Seconds after the blood-curdling, horrifying scream shattered through the silence, Randy rushed out into the hallway and burst into Gina's room. She turned dazed, frightened eyes on him, her lips moving almost soundlessly. "It was a huge face, with the most evil expression I've ever seen," she whispered, pointing to the ancient fireplace. "It covered almost the entire wall." As Randy continued to question her about the ghostly apparition, he could not help letting his glance stray to the creamy white cleft of her bosom, to linger over her ripe, shapely body. He felt a wild, impulse to throw Gina down on the bed and tear off her clothes. His original idea was losing importance when confronted with Gina's rampant sexuality. And the sex-driven girl who ran the big house wasn't opposed to this new direction, either.
CHAPTER ONE
Randy Garten had just stepped out of the shower, and he knew he had a hard night ahead of him. Even though he had to teach tomorrow, he had a twenty-two-year-old English major waiting for him in the bedroom, and he was looking forward to giving her some extracurricular education.
"Professor, you've got a beautiful body. You could be an athlete instead of a teacher." Patti Payne looked up at him adoringly from the bed.
She was barely five feet tall, and weighed no more than one hundred pounds, but she looked like dynamite. Long, golden-blonde hair, and breasts like small melons.
"The name is Randy, baby, when you're in my bedroom," and with that he climbed into bed with her and started sucking on one of her nipples.
Her thighs were working together, and her breasts were rising and falling from her breathing. With an ecstatic sigh he kissed her mouth, hard, then harder, forcing her lips apart so that his teeth grazed hers before he pushed his tongue through and into her mouth.
His hand went away, wandering over her body, trembling over the luscious flesh. He reached right down and slid his hand along her leg, up over the knee and up the thigh. He played with the thighs, teasing them with his fingertips, drawing his nails over the glossy young flesh, teasing her without touching her cunt. She moved and slithered on the bed, eyes closed in a heat of sensuality.
He too was fluttering inside. This was it. He moved his mouth from hers and ran his lips over her slim, soft face.
"Put your tongue in my mouth," he murmured.
Her lips sought his; then he felt the soft, wet sliver of her tongue edge between his lips and push, into his mouth. She flicked it in and out like a cobra, breathing into his mouth, breathing her passion.
He sucked her tongue, his saliva mingling with hers, then forced it to retreat as he filled her mouth with his tongue.
Her hands moved around his head and neck, but occasionally they jerked when his superb technique gave her more of a shock.
Softly he began to brush her with his fingertips. Gently, gently, back and forth, until the moisture began to develop along her smooth, young thighs. Then he moved, searched for and found the wet, hard little projection.
Gently he massaged it, feeling it increase in thickness, harden in his fingers. Patti began to squeal and jerked her head away from his, then back in little gusts of uncontrollable passion.
"Oh, God!" she squealed, and thrust her tongue wildly into his mouth the way he'd instructed her.
Randy, his face hot, perspiration beading his brow, worked his fingers along, pushing up through the tight, moist flesh which was smooth as sealskin. Patti jerked and passed her thighs tightly over his hand, hindering his progress. He felt the warm flesh of her thighs bulging around his hand. Gently he tickled her with his fingers, and gradually she relaxed again and opened her legs.
'I can't stand this much longer,' he thought. 'I'll have to get in the bitch or I'll come first.'
He leaned up from her a little and looked at her. Her face was flushed; she didn't open her eyes, and her lips were open, quivering every so often. He looked down at her body. The nightdress was up around her hips, revealing the delicious proportions of her thighs, the soft bulges of skin between her legs, the little area of down at her thigh juncture.
He swooped down to her breasts, kissed them, sucked the nipples, making her squirm with unbearable ecstasy. He ran his lips down over her ribs, her belly, which yielded spongily before the pressure. He covered her hips with hot, wet kisses, following the crease of her groin, licking the smooth, warm-tasting skin of her thighs.
"Oh, Christ! Christ!" She seemed incapable of saying anything but those two words as she wriggled her shoulders in the air and squirmed her hips and belly under his lips.
He moved his lips tantalizingly along the fleshy tops of her thighs.
"Oh, I can't stand it!"
But she didn't close her legs, and he thought, 'You'll have more than this to stand before I've finished, you lovely little cunt.'
Gently he pushed his hands under her buttocks. They were tightened now, tense in his hands as she strained up toward his lips. He grasped a buttock in each hand and felt them, digging in his fingers, feeling them relax onto his palms, flood out in a sudden give of flesh all over his hands.
He gripped them pushed her thighs wider with his head and licked her.
She made noises of torment, as if she were gargling with water in her throat. He flicked his tongue into the aperture, which seemed to give way on all sides.
She began to squirm in convulsive spasms. Her breath passed through her lips in a continuous, groaning whimper.
As her movements became wilder and less controlled, he eased off and eventually removed his mouth from her.
His penis was sticking out like a pike. He was afraid she might run from the room at the sight of its size, but instead she fixed her fascinated gaze on it as if hypnotized.
He ran his lips all around her neck and put his tongue in her ear until she shivered with the sensation and put her arms back around his neck.
For a few seconds he kneaded her again until she was moaning with pleasure, then he slithered onto her body.
Oh, the delight of feeling that warm, soft flesh meet his at so many points at once! It was as if she were gently kissing him all over.
For several seconds Randy just lay on her, rubbing her fleshy lower belly, grating his chest, his hairy chest, against the smooth silk of her breasts, moistening her lips with his tongue, licking her closed eyelids, stroking her golden plaits as he worked his loins into an unendurable state of dynamic tension.
"Patti, my sweet," he whispered. "Now I'm going to give you real delight."
In answer she gripped him with her slim arms and hugged him tight, murmuring still, simply, "Oh, Randy, Randy!"
He slipped his hand down. between their bodies, rough hair of his on one side, glossy, white flesh of hers on the other. He found the vagina and moved down for the entry.
Her arms tightened around him in frightened anticipation as her legs hung limply apart.
"Now," he muttered.
His cock slipped on the moisture of her thighs, encountered the soft, giving wetness, and then, with a gasp from them both, moved into the opening.
He thrust smoothly forward to a tighter region, and she uttered a stifled scream, jerking her hips backward. But he followed them with his loins and jogged gently on her, probing in no further, moving in and out just an inch or so while she became accustomed to the pressure.
Gradually she relaxed and her thighs went limp again on either side of his hips. He put his hands between their bodies and squeezed her breasts hard. She drew in her breath with a swoosh and wriggled invitingly down in the region where he was waiting to advance.
He flexed his hips in a little more, and she gasped and drew back again.
After a second or two she untensed again and he screwed his loins in little, circular motions on hers, pushing no further into her.
He turned her face, which was pressing sideways into the bed, and kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth, licking the corners of her lips until she, responded and thrust her own little tongue at his ... He screwed her gently, so gently, moving inward a fraction of a centimeter at a time. Every time he moved in, she tensed and he moved no further for a while.
He found it excruciating not to be able to plunge right up her to the very hilt of his power, but it also inflicted on him a fresh innovation, an exquisite form of self-torture. He moved his hands under her armpits. Yes, they were sweating, too. She was in a real answering, fever heat.
The thin pricking of sensation seemed to be at the breaking point; it seemed, of its own accord, to be bursting up and up, and it was only when she cried out again in anguish that he realized he was thrusting with greater and greater force. Only this time he couldn't slow down, couldn't stop and mark time to allow her to recover.
Tightly he held her upper arms while he wriggled his hips in closer.
She felt as if her belly, her loins, were being purged in a painful, splitting scourging. And always, always as she thought it eased, the pain broke out afresh and the great object tearing and thundering inside swept up, impossibly, farther and farther.
Randy was in delirium. He moved his hands under her ass, pushing his fingers, crushing into that tightly grasping pipeline. He squeezed her buttocks in a paroxysm of sensuality, thrust his fingers at her little rosebud. And all the time the fire was growing and growing, drawing obscenities from his mouth. He had nearly disappeared into her body now. There was little left to go. By the time of the explosion which was twisting his lips with its imminence, he would be crushing right in, stuffing her with the entirety of his penis. He pulled her thighs up to facilitate his last two inches and pushed home the last length of pulsating cock. Patti gasped, but a gasp which was three parts pleasure, one part shock.
The doctor's loins were aflame. He was heavy and prickling inside her. It felt ready to burst along its whole length. His belly was heaving in and out; his hands rifled her ass, pinching it, grabbing it in paroxysms, digging at her while she squirmed on his fingerpoints.
"Patti!" he moaned.
"Randy," she answered tenderly through her regrowing passion.
His lips moved, but no sounds came out except his choking breath. It was coming. He rammed smack into her, burying his cock so deep that his force made her squeal. In his belly there was a churning, a churning that was pure essence of sensation. Everything paled; he felt dizzy. The heat and solid, pricking fury of the sensation was everything, but for dazed impressions of this beautiful body, this beautiful girl lying under him, giving him such ecstasy from her lovely, passionate flesh.
In the depths of his chest a long-drawn, choking gasp slowly followed the course of the loin-convulsing drawing of his groaning. He leaned up from her except for his loins. He gripped her waist just above the hips and squeezed it with more and more force as the sensations rushed inside him and with a last rush shattered out and into her as he jerked uncontrollably, until he let go of her waist and slipped exhaustedly down onto the warmth of her flesh. Red marks were left on the tender white flesh where his hands had gripped.
When Professor Randy Garten finished his classes Friday, he breathed a sigh of relief that was heard throughout the classroom. He watched the students file out in a rush before he rose from his desk and indulged in a luxurious stretch. As his students frequently remarked to each other, particularly the young female students, Randy Garten looked like anything but a professor, and least of all a professor of abnormal psychology. He was six foot one, with thick, curly black hair, deep-blue eyes that seldom missed anything, and the wide shoulders and powerful physique of a professional athlete. And because he looked considerably younger than his thirty-four years, he was often mistaken by strangers on the campus as a student himself.
He put a sheaf of papers that had to be graded that weekend into his briefcase and switched off the light, locking the door behind him as he left. Walking down the hall, he nodded pleasantly and absently at a passing student or teacher, unaware of the calculating, often hungry stares bestowed on him by the opposite sex. His mind was busy planning the weekend, wondering how many hours he would be able to devote to his book on extrasensory perception. In addition to being a psychologist, Randy Garten was a leading authority on the supernatural, and he spent almost as much time investigating the so-called spiritual world-elusive ghosts, in most cases as he did in his own classroom.
Turning into his office, he smiled at his part-time secretary, Gina, who was busy on the telephone, and went into his own private office, sinking down into the soft leather chair. Most people didn't realize it, he thought with irony, but a good teacher needed as much stamina in his feet as he did in his brain.
"Are you going to be here another thirty minutes, Doctor?" Gina asked from the doorway.
"I hadn't planned on it," he said slowly. "Why?"
Gina came over to his desk and laid a message on it. She was a tall, raven-haired girl in her early twenties, with high, pointed breasts and long, delicately tapered legs that Randy often found distracting when he was trying to concentrate. She'd been a student in one of his classes until he offered her the job as his part-time secretary, knowing she needed the money for tuition. As she leaned over his desk, her hip brushing against his arm, Randy became acutely aware of her femininity, as he'd been doing more and more in the last few weeks. He couldn't help but notice the way her full, ripe bosom strained at her cotton blouse, pulling it taut, or the fragrance of her body, a mixture of perfume and soap and something else, something he couldn't define perhaps nothing more, he decided, than the odor of a healthy, vibrant young woman. Whatever the fragrance consisted of, he found it pleasantly exciting.
"A woman called," said Gina, "a Miss Swanson. She said she wants to see you this afternoon. I told her you'd be leaving for the weekend and tried to make an appointment for Monday morning, but she sounded so ... well, so desperate I just couldn't refuse her. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears."
"Did she say what it was in reference to?" Randy asked.
He tried to keep his eyes fixed on hers, but it was difficult with the round, bewitching curve of her hip so close to his shoulder, not more than a couple of inches away as she stood looking down at him with those large, liquid eyes.
"She said only that it was in reference to psychic phenomena. More ghosts, I suppose," added Gina wryly.
"You don't believe in them, do you, Gina?" he asked.
She shrugged, pulling her blouse taut against her pointed breasts.
"You've never found any real evidence, have you, Professor? Oh, I want to believe, just for your sake. I mean anything that verifies your research will make you happy. And anything that makes you happy, well, I guess it makes me happy, too."
She smoothed her skirt over her thighs, and Randy's eyes automatically followed her hands. He noticed that her skirt was almost five inches above her knees, revealing the beginning of her smooth thighs.
He coughed. "About your skirt, Gina ... "
"I'm sorry about that," she said quickly. "I just didn't have anything else to wear today. I know it's not exactly dignified around the office. I won't wear it again, Doctor, I promise."
He smiled. "I was about to say, Gina, that you should wear it more often. Takes away some of the stuffiness around here."
She smiled gratefully, her even white teeth glistening between her full lips. "Thanks, Doctor."
"And that's another thing I've been meaning to talk to you about," he said sternly. "You've been my secretary for two months now, and it's about time you stopped addressing me as if we were in the classroom. Randy's the name."
"Randy," she said softly, caressing the name.
For an instant as she gazed down at him, he saw something flicker in her eyes, a ravenous hunger, an urgent, pent-up desire. Then she quickly stepped back, as if ashamed.
"Miss Swanson said she'd be here by five," she said. "Another twenty minutes, at least. If you've got any dictation for me ... "
"Nothing that can't wait until Monday morning, Gina. Why don't you run along home now? You've probably got a boy friend that's anxious to meet you ... ? "
"No, I haven't," she said quickly. "I'm not anxious to get home at all. It's just a room in a boarding house, anyway."
"No boy friend?" Randy asked, puzzled. "A lovely girl like you without at least two or three men fighting for the privilege of taking you out? That's hard to believe."
"Oh I get asked out plenty of times," Gina said. "It isn't as if there's a shortage of dates. I'm just, well, just fussy about who I spend my time with. Frankly, Doctor Randy, I mean I'd rather spend my time working for you. In fact, I've got some correspondence to catch up on, so if you don't mind, I'll take care of it while you wait for Miss Swanson."
"Go right ahead, Gina."
She flashed him a smile and walked out of his office. He watched her thoughtfully as she closed the door behind her. For the first time, he found himself wondering about Gina Rowe. He'd never really thought of her sexually. His mind had been so preoccupied with his work that up until now he'd regarded her only as a rather pretty, very efficient secretary. Watching her walk out of his office in that graceful, effortless manner of hers, watching the way her ass rippled beneath her tight skirt, admiring her narrow waist and long, lovely, tapered legs, he realized he'd never taken the trouble to look at her before. She was an extremely attractive girl, and she was obviously fond of him,. More than fond, he corrected himself, if that brief, hot flash in her eyes was any indication.
As he worked for the next twenty minutes over an article on animal psychology, he couldn't get her out of his mind. He found himself wondering if her body were as lush as her figure promised, or whether she used some of the cunning devices he knew females used to enhance their sex appeal on the surface padded bras with special uplifts, tight girdles to hold in flabby mounds of unwanted flesh, even padded panties to make their buttocks more ample and curvaceous. That didn't sound at all like Gina, but a man never knew until he saw the authentic article in the nude. He was plagued, too, by doubts about her sexual life. It just didn't seem possible anyone could be relatively inactive at twenty-three, at least anyone as frankly desirable as Gina. And yet there was something about her, some indefinable aura that persuaded him she was a one-man woman. Maybe it was the way her eyes shone, or the rich sheen of her hair, or the glow of her flawless, creamy skin, or maybe it was a combination of all these things that gave her that air of purity, of being untouched and unused.
Another thing that made Randy suspect she had few men was that sad, longing air she always seemed to have, as if something vital was missing from her life.
Bullshit, he concluded. Sexually deprived girls were rare enough at twenty-three, but it was simply too much to expect a girl as beautiful and sexy as Gina to remain intact.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Gina stepped in, saying, "Miss Swanson is here, Doctor."
"Send her in."
A young blonde girl-not more than eighteen, he judged-stepped into his office, and Gina shut the door behind her.
"I'm Professor Garten," he said. rising. "Have a seat, Miss Swanson."
She offered a soft, dimpled hand. "Sherry Swanson. It's awfully nice of you to see, me. I know you must be anxious to go home for the weekend, and I wouldn't have bothered you except ... except ... " Her voice trailed off, and her large green eyes glistened with tears.
Randy went around his desk and patted her shoulder reassuringly.
"Everything is going to be all right, Sherry. Just take a deep breath and calm down." He brought a chair forward and placed her in it gently. She clutched her purse, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Her long, blonde hair framed a face that had an innocent, angelic quality.
'She's nothing but a child,' he thought. Then his eyes strayed to her body, and he corrected his assessment. She wore a sweater that emphasized her small, compact bust, and matching hot pants that clung snugly to her thighs. Her legs, Randy noticed, showed the smooth, golden skin that some blondes seemed to be gifted with. Sherry Swanson was the kind of girl who would be smooth and golden all over her petite body. She looked very supple, as small-boned persons frequently are. Randy had the impression she could bend over and touch her toes without the slightest effort, or for that matter twist her body into a variety of positions, like a contortionist. When she crossed her legs, he suddenly realized he'd been staring at her body. His face flushed, and he went back behind his desk and sat down.
"Now let's take it from the beginning, Sherry."
She nodded, running the pink tip of her tongue across her lips. :ike everything else about her, they were small but very sensual.
"Last week," she began in a slightly shaky voice, "I got a telegram informing me that my mother had died, leaving me her house at Derring. Do you know where that is? It's about forty miles from here, just a village, really. The house isn't actually in the town, it's on the outskirts, on a hill. My mother lived there alone, except for the caretaker, Groton. My father died years ago. Anyway, Ava and I--Ava's my foster sister, adopted when she was a child--Ava and I decided to stay on at the house for a while after the funeral, to sort of tidy things up before I sell it. I'd better explain that it's far too big and expensive to maintain for one person. My mother refused to sell it because of sentiment, I suppose. Our family has lived there for generations. It's an old mansion, actually, run down now, but it was beautiful when I lived there as a child. Anyway, a few nights ago, the ... the horrible things started happening."
She paused, and Randy said, "What kind of things? Be as specific as possible, Sherry."
"Well, about three o'clock in the morning I was awakened by this horrible sobbing noise. I got out of bed, thinking it must have been Ava, but she was asleep in her room. I walked through the house, trying to find the source of the noise, but it seemed to be coming from everywhere, a horrible, echoing crying." She shivered. "Finally, it stopped. I was about to go back to bed when the laughing started. It wasn't an ordinary laugh. It was the most diabolical, cruel kind of laughing I've ever heard a taunting, really. I was standing in the library shaking with fear and suddenly the chandelier came crashing down. It's one of those heavy, ancient chandeliers, and if it had hit me-" her voice shook,-"but it didn't. It missed me by not more than a foot or so. Ava woke up and came running. I told her about the noises, and she said it must have been a nightmare because she hadn't heard a thing until the noise of the chandelier crashing woke her up. If was old anyway, she said, and the chain must have given way. I finally went back to bed, but not to sleep. Then the next night the banging began."
"Banging?" said Randy.
"Yes. On the walls, on the ceiling, everywhere. The whole house seemed to shake with it. It was as if a giant fist was smashing at the house. This time Ava heard it, too, and Groton, the caretaker. He sleeps downstairs, in the servants' quarters."
"How long did this banging last?"
"Ten minutes or so. We all stood downstairs listening to it. And then on the way upstairs, the statue fell."
"What statue?"
"There was a large marble statue in a nook at the top of the stairs, a statue of a nude woman. If Ava hadn't shouted at me, I'd never have gotten out of the way in time. She and Groton were at the bottom of the stairs. I was halfway up them."
"And that's all?"
Her eyes glistened with tears. "Isn't that enough? The next night there weren't any ... any accidents, I guess you'd call them. But there was the laughing and crying again." She put her hands to her temples and squeezed. "It's enough to, drive a person mad."
"Any history of this kind of thing over the years when your mother lived there?" he asked.
"Mother never mentioned it if there was."
"What kind of a relationship did you have with your mother?"
"She loved me, of course." Sherry caught her breath. "You don't think she has anything to do with this?"
"I don't think anything yet, Sherry. But I'd like very much to spend the weekend at the house, if it's all right with you. We'll soon find out how authentic these noises are. And the so-called accidents."
Sherry impulsively jumped up and clutched his hand. "Would you, Doctor Garten? I don't think I can stand another night of it. I'd feel so much safer with you there ... "
Her hand was hot and moist in his. He stood up. "I'll drive up this evening. If you don't mind, I'll bring a colleague. I'll need an impartial witness and observer."
"Bring anyone you like. The more, the better."
She followed him to the door. Before he could open it, she gratefully flung her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "This is so sweet Of you. It'll be wonderful to have a real man with us."
"What about the caretaker?" Randy asked, acutely aware that her arms were still around his neck and her small, firm body pressed to his. He wondered if she realized her breasts were digging hard against his chest. She stepped away then, either consciously or unconsciously thrusting her hips and soft belly against him before releasing her grasp. He felt a sharp twinge of excitement.
Sherry wrinkled her straight little nose. "Groton is a creep. I'd have fired him days ago, except that Ava is so insistent about his staying. You'd think they were lovers or something."
A flash of realization lit up her eyes for an instant. "It couldn't be," she murmured. "But I wouldn't put anything past Ava." She reached into
her purse and took out a map.
"This is a map of Derring and the surrounding area. The location of the house is marked. My phone number is on there, too, in case you have trouble finding it."
Randy opened the door with a grin. "Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you, Sherry?"
"To tell you the truth, I expected some old fuddy-duddy with white hair, a sort of fatherly figure I could wring sympathy out of. I didn't expect a hunk of man like you. See you tonight."
She was halfway past Gina's desk when she turned. "By the way," she said in a soft voice, glancing at Gina in an odd, catty way, "I've already reserved your bedroom. It's next to mine. That's safest, don't you think?"
Before he could reply, Gina muttered, "I wonder."
Sherry walked out of the office, jouncing her cute little ass, turning at the door to give one last wave.
"I know it's none of my business," said Gina, standing up, "but if I were you, Randy, I wouldn't let that innocent face of hers deceive you. She's about as hot as an express train, if I know anything about women."
"You're right about one thing, Gina," said Randy in a hard voice. "It's none of your business."
Her face grew pink. "I'm sorry. I guess I spoke out of turn. I was just thinking of you."
"I don't know whether it's occurred to you," he said dryly, "but I am over twenty-one and unmarried, and I do take women out occasionally. I've even been known to make love to them, when they're attractive."
She stared at her toe silently for a minute. Then she said in a voice that was almost a whisper, "Do you ... do you have to like them a lot first?"
"It helps," he admitted. "Why?".
She swallowed hard, and her eyes slowly went up to meet his. "Do you like me, Randy?"
His gaze traveled to her full bust, which rose and fell unevenly with inner excitement. He had a wild impulse to cup her breasts in his hands and squeeze them gently, to run his hands over the narrow taper of that waist and down those beautifully molded hips and firm thighs. He quickly strangled the urge, not because he thought she'd fight he sensed that she wouldn't-but because they were standing there with the door open onto the hallway, in plain view of anyone passing by.
"Of course I like you, Gina," he said finally. "Why?"
She stepped closer to him, and he saw the pulse throbbing in her creamy-white throat. She took a deep breath and started to say something. Her eyes mirrored an inner struggle for a moment. Then her teeth sank into her lower lip, biting off whatever it was she was going to say. She quickly went back to her desk.
"I just wondered, that's all," she said weakly.
Randy glanced at his watch, remembering he would need an impartial observer to go to Derring with him that evening.
"Get me Professor Farley on the phone he told Gina. "Try his office first and if he isn't there, call his home." He went back into his office and sat down while Gina dialed.
He was certain he knew what she was going to say before she changed her mind. She was going to ask him to make love to her; she was going to verify what he'd seen earlier in her eyes. The blood began to pound in his temples at the thought of that luscious body, offered freely and willingly to him.
"I called his home," said Gina, poking her head in the doorway. "He's gone camping for the weekend."
Randy ran over a list of names mentally. None of them were available for the weekend. He stared thoughtfully at Gina for a moment before he spoke.
"How would you like to take a trip this weekend? Nothing scandalous," he said with a laugh, seeing the astonished look on her face. "This is strictly business. I'm going to Sherry Swanson's house up in Derring, about forty miles from here, to investigate some weird phenomena. I'll need an impartial witness, someone with a level head and scientific bent of mind. I think you qualify both counts."
"I'd love to," she answered quickly.
"Fine," he said, standing up. "According Sherry, I'd better warn you it might dangerous!"
"I feel perfectly safe with you, Randy."
"Good. Run home and pack an overnight case. I'll pick you up about seven. We'll have dinner the way. Fair enough?"
She smiled. "Fair enough. It's about time I had an exciting weekend for a change."
"Exciting scientifically, you mean, of course," he said, locking his desk.
Her eyes smoldered. "Of course," she said softly.
CHAPTER TWO
They had dinner at a roadhouse off the highway. Gina seemed quiet and thoughtful as she picked at her food, as though concerned with some problem. Occasionally she shot Randy a warm glance, but she had very little to say to him. Before they left the restaurant, it began to rain, a light drizzle at first, but growing steadily worse as Randy resumed
driving. Soon it became a raging torrent, reducing visibility to nearly zero. He slowed the car down to ten miles an hour, peering through the windshield cautiously.
"How far do we have to go yet?" Gina asked.
"Twenty miles, at least. At this rate, it'll take another two hours."
"Is it safe to drive in a storm like this?" she asked.
"It's not as safe as walking, I suppose, but it's, lot more comfortable."
By now the car was barely crawling through the thick, relentless downpour "I'm afraid we'll have to wait it out. If I can only find a shoulder off the highway to park on ... "
"It doesn't look like it's ever going to let up," Gina said. "There's a neon sign up ahead."
Randy squinted, and made out the word.
"It's a motel. We'll be able to park there for while."
