Crosley's Tavern was fairly quiet this Tuesday night in Hollywood. Old man Crosley stood behind the bar with his arms crossed, watching the evening news on TV while the three young men shot pool, talking quietly among themselves, and sipped their beers. Even the juke box was silent in the large, dimly lit room.
Boyd Keller filled his glass from the beer pitcher-it was easily their tenth pitcher of the evening-then chalked his pool cue and broke the balls. They scattered loudly, ricocheting over the green felt, but nothing dropped in the pockets. Disappointed, his handsome freckled face contorted into a frown and he tugged at the bulging fabric at his crotch.
"Man, this is a colossal waste of time," he said evenly. "We got exams coming up. We should all be home studying instead of pissing away our time."
"Bullshit!" big Knute Brunsgaard said, pawing his crotch too as he circled the table to take his shot. "We ain't scholars, remember? We're just Vietnam vets going to school on the G.I. Bill 'cause we don't know what else to do. Or have you forgotten the easy life we planned when we were overseas duckin' bullets?"
Knute picked the "solids," sank the three ball, then, squinting, continued circling the table for his next shot. He was a big man, blonde, with a premature beer belly, and inclined to be mean.
"Yeah," Jeff said from his chair at Boyd's left, "we ain't scholars, remember?" Jeff was scrawny, short and ruddy-complexioned. Knute was something of a hero to him and he tended to echo whatever the bigger man said. Automatically, he squinted and rubbed his own crotch as he watched Knute.
Boyd shook his head, wishing in a way that he had never teamed up with Knute and Jeff. Really they had very little in common. He doubted if they would be living together, sharing the two-story house they now rented in the Hollywood Hills, if it weren't necessary for them to live cheaply and if they hadn't been in the military together. Another thing; Boyd had returned to Hollywood after his military discharge because he was born and raised here, his parents and sister lived here, and his childhood sweetheart, Joanie Hildreth, still lived next door to his folks. But with Knute and Jeff it was different. Knute was from Oregon and Jeff was from Indiana. They'd come to Hollywood because they thought it was "romantic," because they thought it was swarming with young starlets they could screw. They'd really believed that crap.
Knute shot again and made the seven ball.
"Nice shot, Knute," Jeff said.
Boyd wished Jeff wasn't such a kiss ass with Knute. Sighing, he glanced over at old man Crosley just as he switched off the television.
"Anything exciting happening?" he asked.
"Nah," Crosley said, making an ape face. "Same old shit. Nobody can buy any gasoline and everybody's kidnapping somebody. The whole world's going to hell." He came over and stood beside Boyd as Knute sank another ball.
"Wow, nice!" Jeff said. "Looks like you might run the table, Knute."
"Those kidnappers still have the Hearst girl, huh?" Boyd asked. "I wonder if what they're saying is true-that she might be in on the deal."
Crosley shrugged. "Nothing would surprise me. The whole world's turning to shit, kid." He looked depressed as he studied his empty beer bar. "Especially Hollywood. Hell, this joint used to be packed even on week nights. Now it's nothing. People are afraid to go out on the streets. I don't have to tell you though, Boyd. You grew up here, right?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Boyd said. "It sure has changed."
Knute missed and came over and stood next to Boyd as Jeff studied the table. "Hey, you know what'd be a gas, man?" Knute said. "Instead of. demanding food for the poor, I think it would be fun to kidnap the daughter of some big oil man and make him fill the gas tanks of all Vietnam veterans-for free! Hey, wouldn't that be something?" Knute filled his glass with beer from the pitcher. "Can't you just visualize that, huh? Can't you?"
Jeff stopped studying the pool table. "Jesus, what a beautiful idea, Knute! No shit! You oughta be writin' for television or something. Hell, yes. Maybe you could sell the idea to a producer or something."
"Just shoot the balls, Jeff," Knute said rather gruffly. "Cut the bullshit and shoot."
Jeff obeyed. He sank the four ball, looked up for some show of appreciation, got none, and circled for his next shot.
"You know, it's funny you would think of that, Knute," Boyd said. "Tracy, my kid sister, goes to college with Janice Bambridge. Her old man is Todd Bambridge, a multimillionaire. You know who he is, don't you?"
"Huh-uh, who is he?" Knute's eyes were glazed from too much beer. "Maybe I have heard of him, but who is he?"
"He's the president of the Bamco Oil Company. He's also the principal stockholder of Bamco, and he owns plenty of other things, too. Hell, my sister was talking about Janice Bambridge just the other day. Her folks live in Dallas, Texas, but they also have a place here in Newport Beach."
"Oh wow!" Knute said. "Can't you just see all the Viet vets gettin' free gas at Bamco service stations. Beautiful ... just too beautiful."
Old man Crosley threw up his arms in despair. "You guys have had too much beer," he said, shaking his head. He turned and headed down the hall toward the men's room. "Come to think of it, so have I," he called back over his shoulder.
Instantly, Jeff came over to Boyd and Knute. He looked almost hysterical and he spoke in a frantic whisper. "Jesus Christ!" he hissed. "Have you guys lost your minds? Knute here comes up with a million-dollar idea, and then you two go blabbing it out loud so Crosley can hear!"
Jeff slapped his forehead and clawed the air as if he might have a fit. "Think-of it-I mean, seriously! We grab the girl and do just like Knute said. We make her old man fill the gas tanks of vets. It's the greatest idea I ever heard of. Hollywood's been pure Dullsville ever since we got here. This is our chance to make something happen. Hell, yes. Why not? And at the same time we can ask for a million dollars in ransom!"
Jeff began jumping up and down excitedly. "I can see all that beautiful money already. Wheeeee!"
"Oh, come off it," Boyd said. "You're talking about kidnapping. People go to jail for kidnapping. They go to jail for a long, long time."
"Wait a minute, Boyd," Knute said, grinning a bit drunkenly. "Jeff's right. It is a great idea." He smacked his palm hard with his fist, and his eyes beamed insanely. "It's true ... we have been bored stiff lately ... Yeah, let's do it! Man, we're gonna do it instead of just talking about it."
"And we can screw this-this Janice Bambridge," Jeff said. "We can do anything we want to her, Knute. We'll be the talk of the whole country when those service stations are filling up veterans' gas tanks. Whooeeeee! A-million bucks, a classy piece of ass, tons of fun!"
Boyd looked back and forth between the two of them with amazement. "Oh, dandy," he said. "Now you want to add rape to kidnapping, too. That's nice."
"All right, then," Knute said, "so we don't screw her. All right. But at least we can pull the gasoline deal with tape recordings to the family, and we can get the ransom money."
Boyd walked over to the wall and put his pool stick in the rack. "Let's go home, gang," he said. "We've all had too much beer. Do you realize that I broke the balls, Knute shot next, and now Jeff's shooting? Jeff's not even supposed to be playing, for chrisake!"
Jeff scratched his head. "Yeah, you're right," he slurred.
Old man Crosley had returned from the John and overheard them. "Good idea, fellahs," he said. "Let's all go home and I'll close up early tonight. Sorry Margie wasn't here tonight. She'll be on duty the next time you come in." He winked. "Yeah, havin' a fanny around to pat helps business, I guess. Good night."
"Good night," the three young men chorused as they went down the hall to the back door.
In the parking lot, they climbed into Knute's red Volkswagen van. Boyd insisted on driving. He burned rubber pulling out of the lot; then, with one eye closed, drove cautiously along Franklin Avenue to Beachwood Drive and turned up into the Hollywood Hills. A few minutes later, Boyd pulled into the driveway, nearly colliding with the garage door before he hit the brake.
He sighed, slouching back and staring up at the. run-down two-story house they had miraculously managed to rent for just $190 per month. Well, maybe it wasn't so miraculous, after all, he thought. The building sort of tilted to one side, needed paint badly and the upper story was covered with tentacle-like vines that threatened to cover the barred windows. The bars were not very necessary. Except for a secondhand stove, refrigerator, and hi-fi record player, there was nothing of value. The furniture and TV set that hardly worked had come from the Salvation Army Thrift Store and nobody would want what little clothing hung in the damp and musty closets. No, the bars on the windows were highly unnecessary.
Knute had fallen asleep during the drive. Boyd nudged him awake and the three of them went inside. Immediately Jeff got more beer from the refrigerator, set the quart bottles on a crate that functioned as a coffee table and flicked on the fm "rock" music station. He sat down then on the floor next to Boyd, filled three glasses, and passed them around. Knute lay on the couch.
"Hey, why don'tcha give your sister a call and find out more about this Janice Bambridge?" Knute said casually.
"What the fuck for?" Boyd asked.
"If we're going to kidnap her, we have to know more about her comings and goings-you know, her behavior patterns and all that."
"Yeah," Jeff said. "Give her a call right now."
"Sure," Boyd said, shaking his head, "or maybe I should send a telegram. 'Dear Sis: Where would make a good spot for me and my roommates to kidnap your friend, Janice Bambridge?' Sure." Boyd tapped his fingers on the crate in time to the music coming over the fm.
"You don't seem to understand, Boyd," Knute said. "Jeff and I are dead serious about this kidnapping."
"Good, then you and Jeff go ahead." Boyd stifled a yawn. "I still don't understand why we're drinking beer and talking nonsense when we should be studying for exams."
"Screw exams," Jeff said. "All we need is Cs to qualify for our monthly checks. We fought for our country, right? So now we're entitled to guzzle beer and plan this kidnapping. I suggest we cut classes tomorrow, visit the USC campus, and make a dry run on the actual crime. We have to decide on the exact time and place to nab this Janice chick. Also, we have to get a good look at her. I mean, we don't want to kidnap the wrong girl."
"Jeff's right," Knute said. "The whole caper would be pointless if we grabbed some nobody. We couldn't get vets' gas tanks filled and we couldn't get the million dollars." Knute took a big swig of his beer. "So go ahead and call your sister now. Time's a wastin'. "
Boyd studied both of his roommates' faces for a moment. Their seriousness suddenly struck him as hysterically funny. He began laughing so hard he fell back clutching his ribs and rolling from side to side. Finally, tears still in his eyes, he sat up and regained his composure.
"Sorry about that outburst, gang," he said. "But you guys really crack me up. You really do. I wish you guys could see yourselves ... two hardened criminals plotting a crime. Too much." Boyd giggled slightly as he sipped his been
Knute's eyes were narrowed. Jeff glanced at Knute and then his eyes narrowed too.
"I want to remind you of something, Boyd," Knute said. "After our discharge, you returned here your home town-your folks, your girl friend, everything. Jeff and I did not return to our home towns. Instead, we came here to Hollywood to be with you-to be where all the 'action' was." Knute sat up abruptly, his eyes blazing, as he pointed his big index finger menacingly at Boyd. "Now you listen, mother-fucker, and you listen good. There ain't been any action here. None! I ain't even been laid in two months, for chrisake. Hollywood's been like some fuckin' morgue. Here's our chance for some real excitement-"
"And money," Jeff interrupted.
"Yeah, and money, too," Knute said. "Goddammit, Boyd, have you forgotten the guys we saw get killed-our buddies we seen with their guts hangin' out? Shit, we didn't think we was even gonna make it back to the States, did we? Well, we're here and nothing's been shakin, baby, and now we're gonna make something shake! And whatever happens to us won't be nearly as bad as what we thought would happen in Vietnam. We're not dead ... we're alive ... so let's live!"
Boyd stared numbly at Knute, at Jeff, at the crate and other run-down furniture in the room about him. At that moment, he knew exactly the way Knute felt, for he had often shared Knute's feelings of despair and meaninglessness these past few months. Still, he knew that kidnapping was not the answer. He, too, wanted something exciting to happen, but he was not willing to commit a crime. It wasn't in his makeup. In a way, he wished he was capable of kidnapping someone, but he knew he could not.
"I-I know how you guys feel," Boyd said, nodding. "Believe me, I know. Just then, when you mentioned Vietnam, I remembered all the crazy things we dreamed about ... the goofy stuff we planned. But we're in civilization now. We don't believe we're gonna die anymore. It's a-a different ball game."
"You mean, it's a goddam dull ball game!" Knute snarled. "It's shitty, and I'm sick of it."
"I'm sick of it, too," Jeff said.
Boyd wondered why he had mentioned that his sister knew an oil heiress. If only he had kept his mouth shut.
"Here's what I suggest," Knute said. "I admit we've been drinking a lot, and I admit the idea's pretty far out, okay? But we can still have some fun without committing ourselves completely. Let's take this one stage at a time. Let's think of this as a game-you know, like shooting pool. Let's at least go down to the campus tomorrow and snoop around a little."
"Sure," Jeff said. "We're entitled to a day off. Exams aren't that important. Besides they're not till next week. There's plenty of time to cram."
"Jeff's right," Knute said, "and it'll be fun to get away from a state college campus and see how the other half lives."
Boyd had to smile. All his life he had lived in the Los Angeles area, but he had never really set foot on the USC campus. Now that he thought about it, that was pretty strange.
"So you go ahead and call your sister," Knute continued, "Be cool, but find out when and where we can at least inspect this wealthy chick. What's wrong with that, huh? like I said, it's a game. First, you discreetly get the info from your sis so she doesn't suspect anything, and then we discreetly observe her. Remember the games we used to play overseas? This will be like that. It'll be fun, and it'll be harmless."
"Yeah," Jeff said. "Go ahead and call your sis. It's about time we had some fun."
Boyd took a gulp of beer. "I guess I'm just as crazy as the two of you guys," he said, picking up the phone.
He dialed his home number and his father answered on the third ring. Knute and Jeff made impatient, frantic gestures as he chatted for a few minutes. Finally, he asked for his sister and a moment later her matter-of-fact voice sounded in his ear. Of all things, Tracy was at USC on a math scholarship.
"Hi, Tracy," Boyd said, "I'm calling because one of my ding-a-ling roomies wants to know about long division. He wonders why it isn't shorter-you know, like short division."
His sister was studying, and she didn't find the comment very amusing. Boyd made small talk with her for a while, and then endured her usual remarks about his lack of attention to Joanie Hildreth, who, of course, still lived next door to his folks and who, of course, was still desperately in love with Boyd. Tracy was younger than Boyd, but tended to treat him maternally.
More than anything, Tracy wanted him to escape his ne'er-do-well roommates and marry Joanie Hildreth at once. Joanie was a nice girl-a secretary now-and she had been waiting for Boyd to marry her all her life. Tracy couldn't understand why her brother saw Joanie on Saturday nights only. She couldn't seem to understand that taking Joanie Hildreth to the movies and screwing her on Saturday nights suited Boyd just fine. He did not want to get married yet.
Finally, Boyd got off the subject of Joanie Hildreth with: "Hey, what I need is a rich girl, sis. Why don't you introduce me to that
Janice Bambridge you were telling me about? No, I am not drunk. I just had a couple of beers."
Boyd signaled for a pencil as he talked. Jeff got one for him, and then Boyd doodled until he got the essential information. Finally, after chatting briefly with his mother, he hung up.
"I liked the way you handled that," Knute said. "I couldn't have done better myself. Pretty clever the way you wound up saying it was some other guy who wanted to meet Janice."
"True," Boyd said, winking, getting in the spirit of the "game" now himself.
"Hey, you really found out where she eats lunch, huh?"
"Yep, our oil heiress seems to like mingling with the common folk," Boyd said, glancing at the notes he had made. "She eats in this coffee shop almost every noon. It's about two blocks from the campus."
"Great!" Jeff said. "We'll just mosey on over there tomorrow and have lunch. I might even eat her box!"
"Not tomorrow you won't," Knute said, glancing at Boyd significantly. "We promised our moral and law-abiding roommate here that so far this is only a game, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Jeff said. "Sorry about that, Boyd. I guess I'll just play with her tits a little then."
Boyd stood up. "I'm gonna hit the sack," he said. "I'm beat: Good night."
"You are going to USC with us tomorrow, aren't you?" Knute asked.
Boyd took a deep breath. "Yes, I suppose so," he said. "After all, it's only a game. Yes, I'll go."
Upstairs in his room Boyd undressed hastily and climbed into bed. He lay there on his back and wondered why he had allowed himself to play even the beginning of this "game" with Jeff and Knute. He had a strong premonition that what they had begun would evolve to far more than merely a game.
He forced the thought from his mind and dwelled on his sister's description of Janice Bambridge. Tracy had described Janice as "sort of a young Grace Kelly ... tall, slim, aristocratic-looking." Boyd wondered if she had a Texas accent. Since her parents spent half their time in Dallas and half their time in Newport Beach, she just might speak like a Texan.
Boyd conjured up a picture of Janice in his mind and smiled as he watched her moving and talking in a bikini. Suddenly, as he had thought many times during the past few years, he wished that he could make love to a truly beautiful woman. Not just an attractive female, but a really beautiful girl. Gorgeous. Didn't every man have the right to fuck the girl of his dreams just once before he died? Just once?
He thought of Joanie Hildreth and their lovemaking together. Joanie was good-looking-no question about it-and he did feel comfortable with her. Hell, he would probably end up even marrying her someday just to keep his family happy. She was intelligent, good-looking, and their sex was good together. She had great orgasms, and he did too.
But what would it be like to make love to a wealthy, sophisticated beauty like Janice Bambridge? He would give anything to know. Yes, he would give almost anything.
He visualized Janice Bambridge walking gracefully, oozing sophistication on the outside but a sexual tigress on the inside. She wore her bikini still, and he was talking to her intimately in some quiet, secret place. He kissed her full lips, ran his hands searchingly over the warm contour of her inviting body. She sighed, breathing harder, and he slowly removed her halter and gazed upon her ripe, up-thrust breasts. The flesh was firm and incredibly smooth in his. lingering hands. He caressed Janice's breasts, kissed their hungry nipples until her purring voice became an urgent whisper begging for "more, more." Damn it! Why couldn't he get her voice right? Did Janice Bambridge have a Texas accent or not?
Boyd's erection was full now, and he decided Janice had just a hint of an accent as his hand reached down and took his pulsing stalk in his fist. She was lovely ... incredibly lovely ... lovelier than any female he had ever known. God, the way she was moving beneath him as he speared steadily into the hot-wet furnace of her aristocratic vagina! The legs that encircled him, the voice that breathed huskily in his ear ... he stroked his hard-on faster, harder, faster still, harder still ... and then it was over and there was only the hum-drum world of an ex-G.I. going to a state college. He didn't even really love the average-looking girl he was supposed to marry.
As he washed his hands in the bathroom, Boyd wondered how economics had managed to enter his masturbatory fantasy. It occurred to him that, 'way down deep, he was a would-be snob and a social climber. Was it true? He wasn't sure. He would have to investigate the matter further.
II
"I'm glad my sister isn't here," Boyd said, scanning the Burger Bowl coffee shop which was filled to capacity with students eating and chattering on their lunch hour. "The only trouble is, how do we know if Janice Bambridge is here?"
"I see a few good-looking blondes I wouldn't mind kidnapping, no matter who they are," Jeff said. "Hmmm, what would Sherlock Holmes do?"
"Fuck Sherlock Holmes,' Knute said. "We didn't need him when we were carrying rifles around, and we don't need him now."
"You're right, Knute," Jeff said. "I guess we should just walk right up and ask the blondes their names, right?"
"No. That would be too obvious, you dumb ass-hole," Knute said. "Her friends would get too close a look at us. After the actual kidnapping, they could describe us in detail."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, Knute," Jeff apologized. "But how're we gonna sight our target-uh-with certainty?"
"That's precisely what we're trying to decide," Knute said, running his big hand over his chin. He glanced at Boyd. "My guess is, Janice is the one in the corduroy jacket," he said. "What do you think?"
Boyd nodded, studying the girl carefully. She was strikingly beautiful, and his sister's description was correct if indeed the girl was Janice Bambridge. She did resemble Grace Kelly. She wore a maroon corduroy jacket, a white turtleneck blouse, dark blue, bell-bottom denims and she curved in all the right places. More important, she exuded an aura of "class," despite her casual dress. Her posture was perfect and her gestures restrained as she conversed with her classmates.
If the girl was not Janice Bambridge, Boyd hoped she was, because she bore a close resemblance to the female he had visualized while masturbating last night. He wondered if she spoke with a Texas accent. God, he would give anything to be with such a girl! She was everything that Joanie Hildreth was not. Not that
Joanie Hildreth wasn't attractive. She was. But this exquisite female Boyd now devoured with his eyes was a completely different kind of animal-poise, beauty, grace, class, everything.
I'm a snob, Boyd thought. I really am. I'm a class-conscious snob and always have been. It occurred to him then that this girl could be anything. She didn't even have to be a student ... she could be a waitress or a secretary someplace.
Impulsively, Boyd turned and addressed the group sitting in the next booth. "Excuse me," he said politely. "I'm looking for Janice Bam-bridge. Do you know her?"
A sullen-looking girl with dark rings under her eyes said, "Yeah, I know her. She's sitting right over there. Why?"
"No special reason," Boyd said. "I'm just a friend of a friend. You mean the one in the maroon jacket?"
"Yeah, that's her," the girl said. "Miss Ritzy Bitch. Tell her I think she's a privileged, phony cunt when you talk to her, okay?"
"Karl Marx's nephew should knock her up," the girl's boyfriend said.
"No, Lenin's brother-in-law should give her the clap," another student said.
They all giggled intellectually, superiorly.
"Uh-thanks," Boyd said, turning away.
"Jesus, that was uncool," Knute whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Now those mental giants'll be able to give a description of us. What the hell did you want to go and do that for"
"Well, at least we know she's the one. Maybe I was a trifle impetuous. Sorry."
"A trifle impetuous?" Knute said. "Now you're talking like those ass-holes in the next booth. Oh, come off Tit. You mean, you just weren't thinking, main."
"Pretty uncool," Jeff agreed.
"Okay, I'm sorry," Boyd said, staring at Janice Bambridge again. "I was wrong. Now let's drop it."
"Okay, you're forgiven," Knute said. "Now let's get out of here and plan the caper in detail."
"Caper?" Boyd said. "You're the one who sounds like Sherlock Holmes, not Jeff. What's the, rush? I haven't finished eating."
Knute put his hand up to his face as if hiding himself. "You don't seem to realize that every second we stay in here involves more and more risk. Witnesses, man! Everybody in this joint represents a witness."
Jeff leaned forward conspiratorially and spoke in a frantic whisper. "Knute's right, Boyd. Let's get the hell out of here and start planning."
Boyd could not take his eyes off Janice Bambridge. The thought that she could soon be his prisoner-a tied-up female he could do anything he pleased with-was becoming an obsession with him. He didn't want to leave yet.
"You're forgetting something," Boyd said, swallowing, still fantasizing as he feasted his eyes on the incredibly beautiful Janice Bam-bridge.
"What?" Knute said impatiently.
Boyd didn't know what to say. He had to think of something. "Well, you're forgetting that we should-uh-watch her when she leaves here." His excuse for remaining in the restaurant was clear now, and he managed to speak with confidence, authority. "Yeah, we have to know which direction she takes when she leaves here, don't we? I mean, sure, we know she'll head back for the campus. But which side of the street will she be on? The way I see this thing, we'll have to park on a certain side of the street and grab her as she walks by. We have to know the route she takes, how many friends are with her, that kind of thing."
Boyd paused, realizing what he had said. "What the hell am I talking about? I'm the one who's against this kidnapping."
Knute elbowed him in the ribs. "No, you're right about watching her leave," he said. "Go on. What else?"
"Yeah, we have to know the exact route she takes," Jeff said. "Go on!"
"Shut up!" Knute said. "Don't interrupt him. Let him develop the plan. Go on, Boyd. You're hot, so shoot!"
"Sorry," Jeff said.
"Well, it will in broad daylight, so I suppose we'll have to wear women's stockings over our faces ... and gloves ... rubber gloves because we'll have to use a hot-wired car instead of Knute's red van. The van would be too obvious. We'll have the van parked a few blocks away. We'll snatch her from the hotwired car, then transfer her to the van after our getaway. Then we can proceed on home at our leisure. She'll be tied up and gagged in the back of the van. I'll stay there with her while you two guys are up front."
"Sounds fine," Knute said.
"Perfect," Jeff said.
