Jay Ballard watched the provocative sway of Karen's luscious figure, his eyes devouring the soft, rounded protuberances of her buttocks, as she turned away from his desk and went through the connecting door to the outer office, to usher in a prospective client.
The sexuality that Miss Forrester exuded reminded him, acutely, that he'd have to get to know her better... and soon, if things in the bedroom department at home didn't begin getting better, in the next few days.
Karen was just finishing up her first week as his private secretary, and she seemed to like her job. He wondered, idly, if she'd like her job better... if he could offer her some attractive fringe benefits...
His reverie was interrupted by the young giant who came through his office door. The boxer was even bigger, it seemed to Jay, than when he'd witnessed the man's last bout.
It had taken place last week, at the Olympic. Jay had been there, in the fifth row, watching Arnie Pearson, fighting at a trim two hundred and thirty-five pounds, as he had out-pointed and out-fought his opponent, decking him twice, before finally putting him away, decisively, in the ninth round with a clean knock-out. Jay remembered it had been Arnie's devastating left hook that had put BoBo Wilson on the canvas for the full count.
The fight had been clean. BoBo Wilson had been the odds on favorite, but Pearson, knowing that he was fighting one of the most important fights of his career, had carried the fight, pressingly, to the older, ring-wise Wilson... and had won it, fair and square. No one questioned that he was now in a good position to demand a bout with the champion. Arnie Pearson was now the principal contender for the Heavyweight Boxing Title.
"Arnie!" Jay was out of his seat, extending a lean, sun-bronzed hand in greeting. "It's good to see you... but aren't you out of your element... coming to see me...?"
A slow, friendly smile spread across the big fighter's heavy-featured face; his deep-set, widely spaced, blue eyes were troubled. His gaze was direct, as he studied the private investigator's face. He took the seat Jay pointed to and sat up ramrod straight in it, his body tense, unrelaxed.
"Well, Mr. Ballard... I haven't been robbed of the family jewels... yet..." he joked, lamely, his face settling into grim lines.
Jay laughed, heartily, while Arnie grinned, now, shyly, pleased that he, at least, appeared to be light-hearted. The detective surveyed the blonde giant across the desk from him and knew he could like this man. There was that easy-going directness about him... and there was the demonstrated ability to remain cool and collected, under stress. He had shown that several times in some thirty professional bouts.
"I saw your last fight... with BoBo Wilson..." Jay mentioned, trying to feel out the reason for the boxer's visit to his office.
"That's great... I'm awfully glad you did. It was a hard fight all the way... believe me! Wilson's a good man... a good fighter... hard to beat... one of the best in the business!" Arnie said. "... But, according to some people... I was supposed to lose that fight!"
"Well... I don't think Wilson had a chance... from the opening bell... even if he was favored, by the bettors!" Jay told him. "You were in good condition... and you were right in there, every round... carrying the fight to him... putting on the pressure..."
"Thanks... Mr. Ballard... but I'm..."
"Just call me Jay..." the detective interrupted.
"Okay... Jay, then..." He showed obvious tension at being interrupted. "... But as I was saying... I'm talking about people... that wanted me to lose it... on purpose!" Arnie got it out. His face was unsmiling, his big, square jaw set.
"You mean... somebody wanted you to throw that fight?"
"Yeah... that's it!"
"... But that doesn't make sense! BoBo was the man to put money on...! Why would anybody want you to take a nosedive...?" Jay queried.
Arnie looked down at his sinewy hands. He balled them into hard fists, before he looked back up at Jay, his intense blue eyes looking directly into Jay's brown ones.
"That's what bothered me, too... but afterwards, when I started thinking about it... it does make sense... if they had BoBo tied up... and he were the contender, instead of me...!"
Rubbing both hands up over his greying temples, Jay thought about it. "If I follow you... what you're saying is they, whoever that is... are looking forward to the next championship fight!"
"It figures... if they've got the title-holder tied up... too... doesn't it?" Arnie spat his words out fast, wanting confirmation of what he thought about it.
"Christ... do you know what you're saying...?" Jay questioned.
"I sure as hell do! I'm the question mark... because they couldn't get to me!" Arnie shot back. "... And, now I'm ruining their plans for a real killing on the title bout!"
"You mean they tried to buy you off, somehow?"
"Yeah... but I won't take their filthy money!"
"Now, they're threatening you...?"
"... And... blackmailing me!"
Jay whistled, thoughtfully, and asked, "... So, why are you coming to me...? The police could give you protection... and the Boxing Commission could look into the bribe attempt... and blackmail doesn't work, usually..."
"Yeah... but they've got pictures... that could ruin my marriage!" The fighter looked away, temporarily, feeling the guilt return to surge through him.
"So... that's it! They set you up... and got it all on film?"
"Well, hell... it was right after the fight! I was at this party... and met a girl... and... well, you know... one thing leads to another... and she takes me to bed!" Arnie defended.
"I understand all that... but where was your wife, Arnie?"
"She didn't come out here... for the fight," the big man explained. "She doesn't want me to fight... anyway..."
There was a long silence. Jay was digesting information, and he did understand, perfectly, how he had fallen into the trap.
Arnie went on, explaining further, "My trainer's kind of old-fashioned, you know... and whenever I go into training... I've got to live almost like a monk... for maybe two months before every fight. Hell... about the only thing left is a hand-job... every now and then!"
"If your wife were around... you couldn't have had her anyway... is that it?"
"Yeah... for all practical purposes!"
Jay nodded, still thinking. "Now," he said, "we've got to pin something down. You keep saying, 'they'... and you haven't told me who 'they' are!"
There was a moment's hesitation on Arnie's part, before he said, morosely, "That's just it... I don't know who the hell it is! If I did," he went on ominously, "maybe I could do something about it!" His big hands clenched and unclenched, with his emotion.
"Is that where I come in, then...? You want me to find out who's putting the pressure on you?"
"Yeah... that's right... that's why I came to see you, because I've only had some goons... with guns... come around... with their threats... and..."
"... And, the pictures...?"
"Yeah..."
"Let's start there, then... tell me about this gal you balled... everything you can remember about her... where you met her... where you went... what you did... and especially, the place you went... to climb into bed with her!"
Arnie Pearson was game. He told Jay Ballard everything he could remember about that night.
It had been jubilant and hectic in Arnie's dressing room, right after the fight. Frantic fans had crowded into his dressing room to congratulate him, and it had taken a long time to clear the room, so he could get his rub-down and get dressed.
There had been, perhaps, as many as ten invitations to parties... and Arnie was not sure how it had happened that he ended up going to a posh party in Newport. Maybe it was because of the woman who had given him the invitation. She had pressed in close to him, as he had backed into his dressing room, trying to answer news reporters' questions and being filmed for a T.V. news release. Flash bulbs had been popping, and the noise had been tremendous, the press of the crowd almost unbearable... but she had stuck with him, shouting in his ear about her party and pressing a piece of paper into his still bandaged hands. That wasn't the only message he had gotten from her. She had been busy, down below, as she had undulated up against him, her loins tight against his thigh. It was an invitation that had been hard to pass up... after all he had been pretty hard up... and when a voluptuous woman makes it that plain... Hell! What could he do...?
He had hung onto the address... and after his rub-down and shower, he had dressed, gotten into his rental car and had driven down to Newport.
The party was going strong when he arrived... of course, he hadn't known any of the people there. They all seemed to be fans, and he felt comfortable; especially after he had downed the first two drinks, in rapid succession. He was there to have some fun! Christ! After living in a training camp for two months, he had been ready to break out and have himself a real ball... and a party... drinks... a willing woman... were some of the things he wanted for relaxation.
She had been there, of course. Her name was Carla... Carla Reynolds, a ravishing, auburn-haired beauty, with the clearest complexion Arnie had ever seen. He did gather that she wasn't the hostess for the party; she had been sent by someone else... to make sure he would come. Whoever sent her, Arnie decided, had chosen his messenger well... and she hadn't wasted any time in letting him know that that little thigh-rubbing deal in his dressing room was for real.
With a third drink in his hand, Arnie was seated on a plush couch, while the party swirled around them, Carla seated next to him, her long, tapering thigh, nylon-clad below daring hot-pants, pressed in tight against his.
She looked at him over the rim of her martini glass, her grey-green eyes smoldering, provocatively, and said, "Arnie... anytime you're ready... we can split this bash... for some real fun!" Her pink tongue snaked out between her full, sensuous lips and ran in a tiny circle around her lips, while at the same time, her fingers outlined the bulging muscles of his chest.
Arnie was pretty sure what she meant, but he asked, innocently, "Another party... some where...?"
"Sure..." she smiled. "Just you... and me... for some fun and games..."
"Can we run out... on our host... just like that?" he asked. "Which reminds me... whose place is this, because I'm not sure I caught the name... when I came in...?"
"Warren won't mind... I'm sure. He wanted you to come... and meet a few of his guests... which you have... and then just relax and have some fun." She smiled, as her hand dropped down to his thigh, where it caressed him, suggestively.
He tried to remember who Warren was; his memory dredged up the image of a short, square-built man with almost silvery white hair.
"Is Warren the guy with the white hair... only he's not really old...?" he asked, feeling embarrassment at her boldly brazen action. He felt the heat of a blush coming up above his collar.
"Yeah... that's Warren... Warren Ramsey," she affirmed. "He's got money... that doesn't stop... like Fort Knox!" she told him, leaning in close to add, "... But, I don't want to tall about him... it's you I want!"
The throaty seductiveness of her voice, her warm breath washing over him, as she made her point crystal clear to him, caused a natural reaction. Inside his pants, he felt the pounding blood rush into his penis, to be trapped there in a growing erection, while below, the strong sensation of the crawling lift of his balls by his scrotal sac made him fully aware of his demanding sex needs. Christ! He was getting hot, already! Damn! She's not bashful... about it...! So, if she's hot to trot... what in the hell am I waiting for...?
It was a good question. He had never cheated on Joan, before now... but he had known, when he had accepted Carla's invitation to this party... that he would do just that! He'd been angry ever since a week ago, when he'd called his wife on the telephone, trying to get her to change her mind. She was stubborn about it. Under no circumstances would she come to see the fight... and that was that! He could get on a plane and come home, right afterward; she'd be there... waiting for him.
All week long, his anger had seethed, just below the boiling point, and he'd had to fight with himself, not to let it affect his training for the fight... or the fight itself. Then, tonight... when Carla had pressed in close to him, seductively rubbing herself up against him, as she told him about the party, he had made up his mind. To hell with it! I'm not climbing onto a plane, tonight! I'll go home tomorrow... or the next day! He had told his manager, in the dressing room, while he was getting his rubdown, to cancel his flight reservations. He'd reschedule them... in a day or two.
Harry Nash hadn't liked the idea. "That little wife of yours'll go haywire... if you don't get home to her!"
"She can wait a couple of days!" Arnie had growled. "I'm going to take it easy... for a while... sit in the sun on the beach and relax."
"You sure you know what you're doing, Arnie?"
"Just cancel the God damned flight, Harry... and get the hell off my back!" he had barked. "Besides," he had added, "training's over... the fight's over... and I'm a free man... for a while!"
"Okay... Baby... it's your party, now," he told Carla, reaching down to cover her hand on his thigh... before she caused him some real embarrassment... right there, in front of everybody. "Let's get the hell out of here!"
They left Warren Ramsey's house party, together, in his rented car. Carla Reynolds snuggled up close beside him, as he drove, following her directions.
Arnie wasn't sure, exactly where he drove. He had belted down a couple of drinks, and he didn't really care. His impression was that he had driven south, possibly as far as Corona del Mar, where they had wound around through residential streets, arriving at her apartment house, in what seemed to be a very short time... Of course, he wasn't able to concentrate on his driving very well, anyway. Soon after he'd started off, Carla's hands were busy, again, down there, caressing and massaging his thigh, her hand moving up, slowly, tantalizingly... until her tiny hand was between his legs, her fingers teasing his throbbing cock to a fully elongated, aching erection. Then, expertly, she had found the zipper tab. The metallic sigh of the zipper was loud, in the car, as she lowered it... and her smooth, warm, lotion-softened hand wormed its way, knowingly, into his open fly, to find the hardened, throbbing shaft of his cock. She gasped as her exploring fingers found it and brought its turgid length out into the car.
"God... Arnie... you are a big man... in all ways... aren't you?" she crooned, lewdly.
Smiling to himself, glad that she was impressed with his more than adequate manhood, he told her, "Take it easy, Baby... it might go off in your hand!" The exquisite sensations that raced through him, at her touch, made him worry. Christ! It's been a whole two months... since I've fucked a woman!
"I'll take my chances!" she said, then asked, "Why the short fuse...?"
"You must not know much about prize fighters..." he grinned. "I haven't balled a woman... for two months... because of training for this fight!"
"That's terrible!" Carla sympathized. "You mean... you've had no sex... at all... in that time?"
He shifted, uncomfortably, in his seat, but decided to tell her, anyway, "Well... nothing except for a hand-job, now and then... when I couldn't stand it... any longer!"
"It's inhuman... almost like being a monk... or something!" she expostulated.
"Yeah... that's right," Arnie agreed.
"What about in between fights... are you married...?"
He wished, fervently, that she hadn't brought up that subject. There was already too much guilt crowding into him, and he didn't need any extra reminders. Hell! If Joan had only come on out here... like she should have... I wouldn't have to be out looking for a strange piece of ass! He had known that's what he would do... even before Carla had issued her sexy invitation to the party, tonight. Sure! It was wrong...! But, what the hell...! Even if Joan didn't want to watch the fight... she could've been here... waiting to take me to bed... like a good, little wife should!
"Yeah... I'm married... but let's drop that subject!" he growled.
"Okay... Arnie..." she agreed, starting to stuff his warmly jerking cock back into his pants.
"You don't have to drop that!" he grunted, startled.
"There's my apartment house. You can wait... for a couple of minutes... until we get inside, can't you?"
"I suppose I'll have to!" he grinned.
Arnie parked the car, and they went up to her apartment. Once they were inside, Carla led him directly to her bedroom, turned on a small bedside lamp and turned, quickly, to rush into his arms.
He enfolded her lithe figure in his brawny arms, and she came in tight against him, whispering, "Kiss me... Arnie! Kiss me!"
Her face was lifted up to him, and he kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue, demandingly, into her warm, moistly opened mouth as his hands smoothed down her back to the rounded, full moons of her buttocks, sheathed tightly by her scanty hot pants. His steel-banded fingers first cupped the warm resilient flesh, caressingly, then dug into the softness of them, savagely, as his passion-starved body began to react to his great need. An involuntary moan escaped his lips, as his aching penis lurched against the confining cloth of his pants, making a bid for freedom. He felt it standing up, hotly between them, and she was moving her hips in teasingly undulant circles up against it. Then, he was aware of the viscid moisture that seeped from the tiny slit in his cock's head; his natural lubricating fluids were making it feel sticky and moist... and he began to feel the expanding jerk of his cock... almost like... Hell! I'm starting to feel... almost like I'm going to cum... in my pants... like some kid... getting his first piece of ass!
Abruptly, he pulled his mouth away from hers, breaking the hot, deep kiss.
"Christ!" he breathed, urgently. "Let's get into that bed... before I explode!"
Carla leaned back away from him, laughing, still in the circle of his arms, but her loins remained plastered up against him. She gave an extra, tantalizing grind of her hips, in contact with his searingly pulsating cock and asked, "Has it really been two months... since you've laid a woman?"
"Yes... God damn it!"
"Then, you need something else... right now..." She smiled meaningfully -- almost lewdly, as she pushed his big frame back onto the bed. "... And, I'll take care of that... so it'll be more fun... for both of us... later!"
Carla wedged her knees in between his thighs, as he sat on the edge of the bed, then swiftly knelt between them, her hands reaching out to unbuckle his belt and zip down the fly opening of his pants; then, as he lifted himself, slightly, she pulled his pants and his shorts down around his muscular legs.
Eagerly, one of her tiny, trembling hands reached out for the massively erect shaft of his violently jerking cock. Her red-nailed fingers couldn't go around its girth, but she slid the heavy foreskin back over the moist, blood-inflated cockhead, feeling its demanding jerk in her hand. She stared at it in disbelief. It was gigantic!
"Mmn... you are just about ready to explode!"
Tucking his hips under him, Arnie shoved his rampantly spearing cock up toward her, instinctively, wanting it... his desire heightened, even more, by the knowledge of what she intended to do to him... for him!
Then, slowly, Carla lowered her head and kissed the pulsing, smooth, red tip, while her other hand squirmed under him to caress his heavy, sperm-laden testicles.
The warm, smoothness of her sensuous lips, kissing the throbbing head of his lust-filled prick was electrifying, and he thrust up at her lipstick-reddened mouth with animal urgency... wanting it... now!
"Oh, God!" he groaned. "Suck it! Suck my cock... now!"
Her saliva heated mouth came down over it, then, her lips ovalling around the pulsing coronal ridge to enclose the whole of his smooth rubbery cockhead in warmly sensual moistness.
Arnie's needfully throbbing prick jerked, expandingly, in her mouth, and the erotic thought of what she was doing to him... the lewd, salaciousness of it... almost as much as the ecstatically tingling sensations that raced through him, gave him an added feeling of voluptuous expectation.
The shaft of his cock was held in one of her tiny, soft hands, while the other, underneath, kneaded and caressed his balls, gently, her red-lacquered nails scratching across the wrinkled skin, lightly; meanwhile, she had begun to hollow her cheeks, sucking his pulsating cockhead with a strong, steady rhythm, her head beginning to bob up and down, absorbing more of his massive length each time her mouth nibbled downward toward his hairy loins.
Inside her mouth, her tongue swirled around the blood-filled head of his cock, with wild abandon, and he was aware that on every upstroke, she was attempting to worm the tip of her wetly flicking tongue into the tiny slit of the very tip of it.
Arnie tensed his muscular loins and shoved his demanding prick up into her wildly sucking mouth, feeling it plunge, deeply, into her throat, as he began to thrust in rhythmic, counter-movements to her smoothly bobbing head.
In a hypnotic trance of sexual need, lost in a sensual morass of pleasure sensations, he moaned, again, softly, as her nibbling mouth began to move up and down his massive shaft with increasing speed and pressure, her knowledgeable tongue giving a swirling lick to the lust-hardened head of his cock on every upstroke.
Looking down at her face, working over him, he saw that she was in a sexual rapture of her own. Her eyes were closed, and her breath was labored, streaming in and out of her nose, with an audible rasping sound.
Her long, auburn hair was falling down over naked thighs, and he reached out to the glossy sheen of it, with both hands, placing one on either side of her head, to guide her up and down the ever more demanding shaft of his aching cock.
It was fascinating for him to watch, as a little, raggedly pink flange of her moistly sucking lips was pulled out on each withdrawal, then stuffed back in, again, as the hardened rod of his penis slipped into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing in and out, as she sucked, hungrily, on him.
The ever-building sensuality concentrated in the bloated, sensate head of his cock and he could feel its demanding pulse, jerking, expandingly, in response to her tantalizing tongue that swirled over its satiny corona, stimulatingly, on every head-bobbing stroke.
Arnie could feel the searing burn, acid-like, that signaled the nearness of his ejaculation. The agony of his building need to cum surged through him, in ecstatic waves of sensation, his hot sperm demanding its release from his swollen testicles, and he groaned aloud, as he drove his aching cock deep into Carla's mouth and throat.
"Christ! That's it... Just a little more... like that... and I'll cum...! Just... suck it... a little while... longer!"
Raspy, strangling sounds took the place of words... then, he gasped, "OOoooh! AAAaauuggh!" His breath came faster, rasping in and out of tortured lungs. He was almost... ready to cum! Now! Furiously, he fucked his hips up at her face and watched the rigid length of his prick drive, deeply, almost all the way up to his sperm-loaded balls into her mouth. Her nose was buried in the hairiness of his loins... and she took it... all of it, in her mouth and down her throat! God! It felt sooooo good!
... Then, he came! His ejaculation was explosive; the hot, thick sperm jetted the full length of his cock, to spray from the slitted tip of the lust-inflated head deep into moist wet cavern of her voraciously sucking mouth, forcing her to swallow it, desperately.
"Now!" he grunted. "God! I'm cumming! Now!"
His strong hands on her head pulled her mouth down, roughly and hard on his wildly spewing prick, and his loins thrust up, convulsively, at her, securely immobilizing her head, while his cum spewed, hotly, deep into her throat.
... And then, he collapsed, lying back on the bed, his grip on her head relaxing, then releasing, and his hands fell to her shoulders to fondle and caress them. Gradually, his cock became soft and deflated in her mouth, but she continued to suckle and nibble on it until she had consumed the final drop of his semen; then, with a sigh, she allowed the flaccid shaft to pull from her mouth, moistly glistening from her saliva.
Lifting her head, she gazed at him through heavy-lidded grey-green eyes... eyes that conveyed earthy sexiness, and a worldliness, beyond her years. She rose from her kneeling position and crawled up over him to snuggle down beside him, offering him her lips to kiss.
Arnie crushed her lithe body to him and kissed her, darting his tongue into her mouth to taste the lingering male essence of his own cum there. Long and deeply they kissed, their mouths welded together, savoring the sensual communication. Finally, after several moments, Carla pulled away. She looked at him with a glowing anticipation on her face. "That was a pretty good opener... and after you've rested a while... and had a drink we can get to the main course... Okay?"
"Damned right!" he agreed.
"What do you want...?"
"You!" he grinned reaching out for her.
Writhing away from him, she smiled, "So soon? I meant what are you drinking?"
"Bourbon's fine..."
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he watched the provocative sway of her hot-pants clad hips, as she left the bedroom. Damn! She's a sexy little bitch! Exactly what I needed, too! Then, he wondered about her... wondered why she had brought him there. She's been around... but she doesn't fit the picture... of being a whore! He knew, of course, that there were women, who made a point of taking celebrities to bed... And, I suppose I'm that... more or less... now that I've got a shot at the Heavyweight Boxing Title!
He didn't question beyond that. She was his to enjoy... for the evening, at least... and maybe more... if he played his cards right. Hell! Why should I look a gift horse in the mouth?
Bending down, he took off his shoes and slipped off his trousers. His jacket, shirt, tie and undershirt followed, then he lay down, again, on the bed, having retained just his shorts.
Carla came back, carrying tall, cool drinks. She saw him lying there on the bed, relaxed, and looked him over, critically, as she handed him his bourbon and water.
"You know... I was a little bit afraid of you, at first!"
"Why...?" he queried, leaning back against the headboard and taking a healthy swallow of his drink. "I'm just an ordinary guy..."
"When I saw you fight, tonight... it was almost... like you were a trained animal... a trained fighting animal!"
"Boxing's just a skill..." he tried to explain.
"... But, aren't you trying to hurt the other man?"
"Yes... that's part of it. He's trying to do the same to me... too."
"And, you're not angry... at each other?"
"No... of course not!"
"Then... why do you fight?"
"Money... mostly," he answered, truthfully, "but there's the fame... if you make it to the top! I guess that's part of it..."
"Does your wife like for you to fight... Arnie...?"
"No... she doesn't! The only part she likes... is the money!" he grunted. "But I don't want to talk about my wife... right now!"
"What do you want to talk about?"
"You!"
"Why...?"
"... Because, you're here... damn it!"
"... And, available...?" she cooed, seductively, kicking off her boots and stretching out beside him.
"... And, available!" he seconded, lifting his glass for another stiff swallow of whiskey. He felt it warming his belly. That's what he wanted... whiskey and a woman... and it had been too long, since he'd had either. Again, he lifted his glass and drained it. Now... for the woman... to fuck!
Setting the empty glass down on the bedside table, he reached out for Carla, his hand going to the full mounds of her breasts. He felt them, warm smooth and vibrant under her blouse and realized that she was not wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard and elongated, and he felt them spiking into the palms of his hands.
"Christ... let's get you stripped naked!" he grunted, as he began to feel the beginning of a new erection, throbbing warmly into being down between his legs.
She helped him, as he unbuttoned her blouse, shrugging her shoulders, when he removed the flimsy garment to expose her luscious breasts to his lustful eyes.
Her breasts, alabaster white, firmly melon-like, were wide-spaced on her chest, and they pouted, proudly, with the coral nipples standing at alert attention over the darker, crinkled aureoles.
"Beautiful!" he said, with fervent appreciation, as he leaned over her to take a berry-like tip between his lips to suck and nibble, while his hand cupped her other breast, caressingly, his fingers digging into the smoothly pliant flesh. Then, while his lips paid moist homage, hungrily, to the one pinkly erect nipple, his fingers rolled the other, teasingly, causing them both to spear out to even greater hardness. Her little moan of arousal was warm, as her breath washed over the side of his face, and her hands caressed and massaged the heavy muscles of his back.