He pulled the car into the driveway and stopped in front of the office.
"I'd better telephone Sherry and tell her we'll be late," he said to Gina. "She'll feel better if she knows we're on the way."
He made a dash for the office, getting thoroughly soaked in the space of two yards. Inside, he unbuttoned his raincoat and went up to the counter. The clerk was a middle-aged man with a cheerful face.
"Looks like rain," said the clerk.
"It only looks that way. Have you got a telephone?"
"Yep. Won't do you no good, though."
"Why not?"
"Lines are down." The clerk leaned on the counter in a folksy manner. "Got one room left, though, twin beds. Twelve dollars. Cheap in this weather, believe me. Your wife with you?"
"No," Randy said, with a glance back at the car. "Do you mind if we park in your lot until the rain lets up?"
"Don't mind," said the clerk, grinning, "but unless you plan to sleep in the car, don't waste your time."
"What do you mean?"
"Ever been around here before, mister?"
"No, I haven't. Why?"
The clerk cackled. "Around here, this is what we call a light drizzle. It'll go on like this all night. Get worse before it gets better, too. If I was you, I'd grab the last room before somebody else does. Business is always terrific in this kind of weather." The clerk winked broadly. "Good weather for screwing."
When Randy hesitated, the clerk asked, "Who's with you?"
Randy started to say secretary, but checked himself. If it was the last vacant room and if the clerk refused to rent it to him, they'd have to spend a cramped night in the car where sleep would be impossible. For a minute, he wondered whether he ought to cheek with Gina to see if she would object, but he was certain she wouldn't not to twin beds. She'd made it clear more than once she trusted him.
"My sister is with me." he told the clerk. "I'll take the room."
He signed the register and gave the clerk twelve dollars. The clerk handed him the key. "Number Nine. Fourth door to your right. Best room in the house. Pleasant dreams."
The clerk went back to his magazine, not interested in wasting further conversation now that the room was rented.
Randy dashed back to the car, getting another, drenching.
"Did you phone her?" asked Gina.
"The phone lines are out," he said, wiping his dripping. face with a handkerchief. "And the clerk says this rain will keep up all night."
"What are we going to do?"
He turned to face her. "I've already done it, Gina. He said he had only one room left to rent, and I figured it would be a lot more comfortable than spending the night in the car. The room has twin beds. I told him you were my sister. Is it all right with you?"
Her voice was soft. "Anything you decide is all right with me, Randy."
"I know you trust me," he said, "and that's why I didn't bother to get your approval first. You do trust me, don't you, Gina?"
She smiled. "I'd trust you enough to let you scrub my back in the shower if you wanted."
The thought made him squirm. He started the engine and pulled the car up to Number Nine.
"Let's make a run for it," he said.
Together they ran the few steps to the door and got soaked while he fumbled with the key. Inside, he flipped on the light. The room was hardly sumptuous, but it was large and clean and warm. He shut the door and locked it.
"We'd better get out of these wet things," he said. "Did you bring a robe?"
"No, but I've got a negligee. I'll shower first. okay?"
"Sure." He took off his coat and hung it in the closet next to hers. Then he went over to the far bed and sat facing the wall, taking off his shoes and socks. He loosened his tie and lit a cigarette, listening to the din the rain made on the roof, thinking about Sherry Swanson. Would she realize that he was on the way but couldn't get through because of the storm? He felt an uneasy sense of responsibility for her safety. Still, there was nothing he could do tonight. She would simply have to survive the night as best she could without his help.
"I'm going to shower now," said Gina behind him.
When he heard the bathroom door close, he got up and took off the rest of his clothes, hanging them in the closet next to hers. His eyes lingered on her panties. He, felt a sharp twinge of desire, and carefully filed it away in his mind. It was going to he a long night it wasn't even ten o'clock yet and thoughts like that would only create insomnia.
Going across the room, he paused by the full-length mirror, noting with approval his wide, muscled shoulders and slim hips. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him. Remembering he'd left his suitcase in the car, he wrapped a towel around his waist and lay on the bed smoking, waiting for Gina to finish her shower. From time to time his eyes strayed to her feminine under things hanging in the closet. It still didn't seem possible that any girl with such an exciting body could avoid sexual encounters at the age of twenty-three. Emotionally, he realized, it could be dangerous for her to suppress such powerful, healthy urges. Some women became neurotic, even hysterical, as a result of bottling up such tremendous energy. And some, he remembered, went violently in the other direction once they'd had a taste of real sex, unable to satisfy their accumulated desire, pent-up over the years to the boiling point. Nature had blessed Gina with a remarkably beautiful body, and if she allowed it to become over-ripened without satisfaction, she was running a dangerous risk.
He heard the shower stop. A few minutes later, Gina came out. Her wealth of black hair hung to her shoulders, framing a face that was fresh and radiant without make-up. Her black negligee hung loosely over her statuesque body, revealing two pink, rosy areolas through the fine black haze. He realized with a shock that she was naked underneath, then remembered her wet things hung in the closet, and she had nothing else to wear.
He also realized that she was staring at his body, her lips slightly parted.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't know you were so ... so well developed, I guess."
"I try to keep in shape," he said. "Too many desk workers get flabby before they know it's happening." He stood up, unable to tear his eyes away from her body, its outline clearly visible in the soft light of the bedside lamp. Whatever doubts he'd had earlier about her luscious figure not being authentic were completely dissolved. Even her nipples were visible through the silky black haze, centered precisely in her firm, proud breasts. A tremendous surge of desire made him avoid her eyes.
"The shower's all yours," she said in a tight, dry voice.
He caught the overtone of nervousness and fright in her voice, aware that he must have been staring at her with naked lust in his eyes.
He walked carefully around her and went into the bathroom, closing the door with a sigh of relief. He had to control his thoughts or he would end up spending a fitful, sleepless night.
Either that, or he would lose control completely and take her. That was a distinct possibility, he admitted to himself. After all, that wild and
exciting body would only be two or three feet away for the next eight or nine hours. And he was only human.
He got a firm grip on himself and stepped into the shower. He scrubbed himself until his skin tingled, and finished with a spray of ice-cold water, thinking with irony about the old wives' tale that cold showers dampened sexual arousal. From experience, he knew they did nothing of the sort. If anything, a cold shower acted as a stimulant. And the last thing Randy needed that night was another stimulant.
He rubbed himself dry, wrapped the towel around his waist and went back into the bedroom. Gina lay in one of the beds, her eyes closed. He knew she wasn't asleep. Before he switched off the lamp, he lit a cigarette. In the darkness, he took off the towel and tossed it over a chair. He crawled between the cool, clean sheets of his bed and smoked in silence, listening to the hammering of the rain, trying hard to keep his thoughts away from Gina's body.
Her voice drifted over to him, as soft as the rustle of silk.
"I'm really sorry about what I said this afternoon, Randy. It's none of my business what Sherry Swanson does. Or what you do, either. I don't want you to think I'm a prude, or an old maid. The last thing in the world I want to be is a self-righteous bitch at twenty-three."
"That's all right, Gina," he said. "You're anything but an old maid. If you want to know the truth, you're one of the most exciting and desirable women I've ever met."
She was silent for a while. Then a short, sharp crack of thunder sounded, and she cried out.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up.
"The thunder, she whispered. "I've always been frightened of it. It's silly, I know, but I can't help it. Would you do me a favor, Randy?"
"Of course. Anything."
"When I was a little girl and it thundered, I used to crawl in bed with my mother. Just lying close to someone helps a lot. Would you come over here and just lie next to me until it stops thundering?"
"Sure, Gina," he said in a husky voice. He got out of his bed and went over to hers. She moved over, making room for him.
"I didn't bring pajamas he explained as he crawled in beside her. "I never use them. I've always slept naked, a habit from childhood."
They lay side by side in the narrow bed, shoulders and thighs in contact. He was astonished at the heat of her skin. It felt as if it were on fire.
"Could you sort of hold me?" she whispered. "That's what my mother used to do."
'Just call me mother,' he thought wryly, putting his arms around her.
She snuggled up to him, drawing her knees up slightly. Through her negligee, he rubbed the smooth skin of her back, feeling a sharp and demanding desire for her.
The question came to his lips without thinking. "Are you a virgin, Gina?"
"Yes," she whispered. "You probably think I'm a terrible square," she added hastily, "but I just never really wanted sex. Until now, that is."
"You mean, you want me to make love to you?" he asked hoarsely, his blood racing at the prospect.
"I want it more than anything in the world," she said. "I can feel it throbbing in me, like a fever. Will it hurt, Randy?"
"Only a little. I'll be as careful as possible. After the pain, it will be all pleasure."
"What do I have to do?"
He couldn't resist a smile at that. "Nothing, Gina. Just relax and leave it to me. It's not a medical operation."
She shivered suddenly. "Shouldn't I take this off?"
"It would help."
She tossed back the covers and got out of bed. In the dim light from the window, he watched her as she slipped out of her negligee. A sliver of light fell across her body as she stood there, and he sucked in his breath. Her breasts were lush and full, just begging to be fondled and kissed. His eyes went to her soft, yielding stomach and traveled over the satiny skin of her thighs and the dark triangle of her lush pussy. She stood there for a moment, stroking her stomach and hips with her hands, unaware that she was exciting him tremendously.
"I'm not too fat, am I?"
"You're perfect, just perfect."
She crawled back in bed, pleased at the compliment, snuggling up to him again. He cupped one breast and squeezed it gently, feeling its ripe, heavy fullness, tickling the nipple with his thumb and forefinger, feeling it grow rigid. His lips found hers. They were soft and pliable at first, and then, as her hips squirmed with pleasure against his, she instinctively snaked her tongue in his mouth, probing with its hot tip. She did that for a moment, exploring his body with soft, searching hands.
"I'm ready now," she said.
"We haven't even begun."
He gave her a long, passionate kiss that made her tremble; then his tongue began a long, slow journey down her throat and between the valley of her breasts. Her skin was hot and moist against his lips. He found her nipple with his mouth, and sucked on it, biting the nipple ever so gently until she cried out with delight. He repeated the process with the other nipple, and before long she was crying softly and steadily. His hands caressed her soft, relenting stomach and went over her hips, traced the curve of her silky thighs, probed the inner surface, causing her to wiggle her hips with frantic pleading.
"Now," she cried out.
There was a perilous line, Randy knew, between excitement and torture, and Gina now teetered at the edge. Her nails were clawing his back, her breath was coming in short, painful gasps, her skin was feverish to his touch. Her body beneath him felt like one hot, pulsating mass of desire, begging, pleading, demanding satisfaction.
And yet, he wanted to prolong it, he wanted to intensify her pleasure so that her first association with love would condition her to womanhood as pleasantly as possible.
As a scholar, Randy Garten took great satisfaction in his work, doing it as efficiently and smoothly as he was able, always giving whatever task faced him his utmost concentration. He now applied this same skill and concentration to the task at hand, the gradual defloration of Gina.
"Now," she chanted, " now, now, now."
But in spite of her urgent demand, he casually worked his lips and tongue back up the valley of her breasts, stopping at certain areas of her body he knew in most women were supersensitive, stroking and kneading her flesh with his hands, while she responded by twining her long legs around his body, clutching his hair in her hands, snaking her tongue in his ear, then seizing his lower lip between her teeth and biting.
"Please, now!" she cried.
Randy relented. He got on top of her and, by degrees, gave her his cock. She let out a long moan and arched her back. Their bodies locked together in a fierce embrace, and he seized her round, firm buttocks in his hands.
"It's so good," she crooned, "so good."
She moved her hips in conjunction with his, in an ever-widening circle, in a mounting, frenzied rhythm. He was vaguely aware that her nails were tearing the flesh on his back, but he couldn't have cared less. Her whole body, from her frantic, slithering tongue to her heels digging into his ankles, from her arched back to the tips of her rigid nipples against his chest, from her wriggling cunt to her tightly flexed ass, seemed to be ablaze with her awakening.
"Now," she demanded, "now!"
There was an electrifying orgasm, a hot, melting wave that coursed through both their bodies simultaneously, and for one long moment they poised in mid-air, and then he sagged against her.
For the next few minutes her hips continued to churn; then gradually they subsided and became still.
She clung to him fiercely. "I never dreamed," she whispered, "that it could be anything like that. Never in my wildest imaginings did I have the slightest idea. If only I knew what I've been missing."
"Didn't it hurt?" he asked her.
"Well, if it did, I didn't feel it. I suppose it must have for an instant, but I was so crazy with passion ... Your poor back, Randy. You must think I'm awful."
He squeezed a buttock in response. "We'll call them battle scars. I had no idea you'd be such a wildcat . You really have a knack for lovemaking, Gina. And you learn fast."
"That's because I have such a good teacher. Can we go on to the next lesson now?"
He felt another immediate, sharp stab of desire at her suggestion. Gina was the kind of girl who could always get the maximum effort out of a man, he reflected. He proceeded to make love to her again, but without the long, tortuous prelude he'd gone through before. As part of her education, though, he decided to give her a new sensation. He slid down between her hot thighs and she clutched his hair with her fingers, sucking in her breath in long, shuddering gasps at the indescribably delicious sensation, moaning with joy as he licked her pussy.
The second time was even more intense than the first. With a rapidly mounting tempo, their locked bodies moved in unison, her legs raised high over his shoulders, her cries of delight a kind of chant to his ears, her soft, enveloping cunt hot and moist and throbbing.
"So beautiful," she crooned, "so wild and beautiful."
Tirelessly, he set the pace, timing himself so they'd come together, determined not to abandon himself to his own pleasure. Only when she took over the pace with a frantic increase in rhythm did he release his control. Her legs locked behind his back, her hot tongue met his in a frenzied search, her cunt ground urgently against his cock and again in mid-air that seemingly endless pause for one electrifying, timeless moment while he spurted his cream deep into her clutching vagina.
He lay on her, inwardly chuckling, now knowing her unquenched desire. It was warm and highly pleasant having her provocative body as a cushion.
Gina unwound her tightly clamping legs after a few minutes and slithered them in underneath his. He felt her soft belly squirm against his, then the live pressure of her well-covered hips.
He rolled off her at last. His penis, hot and tender, had half risen again. He took her hand and placed it on the hot length of flesh.
Gina looked down at the organ which had begun to expand in her hand. She held it gently, as if it were a hand, wondering at its heat.
"Caress it," Randy said, pressing his thighs one against the other.
Gina obeyed, drawing her fingers gently, as if afraid, over the smooth, white skin.
Randy felt an explosion inside him. He flexed his hips against the side of her thigh. He crossed one ankle behind the other, turning his body into an arch. His heart began to gather speed in its pounding once again.
Gina gained courage as Randy became more and more impassioned. She allowed her fingers to slip away. The very feel of his genitals excited her, too, making her wet and unbearably warm between her legs so that she closed her thighs and grazed them together achingly.
Randy began to undulate his legs, breathing noisily through his nostrils. He leaned his head over onto her, laying it against her breasts, brushing his smooth cheek from one to the other, sucking a nipple, descending the hill into the valley, climbing the opposite hill and kissing the other nipple which shot out like a flag on a mountain top.
Gina felt, overcome with a desire to kiss his whole body in return. She swayed over him and laid her head on his chest as he relaxed backward before her gentle pressure. She kissed his hairy chest, loving his breasts with her mouth. He placed his hand on her soft head and pushed her gently downward. She let herself be pushed, let her head move down him, her lips moistly blazing a trail down his hairy flesh as they passed.
He caught her head by her hair, roughly, so that she gasped, and pushed her face down the last few inches.
She got the idea immediately, and he felt her lips tantalizingly light and feathery, running up the stem of flesh. He cringed within himself, gritting his teeth.
He held his breath for what seemed an asphyxiating length of time, then let it out in a long, gasping sigh as the mouth closed softly.
From what seemed a great height above him on the bed, he could hear her lips gently sucking. There seemed to be no correspondence between the noise which inflamed his ears and the actual pulling of her lips.
He had released her head but now, wanting to plunge further into the tightness of sensation, he reached out again and forced her head down. He felt his solid heat shoot forward, grazing her teeth. She gave a choking, muffled cry. He undulated his hips with the fury of a whirlpool and heaved them up at her face. He looked down at her slim, flushed face and the distended lips. The sight added to the sensation, and his eyes narrowed, his lips broke apart, his hand tightened on her soft, fine hair.
His whole loins were on fire. His hand moved hard and violently over her head pulling on those raven plaits, pressing the head with convulsive fingers.
He watched her cheeks hollowing her eyes closing and opening in her passion. Her slim, sleek back, white and without a blemish, was presented to him, blooming abruptly into the luxury of her hips and soft, full buttocks that invited caresses, invited the pressure of another body.
He watched her buttocks. They slithered whitely one against the other an outward sign of her inner excitement. They were smooth, lovely convexes of flesh. He longed to reach out and touch them, but he couldn't reach. He longed to press against them, to feel their convexity in all its voluptuousness crushed against the elastic roundness of his own belly and loins.
He pulled her head up with a sharp, sucking noise. She looked up at him with her deep-blue eyes half-open. He was tingling, the feel of her mouth still needing to be replaced.
He slithered down behind her, lying along her back, and put his arms around her to fondle her breasts with their erect nipples. The coolness of her buttocks exaggerated the heat of his penis against them. He pressed against the soft mounds of flesh, biting his lips.
With his hand he reached down and explored her thighs from behind, pushing his fingers between them until he found the long portals of ultra-smooth moisture. He began to caress her once again.
Immediately she began to wriggle in abandonment, moaning in a manner which made him impatient to plunge in and give her something to moan about.
He eased her over onto her face. She went wherever his hands guided, seeming quite lost to anything but his touch.
Quivering with anticipation, he lowered himself onto the provocative pertness of her buttocks, feeling them warm and soft and giving under his loins. His penis waved between her open thighs. Now he wouldn't wait. Every moment was torment.
Swaying back, he pulled her up onto her knees in front of him. Her bottom reared up at him, her face pressed into the bed within the framework of her arms.
There, like a great cleft moon, her behind was juicily presented to him. Her thighs were spread, the lines between her knees forming the base of a triangle, the point at her thigh juncture where he could see the apex. She was kneeling before him like a sacrificial offering. She was his to do with as he wished.
He placed himself behind her. He eased her open with his thumbs and ranged against the juicy slit. Then, with an all-pervading tremor of sublime pleasure, he surged into her.
Gina, her lips working, her mind confused with desire, knelt before him, her ass up high in the air. She felt his thumbs on her vagina, and she squirmed against them, contracting in concentrated passion. She moaned again, and the moan became a cry as, with the force and relentlessness of a battering ram, his rod tore into her and raced up into the depths of her belly. This time it was easier and less painful, but these thoughts didn't occur to her at the time. She was aware only of the slight pain, the nakedness of her ass, of her whole body, and her desire to submit, to be used, raped, hurt even, and to enjoy, to wallow in her enjoyment, which transcended any other type of pleasure she'd ever experienced.
She heard him grunting behind the weight of his hips which pressed at her so hard that they edged her forward on the bed and made her push her hands to keep her position.
He bludgeoned in and drew back, then thrust right up again.
On her waist his hands were cruel in the way they gripped her with such force. She felt his knees edging her legs apart. He seemed to want to imbed himself deeper and deeper in her. It made her loins itch and flame. She was aware of the contraction and expansion inside her, the sensation that a regular wave of movement was getting faster and faster, deeper and deeper.
Randy gritted his teeth as the tight sheath of flesh slipped back along his stabbing dagger.
He thrust in and out, up and down with a regular, strong flowing motion. His stomach was fluttering, his thighs twitching. At the extremity of his inward stroke he gave an extra flick, feeling her buttocks give and spread under the weight of his loins, hearing her gasps and gulps. Every few strokes he would thrust in and leave it there, tightly held in her body while he squirmed his hips against her cool buttocks, reveling in the brushing contact of their separate flesh.
He moved his hands from her waist, which it seemed he could almost span, tracing them over her back and its lean, firm flesh. He pressed her into the bed, saw her shoulders shake and quiver, her bottom sway and rotate against him.
He felt like a trail of gunpowder rushing toward its annihilation in explosion. Feverishly he ran his hands under her belly, clasping her to him as he spread her thighs still wider with his knees. He clasped the flesh of her belly in small, elastic handfuls, and lowered his own belly onto her ass, holding her in a close embrace as he smashed his loins against her, splitting her with his ever-growing intrusion.
Subject under him, a willing slave, Gina felt him filling her whole body. It seemed to surge right in up to her breasts with every thrust. And every thrust brought an involuntary explosion of breath from between her lips. Her hot face twisted in torment against the bed. Her hips waved and squirmed beyond her control.
Gina heard her own groans as if they came from some other throat. She felt as if she were being dredged, all her entrails being dragged down into that channel. With a confusion of wild words in her head, many of them unspoken exhortations for him to destroy her, she felt a great warmth spreading inside. It was a feeling she hadn't had before, an inexorable advance which shook her body and made her feel that the end of life was near. She tried to say something to Randy, but when she opened her mouth, only muffled exclamations came out.
And the inexorable sensation went on and on and her hips waved as if, they had their own delirium and her belly was afire with a burning passion. It was lovely and terrible, unbearable and all-desirable, unending yet moving quickly to an end. She groaned and cried out. Her whole body was moving downward to pass out between her legs. She gasped and weaved her hips and pressed back against his belly, wanting him, loving him, loving the sensation, frightened of it, and now it was there, everywhere, a great bubble which was bursting, bursting and ...
"Oh my God! Oh-oh-ooh!"
A great flowing through, an escape and a slow ebbing, ebbing slowly, slowly, back to normal, which was not normal because it left a wash and a new feeling.
Randy was inflamed with the sight and sound of her culmination. Her tortured face pressing into the bed, remained in his mind even, when it had calmed and the movement of her lips was nothing more than a muted recognition of the force of his continued penetration.
He pistoned into her. His mouth opening and closing With furious wheezings. When he gripped her, he crushed her tender flesh sadistically, reflecting the force of his grip with a renewed vigor of his thrust. With every forward motion which tightened his buttocks into hard, male globes he crashed against her behind, pushing her forward, pulling a little cry from her.
Within him he felt the curling up of the spring which would suddenly snap straight again at the point where it could curl no more. He wanted to push further and further into her body to some impossible point.
His grip on her waist grew. He fixed his gaze on her ass. He watched the focal point of those revolving buttocks. He moved his finger, prodded her, felt the cringing reaction. The spring was winding to breaking point. He felt he couldn't stand any more. He couldn't get any further into her. It must come to an end now. He heard the murmurs of her breath. He gasped, gritted, thrust forward in a long, hard stroke, then convulsed in a series of quick, trembling jerks.
Gina wriggled a little, at last, from under his dead weight which had become too much for her. Her back ached a little where it had been curved in a concave while Randy satisfied his passion on her.
Feeling her movement, Randy rolled off her and flopped down on his back. He watched her nestle down beside him and wondered how long he should stay.
She whispered in his ear, "I don't think I could stand another lesson tonight. I'm already spoiled. Are you this good to all your women?"
"Not really," he admitted. "I guess you bring out the best in me."
"You've had a lot of experience, haven't you?"
"A fair share," he admitted.
"Am I ... am I as good as they are?"
"You're better. Nature has blessed you with a remarkably beautiful body for the purpose. Your enthusiasm is pretty inspiring, too."
"That's because I really put my heart into it."
She moved her soft belly in a provocative circle against his, and to his great surprise he felt still another wave of desire. He got a firm grip on himself. Too much ecstasy might be bad for her; she might become obsessed with it to the exclusion of everything else, especially since this was her first experience. After all, she was still his secretary, and they would have to spend a few hours almost every day together in a strictly professional relationship.
And, too, they had the whole weekend before them. There was no great hurry. Besides, it might be wise to conserve his energy. There was no telling what might happen at Sherry Swanson's house in Derring during the next few nights.
CHAPTER THREE
When he woke up the next morning in Gina's bed, Randy had a sudden, startled moment before he remembered that the soft, warm body pressed against his belonged to his secretary. For a second he looked down at Gina's sleeping face. She wore a blissful smile, and fulfillment had given her skin a fresh new glow. Her breasts lay exposed above the sheet. His eyes took in their rounded firmness, the satiny texture of their skin. The man who married her would find waking up beside her every morning a very pleasant way to start each day. She stirred sleepily and held out her arms, but he got out of bed before he let himself be carried away again. A glance at his watch on the bedside table showed him it was already ten o'clock.
"We've got to get going, Gina," he said, shaking her gently.
She opened her eyes, and smiled. "Come here," she commanded softly.
For an instant he wavered, then remembered Sherry Swanson's fearful eyes.
"No," he said firmly. "Let's shower and get out of here as quickly as possible. We've already overslept."
She sat up with a sigh. "All right, Doctor. Business first, as usual."
Thirty minutes later, having breakfasted at a nearby restaurant, they were back on the highway. The day was a typical aftermath of a storm, bright and sunny with cloudless blue skies. He'd tried to call Sherry again at the restaurant, but the lines were still out. He kept the speedometer at the local speed limit, driving in thoughtful silence. Gina sensed his brooding mood, and carefully avoided interrupting his train of thought. She wore a light summer dress that enhanced her high pointed breasts and narrow waist. From time to time, she glanced at Randy, eyes still smoldering with the vivid memory of the night before. He drove with his eyes riveted to the highway, a taut, worried expression on his clean-cut features.
'If anything has happened to Sherry Swanson,' he rebuked himself, 'it's my fault. I should have gone on driving in the rain last night. I could have made it to her house, even if it took me three or four hours.'
Not that he regretted the night spent with Gina. Quite the opposite, in fact. Beneath the superficial worries that nagged at his mind, the memory of last night was as fresh and vivid in his mind as it was in Gina's. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her long, shapely legs and almost feel them twining around him again. Once or twice he had to fight the powerful urge to abandon his trip to Sherry's house and just go back to the motel and spend the entire weekend with Gina. But his sense of duty was stronger than any wild impulse.
There would be other weekends, he told himself. And other nights.