"Yes," Boyd agreed, "and with the gloves on they won't be able to trace us from fingerprints left on the hot-wired car." Boyd picked up the rest of his hamburger, took a bite and chewed thoughtfully as he stared at lovely Janice. Suddenly the whole thing seemed entirely within the realm of possibility. Yes, he would be alone with helpless Janice there in the back of the van. There would be days, even weeks, with Janice Bambridge his prisoner. He could kiss her, fondle her, do anything he pleased with this goddess when she was tied up.
"How're we gonna steal a car and who's gonna hot-wire it?" Jeff asked, excited.
"I will, dummy," Knute said. "It's a snap. We'll steal the car just a little while before lunch-just before we grab Janice."
"Good idea," Jeff said. "Shit, I didn't even know you knew how to hot-wire a car, Knute. Hell, we're highly skilled specialists! Boyd here is the planner, you're the hot-wire man and I'm-I guess I'm the lookout. Hell, we got it knocked, baby!"
Boyd could feel a fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach now as Janice and her two girl friends stood up and went to the cash register. God, she even walked like a queen! He finished the last of his burger and dabbed at his lips with the napkin.
"You gentlemen appreciate the importance of the stocking masks, I trust," he said. "I mean, if my sister should happen to be with Janice, the masks will be necessary. We can't have my sis recognizing me. It would blow the whole thing. For safety's sake, I should be sitting behind the wheel while you two make the actual snatch."
"Snatch!" Jeff said. "I like your choice of words." Jeff stared open-mouthed at Janice as she paid her check. "Wow! Look at the ass on her. All that money plus nice tits and a great ass; To hell with filling veterans' gas tanks. Let's just keep her around the house to look at."
"Look at?" Knute said, his eyes narrowed. "You mean fuck, man. How could you keep a fabulous chick like that around without fucking her?"
Janice was exiting the door with her two girl friends now. She threw her head back slightly in easy laughter at something her friend said. Boyd's heart beat faster. Somehow, mingled with his desire for this girl was a tremendous respect, a reverence. He knew now that their plan had advanced beyond mere game playing. That being the case, he knew some definite rules would have to be established. There could be no man-handling of this girl, he decided. No. That would be like molesting an angel.
"If we're serious about this thing," Boyd said, groping for the right words. He didn't want to sound stuffy, but he had to make his point clear. "I mean, if we really do kidnap Janice Bambridge, well-"
"Well, what?" Knute said.
"Yeah, what are you driving at?" Jeff echoed.
"And why do you say if?" Knute said. "As far as I'm concerned, it's settled. The thing that remains to decide is when."
"That's right," Jeff said. "It's settled as far as I'm concerned too."
"All right," Boyd said, nodding. "Okay, but I won't be a party to this if there's going to be any gang banging. This woman is a-a lady. We don't rape her and we don't ask for ransom money, either. We get the veterans' gas tanks filled for free and-and that's all."
"Bullshit," Knute said. "The real fun will be ballin' Miss Fancy Ass. Also, if we're going to this much trouble, why shouldn't we have a million dollars? You gotta be out of your head. We screw and we get rich. Why not?"
Knute's big hand shooshed Jeff before he could speak.
Boyd frowned, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he was being a hypocrite. He knew his real reason for wanting to take part in the plan was his sexual desire for Janice. But he couldn't admit this. Also, he would not share Janice with another man-especially Knute and Jeff. Suddenly an idea came to him.
"The reason is simple, gentlemen. Kidnapping is a serious crime, as I said last night, and how do you suppose kidnappers get caught? I'll tell you. They get caught trying to pick up the ransom money. You go to pick up the dough-no matter how tricky you get-and one way or another they nab you. They follow you by air, land, sea, electronic devices, whatever, but they get you. So we avoid going to jail forever by not asking for money."
Knute raised his bushy, blonde eyebrows. "I get your point," he said. "Good thinking. But we can decide on that later. I still want to screw her though."
"Me too," Jeff said, pretending to pant like a dog.
Boyd shook his head emphatically. "That's the part I'm most serious about," he said. "Look, once we let Janice go, we can't have her telling people-like the FBI.-that we screwed her. That's rape, man, and it's almost as bad as kidnapping as far as the penitentiary is concerned. Filling the veterans' gas tanks is one thing ... it's sort of amusing ... it's almost like-well, "streaking" or something. Hell, you could even get a little public sympathy for something like the gasoline part of this thing. But raping her and collecting ransom money is different. Nope. Count me out, if that's the case."
Jeff stared at Knute. "You mean, we can't kiss her or even feel her tits a little?"
Boyd didn't say anything, for at that instant he knew precisely why he was taking part in the kidnap plan. Yes. He would make this rich girl-this angel-fall in love with him, if possible. Then, she would do anything for him. She would even lie to save him. She would tell her family, everyone, that she had been a part of the plan from the beginning because she wanted her father's company, the Bamco Oil Company, to fill Vietnam veterans' gas tanks for free.
Therefore, there would be no kidnap charge at all, and Boyd would have the woman of his dreams. True, there would be a "conspiracy to commit a felony" rap to face, or some such charge, but,, as the man Janice Bambridge loved, Boyd doubted that he would end up in any permanent trouble. Not really. After all, the Bambridge family could certainly afford the best lawyers for their daughter's fianc'.
Boyd suddenly ran his wet palm over his face. God, I'm going absolutely insane! he thought. I'm a candidate for the funny farm. I'm getting in this plot up to my neck . ... I've already got myself marrying Janice Bambridge!
"What's the matter?" Knute said. "You look like you're about to freak out on us or something, man."
"Uh-nothing's the matter," Boyd said. "I was just waiting for your decision on the sexual aspect of this-uh-kidnapping."
Knute scowled, staring out the big window at Janice Bambridge walking with her two friends. They were already halfway up the block. He shook his head. "I don't see how you could deprive your army buddies of a piece of pussy like that," he said. "You must be a monk or something. You haven't changed, Boyd. You're still Mr. Nice Guy, aren'tcha?"
"Take it or leave it," Boyd said.
"Okay," Knute said. "It's agreed. No sex. But you better not let me catch you foolin' around with her either."
Boyd did not answer. He turned to Jeff. "Well?"
"I'm with Knute," Jeff said. Then, "Hey, let's follow Janice on foot and pick out the best spot for grabbing her tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Boyd said. "Don't be ridiculous. That's too soon. Besides we have our exams to think about. Did you forget them?"
"No, Jeff's right," Knute said. "She probably has exams coming up too, remember? Her whole pattern of activity might be different. We'll arrange make-up exams or something. The sooner we grab her the better. Come on, let's follow her before she gets out of sight."
III
Boyd sat nervously twitching behind the wheel of the bright yellow Ford that had been hot-wired by Knute just twenty minutes ago. He glanced at his wristwatch for perhaps the hundredth time in five minutes. It read 11:40, and, if their estimate of Janice Bambridge's arrival was correct, she and her friends would be passing directly alongside the stolen car in the next few minutes.
Visibly trembling, Boyd glanced at big Knute who seemed remarkably calm as he gazed out the window at Jeff standing on the corner. Jeff was the lookout, the key figure, and he was doing his best to look casual. He wore blue sneakers, Levi's and his khaki G.I. jacket. He was idly whistling.
"Look at that little bastard!" Boyd said, his voice strained. "He looks too casual. Does he have to stand with his hands in his pockets that way?"
"What do you want him to do?" Knute said. "Take his prick out and wave it around? Take it easy, man. There ain't no bullets whistlin' over our heads at least. I tell ya this'll be a breeze."
Boyd stared at the trees on the campus to his left. Their leaves fluttered in a gentle, spring breeze, but he was in no mood to appreciate the beautiful and clear afternoon. He knew he had to be insane to be taking part in this wild and risky crime, but he also knew that there was no turning back now. Or was there? Just because they now sat in a stolen car with stocking masks in their laps didn't mean they couldn't stop this madness before it was too late, did it, he asked himself.
"Let's call it off," he said. "It's too risky. Everything's wrong with the plan. Hell, we might as well rob a bank in broad daylight, what do you say, Knute? Let's use our heads and call it off. It isn't like we were under orders now. We don't have to attack. We're the generals now. All we have to do is call Jeff over, drive back to the van and go home."
"Don't go chickenshit on us," Knute said, pulling his rubber gloves up higher on his wrists. "It's a beautiful plan and we're going to carry it out. Now just relax and dummy up, man. Stay cool."
Boyd ran his own gloved hand over his face. The plan was not a beautiful plan, he thought. It was bold, and it was crude and unnecessarily risky. First, they were sitting parked on a fairly heavily trafficked side street in a stolen car. A cop could spot the license plate at any moment. Second, they were in broad daylight. Why hadn't they taken their time and planned to grab Janice after dark in a more secluded place? Finally, there was no guarantee that passersby would not interfere as they pulled Janice into the car. In fact, if Janice's girl friends-Boyd's sister among them-put up a fight, they could be thwarted at the very beginning.
Please, God, Boyd thought, don't let my sister be with Janice today!
"I want out!" Boyd said suddenly, reaching for the door handle. "I can't go through with it!"
Knute's gloved hand came up fast and slapped him hard across the face. "Shut up!" Knute hissed. "You got prebattle jitters ... that's all. Here comes Jeff now."
Jeff bent down and leaned inside the window. "She's almost here," he said excitedly. "There's only one girl with her and it isn't your sister, Boyd. Get your masks ready. Shit, do I have to wear my mask, Knute? Why can't
I just keep it in my pocket? I mean, this isn't Halloween, for chrisake. It's only gonna attract attention."
Knute nodded. "You're right," he said. "Okay, we forget about the masks. If Boyd's sis ain't there, we don't need 'em. Get back in position."
Jeff winked. "Right, chief."
"This is sheer insanity," Boyd said. "We'll all go to jail."
"Be quiet," Knute said. "It'll work, I tell ya."
Boyd nodded in resignation. Unfortunately, Knute was probably right, he decided at last. Without the masks and without the presence of his sister, the odds were better. As Janice Bambridge rounded the corner and drew alongside the car, Jeff would come at Janice like a football guard on a "trap" assignment, from the far side, and then she would be in the car and they would be speeding off toward the van, one-half mile away. Yes, as long as no unexpected intruders interfered, everything should be all right.
Jeff gave the signal that Janice was rounding the corner now, and Knute opened the door slightly. "This is it, man," Knute commanded. "Start the car."
Boyd obeyed and sat waiting.
There she was-lovely, unsuspecting, walking leisurely and chatting with her schoolmate. Boyd's heart slammed crazily inside his chest as she drew closer, closer...
Jeff sprang then, circling Janice about the waist without even breaking his stride. Knute flung open the door, then the seat, to make room for the two of them in back. Janice was so stunned she didn't make a sound. There was a look of shock and horror on her face though as she neared the car, her books and papers making a trail from her girlfriend who began screaming with her hands at her face.
Up ahead, Boyd saw a group of students stop, but none of them threatened to interfere. Traffic seemed to be proceeding normally too-at least so far.
"Please . . don't ... you're hurting me," Janice protested as Jeff flung her into the backseat and climbed in after her. Knute jumped in and slammed the door. "Go, man!" he yelled. "Hit it! Let's get outta here!"
Boyd burned rubber as he pulled away from the curb. He kept the accelerator on the floor until he came to the first corner. Then he slowed, took the corner at a moderate speed and glanced in the rear-view mirror. Jfo trouble so far, but he couldn't be sure yet.
"W-what is this?" Janice Bambridge asked. She sounded fairly angry, but not terrified. Boyd relaxed somewhat, pleased by her purring, slightly accented voice. Yes, she did have a Texas accent-not pronounced, but it was there, all right. "Where are you taking me? Is this s-some kind of joke? I-I don't appredate this. I want to get out this instant. Mmy books and everything are back there on the street! Let me out of this car!"
Now that the initial shock had passed, Janice had become genuinely angry. Her voice was harsh now and tinged with fear. "Are you students? I demand to know. What is going on? I'm going to-to scream in a second!"
"This is just a little joker" Knute lied. "Your friends all know about it. You'll see in a few minutes. Just relax and we'll have you in class soon."
"Yeah, half the student body's in on this gag," Jeff said. "Just relax. You're going to get a big kick out of this."
Knute's and Jeff's remarks seemed to calm Janice and Boyd was relieved. He felt grateful that they were not driving with a screaming, clawing female on their hands. It was good, too, that they didn't have to tie her up and gag her till they got to the van. Hell, if things proceeded this well, they might not have to tie her up at all.
The van was just a few blocks away now-parked on a quiet residential street where there would be little risk making the transfer. It suddenly dawned on Boyd that most of their preparation had been unnecessary, even ridiculous. They were amateur kidnappers ... that was for sure. Hell, when they got Janice to the van, he would be in the back with her, so there would be no need to tie and gag her. Of course.
The rope had been completely unnecessary.
The van was just ahead now, parked in front of a vacant lot in the shade. Perfect, Boyd thought, wondering why he had been so fearful. Soon he would be alone with Janice on the mattress in the back of the van. He felt a tingling sensation surging through his groin. Soon he would explain everything to Janice, calmly and rationally. There would be no hysteria on her part and the way would be open for her to begin loving him. He would feel much better, once they had abandoned this stolen car and were speeding away in the van.
Boyd braked to a halt behind the van now, set the emergency and killed the engine.
"We'll go back and pick up your books and things," Knute lied easily. "We're sorry about strewing them all over. That wasn't part of the gag, Janice. We're truly sorry about that part of this little venture. Honest. I mean-uh-Gamma Delpha Phi usually prides itself on carrying out its missions a bit more considerately. Now we're going for a little ride in the van and then the entire escapade will be over. We appreciate your cooperation in this, Janice."
Boyd was impressed with Knute's smooth and masterful job of lying, dreaming up that phony fraternity name.
"It will be necessary for us to tie you up, Janice, for just a short time. We'll appreciate your cooperation."
'Tie me up?" Janice's lovely face was full of confusion, Boyd could tell that Knute's clouding of the issue had her temporarily dumbfounded, completely at a loss for words. Yes, she wasn't going to resist violently or attempt to scream. At least, not yet!
"Are you certain it is absolutely necessary to tie me up?" she asked with irritation.
"Yes, that is part of the stunt we've planned," Knute explained casually. "The entire affair will become clear to you in a matter of minutes. You're going to like the outcome of this, Janice. You're going to love it. Really."
"Yeah, it's just all good fun," Jeff added, adopting Knute's tour-guide manner.
"Very well then," Janice said, "Let's get this stupid business over with as soon as possible. I have a class, you know."
The whole thing was beginning to sound so "civilized" that Boyd had to smile.
The four of them exited the stolen Ford and stood at the rear of the van. "Go on up front, Jeff," Knute said. "Boyd and I will tie Miss Bambridge up-uh-loosely, of course-just for effect. After you, my lady," he said, gesturing for Janice to enter the van. He smiled amiably.
Janice stared briefly at Knute, then at Boyd. She sighed. "My God!" she said, shaking her head. "I thought this college was more mature than this. I thought all this kid stuff went out with junior high school." She climbed onto the mattress then, crawling forward on hands and knees.
Boyd grabbed Knute's shoulder. "Why tie her up?" he whispered. "Hell, I can control her."
"We can't be certain you can," Knute said. "There's that damn plywood partition behind the front seat. If she starts screaming and freaking out when she realizes this isn't just a gag, she could give you a bad time. Jeff and I wouldn't be able to help you. It could blow the whole thing."
"Yeah, I see what you mean," Boyd said. "You always did think clear in a crisis. Good work, man. Okay, let's tie her up. Nice and tight though."
"Right," Knute winked.
They crawled in the van then, one on each side of Janice, they tied her wrists securely behind her back. They used the torn strips of toweling like experts, twisting them and using them doubly so that they were tight but would not hurt the girl's wrists or mouth. As soon as the task was finished, Janice realized that she was not bound "Loosely" at all. Anger showed in her eyes as she mumbled unintelligibly from behind the gag.
"Now the lovely lady's ankles," Knute said.
"Never mind," Boyd said. "I can handle her easily now. We're running out of time." Boyd did not want to admit even to himself why he wanted Janice's ankles free.
"Whatever you say, man," Knute said. "She's all yours now. Careful she doesn't kick you in the nuts though."
"Don't worry."
"I'm gonna be drivin' nice and easy ... a real law-abidin' citizen," Knute said.
"Right," Boyd said. "No use in taking any risks. like, we don't need a ticket. Go on now. Let's haul ass."
Knute crawled to the rear, closed the back door. A moment later, Boyd heard the front door close and then they were on their way. Immediately, Janice struck Boyd hard in the thigh with her knee. She had apparently guessed the deception now, but it was too late. Boyd feasted his eyes on her shiny blonde hair, her natural, unplucked eyebrows, her heaving and full firm breasts, the curve of her perfect, firm buttocks. He clamped her legs between his, to keep her from kneeing him, as he removed his rubber gloves, then glanced at the plywood that separated them from Knute and Jeff. There was not even a peep hole in the partition. Knute relied totally on twin rear-view mirrors mounted on either side of the van. Why the previous owner had built such a partition, Boyd did not know. He was only glad that Knute hadn't gotten around to removing the partition yet.
Janice was beginning to thrash more violently now, her muffled voice demanding as she shook her head and attempted to communicate with her eyebrows. To protect himself Boyd turned her so that she faced the side of the van and snuggled up behind her. Now she could not kick or knee him.
He put his arms around her, lovingly, cuddling closer, and then he planted a gentle kiss on her smooth neck. She tried to yell, really muttering in a higher pitch now through her gag as she thrashed about and tried to gouge with her fingernails at Boyd's abdomen.
Boyd raised her bound hands higher so that they were near his hip and could not clutch his testicles. His organ had begin to rise and he pressed it slightly into her buttocks.
"Relax, Janice," Boyd said, overwhelmed with a sudden flood of love, lust, compassion, he knew not what else. "Please don't fight, Janice. If you stay calm, I'll explain everything io you and you won't be afraid. Will you do that?"
Janice emitted a lower-pitched sound through her gag, ceased her writhing and nodded her head in the affirmative.
"Good girl," Boyd said, speaking directly into her lovely ear.
He was glad that she was wearing a dress today. The short lightweight dress-white with flowers on it-that hit her high on the thigh delighted him. It revealed her long, nicely tapered legs and dimpled knees and, he hoped, in just a very few minutes would enable him to reach easily up between those lovely legs and stroke her pussy and stomach and explore and touch any place he pleased. God, it was marvelous having a truly beautiful female for a helpless captive for the first time in his life!
Soon he would speak whisperingly and lovingly in her cologne-scented ear as he played with her breasts and cunt. He would speak to her of love, of how indescribably beautiful she was, of how he had yearned for her from the first instant he had laid eyes on her in the coffee shop. He would attempt to speak from the very depths of himself, from the heart-no, from his testicles!-and try to make her understand his desperate need for her. He had always wondered just what the hell it was that lovers sprawling on the beach or on park lawns, or wherever, spoke to each other about, and now he was about to find out.
His intention was to abandon the inhibitions of a lifetime with this female of sophistication, poise, unparalleled beauty. He could do anything he wanted to her; he could even rape her (lovingly, of course) if he so desired. She was his ... all his. The van proceeded at a moderate speed and he would have her all to himself for maybe thirty minutes ... all his ... she was not some Vietnamese whore ... she was a blonde angel, and she was all his to do with as he pleased . ...
Boyd hiked her dress up so that it was gathered about her waist. He gazed down and the sight of her near transparent white bikini panties revealing the cleft of her ass, and the smooth cheeks of her rounded ass took his breath away. She's tied up and she's all mine, he thought. She's my helpless captive.
She began emitting sounds again through her gag, obviously wondering impatiently why her captor had not yet begun the explanation he had promised and had instead pulled up her dress.
"I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, Janice. Everything I tell you is going to be the truth. So there's no need to fight me, and there's no need to panic, all right?"
She nodded, trying to say yes at the same time. Her nod was very impatient now.
"You've been kidnapped, Janice. My two roommates and I have kidnapped you. But I promise you, personally, that no one is going to hurt you. In a way, this is all sort of a monstrous prank. We're veterans from Vietnam, Janice, and what we're going to do is demand that your father's oil company fill up the gas tanks of Vietnam veterans free, in order to get you back. See? Isn't that fairly innocent? It's an inconvenience, I know, but that's the story. We're going to send a note to your dad tomorrow, informing him of our demand along with a tape recording of your voice, so he'll know we have you, right? So far, what do you think of the idea?"
Janice made what sounded like the moo of a Texas longhorn. Her communication told Boyd nothing at all except that she was listening.
"Good," Boyd said, "I'm glad you approve. No, seriously, I wouldn't like to be kidnapped myself, so I can understand your anger. Now then-as I see this situation, all you have to be afraid of is getting hurt. Well, that's where I come in. My name is Boyd. Please think of me as your protector and-well, your genial host." Boyd paused, hoping she had caught the humor, but she made no sound.
"Very well," Boyd said, "I'll drop the humor. It is in bad taste, I suppose. Yes, from your point of view, I can see it definitely is. Unquestionably."
Janice Bambridge mooed again. There was a hint of rage.
"Easy, girl," Boyd said. "Yes, I know how you must feel. Let's see, where was I? Oh, yes. I said I am your protector, and that is pure truth. You see, my two roommates would not only like to get free gas for veterans, they would like very much to rape you and demand a million dollars ransom from your dad. That's where I come in. I told them I wouldn't have any part of rape or ransom money. I told them I would allow them to kidnap you only for the free gas, and that's it. Is the whole thing becoming clear to you now? Do you see that if I hadn't talked them out of the rape and ransom money that you would be in real trouble, instead of just a guest at our house for maybe a couple of weeks? Answer, will you?"
Janice nodded, mooing almost inaudibly.
"So there you have it," Boyd said. "Now comes the really kinky part of all this. While it is true that I talked them out of molesting you physically, I plan to fool around with you myself. But you won't be able to tell them I'm fooling around with you, because, if you do, then they'll rape you. I'm serious about this, Janice. They really would rape you. Your only chance is to say absolutely nothing about the secret little relationship I have in mind for us. It's going to be just you and me and you might as well accept it because there's nothing you can do about it, unless you want to get raped by my friends. Got that?"
Janice didn't move and she didn't moo. Nothing.
"I wouldn't test the validity of what I'm saying, Janice. It would be like-well, throwing yourself to the wolves. I am your only chance and I hope you don't decide to dispute this fact. Because if you do, you'll be sorry. Oh, they're not crazed perverts or anything like that, but we are Vietnam vets who've been around a bit, and we just don't give a damn about a lot of things other people hold dear. I'm sorry, Janice ... I didn't think up this kidnapping ... but here we are ... I mean, that's the scene. Sure your individual rights are being violated, but probably the best thing for you to do is cooperate for now. The three of us are college students, not absolute matimen and, honest, there isn't any danger to your life. That's the truth. Understand?"
Janice's moo might as well have been a moan.
"Yes, I know," Boyd said, kissing Janice's neck again, "I certainly wouldn't wish this situation on my own sister or my daughter, but then that's life." He paused, gathering his thoughts as he admired' Janice Bambridge's panty-clad ass. He resisted the urge to pat her ass or reach over and give her breasts a squeeze. That would come soon enough. Further preparation of the captive was necessary, he decided.
"Let me make this situation absolutely crystal clear," he said, chuckling and trying to put Janice at ease. He waited, but there was no response. "As I see it, here is your number one problem. You're going to have to let me fondle you, do even more than that if you'll let me, and you can't say a word about it! This may be difficult, but you've got to manage it somehow, Janice. The alternative is getting gang banged! I know I am being repetitious, but I cannot stress the importance of this fact strongly enough! So you see, you might as well just relax and try to enjoy yourself as I take my very sensitive, highly civilized pleasure with your delicious body. That's your problem in a nutshell, and I am confident you'll be able to bring it off. Hell, I don't want to see you raped. Won't you please cooperate?"
Boyd nibbled at her ear. "Moooahhh," she said quietly, pulling away slightly.
Boyd felt his heart beating faster. She had not resisted him violently, she had merely indicated disapproval ... perhaps with just a trace of acceptance.
"May I ask if you're a virgin, Janice? I realize that's a pretty personal question, but are you?"
No response.
"It's to your advantage to tell me, Janice. It could effect the way I-uh-proceed with you."
Janice didn't move or make a sound.
"Look, I told you I'm not going to hurt you. Won't you just nod if you are a virgin?"
Janice didn't do anything.
