of a more exciting way to welcome him?"
"Oh, Hank! That was always just between ..."
Jim and Barry moved away, talking, as if they sensed a need for private discussion between thei women.
"I know it was, honey." Hank kept her voice down. "Just us. But you've just got to face it, Pam! You've got to outgrow those hang-ups!"
"They're not hang-ups! They're . . . it's . . . well, it's just not doing the things that aren't done!"
"I keep saying, aren't done by whom?"
"By ... by ... "
"By the nice people, Pam? By school teachers? How many people have you slept with? Or watched when they were screwing?"
"Well, just the people you and Barry brought-or Seth. And . . . well, Jim."
"Thought so. Know what, sweetie?" "What?"
"Barry and I did a lot of swapping. Still do every time we go out of town. Know what they always kid us about when we show up at one of those things away from home?"
"No."
"TindelTs Ten. That means Tindell's Ten Commandments. The rules we always insisted on for anybody we were going to introduce you to."
"What?"
"Sure! We didn't want to lose you! And that meant keeping everything a hundred per cent square! The only kinky thing Seth ever bought was the 'game'. And the only reason you went along with that was Seth wanted to."
"Okay. The swappers you know are kinky. So what? I don't have to be." Pam realized she was breathing hard. Hank had always ridden her about-being inhibited. The one thing she'd had to work on in their friendship had been learning to take Hank's continual urging toward sexual liberation with a good humor. And now Hank and Barry wanted her to submit to the "game" in front of Jim. Perhaps she ought to. The voice on the phone had brought up bondage situations. If Jim really did have a thing about that it would be good to find out when Hank and Barry were around to keep things safe. And she could worry about facing herself some other time-like in the morning when she tried to look into the mirror-or tonight in bed when she sat across the imaginary table to face the imaginary faces of her mother and father-and maybe Seth. "Hank." "Huh?"
"If I do, will you promise something?"
"What?"
"That you and Barry won't leave me alone with Jim while I'm .. . while I'm fastened?"
Hank looked puzzled, then her eyes flickered with awareness. "The Voice?" she whispered.
Pam nodded and swallowed.
"Okay." Hank squeezed Pam's hand. "And I won't let him do anything. I mean, anything I wouldn't let him or Barry do to me."
"That's all I could ask, hon. Thanks." Pam stretched and tried to ignore the awful fluttering in her belly. "I'm ready."
Chapter 4
Pam shivered and wondered if she was going to vomit. She'd forgotten how terribly long it always seemed between the moment they decided to start and when they finally started caressing her. She could recall having wondered if it seemed that long to Hank when she was "it". Probably not, because Hank looked forward to it; Hank loved everything about it and anticipated being surprised by some new twist in the stimulation they applied. But that was dear, hedonistic, uninhibited Hank. The girls at school had even whispered that Hank had tried it with the old farm collie when she was in her teens. Pam didn't believe that, but if Hank ever mentioned it she would.
Jim seemed elated over the game. It appeared he meant to participate rather than simply watch. Pam couldn't imagine it any other way, and that was one of the scary things about it. She couldn't imagine his simply watching. But it was going to take all her will power to hide the humiliation she'd feel when he started doing things to her when was in the lewd position they'd have her in. At least she didn't have to guess about that. It never varied. For kicks, they always made the first move in the living room or dining area. They tied the victim's wrists together. Then they either led her or carried her, depending on the mood, to the bedroom. They tied her feet, spreading her legs as far as they would go, of course, to the corners of the bed. They took their time getting her dress off-and whatever else she happened to be wearing-and then untied her wrists long enough to finish spread-eagling her. From that point on, it was a free-for-all. And the horror of being ogled and mauled by people who didn't even live with you combined with the simultaneous sensations to build an unbelievable amount of excitement.
"Come on, sweetie," Hank beckoned from the dining area.
That was where they wanted to start tonight. She clutched at her belly with one hand and stumbled to her feet. It was worse tonight than it had ever been. Even the first time hadn't been this terrifying, because Seth had been there to whisper to her. As she forced one foot after the other, she was acutely conscious of her body. Her breasts felt heavy and soft and sweaty. Her nipples rubbed against the material of her bra, and it should have been too tight for that. Her buttocks felt sweaty, too, and they felt as if she ought to be able to hear them squeak when they rubbed each other as she walked. Her pussy tingled and felt hot and sticky. And her thighs wanted to stick to each other.
She reached them and they watched her as keenly as the board of directors of her conscience did in her private sessions of self-evaluation. She slowed and finally stopped. Her throat too tight for her to speak, she held out her hands silently.
Hank crossed Pam's wrists and held her hands while Barry tied them. He used padding tonight and she knew he never had before. He had folded a dishtowel lengthwise and put that around her wrists before he lashed them with the rope. That seemed silly, the rope being as soft as it was and the crossed wrists being such a temporary thing. But Barry was as thorough about the "game" as he was with a diagnosis in the hospital.
She'd stopped in the archway, the others not having insisted on her coming all the way to the table. And when the lashings on her wrists were snug without being tight enough to stop her circulation, with two or three feet of rope hanging from the final knot, Hank turned her around. They made her stand without moving. They were savoring the thrill of her helplessness, of course. She'd cringed before under the same maddening delay.
Hank released Pam's hands and Barry and Jim moved in to flank her. Gently they began to raise her arms. She started forward, assuming they were ready to take her to the bedroom. But they stopped her. In a moment, startled and puzzled, she stood with her arms above her head. Jim held them while Barry went behind her. She felt light, erratic tugs at the rope and then Jim let go of her arms and stepped away.
Her arms stayed where they were. Her first effort to let them down brought the rope at her wrists taut and held her in place. She shuddered and looked up. Barry had fastened the rope to the rod across the top of the archway-the one Hank had once hung beaded strings from when that was the craze. The fastenings were absolutely secure. She shut her eyes and stifled a whimper. Her motion tugged her breasts up and lifted her dress to expose most of her thighs, while her posture locked in her belly and made her pubic mound sand out obscenely.
Her captors studied her; their eyes had the bright gleam of excitement and all three touched their lips with the tips of their tongues. With a rush of horror she realized they intended to start playing with her here.
Being spread-eagled on the bed had always been bad enough-or good enough, depending on whether she was thinking about before or after they had her all excited. But at least that had been on a bed, lying down on her back. If they stripped her and played with her here-standing up and with nothing to sag into when the excitement got to be too much, it would be impossibly humiliating. The idea of sex in a standing position was even more repugnant to her than that of being on top of the man.
Barry touched her first. He laid his hands on the flesh just below her elbows and ran his hands lovingly down the quivering muscles to her shoulders. Fingering her armpits momentarily, he continued the stroke to the top of her dress and over it-along her sides-to the swell of her hips, where he slipped his hands around to squeeze her buttocks.
"Barry ..."
"Yeah, baby?"
"Barry, not this way, please. It just isn't decent. We never do it like this."
"Baby, you can't imagine how sexy you look like this!"
"Not like this, Barry. Please, Barry?"
"You need to loosen up, Pam. Honest to God, you do! Let's make a stab at it this way."
"Oh, Barry! Brrr!"
No matter how much she objected to this, she couldn't control her reactions to his hands. H[ hadn't touched her boobs or come near her pussy The nearest he'd come to outright erotic flesh wai that brief caress of her bottom. And yet the second pass of his hands over the same route made her gasp with the fierce tingle that spread over her body. She gasped and surged backward, taking advantage of the slack in her arms. Barry grinned and Jim and Hank joined him. They teased her, pretending they were going to turn down the top of her dress, or fingering the buttons that closed it down the front, or turning up the hem of her skirt and lifting it until she could feel air moving on her pussy hair.
She trembled and squirmed and held her breath. She mumbled at them to play the game right. But they smiled and kissed her and ignored the pleas. Without disturbing her dress or bra, Barry and Jim began fondling her breasts. Each took one of the fensitive mounds between his hands and felt of it ffcough the layers of material. They trapped her jaapples and massaged them and pushed the boobs apward with pressure on their undersides and made tnrills shoot through her in waves that triggered hip movement and soft, bubbling moans of pleasure.
Hank knelt at Pain's feet. She placed her hands tan the outsides of Pam's calves and ran them up her legs, slowly and sensuously. Pam quivered when Hank reached the hem of her skirt and continued to stroke upward. Looking down past the men's hands, she watched her skirt ride on Bank's wrists. Smooth, creamy thighs came into view and the draped material hung barely below her crotch when Hank rested her hands on Pam's hips. The laughing girl kept them there, her fingers restless. She caressed hollows and swellings and ran her fingers around onto Pam's buttocks. Pam twitched her ass and sucked in her breath. With a low humming, suggesting contentment, Hank worked up to where the tight waist of the dress blocked her, then traced with her fingertips from the small of Pam's back around to her belly. Slowly, letting her hands slip toward the sides and back to the center repeatedly, she moved them down until her fingers plunged into the thicket of Pam's pubic hair. Pam groaned and pulled her hips back as if to escape the intimate touch.
"Hank . .. Hank, don't let them keep me here! It isn't decent! Standing up like this, I mean." "Best thing in the world for you, sweetie." "Hank! You can't!"
Hank chuckled unsympathetically. "Easiest thing in the world, Pam. And you're going to love it." She withdrew her hands and unbuttoned the bottom button in the front of the hem.
"Hank, please!"
Hank looked up with a self-satisfied smile and unfastened the second button. Pam clenched he] teeth and tugged at her bonds, but she felt no give either in the loops around her wrists or the knot at the overhead rod. She resigned herself to the fact that pleading would achieve nothing and abandoned herself to the sensations that streamed into her. Her breasts felt as if they'd been treated with some wonder drug for sensitivity. Every movement of either man's hands telegraphed itself through her tissues to her sense centers and drove thrills over her skin. Her nipples throbbed violently. Hank wasn't touching her, but the girl's calm, methodical manner as she unfastened the stubborn buttons in the front of Pam's skirt was a disturbing as the fingers that kneaded her boobs And Pam found it impossible to drag her gaze away from the patient hands.
Hank's hands were short and a little pudgy. But her fingers tapered gracefully and gave an appearance of dexterity. She wore her wedding band and the diamond Barry had given her on the ring finger of her left hand. On the corresponding finger of her right, she wore a fiery ruby in an empress setting and light caught in it and flashed brilliantly as she turned her hand. She unbuttoned the skirt to the middle of Pam's pubic hair and let the edges hang open to reveal the tight-clamped thighs in the shadow. She thrust her hands through the gap to caress the outside slopes of Pam's flanks and forced the skirt to gape indecently. Even Pam could see the black wisps of pubic hair that showed at the top of the opening.
Hank smiled up at her and unbuttoned one more button, then caught the lower corner of one flap and folded it back, holding it on the back of Pam's leg while she tousled the lush strand of shining pussy hair that was exposed. Pam stared, fascinated and cringed when she saw Hank's fingers move down toward the lower edge of the mound the hair grew on. Her teeth gripped her lower lip and her nostrils flared in anticipation. Hank rolled her hand over, palm up, and let her fingertips slip tantalizingly over the edge and in along the under curvature.
With a shuddering sigh, Pam pressed her thighs more tightly together and slid one knee in front of the other. She twisted her hips and jerked them backward to avoid the touch she expected on the hood of her clitoris. But the movement appeared not to interfere with Hank's intentions. The nimble fingers trapped the barrel of Pam's clitoris against the underlying pubic bone and, working through the layers of the hood, rolled the tiny organ from side to side.
Pam's hips snapped forward involuntarily at the surge of pleasure, then swung to the side and back. Bank laughed. "Marvelous, sweetie! Beautiful!"
"God, that's sensitive!" whispered Pam with a gasp. "Go slow, Hank!"
"Open up a little, sweetie. Can't gauge how much pressure to use."
Pam tensed and shuffled her feet a few inches apart, reluctantly separating her thighs for Hank. Hank stroked, her touch light and gentle and her fingertips barely touching the side slope of the clitoral hood. Fine black hairs growing from the folded cover whisked erect when the finger passed them, and bent before it when it approached, their roots twitching in the supporting flesh and exciting wary nerve endings. And the hood itself, indented under the affectionate pressure and sliding with the strokes, caressed the underlying, quivering cylinder. Pleasure pulsated in Pam's clitoris and welled through her, making her belly tighten and her inner thigh muscles tremble. She let her knees sag apart, her arms taut as they supported her weight. Her breath came faster and she turned her head slowly from side to side. Her face pressed first against the flesh of one arm, then the other, and the wetness from her mouth spread over the upstretched flesh.
"Hank! God, Hank, that's so good!" she whispered. "Just right!"
The continuing massage of her breasts magnified her sense of luxurious joy.
She smiled happily. Despite the tension in her arms and the strain of standing, she did have greater mobility than if they'd spread-eagled her on the bed. She could swing her hips easier and jerk her bottom back if the pressure at her pussy was too great. And having her breasts hanging in front of her instead of flattening over her chest seemed to increase their sensitivity. After all, she hadn't asked them to put her here in the arch; she wasn't responsible for the lewdness of the position or location. And the things they were doing did feel good. She could-she just had to-relax and enjoy everything that happened.
Barry leaned around her to kiss her mouth. Pam warmed to his affectionate smile and pressed her lips gladly to his.
"You're doing fine, baby," he whispered softly. "Am I?" she asked. "I'm scared, Barry." "Don't be scared. We all love you." He grinned wickedly. "We're going to take care of you, baby!"
"I know!" She shuddered and smiled ruefully, feeling herself blush. "That's what scares me!"
He slid his fingers along the elastic at the top of her dress, watching her eyes as they widened. At the back, his hand dipped inside the tight edge to fumble with her bra hooks. It was a moment of tension that always gave her trouble and tonight was no exception. Her shoulders tightened and she winced. She felt the bra rebound when the first hook came loose and the abrupt sag of the cups when the second yielded. "Hey! There we go!" exclaimed Jim, a pleased note in his voice.
The two men chuckled when their fingers closed an the elastic over the upper swells of her breasts simultaneously.
After you, doctor." Barry feigned formality, "Not at all, doctor! Be my guest," replied Jim.
Barry grunted, his head down. "Don't look now, Doctor, but I think the lady intends us both to be her guests."
"Aha! In that case ..."
Together, they turned down the dress and let Pam's bra fall away from her tingling breasts. Above the inverted bodice the released cones swelled and smoothed. Wrinkles her bra had pressed into the soft flesh filled and showed their nature only by their faint redness. Youthfully conical, her breasts dipped with the curvature of a ski slope where they flared out from her upper chest. Halfway out to the tips they bulged, and they were rounded and full behind the nipples. The undersides, she knew, had no crease where they met her ribs. The flesh swept out and curved gently upward on the approach to her nipples, shaped by skin that was taut and firm.
Tonight, with her arms overhead and the muscles from her shoulders tugging up at her chest, the ripe cones tilted saucily and her nipples had a proud angle to their elevation. The nipples were long and thick enough to make suckling easy. They swelled visibly now. Depressed into the bed of their supporting breasts by her bra until the garment had fallen away, they moved slowly outward. In her already appreciable excitement she could feel their inner stiffness and the prickling in the dimpled caps and knew they were going to pucker the moment either of the men touched one. She was thankful Hank had stopped playing with her pussy for the moment; her nipples would be dancing right now if she hadn't.
Instead, the vivacious girl was doing something around Pam's feet. The brushing contact tickled a little but seemed hardly erotic to Pam. She had a chilling premonition and looked down through the valley between her boobs to find Hank had knotted a loop of rope around each ankle. "Hank! Here? Not here, Hank! God!" Hank's laugh rang with delight. "Oh, Pam? You're just perfect!" "What?"
"Sweetie, you make it so exciting! Being so prudish about it, I mean!"
"Well, my God, hon! There's got to be limits!"
The ash-blonde head came up and Hank gave Pam an impudent grin. "When we get to one I'll let you know, sweetie! How's that?"
"I never had a guy say that. Hey, Barry! Get .our mind off that tit for a minute and give me a hand!"
With Hank at one leg and Barry at the other, each clutching an ankle and a knee, Pam had no way to resist their wishes. She edged her feet apart^ while her body settled and her arms straightened. A quick glance at herself horrified her and she looked instantly away, panic and embarrassment beating at her. The two delighted maniacs-as she mentally classified them in her agitation-passed the ankle restraints around the slim ornamental columns that flanked the archway. Each gave an extra tug to the rope and dragged her feet an added inch to the side before tying the knots. Pam held ber breath, terrified at the way they'd stretched her and wondering if she could stand being so taut. She twisted her hands until she had her fingers around the upper rope and hauled at it. For a few seconds she let her entire weight dangle from it, �fting her heels from the floor and letting her toes brush lightly. But the impulse had cost her another afcgree of mental anguish. Raising her legs made the taut ankle bonds tug her feet further apart.
Hank backed discreetly away. "Have fun, aweetie. It's time for the men to be in charge."
Barry immediately unbuttoned the rest of the awrttons on her dress and let it drop to the floor. Be was so casual about it and so quick that her sudden nakedness struck Pam with brutal force, �be gazed at herself again, unable to resist the desire to know how she would look to the others.
"Omigod!" she wailed. "How obscene!"
The wide angle of her legs stretched the tendons on the inner sides of her thighs and thrust her pussy down prominently. She could see a bulge of flesh through the screen of her pubic hair and knew with sick certainty that her cunt lips were gaping lewdly at the men.
Barry straddled her left leg and caressed her helpless body. With one hand he rubbed the small of her back and squeezed her tight buttocks, letting his fingertips brush along the crack of her ass. With his other hand he felt her belly. The shrinking flesh felt taut under his caresses and raw surges of embarrassment shook her as he fingered her elongated navel and gently rounded lower abdomen. Then he stroked vigorously upward to clutch at her boobs. Their increased elevation, produced by the extension of her arms, made them so sensitive they burned when he grabbed them.
"Agh! Oh, Barry! My skin feels raw this way!"
"Know what, Pam? You're not the only one! You can't imagine how it wrings me to look at you this way!"
"It's not like on the bed, is it?" she whispered.
"Oh, Christ, no!" He gave her a strange look. "Don't even look like the same woman!"
Jim knelt astride her other leg. He stroked her thigh with slow, thoughtful movements. His fingertips explored the taut muscle structure and traced the course of her trembling tendons. He probed the faint hollows between muscle ridges and found concealed nerves to jolt Pam with sudden flares of excitement. And he worked his way to the deep hollow where her thigh joined the boundary of her pussy.
She gave a low, involuntary cry of pleasure.
"Oh, Jim! Oooh!" She drew a shuddering gulp of air and sagged, thrusting her hips forward.
With unhurried, light strokes, he brushed his fingertips over the hairy pussy lips while Pam pressed toward the touch and ground her hips in an eager, powerful undulation. Her eyes narrowed with her concentration on the sensations that plucked at her and she set her front teeth together and pouted her lips, her breath hissing between them in ragged puffs. The thickening wetness in her slit seeped past the outer edges and into her ! pubic hair. It coated Jim's fingers and made them slippery as they glided over her clumps of tender L flesh and she hung back on her shoulders to rotate her pussy up to his touch.
The twin rolls of flesh swelled, inner membranes � thrusting against each other and wedging the I surface edges apart to expose pink, hairless tissues that glistened with their coating of pussy juice. Pam felt the abrupt cooling of the heated slopes I and jerked her hips with longing for a more i aatimate touch. A pleased moan escaped when �Jam's finger caressed the gaping walls and slipped through their heavy coating. She gulped and [pushed her head back between her arms. They perked closer and quivered as she tugged backward and let her hair sway against her back. Her breasts ! swayed and narrowed the valley between them.
She trembled at the intensity of her excitement. [Jam's lips were at one nipple and his fingers roved between her belly and the other. Sensations tumbled through her too fast to be recognized. There was a hand-or was it two hands-at her ass, base fingers deep in her crack and the palms and heels squeezing and kneading. There were fingers [feat were caressing impossibly sensitive membranes around her cunt mouth and internal pressures that were swelling those membranes and unfolding her pussy lips.
She stared unblinkingly up her arms, seeing the quiver of the flesh in her upper arms and the bulges next to her elbows and the whiteness of her motionless knuckles as her fists clenched around the rope that suspended her. She knew how her body must look to Hank and the men, and for a brief interval that twisted her gut in excitement because the picture was so lewd and unladylike, she visualized herself. She imagined she saw the depressions at her armpits and the smooth, taut muscles running over the fronts of her shoulders to tug up at her breasts. She pictured the coned, shaking tits jutting away from the chest and her belly, thrust out and mounded by the deep arch to her back and the bent knees and taut thighs angled forward to let her push down on the \ gently rubbing hand at her pussy. She imagined the way her buttocks were tightened as her hips and; pelvis rolled up to present her hungry cunt to the men whose crotch rested on her calf.