A few minutes later, he turned onto the side road indicated on the map Sherry had given him. The going was slow and rugged, the car almost bogging down completely a few times in the thick, sluggish mud. At the end of a mile, the road curved sharply upward, and he saw the house at the top of the hill. The sight nearly made him stop the car.
It was an old, decrepit mansion, dilapidated with age and the batterings of countless storms. There was a lurking, menacing air about its high peaks and gables, even in the bright light of the day, and for a second he had the uneasy impression that the house was actually staring back at him with malice.
"Gloomy old place, isn't it?" Gina said.
"It's not exactly reeking with good cheer."
He swung the car onto the gravel road leading to the front entrance, cruising slowly so he could study the house. Wide columns, graceful once but cracked and dirty now, fronted the large old house. Any sentiment for the house Sherry Swanson's mother had felt had not spurred her into giving it the slightest attention. The whole place exuded an air of neglect and decay.
Randy parked the car at the front entrance, and he and Gina got out, surveying the grounds for a moment. A tangle of grass and weeds covered everything, even a classic-looking statue, a reproduction of a Greek runner, Randy judged, in the front yard. They went up to the massive old door, and he knocked loudly. A minute later, the door creaked slowly open.
A surly-faced man in his thirties stood facing them. His craggy features were etched in a permanent scowl, disapproving everything and everyone. His black hair was a tangle of shaggy neglect, like the rest of the place.
"What do you want?"
"Are you Groton?" Randy asked.
"Maybe." He spat the word out. "What of it?"
"Sherry Swanson invited us here for the weekend. Is she home?"
Groton transferred his hostile gaze from Randy to Gina. His eyes raked over her body with naked, lustful hunger. Gina instinctively clutched Randy's arm. A smile distorted Groton's face.
"What's the matter, lady? Afraid I'll bite? If I do, you might like it, believe me." He reared back his head and laughed.
"If you do," Randy said in a grim voice, "you won't have any teeth left for another bite. I asked, is Sherry Swanson home?"
Groton ran his eyes defiantly over Randy's powerful frame, comparing it to his own rugged physique. When he finished, his eyes lost their truculent look.
"Yeah, she's home," he said, stepping back and opening the door to let them in. "In bed, upstairs. Second door to your left."
"Is she sick?"
"Yeah, she's sick," Groton said with narrowed eyes. "Sick with fear. like other people will be, if they stick their noses in where they aren't wanted."
"Is that a threat?" Randy asked in a deceptively soft voice.
"There's things here you wouldn't understand, mister. Things no human is capable of understanding. Things that make your hair stand on end, and turn your bones to jelly. Things," he whispered in a hoarse voice, "that'll drive you into a lunatic asylum. Remember that before it's too late."
Groton turned on his heel and shuffled away, across the wide expanse of tiled floor and through a door.
"Happy sort of bastard, isn't he?" Gina said. "He gives me the creeps."
"That little speech he made was supposed to make us turn tail and run," Randy said. "Pretty transparent, too."
Gina followed him up the curved staircase, There were old oil paintings on the walls and miniature statues almost everywhere. The ceiling was ornately designed, with writhing nudes trying to escape the eager clutches of naked, ferocious-looking men. In the center of the ceiling hung a massive, elegant chandelier. Randy wondered if the one that had fallen near Sherry had been the same size.. The chain that held it looked sturdy enough, but if it ever fell, it would crush anything that happened to be unlucky enough to be underneath it.
At the top of the stairway, they turned left down a gloomy hall furnished with more oils, portraits mostly. In the dim light, Randy saw that some of them resembled Sherry vaguely. He stopped at the second door and knocked. After a minute he knocked again, more loudly. A minute later, the door opened a crack.
'Who is it?" a shaky, feminine voice whispered.
"Randy Garten, Is that you, Sherry?"
"Thank God, it's you," sighed Sherry, opening the door. "I thought you weren't coming."
She hugged the robe tighter around her petite body. Her hair hung in disarray around her face, which was pale and taut, and her large, apprehensive eyes showed traces of a sleepless night. When Sherry saw Gina, her face grew puzzled.
"You didn't say you were bringing her. You said a colleague."
"There weren't any available for the weekend he said, "so I brought Gina. She's a keen observer and familiar with my researches. You don't have any objections, do you?"
Sherry self-consciously ran a hand through her uncombed, blonde hair, suddenly aware how she must look in comparison to Gina, who was smoothly groomed.
"No, no objections whatever," she said, but without much conviction. "Come inside."
They entered the room, and Sherry locked the door behind. them, peering down the hallway first. Her behavior made Randy glance significantly at Gina.
"Afraid of something happening in the daytime, too?"
The small blonde shivered. "It's getting to the point where I'm afraid to leave my room, period." She went over to the old four-poster bed and sat on it Indian fashion, her legs curled beneath her. She lit a cigarette with slightly shaky fingers before she spoke.
"Last night was the worst. There was the horrible crying and laughing again. And it whatever it was tried to break into my room. It hammered on my door until I thought I'd go mad." Tears glistened in her eyes. "I don't know if I can stand another night here. I'm afraid I'll lose my mind."
"Where was Groton at the time?" Randy asked.
"I don't know. In his room asleep, I suppose."
"And your sister?"
"Ava was locked in her room. She told me this morning it woke her, too."
"Did it try to get in her room, too?"
"Yes. She did the same thing I did. Snuggled under the covers and held her breath until it went away."
"Where is Ava now?"
"I heard her car leave about an hour ago. She's probably in the village. picking up groceries. Nothing scares her for very long."
Gina interrupted with a question. "This caretaker, Groton. How well do you know him? His background, I mean."
"I don't know him at all, really. Mother hired him two years ago. I don't know anything at all about his background. Just a drifter, I suppose. He's not very bright, or very friendly, either."
"We've already found that out," Randy said. "I don't trust the man. If my instincts are correct, he's as shifty as a sewer rat. He tried to throw a scare into us a few minutes ago."
Sherry took a thoughtful puff on her cigarette. "Well, whatever he told you, take my word for it that he wasn't exaggerating. How do you go about your work, Doctor? I mean, when do you get started? The sooner you get to the bottom of this, the sooner I can get this tomb sold and get out of here."
"I can't do anything until the phenomena start, of course, but I'd like to take a look around the place first. Are you sure there's no history of poltergeists inn thee house?"
Sherry's delicately shaped forehead crinkled with a frown.
"Poltergeists?"
"Noisy ghosts," Randy explained. "Mischievous little devils."
"Oh. No, never to my knowledge."
Randy tapped his teeth thoughtfully with a finger. "Funny it all started just when you came back to sell the house."
"When Mother died, you mean," corrected Sherry.
"Yes. Could you show us to our rooms now, Sherry? If possible, I'd like to have Gina's room next to mine, too."
Sherry got off the bed raising an eyebrow at the statement. "Combining business with pleasure?"
Gina's face flushed. "Would it bother you?" she said in an acid voice.
Sherry's lips curved in a catty smile. "Not really. It looks like there's enough of him to go around for everyone, doesn't it?"
Randy cut in quickly. "I'm concerned with Gina's safety as well as yours. That's why I'd like to have her near me."
"Well," said Sherry, brushing past him on the way to the door, "I only hope I get a fair share of that concern."
Nostrils flaring, Gina followed Randy and Sherry out into the hallway. Sherry opened the door of the room next to hers.
"This will be your room, Doctor. If you don't mind my familiarity. As you can see, it has an adjoining door to my room. Convenient, isn't it?"
Randy nodded absently, studying the room. It was furnished about the same as Sherry's, with an old, four-poster bed and hideously colored wallpaper.
"As for your room," Sherry said to Gina, "the best I can do is the one across the hall from Randy's. Not so great a distance if you really need him, is it? Depending on what you need him for, of course."
"I can control my needs pretty well," said Gina. "Yours are more desperate, obviously."
The two exchanged sharp glances, and Gina followed Sherry across the hall to her room.
Randy was unpacking the light suitcase he'd brought when Sherry stepped back in his room and shut the door behind her.
"I don't think your secretary is too fond of me," she said. "But I never did strike it off well with women. I've never had any trouble with men, though. As a psychologist, you ought to be able to tell me why."
Randy smiled. "A sense of competition, probably. I wouldn't let it worry you."
"It doesn't," she said, coming to within a few inches of him. "The bathroom is that door over there. We share it."
"Fine," he said. pausing in his unpacking to stare down at her. There was a slight flush on her cheeks now, replacing her earlier pallor. Only the hungry, naked expression of lust in her eyes betrayed her innocent smile. Randy found himself wondering if what Gina had said about her was true. He was suddenly aware that she'd stopped hugging her robe to her body, and it hung carelessly open. With a shock, he saw that she was naked underneath. He saw the inner surface of her small, firm breasts, silky smooth, and the beckoning softness of her pale, golden belly, disappearing into the shadows of her thighs where the cunt mound swelled.
He swallowed hard. "Your robe slipped open, Sherry."
She looked down with mock surprise. "Why, so it has. How careless of me." She closed it again. "I suppose I'd better shower and get dressed for lunch. Don't expect me to compete with your secretary where grooming is concerned, though. She's quite a woman. You must have your hands full."
"We're here on business," Randy said in a stiff, cold voice.
"But looks aren't everything," she said, ignoring his remark. "A girl with experience real experience, that is can frequently put a gorgeous chick like her to shame. There are tricks and tricks," she murmured, running her pointed, pink tongue across her lips.
He turned away from her and resumed unpacking. "I won't dispute that statement, but as I said, this is a professional visit. Please keep that in mind, Sherry."
She went over to the door and turned with her hand on the knob.
"Whatever you say, Doctor. I never fight nature, myself. Lunch is at one. See you in the dining room."
When the door closed, he straightened up and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. In spite of himself, she'd managed to arouse him easily with that brief, tempting display of her body. There was no doubt in his mind that Sherry sincerely liked him and meant to do something about it, but he was determined to limit his activities to Gina. If, he corrected himself, he had any time left for that sort of thing.
But try as he might, he still couldn't get over his curiosity about Sherry's petite body. Was she small all over, he wondered, or was there some glaring irregularity in that promising petiteness?
Gina, for example, was a tall, statuesque woman, but she had a surprisingly small cunt.
He had to admit to himself that the trouble with being a scholar was that he simply had to gratify is curiosity. He went over to the bathroom door and listened. The shower was on. He tried the knob. it was unlocked. He started to open the bathroom door when a loud knock at his bedroom door made him jump.
He went over to the door and opened it. Gina stood there, her lovely face as pale as chalk. She held out a paper bag gingerly at the end of her thumb and forefinger.
"What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong, Gina?"
"I was unpacking my things, putting them in a dresser drawer, when this ... this thing crawled out of it. I killed it with a shoe. Take it, please. I can't stand them."
Randy took the paper bag and opened it, peering inside. He recognized it at once. It was a large, hairy tarantula.
CHAPTER FOUR
For a minute Randy studied the specimen with scientific interest. It was larger than most of its species, its hairy back at least three inches across.
"Funny place for a spider, isn't it?" Gina said. "Do you suppose he crawled up the side of the house from the grounds, and into the window?"
"Hardly," said Randy, closing the bag. "Tarantulas aren't native to this area, or anywhere near her, for that matter. They're found in the West and Southwest."
Gina's eyes grew wide. "Someone put him there, you mean?"
Randy nodded grimly. "And it wasn't a poltergeist, either. I think I'll have a little talk with Groton." He went over to the wastebasket and tossed in the bag.
"I'm coming with you," Gina said in a determined voice. "I don't mind coping with the spiritual world, but this is out of my line."
"Come on. We'll take a tour of the house while we're at it."
They went down the gloomy hallway, their footsteps echoing throughout the house. Gina followed Randy down the staircase. He opened the first door he came to, and stepped into a large, high-ceilinged room whose walls were lined with hundreds of books. Everything had a thick layer of dust.
"Library," he said. He looked up. A chain with a tom link hung from the center of the ceiling, where the chandelier once hung.
Gina wrinkled her nose. "Don't they ever air out the place?" She went over to the windows. The grime on the panes filtered the sunlight, so that it was nothing more than a murky haze. She gritted her teeth with the effort of trying to open one of the windows, but it was stuck fast.
Randy peered with interest at some of the dusty old books on the shelves. His eyes came to rest on one volume, and he took it off the shelf.
"Sorcery and Witchcraft," he told Gina. "Listen to this." He squinted at-the open page, cracked and yellowed with age. "Incantation for summoning the henchmen of Satan. When this incantation is repeated three times aloud'. the faithful henchmen of Satan will rise with ferocity and howls, and make themselves known throughout the dwelling of the caller." He cleared his throat. "Kali. Kali."
"Don't!" a sharp voice commanded from the open doorway. Randy and Gina turned to see a thin, black-haired young woman striding angrily into the room. She snatched the old volume from Randy's hands.
"Do you realize what you've almost done, you fool?" she hissed.
"You're Sherry's sister, I gather," Randy said.
Her sharp features were etched in anger. Her black hair was cut close to her head. in a boyish style. She was very thin, with intense black eyes and small breasts and hips. There was something almost snake-like about her, Randy thought.
"Yes," she snapped. "Ava. And I presume you're Doctor Garten, so-called authority on psychic phenomena." She turned to Gina, appraising her coldly. "Who's this?"
"My secretary and assistant, Gina. For your information," Randy said as he sat on the edge of a desk, "there's no harm in repeating that incantation. I've done it with hundreds of other chants, and nothing has ever happened. They're nothing more than superstition, the wishful thinking of child-like minds dabbling in black magic."
Her lips curved in scorn. "For a professor you've got a lot to learn. Sherry's told you what's been happening around here, hasn't she?"
Randy nodded. "There's always a scientific explanation, if you look long, enough for it. That's why I'm here."
Ava shot Gina a sharp glance. "I hope that's the only reason. There are plenty of motels around if you just want to fuck."
Gina's eyes flashed dangerously. "You and your sister seem to have one-track minds. Runs in the family, I suppose."
"Foster sister," corrected Ava. "I'm not really a blood relation of Sherry's. As for having a one-track mind, that dress you're wearing is hardly what I would call suitable for scientific investigation." She turned her back on them and returned the book to its place on the shelf. "I'm going to fix lunch now. It'll be ready in twenty minutes or so. You two go ahead and amuse yourselves until then. But don't fool with any more books on witchcraft."
She whirled and strode out of the room, slamming the door.
"Well, of all the rude, malicious creatures I've ever met, that one takes the cake," Gina said.
"She's very high-strung," Randy pointed out. "Neurotic, I'd say. She's definitely not out to win any popularity contests."
"She may not be related to Sherry by blood, but they certainly have one thing in common."
Randy raised his eyebrows. "What's that?"
"As I said to her, a one-track mind. At least Sherry makes it obvious enough. This one is a cold fish, but that doesn't stop her from making overt references to it."
Randy laughed. "They're both at that age. I'm sure Sherry isn't serious. She's merely playing a childish game of flirtation."
Gina made a scornful sound. "That's what you think. She's out to make you. And if I know anything about women, she's the kind that always gets her way. Do you find her attractive?"
"She's cute enough," Randy acknowledged, his mind recalling the soft promise of her half-hidden body.
Gina came over to him, pressing her cunt against his knee as he sat on the desk. "As attractive as me?" she murmured, making a slight, undulating motion. Randy's eyes went to the V-neck of Gina's dress, where the creamy white cleft of her breasts was exposed. A quick hunger raced through his blood, making his heart pound against his ribs.
He gripped her ass with his hands, feeling their firm, muscular solidity through the flimsy material of her dress, squeezing them slightly so that Gina shivered and closed her eyes. Her hand slid inside his shirt, traveling over the hardness of his stomach, downward, softly probing, her fingers searching for his cock with increasing urgency.
Without warning, the door flew open.
Gina stepped back with a sharp cry.
Groton stood there, his perpetual scowl breaking into a grin when he saw them.
"It's a little early in the day for that, ain't it?"
"Don't you ever knock?" Randy said coldly.
Groton stepped into the room, his grin revealing yellow teeth. "Nope. More fun this way. Learn more. Can't say I blame you for not waiting, though. If I had a juicy cunt like that-"
"That's enough," Randy snapped. He got off the desk and walked over to Groton, his powerful muscles flexed.
"Would you happen to know how a tarantula got into a guest room upstairs?"
Groton avoided his gaze. "Everybody knows there ain't no tarantulas in this part of the country."
"Look at me when you speak," Randy ordered. Groton's eyes slowly lifted to meet his, hostility and fear mingling in them. He scratched his matted hair with a grimy finger.
"Then how do you suppose one got in the house?"
"Hell ' I don't know," Groton muttered. "Maybe he hitchhiked from Mexico."
"Or maybe," interrupted Gina, "someone had him as a pet and decided to use him as a welcoming committee by putting him in my dresser drawer."
"I don't know anything about it," Groton said defiantly. "I'm just a crummy caretaker here. I just do my work and mind my own business." He took a cautious step backward. "like other people ought to. City people with imagine degrees coming up here, sticking their nose in where they got no right, stirring up trouble-"
Randy suddenly seized the man by the lapels of his shirt. Groton cringed, his mouth quivering.
"Don't know nothing about any tarantula, I swear it," he stammered.
"You're lying, Groton. It's as clear as the grime on your face. If I ever catch you pulling anything sneaky..."
He let the sentence go unfinished and released him. The caretaker quickly moved to the safety of the doorway.
"Got no business here," he panted. "Fancy diplomas and loose women-"
Randy took a sudden step forward and Groton bolted away.
Gina burst out laughing. "He's like a naughty child caught stealing apples from an orchard."
"He's reeking with guilt, if that's what you mean," said Randy. "I'm positive he put that spider up there. It couldn't have been Sherry or Ava. Women are usually frightened to death of spiders. "
A frown creased Gina's lovely face. "Most women, yes. But I wouldn't bet on it where Ava is concerned. She's a tough little cookie, hard as nails ... "
"Harder, actually," Ava's sharp voice said from the doorway. They turned around. Gina's face went pink.
"We can't all be soft as jelly, can we?" Ava said with a twisted smile. "Lunch is ready. Come with me."
Randy and Gina followed Ava into the dining room and seated themselves at the long table. Lunch was already on the table, consisting of soup, salad and sandwiches. Sherry appeared a minute later, dressed in a tight sweater and miniskirt, her face skillfully made up and her blonde hair neatly groomed.
Surrounded by three young women, Randy found himself comparing them.
His eyes went to Gina first. Tall, with classic features and flawless, creamy skin, gifted with a voluptuous, perfectly proportioned body, she was easily the most beautiful of the three.
Next he appraised Sherry. Small-boned, with delicate features and rosy skin radiant from her recent shower, she was almost the complete opposite of Gina. And yet her small, compact body was far from being unattractive. Her petite, pointed breasts and full, round hips could excite him easily, as they'd already done when he'd watched her walk in that sinuous, suggestive manner of hers. Everything about her promised tightness and smooth sleekness. There was no doubt that Sherry would be an intense, dynamic fuck. Seeing Randy staring at her, she responded by curving her sensuous lips in a smile.
If Gina was the most attractive of the three, then without a doubt Sherry was the most exciting, on the surface at least. Gina had already proved that her quiet beauty was anything but quiet during a sexual bout.
Sherry's appeal, on the other hand, was strictly on the surface so far. She'd proved nothing to him yet, although he knew she was more than willing.
'They're quite a contrast,' Randy thought, 'tall, dark-haired Gina and small, blonde Sherry. Which of them would be the more satisfying lover?'
His scientific curiosity, once aroused, had to be appeased. Sooner or later he would have to know.
Last of all, his eyes went to Ava. On the surface, she was the least desirable of the three. Thin, with closely cut, jet-black hair and sharp, angular features, she was anything but pretty. like Sherry, she was small-boned, but without the blonde's softness and grace. She looked as hard as granite, inside and out, and yet there was something about her, an air perhaps, that suggested she was more than equal to any man in bed. She would suck a man dry, and still demand more.
No doubt about it, Randy decided, beneath that cool, composed air of Ava's ... she was a wildcat. While he studied her, she returned his appraisal with a calculating gaze of her own as though he were an interesting sirloin rump on sale in a meat market.
Ava was a tough cookie, all right, thought Randy, and woe to the man who underestimated her.
Ava suddenly spoke up.
"Has Sherry told you everything that's happened in the last week?"
Randy nodded. "Everything that's happened to her. Do you have anything to add to that?"
"Nothing. Whatever it is, it wants Sherry, not me or Groton."
"I don't trust Groton," Randy said. "He's rude, and he lies. Why don't you get rid of him? He'll be easy enough to replace."
Ava's jaw tightened. "Groton stays. He does his job well, and that's all that matters."
"I'm beginning to wonder if that's all he does," Sherry said in a sly manner. "In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if he doesn't perform certain services above and beyond the call of duty."
Ava's eyes flashed. "Such as?"
Sherry laughed. "We're all adults here, Ava. There's no sense in being coy about it. I can't say much for your taste, but after all, Groton is the only man around. Or was until today."
Ava stood up abruptly. "You'll regret that, dear sister," she hissed, and strode out of the dining room.
"Touchy, isn't she?" Sherry said, dabbing daintily at her lips with a napkin.
"The remark was in bad taste," said Gina.
"I didn't know you were a connoisseur of taste," Sherry retorted, the hostility in her eyes betraying her smile. "But then maybe you are, seeing who your employer is," she added with a hungry glance at Randy.
He quickly changed the subject before an argument began.
"About your mother's will," he said to Sherry. "Didn't she leave anything to Ava?"
"No. She left everything to me, a few stocks and bonds and the house. Mother was never very fond of Ava. It was Dad's' idea to adopt her. As you might have gathered, Ava isn't very lovable. I haven't told her yet, but I'm going to give her half of what I get for selling the house."
"Why don't you tell her now?" asked Gina.
"Let's just say I want to surprise her."
Sherry stood up, stretching and yawning. "Excuse me, but I didn't get any sleep last night. I think I'll go to my room and take a nap." She stared significantly at Randy. "I'll be on my bed if anyone wants me for anything."
She left the dining room, her lush little ass straining the seams of her tight skirt as her buttocks rubbed against each other.
"The little bitch," Gina murmured, staring after her.
"Do you have any sisters, Gina?" Randy asked.
"No. Why?"
"Well, if you did, I think you'd understand what's going on between them. There's always a sense of competition between sisters. It's quite normal and healthy, let me assure you."
"Oh, Sherry's healthy enough. Anyone can see that, especially from the way she dresses," replied Gina.
"I think you're being unfair toward Sherry."
Gina stood up, her face drawn with anger. "And I think you're beginning to fall for her very obvious sexual appeal. Go right ahead and enjoy yourself, Doctor. Don't let me stand in the way of scientific research."
She turned on her heel and walked rapidly out of the room, her heels clicking angrily on the tile floor.
Randy sat at the table alone for a minute, thoughtfully. He recalled vividly Gina's proud breasts and her velvety smooth legs, and the way they'd gripped him so fiercely the night before. He remembered her hot tongue probing his mouth. Then he dwelled on the soft, shadowy curve of Sherry's stomach, seen for just a moment earlier that day. He felt a spark of desire flicker inside him.
He glanced in the direction of Sherry's bedroom upstairs. Then his glance wandered to Gina's room across the hall.
He stood up, indecision clawing his mind, experience struggling with curiosity.
Tall, long-legged Gina or petite, supple Sherry?
He took a deep breath and came to a sudden decision.
Neither.
He'd come to the house for a scientific purpose, and that was precisely what he was going to do. with his time.
He started in the direction of the library when he heard low, muted voices coming from another room. He went over to the door and listened.
"Go ahead," Ava's hard voice was saying, "I don't care."
"But someone might come in the kitchen." it was Groton's voice.
Randy pushed the door open slightly and saw Ava spread out on the kitchen table. Groton was leaning over her. Randy smiled and gently let the door swing closed. Ava was going to get fucked by the handyman for sure and he didn't care to observe their obscene coupling, not even in the interests of science. It was one case history he could do without.
"Maybe you'd like to be kissed, huh?"
Groton lifted her leg, causing her to rock backward against the table. His slimy lips pressed the outer slope of her thigh, and his tongue licked the satiny flesh.
Ava gasped as the sexual sensation scorched her. Groton suddenly moved his hand which was underneath her thigh, and she received a new jolt-stronger than ever-as he cupped her pussy through the thin, snug fabric of her panties. Her genitals throbbed. Moisture broke from the glands of her vulva.
Suddenly he was all over her, smearing his mouth onto hers as he held her tight, his hand still jammed between her hot thighs.
Ava accepted the lascivious penetration of his tongue between her lips. He licked deeply into her mouth. She quivered and her body throbbed in response to the intimate kiss.
Groton was wickedly kneading the soft, moistening lips of her pussy, though she had her thighs clamped tightly against his hand.
"Now you're going to get it," he said as his lips left her gasping mouth. "Right here and now, just like you want it."
He pulled his hand from between her legs and leaned back, then pulled her blouse up and undid her bra. Ava felt her breasts expand as the bra
slowly loosened.
Looking down, Ava stared at the creamy, tapering swells of her breasts, the nipples barely concealed by the edges of the soft bra. She watched his middle finger lay aside first one edge of the bra, then the other, exposing both nipples. The little rosy studs thrust rigidly forward, tilted slightly up due to the concave curve of her breasts.
Groton chuckled and rubbed his thumbs back and forth across her nipples, bending the firm, rubbery protrusions. She hated this man. His lewd pawing revolted her. Yet her body was demanding more and more. She was in the midst of a battle she had fought before and lost. She was
desperately determined not to lose again. But there was that safe...
"Why don't you get me a drink?" Ava asked. "I ... I could use one."
He stopped tickling her titties and gave her a quizzical look. He seemed to be considering, then said, "Let's not bother with that now."
"But I need a drink!" she exclaimed, her voice taut.
"What you need is cock," Groton said lewdly. "My cock! Right in that hot little pussy of yours."
He quickly slid his hand under a leg elastic of her pants, and his fingers pressed her hairy, oozing slit. A ragged moan escaped her lips as he wormed a stiff finger between her puffy, wet labia and into the narrow mouth of her vagina.