"I don't know why I'm being so damned considerate with you, Janice' Bambridge. Hell, I should be able to tell-even if I haven't ever made it with any virgins. You don't have to be embarrassed if you are a virgin," Boyd tried. "Hell, some girls are virgins at your age nowadays. You can tell me if you are. Well, are you?"
Slowly, Janice Bambridge shook her head.
"I see," Boyd said. "That's fine. I mean, most girls aren't virgins at your age, so that's perfectly normal. I'm glad we've begun to establish some communication." He began rubbing her dimpled knee, inching his hand slowly back and forth over her smooth leg. "We're going to become good friends," Boyd said. "I just know it. Over the next few weeks we're going to spend a lot of time together alone. I'm going to tell you all the things I've ever thought about females, and you can tell me about men from your point of view. Don't you see? This is going to be a real education for both of us. Not only will we learn the truth about the inner feelings of the opposite sex, but we'll also learn about how the upper class feels about the lower class and vice versa. Ohhh, Janice, you're something else ... you really are ... you're the most beautiful and-uh-enchanting female I ever saw, much less actually touched this way."
Boyd reached over now and let his hand rest on her stomach. He massaged very lightly, gradually working his way up to her breasts. As he went on telling her how beautiful she was, how much he desperately needed and wanted her, he was certain that he saw her breath come faster.
Excited at the thought that she might be responding to his touch, he even reached back and palmed, very lightly, the cheeks of ass. She did not attempt to move away, and so he boldly returned to her front side and began gently fondling her breasts.
"There ... you see?" he purred. "It isn't so bad after all, is it? I'm not some crude animal. I'm just a poor young man who has always dreamed of touching a girl like you. You're on a pedestal, Janice. You may never be on such a high pedestal the rest of your life. So why not relax and enjoy it? Yes ... good ... perfect ... ummmm. God, are you a prize a man would die for. Jesus, what beautiful tits you have!"
IV
It had been some time now since the van had stopped and started, then stopped and started again for the traffic signals of the city streets, so Boyd knew that they were still driving the freeway from downtown Los Angeles to Hollywood. He estimated that he had approximately fifteen minutes more of this introductory sex session with the luscious and, for the time being, miraculously cooperative Janice Bambridge.
It occurred to him, as he held her breasts in his eager, squeezing hands, that he was a superb salesman, for he had convinced her that she had no choice in the matter, which was the truth. What she would do once they reached their destination and her gag was removed, he did not know. Perhaps she would scream her head off and attack him, once her hands were untied. But he wasn't going to worry about that-not now with her lying still, breathing hard and letting him fondle and tease her nipples through her clothing.
She wore a bra, and his plan was to remove it in a minute, then attempt to nurse on the erect nipples while he played with her pussy. Attempt? Hell, what was there to stop him? All he had to watch out for, once he turned her to face him, would be her knees and feet. He didn't anticipate any difficulty, however, because she seemed to be enjoying herself. She certainly was breathing hard . ...
"This is heaven for me, Janice," Boyd said, very close to her ear. "It really is. I wish you weren't tied up ... I wish this was of your own free will." He kissed her ear, letting his tongue dart lightly inside. "Maybe you'll let me do this when you're untied, too. I've arranged with my roommates for you to sleep in my room. Do you believe that? Huh? I actually convinced them you must be in my room to keep you from them! But we know different now, don't we? Yes, there's a spare mattress on the floor by my bed for you to sleep on, but if you want-if you'll permit-we can make love this way every night. What do you think?"
Janice didn't move or make, a sound.
"Sorry," Boyd said. "I keep forgetting you can't speak. Oh, if only you could speak and move and you were this way with me because you wanted to be!"
Boyd reached down, unbuttoned the front of his Levi's and let his full erection flop free. He raised Janice's leg, placing his hot hard-on between her legs so that it protruded out the other side. Still, snuggling up close against her buttocks, he let his hand drop from her breasts to her mound and felt the head of his own dribbling organ. He began thrusting slightly, mak-contact with her vagina through her panties. He wished her hands were not bound and between them; it made total contact impossible. Still the thought and the feel of his prick against this beautiful girl's cunt had him trembling all over.
"Oh, Janice!" he said softly. "Don't hate me for this. If you knew how much I worship you, you'd understand. Oh, God! See? I told you I wouldn't rape you, didn't I ? I'm not even putting it inside you. I'd like to, but I-I promised to respect you. God, it's a temptation though, but I-I promised, so I won't. Maybe when we're in my room at night though, and the door is locked-that's another reason you'll be staying in my room; it's the only room in the house with a lock except for the front and back door-yes, maybe, when we're alone in my room, you'll learn to like fucking with me. It-it's up to you, Janice."
Boyd fumbled with the clasp of Janice Barn-bridge's bra, released it despite the awkwardness, because of her hands tied behind her, and then he was fondling bare titties. He rolled the nipples gently between his thumbs and forefingers, , massaging her entire breasts at the same time with the heels of his hands as he continued to thrust his cock between h.er legs from the rear. It took all the willpower he could muster to keep from parting her panties with his hand and easing his prick up inside this delectable angel's cunt.
He wondered if, by some miracle, she might want him to fuck her. She was aroused, after all, and she was human. What the hell ... he knew she was hot enough ... could she maybe want him to fuck her?
He bit her neck very gently, then licked from her neck to her earlobe and bit her there, too. "Feel good?" he asked. She didn't nod or make a sound, but her breath was coming faster than ever. He worked still more methodically on her breasts, assessing their weight and contour in his palms as he continued to rub their entirety and at the same time give special attention to the expanded and taut, upright nipples. Did she moan, or was it his imagination? He squeezed her tits more firmly and thrust with his prick a bit harder, trying to make contact with her clit.
In this position, he could not make his prick head strike her clit, so he reached down with his hand and rubbed her silky bush for a minute before he let his finger make contact with her clitoris. She did moan then; he was certain of it! He stepped up the tempo of his cockthrusts now and he was manipulating her cunt and both of her tits with his hands at the same time.
"M-maybe you'd like me to-to put my prick inside you, Janice," he offered. "I mean, it wouldn't be r-rape or anything if you said-I mean nodded-that you'd like it there, would it? Really, who would blame you, right? Hell, I'm rubbing you all over and it just stands to r-reason that you m-might like to fuck now."
Boyd stuck his tongue into her ear, withdrew it and blew gently. "It would be only h-human for you to give in at a time like this. You'd be b-blameless. You're even t-tied up. What d-do you say, Janice? Why don't I just s-sort of accidentally-like l-let it s-slip right up inside there and then w-we'll both be h-happy?"
To his extreme disappointment, Janice shook her head, indicating a negative reply. Boyd knew at that instant that he would never understand the true nature of the human female. How she could be breathing that hard, moaning in fact, listening to him. babble and plea in the stuttering manner of Porky Pig, and still deny both of them the pleasure that their bodies craved was beyond his comprehension! This was indeed a girl of remarkable willpower, breeding, determination! Although, quite possibly, she was without her contraceptive device or had remembered that she had forgotten to take her pill. Yes, possibly that was her reason for not nodding in the affirmative.
For an instant, Boyd nearly decided to go ahead and fuck her anyway. But that would be against his long-range goal of trying to make her fall in love with him. No, he decided, he would not sacrifice his chances of establishing a good and steady sexual relationship by insisting on banging Janice Bambridge against her will here in the back of some van. Still, there were other exciting things he could do to her, he thought. Yes, he would turn her so that she faced him ... he would suck on her nipples and make her come with his finger. He would give her a sample of what it could be like for them, once she let down the barrier and let him please her totally.
Possibly he would even make her come with his tongue. Why not? He wanted to do everything possible to her and, at the same time, convince her that he would not hurt her. Then, afterwards, after she had come and he had masturbated too, he would delve even deeper into his innermost thoughts and attempt to express the impossible to her. Once she understood the real Boyd Keller, she would be able to give of herself freely to him each night up in his room. Their naked bodies would writhe together willingly and they would come to know a love and true communication that few mortals had ever experienced.
The van swerved suddenly, and there was the sound of car horns honking. Then they were speeding evenly again. Boyd turned Janice so that she faced him, slid down and began teasing her breasts tips with his tongue. After several minutes of this, he lifted her leg and placed his hard-on between her legs-this time from the front-so that his cockhead made contact with her clitoris. He still made no attempt to remove her panties as he nursed on her nipples, fondling her globes with one hand and clutching at her firm ass with his other hand as he thrust his prick at her clit. "Janice ... Jesus ... ohhhh, Janice!" he moaned.
He was going insane with desire now, and he knew he could not keep from coming forever. Still, he promised himself that he would make her come before he reached his own orgasm. "Do you like it?" he asked.
Janice made no sound; she just continued breathing hard, her chest heaving and her eyelids fluttering with each thrust of his hips. He knew he wasn't hurting her; she had to be experiencing pleasure. He sucked harder on her nipples now, drawing each nipple alternately deep into his mouth and swirling his tongue about them. And then, for the first time, he felt her pelvis move to meet his own. It was just a slight movement, but it was definitely a sexual response!
Boyd ceased his sucking on her nipples. Still kneading them steadily in his hands, he scooted up, kissed Janice's warm cheek lovingly. Softly, as convincingly as possible, he said, "Janice, you have no idea what it is like for me to watch my prick sliding and stabbing against your beautiful pussy. I'm going out of my head playing with your titties this way and rubbing my cock against your little love nub. Look, I know this is difficult for you-I mean, trying to hold back your natural feelings in this kind of rape situation, but I felt you shove yourself against me, so I know all this is getting to you, right?"
Janice didn't move or make a sound except for her heavy breathing and an almost undetectable twitching of her cheek.
"I guess I'm a real loud mouth, aren't I? Probably I should just go ahead and kiss between your legs and then go ahead and fuck you instead of indulging in all this babbling. I really want to eat you, Janice ... suck your pussy."
Boyd began rotating his hips slightly now as he steadily speared at Janice's panty-covered pussy. He wanted to stimulate her clitoris in every way possible and provide her with the maximum pleasure. Once again, he was certain he felt a little involuntary hip thrust against his prick.
"There!" he said. "I felt you shove yourself against me, Janice! You can't deceive me. It does feel good, doesn't it? It's driving you out of your head just the way it's doing to me!"
Boyd took one hand from her heaving bosom now and reached behind her and began pulling her ass to him steadily, rhythmically. "Go ahead," he said. "Let yourself go, Janice. Fuck me, too ... just a little, huh? Go on and rub your pussy against the head of my cock. What can you lose? Hell, it isn't as if you'd be a bad person or anything. Go ahead." He rubbed his hand circularly over her firm ass and went on tugging her to him. "I know you're a very respectable girl, and I know you must view this kidnapping with horror, but right now you have my prick against your cunt and nobody-nobody in the whole world-would blame you if you just moved that beautiful little bottom of yours just a teensy, teensy bit. H-hell, I-I'd even respect you more, Janice. Honest!"
Boyd knew he was being very, very juvenile-the way he had been at age sixteen when he had first fucked Joanie Hildreth in her backyard swing that summer evening when her parents were away-but he couldn't help himself. He knew he was also being very much the eon man, but he forgave himself because he imagined that all males became very adept con men in similar situations.
Yes, it was the nature of the beast, all right, and another nature of the beast was to rationalize and tell himself that it was all right to go ahead and suck and fuck her against her will because he knew what was best for Janice Bambridge and, further, that Janice Bambridge desperately wanted to be sucked and fucked despite the fact that she was not overtly indicating that she wanted to be sucked and fucked (that was the way a girl he had once known named Georgina Faulkner had been; she had loved to get fucked while pretending she did not wish to get fucked, but, boy, had she loved fucking while protesting), because that's the way some females were.
Boyd decided to trick Janice then, and the trick worked! He ceased pulling rhythmically at her ass abruptly and she went ahead and drove her hips at his prick a few times before she realized her mistake.
"Aha!" he said. "See? Even angels like to fuck, don't they? I caught you-you little devil, didn't I? Well, now I'm going to make it better for both of us."
Boyd parted Janice's panties at the crotch, exposing her pussy, and placed his pulsing prickhead against her bare clit. Then he dipped his finger into her channel a little, to gather lubricant, and rubbed her love nub to make it juicier. "Therrrre," he gasped, "that's much nicer, huh?" he asked, jerking himself off slowly while he wagged his cock back and forth against her sensitive nerve center.
Janice did not nod, but she began shuddering all over, and now her hips began moving steadily against him.
"I love you," Boyd said. "Ohhh, Janice, this is too beautiful for words. Yes, go ahead and fuck me ... fuck ... fuck ... let's fuck to-getherr-beautiful ... Oh, yeah...."
Boyd lifted her leg up onto his hip, to give himself greater access to her gushing furnace and slid his finger up into her channel as his prick stabbed steadily at her clit. Janice's moaning grew unmistakable now. She was groaning with pleasure from behind her gag and she was thrusting her hips as he fingered her cunt, speared against her clitoris, groped her breasts and spoke soothingly and encouragingly in her ear.
He told her again that he had worshipped her since first setting eyes on her, and he told her that he had masturbated while visualizing them making love together. "So you see, this is really the second time I've made love to you, Janice. We're semi-veterans at this now."
Janice moved the upper half of her body now too. As she drove her cunt at Boyd's prick, she began writhing and moving her chest so that her breasts made harsher contact with his hands. Her head began tossing from side to side and her muffled groans came in short, stacatto-like bursts. Boyd bit her jugular vein lightly, then nibbling, moved his mouth over the satin-smooth texture of her face.
He was licking her eyelid when suddenly she raised her chin and tried to press her mouth against his own! Boyd did not want to remove her gag ... he wanted to rip off the gag, but he feared she might scream once their lovemaking was over. And then, suddenly, he did not care about anything but Janice's body thumping against his own. He wanted to touch and taste all of her. He tugged at the gag, removing it, and pressed his own mouth against her open, full lips. She gulped at his mouth hungrily and their tongues played desperate darting, swirling games as the tempo of their bodies increased.
Janice was emitting little squealing grunts now. She did not utter words. It was as though she could not force herself to admit her total surrender. But she worked her shuddering body with abandon against his and continued the tonguing game with a terrible urgency.
Boyd did not want to come yet. He knew he was risking Janice's screaming out and alerting Knute and Jeff to what was happening, but he decided to kiss her pussy for a while before bringing her to an orgasm. He did not want to cease the delicious friction of his prick against her gushing cunt, but he had to break away now if he was to avoid climaxing prematurely.
"Don't cry out!" he begged. "I-I'm going to kiss your pussy, Janice, but don't make too much noise or there'll be trouble for both of us. I-I don't want you to come yet. I-I'm just g-going to bring you to the b-brink and-and then I'm going to f-fuck you. I know I'm breaking my pr-promise, but I-I can't help it."
Boyd began his descent, licking her nipples briefly as he went. Then he tongued her heaving stomach, rimming her navel for a moment before he began nuzzling her fragrant pubic mound. The texture of her pubic hair was silken and he nibbled at it and rubbed his cheek briefly before he dipped his tongue into the top of her love slot and teased her expanded clitoris.
"Aahhhooohhh," Janice wailed softly at the instant Boyd's tongue found its mark.
"Shhhh!" Boyd hissed, reaching up and clamping his hand over her mouth. "Don't, Janice ! If they hear us, I told you what would happen. Th-this has to b-be a-a secret!"
He removed his hand and Janice did not utter a sound. Instead she bit her lower lip as she tossed her head from side to side, her eyelids tightly pressed together. If her tied hands beneath her trembling body hurt her, she did not show it. She spread her legs wide apart and thrust eagerly, waiting for his tongue to return to her cunt.
Boyd stared at the ecstatic look on her lovely face for a moment, then feasted his eyes on the pink vertical slit and the sopping-wet blonde fur guarding her love chamber. He put one hand beneath her quivering buttocks and the other hand atop her moUnd, then began kissing the treasure of her beckoning vagina and moaning as he inhaled and let his tongue flick hungrily.
Instantly, Janice placed her heels up on his back and began wagging her hips from side to side as she mewed with restraint. Boyd drank from the gushing pussy, oblivious to the occasional lurching of the van as it made its way along the freeway. He lapped hungrily, like an animal, for several minutes, then he concentrated solely on the sensitive clit-right where he knew Janice wanted it. Her gasps of pleasure became desperate as she pumped to meet his darting tongue that bathed and cleansed and swirled about the tiny love nub.
"God ... Ohhhh, please!" Boyd heard her cry out above the sound of the engine. It was as if she were experiencing guilt and almost unbearable delight simultaneously. Again, Boyd clamped his hand over her mouth and cautioned her against making loud sounds. She ceased her moaning and licked and bit his palm.
Hopeful that she would not cry out again, Boyd withdrew his hand and lifted her buttocks with both hands, making a pedestal of her genitals as he tongued her cunt top. She removed her feet from his back and planted them on either side of him for leverage so that she could pump harder at his mouth.
"Now ... Oh ... oh ... now ... oh ... now ... ahh ... ohh," she grunted quietly, her mouth opening and closing as it seemed to bite the air.
And then he knew she was about to come. He raised himself quickly, his face drenched with her lubricant, grasped his pole and pressed it firmly against her seething vagina. The hindrance of her panties had plagued them both long enough! He grabbed them by the elastic band and pulled them quickly down over her knees, then over her ankles and cast them aside.
"I-I have to fuck you, Janice ... sorry but I have to-to f-fuck you!"
She lay there spasming and twitching, neither protesting nor saying yes, but he could tell that she was his to do with as he pleased. He hoped-prayed-that she would not be foolish enough to tell Jeff and Knute what had occurred when they reached the house, but at this moment he did not care. He hovered over her parted legs, staring directly into her deep blue eyes that were now glazed with desire and began easing his pulsing hard-on into the heat of her.
Despite its slipperiness, Janice's vagina was nice and tight. Boyd fed her a little of his rod at a time, enjoying the look on her face until it was halfway in. Then, overcome by the thought that he was actually fucking Janice Bambridge-Janice Bambridge who now desperately wanted to be fucked by lowly Boyd Keller-Boyd imbedded himself to the hilt with one slick stroke.
The heat of her was amazing, and he lay still for a moment, shuddering all over, while he adjusted to the miracle of his penetrating this goddess of a female. Finally, he began a steady, rocking rhythm, filling her hot-wet furnace and grinding his pelvis against hers as he held her ass with one hand and her chin with the other. She offered no resistance at all. She met his every movement with whimpering thrusts of her own as their mouths, clamped tightly together, gulped and tasted and pleaded in primitive, pre-orgasmic sounds. "Aarrooo-uuugghhhh," Janice wailed into his own mouth.
The van took a turn and despite his total involvement Boyd knew they had left the freeway and would soon be at the house. They would have to hurry a bit; he did not want Jeff and Knute to open the back of the van and discover him humping Janice. No, that would be an invitation to a gang bang.
Boyd increased his tempo, driving harder into Janice's clenching vagina and wagging her hips from side to side with his hand beneath her ass. Her lubricant was flowing like a river into his palm and her grunts had become hysterical breath-bursts that told him she was about to climax.
"We have t-to hurry," Boyd stammered. "W-we're almost at-at our d-destin-ation. Inlet's come, Janice ... got to c-come now!"
Janice seemed to understand as Boyd increased his speed still more, spearing faster and deep ... deep ... deep as possible. She met his every stroke, rolling and rocking from side to side as his hand on her ass directed and guided her toward completion. Boyd could hear the plopping-squishing sounds of their combined lubricant now as their pelvis bones collided.
Janice's breath-bursts grew still more hysterical and then she bit his lip hard as she squealed and tensed from head to toe. She was there, Boyd knew. He drove savagely to come with her and felt his shaft jolt and the surging pleasure-current of orgasm strike shortly after Janice had climaxed.
They both lay shuddering and gasping for breath, and then suddenly Boyd realized that the van was climbing into the Hollywood hills. He told Janice he loved her, reminded her to say nothing of what had happened and, apologetically, replaced the gag on her mouth.
He had just finished getting Janice's panties back on and his own Levi's up when the van braked sharply to a halt. Frantically, Boyd ran his hands over Janice's hair, trying to make her look presentable. He smoothed her dress too, then tried to think away what remained of his hard-on.
The door opened. It was Knute. "Okay, man. We're home free," he said. "Let's get the captive inside."
Jeff rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Yeah, let's get her inside," he said. "We made it! Now comes the real fun!"
Knute took a large red kerchief from his back pocket, climbed in the van, blindfolded Janice, and then they led her down the short walkway to the front door.
Inside, Boyd seated Janice in the black, canvas campaign chair and removed her blindfold. She avoided his eyes, as though ashamed of the pleasure she had allowed herself to feel in the van, and fearfully scanned the sparsely furnished room.
Knute sat down on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head and studied Janice. Boyd sat down beside Knute.
"She's a beauty, all right," Knute said, sucking his teeth. "Well, now that we have her, what do we do first?
"Get some beers, Jeff," Boyd said. "Let's think about things."
"Good idea," Jeff said. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned in a moment with four cans of beer. "I got one for Janice too," he said apologetically. "What the hell-she's our guest, huh?"
"Just sit down," Knute said. "Don't go bananas just because you're a big-time kidnapper now. Sip your beer and shut up."
Jeff sat cross-legged on the floor, like an obedient dog. The three of them sipped their beers and stared at Janice for a long time. Janice stared up at the ceiling, the walls, everyplace but at her captors.
Finally, Boyd spoke. "I filled her in on everything while we were en route," he said. "I told her about free gas for Vietnam vets and assured her we wouldn't harm her. She knows she doesn't have to worry about getting molested sexually, and she knows there won't be any ransom note." Boyd could not bring himself to look at Janice as he said this. "Also, I explained that she would be sleeping in my room."
"Get up and look out the window," Knute said to Jeff.
Jeff did. "All clear," he said. "Looks okay."
"Good," Knute said. "Take the note and Scotch tape it to that telephone booth."
They had composed the kidnap note last night in which they said that Janice would not be harmed if Bamco service stations filled Nam veterans' tanks between the hours of 7:00 and 10:00 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays at no cost. There was the suggestion that the veterans present their discharge papers as proof of their status and a promise to keep Janice's family informed as to her well-being with tape recordings just as the Hearst kidnappers had done. The note demanded that the Free Gas Program begin as soon as possible in California, at least, and that other states in which Bamco stations operate participate in the program as soon as possible.
The note was strong and stated that Janice's life was at stake unless the program satisfied the Justice for Vets organization during the current gasoline shortage. Boyd did not like the note, because it sounded like they were potential murderers, but he had gone along with it, reasoning that true kidnappers would certainly send such a note. He felt trapped. Once they had kidnapped Janice, it seemed that everything else had to follow: the note, the recordings, the whole shot.
"Listen," Boyd said now, "if he's gonna take the note, why not make the first recording now?"
"We went over that this morning. We got to move fast," Knute said.
"I know," Boyd agreed, "but the tape will assure her parents she's all right. The vets will get their gas sooner, and we can get the whole thing over with sooner."
After his session with Janice in the van, Boyd wasn't certain he wanted the whole thing over so soon, but it was the only convincing thing he could say to get Knute to make a recording today. He guessed he wanted Janice to see that he was tender, considerate, compassionate.
Knute nodded. "Not a bad idea," he said. "Get the recorder," he said to Jeff.
Jeff went to his room and returned with the machine and the microphone. Knute went over and removed Janice's gag. Janice said nothing. Boyd was relieved.
Knute flicked on the switch and held the mike behind him. "Just tell your folks you're all right," he whispered. "Tell them the sooner they meet our demands, the sooner you'll be home. Shoot." He held the mike to her mouth.
Tears streamed down Janice's cheeks then, and Boyd's heart went out to her. "He-hello, Mom and Dad," she said. "It's Janice. I'm all right. I really am. These men say I'll be all right if you do what they say. Please do what they ask as soon as you can. I want to leave here as soon as possible-"
Janice started to say more, but Knute flicked off the switch. "That's enough for now," he said. He removed the cassette from the machine and carefully wiped it free of fingerprints with the kerchief that had been Janice's blindfold. "Remember we don't use any last names, guys," he said, glancing at Boyd and Jeff. "Okay, go," he said to Jeff. "And don't leave any fingerprints on anything while you're making the delivery. Use your gloves, ding-a-ling."