After a few moments, he slid his hand, exploringly, down over her smooth, flat belly... and found that she still had on her hot-pants. Raising himself up and temporarily abandoning her sensate breasts, Arnie growled, "Come on... Carla, Baby... I want you bare-assed naked!"
"Okay, honey..." she breathed.
Together, they stripped the remainder of her clothing from her. Her panty hose followed her hot-pants to the floor, as Arnie tossed them aside. Now, her perfect body was revealed to him... and his eyes locked on her enticingly rounded hips, mature, marble-white and devoid of suntan lines, their masterfully sculpted curves leading to the downward, sweeping taper of her delectable thighs, to small, dimpled knees. The calves of her perfect legs reversed the long, tapering curve of her thighs and led, easily, to tiny, delicate ankles and narrow, well-formed feet... And, there between the whiteness of her slightly spread thighs, he saw, clearly, the glisteningly moist pink flesh of her vaginal slit, surrounded by softly curling auburn-tinted hair. Her sexual arousal was obviously visible in the tiny droplets of viscid moisture exuded from her cuntal lining that clung to the two budding petals of her inner pussy-lips peeking shyly out at him from the sensitively throbbing little furrow.
Below, he felt the throbbing lurch of his fully erect cock, straining to be freed from his shorts. Damn! I'm hot... again, already...! And, she's ready to fuck... too!
"God! You're lovely..." he choked.
Tiny, mewling sounds came from her lips, as she ground her hips, undulantly, allowing her thighs to splay open a little wider, obscenely revealing the whole of her soft, gently pulsating pussy to his lust-filled gaze.
Fascinatedly, he watched as her slender fingers, the nails red-polished, cupped her own breasts, caressingly, kneading the sensually erect nipples, then her palms lifted the firm, full mounds of them, pointing them at him, almost as though she were offering her breasts to him, as a sacrifice.
Her actions were doing things to him. New, erotic sensations arced in his loins, and his warmly throbbing cock expanded, jerkingly. Christ! I've got to get it in her... now... before it's too late!
... Then, her eloquent hands smoothed down across her flat, whitely smooth belly to her groin, her hands framing the moist furrow of her cunt, where she teasingly spread the cora-line slit to expose the pink, inner flesh of her vaginal opening. Her voice was throatily sultry, as she asked, "Do you want to... fuck me... Arnie, darling...?"
"Hell yes!" he croaked, raspily. "You know I do!"
"... Then... tell me!" she cried, with sudden, impatient urgency.
"I want to fuck you... Baby... and right now!" He reached down and stripped off his shorts, then turned back to her.
Carla's eyes zeroed in on the rock-hard, pulsing shaft of his massive cock and breathed: "How... do you want to... fuck me...?"
"Hard!" he grunted. "Deep... and hard... and fast!"
"Oh, God! That's what I... want, too!" she moaned. "I want you to fill me up... with cock, Arnie... until I can't breathe!"
Arnie rolled over on top of her, his hips wedging down between her white, trembling thighs. "God damn it!" he growled. "I'm going to fuck you... so hard... you'll flip right out of your skull!"
She writhed and mewled, in her sexual excitement, beneath him, grinding her hips up at the hardness of his giant cock, attempting to capture it... and her undulating movements transmitted her raw, sex-need to him, inciting his lust-filled cock to even more inflamed hardness. His balls ached, painfully, from the building erotic pressure.
With a frustrated moan, Carla, unable to line up her gyrating loins with his hard, nudging cock-head, reached down between them to grasp the monstrous shaft and guide the throbbing, bulbous head to the moistened slit of her searingly inflamed cunt. Her hips ground around and around in tiny circles, as the blood-engorged head wormed into her cuntal opening little by little. Finally, the whole head of it was sucked just up inside her vaginal mouth, and she shifted her hands up around him, placing one on either of his muscular buttocks-cheeks and attempting to pull him forward into her.
Arnie, holding himself aloft over her, then, on brawny arms needed no more urging. He used the strength of his back and legs, as he flexed his hips and drove his pulsatingly needful cock deep, hard and long, straight into her moist cuntal sheath, smoothly, cleaving her cunt walls wide. His blood-filled cock-head gored her with feral energy, pushing little wavelets of her sensitive, vaginal lining before it, as it plunged past the neck of her cervix, flicking it, painfully, in passing, to hit bottom, finally, in the farthest back wall of her tightly constricted stomach. Their pubic bones smacked together, solidly... and he had filled her cunt, completely, with potent man-flesh.
"OOOOooooh, God! That's it!" she grimaced. "That's the way I want it!" She was cock-filled as she had never been before... in her life!
The boxer had impaled her, pinning her to the mattress, immobilizing her, as he lay, heavily, on top of her, for a moment or two, while deep in her cuntal passage, he flexed his monster cock, expandingly, and reveled in the pulsing flutter of her interior vaginal muscles that responded claspingly, the warm elastic sheath seeming to milk at him with warm intensity. God! She was tight!
... And then, Arnie began to grind his aching cock into her squirming cunt, beneath him, and she thrust back up at him, counteringly, arching her body and pulling her thighs back to take all of his hardened shaft deep up inside her soft, sensuous young pussy. She moaned aloud, in delight, as he began to thrust in and out of her, with long, hard strokes, his hardened rod coming almost all the way out of her cunt, on the upstroke, then, animalistically, he plunged it back into her, ramming it home the full length, into the hungry mouth of her clinging, clasping cuntal passage.
Beneath him, Carla's mouth was open, voicing an inarticulate liturgy of passion, as her head began to fling from side to side, and her long, auburn hair was tossed into wild disarray.
Gradually, the mutual tempo was increased, until his plundering cock was pistoning in and out of the hotly moistened walls of her cunt like a steam engine with a broken safety valve, as their nakedly writhing bodies slapped together, fleshily, in wild abandon.
Suddenly, Arnie realized that he was setting too fast a tempo, a speed that would bring him to spewing ejaculation far too soon... unless he slowed down; otherwise the girl would be left high and dry... and he wanted to make sure it was good for her, too.
He tried, deliberately, to slow down, pace himself, as he plunged his long, thick cock, full length into her receptive, warmly moist cuntal passage, but her cunt, it seemed to him, was sucking and nibbling at his, sensitive, sex-starved penis, like another little mouth. God! It was too much! He felt as though he were being pulled into the maw of a machine that would suck him inside out!
His testicles were enlarged and swollen from the readying load of sperm, waiting there to be pumped the length of his aching cock. He felt the head of his prick begin to expand, throbbingly, with the sweet pain of imminent ejaculation, as he ground into her, desperately, trying to hold himself back.
... Then, he felt it begin... back behind the root of his cock. It burned, searingly... like racing wildfire. His rectum convulsed, and he knew the dam was going to burst... any second. God! He was going to pop... already! He couldn't hold back any longer...
Arnie's face twisted into a contorted grimace of delicious anticipation, laced with the poison of a sense of failure... a feeling that he would not be able to satisfy the woman he was fucking. Oh, Christ! It's almost here! I'm going to cum... in a few seconds!
"God!" he howled with urgent disgust. "I'm... going to cum... already!"
"It's Okay, darling! Just keep fucking! It'll be all right... but just keep shoving your cock in me!" she assured him, feeling his anxiety.
Pulling her thighs back, even farther, she mashed them down against the resilient mounds of her swelling breasts, raising her loins up to him and grinding up at him in perfect counterpoint to his plunging, pile-driving thrusts.
"I'm... going... to cum!" he wailed, agonizingly. "I can't help it!"
"Oh God! It's Okay! It's Okay! Fuck me... as hard... as you can... and don't stop... until you have to!" she instructed.
He did! Almost insanely, he fucked in and out of her claspingly moist cunt, his prick jack-hammering deep into her... until with searingly liquid jets of his viscid sperm hosing through him, he came deep up her hungrily flared belly. His lust pumped through his cock in a raging torrent of rapturous release.
Strangling, animal sounds of sexual gratification ripped from his lips. His grunts of pure carnal pleasure were loud in the bedroom... and he had the impression that Carla had cried out, too... in ecstatic pleasure of orgasm. He couldn't be sure, though; his own sensual involvement had been too profound... at that instant.
"... Did you... cum...?" he gasped.
"Yes! Oh, yessss, darling! I came... right with you!"
Arnie held himself, rigidly, above her, while below, her sheathing cuntal passage still milked at his wildly jerking cock that was pumping the last of his cum through the full, hotly pulsating length of it. Her loins pressed up hard against him, and she held him there, while a hungry little fluttering movement inside her vaginal tunnel nibbled up and down the length and thickness of his throbbing shaft.
He felt the tension wash away from him, as now his cock began to deflate inside of her... and he felt drained... completely satisfied. God! She's the best fuck... I've ever had!
Events happened fast then!
Just at the instant he collapsed on top of her, there was a blinding flash in the bedroom.
"What the hell!" he growled, every nerve and muscle fiber shocked into instant alertness. He started to get up. It had been a flash-bulb that had practically blinded him... a photographer's flash!
"Stay right where you are!" a man's voice rasped out at him.
Looking back over his shoulder, toward the door, Arnie saw the figures of two men, indistinctly, in the dim light. One of them, the speaker, was pointing a deadly looking pistol at him. He froze. Beneath him, Carla whimpered with fright.
"What do you want?" Arnie growled.
"We just wanted to let you know... we got everything on film!" the man with the gun told him. "... And, your sweet little wife'll be very interested in seeing all the pretty pictures..."
"What is this... a shakedown?"
"Of course... your wife won't see them... if you play ball."
"What do you mean...?"
"You know what the hell I mean!" the other grunted. "You turned us down, once... but you're not getting the second chance!"
Instantly, Arnie knew what they wanted. They were going to try blackmailing him into taking a dive... when he got into the ring with the champion.
"You can go to hell!" he bellowed. "I'll never fight a fixed bout!"
"That's what you think!" The man with the gun came close to the bed. "Crawl off that broad!" he ordered.
Arnie obeyed, his now flaccid penis pulling, moistly, from Carla's still warmly trembling vaginal opening. As he stood to his feet, the goon holding the gun, brought the weapon down hard, in a slashing arc to the side of his head. Instinctively, the big boxer rolled with the blow, deflecting most of its force, but even so, he was knocked down. Knowing that his bare fists were no match for an armed man, he decided to stay down for the count.
"Next time we see you... you'd better have a better answer!" the unknown gunman spat down at him. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared the two men were gone.
While he was down on the floor, Arnie knew he'd been set-up for this. Carla! She'd been too anxious to get him to that party... in too much of a hurry to get him into a bed with her! Christ! Why'd he been so stupid?
Looking up, he saw that she was kneeling down beside him, concern on her face.
"Well...?" he grated up at her, questioningly, "How much do you get out of this?"
He sat up, and she tried to put her arms around him. "I-I don't know... what you mean... darling?"
Arnie brushed her away from him. "You know what the hell I'm talking about! You set me up... for your gun-toting friends!"
"N-No! Arnie... no! That's not true!"
Quickly, he stood to his feet, gathered up his clothing and began dressing. "That's a damned lie... and you know it!" he stormed. "Come on... tell me what you get out of it!"
Carla crumpled onto the bed, sobbing, "NNothing! I don't... even know... who those men were!"
"I wish I could believe that!" he ground out at her. He was dressed, now, except for his jacket and tie. He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet and removed a crisp fifty dollar bill. Throwing the money down on the bed, beside her, he turned to leave, flinging back over his shoulder, "There's fifty for your trouble!"
"... And, that's the story, up to now?" Jay queried.
"Yeah... that's it!"
"Why'd you wait until now... to come to me?"
"I thought I could handle it!"
"What happened... to make you change your mind?"
"Well... Joan... my wife, changed her mind... and came on out here, to Los Angeles," Arnie explained.
"So...?"
"They're looking for her in Nebraska... where we live... and it's just a matter of a day or two... and they'll make contact with her... here!"
"I take it, then... you love your wife... and you don't want to lose her?"
"Hell no... I don't!" the big man grunted. "We may have our differences... but I don't want to lose her!"
"Okay, then," Ballard summarized, "As I see it... I've got to find Carla Reynolds... and find out what her connection is to this little blackmailing job... and I suppose I'd better check out Warren Ramsey..."
"Why him... he's some kind of industrialist?" Arnie questioned.
"I just like to check out all the possibilities... anyway, I don't think your friends, with the nasty dispositions, would be thinking up the ideas. It's somebody with brains! I want to nail the big shot! That's the only way to stop the whole caper!" Jay told him.
"Then... you're saying you'll take the job?"
"Yes... I'm working for you... as of right now." Ballard said.
The prizefighter was gone, and Jay mulled over all that the boxer had told him. He decided that his first job would be to locate Carla Reynolds. Tomorrow... I'll check through Dunn and Bradstreet... see what I can scare up on Ramsey...
Pressing the intercom button, he said to his secretary, "Karen... call my wife... and tell her that I'm working on a case... I won't be home, until late... probably."
"Yes, Sir... Mr. Ballard... right away!" Her voice came, tinnily, through the tiny speaker.
"... And, Karen...?"
"Yes, Sir...?"
"Knock off that Mister stuff... and the yes, Sir, no, Sir bit! You're supposed to be my private secretary!"
Chapter Two
With an unexplainable, cold resentment welling up into her conscious mind, Betty Ballard, carefully, replaced the telephone in its cradle, breaking the connection.
It was all she could do to remain politely civil to Jay's new secretary, who had just called to tell her that her husband wouldn't be home... until late, again!
Betty hadn't met the new girl, Friday, yet, but intuitively she knew that she must be young... and pretty. Unbidden, a nagging suspicion rocketed around inside her brain. Could Jay be taking her... out to dinner... and... She shied away from completing the thought; it was too threatening... to her... to her marriage!
Sighing disconsolately, she looked at the two prime steaks she was marinating and had planned to serve for dinner that evening. There was nothing to do but put them back in the refrigerator to cook for the next day. Since she'd be eating alone, again, something simple was in order, so back into the fridge went the steaks.
... Of course, she had known, when she married Jay Ballard, that his work, as a private investigator, would keep him away from home... some of the time, but lately, it seemed that most -- if not all -- of his evenings had been spent away from home. He'd told her it had been necessary... that the case he was working on, involving a night-club singer's murder kept him going to various clubs, shadowing the suspect, gathering information on him... and finally getting evidence and a motive that led to his arrest. There had been a big splash in the newspapers and on T.V. about the case, but there had been no mention of Jay's work on it. Betty wondered about that.
Jay had explained it to her. "Actually... I don't want that kind of publicity. I'd rather let the police take the credit... so I can work... in the background!"
"It seems unfair..."
"Maybe... but it's like being an undercover agent... you don't want too many people to know who you are..." he went on. "Anyway... I get my fee... and that keeps the world going around for us!"
"... But you're away so much... at night..." It was a plaintive plea.
"Hell... that's part of the job! You knew that... when we got married!" he barked.
She hadn't wanted to start an argument over it, again, so she backed away from it. Anyway, the skirmishes had been going on... ever since they'd gotten married, two years ago.
Jay was older than she was... quite a lot older, really. He was thirty-six, a few day before their wedding... and she had been about six weeks short of twenty; however, nothing would change her mind about marrying him. She had been sure that their difference in ages would never be a real problem.
Well... she had been mistaken. Jay had been a bachelor for too long to be domesticated easily. His habits, his working schedule and his attitudes were too deeply ingrained, and Betty, in her naivete had thought she could change him.
It was sheer foolishness, she had found out... especially when she had had to face the reality that Jay could -- and probably did -- on occasion, hop into bed with some other woman. She remembered her disbelief... that first time, when she had become suspicious of him. Her husband had denied it... but there was the evidence: lipstick... the dark hairs on his jacket... but even more damning, when she found them the next day in his car... was the diaphanous bra... and the sheer, nylon panties! He lied to her. She was sure of it... when he had told her, blandly, that it only seemed to look damaging. It had all been a part of his work!
Fervently, she had wanted to believe him, and in a way, she did; after all, she loved her husband, hating what he was doing to make a living and not wanting these things, he explained so easily, to come between them. In the end, he always ended up taking her to bed and making passionate love to her. Jay was a virile, potent man... and if he were engaging in some clandestine, extra-marital sex... it sure didn't affect his desire for her.
In a way, that was the trouble. He was almost more than she could handle... as far as sex went. It seemed he was always wanting it... wanting to make love to her... sometimes at the oddest times...
Unbidden, her luminous China-blue eyes brimmed over with tears, remembering how it had been just two nights ago. Ever since they had been married, Jay had been trying to make love to her in ways that seemed unnatural... even perverted to her, but she hadn't reached the point, yet of letting him do some of those revolting things. Then, as she had thought about it, she had decided... If I'm going to keep my husband... keep him from straying... I'd better learn to... d-do... some of those far-out things!
She tossed her long, golden blonde hair back over her shoulders, using her hand to brush some of the stray hairs back as she went about getting her lonely meal ready.
Gulping down his dinner, that evening, two nights ago, Jay had rushed off, telling her that he had a good lead on some new evidence. It was a currently hot case he was working on, and his interest in it was intense.
... But, it was when he had arrived back home, at three in the morning, that she remembered most painfully. She had heard him park the car, in the carport; glancing at the bedside clock, she had noted the time. It was an ungodly hour. Somehow she resented it. Why can't he work at an eight-to-five job... like most other people do...? It was her strait-laced, conformingly structured mind at work.
As Jay came into the bedroom, the reeking fumes of alcohol preceded him. He was drunk, again. Betty sat up in bed and snapped on the bedside lamp, her deep-seated feelings of resentment rising even higher in her. He reeled over to the side of the bed and flopped down on the edge.
"Hello, darlin'... I'm home!" he smiled, crookedly.
"It's about time!" she said, coldly. "It's after three in the morning."
"Sure... I know what time it is...! And you ought to be glad to see me! I got it all wrapped up... tonight!"
"Why don't you tell me about it... in the morning... when you're sober!" Betty suggested, stretching out again, and pulling up the sheet.
"Hey! You don't get it... Baby! I got something to celebrate about!" He reached out for her, roughly, to take her into his arms. "... And I'm going to wind up the celebration... with you!"
"No... please! Wait Jay... until later!"
Instantly, his anger boiled over. "Like hell... I'll wait! I came home to you... like a good husband... and I'll be damned... if I'll be put off." He hauled her up to him, forcefully slamming his mouth down on hers, like some savage animal, his tongue splaying her lips, as it shot into her mouth, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.
... But, Betty was having none of that... at that horrible hour of the morning and with her husband in such a drunken state. She tried to writhe away from him, to escape his mauling hands on her body and his plundering tongue in her mouth.
Finally, she could twist her head away, breaking the unwanted kiss, and pleaded with him. "Darling... Jay, darling... please... wait...?"
Her husband had pinned her to the bed. She was helpless. His hands were all over her, at first he pulled the sheet from her, then her filmy nightgown. She was stark naked, on the bed... but still she resisted him, stoutly, as he clutched and squeezed at her soft, sensitive flesh, his fingers digging, cruelly, into the pliant mounds of her full-orbed breasts. He was like a madman... and she didn't know how to cope with him.
Then, as she had watched in helpless horror, Jay had pulled off his own clothing, stripping himself naked in a matter of moments... and she saw his fully erect penis, standing out, rampantly, from his hairy loins; it was throbbing, hotly, with his sudden, furiously insane passion. She knew then that there was no escaping him. He would take her by force... make her do it... with him... whether she wanted to, or not. My God! My own h-husband... is going to r-rape me!
Jay dropped his weight down on his wife's cringing body, wrenching her fear-trembling thighs apart and pressing the white, lusciously tapering columns back against her breasts. He was breathing hard, and animal-like grunting sounds came from deep in his throat.
Desperately, she begged him, further. "OOoohh, Jay...! Please...? N-Not... this way! Please... D-Don't d-do it t-to me... like this!"
"Not this way... my way... or any other God damned way... I suppose... if you had your way about it... isn't that right...?" he growled.
"No... th-that's not... t-true..."
"Bull crap! You just don't like sex... and that's what keeps me the most frustrated son-of-a-bitch I know!" he spat, his handsome face a leering mask of lust, as he added, "Christ! I was getting laid more... when I was single!"
Wedging his hips between her lovely thighs, he snaked his hand down between them to grasp the pulsating shaft of his massively hardened cock. Abruptly, she felt the smooth, blunt head of his penis, as he used it to spread the soft, tender flesh of her cuntal opening. Then, crudely, he drew the bulbous head up through her unprepared furrow, to find her tiny clitoris, hidden in its fleshy folds at the top of her female slit.
"Oh, God... Jay... why are you d-doing this t-to me...?" she sobbed.
He had laughed a hard, cruel laugh. "Because... Mrs. Ballard... I've got a God damned right to fuck you! You've turned me off... with so many damned excuses... that I'm fed up... right up to my eye-balls!"
Rubbing the satin-smooth head of his cock against her clitoris, savagely, sending little, jolting spasms of unwanted arousal through her and reveling in his debasement of his lovely wife, he went on, "And, now... I'm going to fuck the hell out of you... for the last time, maybe... but Baby... you'll know you've been fucked!"
Betty tried to make sense out of his drunken, coarse language... and the message that came over to her was: He's thinking about... l-leaving m-me!
"Jay! Oh, Jay... darling... you know I-I love you! I couldn't stand t-to... lose you!"
"It's getting pretty damned late... to be worrying about that isn't it...?" he spat out, thickly.
Then, with drunken, unfocusing eyes, her husband had looked down at her wide-splayed loins, placed the lust-inflated head of his cock at her vaginal opening and lunged into her with all his strength, to drive his aching prick deep into the softness of her cringing, unready cuntal passage.
"AAAAaaaaaauuuuuooooohhhhhh!" she had cried out in pain, as his impaling shaft had gored deep into her tender belly. She felt as if some medieval instrument of torture had been poked into her... after having been heated to flesh-searing temperature.
It seemed to her that his plundering cock had torn into her, scraping the tender walls of her vagina raw... and she could feel the abraded flesh of her cuntal sheath as it was squeezed and pulled, desperately, around and ahead of the throbbing, bulbous head of it. It was horrible for her... and all she could think was: It's Jay... my husband... d-doing it...! But, she couldn't believe it!
With a desperation, born of fear, she attempted to squirm her hips down and away from the impaling shaft of his lust-filled prick... but there was no escaping it. He kept pushing deeper and deeper, forcing it into the warm, unreceptive depths of her vagina, rolling waves of her tender flesh before his rampaging cock.
Lying there, helplessly dominated, under her husband, Jay, she shed tears of pain, shock, humiliation, feeling as if she had been split in two, by the forcefully brutal entry. Worse, though, she wasn't able to understand his horrible reasoning... an insane reasoning that had led him to this unnecessary and cruel rape.
"Oh, God... Jay!" she groaned, as he had pressed her thighs back even farther and began to grind into her with animal-like, netting thrusts. "Take it... ea-easy...! Please... d-don't h-hurt me... any more...!" Oh, God... Why...? Why? WHY?
In Jay's drunken, alcoholic daze, he was in no mood for gentleness, as she lay under him, completely helpless... defenseless against his merciless ravishment. He pounded his huge thick cock into her with pulverizing force, while his hands roughly kneaded and dug into the softly resilient flesh of her breasts. She knew, without doubt, that his cruel hands were bruising the tender breast-flesh, and she whimpered in pain, beneath him.
Unmercifully, he thrust in and out of her now moistening cuntal sheath, paying absolutely no attention ho her wailing tears and pathetic pleadings, skewering her even harder to raise additional whimpers of pain with every goring in-thrust.
Then, up inside of her, she felt it; it was the kindling warmth of sexual arousal, and she found herself attempting to move her hips up against him, wanting his plunging cock, now. She was sore, her delicate tissues, inside her vaginal passage burning with the abrasions of his abrupt entry into her unprepared cuntal sheath. It hurt beyond reason... but still she felt suddenly afire with a great keening sensation that was growing with building pressure to an ecstatic sensuality. It seemed as though she could feel every hardened ridge of his ferally throbbing shaft... and it was getting bigger and bigger, expanding and pulsing deep inside her belly with every ramming stroke.
Her whole mind and body concentrated on it then. All she could think of was its enormity and the rapture it gave her, as he rampaged deep into her, his hardened cock seeming to soar high up into her, filling her completely with its potently turgid massiveness.
Betty couldn't believe that it could happen... lying beneath her husband... being forced, against her will -- raped was the right word, she had decided -- and being brought to the heights of rapture by it. God! It was building... building... and she knew it could happen...
But it didn't!