She slumped back against the table and pressed her hot cunt against the hand that was frigging it. Her thighs parted widely, and her eyes closed.
Grinning evilly, Groton leaned down and held her panty crotch aside with his other hand so he could watch as he slowly rotated his middle finger up Ava's hot, juicy snatch. He thrilled to the sight of her jiggly flesh changing shape as he reamed her soft sexual port. Her short hairs were glossy against the delicate beige of her outer labia. As he circled his finger inside her, he got teasing glimpses of her pink inner flesh that was slippery and warm.
Her pussy was very snug, but it was ready. Groton had never stuck his finger into a woman who was readier.
He grasped Ava's hand and carried it to his lap, placing it on the long. hard shape that extended down the left leg of his trousers.
"Unzip my pants. Do it!" he grated, moving her hand to the top of his fly.
Groton continued to circle and stroke his maddening finger up the tunnel of her twat, he took her thumb and forefinger and pinched them onto his zipper tab.
"Pull it down!" he ordered, continuing to hold her hand in place, but not moving it, wanting her to make the move herself.
With a little whine, she moved her hand, pulling his zipper down.
"That's it, baby ... that's it," he murmured. "Now reach inside." He kept stroking his finger in her cunt, straight in and out, exciting the hard, nub of her clit.
Ava squirmed and whimpered. Her hand delved into his pants, grasping the hot, long prick that she needed. She pulled the monster out.
Her eyes popped open, and she stared at the massive rod she held, sticking straight up through Groton's open fly. His cock had no foreskin. The head was purplish-rose, the shaft swarthy. It was a wicked-looking thing, long and frightfully hard. It was what she needed.
Groton grinned. He removed his finger from her cunt. His finger glistened. He wiped it on her inner thigh.
She kept staring at his cock, her hand frozen around it like an old-time pilot gripping the joystick as his plane plummeted earthward in a fatal dive.
"Lie down," he said. He swung Ava around on the table as he stood. Her back came to rest against the worn, hardwood top.
Groton took her hand away from his cock. Standing beside her, the awesome organ projecting forward from his pants, he bent and arranged Ava's short skirt around her middle. He gripped her white panties and pulled them down.
She moaned and kept staring at his prick.
Ava's naked belly was delightfully trim, her navel crowning a barely definable curve. The mound of her pussy was much more pronounced, with a bunch of hair at the crest of it and whiskers trailing down along the sides of her soft, wet cunt.
Groton boldly lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, then stepped to the side where he had a perfect view of her wantonly exposed crotch. He admired the dainty, hair-encircled maw of her vulva as he stripped his clothes off.
Nude, his disproportionately large prick thrust forward, Groton settled between Ava's widespread thighs. She jammed her eyes tightly closed as she felt the mouth of her pussy dilate in anticipation.
Leaning on an arm at her side, Groton wrapped his other hand around an up-thrust, lusciously tapered titty and squeezed the resilient shape as he swiped his wet tongue back and forth across her rosy, jutting nipple. She moaned. Her body was hotly throbbing from tits to toes.
Unwilling to postpone the decisive act of conquest a moment longer, he gripped his horny tool and pointed the blunt, moist end into Ava's softly puckered, infinitely moist core. She gasped at the contact and stiffened. Groton wiggled his prick by hand, settling it in her circling labia, finding the open but narrow mouth of her channel and nestling his tip there.
Ava held her breath, knowing that the brutal thrust was about to come. The pause before the thrust, though lasting only a moment, seemed an eternity to Ava. Then, with a grunt, Groton drove his hips forward, and his hard shaft rammed into her small opening, stretching the elastic maw and gliding on a viscous film as it surged all the way up her channel.
"Oooh!" Ava exclaimed.
The penetration hadn't hurt, but there was a tremendous sensation of being forcibly opened and stuffed. She felt his long, hard prick throbbing deep within her belly, its thickness spreading her tender tissues wide. Her slick warmth clung to him.
Groton reveled in the thrill of her snug cuntal embrace. He hadn't been in such a tight one in quite some time. He had an urge to fuck her fast, but he controlled himself. This was too good to rush through. Anyway, he wanted the satisfaction of raising her to a pitch of gasping, writhing frenzy before he finally shot his sperm into her.
Groton slowly withdrew his cock, looking right into her wide, dark eyes, which had popped open at the moment of his thrust. He checked his withdrawal just as the thickest part of his organ reached the mouth of her vagina. He gave a little jerk of his hips, stroking the corona quickly in and out across the very sensitive nerve ends of her clitoris, then bulled into her once more, sinking deep and throbbing.
Ava whined pleasurably. The fucking was beginning to feel very good. She let her eyelids drop closed because she preferred not to see Groton's evilly grinning face above her. Her brain remained numb, except on the most basic level. She swam in a sea of sensation.
Groton stroked his fat, long prick in and out of her pussy, sawing expertly across the head of her clit. The little nub of erectile tissue tingled ecstatically against the slow, steady strokes of his rod. With each penetrating lunge, he spread her channel wide. When he was all the way into her, the tip of his cock seemed to tickle her uterus, and his balls nudged the sensitive rim of her anus.
Ava couldn't remain still for long. As Groton's thrusts surged in and out with the relentless regularity of a rolling sea, her hips went into motion, rising and falling against his strokes.
"Ooh ... oooh ... oooh," she panted.
Nothing mattered at the moment except what she felt the massive, hard cock that was filling her, rocking her, coming in ... in ... in.
Elevating her ass above the table, Ava moaned as she screwed her cunt around the long, delicious dick. Her feet were pushing against the floor and against the top of the table for leverage. Her head rolled against the top of the table, mussing her hair.
"You like it, don't you?" Groton said, fucking her slowly and steadily. "You like it!"
"Yes ... yes," she panted.
"Say it! Say, I. . . like your. . . cock!"
She kept screwing.
"Say it."
"Ooh, God!"
"Say it, bitch!" Groton snarled.
"I like your cock!" Ava exclaimed.
"Damned right you do!"
He fucked her harder. Ava couldn't help but respond with passion which had been pent up within her for so long. She drove her hot hips against the rhythmically penetrating male, her ass quivering above the table, her tits wobbling forward and back, the stiff, up-thrust nipples doing little loops.
Groton remained up on his arms so he could watch all this and the sweet contortions of her prim face which had suddenly turned pagan. Her slippery, clutching cunt swirled and stroked around his driving cock, pulling at it, seeming to suck it deeper and deeper within herself.
The pleasure she derived was like nothing she had felt before. Groton's cock was thick and long, and he was applying it in a way that stimulated every nerve end in her vulva and vagina. She rocketed to a height of passion which she had never believed existed. She was reaching for the satisfaction which she long had craved but had been unable to define.
She knew it was coming. She was coming.
Groton pulled out all the stops, driving his stiff prick into her with short, rapid strokes. Ava clamped her legs around the backs of his thighs and pulled her hot cunt against him until her pussy hairs ground into his coarser, thicker growth.
She felt an ecstatic, quaking throb begin deep inside her, then he let go, twitching and gushing his warm, thick cream into her depths. Ava burst with a shuddering wave of blissful warmth that radiated through her entire body. Another wave followed, another. She moaned and undulated, shaking from head to toes. She nearly blacked out. The room seemed to spin, and Ava's cunt was at the center of the vortex, throbbing and sucking at the long, quivering cylinder of man-flesh which had given her such pleasure and was now spitting its final gushes into her spastically contracting womb.
She was perfectly gratified.
CHAPTER FIVE
After exploring the house and grounds for an hour, Randy felt a slight sense of fatigue. He'd exerted himself considerably the night before, and he decided to go to his room and take a short nap.
In his room, he took off his jacket, hung it neatly in the closet and loosened his tie. Then he lay down on the bed with a sigh and closed his
eyes. He was just beginning to drift to sleep when a soft knock sounded on the door adjoining Sherry's room.
"Come in," he called.
Sherry stepped in, still fully dressed. She closed the door behind her and came over to his bed.
"Did I wake you up, Randy?"
"Not really," he said. "I was just dozing. Did you want to see me about something particular?"
She smiled, her small, white, even teeth glistening.
"Very particular. I wanted to warn you about Ava."
"What about Ava?"
"She has a serious problem." Sherry sat on the bed next to him. "A problem involving men."
"Do you mean Groton?"
"No. All men. You see, ever since she was a child practically, she was very demanding with men. I mean, she offers herself to virtually every man she meets, and if he rejects her, she becomes obsessed with the idea that she has to have that particular man. She'll go to any length, believe me, to seduce him. I just thought I'd warn you. so you'd know what to expect." She smiled, tracing the outline of her lips with the pink tip of her tongue. "Forewarned is forearmed. Right, Doctor?"
He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you know what projection is, Sherry?"
"like a movie camera?"
"No. In psychology, projection means we see in other people, or we think we see, traits that actually belong to ourselves. It's an unconscious process."
Sherry raised her eyebrows. "So?"
"So," he said, leaning on his elbow, his face a scant few inches from her thighs, "I believe you're not talking about Ava at all. Unconsciously, you're describing yourself."
A slow smile spread across Sherry's face. "You're crazy as a hoot owl if you believe that nonsense. I've never offered myself to a man. I don't have to. They come panting after me. Do you know why?"
His eyes ran over her body, pausing at the silky smoothness of her legs. "It's pretty obvious, I'd say."
"That's just the frosting on the cake."
"Very nice frosting," he admitted.
"But it's the cake itself that counts, isn't it? Would you like to see the cake? Taste it, perhaps? It has a flavor I guarantee you'll never forget. Oh, I can see from the look on your face that you think I'm bragging. That sort of challenge no girl can resist." She stood up. "Behold, my learned friend."
In one quick movement, she'd slipped her sweater over her head and tossed it casually onto a chair. She unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor, stepping daintily out of it.
She stood before him in a black bra and black lace panties, still wearing panty hose and heels. She moved close to him so that her fully molded hips and slightly rounded stomach were only a few inches from his face.
Randy felt the blood begin to pound in his temples. There was nothing statuesque or classic about her, like Gina. But the supple promise still hidden beneath her bra and panties was enough to make his cock erect savagely.
Hands on hips, she thrust her stomach closer to his face.
"Nothing spectacular so far, is there?" she murmured.
"No," he agreed. "But you've got a fantastic body, Sherry."
She laughed softly. "It's only the frosting. The flavor is the main thing. I know tricks," she went on in a husky voice, "that can make a man get on his hands and knees and beg for it, that can give him such pleasure he'll plead with me to stop."
She reached behind her and unhooked the bra.
"Talk is cheap' though," she said, taking off the bra and tossing it on a chair. "Let me show you where the action is."
Her breasts were small, but firm and luscious-looking. She cupped one in each hand and pressed them together, and Randy felt his mouth water.
"They're not exactly monumental in size, are they?" she said, sitting on the bed. "But size isn't everything. Taste one," she commanded, holding it out to him.
He put his lips on a rosy pink nipple, ran his tongue around it, then bit it gently, causing her to suck in her breath.
A hot, urgent readiness coursed through his body. His lips traveled down the golden softness of her stomach, to the rim of her black-lace panties. The fragrance of an exciting perfume drifted up to his nostrils.
Sherry pushed him gently away.
"It's better to take a good look at what you're getting, first."
She raised one smooth, beautifully tapered leg and shifted her position so that her leg lay on the bed before him.
"Take off the panties," she said.
He put his hands on her thigh and began sliding the nylon off slowly, the hot silkiness of her skin causing his heart to hammer against his ribs. His hands journeyed over the firm flesh of her calves and down the narrow taper of her ankles, finally pulling off the panties and the hose. She shifted her bare leg over his body to his other side. Then she offered the other leg, leaning back on her elbows facing him, so that she had one leg on each side of his body, giving him a full view of the golden, shadowy softness of her cunt.
For a minute she continued to lie like that, moving her ass in a slow, provocative circle, keeping her tantalizing pussy-always in his view.
There was no doubt about it. Sherry was small all over, but she had one of the most exciting bodies he'd ever seen. From the rosy, tiny tips of her sweet-tasting nipples to the ripe, beckoning contours of her small stomach, her mounded cunt and rounded hips, down to her full thighs and delicately tapered legs, she seemed to be created for fucking.
She got up off the bed and stood before him proudly for a moment before she reversed her earlier position, this time lying next to him so that her body was parallel to his.
He started to cup one juicy breast in his hand when she stopped him.
"Undress first, Doctor."
In his wild impatience, he'd completely forgotten he was still dressed. He got up off the bed and undressed quickly. Her eyes shone at his lean, muscular hardness. He lay down next to her again and gave her a long, passionate kiss.
Her small, sensual lips were hot and pliant beneath his, first sucking, then teasing him by closing tightly when he tried to thrust his tongue between her teeth, biting it gently. The next moment her hot little tongue slithered into his mouth, probing, and then their tongues worked together for a while. In the meantime, her hands groped his body expertly, rubbing and stroking so that his cock was aroused to the point of frantic impatience. He responded by massaging her ass and pussy with his hands, squeezing them one at a time and then together. She squirmed with delight.
After a few minutes, he pulled his lips away from hers. Her tongue immediately slithered in his ear and down his chest, pausing there to make tiny circles and then over the hardness of his stomach.
"Hang on," she warned him, and the next moment he gasped with pleasure as she began sucking his rod and squeezing his balls. The sensation shot electric particles throughout his body. Her tongue worked with tantalizing skill on his knob. Her hot little lips were eager and frenzied, causing him to moan out loud. She used her hands in conjunction with her lips and tongue, gripping his ass fiercely.
Just when he thought he couldn't control himself any longer, she released her compelling grip, as though sensing exactly how far she could bring him before he would cream into her mouth.
Her mouth rose to meet his, her hot body squirming beneath his.
"Ride," she told him. "Ride on, Doctor."
She raised her knees and drew up her legs, her whole body hot, her cunt moist with readiness.
With a supreme effort at self-control, Randy refused to obey her. Instead, he gripped her firm buttocks in his hands and worked his lips on her nipples alternately; then his mouth traveled across her yielding stomach to her snatch.
"Fuck me now," she commanded hoarsely.
The next instant she let out a long, low moan of joy. Her hips squirmed in frantic circles at the delicious sensation, and her fingers dug into his shoulders like pincers.
"Too much," she gasped. "I can't take much more of it. So hot, so hot ... "
Randy ignored her protests, continuing to assail her cunt with his slavering mouth until her moans became loud, sharp cries, and her hips jerked in a violent staccato.
"Can't ... take ... it ... anymore," she gasped, her fingers clawing through his hair, her head moving from side to side as though unable to bear the ecstasy any further.
Randy decided she'd had enough of that for the time. He climbed' on top of her eager body. She raised her legs high, putting them over his shoulders for maximum penetration.
"Fuck me," she moaned. "Fuck hard, or I'll faint."
The next instant he caught his breath with surprised pleasure. Her vagina was tight, all right. She fit him like a custom-tailored glove.
At first, they worked slowly and rhythmically together, Randy grasping her ass and kneading it in time to their fucking.
"So good," she crooned in his ear, "so crazy ... "
He speeded up the tempo slightly, and her teeth sank into his shoulder.
"All day ... all night," she gasped. "I could fuck all day ... all night. See ... how you like ... this. . . "
The next moment a hot, intense pleasure shot through his body as she contracted the muscles in her vagina. He discovered she had fantastic muscular powers. A shiver ran up and down his spine as she did it again, harder.
"How ... do you like that ... ? " she moaned.
For an answer, he rammed his cock into her sweating hole as hard as he could, and her whole body shuddered.
"Give cock ... to me ... again," she whispered.
He rammed his stiff rod into her again violently, and she whimpered, her heels digging into his back.
She suddenly changed her movements from a frantic up-and-down rhythm to a side-to-side motion. A whole new area of pleasure opened up for Randy.
Her body froze in mid-air for a moment, quivering from head to toe, then she shifted her motion again to a wide, circular pattern, flexing her cunt muscles in the process.
"Ahh ... " she moaned, "that was ... number one ... stay with me, Randy ... stay ... "
He did his utmost to control his orgasm, but it was very difficult with the feel of her intensely hot, squirming body against him.
Again, her back arched and her whole body shuddered.
"Number ... two ... " she moaned. "Fuck more ... Ram me, Randy!"
Their tempo mounted to a frenzy, their locked bodies moving as one, her hips grinding against his madly, her cunt muscles giving him such a thrill he had to clench his teeth.
"Now," she commanded, "give it ... cream into me ... now."
A hot, melting wave coursed through his body as her muscles seized him in one final, spasmodic lock.
"Ahh ... " she whimpered, "number ... three."
Holding his breath at the pinnacle, Randy felt both their bodies shudder violently. He sagged against her a moment later as his cum shot into her sucking cunt in long white ropes.
She continued to whimper and moan for a minute.
"Never been fucked so good," she gasped. continuing to pulsate her muscles slightly. Sliding her legs over his shoulders slowly, she let them come to a rest on the bed.
"How did you like it?" she whispered.
"I liked it," he said, aware that it was the greatest understatement he'd ever made.
"I want more," she demanded. "Fuck me again."
"Now, just a minute, Sherry ... " he began.
Before he could finish the sentence, her hand had skillfully seized his prick and began stroking and massaging with loving care, her tongue probing his mouth, its hot tip a fiery, searching cone. More powerful than before, his cock sprang to life, urgent and driving. The hot little body beneath his squirmed happily at his fresh vigor, and Sherry raised her legs again.
"This time I'm going to outdo myself," she promised him. "This time ... "
At that moment a loud, piercing scream sounded throughout the house.
Randy paused in the act of mounting Sherry, his ears straining intently.
"God, what was that?" Sherry whispered.
A few seconds later, it sounded again, even more blood-curdling and horrifying than before.
Randy suddenly leaped off the bed.
"That's Gina's voice," he said grimly. Snatching up his pants, he hurriedly put them on. He slipped in his shirt, not bothering to button it or put on shoes.
"Don't leave me here alone!" Sherry said, getting out of bed but Randy brushed past her and was out the door in a matter of seconds.
He took the few steps across the hall and, without bothering to knock, flung open Gina's door. She stood by the bed, still fully dressed, her face chalky white, her hand to her throat.
"What is it?" Randy said.
She turned dazed, frightened eyes on him, her lips moving soundlessly. Recognizing the symptoms of hysteria at once, he raised a hand slapped her. Not hard, but with authority.
Her eyes suddenly cleared up. "Over there," she said, pointing to the opposite wall. Randy turned his head and looked. He saw nothing but a bare patch of wall.
"There's nothing there, Gina."
"But there was a moment ago. I was standing in front of the mirror. It was horrible."
"Now just be calm," he said, taking her arm and leading her over to the bed, where he sat her gently down. "Be calm and tell me exactly what you saw."
"It was a huge face, with the most evil expression I've ever seen. It covered almost the whole wall." She stared up at him. "It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it's true. You've got to believe me, Randy."
"I do, Gina, I do." He made his voice as soothing and reassuring as possible. "Now show me exactly where this face was."
She pointed. "Right there."
Randy walked over to the spot and studied the wall thoughtfully. It had once been covered by wallpaper, but was now bare.
"It was so ... so eerie and ghostly-looking. It wasn't even a man's face. It looked as though it belonged to a ... a demon of some sort."
Randy smiled reassuringly at her, trying to hide his skepticism. "like something out of a book, Gina? An illustration, perhaps?"
She nodded. "Something like that. It didn't move. It simply stared at me for a few seconds and faded away."
"Faded away slowly, or vanished all at once?"
"Does that matter?" Her voice grew shrill. "You're humoring me, aren't you? You don't even think I saw it at all."
"Of course I do," he said quickly, seeing she was on the edge of hysteria again. "But my question is important, Gina. . Now think. Did it vanish suddenly or slowly fade away?"
"It faded away. Bit, by bit. First the eyes, and then the nose, and then finally it was gone!"
"And it made no sound?"
She shook her head. "None."
A knock on the door made her jump. Randy went over and opened it. Sherry stood there, fully dressed again, her cheeks still flushed from the recent sexual excitement.
"What's wrong." she asked.
While Gina told her, Randy went over to the opposite wall and studied it with great care. After a few minutes, he joined Gina and Sherry-
"Have you ever seen any of these phenomena or heard them in the daytime, Sherry?"
"No. Only at night. Never while the sun was still shining. Whatever it is, it's afraid of daylight, I'm sure."
Randy turned his head to stare thoughtfully at the fireplace on the opposite wall from where Gina had seen the apparition.
"Tell me, Sherry. Are there any hidden passages or chambers in this house?"
"No. At least none that I know of. But there could be," she admitted. "It's a very big house. I wasn't too interested in exploring it as a child. It's always been so ... " she shivered, ". . .so gloomy."
Randy went to the fireplace while she spoke and ran his fingers over the ornate decoration, consisting of hand-carved nymphs and lecherously horned creatures pursuing them.
"What makes you think there are?" Sherry asked.
"Just a hunch," Randy said.
The door burst open. and Ava strode in, followed by Groton.
"Don't you ever knock? " asked Gina
"She never bothers with the trivial formalities, do you, Ava?" said Sherry.
Ava faced Randy, ignoring her sister and Gina. "What was that awful racket a few minutes ago? It was enough to scare the wits out of a person."
"Gina saw a ghost," said Sherry. "An honest-to-goodness ghost in the daytime. Where were you and Groton, by the way?"
Ava's face flushed slightly. "We were taking inventory in the kitchen, if you must know everything."
Sherry laughed. "It must have been a highly successful inventory, from the looks of your skirt."
Ava looked down at her rumpled skirt, and her face turned beet-red. The zipper on the side was still open.
Groton spoke up in a sullen voice. "We were counting dishes, like she said. We were taking inventory."
Sherry grinned at him. "You must have really strained yourself at it, too. You look plumb tuckered out, Groton."
"And what, may I inquire, were you doing at the time?" Ava asked in a cutting voice.
"Doctor Garten and I were having a discussion about psychic phenomena. A very fascinating discussion. Weren't we, Randy?"
Randy avoided Gina's sharp gaze as he spoke. "As a matter-of-fact, we were. Tell me, Groton," he said, turning to face the sullen man, "in the course of your duties have you ever found any secret passages or hideaways in the house?"
Groton looked briefly at Ava before he spoke. "Found nothing. Nothing to find. I'm going back to the kitchen."
He clumped heavily out of the room.
"Is there any brandy in the house?" Randy asked Ava.
She nodded. "I'll get it." She turned to leave when Sherry murmured, "Don't bother to take inventory on it, dear. I think your assistant isn't quite up to it again."
From the doorway, Ava shot Sherry a look of pure hatred, then disappeared.
"It's probably none of my business," Gina spoke up, "but I wouldn't rile her too much, even if she is your foster sister. Something tells me she can be very dangerous when she's pushed too far."
Sherry yawned. "You're right when you say it's none of your business, darling. I guess I'll go to my room and finish my nap." She turned a long, melting glance on Randy. "We'll finish that discussion some other time, Doctor."
Gina waited until Sherry left the room before she faced Randy.
"And how is little Sherry as a conversationalist?"
"She's quite ... ah ... skilled actually."
Gina came up close to him. "As skilled as I am?"
Randy's eyes strayed to the creamy white cleft of her bosom. Now that the sudden turn of events had died down, his previous excitement returned in a rush. Sherry had left him primed and panting a few minutes earlier. A lingering glance at Gina's ripe, shapely body was sufficient to prime him all over again. His hands trembled slightly as the wild impulse to throw Gina down on the bed and tear off her clothes seized him.
He mentally gave Sherry credit for knowing how to arouse a man to the point of savagery. She hadn't been boasting at all earlier. Her talented hands and lips had completely shattered his usual self-control. He wanted literally to rip Gina's clothes from her lush body, to take her by force, to grip those milky-white, soft buttocks in his hands and squeeze them harshly, to dig into those velvety thighs with all his might, to fuck her into unconsciousness.
Instead, he took a deep breath and got a firm grip on his emotions.
"This apparition," he said, "was it black and white?"
"It wasn't in Technicolor if that's what you mean," she said dryly.
"I wasn't joking, Gina. It's important that I know."
Ava came into the room then, carrying a bottle of brandy and some glasses on a tray. Randy poured each of them a drink.
"For medicinal purposes," he told Gina, handing her a glass-full. She stared at it doubtfully.
"You know I don't drink, Randy."
"Don't be square," Ava put in tartly. "It's good for you. Brandy can be a girl's best friend sometimes, especially when she's frightened. Right,
Doctor?"
"True. It won't harm you, Gina. Just sip a little at a time."
Gina did as she was told. Her face lit up. "It's delicious. Makes my stomach tingle." She took a healthy swallow, draining the glass in one sip.
"Easy does it," Randy warned. "It's potent stuff. Moderation is the password."
"To hell with it," said Gina. "Give me another."
Randy hesitated, then poured her another glass-full. Before he could stop her, she drained that, too.
"Wow," she murmured. "My tummy is hot. Feel it, Randy, it's actually on fire." She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her stomach hard.
"I think you'd better lie down," Randy said in a stern voice.
She put her hand to her temple. "Maybe I'd better. I feel a little dizzy."
He led her to the bed, and she lay down while Ava watched, grinning. Randy took off her heels and loosened the top few buttons of her dress.
"Can't wait?" said Ava.
"Don't be silly," Randy said. "The shock she's had combined with her first taste of liquor has practically knocked her out. Look at her. She's almost asleep."
Gina smiled foolishly, and a few seconds later her chest began rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. Randy felt Ava's hard body brush against his as she stood next to him.
"Poor thing," said Ava. "That must have been quite a scare. I suppose," she said slowly, "she's gone and left you high and dry."
Randy looked down at her. Her sharp features were taut with suppressed excitement, and a hard, fierce light shone in her eyes.
"What do you mean, high and dry?" he asked.