"Right," Jeff said, heading for the door with the note and cassette.
Boyd stopped staring at Janice. He stood up. "Stop by Crosley's for a beer on your way back," he said.
"Goddamit!" Knute yelled. "Don't use any names!"
Boyd ran his hands over his face. Knute was right. He had definitely goofed. "Uh-yeah," he said, trying to think of a smoke screen. "You know what I mean, Jeff. Uh-old man Crambley--uh-heard our little plan last night, so you better drop by and mention we were only kidding, dig? Tell him we did mention the crazy idea to a lot of people at the-uh-place where we go everyday though, and one of the crazy people there must have decided to kidnap our friend here."
"Good idea," Knute said. "I hadn't even thought of that. Yeah, better stop by old man Crambley hoofer's Delicatessen and do that. We don't want him calling the FBI, or anything."
Jeff nodded, winking, loving the intrigue, and left to leave the note and tape in the telephone booth on Vermont Avenue near Wilshire that they had decided upon.
Boyd shook his head and grimaced. "Jesus, it's gonna get complicated trying to speak in code and everything, man," he said. "We'll have to do most of our talking-about important things-when Janice isn't around."
"True," Knute said. "The plot do thicken, don't it? There's an awful lot we didn't even think about." He picked up the spare beer Jeff had brought in and handed it to Janice. "How about a beer, sugar?"
Janice shook her head. "No, thank you," she said icily. "But do you suppose you could untie my hands now? I promise not to flee from the desperadoes."
As Knute untied her, Boyd studied Janice. They would have to think of some way to keep her from making a break for it, he thought.
"You better tie her ankles," he said. "Yeah, and tie her hands in front of her, too. That way she won't be so uncomfortable as with her hands behind her, but she still won't be able to make a dash."
"You're a born kidnapper," Knute said, carrying out Boyd's instructions. "Yes, indeed, you're thinking all the time."
Janice scowled at Boyd with what he knew had to be hatred. Boyd felt terrible. He certainly wasn't going about the business of making her fall in love with him very skillfully. He didn't know what to say, and even if he did know what to say, he couldn't say it in the presence of Knute. It was hard to believe that Janice was the same girl he had screwed in the van. She was detached and oozing subdued rage and fear. He would have to wait till bedtime and speak to her when they were alone up in his room.
V
Knute drained the contents of his half-quart beer can, bent the can and flung it into the kitchen at the overflowing trash basket. His aim was poor. The beer can rattled on the linoleum and came to rest with all the other empties on the floor. Boyd sat next to Knute on the couch, his legs also crossed and his feet resting on the crate that served as a coffee table. He chug-a-lugged his beer, bent the can, and sent it flying into the kitchen. It landed directly in the trash basket.
"You lose," Boyd said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You empty the trash tomorrow."
"Bullshit," Knute said, grinning. "Jeff, drink up and make your shot."
Jeff scowled from his chair which was near the dilapidated, portable TV in readiness for the 11:00 news. "I don't wanna shoot," he protested. "I emptied the trash today."
"That doesn't matter," Knute said. "I said drink up and shoot."
Jeff sighed deeply, pain and injustice written all over his lean face. He gulped down his beer, bent the can and lagged it into the kitchen. He missed the trash basket by a yard.
Knute burped. "Be sure you take out the garbage, too," he ordered. "We have a guest now and we wanna make a good impression. You know ... Gracious Living." He glanced at Boyd. "Do you suppose she's all right up there?"
"No problem," Boyd said. "What could go wrong? She's tied up, there's bars on the windows, and there's nothing sharp in the room ... not even my shaving stuff. I left the set on up there, too, so she can watch the news."
"You're considerate, man," Knute said. "You're the genial host. Just don't get too genial, or Jeff and I are gonna get genial, too."
"We already settled that. I'm not gonna lay a hand on her," Boyd lied. He looked at his wristwatch. "It's almost time," he said. "I wonder if they got the tape and the note."
"We'll soon find out," Knute said. "My guess is it'll be on the news. Kidnapping isn't tiddlywinks, and Janice Bambridge isn't some nobody. Jeff telephoned 'em from the booth. Don't worry. There'll be something all right." Knute snapped open another beer from the six-pack on the crate. "Turn on the set, Jeff."
Jeff slid out of his chair and crawled on hands and knees to the set. He flicked the switch and immediately the rich and purring voice of a newscaster said:
"Janice Bambridge, daughter of Dallas multimillionaire Todd Bambridge was kidnapped by three unidentified youths this afternoon near the campus of the University of Southern California. The bold crime-reminiscent of the recent Hearst kidnapping-was followed by a note and tape recording left in a public telephone booth several miles from the kidnap scene. Police speculate that ... "
The newscaster went on to say that Todd Bambridge and his wife had already flown in from Dallas to reside at their Newport Beach home until their daughter was returned safely. The FBI, was conducting a vigorous investigation, interviewing Janice's friends, searching for every possible clue as to Janice's whereabouts. Nothing would be done to endanger her life, however, until the Bambridges had time to deliberate on the kidnappers' free gasoline for veterans demand. They had already found the stolen car.
When the regular news was over and the weather report began, Boyd got up and turned off the set. He stood there, swallowing, his stomach fluttering crazily inside. He ran his hand over his face. "Son of a bitch," he said. "Just what the hell have we done?" For the first time, the seriousness of the crime they had committed struck him fully.
Jeff looked scared also. "Maybe we should take her over to the campus and drop her off," he said. "What do you say? Let's just pretend the whole thing didn't happen and take her back."
"I know what you mean," Knute said. "It is a little spooky. But it's too late now. No, let's let 'em fill some gas tanks and then we'll let her go. Come on, gang. Let's not panic. The Bamco stations do the gasoline routine, we let Janice go, the gag is over-just a lot of good clean fun-and everybody returns to normal. Nothing to worry about."
"That would be nice," Jeff said. "But I don't know. You said yourself that kidnapping isn't tiddlywinks. I'm scared, man. I'm more scared than I was with mortar shells dropping all around me. I mean it. I'm scared shitless."
"Have another beer," Knute said. "Relax."
Boyd could tell that Knute was scared, too. He thought of himself screwing Janice in the back of the van and realized that he had been the one to really compound the crime. If he hadn't raped Janice, maybe they could just drop her off somewhere, but now it was a completely different scene. Kidnap and rape, he thought. He snapped open another beer himself and took a big gulp.
"You're sure old man Crosley didn't seem suspicious?" he asked Jeff. "If he called the police, we'd be-"
"Nah," Jeff said, trying to look calm. "Naturally he thought it was one helluva coincidence-our mentioning it and then it happening the next day-but he seemed to buy the idea that we told a bunch of our friends. Things like that spread fast, right? Nope, I know him too well. He doesn't suspect a thing, I tell you."
"I don't like it, though," Boyd said.
"I don't like it either," Knute said, "but I ain't gonna worry about it. There's nothing we can do about it. Besides, old man Crosley doesn't care about anything except drinking and selling beer. He's half-bombed all the time. He's not exactly civic-minded, so forget him."
"But what if he does get suddenly civic-minded?" Boyd said, changing his mood abruptly. He began pacing the room. "Jesus, once we free her, she can easily sic the cops on us--the cops and the FBI. And what are we getting out of this? Nothing. No ransom money. Nothing. Just some free gas for a lot of guys, and there's already rumors that the gas shortage is going to be over soon. Christ, what the hell were we thinking of?"
"Okay ... okay," Knute said. "I'll say it again. We goofed. We drank too much beer and we did a dumb thing. But it's going to be okay 'cause we're not a bunch of loonies like those SLA freaks. Do we carry rifles and threaten people? Hell, no. We're civilized college students. We're just pranksters. We treat Janice hospitably and respectfully and when we let her go, we got no problems."
Rape, Boyd thought. I raped Janice Bam-bridge!
"But we threatened Janice's life if her old man doesn't do what we say!" Jeff said, his voice high-pitched, his arms outstretched.
Knute jumped up and went over and grabbed Jeff's shirtfront in his big hands. "Shut up! I don't want to hear any more about the risks involved. This is lightweight action-nothing compared to what we've been through. Cut the sniveling or I'm gonna break somebody in half. I mean it!"
Boyd realized just how frightened Knute was now. Knute always covered his fear with anger. Boyd once saw the big man break a G.I.'s jaw right in the middle of an artillery siege.
The telephone rang just then. Jeff answered it. "It's your sister," he said, holding out the receiver to Boyd.
"Hi, Tracy," Boyd said.
"I know this is crazy," Tracy said. "But you didn't have anything to do with what happened to Janice today, did you?"
"Don't be ridiculous?" Boyd said. "I just heard about it on the news. Uh-why do you ask?" Boyd struggled to keep his voice even.
"Well, just last night you were asking me about her, and there were three young men involved. Oh, Boyd, it's so terrible. She's a wonderful girl. Why would anybody want to do a silly thing like asking for free gasoline? It's crazy. Boyd, two men from the FBI were just here questioning me. They asked a lot of questions. I didn't tell them about you asking about Janice last night. I mean, I knew there wasn't any point in telling them that. They'd just pester you, so I lied and told them nothing. Boyd?"
"Yeah?"
"Boyd, you've always been kind of erratic-wild and unpredictable. The kidnappers were obviously veterans, and-and you and your roommates are veterans-"
"Oh, cut it, Tracy." Boyd forced a loud laugh. "I assure you that me and my roomies didn't snatch Janice Bambridge from the streets. You've got to be kidding? Hell, that's kidnapping! I'm not that nutty."
Boyd grimaced at Knute and Jeff who were both listening intently.
"I-I'm sorry," his sister apologized. "But
I had to ask. This is such a terrible thing and-and a million things have been racing through my mind. Forget I even asked, will you?"
"Sure," Boyd said. "It is a terrible thing. I'm sure they'll find those-those bastards who grabbed her. She'll be all right. You'll see. Meanwhile don't let yourself get all upset."
"I'm trying not to. Been studying for your exams?"
"Yeah," Boyd lied. "Studying like hell." . "Good. As soon as your exams are over, won't you please give Joanie a call ? She doesn't want to bother you with telephone calls all the time, but she asks, about you constantly. She comes over almost every night and watches TV with the folks. I wish you'd hurry up and marry her, Boyd. You'd have such a good life together. She'd continue working while you go to school ... you could get away from those weird roommates and-"
"Yeah," Boyd interrupted. "Let's not go into all that again. I'll call her real soon. I gotta study now. Say hello to Joanie for me and I hope they find Janice quick."
"Me, too. It's so frightening to think I could have been with her. My girl friend Sheila was! Okay, then. So long and take care."
" 'Bye," Boyd said and hung up. He came back across the room and flopped down on the couch. "The FBI, works fast," he said. "They were questioning Tracy just a while ago. My thoughtful sis decided not to tell them our conversation of last night. Thank God! If she had, they'd be here now. Interesting possibility to ponder, isn't it? I mean, Janice would be free and we'd be in handcuffs and on our way to jail."
Jeff turned pale, started to speak, but glanced at Knute and changed his mind.
"But she didn't tell them about your conversation last night," Knute said. "That's the point. And old man Crosley won't say anything either. It's like saying you'd be dead if the bullet hit you. But it didn't hit you. Okay? Now let's all have another beer and hit the sack. There's school tomorrow. I think two of us should show up. Who stays?"
"I will," Boyd said. "I'm the one who filled her in on everything in the van. She-she feels most comfortable with me. I'll stay with herat least for the first day."
Jeff opened three beers and passed them around. Knute accepted his beer, eying Boyd suspiciously.
"Very well. Boyd guards the prisoner tomorrow," Knute said, banging his beer can on the crate as if it were a gavel. "Peeking up the prisoner's dress, squeezing her nipples, finger-fucking her-these are strictly forbidden."
"It is so decreed," Jeff said, "but I wish you wouldn't imitate a judge. It makes me think of what could happen if anything goes wrong." He held up his hands defensively. "Sorry, that just slipped out." Knute uncoiled, sitting back again.
"We haven't got enough class to be in the same city with that chick," Boyd said. "She's sophisticated, a genuine lady. No, there will be no horsing around with Janice. We established that from the beginning."
Knute raised his beer can in' a toast. "To Janice," he said. "To Janice Bambridge and her dedicated servant, Boyd Keller. You got a hang-up about the rich, man. They're not any different from you and me. They got money, true, but they breathe the same air and they take a crap every day." Knute belched loudly.
"They burp too," Jeff said, standing up. "Well, I'm going to bed. See you in the morning.
"Me too," Boyd said, rising. He got an apple from the refrigerator, went upstairs and unlocked the door to his room.
Janice was right where he had left her-propped up on the bed with her hands and legs tied. She was not gagged. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying, and she did not look at Boyd as he entered the room, but continued to stare at the late movie on the tiny portable television set.
"I thought you might be hungry," Boyd said. "I brought you an apple." He untied her and she took the apple and bit into it hungrily. She'd barely touched her TV dinner earlier.
"Did you see the news?"
"Yes," she said, chewing. "I saw it."
"I'm sorry, Janice," Boyd said. "All of us are a little scared about now. We-we're not really kidnappers, you know. We're not like the-the SLA or anything like that."
She put the apple down and began rubbing her wrists where the rope had been. "Aren't you?" she asked coolly.
He sat down on the bed beside her and placed his hand over hers. "We'll get this over with soon as possible. Then you can go,"
"Thank you very much," she said. "I'd appreciate that. So would my mother and father, who are probably going but of their minds right now." She pulled her hand away from his. "Excuse me, but I'd like to use your bathroom."
"Sure. Help yourself."
She got up from the bed, crossed the small room to the adjoining bathroom and paused in the doorway. "In future, I wonder if you could leave my hands untied," she said. "The windows are barred and the door is locked. It's difficult using the bathroom with my hands tied."
She looked like a queen standing there. "Certainly," Boyd said. "I didn't even think of that."
She closed the door then, and Boyd stared down at the mattress on the floor where she was supposed to sleep this first night. He wondered if he could persuade her to sleep in the bed with him. He would have to approach the subject delicately, he sensed. She didn't seem to be any too friendly at the moment.
When she came out, he said, "Listen, I've decided that you can sleep on the bed."
"Oh? And where will you sleep?"
"That depends."
"That's what I thought," she said. "No thanks. I'll sleep on the mattress."
"After this afternoon you still want to sleep by yourself?"
"You poor egomaniacal male. Yes, especially after this afternoon, I want to sleep by myself. Do you really think I enjoyed myself? I had no choice, remember? I pretended to enjoy myself so you'd finish whatever it was you had to do and leave me alone!"
Boyd went over and stood in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "I don't believe you. Listen, why don't you take a nice warm shower and then we can lie down and talk? I told you that I think you're one of the most beautiful women I ever laid eyes on. Please don't hate me. Go on. Take a shower and let's go to bed. Remember, I can make you do anything I want to. If you make a lot of noise, you'll have three men in bed with you instead of one."
She covered her eyes with her' hand. "I-I know. You made that point earlier. Please don't touch me? Just let me sleep?"
Boyd stared hungrily at her breasts, the same breasts he had sucked that afternoon. "No," he said. "I'm going to undress you and then we're going to bed together."
"It doesn't make any difference to you whether I detest you or not? You dragged me here like some animal."
"You don't detest me, and I know it. I don't say that you liked being dragged here, but you liked what happened in the van just as much as I did. Now hold still."
Boyd reached around and unbuttoned the back of her dress top. He tossed the top into the chair, and then he removed the matching skirt. "You're even more beautiful standing up," he said, staring at her luscious, ripe figure clad only in bra and panties now.
"Females usually are prettier standing up," she said defiantly, her chin raised. "Also untied."
Boyd ran his hands over her shoulders, then down over the curve of her hips'. Lingeringly, he palmed her firm buttocks, then rubbed her breasts very lightly. Finally, he leaned forward and kissed her neck, her lips. She did not move.
"See what you do to me?" he said, staring down at his erection straining against his fly. "Look."
She looked, swallowing. He could tell she was aroused, but she didn't want to admit it. "Marvelous," she said, sarcastically. "You have an erection. Am I supposed to be impressed? Don't males usually get erections when they fondle females? I'd say that was natural."
"True," Boyd said. "I'm going to undress you completely now and then we're going to take a shower together."
He pulled her panties down to the floor and she stepped out of them. Then he unclasped her bra and bent down and kissed her up-thrust breasts. She stood there like a statue, but just as in the van, she began breathing harder. He kissed her neck, her lips, her ears as he palmed the lovely breasts and teased the erect nipples. After a while, he knelt before her and kissed her tummy while massaging her buttocks.'
"Put your right foot up on the bed," he commanded.
She didn't obey, so he lifted her leg himself. Then he nuzzled in her silken bush, letting his tongue dart gradually into her slit. Reaching up above him, he continued squeezing her breasts while he tongued her clitoris. He paused to unbutton his pants front and let his hard-on escape the painful bind of his Levi's. "Go ahead and move your hips," he breathed hoarsely. "You know you like it."
"Do you th-think you-you are the only man who d-does that, or who does it w-well?" she asked falteringly, trying to sound distant, cool, matter-of-fact. Her trembling voice and the involuntary movement of her lower torso betrayed her, however.
"No, but I can do enough to make you happy, Janice. We both know that after this afternoon. You have to agree with me, don't you?"
"I suppose r-rapists have to delude th-them-selves somehow, don't th-they?" she answered.
"I'm not a rapist," Boyd said, "and we both know it. You know I idolize you, Janice. Women know about those things. No man could rape you, and we both know that, too. I know this is awful and unfair and crude, but why lie to each other? You're a prisoner and this is against your will, but you like this, so relax."
To his surprise, she said, "Just what do you th-think I'm doing, B-Boyd ... what you say is true ... I-I can't help myself." She reached down then and took his cheeks in her hands and held his mouth firmly against the top of her cunt.
This show of desire sent tingles of delight and triumph through Boyd's shivering body. Hungrily, he tongued the beautiful bud of her flesh gathering, her dainty clit, as he moaned and continued stimulating her heaving bosom. Suddenly he stood up, his hard-on standing stiff and pointing at her navel. "Lie down on the bed!" he ordered.
"After our shower," she said, almost coolly. "If you're going to rape m-me, shouldn't we both be clean?"
It was different from their lovemaking in the van. Boyd could hear her voice. She was not gagged now. Her voice and her talking to him made all the difference. Janice Bambridge
-the incredibly beautiful and sophisticated Janice Bambridge-was actually communicating with him-lowly Boyd Keller-on the subject of making love! Knute was right. He did have a hang-up. He did worship Janice and everything she represented.
But he wanted her on the bed. Now! He could not wait for a shower. He wanted to make love to her with her hands free. He wanted to lick and lap every inch of her delectable body and converse with her in words instead of unintelligible grunts.
She seemed to sense his inner conflict, for quite naturally she tenderly took his erection in her soft palm and, as though steering him, took a step toward the bathroom. "To the shower," she breathed. "Come, Boyd, to the shower ... we're a bit tacky from this afternoon, you know." She gave his prick a squeeze and he quickly encircled her waist with his hands and shoved her ahead of him into the bathroom.
She was far more experienced than he had dared to dream, for once the tepid water was streaming down on both of them, she willingly and thoroughly sudsed the wash cloth and ran it over his hairy chest, his testicles, his extended and pulsing prick. He even detected the faint hint of a smile as they gently ran the soapy wash cloths over each other's wet body.
Holding his hard-on in her hand, working it back and forth with the cloth over his outer flesh sheath, she cupped his balls and said, "You're a criminal, and I hate you for what you've done, you know that. And what we're doing now doesn't affect m-my low opinion of you, B-Boyd. But as you said, I have no choice, so-"she leaned forward then and kissed him lingeringly on the lips.
As she kissed him, letting her tongue slide into his mouth, Boyd lifted her leg so that it rested on the top of the tub. He took the soapy cloth then and ran it lovingly and ticklingly from her tailbone to her clitoris-back and forth, back and forth.
She pulled her mouth from his, still jacking his flesh stalk, and said, "I will pay you one compliment," she said. "Unlike many of the men I've encountered, you at least know where to-to touch a girl. So many men simply want to-to stick it in . : . right away ... stick it in and that's it. You'd think a girl's clitoris was up somewhere in her-her stomach. And her nipples, too! You're not g-going to carve me up and toss my corpse away or anything? You meant that?"
"Of course not," Boyd said, playing with her tits and still rubbing her nerve center and rectum with the wash cloth.
"Good, then I'll tell you something. For a rapist and a kidnapper, you're n-not bad at all," she sighed, her eyelids-fluttering as the shower spray dampened her shining blonde hair.
"I like what you're doing with your hand," Boyd said. "You're more experienced than I thought."
"I'm not that experienced, but I know what I like." She turned her head away to conceal her pleasure.
Boyd took the head of his rod and wagged it steadily against her nerve center as he now applied the wash cloth to her nipples once again. "Do you think you might want-to-to date a few kidnapper-rapists in the future?".
"Don't get smug," she said. "Let's not talk about that. Let's just con-concentrate on w-what we're d-doing. The now moment is a-all that exists...."
"Oh, you're a philosopher as well as a courtesan."
"Maybe so. Ohhh!" She reached down and clasped his prick and held it right where she wanted it against her cunt. "There ... that's it ... ohhh."
Boyd ran his hand from her shoulders to her soapy buttocks and back again as he worked his hips in a rotating motion.
"What is it with you about having a girl's leg up on something?" she asked in a purring voice.
"I don't know. I never did it before. You don't like it?" Boyd asked.
"Y-yes, but not all the t-time. L-let me put my leg down-like th-this, all right?"
She put her foot down, so that both feet rested on the wet tile and she could place her legs almost together. Then, holding his prick at its base, she directed it in steady rhythmic thrusts at the top of her vagina. "Ouuuuhhhh, niii-eeece," she whispered. "I shouldn't feel so re-relaxed with a k-kidnapper. I-I shouldn't feel so f-female, but I do-do."
"Janice, there is something between us, isn't there? Something special?"
"Yessss," she said. "I'm holding it in my hand. Your thing is between us, dummy. Don't get maudlin. K-kidnappers aren't s-supposed to get m-maudlin."
"Sorry about that," Boyd said. "Think of me as-as a Robin Hood figure. Robin Hood wants to get out of the shower now, dry off, and get in bed with you. I-I love you, Janice."
"There you go getting sentimental again. All men love women when women are holding their-their things."
"True, but I really do love you, Janice. I'd love you even if you weren't holding my prick."
"Maybe so, but not as much. And-and don't use the ugly words, Boyd. Please?"
"Prick isn't an ugly word. "What's wrong with prick? And neither is cunt an ugly word," Boyd added.
"I know, but let's be more civilized for now."
"Okay. I told you I love you, so I'll try to be civilized."
"Thank you ... ummm ... Boyd?"
"Yes?"
"Not right at first, but before we finish making love in bed, would you ... would you like to tie me up again?"
"You liked being tied up?"
"I didn't know I liked it, but I guess I did. Don't tie me up hard, but just a little. You know ... loosely. Pretty kinky, huh? But I wish you would do that."
"I'll do whatever you want," Boyd said. "And more! Let's get out now and I'll dry us off."
"All right."
They stepped from the tub. Boyd closed the shower curtain, handed her a towel, then lifted the toilet seat and began urinating. Suddenly he realized what he was doing. He pinched his near flaccid organ, shutting off the stream, and glanced over his shoulder at Janice who stood with her back to him.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't even think."
She didn't answer.
"Did I offend you?"
"Kidnappers can do anything they want," Janice said coolly, her back still to him. "Go ahead and finish," she instructed. "You started, so you might as well finish."
Boyd did, and then he turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Really. I apologize. I mean, I didn't even consider-"
"Would you mind washing your hands?"
"Oh, sure," he said. "Sure." He turned on the faucet, rinsed his hands and dried them.
"There. Now I'm clean, clean, clean. I forgot I was with a princess. We are from two different worlds," he said. "I'm just a crude and lowly student, an ex-G.I. Try to forgive me."
Her back was still to him. "It has nothing to do with our social stations in life. It does have to do with simple sanitation, manners and-and respect."
"Gh, come on," Boyd said. "I took a piss in front of you and I'm sorry." He turned her so that she was facing him. She was grimacing-really bent out of shape. He pulled her to him, kissed her lingeringly and tickled her under the chin. "I said I was sorry."