But the imagery was too graphic and she swept it away and let the physical pleasure that burned through her fill the void. She was vaguely conscious of the motion as Jim stood to press close] to her side. She felt the hardness through his! trousers when he pressed his hard-on against her: and she was acutely aware of the change in; position of his groping hand. Where the fingers hadj followed each other along her gash, separating the lips by the thickness of a single finger, they now lay across the widening trough and wedged it open to hand's width. They penetrated to the floor ol the slit and lingered at the rim of her cunt mouth Then Jim ran one fingertip lovingly around the thick rim and slipped it into the gulping hole.
"Ahhh! Mmmra!" Her pleasure welled up into her throat as low moans of approval and she felt her hips jerk back and forward.
Exploring, Jim's ringers moved away from her cunt mouth and forward along her slit to her clitoris. They rubbed along its sides, urgent where Hank's caresses had been quietly coaxing.
"Ummm . . . mmmmp! Slow, slow, Jim!" She couldn't control the abrupt reactions of her body. "Doctor!" Her hips leaped backward and her knees straightened and her shoulders swung forward. She slammed her ass back to the limit oL her ability to move but failed to escape the gentle hand. The fingers rubbed harder and worked the hood of her clitoris off her fiery lump and she lashed forward with her hips. Beside herself with the swiftly rising intensity of sensation, she jerked from side to side and her hair flew about her back in the violence of her sudden contortions.
"Good God!" she gasped fiercely. "Oh, God, no!"
Two fingers trapped her clitoris and another rubbed the tip with tiny, circular motions. She felt the heat and wetness of her engorged cunt lips and the throbbing in her vagina. Her belly ridged in spasms of furious response. She flung herself about on her arms while her feet jerked wildly at the restraints.
"Oh, Jim! Jesus, Jim, go slow! EEEE!" Both men seemed to be intent now on driving her excitement up as fast as possible. A hand thrust to the heart of her pussy and fingers plunged into her cunt. A hand brutally gripped one cheek of her ass and fingers probed at her rectum. Each of her men grabbed one tit in his mouth to chew the spongy flesh and suck at the nipples. And a third pair of hands joined to caress her straining torso in long rapid strokes that added fury to her writhing.
"Oh God, oh, God!" she wailed. "You ' you'll make me come! Ohhh, pleeease!" She heard the tremor in her voice and knew it came only from the shudder of delight that had seized her.
"Hold it... " Jim spoke in a low, even tone. "Hold it! She's ready!"
Chapter 5
Suddenly Pam felt only Jim's hands. She still squirmed on the fingers he had thrust into her cunt and he continued to massage her clitoris, but the other caresses had stopped.
"Big ... help!" she panted heavily. "I... can't stop myself!" She heard quick movements behind her in the dining room without being able to look; she was too deeply submerged in the whirlpool of sensation. She didn't care how crude she looked or sounded. Her only conscious thought was the awful hunger in her pussy.
"We've got to stop!" she cried. "Jim! The game! It's time to untie me so we can fuck!" She tried to interrupt his incessant massage of her clitoris by using THE word. "FUCK, JIM! FUCK .. . FUCK . . . FUCK!"
A cold, hard edge touched her ass and she drove her hips forward. The edge followed, pinning her in the painful, arched position.
"No! God, no! I can't stand to stay like this!"
"Ready," she heard Barry say. "Jim. Table's ready!"
"Oh! Okay! Quick, now!"
As if by magic, the stimulus stopped. Jim's hands left her and she sagged weakly. She wasn't even strong enough to get her head erect; she couldn't force it from between her arms.
The tension in her limbs eased abruptly and strong hands tipped her onto the table that Barry and Hank had moved to her. She lay still, confused and dazed, while they unlashed her wrists. In a moment someone-Barry, of course, since Hank was going to want Jim to lay her-would carry her to the couch or the bedroom and give her the cock she wanted so urgently. Except that they were tying her wrists-separately-and extending them toward the sides of the table. By the time she knew that, they were secured and her jerking and tugging produced nothing but frustration. Then they were doing something to her legs. They had raised them and spread them and were tying the ropes to the columns so her thighs made a broad, flat angle and her buttocks thrust over the edge of the table and her pussy gaped at the ceiling.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" she shrieked her anguish at them. "God, don't make me wait! I want to fuck!"
It was a little more like being on the bed, though, she reflected fleetingly as she sank again into the fog of arousal. Hank-Pam briefly recognized the gentler touch-caught at one nipple and sucked it. Barry touched his wife's head with his and sucked Pam's other breast. Fingers stroked Pam's distended pussy lips and toyed with her clitoris.
She knew she'd never been so widely spread. Not even during her occasional pelvic examinations had her doctor parted her thighs at such a grotesque angle. But his objective had been something else. She raised her head and stared between Hank's and Barry's in time to see Jim's face approach her flaming twat. Horror clamped a powerful grip on her belly; she couldn't believe he'd be so crude as to examine her so closely. But somehow he didn't seem to be trying to examine her. He thrust his jaw out of sight behind the mass of black pubic hair and she saw his tongue extend between his lips.
"No! Oh, no! Not with your mouth!"
But his tongue touched her pussy lips and dragged along their moist slopes and made her cry out with startled pleasure. She felt it was terribly crude and revolting, but the sensation was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Fingers had neither the texture of Jim's tongue or its warmth. Her pussy lips quivered and she felt her cunt mouth yawn. She heaved her hips up and rocked her head back, straining to extract the utmost from this unique experience.
"He eats pussy!" she'd heard her classmates say of some boy during her high school days. They'd said it in whispers and with awe that anyone could be so depraved. And she'd shuddered at the horror of it.
Now, her belly churning with the savage delight Jen's tongue produced in her own pussy, she trembled at the revelation of joys she'd never imagined. He lapped deep into her slit. Ferocious excitement stabbed at her and made her moan happily. His supple tongue dipped into the circle of agar cunt mouth and caressed the thick rim and she writhed with delight. He licked forward and touched the edge of her clitoral hood and made her gasp and slam her ass against the table's edge. He raised his face for a moment and rested his hands the hard inner muscles of her thighs while his fingers stripped back the hood and exposed her clitoris. She shuddered and heaved a tremulous sigh.
while his finger screwed itself back and forth inside. He sucked fiercely on her clitoris and his tongue scrubbed its fiery tip. She twisted one shoulder off the table and then the other and her knees pumped in a frenzy of response. Her pussy gyrated while the tension in her belly rose and she was suddenly convulsed by the spasms of orgasm. Rigid and trembling, she sawed her legs back and forth and wrenched at the ropes that held her arms outstretched. Her mouth opened as if to scream but no sound came but the groan of trapped air as her throat constricted. Her ass chewed at Jim's finger and her empty cunt gulped vainly.
With a racking sob, she collapsed and hung motionless against the table.
"Hank! Barry!" she muttered as tears filled her eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Oh, I couldn't help it! I was awful!"
Barry kissed the tears from her cheeks. "Hush . . . take it easy, baby! It's okay!" "Oh, Barry! I feel so ashamed!" "Easy, baby! Easy!"
She twisted. "I feel so crude, though!" Beyond Barry she saw Hank straining to Jim, the doctor's hand inside her skirt and Hank's hips jerking furiously. "Barry! Untie me, honey ... I want you to hold me."
He released her from the bonds and helped her off the table. She knew he was going to take her to .the bedroom and she wanted to go, but a fierce sense of affection caught her and as they passed the sofa she caught at him and pulled him with her onto the couch. He stumbled and fell, and she collapsed on top of him, laughing giddily.
"Look at us!" she chortled. And then, "Oh, Lord, honey! He's so hard!" She wiggied against lis hard-on.
Hank pulled back from her tit and grinned. "Like that, sweetie?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, Hank! Brrr! I never felt anything like it!" "Pretty good, huh?" "Oooo ..."
"Waifll he really gets going!"
"Eee! Eeeee!" Pam's body leaped into rigid extension and she rolled her head.
Jim had her clitoris in his mouth, his lips tight around its base and his tongue coating its tip with saliva. He sucked and needles of internal pressure set up a vibrant, terrifying sense of expansion. She jerked at the ropes that held her ankles, swinging on them and twisting her hips frantically. Her belly writhed and her shoulders scrubbed the table.
"Please, please!" she shrieked. "Oh, fuck me, please!"
His fingers probed at the wetness of her cunt mouth and rubbed her anus. Inflamed beyond reasoning, she thrust herself at them and groaned eagerly. Again and again Jim dipped into the pot of oozing fluid and dragged it onto her anus. And the repeated fondling aroused desires as unfamiliar as the thrills of his mouth at her pussy. He pricked his fingers at the tight sphincter of her ass and held it there, making it creep inward with every wink of the tormented rim.
"Omigod! Omigod!" she moaned. "Jab me! Get it over! QUICK, QUICK!"
He thrust hard and confidently. The broadj fingers buried itself in her ass and the knuckles ofj his fist drove against the surrounding flesh. She I flung her hips into the air with a scream and rotated them madly.
"It burns! It burns! Oh, God Almighty, push! HARD, HARD! SUCK ME! SUCK ME!"
His hand twisted in the gaping crack of her ass twinge of embarrassment and guilt she felt at the sight of her thick pubic hair lying over his and her jerking thighs now tight against his hips and her boobs leaping, was faint by contrast to the fierce sense of pleasure she got out of knowing she was giving Barry something he couldn't have forced from her.
"I did!" she panted. "I did say it was crude and vulgar. .. for the woman to be on top! But oh, Barry! It's so awful good!"
"Just no way that's better, baby!" He drove his hips up under her.
"After .. . after what happened over there, there's nothing bad about this!'' she insisted, surprised to find she believed herself.
"Never was, sugar."
Then, suddenly, to her horror, she saw the apecters of her mother and father before her. Framed in ghostly, carved mountings like the ones their photographs were in on her dresser, they looked in her imagination exactly like the sour-faced historical portraits she remembered from school. And their puckered expressions as she anagined them watching her jerked a hysterical fcurst of laughter from her.
"Jesus, sugar! What the hell?"
"Oh, Barry, darling! I couldn't ever tell you! But it isn't you. Oh, darling, I love you, I love you!" In a frenzy of defiance to the imaginary characters, she flung her ass against him and pounded herself od his cock. Her hair flew and her body jerked awkwardly. But the sensations drove her excitement higher and made her perspire and generated yet more strenuous bouncing.
She saw Barry's wide-eyed curiosity yield to abeer animal enjoyment and thrilled at the strength jaath which his hands closed on her waist. Then she It was hardly fair, she reflected. Barry had stimulated her under the crudest imaginable conditions and had let Jim make her come. Now she was exhausted and Barry wasn't going to get any relief.
"Oh, honey!" she said sympathetically. "Barry, did that get you excited?"
"Excited? It's just damn fool luck I didn't dump a load right there on the table!"
"Ohhh, Barry!" Exhausted or not, she wasn't going to let Barry suffer because she'd gotten an unscheduled climax.
Lying over him, she thrust one knee between his thigh and the back of the sofa. She squirmed to capture his cockhead, gritted her teeth angrily at her lack of success, and jerked her knees under her. Rising on them, astride his hips, she caught his cock in her hand and elevated it. Settling, she nestled it in the still-steaming core of her pussy and felt her cunt mouth slide out over the hard head. Barry stared at her with disbelief.
She arrested her downward plunge. "Barry! Something wrong?"
"Wrong? I. . . hell, no, Pam! Hell, no,i everything's just right! But you always said it was . . . oh, Christ! Never mind! I'm wasting time!"
She shivered at the pulse of excitement that raced through her when he laid his hands on her thighs. Still gazing into his eyes she thrust herself onto his cock. The broad head plowed along her vagina and she clamped her cunt on the inward gliding shaft. Her pussy slammed onto the root of his cock and she bounced herself. To her astonishment her excitement rocketed. She was as greedy for cock as if there had been no orgasm. Her thighs jacked her frantically on the buried cock and she stared down at herself in wonder. The at the opposite edge, her knees parted and her feet kicking at the air. Jim's belly flattened her buttocks as he stood, knees bent in a semi-crouch, and battered at her. With a heavy shudder Pam jerked her head around and pressed her face into Barry's chest. She was sure from the positions and the high angle that Jim had his cock in Hank's ass. He didn't have to, she admitted, but he'd used his hand that way when he'd had her laid out helpless for him. Still, she didn't want to believe Hank would let him do that-not in the ass with that great cock of his. And not in such a degrading position.
"He's . . . Barry, he's not, is he?"
"Huh?" She felt Barry stir and knew he was peering at the others. "Oof!" he exclaimed.
"Where, Barry?" She had to fight herself to ask. But she persisted. "Where's he got it?"
Barry chuckled gently and caressed her. "Easy, sugar," he murmured soothingly. "Easy there. One thing sure, she'd never get pregnant from this reaming."
"Ugh!"
He chuckled again. "The doctor must have mighty winning ways. Hank's pretty fussy about making it this way. She's got to know a guy pretty well to let him bugger her."
"Ugh! Barry! Did you have to say that?"
Laughter rumbled in his chest. "It's impossible! Sugar, it's impossible to believe how square you are!" He stifled her protest. "I know, I know. You never pretended anything else. But you're like out erf a storybook!"
She clung to him, shaken and disillusioned. He and Hank had seemed so safe to her. They'd seemed open and relaxed and natural and her sexual relations with them had fallen into a pattern saw his jaws clench and felt the eruption of his semen in the core of her belly and the sudden, powerful contractions of her vagina that milked his cock. She ground her pussy on his groin and fell forward to clutch at him while her orgasm gripped her. She squirmed with contentment and a strange sort of pride when his spasms subsided with hers and he hugged her to him.
"Mmmm ..." she sighed. "I guess I was a little hung-up about that. I'm glad I learned better."
"Me, too, Pam." He sounded entirely serious. "A notion like that can be a goddamn tragedy if it keeps you from getting all the goodies out of your sex life you ought to. Hell, there's ..."
"No, Barry! Don't say it!" She pressed her fingertips to his lips. "You're not getting around me that way! Just because being on top's good enough to make me give in doesn't mean I'm going to be a plain tramp!"
He sighed and waited for her to uncover his lips. When she did he said, "Nothing plain about you, baby! If you were a tramp, you'd be a spectacular one!"
"You're not going to turn me into one that way."
Barry smiled knowingly and hugged her. She sighed in contentment and extended her legs along his, pressing his thighs with the insides of her knees. "You're awful nice, Barry," she murmured.
Sounds of violent activity reached them from the dining area and Pam winced at Hank's squeals and moans of pleasure. She tried hard to pretend she heard nothing, but the deep urgency in her friend's voice overcame her reluctance and she twisted in Barry's arms. Embarrassed for fear he'd catch her peeking, she glanced past her own arm to see Hank bending over the table, her hands groping that soothed her conscience. She hadn't dreamed they were masking depths of depravity that could make Barry call her square when she winced at his casual reference to the terrible thing Jim was doing to'Hank. And the thing that made it worse was the way she reacted inside. She remembered the delicious pleasure of having Jim eat her pussy, the warmth and skill of his mouth making it a beautiful, sensitive act instead of the disgusting one she'd always imagined. The tenderness and pervading sense of affectionate intimacy had been so intense she'd happily accept that offering if it ever came again. And the finger thrust into her rectum had rung her like a bell. It had awakened her system in a strange, primitive way she couldn't push out of her thoughts. It was frightening to have to admit to herself she was even now tingling with curiosity as to how that great cock would have felt where his finger had been. If either Jim or Barry should lead her to that table right now she'd bend over it as Hank was doing and submit to what her friend was so loudly enjoying.
"Oh, God!" she whispered. "Barry, I'm terrible! Don't let me do anything more tonight! Please!"
His arms were strong and warm as he held her and his hands reassured her with their gentle caresses. The security she'd felt slipping away surged back in a comforting tide and she surrendered to her lassitude. It did feel marvelous to lie on him this way and feel his softened cock still encased in her vagina.
They stirred while Hank and Jim were still sprawled exhausted across the table. Hank's legs were locked around Jim's and he sagged forward over her ass, his hands stroking mechanically along her sides while both he and Hank struggled for breath. Pam put on her bra, shrinking from the light and fumbling in her hurry to get dressed before someone should see her in this humiliating state. She drew her dress around her waist and buttoned it there and broke two fingernails trying to get it buttoned around her hips and over her crotch before any of the others should happen to glance in her direction. From that point, though, she managed to get control of herself and finish settling the dress in place without panicky haste.
She wouldn't be safe until she was in her own apartment, she realized. Not that the Tindells-or Jim Parks-were dangerous. Just that she was dangerous to herself while she stayed here. Something had given way in her dam of reserve tonight and she might do almost anything with these three. As if she'd lost her grip on the brake, she felt like a runaway car and knew she couldn't trust herself. She had to have some rest and a chance to repair the shattered structure of her convictions.
Hank insisted on serving coffee and doughnuts afterward. "Got to have something to make up for the energy we burned," she observed with a wicked laugh.
And the postmortem seemed inevitable. Pam suffered intensely through their praise. Good-natured jibes and gentle, thoughtful concessions to her self-condemnation seemed equally effective in destroying her poise. She struggled to avoid complete breakdown and wondered if she was going to wind up leaping from her chair and throwing off her clothes for a wild, reckless finale. But she survived the moment and reached the end of the evening. She was adamant about going alone to her apartment; no way was she going to risk letting anyone else go with her.
The remainder of the night surprised her. She showered and purged herself of whatever traces remained from the orgy and tumbled into bed expecting to face accusations from her "Board of Directors" until morning. Instead she slept almost instantly and awakened to find the morning far advanced. Before she could dwell too much on the previous night she left the apartment and drove out of Barton.
She stopped for a snack before noon and drove into Emporia just after one o'clock. Irritated at herself for having come home and determined not to visit her parents, she stopped at the drug store for a copy of the Emporia Gazette and got back into the car. She turned right on Constitution and drove the six blocks to Twelfth under the arch of stately cottonwoods, leaves rustling under her tires and the delicious scent of fall bonfires stinging her nose. Turning right again on Twelfth, she slowed and swung her car into the narrow drive of the college. Well into the campus, she parked and took the Gazette with her onto the lawn.
She had no intention of reading; the paper was a prop to fend off distractions. All she wanted to do was lie under the half-naked trees and feel her way through the values she'd taken for granted during all the years this campus had represented her haven and sanctuary. Here at the college, where her mother and father had both knelt before the god of education and become priest and priestess in the hallowed army, their beliefs somehow struck their roots. Thousands of institutions like this one dotted the nation, she realized, their traditions and mores solidly anchored in the conservative middle class. She knew students had made love on dark nights under these trees. They'd thrilled to the wickedness of flaunting their sex outside and in a public preserve. But they'd done it traditionally, she was sure, the girl squirming on the grass while the guy got his knees grass-stained. And she was convinced they'd left the campus when they were eventually ordained missionaries in the vast priesthood of teaching with their confidence in no-nonsense sex conventions stronger rather than weaker because of their own speculative adventures.
It all seemed a little depressing today. Watching the giggling couples who were scattered around her, and hearing the squeals when somebody got a hand where it didn't belong irritated her. The whole atmosphere reeked of smugness and superficial conformity. The compulsion that had driven her here for reaffirmation of her own shaken confidence had been a miserable failure.
She shut the rest of the campus out of her mind and breathed deeply. She savored the smells of the dry leaves and rich earth *and watched the great gray squirrels in their sudden dashes. And she let herself drift with the white cloud puffs that drifted in the blue beyond the denuded branches above her.
Chapter 6
Pam crushed a leaf in her hand and held it close to her nose. The scent brought a crowd of images: frost; running gleefully to leap into the center of a great, fragrant pile of leaves like it; jack-o'-lanterns; screams from the stadium and long, happy walks along the river bank with Seth. It reminded her she had only one day off this week, too, and that she'd better get back to her apartment or she'd be coming to it in the dark. She scrambled to her feet and picked up the Gazette; she'd drop it in a trash barrel on her way back to the car. But the heading over a front-page item caught her attention.
MURDER INDICATED, it said. One column wide, the heading was in letters hardly blacker than the type of the story itself. She was struck by the contrast to the headlines she'd seen the day before. She read, the calmness of the heading turning gruesome and macabre as she digested the brief story.