Suddenly, Jay stopped. He held himself rigid and immobile over her, his face contorted with a mask of pure lust as his expanding cock spewed forth its liquid cargo of hot, white sperm. She felt the jerking motion deep up inside her as his ejaculation pumped wildly to splash his cum deep up into her now hotly accepting vaginal passage.
"Oh, God... Jay... darling!" she wailed desperately. "Don't... st-top... now!"
She had squirmed her throbbing pussy up against him as she lay helplessly frustrated under her husband, trying to re-establish the lost rhythm... to regain the ramming potency of his hard cock deep up inside her. Then, she was clutching at him, as she realized that he had cum to his orgasm... and that now his hard tumescence would disappear... leaving his cock a flaccid, useless -- to her -- tube of softened male flesh.
"Darling... Darling... p-please... keep it up... a-and..."
"AAaauugh!" he grunted, concerned only with his own satisfaction, as he reveled in the ecstatic sensations of his spewing cock.
Then, her husband collapsed on top of her. He was relaxed, satiated, and no sooner had his head lowered to the pillow than he drifted off to sleep, his hardened shaft of flesh, sunk deeply in her needful cuntal passage becoming rapidly detumescent... and there was nothing for Betty Ballard. Nothing!
Squirming from beneath Jay's sleep-deadened body, she rolled over to her side of the bed, shedding hot tears of real sexual frustration. OOoooh! I was getting... s-so close!
She lay there, wide-eyed, miserable, her abdomen blood-swollen and aroused, attempting to sort out her thoughts, but her mind whirled in chaotic disorganization. She was unable to pin down anything important... except that she knew now that everything in her marriage would come tumbling down. H-He threatened... t-to leave m-me...
Finally, after hours, it seemed, she slept fitfully, awakening once at daybreak to pull the sheet up over her snoring husband.
At mid-morning, when Jay finally got out of bed, showered and came into the kitchen where Betty was seated drinking a third cup of coffee, he was a different man... from the maniac, who only a few hours earlier had raped her, unmercifully.
"Good morning, darling," he said rather sheepishly, "I guess I really got a snoot full... last night..."
Betty looked up at her husband, unsmilingly, "You were drunker... than I've ever seen you!"
"I don't even remember driving home..." he said. "Lucky I didn't have an accident... or something..."
She looked up at him, disbelieving. "Y-You don't remember...?"
"No... I can't seem to remember anything... after about two on the morning... everything else is blacked out!"
"Then... you were drunker... even than I thought...!" My God! Then... he doesn't remember... wh-what he d-did to m-me...! She stared at him, not knowing what to say... or even to think.
"What's wrong... Betty?" Jay asked.
"N-Nothing... nothing at all...!" she said, covering up her astonishment. "What would you like to have for breakfast?"
"Some tomato juice... to start off with."
She had to believe it. He doesn't remember...!
But there is some truth... even in the words of a drunken man... And... he inferred... h-he was going to leave me...! But, maybe now... I've got another chance... t-to be... the kind of... loving wife... he w-wants me... to be!
Chapter Three
"But you don't understand, Joan..." Arnie explained. "Harry's ironing out the details now... on the championship bout... and it'll probably come off... in about two more months!"
"Then you are going to stay here... to train for it?" she queried, surveying him through dark grey eyes, her brow wrinkled in a frown.
"I have to... this's where Harry wants me to work out..."
"Well... do we have to stay here in Santa Monica?" Joan tossed her jet-black hair, as she swept her eyes around the apartment, Arnie had picked out for them.
"No... not really..."
"I'm going to find a place I like!"
"Do you mean... you're going to stay... this time?"
"Yes... darling... but I'm going to live in the kind of place I want... instead of this!" She was derisive.
"Okay... go ahead!" Arnie couldn't believe what he had heard. His wife was really going to stay with him... and maybe... just maybe, he could convince Harry that living like a normal man, with his wife, while he was training... wouldn't hurt him. Hell! Sex burns up less energy than boxing one round... and it'll sure make me a lot happier... to have Joan with me!
Of course, Arnie knew that his wife was headstrong, and that there was a strong streak of selfishness in her... but he overlooked those two things, in favor of something more positive, for Joan was definitely a sexy woman... beautiful almost to perfection, and she did try to please him... most of the time. That's why Arnie put up with the rest of it... otherwise... But, damn! Carla's something else... a real sex-pot!
Guiltily, he remembered what that little session with the hot blooded girl had resulted in... and he wasn't pleased with himself, at all! But, Christ... I was desperate... for a piece of ass! That's why he was so glad that Joan was going to stay with him. I won't have to go looking for it... It'll be right there... when I want it!
Arnie hadn't told Harry Nash about the blackmail thing... at least not yet; he was waiting to see what Jay Ballard would come up with, as far as finding out who it was... then, he'd turn it over to the police and the Boxing Commission. God damn it... if I told Harry... he'd blow it wide open... and I can't let him do that yet! Those damned goons said they'd kill me... if the police were brought in on it!
There was no doubt in his own mind about his courage... or lack of it. It just wasn't wise to match his fists against a bunch of gun-carrying hoods. If I ever get the chance, though... However, it was unlikely that he'd ever get a chance at one of them, alone; they always came in pairs.
And, of course, he hadn't told Joan, for very obvious reasons. Damn... when they get to her... finally... there's going to be all hell to pay!
Joan went apartment hunting. She found exactly what she wanted... in Corona del Mar!
Arnie was appalled when she told him... on two counts: the location! Christ! Carla Reynolds lives down there... somewhere! He tried to fix the location in his mind but drew a blank. Secondly: the price he was going to have to pay for a fully furnished apartment made him flinch... but he wasn't going to object. It would end up in an argument, so he just bit his tongue and said, "Okay, darling... if that's what you really want... we'll rent it and move into it..."
"It's a lovely place!" Joan gushed. "... And it's in a perfect location... with a view of the ocean."
They moved in the next day.
"I've just come to California..." Joan confessed to the auburn-haired woman who sat across from her.
They were in a plush cocktail lounge, drinking a leisurely martini... at Carla's invitation. Carla had spotted Joan Pearson that afternoon in her favorite hairdresser's salon.
Like many prostitutes, Carla didn't really like men. She tolerated them... but she really got her best kicks with women. Actually, she swung both ways, almost equally. Men provided her with the necessities... and many of the luxuries of life... but with another beautiful woman...
She had found it easy to strike up a conversation with the black-haired beauty who was obviously a stranger. Joan was appreciative of her easy, friendly ways, the sparkling conversation... the invitation to an afternoon cocktail... and so, there they were. Carla seemed to have a sixth sense about things like this. She knew it would be easy to get her new friend up to her apartment. After that... well... Carla knew what to do... It would be a nice afternoon interlude before the evening's work.
"I just know you'll love it, here!" Carla told her, her grey-green eyes smoldering over the rim of her glass.
Joan felt a little uneasy, but she decided that it was just friendliness... and the alcohol that caused Carla's eyes to do those things.
And, later... after the second round of drinks... when Carla made the pitch to her... about coming over to her apartment, to relax... listen to some wild records... and get to know each other better... Joan had some second thoughts. She really should be home when Arnie got back; he'd had to go into L.A. for some kind of conference.
"You can leave... any time you want to... but I think it'd be groovy... you know..." Carla smiled, mysteriously.
In the back of her mind, Joan knew that she was being picked up... yet there was something perverse in her that told her to go along with the act... experience something new! It was her headstrong stubbornness getting in the way of rational thought. If I don't like the way things are going... after we get to her apartment... I'll just walk out...! After all... she couldn't force me to do... something I didn't want to do!
And there was her curiosity. She'd heard of women who loved other women... but except for a passing attraction another girl had for her... when she was in high school, Joan had never experienced a woman-woman relationship. She remembered that Helen... that girlfriend, back in Omaha, had wanted to rub and massage her breasts... and there had been some kissing. It hadn't gone beyond that. Still... as memory flooded back, she had known, even then... that they had been on the verge of discovering more of their sexuality. There was the warm tingle in her breasts, still remembered, when Helen had kissed them... and that uncomfortable moistness between her legs... and yes... there had been sexual stimulation. She knew now... what it had been.
Helen had moved away, she thought... or was it that she had discovered boys. They were more exciting, and it hadn't taken Joan long to find out why... She hadn't thought about women as sex-objects... until this very moment... when Carla had suggested going to her apartment... to get better acquainted! She was not that naive! She knew what the implications were in that loaded invitation!
In Carla's apartment they shared another drink. Joan was beginning to feel the effects of them; her head whirled, eyes refused to focus properly... and she felt exhilaration and a high sense of adventure... as she wondered when things were going to start happening. Churning, warmly, in her belly was a tiny spark of anticipating sensuality, waiting there to be fanned into full-blown passionate desire. It was a new feeling; one she had never before experienced.
They chattered... listened to a record or two... and then the drinks were finished. Carla put her glass down on the low coffee table, decisively. There's no point... in wasting any more time!
Direct, as always, Carla, seated on the couch next to Joan, leaned over to her, put her arms around the black-haired woman and kissed her, using her tongue, worming it, gently, between the other woman's lips and into her mouth to dart, exploringly, tasting and savoring the sweetness of her mouth.
Even though she had expected it, when it came, Joan was surprised... and shocked. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, succeeding, finally, in twisting her mouth to the side to break the deep, warmly passionate kiss.
She gasped, "Really... Carla! Wh-What... are you doing? What do you... w-want...?"
"You know what I want! You!" Carla hissed, her grey-green eyes burning into Joan's dark orbs, as her tiny, warmly avid hand went out to caress the fullness of a soft breast through her clothing.
"Do you... m-mean...?"
"I want you... your lovely body! I want to... make love to you!" Carla told her, her voice husky and low.
Suddenly, in the face of the other woman's savage desire, she felt panic... and fear, a fear that she had overstepped the bounds... that she was in deeper water than she could handle.
"I-I couldn't... do that!" Joan gasped. "My husband... I-I..."
"He'd never need to know..."
"... But... I-I love... him!"
"Men! What do they know about love... about what really turns a woman on...?"
"It j-just seems... so..."
"Wrong...?" Carla finished, tossing her au burn hair back. "You'll never know... what it's like... to be turned on... really... until you've been loved... that way... by another woman! Because she's a woman... she knows what to do... what not to do..."
Then, as Carla's hand drifted down across her flat abdomen and began to squirm its way down into the angle of her thighs, pressing in against the curling, down-covered mound through the light layers of her clothing, Joan felt a sudden, leaping thrill-sensation surge warmly through her loins, seeming to center down there, between her now trembling thighs, signaling a prelude to forbidden pleasures. Her body wanted to leap for joy... to plunge in... experience all, but her reasoning mind was there, censoring the lewdly lubricious, sexually oriented signals, telling her: This isn't what you want... really! Remember... you can just walk away from it! You promised...!
Joan's own hand followed Carla's, grasped it in an attempt to pull it away... stop the other woman from going too far. Desperately, she murmured, "I've got... to g-go home... be there... when my husband..."
"Fuck your husband! He can wait... his turn!" Carla spat, her lips twisting around the obscenity, lewdly.
Joan was shocked. She had never heard a woman use words like that! She had heard the crudity from boys she had gone out with... and from her husband, Arnie, but no woman she had ever known had used the lewd word. Her face crimsoned with an unbidden blush. She gaped at the delicately beautiful, auburn-tressed woman, in disbelief, who had rapped it out so brazenly.
Seeing her shocked surprise, Carla went on, "I was married... once... when I was seventeen... too damned young... to know what was going on! All men are alike... I think... All they want to do is screw! Climb on top of you... shove a hard cock between your legs... ramming it into your cunt... whether you're ready or not... and not giving a damn whether you want it! All they care about is their own precious, male egos... thinking once they're married... that they own you...! Then... they'll just fuck you... shoot their load into you... and if you cum... it's good... but if you don't... Well, tough titty! Then... you're left to worry... about pregnancy... and not cumming... while the big, selfish son-of-a-bitch... goes to sleep... leaving you with nothing but a sore cunt... and the possibility of getting caught with a Baby! And, all the time... what you really wanted was some real loving... not just fucking! There's a difference... and they're not very many men... who know how to love a woman!" It was a long tirade that Carla spat out in her hate and frustration, her vengefulness contorting her beautiful face as she spoke.
Somehow, Joan knew that she was facing a truth. She could have recited the same story... without the obscenities coloring it. There was an exception: she had tried to learn to respond to Arnie... and thought she was working toward a good sex life with him... when he was home. But God... he's home so seldom...! Always going off to train somewhere... for a fight... leaving me alone... almost half the time!
A flash of insight, the germ of an idea, began to ricochet around inside her skull. Maybe there was a partial answer, here... to the loneliness she experienced, when Arnie was in training camp. She rejected the borning idea almost as soon as it materialized in her mind and became words. No! God... Wh-What am I thinking about...? Take a woman... l-lover... when Arnie's gone...!? No! NO! NOOOOO!
There was that moist warmth between her legs, the tremulant, keening sensations that were racing through her... and she didn't want it.
Struggling to her feet, she swayed, dizzily, finding her legs shaky, almost unable to support her weight. She had to leave... get away from Carla... before...
Soft, female arms were around her, supporting her... and leading her somewhere. Where? She was in a bedroom... being helped onto the bed... and Carla's voice came to her, soothingly, through the pounding in her head.
"Everything's going to be all right... Baby..." Carla crooned. "You'll see... It'll be out of this world... for you..."
Looking down at the lovely woman on her bed, Carla Reynolds knew that it was time, now, to make it with the confused girl... give her something she'd remember. Hell... she doesn't know... what she wants... at this point! It had been easier than she'd thought... to get Joan into bed. Of course, the drinks helped... She smiled to herself. But, maybe she was ready for it... and didn't know it! Like... maybe... it was lucky for her that I came along... and just sort of nudged her over the brink... It seemed to her that Joan was hotter... more ready and more receptive than any woman she had ever seduced.
Not hurrying, Carla stood up and began to take off her clothes, posing provocatively, seductively, as she did so... knowing that Joan couldn't help but watch. She was a practiced expert...
Fascinated, in fact... almost hypnotized, Joan Pearson watched the other woman strip off her encumbering garments, to reveal the loveliness of her soft, clear-skinned body... the voluptuousness of her curvaceously delicate figure, and she wondered... even as she watched, with a feeling of revulsion for what she knew would soon follow... wondered what it would feel like to have another woman's body in intimate contact with her own. How... would it be...?
Then, standing naked, there, beside the bed, Carla allowed her hands to roam over her own body, reassuringly, cupping up her luscious, full breasts, caressingly, rolling the delicate, pink nipples to spiky erection; finally, a hand slid down across the flatness of her smooth white belly to the triangle of her pubic mound, lightly covered with curling, auburn hair that gleamed like polished bronze, where she slipped a finger into the moist pinkness of her woman's slit to tease at her own erectly alert clitoris. She shivered, erotically, with the wild sensations her own finger caused.
"OOooh... that's soooo nice..." she breathed. "Have you... ever done that... to yourself... darling...?"
Mutely, Joan affirmed it with a little wag of her head.
Sidling onto the bed, beside her, Carla ran her hands over Joan's softly rounded body, her warm hands sending tiny thrills coursing through her.
"Now... let's get you stripped, too..." Carla cooed, beginning already to unbutton buttons.
Not understanding why, Joan allowed herself, dazedly, to be disrobed... even helping a little... until she, too lay on the bed stark naked.
"Oh... lovely..." Carla breathed, stretching out beside the black-haired beauty of Joan's equally luscious body, her hands going out to caress and fondle a full-orbed breast and reveling in the smooth pliancy of the soft, silky skin. Deftly, she teased a cameo-pink nipple into erect hardness, her mouth following to suck and nibble while her hand taunted at the opposite one.
It all felt so good. The first electric contact of Carla's hands made her all shivery, the tingling sensations almost more than she could stand... and she knew, then... that there would be no retreat... no running away from it. She had to know... and experience, because now... she wanted more than anything else in the world; indeed she had passed beyond wanting... to needing.
Once again, her mind, dictator-like, tried to haul in a close rein on her sensation-filled body, telling her to deny this forbidden experience. It's unnatural... perverted...!
"Oh, God... Carla... I-I can't! I just... c-can't!" she strangled out.
"Yes... you can!" Carla's voice was low, intense. "Let me teach you... Just relax... and let me show you how..."
Turning Joan to face her, on the bed, the more experienced Carla clamped her body to the other woman's, mashing their breasts together, her mouth seeking and finding her lipstick-smeared lips and pressing her own sensuous mouth against them in a gentle, non-demanding kiss. She tasted the salt of Joan's tears... and knew what it was the other woman was feeling, remembering the first time she, herself, had lain in another woman's arms.
Gradually, Joan relaxed against her, her arms going out to Carla, and their kiss was fired with passion. Carla's tongue snaked out, slowly, to run in sensuous, little circles, rimming her lips with sensation-producing lubricity. Busily, then her hands teased and taunted the other's curvaceous body, caressing, fondling, smoothing and massaging, swarming over her voluptuous contours, like a swarm of hungry insects, her own great need welling up in her, uncontrollably... But, she held back, not wanting to do anything that would disturb Joan. Don't rush it... damn it! Get her worked up... to the point... where she'll be climbing the walls for it...!
More and more, Joan began to respond to Carla. There was an unaccountable thrill that she began to feel... an intensely erotic feeling that was being generated in her by the soft femaleness of her seducer's lovely body. Shyly, she rubbed her hands down Carla's smooth back and over the soft fullness of her buttocks. It was like caressing herself!
Pulling away, slightly, she had a distinct urge to touch Carla's breasts. Her hand came up between them, and she cupped the other's velvet-skinned titty, caressingly, feeling it's softly resilient mound... that was so much like her own. She felt the coned out nipple, hard in the palm of her hand; then... Carla sighed, shudderingly, and she realized that she had been the cause of it.
Now, their avidly hungry mouths were welded together in a mutual, deep kiss, as tongues darted in and out, tastingly, and their hands began to explore, caressingly: Carla with sure knowledge... and Joan with the timid sense of a neophyte. All the while, the fires of sensuality in their loins raged into uncontrollable, licking flames of desire. Joan moaned in helplessness. There was nothing more she could do to stop it, now... but desperately, she broke the deep, soul kiss.
"I've... n-never... cheated on my h-husband..." she murmured, trying to make one last, feeble protest.
"But... I'd bet he's cheated on you!" Carla grated, vehemently. "Most men do... sooner or later... and they sure as hell don't think about you... when they're shoving a hard cock... between another woman's legs!"
Carla's language jolted her, again, and she recoiled. That was the main reason she'd changed her mind and flew out to Los Angeles, from Omaha... after Arnie had canceled his own flight home. The fight was over. He had won it... and he was free on the town. Did he find another woman... and take her to bed...? Oh, I-I'll newer know...!
"... But it's almost... the s-same..."
"It's not the same!" Carla shot out. "This is woman-woman love!"
"I'll change... somehow... and he'll..."
"No! You can swing both ways... just like I do... only I get more kicks when I'm with another woman!"
"You mean...?"
"He'll never know, darling... It'll be our secret!"
Almost savagely, Carla recaptured Joan's lips, her voracious mouth devouring the sweetness of them, while below, she thrust her own, white, curvaceous thigh up between the trembling, tapering columns of the black-haired beauty she had entrapped, spreading them apart and insinuating her loins in close until the two soft pubic mounds met, Carla's auburn-haired one grinding in against the curling darkness of Joan's with wildly excited abandon.
Reaching over her, Carla pulled the full orbs of Joan's buttocks in tight to her, then that same hand, trailed downward in the soft crevice, going in the back way, to find the moist pinkness of her vaginal opening. She paused there, slipping a tiny finger into the bedewed vestibule to moisten it before it moved onward to find her sensitively erect clitoris. She found it hard, throbbingly sensate, and with a woman's sure knowledge, rubbed it caressingly... and ever so gently. She smiled with lewd satisfaction, as she felt the convulsive shock in the other woman's body.
Then, Joan was aware that Carla, her woman-lover, was slithering down her body, while at the same time, gently rolling her over to her back, splaying out her legs with her thigh, her mouth working, hungrily on her aching breasts, kissing and sucking, moving the hardened nipples in and out of her mouth in quick tempo, as she maintained a constant sucking pressure. Arcing sensations grounded in her loins, as Carla's hands, too, kneaded and massaged at her curvaceous softness. Dimly, Joan remembered that all of this was wrong... forbidden, but as her sensation-tortured nerve endings responded to the auburn-haired woman who was seducing her, she found it difficult to know why it was forbidden. She was filled with the most exquisite ecstasy she had ever known. Never had it ever been like this... with her husband, Arnie!
Uncontrollably, Joan's hips began to undulate in tiny, grinding circles under her, as the delightfully erotic sensations keened, surgingly, through her, and she knew that it was the end of her resistance. Carla could do anything with her, now...
"OOoohh..." she moaned, helplessly. "Oh... Goddddd!"
Carla's hungrily teasing lips began moving down, now, moistly, through the defile, between the soft mounds of her breasts, over her ribs, her flat belly, the agile, taunting tongue pausing to swirl in and out of her navel... and then Joan felt her thighs being spread apart, by gentle female hands, to expose the palpitating flesh of her cuntal furrow to the other woman's salacious gaze.
Crawling between Joan's legs, Carla's hands kneaded the satiny flesh of her inner thighs, her mouth following... ever downward... and Joan moaned with excited anticipation, as she divined what was coming next.
Closer, Carla's mouth worked toward the pulsating hungering portal of her cunt... and just before the other woman's soft mouth gained her exciting goal, Joan had a disquieting thought. Somehow... she knew, in the instant that Carla's mouth made electrifying contact with her pulsing, cuntal flesh, she would be changed... just as she had been changed, when she had given up her virginity. Weren't lesbians different... somehow, from other women?
Now, suddenly, it was there! That tantalizing, licking, lovely and soul-destroying tongue was there... teasing at her sensitive clitoris, and sending ecstatic sensations of sexual pleasure to her brain... and wildly stimulated body.
... And then, as Carla's tongue danced little pirouettes on the palpitating bud, then shifted, after a moment or two to dart, sinuously, into the liquid, coralline portal of her cuntal passage, Joan knew that there was nothing else like it in this world. It was a rhapsody of carnal sensation... but her taboo-instilled mind would not let go, even as her body responded, her hips gyrating up to Carla's mouth in mute supplication... wanting more of it... more of everything.
"Oh, God... Carla! N-No! Noooooo!"
Pausing for a moment, Carla took her mouth away, long enough to say, "It's yes... Baby... and you know it! Relax and enjoy it... all the way!"
"... B-But... it's... d-dirty...!" Joan wailed in anguish.
"And, you've loved every minute of it... haven't you?" Carla countered and, her head sank down between Joan's trembling, alabaster-white thighs to the sensate, pink flesh of her involuntarily pulsing cunt, her tongue plunging deep into the liquid depths of her lust-incited pussy.
She thrust her tongue in and out in flicking, measured tempo, matching the rhythm that Joan's grinding hips had already set, fucking in and out... almost like a man's ravaging cock.
Beneath Carla's teasingly educated tongue, Joan, unable any longer to control her body... or think a rational thought, knew that it was true! She had loved every minute of her seduction by the lovely, auburn-tressed Carla. God! She had to have it now... had to have that marvelous tongue doing those wonderful things to her... licking and sucking at her tremulant, sensation-seared cunt!
Throwing all caution to the winds, conscious only of the arcing, high-voltage flash of desire that burned, sparkingly, in her naked, now upturned loins, Joan cried out, in anguished desperation, "Oh, OOooh... OOOooohhh, yesssss! Carla... yes! M-Make me c-cum...!"
Carla's mouth stopped, and Joan heard her muffled voice ask, "You want me... to keep on... like this... until you cum?"
"Y-Yes!" Joan gasped. "Oh, yesssssssss!"
"Let's go that one better, Baby Doll! I'm hot, too... you know... so let's make it... together!"
"Wh-What do you... m-mean...?" Joan was desperate, her hips undulating up to find Carla's mouth, again.
"Do each other... at the same time!"
"H-How...?"
"You just do the same thing to me... that I've been doing to you!"
"... But I've n-never...!" Joan cried.
"Now's the time to learn, then!" Carla told her, firmly.
Quickly Carla reversed her position. Her lovely, tapering thighs straddled Joan's face, while her own head was poised over the darkly curling down at the cusp of her thighs.
Startled, Joan looked straight up into the moistly pink flesh of Carla's cuntal furrow, softly and sparsely ringed by her auburn pubic hair, where it hung, tauntingly only inches above her sensuous lips. Suddenly, it was clear to her what she must do... if she were to cum to her rapturous orgasm that beckoned her, just out of reach.