Despite herself, she smiled. "That's all right," she said. "Actually, I thought it was sort of cute. No man ever did that in front of me before. I guess I'm sort of a prude. Youyou piss just like a-a horse, you know."
"Hmm, yes. I guess I do." He laughed. "Well, why don't you just sit down there and take a leak yourself? I bet you piss just like a-a gazelle."
She pinched the bridge of her nose and cleared her throat. "Please. This conversation is degenerating into something out of an army latrine. Can we please dry off and go to bed now, Mister Kidnapper?"
VI
Their bodies were clean-smelling and still slightly damp from the shower. They stood between Boyd's double bed and the twin mattress on the floor, which was supposed to be for Janice to sleep on. Boyd stared directly into her deep blue eyes as he ran his hands slowly, appreciatively over the curving perfection of her firm, lush body. She averted his gaze, shivering slightly as his fingertips explored the small of her back, her flared hips, the cheeks of her buttocks. He rubbed his chest against her extended nipples, jiggled her full breasts in his palms and methodically let his hands roam over the marvelous protuberance of her small stomach, her silken pubic fur, her shoulders, cheeks, forehead.
He was very hard now and his throbbing and engorged penis pressed and prodded at her stomach. He pressed his lips to her neck, her chin, then delicately brushed her full and parted lips with his own lips for a moment before he let his tongue slip into her warm mouth. She tasted incredibly sweet as she twirled her tongue tantalizingly about his and daintily nursed on his tongue tip. "Janice," he sighed, "Janice."
Gently, he took her wrist and placed her fingers about the stalk of his prick. She clenched it gently, as if it were fragile, running her smooth hand up and down its hot pulsing length lovingly.
He took her other hand and placed it so it cupped his testicles, then continued to fondle her all over as their mouths played twirling, swirling tongue games. It was the nearest thing he had ever known to what they called romance, of that he was certain, although the unrealistic stories of love he had read certainly didn't include the girl fondling the man's genitals with both hands. That was too bad. The stories should be more like that scene in Ernest Hemingway's last book, Islands in the Stream, where the lovers stood on the shore fooling around with each other, Boyd thought. That was pretty good. Not corny "dirty." Real.
But he didn't want to think of books now when he had a real and beautiful and naked woman, right here in front him, who was the closest thing he could imagine to perfection. "You're perfect, Janice," he breathed.
"No, I'm not. Please don't tell me I'm perfect and spoil things. I'm just some girl you kidnapped and urinated in front of in the bathroom."
"All right." She was really remarkable and getting more remarkable all the time. He rubbed his cheek against hers, like a torn cat, and began kissing her noisily, intentionally making nursing, smacking sounds. Making sounds was okay, he thought. Everyone should have a sound track working for them, and it was silly to pretend that kisses should be full of finesse and lacking in sound.
He kissed her hungrily, gobbling at her, really, and then he gently eased her onto the bed and they lay side to side facing each other with their arms around each other and their mouths tight together-not too tight, but pressed firmly so that their touching was a mating communication that was almost meditation.
After several minutes, Boyd pulled his head back and said, "You don't want me to tie you up yet, do you,"
"No," she purred. "Not yet. I'll tell you when. I'm not quite sure I want you to tie me up. We'll see."
"You said you did." Boyd traced the rim of her mouth with his index finger, feeling that he was definitely and uncontrollably in love.
"I know, but maybe I've changed my mind. I'm not sure." She raised her leg so that her knee rested up on his hip, then took his erection and put the head of it between her legs. Then she let her leg drop again and, still holding his prick, moved so that she could ride his organ the way she wanted to.
Boyd rhythmically kneaded her breasts, flicking his thumbs steadily over her nipples and pumped in unison with her. From time to time, he would release one of her breasts and, still trying to give attention to both breasts with one hand (which was difficult), he reached behind her and explored her ass-and tugged her to him at the same time.
The problem, as Boyd saw it, was patience. Females took longer and didn't want to "get it on" (or rather in) right away, so he had to sacrifice his very real yen for wet, slippery cunt heat on his organ right away and continue the very pleasant but not altogether fulfilling exterior sex play. It would always be so for males, he guessed, but the delay was perfectly all right because it reaped far greater dividends in the long run, Already he had learned that it made the fucking better when you played around a long time first.
Boyd slid down and began working on Janice's breasts with his mouth as he steadily ground his hips to keep Janice happy there too. He loved the sight of his swollen organ spearing directly at Janice's blonde pussy and he glanced from time to time at the meeting of their organs as he lapped and licked and nursed on her large, pink-hued and extended nipples.
He loved the expression on her face also. The thought that he-Boyd Keller-was giving her intense pleasure excited him, he supposed, as much as would actually fucking her this second time. The van didn't count, he thought. No, fucking her in the van with her mouth gagged hadn't counted at all. He decided he wanted to hear her say something. He ceased drawing on her nipples. "Feel good?" he asked, knowing it was a silly thing to say. "You like it?"
"I ... love ... eee-uuhhtt," she gasped, then she quickly shoved the back of his head with her hand against her breasts again. "Don't stop," she said. "Keep doing it exactly that way."
Boyd was yearning more and more for the warmth of her pussy. He pulled his prick back, raised her leg a bit and dipped his finger lightly into her pussy, gathering lubricant to spread over her clitoris. When he had bathed the top of her love slit thoroughly, he slowly inserted his finger into her dripping cavern up to his knuckles and gently probed about. The thought that his aching member would soon penetrate and make contact with the slippery walls of her vagina made him shiver with intense desire. Lovingly, reverently, he twisted his finger as he finger-fucked ever so slowly.
Enough, he thought, forcing himself to retreat for now, and he began teasing her expanded clit. He continued that way until she coaxingly, but insistently, removed his finger and pressed his cockhead against her clit again. That was her favorite. Definitely. So he complied, secretly licking the tip of his finger before he resumed the sucking of her breasts. He palmed the heaving bosoms, licked and sucked and kissed them noisily but without haste or undue frenzy.
Then, to his amazement, he heard her moan very softly as if she had been transported to another world: "Romeo and Juliet ... Ro-mee-oohhh...." Her voice was like a chant, like some distant wind song from some long ago treasured place that was hers ... just hers. Yes, Janice was indulging in some very special and very private fantasies. He loved this imaginative wandering of her mind. He did not know why, but he loved this thing she had done, these sounds she was making. The mention of Shakespeare did not intrude upon or disturb the lust-love he was experiencing. She could have hummed a tribute to the Bobbsey Twins and he would have found it stimulating. Everything she did added to the mystery and wonder of her.
"I want to put it in," he said abruptly. "No, not yet ... just a while longer. Let's rest for a moment."
"Rest?" He didn't want to rest. It was the last thing in the universe he wanted now.
"Lie on your back," she said.
Painfully, with great effort, he did. She lay her cheek on his chest then and reached down and ran her fingertips smoothly over his testicles and prick as she gazed down at his manhood.
"It's beautiful," she said. "I love the way it stands up so-so ready." She gripped it in her fist and worked the flesh sheath up and down, staring in fascination. "Yep, you got a real nice one there, Boyd," she said, giggling.
He did not appreciate her attempt at humor at a time like this. "Thanks," he said, "but let's make love. Please?"
"You didn't say please in the van. Y-you had me all tied up and you-you brutally assaulted me." She giggled again.
"All right, I'll tie you up now and we'll make love. Okay?"
"No, wait a second. I almost came a minute ago, and I want to wait a while ... make it last. I want to kiss it."
"You do?"
"Uh-huh. I've done it a few times before, but it didn't mean anything. Tonight I want it to mean something. I really want to-to suck on your thing."
"L-let's do it to each other-at the s-same time ... sixty-nine," Boyd said, so delighted his entire body began quivering with anticipation. She actually wanted to suck his prick!
"Yes, I'd like that," Janice said. "But let me do it to you first. I-I really want to."
She began kissing his chest, licking at his nipples and running her hand from his chest to his straining hard-on. "Ummmm," she kept moaning as her head moved lower and lower. "Ummmm ... ummmm...."
Finally, her back to him, he felt her nibbling lips make contact with his cockhead. Massaging his balls, she gradually let her open mouth settle over his organ and stabbed at his foreskin with her hot tongue. He raised his hips from the bed slightly, but her hand about his flesh stalk would not permit premature entry. She was definitely running the show. Slowly, tortuously, she took the bulbous pulsing head of his member into her mouth and bathed it lovingly with her tongue. She mewed as she gobbled his meat with dedication and untutored skill.
Finally, he could remain passive no more. He pulled her back by the shoulders and kissed her still gulping lips hungrily. "I want to kiss you there now," he gasped. "Or d-do you want to-to sixty-nine?"
"Both at the s-same time," she breathed. "Yes ... sixty-nine!"
"On our sides?" he asked. "Or with me on top? H-how?"
"With me on top," she said, gulping at his ear.
She maneuvered then until she was straddling his cheeks with her knees, and then he began nuzzling and kissing and gently tonguing back and forth over the length of her steaming vagina. He held her stomach, which was passionately caving in and out, with his right hand, and gently clawed and kneaded her smooth and quivering ass with his left hand. He could not believe that he was actually sixty-nining with the most willing Janice Bambridge. The sliding, moving heat on his throbbing organ drove him to a frenzy now as he inhaled and lapped and grunted between her legs. He had not yet begun to concentrate his efforts on her clit with his tongue, but he placed his middle finger on her love nub and jiggled lightly as he munched on her cunt lips.
"Ohhhh, Boyd," she moaned, pausing and staring up at the ceiling. "It-it's heaven. Don't stop!"
He let his tongue settle directly on her sensitive flesh gathering then. Wagging his tongue tip steadily but lightly this way was exactly what she had been waiting for. She dived for his prick then and took all she could get into her vacuum-like mouth. He felt the head of his rod stab at the rear of her throat and heard her gagging ecstatically. He withdrew himself, not wanting to startle her, but she insisted on having almost his entire organ to feast upon! At the same time, her hand caressed his scrotum in a circular movement as though she were fondling something precious-some cherished childhood toy. Her fingers on his balls sent him squirming!
As she returned to sucking just the upper half of his cock and twirling her tongue crazily about the sensitive head, Boyd pressed harder with his tongue on her clit and reached under and massaged her beautiful hanging tits. He could easily come this way-very soon-but he did not want to. He wanted to fuck her slowly, without haste or fear of detection as he'd been forced to do earlier in the back of the van. Also, she had expressed a desire to be tied up . ...
He shoved her so that they were lying on their sides, and she managed the change of position without taking his prick from her nursing lips. He continued sucking her cunt for perhaps a minute longer, and then he raised himself up on one elbow. "Roll over on your back," he gasped. "I-I want to put it inside you."
As though in a trance, she continued sucking and drawing deeply on his gristle hunk. Her eyes were closed, her eyelids fluttering, the flesh at the corners of her mouth's interior appearing and then disappearing as she devoured his hard-on.
He pulled her head from his rod and she pushed his hand away hard, trying to get her mouth over his rigid meat once again. She had gone temporarily out of her head and seemed determined to suck his cock to completion. Her display of gluttony for his organ touched him deeply, but he did not want to come yet and he feared he would lose control soon if he did not pause, then fuck her. She clutched his member desperately, trying frantically to get it inside her mouth again. "No ... no ... I want it ... let me have it ... Ohhh ... Ohhh!"
"Janice! Janice! Stop! I don't want to come yet! Please stop! Let's f-fuck! Janice! Listen! I'll tie you up now if you-you w-want. Can you hear me, Janice?"
She nodded then and collapsed panting and gasping with her cheek against the sheet. He shifted her body so that her head was next to his on the pillow and cradled her in his arms tenderly. "Easy, beautiful baby," he soothed.
"Easy. Calm down for a moment. Still want me to tie you up a little? You don't have to, you know, but I will if you want me to. Do you want me to? Huh?"
She nodded, shuddering and spasming as she tried to speak. "Yes ... yes ... just a little. Tie my wrists and put them over my head. I-I'm your prisoner, Boyd. I'm helpless and I'm your prisoner ... like earlier in the back of the van ... I want to be your prisoner. You didn't know-you got to me then, did you? Well, you did. I-I don't know why but it was th-the most th-thrilling sex thing in m-my whole life. Yes, do it again ... do it again, Boyd. Fuck me while I'm t-tied up."
She had calmed down temporarily, but she still grasped his hard-on and shivered in anticipation of the thrills that were yet to come.
"Don't look at me like I'm some kind of degenerate," she said, snuggling. "Remember, you made me what I am ... you unleashed some kind of-of demon in me. I-I never knew I could be like this. Oh, Boyd! I-I'm embarrassed, but it-it's so wonderful. My beautiful darling! I never dreamed sex could be like this with anyone. I didn't know anything until I-I met you. Darling ... darling ... Yes, fuck me ... fuck me! I want to use that word now. Fuck! Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck me!"
Her absolute surrender touched and excited Boyd as nothing he had ever experienced. He could not believe that Janice Bambridge-exquisite, beautiful, sophisticated Janice Bambridge-was saying these things to Boyd Keller. It was a miracle!
He pushed her gently onto her back and raised himself on one elbow. Then, planting hungry kisses on her neck and mouth as he palmed her breasts, he spread her long, smooth legs apart and rolled on top of her.
"You want to put it inside me, don't you, Boyd? You want to fuck me more than anything, don't y-you?"
"Yesss, just like this," he said, probing with his prick in his hand at her pussy. He moved his cockhead up and down her cunt and jiggled it against her love button. He raised himself and rested his weight on his knees so that he could watch his prick play at the entrance of her gushing channel and massage her tits at the same time. Her mouth hung open, desire and lust dominating her lovely features as she stared enraptured at him having his way with her young body.
"Now," she pleaded. "Tie my wrists now!"
Boyd had nearly forgotten her earlier request. He leaned far to his right and grabbed the terry-cloth gag from the old marred table beside the bed. Then he bound her wrists hastily. He did not tie her tightly. It was, after all, a token act to indicate her total submission-something she seemed to need and want to remind her of the sex play and fucking she had received in the van.
"Beautiful ... perfect and beautiful," she said. "You s-see, this lef s me be the way I-I've always wanted to be. Not some uppity, protected s-snob of a girl, but a female who needs just what you've been giving me. Oh, Boyd! Now fuck me, my darling. FUCK ME! You're the only person who knows what I really am. Yes, fuck me and make me happy-the way you did before! I lied to you before, Boyd. I loved every second of our sex in the van. Now do it! Fuck ... fuck!"
Boyd eased his prick into her eager vagina, muttering how much he needed her-how beautiful she'd struck him from the first instant he'd seen her. When his prick was imbedded totally in the indescribable heat of her, she emitted a long "Ahhhhh" and began a slow, sensual, rhythmic thrusting that made Boyd's eyeballs tremble. Lying there with her arms extended above her head, she reminded him of a dancing harem girl. Yes, she was the sultan's favorite-writhing and thrusting tantalizingly for her master. That's the way she wanted it, and now that was the way he wanted it, too.
Humping slowly, their eyes fastened in an hypnotic stare to each Other, Boyd ran his hands firmly from her armpits to her palms, then from her palms above her head back down over her armpits to her breasts. He continued this lengthy and earthy massage, lingering at her breasts a little longer with each loving stroke. Below, her heat was robbing him of sanity.
"Ohhhhh, Boyd ... fuck," she intoned. "Fuh-uhh-uhhk meeee."
"Yes, f-u-c-k," he imitated. "F-u-c-king y-o-u ... F-u-c-k-i-n-g J-a-n-i-c-e."
They chanted that way, their genitals clashing in a kind of slow and hungry ritual on the sheets. Boyd guessed he'd never know a loving more intense. Not ever. It couldn't be. She seemed to know it too for, despite the urgency of the moment, a Cleopatra-like smile played about the corners of her lovely mouth. Yes, they were actually grinning at each other as their lower bodies set up this lust-filled cadence.
Finally, when he knew he couldn't bear the pleasure much longer, Boyd bent forward, his face hovering directly over hers and stepped up the tempo. He clutched her golden hair gently in his fists, still staring into her eyes and drove with savage restraint into the depths of her. She met his need, and more. Her hips raised from the now warm sheets and worked from side to side as he speared harder, harder, not quite with all his might.
"Hold me with your hand," she begged. "Hold my-my ass and pull. Ohhh, yesss ... Boyd ... I'm almost there!"
He didn't believe her, and so he reached below and rubbed her clit as he stabbed with his engorged flesh pole. It wasn't that he thought she would lie; it was because he didn't.think she understood her own need. But she knew ... she did know.
"No, I-I d-don't need that. J-just hold m-my bottom and fuck the way you were. Yes ... yes . . .yes! Oh, yes!"
The bed was rolling beneath them, the springs protesting now. Boyd clutched her ass hard as her arms above her head wagged back and forth.
"Boyd! Boyd! Now! Yesss! Ohhhh!"
He had never heard a woman cry out that way before, and to his own surprise he was muttering something too-hoarse and hungry gasps that told her he was coming.
He had never come simultaneously with a woman before. Not exactly. There was an explosion of gasps and pleas. Not as many as he would have guessed. But enough. And then they lay limp and trying to get their breaths back.
After a long time, Janice snuggled up and pressed her head against Boyd's chest. She lay on her side and Boyd was on his back. "I could learn to love being your prisoner," she whispered. "That was the yummiest thing that ever happened to me. Are you hungry or thirsty or anything?"
"I don't know," Boyd said. "Why?"
"I want to do something nice for you. Can I get you something to eat or drink downstairs from the refrigerator?"
"That's sweet, but Knute or Jeff might see you. Also, you might try to escape."
"No, I promise I won't escape. Besides, they're asleep. Look at the clock. It's I:30."
Boyd studied her. He was touched that she wanted to serve him. "All right," he said. "But put on my robe." He was running the risk of her dashing out the front door, but he decided to risk it. Something deep inside of him told him he could trust her.
She put on his robe, then tiptoed to the door and went out.
VII
Boyd glanced at the clock on the dresser. Janice had been gone over five minutes and he was growing apprehensive. Still naked, he sat up on the edge of the bed and considered going downstairs. Had she deceived him? Had she run for help? The thought that this might be true sent ripples of fear through his stomach.
Just then she appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray. She winked at him, looking ridiculous in his robe with the sleeves rolled up. "Thought I'd made a break for it, didn't you?" she asked, setting the tray down on the bedside table.
"It did cross my mind," Boyd said.
She had made bologna and cheese sandwiches and there was a beer and a Pepsi on the tray, too. Yes, he was touched deeply that this lovely girl they had dragged forcibly from the street was serving him. She slipped out of his robe, showing no inhibition at all, and handed him a plate with a sandwich on it.
"It's nice to have a woman around the house," he said, taking the beer, too. "I thought rich girls were used to having maids serve them."
"We are," she said, "but I'm not in Dallas now. I'm in this weird house with my captor-lover. You guys aren't very good housekeepers. That kitchen ... ugh!"
Boyd took a swig of his beer. "Sorry 'bout that, princess. Why didn't you run out and knock on somebody's door and ask for help?"
"Because I didn't want to, Boyd." Daintily, she took a bite of her sandwich and sipped her Pepsi. "Want to know something? I'm looking forward to a few weeks' break from school. As long as your two strange roomies don't attack me or something, I plan to go along with this little kidnapping."
"Because I'm such a sensational lover?" Boyd smiled, chewing.
She nodded, also chewing. "Partly. But there's another reason. You see, my parents happen to be the most pompous, idle snobs in the world. This will be good for them. Daddy will have to spend a lot of money giving away gasoline and I'm going to love every second of it. He's too rich anyway. Oh, I love my daddy, sure, but my folks drive me nuts with their rigid and imagine life-style. They think they know me, but they don't know me at all. They think I'm sweet and pure and made of sugar and spice and that I'm supposed to smile and do their bidding whenever they push the right buttons."
Janice dabbed at her lips with a paper napkin.
"So you want revenge, eh? You're taking all the fun out of this, Janice. Hell, if you're not going to try to escape, we won't even have to tie you up. What kind of kidnapping is this, anyway?"
She shrugged. "Well, you can tie my hands behind my back when Jeff and Knute are around, but when we're along we can relax and just enjoy ourselves. Do you have to tie me up when you go to school?"
"Not necessarily," Boyd said. "In fact, I've just decided to take a few weeks off. Jeff and Knute will be away at classes during the day, and it will be just the two of us."
Boyd took a huge bite and chased it with half his can of beer. He burped.
"God, what a lower-class slob!" Janice said, laughing as she chewed.
Boyd put his hand to his mouth and quietly burped again. "Sorry," he said, "but I've never had the privilege of mingling with the super rich. I will try to watch my manners, however." Boyd studied Janice's breasts and shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said. "This is beyond my wildest fantasies. You turn me on more than any girl I ever met."
"I know," she said. "And you turn me on, too-otherwise I would have fled when I was downstairs." She frowned. "You know, Knute's eyes spook me, and that scrawny Jeff strikes me as an incipient degenerate. Are you sure you can keep them under control?"
"Positive," Boyd said. "Knute thinks he's boss, but really I run the show when I want to. Don't worry about them. In fact, when they're away we can even go to the movies-anything we want. We'll get you some dark glasses and nobody will recognize you. We'll have a ball." He reached out and touched her breast. She didn't move, but went on chewing.
"Yes, I would like to get out," Janice said. "I'll need a few things. All I've got is the clothes I was wearing when you so violently shoved me into that awful car. Yes, I should do some shopping. Fortunately, I have my purse, some money and my credit cards." She frowned, staring up at the ceiling as she chewed. "Hmmm, I'll need a few casual outfits, underclothing, toilet articles, maybe a coat, that sort of thing."
"You can't use your credit cards, dummy," Boyd said. "They'd take one look at you and your name and-and arrest me. I've got some money in the bank. I'll lend it to you. Don't worry about it. We'll get whatever you need."
"Thank you, Boyd," she said. "That's awfully sweet of you. I'll pay you back. I promise."
They both laughed at the insanity of the situation.
"Listen though," Janice said. "What are we going to do about keeping you out of jail when this is all over? I mean, we're both laughing, but in the eyes of the world this whole scene is-well, it's serious, you know."
"That is a problem." Boyd finished the last of his sandwich and swallowed. "Would you consider telling your father that the whole thing is a gag? I mean, suppose you told the world you were in on the kidnapping. Therefore, it wouldn't be a kidnapping at all, right?"
She nodded. "Excellent. I'll look pretty foolish, and daddy will be awfully angry, but it does seem to be the only way. All right, I'll do it!" She giggled hysterically. Finally, she calmed herself down and said, "This is really something. For all practical purposes then, I'm a free woman right now. I mean, you will release me any time I please, won't you?"
"Correct," Boyd said. "I do wish, however, that you will continue to be our guest for the next few weeks ... for the reasons you already indicated." He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "I do love you."
"It's agreed then," she said, returning his kiss. "Because I love you too, it is definitely agreed. But not a word to you: dingy chums. Then, when this is over, I'll announce I'm an accomplice."
"Good," Boyd said. "That eliminates our number one problem. Jail."
"There is one promise I wish you'd make me," she said. "I want you to assure me that when this is all over, you'll start dating me just like any other girl. I want you to meet my mom and dad-the whole proper procedure-and we'll go on as if nothing illegal had ever happened."
"Fine," Boyd said. "Hell, maybe someday we'll get married and your dad will give me a big executive job with the Bamco Oil Company."
She studied him shrewdly. "Oh, God!" she said in mock horror. "Daddy warned me about fortune hunters! Is that what you are?"
"No, it's your body I want, but a little security wouldn't hurt. I mean, I'm just the son of an insurance salesman who delivered newspapers as a boy."
"You mean your father delivered newspapers? Your grammar is terrible, Boyd. Who delivered newspapers? You or your father?"
"I know. What I mean is, I delivered newspapers. I'm just a common, ordinary guy. My dad did deliver newspapers too, though."
Janice reached out and squeezed his prick. "No you're not ordinary. You give a girl yummy orgasms and, believe me, that isn't so ordinary! Also, you happen to be a man-not just a male. A man."
Suddenly Janice grew serious. She pushed the remains of her sandwich aside. "Okay, now we know a bit about each other," she said. "We know that I don't want any part of the kind of life my folks lead-that I don't want to be a Dallas debutante and all that junk. But what about you? Are you for real? I mean, can I really trust this feeling I have that I'll probably never meet a man I like as much as you. I really mean it when I say I think I love you, you know."