Her lips twisted. "Don't be so high and mighty, Doctor. You know what the phrase means. Primed. Ready to ball. Set to fuck. All vulgar, but right to the point. That's the way I am, but I don't make excuses for it. I don't believe in wasting time." She grabbed his hand, and rubbed it over her cunt.
"Hard, isn't it?" she said in a husky voice. "Don't let that fool you, though. I can give you a swinging time that'll make you forget her." She gripped his hand with her crotch. "Hard, yes but it's all muscle. Educated, swinging muscle." She reared her head back, and her eyelids dropped until her eyes were slits of glittering excitement. Randy realized at once that she was an authentic nymphomaniac not the self-styled, homegrown variety that hopped into bed with every man she met for the sheer pleasure of it, but the authentic thing, the kind of woman who was completely governed by her lustful demands, whose insatiable drive for men could never be satisfied.
"I'll bet you're a real man beneath that stuffed shirt," she whispered, "I'll bet you're a cock and a half. Let's ball, Doctor, let's make a real day out of it, let's fuck until the sun sets, and swing some more until it rises again. What do you say, man?"
Randy stared down at her, fascinated. He'd never had the opportunity of studying a true nymphomaniac before, and the scientific part of his mind was enthralled. As she talked in a singsong monotone probably not even aware of what she was actually saying, he thought she continued to grip his hand between her hard thighs, her body swaying from side to side, her breath coming fast and furious, her back arched.
"C'mon, c'mon," she chanted, "let's fly' Professor, and believe me, this is the only way to fly, let's soar, man. You haven't lived until Ava shows you what fucking is. Give it to me, give it to me, fuck me ... "
He suddenly realized she was at a fever-pitch of excitement, no longer the carefully composed, tough young woman as hard as nails, but the chanting, raving nymphomaniac whose sexual needs tormented her body ruthlessly.
"What are you waiting for?" she hissed. "If you're thinking of Sherry, forget it. I can wail circles around her, I can screw circles around anybody. Just let me prove it, that's all, let me prove how a real woman operates ... "
Gina suddenly stirred and murmured Randy's name, breaking the spell. Randy tore his hand away from Ava, whose body stiffened. She straightened up and opened her eyes.
"We'll go to my room," she whispered. "Let's go, quick, before I come."
"Listen, Ava," Randy said, "I can't. I'm sorry, but I ... "
With a shock, he became aware that she was already fumbling with his pants, her hands clawing at his belt frantically.
"Now stop that," he said. "Listen, Ava ... "
From the expression on her face, he knew she wasn't hearing a word he said. With desperation, she was clawing at his pants, her eyes blazing with a single-mindedness of purpose, oblivious to everything except the torture in her cunt.
"Ava," he snapped. "Stop that this instant."
Frowning with concentration, she dropped to her knees and kept tearing at his belt buckle, intent on that and nothing else.
Randy took a deep breath. Gina was stirring again. There was only one thing to do.
Taking careful aim, he lashed out with his fist and caught Ava neatly on the jaw. She dropped heavily to the floor.
At that moment, Gina woke up. She sat up on the bed, rubbing her eyes. She looked down at Ava's body, then up at Randy, her face bewildered.
"What happened to Ava?" she asked.
"She fainted," said Randy. "The brandy, I guess."
He knelt on the floor and picked Ava up in his arms. "I'd better put her to bed."
He carried her out of the room, pausing in the hallway, wondering which room was hers. He knocked on Sherry's door. She opened it a moment later, staring at her sister in surprise.
"What happened to her?"
"She fainted. Which room is hers?"
A light dawned in Sherry's eyes, and she burst out laughing.
"Well, what's so funny?" asked Randy irritably.
"Fainted, my foot. She tried to rape you, didn't she? And you probably clipped her on the jaw. Not that I blame you. but remember I tried to warn you about her earlier, and you gave me a lecture on psychological mumbo-jumbo. She's completely nuts on the subject of men. You're safe as long as you're not alone with her. When that happens, watch out!"
"We weren't alone," said Randy. "Gina was in the room."
"In that case. you're really in trouble," said Sherry grinning. "That means she won't stop at anything. Her room is the one next to Gina's. And once you put her to bed, get out fast before she wakes up."
Randy carried Ava down the hallway and opened the door to her room. He took her over to her bed and dropped her on it gently. After a brief examination of her jaw, he decided he hadn't really harmed her at all, except for a slight contusion. When he straightened up, he suddenly sensed something very strange about the room. He slowly turned from wall to wall, an expression of astonishment on his face.
There were mirrors everywhere.
Every wall was covered with large, ornate mirrors, all of them tinted amber. Randy shook his head, and started to leave the room when a hunch made him look up. Sure enough, the ceiling was one large mirror, in which he saw Ava reflected as she lay in bed.
He left the room. closing the door softly so as not to wake her. He went down the hallway to his own room, thinking that it wasn't enough for Ava to enjoy herself in bed she had to have a ringside seat, too.
CHAPTER SIX
In his room, Randy carefully locked the door. Then he went over to the adjoining door to Sherry's room and bolted that from the inside. After Ava's frenzied sexual exhibition, he was determined to keep the rest of his visit on a strictly professional level.
Enough was enough, he'd decided, and he'd had more than enough of women for the time being. He resolutely pushed the vivid image of Gina's taut, eager breasts straining at her cotton dress from his mind. It wasn't going to be easy, he realized, but he was a scholar first and a man second. It occurred to him that in a way the fact that he was such an efficient scholar was the very source of his trouble. After all, it was scientific curiosity that had driven him to succumb to Sherry's charms, to compare her talents in bed to Gina's lush attractions. And it was a very difficult comparison, too, because the two women were so different, mentally and physically. As matters stood, Sherry had a slight edge simply because their fucking was so recent and fresh in his mind, while he hadn't screwed Gina since the night before.
Despite this, it was Gina he desired, not Sherry. Randy stood in the center of his room, staring thoughtfully in the direction of Gina's room, struggling with his earlier resolution to avoid any further entanglements. Finally, after a brief violent struggle, his promise won out.
There was a fireplace in his room that was almost identical to the one in Gina's room. He went over to it now and examined it carefully, probing the intricate design with his thumb and forefinger, pressing here and there where the hand-carved wood protruded. For a full twenty minutes he probed, kneeling, and at last he stood up with a sigh. At the moment he stood up, his elbow knocked painfully against the underside of the mantle.
The entire fireplace began to swing out, creaking.
Randy watched with satisfaction. He had a hunch there were hidden passageways and rooms in the old house, a hunch that was formed from earlier excursions into similar old mansions. When the fireplace stopped creaking, Randy stooped and peered inside, his nostrils recoiling from the damp, musty odor that came out. It was dark as pitch inside.
He went over to the dresser drawer and got the flashlight he'd brought with him. Remembering that he'd brought Gina along as an impartial witness, he unlocked his door and knocked softly on hers. After a moment she opened it.
"Come with me," he whispered.
Her face lit up, and he added, "This is business, Gina. "
With a wry, disappointed smile, she followed him into his room. He locked the door again and went over to the open fireplace.
Gina stared at it in surprise. "How did you discover that?"
"A hunch. And experience. Let's go inside, and remember, be quiet. Talk in whispers. We may stumble across someone."
He switched on the flashlight, crouching in the small entrance. The light revealed a gloomy passageway with walls of brick. Gina clutched his sleeve.
"Ready?" he whispered.
"For anything," she replied, following him inside the passageway. They were able to straighten up inside. They hadn't gone more than a few yards when a slow, creaking sound made Randy whirl around.
The fireplace was closing again.
They watched, frozen with awe, as it swung shut with a click.
"How did that happen?" Gina whispered.
"Probably automatic. We must have stepped on a brick that triggered its closing mechanism."
"How are we going to get out, though?" she asked.
Randy scratched his head. "That's a good question. Maybe it will open automatically, too. Anyway, as long as we're inside, let's explore it."
He shone the beam on her face. "Scared?" he asked.
"Darn right I am," Gina said. "But don't mind me. I'm going to hang on to your sleeve for dear life."
"Okay, let's go."
After a few yards, the passageway turned sharply. Randy tried to figure in which direction they were going, concluding they were crossing the end of the hallway toward Gina's room. They suddenly came across a large, oak door with rusty hinges. Randy shone the light on it fully, and Gina let out a short scream.
On the center of the door hung a grinning skull.
"Easy," Randy told her. "It's probably nothing more than someone's idea of a joke."
"Or a warning," she said. "Let's go back. I don't want to go in there. Not for anything."
Randy studied the skull with care. After a moment he laughed.
"It's not even a human skull."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a plastic reproduction, very authentic-looking, but factory-made by the thousands, They're used in medical schools, among other places."
Gina let out a long sigh of relief. "I don't care," she said stubbornly. "I still don't want to go in there."
"Don't be silly, Gina. We may find the answer to your ghostly apparition, believe me."
He turned the knob and swung open the large door, which creaked painfully on its rusty hinges. Carefully, he stepped inside the room and shone the light around. He caught his breath. Gina's fingers dug into his arm.
"Wow" she whispered.
In the center of the room stood a shrine, surrounded on each side by tall pillars. On the stone shrine were life-size statues of a man and woman screwing, fixed forever in a moment of ecstasy, their marble bodies so life-like Randy expected them to move any second. The woman had firm, bare breasts so skillfully sculptured Randy had to resist the impulse to reach out and caress them. Her body was small, but perfectly proportioned. It looked vaguely familiar to him.
"Her face," Gina whispered. "Look at it."
Randy shone the full beam on it. There was no mistaking those finely molded features or that innocent expression. Beyond a doubt, it was Sherry's face. And, as his eyes took in the petite body once more, there was no doubt that it was Sherry's body, either.
"Who do you suppose the man is?" Gina asked.
Randy transferred the light to the man's face.
"I don't know," he said. "It could be anyone. Her lover, I suppose."
"But isn't there something familiar about his face?" Gina persisted.
Randy studied it carefully. There was something faintly familiar in the features, but whoever it reminded him of completely eluded him.
"It reminds me of someone," he admitted, "but I can't place him at the moment. Let's look at the rest of the place."
He shone the flashlight slowly around the room.
There were beautifully executed oil paintings on the walls, all with the same theme of sex, all done with the highest professional skill.
Gina let out a low whistle. "I don't know anything about art, but I would guess there's a small fortune on those canvases."
"More than small," said Randy. He went over to one painting and searched until he found the artist's signature, recognizing it at once as a well-known, recently deceased painter. "Come over and take a look at the signature."
Gina joined him.
"Why do you suppose paintings worth a fortune are kept holed up in a room like this?" she asked.
Randy shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm sure Sherry has the answer."
Gina pressed her body against his in the semidarkness. "They're exciting to look at, aren't they?" she whispered. "So ... life-like. I wonder who posed for them?"
"I haven't the vaguest," said Randy, acutely aware of Gina's soft belly brushing his hip. "But they are exciting."
"Inspiring is the word," she said in a husky voice.
"Let's examine the rest of the place," he said, remembering his earlier resolution.
In the corner, they found a huge, four-poster bed, neatly made up and free of dust.
"Linen's been changed recently," Randy said. "Someone has been taking awfully good care of this room, even if the rest of the house is a shambles. What's this?"
He slid open some drapes that lined one wall. Behind them was a closet almost twenty feet in length. Neatly kept on hangers were scores of negligees, nightgowns, feminine under things and some odd-looking dresses. A closer examination of the dresses revealed strange, whimsical designs, such as tiny, apertures for a woman's nipples to protrude, and numerous other exotic little touches. They were all obviously very expensive and custom-tailored.
Gina gasped. "Talk about a dream wardrobe! This is the finest collection of sexy apparel I've ever seen or probably will ever see." She ran her fingers through a silk negligee. "Expensive as the devil, too. Do you suppose all this belongs to Sherry? It's her size, all right."
"I wouldn't jump at any conclusions just yet," Randy said. "But it's clear we've stumbled across a secret love nest. As far as I can tell, though, it doesn't have any bearing on the weird things that have been happening lately. I wonder where this door leads to?"
He stood in front of a door that was securely padlocked.
"We'll probably never know, if the size of that lock is any indication," said Gina. A cold draft swept into the room, and she suddenly shivered.
"I'd like to go back now, Randy. I've seen enough for the time being."
He had to agree with her. For one thing, the cold and dampness were distinctly uncomfortable.
From the doorway, he shone the flashlight once more on the statues, trying to place the man's face.
Gina sighed. "I can't really say I'd blame you if you succumbed to Sherry. If she looks as good in the flesh as that statue, she must be something else in bed."
Randy was about to say that she was, but held his tongue just in time.
"Let's go," he said. She hung onto his sleeve as they went back into the corridor and retraced their steps. When they got to within a few yards of the fireplace, it began to swing open again.
"As I said, it's probably a spring device beneath one of these bricks," Randy said.
Back in his room, he ran his thumb beneath the mantle until he pressed the same spot he'd struck earlier by accident. The fireplace swung shut again.
"Do you suppose the fireplace in my room has the same setup?" asked Gina.
"Probably," said Randy. "That's why I'm so suspicious about that so-called apparition. We'll cheek on it later. I wouldn't advise you to try it without me. There's no telling what you might find when it opens."
"What are you going to do now?" she asked.
He glanced at his watch. "Take a shower and get ready for dinner. It's only about an hour away."
Gina went over to his door and locked it, leaning against it with a look of calculating hunger in her eyes.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
She arched her back slightly so that her breasts thrust out. "Those paintings," she said in a low voice. "Didn't you realize what they'd do to me?"
He frowned. "This isn't like your usual self, Gina. I always thought you were a woman of composure-"
"Composure?" she retorted. "Screw that. Last night for the first time I woke up, thanks to you. Composure is for old maids, not healthy young girls." She began walking toward him with a measured pace, swaying her hips slightly. "Last night you roused a sleeping tiger, and now you want to soothe it with words." She got to within a few inches of him and stopped, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling. "You've never seen my body in daylight, have you, Randy? No man ever has. I want you to be the first. I know that you'll compare it to Sherry's, and I want you to. Maybe she's got the experience I haven't, but I've got a body she'll never have."
He started to speak, and she put her fingers to his lips.
"No comment yet. Just wait, and watch."
She tossed back her head, her wealth of rich, black hair framing her lovely face. Smiling confidently, she unbuttoned her dress slowly. His eyes followed her fingers, fascinated. When it was completely undone, she slipped out of it and tossed it on the bed.
Even with her bra and panties still on, he had to admit that she put Sherry's statue to shame. She spread her long, tapered legs apart, reached back and unsnapped her bra and tossed that on the bed.
Randy's throat went dry.
Her luscious, creamy white breasts sprang forth eagerly, each nipple pointing slightly outward.
"Take off your shirt," Gina told him.
With urgent fingers, he took off his shirt and tossed it on the bed next to her dress. She stepped up to him, cupping her breasts in her hands, and let the nipples brush his bare chest in a side-to-side motion, then in an up-and-down motion. The soft, satiny texture of her breasts against his bare skin was enough to prime him to a frenzy. He'd never felt so powerfully aroused before, as though he could fuck her three times successively without tiring.
He seized her breasts and buried his face between them for a moment, then sucked hard on a rosy nipple, feeling it grow rigid in his mouth.
Gina gasped with pleasure and offered him the other nipple.
He repeated the process, working his tongue on it in a rapid, vibrating motion that caused her to moan with delight.
Until that moment, he'd never considered himself anything but a gentleman, willing to go through all the little amenities that women loved so much and that aroused them by degrees to such passionate heights, always carefully controlling his own desires to coincide with their slower natures.
But the feeling of Gina's satiny, milk-white breasts in his hands was enough to shatter his self-control completely. He lifted her easily by the waist, carried her over to the bed and dropped her. In a matter of seconds, he has his pants off. Bending over, he gripped her panties in his hands and tore them off, aroused to fever pitch by the fragrance of her cunt, and the feel of her long, shapely legs as he slid the panties over them.
He started to mount her when it occurred to him that a certain amount of passionate foreplay was essential for Gina's sake, otherwise it would be painful for her, especially since she was deflowered just the night before. Calling on his last reserves of patience and self-control, he held his passion in cheek and proceeded to arouse her to his own pitch.
She slipped into his arms and threw back her head as he began feverishly to kiss her breasts. He released her and grasped a breast in each hand, sucking the points as if they were trumpets. Gina felt cold shivers slide convulsively down her spine. She abandoned herself to his lips which ran all over the top part of her body, sucking as if he wanted to draw blood from her skin.
She put her arms around his body and pressed his head against her breasts. He was quivering with excitement.
His hands began frantically to explore her body, moving down her back, smoothing her buttocks, gripping them, catching them in voluptuous handfuls of flesh; he ran his fingers along the warm ravine of cleavage between them, pressed the puckered flesh of her anus until she squirmed and whimpered; he stroked her thighs and sought her lips with his. His tongue was rough.
Randy began to pant with the excitement of his efforts. His heart was pounding and his penis was as stiff as a ramrod.
In a very short time his hands, which had savagely ravished her body, lingering over her most intimate parts with a dalliance which betrayed his utter sensuality, became insufficient instruments for his lustful satisfaction.
With each fistful of flesh he clenched-buttocks, breasts, belly, vaginal lips-his hips strained up under her and he pulsated like a barrel of heated gunpowder.
With a shock, sudden and overwhelming as if cold water had been poured on his loins, Randy felt Gina's cool hands slip under his ass and enclose his burning heat in their soothing balm. He shuddered from head to toes.
Her fingers soothed and caressed, then gently began to rub up and down the stiff stem of flesh.
Gina was squirming with delight as his fingers brushed her vagina and pierced into its moist outskirts. She rolled over on top of him, infusing his body with her soft warmth. She pressed down on him and rubbed her hips voluptuously against his penis which she felt rolling like a length of doughy bread between them, a length of hot, newly baked bread.
His arms encircled her, pulling her to him, his hips pressed up against her, indenting her, sensual superfluity of flesh.
Gently, for several minutes they pressed together, with his hands holding her ass, his lips sucking her mouth open. And then she wriggled up a little on him until his penis waved wildly between her slightly opened thighs, cleaving up so that she could feel its upper side against her buttocks.
She broke from his ardent kissing and levered herself towards an upright position, sitting across his loins, one thigh on either side of his body. She caught his rod in her hand, gave it a last squeeze, knelt up and placed it against her.
Randy raised his head from its horizontal position and let his eyes augment the pleasure of his bodily senses.
He watched her lower herself gently, then flop down with a gasp of pent-up breath. Immediately he felt an abandonment of his soul; it rushed down through his body. It made the rest of his body, his mind, seem so much putty, so much lifeless clay. It was only down there that there was any reason for existence. The rest of him could have died if only that would go on living forever.
Gina plunged further down on that stiff pike, feeling it tear up inside her cunt. Her breasts jumped with her plunges, her thighs sank lower and lower, her knees slithered further away from his body on either side.
From time to time she opened her closed eyes or brushed the hair from her face. Then she would see Randy lying back, only his hips tensed, moving up at her in slight undulations as she descended. She would see his lips moving and his white, strained face.
Randy, too, opened his eyes every so often and fixed her with a gaze. Then she would screw up her beautiful face in passion, to excite him, mutter endearments and let her hair swing forward over her face in abandonment.
His body began to writhe and twist as he sank deeper and deeper into her moist, hot body.
He could feel the pounding of his heart. It seemed to fill his ears and his whole body. The physical torture whipped up his senses to a fine point of receptivity.
Through half-closed eyes he watched her full breasts leap and sway in their smooth, glossy skin; he felt her thighs warmly press into his loins as she came down, impaling herself on the cock.
He was getting more and more excited. A thrumming in his loins joined with a thrumming in his chest and ears.
Gina pressed harder and harder on him, giving him no respite, drawing herself right up above him, then crashing down again so that the movement made her stomach turn over. At the end of the downward stroke she ground her buttocks against him, squirming on him for a few seconds until gasps burst from his lips.
Occasionally his hands twitched out to her and managed to grasp and feebly squeeze her thighs or even reach to her breasts.
So furious was her youthful onslaught that she began to feel the excitement of culmination and forced herself to slow down the pace so as not, to lose any ferocity of attack until Randy was ready himself.
She could feel her loins swarming as if a thousand snakes were writhing inside. She released a stream of gasping cries, and he groaned agonizingly, clenching his fingers into her thighs.
He saw her face mistily, head thrown back, beautiful neck,, lips moving. His fingers dug into her fleshy thighs. He gasped deliciously.
Her nails dug into his shoulders. "Give it to me now," she begged. "Give me cock!"
He rose to meet her lips. Her hands seized his buttocks fiercely, jamming his hips against hers, and her legs twined around his, her heels digging into the backs of his ankles.
"You're so good to me," she gasped as he stuffed his cock into her, "so good."
Their bodies locked in passion, they began to fuck with mounting urgency. A thrill shot through Randy's body as Gina began to experiment with her hips. First, she rotated them in a widening circle, then abruptly she switched to a side-to-side motion, then to an up-and-down series of movements, giving Randy a different sensation each time.
Feverishly her tongue darted in his ear for a moment before it snaked into his mouth. As their tempo mounted, Gina groaned and dug her heels more fiercely into the backs of his ankles.
They reached orgasm together.
Her hot, pulsating body above his froze momentarily, at the precise instant Randy came. Afterward, she clung to him fiercely, continuing to rotate her hips as she whispered in his ear.
"It was so good," she crooned, "so fantastic. I could fuck forever. Just wait until we get back to your office. I'll make your coffee breaks something you'll never forget. And let me give you fair warning you'll never know when I'm going to lock that door and tear your clothes off and give you thirty minutes of the wildest intermission you've ever had in your life. That couch in your office looks like just the right size, too. I get so hot and wet inside when I think of it, you and I together on that soft leather couch, fucking like mad ... "
Randy felt a powerful surge of lust course through his body. Gina continued moving her hips, giving him fine prickles of sensation. Feeling her warm, moist vagina clutching him so possessively, Randy came to a decision.
There was no doubt that Sherry was exciting, even dynamic in bed. But compared to Gina, she was simply an echo of pleasure. Gina's body fit his as perfectly as if it were molded for him, and the mere sight of her luscious breasts and rounded, milky-white hips was enough to prime him instantly. Sherry was more talented and experienced, true, but Gina's enthusiasm and naive passion more than made up for that. Already, she had begun to discover how to use her body, proving that talent could be acquired. Being a bright girl, she would learn quickly, and endowed with a statuesque, tantalizing body, once she learned she would provide heights of pleasure Sherry could never approach.
Randy kneaded the flesh of Gina's succulent ass, torn between the strong desire to fuck her again and the cautious part of his nature, which told him to conserve his energy for the time being. He knew he could screw her twice more in succession if he wanted to, but they still had two nights to spend in the house. And there was no telling what might happen during that time.
A picture of Ava's half-closed eyes glittering with excitement flashed across his mind. Her body was thin and hard, but he'd known women with bodies like that who were superb in bed, making up for their lack of femininity by using skill and imagination.
Gina stirred beneath him.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked. "From the look on your face, it must be pretty interesting."
Randy grinned. "I was thinking, Gina, that a scholar is an unlucky man. He's cursed with too much curiosity."
"I can fix that," she said, her hand probing for his cock. The next moment he shivered with pleasure. There was no doubt about it. Gina learned very quickly.
Abruptly, he got off the bed and looked at his watch on the bedside table.
"It's almost dinnertime," he said. "We'd better get going."
Gina wrinkled her nose. "Who cares about food?"
"I don't know about you, but I've worked up a ravenous appetite. We'd better shower and get dressed. "
Gina stretched out on the bed and yawned, unaware that her voluptuous body was causing Randy a moment of tormented indecision.
She looked over at his naked body, her eyes widening. "My God, you are a hunk of man, aren't you? Lucky me!" she sighed.
She got off the bed and before he could stop her she'd knelt and took his cock into her mouth.
The next moment she stood up and casually walked over to the bed. She began dressing.
"That was so you'll remember me the next time you look at Sherry or Ava," she said, smiling.
Randy grabbed a towel and started toward the shower.
"Wait," said Gina. "Why don't we just shower together?"
"Because I have to share the bathroom with Sherry. You know how she is. She might just pop in without knocking."
"That's right," Gina sighed. "But don't you think it would be better if I was with you when she popped in?"
"I'm a big boy now. I can protect myself."
Gina tossed her head as she slipped into her dress. "I wonder." She came over to him and put her arms around him, rotating her soft belly against his. "See you later, darling."
Randy started to grab her, and she twisted out of his grasp laughing.
"From now on, I'm going to be hard to get. You're going to have to seduce me for a change. It's about time I stopped chasing you, and you started chasing me. Bye-bye."
He watched her go out the door, laughing softly. He went to the shower, thinking that as a rule he couldn't stand coyness in a woman, but Gina, at least, was perfectly justified. After all, she had done all the work up till now. And it was about time he started chasing her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At the dinner table, Randy was surprised to see Groton sitting there when he arrived, glaring around in a defiant, sullen manner.
"We're not formal around here," Ava explained. "There's no reason for Groton to eat in the kitchen just because he's the caretaker. After all, this is a democracy."
"I wholeheartedly agree," said Randy.
"So do I," said Sherry, "as long as we use the table for eating."
Ava shot her a sharp glance. "What do you mean by that?"
Sherry smiled in that catty way of hers. "Why, nothing, dear. You can use a table for whatever purpose you like. But I've noticed certain traces of ... ah ... shall we say love, on the kitchen table recently. I prefer beds myself," she added softly.
Ava's eyes flashed angrily. "You don't miss anything, to you, Sherry?"
She smiled sweetly, her angelic face as innocent as a child's. "I try not to, Ava."
Randy devoured his salad hungrily, listening to the exchange with amusement. More than once, he felt Gina's warm gaze on him. She looked fresh and radiant after her shower, her eyes shining with happiness, so much so that Sherry couldn't resist commenting on it.
"You look exceptionally happy about something tonight, Gina. Find the pot at the end of the rainbow?"
Gina stared at Randy, smiling. "I guess you could call it that."
Sherry's eyes turned to Randy. "I see what you mean. If I were you, Gina, I'd be careful. Someone might steal your precious treasure away."
