It had been dark for only a few minutes when Mike Reston ran the big Buick up over the gravel driveway and braked to a quick stop in front of the house. For a moment he sat in the car and just looked at the imposing front of the large building. He was conscious of the supreme quiet here, far removed from the hurried noises of the city. The air was crisp and clear, smelling of fresh earth and newly cut grass. There was a welcome freedom from the oppressive heavy odors of the crowded city. The house before him was vast and, sitting as it did in the center of a large estate, it suggested a great deal of money. The rich even breathe fresher air, Mike thought taking a deep breath. Mike was not especially nervous, but just to be careful he turned his gaze to the driveway as it fronted the large three-car garage. The drive in front of the garage was empty and the huge door was open so Mike could see inside. There was only one car, a Mustang, that Mike recognized as Elly's. Her husband's car was not there.
He opened the car door and slid out. Mike was a large man, six feet in height and weighing nearly two hundred pounds, but gave the impression of being rather thin. All of his weight was in lean rangy muscle. His shoulders were broad and solid. He had coarse sandy hair that always flew in defiance of comb or brush. His face was not that of a handsome man, but it was rugged and pleasant and he knew that it was attractive to women.
He smiled briefly as he walked up to the door. He felt good. His hand was extended, ready to knock, but the door swung open before him and Elly Farris stood there smiling at him. Her loose blonde hair was hanging down around her soft oval face and her blue eyes had a sleepy sexy look in them as if she had just come from her bed. Her lips brightened into a smile.
"I've been watching for your car," she said, and reached for Mike's hand to lead him into the house. Her voice was soft and melodious. He followed her willingly. Once inside, he glanced about the foyer. Elly saw his glance and misunderstood.
"Oh, don't worry," she said. "He went out of town. He's going to be away for several days." She paused for a moment and then looked at Mike with a gleam in her eye as she said, "We can have all night together."
Her voice was no more than a whisper and Mike felt the silky words as if they were tangible. She made the statement a treasure trove of hidden promise, a harbinger of a thousand unknown delights.
Elly Farris was twenty-eight, blonde and tender. A sleeveless white blouse and full peasant skirt covered what Mike knew to be a passionate and exciting body. He had recently discovered the full flavor of her favors.
She watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as he took stock of her figure while she stood before him. He was conscious of the way her full breasts pushed out the front of the blouse and the small dots of her nipples behind the thin material told him that she wore no bra.
Mike had not uttered a word since he had entered the house. He just stood there and smiled as he looked at her thrusting breasts. He abandoned himself to the woman's open sexuality. Seeing his gaze and where it settled brought a smile to Elly's face.
Slowly, her hands crept up the sides of her body and tenderly cupped the jutting mounds from below. The action lifted her blouse out of her skirt and Mike saw a band of creamy white flesh between blouse and skirt causing his pulse to quicken.
"Do you like them?" she asked. Her voice kindled the fires of lust within Mike's loins. He felt himself begin to harden in response to her open invitation.
"Treat them gently, Mike. Treat them softly."
She dropped her hands and moved up against him. His nostrils were filled with the perfumed fragrance of her womanly body. But there was more than just the smell of perfume. Part of the smell was that of her ripe body. It was strong and heady like good wine going to his senses. He felt a tingling that raced through his body. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pulled his mouth down onto hers. Her mouth was open, wet, demanding, tasting of sweetness.
Through his shirt Mike felt the hot, hard tips of her breasts rub against him. Her warm sensuous mouth covered his, her tongue diving deeply into his mouth, while her fingers traced lines of fire up and down his back.
Her hips ground into his and he could feel the hardness of her pubic mound against his rising penis. Her full breasts were two thrusting forces against his chest.
He let his hands slip around between them, moving them under the blouse that hung loosely. His hands moved up and over her stomach and cupped the ripe fullness of her breasts. His fingertips found the swollen nipples as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.
Their lips parted and Mike held his head back to look at her. Elly's eyes were closed and her red lips were open. Her warm breathe was sweet and exciting.
"Oooooooh," she moaned. "God, I love that. The nipples ... Oh, oh ... there, that's it."
The already ripe nipples swelled even more under Mike's skilled caresses and Elly's hips began to writhe against his.
"I'm so hot," she moaned heatedly. "I need it."
Her hand darted out and gripped his thrusting penis through the material of his trousers. She gripped him fiercely. With her other hand she tugged at his belt buckle freeing it at last.
Her hand was like fire as she seized the naked flash of his cock.
Mike stooped to pick her up and carried her into the living room and set her down on the huge sofa. Her soft large breasts quivered gently as he set her down, but the turgid passion-filled nipples stuck straight up into the air, fully visible beneath the light summer blouse.
Quickly Mike stepped out of his already loosened pants. Kneeling beside her Mike slipped the blouse off her shoulders. The skirt had only one point of fastening, and when that was free, Elly lifted her hips and Mike was able to pull the skirt free from her body. She lay exposed to his gaze, clad only in a brief whisp of material about her loins. The soft fluff of her golden pubic hair was easily visible through the panties. Her long lovely legs thrashed excitedly. For Mike, the rest of the world receded from consciousness. Now there was only Elly. Only beautiful, passionate Elly, ready and willing to welcome his ardent caresses. Ready for his forceful thrusts into the very center of her womanhood. The roar of his own blood pounded in his ears shutting out all sounds, save Elly's voice.
Her feet dug into the sofa and she lifted her hips to tease him.
"Am I lovely?" she asked, her breath warm against his face. "Do I excite you? Do you want me?"
As she spoke, she moved her hips suggestively. Her moist tongue flicked out and moved over her full lips.
As Mike watched, she spread her thighs and ran her hands up the insides of the slender columns of creamy flesh.
"Watch me," she breathed.
Her hands continued their journey up the insides of her open thighs. They came in contact with her panties and stopped. Slowly her fingers traced little patterns over the light material. Mike could see that the material was damp right over her love lips.
Elly looked into Mike's eyes. He could see the flame of desire burning within her.
Suddenly, she gave a small short scream as if the tension had become too much.
"Take them off of me, darling. Touch me. Make me want it."
Mike needed no further invitation. He put his hands to the panties and she lifted her hips to enable him to pull the material down over her legs. Mike discarded the panties on the floor behind him.
Elly's lovely cunt was now fully exposed to his eager gaze. Beneath her partly spread thighs he could see the soft pink of the lips of her vulva covered with a light spread of blonde curls. Barely visible near the top of her luscious slit was the dark red tip of her clitoris. This small organ was the seat of Elly's pleasure and Mike took his pains to see to it that it received its proper share of attention. Sparkling drops of love dew were caught in the golden curls of the sweet pussy.
Bending down Mike captured one rigid nipple with his mouth and ran his tongue over it gently. His hands played her body as if it were a beautiful instrument and Elly let herself go to follow the demands of Mike's caresses. Her breath was lost in a series of soft moans and mewing sounds. Mike's fingers ran gently over the belly and down to her thighs.
At his touch, Elly spread herself wide open and his questing fingers sought and found the slick wet groove of her pussy. Mike thrust a finger deeply inside. Elly's hands clutched his head and held his mouth to the tip of her breast.
"Ohhhhhh," she moaned.
Mike worked silently on her passion-wracked body, feeling her respond more and more to his artful stimulation. Her hips stabbed up into the air and pressed firmly against his hand.
"Oh, lover, baby," she panted. Her voice was hoarse with passion.
Elly's head lolled back and her lips pulled back from her teeth in a passionate animal grimace.
Mike struggled to be free of his clothes. His under-shorts fell to the floor.
He hovered above her and her hot hand reached up and clasped his rigid cock, trying to pull him down to her eager cunt. But he held back, enjoying the fevered movements of her body beneath him. His lips continued to nibble at her sweet breasts, teasing one nipple, then the other.
Elly lifted one leg and rubbed it over Mike's flank. Her arms pulled him to her.
"Damn you," she gasped. "Fuck me."
Suddenly her voice changed and she pleaded, "Please, Mike, I can't wait much longer."
Drops of moisture beaded her body as she moved frantically on the sofa arching up to him, offering him the gift of her open cunt.
Slowly he lowered himself down on top of her as he allowed his stiff prick to replace his hand in contact with the outer lips of her slit. He paused with the large head of his staff resting gently between the outer portals leading to the blonde's vagina. With a soft movement he allowed his cock to brush gently against the bud that was the girl's clitoris and was rewarded by a deep convulsive shudder that passed through her slim body.
Then, with a steady measured thrust, Mike sank his large cock deeply into the eager open cunt of the woman beneath him.
He fucked slowly at first, then more violently. He held to the side of the sofa with one hand, fearful that
Elly's vigorous movements would cause them both to tumble to the floor. He buried his face in the hollow of her throat and felt her breath as it whistled next to his ear. The pace quickened. Mike could not resist the urging of her thighs. His hips rolled and ground against hers. Faster and faster they moved. Mike's swollen cock plunged in and out of the hot slick tunnel of Elly's heated cunt. Her excitement raged. Elly's breasts thrust against Mike's chest and her tongue bore into his mouth while her hands pulled and squeezed at his flesh.
Mike abandoned all restraint. He drove forward harder and faster, harder and faster.
As Elly approached her peak, her voice continued to urge him on. He heard, as if from a distance, all the exciting words that she spoke, telling him what to do to her.
Her hoarse voice rasped, "Give it to me, Mike. Give me your cock. Deeper ... deeper. There. In more ... Oh! Oh! Oh! Mike! Oh, God, give it to me till I screeeeeeaammmm!"
Her long legs clasped him tightly. He could feel the walls of her vagina gripping his long prick. Her whole body stiffened as she clutched him as she reached the climax. Mike felt the release flood through him. Lights exploded into million shapes and colors. His body shuddered with the tumultuous wave upon wave of release. His heart beat frantically, smashing against his rib cage. He could feel the repeated spurts as the white flood poured from the end of his tool into the heated spaces of the honeyed cunt of the young woman beneath him.
Slowly his passion subsided.
Minutes ticked by unnoticed. The two lovers lay softly and quietly with only their labored breathing remaining. Elly's right hand lay carelessly across Mike's loins, brushing gently across the limp organ that only moments before had been so large and pleasure giving in her cunt. Elly's blonde curly pussy hair was damp and matted now with the product of their vigorous sexual activity. Between her gently parted thighs appeared the slightly puffy form of her delicate cunt lips beaded with a moisture of their own.
Much later, Mike smoked a cigarette while Elly fixed drinks for them at the sideboard on the other side of the room. She had slipped into a robe and stood with her back to Mike.
"You're just too much woman," he said, his voice relaxed and happy.
"Thank you, sir," Elly said happily, "I'll take that as a compliment if I may."
Mike chuckled.
"Who taught you all that?" he asked. Elly tossed a grin over her shoulder. "Did you like it."
"Do you have to ask."
"I'm a woman of mystery," Elly said. "What you do with that hot body of yours is not mystery," Mike said. "It's more like magic." Elly turned.
"You have the magic wand," she said pointing to Mike's relaxed cock. Mike laughed again.
"But I have the place you like to put it, don't I?" Elly asked. And without waiting for a reply she swept the folds of the robe open in front of her and exposed her blonde loins to Mike's gaze. Gently she let her hands move into the girl fur. They paused only briefly and then pulled gently on the outer lips of her slit opening the whole of her cunt to Mike's view. The randy performance of the sexy girl was overwhelming. Mike immediately felt his prick begin to swell. This was not lost to Elly as she watched the effect that she was having on him as she displayed her body to him.
Mike could see deeply into the red, open gash between Elly's thighs. She leaned back and thrust out her hips to give him a better view. Then she inserted her middle finger of her right hand into the gaping mouth of her twat as far as it would go and rotated her hand, rubbing her whole pussy. Fluid bathed her hand and dribbled down the insides of her thighs.
Mike started up from his seat. His cock was standing full size by now.
With an impatient shrug Elly motioned him to remain where he was.
"Wait a minute. Just watch."
Slowly her hand continued to rub her cunt. Her eyes seemed to glaze over. She let her fingers come out a little way and flutter in a soft teasing motion over the outer lips and the firm bud of her clitoris. Her breath began to labor.
Her voice was soft and distant.
"Do you want to fuck me again, Mike? Are you man enough?"
"Yes," Mike croaked, his voice lost in the thickness of his throat. He had never before been as aroused as he was now. And it was only a short while after they had made love before. But the thrust of his huge cock gave ample evidence of his potency.
He watched in amazement as Elly removed her hand from her hairy pussy and raised the wet five fingers to her mouth. Slowly her tongue peaked out and dabbed at the moisture on the tips of each finger.
"If you want some, you will have to come and get it," she taunted.
Mike came out his chair as if thrust from a cannon barrel. His shoulder hit Elly in the belly and she fell beneath. His open mouth clamped over the heated opening of her cunt and she screamed beneath him. His tongue lanced into the cavern of her vagina and he tasted the sweetness of her sex organs. His lips sucked and pulled at her clitoris and vagina. He had difficulty holding her still while he worked at her blonde love nest, so great was her excitement. His nose was lost in the blonde hair that covered her cunt. He was overwhelmed by her sexy smell.
"Now," she screamed at last. "Fuck me, you sonofabitch. Stick that big thing into me. Fill me up. Make me come."
Mike pulled himself up and leaped between her open thighs. His rigid tool plunged into the open pit between her legs. He slammed into her.
"OOOHHHH," she moaned as she felt him fill her twat. "GOOOOODDDD."
Faster and faster Mike rammed into her. He felt the juice pour from the lips of her cunt soaking his cock and balls. Faster and faster.
And that was what Elly seemed to want, too. She urged him on and slammed her loins up against him. Suddenly she screamed again.
"I'm going to come!"
At that moment Mike felt his load burst from his cock and go shooting in a dozen delightful spasms into the cunt of the woman beneath him
"Give it to me," she begged.
And he did.
He continued to ram his heavy meat into her. He fucked her fiercly until she lay passively and exhausted under him.
"Oh, God, you're good," she said in a sigh. "So goddamn good, my darling."
Mike had no idea of how much time passed. Finally he aroused and looked over at Elly. "Time for that drink now?" he asked.
Elly busied herself at the bar on the other side of the room. Mike took advantage of her momentary preoccupation to study the huge living room. He crushed out the cigarette that he had just lit in a large ornate ashtray that seemed to be a giant swan with a hollowed out back. There was no doubt about one thing. There was a hell of a lot of money in that room.
The room was very large and filled with plush expensive furniture. On the wall on the far side of the room over Elly's head Mike saw an original painting by an artist whose work he could recognize, but whose name he could not recall. Masite or Maceet or something like that. It really didn't matter. The quality of the painting, obviously superb, was the real factor to be considered. Mike had taken a sincere, but decidedly amateur interest in painting for a number of years. Usually his interests only served to remind him how far removed he was from the world of elegance and expensive tastes that good art seemed to imply. The painting was pushed out of his thoughts. It was only a well colored weird blend of geometric shapes and lines that had no meaning for Mike. He was only guessing, but he estimated the cost of the picture to be in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars and that was what filled his mind now. When somebody can afford to spend ten grand on something as useless as a picture to cover up some bare wall in his living room, then he is loaded by anybody's standards.
Elly carried his drink back to him from across the room. It was obvious from the way that she walked that she was all business now. And Mike was ready for business too. He was fully satisfied from his lovemaking on the sofa, but he was still not so tired that he failed to notice the saucy bounce of Elly's large breasts under the thin robe that she wore. He was amazed at the effect that this woman had on him. He fancied that he could see the large swollen tips of her breasts making two circular ripples in the coat on either side.
The lovely blonde handed Mike his drink and sat down on a chair across from him. She took a sip of her drink and set the glass down on the coffee table beside her chair. Mike watched a ring of moisture settle on the table top.
Elly peered at him through lowered lashes as she said, "And now down to business."
Mike smiled and tasted his drink, but was silent.
Finally, after a long silence, he said, "When you're ready." The drink warmed him and he felt his muscles relax even more.
Mike was interested, of course. In fact, very interested in the business that Elly wanted to discuss, but there was no sense in showing how he felt until he had a chance for a little more time to appraise the situation and see just how Elly was going to go about her part of it.
One thing was certain. Mike knew that it meant money. A good deal of money and he could not deny that he liked the fringe benefits that went along with doing business with Elly. But there was also a need for a lot of caution. Money and sex could cause a man to leap before he took the time to look and Mike was going to play this for all that it was worth. He had to be careful. His intense reaction to Elly's sexual magnetism frightened him somewhat. He had to maintain his distance from her. He had seen more than one man get so excited about following his cock around that he never stopped to see where it was leading him. When he finally did wake up and look around it was usually too damn late.
That was not going to happen to him, Mike reminded himself for what seemed like the hundredth time.
When Elly saw that Mike was not going to say anything she reached for a cigarette and lighter on the coffee table. She paused long enough for Mike to get up and take the lighter from her and light her cigarette if he wanted to, but Mike just sat in his chair and looked at her quietly.
"Damned independent, aren't you?" she said. She smiled as she said it and Mike thought that they were beginning to understand each other a little better.
Finally she asked, "Okay, what do you think about it?"
Mike wanted to be careful here. He took a moment to mull it over in his mind. He had made his decision, but he ran over the details searching for a loophole that Elly might be able to use to get the advantage. With lovely warm body so close and available, Mike had to keep reminding himself that if he was not careful she could take him in and skin him alive before he even knew what she was up to. Just like the male spider who is eaten by the female spider after he has satisfied her needs, Mike would probably blindly enjoy his execution proceedings until the final fatal moment.
He glanced at Elly to see her regarding him with eyes that were not at all soft now, not at all warm. She saw him looking at her. "Can't you talk."
"I'm just thinking," he replied.
"Thinking? About what? Haven't you had enough time to think it over?"
"I'm not thinking about the deal," Mike said. Knowing it would please her he added, "I was just thinking about us."
He had been right.
"Oh," she said. A brief smile touched her lips.
Let her think what she wanted to, Mike thought. He was sure that her only thoughts were about how he regarded her body. She seemed sure that she had taken him in.
His relationship with Elly had developed in a strange way. Several weeks ago Elly had surprised self. She had given him the name of a good friend that he had had in the service and had said that Barry King had said to say hello to Mike Reston when she got back to town. Elly had suggested to Mike that they meet for a drink and Mike had been happy to go along with the suggestion. There was no denying the warm overtones that he heard over the phone. Even the cold impersonal telephone could not mask Elly's sexy appeal. They met for a drink in one of the downtown night spots and had spoken briefly of their mutual friend. It was only when Mike offered to take her home that Elly had mentioned that she was married. He had noticed the absence of rings on her fingers. Mike had driven her home that evening, but had dropped her off a block from her house.
Mike had no intentions of seeing her again, but two days later she had called him again and asked him to come to the house to see her. Mike had hesitated. He made it a practice to steer clear of married women. Usually they were more trouble and danger than they were worth. They could make things messy when their own guilt finally forced them to confess it all to their husbands or girl friends. But Elly was something special. Again he heard the warmth of her voice as she spoke to him over the phone. There was no mistaking the sound of her voice and what lay behind that warm invitation.
He had gone to see her and had spent the night with her. Her husband was frequently out of town and they had been sleeping together almost every night for the past two weeks.
Not really sleeping, of course. A night with Elly was a night of pure blissful agony. Mike was, at the same time, so satisfied and so worn out that he could not even decide what his reaction was to the blonde woman. But he came back for more and more. Her heated thighs and the wet cavern of her eager cunt overwhelmed his senses. He had explored with his hands, eyes and tongue every corner of that magnificent body. And he knew that he would never really have enough. It was this realization that made him careful now.
Suddenly two nights ago, while they were lying in bed after making love, Elly had broached the subject that she wanted to discuss now.
Mike worried it in his mind. The whole thing sounded too easy. He was leary of something that seemed to give so much for so little effort.
"Elly," he said at last, "if this thing works, your husband just has to be the prize ass of all time."
Elly set her drink down and took a deep drag on her cigarette. Then she snuffed it out in the ashtray. She got to her feet and paced about the room while Mike's eyes followed her.
"When it comes to making a judgment about my husband," she said sharply, "I know what I'm doing. He has a good head for business, all right. I'll give him that, but outside of the office when it comes to women and sex, Mike, he's a real class A jerk."
Mike was surprised to hear the venom in her voice as she spoke about her husband.
"It seems to me that he knows plenty about women if he could catch someone like you," Mike said evenly.
Elly smiled at the compliment, but shook her head as if to deny it.
"If anything, I got him. like I said, he seems to know nothing about women. He had money when I went to work for him and I had only one dress in my closet besides the one I wore to work that first day. I was flat broke when I started working in his office and I hated being poor. He saw me and he wanted me. Sure, I led him on, but I held out for marriage. That was all. This was what he really wanted."
With those words Elly reached down and pulled her housecoat apart exposing to Mike's gaze once again the fluffy blonde hair that covered her pussy.
"He wanted my cunt, Mike. If I had given it to him he would never have married me. He even offered me money for just one time between my legs. I turned him down. He didn't know what to make of me. He never knew how much I weighed the advantages and disadvantages of screwing him just for a few bucks. With all his money he was so used to having every girl happy to shuck her bra and panties just for the chance to jump in bed under his cock, that when I refused he really thought he had something unique."
Elly paused to light another cigarette. She took a hurried puff and smiled wryly, the smoke curling around her head saying, "He's had some damn good rides for his money."
Then the smile was gone and her face was cool once more.
"Believe me. When I say that it will work, it will work."
She stopped in the middle of the room and stood regarding Mike silently. She waited for his reaction.
Mike marveled at the remarkable competence of the woman. He could never let himself forget that she could be a very dangerous enemy.
"Okay," Mike said finally, "Let's go over it again."
She nodded curtly, but gave him a rewarding smile. She began to talk again, the words flowing easily and surely from her lips.
"Actually, there's nothing to it. In fact, I've already started it going. I cut him off at home over a month ago. We don't even sleep in the same bedroom anymore. Allan is no monk. He's getting his screwing someplace else. You can bet on that. All we have to do is catch him at it. A couple of pictures, a tape of their voices and the bed springs squeaking and good old Allan is in the bag. We will have him by the balls."
"You pass the pictures and the other stuff on to me and I ask Allan for a divorce. This state is murder on adultery and even without community property laws, he'll know that I'll be able to nail him for plenty. He may want to fight it so I'll be the sweet wonderful wife that I have always been and give him a way out.
If he will give me the divorce and a substantial cash settlement I will give up any claims that I might have to anything else of his. He can even keep my car and jewelry."
Mike must have looked doubtful. Elly paused and shook her head vigorously.
"He'll eat it up. He'll probably even think that I am doing him a favor."
Elly paused once more.
"And naturally," she said slowly, "whatever we get we split evenly between the two of us."
"Naturally," Mike said. "How much do we ask for?" Elly let a long time pass before she answered. "How does an even million sound to you?" Mike whistled. "Will we get it?" Elly shook her head.
"I doubt it," she replied. "But I think that we can count on about half of that after all the arguments are over. Allan is worth nearly ten million and he'll know that I could string him along for years if I wanted to. In the long run, that way I ought to get more than a half million. But this way is better. Don't worry. He'll settle."
Mike sat quietly for several moments thinking to himself. He thought about the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars that Elly promised him as his share. Then he spent a few more minutes thinking about all the imagine double crosses that she could pull to keep the whole thing for herself. Why should she give him a single dollar when she could have it all for herself?
Finally he looked straight at her and asked, "What's my guarantee?"
Elly frowned.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "What kind of guar-entee?"
Mike knew full well that she knew what he meant. The way she pretended innocence made him all the more confident that he was wise to be careful in his dealing with this beautiful woman. She was not the kind to give away anything for nothing. And that included the favors locked between the curve of her silken thighs.