"Let's worry about the details later," Boyd said. "Let's not analyze this to death and ruin everything."
"You're right," Janice said. "I love your mind-that penetrating existential brain of yours." She hugged her upper arms and rocked back and forth, blinking rapidly. She looked very happy. "Oh yes, I don't use drugs, do you?"
Boyd shook his head. "Nope. I've smoked a few joints in my life, but my only vice is beer. I don't usually drink very much beer either."
"Good," she said. "That's always a good thing to establish. I don't want to get hooked up with a junkie or some pill head. It's too sad. I knew a boy who got really strung out. High society and all that ... but strung out nevertheless. Hey, do you know what really interested me in you-I mean, besides the way you made love to me in the van so considerately the first time."
"No. What?"
"What really interested me was the way you said something about our learning what makes people on opposite ends of the socioeconomic ladder tick. That really intrigued me, Boyd. Right then I knew you were something special. You see, as I mentioned, I've always been super protected-insulated-and I've detested it. The boys in my circle were little Lord Fauntleroys and the girls were just too prissy for words. I'm not a Marxist necessarily, but the whole scene was so phony and unreal it made me secretly nauseous."
"Why don't you say it made you want to throw up'? "
"Uhhk! Can't you please show a little class, Boyd? All right then, 'throw up.'"
They both chuckled.
"Anyway, the point I want to make, Boyd, is that your comment about our association yielding some mutual insight into the have and have-not syndrome was what won my heart, darling. Right there-tied up in that van-I said to myself, This man is for me! He's direct, honest, and I dig him!"
"Your faint Texas accent is misleading, my love," Boyd said. "Unfortunately, you're beginning to sound awfully intellectual. Can't you please affect a sort of virginal stupidity?"
"No! Sometimes a bit coy and typically feminine, but never virginally stupid."
"AH right," Boyd said. "I can dig that. But at least-from now on-can we keep the language simpler? I mean, if Jeff or Knute happened to sneak up and listen at my door, they'd think we were someone else. I mean, we have to stay in character or risk blowing their minds."
Janice stared Boyd directly in the eye, slowly shook her head and managed an anti-intellectual grin. "God, what a man!" she said. "To think I had to be kidnapped to discover you. Yes, you're right. From now on we'll keep it straight and simple. I-I'm a sort of dumb but pretty heiress with a Texas accent and-and you're-what are you really?"
Boyd shrugged. "It's pretty simple, really. I'm sort of poor ... I go to a state college and I-well, I shoot pool in my spare time."
"Good," Janice said. "That's very good. II love this game we're playing, Boyd."
"So do I."
They both laughed, hugging each other. Finally, Janice looked over at the clock. "It's getting awfully late."
"True, but then we don't have to get up at any special time, do we? I mean, where do we have to be in the morning? Nowhere, right?"
"Right," Janice said. "Let's lock the door, make love again, then just drift off into lazy sleep. Ummm."
"Good idea," Boyd said. He got up, went over and locked the door and came back and stood beside the bed. "Lie back and relax," he said.
His prick had already begun to rise.
"Ummmm. Yes, Boyd," she said, wetting her lips as she stared at his hard-on. "I-I want you again."
He spread her out on the bed and they lay close together. "Do you want the light out?" he asked.
"I don't care," she said. "Whatever you want."
Boyd left the light on and began running his hands over her smooth body. He found her heaving breasts and squeezed them as he feasted on her lips. Her hand reached down and took his pulsing erection lovingly. "It's going to be a delicious couple of weeks," she purred. "It's going to be a-a honeymoon. I'll even fix you breakfast. We-we can just loll around all day and-and fuck. There. I said it, didn't I? I said fuck with dramatic emphasis!"
"Yes, you said it," Boyd said. "You're getting better all the time."
He tongued her ear and, once again, began whispering compliments-telling her how beautiful she was and how much he worshipped her body, her round and firm breasts, her tight, hot, clenching snatch. As he went on tonguing her ear and nibbling at its lobe, she caressed his prick with both hands and mewed seductively, tantalizingly. Then he blew on her nipples to coax them still more erect. He licked them, drew them deep into his mouth, giving each one an equal share of loving.
"Ohhh, Boyd," she breathed, squirming. "Here we go again, darling. Could it possibly be as good as it was the first two times? I don't see how it could be. I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of you. No, never ... you're such a wonderful lover. You seem to know everything a woman needs and wants. I-It's as if you were a f-female in some other life." She held his head in both her hands, guiding his efforts.
"Wait a minute!" Boyd said, protesting. "Don't threaten my virility with that-that female talk." Despite his aroused state, he managed a laugh. "I-I've always been a man, sweet. Always. I'm king of the Cock 'n Balls set."
"Sorry, dear," she gasped, trying to be casual, despite her aroused state, too. "I wasn't thinking ... Ummm ... Ohhh, suck them, Boyd. Gobble my nipples up!"
As he sucked, Boyd reached down now and began playing with her cunt. She spread her legs farther apart and groaned louder as his strong hands worked all over her body ... pressing, fondling, exploring, preparing her for the fucking to come. His prick in her fondling hands jerked with anticipation. God, he thought, if she had any idea how anxious he was to get his rod inside her! He could tell her all night of his need for her, but he knew he could never make her truly understand the depth of his need.
"I need it bad, Boyd," she whispered hoarsely. "Fuck me soon? Will you fuck your captive soon?"
He was palming her pubic mound with the heel of his hand, stimulating her nub as he lapped at her tits so hard he could hear the slurp of his saliva. "Pretty soon, baby," he said. "I love to give you what you need-what we both need. Pretty soon I'll fuck you and make it feel good for both of us."
She cupped his testicles in her right hand and continued sliding his foreskin back and forth. "God, it keeps getting better and better, darling. It gets better each time. It's so big and hard and it drips just for me ... ummmm ohhh, yesss, I love your finger right in my pussy that way."
Boyd knew he could not wait to imbed his member in Janice's seething chamber much longer. He wanted to ride her hard this time, clutch her ass and drive his prick home until she shuddered to completion. Yes, that's what he wanted this time-plain old-fashioned fucking.
As he teased her twat, he slid down now and kissed her stomach. "I can't wait much longer," she gasped. "I want you inside-way up inside and pumping hard."
It was incredible the way she seemed to want exactly what he wanted, Boyd thought. It was as if she had read his mind. They both wanted to fuck without unnecessary frills this time.
They both wanted to "get it on" and rut like two animals in mating season. They both wanted his engorged penis right up inside of her twat, jamming, filling her up, cramming and giving them What they both desperately needed. "Are you going to stick me soon?" Janice asked impatiently. "When are you going to stick me ... when are you going to stick it up inside?"
"In a minute," he rasped. "I'm going to plunge it up there in just a minute. I'm gonna stick my meat in that cunt of yours in a minute. Yeah!" he realized that he was talking like some insensitive, sex-crazed low-life, but he could not help himself.
She jacked his flesh stalk harder, urgently clasping it and running her palm over its head with one hand while her other hand jerked crudely on his flesh pole. "I'm learning to love your talking to me that way," she said. "Keep on making that beautiful, awful talk to me until you fuck me. It makes my pussy-my cunt-wetter and wetter. Ohhh, Jesus, my cunt is actually spasming inside. I have to have that big prick right up inside my-my pussy and making me tingle all over!"
They had both established that they wanted to fuck without, delay, but quite suddenly-unexpectedly-she asked him to lick between her legs for just "a little while." He agreed to eat her briefly and did so abruptly-abruptly but thoroughly-gorging himself on her juicy cunt lips and inserting his tongue up inside her as far as it would go. He knew the interior of her vagina lacked sensitivity compared to her outer regions, but his sticking his tongue up inside her pussy had symbolic meaning. To him, it seemed to say that he wanted all of her, every nerve and fibre of her being, outside and m-side. He munched loudly on her cunt until hiA face was smeared with love juice. Finally, inevitably, he concentrated on her sensitive clit until she could stand his delay in fucking her no longer. "Now?" he asked, rather sadistically. "Want my cock now?"
"Now!" she wailed, trying to lift his face from between her legs. "Fuck me now! Stick it in now. Puleeze!"
He slid eagerly up into screwing position, settling onto his elbows and knees as she continued to whimper pitiful and desperate pleas. She spread her legs as far apart as possible, indicating her total passivity, then locked her ankles behind the backs of his knees and, trembling and twitching all over, dug her fingernails into his buttocks and pulled him at her cunt.
"Fuck me, Boyd! Screw me good!" she cried, tossing her head wildly from side to side.
"Wait!" he gasped. "It-I want to put a pillow under your ass." He reached over and grabbed the pillow, then hastily raised her and slid it under her quivering buttocks. "There ... now I can really spear it into you ... all the way in ... yeah!"
"Ohhh, that's wonderful," she sighed. "I'm raised up for you to stick me hard. My cunt's a platform for you, darling!"
As he began the insertion, feeding a little of his cock to her at a time, Boyd stared down at his probing member as it parted Janice's beautiful cunt lips. There was no finesse involved in their mating this time, just his prick wedging and nudging its way into her alternately contracting and expanding channel. She grabbed his gristle hunk at the base, clenching hard at the trunk of his meaty monster while she growled lustily from deep down in her throat. He grabbed her wrist, releasing her grip on his prick and imbedded himself totally into the eager cunt. "Ahhhh!" he sighed as the intense heat enveloped his shaft.
They exercised some restraint for a moment, Janice arching her back and bending his prick slightly with her pelvic bone, and then their movements became frenzied! He began stabbing, searchingly-sticking, probing, plunging-as she directed his fucking with her hands on his ass.
She wanted every bit of him-all he had, so Boyd bent back slightly to give her every inch of his plunging pole. He loved the sight of her lying flat on her back, totally his as her breath-squeals punctuated her babbling pleas and chants of gratitude. Actually, this brand of fucking had not been their style previously, but this time it was ... it was! He speared her very hard so that their pelvic bones gnashed. The impact was terrific. Boyd heard himself grunting with each stroke.
They were close to the end now and, already, Janice had informed him hysterically that she had experienced a few minor climaxes en route to the impending grand climax.
"All over! All over!" she cried. "I can feel it coming all over my boddeeee!"
Boyd was almost there, too. He could feel his flesh sack tingling, the good feeling spreading and rippling up and down his spine as his sperm readied themselves to burst forth into the depths of this woman. He plunged harder, faster, slamming his cock into the clenching and eager twat with every thing he had. Her hands clutched his buttocks and his back now, pressing him to herself as though she were terrified that she might be denied this most exquisite of sensations.
"Commm-mminnnng!" she moaned from the depths of her being. "Ahhhnnng ... Ahhnng ... Ahhnnnng!" And then her Voice trailed off and became babbling, sobbing hymns to her total sexual relief. Boyd finished a second later, collapsed, then bucking and gasping he fell forward and tried not to let his full weight press against her. It had been an animal fuck, all right-no hint of courtesy or civilized restraint. Boyd could not recall ever feeling so drained, so absolutely satiated. He felt relieved from his scalp to his tonsils!
After what seemed a long time, he rolled from on top of her. Oddly, she seemed reluctant to release him. It was as if she wanted to continue to listen to his gasping in her ear. Lying beside her now, he nuzzled between her chin and shoulder. There was no need for words. Their bodies had said it all and, now, even in repose, their calm and even breathing was enough. It seemed the perfect communication.
Finally, Boyd hugged Janice hard, kissed her long and gratefully before he turned and faced the wall. She cuddled up close, her knees fitting into the back of his knees and she took his wrist as if to hold him prisoner. He loved that gentle grip-he knew not why-and happily he drifted off to sleep.
Boyd's dream began in Knute's van, and once again he was lying beside Janice as they sped away from the USC campus. Suddenly the van was swerving wildly and there came the wail of a siren from behind them. The van swerved, heading up the hill toward the house, and at last it screeched to a halt in the driveway.
"They're after us!" Knute screamed as he flung open the rear door. "Come on! Get Janice out! We'll have to hole up in the house and make our stand there. Christ, the whole fucking police force is after us!"
Boyd saw, to his horror, that both Knute and Jeff carried submachine guns and wore cartridge belts over their shoulders. He helped Janice out, and they ran into the house just as black and white police cars braked to a halt at the curb.
Inside, both Boyd and Jeff broke the living room windows with their gun muzzles and braced themselves for a siege. "Get down on the floor!" Boyd yelled at Janice. "There's gonna be all hell breaking loose in a minute-bullets, tear gas, the whole scene. Lie down flat!"
"Bullshit," Janice replied. "You raped me, you mother fucker, and now I'm one of the kidnap gang. I'm gonna shoot it out to the death. I hate my rich mother and father and now's my chance to get even with them and the whole lousy world!"
Boyd could not believe his ears. Also, he noticed that Janice had miraculously changed her hair. She wore a dark wig and her features were hard, angry. Behind her, against the wall of the living room, were piles of ammunition and jugs filled with gasoline, their narrow tops plugged with torn bedsheets: Molotov cocktails. Jesus, he thought, one bullet and bam ... the whole house would explode.
A loud, official-sounding voice-amplified as though it were coming through a megaphone-boomed from the street. "You're surrounded. Release Janice Bambridge and come out with your hands up. There's no escape. You have five minutes before we open fire and penetrate the house with tear gas! We're starting to count!"
"Let's give up," Jeff whined. "We don't have a chance." He glanced at the Molotov cocktails and grimaced. "Come on Knute, Boyd. ... what do you say? We're not in any real trouble yet. Let's give up before it's too late."
Janice Bambridge cracked him across the jaw with the butt of her machine gun. "Chicken-shit!" she rasped. "No, we're gonna take as many of them as we can before they nail us."
"Good girl," Knute said, grabbing one of her tits. "Hey, we got five minutes, Janice. Let's fuck before the bullets start flying. What do you say?"
Janice winked and began unbuttoning Knute's fly. "Hell, yes!" she said, grabbing Knute's hard-on. "Why not? Yeah, let's knock off a quick piece of ass before we die."
Janice lay down on her back and spread her legs wide and Knute quickly mounted her. He jammed his prick into her cunt without any foreplay whatever and began pumping and leering over his shoulder at Boyd. "Oh, man," he said, "this pussy feels good, Boyd. Listen, I'll get my rocks off quick, man, and then you can ball her too. Hell, maybe there'll even be time for 'timid-nuts' here to fuck Janice. Wouldn't that be something-all three of us making it with Janice before we die?"
Boyd stared at Janice, unable to believe his eyes. She was shoving her hips hard, viciously at Knute's plunging rod. "Yeah, man," she grunted. "Come quick, Knute, so I can take on these other dudes, too."
"But we have to surrender," Jeff reminded them again. "We can't just lie around fucking while they're firing tear gas at us. Please? Won't you two stop screwing so we can surrender. This is crazy ... insane! Please?" Jeff gazed at Boyd for help.
Boyd shrugged. "It's no use," he said. "You can either wait your turn and screw Janice or go on out and surrender. Yeah, that's a good idea, Jeff. Why don't you go on out and surrender? Tell them to give us an extra five minutes, though, so I'll have time to fuck Janice after Knute's finished."
Jeff burst into tears. "Oh, my god! You're all crazy."
"Get that little chicken-shit out of here!" Janice yelled. "If he doesn't want to fuck me, tell him to surrender. My pussy's too good for the little bastard anyway. Come on, hurry up and come, Knute baby. Boyd's waiting for his last piece of tail and the fuzz are waitin' to plug this joint full of holes."
Knute drove his shaft into the gyrating Janice with a frenzy. "Almost there," he grunted. "Give me a few s-seconds more, baby."
Anger, sadness and fear welled up within Boyd's chest as he watched his angel, Janice, screwing like some degenerate whore. He could not believe the change in her.
And then Knute came. "Ahhh," he groaned, then quickly withdrew himself from between Janice's legs and stood up, buttoning his pants. "Who's next?" he asked, breathing hard.
Jeff backed away, blinking. "There's no time!" he screamed. "Can't you understand there's no time left?"
From outside, the amplified voice again sounded. "Two minutes left. Come out with your hands up or we're sending in the tear gas."
Big Knute went over to the window and yelled, "Okay, mother fuckers." His hands were cupped at his mouth. "We're comin' out, but we need five more minutes."
The amplified voice answered that his request for more time was granted.
"Good work," Janice said, grinning at Jeff. "See you don't have to surrender until you've fucked me. Come on, stick it in me. Hell, there's time for you and Boyd too. Whoooeeee! All of us are gonna fuck before we die. Come oh, Jeff. You want some pussy, don't you?" Janice spread the lips of her vagina apart with her fingers and grinned.
Reluctantly, Jeff dropped his pants and slid between her legs. "I-I'm not even sure I can," he whimpered.
"Oh, yes you can. Here, I'll help you get it up," Janice said, and began fondling his semi-hard organ. "There you are, sugar. Now you can stick it in and leave the rest to me I"
Boyd looked on then as Jeff and Janice began fucking. Once again, Janice worked her hips in a gyrating motion as if she wanted her partner to come immediately. "Hey, you got a nice prick too, kid," she complimented. "Let's see how fast you can come. Boyd there is eager as hell, so make it nice and fast. I can see Boyd's hard-on pressing against his fly. Fuck, baby, fuck! Give me all you got!"
Janice was right about his hard-on. Despite his fear and jealousy, Boyd did want to fuck Janice. Suddenly he was caught up in the hysteria and madness of the moment, and the thought of fucking just minutes before all of them met their deaths excited him. He had lost all reason. He, too, had temporarily gone insane.
Suddenly he realized that there were cartridge belts about his own shoulders as well as Jeff's and Janice's as they fucked. Here they were-four armed guerillas-screwing without even the most crude of preliminaries ... animals mating while death awaited them.
"Ohhhh!" Jeff groaned then as he reached his orgasm.
Janice tossed him from between her legs and waved at Boyd, who nodded his head and dropped his Levi's. "Come on, sugar, and you better make it good 'cause these first two studs gave me some good hard fucking. Hell, I might even be able to come with you if you stick me hard and steady."
Boyd mounted her then, but before he could penetrate Janice, the tear gas pellets began shattering the windows. Acrid fumes rose in billows all about him and soon all four of them were choking violently. Janice slid out from under him and struggled to her feet. Gasping, she went to the window, yelled, "Rotten sons of bitches," and then fired several blasts from her machine gun. Jeff crouched on the floor gasping and sobbing while Knute took his place beside Janice and began firing too.
Boyd just pressed his back to the wall and stared in disbelief as the rat-tat-tat-tat sounded from outside and pieces began flying from the walls about him. The bullets were landing dangerously close to the jugs of gasoline ... closer ... closer . ... and then there was a flash that he barely had time to perceive-a rumbling, crashing roar that he knew meant doom while he stood there with his erection standing out before him. No time to fuck ... not even any time to fuck before he died . ...
Boyd awoke panting and perspiring profusely. He guessed that he had been thrashing about and he was glad that Janice was still asleep. Still trembling from his hideous and terrifying dream, he ran his palm across his face. He was actually gushing cold sweat. He dried his hand on the blanket, then slipped quietly out of bed and went downstairs to the refrigerator. He gulped ice water directly from the water bottle and continued trying to blot out his memory of the nightmare.
The linoleum was cold under his bare feet. "Kidnappers," he said aloud. "God, what have we done?"
He went into the living room then and collapsed on the sofa. He stared frowning at the scantily furnished room and suddenly it seemed as if his life were completely and totally meaningless. Stark truth engulfed him and he knew that he was heading nowhere. He was an ex-GI who had emerged from a meaningless war to begin an even more meaningless existence as a college student. Hell, he wasn't even studying or attempting to get good grades. He had been wasting his time shooting pool and guzzling beer and now he'd let his ding-a-ling roommates talk him into this insane kidnapping.
He saw the kidnapping now for what it really was: a crime which he had compounded by raping Janice Bambridge. True, Janice Bambridge was now defiantly reveling in her role as captive, but this did not alter the fact that he, Knute and Jeff would very probably be caught and serve prison terms. How could they have ever imagined this kidnapping could end in any other way? Hell, with the FBI, on their tails there was no possible escape. Sooner or later they would get nailed, go to trial and spend years in prison.
Yes, despite the fact that Janice was now caught up in the childish prank (childish except for its consequences!) and agreed to help him escape the penalty, he realized that the public and the Bambridge family would not be deterred in their quest for vengeance. Bamco Oil would have spent millions filling veterans' gas tanks by the time this was over, and no matter how hard they tried to minimize what they had done, the fact remained that they had kidnapped a girl and threatened her life! That was not kid stuff. Huh-uh. You might have been fooling all along, but you couldn't just say, "Hah, my fingers were crossed. See, I was only kidding, folks. We're not really kidnappers and potential murderers. The joke's over. We're just fun-loving college kids, so you can let us go now. Sorry if we caused you any trouble."
Shit, we're objects of a nation-wide manhunt right now, Boyd thought. People with guns are looking for us! Except for all that exaggerated screwing business and the weaponry involved, what occurred in my dream could really happen!
Boyd stared at the crumbly furniture in the room, the boxes and makeshift tables and chairs, and he wondered why he had not married Joanie Hildreth. Hell, I could be living like a civilized human being, leading some kind of meaningful and orderly life with a woman who loves me instead of pissing away my life with a couple of bums like Knute and Jeff. Maybe
I'm no better than they are, he thought then. Yeah, maybe I deserve exactly what I've got. Shit is exactly what I deserve....
But Joanie Hildreth deserved more than he had given her in exchange for her lifetime of devotion, he knew, and suddenly he was overcome with guilt and remorse. He thought of beautiful Janice Bambridge, who now slept peacefully upstairs, and he contemplated her remarkable attitude toward the kidnapping and himself. Yes, so far this whole thing has been like some weird fairy tale all right. But there was one problem. The fairy tale could not possibly end well. No way. No, no matter how hard he attempted to delude himself that Janice actually loved him, the thing would have to end badly. ... in shame ... in prison. ... To his amazement, Boyd found himself crying. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He allowed himself this outpour because it had been a long time since he had cried. Longer than he could remember. It was silly and ridiculous for him to sit there and bawl that way, but he let himself cry nevertheless. But he cursed himself as he cried because he knew he had no right to cry. If anyone had the right to cry, it was Janice Bambridge and, particularly, those who loved and were now worried about Janice "Bambridge ... her parents.
He was still holding his face in his hands when Janice's purring voice said, "Boyd, what's wrong?"
He jumped. Janice was standing before him stark naked, her face full of empathy. "You shouldn't be here, Janice," he said, sitting up straight to conceal his despair. "Jesus, you can't walk around this house naked with Knute and Jeff around. Those-those freaks might do anything."
"But why are you down here alone? And-and why are you crying?"
"I've done a terrible thing," he said, sighing. "This whole thing is crazy. I wish there were some way to undo the kidnapping-all of it."
Janice tilted her head to the side and reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. "All of it?" she asked, grinning slyly despite her sleepiness. "Are you sure?"
She sat down beside him then and hugged him consolingly. "Oh, Boyd, you have no idea what you mean to me. You're the knight on the horse I've dreamed about ever since I was a little girl! You've made me happier than I ever thought possible. I've broken out of my shell and I have you to thank. No, please don't say you regret anything that has happened. I love you, Boyd. I really mean it."
He stared at her, admiring her beauty and the valleys and curves of her exquisite body. She was a princess all right ... a defiant but now defiled princess.
Boyd laughed bitterly. "I'm no knight and I'm no Robin Hood figure, Janice. I'm a kidnapper and-and rapist-and even in the days of castles and romance and happy endings real people got locked up or hanged when they did the things I've done."
She kissed him lingeringly on the cheek. "You're just in a-a mood," she said. "I used to have nightmares and get feeling the same way. Tomorrow morning when we're all alone here you'll feel differently. I'll make you feel differently. You'll see. Come on now and go to sleep with me, darling. We've found something very special together. Let's not ruin things by thinking too much. Let's enjoy the moment only-the now-and know that everything will turn out all right."
Boyd stood up. He was still confused, but with Janice's hand in his the fairy tale aspect of all that had transpired came to the fore again and he felt better. Maybe everything would turn out all right, he thought. Maybe he would not have to go to prison and maybe this heiress-angel was right. Yes, maybe this was a fairy tale with a happy ending and maybe everything would turn out all right after all.