They were in the sixty-nine position. Joan had heard about it. It was the classic position of mutual, oral-genital sex... but never would she have thought that she would be doing it... in this bizarre position. God... How did I get into this?
With a swivel-hipped undulation, Carla's vibrantly needful pussy came down to a firm, electrifying contact with Joan's mouth; while, at the same time, her own head nuzzled in between the other's thighs, again, to find her throbbingly sensate clitoris. Her tongue lashed out to lick the pulsing bud with voracious sensuality.
Feeling suffocated, trapped, Joan's first impulse was to scream... but when Carla's tongue contacted the quiveringly sensitive flesh of her cunt, it brought a long, mewling moan of complete, sexual surrender from deep in her chest, causing her to lift her head up against the warm, fleshy furrow above her, her tongue darting out, experimentally to find Carla's hardened little clitoris. Timidly, she licked at it... and felt the shuddering convulsion in Carla's body... that told her more eloquently than words the effect it had on the auburn-haired woman.
Then, flicking her tongue into the moistness of Carla's vaginal opening, she was surprised to find the taste of it slightly pungent and not at all distasteful, and as Carla's tongue plunged in and out of her, below, in imitation of a virile, fucking cock, Joan began to match her, until they had established a mutual rhythm, their tongues a pair of surrogate cocks in their heatedly sensual cunts.
... And, together, they spiraled toward the heights of release, as tongues licked and mouths sucked, hands grasped and caressed, hips ground and mouths gasped and mewled out moans and groans of mutual sex-pleasure.
Suddenly, Joan was mouthing words up into the moist cunt-flesh, between the thighs, gyrating above her.
"OOooh! That feels... s-so good! Don't stop... doing it!"
From below, between her own trembling legs, she heard Carla's counterpointing chant, dim and muffled.
"Eat me! Eat me... good... darling! Eat my... hot little pussy!"
Their bodies intertwined, heaving and writhing, together, mutually giving and receiving, the two women arrived at the apogee of rapture, release in orgasm.
Joan Pearson felt it begin, for her, in the exquisitely shuddering convulsions of her body that caused her to spasm in release, as wave after surging wave of ecstatic rapture broke over her sensation-filled loins, spreading through her in relaxing, euphoric impulses of pure sexual pleasure.
Above her, Carla ground her hips tight against Joan's face, with wild abandon, her voice, mingling with Joan's in an ancient chant of completion and satisfaction that announced the arrival of her moment of rapture.
"OOOoooohhhhh, my Godddddd! Eat me! Eat me! Eat me! AAAAAaaaaauuuuuuuuuugggggghhhhhh!"
Carla collapsed on top of Joan, momentarily, then rolled off, reversing herself, again to stretch out beside her, her arms going out to clasp the black-haired beauty to her and clamping her mouth to Joan's in a long, deeply passionate kiss, as the last of the spasming, convulsive waves of orgasm left them drained... and satiated.
"God! I flipped... right out of my skull!" Carla declared with a little gasp.
Joan could only moan, "OOOooohhh! It was... out of this world!"
As Carla snuggled in close to her, her hands beginning to trail, caressingly, over her body again, Joan began to regain some of her composure, and her mind was functioning, attempting to sort out her new options. One thing was sure: she'd have to get away from Carla... go home, where she could really think things through.
"Joan, honey... we could really have a thing..." Carla murmured.
"Carla... Please...? I've got to get home! It's getting late... and I've got to have time... to think..."
"Then... I'll see you, tomorrow?"
"I-I don't know... maybe..." Joan told her, sitting up and gathering up her garments. "I'm really... in a whirl... I can't think straight... about anything..."
Carla didn't press her. She knew it was better that way... but next time...
"Let me give you my address... and telephone number..." Carla suggested, reaching out to get pen and pencil from her purse. She scribbled her name, Carla... and her address, followed by her telephone number and handed it to Joan, who put the scrap of paper, absently, into her own purse.
"You can call me... or come over... any time you want..." Carla added, "because... there's a lot more I can show you!" It was a mysterious promise.
"Such as...?" Joan asked, her curiosity rising.
"Next time..." Carla breathed. "The next time... together!"
Chapter Four
The "conference" Arnie drove up to L.A. for was with Jay Ballard. He sat across the desk from the private investigator, while Jay ran down the list of information he had gathered so far.
"I haven't been able to locate Carla Reynolds... yet," he told the boxer, "but she could be using another name."
"Yeah... I hadn't thought of that..." Arnie admitted.
"Now, here's what I've got on Warren Ramsey," Jay said, referring to his notes. "He was born in Idaho... about fifty-years old. Bachelor... at least he isn't married, right now. Good rating with Dunn and Bradstreet... President of a pleasure boat building company... Extensive holdings in electronics... And, this is important! He has a string of race horses... Makes the racing circuit... and is a big bettor whether his horses are running or not... and..." Jay paused, significantly, "he's a fight fan! Attends almost all the important bouts!"
"Which means," Arnie said, thoughtfully, "if he's betting the horses... he's also betting on the fights."
"Exactly!"
"Is he into any of the fight stables... own any boxer's contracts...?"
"If he does... I haven't been able to dig it out, yet!" Jay grunted. "It would sure fit together... and all I'd have to do is connect one of those bully boys with him... and Carla... and we could bust it wide open!" the detective speculated.
"... But, right now... there's nothing to tie him into it... is that right?"
"That's the hell of it... I'm just making a wild guess!" Ballard confessed. "There's not a damned thing to connect him with anything... except that you went to a party, that he gave! Which reminds me... he's a big party-giver... with a pretty good reputation as a cocksman! He's also been involved with some pretty well-known women... in the international jet-set!"
"He really gets around, then...?"
"... And spends money, lavishly!"
"Pays his income tax...?"
"Like a model citizen!" Jay affirmed. "He's clean... absolutely clean... and that's what bugs me!"
"Then... maybe you're on the wrong track... as far as Ramsey's concerned..."
"I don't think so!" Jay snorted. "Here's a rough profile: Money... Horses... Women... Gambling! Three weaknesses... that take money! Lots of it... and I don't think he makes that much money building pleasure boats... alone! There's got to be another source! All I've got to do is find out where the rest of his money comes from!"
"Well... I hope you can!" Arnie said fervently. "By the way I've moved..."
"That's good... it'd buy us some time, while they're trying to find you, again!" Jay observed. "Where...?"
"Corona del Mar area..." Arnie told him. "Here's the address..." He wrote it out for the detective. "I don't have a telephone, yet."
Jay was surprised. "Why the hell did you move down there?"
"That's where Joan wanted to live. She picked the apartment!" Arnie defended.
"Do you mean... she's going to stay here, now?"
"Yeah," Arnie grinned. "She finally got some sense... I guess!"
"... Or she's suspicious...!" Jay suggested, cynically.
"I don't think so... and I'm sure they haven't made contact with her yet!"
"Let's hope not!"
"Should I level with Joan... tell her what's going on?" Arnie asked, worriedly.
"No! Not yet! I'd like to stop it... while it's just a conspiracy... and maybe we could keep it from her, completely!" Jay told him.
"Okay... whatever you say..."
Arnie Pearson left, and Jay stared at the closed door, wondering: I sure as hell hope that I've made the right guess!
Warren Ramsey picked up the third telephone on his desk. Its number was unlisted and known to only a very few people.
"Yes...?" he barked into the mouthpiece.
"Stearns... Warren..." the voice came over the wires to him. "We spotted Pearson!"
"Where?"
"He's talking to a private eye... name of Ballard!"
"Okay! That's good! Now, this's what I want you to do. You got Pratt with you...?"
"Yeah."
"Have him stick to Pearson... find out where he's living now. I figure that wife of his must be here, with him... since they turned up a blank in Omaha!" Ramsey instructed. "... And, tell him to let me know... personally as soon as he's got the address!"
"Right!"
"And, I want you, Jack... to pay a little visit to that private detective! Tell him it's time to bow out... or else!"
"Should I give him something to remember...?" Jack Stearns asked.
"No... just warn him off... but you'll know what to do if he's not going to cooperate..." Ramsey told him.
"Okay... we'll get right on it!" Stearns broke the connection.
Jack Stearns bulldozed his way past Karen Forrester in the outer office and burst into Jay's office, taking him by surprise.
"You Jay Ballard...?" he demanded.
"Yes... what do you want?"
"Arnie Pearson was just here... and I'd like to give you some advice... about what to do on his case!"
"I can always use good advice..." Jay said mildly. "What is it?"
"Nothing! Don't do any more work for him... at all!"
"He's given me a retainer... and I..."
"Give it back!" Stearns grated. "Better yet... maybe you should take a vacation!"
While the other man was talking, Jay made mental notes. He would know this man... any time he saw him again. Medium build... five feet ten or eleven inches tall... 180 pounds... late thirties... wavy blonde hair... brown eyes... scar on his forehead... long, straight nose... heavy lower jaw... long, oval face... and the sound of his voice, all registered in his mind and he would remember.
"I don't have time for vacations!" Jay told him, leaning back in his swivel chair. He was relaxed but alert, waiting for a possible attack. He knew, now, that someone -- Ramsey maybe -- was worried, so they were trying to scare him off!
"You're not listening very good!" Ramsey's man threatened.
"Come off it, man... I've sat through hundreds of Grade B movies and T.V. whodunnits... where the big, tough guy warns the detective to lay off... and you're playing it worse than any I've ever seen!" Jay said, with a disarming grin. "Now... unless you've got some further business with me... I'd suggest you leave, now!"
Stearns, caught off guard by Jay's unruffled reaction, gaped, staringly, for a moment, then turned to leave, shooting back, lamely, over his shoulder, "Okay... smart-ass... don't say you weren't warned!"
"I'll get it down in my notes!" Jay Ballard returned.
When the unknown bearer of a warning from an equally, as yet, unknown source was gone, the detective heaved a sigh of relief, glad that there had been no violence. But, it was damned close... if I hadn't kidded him out of it!
Intending to go home for dinner, since he'd been so busy for the last two days that he hadn't made it home... until the early hours of the morning, Jay headed for the parking lot. He was worried... not about Arnie's troubles but his own. Hell! Things aren't getting any better... between Betty and me... but if she'd loosen up a little bit and put a little zing into our sex-life... it'd sure help! Maybe, what we need is a good vacation... go off somewhere... relax... and get things ironed out... otherwise... we're headed straight for the divorce court! The hell of it is... Betty's basically... a sexy woman... She's got everything going for her...! And, I love her... but she's not turned on! Christ...! If only...
Jay had almost reached his Mustang and was delving into his jacket pocket for the car's keys, when he became aware of a racing engine behind him. He glanced back to see a car bearing down on him. Instinctively, he jumped out of the way and rolled between two parked cars. The car, a big Pontiac, had just missed him... and as he picked himself up off the asphalt, he knew it was no accident. God damn! That was close... too close! And, it's either a second warning... or the damned guy was really trying to do me in!
He hadn't had time to get a license number... but the face behind the wheel he'd know anywhere. It was the goon who'd burst into his office to give the detective some "advice".
Forgotten was his intention to go home; instead, he drove to police headquarters, where he spent an hour or more poring over mug shots. He found what he was looking for and lodged a formal complaint against: Stearns, John W., also called Jack, one former conviction for armed robbery; an extortion case was dismissed... for lack of evidence. There was a long string of assaults in his record, as well as three busts for bookmaking.
"We don't have anything pending on him... right now," the duty Lieutenant told Ballard, then asked, "What happened...?"
"He tried to kill me... with his car, in the parking lot of my office building!" Jay said vehemently.
"Do you know why, Jay?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," Jay answered, evasively.
"Okay... well try to pick him up on this!"
After all the details were taken care of... it was too late to drive home, so he drove south, to Newport... picked up a bite to eat at a drive-in and continued his search for Carla Reynolds, whom he was convinced was somehow the key to the whole situation.
It was around midnight when Jay hit pay-dirt. He found a bartender in a plush bar who knew Carla, and a five dollar bill was enough to get him her telephone number. The rest was easy. He located the apartment building, checked it and found her apartment empty.
Settling down to wait and watch, he was determined to see her... and get information from her one way or the other.
A little after one in the morning, Carla arrived... with a man. Hell! She's picked up an all night trick!
He made for the nearest pay telephone and dialed her number, sure that she would answer... if things weren't too far along.
"Hello... Carla Baby!" he said, slurring his words, purposely, "I'm here... all primed... an' ready for some fun!"
"Who is this?" she demanded.
"You don't know me, Baby... I'm from out of town... but I heard 'bout you... an..."
"But... what's your name... and what do you want...?"
"Name's Jay... Jay Ballard... and I don't have to tell you what I'm after, Baby!" he slurred. "... An' I got the money to pay for it with... you get me...?"
"It's late... and I..."
"Yeah... I can guess... some other bastard beat me to the punch... for the rest of the night... right...?"
"Well... you know..."
"Kick 'im out... and I'll be right over!"
"No... you don't understand..."
"The hell I don't!"
"... But, maybe we could work something out... for tomorrow..." She hated to let him go... without making some arrangement... for later.
"Tomorrow... afternoon...?" he queried.
"Yes... that'll be Okay... Give me a call...?"
"Sure, Baby... I'll call you... 'cause I've got three more days... and a bad need... for some real fun and games!"
"Around two... Okay...?"
"That's perfect, Carla Baby! You got yourself a date!"
He hung up, quick, grinning his satisfaction. Well... I've got a date... that's going to be fun to keep!
Jay was on time. Before he went up to Carla's apartment, he put his .38 in the glove compartment of his car and clipped the little Berreta to the inside back of his pants waistband. There was no point in being completely unprepared.
Carla greeted him at the door. "Jay...?" she asked.
"Yeah... and it's sure been a long wait!"
She didn't let him in, just yet. "Where'd you get my telephone number?" Carla demanded.
Ballard told her the name of the bartender and the location of the place. "... And, it cost me five!" he concluded.
Satisfied that he was not a vice-squad officer, she opened the door to admit him.
"Do you quiz everybody... like that?" Jay asked.
"Well... I've got to be careful, you know..."
"Yeah... I suppose so..." he agreed, stepping in close to take her in his arms, to kiss her.
She seemed to be reluctant, as he probed at her lips with his tongue, his hands moving down over the softness of her straight back to the rounded protuberances of her full-orbed buttocks and discovering in the process that she wore no encumbering bra or panties. His hands dug into the resilient flesh of them, hungrily.
Twisting her lips away, Carla told him, firmly, "It's fifty dollars... in advance!"
"You're lovely..." Jay told her with a disarming grin, "but you must have a cash register... in place of a heart."
He watched her gathering frown, as she tried to work up some anger over what he had said; the frown turned to a smile, though, when she reached out for the fifty dollar bill he took out of his wallet. She had balanced it out, quickly, for herself... in favor of the money.
Silently, she turned away, her walk studiedly provocative as she headed for the bedroom. Smart-ass! I'll give him a quickie... and kick him out of here!
Jay didn't follow.
Looking back over her shoulder at him, she said, "Well...? The bedroom's back here!"
"That fifty ought to buy a drink... too..." he suggested.
"Okay... what'll it be?" She was disappointed that he wanted to delay.
"Scotch-rock'll be fine," Jay grunted, dropping into a comfortable chair.
Carla fixed the drinks and brought them. Handing him his drink, she sat on the sofa, facing him, tucking up her legs, her mini-shift riding up and giving him a clear view of her curvaceously tapered thighs and a flashing glimpse of auburn-tinted pubic hair to match the dark red of her carefully combed, lustrous hair.
He smiled his lewd appreciation, and hoisting his glass in toast, said, "Here's to what makes the world go around!"
"Sex...?" she smiled.
"No! Money!" He took a long swallow of his drink, then as he looked over at her, again, he added, "It's the one thing people'll do almost anything for!"
His remark made her feel uncomfortable. She tried to change the subject. "Did you come here... just to drink and talk...?"
"Hell no! I came here on business!" Jay told her, setting his glass down on the coffee table and getting up to strip off his jacket and tie, before sitting down, again, next to her on the couch. She started to cringe away from him, thinking she had made a mistake about him, after all. Twice before, she had been busted by vice-squad men, and she was frightened, momentarily, until he added, with a grin, "Your business... that is..."
He took her, solidly, into his arms, and his lips sought for and found hers, but this time, it was her moist, pink tongue that came surging into his mouth, searchingly, as his hands began to explore the soft contours of her lush body.
Cupping the resilient mound of a perfectly sculptured breast through the soft material of her dress, he kneaded it massagingly, and felt the tiny nipple spiking out hard and erect into the palm of his hand, while below, between his own legs, the natural and normal reaction began to take place.
There was the crawling lift of his scrotum pulling his balls up close to his body and the throbbing fullness in his penis as it became blood-engorged in a growing erection. He'd have to hold himself back... if his plan for Carla were to work. Damn it... just concentrate on getting her worked up!
He knew, from past experience, that many prostitutes didn't allow themselves to become involved with their johns; they just faked it all the way... made the guy think he was really getting a good lay, while she remained completely detached. Jay, consciously, tried to repress his own sexuality; at the same time he stimulated her, reversing the roles.
Sliding his hand down across her flat belly, then out along the smooth whiteness of a finely tapered thigh, he went in under the short length of her dress, allowing his warm hand to massage the soft flesh up the smooth inner side, moving upward, slowly, until he was rummaging in the angle of her thighs, caressing the curling fleeciness of her pubic hair; meanwhile, he was forcing her back, by slow degrees, until she was lying supine on the couch, beneath him, her legs straightened out, now, and parted slightly. Smoothly, he slipped a finger down into the moist warmth of her pussy, pressuring in through the fleshy folds from the top and parting the sparse adornment of hair, to find the tiny, erectly throbbing bud of her clitoris. His finger rubbed at it, teasingly, gently bringing it to even greater hardness; then, using two fingers, together, he drummed a tattoo up and down its short, pulsating length. He was rewarded by feeling the erotic spasms of it in her body and the tiny grinding undulations of her loins up against his taunting fingers.
Suddenly, Carla gasped, twisting her mouth away, savagely, and moaning, "Damn you... you're not like most of the others... who just want a quick fuck! You've got to make like the great lover!"
"What's your objection, Baby?"
"I just don't like to... make it... really make it with the johns... and besides... it takes up my time!"
"Well... Carla, Baby... you're going to make it with me... all the way!" he promised.
"Let's go into the bedroom... then!"
"Suits me..." Jay agreed, leaning back to allow her to get up.
The detective followed her into the bedroom, removing his shirt and undershirt, as he walked, and watching the provocative sway of her hips.
Once inside the bedroom, Carla whipped off her mini-sheath to reveal the voluptuous curves of her soft, womanly body. As she tossed her dress to the back of a vanity chair, Jay came in behind her, his arms going around her, under her arms, his itching hands clutching at the full, softly pliant mounds of her breasts, while his lips came down to kiss her delicately sloping shoulders and the nape of her neck. She shivered with delight and turned in the circle of his arms to press her nakedly curvaceous body up against him with a mewling moan of building passion. He felt the erect cones of her hardened nipples press in, tightly, against his own naked, hairy chest, while below her hips gyrated in tiny circles against the lengthening hardness of his almost fully erect, throbbing cock.
Jay's hands swarmed over her, smoothing the svelte contours of her body, his strong fingers kneading the resilient, warm flesh of her full-orbed buttocks. Then, his mouth was on hers, his tongue bursting through her lips to probe deep into the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. He did it with more ardor than he felt... on purpose. I want her really hot to trot... before I really start working her over!
After a moment or two, she broke the kiss and murmured, "I don't know why... I'm letting you do this..."
"Because you like it... I imagine!" he grunted, walking her backward the short distance to the edge of the bed.
As the backs of her knees contacted the edge of the bed, he pushed the auburn-haired beauty back onto it and stepped back. Quickly, he shed his shoes, socks and pants, leaving only his shorts to cover him, partially.
Sprawling there on the bed, where he had shoved her down, Carla's legs were splayed, obscenely, and he could see the pink flesh of her pussy, glistening dully moist and palpitant in the dim light of the bedroom.
Inside his shorts, his massive erection stirred and jerked involuntarily, and Carla's eyes were glued to the spot, her interest intense.
This man's lips, tongue and hands had ignited a slow fuse that was sputtering away in her, and she was trapped in a morass of ecstatic sensations that raced through her voluptuous body in waves of erotic anticipation. The thing that really bothered her... and the reason she didn't want to become involved, this afternoon... was the telephone call she had received just before Jay's arrival. It was Joan who had called... and Carla had convinced her to come to her apartment that same afternoon. She had already agreed to having Jay there... but she hated to turn him away and lose the money. She hated worse the fact that he had turned out to be so ardent. Now... I'm all worked up... and I'll have to go through with it! Not that she didn't like the idea of being turned on by a man; she had been thinking of Joan, and the delicious things she had in mind for her. It had been farthest from her mind that she'd be responding to Jay... but she was. There was nothing she could do about it... now... She just hoped that she could get rid of him... before Joan arrived.
A mewling hum of anticipation emitted from her throat, as her eyes devoured him, watching the lurch of the outsized bulge in his shorts. Then, her own hands, well-manicured and lotion-softened, slid, sinuously, up over her body to the full moons of her breasts, where her fingers played, narcissistically, with the distended, berry-like buds of her nipples, the darker pink of their aureoles drawing up in sensitive wrinkles of soft flesh.
"God!" she moaned, finally, anxious for him to go on now, "Get your shorts off... so you can start fucking me... with that big cock of yours!"
While Jay had been watching her, he had reached back of him, to get the object he needed, from his shirt pocket. Now, he held it behind him, a lewd smile of anticipation on his face. She's hot... already... and it won't be long... now... before she'd be crawling up the walls!
Carla closed her eyes, expecting that he would be on top of her, digging and poking at her body and shoving his hard cock into her cunt. Then, he'd fuck her for all he was worth... until he came, frantically... and that would be that...
... But, it didn't happen that way!
She was caught by surprise, as the unexpected happened. Her body jerked, spasmodically, involuntarily, at the light, tickle of something that was moving inch by tortuous inch up the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, heading, she knew for the pulsating portal of her cuntal passage that gaped open to him, because of her obscenely splayed thighs.
Her eyes flew open, widening, as she gaped down to where Jay was leaning over her, a gaily colored blue and green peacock feather held in his fingers, lightly, as he twirled it, teasingly, on her vibrant, sex-tingling flesh. Instantly, she clamped her legs together.
"What the hell... do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
Jay grinned down at her, salaciously. "Getting you good and ready... for some wild fucking!" he told her, and went right on with his tantalizing torture of her, dragging it now up the valley of her close-held thighs.
Instinctively, her hands flew to her pubic mound, protectively, knowing in a flash that if he were actually to use the feather on her cunt there would be no end to her arousal... and she didn't want that. She still held the image, in her mind, of the expected pleasures she would have with the dark-haired Joan... when she arrived.
"My God, Jay... don't do that... to me!"
"Why not...?" he grunted. "It feels good... doesn't it?"
"Yes... but it's torture!"
"Not really! This'll turn you on... like nothing you've ever had before!" he grated, intent on what he was doing. "So you might as well lie back and enjoy it... for a while!"
Catching up her hands by the wrists, in a steel-fingered grasp, he pulled them away from the pulsating slit of her pussy.
"Now... open your legs!" he ordered.
"No! I-I won't let you do it!"
"I've paid you... in advance... you little whore!" he bellowed. "And, I'll do what the hell I please! Understand?"
Carla understood. She slowly relaxed the muscles of her thighs, to allow them to spread apart for his idea of fun. It could be worse! She told herself. At least... he's not one of the weird ones with whips... and crazy clothes!
The detective's triumph over her gave him a definite edge, now. Damn! It won't be long... until she's begging for mercy! Then... we'll see...
Jay released her hands, then, and focusing his full attention on what he was doing, began to tantalize her naked flesh with the peacock feather.
Groaning with helplessness, Carla felt the teasing lightness of the soft tip of the feather, as it tracked tiny circles of fire on the smooth skin of her inner thighs, darting into the hollows on either side of her sparsely hair fringed cuntal lips. She could have screamed with the excruciating torment, as it moved, relentlessly, toward its obvious target, through a deviously tortuous route.
Inexorably, the feather in his hand moved closer and closer, until finally, it trailed into the coralline moistness of her vaginal furrow, fringed, lightly, with the soft auburn curls of her pubic hair. Around and around he twisted it, dipping into her cuntal opening, momentarily, only to drag it, between the inner, petal-like lips that had begun to flower open with blood engorgement, and as he watched with lewd satisfaction he saw them begin to turn to a darker shade of pink.