"There's no danger of that," Gina said.
"Don't bet on it," said the blonde softly.
Randy spoke up. "As Gina said, there's no danger of that. I can vouch for the fact that a woman like Gina has no trouble holding on to anything that's hers."
Gina blushed at the compliment, smiling gratefully at Randy. Sherry's eyes narrowed. "I still wouldn't bet on it," she said.
Ava grinned with obvious pleasure at Sherry's discomfort. Her sharp voice cut like a blade. "It's too bad there aren't more men to go around. I guess this is the kind of situation that separates the girls from the women."
Sherry's eyes blazed, but before she could reply, Groton spoke up, to everyone's surprise.
"There wasn't no mess," he said in a surly voice. "There wasn't no mess at all on the kitchen table."
Sherry turned to him. "How do you know?"
Groton thrust his face in hers. "'Cause I cleaned it up, that's why!"
They all burst out laughing, even Ava. Groton looked around, puzzled.
"What in hell's so funny?"
"Don't be a clod, Groton," said Ava. "Eat your dinner."
Groton resumed gnawing on the piece of fried thicken. he held in both grimy hands, his head bowed over his plate, his elbows making a protective circle around his food, as though guarding it against invaders. He ate with loud smacks of gusto, pausing occasionally to wipe his chin with the back of his hand.
"Don't bother to use a napkin, Groton," said Sherry. "They're only for decorative purposes."
"If Groton wants to eat like a real man, that's his business," Ava said. "To hell with all the little niceties. I like to see someone enjoying their food."
"Even at the risk of getting more on his shirt than in his stomach?" retorted Sherry.
Gina interrupted with a sigh. "Don't you two ever stop going at each other's throats?"
"It's only a game," said Sherry. "We even played it when we were children. I always win," she added in a sly voice.
"This is one time you won't, let me assure you," said Ava, her sharp features suggesting some secret weapon.
"I hate to interrupt this pleasant conversation," Randy said, "but I'd like to ask some questions." He turned to Sherry. "Are you certain you've never discovered any hidden passageways in the house when you were a child? You must have done a lot of playing in the house. Children are natural explorers."
"I told you earlier, I found nothing. And I never did any exploring. That was Ava's favorite pastime. Especially if there were any boys in the vicinity."
"How about it, Ava?" asked Randy.
Her eyes narrowed. "Have you discovered one?"
"No," Randy lied. "That's why I'm asking."
Ava's hard face relaxed. "I never found anything, either. I've seen the original blueprints of the house, and they don't show anything other than the actual rooms. So I suppose that settles it. There aren't any."
Randy turned back to Sherry. "Have you ever done any modeling?"
Sherry' grinned. "Only in private sessions for special friends. Would you like to sketch me? I'd be more than happy to model for you without a fee."
"He's already booked up in advance," Gina cut in hotly. "And don't forget it."
"Specifically," continued Randy, ignoring Gina's outburst, "I meant modeling for sculpture. A statue, perhaps."
He watched her reaction sharply. A frown appeared on her smooth forehead. "No, never. Not even for any sketches, actually. I suppose my idea of modeling is different than yours. I've never done it professionally, if that's what you mean."
Ava's voice cut in sharply. "Why do you ask that?"
"Curiosity," said Randy, "that's all. I was thinking of doing some sketches. It's a hobby of mine."
"And what's the matter with Gina's equipment?" asked Ava suspiciously. "She looks like she's got more than enough."
"The hell I have," Gina said. "I've got just the right amount."
"I've already sketched Gina. As she said, she's got just the right amount. But I'm looking for variety."
"I can give you plenty of that," Sherry offered.
Randy decided it was time to change the subject before a free-for-all brawl ensued.
"Tonight," he said, "I don't want anyone to leave the house, or do anything unusual. Just keep to your normal routine as though I weren't even here. If you spend the evening watching television, then watch television. If you usually go to bed early, then be sure and do it tonight. But don't deviate from your customary pattern. That's important. Is this clear to everyone?"
They all nodded assent, except Groton, who was absorbed with a drumstick.
"Is that clear, Groton?"
Groton looked up. "Is what clear?"
"Don't worry," Ava broke in, "I'll see that he follows instructions."
"Funny," murmured Sherry, "how Groton won't take orders from anyone except Ava. I'll bet he gets some awfully interesting orders, too."
"Wasn't no damn mess on the kitchen table," Groton said, through a mouthful of chicken. "Always clean it up."
Talk about a one-track mind, Randy thought. Still, he had to admit Groton was ideal for someone like Ava. Not too bright, with a generous portion of muscles, willing to take orders without question, she probably used him to his full limitations, squeezing him dry and then waiting only long enough for his body to regenerate so she could squeeze him dry again. Probably an ideal existence for both of them.
"How are you going to go about investigating our elusive ghosts?" Ava asked.
"Simple observation," Randy replied. "It's just a matter of waiting and watching and listening. Sooner or later, we'll trap one."
"How do you trap a ghost?" asked Sherry. "With a net?"
"If they're real ghosts, of course we can't trap them. But if they're phony, we'll snare them, don't worry."
Ava suddenly stood up. "I'd better get started on the dishes. If you need me for anything, Professor, I'll be in the kitchen. Come along, Groton."
She took two armfuls of dishes and went toward the kitchen, followed by Groton.
"I can't get over that man's appetite," said Gina. "I swear I saw him eat four helpings of chicken."
Sherry stood up, grinning. "Groton gets more than his share of exercise, believe me. Don't be deceived by Ava's tiny body. She's a man-eating tiger on the inside. Isn't that right, Doctor?"
Gina turned a surprised face in Randy's direction.
"I suppose so," he said noncommittally. He decided then that the petite blonde might be a very pleasant companion in bed, but the prospect of being with her constantly could be very wearing on his nerves. Her sharp tongue always found its target.
"I'll be in the library watching television," Sherry said. "The reception is lousy up here, but it's about the only pastime we bachelor girls have. Until bedtime," she added, with a grin at Randy.
She left the dining room, walking in a deliberately sexy manner to display her ample, round ass.
"Well," said Gina with a sigh, "I'll give her credit for one thing. She doesn't beat around the bush when she wants something. She's a hot little cunt, to? What did she mean by that crack about Ava?"
"When you took that short nap this afternoon, Ava made a pass at me. She was rather ... ah ... forceful about it."
Gina shot a baleful glance at the kitchen. "Well, that bitch! Imagine, trying to rape you in my room. Of all the nerve ... "
"She can't help herself," said Randy. "She has a type of illness that torments her body with constant excitement."
Gina's eyebrows raised. "Nymphomania?"
Randy nodded. "I'm pretty sure of it. So I can't really blame her for trying."
"I guess not," said Gina. "Poor Groton. To think that a tiny creature like Ava is sapping that big hunk of man dry. He's like a slave to her."
"This may surprise you, but my guess is they're very happy together. Groton doesn't have the type of mentality that would interfere with his male functions, so he's sort of a machine to her a willing, thoughtless machine that gratifies her incessant demands. No normal man could satisfy an oversexed woman like Ava, but Groton is just perfect. In return, she takes care of him with a steady job."
The lights in the house dimmed for a second, and Gina glanced up nervously. "What was that?"
"Probably just the television switching on. The wiring in this house is old."
Gina stood up. "God, if the lights go out, I don't want to be alone. Where are you going now?"
"I'm going to search Ava's room while she's busy in the kitchen. Want to come along?"
Gina grabbed his hand. "Just try leaving me behind."
As they went up the staircase, Gina asked, "Why are you searching Ava's room and not Sherry's? Especially after seeing that statue today."
"I've got a hunch Ava knows more about it than Sherry. Don't ask me why, because it's pure instinct, but I believe Sherry is sincere and knows nothing about that hidden passageway or the love nest. I studied Ava's reactions tonight, and I'm convinced she knows about it."
They turned at the top of the stairs, walking softly. "What do you expect to find?" Gina asked.
"A key perhaps. I'm dying of curiosity to know what lies beyond that padlocked room."
Ava's door was unlocked. They slipped into the darkness of her room and closed the door before Randy switched on the lights.
When Gina saw the mirrors everywhere, she gasped, "What do you suppose she does this for?"
Randy grinned. "I'll give you one guess."
Gina nodded. "I get it. I'd say it has something to do with her nymphomania, that she gets a sort of double excitement out of seeing herself and her partner at the same time." Gina ran her tongue along her lips as she glanced at the mirror over the bed. "Frankly, it looks pretty wild."
"Down to business," said Randy crisply. He went over to a chest of drawers and pulled the top one out. It was filled with Ava's under things. Gina made an exclamation and pulled out a pair of authentic, leopard-skin panties and a matching bra.
"She may not show much on the surface, but that girl knows how to dress where it counts. Expensive stuff."
The second drawer was filled with similar things. As he rummaged around, Randy's fingers felt a piece of cardboard and he pulled it out. It was a snapshot of a man. Gina peered over his shoulder.
"That's-that's the man in the statue making love to Sherry," she said. "But what's Ava doing with the picture?"
Randy shook his head and put the snapshot back in the drawer. "I'll have to ask Ava that. I wonder if there are any similar pictures in Sherry's room ... "
"I have an idea," Gina said. "I'll go search Sherry's room while you're searching this one. We'll meet later in your room and pool our findings."
"Good girl. Be careful, though."
"Don't worry, I will. If anything happens, you'll hear my scream."
She slipped out the door and closed it softly behind her. Randy went back to the chest of drawers. In the bottom drawer was an exotic collection of gold and silver-sequined panties, and an odd assortment of pasties pointed nipple-covers used in show business by strippers. He decided she probably wore them for her own amusement and titillation.
He went over to the closet and found an expensive-looking collection of boots and high spike heels. He stood there for a minute, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, trying to put himself in Ava's place. Where would she hide a key?
He went over to the bed and threw back the covers. The sheets were black satin. He felt under each pillow, finding nothing, and started to reach beneath the mattress when a sharp voice behind him snapped, "Lose something, Doctor?"
He whirled around, startled. Ava stood there, her thin face pale with anger. She closed the door and turned the key, locking it. "What did you expect to find, anyway?"
Randy's face reddened with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I have no right to be here, actually. If you want to know, I was snooping."
"That's obvious. Looking for what?"
"Anything that might throw a light on what's been happening around here. I've got a feeling you're not telling me everything you know."
She came over to him, her eyes running hungrily up and down his powerful frame. "If I told you everything I know, we'd be stuck in this room for three days and nights. Not that it's such a bad idea."
"You know what I mean," said Randy hastily. "You're hiding something. And I believe Groton's in with you somehow."
Her eyes began to glitter again with that peculiar light he'd seen last time. "You knocked me out this afternoon, Doctor. Not a gentlemanly thing to do at all, was it?"
"Sorry, Ava, but you were like a wild animal. As silly as it sounds, I was merely protecting myself."
She laughed. "Against my ninety-three pounds? Aren't you the brave one." She went over to the chest of drawers, and opened the top one. "Did you search this dresser, too?" she asked, her back to him as she rummaged around.
"Yes. I found a snapshot of a man. I'd like to know ... "
The sentence froze on his lips as she whirled around. She pointed a revolver directly at his stomach.
"You overlooked this. Not a very good detective, are you?"
"Now just one minute," Randy began, watching the gun cautiously. "That might be loaded. I'll leave quietly if you'll just give me the key." He held out his hand.
Ava tossed her head back and laughed. "You'll leave like hell, my friend. Just the opposite. This gun isn't to scare you away. It's to keep you here. And this time you aren't going to clip me on the jaw."
Randy licked his lips nervously. "If you'll just give me the key, Ava ... "
She grinned. She took the key and slid it inside her skirt and down into her panties.
"Come and get it, baby," she said. Her sharp features were taut with excitement as she came back over to him.
"Reach in and take it out. I won't stop you. Let's see how much nerve you have."
"Don't be foolish, Ava. And be careful with that gun, please."
Her eyes were raking over his body with a voracious hunger. "Take off your clothes," she said. He hesitated, and she prodded him with the gun. "Off, Doctor. Snap to it. Let's see what the action looks like."
Randy shrugged helplessly, and took off his jacket. He unbuttoned his shirt, watching her sharp white teeth sink into her lower lip when she spied his bare, muscular chest. The strange light in her eyes grew fiercer, and Randy sensed that for all practical purposes Ava was a totally different person when she became excited, completely incapable of reason. He took off his shirt and put it with his jacket over a chair.
"Hot shit," she hissed, "now that's what I call a build. Not sloppy like Groton, but nice and trim. Boy, are we going to have a hot time. I knew the minute I saw you that we were going to swing sooner or later, and swing we will, baby." She circled her lips with her tongue, the predatory hunger on her face reminding him of a hawk spotting its prey.
"Off with the pants," she snapped. "I like to know exactly what I've got to work with. You might call me an efficiency expert in my field. C'mon, what're you waiting for?"
He grappled once more, trying to use reason.
"What satisfaction can you possibly get out of forcing me to fuck you?" he asked. "What kind of conquest is it when you have a gun on your partner?"
"Gun, shit, you talk like an old man. Just get those pants off. As for the satisfaction I'm going to get, you just wouldn't believe it. After it's over, you can go home and write a book about it for all I care, all about how you were raped at gunpoint. Call it My Dreadful Experience. Just get the pants off."
Randy took off his pants. Would Professor Coleman or Harris or any of his other colleagues ever believe him if he told how he was trapped in a room with a sex maniac and raped at gunpoint? Not a chance in a million.
"Good, good," she said. "Now the skivvies. Just pretend you're in a nudist colony. Don't be bashful."
Randy slipped out of his drawers and stood before her, completely naked.
"Holy fuck," she murmured. "You're a man, all right. Compared to you, Groton is a boy. Now you just stand there and behave yourself while I get undressed. No tricks," she warned, "when I lay this gun down. I can reach it a lot faster than you."
She stood by the dresser, putting the gun down on it. Keeping her eyes on him not so much out of caution, he realized, but more out of a driving impatience she proceeded to undress rapidly, wriggling out of her panties as though they were on fire. Naked, she wasn't nearly as bony as she looked with clothes on. In fact, she was gracefully slender with neat little breasts, a tiny waist and delicately curved hips.
Looking at her, Randy felt a hot stab of desire shoot through his body. There was something intense about her small body that communicated to him, a kind of furious drive that seemed vibrate from her bare white flesh.
"Turn around," she commanded, still staying by the dresser. He did as he was told, and a minute later she said, "All right, Doctor, you can face me now."
When he turned back, he immediately noticed the gun was nowhere to be seen. "I hid the gun," she said, "and the key, too. And believe me, you'll never find them without my help. The only way you'll get the key is to earn it."
She came up to him, her eyes feverish, her nostrils flaring, her slender, pale body tensed for sex.
"Earn it," she whispered. The next moment her hands had seized him expertly, stroking, massaging, rubbing, taking complete command of his will power.
"Oh, God," she murmured, working furiously with her hands, "how I love it, I've always loved cock, I always will, I can't help it."
She suddenly rammed her hot, small mouth against his, biting his lower lip, snaking her tongue in and out rapidly, still gripping his body in her eager hands.
Whatever control Randy had dissolved completely. His flesh responded instantly with a will of its own. He gripped her small, compact ass in his hands and squeezed, meeting her fiery little tongue with his, dimly aware that urgent, animal sounds were coming from her throat. Her hands suddenly released their grip and she thrust her small hips against his, grinding them frantically.
"The bed," she gasped, "quick, quick!"
She led him frantically to the bed and jumped on it, her legs upraised in a second, her back already arched, her head thrashing from side to
side in a frenzy. Before he was on top of her, she gripped him and guided his cock into her.
"Ahhh," she crooned, "I love it, love it."
Her slender body squirmed beneath him, vibrated, shivered as though it were going to explode. She was extremely small, and for a moment he thought he was hurting her, from her sounds of anguish, but she dispelled that notion by a violent thrust of her cunt, an impatient command that she wanted all of him.
"Oh, yes, yes," she chanted, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as he complied, her hands clawing his back.
He bashed his cock into her pelvis. He didn't want to take long now. His penis was heavy and prickling, and Ava, her face creased in passion, increased the fury of the fuck.
Randy lowered his face onto hers and kissed her lips, her thin neck as he seared up into her tight gripping vagina. He wriggled in and in until his whole cock, from throbbing knob to tingling base, was buried in Ava's soft female passage.
He fucked her furiously with quick, hard strokes. He couldn't take too much time he had to have that final, world-shattering explosion.
He put his hand under her buttocks. Her rump was firm and springy. The feel of it sent a new zest winging through his hot ramrod. He pulled her up against him and looked down at her belly which he could see, dimly white in the darkness. He could also see his weapon, dimly white, moving into the cranny at her thigh-juncture.
He held her buttocks tightly. Each stroke now as if he was bursting into her for the first time. He gritted his teeth and fixed his eyes on her dim face, turned sideways.
He burst in and in, and with each burst he felt the moment edge excruciatingly nearer. He was trying to keep his noises back in his throat. He was coughing and growling, trying not to lose control. He felt the last movement in his loins. It was joy and beauty and savagery all combined in his screwing into this firm and beautiful body. He squeezed the buttocks in his hands as he thrust, and his thrusts slowed to grinding heaves. He was losing control. It was heaven. It was hell. He couldn't keep it back. It was coming, coming, into the body of this strange girl whose ass was in his hands. It was coming ... whirling ...
"Aaaaaah!" The final cry groaned from his throat, forcing his lips apart and he flopped and bit Ava's strained neck.
"Home," she cried, "I'm home. Belong ... here ... forever ... "
A moment later, Randy sagged limply against her.
"Again," she commanded, raising her knees and locking her feet behind his back. "Again."
"Impossible."
"Again, again, again," she chanted, as if there were a kind of magic in the phrase that would turn him into a machine.
"Sorry, but I can't."
"Oh, yes, you can," she murmured. "You've got to. I go nuts if I don't have it twice in a row. Once is only an appetizer. It whets my hunger."
"I'm sure you're aware of this," said Randy with a sigh, "but I'll tell you anyway. Biologically, I'm constructed differently from you. I have to have a period of rest before I can regenerate my cells. Women don't have that problem."
Her hand gripped his cock. "Don't give me that shit. You can, but you don't want to. You're saving yourself for that secretary of yours. She can live without you for one night, but I can't. It's a simple matter of distribution."
"I'm telling you the truth, Ava. I simply can't."
She searched his face with penetrating eyes.
Finally, she sighed. "All right, I think you're telling the truth. You've been fucking that secretary of yours all day, I can see that much."
"The key," said Randy.
"Under the cloth cover on top of the dresser."
He lifted the cover and found it. He glanced over at Ava. She was staring at her reflection in the mirrored ceiling, her eyes glazed, her lips parted. He remembered she'd stared at the ceiling most of the time he'd been fucking her. From the way she was gazing at her reflection and grinding her hips, he knew she was in the process of fucking herself now.
He went to the door and unlocked it, leaving the key in place, and slipped out while she was absorbed. So intently was she gaping at her own image that he was sure she'd forgotten about him by then. Out in the hallway, he took a deep breath and wiped his forehead, feeling like a trapped mouse that had narrowly escaped its fate.
He went to his own room, thinking that if he felt relief for himself, he felt something even more for Groton. Sheer pity.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Inside his own room, Gina sat patiently waiting on the bed.
"What took you so long?" she asked. "I've been waiting nearly fifteen minutes."
"There was a slight delay," he said, wincing at the still-fresh memory of Ava's thrashing, demanding body.
When he got closer to Gina, she stood up and peered at his face with concern. "God! You look as if an army trampled over you. Did you have a fight with Groton?"
"No." That would have been getting off easy, he thought. "Nothing happened, really. What did you find in Sherry's room?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. Not a single thing that you might call incriminating or suspicious. She's just a normal, healthy, wholesome girl, from the looks of her things. Except for a few tantalizing under things," she added, "but they're mild compared to Ava's. What about you? Find anything else?"
"Nothing except that snapshot. Come to think of it, I wish I'd taken it, now. Maybe Sherry would recognize the man. In fact, she'd have to since they both modeled for that statue."
"Why don't you go back and get it?" asked Gina.
"No," Randy said quickly. "I mean, it's not that important. I've got an idea, though."
Gina's lovely face grew curious. "What is it?"
"I think I'll find Sherry and take her into that passageway. If she's faced with that thing, she'll have to come forward with an explanation."
Gina nodded. "Sounds reasonable. Let's go."
Randy held up a hand. "Wait. I don't think you ought to come along. Sherry is too competitive where other women are concerned. She might refuse to cooperate or divulge anything if you're with us. You wait in your own room for us."
Gina shook her head stubbornly. "Oh no. I'm not going to spend another night in that room. Not since that ... that thing this afternoon. I'll wait downstairs in the library and watch television."
"Come on, then," said Randy.
Gina followed close on his heels as he left his room and went down the staircase. At the bottom, he told Gina, "Wait for me in the library. I'm going to get some candles in case the flashlight burns out. I don't relish the prospect of being stuck in that passageway without any light."
Gina nodded and went in the direction of the library. For a moment Randy stood there, watching her graceful, erect carriage, the smooth curve of her firm hips and beautiful long legs, appreciating her more than ever since his recent, unwilling tryst with Ava. When she disappeared into the library, he went over to the kitchen door and knocked once before entering.
Groton was alone in the kitchen, his perpetual scowl applied to the dish he was drying.
He looked up at Randy suspiciously. "What do you want in here?"
"Don't worry, I didn't come to examine the kitchen table," Randy said dryly. "I want some candles."
"For what?"
"I'm going to hold a midnight mass."
Groton's scowl deepened with perplexity. "In this house?"
Randy sighed. "Just give me some candles, Groton."
Groton shuffled over to a cabinet, took out a few tapered candles and brought them over to Randy. "I ain't supposed to do anything without getting an okay first from Ava," he said. "But I guess she wouldn't mind."
Randy took the candles and thanked him. He started to leave when a sudden thought struck him. He turned to Groton, an expression of authority on his face.
"Let me see your ring of keys, Groton."
The other man took a step back. "For what?"
Randy snapped his fingers. "Never mind the reason. Let's have them."
"Can't do it unless Ava says so," he muttered. "Orders."
"Ava won't object, I assure you," said Randy smoothly. "Let's see them."
Groton hesitated, intimidated by Randy's calm air of command. His simple mind struggled between the fear of Ava's sharp tongue and Randy's forceful personality.
"Well?" Randy barked.
Unable to cope with such a complicated struggle, Groton gave in. He unhooked the ring of keys from his belt and handed them to Randy
Taking each key in turn, Randy studied !hem carefully. They were all large door keys. None of them would fit the padlock on the room in the passageway. He gave the ring back to Groton.
"Those are all the keys you have?" he asked.
Groton turned away. "That's all. No more." He went back to his dishes, his face sullen and hostile. Randy sensed the man was lying, but knew that any attempt to make him admit it would be wasted.
Taking the candles, he left the kitchen and went through the empty dining room and across the wide expanse of floor to the library. He swung open the massive door without knocking anti walked in. The room was dark except for the television blaring away in a corner. Sherry's small body was curled up in a large chair facing the TV, her face ghostly in the reflected light.
"Where's Gina?" asked Randy.
"Powder room," Sherry said. She patted the space beside her on the leather chair. "Have a seat and rest your weary ass."
"Not right now. I want you to come with me. There's something I want to show you. Something important."
She grinned up at him. "There's only one thing I consider important, as you've undoubtedly learned."
"Not that," said Randy hastily. "This is business."
Sherry stretched and yawned, her skirt rising in the process to show her silky crotch. She put out her hands. "Pull me up."
He lifted her easily, and she pushed against him deliberately, squirming her cunt against his cock provocatively. "We didn't finish our lessons this afternoon," she murmured.
For the first time Randy found himself wondering if Sherry were related by blood to Ava. The two had a great deal in common. Despite his wild sex session with Ava a few minutes earlier, Randy found Sherry's soft body a pleasantly exciting contrast after Ava's hard, grinding cunt.
"Not now," he said firmly. "Come with me."
"This something," she said as they left the library, "does it explain in any way the weird things that have been happening.
"Not directly, but I've got a hunch it ties in somehow. You'll see in a minute."
As they went up the staircase, they met Ava coming down. Her face was cool and composed, as if nothing had happened to disrupt her serenity. She shot a smoldering glance at Randy as she passed them.
"No rest for the wicked?" she murmured with a smile.
Sherry looked after her. "What did she mean by that? She's got that bitchy, I-know-something-you-don't-know look on her face, too."
"Beats me."
Sherry followed him into his room, watching curiously as he felt beneath the fireplace and it began to swing open. Sherry gasped.
"When did you discover that?"
"This afternoon, by accident, really. You're sure you never knew about it?" He watched her reaction carefully.
"Never!" she said with genuine surprise. "Mother must have known. I wonder why she never told me ... "
"There's a bigger surprise inside." He stuck the candles Groton had given him into his pockets and got his flashlight. "Let's go," he said.
CHAPTER NINE
They crouched and entered the damp, gloomy passageway. Once inside, the fireplace began to swing shut and Sherry cried out.
"It's automatic. Don't be frightened. There's nothing in here that can hurt you." Mentally, he crossed his fingers.
Her hand clutched his and her nails dug into his palm as they made progress down the passageway. A minute later the flashlight lit up the skull hanging on the door. Sherry screamed.
"I should have warned you," he said. "It's plastic, placed there to intimidate any intruders who might have stumbled in here by mistake. Come on."
He swung open the door and led Sherry to a table in the center of the room. He took two candles from his pocket and lit them, using wax drippings to hold them securely on the table. They cast eerie, flickering shadows over the room. When Sherry saw the statue, she sucked in her breath. Randy shone the flashlight full on its face.
"Recognize her?" he asked.
"Mother!" Sherry gasped. "It's Mother."
"Your mother? I thought it was you. The resemblance is uncanny."
"She was about my age then. It's a beautiful piece of sculpture. I wonder who did it."