But as they mounted the stairs to his room and his bed, he wasn't absolutely convinced that even a woman like lovely Janice Bambridge could merely "kiss it and make it well."
No, the terrible premonition was still very much with him.
VIII
Two weeks had passed since Janice Bambridge had been so boldly snatched from the street near the University of Southern California. The newspapers and television newscasts were filled with speculation and theories as to who her kidnappers really were and where she might be. The tape recordings of her voice, assuring her parents that she was all right, were listened to by millions of outraged citizens from coast to coast.
For nearly a week now, at Todd Bambridge's direction, the Bamco service stations in ten western states had been filling the-gasoline tanks of Vietnam veterans at no charge on Monday, Wednesday and Friday between the hours of 7:00 and 10:00 a.m. as stipulated.
Despite the fact that the gasoline shortage had eased off, the kidnappers had given no indication that their demands were to be altered in any way. The majority of the veterans living in the western United States did not take part at all, protesting both the kidnapping and the kidnappers' demands. Nevertheless, Bamco had spent millions and there was no statement from the kidnappers as to when Janice Bambridge would be released.
Janice's mother and father continued to reside at their Newport Beach home and expressed their hope to television interviewers that their daughter would soon be free. The entire nation empathized with Todd Bambridge and his wife, Clair, and everybody from politicians to the man on the street vehemently denounced this most recent .kidnapping in the current rash of unspeakable violations of human rights, violence and extortion.
Possibly the person least upset by the Janice Bambridge kidnapping was Janice Bambridge herself. As she watched her parents on television, a faint smile played about the corners of her lovely mouth. Knute Brunsgaard and Jeff Barker could not understand Janice's amusement at seeing her parents so distraught. Boyd Keller did understand....
This morning, after preparing her captors breakfast (Janice had been given pretty much the run of the house by now), Janice cleared the table and began washing the dishes. At Knute's insistence, the three men met in the living room before Knute and Jeff left for class.
"This whole thing's gotten way out of hand," Knute said. "I'm a nervous wreck. We gotta let the chick go tonight. She's loving this whole scene more everyday."
"Yeah," Jeff said, "I want out, too. I say we let her go and rent another place quick. You don't seem to mind the idea of gettin' busted for kidnapping anymore, Boyd, but I do. I don't care if you're bangin' the chick or not, and I don't care anymore. She goes!"
"He's bangin' her, all right," Knute said. "Otherwise he'd kick her ass outta here and start going to school again." Knute's eyes were narrowed.
"I'm not banging Janice," Boyd lied, "but we have to keep her for three more days."
"What the fuck for?" Knute said. "You gone insane? Shit, if she stays around much longer, I won't be able to control myself. Everything about that chick is driving me nuts. like she doesn't even wear a bra, for chrisake!"
"And that ass," Jeff said. "She's supposed to be pissed off about being kidnapped, but she keeps fixing our meals and waggin' that ass around!"
"Still, she has to stay for three or four more days," Boyd repeated. He went over and stood staring out the huge window at the wind-twisted trees in the backyard. The wind had blown fiercely last night and he and Janice had lain naked and huddled in each other's arms-safe, protected, happy-whispering a million secrets to each other. What could he tell Knute and Jeff? He didn't want to lose Janice yet, even if they had agreed to resume their relationship openly after all the post-kidnap hullabaloo had blown its course. He had to think fast....
"Uh-the truth is," he lied again, "Janice refuses to leave for a couple of more days. She told me so last night. As you-uh-have noticed, Janice is sort of enjoying punishing her folks with this free gas business." He held up his hands, cutting off Knute's protest. "I know. . . ... I know ... it does sound crazy, but that's the way she wants it ... so we keep her for a few more days before we let her go. You have to admit she's been pretty damned decent through all of this. Very civilized."
"Shit!" Knute said, grabbing his books and heading for the front door. "You've gone completely out of your noodle, man. See you later. Try not to seduce her while we're gone," he said sarcastically.
"Yeah, you finally wigged out, all right," Jeff said, following Knute who had opened the warped wood door.
They both stood glaring at Boyd for a moment, then left for their classes.
"Yoo hoo," Boyd called to Janice. There was no answer. He went into the kitchen. She was not there. Probably she was upstairs. "Buffalo gal, won't you come out tonight?" he sang loudly, staring at the ceiling. No answer. He chuckled, then sang: "Dallas damsel, won't you-
"Be right down," she called.
The toilet flushed and, cupping his hands at his mouth to be sure she heard him, he yelled, "So far we've been to Magic Mountain, Disneyland, two movies, the planetarium, the-
"You don't have to yell," Janice said, smiling sweetly as she appeared at the top of the stairs. "I'm not deaf and, also, you sing out of tune. As an ex-violinist, I assure you, you're flat."
"You're not," Boyd said. "Come down here at once."
She did and he took her in his arms, growling. "The classy, rich girl looks and smells sharp this morning. Where do you want to go today-after we make love, I mean? Never mind. I just thought of a place. Today we're going to the Griffith Park Zoo. You'll love it. The wind blew all the clouds away and it's a beautiful day. Get your dark glasses and beret and let's split."
Janice obeyed, and minutes later they were getting into Boyd's beat-up Chevy. With the dark glasses and her hair tucked up under the beige beret Janice Bambridge could have been anybody. It was a perfect disguise. She coughed, waving the gasoline fumes away as they chugged down the hill. "This car is going to kill me," she said, moving over close to him. "I can't stand this weird car, BoydI mean, I really can't bear it much longer, darling. Kee-riisst! Fuck this car!"
"You can buy me a Rolls someday."
"I just may do that. Gawd ... anything but this!"
"Hey, we forgot to make love!" Boyd said.
"Don't worry about it," Janice said, placing her hand on the inside of his leg. "We'll make up for it later."
At the zoo, they wandered up and down the asphalt-covered hills and stared at the lethargic animals behind the bars. Janice did not like to see caged animals. "They remind me of me before I met you," she said, and insisted on concentrating on the larger animals who had more room to roam in their spacious enclosures and seemed almost free.
It was nearly I:00 when they went over to the park proper and lay on the grass in the shade near the big merry-go-round. A group of blacks were pounding on bongo and conga drums some fifty yards away, and the blend of the drum rhythms with the metallic tinkling of the carousel created an almost futuristic-sounding kind of musical gibberish. Yes, it was something to consider ... this oom-pah-pah of the Viennese waltz mingling with the primitive thumping....
They listened, fascinated, delighted by the squealing children on the merry-go-round and the undulating folks having fun with their drums. "I hear a distant rumble," Boyd said, winking. "Boom!"
"What a terrific place for an oil well," Janice said evenly. "Let's erect an enormous oil well right next to the merry-go-round-and fuck the park up royally!"
"Cut it out," Boyd said. He pulled her to him and they lay on their sides, very close together. "This is what I always wanted to do," Boyd whispered in her ear. "I always wanted to lie in a park with a beautiful girl this way so that everybody-mostly envious males-would wonder what I was telling the beautiful girl and just how in hell I deserved to be so lucky. You see, I was always on the other end, looking in, but now the situation is reversed. Do you think anybody's wondering what I'm saying to you?"
"Probably," Janice said. "I used to wonder about that, too. Shall we fuck right here and really blow their minds? No. Cancel that. I forgot about the children. I wouldn't want them to fall off their wooden horsies." She ground her hips at him and said, "Ummm. I know somebody who is getting a hard-on, Boydie."
"What the hell do you expect? You think I'm made of wood or something?"
"Nope. Not at all. I know better. You're made of flesh and blood, all right," Janice said.
"Boyd, I want you to go and see your girl friend. I want you to go and see this Joanie Hildreth tonight or tomorrow night and settle things once and for all."
"I don't want to," Boyd said. He wished she hadn't brought Joanie up again.
"But I want you to. Your sister invited you over for dinner and I think you should go. You shouldn't turn her down. Your folks want to see you. Joanie Hildreth will be there, and I want you to go."
"Screw my sister. Tracy doesn't have any business meddling in my life. To hell with her invitation," Boyd said.
"You're wrong," Janice said. "I know Tracy pretty well, remember? She loves you and she wants what is best for you. Go and have dinner with Tracy and Joanie and your folks tonight. Tell Tracy about us."
"Come on," Boyd said. "Don't be ridiculous. Tell her I kidnapped her friend?"
"Yes. If you're totally honest, she'll understand. Tell her everything, just like it is. Look, you're just like my parents. They think they know me, but they don't. Well, you think you know your sister, but you really don't. Believe me, I know Tracy and she isn't a prude. She's got more brains and genuine understanding and compassion than' both of us put together. Have dinner with your folks, tell Tracy in private about us, and then get this Joanie alone and tell her it's off between the two of you once and for all. It's not being cruel ... it's being kind in the long run. I'm a girl, remember? I know about these things. I-I don't even care if-if you make love to the girl, but you have to break it off if you want it to be right between us. Will you do that?"
"Will I?" Boyd asked, rolling over on his back. Except for a few puffs of cloud, the sky was clear. "I don't know why you put it in the form of a question. It sounds more like an ultimatum."
She raised herself, scooting forward so that her breasts hung directly over his own chest and she was staring down intently into his eyes. She was not using her charms as a weapon, but she was very serious. "She's a childhood sweetheart, Boyd, and you either marry childhood sweethearts or you set them free. What you've been doing to her is very unfair. Tracy and I have discussed this, Boyd. You didn't know that, did you? Yes, your sister and I discussed you long before we ever met, my love."
Boyd stared at Janice incredulously. "Women," he said. "Wow! When are you girls going to take over the world?"
She tickled him beneath the chin. "Soon, but not immediately." She laughed. "No, honey man, I'm not trying to give you orders. I'm not trying to be the dominant female. I'm really stating-at least I hope I'm stating-what is truly best for both of us. Joanie Hildreth too.
Would you do what mama asks? Hmmm?" She brushed the hair back from his forehead. "Hmmm? Would you?" she cooed. "Please? Won't you please do this for me, darling?"
"Oh, my God!" Boyd said, shaking his head. "This is the goddamnedest, heavy-handed, blatant, female con job I ever witnessed in my life. I mean, just how obvious can you be? Hell, why don't you just take my cock out and start playing with it, for chrisake? You might as well."
She pursed her lips in a kiss, touched her lips with her fingertips, then pressed her fingers to his mouth. "I would if we were at the house," she said. "You know I would."
"Yes, that's true. Well, I want to go on record right now. You're too damned obvious. You're transparent. I can see right through your female, manipulative tactics and-and you know damned well that I'll do what you're asking."
"Of course you will," Janice said, "but don't fret. You're not less of a man because you let me persuade you. In fact, you're more of a man, .and that's why I love you. You know what I'm saying is true and that's why you let yourself be persuaded."
"Such bullshit," Boyd grumbled. "And you can stop toying with my hair now. You've already achieved your evil end." He sighed. "Well, do I get a-a kiss for allowing you to get your way? Goddamnit! Who do men sell their souls to purring-voiced, curving females and love every second of it?"
She pressed her slightly open mouth to his and purred so that her lips buzzed against his. When she broke the kiss, she said, "You just answered your own question, sugar." She was being playful now-just a trifle superior and worldly with the "sugar." Her eyebrows were raised and she was gazing down at him almost maternally. "Yes, you 'sell your souls' to us on certain occasions because it pleases you. When you love us, you like to make us feel good by knowing we have power over you, which we do. You see, it has to do with mamas and papas and lots of other things. It has to do with-"
"Cut it out!" Boyd pleaded. "I surrender. I know when I'm outclassed."
She ignored him and went on. "However, you males wield an awful lot of power over us, too. Yes, much of the time you are absolute rats. Especially when you've got plenty of sex-you know, not horny-and your jobs are going dandy and you really rule the roost. My mother and I have dwelled on this at length. It's the only area in which we've really communicated. Another theory I have is-"
"Aaiiiieeeeee!" Boyd screamed quietly in mock horror as he jumped up and ran toward the merry-go-round. He glanced over his shoulder and was delighted to see Janice in hot pursuit. Finally, he came to a halt in front of the ticket booth. "Two ... no make that six tickets," he said as Janice came up beside him. He paid the ticket lady, and they stood waiting for the merry-go-round to stop.
"Here," he said, handing her three tickets. "These are for you. I'm your superior in the C.I.A. and these are your reward for doing a terrific Mata Hari number on that dumb ass hole you were lying with back there on the grass. Good work. You twisted that dumb hick around your little finger."
"Thanks, chief," she said.
They both watched the merry-go-round go 'round, watched the parents watching their kids' beaming faces as they rode the wooden ponies.
"I'm not going to like leaving you alone with Knute and Jeff," Boyd said. "You've really been turning them on sexually and I don't think it's a good idea to leave you alone with them." He had to yell slightly over the merry-go-round music. "No, I don't like the idea at all. Knute's really capable of overpowering you. I mean that. I know him."
"Don't worry," Janice yelled back. "I'll stay in your room and lock the door. I-I'll stay pure for you, honey man. Don't you worry. You just call Tracy and tell her you're coming over for dinner!"
Boyd .found himself yelling even though the merry-go-round had stopped. He glanced about sheepishly, embarrassed. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's get on. I'll call Tracy when we get to the house."
It was 7:15 when Boyd arrived at his parents' house-the house where he. had resided most of the years of his life. As he walked briskly up the narrow brick path past the tree roses and the bird bath, the lawn he had mowed a thousand times as a boy, he wished that he could turn and flee back to Janice. He dreaded telling Joanie Hildreth that the little wedding chapel she had envisioned since puberty-the one with all their friends standing outside and throwing rice-had come tumbling down. As he stepped onto the porch, he glanced next door at the Hildreth house. It too had tree roses; he hated tree roses.
Inside, his mother hugged him maternally and happily, pleased that her boy was home, while his father stood by, his pipe in his mouth, waiting to shake his son's hand with restraint. Joanie waited too-beaming and looking exactly like a girl who had lived all her life next door to the boy she would one day marry. Tracy looked like Tracy-freckled-faced like her brother but very pretty and intelligent-looking in her faintly tinted rimless glasses. The place reeked of home cooking and Boyd's father's pipe tobacco.
Boyd kissed them all, except his father. At dinner Boyd ate heartily, glad to see his folks but missing the easy camaraderie of the army mess hall. He felt very ill at ease.
When the meal was over, Boyd said he had to speak to Tracy in private and they went for a walk. He told her everything as they walked the simple neighborhood streets. To his surprise, she did not panic. In fact, she became frighteningly silent.
"Let's sit down, Boyd," she said. "I have to sit down."
They sat down on the curb. "Don't hate me, sis," Boyd said. "Janice and I are in love. True, I had to kidnap her in order to establish the relationship, but everything's going to be all right. She'll be back at school in a few days and nobody will be the wiser."
Tracy stared at him, squinting in disbelief behind her glasses. "Boyd, you kidnapped Janice ... kidnapped her! The whole country's been talking about this, and-and you're the one who did it!" She clasped her hands together nervously. "To think Janice is up there in that awful house right now with those two awful roommates of yours. See? I knew something was wrong. I knew it! Remember when I called you? Something told me your sudden interest in Janice Bambridge was strange. Those freakie roommates of yours-ohhh!"
Boyd put his hand on her shoulder. She was trembling. "Look, she's perfectly okay. You can even telephone her if you don't believe me-I mean, you could call me and I'd let you talk to her. Look, the main thing is that Janice and I are in love-really. The worst thing that could happen is we'd get caught before we release her, right? Well, we're not going to get caught, and even if we were caught, Janice would claim she was in on the kidnapping so we wouldn't get prosecuted."
Tracy just stared down at the asphalt as if she didn't hear him. "Insanity," she muttered. "Free gasoline for veterans ... sheer insanity."
"But it's really a lot simpler than that, sis. We let her go, see, and then she just says she was blindfolded and doesn't know anything about anything. That's the end of it."
Tracy shook her head. "Boyd, the FBI, just doesn't forget about such things. You've cost Janice's father millions of dollars! You've done a terrible thing in the eyes of the law."
"True, but we're just going to forget all about it and live happily ever after. It will be one of the great unsolved crimes of the century. Will you please just relax and stop worrying? Hell, Janice is the one who asked me to talk to you. Afterward, once she's safely back at school, I'll come down to that hamburger stand and you can pretend to introduce me to Janice, like we'd never met before. Then you can leave everything to us. It will be one of the best-kept secrets of all time."
"Don't be so sure. Someday probably Jeff or Knute will get drunk and spill everything. Someday everything will come out."
Boyd stood up, helping Tracy to. her feet. "Come on. I have to tell Joanie I can't see her anymore. Janice insists on that, too." His sister looked dazed, numb.
"Poor Joanie," Tracy said, frowning as they started back for the house.
When they reached the house, Boyd asked Joanie to go for a ride with him. His parents-the happy, consenting elders-looked on with approval as the young couple made their departure. Boyd didn't ask Joanie where she wanted to go. He headed directly up into the hills toward the spot that had been their secret parking place since high school days.
Ten minutes later, he swung onto the dirt clearing that overlooked the city, turned off the switch and set the emergency brake. The night was clear and the lights twinkled brightly below.
"I've missed you, Boyd," Joanie said, sliding over next to him. "It's been a long time. Oh, Boyd," she said, her voice trembling, "why haven't you called?"
Her head rested on his shoulder and her hand touched his leg. "I've been busy," he said evenly. "You know, exams and everything."
Her hand inched up toward his crotch. "You were never too busy before-no matter what," she said. "I know your pattern, honey. I know your needs ... my needs, too. This is long overdue, but-but I wish we didn't have to do it in the car. Can't we go back to your room?
I want us to be in bed. I'm hornier than a billy goat, honey."
Boyd wished she wouldn't call him "honey."
"Not tonight," he said. "Uh-the boys are having sort of a party."
"All right," she breathed, her hand settling on his crotch. "I'll do it anywhere with you. You know that. It's always been that way with us ... anything you want whenever and where-ever you want it." Her hand gently squeezed his rising prick and balls. "Aren't you going to touch met" she cooed.
"Th-there's something I have to tell you," he said, breathing harder. Despite himself, his prick now stood at full attention in Joanie's smooth hand. It was a conditioned response. Their love play had become a steady ritual and the sound of her voice, her very presence produced instant arousal even though he did not wish to be aroused by her tonight. "I must talk to you."
"Later," she said. "You can tell me later. Right now I just want to feel your hands on my boobies and your tongue in my mouth. Rodney is nice and eager tonight." Rodney was her name for his prick. "And he feels so hot and ready in my hand. I'm all ready for you, honey ... ohhh, am I ever ready!"
She sensed his reluctance, but made no criticism about his lack of enthusiasm. Instead, she released her grip on his prick, bent forward, reached behind her back with both hands, and unclasped her bra beneath the white cotton blouse.
"There," she said. "You seem tense tonight, honey, but my boobies will relax you. Rest your cheek on them, cuddle against them, feel them ... kiss them and let them soothe you, honey." Automatically, Boyd found himself complying. She raised the front of her blouse up high about her neck, not even bothering to unbutton it, and pulled his head so that it rested against her warm and heaving bosom. Her breasts were like old friends. He had played with her breasts ever since she had first sprouted them, it seemed. So long ago ... the playing with each other over the years....
He did exactly as she had predicted. He rubbed his cheeks and lips back and forth over the extended nipples and, guiltily, groped at their ripe, full warmth. And then he was drawing the nipples into his mouth while her hand slowly worked up and down the length of his hard-on.
He wanted to break away-wanted to break away and didn't want to break away. He wanted to tell her he could not see her again and he didn't want to tell her. God, how could he tell this girl who had meant so much to him over the years that they were through? Guilt consumed him now because he knew he was using her this one last time before he cast her aside. It was unfair and cruel, but he could not help himself. Thoughts of Janice raced through his mind, but still he continued rubbing and kissing this girl's breasts and letting her play with his rigid shaft.
Joanie groaned, spreading her legs and lifting her dress. Instinctively, he ran his hand over the tops of her smooth legs, then made contact with her silken panties: touched the dampness of her crotch through the sheer material. He shuddered, sighing, and she did not wait for him to take the lead as he usually did.
"Honey," she sighed. "Ohhh, honey!" And she tugged at the top of her panties and pulled them off and tossed them on the floor. Her legs were wide apart then and his hand was on her smooth pussy fur. So familiar . . .all of it so familiar. Could he ever forget the touch and taste of this girl he had known all his life? He did not know, but his finger explored the incredible juiciness of her cunt that had gushed so beautifully for so long for him.
"Yes, you are tense tonight, honey," she said soothingly, lovingly. "Let me make you happy. Play with my puss a little more and then I want to kiss Rodney. I've missed Rodney, honey. He's so hot and hard and pretty ... he's the only cock I've ever loved. You know that, don't you? Ohhh, yes ... there you are, honey, right on my puss with the hand that knows everything I like. Ohhh, yesss...."
Despite himself, Boyd was skillfully rubbing Joanie's clitoris and she was pumping with her hips in a steady rhythm and holding his wrist as always. Familiarity, he thought again. Could he ever escape the relationship they had established over the years? Jesus, it was all so natural and good" with this girl. He tried to tell himself that, after all, it would be good with any attractive female, that a pussy was a pussy, but he knew that Joanie would always be something special to him.
"I'm ready, honey," she announced in her special pre-fuck husky voice. "Want to fuck now? Hmmm? Fuck me, honey."
Boyd did not move to mount her. He just sat, staring down at the city's lights below. He had abandoned her heaving tits and was pondering the possibility of interrupting their fore-play and leveling with her. But of course this was impossible. Her hand was on his prick and now it was too late.
She guessed his mood. She knew all his moods. "I'll suck it first," she said, and then her head was in his lap and her hot-wet lips circling his pulsing, bone-hard prong.
That was Joanie ... always so undemanding ... always so willing to please. But now there was Janice....
But then there wasn't Janice anymore-not for now at least-and there was only the sliding heat of the mouth sucking his prick. He shut his eyes, his head back resting on the seat top and shivered as waves, of indescribable pleasure ran all over his body. Joanie had a habit of mewing and emitting little squeals of pleasure as she dined on his cock. She did so now, and the little whines and squeals mingled with the smacking of her lips as she sucked steadily and lovingly on his tingling rod. It was strange, but when Joanie sucked him-or when he fucked her for that matter-he seemed to get as hard as hard can be and then he seemed to get even harder! It was as though she possessed some magic that pushed his prick to. the absolute limit of its capabilities. And it was the same with her pussy's flow!
He did not want to think of Janice now. No. He did not want to think of her-would not, could not! Not now!
Her mouth was speeding up its tempo, sucking hard, taking his member to the back of her throat, then concentrating skillfully on the lower portion of his bulbous cockhead-the tongue twirling about his foreskin as her head bobbed up and down.
Boyd stopped her just in time. So lost had he been in the ecstatic sensations that assaulted his prick, he had very nearly come in her mouth! That would have been all right-he had done that many times before with Joanie at her insistance-but tonight he felt it would have represented a form of abuse. Gasping, he lifted her gulping mouth from his flesh pole that jerked for relief and held her close.
"Joanie!" he sobbed. "You don't understand. I-I have to-to talk to you!"
"Not now!" she insisted, her body trembling violently. "Fuck me, Boyd! Fuck me now!"
Ordinarily, he would have fucked her at once-slid his begging cock into the furnace of her tight pussy and humped her to delicious completion. But he knew that tonight would be their last time together, and so he wanted to lick once more at the vagina that had given up its virginity to him. He wanted to taste the pussy of this girl who had given herself to him first-who let him do all the things young men dream of doing to a female. Yes, she had been his first and he knew he could never forget her-would perhaps always love her even.
He got down on his knees before her and kissed and tongued the cunt of this girl he had learned to fuck and love so well. Familiarity ... familiarity ... it was all so familiar: the taste of her, the way she moved and sighed and held his head very lightly as he munched on her cunt lips and stabbed at her clit with the tip of his tongue. He groaned as he licked; she groaned too.