Never had Carla experienced such an ecstatically sexy, nerve-charged, exciting sensation. She writhed on the bed, her hips undulating up to that torturing feather, and her breath came in uncontrolled, short, sharp pantings, as she felt him thrust it, twirlingly, in and out of her moist cuntal passage, igniting searing flames of desire that raced, unchecked in her nerve endings, like an all-consuming prairie fire, leaping before a strong wind and destroying all in its path.
She was ready... and already she had had enough of the feather, as she became aware of the slippery, warm moisture that exuded from the inner walls of her vaginal tunnel to ooze in viscid droplets into her cuntal portal. God! She was on fire with a desire she had never before felt.
"Oh, my God... Jay! Stop it! I can't stand it!" she groaned. "Stop playing around with me... and fuck me... damn it!"
"Later... Baby!"
Jay wasn't about to stop... yet; he wanted her completely helpless... He twisted the feather farther into the moist depths of her cent; then finally, after long moments it left her vagina and pirouetted upward to dance through the sparse, auburn fringe to the pulsating bud of her erectile clitoris, hidden in the defile of her womanly slit. He moved it, tormentingly, up and down the short length of the miniature phallus, coming to rest with a twirling motion on the sensitive triangle of its blood-engorged, sensitive head. She stifled a scream. Never, ever, had she experienced such exquisite agony... and joy, at the same time. She killed the building scream, in her throat, because she wouldn't allow him to know that he had subjugated her with an insignificant feather.
The peacock feather, in Jay's hand, danced teasingly on her throbbing clitoris for only a few moments, and just at the point when she was sure she could stand no more of it, the lust-inciting feather was suddenly gone. Then, she felt it trailing up through the fleecy softness of her pubic hair, across her abdomen and out over the flat, white plane of her smooth belly, dipping with a saucy twirl into the shallow depression of her navel and moving out to her groin to tantalize the soft hollows there.
Suddenly, with a broad sweep, the teasing peacock feather was on her breasts, orbiting them in a figure eight, which grew smaller with each evolution, moving upward on the full mounds of her trembling, white breasts, until it circled the crowning, cameo-pink of her hard-coned nipples.
Soft, mewling whimpers began to come, unbidden, from her lips, as the torturing feather, still moist from the dews of her cuntal opening, moved in ever smaller circles, until it proscribed only one of the hardened, erectile nipples, playing on the crinkled flesh of the aureole, then on the pink column of the tiny nipple itself, her quivering breasts set all atingle with the lascivious sensations it generated in them.
Then, Carla found herself wriggling her shoulders, her torso writhing, as she attempted to shove her breasts up against the teasing tip of the feather in Jay's hand. Her body, already crazed with overpowering desire, wanted more... and yet more.
She felt as though she were in a strong undertow, being dragged under water, and she was helpless in its grip. She was aware only of the throbbing ache of her loins that seemed to pulsate, radiatingly into her whole abdomen, the exuded, viscous moisture there making her even more expectant, the anticipation of what she expected to come to her... soon, stabbing excitedly deep into her very being. She couldn't wait any longer, it seemed... before she'd have to have Jay's big cock in her, filling her... fulfilling her... or she'd go out of her mind.
Frantically, her hands clawed upward to the magnificent orbs of her breasts; against her will, she kneaded and massaged them, cruelly, pressing them up from her supine, quivering body, offering them to the torment like a sacrifice.
Conscious control stopped... and she surrendered her body to the total, depraved enjoyment of the sensations the twirling, dancing feather engendered in her whole body that trembled with lewd anticipation.
The teasing feather left her breasts, suddenly, and she felt it trace a salacious path down through the moistly perspirant valley between her mounding breasts to swoop down and downward again to the throbbing pink flesh of her searingly expectant cunt. She gasped with sheer ecstatic joy, as she felt the moist tip of it slide down through her auburn pubic hair, to pause, momentarily, on her clitoris, where the twitching torment of the feather left her breathlessly writhing on the bed.
Carla almost screamed with frantic frustration when it didn't stop there, on her clitoris; instead, she felt it plow, lightly, down through her cuntal furrow, until it was running in tiny, orbiting circles around the brownish, puckered ring of her anus. The full moons of her buttocks spasmed, suddenly, as the tip of the feather nestled down between the orbs of white flesh to tantalize the sensitive flesh of her clenching rear passage.
That was it! She had reached her limit of tolerance.
"OOOOooooohhhh!" she groaned, with agonized rapture, as the unbelievably powerful sensations surged, uncontrolled through her body. "Oh, Christ! I-I can't take any more, Jay! Stop it! Take that damned feather away! Please...? Oh, please?"
In spite of his resolve to hold back his own sexual arousal, Jay found himself breathing heavily, as he half leaned and half crouched between Carla's wide-spread legs, torturing her with the gaily colored feather, watching as she writhed her full-curved hips, her clenching and unclenching anus seeming to claim the teasing feather as its own. It won't be long... now! He was gleeful... But the real fun'll come... when I finally get my cock in her! She'll go of like a Roman candle... on the Fourth of July!
His massive cock throbbed achingly. It was jerking, involuntarily, with his need to get it shoved into her cunt and start fucking, but he had to control himself... keep himself from doing what she expected. This was a battle of sexual wills, which he, for now, was winning... and he wanted to keep it that way.
Jay was aware that a tiny rivulet of clear, viscous lubricating fluid was oozing from the slit in his cock head. Reaching down, he grasped the pulsating shaft of his prick and milked back the loose foreskin to reveal the fiery red crown, heavy with engorged blood; then, he used his thumb to spread the lubricant over the chunky throbbing head, as with the other hand, he kept the feather alive and dancing, twirling it up through her cuntal slit to search out, again, her clitoris, peeping out from its enfolding ridges of cunt-flesh.
Now's the time! Jay leaned over her, staring straight into her tear-glistening eyes, still keeping the feather twisting tormentingly on her clitoris, and said, "You really want me to stop, Carla, Baby...?"
"Yesssssssss! I-I can't take any... more of it!"
"Okay... I'll stop... when you tell me who paid you to set-up Arnie Pearson... for a blackmail job?"
Shock, surprise and anger all crossed her lovely face in quick succession, as everything seemed to come tumbling down for Carla. She stared at him, strickenly, then cried, "No! NO! I don't know what you're talking... about?"
"... Ah, but you do... Baby! So... start giving me the answers... fast!" He dragged the feather down through her pulsing furrow and nestled it into the sensitive flesh of her anus, again. "Who was it, Carla?"
"Nobody!"
"Then... are you the one blackmailing Pearson?"
"No! Oh, God... no! It's not me!"
"Then, who?"
"It's..." She stopped.
"Who?" He lashed the feather deep into her cunt. "Who?"
"It's Mr. Ram-Ramsey... Warren Ramsey!" She gasped. "Now... will you... stop?"
Finally, with her last gasping words, the agonizing torment was suddenly lifted from her frustrated, aching cunt, leaving her breathless, as the tense muscles of her body relaxed, slowly, and she lowered her upraised pelvis, feeling both a sense of relief and of disappointment in her nerve-tortured loins. The feather in Jay's hands had brought her to the highest level of sexual excitement she had ever experienced... and because of it she would be in mortal danger. Warren... told me... he didn't want his name connected with it at all! Jack Stearns... was going to handle everything...! If either of them... ever find out... that I spilled it... My God! I could get k-killed...!
The peacock feather had served its purpose. Jay tossed it aside. "How much did Ramsey pay you?" he rasped out at her.
"Does that make any difference...?"
"Yeah... I want to know how important this is to him?"
"Now give me a few more names!" he barked. "Who else's in on this?"
"God damn you!" Carla spat. "Why don't you fuck me... instead of giving me the third degree!?"
"Names!" he barked. "Who else?"
"Jack... Jack Stearns... and another man... I think his name is Pratt... yes that's it... Ollie Pratt..."
"Okay... the inquisition's over!" Jay told her, looking down at her sensuously squirming body, his eyes lewd and filled with pure lust for her. He couldn't help but feel jubilant, now that he had the information he needed. "Now, we can get back to important things... like sex!"
Standing to his full height, Jay Ballard grasped her ankles and pulled her unresisting body toward the edge of the bed, until her buttocks extended slightly beyond the edge of the mattress.
Quickly, then, he knelt down between her wide-spread legs and pulled her knees up over his shoulders. Now, his mouth hung just above her still wildly pulsing vaginal opening. Christ! What a gorgeous cunt! He gaped down at the narrow, moistly pink slit, its slightly irregular opening bedewed with viscous droplets of moisture and saw that it was visibly throbbing with her need. Hell... she's almost ready to pop!
Through lust-crazed eyes, Carla looked down at him, where he knelt between her legs, and she could feel the warm palms of his hands against the softly tender flesh of her inner thighs, holding them wide apart. She knew his intention, welcomed it and instinctively wanted to open her legs even farther to give him easy access to her painfully aroused cunt. She wished, dimly, that it might have been Joan, her newest conquest kneeling there, ready to lick and suck her... but since it wasn't, Jay would have to do...
Then, fascinated, anticipating his next move she watched as the detective lowered his head between her tingling thighs, while, involuntarily, her hips undulated upward to meet the delicious sensations his mouth would bring to her.
"AAAAAAAhhhhhhh!" she moaned, her body spasming, uncontrollably, as his moistly hot lips closed over her heated, pulsating cuntal mouth. Her vision blurred and her head pounded with her heartbeat, as he planted lewdly lascivious kisses on the tingling aperture of her wildly anticipating pussy, his tongue darting out to lash deep into the snug moistness of her quivering opening.
Now, her own hands moved with sure, sensuous knowledge, caressingly, over the twin hillocks of her swollen, throbbing breasts, her fingers teasing, again, the erectile, cameo-pink nipples for a moment, before they slid, sinuously, along her flat, white belly, until finally, they arrived at her groin, on either side of his lewdly sucking lips.
Stroking herself gently, her soft fingers rubbed up from the hollows of her flexing groin to the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her cunt, caressing all around them, until she could wait no longer; then, slowly, deliberately, she used her fingers to pull the pulsing lips of her pussy apart to allow his mouth the complete liberty of all her searing, moist furrow. She wanted all... and wanted to give all of herself to him.
Joan Pearson had known, almost from the first, when Arnie had met her at the airport that something was bothering him. She had tried to find out what it was... but he was closemouthed and non-committal.
Their love-making these few days was middling satisfactory; that is to say... it wasn't spectacular. No fireworks... or the earth moving under them was theirs.
Last night, Joan had wanted to put her newfound knowledge to work, knowing that if Arnie were to use his mouth on her, as Carla had... it would bring her vibrant body to exploding sexuality... but she didn't know how to bring it off... how to make her wishes known to him. In the end, she had said nothing. Arnie had fumbled through the sex act, bringing her finally to what she knew, now, was only a lower level of arousal. She had climaxed... but it was not the earth-shaking thing it could have been... if only...
There was a vague feeling of restlessness in her, on that morning... a slight sense of frustration, balanced by the knowledge that it didn't have to be that way... as she remembered the afternoon, before, with Carla... remembered how the other woman's mouth had skyrocketed her to the pinnacle of rapture.
Even though she had told herself that she wouldn't do it, she did. She picked up the telephone, which had just been installed in their apartment, and called Carla Reynolds.
The two women chatted, and in the end, Joan had agreed to come to Carla's apartment. Joan knew, when she broke the connection why she was going. She debated the question with herself... but all the arguments of her rational mind couldn't prevail over the rising excitement in her body. The more she thought about it... the more aroused and inflamed she became.
Finally, as it neared the time Carla had suggested, having told her that the "visitor" she expected would be gone already, Joan was on edge, unable to wait any longer. She called a cab, gave the driver the address and rode the fairly short distance to Carla's apartment. It's wrong... and foolish... I know... but I've just got to see her...!
Paying the cab driver, Joan walked up the stairs into the modern, apartment building and found Carla's door.
She started to ring the doorbell, but noticed that the door was standing slightly ajar. Carla was expecting her... and maybe she left the door open... on purpose... Impulsively, she gave the door an inward push. It swung open to reveal an empty living room.
"Carla...?" she called, softly.
There was no answer. She stepped inside and called out, again. She must be in the bedroom... A devilish curiosity took over. Do you suppose her visitor's still here...? Then, somehow, it seemed important for her to know: Is her visitor a man... or woman...?
Closing the door, firmly, this time, Joan walked farther into the apartment. She knew where the bedroom was and made unerringly for it, pausing to listen outside the door.
She heard the moans of a woman caught up in passion. Her curiosity led her on. I'll just peek in... then I'll leave... and come back later...
The bedroom door opened, soundlessly... and Joan saw that it was a man, who was bringing such rapture to the auburn-haired Carla.
The woman was moaning, incessantly, and as Joan watched she saw that the man kneeling between her whitely tapering thighs was using his mouth to suck and lick at her nakedly exposed cuntal slit. Carla's arms were pressed in tight against her sides, her eyes were tightly closed and her head flailed from side to side, her beautiful auburn tresses in total disarray, as she responded to the man with unbridled ecstasy. Joan knew that his mouth nuzzled up into the angle of Carla's thighs was generating all those delightful sensations reflected on her lovely face, as his agile, taunting tongue flicked out, its soft tip searching for then circling her palpitant clitoris.
Joan had really meant only to peek in then leave, as she had promised herself... but now, she stood rooted to the spot, unable to take her eyes from the hotly writhing body of the girl, Carla, on the bed.
... And, of course, that slow-building need that had been with her all day, and which had, finally, prompted her to come to Carla's apartment, burst into licking flames of desire in her loins, as she watched. She recognized it... knew that she'd have to be fulfilled... but this is Carla's little party... with her man "visitor"! She knew she should have left... right then...
Under Jay's voraciously active mouth, Carla felt his lips suck at her, drawing the warm, tender petals of her flowered-open cunt into the hot cavern of his mouth; then, it was her clitoris that received the attention of his licking tongue. He drew the tiny, erect bud up between his lips to suck it for a moment, before finally taking it lightly in his teeth, while his tongue teased its short length with sensuous flickings of his lingual member. She groaned out her pleasure from deep in her throat, mewling and purling as now the hot, searching tip of his sinuous tongue worked its way up and down the narrow length of her soft, pulsating furrow, beginning at her lower belly and pressuring its way down to the softly pliant opening of her hungrily clasping cuntal opening. Inexorably, then, his tongue worked lower and lower, down into the crevice of her resiliently hollowing buttocks, pausing, momentarily, to probe, moistly, at the tight, puckered ring of her sensitively clenching anal opening below. She gasped with the erotic shock of it, and her hips ground up at him, wildly, begging for more and yet more of the same.
Standing there in the doorway of Carla's bedroom, guiltily watching, Joan couldn't drag herself away... couldn't stop watching the lewd sex act. Almost hypnotically, her own hands sneaked up to her tingling breasts and caressed them through her dress. She had not worn bra or panties, daringly, knowing deep in the back of her mind her real reason for coming to the auburn-haired woman's apartment... Then, her hands moved down, down and down... until they smoothed into the hollows of her groin, and one of them snaked over to cover her pubic mound, a finger then going into the fleshy fold of sensitive flesh to her already erect clitoris. Unconsciously she rubbed, gently, at herself, through the light material of her mini-shift. Oh, God... I'm getting so aroused... but there's nothing I can do... now... except... But, she didn't like to do that... to herself...
Carla's unceasing moans seemed to drive Jay's tongue faster and faster, as he slaved away at her steamingly voracious loins. Damn! He wanted the little bitch begging for it... screaming in agony to be fucked, when he was ready to shove his big cock into her. It was sadistic, he knew... and she was already more than ready, as he had taunted her with the feather... and now with his mouth... But, she'll know she's been fucked... when I'm through with her... because she'll blow her nuts... and just keep blowing! He liked it that way!
Suddenly, the excitedly writhing girl reached out to entangle her fingers in his hair, guiding his face in tight to the palpitating vestibule of her cuntal passage, snugging him in between her wide-splayed legs... and he stabbed his stiffened tongue deeply into the moist depths of her vaginal opening; then he withdrew it to flick, teasingly, swirlingly, around the ragged, coral-pink edges.
With lustful, sex-crazed strength, she pulled his head in even closer, pressing his mouth directly over the thin, vertical opening of her demandingly searing passage, and as his lips ovalled and covered the softly bearded mouth, he thrust his tongue into it, deeply, again, flicking it in and out, now, to a set tempo, in imitation of a fucking cock.
From deep in her throat emitted a low, guttural, animal-like groan, and below, her warm, trembling thighs closed, convulsively around either side of his slightly bobbing head. Carla was in a rapturous state, beyond all reason.
Jay could feel, clearly, the moist flesh of her silky smooth vaginal walls, as they slipped, sheathingly, around his long, agile tongue, the lining of her cunt seeming to clasp, pulsingly, around it in a tiny, milking motion of its own. Her heels, swung up over his back, pressed down hard, as she lifted her loins up to him, undulantly, and he felt almost as though he were caught in a fleshy trap. She pulled him in so hard that he could barely breathe.
For the several moments Joan had stood there, transfixed, she had concentrated her attention almost exclusively on watching what the unknown man was doing, down there, between Carla's lovely thighs, but now, her eyes wandered over the kneeling man's body. It was trim and hard-muscled, and he was a big man, she decided; although not as tall or heavy as Arnie. Then, below, she saw the hardened massiveness of his erectile penis, spearing out from his hairy loins. It was jerking and throbbing, wildly, and she could see the glistening droplets of clear, viscous fluid on its fiery, blood-engorged head. She gasped, aloud, a tiny sound, but it cut across the other sounds in the room... the soft mewlings from Carla... and the obscene sucking noises that the man's mouth made as he lashed his tongue deep into the auburn fringed orifice of her seething cuntal passage.
Carla heard it. Her eyes fluttered open to see Joan standing there. Joan, aware that her presence was known, turned in confusion to leave, her face turning crimson with her quick blush, as she was caught in her voyeuristic role.
"Oohh, Joan!" Carla breathed. "You're here... but don't go!" Instantly, she knew. She wanted Joan... too! Then, to Jay, she cried out, imploringly, "Jay... Let me up... now, so I can do Joan... while you fuck me... at the same time... please?"
Jay stopped, momentarily, looked up at her and asked, "Joan...? Who's she?"
"M-My girlfriend...!"
Jay looked around, startled, to see Joan standing in the doorway, poised, ready for flight. Then, he understood what Carla wanted, as he saw the dark-haired beauty of the young woman... and appraised her luscious body that was barely hidden by the light mini-shift she wore.
"Hell yes...!" he agreed. "It suits me fine... if she wants to..."
Carla released his hair, then, and Jay stood up, while she scrambled off the bed, her lust-filled eyes devouring Joan's figure. "You will... won't you... Joan...?"
"I-I don't know... Carla..." Joan stumbled. "I-I'll come back... later..." She turned, again, to leave the room.
Frantically, Carla scampered after her and trapped her in her naked arms. "Joan, honey...?" she pleaded. "I want you... and need you... too!" She felt her trembling body, her nipples, hard and erect, poking into her own naked breasts through the light material of her dress and knew that the black-haired woman was aroused, sexually. Then, as her hands smoothed down Joan's back, caressingly, to the full-orbed protuberances of her buttocks, she discovered that the other woman wore no panties either.
Joan moaned in her arms, as Carla's mouth sought hers and kissed her deeply; then, with gentle insistence, Carla moved her toward the bed, walking her backwards... until when they reached the edge of the bed, Carla laid her unresisting body down supine upon it.
Helplessly, Joan found herself on the bed, lying crosswise, and as Carla slithered down her body, she felt her dress being lifted and shoved up to her hips; then, as the beautiful auburn haired woman pried her legs apart and crawled in between them, she knew she couldn't resist any longer.
With an agonized moan of anticipation, she looked down to see Carla crouched between her legs, her mouth dropping down between her softly tapering thighs. Then, as the other woman's hotly moist tongue made electric-arcing contact with the sensitive flesh of her cuntal furrow, she gasped, aloud and raised her hips up, undulantly, in full submission to the highly erotic stimulation of her lashing tongue.
Jay had waited the few moments none too patiently. His cock had been incited to a jerking rock-hardness... and he had held himself back, purposely, for too long already. Damn! His balls ached, and he had to get his cock shoved into her... and start fucking, now! If he didn't... Hell! I'll be shooting my cum all over the place!
No sooner had Carla crouched down between Joan's legs, her smooth, white buttocks waving nakedly up behind her, than Jay moved in smoothly to stand in back of her, his hands reaching out, claw-like, to grasp her swiveling hips.
With a frantic moan, he flexed his pelvis forward, as he used the power of his arms to haul her buttocks back to him; at the same time, his wildly pulsating cockhead nudged into her heated vaginal opening. Then, glancing down quickly to see that he was on target, he rammed his hugely throbbing cock deep into her cuntal passage, in one powerfully smooth thrust. He felt her backward push against him and heard her gasp of pleasure, as his pubic bone smacked up hard into the smooth crevice between her whitely trembling buttocks.
Carla's agile, knowing tongue snaked out to lick insanely at Joan's erect, pulsatingly hard clitoris, concentrating on the tiny, sensitive head of it. The exquisitely racing sensations caused her to moan aloud; then as she heard Carla's sharply in-drawn gasp, she looked up to see that the man Carla had called Jay was standing behind her woman lover's buttocks, a contorted look of pure lust on his face, as he rammed his massive, fully erect cock deep into Carla's warmly clasping vaginal opening. In that instant, she realized that she was now part of a three-linked chain, with Carla being the middle length... both active and passive... giving and receiving, at one and the same time. It crossed her mind faintly: Will they be expecting m-me... to... to do that... too...? Then, she wondered for a moment about it... wondered what she would do... or whether she would even consider it... if it came up, but she forgot it promptly. Those delicious sensations down there, between her legs, were driving her wild with sensual delirium, and mindlessly, she ground her loins up to Carla's hungry mouth, to seek a forbidden ecstasy again.
Standing behind Carla, Jay drove his goring cock in and out of her, like a rutting boar, as his aching, rock-hard shaft soared far up into the warm, moist depths of her clasping vaginal sheath.
... And Carla, who had spiraled upward to the very brink of her orgasm... and hung there for what seemed an eternity, stimulated first by that tormenting feather then by his licking, sucking mouth, was nudged over the edge quickly, into soaring orgasm... a release that shattered her, as she convulsed, again and again, under his plundering assault from the rear. She exploded like a stick of dynamite, with a delayed fuse.
Finally... she was there. She came, screaming, "Oh, my God! IIIII'mmmmm Cuuuuuummmmmmmiiiiiinnngg! AAAAMAAaaaaaaauuuuuuuggggghhhhh!"
Her vision dimmed, hearing blurred, and suddenly she was weak, unable to hold herself up on knees and elbows. She collapsed into a satiated heap on top of Joan, moaning out her exquisite joy, almost unconscious from the intensity of her final release... and, as she collapsed, falling forward to lie prone on top of Joan, Jay's rampaging cock was pulled clear of her still moistly milking cunt, to leave them both frustrated and unsatiated.
Joan groaned, "Oh... p-please... Carla... keep on doing it?"
"God damn!" Jay exploded. "Just when it was getting good!"
Desperately he tried to haul the auburn-haired one's hips back into position, but she was relaxed, dead weight, her body refusing to function. Christ! He had to go on... now, and with Carla out of action, there was only one thing left to do...
Pausing only long enough to roll Carla's sex-satisfied body aside, he crawled up between the softly grinding whiteness of Joan's still widespread thighs and wedged himself down between them.
"Joan, Baby -- whoever you are..." he growled, "we're both in the same boat... frustrated as hell... and I'm going to fuck you... right now!"
It was confusing. Things had happened so fast that Joan hadn't time to think about it at all. It just happened... and she let it happen. She didn't object, because it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh, God... yessss!" she gasped, reaching down between them to guide the massively hardened shaft of his cock straight into her searingly aroused cuntal passage.
Flicking his hips, Jay plunged the hardness of his almost bursting cock deep into the moistly clinging depths of her pussy, goring into her with demonic fury... and on the instant, Joan became an adulteress, helpless to change the firm course of events. She could not have denied the demands of her sexually aroused body then... even if she had wanted to do so. Her tensions building during the day, her watching Jay and Carla... followed by the taunting stimulation of Carla's mouth all worked against her... and she was too far gone...
Joan groaned as his throbbingly lust-inflated cock slammed deep into her, the bulbous head pressing waves of her tender vaginal walls ahead of it, until with a sharp smack, his sperm-laden balls slapped up against the nakedness of her trembling upturned buttocks.