"I mean what keeps you from pulling out with the money and leaving me holding an empty bag?"
Elly smiled slowly and ran her hands down the front of her stomach to a point just above the juncture of her thighs. Her fingers rubbed slowly over the slight jut of her pubic mound. Mike could make out the ball of curls that decorated her lusty cunt beneath the light touch of her hands.
Immediately he was aware of the rush of blood to his stiffening cock. Twice, within the past hour he had plunged his pulsating ramrod into her meaty gash. Twice, within the past two hours he had poured his hot come into the slick tunnel of her vagina. And still he could not stop himself from being aroused at her provocative gestures. His own eagerness scared him.
"There's me," Elly said.
"That's no guarantee," Mike said. He was aware of the strange sound to his voice. He fought to control it. "Not enough?" Elly asked. "We could get married."
"Not enough," Mike said.
"What then?" There was a note of harshness to Elly's voice now. A note that had not been there a moment before.
Mike reached for his drink before answering. He drained the last few drops that were mostly melted ice by this time and set the glass back down on the table.
"How about this," he said. "We draw up an agreement. We just put down what we plan to do and we sign it. We both get copies. That way neither one of us can ditch tne other. If you decided to dump me, I show my copy to Allan's lawyers and you get some time in the women's reformatory for extortion and neither of us gets the money."
Mike expected her to argue. The suggestion that he had made was virtually useless as far as any sort of protection was concerned, but he was in a precarious position. He did not want any of this on paper, but he had to see how far Elly would go. If she bought the agreement in writing she was probably on the level. At least with him.
She surprised him by nodding her head.
"Fine," she said. "Get the papers typed up and we can sign them. But for God's sake be careful with them."
"If you can think of anything better..., " Mike said.
She shook her head and her loose blonde hair whipped around her face. She brushed at it with one hand.
Mike could not help but be amazed at the business-like attitude that she had now after what they had done just a few minutes before on the sofa. Her eyes were cool now and she was every bit the business woman. She seemed totally unaware of her lush woman's body beneath the robe.
She walked over and took his empty glass from his chair side table.
"Do you want another drink?"
Mike shook his head.
"Do you want anything else?"
Her meaning was unmistakable. But Mike could see that she was a woman offering sex now as a bribe. Something to satisfy the male animal and he wanted no part of it.
"No," he said, "I'll be on my way."
He got to his feet and Elly walked to the door with him.
At the door, she took Mike's hand and held it to her warm breast. He could feel her heart beating.
"Feel my tit, Mike." She lifted his hand and moved it to her other breast. "Feel them both. They're yours for as long as you want them."
Mike was aware of the firmness beneath his hand.
"And this too, darling," Elly said lifting his hand from her breast.
She placed his hand over the outthrust of her pubis. The pussy hair crinkled beneath Mike's hand. He felt an almost unbelievable heat pour from her.
Slowly she rotated her hips and ground herself into his hand.
"Any time you want it, Mike. Any time at all." Mike let his hand fall free.
"Don't worry," she said. "It will work out fine. We'll both have all the money we will ever need."
Mike looked down into her eyes and smiled.
"I'm not worried," he said. "I know what I'm doing."
Elly stood in the open doorway as Mike walked to his car. He waved to her as he turned out of the long curved driveway onto the street.
He wished that he felt as confident about the whole damn thing as he had pretended to be to Elly.
CHAPTER 2
Allan Farris' estate was about fifteen miles from home. He kept going over the proposition in his mind. For the life of him he could not see any flaws. There were some possible sources of slip-ups, that was for sure, but no matter how it was cut, Mike was sure that he would not be in hot water. Farris was the one who was playing around. Farris was the one who had to be careful.
However, there was more involved here than simply the mechanical considerations. The whole deal had a bad smell about it and even though Mike needed the money desperately he was not fully convinced in his own mind that he was the kind of person who could go through with this.
Driving through the night, Mike tried to take a good look at himself. Who am I, he wondered? What about that ugly word, blackmail? He tried it on himself to see how it fit. Blackmailer. Mike Reston, blackmailer. What the hell! Thousanus of wives divorced their husbands every day of the week and great numbers of them hired private detectives to get the goods on the old man and to get a few pictures of him sticking it into some strange twat.
But Mike could not dismiss it that easily and it remained in a comer of his mind as a source of vague discomfort.
The only other problem, as Mike saw it, was getting his share of the money. He felt more and more confident that the hold he had over Elly would be enough to insure that he got his fair share. Even if the whole deal fell through, all that Mike would be out would be the time spent rigging the deal. A warm flush in his belly made him think of the time spent on the sofa with Elly and he knew that that would make up for any small change that he might lose.
Mike had come out of the Marine Corps two years earlier and he was still trying to get his life in order. He had enjoyed the freedom that his service days had given him, but now he wanted something else. Something with a bit more structure to it. Now, after two years, he had a small construction outfit. His company did small jobs and when anything came along that was too big Mike subcontracted to a couple of his friends in town rather than skip it all together and get a reputation for being just another small time operation. He did most of the planning and selling for the company on his own and he had a full time crew of about fifteen men. If he ever needed more men it was usually an easy matter of hiring them by the week. There were usually plenty of willing workers around.
Aside from a good contact here and there and a couple of trucks with his name printed on the side there was not much to the construction company. But the way the town was growing there was a lot of money to be made in Harbor City. Mike wanted to be ready to take advantage of the prosperous times that were coming.
Mike drove slowly through the residential area that surrounded the building where his apartment was. It was still early and a light spring breeze blew through the car. Strollers walked slowly along the sidewalks as if eager to take advantage of every breath of spring now that winter had gone at last. In spite of the heavy weight on his mind, Mike felt good. His spirits were high. He was happiest when he was busy. He had learned long ago that he accomplished the most when he had to budget his time carefully and the loads and demands on him were the heaviest.
He pulled up in front of the apartment and parked the car. That's a nice thing about a town that is not too big, he thought, no problem with parking. He locked the car and entered the building.
On the elevator he nodded to two attractive young girls he knew by sight only. Someone had recently mentioned that they had taken an apartment on his floor. He was home so rarely that he didn't even know them. They smiled coolly at him, then ignored him.
Mike's apartment was on the third floor along with three others. He unlocked the door to his place and dropped his light spring jacket over the soft overstuffed chair in front of the television set. Mike seldom watched television, but he liked to have the set there. Occasionally he would fall asleep in the big chair with a can of beer in his hand while watching the late show. That was the best cure for insomnia there was. Mike smiled. If he could figure some way to put it in bottles and sell it he could become a millionaire overnight. He got a beer out of the refrigerator in the kitchen and flopped down in the big chair. He tried to go over the whole Farris set up again, but he got bored with it. He finished the beer and went to sleep.
CHAPTER 3
The alarm emitted a strident scream at seven thirty the next morning. Mike reached out one hand to shut off the insistent noise and knocked the clock to the floor. With a muttered oath he swung out of bed and made his way slowly to the shower. He stepped inside the glass enclosure and, with a twist of his wrist, turned the shower on full blast with the cold water. A good icy jet of water drove the sleep out of him and he dressed quickly in a pair of slacks and sport shirt. No one in Harbor City dressed up for work on Saturday.
Mike fixed himself some eggs with half a pound of bacon on the side and cup of strong black coffee. When he had finished eating he piled the dishes in the sink, ran some water over them and left them to soak. Satisfied and fully awake, he left the apartment and drove to his office. It took a conscientious effort to keep from thinking about the night before which he had spent with Elly and the worries that it brought to him. But Mike fixed his mind on the cool morning breeze and the smells of the fresh new grass that filled the air and put Elly and her fantastic plot against her husband out of his mind.
It was Saturday and no one would be in the office. Mike would have a clear field to get through the huge piles of paper work that seemed to come from out of nowhere to land on his cluttered desk. He had had no idea that there were so many forms to fill out, so many papers to read and understand.
Mike looked around his office. Office? It was more like a hole in the wall. The small room held only Mike's desk, along with a soft swivel chair and a large heavy-duty filing cabinet. But the room served its purj pose. There was no money for anything imagine and Mike himself did not mind the spartan quality of the facilities. In addition to the office that Mike occupied there was a small place just outside the doorway where there was room for a small desk and typing table. Mike's secretary worked there but she would not be in until Monday. There was often not enough work to keep her busy for five days a week, let alone Saturdays.
Mike slumped down in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. He reached out and grabbed the sheet of papers and notes that Ginny had left the day before. He threw away most of the notices that were of no interest to him and selected several among them on which he would offer a bid. There were two county jobs that had been announced. He knew that he had hardly any chance of getting them since they were tied up with the political machine in the state and Mike had no real contacts in the state political hierarchy. Not yet anyway. But soon. Soon it would all break for him. Mike entered his bids. He made one much too high and one almost foolishly low just to see what would happen. He knew that he would probably not even get an acknowledgement of the bids, but he had to see what would happen. The formalities were necessary and the submission of the bids had the added advantage of making his name known in the circle into which he wanted to break.
After that Mike cleared through the rest of his paper work. Time passed almost unnoticed. The problem was the same whichever way he turned. It did not matter what he was working on. He always came right smack up against the same old thing. He needed money. He needed money to buy equipment. He needed money to hire men. He needed money to make money. And that was the real reason that Elly Farris' proposition sounded so good to him.
Dammit! Otherwise he would spend his life scratching for peanuts. The chance might never come again. He had to grab at it.
When Mike finally looked up from the catalogues and papers on which he had been figuring costs and looked at his watch it was nearly one o'clock. Enough for a Saturday he decided, so he stuffed the papers into one of the desk drawers, locked the office and headed for home.
Mike drove directly home. He entered the building and rode the elevator to the third floor.
Good, God, he thought, how long since I last walked these two lousy flights of stairs. He was honestly ashamed of himself.
He stopped with the key out of his pocket in front of his door and looked down the hall. He put the key back into his pocket and walked the few feet to the next apartment and knocked on the door.
"It's not locked," he heard a voice say. "Come in."
Mike walked into the living room almost exactly like his own. The only noticeable difference was that the furniture was much nicer and reflected more feminine tastes. Mike crossed the room to the bedroom door. He peeked around the half closed door.
Sandy Barris was still in bed with the sheet pulled up to her chin.
"What if I was a wild rapist?" Mike asked with a grin. "And you with your door open like that."
"Mmmmm," the girl on the bed said, pretending to mull Mike's question over in her mind. "A rapist? What kind?"
"I don't know for Christ's sake," Mike said. "What kinds are there?"
Sandy giggled. She pretended to count on her fingers.
"Oh, there are blondes and redheads, short ones and-fat ones and well built ones and ... oh, just ever so many. I think that I like the red-headed ones best though."
Mike ran his hand through his sandy hair.
The girl made a face at him and smiled impishly.
"To tell you the truth, I've never been disappointed by brown-haired rapists either. Yes, now that I think about it a rapist might not be such a bad idea after all."
Mike crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her.
He gave her hair a tousle and she squeezed his hand.
"Work hard today?" she asked.
"Routine. The usual Saturday," Mike replied.
Mike had met Sandy the day he had moved into his apartment nearly ten months ago. She had seen him trying to get all of his things in and came over to make a cup of coffee for the two of them.
"If your coffee is as bad as your interior decorating," she had said as she handed him a cup of coffee, "you should really appreciate this."
Mike had accepted it gratefully.
"God," he had said after a sip. "A treat like this deserves another. Let me pay you back with dinner tonight. If you're not busy, that is."
Sandy had agreed to go with him and they sat around Mike's apartment for much of the day exchanging small talk and finding that they like each other. They had gone to dinner and the theater and dancing many nights after that. Their relationship had progressed smoothly to the point where Mike could now come in and find her in bed as if she had been waiting for him. He knew that was a distinct possibility because along with all the other discoveries he had made about Sandy was that she was a hot blooded girl as ready to a roll in bed as he was most of the time. And she was good at it.
As if reading his thoughts she said, "I've been waiting for you." Mike smiled.
"How about you? How come you're still in bed? Haven't you got anything better to do on a Saturday morning than to stay there?"
Sandy reached for a cigarette from the pack on the night table next to the bed. Mike lit it for her. Briefly the picture of Elly waiting for him to light her cigarette the night before flashed through his mind and was as quickly gone.
"Old Fuddsy is out of town," Sandy said. "He gave me the morning off."
Old Fuddsy was Fred Neece, the lawyer that Sandy worked for.
"Well, are you going to get out of that bed or not?" Mike asked.
Sandy smiled an elfin grin and said, "To tell you the truth, that pretty much depends on what staying in bed might lead to."
Mike played along with her.
"Makes your muscles soft," he said. "No exercise is bad for the figure."
Sandy took Mike's hand and put it over a graceful mound of the sheet.
"Does that feel too soft to you," she said.
Mike squeezed gently. He felt the soft, but yielding fullness of her breast in his hand. The nipple was fully erect against his palm.
"When you put it that way it does seem as if some parts of you are just as they should be, but I would have to explore this much farther before I could make anything certain about this case."
"Okay, doctor," Sandy said. "You do that. Explore all the angles of the case. Do whatever you have to do. Poke wherever you want to poke. I have plenty of time." She reached over to the night table and snubbed out her cigarette. Then she settled back on the bed and lay quietly. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Mike looked at her.
She squirmed beneath the sheet and it slipped from one shoulder baring one firm round breast Sandy looked down at her breast and she and Mike both-watched with interest as the pink nipple grew larger and more rigid than it had been before.
"There's a place to start your exploration," the girl said, her voice getting husky.
Mike placed his hand over her breast and rubbed it gently. His fingers toyed with the firm turgid nipple and Sandy made little sounds of pleasure as Mike manipulated her flesh.
"My other doctor doesn't examine me like this," she said breathlessly.
"He damn well better not," Mike said.
He bent over and ran his lips over the trembling mound. His tongue flicked out at the nipple and lapped at it gently. Sandy's arms encircled his neck and she drew his head to hers. He kissed her full clean mouth and worked his tongue deeply inside. Lifting her arms had caused the sheet to fall to Sandy's waist and both lovely breasts were bared.
Mike reached between them and cupped them with his hands. They seemed to fit perfectly. His palms chaffed at the passion-filled nipples and he could feel the beautiful girl's hips begin to writhe next to him.
Their mouths fused together and their tongues darted against each other. Mike lay down full length next to Sandy. They both breathed heavily. Mike moved down to the hollow of her neck and he bit her gently. She trembled and dug her fingers into his back. Mike moved still further down until both her luscious breasts were in front of him and he went to work on one mound with his mouth while his fingers toyed with the other. He pulled gently on her nipples and Sandy arched her back and pressed her breasts up against his mouth and hand.
"Yes, yes, like that," she said. "It's so sensitive. I can feel it all the way down in my cunt. Suck, Mike, Suck Oh, Oh." Her words were replaced with a ragged gasp.
Mike continued to work over her breasts as he struggled to pull the sheet off the rest of her squirming body. He felt her fingers on his belt buckle, loosening it, trying to reach inside to grab his swollen cock.
"I want to feel your prick," Sandy managed to croak through her rising tide of passion.
Her hand tore at his zipper.
Mike ran his hand over the smooth curve of her belly, still working avidly on her breasts. Her heaving chest pushed the straining mounds up to him. The nipples had filled till they were nearly the size of large strawberries. Slowly, Mike let his hand trail over the bowl of her belly and trace lines of fire down the out-sides of her thighs. Her legs moved apart eager for his touch. Between the soft thighs Mike could see the light pink of her cunt beneath the fluff of soft pussy hair. Sandy's legs opened wider as if she could not control them and she flung her hips into the air firmly and steadily.
But Mike took his time.
It was always good with Sandy and Mike wanted to reach a fever peak before he finally possessed her. He knew that they both were getting close, however. Sandy had succeeded in freeing his hard penis from his pants and was squeezing it eagerly. Her fingers firmly gripped the shaft and rubbed it up and down in a way that she knew Mike liked. Ever so gently she let the tips of her fingers rub the sensitive head of the large cock sending thrills of pleasure shooting through her lover.
God, he loved her body! It often overwhelmed him. He could not get enough of it. He left her breast with his mouth and trailed his tongue down over the soft belly and lingered briefly at her navel.
"OHHHHH!" she said, her voice almost a scream. She knew what was going to happen. Her legs opened as wide as possible. Her cunt was spread open for him. The insides of her thighs were bathed in light moisture that seeped from the pouting lips of her yearning pussy. The darker outer lips were parted and swollen in excitement. At the upper juncture of the sweet pink inner lips Mike could see the little nubbin of her clitoris twitching slightly as Sandy's cunt moved in anticipatory spasms.
"Suck me, Mike. Suck my cunt." The words poured from her lips begging for his caress. Hearing her speak the sexy provocative words, hearing her beg for his pleasure-giving touch poured excitement like fire into Mike's veins.
His lips moved into her pussy hair. He could smell the fragrance of her now as he neared her dripping honey pot.
"Do it now," she moaned.
Mike bent lower.
The girl's pelvis worked furiously.
Her open gaping cunt was thrust up to him.
A warm sob broke from her mouth as Mike made contact with her. She ground her sopping pussy against his open mouth.
"Oooooohhh," she cried. "Don't ever stop."
Mike held her hips with his hands as her fingers twined in his hair. He ran his tongue around the outer opening and lapped briefly at her clitoris. Then with his tongue rigid he rammed it up into the girl's vagina. He could feel the muscles of her cunt as they gripped his thrusting tongue.
Sandy continued to murmur little sounds, but even if she had been making any sensible words Mike would not have heard nor understood her as he gave all his senses over to the total experience of the sex act with Sandy.
Moisture continued to pour from the lovely girl's heated point of pleasure. Cunt juice smeared the lower half of Mike's face.
Then it was time.
Mike lifted his face from between Sandy's legs and looked at her. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, drawing deep ragged breaths. Sweat bathed her forehead. Her hands clutched uselessly at the sheets of the bed.
Mike rose above her, kneeling between her wide open legs. Sandy opened her eyes and they were deep pools of sensual delight as she received him. Eagerly she reached for his cock with one hand and pulled him to her cunt. He lodged the head of his rammer in the groove and pushed firmly.
Sandy's vagina was so well lubricated that he met no resistance as he thrust into her. Quickly she wrapped her long slim legs around his hips. Slowly at first, and then faster Mike moved his huge rod in and out of Sandy's love canal. As they fucked they moved more rapidly and Sandy began a series of rotary movements that brought her entire genital area into contact with either Mike's fast moving cock or her pubic area. He could feel his balls slap gently against the cheeks of Sandy's ass as he thrust into her.
"Suck my tit, Mike," she managed to gasp. It was obvious that she wanted the fullest stimulation that, was possible.
Mike bent his head and took the swollen tip of her tit into his mouth and sucked hard.
"Coming. Coming soon," the girl croaked.
Mike's own orgasm was only seconds away. He felt the pressure build. His entire being was centered in his loins as he brought himself and the girl beneath him to a climax.
"OH, BABY," Sandy screamed and then her her head flopped back and she gave a series of prolonged convulsive shakes that seemed to last for a full minute. Her orgasm triggered Mike and he gave himself up to an explosive release that caused him to shoot his heavy load deep within Sandy's spasming pussy. The intensity of his orgasm surprised him. He could feel the jets of hot come as they spurted forth from the end of his prick. It seemed to go on for ever.
For a long time there was only silence. Sandy's fingers played absently over Mike's chest and he rested one hand at the lower part of her stomach just at the fringe of her cunt hair.
Sandy moved slightly and ran her hand down to Mike's now soft cock. She held it tenderly. Then she lifted herself up and turned around so that she could study it closely. It fascinated her. With gentle movements she rubbed it. It was still moist and covered with sperm as well as the juice from her own pussy.
Mike stirred beneath her caress.
Sandy bent over and took the soft penis into her mouth. She teased it with her tongue. She felt it begin to stiffen in her mouth and she released it.
"Hey," Mike protested. "What's this?"
Sandy reversed herself and threw herself on top of
Mike.
"I love your prick," she said impishly. "I was sucking it."
"I know," Mike said. "It is not something that you can hide from a man."
"Mike?" Sandy said hesitantly. "What?"
"Can we do something sometime? I mean something that we haven't done yet."
"What is it?"
"You won't be upset with me or think I'm silly." Mike smiled. "Of course not."
"Well, I've sucked your prick a lot. Remember how I had trouble getting used to it at first." She laughed. "Not anymore."
"What do you want to do?" Mike asked.
Sandy swallowed.
"I want to suck you all the way. I want you to come in my mouth. I want all of you in my mouth."
"I'd love that Sandy," Mike said. "I just never asked because I was afraid that you might not want to."
"I do though."
Mike was pleased.
"I just thought that maybe you wouldn't want to," Sandy said.
"Christ no," Mike exclaimed. Then he laughed. "You're terrific," he said. The girl laughed too.
"Remember the first time that you made me come by sucking my cunt?" she asked.
"You liked it," Mike said. "Wow, did you ever like it."
"Like it," Sandy snorted. "I thought I'd die from pleasure." She seemed to blush slightly. "I was kind of silly back then, I guess. When I was in high school I would hear all the other girls talking about how they had fucked this guy or how this other fellow had eaten her in the back seat of the car at the drive-in or something like that and I figured that they must be a lot cooler than I was. I seemed never to be able to just let myself go. I had a lot of hang ups for a long time." She paused.
"Until you came along, darling," she added.
Mike was pleased. He liked this girl and he was happy to see her respond in this way.
Again they were silent for a while. After a time they both drifted off into sleep. Mike awoke before Sandy and went into the shower and took a quick splash under the full cold spray.
When he returned from the bathroom to the bed Sandy was just opening her eyes. She was still naked and was a stimulating sight stretched out cat-like on the large bed. Her cunt hair was matted and still damp from their previous love making.
"Sleepy head," Mike laughed.
"What time is it? I'm too groggy to even turn my head and look at the clock."
"Almost four."
Mike stretched out on the bed beside her.
Sandy sat up and leaned against the headboard. She seemed unconcerned about the fact that her full breasts dangled just inches from Mike's mouth.
"We're good together, aren't we, Mike?" she asked.
Mike felt his muscles tense slightly. He knew from past experience with other women where this could . lead. If a woman starts to think that you make a good team in one area she is often thinking that you might make a good team in other areas as well and that you might just as well make your relationship a permanent one. Mike was not sure that he was ready for any commitment of that sort yet.
Apparently Sandy saw Mike's tension because she reached out and slapped at his shoulder.
"Oh, don't be such a silly goose," she told him. "I'm not going to gobble all your masculine prerogatives. I was just talking about something that I enjoy very much. Fair enough?" .
"Fair enough," Mike replied and smiled that he did not take anything too seriously.
For a moment Sandy was silent. Mike feared that he had been too severe in the message that he had wordlessly communicated to her.
When she finally did speak however it was obvious that her thoughts had turned to other things.
"Mike, do you know those two girls down the hall in apartment four?"
Mike knew who she meant. The two girls he had seen on the elevator. They seemed a little too remote, too standoffish for his taste. They both seemed to be in the mid-twenties and they were both quite pretty in a hard sort of way. They seemed to be very capable girls, as if they could very well take care of themselves.
"Yes, I know who you mean."
"Uh huh, Kitty and Carol," Sandy said. She was silent for a moment. Then in a whisper she said, "Mike, they're lesbians."
Mike smiled. He shook his head and looked at Sandy with a frown of disbelief.
"Not every pair of single girls living together are lesbians, you know," he told her.
Sandy arched her eyebrows and adopted a knowing look.
"They might even be sisters," Mike protested weakly.
"No, they're not," Sandy said firmly.
"You know, Sandy," Mike said, "I've read that the real queers are the ones that don't seem like it on the street. Those two look tough, but they both are still quite feminine and toughness alone doesn't make them homosexuals."