"Don't you recognize the man's face?" Randy shone the beam on the other statue's face.
Sherry chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment. "No, I don't. But there's something familiar about him ... "
"Funny. That's what I thought, too. Let me show you the rest of the room. Tell me if you recognize anything."
He led her over to the paintings on the walls.
"They're beautiful," she said. "I've never seen them before. They're sexy, aren't they?"
"They're pretty candid, but they've got a great deal of artistic merit."
"Are they valuable?"
"Quite valuable, if I'm any judge. I wonder why your mother concealed them here?"
"To hide them from Father, I suppose. He wasn't a very passionate man, from what she told me. A bluenose, really. What's behind those drapes?"
"Another surprise. Come on." He led her to the drapes and pulled them back. Sherry let out an exclamation at the sight of the luxurious garments.
"Wow! She really had a collection, didn't she? Mother must have been quite a siren from the looks of it. And they're all my size."
"They're Ava's size, too," Randy said thoughtfully, remembering the exotic under things in her dresser drawers.
"But they're Mother's. Some of them are pretty old. She must have had them chemically treated to preserve them over the years like this." Sherry looked over at the bed. "It's a regular sex nest, isn't it?" Sherry sighed. "And I always thought she was one of those quiet, mousy types. I can't help wondering who the lucky man was, though ... "
"Ava might be able to tell us," Randy said. "If we can get her to talk."
"What do you mean?"
"The man in the statue. I found his snapshot in Ava's drawer earlier this evening."
Sherry looked around the room. "Do you think she knows about this room?"
"I'd bet on it, but getting her to admit it is a different story." He went over to the padlocked door. "If only I could get in here ... I've got a hunch we'll find a lot of answers beyond this door. Do you know if there's a pair of bolt-cutters on the premises.
"What are bolt-cutters?"
"Sort of heavy pliers that can cut through steel like scissors cutting paper."
Sherry shook her head. "I don't know. Groton would, though. But he wouldn't give them to you without Ava's consent. She's got him tied around her little finger."
"Could you get them from him?"
Sherry smiled. "You mean by persuasion? I doubt it. Groton's like a child. His loyalty to Ava is absolute. Besides, frankly I wouldn't even try. Groton's not my idea of a lover." She stepped close to Randy, her tongue circling her lips. "But you are. God, I'm cold," she said, suddenly shivering. "It's awfully drafty in here. Could you hold me for just a minute before we go back? Warm me up?"
He put his arms around her. She snuggled her petite body against his. Despite her complaint, her skin felt very warm, almost hot.
"My hands, too," she said, sliding them inside his shirt. "Mmmmm, that's better." For a minute he held her, keenly aware of the throbbing pressure of her hips as she thrust them against him in an increasing rhythm. He couldn't help contrasting her warmth and softness to Ava's cold, hard body remembering, too, that Sherry had fantastic muscular powers in her golden thighs.
"I think we'd better be going back," he said. "Gina's alone in the library. If anything should happen while we're gone ... "
"Oh, shit," Sherry said, snuggling against him closer. "Gina's a big girl. She can take care of herself. Besides, I'm still cold. If I told you where I was coldest, would you believe me?"
"Try me."
"Right here," she said. She took Randy's hands and slid them under her dress and inside her panties, around her firm little ass. "Rub them, would you, honey? That'll help the circulation. Ah, like that. Mmmmm, that's better."
Randy kneaded the flesh with his hands, their satiny texture bringing back vivid memories of their sexual experience earlier that afternoon. He didn't think it was possible for his body to respond so quickly, especially after his grueling session with Ava, but he felt his cock straining powerfully. Sensing it, Sherry moaned softly.
"Rub harder," she whispered.
He complied, and her breath began coming in gasps. Her hands were exploring his body beneath his clothes with eagerness, seeking out his erogenous zones and caressing with skillful pressure and stroking gestures.
"I think we ought to start back."
She cut his sentence off by suddenly jamming her hot, moist mouth to his, darting her tongue inside. Her urgency was so contagious that a moment later he was carrying her over to the bed, one hand already tugging at her skirt before he put her down.
"Wait," she gasped. He released her. In less than a minute she'd wriggled out of her clothes, soft, animal whimpers of impatience coming from her throat. In the pale, flickering light of the candles, her small body beckoned, her legs upraised, the soft contours of her belly and thighs, the molded mound of her cunt, causing him to tremble as he fumbled with his pants.
"Hurry," she panted. "God, am I hot for it."
A few seconds later his bare cock met her moist, eager cunt and she groaned. He mounted her without any foreplay, knowing that any time wasted trying to excite her further would only torture her and frustrate his own sexual urgency.
Her teeth sank into his shoulder as he slid into her pussy. A second later, excruciating pleasure shot throughout his body as she began pumping her legs, rubbing her hot cunt against his plunging cock. In conjunction, her hips began their expert gyrations, first in a circle, then left and right, giving him the maximum fuck possible from each series of motions.
"How do you ... like ... that?" she gasped, jerking her hips to the far right, then quickly to the far left.
"And ... this" she panted, shimmying her torso in a rapid, vibrating manner like a hula dancer.
Randy responded by grasping one of her nipples firmly between his lips and circling it hard with his tongue.
"Bite," she groaned, trying to ram her entire, luscious little breast in his mouth. "Bite it."
He did, taking care not to hurt her, and she moaned with delight. He was aware that because of his earlier activities with Gina and Ava, he was able to fuck Sherry for a considerably longer time than he'd expected. It began to seem that he could keep screwing indefinitely, pounding her with a steady, relentless beat that brought her rapidly to orgasm, yet keeping his own pleasure on a level plateau, without letting himself come.
Twice her body shuddered and froze momentarily, and when she saw he was still with her, pacing her with his tireless drive, she began to use every trick she knew to make him come hard.
"Remember this," she murmured, giving a lingering muscular contraction of her vagina that made him grit his teeth with the mixture of pain and pleasure, "and this," she whispered, arching her body upward in a violent thrust that made his cock ride fully into her, sticking against her sucking cervix.
As they continued to screw, she began to let out a series of sharp cries that startled him at first with their intensity. When he realized that he wasn't hurting her, but that she was simply giving vent the depth of her lust, he let out a sigh of relief.
As the frenzied, slick buttocks squirmed end wriggled in his hands, he finally felt the steady level of pleasure begin to rise sharply in his cock. And, as his pace quickened, Sherry urged him on with every fiber of her throbbing, frantic cunt, pleading with him, begging him to join her in her last blazing orgasm, unable to bear any further ecstasy after that.
He felt the quivering begin in her body, a kind of humming sensation that vibrated from her cunt
"NOW!" she screamed.
'I can go on like this all night,' he thought. 'I can fuck for hours if I want to.'
Torn for a moment between selfishness and surrender, he hesitated. He could have easily come simply by letting go of his control, by giving way to Sherry's searing, demanding cunt. Or he could have maintained his pace, clinging to that even plateau of pleasure, just below the rim of ecstasy.
"God, come now," she pleaded.
Randy took a deep breath and let his nuts go. An electrifying flash shot through his entire body then slowly, like a machine grinding to a gradual halt, his movements subsided.
"Never again," Sherry moaned.
"What?"
"I said, never again. You're too much man for me. I hate to admit it. I don't think I can screw like that anymore. Poor little Sherry has had her pussy battered for good."
"Sorry," mumbled Randy, feeling confused. He started to draw away from her, and she clutched at him.
"Well, maybe once more," she sighed.
"You were right the first time," he said "Besides, we've got to get back. Things may have already started to happen."
Reluctantly, Sherry released him. They dressed in the soft light of the candles, Sherry pausing every few seconds to let out a long sigh.
"Is something the matter?" Randy asked.
"Just remembering," she said with a grin. When they were dressed, Randy switched on the flashlight and started toward the door.
"Wait," Sherry said.
He turned around. She was staring at the paintings on the walls. "Is all this mine?" she asked with a sweeping gesture of her hand that included the statue.
"According to your mother's will, it is. Unless someone pops up with a legal deed that proves otherwise, the entire house and all its contents is yours. That includes anything on the premises of the grounds, meaning this room and any other secret rooms that might be hidden away."
"And you think it's worth a lot?"
"A fortune, I'd say. Conservatively speaking. Why do you ask?"
She came over to him. Her face was earnest as she stared up at him.
"Then as a wealthy woman, I feel it's my duty to ask you to marry me. And don't laugh, either. You're the first man I ever proposed to, and I'm dead serious."
"That's very sweet of you, Sherry. I'm flattered, but frankly, I've got other plans."
"If you should change your mind, look me up, Doctor. The offer stands until I get married to someone else. Or until you do," she added.
"I'll keep it in mind." He went over to the candles and blew them out, first giving a long, thoughtful stare to the heavy, padlocked door a few feet away.
Sherry held onto his hand as they went out into the passageway and carefully retraced their steps. A few feet from the fireplace, Randy felt a brick give slightly. The fireplace slowly creaked open, and they crouched through it and entered his room again.
"Well," Sherry said with a sigh as the fireplace shut, "that's one experience I won't forget for a long time."
"It must be quite a shock after all these years to discover your own mother's love nest, I suppose."
"That's an experience, too," Sherry said, smiling, "but I wasn't referring to that. And I always thought professors were old codgers who never thought about anything except books!"
"We're only human," he said. Sherry followed him into the hallway and down the staircase.
"Looks like everything's been quiet while we were gone," Sherry said.
Randy thought about the padlocked door. "That doesn't surprise me. I have a feeling things will start happening soon, though."
They walked into the library. Gina sat there alone, watching television. She shot a sharp glance at Sherry.
"Where did you two disappear to?" she asked.
"I showed Sherry the passageway," said Randy, answering for them. "And it's turned out that that statue is not of Sherry."
Gina frowned. "Who else could it possibly be?"
"My mother," Sherry said. "And her lover. The man isn't my father."
Sherry flopped down into a chair, her forehead furrowed. "I wonder ... "
"What?" Randy asked.
"I was just wondering whether the man in the statue could be the artist who painted those pictures. And did the sculpture, too."
"Could be," Randy said. "Only Ava seems to know."
"Know what?" Ava's sharp voice echoed from the doorway.
"It seems that our happy castle is a labyrinth of secret passageways," Sherry said. "Randy has just shown me one of them a very interesting room. Did you know Mother had a love nest hidden away in the house?"
Ava walked slowly into the library and sat down, lighting a cigarette before she replied in a cool. voice. "No, I didn't know. What else did you discover?"
"That's all so far," said Randy. "Perhaps you can tell us the identity of the man in that snapshot I found in your drawer earlier."
"What snapshot?" Ava asked innocently.
"The one in your dresser drawer," Randy said, eyeing her narrowly. "The one I found earlier beneath your clothes. The man in that snapshot is the same man in the statue we've found in a hidden room. The statue is depicted making love to Sherry's mother."
"In the statue, I presume, not the photo," Ava retorted dryly. "Furthermore, I don't know what you're babbling about a snapshot. I don't have any snapshots, period. I don't keep pictures. I'm not the sentimental type."
"You're lying," Gina said. "I was with Randy when he found it. I saw it, too."
"In the first place," Ava said calmly, "as strangers, you have no right to snoop into my personal belongings. In the second place, I never had such a snapshot. Perhaps, Gina, you'd like to go take another look in my drawer."
"I wouldn't waste my time. I'd bet a fifty-dollar bill against those exotic, leopard-skin panties of yours that the snapshot is no longer in your drawer."
"No bet," said Ava. She turned to Randy. "How did you manage to find this passageway?"
"My fireplace swung open by accident," Randy said. "I've got a hunch there are other passageways in the house, as well as hidden rooms."
Ava stood up, yawning. "Well, it's all pretty fascinating, but, frankly, I'm tired. It's been a hectic day. I think I'll run along to bed. Pleasant ghost hunting, Professor. See you all in the morning."
Sherry watched Ava leave before she spoke. "She's lying. I can always tell when Ava's lying. A fairly frequent event."
"I'm going to speak to Groton," Randy said. "You two stick together until I return, in case anything unusual starts happening." Randy handed Gina his flashlight. "Just in case the lights go out."
"What makes you think that'll happen?" Sherry asked.
Randy's voice was dry when he replied. "Something tells me our local ghosts prefer to work in the dark. Just say it's a hunch."
He left the library and went to the kitchen, walking in without knocking. Groton was sitting at the kitchen table, eating leftover chicken, his arm curled around his plate in the primitive manner of a caveman. From the way he was wolfing down the food, Randy had a sudden suspicion that poor Groton had had a very recent workout sexual in nature.
Without pausing, Groton asked, "What do you want this time?"
"Is there a pair of bolt-cutters around, Groton?"
He stopped chewing, his forehead wrinkling with the unaccustomed exertion of thinking. "What do you want 'em for?" he asked finally.
"There are some old tire-chains in my car I want to cut up. I need the links for a scientific purpose."
The answer was sufficiently confusing to stop Groton from asking further questions, but the suspicion in his eyes remained. "No bolt-cutters," he said. "Don't have any."
For the second time that evening, Randy sensed Groton was lying, either on orders from Ava or simply out of suspicion. This time Randy intended to catch him at it. "Where do you keep your tools?" he asked Groton.
The other man's eyes grew panicky. "What tools?"
"Quit stalling, Groton. You know what I mean. Hammers, saws, things like that. Where are they kept?"
"Tool shed, outside. There's no bolt-cutters there. No sense in looking, either."
Randy thought quickly. "It just so happens, I was in the tool shed earlier this afternoon, Groton, and I know you're lying because I saw them hanging on a hook."
"You're crazy," Groton sputtered. "They can't be in there. I put them-" His hand went to his mouth when he realized he'd trapped himself.
Randy leaned over the table, staring hard. "Where did you put them, Groton? Speak up!"
"I put them I put them ... "
"Well?" Randy snapped.
"I gave them to Ava," Groton said triumphantly. "That's it. I gave them to Ava this morning. You gotta get them from her."
Groton's eyes lit up. He sat at the table, grinning at Randy, proud of his quick thinking. And Randy had to concede it was a perfect answer. Unable to cope with the situation, Groton had put it squarely in Ava's hands, certain she would be able to take care of Randy. And Groton was right, too, thought Randy wryly. He had no desire to go up to Ava's room and grapple with that hard, thrashing, demanding body again. Whichever way he turned, Randy reflected, he ran smack against Ava.
"All right, Groton. Go back to your food."
Groton did, with gusto, and Randy left the kitchen.
CHAPTER TEN
At the bottom of the staircase Randy paused, staring up in the direction of Ava's room. Something flickered in the back of his mind, an idea about the statue in the hidden sex nest. But before it could come to the surface where he could examine it, the lights dimmed and suddenly went out.
A long, bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the house.
Randy felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The scream hadn't come from any particular direction. It seemed to come from everywhere. For a moment he paused at the bottom of the staircase, his ears straining to catch any slight sound. Then he remembered Gina and Sherry were in the library. He started in that direction, walking carefully with his hands stretched out before him in the pitch-black darkness. Again the scream sounded, louder than before.
The sound made him freeze in his tracks. His hearing was very acute, and he was convinced that it wasn't an illusion that the sound seemed to come from everywhere. The very walls and the ceiling reverberated with it. And this time it wasn't followed by complete silence. Instead, a haunting, sobbing female's voice ensued, crying softly at first, then increasing in volume until Randy had to cover his ears with his hands. For a couple of minutes the sobs racked throughout the house, then ceased.
Randy groped carefully forward again in the direction of the library. His hands finally touched a wall. He felt to the right for a few feet and found the knob. Turning it, he swung open the door. He heard gasps.
"Don't come any closer," Gina's shaky voice implored, "or I'll ... I'll crown you!"
"It's me," Randy said. "Turn on the flashlight."
"It doesn't work."
"Did you hear?" Sherry asked.
"A deaf person couldn't fail to hear it," Randy said, stepping carefully in the direction of their voices. His outstretched hand touched a soft body, and it jumped. Then a woman's hand slid into his.
"Gina?"
"Yes, Randy. Thank Christ you've come back."
"Shhh!" whispered Sherry. "Listen ... "
A very faint sound began, in the distance it seemed. As it grew louder, they recognized it as a woman's voice laughing. It became louder, coming from everywhere. A mocking, cruel laugh that threatened to deafen them, shaking the walls and ceiling. Gina shivered violently and held Randy's hand to her heaving bosom. Sherry clutched him from behind, putting her arms around his waist and hugging desperately. The laughter continued, growing higher in pitch until it was hysterical. Then it abruptly ceased.
The sudden silence was painful to their ears.
"Now do you believe me?" quivered Sherry.
"I never doubted you," Randy said. "Which direction did it seem to come from?"
"The ceiling," Sherry said.
"No," Gina said. "It came from the walls, too. It came from everywhere."
"Do you think Ava is safe?" Sherry asked.
"I wish I could go up and cheek," Randy said, "but without light of any sort it's impossible. I ought to go to the kitchen and get Groton. Maybe it's nothing more than a blown fuse ... "
"Listen," Sherry hissed.
A faint thumping sound reached their ears. At first it sounded like a bass drum, but as it increased in volume, it distinctly became a hammering sound, a fist pounding on the walls. By degrees, it
grew louder.
Bang!
A few seconds' pause followed.
Bang!
No human fist could make such a sound, Randy thought. Only a giant fist or device could produce such a shattering effect. It seemed to rock the very foundations of the house. Randy felt Sherry's chin digging into his back as she clutched him fiercely, and Gina's breasts trembled as she squeezed his hand to her chest.
"Go away!" Sherry cried out hysterically.
BANG!
BANG!
The giant fist responded with explosive smashes that made their ears ring painfully. Just when it seemed that the old house couldn't withstand such a battering any longer, it stopped.
Randy heard Sherry's sobs, so faint after the ear-splitting, shattering eruptions of sound that she might have been in the next room.
Gina let out a long, shuddering breath of relief. "Why don't we all just leave tonight? You'd have to be crazy to hang around this place after that."
"There's got to be a logical explanation," Randy said firmly. "And I'm going to find it."
"If you don't go deaf or crazy first," said Gina. "I want to leave."
"All right," Randy said. "Take the car and go back. I'll have Sherry drive me back later. I'm staying."
"Then I'm staying, too," Gina said stubbornly. "You're not going anywhere or staying anywhere without me. Not until this is over."
"Aren't you going to do anything?" Sherry sobbed. "Aren't you at least going to try and trap this ... this thing?"
"I've got a pretty good idea where this so-called thing is originating," Randy said. "But I can't do anything about it until tomorrow. I've got to go to the village first and do some shopping."
"For what?" Gina asked.
Before Randy could reply, another sound made them all strain their ears with apprehension. Faintly at first, growing louder with each repetition, it was the unmistakable sound of footsteps. But not ordinary footsteps. One foot dragged behind, as if it were a leaden weight.
Thump ... shuffle. . . thump ... shuffle...
"Someone's coming," Sherry quaked.
There was no doubt someone or something was approaching the library. As the sound of footsteps became clearer, they recognized another sound.
Whatever it was that was coming for them, it was rasping heavily with exertion. With each step, it gave a painful grunt, seeming to labor with the effort of dragging its useless foot behind it.
"Let's make a run for it," Sherry sobbed. "Let's get out of here quick ... "
"Quiet!" Randy commanded.
The thing was almost at the library door, its heavy, snuffling breath rasping throughout the house. No ordinary human could exhale with such force. Randy judged the thing must be monstrous in size. He looked over at the closed library door, coming to a decision.
"I'm going to meet it," he said.
"No!" Gina's fingernails dug into his hand. "Don't, please. Maybe it won't come in here. Maybe it'll go away if we're quiet."
Its breath was on the door now, heavy and gigantic, its leaden foot dragging outside.
"Let go," Randy told Gina and Sherry. "Both of you, let go or I'll take you with me."
As great as their fear was, his threat was terrifying enough to convince them.
Randy stretched one hand out before him as a probe in the darkness and started toward the door.
He felt heartbeats hammering against his ribs. Whatever it was now seemed directly outside the door, its footsteps having ceased but its immense breath rasping on the door, as though it were waiting for him.
Randy moved closer to the door, now less than a yard away, his mind resolutely determined to face the thing, regardless of the consequences.
'It can't be real,' he told himself over and over, 'it simply can't be. A human being would have to be as tall as a building to make such sounds. It had to be an illusion of some sort, a trick...'
His hand touched the cold, damp wood of the door, then slid down groping for the knob.
At that moment a low, ominous growl of such depth and power came from outside the door that he involuntarily shivered from head to toe.
Randy gritted his teeth and turned the knob. Again, the growl sounded, much louder now, causing Sherry to start sobbing hysterically.
Randy took a deep breath. Gripping the knob, he flung open the door with all his might, straining his eyes against the blackness, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.
The rasping, snuffling breath towered over him, coming from far above him. Randy looked up, seeing nothing. With a final, supreme effort of will, he reached out a tentative hand, feeling the darkness.
Nothing.
It was gone. Except for Sherry's sobbing, the house was utterly still.
Randy wiped his sweating forehead with the back of his hand.
"It's gone," he told the girls in a hoarse, limp voice. "Whatever it was, it's gone."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When the lights came back on a few minutes later, Randy found Sherry huddled in a chair, sobbing. Gina was leaning against the wall, her face pale, her eyes large and frightened.
"I take back all the snide comments I ever made about ghosts," Gina said in a feeble voice. "And I'll never knock them again."
"It was an interesting experience," Randy admitted, "but I still think there's an explanation." He patted Sherry reassuringly on the shoulder. "Everything is all right now. Stay with her," he told Gina. "I'm going to cheek on Ava and Groton."
Randy glanced at his watch as he left the library. It was only ten-thirty, and the whole night still lay before them. He was deeply concerned about Sherry. Her superficial nonchalance had crumbled during the nerve-shattering experiences, revealing a frightened girl on the verge of hysteria. He wasn't certain she could survive another few minutes like those they'd just gone through without severe after-effects. Gina had revealed a strong character, however and despite her nervousness, Randy knew she would be all right. As for himself, he had to admit he was shaken. Illusion or not, that thing outside the door...
Randy found the kitchen empty. He called Groton's name a few times and, getting no response, went up the staircase and knocked on Ava's door. She opened it a moment later, wearing a nightgown. As usual, her face was cool and composed.
"Don't tell me you slept through the last few minutes," he said.
"No. I just lay here in bed with the door locked. I told you earlier, it doesn't want me whatever it is it wants Sherry. I damn sure wasn't going to go out in the hall and say hello to it. What did you expect me to do?"
Her defensive reaction made Randy study her face with suspicion. "This ... this thing didn't bang on your door?"
Ava shivered. "It banged on everything, from the sound it made. Sherry's all right, isn't she?"
"Just shaken up seriously. I don't think she can survive another episode like that without a breakdown."
Ava smiled thinly. "She can always leave the house tonight, can't she?"
"She can," Randy said, "but I doubt very much that she will. Sherry is a very stubborn person. Instead of her leaving, I have another suggestion. I want you to stay with her tonight."
Ava's eyebrows raised sharply. "Why me? Why not Gina? In fact, why not you?" she added with a knowing grin.
"Let's just say I have a hunch Sherry will be safe with you. How about it?"
Ava bit her lip. "I can't very well object, can I?"
"Not without sounding as if you'd like to see her come to harm. Incidentally, have you seen Groton?"
"No. He's probably in the basement, if he's just changed fuses. The lights are always going out in this house. The wiring is old and needs fixing."
"One more question, Ava. Where are the bolt-cutters?"
"Bolt-cutters? We don't have any bolt-cutters."
"Groton said you know where they are."
Ava smiled tautly. "Groton isn't always with it to put it mildly. He's quite stupid and confused."
"I see," said Randy, completely unconvinced. "I'll send Sherry up in a minute."
"Pleasant dreams, Doctor," Ava said, closing the door.
Randy descended the staircase slowly and thoughtfully. He was certain Sherry would be safe with Ava. No harm would be-likely to come to one without involving the other. And if his instincts were correct, Ava wasn't about to try something while Randy placed Sherry in her custody.
Hoping that this line of reasoning was sound, Randy entered the library. He told Sherry that he'd arranged to have Ava spend the night with her, and she responded with a lifeless nod of her head. He went over to her and examined her eyes carefully. Their usual bright sparkle was gone, replaced by dull fear.
"Do you have any sleeping pills?" he asked her.
She nodded.
"Take two tonight," he said, "and don't worry. I'm positive nothing more will happen. At least not tonight, anyway. Come on, we'll escort you upstairs."
Randy took one arm and Gina took the other. Together they led her upstairs, her small body shivering all the way. Ava was waiting outside her door.
"Take good care of her," Randy warned Ava. "If anything should happen to her, and not to you ... "
Ava glanced at him sharply, but said nothing. She led Sherry inside her room and shut the door, locking it.
"What makes you so certain she'll be safe with Ava?" Gina asked him. "And that nothing more will happen tonight?"
"On both counts, just say instinct tells me," said Randy. "I think you ought to go to bed, too. And lock your door and place a chair beneath the knob."
Gina's eyes flashed. "Oh no, you don't. If you think I'm going to spend the night by myself after what happened, you'd better see a psychiatrist. I'm going with you and that's final."
Randy sighed, remembering the frenzied activities of the day. More than anything in the world, he needed a good night's sleep. But he had Gina's safety to consider, too.
"All right, Gina. But let me warn you in advance. We're going to sleep, period." Randy stifled a tremendous yawn.
"You poor thing," said Gina, taking his hand and leading him to his door. "You're exhausted. Frankly, I'm pretty tired myself. Besides," she added, opening the door, "you're forgetting my promise not to chase you anymore. I agree that this should be strictly a safety measure."
While Gina locked the door, Randy undressed. A minute later he slid in between the cool, clean sheets, feeling deliciously drowsy. He watched
Gina undress without a twinge of desire. It felt strange to see her loveliness, her high, firm breasts and flawless, creamy skin, without wanting to stroke and caress her. He did feel a strong desire to hold her, though, to revel in her warmth and affection. And when she turned out the lights and crawled into bed beside him, completely naked, he
did just that.