Afraid that he had held himself back too long, Jay began to fuck in and out of her hungrily clasping young vaginal sheath with insane, plundering lunges, using all the strength of his body to drive his demanding cock deeper and deeper and faster and faster, while beneath him, Joan, oblivious to all but the ecstatic sensations racing through her, began to match him, lifting her loins up to him in counteringly undulant gyrations.
... and suddenly she was on a run-away escalator that hurtled her upwards toward her orgasm... and she heard herself, chant up into his face, "Fuck me! Hard! Oh, God... fuck me!"
Instinctively, she pulled her thighs back to her chest, until her aching, perspiring breasts were mashed flat, and she felt him bear down hard on her, his torso pressing her legs back even farther. The whole of her now hotly pulsating pussy was offered up to him, allowing him to thrust all the more deeply into her wildly convulsing belly.
Writhing sensuously under him, Joan's head flailed from side to side, as she climaxed in shuddering emotional release, her body seeming to soar into deep space, where for a moment, there was no time or place, only the rapture of completion, the fulfillment of a promise.
"Oooooh... OOOOOooooohhhhhh! Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" she screamed. "I'm... going... to... cuuuuummmmmmm!"
Several slamming strokes later, Jay's spewing orgasm came to him, his hotly jetting semen racing the full length of his wildly pumping cock to splash deep up into the moist warmth of her involuntarily milking cuntal passage. Then, with a groan, he slumped down on top of her, completely spent... satisfied. "God damn!" he blurted. Two of them! I fucked two women... one after the other!
Beneath him, Joan felt the throbbing lurches of his pumping cock, as her own sexual excitement began slowly to subside... and, then, reality intruded. Suddenly, she realized what had happened. OOooh, my God! I've just cheated on Arnie! It's adultery...! And, I didn't want that... didn't intend to... to...
Tears of remorse began streaming down her eyes. I've got to get out... of here! "Let me up!" she wailed.
Jay complied, rolling away from her to his side, as she quickly scrambled off the bed, pulled her skirt down around her thighs and made for the door.
Raising herself up on an elbow, Carla called after her, "Joan, honey... don't leave, yet... please?"
Her plea fell on deaf ears. Joan was determined to leave. She was already at the front door, when Carla called to her, again, "Will you... come back, Joan?"
The door slammed.
"Joan... who...?" Jay asked. Hell! I never saw her naked!
"I don't know... just Joan..." Carla answered dismally. "She'll probably not... come back, again."
"Do you have a thing with her?"
"We could have... I think!"
He reached out for her to take her into his arms, but she resisted him, saying, "You got all... and more than you came for... so you might as well buzz off, too!"
Jay knew she was right. "Okay..." he agreed.
"Are you a private detective...?"
"Yeah..."
"I hope you drop dead!" she snapped vehemently. "... Because... if they ever find out... you were here..."
"Don't worry... everything you told me is confidential! I'll never tell!" he assured her.
"Oh, God, I hope so! Now, get the hell out of here!"
Chapter Five
After Jay had dressed and left her apartment, Carla did some fast, serious thinking. The longer she stayed where she was the greater her danger, for she was sure that the detective's visit and the information he had tortured out of her could very well be her death warrant.
Throwing on a robe, she raced into the living room, picked up the phone and dialed a local travel agency. Quickly, it was settled. She could pick up her airline ticket within the hour and catch her flight to Chicago at six that same evening. Then, she'd catch a quick flight on a feeder line... And, nobody'll be able to find me... on that little farm in Indiana! She hated the idea of living there again, but she knew it would be safe. Maybe, I'll only have to stay there for six months... a year at most!
Hastily, then, she began to pack, making a careful selection of her clothing. She would only take one bag, she decided, because she was just going to disappear... leaving everything just as it was in her apartment. There won't be any suspicion for a couple of days... and that's just enough time... for me to lose myself... in the backwoods...
The telephone rang.
She decided to ignore it. Getting packed and leaving, as soon as she could was more important. Time might be running out on her, and she wasn't taking any chances.
Betty Ballard was worried sick. She had hardly seen her husband for three days. He had come home in the early morning hours, either too tired or too drunk... crawled into bed and gone to sleep, completely ignoring her; then, he was up and gone again, before she could have a chance to talk with him.
She knew he was absorbed in his work. Every case, it seemed, was his most important... But, he hasn't even wanted to talk to me... Or touch me... ever since that night... he forced me... when he was so drunk...
Was it possible he was making good on his threat... that he was having an affair with another woman... or maybe he was getting ready to leave her...? It's not fair! Just when I was going to... make some changes in my own ideas... and let him do some of those things... he's always wanting to do...
Getting ready to do the clothes washing, she emptied out pockets of Jay's shirts, before popping them into the automatic machine. Ordinarily, she didn't pay attention to the items she removed from his pockets; she just set them aside for her husband to go through, keeping what was important and throwing the rest away. Today, however, a scrap of paper caught her eye. It was a telephone number and a woman's name: Carla Reynolds... the day's date and the time, 2:00 p.m. all written in Jay's scribbled hand. Below, almost indecipherable was a notation that read: B-Girl! i.e. Arnie P. makes pick-ups at Premiere Room, cocktail lounge...
Betty looked at it as though it were a writhing snake. Did it mean that Jay had an afternoon date with a prostitute? She didn't want to believe that; after all, his work as a private investigator did put him into contact with all kinds of people, including prostitutes. She must be a source of information... or she's involved in a case... somehow...
She tried to forget it... but all during the day, as she went about her household chores, the shopping and, later, at the hairdresser's, it gnawed at her, creating in her mind some doubt as to her husband's reason for making such an appointment. If he were playing around... with another woman... a housewife... or a secretary... I could understand it, and maybe... I could fight it...! But going to a cheap little whore... God! What can I do about it? UGH!
Finally, it was almost three o'clock. She had been conjuring up mental fantasies concerning Jay... and a whore named Carla, wondering vague things... about how they would be doing it. Then, she couldn't stand any more of it. There was one way to find out...
Retrieving the doubt-producing scrap of paper from Jay's desk, she dialed the telephone number, realizing as she did that it was an out-of-area prefix. She let it ring five times. There was no answer. She hung up and looked up the prefix in the telephone directory, discovering that it was a number in Corona del Mar. All the way down there...?
Five minutes later, she dialed, again.
"Hello...?" It was a woman's voice, cautious and a little hesitant.
I hope I can pull this off! "Hello..." Betty said, "this is Mr. Ballard's secretary... I have an urgent message for him!"
"He's not here!"
"Are you Miss... Carla Reynolds...?" Betty asked. "He had some kind of appointment with you... I believe..."
"Yes... I'm Carla! He was here... but he's gone now! Sorry... I can't help you..." She was brisk, anxious to end the conversation.
"Then... he did get to interview you...?"
Carla's laugh was brittle. "That's a good one! It's the first time I've ever heard it called that!"
"I'm sorry... I-I don't understand..."
"Then... you don't know why your boss was here?"
"No... he-he didn't tell me..."
"Well... he interviewed me... while we were both naked on my bed! Does that explain it?"
"Yes... yes, it does!" There was a catch in Betty's voice.
"... And, I hope to hell I never see him, again!" The line went dead.
Carrying her single suitcase, Carla left her apartment, purposely leaving several lights burning. She closed the door, locked it and went down the stairs to the carport.
Just as she was putting the bag in her car, it was roughly taken out of her hand.
She gasped, as she looked up into the unsmiling face of Jack Stearns. He hefted the suitcase. "This feels like it's a little overweight... that is... if you happened to be going somewhere on an airline!"
"It's... j-just some things I'm taking... to a girlfriend's house..." she lied.
"Now... that's a coincidence!" Jack spat out at her. "A real coincidence... that just a few minutes after Mr. Jay Ballard leaves here... you decide to take a little trip...!"
"I don't know... wh-what you're talking about!"
"Ballard's a private eye... and he's working for Arnie Pearson!" he barked. "Does that jog your memory?"
"You're wrong!" she gasped.
"No, I'm not! Now, what did you tell him...?"
"Nothing! What could I tell him? I don't know anything!"
"Tell that to Warren... when we get there!" he told her grimly. "Now... get into my car! Don't cause any commotion... and you won't get hurt!"
God! How did I get involved... in all this?
When Arnie Pearson had left Jay Ballard's office the day before, it hadn't taken him long to realize that he was being followed.
He first spotted the car while he was still on the streets, before gaining the freeway south. To find out for sure, he stopped at a newsstand, examined some magazines casually and finally bought a paper. The driver of the big Oldsmobile pulled past his parked car and stopped to wait. He wasn't able to get a good look at the driver, but he noted the letter and number combinations of the Olds' license tags... So, now they're tailing me! Trying to find out where I've moved to... no doubt.
Getting back into his car, he headed for the freeway. The Oldsmobile stuck right with him... as he drove fast... then slowed down. The Olds' driver stayed right behind him through a couple of lane changes. There's no doubt at all! He's following me!
Arnie settled down to travel at sixty-five miles an hour in the number two lane of four lanes. He held his speed steady for seven or eight miles; then, he began slowing down, little by little, until he was cruising at fifty-five. The Olds crept up closer, until there were only four or five car-lengths between them.
Then, as he was approaching an off-ramp, and the third and fourth lanes were clear on his right, he suddenly gunned his rental Ford, cut across the two open lanes and darted into the off ramp, leaving the driver of the Olds a choice of following him to a certain crack-up, if he attempted the same maneuver, too late... or continuing on down the freeway safely, losing Arnie, in the process. The driver of the Olds realized too late what had happened. It was impossible for him to follow. He chose the freeway and lost his man. Damn! I made it! And, all that guy knows is that I was headed south!
Making his way westward on one of the boulevards, Arnie found the coast route and followed it south towards home.
It worried him; things were rapidly coming to the boiling point. He was on edge... and he was cloddish with Joan in bed that night. Afterwards, he didn't sleep too well.
Now, the following day, he had spent at the Olympic working out, because he didn't want to get out of condition completely. He showered, spent several minutes swapping stories with some of the other boxers, then left the gymnasium to head for home.
This time, it was a big, green Pontiac that followed him. I'll have to shake this guy... for good... I guess... As he drove along the streets, his mind churned, trying to think of something. An idea formed in his brain. Damn it! Of course... that's it! Carry the fight to him!
Spotting a corner news kiosk, Arnie pulled in to park, hopped out of the car, on the right side, and sprinted along the sidewalk for three or four car-lengths. Ducking into a doorway, he waited.
The driver of the Pontiac, he saw, was the same man who had followed him the day before, and just as he had, yesterday, his pursuer pulled ahead of Arnie's parked car, angled into the curb and stopped.
Arnie walked out into the street and approached the car from the left front. The driver was twisted around, looking over his shoulder to where he expected his quarry to be at the newsstand.
Jerking the door open, Arnie hauled the man out and slammed him up hard against the rear fender.
"You looking for me?" he growled.
The man who had been trailing him was husky, heavily muscled and Arnie saw that his face bore the marks of many a bout, the gloves of his opponents having cut him, time after time.
"What the hell?" the old fighter snarled, his hand diving into a jacket pocket and coming up holding a snub-nosed pistol.
Arnie grabbed the gun hand and smashed it against the fender of the car. He heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones. The pistol dropped to the ground. The man who had been following him grabbed at his broken hand with a groan.
"Son-of-a-bitch! My hand's broke!"
Reaching down, Arnie picked up the pistol from the pavement and rapped out, "You're lucky that's all!"
"Why'n hell you do that?"
"Why have you been following me... the last two days?" Arnie countered.
"You're crazy! No such thing!" the other groaned.
As the injured man was speaking, Arnie studied his face, his memory clicking. He was almost sure that he knew who the man was.
"Why'd you pull this gun on me... just now?"
"Well, hell... I thought you were a mugger... or something!"
Arnie's memory dredged up a name: Pratt... Ollie Pratt! He had been a welter-weight... one of the top ones. Let me see... maybe fifteen years ago.
"You knew who I was... Ollie!" Arnie grunted.
"You're off your rocker! My name's..."
"Ollie Pratt! Welter-weight... out of Des Moines... right at the top of the weight! You were even the contender for the title... one time... but it looks like the gamblers found your price! What was it... money... women... drugs?"
"Shut up! Damn you!"
"Now... you're packing a gun... and mixed up with a blackmailing thing! Christ! How low can a man get?" There was raw contempt in his voice for the former boxer.
Methodically, Arnie swung open the cylinder of Pratt's snub-nosed pistol and extracted the shells; one by one he tossed them toward the iron grating of a flood-control inlet near the curb. When he was finished unloading the gun, he hurled it into the weeds of a vacant lot opposite Ollie's parked car; then, reaching inside, he removed the ignition keys. They followed the pistol. In the waning light they would be hard to find.
Satisfied that the former boxer, turned gunman and blackmailer, wouldn't be able to follow him now, Arnie told Pratt grimly, "Give this message to your boss, Ollie. I don't scare easy!"
Walking purposefully to his own car, he got into it and left Ollie Pratt standing helplessly where he was, holding his broken hand and cursing through his groans of pain.
Cautiously, Jay Ballard checked all around the immediate area, before he climbed into his Mustang to leave Carla Reynolds' apartment building. There's a damned good chance they might be watching her! Everything seemed to be clear. He drove away.
He had considered the possibility of Carla's being in some danger, and thought, perhaps, she should be in protective custody... But, hell... she might not testify against Ramsey... and if it ever come out in court how I got my information from her... there'd be hell to pay... as far as I'm concerned! So, if she wants to play in the big time... she'll just have to take her chances!
Arnie would have to be told what he'd found out, so far, but the case was still a long ways from being settled. He'd have to have a lot more to go on, before he could take it to the police.
Remembering that the heavyweight fighter was going into L.A. to work out and probably wouldn't be home until late in the afternoon, Jay headed for the air-conditioned comfort of a bar to refresh himself and kill some time, before looking up Arnie's new address.
At about a quarter after six, Jay found the new apartment complex, walked up a flight to the number Arnie had given him, pushed the doorbell and waited, humming a tuneless popular song to himself.
The door opened. He recognized her, instantly. Joan! The other woman... in Carla's place! He stared at her hard.
"Joan...?"
"You!" She started to slam the door in his face.
"Wait!" Jay said, holding the door back. "Are you... Joan Pearson... Arnie Pearson's wife...?"
"What difference would that make?" Again, she struggled to close the door. He saw that she had been crying.
"Wait... Joan... let me explain...?" he implored. "I'm a friend of Arnie's... and I have to see him."
"He isn't here!" Joan snapped. "Goodbye!"
"Look... Joan, it was just an accident... or a horrible coincidence... that you came into Carla's apartment... and it just happened! You know that... don't you?"
"Oh, p-please... just go away...!" she sobbed, tears starting into her eyes, again.
"I've got a pretty good idea... of why you went there..." he began.
"That'd be none of your... b-business!"
"Carla's just like a lot of other prostitutes... you know..."
Joan stared at him, unbelieving. "P-Prostitute...?"
"Yes... didn't you know?"
Mutely, she shook her head in negative disbelief.
"Anyway... she's a man-hater... and gets her real kicks with other women!" he explained. "... And, I gather... you and she had a thing going... and... and I just happened to be there... as a... customer!"
"Oooh, no!" Joan moaned, covering her face with both hands and turning away to slump into an overstuffed chair near the door.
Jay came to stand beside her. Looking down at her pitiable figure, he said, "Arnie'll never have to know... about her... or me... if that's the way you want it. It'll be our secret!"
"Oh, God... I'd just die... if Arnie... ever... f-found out!"
"He won't ever known he promised."
"Really...?" Joan looked up at him gratefully through streaming eyes.
"Really! Just tell Arnie I called him... and have him call me at my office, in the morning... Okay? You don't even have to tell him I was here."
"All right..." She dabbed at her eyes. "What did you say... your name was...?"
"Jay... Jay Ballard..."
As he looked down at her, remembering how she had climaxed under him, just a few hours ago, in Carla's apartment, he felt a surging rekindling of sexual arousal... the beginning of a throbbing erection. He repressed it. Damn it! No! She's so uptight, now... she doesn't know which way's which!
With an exertion of will, Jay forced himself to walk to the door and out; then, he turned and said, "Get yourself all prettied up! Arnie'll probably be here pretty soon... and you'll want to look your best for him!"
"A-All right... Mr. Ballard..."
"Jay!" he said. "And just forget that it ever happened! It was... well... just one of those things!"
He closed the door behind him and left her there. Christ! This changes everything... especially, the fact that she and Carla were having... a lesbian affair! What happens when they try to show her pictures of Arnie's little dalliance with Carla...? Hell! There's no ball game... and they start playing real rough... with Arnie!
Chapter Six
Jay drove rapidly along the freeways toward Santa Monica and home. It would be too late for dinner at home, so he stopped for a quick bite along the way. He hadn't spent much time at home the last few days, but tonight, he was determined to spend the whole evening -- and night, too -- with Betty. Maybe, we can start working things out, now... and right after I finish up this thing for Arnie... we'll take that vacation... together!
Betty's little, foreign car wasn't in the garage, when he parked. His natural thought was that she was out shopping, or visiting with one of her women friends.
His wife wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Walking back to the bedroom wing, he looked into their bedroom and found it a shambles.
"What the hell...?" He looked around, dumbfounded, realizing that most of Betty's things were missing. Christ! She's left me! He slumped down on the edge of the bed... drained, an empty shell. His first thoughts were bitter... almost paranoid. What made her leave? What did I do... to make her leave? Sure! I'm not home regular... but I'm out busting my ass to earn a living... a damn good one, too! Is there another man...?
Finally, disconsolate, his mind in a chaotic whirl, he went out into the living room to get a good stiff drink. He mixed a triple... with a dash of water and a couple of ice cubes.
Then, he found Betty's note, by the telephone. He picked it up and fortified himself with a gulp of his drink, before he read:
Jay,
I'm leaving! You don't seem to need me... or want me. I found out where, today! How many other days... and nights have you spent with women... like that girl named Carla? I've got to think; that's why I'm leaving. Right now, all I can think about is how badly you've hurt me, and I need time to decide whether or not we should try, again... or get a divorce.
Betty.
Divorce!? God damn! She's really... thinking about a divorce... and she doesn't even know why I went to see Carla Reynolds...! But, how in hell did she find out where I was?
His own scribbled note was lying under Betty's note. He picked it up, read it and figured his wife must have called Carla's number. There's no telling what that little bitch might have told her! Looking at the scrap of paper, he remembered that he had put it in his shirt pocket... And, she found it... and made a federal case out of it, practically... or anyway... she's working on a divorce case... ours!
... And, there was no way of knowing where she might have gone... no way of getting in touch with her... to explain... try to make her understand... that Carla meant nothing more than a source of information... a part of his job.
Jay was sure that he loved his wife. Now... I've lost her! Then, he proceeded to sit there... slugging down one drink after the other, until alcoholic oblivion overcame him.
The insistent ringing of the telephone awakened him finally at ten o'clock the following morning. He struggled to the desk and picked up the handset.
"Yeah...?" he said thickly.
"Mr. Ballard... this is Karen. Mr. Pearson has been calling you. He insisted that you told him to call..."
"What...? Oh, yeah... I did..." he mumbled. "Tell the operator... to put him through to my home phone... Okay...?"
"All right, Mr. Ballard," his secretary said.
"Jay! Just call me Jay... Karen! By the way what time is it?"
"It's ten-oh-five... Jay," Miss Forrester said sweetly.
"Thanks... and I'll wait here for Arnie Pearson's call!"
He was fully awake ten minutes later, when Arnie called again.
"Joan told me you wanted to talk to me, Jay..."
"I do! Now, listen carefully! I know it's Ramsey... for sure! He's got two bird dogs out! One's a guy by the name of Jack Stearns. The other's named Pratt!"
"Yeah, I know Ollie Pratt. He used to be a fighter a few years back," Arnie said. "He was following me the last two days... and last night I put him out of commission!"
"What happened?" Ballard inquired.
Quickly, Arnie filled him in, with a few laconic details.
Jay added his own experience. "... And, Stearns tried to run me down with his car!"
"They're wanting to play rough, now... eh?"
"Yes! Now, there's a new development... I can't tell you about... but it makes me believe that the next step... is to get you... either to cripple you... make sure you won't be fighting... or... try to kill you!"
"They wouldn't go... that far?!"
"Don't bet on it!" Jay snapped. "They haven't located your new apartment, yet... and you're too big a target... when they do... so I want you to drop out of sight. Pack a minimum of things and meet me at my office in forty-five minutes!"
"You serious?" Arnie questioned. "What about my wife?"
"Don't tell her where you're going! The less she knows the better... and she'll be safe where she is... because now, it's you they're after! If you're in a hospital... or a morgue, you'll be no threat to Ramsey... and his plan to clean up on the next championship fight!"
"Where'll I be going?"
"To a little cabin I've got... up in the mountains!"
Betty Ballard didn't really like to drink, but she had just poured the third martini for herself, determined to get drunk... falling down drunk, for the first time in her life. Tomorrow... after she sobered up, she'd start thinking about what she would do... try to make a decision as to what she would do... go back to Jay and try, again... or file for divorce. Right then, divorce was the obvious solution... Except... that I think I do love him! If only... I hadn't been so snoopy and found out about th-that cheap little whore... h-he was with!
Letting himself in with the key that Jay had given him, Arnie Pearson carried in his single, light suitcase, set it down, locked the door and turned around to see a blonde vision of loveliness struggling to her feet from the divan where she had been sitting.
"Who are you...?" she snapped. "... And where'd you get a key... to get in here?"
Arnie was surprised. Jay had told him the place would be empty. "I'm sorry... I thought the place was vacant..." Arnie began.
"Well... it isn't... as you can see! I'm here!" Betty told him. "So... you can leave, now!"
"Let me explain... I'm Arnie Pearson... and Jay Ballard, who owns this place sent me up here to stay... for a while!"
"... And, I'm Betty Ballard, Jay's wife... and I say you can't stay here!" She swayed toward him unsteadily. "So, get out!"
Arnie knew then that she had been drinking. Curious, he asked, "Does Jay know you're here?"
"No! I've left him!" She sat back down, as tears welled into her deep blue eyes.
For a moment, the big boxer stood there, undecided, not knowing what to say... or do.
"I-If there's... anything I can do...?" he fumbled.
"There's nothing... a-anybody can do!" she sobbed.
"If... I knew why... maybe I could talk to him..." Arnie offered.
"You'd never understand!"
"Why don't you try me... Mrs. Ballard..." he soothed. "Sometimes talking about things... makes them easier..."
"I'm too miserable... about it all!" she sniffled.
"I'll listen... if you want to talk, Betty..."
... And suddenly, Betty felt as though she wanted to tell this big stranger her troubles. He seemed to be so concerned... and he was a friend of Jay's... And, maybe he could help... by talking to Jay... and letting him know how I-I feel...
"Okay... I'll have a drink with you..." he agreed. "Whiskey."
She arose uncertainly and made her way to the portable bar, where she made a bourbon and water for him; then, turning she brought it back across the room. Arnie saw her sway and lose her balance. Instantly, he was there to catch her. He took the drink from her, and she was in the circle of his arms, leaning against his broad, heavily muscled chest.
"Oh, I'm... s-so woozy..."
He helped her to the couch, and he couldn't help noticing the luscious curves of her body. He tingled where she had leaned against him, and he felt that sudden surge of pounding blood into his loins, erecting his penis to vibrantly throbbing life. Damn! She's some woman! I could really go for her... but Christ... she's Jay's wife!
... Then, she was talking, telling him of her suspicions that Jay had been unfaithful to her... that she knew she wasn't the best kind of wife... in bed... But, I was going to try to learn some of those things... he wanted me to do... if they'd make him happier... and keep him from... going t-to... other women!
"Such as...?" he asked.
"Oh... you know... different positions... and things with your m-mouth..."
"I see..."
"... But, now... I'll never get the chance!"
She dissolved into tears again, and she leaned against him for comfort. His arms went around her, and he stroked her soft, honey-gold hair gently, lightly; then, he caressed and stroked the satin-smooth skin of her shoulder, her upper arm, while below, his balls began to ache as his scrotum crawled and pulled them up tight into his crotch. His pulsating cock jerked involuntarily. It'd be taking advantage of her... I guess. She's had several drinks... but she's so upset... and in need of affection... it wouldn't take much... to get her into the sack...! And... from what she's saying... Jay hasn't been fucking her... the last seven days! Christ... it'd be easy...
It felt so good to be enfolded in his strong arms... to be babied a little... to know he was listening... was interested in what she said, and she needed it... wanted his gentle, understanding warmth.
"I guess... what really bothers me... is that he was... w-with a... cheap little... wh-whore!"