'Mike did not give a damn about the two girls one way or another. But he was fellow who had always been jealous of his privacy and he figured that if he expected other people to lave him alone then he had better mind his own business when it came to other people's affairs, business, personal or sexual. Whatever the two girls chose to do in the privacy of their own bedroom, or living room for that matter, was between them and was their own business.
Sandy seemed to think about what he had said for a brief moment, but then she shook her head.
"Mike, you don't understand," she said with a trace of impatience. "I saw them. Last night when I was getting ready for bed, I heard a noise behind the ventilator duct. I was afraid that it was mice or even a rat or something so I climbed up on the edge of a chair to peek in. All that's in that opening is space in the wall between the two apartments to let the fresh air circulate. The opening into each apartment is covered with a wire screen. The light was on in the other bedroom and I could see right into their apartment. They had a dresser with a mirror set that I could see the bed reflected in the mirror."
She paused in her story to look at Mike and to measure his reaction. He knew where she was headed, but he kept his mouth shut and just listened. It was clear to him that Sandy was getting excited now just telling the story. He wanted to see what it would do to her.
She got up onto her knees on the bed. Mike's eyes were drawn to the quivering tips of his breasts.
Sandy noted where Mike was looking and laughed playfully. She reached out and tilted his head so that she could capture his eyes with her own.
"Listen to what I have to say first," she protested, "and look at me when I'm talking to you."
"I was looking at you," Mike said.
"But at the wrong part of me."
Sandy paused as if to collect her thoughts. Then she continued.
"I could see their bed. Mike, they were just lying there doing it."
Mike pretended to be puzzled.
"Doing what?" he asked with a straight face, feeling the laughter bubble up inside of him. Sandy was trying to be serious.
"Mike," Sandy said with exasperation. "They were making love like lesbians. They were kissing and touching and doing everything to each other. God!"
"Everything?" Mike asked with a smile.
Sandy had to grin.
"Well, not everything," she said. They were both girls after all. But I could see their cunts and tits and everything. One of them, I think it was Kitty was sort of giving orders to the other one. She would tell her to kiss her breasts or to suck her nipples or to lick her clitoris and stuff like that. And then they turned around on each other and must have been sucking each other's pussys. I saw their heads between each other's legs, but they sort of blocked the view for me so I don't really know. I wasn't even sure that girls did that sort of thing to each other. I had had heard about it like everybody else. But I never saw it happen."
"And you watched them?" Mike asked.
Sandy hesitated for a moment, then nodded her head,-her eyes downcast in guilt.
"Yes," she said at last in a weak voice.
"And did you like what you saw?"
Again the young girl hesitated. Finally, she spoke. "Yes, yes I did. It was a funny thing. I liked it. I mean not like I wanted to do it, but, God, Mike, I watched for about ten minutes. One minute my stomach shivered and the next minute I was all excited. I could feel my own juices in my vagina start to flow. Later, when I finished undressing I found my panties all wet from my juice. I found myself wishing that you were there and we could watch them together and then make love. It really excited me."
Mike could understand how Sandy felt. There is a part in all people that makes them like seeing forbidden things. It is part of learning and wanting to know what it is all about. It wasn't much different than the kicks a man gets from watching a strip tease show or like in this case, a couple of women who don't know that they are presenting a show for an audience. A psychologist had told Mike one time that there is a bit of the voyeur and the exhibitionist in all of us. There was nothing unusual in a man wanting to see the sweet pink lips of a cute girl's pussy and to maybe imagine sticking his cock into her, too. Mike supposed that the same would be true for a girl, too.
Sandy sat on the bed now with her arms wrapped around her and she shivered a little. Mike could see that just telling him about it made the images come back into her mind and she was excited about it again. She had involuntarily opened her legs to give him a look at the pouting lips of her slit.
To stop anything from developing right then he swung his feet out of the bed and stood up.
Sandy's eyes widened in surprise.
"Where are you going?" she asked. Mike could see that she had clearly expected something else.
"It's a shame to waste such a nice day like this," he said with a smile. "Hungry?"
Sandy looked at his still swollen cock.
"Yes," she said letting her tongue flick out to lick her lips in a gesture that needed no explanation.
Mike grinned.
"I mean for food."
"Well ... I ... , " Sandy began and then her face brightened and she jumped out of bed. Her smooth soft figure almost caused Mike to have some second thoughts, but he covered them by going to the chair with his clothes on it and stepping into his shorts.
"Okay," Sandy said. "I really could use something to eat. Other than you, I mean."
She padded into the bathroom and Mike heard the shower run for a few minutes. When she came back out she was in her bra and panties. Mike was dressed and waiting for her.
"How should I dress," she asked.
"Do you have anything special that you'd like to do?" Mike asked her. He wanted to be sure that she felt no displeasure over the fact that he had turned down her favors a moment before. It never did to let a girl brood about the fact that there was even one other thing in the world that you would rather do than to sink your cock into her eager cunt.
"Nothing special," she said.
"Then what say we stop at Leo's, get a couple of barbecued chickens, a case of cold beer and go out to the lake and have a picnic? We can eat, drink, swim and maybe come back into town and go to a movie later on tonight."
"Swim?" Sandy cried. "Swim? The water must still be frozen solid." Mike laughed.
"It was nearly seventy-five degrees outside at noon. The water will be warm enough."
Sandy stuck her tongue out at him.
"Big man," she mocked. "Big polar bear. Cut a hole in the ice and go swimming even if it's a hundred below zero."
But she walked over to her dresser and took a brief bathing suit from the bottom drawer and wrapped it in a huge beach towel. She pulled a red and white striped tee shirt over her head and put on a pair of red shorts. Then she ran a comb through her hair quickly and turned to Mike with a bright smile on her face.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," she said. "How do I look?"
With her hands on her hips she twirled around.
"Good enough to eat."
Sandy eyed him with a glint of amusement in her pretty eyes.
She pretended to unbutton her shorts.
"Make up your mind," she taunted. "Whatever you prefer."
Mike laughed aloud, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the apartment.
They stopped at Mike's apartment to get a swimming suit for him. He did not think that they would need suits actually. By the time that they were ready to get into the water it would probably be dark outside. But just in case and just to keep up the front he took his suit along.
Sandy had her funny quirks. They could sleep together all afternoon and she would let him fuck her and would even suck his cock, but if he suggested that they go swimming naked she might take offense and quite seriously get angry with Mike for treating her like a floozy. Some women are nuts, Mike mused. They have to preserve their self images. The wildest whore can get fiercely angry when somebody calls her a whore and the most prissy maiden who won't even look at her own tits when she washed them in the bath tub can get a real kick out of it when she knows that some man thinks that she may be a real hellion in bed. So who wants to give all the time and trouble needed to figure women out anyway.
CHAPTER 4
The lake and small park were about seven miles from their apartment building. They stopped at Leo's and got a couple of chickens wrapped in aluminum foil, some fruit and a case of beer. Mike loaded it into the trunk of his car.
Leo was an ex-fighter, now gone all to fat and he watched them load the food and beer into the car.
"Picnic?" he asked. Before they could answer he went on. "Too damned early for picnics. Never been on a damn picnic in my life anyway. Waste of time."
"How do you know?" Mike asked good naturedly. "You don't even haul yourself outside at all anymore."
Leo shrugged as if he recognized a hopeless cause and turned to go back inside.
Mike took his time driving through the city. It was nearly forty-five minutes before they were on the black topped road to the lake park. The day was still warm.
The tee shirt that Sandy wore molded her breasts and the pair of red shorts hugged her firm, but ample hips snugly. She wore her chestnut hair rather short. It never needed much work. Sometimes, with her short hair and no makeup on her face she looked like a soft faced boy, but all Mike had to do was glance down at her chest to get back on the right track.
Mike's mind drifted. He could imagine his hands running up to grab the fullness of those heavy breasts. His cock grew in his pants. God, he thought, can't I ever forget about it? I just fucked her. But the images that appeared in his mind would not leave. He imagined that he could actually see his large cock head deep inside Sandy's heated cunt. He saw the rough flesh of her vagina rubbed smooth by the passage of his turgid shaft. He could see her muscles spasm and contract as the young girl came, her climax causing his own to burst full upon him: From the opening at the tip of his prick he watched as the great jets of milky white sperm shot out to bathe the walls of Sandy's pussy. His excitement grew as he watched the thick gobs of come ejaculate into the pink cavern.
Reluctantly Mike shook his head to clear the images from his mind. There would be much more time for that later on. But he was surprised at the intensity of his reaction to the girl that sat beside him. It had been greater even than his reaction to Elly the night before. And that had been considerable.
Sandy lay sprawled on the seat with her head halfway out the window. She had a lazy dreamy look on her face. Mike felt a sense of well-being creep over him and it was with a start that he realized what he was planning with Elly. The afternoon had been so casual and carefree that he had forgotten all about it. He tried to push it from his mind, but the thoughts came back to tug at him. He was glad when they finally got to the park and found a place for the car. They had to walk about a half mile to the beach down a winding rocky path. The trees had all of their leaves already and the birds made cheerful sounds as they raced about overhead.
Mike and Sandy got the food, beer and a blanket out of the trunk and walked down the winding path to the lake. Sandy walked ahead and Mike enjoyed watching the saucy bounce of her buttocks encased in the snug shorts as she tried to hold herself erect on the rocky path.
Lake of the Woods was a large lake about twenty miles long and nearly as wide. For the most part, it was surrounded by thick growths of fir and pine trees. There were a number of natural sandy beaches scattered along the miles of its shores and it was a popular place for relaxation for a large part of the southeastern corner of the state. It was a popular fishing spot, with its twenty miles length, but a start of a good wind could turn it choppy and turbulent. A number of boats and lives had been lost when a innocent calm day lured a boat too far out and then changed into a bitter squall.
Now the water was cool blue and there was no one on the beach. In the far distance two children were tossing food to the ducks that swam along the shoreline.
Mike bent down to feel the water temperature. "It's still chilly," he said.
"I'm not sure I want to go in anyway," Sandy said reluctantly.
Mike splashed a handful of water at her.
She jumped aside with a scream.
"Mike! Don't. It's cold."
Mike laughed, but he did not splash anymore.
In another couple of weeks this small part of the same beach would be crawling with shouting children and middle-aged women stuffed into outlandish bathing suits two sizes too small for them. They would be trying to soak up the sun and get a tan. But for now, Mike and Sandy had the beach to themselves. The children in the distance had disappeared.
The sky was a clear blue with a few puffy lazy white clouds scattered about. There was a gentle wind that was just right to keep them cool.
"It's beautiful, Mike," Sandy said. "I'm glad we decided to come."
"We?" Mike roared.
Sandy laughed. "Well, I'm glad that you talked me into it. Does that sound better?" Mike reached for her hand.
"Let's leave the food for a while. We can go and feed the ducks."
"What?" Sandy said surprised
"Haven't you ever fed the ducks?" Mike asked, an odd boyish grin on his face.
"Not for a long time," Sandy admitted, "but I'm game if you are."
Hand in hand they ran down the beach. They stopped at a concession stand hidden behind an outcropping of trees and bought two large bags of bread crumbs.
They walked to the water's edge and Mike tossed an open handful of bread crumbs onto the surface of the water.
The ducks swam toward them quickly.
"Oh, Mike," Sandy squealed. "This is marvelous."
She reached into the bag of bread crumbs and threw a small fistful to the ducks that swam at the edge of the water. The birds ate the crumbs greedily.
Mike watched happily as Sandy fed the birds. Not satisfied with what they were getting, several of the larger white ducks clawed their way out of the water and up the shallow bank. They milled eagerly around Sandy's feet.
"Ohh! Look at the big one," she cried. "Mike, do they bite?"
"Only if you bite them first," Mike replied.
Sandy emptied one of the bags on the ground and the ducks fluttered wildly fighting for the scraps that remained.
They passed the half hour feeding the rest of the other bag of bread to the hungry ducks.
At last Sandy turned to Mike and said, "Let's go back to the blanket."
They walked along the beach slowly, hand in hand.
Mike spread the blanket out on the ground while Sandy unpacked the lunch that they had brought with them. She got out the paper plates that she had brought from her apartment and they helped themselves to the chicken. Mike opened a couple of beers. The food tasted good and they were both hungry.
Sandy tried to be as domestic as possible, but the napkins and plastic forks that she set down were whipped up and carried away by the wind.
After they had eaten Mike stretched out on the blanket Sandy lay down beside him.
It was getting dark now. They lay on their backs and looked up at the stars that were becoming visible.
"It looks so big," Sandy said, her voice soft.
"What is?" Mike asked startled.
"Oh, out there," Sandy replied and gestured with her hand at the heavens. "It makes me feel so small and insignificant just lying here. I enjoy this, but I even get dizzy. It's as if I can feel the whole earth turning and I have to hang on or get thrown off."
Her voice droned on, but Mike could not keep his attention on it. His mind was on other things. He could not help wondering why Elly had chosen him for this thing with her husband. Why not somebody else? Why not just set it up herself and keep all the money rather than drag in a partner and have to split up the take. I just did not make sense. It was too damn easy. Hell, she was just making him a gift of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Sure he had to do a little work, but not a quarter of a million dollars worth.
He felt Sandy's hand reach out for his to hold it.
"Mike?"
"Hmmmm?"
"What are you thinking about."
"Nothing. Just resting."
"But you must be thinking about something," she prodded.
Mike rolled over on his side and faced her. She looked up at him with her eyes open wide. She smiled.
"I was thinking about money," he said. "A whole lot of money. And I was thinking about how much I would like to have it."
Sandy regarded him silently for a moment.
"You know, Mike," she said, "You're funny. I mean, sometimes I just can't figure you out." Her forehead wrinkled in a frown. "What money were you thinking about?"
"Oh, none in particular," he lied easily. "I was just wondering how it would be to be rich. To have all the money you wanted so that you could buy and have anything that suited your imagine."
Sandy's face relaxed. She could understand this kind of fantasy.
"What would you buy with all the money you were thinking about," she asked.
"I'd buy you the biggest present in the world," he said as he swung to his feet eager to be done with this line of talk now that it had gone this far.
"Let's swim," he suggested.
They looked up and down the beach and saw that it was empty.
Mike looked at Sandy. She was looking at him with a sexy grin on her lips. Mike waited for her to say it.
"There is nobody here," she said. "We could swim naked."
"Just what I was thinking," Mike answered.
Sandy crossed her arms over her head and pulled up her shirt. There was just enough light left from the moon and stars so that Mike could see her clearly. Her lace bra could hardly contain the firm jutting mounds of her breasts. The large tits strained at their unnatural prison. Sandy hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and struggled to pull them down. Her breasts jiggled pleasantly as she tugged at the tight shorts. Then she stood there in just her bra and panties. There was something wildly exciting about seeing her there in the dim light almost naked except for the bra and wisp of white around her loins. Mike was aware of this and wondered about it since he had seen her naked so many times in the past. His hand and fingers had explored every crevice and opening in her glorious body. Now here she was exciting him while she still had her breasts and luscious cunt concealed from his gaze. His mouth was dry as he watched her.
She looked up at him.
"Well, come on," she said. "You, too."
Mike felt his cock begin to harden in his pants.
He was still fully dressed. He had been staring at her. She waited now until he began to unbutton his shirt. Then she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. She let the cups fall away from her firm globes slowly, knowing that Mike was watching. The straps slid down her arms and the bra dropped to the sand. Mike stood still as he saw a combination of the wind caressing her and a tingle of excitement cause the nipples of her breasts to enlarge and harden into sharp points.
"Do you like them?" she asked. "Do you like my breasts?"
Mike could only nod his head in agreement.
"Look at the nipples, Mike. See how hard they are."
Her fingers plucked lightly at the dark buds that tipped her full breasts.
Mike swallowed.
"Now the rest," Sandy breathed.
With a quick movement she stepped out of her panties and, throwing them at Mike, made a mad dash for the water. He had only an instant to catch a glimpse of the heavy bush of light hair that covered her pussy. But the sight of it was enough to cause his prick to swell further, causing him to hurry and pull his own pants off so that his rod would be free as well as to allow him to follow her into the water.
"Last one in carries the rest of the beer back to the car," Sandy yelled as Mike struggled with his clothes in a frenzy. Fuck the beer, he thought. That was one of the last things on his mind. He got his legs free of his pants and ran after the girl as she raced for the water. They hit the cold water almost together.
"It's freezing," Sandy cried.
It was cold. Mike felt his ardor begin to cool. The temperature of the water had not been too bad on his naked hand a while back, but the shock as it hit his cock and balls was immense. He let the thoughts of Sandy's tits and cunt fade for a moment from his immediate thoughts.
Mike tried to keep his teeth from chattering.
He surfaced from a shallow dive and teased, "It's not cold. Women are supposed to have an extra layer of fat to insulate them anyhow."
Sandy said something, but the sounds of her splashing in the water blotted out most of her words.
Mike floated on his back for a few minutes. Then he rolled over and slipped into an easy overhand crawl stroke. He never went in much for team athletics. He had played football and did the shot-put in track and field in high school, but he liked individual private exercise better, so he had always swam a great deal. He had not been in the water since last fall, but as he stretched his arms and kicked his legs, he felt the rhythm of the movements coming back and he kept up the powerful strokes until he was out about a hundred and fifty yards.
The farther out he went the colder the water got, but as he worked he felt his muscles loosen up and he felt much better. He stopped and looked back at the beach and could not see Sandy. It was too dark and he could just barely make out the white sand of the beach nearly two hundred yards away. He knew that Sandy would be splashing around in some shallow area so he began to swim back to shore.
Going in was tougher. He was out of shape and the swim had eaten up most of his energy reserve. He was snorting and puffing like a steam engine when he saw Sandy about twenty-five yards from the shore.
She was treading water and was out of breath.
"Where were you?" she asked. She swallowed a mouthful of water and choked on it. Then she cleared her throat.
"I was just stretching out a little," he told her.
"I was beginning to worry. I'm not much good as a lifeguard you know."
"That's not the basis of my interest in you," Mike managed to say on the air taken in one short gasp.
"Are you tired?"
"I'm almost dead."
"You went out too far. You're not a fish. And you're not a teenage boy anymore either. You have to get used to exercise."
They were still treading water and Mike was eager to get back to firm ground.
"Let's swim back to shore," he said.
Mike swam slowly allowing Sandy to keep pace. Even as tired as he was he was a more powerful swimmer. They touched bottom about ten yards from the beach. Overhead the moon was a pale circle. Mike looked around to get oriented, trying to find the blanket where they had left it. A movement caught his eye.
"Hey," Mike yelled.
"What is it?" Sandy cried, trying to get her hair out of her eyes.
Mike ignored her and started to run through the water, but he moved too abruptly and stumbled. When he got to his feet he saw that there were two figures running along the beach. One of them was carrying the case of unfinished beer that they had left.
Mike started to run again and was suddenly conscious of his nakedness. He slowed down. What the hell, he thought. A couple of teen-agers. Let them have the beer.
Sandy came up to his side.
"Who is it, Mike?"
"Nobody," he said. "Probably just a couple of kids walking down the beach and they stumbled onto our beer. They didn't see us so they ran off with it. No big loss."
"Well, if you're sure," Sandy sounded dubious.
"What else could it be?" he asked.
But he was worried himself. It was probably just a couple of kids as he had told Sandy, but he had the Farris business on his mind and it made him jumpy. He tried to think of what connection this could have and he came up with a blank. No, it had to be just the beer.
Slow down, he told himself. You're getting jumpjr over nothing.
But the episode had cast a pall over their, fun. They both got out of the water and dried themselves quickly. The night was getting cold. Sandy slipped into her tee shirt and shorts, wrapping her wet swimming suit, bra and panties in her towel. Mike could see that she was nervous and wanted to get going. Now was not the time to reach for her body for sex.
They returned to the car and got in. Mike could not help but glance over the car as he got into it to see if anything had been tampered with, but it was dark and he said, "What the hell!" and got in and started the motor. Sandy snuggled up against his shoulder and turned on the radio. It was playing soft music. By the time they pulled up in front of the apartment building they had both pretty much recovered.
As Mike parked the car he remembered.
"The movie," he said. "I forgot"
Sandy looked up at him dreamily. The ride had been soothing.
"I forgot too," she said. "I really don't mind if we skip it now. I don't feel like going now."
"Fine with me," Mike said and leaned over and kissed her.
"I like that better than any movie," Sandy said as they parted.
"Oh?" Mike teased.
"Uhhuh. And other things too."
"Such as ? "
"Shall we go upstairs and find out? We can..." She left the sentence unfinished, but it was not necessary for her to go on.
Mike had a image in his mind of the lovely young girl spread out naked on her clean white bed the hair on her pussy like a beacon in the night calling his attention to the heated slit that lay beneath ready to welcome raging rod of flesh.
"I get the message," he said.
Mike locked up the car and they went inside. He stopped at his apartment to dump off his trunks and towel and told Sandy to go ahead, that he would be along in a minute. He took his time giving the girl a chance to get settled.
After a few minutes he walked the ten steps to her apartment door. He turned the knob slowly and walked in. She had her back to him, but he could see her stiffen slightly and he knew that she was aware of his presence in the room. He walked across the room and came up behind her. Silently he reached around her and cupped her firm breasts. She still wore the tee shirt and shorts, but was naked beneath them.
Mike felt the nipples of her tits stiffen and grow hard under his hands. He lowered his face and kissed the back of her neck. Sandy squirmed back into him and pressed tightly. Her full ass pressed against his hardening prick. Mike massaged her breasts easily with his hands.
"Oh," she said softly.
"Nice," he said.
"OH, BABY," the girl murmured.
She let her head fall back and Mike moved his lips into the hollow of her throat. With one hand he began to trace little designs on her stomach through the shirt. Finally he skipped his hand under the shirt. The touch of her skin was electric. It felt like small needles were running into his hands. He breathed deeply, smelling the clean smell of her. The water of the lake had removed any trace of perfume that she had worn, but she must have put something on while Mike had been in his apartment. Whatever it was it was dynamite. Mike moved both hands under the shirt now and felt the soft mounds of her breasts fill his hands. For a long time he just rubbed and caressed them because he knew that she loved to have breasts played with.
After several minutes he could tell by her shortened gasps that she was becoming more and more aroused.
"I love that," she moaned.
"I know you do, baby," Mike whispered. "Pull the nipples."
Mike did. He took them between this thumb and forefinger and plucked at them lightly. "More."
As he manipulated her tender flesh she ground her ass harder and harder into him. "I can feel your cock."
"Do you want it."
"You know I do."
"Now?"
"Let's play some more first,"
The sounds of her heated passion inflamed Mike even more.
He released her breasts and turned her around gently. She lifted her hands and arms over her head and he pulled the light shirt up slowly, letting the soft flesh of her heavy tits come slowly into view. He had seen the magnificent globes many times, but each time was like the first all over again. He savored the sights and he studied the trembling mounds with his eyes and his fingers. Her breasts were large and full, but they had the clean white softness of a teenage virgin. They were pale white with soft little patterns of blue veins beneath the surface. The rosy pink nipples were set in the middle of circles of puffed flesh. Mike trailed his fingers over them and watched as they grew even more rigid.
Sandy's nipples were large, the size of thimbles, and they quivered delicately as if beckoning his lips to them. They were meant to be sucked. He rolled them between his fingers and a soft sigh escaped from Sandy's lips. She stood there with her shoulders slumped, letting Mike get his fill of the wonderful white globes.
Mike bent down and sucked gently on one nipple, feeling it fill his mouth.
"Oh," Sandy said. "More. More. Suck me, Mike. Suck me.
Mike moved his mouth to the other breast and did the same thing. Sandy began to tremble and her breath was raspy in her throat.
Mike applied a slight pressure. She understood and sank to the carpeted floor with him.