After a minute, Gina spoke, her voice as soft as the rustle of silk.
"Randy? I want you to know something. That promise I made, well, to tell you the truth, I changed my mind. If you like, I'll do all the chasing. In fact, I think I'll start right now. Randy? Randy."
He was already in a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Randy woke up the next morning, the eerie events of the night before rushed back to his mind so swiftly he sat up in bed, looking wildly around him as if it were a dream that was still in progress. Seeing the bright sunlight streaming through the window, he sighed with relief. He looked down at the bed beside him.
Gina was gone.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember whether that had been a dream, too. No, he was positive she'd gone to sleep beside him last night. He looked at the bathroom door and got out of bed and padded over to it. He knocked and called her name. Getting no answer, he opened the door and glanced in. Empty.
For a minute he stood there scratching his head, trying to collect his thoughts, still dazed with sleep. The door opened then without warning, and Gina came striding in with a tray. She stopped abruptly when she saw him and burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" he asked, angry because he'd gotten so worked up over her disappearance.
"You are, silly. You're standing there stark naked, scratching your head. You look like you're still asleep. I brought you some toast and coffee. Well, would you like to have it standing there in all your glorious manhood, or would you rather have it in bed?"
Randy went sheepishly back to bed and crawled in. Gina brought the tray over to him and sat on the bed.
"I've been up since seven," she said. "And it's nine o'clock now. You really must have been exhausted to sleep that long. I'd like to flatter myself and think it was just little old me who tuckered you out that much, but I'm reserving judgment."
Between mouthfuls of toast and coffee, Randy asked her if anything else had occurred last night while he slept.
"Well, if it did, I didn't hear it. And neither did Sherry or Ava or Groton. They're in the dining room having breakfast now. Your hunch was right."
"I'm going to the village on an errand," Randy said, "and I want you to come with me. I think we can clear up this mystery today."
"What do you have to get at the village?"
"Bolt-cutters. I know there are some on the premises, but trying to get them from Groton is like trying to squeeze water from a rock."
"Did you try Ava? She pulls his strings, you know."
"I tried. She's hardly what you would call cooperative."
Gina grinned. "Maybe you didn't try hard enough. If you used some of that sexy, manly charm..."
Randy winced, remembering the frantic, clawing episode in Ava's room the night before.
"No thanks." He gulped down the rest of his coffee. "I'm going to take a shower. Why don't you wait for me downstairs?"
Gina took the tray and placed it on the bedside table. Then, without a word, she began undressing.
"What're you doing?"
"If we're going to take a shower, I'm certainly not going to leave my clothes on. It'll be my second today, but that's all right. Cleanliness is next to godliness, they say, or do they?"
Randy watched her slip out of her dress, his eyes widening with surprise when he saw she had nothing on underneath. She grinned when she saw his expression.
"I sort of expected this," she explained. "No sense in fumbling with all those under things again."
His eyes traveled hungrily over her creamy body, lingering on her succulent breasts and again on her velvety thighs, and he felt a vigorous flood of desire. Ten hours of deep sleep had completely renewed him, made him ready to cope with anything or anyone.
Gina arched her eyebrows. "Well, what are you waiting for? You can't shower in bed."
Randy followed her to the shower, noting with appreciation the way her hips flared out from her narrow waist, the way her firm buttocks wobbled ever so slightly when she walked, and the ease and grace with which she moved on those long, smooth, lovely legs. By the time they got to the shower, his cock was vibrantly awake, throbbing with need.
Gina turned on the shower and adjusted the nozzle to a fine spray. She tested the water with her hand and adjusted its warmth. Before stepping in, she looked at the other door in the bathroom with a frown.
"Is that Sherry's door?" she asked.
Randy nodded. She went over to it and bolted it decisively.
"Three's a crowd."
She stepped into the shower, and Randy followed. Their bodies came into immediate contact in the confined space, and Randy's cock erected violently. He watched the expression in her eyes change from amusement to ravenous hunger.
She handed him the soap. "Scrub my back," she said in a husky voice, turning so that her buttocks brushed hard against his loins.
Randy soaped her back, marveling at the smooth flawlessness of her skin, its creamy texture slippery against his hand. Working from one shoulder to the other, then down in a large circle to her lower back, he put his other hand around her, against her soft belly to steady her while he soaped her ass. A soft groan escaped her. For a minute he soaped her buttocks thoroughly, aware that she'd begun to flex them in a rhythmic manner, as if they were pulsating in time to her rising pleasure.
"My turn," she said, turning around and taking the soap. Her eyes were feverish on his cock as she soaped his chest and shoulders, working down across his hard, flat stomach. She knelt down to soap it better, and Randy felt a sudden thrill as her hands eagerly roamed over his body.
Gently he turned her around. She bent over, steadying herself by placing her hands against the wall of the shower.
"We're going to try something special," Randy said.
He sank to his knees and stroked her buttocks with a hand that quivered. He caught each of the glossy hillocks and pulled them apart. She stiffened, tried to close them together, but he persisted and she groaned as he soaped her ass-hole.
He slid his hands between them and drew the buttocks apart like curtains and wriggled between them. He let his fingers glide, feeling the way. The index finger encountered the sudden, rubbery point of her posterior, and he nosed his knob after it, prodding tentatively.
"Oh, God!" he heard Gina's weak, muffled cry beneath him.
He pressed down vertically with his staff of rigidity. lie felt it come in contact and took his hand away. He wriggled into her closer and put his hands under her loins, gripping her tight.
For a number of little strokes, he jogged up and down, pushing his loins at the soft cushion of her ass. In and out, in and out he sawed without any specific feeling but a growing sense of pressure, vague and ill-defined in his genital region.
Randy pushed, pushed, levering his whole body on his stiff stem of flesh until it suddenly broke through.
Gina uttered a cry which sputtered into a gurgle.
He pushed down, thrusting into her, feeling the clamping pressure fitting tightly and strongly defined along his inflated flesh.
Gina began to pump against him, trying to press her thighs even though she was crying out, "No, no! I can't bear it!"
Randy held her in spite of her struggles and plunged more and more thickly into her with a slow, swampy advance as he reached around and stuffed his fingers into her cunt.
For a long time the chafing in land out, which was a wave of advancing and withdrawing torment and pleasure, went on, until she was aware of herself performing certain actions which were dictated by his guidance.
Her thighs were widespread and pushed in under her. Her legs felt stiff and jelly-like at the same time.
She was aware of a greater edge to the continuity of passion, an extra pricking stab which her new position had enabled him to make.
As he swept in, his belly smacked against her bottom. The well-fleshed buttocks provided a buffer from which his body recoiled with a spring before flowing in again with a smooth, agonizing fluency.
He wished it could go on forever, but he wanted it to gather momentum as well, to sweep to the inevitable climax which was such sweet torment.
He felt the climax growing in intensity, and his mind reeled with the pleasure of it. His mind took in the groaning of his soft-fleshed lover, the abandon of her posture, her helplessness, the fact that she was crying through her groans.
The moment of oblivion, wonderful oblivion, was almost on him. He gasped for breath, his chest heaving in great, gasping sighs. He couldn't keep on the same pitch. It was too much.
He couldn't hold it. His mouth twisted into a multitude of ungovernable shapes. Her buttocks were there, glossy and smooth, wet and exciting, and her prostrate back and her thighs like a tripod under her, and her groans and her sobs. He couldn't hold it. It was rushing suddenly straight through and burst with a force which dragged a long, grating cry from his mouth. Twisting his mouth under the cries, he smashed home again and again, ridding himself of a great weight, hearing her cry out sharply every time he shattered in.
Gina felt him come. Her body rose and shuddered from head to toe, a look of indescribable ecstasy on her face.
"Randy," she gasped, rearing back her head.
A hot, blinding fusion followed, and Randy felt the wave wash away. The next moment he was aware that Gina was sobbing.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Don't be silly," she sniffed. "I'm crying because I feel so good. And you're a professor of psychology!"
They finished their shower and stepped out. Gina handed him a towel. "Dry me, darling."
Randy rubbed her with the towel until her creamy skin tingled with rosy pinkness, taking special care to be gentle with her lovely breasts. She shivered with delight when he got to her thighs, clutching his hair with her fingers. By the time he finished drying her, his cock was hard again. Resolutely, he threw the towel aside. They still had all that day and night before them, and Randy wanted to clear up the nagging doubts in his mind concerning the events of the night before.
Gina dried him with her hands, lingering with loving care on his cock and balls, deliberately taking her time to arouse him. When she finished, she stood up and gave him a passionate kiss.
"Now take me to bed," she whispered.
"No. We've got work to do first. Until we clear up this mystery, we're going to be investigators and nothing else. Is that clear?"
Gina wrinkled her nose. "You're beginning to sound like that old, crusty professor again."
Randy bestowed a hard slap on her ass that made her jump. "Move, woman!"
She quickly went back into his bedroom and started dressing. Five minutes later, they were both neatly groomed and dressed. He found himself staring wonderingly at Gina as she applied lipstick before the mirror. She never looked more radiant or lovely. Her hair glistened with a rich, healthy sheen, her eyes sparkled with inner happiness, and her newly discovered womanhood seemed to cast a bright glow from her entire body. Sherry and Ava were pale memories beside her, events that would fade before the day was even over. And not only was Gina exciting to look at, she was bright and efficient at her job.
"Can you cook? he asked her.
Gina turned to face him, a wry smile on her face. "Well, to tell you the truth, my cooking won't win any awards. But I can learn. Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering," Randy said thoughtfully. "Ready to go?"
She nodded, and they left his room. Downstairs, Randy sought out Sherry and Ava and told them he was going into the village and would be back shortly. Sherry looked considerably better than last night, he noticed with relief. Her youth and resiliency had protected her against any permanent emotional damage. Ava, however, looked cautious and watchful, her guard up.
"What are you going into the village for?" asked Ava.
"To buy a pair of bolt-cutters. Any objections?"
Ava's eyes narrowed.
"You won't find any. It's Sunday. The stores are all closed."
"Don't worry," Randy said. "I'll get a pair if I have to drag the owner of the local hardware store into his place by the scruff of his neck."
Sherry frowned. "But we have a pair of bolt-cutters, Ava. I've seen Groton using them."
"They're lost," Ava said quickly. "Groton lost them weeks ago."
Randy grinned at Ava. "Convenient, wasn't it? See you all soon."
He and Gina went outside. The sun shone brightly on the decaying old house and tangled, weed-filled grounds, vainly trying to infuse a little cheer into such deep gloom. Randy took a deep breath and looked up at the cloudless, blue sky. The eerie events of the previous night seemed more unreal than ever. With a little luck, the whole mess would be cleared up in a few hours and he and Gina would be driving back to resume their sane, routine life. He glanced over at Gina's full breasts and shapely legs. Once again life would be sane, but not entirely routine.
They went down the porch steps and got into his car. Randy put the key in the ignition, turned and pressed on the starter. Nothing happened. He repeated the procedure, and again nothing happened. With a frown, he got out of the car and lifted the hood, peering underneath. A moment later, he raised his head and Gina saw a look on his face that frightened her.
"Let's go back in the house," he said between clenched teeth.
"What's wrong? Why won't the car start?"
"Someone stole the distributor cap. And I'll give you just one guess who."
Together they went back into the house.
"Wait here," Randy told Gina in the dining room. He found Groton and Ava in the kitchen. Groton was crouched over a second breakfast of bacon and eggs, while Ava stood at the old stove, frying more eggs.
"Leave," Randy told Ava in a grim voice. "Leave us alone."
Ava started to protest when she saw the look on Randy's face. She closed her mouth, took the frying pan off the burner and left the kitchen.
"All right, Groton, where is it? Where's the distributor cap to my car?"
"Don't know what you're talking about," Groton said sullenly. But he stopped chewing, and his eyes avoided Randy's.
Randy went over to the kitchen door and bolted it. Then, as Groton watched with widening eyes, he took off his jacket and placed it neatly over a chair. Next, he took off his tie and hung it neatly over his jacket. He calmly began to roll up his shirtsleeves when Groton stammered, "What are you doing that for?"
"Because I'm going to beat the shit out of you, and I don't want blood all over my best jacket."
Groton gulped and held up a hand. "Now just a minute. I don't know nothing about no distributor ... "
"I ought to warn you first," Randy interrupted, rolling up his other sleeve, "that as a younger man I was a promising fighter with a record of twelve K.O.'s out of thirteen fights. I was also boxing champion at my university. Either you're going to tell me the truth or I'm going to beat it out of you."
Randy leaned over the table, staring hard at Groton.
"Which is it?"
Groton's face went white. He ran a tongue nervously across his thick lips. "Boxing champion?"
"Undefeated. Stand up, Groton, and take your medicine like a man. Come on."
Groton's eyes went to Randy's powerfully developed biceps. He looked frantically at the locked kitchen door. Randy reached over and seized Groton by the shirt and lifted him easily out of his chair.
"Wait!" cried Groton, flinching. "I did it. I did it because Ava made me. She made me take the distributor cap and hide it."
Randy thrust his face close to Groton's chalk-white one.
"Where did you hide it?"
"Basement. Don't hit me. I'll get it."
Another idea occurred to Randy then. "I want the key, Groton. The key to that padlocked door in the secret passageway."
"I don't know what you mean," Groton mumbled. But Randy saw a new fear in the caretaker's eyes, the fear of Ava's sharp tongue and dominating personality.
Randy shook him violently. "You know which door," he barked. "Tell me, or I'll start punching you out right now."
Groton's eyes darted to the door Ava had gone through a minute earlier, his face struggling, trying to determine who was the lesser of two evils, Randy or Ava. One more vigorous shake of his body by Randy produced a quick decision.
"Ava's got it," Groton stammered. "She's got the key to that door. She keeps it hidden somewhere."
"And the bolt-cutters," Randy snapped. "Where are they?"
Groton's lips twitched, still fearful of Randy's threat. "They're ... in the basement."
Randy released the quivering, hulking body. "Fine, Groton. Now I'll give you exactly two minutes to go down to the basement. Get the bolt-cutters and the distributor cap to my car, and get back up here with them. If you're not back in two minutes ... "
He unbolted the kitchen door. Groton stood there for a moment, trying to collect himself. Randy looked at his watch.
"One minute and fifty-five seconds, Groton."
The caretaker ran clumsily out of the kitchen. Randy put his tie back on and knotted it, satisfied his suspicions that Ava knew about the passageway and the room were true. There was no definite proof yet that she was behind the eerie phenomena of last night, but he was certain the padlocked room held the answer to that.
A momentary doubt seized him as he remembered the thing outside the library door last night. He couldn't control the shiver that ran up
his spine when he recalled that heavy, snuffling breath and the terrifying, low growl that signified its presence. Suppose the thing was kept behind, the padlocked door?
Nonsense, Randy told himself. Monsters didn't exist, except in the imagination of children. And yet, no human being could have produced sounds of such enormous depth and volume nor could any animal he was familiar with. But if such a thing did exist, it would undoubtedly have to be kept locked up, and the padlocked room would be an ideal place.
Gina and Sherry came into the kitchen as Randy was putting on his jacket.
"What did you do to poor Groton?" asked Gina. "He ran out of the kitchen as if his ass was on fire."
"I offered him a boxing lesson and he declined. He'll be back in a minute with a pair of bolt-cutters and the distributor cap he stole from my car."
"Why would he do that?" Sherry asked.
Randy faced the small blonde squarely. "Because Ava ordered him to. She wanted to prevent me from going into the village to get a pair of bolt-cutters. Obviously, she wants to keep me from getting into that padlocked room in the secret passageway. I've suspected all along the answer to these apparitions and ghost-like effects lies in that room. The three of us are going to find out what's there as soon as Groton gets back here."
Sherry's eyes grew large with fright.
"Suppose that thing we heard last night is in there? Shouldn't we carry a gun or something?"
"Do you have one?" Randy asked her.
"No. Ava has the only gun in the house."
"Well, I don't think she's going to volunteer it to us," Randy said. "And I'm certain that thing doesn't really exist. We'll take a chance and go unarmed."
"But why would Ava try to frighten me out of my wits? Or, for that matter, try to kill me with that falling statue and chandelier? It doesn't make sense."
"That's something only Ava can tell you," said Randy. "Maybe the value of those paintings in the hidden room is the answer. They're worth a fortune."
"That's right," Sherry murmured. "And I hope you're not forgetting my offer."
"What offer?" Gina interjected.
"I've asked Randy to marry me," Sherry said. "The first man I ever proposed to. And probably the last."
Gina's face went white. "Did he accept?"
"No, I didn't," said Randy. "I've got other plans."
At that moment Groton came slinking back into the kitchen. He held out the bolt-cutters to Randy, who took the heavy tool.
"Now put that distributor cap back where it belongs," Randy told him. Groton started to leave, and Sherry said, "Wait. Where's Ava?"
"I don't know," Groton mumbled. "She ain't in her room."
"You're in with her on this, aren't you?" accused Sherry. "You fixed the chandelier so it would fall. And the statue, too. Ava told you to, didn't she?"
Groton's face darkened. "Don't know anything. Ask Ava."
"You can go," Randy said. "But don't leave the grounds."
When he'd gone, Randy said, "He won't admit anything of course. And whatever he's done isn't actually his fault. He's merely Ava's puppet. I don't think any court would find him mentally responsible for his actions under such circumstances." Randy held up the bolt-cutters. "Now let's find out what's in that padlocked room."
Sherry and Gina followed him up the staircase in silence. Sherry shivered, and Gina's face was taut with anticipation.
In his room, Randy lit a candle, unable to find batteries for his flashlight, and pressed the spot beneath the mantle that operated the fireplace mechanism. It swung open slowly.
"Stay directly behind me," Randy told the girls. "If the candle should go out from a draft, don't panic. Just grab the person in front of you. Ready?"
They nodded. Randy crouched and entered the passageway, covering the flame with his hand when it flickered and almost went out from the sudden rush of damp air. He led the way slowly after he heard the fireplace creak shut behind them, wondering how many times Sherry's mother had traveled the same path to meet her lover, and why it was necessary for her to take such elaborate precautions.
A minute later he paused in front of the door with the skull on it. He turned the candle on Sherry's face. Her lower lip was trembling, and she
was pale as a ghost.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she quaked. "Go ahead."
He wondered if he should have brought her along. She'd undergone a tremendous strain the night before, but he wanted her to see for herself there was nothing to fear. He glanced briefly at Gina, whose expression was nervous but determined, and he pushed open the door. The candle cast eerie shadows everywhere, making the statue seem alive for a moment. He led the way through the room to the padlocked door. He held out the candle to Gina.
"Hold this."
She took, it, and he placed the jaws of the bolt-cutters over the curved steel bar of the padlock. Then he paused, listening carefully with his ear to the door. It was utterly still. Gripping the handle of the bolt-cutters securely, he applied pressure. The steel bar snapped easily. Randy put down the cutters and removed the lock.
"Stand back," he told the girls. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. It creaked painfully on its ancient hinges. Randy tensed his muscles, braced for anything, and peered cautiously into the darkness of the room.
"Give me the candle," he told Gina. She handed it to him, and he stepped inside the room, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Stay back," he warned the girls.
"Don't worry about that," murmured Gina.
Randy held the candle out before him, his eyes straining in the semidarkness.
"Well, I'll be goddamned," he said a minute later.
"What is it?" asked Gina behind him.
Randy laughed. "If this isn't a son-of-a-bitch."
"Can we come in and look?" Sherry asked.
Randy turned to face them. "Come in, both of you. I want you to meet our ghosts. Behold our sobbing, laughing, fist-banging, spine-chilling ghosts. Come on," he urged, "they can't bite."
Gina stepped into the room, followed by Sherry. They stared at the bank of electronic equipment.
"This, ladies, is a powerful amplifier, at least two hundred watts, I'd judge, powerful enough to fill a football stadium with sound. And this," he said, "is a sophisticated, stereo tape deck. And these," he pointed to cables leading away from the amplifier, "undoubtedly lead to hidden speakers all over the house."
Randy stood up. "In other words, you're looking at a unique stereo system, very expensive from the looks of it, and the sound it produces is so realistic as to be indistinguishable from the real thing. Let's see if it's hooked up."
"What's this?" asked Gina, pointing to another group of equipment.
Randy studied the system carefully. "Your ghostly face on the bedroom wall, I'd say. It's a slide projector with remote projection capabilities. The face was probably projected through an opening in your fireplace."
He switched the play-back dial on. the tape deck and turned on the amplifier. Then he turned the volume up and waited. A few seconds later, a low, sobbing, ghostly noise began to echo through the room. It was precisely the same, haunting sound they'd heard the night before. Randy ran the tape ahead a bit further, and a nerve-shattering, fist-banging sound ensued. Finally, he allowed the reel to run out, and at the end they immediately heard the heavy, rasping breath and leaden foot being dragged. He switched off the equipment and stood up.
"Well, girls, there's your blood-curdling monster. And I don't have to tell you, Sherry, who's been operating this record player."
"No, you don't," Ava's sharp voice said from the doorway. They were suddenly blinded by light.
"As long as you're here, you may as well have the lights on," Ava said. "The switch is hidden, but the whole place is wired. You don't think Sherry's mother always fucked by candlelight, do you?"
When Randy's eyes adjusted to the bright light overhead, he opened them fully to see Ava standing in the doorway, holding a gun on them, smiling in that thin, cunning way of hers.
"I was waiting for you in the other room behind the drapes," she said. "I figured you'd get the bolt-cutters from Groton this morning, so I decided to give you a welcome."
"Then it was you who tried to kill me." whispered Sherry, "you who almost frightened me to death. My own sister."
"Adopted sister," corrected Gina. "No real sister would do what she's done to you."
"Wrong," hissed Ava. "I am her real sister. Sherry's mother was also my real mother. Our fathers were different, though."
"That man in the statue," said Randy. "He's your father, isn't he?"
"Yes," said Ava. "And I'm surprised you didn't recognize the facial resemblance earlier."
"I knew he reminded me of someone," Randy said, "but I just didn't connect him with you. Who was he?"
"The caretaker here for years." Ava turned to Sherry, her face filled with malice. "Yes, that's right, dear sister. Your mother and mine, too, remember was madly in love with Father, who was the caretaker here when she was young. Then one night your father your mother's husband caught him in the next room with your mother and shot him. When I was born shortly after my father's death, your mother refused to give me up, so your father pretended to adopt me, and I was brought up as an adopted sister to you. I never even knew about it until your mother our mother, I mean died a little while ago. She left me a letter explaining everything, with a map of the secret passageway and rooms."
Sherry shook her head in bewilderment. "Let me get this straight. Your father was the caretaker here, my mother's lover, right? Then my father Mother's husband shot him. But we both had the same mother, which makes real sisters, doesn't it?"
Ava nodded. "Real half-sisters, anyway."
"Then why did Mother leave me everything and you nothing in her will?" asked Sherry.
"That's where you're wrong," snapped Ava. "Our mother left you the house, but she left me the contents of the next room. When your father died a few years ago, she invested all her insurance money in those paintings and that statue. She made a shrine out of that room, a shrine to my father's memory. In her letter, she left everything in that room to me."
Randy interrupted her. "How was that statue made if your father had been dead for years?"
"The sculptor made it from old snapshots," replied Ava.
"But I still don't understand," Sherry said. "Why did you try to kill me?"
"I didn't try to kill you," retorted Ava. "I only wanted to scare you away from the house, but that clumsy Groton almost killed you in the process."
"By why? Why did you try to frighten me away?" asked Sherry.
Ava's face turned hard. "Because I don't want you to sell this house. I want to live here. I want it to remain exactly the way it is. I don't want anything changed. You would have sold it and moved away and completely forgotten about me."
"I think you'd better give me that gun before it goes off," Randy said, taking a step forward.
"Stand back," she warned. "It's loaded. Don't take another step!"
"You won't shoot," said Randy, still moving toward her. "You're not a killer, Ava. You're bitter, and that's understandable, but you haven't got it in you to really harm anyone. Now hand me that gun."
"Don't take another step," she hissed. "I swear I'll shoot. I warn you-"
She suddenly burst into tears and sagged against the doorway. Randy took the gun from her gently.
"You poor thing," said Sherry, putting her arms around Ava. "Why didn't you tell me the truth days ago? I would have let you have the house. I don't want the old place, anyway. All I wanted was enough money for a college education. If it means that much to you, you can keep the house."
Ava dried her eyes with the back of her hand. "Do you mean that?" she sniffed. "I won't have to leave. ever?"
"Of course not," said Sherry. "I'll sign it over to you today."
"Then you can have the paintings," Ava said. "You can sell them and you'll have more than enough money. All I want is the house itself. And the statue. I want to keep the statue of my father and our mother."
"It's a deal," said Sherry, embracing her half-sister.
Randy looked at Gina. "I think that clears up everything. We may as well start back to the city."
Sherry stepped up to Randy. "I won't ever be able to thank you enough, Doctor. Do I rate a good-bye kiss?"
Randy looked questioningly at Gina.
"Just one," Gina said warningly.
Sherry put her arms around Randy and gave him a long, passionate kiss. After a minute she released him with a sigh.
"You don't know how lucky you are," Sherry said to Gina.
Randy shook hands with Ava cautiously, hoping she wouldn't kiss him good-bye. Even with Sherry and Gina there to protect him, he didn't feel safe.
Ten minutes later, Randy and Gina climbed into his car. With one last look at the old house, he started the engine and pulled into the drive. The last thing he saw of the place was Groton peering at him from some bushes.
"Do you suppose they'll be happy together?" Gina asked. "Groton and Ava, I mean."
"I'd say so," Randy said.
Gina snuggled next to him, her arm around his shoulders, her ripe breast pressing against his arm.
"Well," she sighed, "back to the happy, sane routine of campus life."
"We're not going back to the campus," he said firmly. "First we're going back to that motel we stopped at the other night. Then we're going on a two-week vacation. Is that clear, Mrs. Garten?"
Gina bit him gently on the ear lobe. "You bet your sweet ass it is."