"Brooding on it won't help! You'll just have to forget about it... even if it's true that a lot of those women... really know how to turn a man on," he told her. "They know all the tricks... licking and sucking... until he's hard as a rock..."
Arnie could feel the firmness of her mounding, warm breast, pressing against his chest, the nipple of it standing hard and erect where it poked into him through his shirt. She's getting hot! Hell... maybe I should try to fuck her... especially if she's starting to feel like it!
Despite her wrought up condition, her tears and the alcohol she had drunk, Betty held some images in her mind: Jay's warm, hugely throbbing cock... in her mouth... and in her imagination she was actually doing it; the other scene was a reversal. Her husband's long, moist tongue... was there, down between her legs, licking and sucking her there... and she was responding to it. Dimly, she wondered: Could I do it easier... if I had a few drinks first...?
She felt soothed, being there in Arnie's arms... and she didn't want to think about her troubles. If she could just get Jay back... she knew they'd be able to work things out, but right now... it was so nice to talk to Arnie... to feel so serene... so protected there, in the snug cabin...
Strangely, as she thought about making love to Jay, in those new ways, she began to feel a tingling excitement, deep in her belly, and down there between her thighs, she felt the viscous droplets of lubrication exuded from her vagina's mouth. It was moistening her panties, and she could feel herself getting all warm. It was unexpected... but not unwelcome. Heavens! Imagine... I'm getting all aroused... just from thinking about what Jay... and I... will d-do... to each other... when we're together, again! She began to move her thighs uncomfortably, opening and closing them almost imperceptibly, in a gathering rhythm of sexual arousal. Her nipples were getting hard and erect... and she knew she'd have to put a stop to those lewd feelings. After all, Arnie wasn't her husband. She wouldn't think of doing anything... with another man...! But, he was so male... so close, and too exciting!
Arnie felt the trembling excitement in her body, as he held her close, realizing that her sobbing misery was being replaced by a building sensuality.
With a little more boldness, now, he continued to caress her shoulder, letting his hand slip down gently along the length of her arm. There were no more tears, although her face was still buried in his chest; he sensed a quickening change in her breathing.
Then, as one treats a wild animal, taming it by careful handling, becoming more and more intimate with it, until its trust is strengthened to the point where it comes to cuddle in your arms, he brought his hand up, sliding it up along her back, teasing along the ridge of her spine, then down, again, and down, almost to the protruding curve of her buttocks.
Betty's breath was coming faster now. He felt it warm and humid against his chest, through the material of his shirt. Damn! Now's the time to move in on her!
Bringing his hand up to her shoulder again, he casually allowed it to slide down to press in against the swelling mound of her breast, kneading and massaging the resiliently smooth flesh through her dress and bra. She gasped and her body stiffened convulsively, but she said nothing... made no move to pull away from him.
Husky-voiced, Arnie whispered in her ear, "Of course... there's another thing... You could bring Jay up short... by letting him know... he's working a two-way street! It's the old story... of the goose and the gander..."
His thumb kept brushing across the hardened bud of her nipple, tauntingly, his own heart pounding with excitement as he wondered whether or not she would buy that story. Below, the achingly hardened shaft of his cock leaped, jerkingly, in a bid to escape from his imprisoning shorts and trousers.
It felt so good to have his hand on her breast... but there was something wrong. He was suggesting that she... do the same thing Jay had done... She'd have to stop him... before things got out of hand. Something could happen...
"You could get even... with him. Turnabout's only fair... isn't it...?" Arnie breathed into her ear.
Turnabout? What's good for the gander is good... for the goose...? Two-way street...? Get even... with Jay...? She had been hurt... badly! He was with... a little two-bit whore!
Could she make him suffer, too, the same way she had suffered? Did she dare take another man... as a lover, just to hurt him... show him that all was fair? Oh, God... I don't know!
Deftly, Arnie unbuttoned the top button of her dress, and his hand wormed its way inside, the warm palm of his hand trailing a tingling path along the smooth skin of her chest, down into the deep vee of her bra to the velvety, soft pliancy of a naked breast. Down below, her hips squirmed, as slashingly powerful sex sensations charged her loins... and she knew! I'll dare to do it...! And, it'll teach Jay... a lesson!
Her lips lifted expectantly, and Arnie captured them moistly, his tongue snaking into her mouth to savor the sweetness of her, while she turned her body to him, clinging close, while her hand went up to press against the back of his head, welding their mouths together with the heat of their passion. Inside her bra, he rolled the distended cone of a hardened nipple to excite it to even greater erection. Now, her tongue parried his, until finally, it burst through into his mouth, and tiny mewling sounds issued from deep in her throat.
Jubilant triumph was Arnie's. She was all his... and he was going to fuck Jay Ballard's hot little wife... like she'd never been fucked before!
Confidently now, he took his hand away from her breasts and let it glide unerringly to her bare thigh, sliding up along it's curvaceous taper, along the softly smooth inner-side, upward to the pulsating warmth of her nylon-covered pussy, where he pushed a finger into the moist furrow and rubbed gently, up and down, through the thin material of her panties.
Undulating up against his rummaging hand, her hips ground counteringly, and he pushed the leg-band of her wispy panties aside, parting the softly resilient pubic down to slip his finger into the moist, trembling passage of Betty's suddenly warmly quivering little cuntal lips.
He teased, caressingly, at the hardened bud of her clitoris, reveling in the feel of her soft, elastic-like pussy mouth and feeling the vibrant arousal in her lusciously voluptuous body.
Betty recoiled violently at the searing contact of his hand against the nakedness of her lust-incited cunt. She groaned, as she realized that this was for real... that he was really going to... go ahead and... do it... to her. Oh, God, no! It's wrong! It's still adultery... and I really do love my h-husband! I'll have to make him stop it... n-now!
... But, it was too late! She couldn't stop it... stop him... or herself. She was already too far gone! There was no way she could pull herself away from him, now. His hand on her cunt was driving her wild, and his tongue in her mouth was so sexy. His hand on her body was like little electric shocks. God! She wanted. She needed... And dimly through the dizzying fumes of the alcohol in her brain, she knew it was too late...
Arnie knew that she was fighting against herself. She's hot to trot... but she's still got that Puritan hang-up... that won't let go! He whispered in her ear, "Don't fight it, Baby! It's time you broke loose... and started enjoying yourself... too!"
It seemed to be so logical... so right, to her, in her confused state of mind. "Yes... that's right...! And, I'll make him pay... f-for what he's done!"
Arnie needed no more encouragement. It was smooth sailing from there on in, and he'd make the most of it. His middle finger still teased at her naked clitoris, and he recaptured her mouth to lash his tongue in and out of her warmly moist oral cavern suggestively; then, hovering over her partially reclining body, he pushed her dress up, bunching it at the waist, and looking down at her lewdly, he said, "I'm going to strip you naked, now!"
For answer, she mutely, eloquently, lifted her hips up as he reached up to slide her filmy, nylon panties down over the lovely white taper of her trembling thighs, revealing the petal-like softness of her golden, hair-lined furrow to his lewdly salacious gaze. What a gorgeous little cunt!
Then, Betty was struggling with her dress. He helped her, unbuttoning it and pulling it up over her head, and tossing it aside. Her bra followed, and she was completely nude. Leaning back he drank in the loveliness of her body with a triumphant grin, while below, his pulsating cock lurched wildly against the confines of his clothing.
Off to the side, in front of the fireplace, he had noticed a large bearskin rug. Impulsively, he took her by the hands, raising her to her feet, and led her, unresistingly to the rug, where she lay down on it, dragging him down with her.
Gathering spasmodic jolts of sensual pleasure rippled through her as Arnie's warmly caressing hands closed over her sensitive, swelling breasts, and she heard his gasp of delight at their mounding firmness and satin-like, smooth pliancy.
Then, his mouth followed to engulf one of her hard, distended, berry-like paps, while one of his hands still fondled its twin, his fingers rolling the spiked-out bud, maddeningly. Oh, that feels sooooo good! She groaned, while beneath her, her hips began a grindingly undulant rhythm. Her eyes closed, as she reveled in the sensuous feel of his hands and mouth.
For a moment or two, his hands and mouth left her, and she felt disappointment, but she was dimly aware of the rustle of clothing. He's undressing... making himself naked, too! She clenched her eyelids tighter. I don't want to look!
"You might as well open your eyes... and look at me... Betty... because I'm going to fuck you with it!"
Betty Ballard's eyes fluttered open, slowly; Arnie was kneeling there, his big, heavily-muscled body solidly substantial. Her eyes flicked over his body appreciatively, then her gaze zeroed in on the bulky length of his throbbingly hardened penis spearing out from his powerful loins. With an involuntary gasp, she tried to imagine that massively bloated thing burrowing deep into the soft, fleshy folds of her vagina. My God... I-It'd be impossible... without tearing me apart! A shiver of fear raced through her.
She watched, mesmerized, as he gripped the swollen shaft of his cock and asked lewdly, "Do you think this'll do something for you?"
"Oh, God... I-I couldn't take... all of that... up inside of me!" she managed.
"Don't worry... Baby... when you're ready to take it... you'll take all of it... with no trouble!"
Arnie stretched out beside her, and his mouth dipped down, again, to a quivering, white breast. She mewled softly as he took one, then the other of her nipples into the moist warmth of his mouth to lick and suck, his teeth nibbling them gently... until she wanted to scream with the ecstasy of the exquisite sensations surging through her body.
His head began to move lower, trailing moist kisses down between her passion-swollen breasts, down her soft, flat belly to her navel, where he paused to tease the tiny depression; then... on downward to her abdomen... until she felt the humid warmth of his breath on the soft, curling, golden fleece of her pubic hair. Suddenly, she realized, with a start, what he was going to do... what his true goal was!
... And, she was revulsed. I-It's sickening! She was remembering Jay's lewd suggestions... and the many times she had thwarted his attempts to do that!
Frantically, she reached down to grasp the huge boxer's head, in an effort to keep him from doing it. "N-No! Please? Don't d-do... that...!"
Arnie, kneeling between her soft, widespread thighs, now, would not be dissuaded.
"You want to learn all about it... don't you, Baby... because that's how you're going to get Jay back... and keep him coming back!"
Again, his words seemed so right. Yes! That's what I-I... want! She trembled with a wanton desire she had never known. Somehow, then, the degradation, the humiliation, shame, fear, guilt... and disgust didn't seem to matter. The intense, flaming desire to know... to experience... to enjoy leaped into the saddle to lead her wild charge into the unknown, as she felt herself aroused insanely... to a spiraling degree she had never known.
"Yes! Yessss! Arnie! D-Do it t-to me! Use your m-mouth... and tongue... and lick me! Suck me... there! Everything!"
Moaning his desire, as she surrendered everything to him, he wedged his head down between her quivering thighs, his lips making electric contact with the moist softness of her vagina's mouth, and his long, agile and voracious tongue darted out to plunge sinuously deep into her cuntal passage. His strong hands pressed hard against the soft, inner sides of her lovely, tapering thighs to spread them even wider apart.
"OOOooooh!" Betty moaned, as her hips ground up against his face, her body spasming with lewd sensuality. His tongue lashed into her like a substitute cock. Claw-like her hands reached out to his head, grasping his hair, to pull him into closer contact with her lust-incited loins. Oh, that feels so gooooood!
Arnie's hands slid up over her belly to the rounded firmness of her tits again, cupping and squeezing them with brutal force, while below, he withdrew his tongue from her vaginal orifice and pressured up through her pink cunt-flesh to locate the erectile bud of her pulsating clitoris.
She whined agonizingly as he captured the tiny, throbbing phallus between his teeth, holding it lightly, while the tip of his tongue teased it in maddening little circles.
... And, now, her head began to flail from side to side, in wanton abandon, her golden tresses becoming totally disarrayed, as he moved downward, again, to the moistly searing opening of her hotly clasping vaginal tunnel and began to plunge his stiffened tongue in and out of her in regular tempo. He listened to her with lewd satisfaction, as mewling whimpers cascaded unintelligibly from her agonized lips.
Never letting up for a moment, he swirled and flicked his tongue around the velvety insides of her cuntal passage, tantalizingly, then slipped his hands under her thighs, lifting them up until they were draped over his shoulders, presenting the whole of her naked loins to him, as he cupped the resilient, white softness of a full-rounded buttock in either hand, his fingers digging in, cruelly, until her flesh ridged through his fingers.
Unceasingly, now, moans of ecstatic passion poured from Betty's mouth, filling the living room of the cabin with sounds of animal pleasure. Suddenly, she felt it. Oh, God... I-I feel... like I could cum! His tongue... will make me cum!
... Then, it stopped.
Arnie stopped and raised his head, and she looked down to see his quick grin, his chin glisteningly moist from the viscous secretions of her pulsating loins.
"Don't stop! Oh, please... don't stop... yet!" she pleaded.
"Then, you liked it?"
"Oh, I was almost... ready..."
"I know, Baby Doll... you're ready to fuck... now!"
He came down on top of Jay's wife, wedging his hips down between her quivering, wide-splayed thighs, his hotly pulsing cock, fully hardened, poised hugely at the mouth of her expectantly palpitant cunt. He smiled down at her lewdly, glancing down to see that his massively lust-filled cock was nudging into the soft-fleshed portal of her moistly coral-pink vagina... and lunged forward to send his cock lancing hard and deep into her with one smoothly forceful plunge.
Betty screamed.
Frantically, she squirmed around beneath him, screwing her naked loins down and back, in an attempt to escape his skewering entry. She was filled with hotly throbbing cock, and it felt as though he had split her asunder. God! I'm torn... to little pieces!
Arnie's cock was buried to the hilt in the moist warmth of her wide-stretched cuntal passage, his pubic bone pressed tightly against her nakedly throbbing clitoris, and she could feel every ridge of the giant prick he had sunk deeply into her quaking, soft, white belly.
He lay still on top of her for a moment, before he flexed the hardened shaft of his cock deep in her cuntal passage, grinding it into her another fraction of an inch at the same time.
"UUUUuuuuuuuuhhhh!" she grunted, her face grimacing with the pain of it.
"Do you like it?" he asked, ginning down at her with lewd delight.
"I-It's... s-so big! It's tearing m-me... apart!" she groaned.
"Now... you can beg for it! Beg me to fuck you!" he ordered.
"B-Beg? Why...?" She was confused. "I-I can't... d-do that!"
"Do you want to learn to please Jay...?" he countered. "If you do... learn to ask for it!"
"It's in me... already! Go ahead... and... d-do it to me!"
"Not like that! Use the right words!" Arnie grunted.
Again, he throbbed his cock expandingly deep inside her sensitive cuntal sheath, and his fingers dug into her shoulders cruelly.
"OOOooohhh!" she sobbed. "Yesssss! I-I want you... t-to f-fuck me!" There! I said it. I said that horrible word! She spat it out with revulsion that she had been forced to say it, and suddenly she realized: I-I'm... an adulteress! I-I'm actually lying under another... m-man with my legs spread wide... and being fucked by him!
With slow, deliberate strokes, Arnie began to fuck in and out of her tight, narrow cuntal sheath, feeling it cling tightly to the hardened shaft of his cock, each smooth, short stroke stretching her resilient flesh a little more, until he was fucking into her deeply, and he heard her groan of final surrender, as helplessly she began to undulate and grind her naked buttocks beneath him.
A desire she had never known surged through her body, as lascivious flames of passion seared her... and she found no further reason to fight it. Now, her whole body writhed and squirmed with wanton abandon under him, as Arnie's hardened cock began to slam in and out of her with animal-like energy, plunging deep into the quivering, moist warmth of her delighted cunt, as from deep in her chest came low, guttural hummings of passionate acceptance. Tiny droplets of sensual perspiration broke out on her swelling breasts, and her face was contorted with the insane excitement of her full arousal.
Now, Arnie slid his hands up under her hollowing buttocks, his fingers digging into the soft, smooth orbs, and her satiny flesh oozed through his fingers, as he pulled her in hard against his pounding loins. Her legs were spread wide on either side of his hard, impaling prick, quivering in uncontrolled ecstasy as she scissored them around his waist. Then, instinctively, she began to pull her thighs back against her chest, mashing the softly rounded orbs of her breasts, and the whole of her moistly palpitant cunt flowered open to him in lewd invitation to take more and yet more of his plunging cock into her... to ever greater depths. Yes! She was being fucked... by a strange man... against her will... but now she wanted to give him back... as much as she was being given!
Suddenly, now, he began to lengthen his cunt-stretching thrusts into her, pulling his gross, massively hardened cock almost completely out of her wildly clasping vaginal sheath on the upstroke, then driving it deeply into her upturned loins on the down-stroke, feeling the satisfying smack of his sperm-laden balls as they swung up into the defenseless crevice between her soft, full-orbed buttocks.
That's it! Arnie grinned at the thought of one more thing he could do to her. Hell! She might as well get the full treatment!
His hand drifted down over the smooth, tight skin of her wildly grinding ass-cheeks, and probing with his middle finger, found the tiny, puckered lips of her anal opening in the soft yielding crevice between them. They were warm and soft, and he could feel it working and flexing hotly against the tip of his finger. He heard her sharply in-drawn breath, as he pushed experimentally against the soft, rubbery flesh.
... Then, he pushed hard. His finger burst through the elastic opening into the warm spongy flesh of her rectum.
Arnie thrust, again, until his finger was all the way up inside, and he wormed it around, stretching the resilient softness, with merciless intent.
She screamed. "AAAAaaaaggghh!" Frantically, she tried to escape his skewering finger, screwing her hips around, gyratingly, but there was no let up as he fucked both finger and cock into her at the same time. Gradually, her whimpers of pain subsided to be replaced by even greater moans of delight than before, as her anus slowly adjusted to the unnatural presence there.
Jay Ballard's wife was hopelessly impaled on Arnie Pearson's driving cock in her searing vagina and his finger buried deep in her desperately squirming little anus, and she mewled and moaned out her pleasure under him.
Lewdly then, his other hand went down to where his enormous, rock-hard prick was pistoning smoothly in and out of her voraciously clasping cuntal passage. He fondled caressingly the soft, hair-lined lips of her cunt stretched so tight around his pounding cock, and he could feel their clinging softness clenching and contracting with each of his long, deep pile-driving plunges into her soft, white belly.
... Then, her thighs began to jerk spasmodically, her head flailed uncontrollably and her face was contorted with the intensity of her rapturous passion. She was almost ready to cum. He ripped his finger from her hotly clenching rectum and pressing his hands behind her knees, he pushed her thighs back until they lay flat beside her shoulders on the bearskin rug. The whole plane of her upturned genitals were opened wide to his jack-hammering plunges, as he thrust deep into the moist depths of her wildly clasping cuntal sheath.
Her face was a contorted mask of unbridled passion, as she began to chant up into his face, "Oh! OOoohh! OOOooohhh! Oh, God! Fuck me... hard!" Her moisture bedewed breasts, swelled and danced up against his chest, her erectile nipples spiking hard into him, as he strove mightily to drive hard and deep into her needful cunt.
... Then, she convulsed under him, her soaring climax coming to her, laden with exquisitely ecstatic sensations of passionate rapture.
With frenetic energy, Arnie slaved away above her, feeling the wildly clasping lips of her cunt milking greedily, voraciously, at his rampaging cock, until suddenly, he felt his own searing ejaculation begin. His hot, white sperm shot from the tiny slit in the top of his cockhead, jetting from the depths of his crazily jerking balls to splash far up into the deepest recesses of her hotly sucking vaginal passage.
Her legs splayed limply to the sides obscenely, and her heart trip-hammered in her chest, as her satiated body lapsed into subsiding waves of relaxing euphoria. Then, as her rational mind began to function, again, she remembered. God! I've done it! I've been sucked... and f-fucked... by another man... and that's adultery... or does that make me just another cheap... little... wh-whore... like Carla... the one my husband was with?
She could still feel Arnie's spewing penis jerking its last up inside of her, filling her belly almost to the bursting, as the last of his load of heated male sperm was ejaculated from the slitted head of his cock.
Groaning his satisfaction, Arnie collapsed on top of her, "Damn! That was something! Did you like it, Baby?"
She was honest with him... with herself. "Yes... yes... I liked it... but now, you'll have to go!"
"I can't leave here!" he told her. "Jay sent me up here... and told me to stay here... until things are settled!"
"What things...?"
"I can't tell you that... except that there are some people looking for me..."
"The... p-police...?"
"No... I'm not a criminal! Your husband is trying to help me!"
"I see... and it's your case he's been working on the last several days?" she queried.
"Yes... I'm afraid so..."
"Well..." she said resignedly, "I suppose you'll have to stay! Let me up now... please?"
Arnie tried to recapture her lips, trying to prolong the mood, but she twisted her head aside, saying, "No! Don't! I've got to think... about what I've already done! I-I don't know whether... I can... l-live... with myself!"
"You've done both yourself... and Jay a favor, is what I think!" he told her, rolling to his side from on top of her.
Chapter Seven
To Joan Pearson, the telephone call was innocent enough, but to Carla Reynolds, who made it, it was a matter of life or death... her own.
"Joan...? This is Carla... Carla Reynolds... I just had to talk to you..."
"Well, I don't want to talk to you!"
"Please... don't hang up on me... I want to explain..." she pleaded desperately.
"What's to explain...?"
"I thought that man... Jay would be gone... before you arrived... and we'd just have a lovely... woman-woman thing, again..."
"So...?" Joan was cynical, now.
"Your husband... isn't around there is he...?"
"No... he's gone!"
"Just for the day... or will he be gone for a few days?"
"Well..." Joan hesitated. "He'll be gone for several days... I think..."
"Oh, where did he go...?"
"What's this all got to with anything...?"
"Well... if you'd feel better about things... I thought maybe you'd want to invite me... to your house... especially if your husband's going to be gone..." Then she added, as an after thought, "Where'd you say he was...?"
"I didn't... but he said something about going to the mountains... Idyllwild... I think... for some training workouts," Joan told her, revealing only what Arnie had told her.
"Oh, good... then he's not likely to pop in... and spoil things for us..." Carla was suggestive.
Joan had made up her mind, even before Carla's call, and she had rehearsed what she would say to the woman who had seduced her.
"Carla! You're wasting your time! I've thought it all over... and I-I've decided that... I don't really want the kind of thing you... you forced on me. I love my husband... and I'll do everything I can to keep him loving me!"
"Then... you won't...?"
"That's right!" Joan cut in. "I don't want... that kind of life... so please don't try to call me... or see me... again!"
"J-Joan... please...?"
"My mind's made up! I meant what I said!" Joan snapped and slammed down the receiver.
"That was a good performance, Carla!" Warren Ramsey said. "And, I'll keep my part of the bargain! I'll send you to my friend Wong Ho... in Hong Kong... instead of to the bottom of the Catalina Channel. Wong told me he could use a beautiful white woman... in one of his more... exclusive houses..."
Carla tried to smile through cracked lips, and tears welled from blackened, swollen eyes. He's not going to kill me! "Oh, Warren... thank you! Thank you!" she blubbered.
Betty Ballard had wanted to get into her car and leave the cabin to Arnie, but he had refused to let her leave, pointing out that she was in no condition to drive safely.
In the end, she had agreed to stay. "But, you'll have to promise... to stay your distance... unless I change my mind..." she had told him.
There was very little to eat in the cabin, and as dinner time neared, Arnie volunteered to go down to the village to buy whatever was necessary. He had decided to walk, knowing that it would help him to stay in condition.
Betty was fussing around in the kitchen getting ready to prepare their evening meal. She had had one more drink with Arnie, as they had talked afterward... and she was still feeling lightheaded.
Hearing a step in the living room, she glanced through the door, expecting to see Arnie loaded down with grocery sacks... but it was not Arnie!
"Who...?" she started to say, when she heard the kitchen door open. Glancing behind her, she froze in terror, as she saw another man coming through that door toward her.
Her scream was muffled by a rough hand clamped over her mouth, as she was pinioned by the second man.
"Take her into the bedroom! Tie her up!" someone ordered.
She felt herself lifted, carried, then she was on the big, double bed, a gag stuffed in her mouth, while hard-handed men tied her to the bed. God! Who are they? Wh-What do they... w-want...?
"Say! She's quite a woman!" One of the men grinned, ogling her, then reached out to feel appreciatively of her breasts, free and unfettered under her dressing robe. She looked up, pleadingly, into hard eyes, seeing a blonde man, with a scar on his forehead. Behind the hardness of those merciless eyes, she saw lust... and she knew. H-He wants me!
"Pearson's not here!" the leader snapped.
She swiveled her eyes around to see that he was a short, square man, with very white hair. N-No... I'm wrong! They're looking for Arnie! Then, she remembered. He had told her some people were trying to find him... And, they have!
"How about having a little fun with his wife... while we're waiting for him to show?" the third man in the bedroom suggested.