She lay on her back, her breasts jutting upward like twin beacons. Her heels dug into the floor and her hips arched.
"Mike." Her voice was a hiss. "I'm ready now."
Mike used one hand to tug at her shorts, but they were too tight and he could not get them off. Sandy raised up on her feet a little and helped him with the tight red shorts. Beneath them her hot flesh burned. Together they peeled off the shorts slowly and, little by little, he could see her hidden flesh as it was exposed to his gaze. Small droplets of moisture attested to her passion as they clung tremulously to the silken curls of her chestnut triangle. The slightly parted slit was visible under the matted cunt hair.
Sandy kicked the shorts free of her legs and opened her lovely thighs wide to Mike's hand. The pink lips of her cunt pulled apart with a moist sigh and her rigid clitoris peeked from beneath the hood of her sweet little pussy lips. Mike ran his fingertips over the inside curve of the passionate girl's thighs, bringing forth a series of short little cries from Sandy's lips.
"Oh! Oh! God, Mike, it's soooo goooood. Put your finger inside of me. Stick it in. Stick it in."
Meanwhile the girl was busy with Mike's trousers.
Her eager fingers tore at the zipper and pulled his huge turgid cock out to where she could grasp it with both hands. A shudder of pure delight coursed through Mike's body. Sandy rubbed the purple head of her lover's prick with the palm of one hand while her other hand stroked the thick shaft. A droplet of moisture appeared on the tip near the large slit of the piss hole and Sandy spread it all over the head of the magnificent organ so that the friction of her hand would thrill Mike all the more.
Feeling the large weapon tremble in her hand Sandy moved one of her hands down the shaft and lifted gently at the sack containing Mike's balls. She tickled gently at the skin and rubbed the whole of Mike's cock and balls at once giving all the sensation that she could manage. The nut-like head of his cock seemed to grow in size and as it filled with his passion it turned a deep shade of angry purple. It was obvious that he could come at any moment. His sperm would shoot forth in huge jets before long at the current rate of stimulation.
But Mike was not only on the receiving end of all the furious sex play. He trailed his tongue down over Sandy's breasts pausing only a moment to suck hard at each large nipple. Then he moved on to the flat plane of her stomach. The muscles jumped beneath his questing tongue. With one hand he caressed her passion-filled breasts and with the other he sought out her womanhood. His fingers glided smoothly now into the curls of her cunt hair and touched the wonderful warm dampness of her yearning cunt. He felt the nubbin of her clitoris under the tip of one finger and he rubbed at it gently. He was aware of Sandy's aroused state, but was hardly prepared for the huge tremor that shook the girl's body and her simultaneous scream as he made first contact with her passion bud.
"AAAAAAaaaaahh," she screamed. "Lover, fuck me." Her hips jabbed up into the air with huge fucking movements clearly meant to bring some releif to her throbbing pussy.
But Mike was eager for other things. His lips moved into her fur and the tip of his tongue flicked over her gaping slit. Moisture poured from between the pink lips of her gash and coated the insides of her thighs. Mike could see her cunt muscles working as they twitched the bud of her clitoris up and down and the wide spread lips that guarded the inner opening to her vagina were pulled tightly aside. There was little question that she was ready now. Her open cunt would easily take even the swollen proportions of Mike's huge dick. And her orgasm would be upon her in seconds too.
Mike opened his mouth wide and took as much of the pouting flesh of her eager pussy as possible into his mouth. He sucked gently. Then harder.
Sandy's legs fluttered. It was as if any organized movement or control on her part was out of the question now.
"Wait," she cried. "Wait." She pushed at his head and struggled from beneath him. Mike jerked back surprised.
"I want to do you too," she breathed in his ear. "I want to do it. I want to suck your cock."
Mike sank back to the floor. Sandy pulled the remainder of his clothes off of him and threw them across the room. She knelt over him and let the tips of her breast brush maddeningly over his chest. Then she straddled him with an arm and leg on either side of his body and began to move her lips over him. She kissed his face and neck and then moved down with a series of almost painful little nips over his chest.
"You'll like what I'm going to do to you, lover," she managed to say with her lips pressed against his flesh. "I'm going to suck your big cock and drive you out of your mind."
All the while her breasts dangled and teased Mike as they touched his body ever so lightly as Sandy swayed back and forth. Little by little the girl worked her way downward. Her hot wet tongue darted over his tense stomach. Her tits with their enlarged tips dragged slowly over his heated cock and balls. Her fingers preceded her mouth and Mike could not hold back a sharp harsh gasp as her fingers found his prick and held it firmly. Her face was buried now in his pubic hair. She allowed one hand to take an even more downward path and it parted the cheeks of his ass to flutter briefly over the ring of his ass-hole.
Suddenly her mouth replaced her hand and Mike's towering cock was sucked deeply into the mouth of his randy partner. Her tongue rubbed roughly at its head. Her tongue tip tried to force its way into the slit on the tip of the huge instrument. Her hands meanwhile were busy with his balls and in the crack of his ass. Sandy sucked deeply and Mike felt the hard suction pull almost painfully at his organ.
In his overwhelming need Mike was not ready for the moment when Sandy freed his cock and moved her lips to his balls. Her tongue worked furiously there. Mike could not remember ever having been eaten with the same intense reaction of pure pleasure that now engulfed him. Her lips pulled at his scrotum. Her tongue darted against his heated flesh. One of her hands was lost in the crevice of his ass while the other pulled and rubbed at his horribly swollen cock.
It had to be now. It had to be now or he would shoot his full load right into her face that very moment.
Mike pushed at Sandy to roll her back off of him and, as she fell back onto the carpet on her back, he fell between her lush wide spread thighs.
His cockhead touched the outer lips.
"Fuck me hard, baby. Fuck me hard," Sandy said heatedly. Make me feel it. Make me come."
With a single sudden thrust Mike buried his huge cock up to his balls deeply inside the pussy of the sobbing girl beneath him.
"OH," she cried as he pierced her to the quick.
She stiffened as soon as he entered her. Her whole body jerked uncontrollably and her mouth fell open. Her head jerked briefly and a long full moan fell from her lips.
All of their cock sucking and cunt sucking had insured that this fuck would not last long. Ordinarily Mike could keep up his stroking for an uncommonly long period, often to the open ecstasy of his partner who would have two or even three orgasms as Mike fucked her. But now it was different. His own passion was at white heat His eyes were seemingly glazed with a red haze that made the world around him seem far away and strange. He felt light as a balloon. It seemed as though every part of him was pulsating and expanding. The pressure grew and the light and sound in the room were blotted out. Only the cries of pleasure from the girl he was fucking came through to him. He knew that he was making her come. He knew that her orgasm was upon her. Her cunt pulled at his fast moving shaft.
"I'm there," Sandy cried. "I'm coming. Come, Mike come."
Mike could stand it no longer. There was a sudden explosion and wonderful kaleidoscope of colors burst before him. His nerves were hot wires and he seemed to dissolve in a frenzy of pure uncontained joy.
He fell back from her body exhausted. He did not know how long they lay there on the floor next to each other. They were both too worn out to even get up and get into bed. He knew he dozed a couple of times and he supposed that Sandy did, too.
After a long while, he opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. The shadows from the one small light that Sandy had left on made cozy little patterns on the ceiling. Somewhere in the city he heard bells ringing. Out in front of the apartment building, below Sandy's window, a dog barked. Someone shouted to the dog to be quiet and the dog barked once more, probably to show who was boss, and then was quiet. Mike continued to listen but it seemed as if the whole world was absolutely silent then.
He got to his feet and got his clothes together in a small pile. He picked up the shirt and shorts that Sandy had worn and threw them on a chair where she would have no trouble finding them the next day. Then he picked up Sandy and carried her into her bedroom. He got her under the sheet and backed out of the room quietly, slowly and carefully so as not to wake her. He turned off the one small light that was burning in the living room and picked up his clothes. Then he went out the door and walked the seven steps across the corridor to his own apartment. He felt in his pocket for the key and opened the door. He should have at least put his pants on he thought, but he didn't expect to see anyone at this hour and he got inside his apartment without any incident. He dumped the dirty clothes into the laundry hamper and fell into bed. He was sound asleep before his head ever hit the pillow.
CHAPTER 5
Mike never set the alarm on Saturday night because Sunday was his one day to lay in bed late. He always felt as if he could stay in bed all day when he turned in on Saturday night, but as usual, along about nine Sunday morning he opened his eyes, glanced at the clock and began to get restless. So he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He needed a shave badly and his hair was a mess, but he let it go a minute and went to the corridor door and opened it a crack. No one was outside so he snaked his arm out and grabbed the Sunday paper. He was a lot less brave on Sunday morning about his nakedness than he was on Saturday night. He tossed the paper on the chair and went into the kitchen. When the coffee was started he dumped a can of frozen orange juice into a pitcher of water. While the coffee brewed and the juice thawed in the cold water he cleaned himself up, got dressed and straightened up the apartment. He fried three eggs in some butter and ate breakfast while he read the paper.
The news of the day was not something to get up to first thing on Sunday morning. Nor was it something to share your breakfast with. Since Mike had combined the two the effect was almost too much for him.
The new leaders in North Vietnam promised that they would never give up and that the war would last another twenty years or at least as long as there remained one American soldier in South Vietnam. There was more trouble in the Middle East, Central America, South America and Thailand. The Russians, beaten to the moon firmly stated that they would be the first to land a man on Mars.
Phooey! Mike turned the page to see how Dagwood and Blondie were doing.
He was able to kill over an hour with paper and breakfast. After he had dumped the dishes into the sink he walked out of the apartment and knocked on Sandy's door. No one answered and he had knocked again before he remembered that she had told him that she was going to visit her sister and her husband today. Mike wondered how she had gotten up in time to get out early enough. He had put her to bed and had not set any alarm for her. Well, it was obvious that she made out alright somehow.
He sat down in front of the television and tried to get interested in the first few innings of the Tiger-White Sox game, but he could not keep his mind on the action. There was too much to be done. Allan Farris kept intruding into his thoughts. Along with his wife. The blonde and beautiful Elly.
He got up and went to the phone and dialed Tom Watters' number. This had to be set up and now was a good time to get started on it.
The phone rang a half dozen times and Mike was ready to hang up when he heard the receiver being picked up at the other end of the line. A man's voice said hello.
"Tom? This is Mike."
"Mike," Tom Watters said happily. "How have you been? It's been a long time."
Tom's enthusiasm made Mike feel good. He had known Tom for a good many years, but they had not been as close recently as they had been in the past.
"Tom, I'm sorry I haven't seen you lately," Mike apologized, "but you know how it is with business and all."
"Hell, that's no excuse," the voice over the phone boomed good heartedly.
"Now I feel guilty," Mike said. "I have a reason for calling. I need a favor."
"Of course," Watters said and Mike thought he noticed a slight drop in the enthusiasm in the other man's voice.
"Tom, I'd like to use your darkroom and lab some night to develop some film that I'm going to take," Mike told him.
Tom Watters was an amateur photographer and had a room in his basement set up as a darkroom and photography laboratory. He was really quite serious about the hobby and had a great deal of money invested in equipment.
"Sure, Mike," Watters said. "Any time. Do you know what your are doing or do you want me to help you?"
"To tell you the truth, Tom, I would prefer to do the work myself. This is a private deal and I would feel better if no one knew about it while it was in the early stages. I don't think I'd make a mess of things over there. I've watched you often enough and I've done plenty of my own films in the past. Would that be alright with you?"
Watters hesitated and then said, "Sure. Why not?"
"I really appreciate it," Mike told him.
"It's no trouble. You know where we keep the extra key over the door?"
"I remember. Say hello to Gail for me."
"I will. Are you going to get a chance to stop over sometime or are we going to have to come and find you if we want to see you?"
Mike laughed.
"You'll see me," he said. "As soon as I get a little deal I'm working on settled."
"This deal what you need the darkroom for."
"Yes."
"Can you tell me anything about it?"
I'd prefer not to," Mike hedged. He did not want to sound too alarmed to his friend.
"Okay, old man," Watters said. "I understand. But be sure and let us see you now and then."
"Will do," Mike said, eager now to end the conversation. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Mike."
Mike returned the phone to the cradle. His hand was moist and it trembled slightly. He had been unaware of his nervousness.
It was beginning, he thought. This was the start.
He spent the rest of the day wandering around town on foot trying to work off the nervous energy that seemed ready to overwhelm him. He stopped to see a movie that had interested him for some time, but like the baseball game on television earlier in the day, it could not hold his interest. He ate supper in a small Italian restaurant about a mile from his apartment and took his time strolling home.
Mike could hear the phone ringing in his apartment while he was hunting for the door key in his pants pocket. He got the door open and made a dash for the phone, but when he picked it up all he heard was the dial tone. He had a pretty good idea who it might have been and he did not worry. She would call again.
As he was undressing the phone rang again. He picked it up after the first ring.
"Where have you been?" was the first thing that she said.
"Hello, Elly," Mike said.
"I asked where you've been?" she said. "I've been calling you for over two hours."
"I know what you asked. To tell you the truth, I can't really see where it is any of your business where I have been."
Mike did not like the demanding authoritative tone in Elly's voice. He did not like the feeling of being tied to her. On top of all that he did not like being checked up on. Sleep with a beautiful woman, a woman who is used to getting what she wants, and she expects to keep you tied up forever. Or at least as long as she is interested in you.
Elly's voice softened and she apologized.
"AH right," she said, "I'm sorry. I was just nervous. Now will you tell me where you were."
Mike had to laugh at her incredible ego. She thought that one sweet word of apology out her luscious lips was enough for anybody. It was ludicrous.
"I had dinner alone in a little restaurant near town, he said. "I've just been walking."
"Walking? Alone?"
"Elly," he said, his voice rising.
"Okay, okay!" she said backing off. "I said I was sorry."
"What did you call me about?" Mike asked. He knew damn well what she wanted, but what the hell. Why not make her work too.
"I want to know what's happening, Mike. I'm nearly frantic. I'm stuck here all alone and I don't even know if you care for me anymore."
"For God's sake, Elly. It's only been two days."
"It seems like two years."
"All right. All right."
"I want to know what you have done so far. Couldn't you at least call and let me know what you have been doing?"
"That's all I need to do," Mike said, "start calling your house and giving your hourly bulletins now. What do I do when your husband answers? Should I tell him who I am and just ask to talk to you?"
Elly's voice was cool.
"He's a rich man, darling. He would never dream of answering the phone himself. There are servants to do that."
"And you love it too, don't you, you bitch?" Mike said, the anger boiling within him.
"Mike," Elly said. "Don't be nasty. Yes, I like it. Anybody would. Being poor is the most stinking thing that I can think of. What the hell do you think I married the son of a bitch for in the first place?"
"Where is he now?" Mike asked.
"In his own bedroom suite. I told you we sleep in separate bedrooms. That's another thing. When are you coming to see me? I need you."
Mike detected a note of rising passion in her calm voice.
"It's dangerous," he said.
"Wouldn't you take a chance for me?" Her voice was silky and low now. "Don't be silly."
"Mike."
"What?"
"I'm naked, Mike."
"Elly," Mike's voice was pained.
"I wish you were here now, Mike. If you were you know what you'd see?"
Mike felt the blood rush to his ears. The vision of the lovely blonde standing naked appeared before him.
"Mike? Are you there?"
Not knowing what he was doing, Mike nodded his head. "Yes," he said.
"My nipples are hard, baby," Elly said. "I've got one hand on my pussy. I'm touching it Mike. It could be your hand you know. It could be your hand slipping into my hot spot. Ooooooh, Mike, I'm getting excited. I need you. I want your cock. My cunt is open for you, darling. Come fuck me."
Mike could hear her gasps and ragged breathing.
"I could make myself come, Mike. I could, but I won't. I'll save it for you."
Mike swallowed hard.
"Elly," he said, trying to make his voice firm. "It's no good. If I kept running over to your house it would louse things up. It would be too dangerous. We have to be very careful."
There was a long pause. Mike strained to hear her breathing over the line. Finally, "Whatever you say." Her voice had regained its composure and Mike had to wonder what part of the sexy scene that she had just played had been real and what part phony. He could never trust her, he reminded himself for the hundredth time.
"What have you done so far?" she asked.
He told her about the set up on the photography lab and what he had planned for the next day.
"Can't you move any faster?" she prodded.
"If you want to blow the whole thing for the sake of a couple of extra days," he said, "you might want to get somebody else."
"No, no," she said hurriedly. "It sounds fine. Just keep me informed, that's all."
"I'll call you when I think it's safe," he said. "All right?"
"All right."
"Then sit tight and everything will be all right. Don't worry." She laughed.
"That's what I told you," she said.
"What?"
"Don't worry."
"Goodnight," he said.
"Mike?"
"What now?"
"I miss you."
"Okay," he said. "I miss you too. Goodnight." He hung up and went straight to bed. She had worn him out and she had done it over the phone.
CHAPTER 6
Mike got down to the office about eight on Monday morning. Ginny, his secretary, was already there.
"Good morning," she greeted him cheerfully. Mike was sure that one of the reasons he liked Ginny was because of her cheerful good morning greeting. Between the time he got up and the time he got settled at his desk, her greeting was the only nice thing that seemed to happen to him.
Someone had once told him that there are two kinds of people in the world. There are morning people and night people. The morning .people wake up bright and cheerful and get a good day's work done, but they poop out early in the evening unless they take a nap in the afternoon. They aren't much good for anything after nine in the evening. Night people, on the other hand, are up and raring to go until all hours of the night. But they pay hell getting started in the morning. It is pure agony to roll out of bed in the morning for a night person. Mike was one of the night people. He did not think that he had been happy to get up two mornings in his entire life. The same fellow who had told him about it had said that there was no cure and whichever it was that you were, you were stuck with it for the rest of your life. As a result, Mike made it a habit to try to get up as early as he could as often as he could. This way he tried to trick himself and train himself so that it would be less painful, but it didn't help. He still hated to hear the alarm go off.
Ginny was working over the coffee pot.
"Ready yet?" he asked. "In a jiffy," she said. She made good coffee too.
Mike busied himself at his desk and in a few minutes Ginny set a cup of steaming hot coffee on the desk top beside the papers that he was going over.
"Thanks," Mike said without looking up.
Ginny smiled and returned to her desk.
The mail came in at nine-thirty. Mike took his time going over it until he realized that he was taking too much time. He knew that he was stalling, putting off something that he was reluctant to get started on. So he shuffled the mail into a rough pile and set it aside. He got up and shut the door to the outer office so that he would have some privacy. He barely heard the clatter of Ginny's typewriter through the door.
Returning to his desk he picked up the phone. He leafed through the phone book and found the number he was looking for and dialed it.
"Jack Anderson," he said when the secretary answered at the other end of the line.
"Who is calling, please?" she asked.
"It's personal," Mike said. "I'd like to speak to Mr. Anderson myself."
"Of course," she said in a tone that angered Mike, "all of Mr. Anderson's business is confidential, but he insists that I ask who is calling. May I have your name please."
Mike gave up and told the girl his name.
There was a hollow click, then a short delay before the line cleared again and a harsh voice asked, "Yes, what can I do for you, Mr. Reston?"
Mike had been going over in his mind how he was going to present the matter to the private detective. He knew that Allan Farris' name was big enough to frighten even a big time operator around Harbor City and Anderson was small stuff no matter which way you cut it.
Finally Mike said, "I'd like to retain your services." Let Anderson take it from there. But Anderson would not commit himself. "Yes," was all he said. His voice gave Mike no clue as to how to proceed.
"There is a certain party who I believe is engaged in certain activities that I could like to know more about," Mike explained in a vague way. "I want you to follow him and investigate his activities."
"Him?" Anderson asked. "A man? Not your wife?"
Mike smiled. Divorce business. Probably the only kind of work Anderson ever got. Well, this was almost the same thing, but the approach would be a little different.
"Yes," Mike said. "The man is the husband of a friend of mine and she has reason to believe that he may be carrying on with another woman behind her back. She has asked me to look into it for her."
"Oh, yes, I see," Anderson said. He was obviously back on more solid footing now. He was used to this. "May I suggest that you make an appointment with my secretary and come around to my office. These things are best discussed personally, not over the phone."
"Good," Mike said. "That's what I hoped that you would say."
"I'll look for you then," Anderson said.
Mike thanked him and he switched Mike back to the mean-voiced girl. She made an appointment for two o'clock that afternoon. An appointment, Mike mused. Anderson was probably sitting up on his rear and waiting for a job, but he had to keep up the image. He had to put Mike off. Couldn't fit him in right now. He was much too busy. like hell! He probably had his greedy hand up under his secretary's dress, Mike thought. Had his hand sunk wrist deep into her cunt and that type of thing can never be interrupted just for business.
Ginny knocked on the door and brought in copies of some" letters for Mike to sign.
"I'm leaving for lunch, now," she said.
"Okay, Ginny."
She walked out of the office and closed the door behind her.
Mike paced about the office and tried to get the details straight in his mind. He sat back down, but when he tried to read the paper on his desk his mind wandered and he had to give it up. He looked at his watch. It was almost twelve-thirty.
He locked the office and went out to his car. He drove around downtown slowly just trying to kill a little time. After a while he stopped at a restaurant and had a sandwich. He had difficulty forcing the food down. That killed another half hour. On his way out of the restaurant he remembered Sandy and stopped to phone her at a telephone booth near the door. He dialed her number at work. The phone rang a half dozen times before Mike hung up. Out to lunch too. She usually took a rather late lunch break.
Mike spent a few minutes walking up and down the block looking into the shop windows. On an impulse he whirled and walked back to a sporting goods store he had passed a moment previously.
He entered the store and crossed to the showcase near the cash register.
"May I help you?" a salesman inquired.
Mike hesitated for only a moment, then said, "Yes, I want to buy a hand gun. Let me see that one over there."
He pointed to a pistol under the glass.
The clerk stooped over and slid back the door at the rear of the gun case. He removed the gun Mike had pointed at and set it on the counter. Mike picked it up. The cold metal felt strange in his hand.
"A fine hand gun," the clerk was saying. "Smith and Wesson. .32 caliber."
Mike turned it over in his hand to see the price tag. He stood looking at it for a moment, feeling the heft of the gun in his hand. He had not held a gun since he had gotten out of the service. Even then, he seldom ever had reason to use a pistol. The few times that he did, the weapon was a forty-five and not a little pea shooter like this one.
He made up his mind.
"Fine," he said. "I'll take it."
He handed the gun back to the clerk and he put it into a box.
"We have a fine holster that would be the very thing for this gun," the clerk said. Mike shook his head. "Just the gun," he said. The clerk nodded.
As he wrote out the charge ticket he told Mike, "You realize, of course, that I will have to register this sale. If you want to carry this weapon on your person you will have to make an application at city hall for a permit to carry a concealed weapon."
Mike gave him the particulars that came into his mind and an address that would probably put him some five hundred yards back into the city sewage disposal works, but the clerk took it happily and there was not trouble.
Mike dropped the gun into his jacket pocket, fully conscious of the weight it made. He returned to his car and transferred the pistol to the glove compartment.
By then it was time for his appointment with Jack Anderson and he drove straight to Anderson's office.
The Anderson Detective Agency consisted of two dirty little rooms in an old, even dirtier, building. The girl at the outer desk had Mike sit down for a moment while she got up and went into the other room to see if Anderson was ready for him. Mike watched her tight ass twitch past and found it hard to imagine such a nice shape belonging to the acid cold voice that had been the one he had heard on the phone earlier. Her tits bounced nicely as she walked past.
In a moment she returned and told him that he could go in. She stood holding the door for him and she let her full breasts rub firmly up against his arm as he walked past.
Mike walked into Anderson's inner office. He was seated with his feet up on his desk and paper cup in his hand. He had probably filled it from the bottle of whiskey that was perched next to his left foot.