The nurse death in Barton has been labeled murder, went the first line. Miss Bowman did not succumb to a natural heart attack, the pathologist's report reveals. Although positive diagnosis in such cases is difficult, the findings yield a high likelihood that the young lady suffered heart stoppage as the result of air introduced into a major vein.
There was a longer paragraph following, in which the reporter explained how an air bubble could stop the heart and emphasized the cautious way the pathologist's conclusion had been stated. But Pam merely skimmed it. She dropped the paper numbly into a barrel and went to her car. She knew now she had to get home before dark. She drove mechanically, her thoughts whirling �round the new certainty Nora Bowman had been ] deliberately killed. The notes and last night's anonymous telephone call were real, looming facts. She couldn't dismiss them as crank-initiated. She was in real danger and had no way to protect herself, unless running away would take her out of The murderer had apparently wanted his [identity confused with that of the rapist. That Recounted for the way he'd left Nora. Of course, ahe couldn't rule out the possibility the rapist had ione this killing, except that it didn't sound like Bam. And the other victims of the rapist-when they'd talked of their experience to their fellow nurses-had made it clear he raped for one purpose only. He'd never been sadistic. Brutal, perhaps, and certainly frightening in the way he'd spread-eagled las naked victim before gratifying his needs, but mft physically sadistic. And he'd actually acted Concerned over their safety, untying them afterward and being sure they were all right before vanishing.
f Still, the victims had definitely all been nurses, inccept for the one receptionist from Dr. Allen's jnffice in nearby Gillmore. And Bowman was a aanse-an aide, but evidently that wasn't an Kiportant distinction to the rapist.
The telephone call was something else. It could have been an effort to throw suspicion on Dr. Parks. It could have been a genuine attempt to scare her away from Jim-a gruesome effort conceived in twisted jealousy. Or it could have been a horrible practical joke by somebody who knew far more about Pam's private affairs than anybody ought to know. Whoever the voice was, Pam had as much as been told Jim had murdered Nora Bowman. And she wasn't ready even to consider that a possibility.
If she were to accept the idea he could do all the weird things for sex kicks the voice had intimated, she would have to bring a halt to their relationship. She wasn't about to turn into the kind of woman who would participate in that kind of activity. But that wouldn't mean she could buy for a moment the idea Jim was a killer. His thing about fighting death in the patients when they were so certainly going to die made that impossible.
Since nothing made sense or struck her as a likely answer to the mystery, she had to be satisfied with the uncomfortable admission she waa sure only of one thing.
"It's somebody in the hospital," she said aloud. "Maybe it's more intuition than facts, but I know! it's somebody in the hospital."
She reached home before dark. She was proud. of herself, because she'd actually beat sunset by j nearly an hour. And on the way upstairs she remembered she'd promised to go to the movieii with Hank and Barry.
"Oh, Lord!" She laughed at herself. "Whole day shot and now you remember!"
She could get an hour's rest-maybe two-befoul they'd be at the door for her. She was sleepy from the drive and hated the thought of dozing at the!
movie. When she did that Barry teased her unmercifully.
She showered and fixed her hair, then slipped into her shorty dressing robe. By itself, it wasn't really decent, she admitted with a giggle, but it did give her a sense of being covered, at least a couple of inches below her bottom, and it wouldn't make her sweat in the heat of the Indian summer they were experiencing. Because her living room did have a little air circulation, she pulled the day bed that served as a couch into the middle of the room and flung herself onto it. She was asleep before she could begin to review the day.
She awoke while it was still light. Groggy, she heard a light rap on the door and groaned. She guessed it was Hank, coming over to be sure she remembered about their plans.
"Come on in," she called resignedly.
The door opened and Jim Parks came in.
"Oh!" Pam squealed and grabbed at the hem of her shorty, tugging it down and holding it against her thighs. "Jim! What..."
His eyes gleamed and he dropped to the edge of the day bed. He bent to kiss her and her sleepiness evaporated. Suddenly eager, she gulped at his mouth and clutched at his shoulders. His hand found her thigh and caressed it, his fingers insistent as they thrust into the dampness between her legs.
She mumbled against his hps. "Don't, honey! My goodness!"
But she knew how she must have looked to him, ;he sheer pink bed jacket merely softening the details of her curves and emphasizing the long, graceful legs in their nudity. She also knew the devastating effect his caresses would have on her. Already she was tensing with desire and twisting her hips at the urgent suggestion of those sure fingers.
She wrenched her mouth free and pushed at him. "Jim, honey! No! I'm going out with Hank and Barry tonight!"
"What time?" he asked, his face close to hers and his hand on the hairy bulge of her pussy.
"A quarter to eight!" She strained her knees apart and thrust her pussy against his hand, then caught herself and clamped her thighs together.
"Lots of time." He grinned and pressed his lips to hers.
"No, no!" She jerked away and rolled onto her belly, reaching with her foot to scramble off the bed.
Jim pinned her to the mattress, his hand spanning her waist. His other hand wedged between her legs at the tops of her thighs and dipped into her slit. She jerked and twisted helplessly, her dignity shattered and fiery longing threatening to drown her resentment at his abrupt assault.
"Good heavens!" she said, panting with her exertion. "Nothing's sacred P' "Of course it is!" he laughed happily. "You've got a sacred pussy and I'm sacrificing to it!"
"You're awful! Jim, you're absolutely homy!"
"Guilty!"
"Honey ..." She twitched her bottom into the air and reached under herself to grab at his hand. "Please, honey! You're getting me all excited!" She raked her cheek across the slip cover and clawed at his fingers.
But he buried them between her pussy lips and doubled them, grinding them on the floor of her slit and forcing a groan of delight from her.
"Oh, damn!" she exclaimed, her voice shaking. She pulled her arm free and grabbed an edge of the mattress with each hand. Her breasts flattened against the cover and her toes hooked at the sides of the bed while she bounced her hips in response to the rising flood of heat in her pussy.
She was aware of Jim's movement when he stood, but his hand stayed at her pussy and one finger found her clitoris. She kept her face buried, content to savor the delicious sensations that surged over her and too embarrassed at her position to look at him. After a long, delight-filled time of writhing to his clitoral massage, she realized he was playing with her twat with both hands. The fingers of one hand slid under her to grope her mound, burying themselves in her pubic hair while his thumb rolled her clitoris. His other hand caressed the inner slopes of her pussy lips with quick, powerful strokes.
Tingling fiercely, she thrust her knees outward to the edges of the bed and thrust her bottom into the air. She felt her bed jacket lifted off her buttocks and dropped over her shoulders. She shuddered at the obscene, begging picture she must present, but her desire drove her past caring. She caught a fold of the slip cover in her teeth and chewed savagely at the realization that she didn't care what he was doing or how she was reacting. All that mattered was the glorious rush of joy she felt and the knowledge she'd do whatever she had to for it at this moment. In a fierce, defiant token of her commitment she jerked her knees up along the sides of the mattress until they were even with her hips, holding her ass in the air and thrusting her �ussy into the open for him.
Jim brushed the swollen, unfolded faces of her pussy lips with the flat of his hand, spreading her thickening wetness and smearing her with its slippery coating from clitoris to asshole. The frequent contacts at the tight ring of her anus aroused vivid recollections of the night before and produced a flurry of hip movements. She was even willing for him to drive his finger up her ass again, she discovered with horror. Not only willing, but eager. With his dick in her cunt and a finger up her ass he'd drive her into a screaming, bucking orgasm.
He got back on the bed-between her wide-flung feet-and wedged his knees between her parted thighs and under her belly. Sometime he'd gotten out of his pants, she realized with a shaky grin to herself. And as he inched further under her she knew he'd gotten rid of his shorts with them. She felt his cockhead at her cunt mouth and slammed back onto it, engulfing his cock with a rush of joy. Modesty forgotten, she pounded herself on the thick cock and battered Jim's belly with her buttocks. He gripped her hips tightly now, ignoring her clitoris.
In her frenzy she flung herself off the end of his cock. She rotated her hips frantically in an effort to recapture it and felt its slippery nose bumping all around her cunt mouth. But one of Jim's hands left her hip and the blunt cockhead settled on her anus, hot and throbbing and wet.
She grunted against the slip cover with dismay. "No! Mmp-mm! Not that!" She jerked her hands to the mattress by her shoulders and heaved herself onto hands and knees. "No, Jim!"
He bent over her and caught her wrists, snatching her hands out from under her and pinning them at the small of her back. With her breasts and shoulders pressed tightly to the mattress and her thighs wedged apart by his body she could do nothing but kick. She flailed with her feet and hit nothing. Calmly, Jim trapped one foot and thrust it under his shin. In a moment he had imprisoned the other the same way. His cockhead nestled against her anus again, pressed hard enough to hold it in place, and he paused.
"Don't fight, puss," he told her in a low tone. "Don't fight and you'll love it."
"No-no-no ..." she whispered hopelessly.
He pushed his cock and she felt her ass opening to receive it. The broad head slid inward on the plentiful lubricant that coated his cockhead as well as her ass and she held her breath while her anus widened around the bulging knob. She cried out at the fierce burning sensation she'd experienced the previous night, but she knew it would pass quickly. With a sudden lessening of tension her ass slid past the shoulders of the entering bulb and closed on his shaft. There was an eerie, rushing sensation in her ass and a sudden prickling as his pubic hair bunched in the wide-open crack.
"Jim, Jim! Oh, God!" She stiffened her knees and dragged her feet free. Clamping her ass on the heavy base of his cock she arched her back and thrust her legs out behind him.
Hot pulses shook her as the pumping of her own heart and the pressure of arterial blood in the tissues around his cock stimulated sensitive nerves. The mere presence of that inescapable cylinder was heightening her excitement with every throb of her heart and overcoming her horror at the fresh degradation.
Jim clamped her ass against him, his hand firm under her belly, and worked his knees free. He lowered her to the mattress, his belly tight to her buttocks, and released her hands. She groaned and writhed and pulled her knees together under his legs. He braced himself, his hands pushed into the mattress and the weight of his lower torso on her ass. But his knees found support outside her legs and his hips jerked to pound his cock in and out of her taut asshole.
"Honnneeey!" she squealed, the heavy blows on her ass a stimulus she couldn't evade. "Oh ... oh ... I... do ... love it!"
"For a change, puss." he grunted. "How's it really feel?"
"Hard and .. . smooth! Oooh!"
"Just... relax and ... ride .. . with it!" He panted, each breath a great grunt.
She seized the mattress cover in her fists and bit again at a fold. Her breasts burned as she surged on them and she raised her feet and pulled them toward her until her heels rested on his hard buttocks. She kicked, beating a happy tattoo on the jerking mounds while he pounded her belly into the mattress.
She didn't expect to come-there wasn't any reason why she should, she reflected-but her excitement continued rising and her body thrashed in its handicapped position.
"Good Lord, honey! I am! You're making me come!"
He dropped on her back and drove his hand under her to scoop at her clitoris.
"Ohhh! Honey-honey-honey! FUCK HARD! NOW!"
Her belly churned with her contractions and her ass bit down on the unyielding cock buried in it. Jim groaned fiercely and stopped thrusting. He crashed once more against her buttocks and held himself there while his belly shook and his cock pulsed: With every pulse she felt a fresh spurt of heat in her belly and dug her heels into his buttocks harder. And she shivered violently with his last frantic squeeze.
He raised himself on his elbows and let the perspiration on her back evaporate while his breath hissed in and out. Pam shuddered and clung to the slip cover, still acutely conscious of the fullness of her rectum and of the savage intensity of her recent orgasm.
When she'd caught her breath, she whispered to Jim. "Why, Jim? Why this way?"
He didn't answer at once and in the silence she puzzled over what had happened. Jim knew how she felt about making a circus out of screwing. He knew she was sensitive and dignified and easily shocked. There was no shortage of girls who probably wallowed in the thrills they could get out of weird novelty in sex. Nora Bowman had been notorious for the things she'd do for a man and there were surely others just like her. Why, then, couldn't Jim take the sex Pam offered on her terms instead of humiliating and degrading her? This session had been the worst of her life in terms of unacceptable acts. Hardly anything could have violated her sense of propriety more violently. True, she'd been so overstimulated by the time he'd buried his cock in her ass that the experience had been one of gut-wrenching pleasure but the principle remained. If there was anything at all to recommend a scene like this it would have to be the man's reaction. Not once in the times she'd let Jim make love to her had she heard the gut-level groan of passion he'd uttered just now. And not once had she felt him tremble with such abandoned lust while he came. Even now she could squeeze his limp cock with her ass in a gesture of affection and forgiveness and feel the tensing of his belly. But this crude mating was a lot to ask of a woman when her pussy was eager and ready.
"Why, honey?" she asked again, her voice soft and tender.
"To loosen you up, puss." As if he'd caught the unfortunate overtones of his reply he chuckled and added, "Psychologically, I mean! A woman who loves sex as much as you deserves to enjoy it. She's cheating herself when she's all uptight about it."
"But doctor, that's her business, isn't it?"
"Puss, face it. Anybody who lets me screw her makes her sex attitudes my business. Besides, you're something special to me, much as I hate to admit it. And I grew up on sex that was an adventure every time out!"
"Why, Doctor Parks!" She giggled to neutralize the sudden leap of emotion his remark had caused. "The doctor-patient relationship has to remain one of scientific detachment on the part of the physician." She assumed the severe tone of the teacher she'd resented most in training.
Jim laughed contentedly. "That's why I don't take sexy broads for patients, nurse. And that bullshit about professional decorum between doctors and nurses never did stick to me." He slipped easily from bantering to solemnity. "You're maybe the best lay I ever came across, Pam. Turn you loose from those notions of what's proper and you 11 be one of the smoothest women in this part of the country. Fact is, if you get rid of that corset of taboos, I don't think there's a broad anywhere with the poise you 11 have."
She stifled all of the retorts that crowded into her mind. Jim had said more than he'd meant to. He wasn't a crusader. Even his hang-up about death was some kind of personal feud. If her poise meant anything to him it had to be on the same level. And the only woman whose poise was much of a concern to a doctor was his wife or his office nurse. Jim wasn't an office type doctor, which sharply defined his concern. , At last she replied. "You didn't just do it this way because it was the way that appealed to you at the moment."
"Hell, no! I like it this way, all right. Stick an ass in my face that wiggles the way yours does and I'm likely to get a notion to shove my way in. But that wasn't the main idea this time."
He might as well have said outright he meant to marry her. He didn't know he'd told her so plainly, but she did. And it gave her a curious, bittersweet pain to make a decision of that nature while the man in the picture lay crushing her ass, his" cock still tightly trapped in it. She was certain of one fact: she wasn't going to marry a man who had to make her over first. Damned if she was going to be a custom-built wife.
"Thanks, doctor,"- she said softly. "You're sweet-and honest. But no thanks. I don't want to be rebuilt." She stirred. "You keep me here much longer and Barry and Hank are going to be awful pissed off. Barry's a nut about getting to the show on time."
"Hell, there's a lot of time!" Jim protested.
"Maybe. But I've got to shower again . .. and douche ... and my hair's all gone to hell."
"Oh." He laughed ruefully. "Okay, puss. You win." He backed cautiously away, his cock tugging at her before it popped free. "Okay if I take a shower with you?"
"Like hell you do!" she exclaimed. "Get in there and take one now if you like. I'll wait. But we're not playing games in there!"
She took advantage of his rush to the shower to pull a modest, unappealing housecoat around her as a precaution. His face expressed disappointment when he emerged naked and glowing and saw her in it, but she laughed and pushed past him. And when she'd finished in the bathroom he'd left the apartment.
She had a sharp sense of loss. She'd as much as told him to go woman-hunting somewhere else, she supposed. And she thought the warmth she felt when she thought about him must be a fairly advanced stage of love. Certainly the idea of having him vanish from her life hurt like hell. And certainly he had more of the ability to make her pussy tingle-just thinking of him-than any other man ever had. But she wasn't going to be molded that way or stripped of her convictions as to what was proper.
She was in a rebellious turmoil when Hank came to the door for her. She had no idea how she'd manage to sit through a double-feature in Levi Berman's decaying theater tonight. But Hank led her across the hall instead of heading for the stairs.
"Minor crisis, sweetie," muttered Hank. "Well get started as soon as we get it solved."
Barry was dialing the telephone and referring to a list at his elbow.
"What's wrong?" asked Pam.
"Orin and Kathy : . . "
"Doctor Lane? Aren't he and Kathy entertaining Doctor Zuchert and his wife this week?"
"Right! You win the jackpot, nurse! Assistant Director and wife detailed to keep visiting dispenser of federal funds happy and busy! Only Assistant Director runs out of baby-sitter back-up at crucial moment!"
Pam chortled. "Oh, no! How terribly common!"
Hank grinned and shook her head. "It's too; domestic to believe, but it's a real crisis. Zuchert's a Class-A prick, sweetie, and Orin and Kathy were, scheduled to escort him and his wife to the thing Senator Brink's giving tonight." "What's that?"
"Special reception honoring the Zucherts."
"Oh, Lord! Excuse me all to hell! What's the baby-sitter hang-up?"
"Last-minute cancellation."
"And everybody's scrambling to line up another one."
"That's right, honey."
"Why you? You two don't use baby-sitters!"
"But we know the right types. The Lanes have a problem. Those two boys of theirs eat up sitters like breakfast cereal. There isn't a high school girl within a forty-mile radius of Barton who'll go near them."
"How old are they? What's wrong with them?"
Hank laughed hysterically. "They're ten and eight. I don't know what's wrong with them except Orin and Kathy believe in developing young minds as fast as they can soak up knowledge. If they're going to an 'R' movie, the kids go with them. I imagine their dialogue gets under a delicate girl's skin. And they're a bit undisciplined, the way Willa "Willa? Willa Parks?"
"They finally found out she'd sit with the little beasts. From what Kathy says, she's got a magic touch or something. The boys turn into little angels the minute they find out she's going to take care of them. Only Willa dropped out at the last minute tonight. Sick or something."
"Who's Barry trying to get?" asked Pam.
Hank chuckled. "He's going down the roster of Nurses' Aides. Figures they're always on the look-out for an extra buck and won't get scared off if it's hazardous duty." "Any luck?"
"Not yet. Maybe they've heard about the Lane monsters."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Hank! I'll go! You and Barry are going to miss that movie!" Pam grinned. "If Willa can handle them at her age, I certainly can!"
"Oh, sweetie! Would you? I mean, we'll go to the movie tomorrow night. There's a feature on you were talking about last month."
"Sure. What have I got to lose? Can't have the whole hospital jeopardized because we can't turn up a baby-sitter."
"Get off the phone, Barry. Jim was right."
"Jim! What's he got to do with this?"
Hank bubbled with merriment. "He got in on the beginning of it. Stopped by for a quick drink just about the time Orin called. Y'know? He said you'd perk up if there was a challenge."
"What else did dear Jim say about it?"
"Well, he did say the reason Willa managed the boys so well was she'd had plenty of practice while he was a kid."
"So much for my love interest. Come on. We'd better get over there so they can get started!"
"Okay."
"Wait! Better have Barry let them know." "Sure."
Chapter 7
Pam couldn't believe the Lanes had so much baby-sitter trouble when she saw the boys. Both were quiet and mannerly and the eight-year-old wrenched her emotions with his blond ringlets and rosebud mouth and enormous blue eyes. The older brother-Tommy, his mother had called him when pleading for his good behavior-had thick, reddish-brown hair like his father and solemn eyes as nearly black as Jim Parks'. They were slight, rather than robust children. And they studied her as gravely as their dog did.
Now there might lie a problem, Pam decided. The basset, Winky, was obviously horny. He squatted uneasily and trembled while his jowls dripped and a half-developed hard-on leered redly beneath his belly. He'd probably try her leg every chance he got and be scratching at the door between times.
Tommy and Billy continued to stare at her after their parents had left. They were so quiet and their stares so disconcerting that Pam resorted to directed activity.
"Games?" she said. "What about games?"
"Yes." Tommy's voice was thoughtful.
"Okay. What kind do you like?"
"Indians."
"Good! Me, too." All boys liked to play Indian, she thought smugly. Give them make-believe tomahawks and war whoops and they lost all track of time.
Tommy smiled uncertainly. "For real, Pam?"
"For real." She was already ahead of the game, she decided, congratulating herself. In the first place, she'd hit on the idea of games and gotten a commitment out of the boys. In the second place, they were ready to call her by her first name. And that kind of rapport was a must.
"Me big Indian. Him little Indian. Both braves." Tommy gestured toward cherubic Billy.
Billy's eyes twinkled impishly. "Her prisoner."
Tommy nodded. "Colonel's woman. Braves capture."
"Of course!" Indian braves always took prisoners. That was the way of the West. She smiled, confident they'd be no problem.