They think I-I'm Arnie's wife...!
The white-haired man looked down at her, then reached down to pull her dressing robe open, revealing her nakedness to all three pair of lewdly staring eyes. "Hell... why not?" he grunted. "Arnie's not going to be any use to her... or anybody else... when we're through with him!"
Through fear-widened eyes she looked up at them and wig-wagged her head a violent NO. She tried to scream it, but the gag in her mouth muffled the sound. Rape! Rape! RAPE! The word ricocheted screamingly around inside her skull. A-All three of them...? Are all three of them... going into RAPE m-me...? Oh, my G-God... Then, another equally startlingly ironic thought:... And, they think I-I'm Arnie's wife! They're going t-to rape me... and I'm the wrong woman!
The white-haired man leaned over her, and she saw that he was not really old. "You can object all you want to... Mrs. Pearson... but you're going to get fucked... by all three of us... understand?"
Again, she flailed her head negatively.
Going on, he told her, "You can make it as easy... or as hard as you want! If you cooperate... you won't get hurt... but if you fight us... I can't guarantee anything!" Turning to the scar-faced man he said, "Untie her legs, Jack... for starters!"
"Okay... Warren... but what if Pearson comes back while we're throwing a fuck into his wife...?" Jack queried.
"Just keep your guns handy... after all, they're three of us, with guns! He wouldn't stand a chance!" Warren answered.
The third man added, "... But, he's pretty tough! I know!"
"A .45 slug'll stop him, though!" Jack sneered, reaching out to untie the knotted ropes at her ankles.
The third man, whose name she hadn't heard yet, went around to the other side of the bed, sat down on it and reached out with his left hand, pulling her robe aside to expose her naked loins.
"Damn! She's really a hot looking little piece!" he leered. "It's going to be fun fucking you, Doll... and I'd like to see Arnie's face when he finds out I did!"
"Is that all you want... revenge?" Warren asked.
"Yeah... and I'll get it, too!"
His hand was on her inner thigh now, caressing her and moving upward. Looking down, Betty saw then that his right hand was encased in a cast. The man's face was scarred, his nose had been broken, giving him an evil look. She was revulsed by his appearance, and tried to clench her thighs tightly together. He snickered at her. "You can't keep them together like that for long!"
Then, as she looked beyond the seated man, she saw Jack standing at the foot of the bed. He had taken off all of his clothes, and: as she watched, his shorts came off. Standing out rigidly from his body, his massively hard erection jerked throbbingly in his hand that gripped the shaft of it lightly.
"Warren..." he was saying. "It'll be a hell of a lot more fun... if we untie her completely... and take the gag off... what do you say...?"
"Okay!" he agreed, coming to the bed to sit down beside her.
Shoving his pistol into her face, he growled, "You see this...? Well... if I untie you... and take that gag out of your mouth... you'll do exactly what we want you to do... and no talking or screeching... understand?"
Betty stared at the gun and knew that he meant business. She moved her head up and down in understanding.
To cinch it down for her, he went on, "... Because... otherwise, Baby... I'll shove this cannon up your sweet, little cunt... and blow your insides out!"
The threat was delivered with a deadliness she couldn't believe. My God... I-I'm sure he's capable of doing it too! The horrible vision of a death like that passed in gory detail before her eyes... and she knew there was nothing she could do but accept whatever they did to her... if she expected to live!
Jack released her hands, while Warren removed the gag from her mouth.
"You understand... don't you?"
With a wary look at the pistol in his hand, she murmured, "Y-Yes... But I-I'm..."
"That's all! No more talking!" he snapped, silencing her, as she wanted to tell them that they had made a horrible mistake... that she wasn't Arnie's wife!
Now, Warren was standing beside the bed taking off his clothing, while Jack stretched out, naked, on the bed beside her, his warm body snuggling into close contact, the hardened shaft of his throbbing cock pressing up tight against the smooth flesh of her thigh. Then his hands swarmed over the luscious contours of her body, kneading and massaging, cupping and tweaking, and his mouth captured hers, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth, sinuously, to taste and savor.
Betty was sure it wouldn't happen! She was being forced... raped... threatened with death... if she didn't cooperate, but as the naked man beside her mauled the sensitive mounds of her smoothly pliant breasts, teasing the nipples into coning erection, while at the same time, his tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, she found herself responding to him. God! She didn't want that! They could force her... but she didn't have to like it!
... Now, warm hands worked their way up her thighs, toward the nakedness of her loins, and unconsciously she clamped her thighs together.
"Open your legs!" Warren ordered.
Reluctantly, fear clutching at her insides, she slowly allowed her thighs to relax. She heard him gasp, as he forced her legs to splay wide, and then he was crawling in between the white, tapering columns. Try as she might she could not control the trembling of her legs.
"God damn! That's the sweetest little cunt I've seen... in a long time!"
Then, she felt his blunt finger tracing the length of her now tinglingly vibrant cuntal furrow, rubbing against the short length of her sensitively hardened clitoral bud, causing her to grind her hips, gyratingly, in an effort to escape the tantalizing sensations it generated in her.
She felt it clearly, as his finger drifted on down to worm its way into the moist warmth of her vaginal opening, where he thrust it in and out of her then swirled it around and around just inside the opening. No matter how she tried to suppress it, her desire was being rekindled by these lewd rapists... and she couldn't help it. Arcing, electric sensations grounded themselves in her loins and flashed along her nerve endings, ecstatically, until she found that her hips were undulating up involuntarily to meet his obscenely stimulating finger.
Lying down beside her, the third man, whose name had still not been mentioned, and who was hampered in undressing, no doubt, by the cast on his right hand, pressed his hard-muscled body in close to her. She could feel the enormously hard shaft of his erectile penis against the satin-smooth skin of her thigh, matching Jack's on the opposite side.
Down between her legs, she felt Warren pull his moistened finger from her rapidly heating vaginal tunnel; then, using both hands, he raised her knees, flexing them, his warm palms sliding caressingly down the inner velvet-smooth flesh of her thighs, forcing them wider apart, until his hands framed the golden-downed lips of her cringingly expectant slit. His thumbs, on either side, slowly spread her coral-tinged petals, flowering her open to him, and she could feel the cooling air as it washed over the moist warmth of her most secret flesh. She knew what was coming next, and she had a feverish impulse to cry out... stop him; at the same time, a grisly image of what he threatened bounced around inside her skull. Life was too dear! Her thighs relaxed, and she allowed her hips to rise up to meet his long, moistly taunting tongue. It teased at her coral-lined opening for a long moment, before he plunged the wetly flicking tip deep up into her searing, liquid depths. Involuntarily she moaned, as slashing erotic sensations surged uncontrollably through her whole body.
Now, the third man, stretched out on the opposite side from Jack, was nibbling and sucking at a distended nipple, while his hand kneaded the softly resilient flesh of the opposite breast.
Sensation after sensation crowded in on her, and she found herself sucking hungrily at Jack's tongue, writhing her torso up to the third man's nibbling, sucking mouth, jiggling her breasts prettily for his benefit. Below, her loins gyrated, grindingly up into Warren's face, as his tongue flicked in and out of her now lust-filled cunt.
Shifting upward, then, Warren's lips grazed their way through her sensation-seared vaginal furrow to find the sensitively erect bud of her clitoris, hidden in its fold of flesh, the sparse golden curls of her pubic hair parting as his tongue pressured tantalizingly into it.
Both men, lying on either side of her, pressing their naked bodies against her, felt the deep shock of it in her. She gasped as the heat lightning his tongue generated was grounded deep in her quivering belly, the arcing flash of it causing her to writhe her buttocks down and away from his lashing tongue, but in the very next instant, uncontrollably, her loins undulated up to him, wanting more of his lewdly licking tongue.
"Oh... OOoohh...!" she moaned up into Jack's mouth.
Unwanted, exquisite sensations seemed to multiply themselves in her body, and she could do nothing to stop them. She liked Jack's kiss, his darting tongue alive in her mouth, the warmth of his caressing hand that roamed over her body, and on her other side, the man with the injured hand, sucked at her breasts, as his good hand, cupped and kneaded, fondling the firm roundness of its satiny smooth flesh. She liked that, too... liked the feeling of her hardened nipples being nibbled on and spiking out into his warm palm.
And, then, Warren, below, took the throbbingly erect bud of her clitoris between his teeth, holding it imprisoned, while his tongue danced a whirling dervish, circling the tiny, throbbingly vibrant head in rapid tempo.
"Oh, my Goddddd!" she breathed up into Jack's mouth.
The intensity of the sensations she experienced was almost more than she could bear.
Groping with both hands, she found Warren's head, entangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his face in tight to her sensation-filled loins.
For several moments, she spiraled upward in ever-increasing arousal, conscious of everything that each of the three men were doing.
... Then, suddenly, Warren pulled away from her, and she felt instant disappointment.
"Okay, Baby... that's enough of that! It's time you were being fucked!" Warren Ramsey grunted.
Instinctively, the two men on either side of her also pulled away to make room for their leader, who now knelt between her moistly wide-spread thighs. She looked down, fearfully, to see that he gripped the hugely pulsing shaft of his cock. Hypnotized, she watched, as he slowly retracted the heavy foreskin to reveal the shiny, red-satin smoothness of his cock head. There was a tiny droplet of viscous moisture oozing from the thin little slit at its tip.
Leering into her face lewdly, he asked, "You ready... for some fucking?"
Dismally, Betty answered, "You haven't given me a... ch-choice... really!"
"You're damned right!" the white-haired Ramsey grated.
The third man leaned up, and addressing his boss said, "Warren... why don't we give her the full treatment... right now...?"
"What do you mean... Ollie...?"
"Hell... get her up on her knees... so she can handle more than one at a time!"
Ramsey was agreeable. "Okay... turn her over!"
Betty felt herself being turned over to her stomach, her hips hauled up until she was on her knees and elbows, her softly rounded, full-orbed buttocks upturned nakedly in the air behind her.
Coming in behind her, Warren used both hands to spread her tremblingly clenching ass-cheeks wide, as he guided his granite-hard rod of throbbing male flesh straight into her softly pulsing cuntal opening. She gasped at the monstrous size of it. She was filled as never before with the length and girth of Ramsey's plundering prick.
"AAaaaaggh! It's... t-too big!" she screamed.
"Shut up, Bitch! I told you no screaming!" he grunted as he worked the aching shaft of his cock around inside her, stretching the resilient flesh of her clasping vaginal passage. Then, with smooth, short strokes, he began to fuck in and out of her, and the temporary pain seemed to vanish, leaving only insanely ecstatic sensations of sexual pleasure. With wild abandon, she began to thrust back at him, counterpointing his potent, pistoning cock.
Jack Stearns was kneeling in front of her, sitting back on his heels, his long pulsing cock standing out rampantly from his hairy loins, and as Warren, slamming into her from behind, rocked her forward, her lips brushed against the silky softness of its blood-engorged head.
"Here, Mrs. Pearson... you can suck my cock!" the one named Jack leered.
Unthinking, automatically, knowing that in this she would have no choice either, Betty suppressed her revulsion, and took the head of his cock into the saliva moistened-warmth of her mouth.
"Turn your lips in over your teeth!" Jack growled, as her sharp teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of his pulsingly hardened shaft.
She obeyed, instantly. Then, quite naturally, she used her tongue, swirling it all around the smooth rubbery flesh, attempting finally to push the tip of her tongue into the tiny slit.
Gradually, her revulsion left her. She found its flavor different... heavily masculine, and she felt the throbbing jerk of it in her oral cavern, as she hollowed her cheeks and tried bravely to suck it. Dimly, she thought: Why... it's not that bad... or ugly...! And, she wished fervently that she'd not been so stubborn... when her own husband had wanted her to do it.
Walking back along the road to the Ballard's cabin, Arnie carried two large paper bags full of groceries. He was thinking about the coming evening... and how he'd try to change Betty's mind... Hell... she sort of left it open-ended... and I'll do my damndest to get her into the sack... again! To that end, there was a fifth of gin and Scotch in his shopping bags.
He passed a big, gold-colored Oldsmobile that was parked just below the cabin, on the road. Automatically, he read the license tag... and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" he muttered to himself. "They're here!" Then: Christ! I almost walked into a trap!
Quickly, he ditched the bags of groceries... And Jay Ballard's wife is in there... by herself!
He looked the cabin over, carefully. There's no guard... or lookout... that I can see...
Approaching the house carefully, he peeked into the living room window, keeping himself hidden. The room was not occupied. He could see on through the kitchen. That leaves the bedroom... God! Do you suppose...?
Inching himself cautiously along the side of the cabin, the big boxer gained the bedroom window. On the bed he saw the sexual tableau. He recognized Warren Ramsey from the party at his house in Newport... where all of it had begun. He's fucking her from behind... and that other guy whose cock she's sucking must be Jack Stearns! Ollie Pratt's not doing anything... right now!
Then he saw that all three had pistols lying close at hand! Damn! I wouldn't have a chance of a snowball in hell... in there!
Silently, he made his way back to the road and ran back to the village. He found a pay telephone at a service station. Jay Ballard was at home. He answered his telephone on the third ring.
Gradually, Jack began to flex his hips to force his aching cock deeper into Betty Ballard's widely ovalled mouth... and she took it, until finally he was driving it all the way down into her throat. She gagged, at first, but after a while she accepted it, matching him, as her head began to bob up and down, in simulation of genital intercourse.
Ollie was feeling cut out. It was he who had suggested a change in position, but things hadn't gone the way he had wanted it.
"God damn it!" she heard him growl. "I want to fuck her, too!"
"You'll have to wait, Ollie!" Warren snapped.
"Hell... why should I wait... when she can take all three of us... at the same time!" Pratt came back.
Three...? All three... at the some... t-time?? The monstrous idea slammed around inside her skull. Oh, God! No!
"How're you going to manage that...?" Warren asked.
"Hell! That's simple! One in her cunt... one up in her ass... and she sucks off the other one!"
Betty wanted to scream in protest. She couldn't because her mouth was stuffed full of Jack's hotly throbbing cock. That's impossible! They wouldn't! But, she knew they would. These three men were capable of anything. She truly believed they were. They're heartless!
Then, she felt, Ollie's hand caressing the flexing orbs of her buttocks. It slid down between Warren's pounding pelvis, that was driving his thundering prick deep into her cuntal sheath, and her quivering, clenching backside. A finger searching in the crevice for the puckered brown flesh of her anus, the tip of his finger probing at it, until it popped in past the ring of flexing muscle. Then he thrust hard, and his finger was worming around deep inside, moving twirlingly in the soft, sponginess of her rectum. It hurt! She screamed, but no sound escaped around the massive, pulsing presence in her mouth and throat.
Now, he thrust in a second finger, sawing it in and out, in tempo with Warren's fucking prick. She heard Ollie chortle through her pain, "She'll be ready... in about a minute!"
Suddenly, Betty heaved herself up to her hands. Kneeling on all fours she was able to clear her mouth of Jack's jerking, lust-filled cock.
Jack slapped her face, hard, growling, "Shut up, Bitch! We warned you not to scream!" He reached out to her head, grasping it roughly and forced her head back down to his moistly glistening cock's head. "Keep sucking!" he ordered.
Behind her she felt Ollie's fingers being pulled from her now slightly stretched rectum. His lewd voice came to her, as he said, "Now... she'll be able to take your cock! Just go ahead and shove it in her!"
Warren pulled out of her now wildly milking pussy and nudged the head of his rock-hard cock into the tiny, cringing opening. Then he shoved, hard, his legs straining as he forced the blood-engorged cock-head up into the lips of her tiny protesting anus a bare inch. The pain was almost unbearable, but she couldn't scream. Oh, my God... It'll split me in two!
With super-human effort, then, Warren thrust hard and drove his giant, wildly pulsing shaft deep into the smooth, warmth of her spongy-fleshed rectum, where he flexed it deep up inside her. Sweat broke out on Warren's face. The exquisite pleasure-pain of it was almost too much for him.
"Okay! Now, roll her over with her back on your stomach!" Ollie instructed, orchestrating the whole procedure.
Wrapping his short, brawny arms around Betty tightly, Warren rolled to his side, she following; then, he squirmed over onto his back, hauling her up to lie on his stomach, as he kept his penis imbedded deeply up into her wide-stretched rectum.
Ollie Pratt could hardly wait for her to get into position. With a groaning rush, he forced his loins up between her splayed-out legs, guiding his achingly throbbing cock straight into her flowered open cunt, without further preparation, plunging it home into her helplessly quivering belly.
"Oh God! Two of them sucking me!" Her head whirled spinningly, and her whole abdomen felt as though she were being torn asunder. Then, Jack, who had been forced to pull his almost ready to burst cock from her mouth while the position changed was made, knelt on all fours, crosswise above her face, bringing his lust-soaked cock-head down to her mouth, again, growling, "Here it is, Baby! Now... suck me good... and all the way!"
Hungrily, she ovalled her lips to take it into her mouth, not understanding why... just knowing that now she wanted to do it, as above her Ollie Pratt began fucking in and out of her wildly clasping cunt. At the same time, below, Warren was sawing in and out of her clinging rectum.
A concert of motion was there among them... and now, there was no pain for Betty. There was only the spiraling sensations rocketing through her, building within her almost beyond human endurance.
Never in Betty's wildest imagination could she have conjured up anything as bizarre... and never would she have divined that it could have happened to her. Three men were all fucking her... at the same time... and the sensations she was experiencing were simply out of this world. She felt as though she were being blasted off into deep space.
Suddenly, she began to convulse, arriving at her orgasm in an arcing flash of sensation. She began to cum... and cum... and cum... almost endlessly.
She couldn't scream it aloud because of the man named Jack's cock sliding wildly in and out of her mouth. Then, she was aware that the insanely throbbing expansion of it meant that he was beginning to climax. Somehow, it had never occurred to her, until that instant. God! He'll cum in my mouth! She didn't have time to think about it. He came. His hot, white semen spewed from the top of his expanding cock deep into her throat, and she was forced to swallow it, automatically, to keep from gagging. She could feel it flowing hotly in warmly cascading rivulets of milk-white heat far down into her hungrily accepting belly. Finally, gasping his lewd satisfaction, Jack pulled his deflating penis from her mouth and rolled to his side. He groaned, "That was good, Baby Doll... damned good!"
... And now, Ollie, cradled between her wide-spread legs, began to slam long, hard cunt-punishing strokes into her... and she began to cum... for the second time!
"Ohhhhh! IIIIIII'mmm cummmmmmiiiiiinnnnggg... again! Fuuuuck meeeee! Haaaarrrrdd!" she screamed, demandingly. Then as she convulsed in soul-shattering release she opened her mouth and squealed out her completion, sandwiched between the two wildly ravishing cocks. "AAAAaaaaauuuuugggggh!"
Almost simultaneously, Ollie, above her driving toward his ejaculation, pounded into her deeply, and he was there, spewingly... while below, slamming up into her squirming rectum, Warren's cock also began to jet out its white, hot semen. She could feel both wildly pumping pricks, as they jerked expandingly deep inside both of her desperately milking passages.
Ollie groaned out his satisfaction, as he held himself stiffened above her, not moving, while his heavy load of sperm was hosed through him to splash deeply up into her greedily clasping vaginal tunnel. Beneath her, Warren heaved up against her to drive his spewing penis deep, lifting them both, as his cum spurted deep into the clinging sponginess of her rectum.
Then Ollie collapsed on top of her. The only sounds in the bedroom for several moments were those of raspy breathing and moans of satisfaction.
The orgy was finished and Betty Ballard felt as the whole of her insides was nothing more than a great swirling pool of heated male sperm. She was filled to the bursting point.
There was only the unfinished business of Arnie Pearson, as the three deadly men waited for him to return to the cabin.
Chapter Eight
Warren Ramsey, Jack Stearns and Ollie Pratt were dressed now, and Warren had ordered Betty tied up again. Not bothering to cover her shameful nakedness and sperm covered body, they had bound and gagged her, leaving her there on the bed where she had been ravished to sort out her thoughts and feelings.
Outside Jay Ballard and Arnie Pearson played the same waiting game. As Jay had explained it, "Sooner or later... one of them'll come out... and we nail him!"
Inside the cabin, Warren growled, "Stop worrying... damn it! He'll have to come back... his car is still here!"
"... But it's been over two hours, now!" Jack Stearns fumed. "I think I'll go out and take a look around! He could be bringing all the fuzz in the County down on us!"
Confidently, Warren declared, "He won't go to the police!"
Stearns came out onto the porch and looked out into the gathering darkness, seeing that Arnie's rental car was undisturbed. Everything seemed to be peaceful and quiet, but Jack was worried. I wonder where the hell he is...? As he turned to go back into the cabin, he slumped without a sound from a sharp blow to the back of his neck, delivered by Jay Ballard. Arnie caught him and together the two men moved off into the darkness, carrying Stearns' unconscious form. He was soon disarmed and tied securely, lying in a ditch beside the road.
"One down... and two to go!" Jay whispered. "... And, it won't be long before they'll be looking for him!"
They settled down to wait. Five minutes passed.
"What the hell's keeping Jack...? Maybe you'd better check on him, Ollie!" Ramsey growled.
"He's mine!" Arnie whispered.
Ollie came out of the cabin, his pistol clutched in his good left hand. He peered into the darkness. "Stearns!" he called. "Where the hell are you?"
"Over here... Ollie!" Jay stage-whispered.
The former boxer moved toward him, as Arnie came from behind, Jack's pistol in his hand.
"Drop the gun... Ollie!" Arnie told him, low-voiced.
"Son-of-a-bitch! Arnie!"
He swung around to level his pistol, just as Jay sprang from cover, bringing his own hand gun down in a short, hard arc against Ollie's gun-clutching hand. The steel barrel crunched the bones of that hand, and the pistol clattered to the porch flooring.
"OOww!" he screeched, looking down, helplessly, as he realized both his hands were broken.
Ramsey, hearing Ollie's shriek of pain, jumped up from his chair and dashed toward the front door, his pistol in his hand.
Standing in the darkness of the porch, Jay could have shot him... but he didn't. He wanted the man to live... to face a court. The crazy impulse to charge in shooting had already been stilled. Now, he coolly waited for his man and chopped him down with a stunning blow to the back of the neck as he came through the door.
Pausing only long enough, to pick up Ramsey's pistol and grunt to Arnie, "Take care of them!" he headed toward the bedroom and his wife.
Quickly, he freed her, and she was in his arms.
"Jay! Oh, Jay!" she cried with relief. "They... r-raped me... and did horrible things... t-to m-me!"
"I know... darling... but everything's all right, now!" he soothed, as her hysteria mounted.
Jay summoned a doctor, who administered a sedative to her and recommended that she rest in bed for a day or two.
To the sheriff's deputies who came to take the three men into custody, Jay recounted the charges he would bring against them. "I'll be talking to the D.A... but for now, we can start off with forcible rape, assault with a deadly weapon and conspiracy to commit extortion... and if we can get the word out fast enough... we can take Carla Reynolds off that plane in Hawaii. I want her held as a material witness!"
The human spirit is resilient and time is its best ally.
It was three weeks later, at Betty's insistence, that Arnie and Joan Pearson were guests for dinner at the Ballard home.
She was the perfect hostess, serving everything to perfection, and after dinner with drinks in their hands, the conversation turned to the experiences they had shared.
Arnie was uncomfortable. Betty was seated next to him on the couch, and as the talk drifted to sex, it was Betty who carried the conversational ball.
"One thing... I found out... was that I was dead wrong... the way I treated Jay... before... and I found out that I'm more responsive than I thought!"
"You can say that, again!" Jay put in. "I've got a real tigress in bed, now!"
"... But, one thing I've really thought about... and Jay and I've talked about it, is that loving one man isn't enough for me...!"
Joan Pearson cut in, then, "Do you mean... you want to have affairs, now?"
"No... that's not what she means!" Jay said. "Let's all face the truth of the matter!" He looked around at the other three. "I've made it with Joan... and Arnie's made it with Betty! What we're talking about... is more of the same!"
"Damn! You're not serious?!" Arnie grinned, "... Are you...?"
"We are!" Betty and Jay said it almost simultaneously.
Betty turned toward Arnie and asked breathlessly, "What do you think darling...?"
"I think it's a damned good idea!"
"What about you Joan...?" Jay asked.
"Well... it's kind of a wild idea... but..." She stopped momentarily, looking at her husband Arnie. Then, as Betty Ballard slid easily into her husband's arms, she went on, "I'll go along with it!"
Jay Ballard came to where Arnie's wife sat, took her by the arm, lifting her, then led her down the hallway toward the guest room.
"This time," he told her, "we'll have plenty of time to get acquainted... first!"