"Sit down, Reston," he said and waved his hand at a chair in front of the desk. He made no effort to get up and shake hands and neither did Mike.
Anderson was a beefy, middle-aged man with a florid puffy face. His red nose with its patchwork of broken veins bespoke his fondness for the bottle.
Before Mike was settled in his chair Anderson said, "Just to get the formalities out of the way before we begin, I charge fifty bucks a day. That doesn't include expenses."
The detective looked at Mike and studied his face, waiting for Mike's reaction to the price he had quoted. Mike Anderson was ready to come down if he hesitated and ready to tack on some extras if he thought the traffic could handle it.
Mike held his face passive.
"We are prepared to pay a fixed fee that will amount to much more than that, Mr. Anderson," Mike told him. He paused for effect. "Much more."
He saw a wary look creep over Anderson's face. This was his business and he may have been a slob, but he was sharp. And greedy.
"Well, now..." he hedged. "I don't know if...."
Mike cut him off.
"The reason we are prepared to pay a bit more than your usual fee is quite simply because we want to insure your silence after the job is over."
"I'm not a blabber mouth, Reston."
"I didn't say you were."
"Hell you say."
"We just want to be sure," Mike said softly. There was no point in getting overheated. Not now.
Anderson swung his feet off his desk and leaned forward toward Mike.
"How much did you have in mind?" he asked.
"A thousand dollars down," Mike said firmly.
"And?" The detective's voice was eager. That was what Mike was playing for.
"We can get to that," Mike said.
"All right. Who is it? And just what is it that you want done? Remember, Reston. No funny business. I got a permit that I don't want to lose."
"The job is simple. All you have to do is follow a man and find out who he sees, where and when. Then you let me know. After that I take over. You won't even be in on the final play."
"You'll get the goods?" Anderson asked.
"That's right."
"Okay. Who is it?"
Mike took a deep breath.
"Allan Farris," he said evenly.
For a moment there was silence. Then Anderson rose to his feet.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm a private detective, not a fucking idiot. Find yourself somebody else."
"Sit down," Mike said harshly.
"Don't give me that crap, Reston."
"Sit down," Mike said again. "Let's talk money."
Anderson wavered for a moment and then sat back down. Money. It was Mike's strong card.
"I told you that I would handle the final arrangements. Farris will never see you. All you have to do is the tail job. And who will ever let the cat out of the bag about who did the tailing? We want this as quiet as you do."
"You and his wife?" Anderson asked. Mike nodded.
"What about the rest of the money?"
"As soon as you give us the word that you have what we want we will pay you another four thousand dollars."
Mike watched as the man licked his greedy lips. Mike had counted on the man's greed more than anything else, sure that it would overpower his fear.
"Five grand," Anderson said as if to himself.
Before he could say no, Mike went on.
"All you have to do is to keep an eye on him. We know that he's playing around. All we want to know is where and when."
Anderson nodded.
"The five grand has to be in cash."
"You'll have it," Mike said. "What else will you need? A picture of him?"
Anderson shook his head.
"No," he said, "I know what he looks like. I just hope that he doesn't know what I look like."
"We want it as soon as possible," Mike said. "And one more thing. When it's all over we want all of the copies of your files." Mike paused. "Deal?"
"Give me the grand," Anderson said.
"I'll send it over with a messenger later in the day," Mike told him.
Anderson eyed Mike curiously.
"Where do you fit in?" he asked.
"That's no business of yours," Mike told him flatly.
Anderson grinned. He showed teeth dirty and stained.
"You getting what Farris is missing out on at home, huh? I've seen that blonde honey of his. How's it feel to stick your cock into the million dollar twat?"
"Shut up," Mike snapped.
Anderson laughed out loud.
"You come in here and sneer at me and ask me to do your dirty work for you. You got a hell of a lot of nerve, Reston, to act uppity with me. You stink, buddy. Hell, we all do."
Anderson tilted back his head and drained his paper cup.
"We all stink," he repeated.
"Go easy on the sauce when you work for us," Mike said.
Anderson waved Mike away and poured another drink from the bottle.
Mike left Anderson seated at his desk staring at the wall over the doorway and dreaming of the five thousand dollars. Mike was glad to be out of the man's office. It had a bad smell and a bad feel to it. But he would be a lot safer with someone like Anderson doing the tailing than if he did it himself. And five thousand out of a half million would be nothing.
CHAPTER 7
It was nearly six o'clock when Mike finally arrived home from the office. He was tired and upset. He had done little at his desk after returning from his meeting with Anderson. He had spent most of his time pacing in his small office wondering how long it would be before Anderson would call with what they wanted. He knew that it would be days yet. The waiting would be hard.
He had nothing planned for the evening. When the phone rang, it startled him. He wasn't expecting anyone to call. He grabbed the phone excitedly. Could it be Anderson already?
His hand was sweaty on the receiver.
"Hello," he said.
"Mike?" he heard Elly's warm voice over the phone.
He could not be sure if he was disappointed or excited. A warmth suffused his lower belly.
"We shouldn't be talking," he told her. "Not until something develops."
"Oh, Mike," Elly said, her voice a bit strained. "I haven't seen you for almost a week now. Anyway what difference can this make?"
"I don't know, but it would be a shame to mess everything up just for the sake of one phone call."
"A waste? Mess? Talking to me is a way of messing things up?"
"Okay," Mike laughed. "Don't get huffy. But it is dangerous."
"Mmmmmmmm. I like that," she said. "I like to think that I'm dangerous."
"You're wild," Mike said.
"You want to know why I called?" she asked.
"I'm afraid to find out."
"I want you to take me to a party."
"A what?" Mike yelled.
"Don't shout, darling."
"But Jesus Christ, Elly. A party."
"Now wait a minute before you get angry," Elly said.
Mike tried to cut her off, but she went right on anyway.
"Allan is out of town and these are some people that are friends of mine, not his. Even if they thought something was funny they would never ever let it get back to Allan. Besides, I won't be the only one there without her own husband. I want to go and I want you to take me."
"I can almost see you pouting," Mike said, but he was smiling.
"You can see me doing lots of other nice things too if you come with me."
"Oh."
"Uh huh."
"What kind of things?"
"You know. Nice things. Things to make you feel good. You can watch me kiss you all over. Even that big thing of yours. You can watch me make myself ready for you."
"You do tempt me, you know."
"Of course, I know. But it gets me excited too, darling, Just to think about it."
"What kind of party is it?"
"Nothing much. Just a few couples, drinks, something to eat and some laughs. It's out in the country at the home of a friend of mine so no one will see us by accident."
"Except those at the party."
"I told you that they wouldn't care."
"Yes, I know," Mike replied.
Mike considered it briefly. Finally, he decided to go. He had to admit that he wanted to see Elly. And even more than that he was very eager to find something that would help take his mind off the intolerable waiting for Jack Anderson's phone call. When you were with Elly she was all that your mind could hold. There was no thinking of anything else. God, he reminded himself for the hundredth time, he had to be careful with that beautiful sexy woman.
"What the hell," he said and was surprised to find that he had spoken out loud.
"You'll go?"
"What time?"
"Good," Elly said, her voice brightening. "Pick me up in an hour or so. It's about a half hour drive once we get to the highway outside of the city."
"Elly," Mike told her, "this is probably a foolish thing to do."
"Oh, don't be such an old worrier," Elly replied. "Don't you want to have any fun?"
"I know that I can't always keep from acting foolishly," Mike said, "but I do try to keep my actions free of outright stupidity. This could be dangerous."
"Please, Mike, don't start a fight. Not now. Let's just have a good time. All right?"
"Okay. Okay. How should I dress?"
"Comfortably. This is just a few couples getting together. Nothing imagine."
Mike hung up the phone and stood there for a moment, his lips pursed and his forehead wrinkled. He really wasn't angry. It seemed harmless enough. Elly has as much to lose as I have, he told himself in a half-hearted attempt to convince himself not to worry. In fact, she had even more to lose. She had all her eggs in one basket. He decided that if she could risk it then he could too.
But he could not get over the feelings of doubt that it was all too easy. Whenever you went after really big game and lost there had to be some kind of penalty. And there did not seem to be one in this case. Or even if he was caught and punished in some way he could not conceive of any penalty that was as extreme as the case seemed to warrant. But even as he worried about it he could see the whole plan in his mind. He set it up. He held all the cards. There could be no holes if he did not slip up himself. There was just no room for outside interference.
Mike's face cleared and brightened. He searched around in the refrigerator and found some cold meat and a quart of milk. He finished them off while he glanced through the evening paper. He caught the six o'clock news and sports on television and by the time he finished with his shower and put on clean clothes it was time to leave to pick up Elly.
The hot sun was already down when Mike stepped out of the entrance way. The heat of the day lingered behind just enough to make the evening pleasantly warm. Mike felt just right in his slacks and light sport shirt, but knowing that it might get colder later on he threw a jacket into the back seat of the car before he started out. It took him about fifteen minutes to get to Elly's. She was waiting for him as he pulled up the familiar gravel driveway.
He leaned over to push open the door for her and she slid in beside him.
"I thought you said casual," he said as he took in her light green off the shoulder evening dress.
Elly smiled and reached over and patted his cheek in a way that Mike did not like.
"Casual for you, darling," she said, "but a lady always has to be careful about how she looks."
Mike was not convinced and Elly could see it in his face.
"Don't worry," she said, "the other men will be dressed just about the same as you are."
Mike didn't like it. He especially didn't like being made to feel foolish. He was convinced she had set the thing up with the clothes just to keep him off balance and to show her control over him. But nothing could be gained by arguing so he put the car in gear and raced the engine as he pulled out onto the highway.
He glanced over at her where she sat beside him. She noted his look and smiled a radiant smile at him. Her pink tongue moistened her full lips. Her green dress had a deep neckline and the full creamy richness of her magnificent breasts was exposed to Mike's gaze. Her long blonde hair fell gently on her white soft shoulders. Mike could not deny that Elly was an incredibly beautiful woman.
"Get over to Wilmington Road and turn south," she told him. "It's about fifteen miles. I'll tell you when we get to the turn off."
Elly reached over and switched on the radio and snuggled up beside him. The soft music and warm breeze playing through the car soothed Mike and he drove happily now, forgetting all of the pressures that had been building up within him for the past few days. Once Elly lifted her head from his shoulder and brushed her lips along the line of his jaw. He caught the smell of her perfume and it excited him. He felt a stir in his loins as his manhood filled with blood. He knew how this evening would end and he looked forward to it.
Elly straightened up in the seat beside him. She peered out of the window into the darkness.
"Better slow down," she said. "The turn off is up here someplace. There it is. By those signs. Take that small road to the left."
Mike slowed the big car and turned off onto the side road. Large trees on either side of the road spread their branches over the road forming a canopy under which Mike drove. He had expected dirt or gravel, but the road was hard surfaced. He knew why. Elly knew people with money and they could afford to surface their own roads if they could not get the county or the state to do it for them.
"It's about three miles in," Elly told him.
She struggled to pull herself up so that she could see her makeup in the rear view mirror.
"Am I all straight?" she asked.
Mike took his eyes from the road for a brief instant.
"Like a million dollars," he said.
Elly chuckled.
"Well, at least a half million, anyway, I'll bet," she said.
They both laughed.
The road was good, but it was narrow. After several more minutes they topped a small rise and Mike could see lights ahead. As they pulled into a fairly large parking lot Mike could hear the sounds of loud music coming from inside the building in front of them. He could see by the number of cars in the parking lot that Elly had been less than truthful when she had said that there were only going to be a few people at the party. He could count nearly a dozen cars in the lot and he was sure that there would be others coming after them.
He parked the car and helped Elly out. They walked up the path to the house, but before they could knock, Elly reached out and opened the door.
"We can just walk in," she said with a grin. "With all that music I don't think anybody would hear the knock anyway."
As she opened the door Mike was assaulted by the barrage of noise that poured out of the room. A loudspeaker throbbed with a heavy drum beat that failed to blot out the sounds of at least three dozen people talking and yelling. It appeared as if the party was already off to a roaring start. Mike looked around. Peopie stood in groups of four or five and several couples were twisting in wild form to the beat of the drums in some exotic dance that Mike had never seen before. At least he had never seen two people do that with their clothes on before. Two white jacketed waiters weaved in and out among the throng carrying trays of drinks.
"We can throw our coats in here," Elly said, as she led Mike down a narrow hallway. They paused outside the door to a room at the end of a hall.
Mike opened the door and stopped cold. The room contained a large bed piled high with coats and jackets. On top of the pile of clothing, a couple lay wrapped in each others arms oblivious to the entrance of Mike and Elly.
The girl was on top and both were stark naked. As he watched the girl slowly raised her hips and ass and Mike could see that she was sitting or lying on the rigid cock of the man beneath her. The hair fringed lips of her love nest moved up exposing the full length of the long red organ that had just filled it to his eager gaze. The girl's tightly puckered ass-hole seemed to wink at Mike.
With a heavy groan the girl let her hips fall and her cunt seemed to swallow the full length of the erect penis once again. She gave a series of sharp little cries and rubbed her body frantically against the body beneath her.
"Oh, Christ, I'm going to come," Mike heard her say.
Elly chuckled and threw her wrap onto the bed. It landed on the girl's back and slid to the floor.
"Don't mind them," Elly told Mike. "It's too crowded here already."
Reluctantly Mike turned from the scene on the bed. They closed the door behind them.
"Some party," Mike said.
"Just wait a while," Elly said, her eyes flashing.
As they entered the living room again they were greeted by a tall blonde woman in a skirt and sweater.
"Elly," she cried. "I'm so glad that you could come."
The woman regarded Mike curiously for a brief moment and ran her gaze up and down his body.
"And who is this one?" she asked.
"Marcia, this is Mike," Elly introduced him. "Mike, Marcia Lawton. She and her husband own this place. Where is that man of yours, Marcia?"
"Europe," Marcia said. She had not taken her eyes from Mike for a second. "Gone for God knows how long."
Her frank appraisal made Mike uneasy, but Elly seemed to pay no attention to it.
While he had the chance, Mike looked at the woman before him. He liked what he saw. She could have been no more than thirty and her full breasts pushed out from behind her sweater. Her green eyes sparkled, her tight short skirt molded the firm lines of her hips and exposed plenty of tanned lovely leg for him to see. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight knob behind her head and she wore no makeup that he could see. The effect created was one of intense, but subdued excitement. There was a sense of perfect naturalness there, but at the same time a natural sexuality came through and made itself felt. Of this, Mike was strongly aware.
The whole mutual appraisal took only a moment and Mike felt sure that Elly hadn't noticed. If she had she made no mention of it. She took his hand possessively and pulled him along.
"Come on," she said. "There are some other people I want you to meet."
"Ohhh," Marcia Lawton said. "I thought that you brought him for me." She winked at Mike as if to say that she was not teasing, not entirely.
"Not on your life, honey," Elly said and squeezed Mike's hand again.
"See you later?" Marcia asked.
Mike gave her a grin and turned to follow Elly. There was time to check out Marcia later. The night was still young. Still a funny feeling lingered. Even considering her spoken words to the contrary, Mike had the distinct impression that Elly was somehow encouraging the relationship between himself and Marcia Lawton. What possible significance that could have he could not say. Unless there was someone else that Elly preferred to be with this evening.
For a few minutes he followed after Elly as she led him around and introduced him to people. For the most part he made no attempt to remember the names he was told. Most of the time he did not even hear what Elly said as she introduced him. But there was one thing he did perk up at. There were a number of pretty women there and Mike made the necessary effort to remember who they were. Most of the men were young, no older than he or Elly. There was not a person over forty in the room.
"Mike," Elly said, breaking into his thoughts. "I want you to meet Wes Underwood. Wes is Allan's accountant."
Mike shook hands with a tall good looking man. Wes Underwood was nearly as tall as Mike, but appeared to be about twenty pounds heavier.
Mike looked quickly at Elly. She noticed his look of concern, but just smiled and shook her head slightly as if to say, "Don't worry about Wes Underwood seeing us together."
Underwood's grip was firm and seemed friendly, but Mike felt an instant dislike for the man. He tried to pinpoint the reason for his feeling. Perhaps it was that, in spite of the firm handshake, Underwood's eyes would not meet his.
"Elly has spoken of you," Underwood said. "I'm pleased to meet you."
Mike muttered the necessary polite words, anxious to be away from the man.
"Mike muttered the necessary polite words, anxious to be away from the man.
"Mike," Elly said, as if sensing his impatience, "there are several things I want to discuss with Wes. Will you excuse us please?"
"Certainly," Mike said. "Take good care of her, Mr. Underwood."
"Call me Wes," Underwood said. He smiled and winked. "You can be sure that I'll take good care of her."
He smiled again and Mike turned away from them trying to decide if Elly had gone off with Underwood so that he could get away from the man or if she actually wanted to be alone with Underwood for a while.
Mike stood for a moment, holding a drink that he had picked off a tray, and looked around. The room was filled with the din of loud music, and the incessant buzzing of a dozen conversations going on at once. Mike was conscious of the fact that the room was warm. He drifted about the room, stopping at one group and then another, tuning in on the conversation. After a while, he saw Elly off to one side of the room in an animated conversation with a young couple. He wondered what had become of Wes Underwood. The man was short and thin with heavy glasses. The girl caught his eye and held it. She was a small cute brunette with a gamin grin and bright sparkling eyes. Her neat little figure was set off to good advantage in a white blouse and a full, but very short skirt. She seemed to be laughing at something that the young man had said and Elly joined her. Mike debated going to join them and decided against it. Several drinks had warmed his belly. He wanted to get high enough to relax and join in the party.
He continued to walk around the room to see what he could find. He deposited his empty glass on a table and picked up a refill.
"You've got big breasts, Sue." he heard one man say to the woman next to him, "and I happen to be queer for huge breasts. Anything wrong with that? I mean, there isn't anything wrong with a guy liking a woman because she has a big pair of tits, is there?"
"But, Georgie," the girl said, "I want someone to like me for what I am, not because I have big breasts. Inside of me, I'm a poet. Sometimes, when I am in bed with a man I look down and see him sucking on my nipples and rubbing my boobs all over and I think that if my breasts were all that he had he would be satisfied. He never even wanted me. All men ever seem to see is my huge chest. A girl is more than tits you know. I'm not sure I even like sex anymore." Her voice broke and she began to sob.
"There, there," the man she had referred to as Georgie said. He put his arm around her. "I like you for what you are."
The girl looked at him sniffling and trying to stifle her sobs.
"Honest, Georgie?" she asked her face tear streaked.
"Sure, kid. Honestly, I do. Here, come on over to the couch and sit down."
Mike watched him lead the large breasted girl toward a sofa off in one corner. He had one arm around her, reaching under her arm to get his palm over one of her breasts. He fumbled with the hem of her sweater with his other hand and the girl made only a halfhearted effort to stop him.
Mike smiled and moved on, stopping a short distance from where a young man was talking to some girls. All three of them seemed to be pretty far gone from the drinking that they had done.
"But LSD isn't really a drug," the man was saying. "It's not like heroin, for example. It's more like a health food. It's good for you."
"Oh, Ronnie," one of the girls said in a bored tone. "Honestly, you can go on in the funniest way."
"But I meant it," the man argued heatedly. "It shows you your soul. It expands your mind. How can that be bad? I ask you, how can it?"
Mike moved on. He had no patience with the fools whose lives were so dull that they had to liven them up with pot or heroin, or now the new one, LSD.
"Saving it?" he heard a masculine voice behind him cry out. "What in the hell for?" Your old age? You must be at least twenty-five. I'm telling you, honey, for your own good, it just isn't healthy for a grown woman of twenty-five to still be a virgin. You might be frigid or even have homosexual tendencies. Honestly, the best thing you could do would be to sleep with me right now, tonight, just to be sure. I could tell you if you might have any tendencies in any wrong direction. You don't want to have that on your mind do you?"
Mike laughed. He wondered how successful the young man would be with that kind of line. It sure as hell was not a new one.
He made his way across the room to a large group on the far side. People kept coming in the door and the room was becoming more and more crowded. He held his drink up high to keep from spilling it and maneuvered around the pack of bodies between him and his goal.
As he moved he felt his arm come into contact with a firm mound of flesh. The mound gave slightly against his arm. Mike turned to see who he had bumped into. It was Marcia Lawton. She was looking up at him.
"Don't move," she said with a teasing grin. "Stay there. That feels good."
Mike smiled as the girl wriggled, rubbing her large tit eagerly against his arm.
She said something that Mike did not hear.
"What?" he asked.
She beckoned him with her finger and he bent his head toward her mouth.
"I said that I hope that you wind up with me tonight."
Mike was aware of the soft whisper of her breath in his ear and he repressed a shiver. Before tie could straighten up, Marcia snaked out her tongue and tickled his ear. Mike jumped and his drink spilled.
"Damn," he muttered.
Marcia laughed.
"A perfectly good drink," Mike said. "Oh, don't worry about that. There are plenty more where that came from."
"If you say so."
Come on out to the kitchen," she said. I'll mix you up something special. My husband has some private stock and you can have whatever you want." For a moment she eyed Mike carefully as if measuring his reaction. Then she added, "And I'm included in that offer too."
As he followed her toward a door at the rear of the room Mike tried to catch a glimpse of Elly, but she was nowhere to be seen. He followed Marcia through a swinging door that led into the kitchen. When the door swung shut behind them Mike relaxed slightly, the noise was muffled somewhat and he found the relative silence a blessed relief.
Marcia stood beside a cupboard and held the door open.
"Help yourself," she said.
As Mike moved toward the open cupboard the girl stepped in front of him.
"Anything you see you can have."
"I thought we came in here to get me a drink," Mike said enjoying the eagerness of his lovely companion.
"Men," was all that Marcia said, but she did step aside.
Mike peered inside the cupboard. He did not even recognize most of the labels. So much for being a poor son of a bitch, he thought. He lifted a bottle of Jack Daniel's Black Label from the shelf. He seldom drank it, but he knew he liked it. Marcia took it from him and splashed a few ounces into a glass. Mike took it from her hand and raised it to his lips. He knew that all of this with the liquor was only a pretense. They were just playing with each other, teasing each other, making each other wait for what they both knew was coming.
Mike knew very well what Marcia wanted and he delayed, taking pleasure in putting her off. But he wanted it too and it could not go on forever.
"How long has your husband been gone?" he asked.
"Too damn long," she replied. "I've been sleeping alone for too many long nights."
Her frank statement did not surprise Mike. He reached out and she moved forward into his arms without any hesitation. Her mouth was a firebrand against his, her wet swollen tongue forced its way deeply inside his mouth.
He heard her moan and her hips brushed frantically against his. He felt his cock rise within his pants and he knew that she could'feel it press against her belly.
The heated womanly smell of her assaulted his senses.
Mike tore his mouth away and looked down into her face.
"God," she said, her eyes tightly closed. "Feel me." A hiss broke from her lips.
She took his hand and pressed it to her underbelly. Her legs were apart and her skirt was pressed tightly against her body. He could feel her heat through the light material and he knew that she wore nothing under the skirt. Her hips pressed forward and Mike knew that the hot woman's cunt was separated from his hand only by a thin wisp of cloth. He pressed with his middle finger and felt her flesh give slightly and knew that he was rubbing his hand in her slit.
He bent his mouth to hers again and held her tightly.
Finally she broke away.
"Not here," she said. Her eyes were steamy.
"Where?" Mike asked.
"Later. Out back, Down by the pool."
He nodded his head.
"When?"
"Soon, you'll see. When everybody else is busy with their own fun."
Some of the fire faded as they talked and Marcia patted her hair back into place. She smiled at him.
"I'll do you good, baby." she told him.
Mike knew that she told the truth. He had had only a small sample of her fire and knew what her promise meant. If she could deliver on that promise it would be pure sensual delight.