"You wait. Braves hold council."
The boys scurried from the room and across the entryway. She listened to their clatter as they stormed up the stairs and overhead to where she supposed their room was. In a moment she heard the returning rush.
Tommy called to her. "You come. Start."
She grinned broadly and went to the stairs. Both boys crouched behind the grillework that screened the stairway, sitting just above the level of her eyes. "Prisoner might run," Tommy told her. "We tie."
Now here was where a squeamish baby-sitter could blow the whole assignment. Draw the line at an innocent requirement like that and you'd lose the boys. "Of course," said Pam simply.
"Reach here." Tommy laid his hand on a figure in the grillework.
She gripped the ironwork where his hand was. Whatever knots he tied would be easy enough to squirm out of if she wearied of the game. But he snapped a toy handcuff onto her wrist and latched the mate to the grille.
He grinned self-consciously and mumbled. "Braves capture soldier's handcuffs."
"Sure." Being toys, the cuffs would yield to a sharp tug, she suspected.
She reached. Tommy certainly wanted his prisoner's hands well separated. The angel drew her shoulders taut and stretched her blouse indecently. She'd have cringed at such a posture if there had been a man around.
She was their prisoner, without a doubt, she conceded silently. Pressed to the grille, which ran ornamentally from floor to ceiling, she could feel the cold iron too readily through her clothes. And she had to lean back to avoid letting her breasts thrust through two made-to-order gaps with too much appeal.
"Me Dusty-Shaft," announced Tommy.
"And me Little Fox!" Billy said proudly.
Pam frowned. Dusty-Shaft was the name of the picture Barry and Hank had told her about. It was the name of the main character, too, she recalled, while Little Fox had been Dusty-Shaft's loyal stooge. "Only reason for the 'R' was the colonel's wife," Hank had said. "Spent damn hear the whole picture tied up naked while the Indians thought up ways to make her squirm. Shit, might as well have been 'GP', almost. They did give one nice close-up of her titties, but she was in the distance or at the edge of the scene most of the time. And they left it pretty much up to your imagination what they were doing to make her jerk." Hank had laughed wickedly. "Probably felt her up while they were doing the shooting. That's what her expression looked like."
Tommy reached through the grille and started to unbutton Pam's blouse. She lunged backward and his eyes widened.
"Prisoner damn lot of trouble," he proclaimed. "Fix that."
He vanished up the stairs and came racing back down. Without pausing at her head, he ran to the bottom and came around behind her. He reached around her and passed a belt-clearly one of his father's-through the grillework. She knew he was threading the end through the buckle at the small of her back and she resisted when he thrust against her. But he goosed her, his hand sure and accurate, and she snapped her buttocks together and slammed her belly against the iron. The belt tightened viciously and held, pinning her firmly to the bars.
Returning to his place on the steps, Tommy smiled at her. "Lot fine prisoner now," he told her with a grunt. And he proceeded to unbutton her blouse.
As if through long practice, he succeeded in astonishingly little time. He reached through the bars and around her and pulled her blouse up to fashion a tight roll across the backs of her shoulders. Then he came off the stairs at once to unfasten the back of her bra. To her horror, both boys understood the mechanism that served for adjusting cup elevation by the shoulder straps and they had the straps uncoupled from the cups in no time. They pulled the bra from between her and the grillework and surveyed her naked upper torso with pleased approval.
"Prisoner damn fine tits." Tommy stared at her boobs where they protruded through the grille squares. "Damn fine chew."
"No!" she gasped as each boy bent his head to one of her breasts and began to suck earnestly at a nipple.
Jerking at the cuffs was a waste of effort and hard on her wrists, she discovered. Toys or not, the cuffs were sturdy and effective. Nor could she withdraw her breasts from their inviting position; the belt held her tightly and prevented any motion more than enough to set the heavy cones to jiggling. The sensation was novel to her. Both boys had small hands, even for their ages, and they gripped her boobs like jugs while they busied their mouths at the nipples. They sucked greedily and noisily and their tongues coaxed her swelling buttons as if in honest expectation of milk. Thrills chased up and down her body and tightened her muscles. She sucked hard for air and blew it out through pursed lips and tight-set teeth. She sagged with a thankful shudder when they released the quivering tits and came down the steps.
But relief turned quickly to new horror when Tommy unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt and unzipped it. She jammed her crotch against a bar to hamper the boy but he worked the snug garment easily over her buttocks and hips. She felt the skirt slide over her thighs and crumple as it fell to the floor. She bit her lip to keep from screaming at him when he seized the top of her panties and started rolling them down. If she could only restrain her personal inhibitions, she reminded herself desperately, the boys would finish this phase of their game and release her. They'd feel warm toward an uncomplaining companion and yield readily to her later instructions. All she had to do was stay cool.
The panties came away from her buttocks. As they tugged down from her crotch and touched the inner surfaces of her thighs she cringed at their dampness. Obviously, the hot tingle in her pussy was accompanied by wetness. When Tommy had her panties at her ankles she awkwardly lifted one foot at a time to allow him to pull skirt and panties out of the way.
He snapped cuffs on her ankles. Quickly and without concern for her abrupt, terrified struggles, he pulled her feet far apart and secured the cuffs to the grille, spread-eagling her. She lay flat against the grille now, incapable of doing anything else. Separating her feet as he had, Tommy had dropped her body until she felt her arms were supporting at least half her weight. And the grillework held her legs straight, preventing any lessening of the lewd angle through knee-bending.
Both boys felt her taut flesh. They ran their hands over her as thoroughly as they might have explored the texture of a new toy. Billy came around onto the lower steps and caressed her quivering belly. He thrust his hand into her pubic hair with glee and wiggled his fingers in the close mat. Pam whimpered and twisted her hips in a vain effort to elude the intimate groping.
Tommy placed both hands on her buttocks and squeezed handfuls of the firm flesh, moving his hands about between squeezes while Pam continued to squirm. She was pressed too tightly to the ironwork to be able to watch the small hand in her pubic hair but could tilt her head back and see the busy movements of Tommy's arms. The older boy's fingers slid to her crack and explored it, starting at the top and edging downward, undisturbed by her desperate tightening of her ass.
The roving hands reached the bottom of her buttocks and slipped under her crotch to finger her hairy pussy lips. She gasped and jerked her hips forward, only to feel Billy's fingers curl under and settle around her clitoris. With another shuddering gasp she thrust backward; she jammed her chest against the iron and pivoted her torso at the small of her back to drive her ass back while her rigid legs strained quivering to hold her away from the questing fingertips.
"Colonel's wife wiggle like hell," observed Tommy.
"Wiggle like hell!" Billy agreed happily.
Tommy pulled her pussy lips apart and caressed their slippery inner faces. Frantic, Pam bumped her groin into the grillework and pushed against it, shaking furiously. Billy pulled his hand away to stare in fascination at her wildly leaping boobs. He reached up squealing with laughter and grabbed one tit with each hand, mauling with delight. Tommy's groping reached the floor of her slit and his fingers intimately nestled in the embrace of her gulping cunt mouth. Groaning to herself with helpless protest, Pam rotated her hips slowly on the persistent hand.
"Braves trade places," Tommy grunted, "Got good handles," Billy replied wistfully. But he gave her tits a last affectionate twist and released them to obey his brother's command.
Tommy lay on his belly on one of the lower steps and reached through the ironwork to finger her pubic hair as Billy had done. He turned his head from time to time to gaze into her face and she realized he was gauging her reactions to the play. She returned his stare with as much poise as she could muster, but when his fingers dipped under her to tug at her clitoris she jerked her face sideways and pressed her mouth against her shoulder. Tommy's assault on her clitoris was no chance rumbling by an ignorant child. She could detect no innocence in the masterful way he caressed the quivering lump and found herself grinding violently with hot response.
The boy slipped his other hand under her with the first and peeled back the hood of her clitoris. As if by long habit, he thrust his fingers to her cunt mouth to coat them with fluid, then returned them to the erect organ and renewed the agonizing massage. Pam cried out incoherently and banged her hips repeatedly into the iron. The excitement Jim had aroused earlier exploded in her with renewed force and whipped her to a frenzy in the hands of the youngsters.
Billy sat crosslegged on the floor behind her and paddled in the wetness of her swelling pussy lips. Both hands fondled and dug and she knew her cunt was gulping with eagerness. One small fist pushed between her pussy lips and twisted on the rubbery rim, shooting convulsive shudders of pleasure through her and growing more slippery by the moment. She felt her cunt mouth yawning at the insistent caress and uttered a wild moan of delight as she felt the knotted fist slipping slowly into the greedy opening.
She groaned as her cunt gobbled the fist.
The boy thrust his arm after the fist and she felt his hand open and close on the neck of her uterus, fondling it with gentle squeezes. Opening her mouth wide, she gasped for air and held her breath, her belly convulsing with the unique sensation within. Tommy's fingers stroked her clitoris, thumb and forefinger clutching opposite sides and stripping it with each jerk.
Her lust overcame all sense of outrage and she surrendered herself entirely to the violence of her physical responses. Her belly pounded the grillework until it rattled, and her boobs, framed by the metal bars leaped frantically. She lunged against her wrist restraints and sagged again and again with all her weight on them.
"Prisoner not need belt now," observed Tommy. "Woman plenty hot cunt."
She winced at the obscene word coming out on such a childish voice. There was a sharp tug at the small of her back and the belt slithered across her hips to dangle on her widespread thighs. The buried hand abandoned her spongy uterus, balled and drove to the end of her vagina. Pumping his fist like a piston, Billy drove his arm in and out in a jerky rhythm. Pam was hopelessly enmeshed in the network of sensations the boys produced in her and she thrust her ass backward to the limits her bonds imposed. Her boobs rested on cold iron but no other part of her body touched the grillework as she hung back on the wrist and ankle cuffs. She quivered uncontrollably and lunged from side to side under the goad of Tommy's unceasing massage of her clitoris.
Not even aware she was speaking, she uttered a low, monotonous chant. "No-no-no ..." At intervals her steady protest was broken by an explosive grunt or a panicky cry at some chance peak in the sensations that flooded her.
"Prisoner come soon," Tommy wisely remarked. "Cunt on fire!" His massage quickened and he dipped a finger of the other hand into the cunt juice surrounding Billy's buried arm and began to rub the inflamed tip of her clitoris with it while he continued the agonizing stripping motion.
Pam screamed and went rigid. Her orgasm burst upon her like the breaking of a huge wave. The knotted tension in her belly erupted into powerful contractions that squeezed the buried arm and gripped the deep-nestled fist ferociously. Her belly muscles writhed and her thighs leaped. She shuddered in the grip of a merciless tremor and ground her forehead against the grillework. And as her frenzy beat itself out she collapsed, hanging weakly against the iron and giving way to occasional bursts of shivering.
To her utter horror, Tommy refused to stop his gentle massage of the sides of her clitoris. She cried out in futile protest, then subsided to throaty groans of unwilling rearousal. Only when she began scrubbing her belly monotonously on the iron did the boy relent and let go of the tortured organ. And Billy, as if on cue, tugged his arm free of the clutch of her cunt mouth.
The boys unlocked the cuffs that were fastened around the bars, loosening her ankles first and then her hands, and she sagged, leaning weakly on the grille to save herself from crumpling to the floor. Tommy jerked at her, making her turn around and move away from the stairs. She stumbled, her knees rubbery, and when her shins struck the edge of a massive, low footstool her legs collapsed and she fell onto it.
The two boys acted instantly, jerking her arms back and fastening the dangling cuffs to the rear legs of the stool. And while Pam was panting in confusion and apprehension they hauled her feet apart and cuffed them again to the base of the grillework, her thighs obscenely spread and her ass in the air. She started, abruptly aware of the eager regard of Winky the basset.
Chapter 8
Pam stopped struggling, suspended in awful premonition. The basset was a magnificent brute for his breed. His body was thick and deep-chested and his head broad and high. His legs, sturdy and straight, quivered as he returned Pam's frightened stare. His skin lay in deep wrinkles across his forehead and drooped sadly at his jowls while his tail swished rapidly from side to side. He had enormous balls; they swung gently almost to the ground. And his cock, thrusting lewdly from its sheath, angled under his belly. It was a deep, shiny red and came the nearest of any dog prick Pam had ever seen to being the shape of a man's.
Even so, to her fascinated stare, Winky's cock was different. It was half again as long as the most formidable cock she'd seen on a man. It was easily as thick, but the cockhead was shaped like the tip of a medieval lance rather than like the rounded shape of a human cockhead. It was a flat-sloped cone with a sharp, quivering point, and it bobbed with the dog's panting.
Winky howled, his voice low and mournful, and the boys clapped excitedly.
"Come on, Winky! Your turn!" Tommy cried out happily to the eager dog.
"Yeah, Winky! Live cunt!" Billy exclaimed.
At the beast's fierce lunge, Pam realized how total the boys' control had been. Winky had hung back, seething with bestial lust, until released by their sweet-voiced invitation. His heavy grunt as he broke from his position testified to his inner drive.
Pam was under no delusion as to the horror that lay in store for her. The cuffs were immune to threat from any skill or strength she possessed. Her hands were below her hips, her arms running back along the sides of the stool, and couldn't be twisted into any angle that would raise her upper torso. Her legs were spread to the limit with her feet resting on the floor at the grille, soles up. Her belly rested solidly on the rounded top of the footstool while her pussy hung free beyond it. Her only hope-and it was a faint one-was to jerk herself back to where the grillework would shield her ass.
She tugged desperately, her legs tense and aching. If she failed, she reminded herself dismally, there could be but one outcome. Cock-hungry girls in high school had sniggered while they'd described their adventures with their farm dogs. "Hands and knees and bare-assed," they'd put it gleefully. "Baby, the way they jump you! CRASH! All over your ass and hangin' onto your waist and jabbin' that prick all around your cunt! And ZIPPO! All the way to your fuckin' tonsils! Whoo-ee! Fuck? You better believe!"
The stool slid jerkily until her knees stopped it. She forced them outside its corners and wrenched again, wedging the thick stool between her thighs. But there was no leverage left and Winky was scrambling across one leg, his cock wet and hot as it dragged over her calf. She sobbed with defeat and resigned herself to the inevitable, revolting degradation.
To the boys, crouched attentively beside either quivering thigh, the scene took on a different perspective. The grateful, ecstatic Winky sagged to his haunches before Pam's gaping pussy and eyed it with solemn interest. Her trembling pussy lips were fully engorged, deep-crimson with faint, lighter streaks suggesting the creases that existed in less excited states. The outer slopes, folded back by the opening impulse of her swelling, pressed toward the hollows at the tops of her thighs, black, curly pubic hair clinging wetly to them. The floor of her gash gleamed under layers of fluid, a rounded, deep trough, and the thick rim of her cunt mouth yawned broadly open. At the bottom of her steaming slit the pyramid of her clitoris twitched spasmodically, its hood gaping to expose the tiny, pointed head of the delicate organ.
The sadness in his eyes yielding to an expression of bliss, Winky thrust his head forward and sniffed. The touch of his wet nose evoked a wild leap from Pam's tense ass and then the dog extended the tip of his tongue and lapped tentatively at the thickening wetness of the palpitating membranes of her pussy lips.
Pam groaned and drove her belly harder against the stool. The patient tongue dipped methodically into her copious puddles of cunt fluid, scooping it up and lapping it into his waiting mouth. Pam shuddered and moaned and her knees gripped the stool fiercely.
"My God!" she exclaimed in a tortured tone of amazement and shame. "It... it feels good! Oh, God, it's good!"
Tommy chortled and Winky continued unhurriedly at his self-appointed service. The cheeks of Pam's ass parted and her pussy drove backward. She ground her belly on the stool top and pressed down with the small of her back while her ass rotated upward. Her knees scrubbed hard at the sides of the stool, squeezing it powerfully, and her toes curled. She grabbed the legs of the stool and clutched them ferociously while her knuckles whitened and her arms trembled. Her head hung inches from the floor and her hair tumbled loose from its pins and spread on the gleaming wood in a surging mass, but in her mounting excitement she flung her head up and made her hair fly in a glossy black cloud.
Winky's supple tongue dipped toward the front of her slit to recover juice that had run down and he tongued her clitoris with delicate strokes the width of a fingernail. Pam shrieked with pleasure and panic as the rough surface rasped her sensitized lump. Her hips flogged wildly and her hands splayed helplessly. When the slopes of her clitoris had been stripped of their coating, Winky lapped again at her trough, then dipped into the promising crater of her cunt mouth.
Pam moaned her relief and shuddered at the new, deeper thrills the questing tongue aroused in her. Winky thrust his tongue through Pam's gulping cunt mouth and ran it deeply into her vagina. The curling tip explored the inner convolutions and scraped them dry, working slowly and thoroughly back toward the jerking mouth. Again and again Winky pulled his tongue, loaded with the delicacy he sought, out of Pam's writhing cunt to transfer the sweet juices to his mouth. And again and again he drove the empty tongue through the quivering rim into the depths of her cunt to probe unexplored recesses.
Pam babbled. "Oh, Jesus! Merciful heaven, they didn't say! Not about the licking! Omigod, I can't fight it! So good! Sooo goood!"
At last, while Pam's body hung rigidly, racked by a miniature orgasm, Winky sagged back licking his chops. For a moment he sat quietly, his expression reflecting the satisfaction of a sweet-flavored dessert. But his cock throbbed under him, the massive head protruding between his heavy forelegs, and his haunches undulated spasmodically.
Both of the boys squealed with impatience.
"Climb on, Winky!" Billy pleaded. "Hurry up! Climb on!"
Tommy hissed. "Come on, stupid dog! Fuck her!"
Pam settled back to the stool, exhausted but trembling with anticipation. Winky heaved himself to his feet and reared over the white, upturned ass. His monstrous cock hung fully exposed now, the head barely behind his forelegs and jabbing quickly at Pam's tormented pussy.
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed in a low, tremulous tone as his chest settled onto the hard curve of her lower back. And when thick, powerful forelegs wrapped around her waist and gripped her belly she whispered, "Mother of love, how can he be so gentle and strong at the same time?"
But Winky moved instinctively. His rump jerked fast, powering his jumping cock and making the brutally pointed cockhead dance over Pam's funneled pussy lips. Guided inward, the wedged cone slid on its own thick lubrication to the rim of her cunt mouth. The boys wriggled and clapped, their yells the feverish echoes of Roman crowds at the arena.
"Come on! Stick it in, Winky! Push, Winky! Fuck her, Winky!"
And Winky humped, tongue lolling and ears swaying while his rump thrust behind his great cock. His cockhead plunged into Pam's waiting cunt mouth, filling it without.reaching the base of the tremendous cone. Her rim stretched and gulped at the hard meat, slipping tautly outward toward its edges, and engulfed it with a yawning distension, then closing to lip the rigid shaft. His cockhead firmly lodged in the sobbing girl, Winky slammed his rump forward. His shaft slid through the thick ring with a smooth, brutal rush while his cockhead plowed along the soft, spreading walls of her vaginal barrel.
His point hammered against the end of the passage and stretched her pliant membranes while inches of heavy shaft bowed outside under the awesome force of his lunges. Inch by inch, the exposed base of his cock vanished through her palpitating cunt rim until his bristling sheath ground into her reddened tissues.
"AHHHH!" she screamed deliriously. "IT'S ALL THE WAY TO MY THROAT!"
Winky fucked fiercely, his balls swinging ponderously below his jerking hindquarters and his clutching forepaws sweeping the pale, helpless torso back to meet his savage thrusts. Pam's ass bounced under the vicious impacts and her head flew erratically. Winky continued pounding when her legs and arms stiffened in the throes of another premature orgasm.
"I'm coming!" Pam groaned. "The bastard's making me come!"
"Come on, Winky! You're winning!" Billy shouted with glee and slapped Pam's taut thigh playfully.
"Fuck harder, Winky! She came first!" Tommy jerked off his pants and shorts and straddled the back of Pam's head, his thighs squeezing while he rubbed his undeveloped balls on her neck and reached around her to fondle her turgid boobs. "Fuck, Winky! Fuck her!"
"The little shit!" muttered Pam furiously. "He's getting his kicks on my neck!" She twisted, unable to dislodge him. "I'll fix him if I ever get loose!" she exclaimed breathlessly to herself.
But Winky's frantic fucking drove her mind off the precocious brat and back to her flaming pussy. The dog smashed against her cunt and hung on her, plastered against her membranes and vibrating spontaneously while his jism welled through his cock and pooled at the core of her belly. His heat seeped through her and he grumbled as if in agony, his forepaws clamping savagely on her waist and tugging her up to him. Pam groaned with her lust and rocketed into a new, racking climax that stretched her tendons taut and churned her belly with primitive, convulsive spasms.