She did not have to tell him when to fuck her. A hundred love makings ago he had learned her every need, he guessed. Now he raised up and, holding his engorged prick in his hand, quickly eased it between the juicy and swollen cunt lips until his throbbing member was in to the hilt. She moved her ass circularly, holding his head in her arms and babbling to spur him on. Yes, they knew each other's rhythm all right. They knew just how to fuck to make it last. They fucked, then stopped, then fucked and paused again until they knew they were both ready.
Then, in the home stretch, as Boyd speared hard into the hot depths of her, he found himself remembering the long months of aching need and desire for this girl when he had been overseas-this girl who had waited so truly for him. Her breath-whines were harsh in his ear now and he stabbed almost savagely, hating himself as the familiar, excruciating pleasure began to engulf his being. "Boyd! Boyd!" she was grunting as her arms and legs flailed wildly.
He felt his eyelids let go at their hinges and he nearly cursed aloud as their orgasms struck simultaneously. Oddly, despite their practice and skill, they had never quite come together before. Something in Joanie's makeup delayed her and usually he had to bring her to orgasm afterward with his finger. But not this time. That was too bad, he thought, even as his body jolted and spasmed to completion. Their last time together had to be their best....
When they had repaired themselves and calmed down, Boyd told her he could not see her again. He did not tell her why, and she didn't even cry. She knew he meant it and there was no hope in her voice when she said, "Drive me home, Boyd."
She sat very stiffly, without uttering a word, until they reached her house. "Good night, she said. "Don't walk me to the door.
IX
Totally drained, exhausted, Boyd parked his car in front of the big, two-story house and gazed up at his room window. The light was on. Janice would be there waiting. Guilt welled up inside of him. He had been unfaithful to her and he wondered what he would tell her. True, she had said she didn't care if he made love to Joanie as long as he broke off their relationship for good, but he guessed she hadn't really expected him to give Joanie a goodbye fucking.
He got out and went up the walk to the front door. There was no sound from inside and he had a strange sense of foreboding. It was unlike Knute and Jeff to sit around the house without either the TV or the hi-fi playing He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The living room was dark, only the adjoining kitchen light on. "Knute? Jeff?" he called.
No answer. He went through the kitchen and stood at the foot of the stairs. He thought he heard movement, but he couldn't be sure. "Janice?" he called.
Still there was no answer. Several facts collided within his brain at once: Knute's van had been parked in the driveway and both Knute and Jeff had expressed their "horniness" just that morning! Adrenaline surged through his body and his fatigue vanished as he bolted up the stairs. Just as he reached the top, Knute appeared and blocked his way. His hair was mussed and there was a cocky leer on his big face-the same kind of look he used to get after winning a bar fight, or after the Cong had been repelled and taken severe losses.
"What's your rush, man?" he asked casually. "Why don't you go back down and open a couple of beers and we'll listen to some sounds f
Boyd's heart thumped hard against his ribs. "Where's Janice?" he asked, trying to look beyond his roommate. "And-and where's Jeff?"
"No need to get all excited, baby," Knute said, still obviously blocking Boyd's way. "Janice and Jeff are-well, they're having a little chat. Yeah, they're chatting. You go on back down and open some beers and I'll bring 'em both down in a minute. Go ahead, Boyd."
Knute's eyes looked menacing, the way they looked before he fought. "Hunh-unh," Boyd said. "I'm coming by you and I'm coming by fast. Don't try to stop me."
"Don't try it," Knute said, his hands on his hips now. "Be reasonable. Jeff and I know you been ballin' this chick, so now it's our turn, that's all. It's Jeff's turn now and he's just finishing up."
Boyd sprang forward with all the momentum he could muster, charging with his head low as he mounted the few stairs between them. Knute caught him square in the face with his knee and sent him sprawling halfway back down the stairs.
Boyd dragged himself to his feet, wiping his bleeding mouth with his forearm. "Don't try to stop me, Knute. We never fought before, but this is different. I'll kill you if you don't let me by. I'm going to get to Janice. Now!"
Knute gave a low laugh, but he was breathing hard. "No, you ain't, Boyd. This is one time you won't get your way. You won't kill me ... I'll kill you! You been a lying mother-fucker ... telling us we couldn't touch her while you banged her. Well, now the score's even."
Boyd knew that the only way he could make headway was to throw Knute off guard. "You must have her tied up," he said. "She's a lady. She wouldn't have any part of a dumb fucking animal like you unless she was tied up. No female would." Boyd tried to look relaxed. He brushed leisurely at the front of his shirt.
"You're wrong," Knute said, leering. "After a sensitive ass-hole like you, what she needed was a good fuck by a man-like me." Knute grabbed his crotch with his hand. "Man alive, is that chick's cunt juicy."
Boyd charged again, this time catching Knute off guard. As he reached the top of the stairway, he feinted to the left, threw Knute off balance and caught him on the forehead with his fist. It was like hitting concrete, but the big man staggered back long enough so that Boyd was on even ground at last. Grunting, Knute regained his balance and lunged forward.
Boyd knew he would have to work fast. If big Knute managed to get him within his grasp, it would be all over. Boyd faked a left, then drove his right fist low and straight with all his strength. The blow landed high, caught Knute's ribs and pushed into his soft stomach. There was a whooshing exhale of air, a painful groan and then Boyd caught a glimpse through the open door of Jeff fucking Janice. Nausea mingled with the rage inside him. Janice was flat on her back with her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts. Her mouth was gagged and Jeff was humping her fast, like a rabbit.
Knute was definitely wounded, but he was lurching forward, ready for the second exchange. He threw a roundhouse that missed and hit the wall. He screamed out in pain and Boyd grabbed him by his shirt front, then threw him down the stairs. He stumbled, trying to keep his footing, then landed face first on the kitchen floor and lay still.
Boyd raced into his room where Jeff was raping Janice and hurled him onto the floor. Jeff's undoing was that he couldn't force himself to stop fucking and defend himself. He pulled himself up slowly then, cowering against the window while Boyd began untying Janice. She was stark naked and there was terror in her eyes. As he removed her gag, Jeff whined, "Sh-she asked us to do it to her, Boyd. She s-seduced us ... n-no shit ... the no-good slut asked us to f-fuck her, and then she turned p-prick-teaser, so Knute and I ... we tied her up ... to teach her a lesson!"
Jeff's Sniveling lie was more than Boyd could stand.
"They went crazy!" Janice sobbed. "Boyd! Get me out of here ... please!"
Boyd barely heard her. Rage filled him as he stepped toward Jeff, whose semi-rigid organ still stood out before him. At that instant, Boyd didn't care about anything but revenge. Janice was all right, and now there was this rapist-liar to punish. He had never thought himself capable of extreme violence, but now he knew otherwise. He brought his right knee up fast and hard, caught Jeff's dwindling erection and testicles with one mighty thud, and Jeff slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Janice was on the edge of hysteria as he finished untying her. When she was free, he lifted her to her feet and held her close. "Easy, baby," he said, patting her back. "Come on. I'll help you get dressed and we'll get out of here. We'll go to a motel. I knew I shouldn't have left you here alone with them."
When she was dressed, they got her other things from the closet and went out to the car. Then they were heading down the hill.
"That was the most d-degrading thing in my life," Janice said, staring stonily out the window. "I've heard women talk about rape, but I had no idea ... no idea...."
Boyd turned right on Franklin Avenue to Highland, then turned left. He had no idea where he was going. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked. "Maybe you should get some food and coffee in you before we check into a motel."
She didn't answer. She just went on staring out the window. Finally, she said, "No, I don't want to go to some crummy motel. I think it's time for me to go home now."
Her voice was low and strange. "Home?" Boyd asked. "You mean back to the campus dorm?"
She shook her head. "No, I mean to Newport
Beach ... to Mother and Daddy at their Newport house." She broke into hysterical sobbing. "They-they've been through such hell I What was I thinking of to put them through this?"
"You mean you just want me to drop you off there and-and that's it?"
She muffled her sobbing with her hands at her face and nodded. "Yes, that's it. Everything will b-be all right once I'm with Mommy and Daddy. It's all over-all of it-and now I want to go home."
Something in her voice told him that everything was over between them. He pulled onto a side street, made a U-turn to head back for the freeway, then impulsively pulled over to the curb, killed the engine and turned off the lights. He put his arm around her.
"Look, I'll take you wherever you want to go, but do you think it's a good idea to-to just arrive at your folks' place while you're all shook up? Why don't we spend the night in a nice quiet motel-a hotel even-and then I'll drop you off when you're calmed down tomorrow." He put his hand on her knee.
She removed his hand from her knee and shook her head. Still gasping from her crying spell, she stared out the window into the darkness at nothing. "No, I want to go now. Take me to Mother and Father now."
Boyd stared at her thoughtfully, groping for the right words. He didn't know what to say. He was afraid to say what was really on his mind. Finally, he managed, "Do you still love me, Janice?"
She didn't answer; she didn't nod. Nothing. He sighed deeply, a terrible sense of loss engulfing him.
"I had no idea they would really try to do that to you," he said. "You're the one who insisted I go to my folks' place tonight, remember? If I'd had any idea, I'd never have gone. Janice, please ... say you still love me and everything will be the way we planned?"
She shook her head. "I don't know about anything now. Just take me to Newport."
X
When they reached Newport Beach, Janice directed Boyd as he drove out the Lido Isle peninsula past the large, expensive houses that lined the channel. It was a very "boaty" area and most of the residents had yachts anchored at their own private docks.
"It's just up ahead on the right," Janice said.
Boyd slowed the car to a crawl. "I don't think it's a good idea to drop you right in front," he said. "There may be guards or police around the place."
She nodded. "You're right," she said. "Just pull over and I'll walk the rest of the way."
Boyd swung the car to the curb and parked. He scooted across the seat and put his arm around Janice. He kissed her cheek and put his hand on her knee. "Well, this marks the end of the Janice Bambridge kidnapping," he said. "The lovely rich girl returns to her anxious family. I'd give anything to undo what Knute and Jeff put you through tonight."
She put her hand on his cheek and returned his kisses affectionately. "I'm sorry I sounded so down," she said. "But I wasn't ever raped before. It was like nothing I ever experienced. I wasn't angry with you, Boyd. I do love you."
He had to smile at her apologizing for her post-rape depression. "I understand," he said. "I don't know what awaits me when I get back home. Hell, maybe Knute and Jeff ll have to go to the hospital ... I don't even care ... I really went out of my head when I saw them doing that to you. The main thing is you're all right and now you'll be with your family."
"Yes, that's all that matters," Janice agreed.
Under the street lights, Janice looked as if she had been through hell. Her eyes were red and her face looked puffy and swollen. He touched her face with his palm and ran his hand through her hair.
"Is the plan still-the same? Is Tracy going to pretend to introduce us so we can start out again just like any other guy and girl dating?"
"I-I don't see why not?" she said. "Yes ... yes ... just as we planned."
Something in her voice told Boyd that she had serious reservations. There was nothing he could do about it, though. He would have to wait and see what happened. Impulsively, he grabbed her and hugged her hard.
"No matter what happens, I'll always love you," he said. "You've been the most important thing that ever happened to me. If only it hadn't ended the way it did."
"But it did," she said, forcing a smile that told him nothing would ever be the same between them. "Well, I'd better go now."
"All right. I'll walk you partway."
He reached over the backseat and got her things, then they got out and walked slowly down the narrow sidewalk. The ocean air was chilly and a slight fog was rolling in. Boyd inhaled the damp air deeply, filling his lungs and wondering how he would survive without Janice. Suddenly he didn't want her to leave him. Saying goodbye to Joanie and then seeing Janice getting raped-both in the same night had taken a terrible toll on him.
"Maybe I'd better leave you here," she said. "The house is just up ahead."
"Right." He wanted to grab her and take her with him, but he knew he could not.
She faced him and they embraced tenderly, without passion. Suddenly two men dressed in suits stepped from the shadows across the street and walked briskly toward them. When they were very close, one of the men drew a gun and pointed it at Boyd. "It's her!" he said.
"Don't move!" the other man commanded. "Stay right where you are and put your hands over your head! FBI."'
Boyd obeyed and stood there while the man frisked him. Two more men came running down the street and the first man repeated loudly. "It's her! We got her!"
Two men were holding Boyd now while a third clamped handcuffs roughly around his wrists.
"Get him in the car quick," one man said, "and get the girl to the Bambridge house!" He grabbed Boyd hard by the shoulder as his confederates hurried Janice to the car. "Anybody else with you?" he asked, nervous and excited, glancing about him as he kept the gun trained at Boyd's throat.
Boyd knew true terror for the first time in his life-more fear than he had experienced in Vietnam. "No, I-I'm alone," he stammered. "Janice!" he screamed then. "Janice! Tell them it wasn't a kidnapping. Tell them you were in on it with us! Tell them!"
The men with Janice stopped and let her turn to face him. He couldn't hear what they were asking her, but he did hear" Janice say that all she wanted to do right now was see her parents. She got in the car then and drove away.
"Janice!" Boyd screamed. "Tell them! You promised to tell them!"
But it was no use. Janice was gone. In a moment, another car braked screechingly to a halt and two men forced Boyd into the back seat.
It was two days later when Boyd was led out to the visiting area. Exhausted from lack of sleep and constant questioning, he walked with a hound dog slouch as the jailors led him to three lawyers who sat grim-faced behind the low partition. He slumped into the wood chair and waited.
"Mr. Keller, you'll be pleased to hear that you are not being charged with kidnapping," one of the men said. '-'The Bambridge family has seen fit to be lenient with you. There will be a lesser charge, of course, but you're off the hook as far as kidnapping is concerned. Your roommates-Jeff Barker and Knute Brunsgaard--are not so fortunate. They're being charged with kidnapping. Please understand that this leniency is due to Miss Bambridge's intercession on your behalf. She has explained that you were a pawn in all of this and, in fact, you were returning her to her parents' home unbeknownst to Mr. Barker and Mr. Brunsgaard when you were apprehended."
He paused, pursing his lips and blinking rapidly. "You don't seem particularly relieved at this news, Mr. Keller."
Boyd studied the three well-dressed men and their briefcases. "I don't know what I feel at the moment," he said. Then, "Yes, naturally
I'm relieved. I'm glad to hear I'm not officially a kidnapper. Sure."
The shortest man of the three-jowly, obese, and partially bald-cleared his throat and said, "We want to impress upon you, Mr. Keller, that nobody is being charged with rape. In fact, the subject of-uh-rape will not even be raised at the trial. You can surely see the Bambridge family's position in this. Rape is a messy business for a girl to endure in court. The publicity, the trauma-all of it-only tends to damage a girl's reputation. Are you agreed that the subject of rape will not be raised at all-not mentioned even in passing?"
Boyd nodded. "Yes, I understand."
"Good," the short, fat man said. "It is highly important that you do understand. In fact, it may very well-uh-influence the severity of the charges against you and, ultimately, your sentence ... if there is a sentence."
He emphasized the "if there is a sentence" so that Boyd understood perfectly what he meant. He seemed to be implying that Boyd might go scot-free if the news that Janice Bambridge had been raped remained a secret. It all fell into place. Boyd understood it all. He nodded.
"Did Miss Bambridge send any message to me?" he asked.
The three men exchanged glances, and then it was the third man's turn to speak. "No. There is no message," he said. "And there will be no message or communication whatsoever from Miss Bambridge. I am glad you brought the subject up, Mr. Keller, because the subject of you and Miss Bambridge communicating or ever contacting each other again is most relevant to your welfare. You see, the Bambridge family is willing to reduce the charges against you only if you assure them that you and Miss Bambridge will never see each other again. This is also Miss Bambridge's wish. Again, do you understand the significance of what we are telling you?"
Boyd nodded. "I understand. Nobody's supposed to say anything about rape-not even think the word-and I never see or talk to Janice again."
"Exactly," the man said, smiling. "You seem to have acquired a perfect grasp of the situation."
"Oh, yes," the short, fat man interrupted. "Possibly the most important thing of all is that this conversation we are now having is completely confidential. In other words, we are not guaranteeing you anything in exchange for the promises you are now making."
It occurred to Boyd that they must be taking him for an idiot not to fully understand exactly what they were telling him with all their abstract mumbo jumbo. All they were telling him Was not to mention rape and never to see Janice again. If he did this, they were saying that he would save his ass. As for Knute and
Jeff, he wasn't supposed to worry about them. He wasn't supposed to care whether they got life imprisonment as long as he went free. Finally, he wasn't supposed to tell anybody they were going to go easy on him because it was unethical and maybe even illegal.
Boyd stood up. "Okay, I gotcha," he said, trying to hide the hurt he felt that Janice had no personal message for him. "Can I go now?"
All three of them stood up. "Of course," one man said. "Any further questions?"
Boyd shook his head, then frowned. "Oh, yeah, what about bail? I mean, can I get out of here, or do I have to stay locked up until the trial?"
"You'll have to discuss that with the legal counsel your family has engaged."
"You mean my lawyer."
"Correct," the short man said.
"Thanks." Boyd turned to leave.
"One thing more you might be interested in, Mr. Keller."
"Yes?"
"In view of what you have told us here-the cooperation you are apparently willing to extend-it is very-likely that you will not have to stand trial at all, Mr. Keller-except as a witness, of course."
"Oh?"
The lawyers all seemed to be smiling very secret and complicated smiles. "Yes, the Bambridge family has instructed us to be just as lenient as your attitude permits," the tallest of the trio said. "And your attitude seems excellent. I'd say it was very much to your advantage that you befriended Janice Bambridge. The Bambridge family is both powerful and merciful. That's all. Good luck." And with that, the three men, who spoke so formally and precisely, took their leave. Boyd was freed on bail that afternoon.
That same evening Boyd sat in the living room of the big, two-story house with Joanie Hildreth. Knute and Jeff were still in jail and the house seemed frighteningly empty. It was hard to believe that this house had recently housed an oil heiress who had been the object of a nationwide search. Boyd sipped his beer and stared up at the ceiling.
"Well," Boyd said to Joanie who sat beside him on the couch, "it all seems like a bad dream now. like some monstrous fairy tale."
"At least you're free," Joanie said. "You did a terrible thing, but everything's going to be all right now. I forgive you, Boyd ... I still love you."
"Thank God," Boyd said. "I don't know what I'd do if you didn't." He leaned over and kissed her on the neck. "I don't deserve you, Joanie. I really don't."
"Yes you do," she said. "Come on. Stop torturing yourself. You had too much time to think in jail. You've got to stop thinking about Janice and the kidnapping now."
"You're right," he said, nodding. "Jail's a weird place. You get a lot of time to think. I don't know how guys stand long stretches in the penitentiary." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch for a moment. "Do me a favor and let's not ever discuss Janice Bam-bridge again, all right? I don't think you and I should ever talk about her again."
"Okay," Joanie said. She snuggled closer to him and said, "Let's take our clothes off and lie naked here on the couch."
"Good idea," Boyd said.
They stood up, quickly disrobed and then lay back down on the couch naked, Boyd fondled her breasts and she played with his prick for a while. Then Boyd raised her knee up on top of his hip and slipped his organ into her pussy.
"Sorry to be so abrupt," he apologized. "But it seemed like a nice thing to do. We can just lie here with my prick inside you and talk and forget about everything but us."
"Ummm," Joanie said. "I think it's a wonderful idea. It-it's good to have you back where you belong-right inside me."
"When all this is over, I want us to get married, Joanie. You'll have to continue working until I finish school, but then I'll get a good job and take care of you forever," he said.
"Yes, Boyd. Ohhh, yesss!"
"I think I'm the most selfish person in the whole world," he said. "Do you think I'm more selfish than anyone?" He began moving, thrusting his pulsing organ ever so gently as far into her warm pussy as possible.
She matched his thrusts, moving in an easy rhythm. "Well, maybe not more selfish than anyone" she said, her breath coming faster. "B-but you are selfish. That's okay though. I-I'm selfish, too. like right now. I want you all to myself ... I don't care about anything but us. I've wanted you ever since I was a-a little girl."
"I know," Boyd said, palming her erect nipples and clutching her slow-moving buttocks. "And I've always wanted you, too. It-it's just that I lost my way recently. I-I was t-tempo-rarily insane. Yes, insane. Think of it as t-temporary insanity."
"Shhh," she said. "Let's forget about it. It's all in the past, I forgive you. Let's just fuck."
Boyd ceased his pumping and let his organ just rest in the heat of the scalding pussy. He liked to do that sometimes-just let his member smolder there in the hot-wet female furnace. He made his prick jerk in a series of little rhythms and Joanie answered with a series of cunt clenches.
"Hey, do you remember before you started taking the pill and I had to screw with a rubber all the time?" Boyd asked. "That was really something."
"I remember," she said. "Nice for me, but not so good for you, huh?"
"No, not so hot-not so hot at all. Ummm, what a nice hot pussy you have, girl. I never want to stray away from this be-uuu-teee-fulll pussy of yours."
"I never want you to stray either. Ohhhh, why don't you get up on top and really fuck me? This slow stuff will drive me crazy."
"Me too," Boyd said.
He put her left leg out so that it rested on the crate that served as a coffee table, turning her onto her back at the same time, and mounted her properly. He probed at her vagina a bit faster now and bent his head so that he could suck on her nipples as they fucked. His neck soon tired though, and so he had to content himself with squeezing her tits with his hands as they fucked.
After several minutes of steady humping in this position, she asked him if he wanted her to get up on her hands and knees and do it dog-style. That was one of her favorite positions. She liked it because he could reach around and fonr'le her hanging tits and bite the back of her neck at the same time. Getting bit on the neck and having her nipples lightly pinched at the same time drove her pleasantly insane.
"Ohhh, pinch them harder, honey ... harder ... harder ... Yesss!" she chanted, wagging her ass back and forth as he speared her hard from the rear.
"This is good fucking," Boyd said, knowing that this was possibly the most unnecessary statement ever uttered. Nevertheless, he always said it to Joanie, and invariably she always-not surprisingly-answered in the affirmative.
"Ummm, yesss ... the very best. It is good fucking, honey!"
"Do y-you want to finish this way?" he asked, gasping.
"Why d-don't I get on top?" she asked.
She sometimes had a better orgasm that way. When she got on top of him, she was often able to finish that way instead of having him make her climax with his finger after he'd finished.
"Fine," he said. "Come on. Get on top." They shifted positions quickly, and then she was above him, straddling him, riding his shaft the way a cowboy rides a bucking steer. Their tempo was fast now-flat out-and she kept clutching at her stomach as if she could feel his organ with her clawing hand. Her head began tossing back and forth, and she bent far back as though she would like to break his organ off and keep it for her very own.
. Boyd placed both hands on her hips and speared her harder, riding and rolling just the way they both wanted it. By now, his stomach was covered with her lubricant and, bucking, writhing, it seemed as though they were both experiencing perpetual orgasms. "Fuck, baby, fuck!" he commanded.
Her little squeal-shrieks quickened and she reached behind her and grasped Boyd's balls lightly and jiggled them. "Give it to me!" she begged. "Give me your come! Shoot it up inside me!"
There was no thought of Janice Bambridge now. The girl he'd imagined he loved and who he felt had betrayed him was a thing of the past and he concentrated gratefully on this woman who had been loyal and true to him for as long as he could remember. "Joanie," he groaned softly.
His orgasm neared, hut he knew the thoughts that now collided in his skull were more than sex-inspired thoughts of the moment. No, they were more than transitory. His brain was filled with thoughts of permanent alliance with this woman he was now fucking. Joanie would always be his woman; he knew that now. "Joanie! Joanie!" he called out loudly now.
He could hear the wetness of their organs and Joanie's voice rose shrilly, informing him of her impending orgasm. Yes, she was coming now-coming right there on top of him-and he was coming, too. He raised his buttocks high from the couch with each mighty thrust, slamming his member into her with all his strength....
And then it was over and she collapsed with her breasts pressed hard against his chest, sobbing out the aftermath of her intense climax.
Perhaps five minutes had passed before their breathing had returned to normal. "Come on," Boyd said. "Let's go upstairs and go to bed. I Want you to stay here with me tonight."
They got up and walked to the foot of the stairs. Joanie paused, reluctant to take the first step. "I-I don't know if I can," she said, pleading with him to understand with her dark brown eyes. "She slept up there with you, didn't she?"
"Who?" he asked, taking her hand. "I told you that as far as I'm concerned, she never existed. I don't ever want to speak of her again. From now on, it's just us."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but Joanie Hildreth was smiling happily as she led the way up the stairs to Boyd Keller's room.