Marcia smiled impishly and brushed her hand over the front of his trousers. He gasped slightly as her fingers encountered his manhood.
"I love men," she told him.
"I can see."
"And I love cock."
There was no doubt in Mike's mind that this was a highly sexed woman. He was sure that her husband's absence was only an excuse that Marcia used and if he had met her with her husband in town Mike was sure that she would have made a play for him under those circumstances as well.
"I'll give you all I can," he told her.
"Later," she said. Her voice was soft now.
"Later."
"Let's just go back and mix for now. Watch me and follow me when I leave."
Mike waited a moment and then followed Marcia into the living room. It was mobbed. It seemed as if there was not room for a single new guest. About eight people were gathered in a circle where a young girl stood in the center. She could have been no more than twenty-two or so and was remarkably pretty. Her short cropped black hair framed her round face and her green eyes danced as she spoke.
"That's just what gets me," she said in response to a question that Mike had not heard. "I mean a man can go out and get laid any time he wants to. He just follows his cock around. But a girl has to be so damned careful. Everybody gets mad or huffy when a girl fucks around and they call her names."
Someone on the other side of the group made a comment that Mike could not hear.
The girl shook her head.
"That's not what I mean, I don't want men to stop. I want the same privilege men have, that's all. If I want to take off my clothes here and pull one of the guys down on top of me, why shouldn't I?"
"Go ahead," someone said and the group laughed.
"You think I won't," the girl said, her eyes issuing a challenge.
Several voices shouted derisive comments and the girl's eyes flashed in anger.
"Okay," she said. "Who wants to help?" This time no one spoke up.
The girl looked at the people around her. Mike could tell that the mood of the group had changed. There was more excitement in the air now.
"Go ahead," one young woman said thickly. "Take her up on it. Give it to her. Let her show off her little black-haired pussy."
Several other women nodded in agreement. It was obvious that the sexy episode was getting to all of them.
"Well, who is man enough?" the girl asked.
Four or five men raised their voices. "You can all help," she said. The crowd moved in closer.
"You," the girl said pointing to one man. "Unbutton my blouse."
Everyone turned to look at the man she had chosen.
He hesitated for only a moment and then, stepping forward, he began to fumble with the buttons of the blouse. At first his fingers slipped in his excitement, but he got the buttons undone and the blouse hung open on the girl. The crowd could see the flimsy bra that she wore under it.
"Go ahead," she said. Her voice had lost much of its teasing quality and there was an underlying hoarseness that bespoke her own rising passion.
The man slipped the blouse from the girl's figure and let it fall to the floor. Light freckles dotted the girl's shoulders. They gave her an innocence that only served to heighten the erotic quality of the tableau.
The girl closed her eyes. The man got his fingers behind her and started on her bra clasp. A number of others in the room had stopped what they were doing and had joined the group to watch. Several pulled chairs up to the fringe .of the group and stood on them in order to see better.
"Finish my bra," the girl demanded.
The thin wisp of material suddenly fell from her breasts and fluttered to the floor. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as the girl's breasts were exposed to their view. They were young and full, but stood up proudly without the bra to support them. The nipples were light pink and stood saucily inside rosy circles of aroused flesh.
Mike glanced at the crowd and saw one man's hand steal up and cup the breast of the woman who stood in front of him. The woman made no move to discourage him.
"Breasts were meant to be sucked and played with," the girl said.
"That's enough, Patti," someone said, but there were immediate protests. "No, no."
"Let her do what she wants to do." A man stepped forward.
He reached out and touched one of the full breasts. "Aaahhh," Patti said.
The man slowly rubbed the creamy mound of flesh and the nipple stood upright.
"Suck my nipples," the girl instructed.
The man dipped his head and took one of the turgid tips into his mouth.
"Oh, suck me, baby, suck me," the girl sang.
The man eagerly passed to the other large tit and took its tip into his mouth too.
Patti pulled his head to her chest and held him. Her eyes were closed and there was an open-mouthed smile on her lips.
After a moment another man and a woman stepped forward and began to work on the girl's skirt. The crowd reacted more and more. There was a steady low humming noise that was made by the collective sighs and groans of the watching men and women. The fantastically erotic episode that they were watching was causing the men and women to become more and more aroused. Each couple seemed to be oblivious to the presence of the others. Several couples sank to the floor and began the preliminaries of love. One woman pulled her skirt up in a frenzy and yanked down her panties.
"Christ!" she said as she pulled open the red lips of her hairy slit to provide her lover with easy access to her vagina, "I think I'm coming already. Get that fucking thing in me."
Mike turned and looked at the couch next to him. It was a long one, nearly eight feet long and three couples were entwined on it. None of the six people seemed to be aware that they were part of the show that was going on in the room. One man had his partner's sweater and bra off and was busily teasing her nipples into hard aroused points. Another young man had his head hidden beneath the folds of his partner's skirt. Mike recognized the young brunette that Elly had been talking and laughing with earlier and assumed that it was the young man with the thin face and heavy-rimmed glasses that was burrowing beneath her skirt, planting kisses on the insides of her thrashing thighs and sucking the juicy flow from her steaming cunt.
Mike noticed that a number of couples were leaving the room, walking hand in hand down the several hallways that led from the big room, obviously looking for some privacy, loathe to perform in the public arena as so many were doing now in the living room.
His attention was drawn back to the young girl in the center of the circle by the sharp little cry that spilled from her mouth. He turned to see the last remnant of clothing fall from her lovely form as three husky men dragged her to the floor.
She lay on the floor while the three men rained kisses and touches all over her body. Her figure was lush and ripe and young. Her breasts settled full and soft on her chest as she lay on her back. A small waist seemed to accentuate the size of her breasts and hips. Below her waist her body filled out into full, but strong hips, and tapered into long, clean, smooth, lush legs.
Those slim thighs opened and admitted one of the men. The angry red cleft between her thighs was revealed to their gaze. The girl had a full bush of pubic hair and it curled enticingly on the outsides of the lips of her vulva. Even from where he stood, Mike could see the substantial size of the girl's clitoris peeping from beneath its shelter of the inner pussy lips. There would be no question that with a clit of that size, here was a girl who would delight in having her cunt sucked. Although it seemed all women loved to have a man bury his face in their crotch, Mike knew, there were some few women who seemed to react in a particularly intense fashion. These were the ones who would climax as soon as your tongue touched their clitoris or as soon as your tongue lanced up into their vaginas. This girl would be like that Mike knew. And he knew as well that she would be one capable of many repeated orgasms.
As the man knelt over her, Patti lifted her ass from the floor and raised up bringing her cunt up close to the young man's face. The open red gash was before him. The crowd could see the trickles of moisture that ran out of the lovely girl's love opening and trailed down the insides of her upper thighs to disappear into the crack of her buttocks. The free-flowing juice had also matted her cunt hair plastering in against her public mound.
The young man looked up at his companions and hesitated for a brief interval. Then he buried his face in her open pussy. The girl shrieked in delight as the man's tongue sought and found her randy clitoris. Her whole body tremembled and a long loud hiss poured out of her mouth. Her orgasm coming as soon as it did seemed to surprise the crowd. They, unlike Mike, had been unable to assess her earlier state of arousal and seemingly had not been aware of the clue provided by the size of the beautiful girl's erect clitoris.
"She's coming. Oh, God, she's coming already," one woman breathed.
Mike turned to see a woman watching the show on the floor. The man beside her had his hand under her dress obviously fingering her twat. The woman's hands were not idle either. The man's cock was out of his pants with her hand wrapped around it. Nonetheless, it was obvious that her attention was elsewhere. The rubbing motions of her hand were uneven and she seemed to be handling the man's prick as a second thought. That made no difference to the owner of the organ that she had in her hand, however. Before Mike turned back to the tableau on the floor he saw the opening at the tip of the penis swell and a series of powerful spurts of come jetted forth. The slimy semen coated the woman's hand and splashed on her skirt. Strings of sticky substance settled to the carpeted floor to form small puddles.
There could not be any denial of the sexuality present in the room. Mike felt his erect penis push against the cloth of her trousers.
On the floor, the girl's first orgasm had only been the first act. The men would not let her rest. They seemed determined to give her eager cunt all the attention that it seemed to crave. As the first man finished his job he stepped back, his long thin cock hanging limply now, and another took his place. The man who had done his job joined the third and they continued to play their ministration over the now sweaty form of the girl. Between her thighs their companion labored mightily fucking the soaking wet cunt.
Patti's eyes were closed. Her mouth lolled open. From her lips came the same soft words over and over again.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."
Mike looked up for a moment and caught Marcia's glance from the other side of the crowd. She smiled and turned her head from his toward the door and nodded meaningfully.
Mike understood and tore his eyes from the scene on the floor. The surrounding group had given up all pretense of reservation. All about him people were locked in passionate embraces. Several couples were already fucking right there in the brightly lighted room. The thick smell of sex filled the air. There was a huge quantity of come and pussy juice pouring out of cock and cunt into the room.
Mike made his way around the sprawled couples, taking care not to step on any exposed flesh, and made his way to the door he had seen Marcia pass through. The first blast of cool evening air made him stop short. After the heat of the room and the arousing scene that he had witnessed, the cool night air came as a surprise. Mike was amused and also shocked that he had been so caught up in the action that had been taking place that he really had lost all thought of where he was and what he was doing. He had always considered himself a cool and calm man, but he knew the stimulation he had received the last few minutes from the group fuck was more than any man could ignore. It took him a moment to orient himself and remember that Marcia had said that they could meet down by the pool.
As he stumbled over the lawn trying to avoid leaving too much skin on the wrought iron lawn furniture, he tried to peer into the darkness and see where the pool was. It was apparent that he and Marcia were not the only ones who wanted to make love under the stars. Several times he was brought up short by the sounds of moans and giggles coming from various places in the darkness about him.
From some place near by he heard a girl's eager voice.
"Please, Eddy, I'm so hot. Suck my cunt." The man's voice was harsh. "Goddamn it, I want to fuck."
"I know. I do too, but I'm so turned on I want to have everything before you put in me." There was a pause.
"Will you suck my cock while I eat you."
"A 69," the girl squealed.
Mike heard a brief flurry of activity as the two rearranged themselves mouth to cock and mouth to cunt. Then all he could hear were the wet sounds of her mouth as she moaned and sucked her lover's prick and he lapped at her pussy. Mike knew from the sound that they had to be only a few steps away from him and he moved silently in the opposite direction.
Suddenly he bumped into something on the ground and felt himself losing his balance. He fell to the ground on his belly. Beneath him a man grunted and girl broke into tinkly laughter.
The whole thing was one big orgy, Mike thought as he got to his feet. He wondered how much of this had been known in advance by Elly. It was obvious that she knew most of the people involved. She must have known how things would turn out.
Mike mumbled an apology to the' couple he had interrupted and asked them how to get to the pool.
"Jesus Christ," the man said angrily, "this isn't the goddamn traveler's aid booth. Find it yourself."
Mike felt his anger rise for a moment, but then the humor of the situation hit him and he backed off. He could not see in the inky blanket of darkness. For all he knew the two on the grass had just been about to come when he showed up with his questions. How would he have acted?
As he turned to go, the girl said, "Just keep going that way long enough and you'll fall into the pool."
Mike said thank you and kept walking carefully.
"If you don't find what you're looking for," the girl shouted after him, "you can come back here and do it with me."
The man's voice interrupted her.
"What kind of a nut is he to want to go swimming at a time like this."
"Oh, shut up silly," the girl told him, "and get your face back down in my cunt where it belongs."
Their love noises faded behind Mike.
The grounds were enormous. Mike estimated that he must have walked nearly fifty yards before he felt the grass under his feet give way to concrete. He assumed that he was at the pool's edge and dropped to his knees. His eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and he could see the outline of the pool before him.
But where was Marcia?
"Marcia?"
Silence.
"Where the hell are you?" He heard a giggle.
"Find me yourself."
"Damn it. I didn't come out here to play games."
"No?" she asked. Her voice was amused.
"Well," he said in the darkness, "not hide and seek games. Now come over here."
Still on his knees he strained to see into the darkness. He could see the pool, but that was all.
Suddenly he felt a cool hand on his neck.
"You must be part cat," Mike said in surprise.
"I'm part pussy," she said and they both laughed.
"Did watching all that public fucking turn you on?" she asked.
"You'll find out," he told her.
"I'm waiting."
"Are you?"
"Come fuck me, Mike."
He reached for her and she was there and ready for him. She pulled him down on top of her. His mouth met hers and their tongues met. Her wet tongue was a hard spear that filled his mouth.
"Oh, lover!" she moaned. "I need this so much."
Her body strained against his. She was a tigress beneath him.
"Oooooo yes, that's it. More."
Mike's hands worked under her blouse. She wore no brassiere and his hands filled with the sweet warmth of her thrusting tits.
"Tease the nipples. Tease them," she urged him.
Her constant urging stimulated Mike to greater heights.
Under Mike's artful manipulation Marcia seemed to forget about everything and her voice raised until it must have carried over the entire grounds. She seemed not to care; nor did Mike. They were both caught up in the heavy overwhelming need generated by their manipulation of each other. For them there was only this place and this moment. For them there was only the need, the demand, the fuck. For Mike, Marcia was a steaming cunt. To her he was a rigid prick. That was all they needed. That was all they wanted.
Mike held her mouth with his as his hands teased and worried her breasts.
"So good," she said in a whisper. "Use your mouth."
She reached up with her hands and, in her haste, she tore the buttons off her blouse in an effort to get her breasts free to Mike's mouth.
His lips closed over one free nipple and he felt it swell in his mouth.
Her fingers tangled in his hair. He rubbed the surface of the nipple with his tongue while his hands worked under the tight skirt that she wore. She squirmed under him as his hand worked its way up the long course of her trembling thigh. Her legs opened before him. Her yearning slit was there for him to touch.
All of her moving had raised her skirt up around her waist, so Mike had no trouble running his hand all the way up the inside of her creamy thigh and encountering the secret place of her desire. His fingers brushed lightly over the curls that covered her pussy. With a delicate touch he flicked one finger over her erect clitoris and moved down into the groove formed by her two small cunt lips. His finger split the warm wetness of her. The flow of moisture was immense. His probing finger easily slid between the two tender petals and moved further up into her vagina. The palm of his hand came up to cover the whole of her vulva and he pressed gently with the entire palm of his hand to stimulate all of the delicate nerve endings that carried the pleasure from the woman's cunt.
The effect on Marcia was electric. Her hips worked spasmodically against Mike's hand.
"There, there," she moaned. "Oh. Oh. Touch me more ... that's it. I feel it coming."
Her cunt was firm and tight. It gripped the finger he had inserted inside her. She used her cunt muscles like an expert.
Mike knelt over her, his mouth firmly clasped to one nipple, his hand deeply imbedded between her passionate, aroused thighs. Her creamy moisture flowed over his hand soaking her pussy and the insides of her legs.
One of Marcia's hands worked its way between them and she struggled to work his belt buckle free. Then she wormed her long cool fingers inside of his pants and clasped his huge erect peter. Mike's head swam. Her fingers worked the shaft, pulling and squeezing it, rubbing over the sensitive head. One finger touched lightly at the piss hole and smeared the oozing liquid found there over the entire tip of the rigid rammer.
"Oh, God, your cock," she gasped. "I need it."
Her vagina gripped his finger.
Her hot breath burned at his ear.
"Will you come if I suck it first?"
"Christ, yes," he told her. "I'm too excited. I want to shoot in your cunt first."
"Okay," she said, "but I want to lick your balls and suck your cock and drink your cream sometime."
"And I'll suck your clitoris until you come."
"Yes, yes, yes. Get it in me now."
He raised himself above her. His huge tool reached out toward her. Every nerve in his body was on fire.
Then he touched at her outer portal.
"Ohhhhh." It was one long sob that broke from her lips.
Her frantic hand tried to help, but she trembled so violently that she could not effect the entry.
Mike brushed her hand aside and opened her thighs still further. He could not see in the dark, but he knew that this would split open her inner pussy lips as well and give him a clear passage into her crack. With an ease born of much practice, he lunged forward and pierced her to the quick.
Once inside her he remained quiet for a moment. Then he began a series of even measured thrusts, pulling his cock nearly out with each up stroke. When he came back down again he felt his pubis bang into Marcia's and his hair met the hair on her pussy. He knew that such heavy firm strokes would not only ream out her vagina, but would send thrills of pleasure through her clitoris as well. Her tight vagina gripped him firmly and he could hear a soft wet noise as he moved his prick in her cunt.
Suddenly she began to move faster.
She gripped him with her long legs. She ground her cunt against him.
"Here it comes!" she yelled as the crisis approached. "Darling. Darling."
And then it happened. The night sky was replaced with a flash of intense light that almost blinded Mike. When it seemed that the woman's tortured body could stand no more, her nerves gave one last shudder and then came the blessed release that left her trembling and twitching on the cool grass and cement under Mike's weight.
For a moment she had fainted. When she regained her senses a moment later Mike had rolled off her and was sitting next to her looking down at her. She could not see him, but she knew from the touch that he was sitting and she imagined that she could see him.
Her hand reached out and captured his still swollen cock. It was damp with the sticky juice from her cunt and his own rich outpouring of sperm. She bent over and took the delicious tool into her mouth for a moment running her tongue over the sensitive head and sucking deeply. She seemed excited by the idea of sucking the cock that had just filled her vagina and was still covered with both juices.
Mike lay back, but her hand followed him refusing to give up the wand in her hand.
"Oh, golly, but I loved it," she said.
"Did you now?" Mike asked.
The woman's hand tightened on his prick.
"You tease," she said. "You know I did. You couldn't help but tell, could you?"
"No. You were good."
Again she returned her attention to what she held in her hand. She bounced the now soft flesh in her palm.
"It seems funny that this little thing could have done all that," she said with a chuckle in her voice.
As she spoke she felt the soft tool move a little in her hand and then it began to fill with blood and grow once again.
"So soon?" she screamed in glee.
"With a cunt like yours so close I think I could manage to keep a permanent hard on," Mike replied.
"Oh, baby," Marcia said, her hand working the swelling cock.
"If you're ready again," Mike said.
"Oh, no. Not now. I had enough of this lovely thing to last a week. You really know how to give it to a girl. I'm only afraid that my poor little pussy will be so used to this wonderful prick that I may never be able to satisfy it with anything less."
"Any time you need me."
"For a minute there I thought I might have died and gone to heaven." Mike laughed. "Do they fuck in heaven?"
"They damn well better," Marcia said. "Or else I don't want to go there. Imagine fucking on a cloud."
Mike sat up and pulled away from her hand. He could hear the sounds of the crickets as they chirped happily in the spring evening and he thought he heard the sound of a bat or an owl in the night sky. For a moment he was alone and he just listened, forgetting where he was and what he was doing.
"We should get back," he said at last. The others will wonder where we are."
"Don't let that bother you. No one comes here to see me. They all have plenty to do on their own."
Mike wondered at a note of bitterness in her voice.
"Are your parties always like this?" he asked.
"Usually they end up like this. This is a place where all the rules are thrown away. For some people it's sex. For others drugs. For others it means a chance to get off in a corner with a member of their own sex. Does that last part surprise you? Right now there are probably several couples where two women have their tongues in each other's cunts. Hell, there may even be a couple of guys around sucking each others cocks for all I know. But the women are the worst ones. I know a hell of a lot more queer women than queer men."
"I always thought it was the other way around. Aren't there more male homosexuals than female?"
"It only seems that way because a woman can hide it easier. A lesbian can always open her legs and let a man fuck her and pretend to be straight. But a guy has to get a hard on. He has to go out and get his ass. So it is harder for a man to pretend he is what he isn't. One of the purest lesbians I know is married and has two kids. But she probably only has fucked her husband a half dozen times in the ten years that they have been married."
"How do you know all that?"
Marcia laughed.
"Whose pussy do you think he gets into when his wife turns him down at home."
"Yours?"
"Probably others too. I can't take care of him all the time. But don't worry baby, he has nothing that can match you for equipment."
"Who is it?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not really. I just wondered."
"I suppose I could tell you. I don't like gossip, but what the hell. It's Wes Underwood. I don't think you know him."
"I do. He works for Elly's husband, doesn't he."
"That's the one. I'm sure I don't have to ask you to keep quiet about it do I."
"I was just curious."
"Don't tell Elly. It will get to her husband and might embarrass Wes. I don't want to do that."
"I would suppose that she already knows. Something like that."
"Maybe. But be careful."
"As I said before. Some party."
"Most of them can't wait to get out here," Marcia said.
"Where you can sample all the merchandise," Mike added.
"That's part of it. But I am fussy."
"Can I take that as a compliment then?"
"You were the pick of the litter."
"I don't know if I like it put that way. It makes me feel too much like a stud."
"Oh, don't be such a goose," she laughed. "You're a real man. You can use me as a reference if you ever need one in this line of work."
"Will your husband sign the reference too?"
"I would imagine right now a few thousand miles away from here that long skinny cock of his is ramming in and out of some strange twat he found to keep him company." She paused. "We have our understanding. We have a modern marriage."
"That usually means that the husband and wife can't stand each other, but don't want to get a divorce for any of a lot of reasons so they just go of fucking on their own."
"Very good. What are you, a psychologist?"
"No just a guy who never thought he could make it as a husband and who wonders why so many other losers ever even try."
"Maybe just to get it regularly."
"Christ no. That can't be it."
"Maybe you will get married some day."
There was a long pause.
Finally Mike said, "Yes, maybe someday. Who knows."
"I suppose we should get back," she said. "Yes."
"Maybe we can do this again," she said.
Mike thought not, but he got to his feet and helped her up saying that he would look forward to it.
They hunted around in the darkness for their clothes and got dressed as best they could. It seemed cooler now and Mike was aware of the clammy feeling of his clothes. He brushed twigs and loose grass from himself. They started-back toward the house. Marcia led the way and Mike followed with his hand in hers. It was worth following behind a woman if it meant that he could save his shins a few knocks on the iron and cement furniture that was scattered all around the grounds.
From off to one side a feminine shriek split the night air and they both laughed. Somewhere, someone had just climaxed in the night and, like Marcia and Mike a few minutes ago, they gave no cares as to who heard them. Mike could not help wondering how many people had heard his groans and Marcia's shrill yell a short time before, but no one would have had any way of knowing who it had been. For that he was happy.
They entered the living room and Mike was surprised to see that it was almost empty. For the most part, the only people that remained were asleep in the chairs. Here and there a couple lay on the floor half or completely naked or perhaps covered by a coat or blanket by some well meaning person who had passed them.
Several people, two men and a woman, all the worse for wear, stood off to one side of the room arguing in subdued voices. They paid no attention to Mike and Marcia as they came in. Except that the woman was naked there was nothing odd about the three of them. She stood sideways to Mike and could see that her cunt hair was a soggy mass and was plastered to her loins. The two men had probably given her a good work out during the past few hours. One of them must have come right in her bush to have made it so wet. Probably he was so excited he came from sheer excitement before he even got his tool inside of her snatch.
Mike looked around for Elly and could not see her.
He was not especially concerned, but he wanted to make sure that no fight or argument came of this evening. That might throw a monkey wrench into the plans for the set up with Allan Farris. He reminded himself that this had all been Elly's idea and she surely must have know how it would all end up. The question was who did she come here to fuck tonight?
"Mike, darling," Marcia said, "I really am exhausted and I have to go into town tomorrow morning so I am going to bed. Can you manage to take care of yourself from here?"
Mike nodded.
"Did you drive?"
"Yes. But I don't see Elly. Do you think I should wait around to be sure that she gets a ride?"
Marcia's face wore an amused expression.
"That shouldn't be necessary. It usually isn't. If she hasn't gone already, she can stay here and I can give her a ride into town in the morning."