Afterward, she hung limp in Winky's grip, spent and numb while the enormous swelling subsided in his cock. She felt the room revolving majestically with her and suffered a momentary surge of terror in the grip of a fantasy that she was on a turntable in some vast window display with hushed crowds clustering before the plate glass to shiver with the thrill of seeing her slender, deliciously curved body clasped to the belly of a drooling, fucking beast. The moment passed and Winky groaned and backed away, his cock sliding an impossible length of time before his weird cockhead popped loose and left her empty and tender.
The boys giggled happily, triumphant in their pet's conquest. But they cheerfully gave Pam her due.
"You did good, Pam," Tommy conceded. "You fucked right back."
A wave of fury turned her giddy and she resolved that the twisted youngsters would remember this night apart from all the others in which they'd badgered helpless baby-sitters. They unlocked the cuffs and helped Pam to her feet. Reeling with exhaustion and limp with aroused lust her orgasms now seemed to feed instead of draining, she clung to the boys' hands whle they led her upstairs. They guided her into their parents' room and pushed her onto the bed, where the surging of the surface told her she was on a water mattress. Rolling her onto her back, the boys scrambled over her, plucking at her tits and dabbling in the slushy wetness of her pussy. She lay unresisting, arms outflung and knees raised and thrust apart for them.
As she recovered her strength, she determined the time had come to punish them. She grabbed Tommyj his lower torso and legs still naked, and pinned him on his back, her side on his ankles while she bent over his hard little cock. Surprised a youngster his age could produce a hard-on, she fingered it curiously, grinning at its miniature dimensions. With sudden, savage intent, she thrust her mouth over the quivering little prick and began to suck it. Tommy struck at her and she snatched at his wrists, pinning his arms at his sides.
"YAH! YAH! You let me alone!" he shrieked. "You're gonna bite my pecker off! YAHHAHHAHH!" He lunged and twisted, his cock firmly caught in her mouth. "YAGHHH! I'll tell my dad on you!"
Billy patted Pam and leaned fondly on her shoulder. She sensed a kind of delight in him toward his older brother's plight. And he squealed and hugged her.
"Suck hard, Pam! Bite! I love you, Pam!" He scrambled over her to her knees, pushing at the one she'd crossed over her other thigh.
Curious, she raised the knee while Billy dove between her parted thighs. He licked at her pussy as Winky had done, then expertly caught her clitoris in his mouth. She started convulsively and jerked her hips, but he set his teeth gently behind the swell of the miniature head of her tiny organ and started sucking, his tongue playing over the suddenly throbbing tip. She increased the ferocity of her own sucking and felt Tommy's writhing body loosen and thrust at her face.
"Pam!" Tommy's voice quivered. "Pam, I like it! Oooh, Pam, don't stop!"
Frustrated in her effort to punish him, she fell to the charm of his wonder and caressed the slender body while she sucked more gently and fondled his cockhead with her tongue. The boy couldn't achieve an orgasm, she supposed, but he could derive enormous pleasure out of the sucking and licking while she submitted to his younger brother's affection.
Her excitement raged. She groaned and rolled onto her back, pulling the willing Tommy with her. He lay across her lower face, conscientiously raising one hip to leave her nose free, and struggled to reach a better position. Without her losing her grip on his cock, he managed to straddle her head and reach her tits with his hands and his own mouth. He sucked contentedly at one swollen nipple while his hips undulated. Relaxing the hard bite she had on the rigid little cock, she continued to suck while she let him fuck her mouth, his cylinder thrusting in and out through her wet lips and lightly pressing teeth. The marble-sized cockhead slid over her tongue barely to the back of her mouth, and she thrust the back of her tongue up to provide a tight passage between tongue and palate.
Tommy made wild, eager noises around the tit he sucked and she felt his body quiver violently. Suddenly, with no other warning, a sweet, thin liquid welled into the back of her mouth and filled her throat. She swallowed convulsively, startled and elated, and clasped the boy's straining hips in her hands. He drove his groin onto her lips and clamped his thighs on her temples, jerking his mouth off her tit and crying out in astonished pleasure, a thread of panic edging into his voice.
"Pam! Oh, Pam! What's wrong with me! Am I okay, Pam? Pam, will I be okay? UNNNHHH!"
When the discharge stopped and the trembling cock withered, Pam gently released it. Her own hips surged frantically and she turned her head and gritted her teeth, feeling the sparks of orgasm exploding in her belly. Helpless, she writhed under the persistent demand of Billy's eager mouth. The child had his hands flat on her pussy lips and his fingers at the hood of her clitoris, holding the protective fold back and flattening the pulpy masses of her cunt. His teeth held the barrel of her clitoris tenderly while his delicate lips sucked happily. His tongue worked, mauling her clitoris tip and crushing it against the roof of his mouth.
In a great surge of sensation, she came. Her back arched and she flung her ass into the air, lifting Billy with her thrust. She hung quivering above the bed, the water beneath her surging from side to side and rocking her in her climax. With a final deep shudder she fell back and went limp.
"Oh, my!" she sighed. "Oh, my! We had a real adventure, didn't we!"
To her surprise, both boys cuddled, one on each side, and began kissing her cheeks and her unprotesting lips with light, affectionate caresses.
"We like you, Pam," Tommy said shyly.
"We love you!" Billy stoutly corrected his older brother. "Don't we, Tommy!"
"Yeah. I guess. You play nice, Pam. Like Willa. Not like all those others."
"Willa? WILLA!"
Tommy laughed. "Willa plays good, too! She says it's fun."
"It is fun!" Pam raised her arm and glanced at her watch. "It's late, too. Time for you guys to get into bed."
"Aww, Pam, do we hafta?" Both boys protested.
"Come on, now. You know what's right. And if you don't get your sleep you never will grow up so you can really fuck."
She felt Tommy shiver at her use of the word. He clutched at her and snuggled close.
"Like you let me do, Pam?" he asked doubtfully. "Only in your cunt?"
"Uh-huh. Want to grow up and do that?"
"Brrr!" Tommy rolled away and scrambled to his feet. "Come on. Billv! Criminentlies! It's way past bedtime!"
"I still love you, Pam," whispered Billy as he left her.
Pam left her clothes off until the boys were tucked into bed. She patiently let each of them feel her breasts and run their hands into the warmth of her crotch one last time, then left them and turned out the lights. Downstairs she dressed thoughtfully.
When she dropped into the easy chair and discovered Winky leering at her, horny as ever with his cock again half-erect, realization flooded over her.
"Omigod!" she whispered. "What happened to me tonight!"
Winky's tail wagged and he inched closer.
"Not you, you horny bastard! I know what you did!"
He crept toward her, his entire body wriggling with the motion of his tail.
"Oh, for goodness sake! Come on!"
He padded to her and she bent down to cuddle his massive head to her breasts. He whimpered ecstatically and thrust his tongue toward her face. Laughing, she twisted to evade the slobbering tongue.
"Down, damnit! Down! Come on, Winky, behave yourself."
Winky settled to his haunches at her feet, his mournful eyes staring steadily into her face.
"Yes, you're good. It's a terrible thing to do, Winky, but nobody ever filled me any better than you. A girl who didn't want some guy thinking he owned her could get all the relief she needed with you." She studied him speculatively. "I bet she wouldn't have to get down with her bottom in the air, either.. If she figured out the right kind of cushions, she could lie on her back while you made it with her." She giggled abruptly. "And you wouldn't all the time be trying to get her to do it some other way like some people I know!"
She sobered at his quizzical expression. "Don't make sense, do I? Nothing does. A week ago I'd have been a raving lunatic before the kids finished something like tonight. It would have flipped me, Winky. But, oooo, it did feel good! Every bit of it!"
She let her mind re-create each scene she'd experienced during the evening, her breath shallow and labored and tingles racing over her. Even imagining them got her excited. She'd loved every sensation. But she shook her head. She'd been wicked and lustful and everybody would shun her in disgust if they knew.
She stretched, back arched and arms extended over her head to reach behind her. Her blouse tugged at the waistband of her skirt and ridged tautly to the tips of her full breasts. She smiled sleepily at Winky. "But it was still fun, love! Good, happy fun!"
A car came to a hard stop outside and a door slammed. Pam tensed.
"That's not the Lanes," she said to the dog. "Not this time of night."
He appeared to share her conclusion. He heaved to his feet and stalked toward the front door. At the sound of footsteps on the porch he growled, then released one deep bark. The doorbell rang.
"Who is it?" asked Pam without turning the knob.
"Me. Barry. You okay, Pam?"
"Barry!" She flung the door open. "Barry! Come on in! Where's Hank?"
He brushed past her to glance quickly around the room. "Alone, sugar? You sure everything's okay?"
"Of course! Nobody here but the boys and Winky and me!"
"Nothing happen earlier?"
She felt herself blush. "You mean was anybody here?"
"Or any odd noises or anything suspicious."
"No. Barry, what's wrong?"
"What the hell you been doing, Pam? Didn't you have the tube on-or even a radio?"
"Barry, please! I've been busy! The boys . . . games ... I just got them to bed. What's wrong?"
"God!" he muttered under his breath. "Made it in time!"
"Barry, I'm getting mad at you!" She grabbed his arm with exasperation. "Will you tell me what's going on!"
"Sure. Sure, baby. Look, somebody got to Irma Gutieres tonight."
"Irma? Barry, what do you mean, somebody ... oh, God, no! NO, BARRY!"
"Just like Nora. Same goddamn place. Well, within fifty yards. Got to be the same guy, sugar. First thing they looked for was the needle mark, and it was there. Inside of her thigh, though. He worked harder hitting the vein this time."
"Omigod, no, Barry! It's got to be a nightmare!" She sank into his arms and shuddered. "Why .. . why come over here, honey?"
There was an instant of hesitation before he replied. "The way it all fits together. Irma's roommate says Irma got a note a few days ago like the one Nora Bowman got. And with the note and that spooky phone call to you, Hank and I. . . well, we worried."
She spoke softly, hoping. "You could have called me. Wouldn't have taken as long as driving."
Another car stopped in front before Barry could answer. They heard a quick, purposeful stride and a sharp rap on the door. Pam stirred but Barry stopped her.
"I'll get it," he said.
The door swung open before Barry got to it. Jim Parks burst in.
"What the hell, Barry!" "Huh!"
"Huh, hell! You're just plain greedy, man! Shit, you were feeling Hank up when I left there! I get over here and Pam looks as flustered as if you'd got to her twice already!"
Pam started to laugh, the ridiculous sense of Jim's irritation a trigger for the hysteria that was building in her. But she saw Barry's eyes narrow and realized how closely he was watching Jim.
"Look, Jim, ease off for a minute." Barry's voice held steady.
Jim paused and squinted at Barry, then at Pam. "Wait a minute," he said. "Anything wrong, Pam?"
Barry answered for her. "Hank turned on the radio when you left, Jim, they found Gutieres in the park about an hour ago. Just like Bowman."
Pam thought she saw a flicker of bitterness in Jim's eyes before his mouth dropped.
"WHAT! BARRY, YOU KIDDING?"
"Dead. Apparent heart attack. Naked and spread-eagled, just like Bowman. And they found a needle mark."
"Oh, Jesus!" Jim whispered. "Not again!"
Pam felt a violent chill. Somehow she couldn't bear to meet Jim's eyes. He'd dated the Gutieres girl; some of the nurses had believed he'd marry Irma. Pam hadn't, because she'd known Irma was too pure for him. That had been true until three days ago, and Irma had come on duty with curious bruises circling her wrists and, visible even through her white hose, her ankles. She'd had an expression of dazed wonder-the sort of expression Pam imagined one might have after a vision of the Virgin Mother.
"Doctor Parks?" Pam had asked softly when the girl had paused near her.
Gutieres had looked up at her, dark eyes still seeing something far away, then dancing with suppressed excitement. She'd nodded vehemently. "Name of God, Miz Kendall! He's so gentle!" She'd shaken her head with wonder. "And I thought I didn't want him to! But he's going to teach me. Oooh!" And the girl had dashed away with the linens over her arm to change another bed.
Pam had been mystified at the time; she wasn't now. But she was scared. The feeling had been nebulous after Bowman's death and had taken sinister shape with the telephone call. It had crystallized at this moment-a certainty that Jim's far-out sex touch was the touch of death. She shrank closer to Barry and stared at Jim, her heart beating rapidly. For just the flickering of an eyelash she'd had the feeling Jim wasn't really surprised at Irma's being dead.
Chapter 9
Jim excused himself after a half hour of fruitless conjecture about the killer. Barry chuckled good-naturedly when the door had closed.
"Ten to one he's heading for our place," he remarked. "Came over here for a piece and found me. Stands to reason he figures he knows one place he can get it."
"Brrr! The same night he hears about Irma?"
"Well, maybe not. Want to bet?"
"What kind of stakes?" she asked suspiciously.
Barry laughed. "Damn! You're getting sharp, sugar!"
"Or jumpy." She smiled at his boyish enthusiasm, then sighed. If her world were filled with Barry Tindells it would be a cozy, secure place to live. Unfortunately, there were the wildly exciting types like Jim Parks and the shadowy figures who killed without warning. She made a mental correction-who warned and killed.
"Barry, who's doing it?"
He lost his grin and flung himself into the easy chair. "I wish I knew, sugar."
"It's got to be someone we all know. It's no stranger."
"And the fact both girls were from the hospital and the way they were killed."
"Maybe. Nora Bowman made me think somebody was trying to throw suspicion on the rapist. Now I don't think so."
"Why?" Pam asked.
"Hell, everybody knows it wasn't him! No chance of fooling anybody this time."
"Maybe the rapist finally flipped, Barry. Maybe the sex just wasn't enough."
Barry snorted. "Come on, Pam! I'd buy that if there were a lot of torture and he made it before he did the killing. You ever stop to think about that? Hell, if you're going to kill a broad like one of those two and you've got them all staked out like that, why not screw them first?"
"But... but... "
"Here." He reached out and she went to him, settling herself on his lap.
"You think that's important, don't you." She ran her fingers through his hair.
"Don't you?"
"I don't know."
"Hell, I'll go a step further, sugar! I'll bet the killer's a woman."
"An awfully strong one. Nora wasn't little, and Irma was as strong as a horse. You should have seen the way she lifted patients around when she was changing their beds!"
"Okay . . . strong or smart... or carrying a gun or something. Way I hear it, the Bowman girl didn't show any marks of a fight."
"What if you're right? What if it's a woman?"
"Then what did she have against Bowman and Gutieres?"
"And me." She shivered.
"Okay. And you."
"We didn't even know the same people, except to work with."
"And sleep with, Pam." "Jim. Doctor Parks."
"I don't know anything about the other two girls, but he's the only guy I know you've been shacking up regular with."
"He's the only one. He was spending a lot of time with the other two, though. And a little with just about any of the nurses who put out."
"But mostly you three?"
"Yes."
"Either somebody's jealous or ... " "Or what?"
Barry held her tightly without answering. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. But he gave no indication of continuing the discussion.
Pam insisted. "Or what, Barry?"
"Or Jim's got some kind of complex. Some damn compulsion maybe even he doesn't know about."
"Barry . . . no! Not Jim!"
"Was he with you the night Bowman was killed?"
"Uh ... no ... " "Tonight?"
"Of course not! He was with you and Hank!"
"After the movie." Barry sounded reluctant to go on, but he added, "Dropped by for a drink. Said he was coming over to see if the kids had given you a hard time."
She drew away and stared at him, then whispered, "And you heard about Irma and got scared he meant to come here and kill me!"
Barry shrugged. "We'll never know, will we."
"Oh, Barry! I just won't believe it!"
"Honey-sugar, we don't believe it either . .. Hank and I. But it's an outside chance. We'd rather cover outside chances than go to your funeral." He stirred and made an obvious effort to change the subject. "How did it go here tonight?"
Pam couldn't bring herself to tell him. Nor was she satisfied with where he wanted to leave the conversation. "If it isn't Jim, then what?" she asked, persisting.
"That's a tough one. Another woman at the hospital he hasn't been talking about."
"Why at the hospital?"
"That's where all three of you got those notes. And it's somebody who can handle a needle, even if she's not too sharp at it."
"An RN or Doctor Phillips or one of the licensed vocationals."
"I'd bet on Phillips," Barry laughed wickedly.
"Oh, honey, that's mean! Just because ... just because she likes women instead of men!"
"I know. Bad taste to joke about her. Damn fine woman and one hell of a good doctor. If it were Aleen Phillips you can bet that damn needle would have gone where she wanted it the first stab!"
"Or any of the girls with big, healthy veins like Nora and Irma had."
"Whoa! Hold on, nurse. Phillips, yes; that woman wouldn't get rattled over anything. Ice water for blood. One of the nurses? I don't know. She'd be uptight anyhow-all involved emotionally over Jim and whoever she was killing. And then the idea of killing, itself, would shake hell out of her. I'll bet even you or Hank might miss the vein a time or two."
Pam tried to identify a nurse who might secretly have a thing for Jim Parks. It seemed an impossible task; if she accepted general indications of interest, she could indict over half of the girls. Most of them made no secret of the fact they considered him exciting and a great catch. If she tried to get more selective, with clues to really passionate interest, she couldn't isolate anyone. But she was certain of one thing: it had to be one of the girls; Jim wasn't a killer.
Barry insisted on her resting for the hour or two that would elapse before the Lanes returned. "Damned if I want you taking care of my patients tomorrow after a night like this. Get some sleep." He made her lie on the couch and let him cover her with an afghan.
"What about you?" she asked in weak protest. "You'll be just as tired."
"Worst I can do is gouge someone with a tongue depressor. No surgery scheduled."
When the Lanes did come in Pam assured them the evening had gone smoothly. Kathy looked into Pam's eyes with an expression too knowing for Pam to ignore.
"You figured out how to handle them?" she asked softly.
Pam flushed and stammered. Giving it up, she satisfied herself with a nod.
"Thanks, Pam." Kathy's tone was one of sincere gratitude with a measure of apology. "They're not exactly what Orin and I had in mind when we started. But they'll outgrow the age where it's such a problem."
Like Jim? thought Pam. She wondered instantly why she'd asked herself, then realized it was the similarity between his taste for novelty and the way the boys had directed their play.
Barry took her home and made sure her apartment was empty and safe, then left her for the night. She spent the next morning secretly observing the nurses and other personnel at the hospital wondering which one had two murders on her mind and another planned.
At noon, Jim had her paged. When she answered, he suggested they share the half hour lunch break on the lawn. "Weather's still too great to stay inside," he argued.
"Okay. Meet you on the steps in two minutes."
"Three. I've got twice as far to go."
He selected one of the most imposing of the grand old elms and laid a worn blanket on the dying grass. He hardly wasted a word before plunging to the reason for spending this time with her.
"How was it last night, puss?" he asked. The note of sympathy and awareness was too obvious in his voice for her to miss.
"Awful!" She shuddered and turned her face away.
"That bad, huh?"
She hesitated. In a way she was being too harsh. But she wasn't ready to go into that with him. "How did you know?" she asked.
He grinned. For a moment it was a tight-lipped grimace, but it loosened immediately to an expression of frank pleasure. "Cards on the table, nurse?"
"Okay."
"Know what happens when I find out a patient's going to die?" "What?"
"I say so. Brutal, puss, but I tell him. And then I say it's going to depend on him-and a little on me, maybe-how long it's going to be. He knows I'll never he to him, that way, and I know I'll never have to. Okay, I'm going to be just as frank with you right now."
Omigod! she thought. He's telling me I'm going to die! Barry was right; it is Jim!
He went on. "I want to marry you, puss. I'm in no hurry and I'm not going to push. But when you're ready, that's what I want."
"Jim . . . JIM?"
"Yeah. I said it. Okay, I'm telling you that because I've got to tell you something else I'll never tell anyone but my wife."
"Oh." No romantic moment... no ring ... no passionate kiss. She smiled inwardly at her foolishness.
"About last night. How come Willa managed those kids without any trouble when every other baby-sitter went ape. How come you got the business. How come I know." He paused and tugged blades of brown grass out of the soil. "Starts a long time ago . . . like ten or fifteen years. When my folks died Aunt Willa was the only relative I had. She took me ... let them fly me from San Antonio . . . and started to raise me. She hated my mother. Hated hell out of her, even though she was dead. And I found out a whole lot later it was because Willa and my dad-before he went off and got married-were in love. I mean they lived together and they did everything any other couple might and invented a lot besides. And then he took off."
"Willa?" Pam stared at Jim. "That why she never did marry?"
"Marry or live with anybody. She never found anyone to measure up to her brother."
"Poor woman!" whispered Pam.
"Didn't think much of me, either, when I showed up. I looked Mexican . . . wasn't much like my dad, I guess. Anyhow, when I was twelve she started teaching me the facts of life." He grinned.' "Wasn't like out of a book, either. More like a lab.
Jesus! I like to dropped out of school, it got so interesting!"
"Jim! Like the Lane boys?"
"Well. .. not exactly. I was old enough to hold up my end. But maybe that idea. And she was kinky enough to make it a real eye-opener. Had a real thing about being restrained. Did I learn my knots fast!"
"Whew!" Pam whistled quietly. "I'd never have guessed, looking at her; she's so dignified and proper!" She reflected on her impression of Willa Parks. "She does look terribly sexy, though, even now."
Jim laughed gently. "If a woman really digs sex-I mean if she really does dig it, she's going to stay sexy-looking. And she's likely to stay goddamn active, when she's got somebody to be active with! Willa's going to be a sexy-looking broad if she lives to be a hundred plus!"
"I knew how she got along with the Lane kids as soon as they got going good last night," Pam remarked. "But I thought it was just a matter of making the best of a bad situation."
"For her? I expect she taught those hooligans nine-tenths of what they use. What was it last night?"
"Indians. Dusty-Shaft."
"Oh. Well, they likely figured they ought to break you in easy."
"And..." She hesitated, then continued slowly, with a furtive glance at his expression. "And after that, Winky."
She was startled by his sudden look of hunger.
"Son of a bitch! That basset of theirs? Tell the truth, Pam; how did you like it after you got over the shock?"
"What makes you so sure I got any further?"
"Knowing you."
"You're a bastard, Jim Parks. You really think you know me that well?"
"I think so. You got shocked at a couple of things you and I did. But you got over that."
"Like a tramp," she said. "Well, he ... he was good."
"That's what Willa said."
"Jim! She told you about it?"
"That's one of the things she taught me, Pam. There's a thrill even in that kind of sharing."
"Good God!"
"Oh, come on! When you and Seth were swapping with Barry and Hank. Didn't you tell each other about it after? I mean when you went off to separate rooms?"
"We always went off to separate rooms."
"Well, didn't you talk about it after? When you were alone with each other?"
She couldn't bring herself to say anything aloud to him about such a personal part of her life with Seth. But she nodded.
"And it got you both hot as hell."
She didn't even nod. The blush she felt in her face had to be answer enough.
"Like I said, we didn't miss one trick for getting our kicks. Got so we even had a code. First time I ever made out on a date the broad and I squeezed into a phone booth afterward so I could call Willa. Said I had to check in. I gave Willa the code symbol and she spent from then until I got home imagining what I'd done. She was really hot!"
"Does she phone you from the Lanes with the code?"
"Sure. Kids buy it, too. They even bring her the phone while they're right in the middle of something! Christ! When I hear the symbol for something good and she's worked up enough she has trouble talking!" "My God, Jim!"
"Puss, you're still too uptight. Can you give me the truth if I ask you something personal?"
"Depends." He could ask her a lot of things she wouldn't answer at all, she reflected.
"Okay. You feel any tingles right now?"
"Yes," she said in a low tone.
"Just talking sex?"
"Yes."
"But a lot of times you've talked about sex without feeling a thing, haven't you?" "Of course."
"Why? Because it wasn't personal. This is. You know I'm thinking about how good it is laying you. And you can't forget the last time I did. Or the time before that. And the talk runs right into that, doesn't it?"
"Jim, we've just about used up our half hour."
He insisted. "Doesn't it?"
"Yes! Of course, it does!"
"And tingling feels good and therefore you ought to grab every chance you get to talk personal sex! Instead of shying away from it because 'nice people' don't talk about it."
"Jim ..."
"You get what I'm saying?" "Yes, Jim. But..."
"But, hell! As much as you've got to offer, it's a goddamn crime to bind yourself up the way the Chinese used to bind their feet! That's what makes a withered old husk of a woman by the time she's forty!"
"Jim ..."
"Want to look like . . . like Zuchert's wife did last night? A prune by the time you're her age?"
"Jim!"
"Or maybe like Willa."
"Jim, listen! I want to be me! I don't want people taking me all apart and putting me back together again like a damn robot!"
"Oh, shit! I give up. I don't think I ever sold a thing talking about it."
"That's why you're a doctor, maybe, instead of a salesman." She laid her hand on his arm, touched by his dejected appearance.
"The hell it is. I'm a doctor because that's what Willa Parks and Ben Willard decided I was cut out for."
She couldn't help laughing. "Horoscope?" "Not unless you're making a bad pun. Ben on the basis of my dodging ability, I guess ..." "Huh?"
"Dodging questions until I was damn sure I knew the answers. And Willa because I was good with my hands." He turned a slow grin toward her. "And she had plenty of chance to find out."
"Honey!"
"Truce? Okay? Why don't you let me take you out to dinner tonight? The Steak House, maybe. And we'll go back to your place and fuck."
"Make love," she replied automatically.
"Excellent! I knew you'd say yes! You can make love while I fuck."
"Oh, Jim! You're impossible!"
"No. I'm easy."
"There's nurses here who don't think so." "No! I haven't got around to all of them yet?" "Maybe not often enough." "They're not all worth it." "You once said any woman ..." He interrupted her. "I said any woman was worth it if she was ready to learn. A woman's got to be something fantastic if a guy's got to spend time convincing her it's worthwhile learning.'' Pam felt herself dimple. "Why, thank you honey!"
He caressed her ass, deliberately and openly, surged to his feet and helped her up. Snatching up the blanket he walked back toward the main entrance with her.
"Tonight. Six-thirty," he said.
"Six-thirty."
She even smiled at Willa Parks when she passed the receptionist's desk.
Chapter 10
The Steak House was crowded when they reached it that night. But when Jim whispered to Helen, the waitress, she wiggled all over and led them to a secluded table by a corner window overlooking Massacre Valley. They were in the fourth day of unseasonal heat. "Too hot for Indian summer," Helen had said, wiping perspiration out of the creases in her neck. "More like judgment day." and a pall of smoke hung before them, undulating as if to a slow, greasy swell. Lighted by reflection from numerous hills around it and glowing murkily with the glare from Midford beneath, the haze filled Pam with morose premonitions. Jim chose to see it in another light.
"Pretty good to have dinner in Kansas and look at a seascape!" he observed, "Those damn fools ought to know better than to burn leaves when the weather's like this."
"They know it's going to snap one of these nights," Pam reminded him. "When it does-clear like the sky is-we're going to have a real freeze."
"So? Who needs to smudge here?"
She sighed and grinned. "Anybody ever try to win an argument with you, Jim?"
"Sure!" He swept his hand toward a nearby knoll, the tip barely protruding above the smoke. "Boot Hill's full of them!"
"God! That's one thing a doctor never ought to say! He just couldn't say anything worse!"
A faraway look came into Jim's eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched. "I remember assisting in a lobotomy once during my internship. A Doctor Wenksheine, I think it was. Hell of a delicate procedure. There was one point where he had to dissect one nerve out of a cluster of three-pretty critical that he get just that one. He went down with the scalpel to hold them apart and used scissors to make the actual cut. Never forget it. There's this snip and then, real soft, he says, 'Oh-ohhh!"
Pam gazed at him in horror, paralyzed by the quiet, casual note in his voice. Then she saw the twitch at the corners of his mouth growing stronger and knew he was teasing. "My God, I thought you were telling the truth!"
He nodded. His voice became suddenly bleak. "It was true during those few seconds you believed it, wasn't it?"
"Wellll ..." She frowned. "Yes, in a way."
"The only way that could count right here, right now."
"Yes."
After a brief, thoughtful silence, he added, "That's why I never tell that kind of story on myself . . . unless it really did happen."
Helen waddled across the room, sidling between the other tables to reach Pam and Jim.
"You Miz Kendall?"
Pam nodded.
"Telephone. You can get it over there." The hostess gestured toward the alcove leading to the restrooms.
"Excuse me, honey." Pam stood.
In the alcove, the diners visible through the too-green foliage of artificial tropicals, Pam lifted the receiver of the only telephone.
"Hello?"
"Hello. I want to talk to a Miz Kendall." "I'm Mrs. Kendall."
"Oh. Hey, you on th' other phone, hang up!" There was a click and the voice continued. "Pam Kendall?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"It don't matter. Listen, Kendall. You be awful careful with that Jim Parks. I tried to tell you, he's got a problem."
"Wait a minute! Who are you!" She knew it was the same person who had telephoned her at Hank's two nights before. But the voice was as elusive as it had been then-and as implacable.
"He don't say anything about that summer he spent up at Menningers in Topeka. End of his junior year in high school. Biology lab was what made 'em notice, it was."
"Please! If you won't tell me who you are ..."
"Stop interrupting me! Seems like he'd get to a point where the balance would just tilt and he couldn't stop. Cuttin', cuttin', CUTTIN'!"
"I'm not going to listen."
"Yes you are. Wait'll he gets you all strung up an' naked an' beggin' for cock one of these nights. He's going to snap and all you'll get is the thinnest cock of all-a needle, that's what! You just wait! You'll see!"
The line went dead and Pam hung up. She returned to their table reluctantly. How she could fabricate an innocent message and fool Jim was utterly beyond her. But she couldn't possibly tell him what the caller had said. His curious moodiness and his point about truth being what one believed at the moment flashed across her mind. She wondered if she'd believed the voice for just an instant.
He demanded to know what the call had been, as she'd known he would.
"Another stupid thing like the one at Hank and Barry's," she told him.
"Same voice?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"The 'You're next, Kendall' bit. Ugh!"
His eyes were steady and compassionate. She felt she could see pain and regret in them and went around the table unselfconsciously to kiss him for his sensitivity to the panic the caller was subjecting her to.
After dinner they drove back to Barton and went up to her apartment. They hadn't said a great deal at the table, she reflected-or in the car, for that matter-but she felt closer to the dark-skinned, moody doctor than she ever had before. Somehow his silence had been more of a refuge for her than any amount of cheering up could have been. She shut the door after they were inside and, without turning on the light, went into his arms. He'd hold her for a while and they'd feel eagerness building in them and he'd carry her to her bed. They'd undress and lie down and he'd make love to her. And then she'd snuggle in his embrace, secure and warm and wiggling in his sweat from time to time. The threats and warnings would be parts of a nightmare she didn't believe and therefore things that, for tonight, weren't true.
He did hold her and her eagerness was already there. She clung fiercely and worked her lipson his mouth with hot, hungry need and thrust her belly against his groin. Her soft flesh molded itself around the bulge of his hard-on and she whimpered into their kiss. She clamped her thighs on one of his and found a ridge to press her pussy to and squirmed while he caressed her ass.
"Yes! Yes!" she mumbled against his hps. "Now, love! Now!"
He knelt before her, his body slipping out of her arms while his hands slid down her sides and left a trail of tingling goosebumps. Caressing one thigh with both hands he stroked upward to the top of her stocking while her fingers bit into his shoulders. She'd wanted so badly to have him carry her directly to the bedroom. But if he found it more erotic to take the time out here to arouse more than a whispered "Now!" in her, it was worth the sacrifice. He unfastened the garters at the top of her stocking and gently began to roll it down. She lifted her foot, toes pointed toward the floor, and let him remove her shoe and the stocking. She quivered while he repeated the silent process with her other leg.
When he lifted the front of her skirt and kissed the inside of one thigh the silence ended.
"Mmm! Oooh, honey!" She swayed toward him and thrust her knee to the side, twisting her thigh into the hot, wet kiss and trembling with savage desire. He touched her other thigh and she twisted again, burning with delight at the tender, intimate caresses from his mouth. Wicked, maybe, she conceded quickly, but so terribly, terribly good!
He rose with a breathless chuckle and picked her up in his arms. She snuggled with a sigh of happy anticipation.
On impulse, she whispered, "Fuck me, honey!" She thrilled to the sudden start and his tightened grip.
"I'll buy that!" he replied gruffly.
He laid her on the table in the dining area.
"Oh, Jim! Not tonight!" she pleaded. "I wanted you in bed so!"
"Lots of time, puss. It's just that it's so hard to look at you and believe you've belonged to me the way you have."
"You've got to convince yourself?" she asked. "If you believe it, it's true."
"I don't know for sure I can believe it."
The boyish quality she'd heard before was there in his voice. Suddenly the romantic, pampered-lady picture she'd held before her on the way home evaporated before a fiery gust of sheer animal lust. She wondered giddily and decided it was a combination of that quality in his voice and the uncompromising support of the table and the honest possibility he couldn't believe. Whatever it was, she burned with a desire to crawl all over him, scrubbing her wet pussy on every bulge he had and forcing herself onto that heavy cock every way she'd experienced.
Jim went to the head of the table and bent over it to caress her breasts. She squirmed, clutching his wrists happily and welcoming the thrills his hands produced in the mounds of greedy flesh. When he came around to the side of the table and tied one end of a nylon stocking around her wrist she permitted it without a murmur of protest. Without securing that stocking to anything he tied her other stocking to the other wrist. In a moment he was wrapping dish towels around her ankles for padding and tying something around each of them.
"Honey?" "Hmm?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Remember?"
"Brrr!"
He laughed softly and lightly. "Right!"
"Be gentle, honey," she urged. Then, fiercely, "No! Make me excited! Make it exciting again, honey!"
"That's the best way." His voice vibrated with pleasure.
He vaulted onto the table beside her and she knew he'd kicked off his shoes. He seized whatever he'd tied around her ankles and lifted, raising her feet and then her legs and then her lower torso, letting her rest on her shoulders.
"Oh, my!" she gasped. She felt her skirt slide off her thighs and over her hips. It settled onto her boobs and hung past her back from her waist.
Jim spread her legs to a moderate angle and seemed to be feeling for something above them, tugging them one way and then the other at the end of the bonds. The movement stopped and her feet settled a couple of inches and steadied. Then Jim jumped off the table.
"Honey!" Her voice was muffled by the way her neck was bent. "Honey, this isn't remembering!"
"Haven't we done this, puss?"
"God, no!"
"You'll love it."
He stroked the nude slopes of her thighs and touched a wisp of pubic hair. "Well, I'll be goddamned!" he exclaimed softly. "You little minx!"
"I thought that might be exciting for you," she murmured, shivering with excitement herself at the knowledge nothing covered her pussy.
Jim left her momentarily and the blaze of the chandelier filled the room.
"JIM! OH, NO, JIM! NOT ALL THAT LIGHT, HONEY!"
She couldn't define all the elements of horror and humiliation. Her feet bracketed the lower tier of the chandelier and the bright core of the light played brilliantly down onto her upraised pussy. The glossy pelt had never gleamed as vibrantly. Heavy ceiling hooks installed to permit moving the chandelier from one position to another served to anchor the thick ropes Jim had secured her ankles with. And she knew he'd brought the rope in sometime, because she'd never seen it before. Her crotch was just at the level of Jim's shoulders, where he could look down into her cunt mouth if he could get close enough.
He began to pull the table away, in the direction she was facing.
"Jim . . . JIM! You're not going to . . . ohhh, no-no-no!"
Before the edge of the table moved out from under her shoulders Jim came around and held one hand under them, pushing the table clear with his thighs. Then he eased her down and let her hang by her ankles. He worked rapidly, unzipping her dress at the back and slipping it over the bulge of her breasts and off her arms. In another moment he had her bra unfastened and off. She gazed up with terrified dismay, frightened at the way her pussy hung forward while her belly caved in so far it ought to be touching her spine. And her breasts were hanging inverted, too, still thrusting out, but with the ends curling down and the nipples aimed at the floor.
"Omigod, no, honey! I can't! Not this way!" Jim ran his hands over her, fingering the newly shaped curves and brushing over her sensitive zones.
" Ah ! Oh! Ooohoooohoooh! It. . . feels . . . awful good!" She reached up to cross her hands over her breasts.
Jim chuckled. He tied each of the stockings to one of the table legs, allowing her arms freedom of movement but establishing a gap of a foot between her body and the nearest point she could reach with her fingertips. Accepting the inevitable and thrilling at the fantastic sense of helplessness, she let them hang.
Jim stripped. She couldn't recall having seen his hands shake any other time she'd watched him undress and when she saw the purple shade of his cock and recognized the way it was swollen she knew the intense stimulus her position provided him. He came to her at once, clasping one arm across her back and pulling her breasts to his belly while he began to kiss her pussy.
She writhed, startled at his approach. He buried his face in the main body of her pubic hair first, kissing the flesh behind it while his fingers trailed over her hollowed hips. He caught thick strands of the black brush and tugged gently while they slipped between his teeth. His kisses worked gradually up her inverted mound to its crest and over it to the back of her clitoral hood. She jerked violently with her legs when his hips touched the cringing peak, and her hips leaped and rotated sharply. His hands slid down to encircle her waist and his fingertips probed at the nerve columns that flanked her spine.
"Omigod, honey!" she wheezed, unable yet to compensate for the pressure of her internal organs on her lungs. "You'll drive me right out of my mind!"
"Christ, puss!" His voice was hoarse and unsteady. "I'm already out of mine!"
"JIM!" she shrieked. "DON'T SAY THAT!!"
He dropped to his knees and bent to rub her flowing hair over his face. Straightening, he crushed her mouth with his, his tongue driving deep into the arch of her throat. She gulped furiously at it, her entire body shuddering with excitement at the hot wetness that was such an intimate sharing. She tugged at the stockings and pulled herself harder into Jim's kiss. His hands held her face and his fingers caressed the tender hollows at the back of her jaw while the warmth of his lips seeped over her.
He drew back to stare affectionately at her. "Lot of feeling in that kiss, puss."
"Oh, Jim! It was so warm! And it seems so strange to be kissing upside down. But honey, I'm on fire! I want you so!"
He rose to his feet and she found herself gazing straight at his crotch. The base of his cock was like the trunk of a leaning tree springing from the side of a cliff, while the folds of his scrotum hung from it with a tension that told silently of the weight of the bulky testicles whose outlines showed so clearly in the bottom of the sac. He teased the inner slopes of her thighs with his fingertips. Chills gripped her spine and she gasped and jerked. When he fingered the hair-covered, silken roundness of her pussy lips, her hips lashed forward and backward convulsively.
He pulled the lips apart gently and caressed their hairless inner faces. Tingles shook her and made her twist her shoulders and tense her belly. She knew her tissues were swelling and expanding to uncover her cunt mouth and a rush of heat swept over her at the realization he'd be able to gaze down into her vagina. Intensely conscious of how horrified an outsider would be at seeing her dangling in the middle of the room with her legs widespread and every secret of her nude body blatantly displayed, she admitted to herself that nothing mattered as much as the throbbing lust that beat at her.
"Honey! Oh, honey!" The longing that washed over her was a shapeless mist that swirled into half-familiar, haunting patterns and thinned again to disembodied desire. But each thickening grew more tangible and each recession became less pronounced and the twisting tendrils coalesced and took form. She knew suddenly the sensation she wanted and the effect it would produce. "Oh, honey ... your mouth . .. kiss me, honey. Suck me, please! Oh, please, Jim!"
She ached for the tender fire of his mouth in her pussy. Her body writhed with hunger for the sweet, demanding tug of his sucking lips and the warm caresses of his tongue.
"Please, honey?"
Jim's lips touched the bulging membranes of one pussy lip in a kiss as light as the stroke of a moth's wing. Pam jerked her knee and her hip jumped upward while she gasped with pleasure.
"Ooooh, yes, love! Oooh, that's so good!"
He kissed her again, as lightly as before and on a different spot, and she sighed her delight. Again and again his lipsbrushed the quivering tissues while her belly writhed and her breasts leaped with her her jerks at the stockings that bound her wrists.
"Oh, dear! Oh, how beautiful!" she exclaimed. "Darling, I love it!"
As her reactions intensified her pussy churned and flowered. She felt the night air touch the steaming rim of her cunt mouth and knew the overlying mounds of flesh had parted to lay it bare. Her hips undulated continuously as she steadied herself by clutching tightly at the stockings.
He pressed his lips to the outward-straining face of one pussy lip and sucked, sealing the contact edges and pulling the tingling surface out into a dome. A deep pulse of pleasure surged over her gaping folds and spread through her body.
"My . . . God! Jim, Jim!" Her eyes opened wide with the impossible sweetness of the sensation. "Omigod, how wonderful can it feel?"
Gently, progressing the length of one pussy lip and back along the other, he sucked at every mounded segment of her tissues until their color deepened to scorched crimson and their outlines merged and twisted.