"Okay," Mike said. "Goodnight, Marcia."
"You will come again?"
"Of course," he lied.
"Good. Then goodnight." She stood up on her toes and brushed his lips with her own, then turned and walked out of the room.
Mike got his jacket from the room with all the coats. The same couple that had been in the room when he and Elly had arrived hours before slept soundly on the bed, the man's cock standing stiff and ready to fuck even in his deep sleep. After an evening like the man must have had with the girl beside him Mike wondered that there was any life left at all in his rigid pole. But for all Mike knew the two of them never left the room and all they did was fuck day and night without ever even stopping to eat.
The night air was cool on his face as he left the house. He took his time driving home and was surprised to see that it was nearly two in the morning before he pulled up in front of his apartment building. He thought about Elly and figured that she must be with Wes Underwood. Mike was not jealous, but he was curious and a little bit worried. He could trust himself to keep his mouth shut, but he was worried that Elly might let something slip and Underwood worked for her husband. There was a distinct possibility that Underwood felt a business loyalty to Allan Farris that existed in spite of the fact that he was banging his wife. Elly was sex. But to Underwood Farris represented money and security. To some men that was more important than all the cunt in the world.
Mike left the car in front of the building. Without the cool air blowing in his face he felt sleepy and was eager to get to bed. For the moment he put the worries of Elly Farris, Allan Farris and all that good green money out of his mind.
CHAPTER 8
The next few days kept Mike busy at work. He was glad that he had enough to keep his mind occupied. He had several jobs that would take him out of town, but he was reluctant to leave his office or his apartment sure that Jack Anderson would call any time now. He wanted to be sure that he missed no opportunity to get Farris. If he let one chance slip by there was no telling how long it would be before it would come up again.
Friday morning he was at his desk when the phone rang. His secretary was out of the office and Mike picked up the phone himself.
"Reston? "the voice asked.
"That's right," Mike replied.
"This is Jack Anderson. I think we have something." Mike's heart pounded. This could be it. "Let me hear it and I'll decide," Mike said impatiently.
He was irritated with Anderson's slow way of getting into it.
"Can we talk on the phone?" Anderson asked. "It's safe. Go ahead."
"Okay. I've been following Farris like you told me. I'll tell you one thing. That guy is a mover. He's always on the go. I'm really earning my money."
"Skip the crap," Mike said.
There was a pause and Mike could hear Anderson swallow several times. What the hell Mike thought. He didn't have to worry about Anderson's feelings.
"There's a girl," Anderson continued, "Just like you figured. He doesn't have an apartment for her, but they meet several times a week in hotels around town."
Mike was eager now. This was it.
"Go on."
"He has a room reserved at the Waymore Hotel for tomorrow night. I was able to get the room number for you."
"Are you sure it's for the girl? It could be business or even to get away from his wife for a while."
"Naw. He registered Mr. and Mrs. and used a phony name. That's not a business meeting."
"What's the room number?"
"502," Anderson said. "It cost me an extra hundred to get that. I'll add it to your bill."
"Fuck you, Anderson," Mike said harshly. "With what we pay you, you can damn well take the extra hundred out of that."
"Wait a minute before you get all excited. There's more. I registered room 504 for you. It's under the name Wright, William Wright. That cost me a hundred more. Will I get it?"
"You're damn right you will," Mike said happily. "Maybe you're not such a jerk after all."
"Thanks a lot," Anderson replied with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I know what I'm doing. Now that ends my part of it, right?"
"Right."
"What about my dough?"
"If this turns out as you say you will have your money Monday morning," Mike told him. "If it flops we'll still have to keep trying."
"Listen, Reston. I came through for you," Anderson said. "If you blow it now you can't blame me."
"But, damn it, we don't know for sure yet, do we?" Mike asked heatedly. Anderson backed down at the tone of Mike's voice.
"Okay," he said. "Monday will be fine. Bring cash to my office."
"You'll get it," Mike said.
Mike replaced the phone trying hard to control his raging excitement. In a few days it would all be over. He would have a cool quarter of a million dollars in his own hands. He had to celebrate. He thought momentarily of Elly and knew that that was out of the question. Not at this point in the operation. Still he had to let her know.
Once again Mike picked up the phone and dialed Elly's number. There was little danger in calling her at home he knew. He had not spoken to her since Marcia Lawton's party several days earlier.
"I thought you had servants to answer the phone," Mike said as Elly answered.
"I'm not helpless, you know," Her voice was soft and Mike tried to read what she felt.
"What happened to you the other night?" he asked.
"What happened to me?" she exclaimed. "What about you?"
"You left before I did," Mike told her. "I stayed for the show."
"I heard about Patti's act. God. She will go after anything with a cock. Did you help her out?"
"No, I'm afraid that I passed it up. I think a lot of people enjoyed it though."
"I can imagine."
"What about you?"
"If you must know, I wound up with Wes Underwood. No sex. Just talk. That's probably more than you can say. Whose panties did you take off? I'll bet they were Marcia's." Elly's voice held the tone a taunt, but Mike could tell that she was not seriously angry.
He changed the subject.
"Jack Anderson called."
"Oh?" she replied quickly. "What did he say."
"It looks like tomorrow night."
"Where?" she asked breathlessly. Mike hesitated, but then went ahead and told her. "Allan has a room at the Waymore Hotel for tomorrow night."
"Are you sure it's with a girl?"
"Not as sure as I would like to be, but he's registered under a phony name so I think that we have a good chance."
"Oh, Mike," Elly said, her voice rising with excitement. "Come see me tonight."
"Not tonight," Mike said. "It's too close to have something foul it up at this point. I'll call you as soon as it is over. Or as soon as it flops. One way or the other, you'll know."
"Tell me what you plan to do."
Again Mike hesitated. But he had to trust Elly, for god's sake. She was part of it.
"It's simple, really. I just tape the sounds, then bust in and get a few pictures."
For a moment Elly remained silent.
"Be careful, Mike."
"Don't worry about me," he said. "I want to be around to spend all the money we're going to get."
"Mike, I'm sorry, I don't want to sound like a silly woman, but maybe you should take a gun or something."
"A gun?" He was surprised.
"Just to be sure," she said. "Just to scare anybody if trouble comes up."
For some reason Mike did not want to tell Elly about the gun he had and had already planned to take with him.
"Don't worry," he repeated. "I can handle myself."
"Okay. You know best."
"I'll call you," he said.
"I'll be waiting," she said and hung up.
Without returning the phone to the cradle Mike dialed Sandy's number. He glanced at his watch as he dialed and nodded to see that it was late enough so that she would be home.
When he got her on the phone he told her to be ready for him in about an hour. She tried to get him to tell her where they were going, but he refused to do insisting that it would have to be a surprise.
"Mike, you know I can't stand surprises," she squealed in delight.
"You have to this time," he insisted. "Oh, you."
"Be ready."
"I will."
She was waiting for him at the door when he arrived about fifty minutes later.
"Ready?" he asked when she opened the door at his knock.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she said and kissed him on the lips.
He helped her with her light spring coat and walked with him to his car. It was another beautiful spring evening and the ride was pleasant. Several times Sandy asked where they were going, but Mike refused to tell her.
"Hungry?" Mike asked her once they were out on the highway.
Sandy nodded and said that she was.
They stooped at a road house and had a quick drink while the kitchen fixed them both up with steak sandwiches. After they had eaten they returned to the car and Mike pointed it in a direction away from the city.
They drove for about a half an hour with the car radio playing softly. Sandy snuggled down in the seat and put her head on Mike's arm. She sighed softly.
Mike turned off the main road and continued on a gravel road for several miles. After what seemed like a hundred turns and curves the road leveled out and Sandy could see a small brown building in through the trees. The parking lot next to the building was filled to capacity.
"Mike," she cried in surprise. "What is it? I never even knew that this place existed."
"Just wait," Mike told her with a huge grin. "Is it a party."
"Wait, you'll see."
"Oh, you," she said, but was silent after that.
Sandy followed Mike up to the door. The door was solid with no window and, as she looked at the rest of the squat building, she was surprised to note that all of the windows had been painted over with black paint. This only served to increase her curiosity.
Mike knocked on the door. It was opened immediately by a large heavy set man with an ugly scar across his cheek. For a moment he looked at them, then his face brightened.
"Mike! You're a son of a bitch, but I'm happy to see you anyway."
"Call yourself names," Mike told him and reached to shake the outstretched hand.
"Charlie told me you called. I told him you wouldn't come. Mike Reston forgets his old friends." The man's voice was deep and gruff, but held no malice.
"You know better than that, Turk."
Turk grinned.
"I'm kidding," he said.
Sandy stood silently as the two men exchanged a few words. Finally Mike broke away from the man he had called Turk and led Sandy to a small table that had two chairs next to it. The room was filled with about twenty-five tables just like theirs and there were people at most of them. There were drinks on most of the tables and the people spoke in soft voices. Most of the tables were occupied by couples like Sandy and Mike, but at several tables there were pairs of women and one foursome.
At the far end of the room a heavy curtain screened whatever was on the other side. Mike ordered drinks for himself and Sandy from a small man who drifted up to their table and then away again with hardly any sound at all. The effect was to create a sort of dream like state for Sandy. It seemed almost unreal, but not for any reason that she could put her finger on.
They had no more time than for a brief sip of their drinks before they both became aware of the soft, but steady beat of a distant drum. The sound was soft and pleasant, but grew in intensity as they listened. People settled in their seats. The room was quiet. No one made a sound.
The lighted room began to dim. The drum was joined by the wail of a saxophone. Sandy felt her excitement rise. She reached out to grasp Mike's hand. He looked at her and smiled. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed his back.
Suddenly the curtains began to separate slowly. They revealed a small stage that held nothing except a large touch. From off to one side a woman entered. She wore a long evening gown and incredibly high-heeled shoes. Her dark black hair swirled down over her shoulders. She seemed to glide to the center of the stage. She was beautiful. Her full red lips and sparkling eyes made her face intensely exciting.
Slowly she began to dance. Her movements carried her across the stage with her long black hair swinging free. Occasionally a violent shake of her head would send the hair cascading down over her face. Her shoulders moved almost hypnotically as she reached behind her and loosened the long gown she wore. The top fell away from her breasts, but she caught it before it bared her chest. The music came faster and faster. She moved her body in time to the music letting the swelling tempo of the drum catch her up and carry her along. Her hips began to gyrate back and forth and at last she let the top of her dress fall free exposing her magnificent breasts. They were large and full, standing high and haughty with no support. Her nipples were a fierce angry shade of purple.
Quickly now, the girl on the stage let the rest of the dress fall away from her body and she stood there in only a skimpy wisp of material that fringed her loins. Her hips continued to move as she kept time to the music. Her hands crept over the large tips of her tits, rubbing and caressing them as if they were not a part of her own body, but those of an unseen lover. Her face revealed her sensual delight. Her mouth opened and her eyes flashed.
It was obvious that the girl gloried in showing her body to the people before her. Her thighs slowly opened and she ran her hands up over them from the inside. All around Mike and Sandy could be heard labored breathing as the people in the audience became caught up in the sexy display on the stage.
For Mike this was different than the night when he had walked out of the show at Marcia's. Perhaps it was the presence of the lovely girl beside him. A girl for whom he was coming to care quite deeply. At any rate the erotic dance stimulated him more than all the fucking he had witnessed that night.
With a sudden movement the girl on the stage pulled the last slip of cloth from her body and tossed it aside. She stood still for a moment letting all take a good look at her naked body. Her breasts stood high. A huge patch of heavy hair sprouted from the lower part of her belly. It was impossible to catch even a glimpse of the lips of her cunt through the heavy growth of hair even though she stood with her legs parted slightly.
Then still in time to the music the girl moved back several steps to the couch. Gently she seated herself on it, her feet planted firmly on the floor. She sat facing the audience for a moment and then lay back. Her large breasts still stood up proudly. Her fingers traced lines up her thighs. And then slowly her long legs began to part. Aimed right at the people sitting at the tables the long lean columns of flesh parted to reveal the full glory of the girl's steaming cunt.
There was a collective gasp from the audience. Although her cunt hair grew heavy and black on the top of her pussy, there was very little of it along the outer lips of the slit itself. Consequently the whole pink and red open gash was easily seen. The little pink lips were still compressed with the darker red tip of the clitoris peeping out from beneath their upper juncture. The love flesh trembled before their eyes.
Gently, with long fingers the girl reached down and parted the lips of her cunt. She inserted one finger into the cleft and rubbed it in and out several times. Moisture began to form on her fingers and trickle down between her open legs. She withdrew her finger from her vagina and let her fingers dance lightly over the whole of her pussy. The finger that she had had deep within her cunt she raised to her mouth and lifted her head so the people could see her suck on it.
Men and women groaned as they watched. All attention was focused on the stage. The music faded into the background.
"You'd love to suck that cunt, wouldn't you?" a woman at a table next to Sandy and Mike taunted her companion.
"Christ yes," the man muttered not taking "his eyes from the stage for an instant.
"But you won't eat me even when I ask you to," the woman said.
"Shut up, will you?" the man said heatedly. "If your cunt looked like that I'd eat you anytime. Now let me watch."
"Can I suck your cock?"
There was a sound of a zipper.
"Here. But don't make me come yet. I don't want to ruin this by coming too soon."
Sandy glanced over to the couple to see the woman take her companion's prick into her mouth. Sandy's tongue flicked out over her own lips. She swallowed.
Sandy returned her attention to the stage. The girl had her fingers holding her cunt open as far as it would go. She bounced up on her ass making all the movements of fucking although there was no cock to fill her.
Suddenly a man appeared on the stage. Sandy could hardly believe her eyes. She had heard of such things, but did not believe that they really existed. People fucking in public. Letting strangers see the sex act. Letting them see your excitement. A young man, totally naked, emerged from behind a curtain at the side of the stage. The girl pretended to be surprised and backed away from him. Sandy's eyes were drawn to the young man. He was aroused. His huge prick stood straight out from a bush of curly dark hair. It was immense. Even from the distance at which Mike and Sandy sat it was possible to see a drop of moisture ooze from the open slit at the tip of the huge cock head. Even the healthy sturdy cock that Mike had was small when compared to the huge rod of the man on the stage. As if she feared her ability to contain the threatening charger the girl backed away more quickly as the young man pursued her.
She circled the stage with the man getting closer and closer. The soft music seemed to gain in intensity. At last the girl was backed up to a point where the backs of her long thighs were up against the couch. In her eyes there was a look of terror. Slowly she sank to the couch, a trace of a smile appearing on her face for the first time.
Sandy was practically wild. All around them there were odd sounds. The man joined the girl on the couch. He ran his eager hands all over her lush form. For her part the girl gave up all pretense of resisting and began to respond to him. His hands worked at her breasts, pulling and tugging at the flesh, rubbing the large nipples into standing peaks of passion.
Sandy squirmed in her seat and reached for Mike's hand.
"Mike," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "What can we do?"
All around them couples were locked in tight embraces. Next to them they heard a woman's hot voice say, "Push it in. All the way. Christ, I can hardly feel you. I'm sopping wet."
"I'm so hot, Mike," Sandy cried. "Feel me. Feel with your hand. Rub me while I watch."
He eyes remained glued to the stage while Mike's hand moved under her dress and found her panties. Sandy slumped lower in her chair pushing her ass forward to give Mike's hand easier access to her hot cave of desire. Moving her legs apart allowed Mike to reach down and press against the outside of her steaming cunt. On the stage the black-haired girl was responding ardently to the man now. She was spread out on the couch with her thighs open to his masterfull caresses. One of the man's fingers disappeared into the pink slit while the other fingers rubbed over the outer lips of the drooling pussy. A light white froth ran over the man's hands and speckled the dark black cunt hair.
Sandy reached out a hand to fumble at Mike's trouser front and felt his straining prick pressing beneath the rough material.
"Mike, I can't stand it," she panted.
He pressed his lips to her mouth and speared her with his tongue.
She pulled her mouth away.
"Reach in farther," she moaned. "Tear my panties so you can get your hand on me."
He excitement was raging. Never had Mike found Sandy so utterly given over to pure sexual responses as she was doing now.
She bounced her ass on the chair in her impatient-sate.
"Come on. Come on. In my cunt."
Her lovely flesh was throbbing, there was the sound of tearing material and Sandy let out a sharp cry as she felt Mike's hand seek and then find the open wet petals of her yearning pussy. All around them other couples were similarly occupied. Near the front of the stage where the performers were now locked in each other's arms, the man's huge tool rushing in and out of the girl's gaping hole, another couple slipped from their chairs and in a flurry of torn and disarranged garments met and joined their organs together in a scene of mutual lust on the floor beneath the table.
"Come on," Mike whispered against Sandy's mouth.
"not in here."
Sandy's legs would hardly support her. She got to her feet with an effort and followed Mike out of the room and out of the door. Mike led her to a stretch of grass behind the building. She sank to the ground with Mike's weight on top of her. His hands never left her swollen breasts and he worked maddeningly at the firm mounds.
"OOOhhhh," the lovely girl quivered as his tongue rubbed over the surface of one rigid nipple. Deftly he flicked his tongue over the tender flesh drawing it into his mouth with a full sucking motion.
"You really want it, don't you?" Mike teased, his own breath short and coming in gasps.
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"Mike," she protested.
"Tell me," he repeated.
"Don't stop. Suck some more."
"Where? Where do you want me to suck?"
There was no response.
"Say it."
"Mike, please. Don't tease me like this."
"Say it."
"My nipples."
"Where else?"
"The other place."
"Say it."
"I can't."
"Your cunt."
Sandy swallowed and looked right up into Mike's eyes.
"My cunt," she said. "Suck my cunt and fuck me." They both were frantic tearing their clothes off. The garments littered the area around them.
Sandy's hand reached out and seized Mike's towering cock. Her palm rubbed over it spreading the drop of moisture she found there over the whole of the huge dick head.
"Fuck me," she demanded.
There could be no further delay now. Each was at the peak of excitement and their passion seemed only to inflame the other to even further heights. Sandy's legs were spread wide open, the slit of her cunt moist and ready. She arched up seeming to try to capture Mike's rod with her gash. Her hips heaved. Her ass beat against the ground. Her cunt seemed to open of its own volition.
And then he was there. His magnificent cock slid into the outer portal of her vagina and then with one smooth motion he lay buried deep within her love canal. As he began the long in and out fucking movements the girl rotated her hips rubbing her open cunt against his cock hair and balls. He was aware of the slap of his sack against the globes of her ass.
His movements became faster. Sandy kept right up with him. There was little doubt that at their peak of excitement neither could take much more of the hot fuck. Sandy was the first to come.
"I feel it," she gasped. "Now. Now."
Mike slammed into her. Her orgasm triggered his own and he felt her smooth vagina grab at his turgid cock as it milked the sperm from him. Again and again he felt the tremendous muscular spasms of his monstrous penis as it shot huge gobs of come into the pink recesses of Sandy's womb.
His own choked scream was lost in the furious explosion that seemed to set them free of the ground. The wind filled his ears and he felt suspended for a moment, motionless between two high cliffs, waiting for the fall to come that would dash his body on the rocks below. But as the jets of sperm drained from him he slowly and gently, as if on a cloud, felt himself settle back to the ground. For a time they both lay still.
Sandy's voice was soft when she finally spoke some time later.
"Never. Never." was all that she said.
Mike mumbled.
"It's never been like that," she said at last. Mike rolled off of her.
Sandy lay with her legs still wide spread. Her cunt was still filled and swollen, the tender lips open. Gobs of sperm oozed out of her vagina and droplets were tangled in her soft girlish cunt hair. A sticky string trailed down her thigh.
"We should get up," Mike said at last.
"I wish we could stay here forever."
"We'd freeze."
"Not me. Not with you here to heat me up."
"You would starve."
"I could eat you." Mike laughed.
"I hope that I understand that correctly," he told her.
"You do."
"Good."
They gathered their clothing and got dressed. Mike had a moment to muse that this was the second time, with the second woman, that he had searched for his clothes on patch of grass in less than a week. I'm turning into a regular pan, he thought. And it's not bad at all.
CHAPTER 9
The next day dawned with a sense of urgency for Mike. He busied himself at his apartment as long as he could, trying to make time pass. Finally, a little afternoon, he got in the car and drove downtown to the Waymore Hotel. He registered as he had planned and went up to look at the room that Anderson had reserved for him.
The Waymore was not a new hotel, but it had a reputation for a kind of quiet elegance that would attract a man like Allan Farris. His room was large and comfortable. There were two large double beds in the room and, along with a desk and chair, a sturdy walnut dresser. The room had its own bath and there was a door that led to the room next to it. The door, however, was locked on his side and Mike knew that a matching door would be locked on the other side, in room 502, as well. Room 504, the room he was in, was an end room and he had windows on two sides. He peered through the curtains down at the street below. On the far corner he could see the clock over the bank that read nearly one o'clock.
Mike had a number of things to do and was anxious to get started. He returned to the street and to his car that was parked nearly two blocks away. He retrieved his battered, well used suitcase that held no clothes but contained all the equipment that he would need. He knew the area around the hotel well, but to be on the safe side he walked around the block that housed the hotel to get a good picture of the terrain in his mind. It probably did not accomplish much, but had the welcome effect of setting some of his tension aside and he felt more at ease when he returned to his room. Once inside the room Mike drew the heavy drapes and made sure the door was securely locked. Opening the suitcase, Mike removed the camera that he would use. He fitted the strobe unit to the camera and set the film so that it would be ready to go. When the time came, he would have everything ready. It would have to be ready to go with no room left for error.
The door between the two rooms was next. If he had no way of getting into the room next door there would be no pictures and without the pictures the tape recording that he hoped to get would be of dubious value. It was possible that there would be very little talking, and in that case, all he would get would be the rustle of clothing and possibly a few giggles. And maybe a scream or moan as Farris and the girl came. But the tape would add something to the pictures. Make them more foolproof.
It was easy to get the door opened on his side. There was only one lock and the door had no auxiliary bolt or lock and chain set up. He hoped that it would be the same on the other side. He thanked his luck for the fact that the hotel was old enough to have been built before any really sophisticated lock and chain combinations were used. The room had been remodeled recently, but no one had paid much attention to the interlocking doors.
Suddenly Mike froze, his heart filled his throat. There was a tap on the door. Who could it be? Only Anderson would know he was here and Anderson was probably a thousand miles away on this day. He would not want to be anywhere around when Farris started to check up on the people involved in this little scheme.
"Not me," Anderson would say. "I was out of town that day. I was visiting my sister in Chicago."
Mike hurriedly stuffed all the loose equipment back into the suitcase. He closed the case and latched it, wincing as he scraped his finger on the metal catch.
"Just a minute," he called.
His sigh of relief after he opened the door made the woman who stood there look at him in surprise.
"Towels," she said. "You got in here so early that I didn't have a chance to put in the clean towels."
She tried to walk past Mike into the room, but he stood in her way.
"That's all right," he said. "I can manage."
He took the towels and small bar of hotel soap from her outstretched hand and started to close the coor.
"Can I get you anything else?" the woman asked.
Mike wanted to scream at her and tell her to get the hell out of the way, but he knew that he had already aroused her attention and he had no wish to make her even more curious about him. He wanted to just be another faceless member of the crowd.
"No, that's all right," he said forcing his voice to remain calm and pleasant. "Nothing else now. I'll call if I need anything."
The look of interest disappeared from her face and Mike felt a shiver of relief as he closed the door. A small incident. But it was the small things, the unplanned things that he had to guard against. He had all the big things covered and he did not want things fucked up now by some useless, careless little mistake.