The tip of his tongue caressed the seething flesh, its wet heat leaving a bright trail of fiery red where it dragged. And the undulation of her hips rotated her pussy forward and back in ever-faster turns. With his hands resting in the hollows of her inner thighs, he caught at the plump pussy lips and spread them further. He stretched and flattened them to open the floor of her gash and smooth it into a broad path paved with her own thickening wetness. He plowed shallow furrows through the gleaming layers and traced lingering circles around the gasping mouth of her cunt.
Pam's head rocked from side to side while her hair leaped and twisted beneath her. She tensed her shoulders and twisted them and her breasts swung pendulously. The overlapped, interconnected fibers in her pussy felt to her as if they were crawling among themselves.
"Oh, no, darling!" she panted. "Oh, no! Nothing can feel this good ever! Oh, suck me, darling! Please suck me!"
She knew she was begging for something that would have shocked her into painful silence half a week earlier. But her longing and the memory of the sweet fury his sucking mouth had awakened in her belly drowned the concept of propriety and she cried out in fierce, defiant certainty that she knew what she wanted. "Now, Jim! Oh, Jim, suck it now!"
He placed his fingers at the edges of her clitoral hood and peeled it back to reveal the tiny, trembling roll of hard flesh that consisted of the most sensitive tissues in her body. His lips closed around the pale cylinder and he sucked gently.
"YES, HONEY! OH, JESUS, YES . . . EEEE!"
Her hips leaped violently and her breasts bounded into wild arcs of motion. She churned her hard-stretched knees and wrenched furiously at the heavy loops around her ankles.
"EEEEE!" her voice shrilled with intolerable pleasure.
Jim touched the tip of the stiffening organ with his tongue.
"Ohhh . . . Jim, honeeey! Omigod, honey!"
She felt nothing but the exquisite needles of delight coursing inward from her clitoris and could imagine nothing but a universe of exploding stars and concentrated sensation. Her body writhed without her being aware of its contortions and time stood still for her. Nothing mattered-and she was conscious of nothing-but the urgency of her pleasure and happiness. Jim's mouth at her pussy became the goal of life and the pathway to a glorious eternity.
"Oh .. . Jim . .. yes! It's going ... to make me . . . come!"
overlying mounds of flesh had parted to lay it bare. Her hips undulated continuously as she steadied herself by clutching tightly at the stockings.
He pressed his lips to the outward-straining face of one pussy lip and sucked, sealing the contact edges and pulling the tingling surface out into a dome. A deep pulse of pleasure surged over her gaping folds and spread through her body.
"My .. . God! Jim, Jim!" Her eyes opened wide with the impossible sweetness of the sensation. "Omigod, how wonderful can it feel?"
Gently, progressing the length of one pussy lip and back along the other, he sucked at every mounded segment of her tissues until their color deepened to scorched crimson and their outlines merged and twisted.
The tip of his tongue caressed the seething flesh, its wet heat leaving a bright trail of fiery red where it dragged. And the undulation of her hips rotated her pussy forward and back in ever-faster turns. With his hands resting in the hollows of her inner thighs, he caught at the plump pussy lips and spread them further. He stretched and flattened them to open the floor of her gash and smooth it into a broad path paved with her own thickening wetness. He plowed shallow furrows through the gleaming layers and traced lingering circles around the gasping mouth of her cunt.
Pam's head rocked from side to side while her hair leaped and twisted beneath her. She tensed her shoulders and twisted them and her breasts swung pendulously. The overlapped, interconnected fibers in her pussy felt to her as if they were crawling among themselves.
"Oh, no, darling!" she panted. "Oh, no! Nothing can feel this good ever! Oh, suck me, darling! Please suck me!"
She knew she was begging for something that would have shocked her into painful silence half a week earlier. But her longing and the memory of the sweet fury his sucking mouth had awakened in her belly drowned the concept of propriety and she cried out in fierce, defiant certainty that she knew what she wanted. "Now, Jim! Oh, Jim, suck it now!"
He placed his fingers at the edges of her clitoral hood and peeled it back to reveal the tiny, trembling roll of hard flesh that consisted of the most sensitive tissues in her body. His lips closed around the pale cylinder and he sucked gently.
"YES, HONEY! OH, JESUS, YES . . . EEEE!"
Her hips leaped violently and her breasts bounded into wild arcs of motion. She churned her hard-stretched knees and wrenched furiously at the heavy loops around her ankles.
"EEEEE!" her voice shrilled with intolerable pleasure.
Jim touched the tip of the stiffening organ with his tongue.
"Ohhh . . . Jim, honeeey! Omigod, honey!"
She felt nothing but the exquisite needles of delight coursing inward from her clitoris and could imagine nothing but a universe of exploding stars and concentrated sensation. Her body writhed without her being aware of its contortions and time stood still for her. Nothing mattered-and she was conscious of nothing-but the urgency of her pleasure and happiness. Jim's mouth at her pussy became the goal of life and the pathway to a glorious eternity.
"Oh .. . Jim . .. yes! It's going ... to make me . . . come!"
Her frenzied lunges made her body leap and sway and Jim put one arm around her waist and pulled her belly against his chest. Stilled in her wild gyrations, Pam snapped her hips in and out with savage force. Her breasts knocked against Jim's waist and her nipples rubbed across the wiry strands of his body hair. His massive cock jerked, inches from her face and she stared fixedly at the pulse that beat in the bulging underside.
Jim was filling her with a sensation sweeter than any she'd ever experienced, she realized dimly. His face buried in the wetness of her crotch and the tip of his nose scarcely the width of a hair away from her cunt mouth, he was unselfishly accepting the demands of her body for stimulation she could get no other way. And she remembered vividly the ecstatic arching of Tommy's slight body when she'd made a cunt of her mouth for him. Vast tenderness toward Jim welled in her and she pressed her face forward timidly to kiss the bulging darkness of his cockhead.
Her lips slipped in thin, colorless wetness and she jerked back, startled. The tip of her tongue came out hesitantly to taste the residue and the backs of her cheeks puckered at the flat, metallic flavor. The reaction in her mouth did something to her she couldn't define and her desire to touch the rounded surface collided with fear of the pleasure the first wet touch had brought. But her momentary awareness of the great cock faded in the insistent waves of sensation in her pussy.
"Stop for a minute, honey! EEEEE! STOP, STOP!!"
Chapter 11
Jim released her clitoris and raised his head. Pam shuddered and sagged against him; her body quieted and only a slow undulation of her hips revealed the level of excitement that still burned in her. She let her cheek rest against the heat of Jim's cock and suppressed the squeamishness she felt at the slick wetness that spread slowly where his cockhead was trapped at the angle of her jaw.
"Honey ..." she whispered. "Honey, nothing's ever felt so' good to me as it does when you suck me like that. Do you hate it?"
Jim chuckled. "Not me! First time I tried it I wondered. Pretty goddamn gooey, it looked like. But I found out something."
"What? What did you find out, Jim?"
"There's a taste. Puss, it's a taste that puckers the back of my jaw like eating raw dill! Only it jerks at a string that's attached clear down by my balls, and it turns me on like a rocket! With a feeling like that, I grab a bite every chance I get!"
"I... I kissed your penis."
"I know. Startled the hell out of me! I almost clamped down on your clit with my teeth!"
"Oh, my!" She paused. "Honey... the taste ... it puckered like you said. And there was a funny tugging somewhere else, only the sucking was doing things so strong I couldn't tell where."
"You're a funny, sweet girl, Pam. Sometimes I wonder how a woman can be as innocent as you and still be old enough to vote."
"All the things I don't do?"
"No. All the things that happen inside and you can't tell what's happening."
"Honey? Does it excite you terribly to look at me when I'm like this?"
"Jesus!"
"And to touch each other the way we do?" "Drives me ape, puss. Rubbing together and . . . Jesus!" "Rub, honey."
"Want me to make you excited again?"
"God, Jim! I am! I'm so excited I might come without even knowing it's going to happen! No, honey ... to excite you!"
"Huh? For real?"
"Please, honey!"
He fondled her head, thrusting his fingers into her hair and bunching it in his hand and rubbing it against her face. She shivered. He collected a great fistful of hair, close to her head, and gripped it firmly. She found herself unable to twist either direction and watched with alarm while his other fist closed on the thick shaft of his cock. Slowly and deliberately he rubbed the brutal, slick-coated nose of his cockhead across her face. The slimy wetness laid a track over her cheek from the back of her jaw to the corner of her eye. She squeezed her lids together and felt the slippery bulb trail across them, pressing momentarily into the depression around each eye, and around her other cheek. He rubbed the hot meat along each side of her nose and thrust the slit onto one nostril, the acrid odor knotting her pussy with a savage force that startled her.
"Oh! Oh, my!" she exclaimed breathlessly. And then, "MMM!" as the thick-coated dome thrust against her lips.
She clamped them over her teeth and her jaw quivered. When the pulsing cockhead stayed on her mouth she wrenched her head, but Jim's relentless grip in her hair held her face motionless. Slowly and lightly, Jim rubbed his cockhead from one corner of her mouth to the other, back and forth repeatedly, while the fluid that oozed from his slit laid a thickening blanket of wetness over her lips.
"Mmh ... Mmh!" She jerked helplessly, novel surges of excitement coursing along her body.
He was doing something just for himself, she realized. For the first time in their lovemaking he was doing something to excite himself without any thought as to stimulating her. He was being utterly, brutally selfish. But he'd said something about identifying one's inner sensations, she reminded herself. Whether she would have permitted him the experiment or not, he was encouraging her to know her sensations better. And he'd done so many things to stimulate her that she owed him something in return.
She timidly tasted the slime that was building up on her mouth and experienced again the strange puckering and the tug in her belly. It was an insistent tug that reached the edges of her pussy, too, and made them tingle pleasantly. With sudden, reckless defiance, she scooped the wetness off her lips and tongued the slit in Jim's cockhead. The slow rubbing stopped and he held the slit on the center of her lips. Shyly at first, then boldly, she worked her tongue around the slit and the slopes surrounding it. Pursing her lips she sucked at the slit and drained it of its secretions. Then she parted them further to suck at the broader slopes as she might at a melting ice cream cone. With each area she dried of the pungent-tasting coating she sucked at a larger part of the bulge and lubricated it with her own saliva. And she found herself closing her mouth over half the cockhead with her tongue rubbing the enclosed roundness.
His hand still firmly locked in her hair, Jim pushed gently against her half-opened mouth. His cockhead lodged against her teeth and pressed patiently against them. Reluctantly, as if responding to an inner compulsion she couldn't resist, she let his cock wedge her jaws apart and force its way into her mouth. The engorged bulb widened to a ridge that distended her jaws to their fullest opening and she strained while that shoulder ground past her teeth. Her tongue was crowded toward the back of her mouth and the great bulb filled the cavity between her molars. Her lips closed in a taut ring around the heavy shaft and she started to suck.
She was conscious of a weird sensation, the suction making the solid knob swell and soften, then harden and return to shape as the suction eased. And she was intensely aware of the irregular tremors that seized Jim's thighs and passed upward into his belly with her tongue's thrusts. As she sucked harder and scrubbed the dome of his cockhead with the back of her tongue, Jim's scrotum seemed to draw up and his balls rose in it until they quivered at the base of his cock.
Jim groaned and grabbed her waist with both hands. His fingertips dug at the sides of her spine and his thumbs kneaded her sunken belly. His hips jabbed, shaking as if they were restrained only by his will power from slamming at her face.
"Christ!" he muttered raggedly. "Christ, what a mouth you've got! Pam! Pam ..."
Suddenly, savagely, he began to mouth her cunt. He gobbled furiously at her clitoris and pressed her body against his. Her head was pushed sharply backward by his cock and her body leaped into powerful contortions under the goad of his fierce chewing. As her frenzy mounted, she gulped greedily at the bulb in her mouth. She jammed against it, forcing its nose into the softness of her throat and swallowing feverishly.
Jim let go of her clitoris and thrust his mouth to her cunt mouth, his tongue extended into the cavity and his jaws opening to gulp in great mounds of the surrounding flesh. Sucking and chewing, he drove his tongue deeply into her vagina. Harsh spasms of pleasure tore at her and she bobbed her head, working her lips back and forth on the shaft of his cock. In the pounding flood of lust, Jim's short hip-jabs abruptly changed character; he began to fuck, and his cock thrust violently at her mouth. Giddy with lust and sick with desire to present Jim with a new experience, she extended her jaw as far as she could and let his cock slam repeatedly to the back of her throat. Every blow snapped her head back and brought an explosion of sparkling points of light. But she maintained the seal of her lips and continued to suck and swallow.
Her belly churned and her thighs hardened. She knew she was going to come and wanted to scream out the news, but nothing could tear her away from the marvelous, spongy bulb in her mouth. Savage contractions squeezed Jim's tongue where it penetrated the rim of her cunt and raced inward to contort the walls of her vagina. She gripped the taut stockings and pulled ferociously at them, driving the back of her throat against the unyielding nose of Jim's cockhead. Her eyes wide and unblinking, she watched sudden, spasmodic jerks along the underside of his cock and hard leaps of his balls. Warm, sticky jism erupted into her throat and oozed around the slopes of Jim's cockhead into her cheeks. The taste maddened her and she swallowed desperately, determined not to lose the smallest drop of his precious cum.
When her spasms weakened and the primitive lust that roared in her head began to quiet, she loosened her grip on the stockings and let her head rock back. She sucked more gently on the now-quivering cock and felt it shrink and soften. Her flaming cunt shriveled with the cessation of her contractions and Jim's brutal chewing gave way to gentle nuzzling. A great shudder passed over her and she pressed tightly to his sweating body. He caressed her buttocks and the arch of her back and rolled his head to rub his cheek on her thigh.
At last he pulled back, extracting his limp cock from her mouth. She sucked tenderly as she lost it, drying the wrinkling head with her lips as she coaxed a last clump of coagulating semen from its slit. She swallowed again and explored her mouth with her tongue to collect the stray pockets of his jism and pass them to her throat.
Jim finally backed away from her. He pulled the table close, untied the stockings from her wrists, and clambered to the table top. Squatting, he caught her by the waist and lifted her. He held her to him, one arm circling his waist, while he lifted the ropes off the ceiling hooks, and he rotated her and cradled her in his arms.
"Jim!" she whispered. "My God, darling, are you going to hate me now?"
"What for, for Christ's sake?"
"Oh, Jim, don't! You know what for! What kind of woman gets so back-alley hot she sucks a man off?"
"Or even uses the expression." He laughed contentedly. "Want me to tell you?"
"I don't know. I think I'm afraid to hear."
"I'll tell you anyhow. A woman who loves sex and giving pleasure too much to remember all the pious taboos that go with bogeymen and goblins."
"You're just saying that." She kept her face hidden on his shoulder.
"By God, Pam, it's what I believe!"
"What do you believe about hanging a woman by her feet for sexual entertainment?"
"I believe in it! Goddamn it, I believe in doing everything I've ever heard of if it excites the woman and me! Everything!"
"Like whipping or ... "
"Some things are pretty specialized. Sure, some kinds of people get their kicks out of things that would turn most of us off. I knew a few broads while I was in med school who'd work up real frantic orgasms while a guy was spanking their butts. And they'd come even faster if he stripped them and tied them to a post and used a whip. But that's not a thing that turns most women on that hard." He sat down with her, swinging his feet while the table swayed. "One of these days soon, I'm going to show you something unusual. When I've got you spread out good, I mean. There's a spot where you can stick a needle and produce instant orgasm. Keep coming as long as ... "
"Jim ..." Pam felt chilled and numbed. "Jim? JIM!!!" She felt the scream well up in her throat and couldn't choke it back. It tumbled over her lips, bubbling and undulating and searing the eum-sweet membranes at the back of her mouth.
Jim nodded and the two started out the door, Jim grabbing his clothes on the way out.
"Wait!" Pam called. "Wait! I didn't mean . . . "
"It's okay, baby," said Barry quickly. "It's going to be okay."
"You go ahead with the men, darling," said Willa to Hank. "I know my Jim. This young lady's going to need soothing before she can get to sleep. I'll come soon."
Pam watched Hank go through the door. "Hank ..." she called doubtfully once more.
She felt dizzy and confused; thoughts were twisting rebelliously around each other. She knew vaguely there wasn't the right amount of blood in her brain, but she didn't know whether there might still be too much or-in a sort of pendulum effect-too little. She only knew the terrible fright Jim had given her was still lurking in the back of her consciousness and she wanted one of her friends with her.
She stumbled into her own room and fell onto her bed, ignoring the ropes that still dragged from her ankles. Her eyes closed and she lay as if in a stupor, whimpering softly. She needed someone. Jim-dear, lovable, brilliant Doctor Jim-was the killer after all. He'd told her that. He'd told her clearly that one of these days he'd fasten her down-spread-eagle her, he'd implied-and use a needle to produce an instant orgasm. And only her insane screaming had been there to keep today from being one of these days.
Hank stuck her head into the bedroom. "Are you really all right, Pam? Really?"
Pam mumbled. "Sure. I'm okay. But Jim's got this thing about needles, honey. Watch out. And he's Willa's boy; he won't ever be anybody else's."
"Pam, you're raving. Get to sleep now. Come on Her body convulsed with it and she fought to free herself from the arms that were so suddenly like bands of steel.
"Pam!" Jim's voice sounded like a distant whisper in the sea of her scream. "Pam! Shut up! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, PAM, SHUT UP!!"
He hit her in the face with his open hand and the taut spring that kept the scream coming seemed to snap.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed, his voice low. "You stupid broad!"
There was a commotion outside the door and the sound of quick, urgent voices. The door slammed open and Barry sprang into the room, wild-eyed and terrified.
"PAM!" he yelled. "You okay, Pam?"
Hank crowded after him and Willa Parks was gaping over Hank's shoulder.
"I'm okay," whispered Pam. She shrank against Jim and clutched at him suddenly. "Just. . . just..." She smiled weakly at Barry. "I feel so ashamed. I think I half dozed with Jim holding me. And then there was this awful nightmare . . . needles and . . . and ..."
Almost reverently, Jim's lips touched her forehead. He slid off the table and set her on her feet, but she continued to lean against him. When she felt strong enough-and when she was still puzzled over her poise when these three had found her in such unmistakable circumstances-she drew away from him.
"I think I need sleep," she said slowly.
"Christ! I should think so!" Barry shot a penetrating look at her, raised his eyebrows briefly as if with sudden understanding, and tightened his mouth. "Come on, Jim. Let's have a drink and let Pam get some rest."
over when you wake up." Then Hank left again.
Pam didn't want to be alone. She couldn't say that, though. It would hurt Willa, and Willa had been hurt too many times in her lonely lifetime. The worst hurt of all, maybe, would be to find out the boy she'd had to send to Menningers for treatment-to heal emotions his childhood had warped-was a killer. No wonder the two girls hadn't shown they'd been raped! If Jim believed the needle produced instant orgasm-and if he believed, it was true for him-then why expect physical evidence? Willa came quietly into the room. "Poor dear," she murmured. "Poor, poor dear. I know how your joints must ache. You're going to need a massage before you'll be able to sleep."
"You do, don't you?" said Pam groggily. "Know how I ache, I mean."
"Stretch your arms out, dear. Let's get those muscles the way they were and work the knots out."
Pam extended her arms toward the head of the bed and Willa began kneading them.
"You do know, don't you?" Pam repeated herself, not sure she'd said it the first time.
"He told you, then."
"Yes."
The gentle, circling motions of Willa's fingers felt unbelievably good to Pam, especially when Jim's aunt started working life into the numbed wrists. And the cloth she wrapped them in warmed and dried them, soothing as if they'd been peeled. She seemed a shadowy figure as she moved about the bed and Pam was intensely aware of the older woman's sexual magnetism. Any man who failed to feel it would have to be queer, she realized. Suppressed eagerness and lust were the core of her vitality. In her quick, tightly controlled movements they oozed from her. Such a woman had to have a man and she could keep that man quivering with desire even in the moments after an orgasm.
Pam recalled having told Hank that Jim was Willa's boy and would never be anyone else's. In every woman, he tried to recreate the aunt who was the center of his being. Pam tensed, realizing her statement could have had another implication.
Jim was all Willa had. No matter that it was her own choice; she'd housed him and fed him and while she was doing that she'd educated him to take the place his father had once filled for her. No other man would do because no other had the wealth of skill and understanding Jim had. No other knew her wants, in all the subtle ways that were important, as she'd trained Jim to know them. And she needed him. She needed more than he could ever give-and oftener. More than any one male could ever give, Pam knew.
Willa hadn't molded Jim Parks as a husband for some other woman; she'd created him for herself. She'd never give him up to another woman, either, even if she had to kill! Pam readied herself. She could pull her body together like a spring and fling herself from the room and get to Hank's and Barry's in time to save her own life. Willa was a formidable creature, but Pam had recovered sufficiently for that by now.
She started to coil herself. Her arms refused to move and she jerked. If her wrists would just. . .
"NO!" she shrieked. "Oh, merciful God, NO!"
Willa laughed shortly and finished spread-eagling Pam when she saw Pam had discovered her arms were tied.
"God, you're stupid!" she told Pam. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up to the fact before you were dead!" She leaned across to thrust her face close to Pam's. "You keep quiet. I'll knock the wind out of you the first move you make to scream, and then I'll stuff your mouth before you get your breath back."
She could do it, Pam knew. She was quick enough, and being spread-eagled exposed Pam completely to such a blow. She might have time for one good yell, though, and she had to save that opportunity. She'd use it the moment she heard a sound out of Hank and Barry; Jim would be leaving their apartment soon and they'd have their door open and hear that one, choked-off cry for help.
Willa stared at her with mockery in her eyes. "He was so sure the code was our way of giving me part of his pleasure." She laughed bitterly. "It was so easy to know whether he was fucking a loser or really training someone. And when he was training one, it was so easy to put her out of the way."
But Pam knew the injection of air wouldn't be easy-not for a novice.
"But you weren't a novice!" she half-whispered. "All those years with Doctor Willard! You must have had to do things like that for him sometimes!"
"I was pretty rusty. Made a lousy job of Bowman. But it came back fast. Neat job on Gutieres. I didn't really expect them to find it at all."
"You won't get away with it. You'll never get away with it a third time!" "I will."
"But, Jim! He'll wake up to what's happened!"
Willa laughed sardonically. "So? I think he already knows, only he's got a psychological block against recognizing that he does. He doesn't want to know, Kendall. He wants me! He wants to find out he can't have anybody but me! When he's sure of that in his subconscious, he's going to be totally happy. And I think he knows now." "Willa . . . Miss Parks ..."
"Listen, Kendall." Willa had her office voice on-the one Pam had early come to recognize as her "I don't take any shit from upstart nurses, young lady," voice. "I don't really have a great deal of time. I did think there was one thing you might have found fun if Jim had gotten around to it though. We might show you while I'm getting my syringe ready and all."
She left the room briefly, then returned with her shoulderbag. Laying it on the foot of the bed between Pam's outstretched legs, she delved into it and produced an electric vibrator. Pam stared, fascinated. There was a thick shaft protruding from the device and what looked like a blood pressure bulb on the end of the shaft. Willa held the vibrator up.
"Turn this knob and the bulb expands," she remarked. "Keeps the thing from falling out."
Brusquely, she thrust the shaft into Pam's cunt mouth. Pam grunted angrily. She felt the bulb expanding and realized the heavy shaft would stay in her until someone released pressure in the bulb. Willa plugged the cord into an outlet and turned the vibrator on. Pam gasped and her hips leaped. Her ass hung quivering, high off the mattress. Deep, powerful vibration instantly activated all her sexual responses. She even imagined she was experiencing a breast massage. And in her heightened state of awareness the effect was devastating.
Willa gave her a wintry smile. "Make the most of it, Kendall. If you're lucky, you'll come just about the time the bubble hits your heart. And there could be lots worse ways to go out."
The receptionist removed a small box from her bag and opened it. She assembled the barrel and plunger of a syringe and fitted a serum needle to the end.
Working the plunger slowly back and forth, she said, "I use about fifty cc's. It seems to do the job very effectively. Try not to jump; it makes it harder to get into the vein."
Calmly, she wrapped a cuff around Pam's upper arm, pumped it up and felt for the vein. With a nod of satisfaction, she picked up the syringe.
Chapter 12
Pam writhed helplessly. She had to scream now; there wasn't going to be another chance. But she'd have to try to catch Willa off guard. With no one in the hall, she had to make it a good one.
"Oh, God!" she moaned, knowing she'd be telling Willa the truth. "I will! I will be coming! It's . .. unnnh! .. . the vibrator's ..."
"Make the most of it, Kendall. I doubt they've got orgasms on the other side." She held the needle up and squinted at it, pulled the plunger back, then bent over Pam's arm.
"HOLD IT! GODDAMN YOU, WILLA, HOLD IT!"
Pam shook violently at the enraged roar. Barry loomed over Willa and grabbed her arm, pinning it to the bed. She snatched at the syringe with her other hand and he swung her around. She struggled fiercely for a moment, then sagged in his grip and dropped the syringe.
"HANK! BARRY! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!" Pam writhed helplessly, fighting back her excitement.
Hank sprang past Barry and yanked the cord away from the outlet. Pam sank to the bed and moaned softly.
"There's a knob. Turn it before you pull at the vibrator."
Hank's eyes widened as she followed Pam's instructions. She deflated the bulb and carefully withdrew the shaft from Pam. Moving quickly, she untied the knots and helped Pam sit.
"Housecoat, sweetie?" she asked.
"Oh, please! I feel like I've been naked all my life!"
She pulled the robe about her and fastened it. Hank led her from the apartment, after coiling the vibrator cord around the device and quietly depositing the vibrator in the lingerie drawer of Pam's dresser. They waited in Hank's and Barry's apartment and Barry finally joined them.
"Pam okay?" he asked Hank.
"Woozy, but okay otherwise."
"I'm not either woozy! I'm perfectly all right!" Pam objected fiercely. "All I need is a drink." She rose and started toward the bar. And then, "Oh, shit! I'm going to faint!"
She was sure afterward she'd never been completely unconscious, but her memory of the ride to the hospital and the night in the special room wasn't quite clear to her. By morning, though, she felt fine and Barry and Hank took her home, both taking the day off. Pam was reluctant to talk about the previous night's events and the other two stayed off the subject on the way to Barton. But when they were in the Tindell apartment with drinks in their hands, Hank broke the barrier.
"You were almost too subtle about Willa," she said.
Pam was startled. "Huh?"
"I mean, it's all right to play heroine and set traps and all those good things, but baby, you've got to spell it out for poor old Hank Tindell."
"Honey, I'm confused." Pam shook her head. "But how did you manage to get there just in time? How did you happen to get there at all?"
Hank looked blankly at her. "You .. . you didn't mean that as a hint? That bit about Jim being her boy and always would be?"
"Of course, I did! I thought he was the killer!"
"But how could you think that? He was right here in this apartment when you got that first phone call and in the restaurant with you when you got the second!"
"I thought there was somebody who was jealous. In fact, I realized sometime-maybe it was after Willa already had me where I couldn't do anything about it-that it had to be her. But she kept warning me away from Jim!"
"And telling you to look out for the note. Sure. Barry and I decided the first thing to do was figure out how to have as few mysterious people as possible. That meant assuming the caller and the murderer were just one person."
"But..."
"You didn't tell us everything the voice said to you, did you?"
"Wellll, no. It was mostly about what Jim was going to do. I didn't want to make him feel bad. Well, there was a little bit about what he and I had already done, too."
"Okay. When you made that crack about his being her little boy . . . well, I watched Jim when we got back here." Hank colored. "Matter of fact, I asked him what all this business about needles and nightmares was all about."
Barry started to laugh. "From what Jim says, you went all to pieces just because he made some reference to acupuncture."
"He did like hell! He made a crack about tying me up and making me come by sticking a needle into me!"
"Sugar, sugar! That's acupuncture!"
"Oh, come on, Barry! Acupuncture's curing illness with needles!"
He sighed and grinned. "To Jim, you're sick if you're not in an orgasm or within a half hour of one, one way or the other."
"Well, I'll be damned if anybody's going to stick any needles in me to make me come!" She shuddered and pressed her hands to her crotch.
Barry laughed again, gustily and openly. "Okay, okay. We'll make that the Eleventh Tindell "Commandment."
She glanced sharply at him but made no reply.
Hank resumed her account of their reasoning. "Jim acted a little put out about that and Barry suggested he'd been pushing you too hard on the inhibition bit. I guess Jim was just out of sorts or something, because he took off."
Barry nodded. "Hank made some smart-ass crack about him being his aunty's little boy and I asked what the hell that was supposed to mean. When she told me what you'd said it hit both of us at the same time. Everything sort of fitted together . . . the way she'd brought Jim up . . . the way he's been catting around since he came back from school . . . the whole damn bit. And with Willa in the star role it was easy to see how the murderer and the caller could be one person."
"She made those calls just so I'd squirm?"
There was a knock at the door and Jim called to them. "Okay if I come in?"
"Sure," replied Barry. "Ain't locked."
Jim looked uncomfortable to Pam when he entered. She knew she was right when he spoke.
"Well, nurse. I see you're better. Lost a day there somehow, didn't you."
"I ... I got a good rest." To her surprise, she felt ill at ease, herself. She wasn't sure how one handled a situation of this kind. "I'm sorry about your aunt, Jim." She said it softly, on impulse.
Jim nodded bleakly, then smiled at her and appeared to regain something of his normal poise. "Afraid you had it pretty rough, puss. Hell of an experience."
"Sanity hearing today, Jim?" asked Barry.
"Tomorrow." He dropped to the couch. "I saw her last night. I think they're going to decide she needs treatment."
"Will she go to trial?"
"I doubt it. They'll find she wasn't sane when she planned the first killing ... or any time after that."
Pam winced. "It's going to be awful for you."
"I doubt it." Jim grinned suddenly and seemed more himself. "Look at it from the psychiatrist's point of view. Sober, self-denying, respectable woman like Willa . .. dedicated to her nephew's well-being for almost twenty years . . . conventional old maid with an iron-clad reputation for avoiding compromising relationships. Christ, how far they going to dig?"
Barry's reaction fascinated Pam. He drew a long breath and his eyes widened, as if he'd made a discovery, and he stared at his colleague with an air of near-awe.
"Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed softly. "Of course! Everything's there to work for her! When a woman that respectable goes around doing what she did it's got to be insanity! And not a breath about her having a sex life of her own!"
Jim nodded vigorously. He showed none of his earlier lack of self-assurance. "Exactly! How far do you have to look when a woman like that all of a sudden starts spread-eagling innocent girls, naked, and shooting air into them? Loony as a fruitcake! And influenced by that string of rapes! Hell, they'll go into that hearing convinced they know all the answers. She'll be lucky if they let her say ten words!"
Pam saw the picture and sensed the delicious irony. She laughed, gently and easily, aware that Willa's future-and the obvious course it would take in the next few weeks-had a bearing on her own situation as profound as the woman's attempt on her life. "Because 'nice people don't do it'!" she exclaimed in wonder.
"Huh?" Hank looked quizzically at her. "What's that?"
Pam laughed again, overcome by the ridiculous inevitability of the panel's decision. "Oh, Hank! Don't you see! It isn't what people really feel and do and want! It's what we pretend they're like! We've got to be part of a story book! Willa Parks was a story-book aunt. She was self-sacrificing; look at the way she slaved all her life for her dead brother's son and how she denied herself to get him through school!"
Barry chuckled, clearly attuned to Pam's new understanding. "And med school, at that," he added. "So devoted to that 'duty' she refused to let anything else into her life! Even love with a man!"
"Yes! Yes!" Pam's excitement grew. "In the story book everybody looks for that kind of commitment! And when something shocking like those rapes comes along, who's going to be bothered most? A woman who knows how attractive she is and put the hope of a sex life out of her mind years before! If she's really all that pure, those rapes will have built a kind of tension in her none of the others would feel!"
"Okay, I got it." Hank grinned. "So when Jimmy-boy starts showing something for the cute chicks around the hospital, something snaps. If it's got anything to do with sex, it's on the subconscious level. . . something out of Freud. And she's got a compulsion that makes her a 'sleep walker' every time she strikes out at one of those predatory broads . . . wakes up convinced that goddamn rapist shocked the girl as badly as rape would shock her if he tried to rape her."
"Sure! Play-acting! Everything acted out to fit the dream! And even the injection of air . . . closest she could come to bringing on the heart attack a really innocent, super-pure girl ought to have when some villain violates her."
Jim nodded soberly. "Trouble is, there's probably a lot of truth in all that. I mean, so far as Willa was concerned. I know that's how the shrinks are going to see it. And Willa's not going to say one goddamn thing to screw up their theory. But I wonder .. .I'm not so sure it's all horseshit. Even having the private life she-we-did, I think her approach was exactly parallel to that."
"Maybe." Pam was ready to grant the possibility; it didn't affect the thing she'd discovered. "The thing is, they don't have to know what really went on in her mind-or what kind of love life she really lived. The story-book version gives them all the motives and mechanics they need. And it's neat, like a Christmas package."
Barry sighed. "That's what people want, Pam. A nice, neat, story-book package. If you keep the wrapper and the ribbons tidy, they'd rather not see all the interesting things that go on inside."
"Oh, you and your tidy wrappers!" Hank snorted. "What I'd like to know is how come Willa did those first two in the park?"
"Acting out the fantasy, maybe." Jim shrugged. "I have a hunch she figured it was safer than running the risk of being seen around then-apartments. And it wouldn't be too hard for her to get them to meet her somewhere. What the hell? Dr. Parks' aunt ought to have a friendly interest in a girl he might be thinking of marrying."
"But with everybody jumpy about rape? And right down there by the river?" Hank looked dubious.
"He hasn't ever made a pass at two women at once," observed Jim. "What the hell! Even that stupid editor made a big deal out of that. What did he say? 'If you're going to walk near the river, go with at least one friend,' wasn't it? And that's what the girls were doing-all of them. Except when one forgot, now and then."
Pam stopped listening. Jim was right, she knew. He'd told Nora about his youth with Willa, just as he'd told her. And undoubtedly he'd told Irma. When Willa had approached them with the interest that kind of aunt could be expected to show in her nephew's happy sex life, the girls had thought it entirely natural-for the woman Jim had made them see in Willa. With the park as deserted as it was at night, and Jim's thing about outdoor sex, they'd probably even been turned on when Willa offered to confide in them-to give them one free lesson on the side-to let them in on one specialty she'd say really curled Jim's toes. They'd likely felt a real thrill of wickedness and daring when they'd undressed and let her secure them the way they already knew Jim liked to. And maybe they'd even thought the injection was something to produce a special effect.
She returned to her surroundings with a start. Jim was on his feet and there seemed to be a general stir. She got up.
"I ought to do something about straightening my apartment up," she murmured to Hank.
"Okay. But come on back when you're done. Let's have a picnic this afternoon-out in the country. Weather man says it's going to turn cold tonight. Big storm on the way."
Pam grinned. "I'm all for a picnic. Ill hurry."
Jim left with her and followed her into her own apartment. He apologized for having scared her with his comment about the needle and, awkwardly, for his aunt. Then he reached hungrily for her. She let him take her in his arms. She responded to his kiss, too, but quietly. In a moment she pulled gently away.
"Not yet, Jim," she said softly. "Okay?"
He studied her. "Of course. Best give things a chance to settle a little in your mind. Anything I can do to help here?"
When she'd convinced him there wasn't that much to do, he left. She busied herself with the little that needed doing-collecting clothes and putting them away and getting the table back in the right place-and thought about Jim and herself.
He was his aunt's boy; she'd been right about that. He wanted Willa. If he did marry, he'd want to marry a custom made copy of his aunt. But they'd release Willa into his custody and he'd be happy-forced to live with her and provided with the proper wrappings and ribbons for pubic display. Pam shivered. That household wasn't going to be dull.
But she wanted no part of it. There would be times when she would have a need for Jim and his lust. She'd satisfy the need when it arose and consider him a good friend the rest of the time.
She surveyed the apartment and decided it was ready for inspection. She changed into a skirt and halter for the picnic. Within a half hour, she was with Hank and Barry and well out of Barton.
On the grassy knoll Barry had selected-a spot they'd loved for its seclusion and natural beauty-she stretched on the blanket. Barry was beside her and Hank lay beyond him. Pam stretched happily.
"It's going to be fun," she said. "Really fun."
"What?" Hank had a note of alert curiosity in her voice.
"Everything. Just everything." And then, speculatively, "What's it take to repeal Commandments, Barry?"
"Huh?"
"Like the Tindell Ten." "You for real?"
She laughed, delighted at the easy feeling of freedom that warmed her. "For real."
"Christ, sweetie!" Hank sat up and looked across Barry at Pam. "What happened?"
Pam grinned at her, then stared contentedly into the sky. "I've got the wrappings and ribbons where they belong now. They're on the outside of the package where 'nice people' do things for the rest of the 'nice people' to see." Inside the package, where she lived her private life, she'd turned the portraits to the wall; the members of her Board of Directors had no place there. Conscience was a thing of individual values, she now recognized, and had to be shaped by the individual. And it really had to do with behavior that affected people.
"Inside the package," she said, "I'm going to look for the things that are fun. And there's an awful lot I haven't tried yet to see if it's fun or not." She felt the light breeze that had started without her having noticed it and stretched again as she became aware of its hint of winter on the way. It was going to be the best winter she'd ever had. She rolled toward Barry. "You two have been awfully good to me," she said softly. "I love you so much!"
Barry slipped his arm under her and drew her close. "You're a special someone, sugar."
"I'm going to have to find a special someone."
"He's waiting-somewhere. Hell show up before you know it." He squeezed her and something about the squeeze suggested awakening hunger.
Hank yawned. "Well see you're in good shape when he does."
"I thought you would. I thought maybe you'd help me explore some of those fun things I tried to hide from."
"Barry, sweetie, talk about fun things with her. That damn sun's got me so sleepy I don't even care what time it is." Hank rolled away and curled into a ball. "Wake me up if you think of something I haven't tried."
Barry chuckled and Pam laughed. Somehow Barry's hand had gotten onto Pam's breast and was doing things to her. She pressed closer and raised herself on her elbow. His mouth felt firm and inviting and she explored his lips with the tip of her tongue. He submitted quietly for a time, then responded to her invitation and thrust his own tongue deep into her mouth. His fingers worked their way inside her halter and rubbed lightly, dry and exciting as they brushed over her nipple. She squirmed happily, acutely conscious of the sun's warmth and the intimacy of the breeze.
The continuing kiss heated her and she drove her crotch against Barry's hipbone rolling halfway onto him. His hands moved restlessly, one over her front and the other at her back. Her halter came loose under his fingers and slipped away from her sides. She pulled it free and dropped it on the blanket, then began to unbutton his shirt.
"Get hair on your chest that way," he mumbled against her mouth.
She drew back and wrinkled her nose at him. "Even if it's yours, smart-ass," she retorted. "Ooh, Barry! I just love you!"
His clothes came off easily with his willing help, and she caressed his body, thrilled by the strength and fitness her fingers hadn't really explored before. She twisted herself about to fondle his cock and examine it.
"He's nice," she told Barry. "He's done nice things to me."
Barry was unfastening her skirt and she raised her hips to make it easier for him. But a gust of warmth and enthusiasm occupied her attention and she closed one hand over his cockhead and kissed the meaty bulge that ran along the underside of the stiff cock. Barry's thighs jerked and she giggled. She lipped the bulge tenderly, nibbling from just back of the head toward the base and watching his balls pull into the upper part of their sac. Reaching the base, where bristles of pubic hair pricked the corners of her mouth, she began nibbling in the other direction. She used her teeth, biting gently and quickly and tingling at the way Barry's legs were twitching.
At the head, she removed her hand and placed her lips to the slit. Her other hand grasped the shaft of Barry's cock and raised it to elevate his cockhead. With a quick, sucking kiss, she extracted a delicious drop of fluid to pucker the back of her jaws. Eagerly, then, she worked her lips over the quivering cockhead and began to caress it with her tongue.
"I'll be a son of a bitch!" exclaimed Barry softly. "You really do have the wrappings off the package, don't you!" He grasped her hips and lifted her onto him. She drew her knees under herself, astride his chest, and let him pull her bottom down. At the first warm pressure of his lips on her pussy, she gave way to a hard tremor and gulped his whole cockhead into her mouth. Her fingers fondled his balls and her nails traced white lines along the shaft of his cock while she sucked and jerked her head back and forth.
Barry parted her quickly swelling pussy lips and caressed the rim of her cunt mouth with the tip of his tongue, holding her hips and letting the wet membranes of her pussy lips cradle his lower face. Pam rubbed her tits on his belly and sucked harder. There were thrills she hadn't tried, she suspected. But this afternoon she was starting with some she knew she'd fallen in love with. And she was going to be sure Barry understood her new freedom.