He returned to the job of getting the doors between the two rooms opened. It took him a little time, but eventually he was rewarded by the sound of the tumblers in the adjoining door falling into place and the door swung open to reveal a room very much like the one in which he stood. Mike wasted no more time. He busied himself with the placement of the microphone and spent another half hour running the wire from it carefully under the carpet and into a groove he cut along the baseboard. He covered it at its exposed points with electricians' tape. He had to hope that if Farris saw the wire at these points he would not be alarmed by it.
For a moment Mike allowed himself to imagine what it would be like when he burst in on Farris and the girl. They would be fucking, naturally. He would wait until that moment before he did anything. A picture of them naked would be enough he was sure, but if he could get a shot of Farris actually ramming her it would be even better. Besides if Farris had his prick in the girl's cunt when Mike jumped into the room he would be lesslikely to be able to jump at Mike or to make a fuss. Hell, Mike thought, if he could time it right so that he came in just as Farris was shooting his load it would be even better. Farris would riot even want to stop.
Mike had had a similar experience himself and he knew how it could be. He had been in his last year in high school. He had been dating Carla for several months, but had never been able to score. She had let him play with her young tits and once let him get a finger into her snatch, but she turned him down cold when he pressed for more. Needless to say, he was hotter than hell for her. He was not used to being denied. Finally one night they had been at her house and had been fooling around on the sofa for nearly an hour when it began to seem as if this might be the time. She had unzipped his pants and had pulled out his stiff cock and was pulling at it in a naive, but exciting manner.
"Your parents," he had whispered.
"Gone. They won't be back until late."
"What about your sister, Pat?"
"What do you care about her for? She's probably out fucking that skinny boyfriend of hers." Mike's excitement grew.
"You never talked like that before," he told Carla.
"You never had me so hot before," she responded.
"Really?"
"Uh huh."
There was a pause.
"Mike."
"What?"
"Do some more things to me."
Her soft breath against his ear drove all caution from his mind and his hand dove for her lap. Her young thighs spread beneath her full skirt and his fingers flashed past her knees and upper thighs making straight for the forbidden land of her cunt. He touched her and stopped.
"No panties," he said in surprise.
Carla grinned.
"Did you think that you were the only one who wanted this, silly."
"No, but...."
"Girls like sex too, you know."
Mike may have been only seventeen-years-old at the time and fairly unsophisticated, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut. There was a time for talking and a time for action.
"Put your finger in me," she whispered. "Rub it around in there."
Mike did as he was told.
"Yes, like that."
Slowly Mike took over and in a few minutes they were both stripped and back in each others arms. Gently he spread her legs and lowered himself between them. His lance touched the outer lips and he paused. He knew this was not her first time. His fingers had told him that there was no barrier, but he hesitated.
"Come on. Come on," Carla urged. She rotated her hips and captured his cock head between the lips of her open vulva.
Mike drove forward and lodged his member firmly within her.
"Why did you make me wait so long?" he asked gruffly.
"Wait. Just fuck me now. Talk later." She reached up and clasped her arms around him pulling his sweaty body tightly to hers. Her long slim legs wrapped around him and he could feel the roughness of her heels on the backs of his thighs.
Slowly they began the in and out movements of the fuck. But it was only slow for a moment. Both were young and impatient. Mike quickly felt the come churning deeply within his young balls.
"I can't wait much longer," he mouthed into Carla's ear.
She slammed up against him. "I'm coming," Carla gasped.
"Me too," Mike said as he felt the first spasm course through him.
Just then the dim room was flooded with light. As the full force of his orgasm burst over him Mike was dimly aware of a voice he knew to be Carla's mother screaming the girl's name. A rough hand gripped his shoulder.
"Get off her you animal," he heard Carla's father yell. "Goddamn you. Get out of here."
But there was no stopping. And it was clear that Carla would not stop either. They kept fucking right there under the eyes of the girl's parents oblivious to the tumult around them. Mike felt the hot come gush out of his penis and flood the girl's vagina. Up and down his ass worked as he rammed the juicy pussy. Finally, he was pulled off and thrust to the floor. He looked up and saw Carla's parents standing over them. Carla's mother and father had their eyes fixed on the spot between Carla's legs where Mike had just withdrawn from. The pink lips were open exposing the red interior. White gobs of come oozed out of the gaping slit and dripped to the floor. For a moment there was only silence.
"My God. You fucked my baby," the woman said.
In spite of himself Mike almost laughed at the stupidity of the woman's words.
Carla's father was still silent. He could not seem to tear his eyes from the sight of his daughter's well used cunt.
"Like to get a little of that yourself, wouldn't you?" Mike taunted.
It was not a prudent thing to have said. The man erupted into a rage and dove for Mike. Fortunately, because of his size Mike was able to take care of himself and a few minutes later he found himself outside of Carla's house clutching his clothes with one hand and his shoes with the other.
That had been the first and last time he had had with Carla. But it provided him with amusement for many years after. And from that he knew that Farris would be almost helpless if caught anywhere near the point of climax.
By three o'clock Mike had everything set up. He looked at his watch and checked it against the bank clock outside the window. Farris and the girl would probably not check in until early evening, but now that everything was in place it would make no difference if they wanted to take advantage of a lazy afternoon and get in some action now. Mike was prepared for them. But he wanted to be in the room when they arrived. There was always the outside chance that they would only fuck and run and Mike could not take a chance on missing them. There would be no harm in a little fresh air however.
Mike left the hotel and walked into a blast of heat that surprised him. Summer, with all of its intensity was here. The pavement reflected the heat making the sidewalk like an oven. Mike made a mental note to put air-conditioning in his car as soon as he got the money from this deal.
He smiled, pleased with himself. As long as a man had the money there was no reason that he should do without the things that made like more comfortable, was there? He paused in front of a movie theater and looked at the advertisements for the pictures being shown inside. He had time to kill and he debated going inside, but decided not to. Better to just take it easy and sit in the hoter room. Besides, the picture did not really turn him on. It was the story of a giant tomato that had been exposed to gamma radiation and had developed a brain. Now it sought to gain revenge for all the little tomatoes that had died through the years to make catsup and pizza sauce for hungry humans. The picture was rated for general audiences. Mike knew that that meant that theater goers would be able to see the monster tomato kill and eat hundreds of people, but neither tomatoes nor humans would be shown fucking.
Mike stopped for a sandwich and by the time he returned to the hotel room it was nearly dark outside. He settled himself in a chair and snapped on the tape recorder that was attached to the microphone in the next room. He plugged in a set of earphones so that he could hear what was being picked up by the recorder. Nothing yet. He was met with silence.
Setting the earphones down he walked to the window and looked down at the street below. A car stopped at the light near the corner caught his eye and he strained to see the driver more clearly. He had difficulty making out the driver's face, yet he seemed vaguely familiar. Then he had it! It was Wes Underwood. Underwood, the man Elly had spent time with at Marcia Lawton's party. Underwood drove a big late model Cadillac with a short wave antenna protruding from the hood.
What the hell was he doing there, Mike wondered. While he watched, Underwood made no motion to glance at the hotel and when the light changed to green the car sped away. Mike watched it as long as he was able to until Underwood rounded the corner a block away. Mike wondered what it might mean. The man was Farris' accountant. Was it possible that Elly had slipped and Underwood had found out what they were planning. Was he here to warn Farris? It was possible, but it was unlikely. Elly was not that stupid. The hotel was at one of the main intersections of the city. It would not be unreasonable that Wes Underwood should pass by. Perhaps' he was on his way home for dinner after a long day at the office. Mike had no idea where he might live. Try as he might, Mike was unable to rid his mind of a lingering doubt.
He was about to turn from the window when he saw Underwood's car round the block again. This time Underwood looked at the hotel and Mike drew back from the window involuntarily, even though he knew that Underwood would be unable to see him from the street. Of course, it was always possible that Underwood was interested in the hotel, but for a reason entirely different than the one Mike feared. He might just be meeting someone and was driving around the block waiting for him to show up at the entrance. Mike watched the car go around the corner again. He waited patiently for nearly fifteen minutes, but the car did not reappear so Mike finally turned from the window feeling much better.
He returned to the recorder and placed the earphones on his head. He fiddled with the volume control for a minute and then, satisfied, he relaxed back on the bed still wearing the headset. He picked up the newspaper that he bought while he was out.
It was not possible for him to keep his mind on the printed page. He wanted to take the earphones off to be free of the empty static, but he was afraid now of missing Farris' entrance into the room next door. He returned his attention to the paper, but stopped short. He pressed the cups tightly to his ears and raised the volume on the recorder. He could hear distinct noise from the other room. They were there.
Gingerly, as if they could hear him too, Mike sat up on the bed. He adjusted the button that controlled the volume until he could hear their voices clearly.
"Damn, that feels good," he heard a man's voice say. That would be Farris. His voice was deep and full. Mike had never given much thought to what kind of man Farris might be and now he was surprised to find himself suddenly curious to know more about the life and feelings of the men he was about to attack.
Perhaps, Mike mused, it's best this way. If I knew him better I might never be able to go through with it.
A woman's voice interrupted him.
"Take off your jacket, honey and I'll rub your back."
Pause.
"There. Isn't that better?"
The woman had a loud voice that had a grating quality to it that annoyed Mike. She must just be some whore he picked up somewhere, Mike thought. Couldn't a man like Farris do better than that? And with someone like Elly at home.
"Want me to rub anything else?" the woman's voice asked in a teasing way.
"You bet," Farris replied.
There was a sound of a zipper being opened and Mike could imagine her pulling Farris erect cock out into the open.
There was a grunt. It must have been Farris.
"You're big," she said.
"You like it?"
"You know I do."
"Show me."
"How?"
"You know."
"Sure I do," she teased. "But ask me anyway."
"Suck my cock, baby."
There was a long silence and Mike knew why. In spite of himself he felt his own penis swell in his pants. Right next door the woman was eating Farris and it was exciting to Mike as he imagined what they were doing.
Mike looked down at the recorder at his feet and swore. He had turned on the warm up control and he could hear the conversation, but he had forgotten to start the tape moving. He snapped the switch and tape fed over the recording head. It did not make much difference. He had missed very little, but it was something to show him how tense he was and he made careful note to himself to watch out in the next few minutes for other easy errors.
"Okay, let's save that for later," Farris said.
"I'll get drinks."
There was the tinkle of ice and glasses. They must have brought it with them.
"Oh, man. I like that," the girl said. "Don't get drunk. We have things to do."
"Don't worry. This just warms me up."
"I've got the best thing to warm you up," Farris told her.
She laughed. It was high and shrill and oddly hysterical, Mike thought.
There was a rustling of clothes. They must be getting undressed or else are pulling the bedspread off the bed, Mike thought.
"Suck me a little," the girl said.
Farris grunted something that Mike was unable to hear.
"Lick my clit. There, like that. Now stick your tongue inside. Move it around. Ooooooo, yes. Move it around more inside. Uuuh, there ... mmmmm ... more like that. Oh, baby, baby."
For a moment longer there was only silence punctuated by the girl's happy cries.
"Turn around so I can suck your cock."
Mike let them continue their foreplay. They would be just warming up. He kept the earphones on his head and stood up. The cord was long enough so that he could maneuver about the room as much as he needed to. He took the pistol out of the suitcase and stuck it into the waistband of his pants. It bulged uncomfortably and pressed into his abdomen. The camera was ready to go on the dresser. He crossed to the double door and quietly opened his own. It opened noiselessly as he knew it would.
"Don't come yet," the girl said through the headset. "I can taste a little already."
Farris laughed happily.
Mike slipped the key into the door that would admit him to the other room and turned it as quietly as he could. All that was needed now was to turn the handle and walk in. But the moment had to be just right.
Mike dropped the key to the carpeted floor and picked up the camera in one hand.
He listened carefully.
"Oh, Christ," Farris said.
"Put it in, honey. Stick me good."
"Lift up your legs."
"Here. I'll hold it open. You just push in."
"Uuh."
"Aaaaah."
"Goooood."
"Slow and easy does it," the girl said. "There, there. Just like that. Do that again. Move it nice and slow. ... Ahhh ... there. Oh, baby, do me good."
Mike's hand tightened on the door knob. He took off the earphones and tossed them on the bed.
NOW!
His hand turned on the doorknob and the door opened before him.
They were both naked and lying on the rumpled bed. Farris was between the girl's open legs, his prick pistoning in and out of her as fast as he could move it. Mike had an instant to see where their bodies joined. The girl was a redhead and her red cunt hair bristled against the black hair of Allan Farris. Mike had the camera up to his eye and took one shot before the couple even knew that he was in the room. Rapidly, Mike levered the camera for another shot and then another. The flash of light filled the room.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell?" Farris screamed.
"Allan," the girl yelled, "stop him. He's taking our picture."
The action seemed to be incredibly slow before Mike's eyes. He saw Farris and girl locked together on the bed. He had time to take in her tousled hair on the pillow before she yelled and his eyes strayed to where their loins were pressed together.
But Farris was too quick to recover. Suddenly all hell broke loose. Farris leaped from the bed his erect penis thrust before him like a red spear.
"Give me that goddamn thing, you son of a bitch," he roared. "Goddamn it. Give me that camera."
The girl leaped from the bed and ran for the bathroom door. Mike had seen enough and had enough pictures. He turned back to the doorway to get away, but Farris laid a rough hand on his shoulder. His breath was coming in gasps and a look of pure rage was pasted on his face. He swore violently and made a grab for the camera that Mike still held in one hand by the safety strap. Mike pulled free of Farris' hand and swung at the other man's jaw with his fist. Farris turned his side and raised his shoulder and Mike's fist landed harmlessly on the man's upper arm. A sharp jab caught Mike in the chest and he fell back against the wall.
"Fucking punk," Farris yelled. "Who the hell do you think I am?"
The fight had taken Mike by surprise. He had never expected this from the man he knew as Allan Farris. He evaded a furious roundhouse swing that Farris aimed at his head and fumbled at his belt for the pistol that he carried. Farris seemed not to notice the gun that Mike pulled until Mike held it before him and tried to wave him back.
Whether it was out of courage or out of pure rage and lack of caution, Mike did not know, but Farris seemed to ignore the gun and came at Mike again. Mike did not want to shoot. He had enough presence of mind to raise the gun above his head and, as Farris charged, his head lowered, Mike brought the pistol down on the back of the man's skull with a mighty crunch. Farris fell to the floor on his knees, but he still was not out. His fingers clawed at the carpet. He reached out with both his hands and tried to pull Mike down by the legs. Mike raised the gun again and brought it down a second time slamming hard on the back of Farris's head. Blood already flowed and matted the man's hair. This time he slumped to the carpet and lay still.
Breathing raggedly, Mike looked for the girl. She was still in the bathroom. He knelt beside Farris and pressed his hand to the man's chest. He thought he felt a steady, but weak heart beat and was satisfied. The frightened girl would hide in the bathroom for a few more minutes so he had time to get out of there.
He backed through the adjoining doors and closed them, but did not bother to lock them. Hurriedly, he ripped the mike cord out of the recorder and, leaving the cord behind, he threw the camera and recorder into the suitcase. He looked quickly around the room to see if he had forgotten anything. Nothing that could not be left behind. Farris would know soon enough who had done the work, but it was absolutely necessary that he and Elly had time to get everything in order before they approached Farris for the money. It would give them the upper hand if he did not know who he was going to face until the last moment. The room was clean.
It took him only a few minutes to reach his car and to fall behind the steering wheel exhausted. It was only then that the trembling hit him and he shook violently for several minutes. He had no idea that he would get so wound up. It surprised him and frightened him at the same time. Finally, he was able to get the trembling under control, get a grip on himself and he started the car.
CHAPTER 10
There were few cars on the street. Mike drove slowly toward Tom Watters' house where he would develop and print the film. He let the cool evening air blow through the car and it helped to calm him down. It was all over now except for the money. Surely, the toughest part had to be behind him. He tried to concentrate on what the money would buy, but it left a strange stale taste in his mouth like old cigarettes. It displeased him.
It's a natural let down, he chided himself. Don't let it bother you, but a sickness grew in his stomach and the pleasant night air chilled him. He rolled up the car window. Watters' house was dark when Mike arrived. Tom had told him it would be. He let himself into the dark house and made his way to the basement photography lab. He held the camera tightly until he was able to set it down next to the workbench where he would work. He adjusted the lights and, in the darkened room, broke open the camera and removed the film. He prepared it by stripping away the protective backing and ran it through the developing tank, timing the various solutions and the film exposure as best he could.
He could not keep his hands from shaking. He could not afford to botch up the job. There would certainly never be another chance to get the pictures and now here they were in his inexpert hands. Silently, he cursed himself for his nervousness. Removing the long thin strip of film from the developing tank he ran it through a wash of cold water and clipped it to a plastic clothespin suspended from a cord above his head. All of this was done in pitch blackness. Only after the film was attached to the clothespin did he snap on a dim red bulb. like the front door to a whorehouse, he thought.
It would take several minutes for the negative to dry. Mike waited impatiently. Finally, he could wait no longer. He removed the film strip and, with a shears, cut the negative free from each of the others. He inserted the first one into the enlarger as Tom had instructed him to do and made the necessary adjustments and tests for focus and exposure time. With a sheet of eight by ten inch print paper beneath the projected image he turned on the switch. With his heart in his mouth he followed the careful steps to process the print. The picture was slightly overexposed, but it Was fully discernible. He could correct the overexposure on the next print. In the light he studied the results of his handiwork. It was the first picture he had taken before they had seen him. Farris' face was buried in the girl's neck and her head was back against the pillow, her eyes closed and lips pulled taught in a grimace that almost looked like one of pain. Farris' arms supported his body above the girl and his hips were set firmly between her lushly spread legs. His face was concealed, the other shots would show that it was him. Mike put the print in the print dryer while he ran the rest through. He made three copies of each before he was finished and then slipped the negatives into a small yellow envelope that he found on the work bench.
Satisfied, he straightened the mess he had made, packed all his equipment up as best he could and left the lab. He closed up the house behind himself and returned the key to the hiding place where he had found it. He threw the camera and all the pictures into the car and started the motor.
Suddenly a bright light in his eyes brought him up short. He turned to see what it was but the intense light blinded him and he was helpless. He closed his eyes, but the image of the light seemed to burn right through his eyelids.
"Out of the car," he heard a gruff voice say.
Mike's palms were sweaty against the wheel. How did they find him so soon?
Slowly he got out of the car. The light was still on him, but not focused on his face and he was able to see the police car that was standing next to his car on the street. One man remained behind the wheel while another stood waiting for Mike to get out of his car.
"C'mon, move," the voice said impatiently.
"Get that damn light out of my eyes." The light went out.
Mike sighed his relief. He got out of his car and walked toward the police cruiser.
"What is it?" Mike asked trying for all he was worth to sound natural. If they only knew how scared he was they would arrest him on general principles, he was sure.
"Don't worry about it," the man on the street said. "I'm not. But I'm concerned."
"We just want to ask you a couple of questions, that's all," Mike was told. "Questions? About what."
"Just wait. You'll see.
Mike kept silent. Had he already asked to many questions himself? He did not want to over do it. He took note of the fact that there were no guns in sight, but as he noticed this the thought of his own gun in the suitcase made him sweat even more than before. If they go through the car and find that gun, he thought. Oh, Christ. Could they make him show them what he had in the car. He did not think so, but he was not sure and there sure was no time to call a lawyer to find out what his rights were. Mike was pretty sure that the policemen could do with him pretty much as they pleased.
"Can I see your driver's license?"
Mike reached into his pocket, removed his wallet and handed it to the policeman;
"Just remove the license, please. I don't want your wallet."
Mike took the small tag from its place behind the plastic shield and handed it over. The man studied it in. a tiny beam from his pocket flashlight for a moment.
"Reston? That your name."
"Yes." Were they playing a game with him? "You don't live in this neighborhood, Mr. Reston."
"No, I..."
"Would you mind telling me what you are doing here, then?"
Mike allowed himself a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this was not what he thought it was. Maybe they were just checking around. Maybe there had been a burglary or may be someone reported a prowler. Maybe.
"I was over there," Mike said, pointing at Tom Watters' house. "Tom Watters is a friend of mine. I wanted to see him." He hoped that with Tom gone the lie would pass.
The officer looked at the house and took in the darkened windows.
"Looks like nobody home to me," he said. His voice held a clear challenge that Mike had to answer.
"No, that's right. I rang the bell. No answer."
"You're sure that he's a friend of yours?"
Mike nodded.
"Kind of late to be paying a visit, isn't it?" Mike forced a laugh.
"Not for Tom. If he had been home that is. We've both always been night owls."
"Is that right?" The man eyed Mike speculatively.
Again Mike nodded. He felt that he was being carefully appraised and was at a complete loss to do anything to influence the appraisal one way or the other.
"Well, I'll tell you something, Mr. Reston. We've been having a little trouble in this neighborhood recently. You know what I mean?"
"Robbery?"
"More like folks poking their noses in other people's windows. Bedroom windows mainly."
"Oh."
"Now you get it, huh?"
"Yes." Jesus Christ. Window peepers. The irony of it was overwhelming for Mike. After what he just done peeping on Allan Farris he was stopped by the cops because they thought he might be the local peeping torn.
"Anyway, I got your name and address. I'll check with this Tom Watters tomorrow or the next day. If he knows you fine. If not then I guess that I'll have to come looking for you. If you've lied to me it will hurt like hell when I find you. Got it?"
Mike almost choked on his relief.
"Got it," he said. "That sounds like a good idea."
The officer returned his license to him and turned back to the patrol car. He looked back over his shoulder at Mike.
"I think that you had better be on your way now."
Mike returned to his car and while the police car waited he started the motor and drove on down the street.
Of all the goddamn bad luck, he fumed now that his fear was gone. like the hotel maid, it seemed harmless enough, but each slip could become a weak spot. Each unplanned incident held potential danger. Especially in the big game where he now played. There was vicious fighting yet to be done and Allan Farris would not be easily beaten. It was nearly midnight by the time Mike got back to his own apartment. He let himself in and went straight to the kitchen to get a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. He splashed a couple of ounces into a tall glass over an ice cube and tossed it down as fast as he could. The liquor hit his nearly empty stomach like a bomb, but he felt better after a minute and the strain that lined his face seemed to lessen.
He unpacked the suitcase. The gun went into the top drawer of his dresser beneath his stockings and handkerchiefs. He put the folder of photographs into the drawer along with the pistol. The tape recorder and camera were placed on the top shelf in his closet along with several old pairs of shoes and an extra blanket. Mike cast his gaze about anxiously, but he knew that the nervousness was not due to anything that he had left undone. It was just the residue of the tensions that had filled the day.
The phone rang just as he was putting the suitcase back into the storage closet. He ran to it and grabbed it off the hook.
"Mike?" he heard Elly's panicked voice. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for over an hour."
"Where the hell do you think I've been?" His fingers were white as they gripped the phone.
"Mike." Elly's voice was a wail.
Mike tried to steel himself.
"Easy, baby," he said. It's almost over now."
"Haven't you heard?" Her voice was stretched thin.
The tone of her voice made Mike stop what he had been about to say. He was almost afraid to ask.
"Heard what?"
"The radio or anything."
"Elly, for God's sakes, stop fucking around."
There was a sob.
"He's dead, Mike. You killed him." For a moment Mike could not speak. His breath caught in his throat and felt as if he was going to vomit. The bile rose within him.
"Dead?" he croaked at last. "But, but, that's impossible. I mean, I couldn't have killed him. I mean ... I never intended..." .
Elly was crying so hard now that he could hardly hear what she was saying.
" ... doesn't matter what you thought. He's dead. And you did it. Mike?"
Mike did not answer.
"Mike?" she said again. "We have to run. We have to get the hell out of here."
Run? Run where? Why? The questions danced in Mike's mind. Had anyone seen him? He could stay and bluff it out. Nobody even knew he had been in the hotel. Anderson knew, but he could be bought off of, scared off. Mike's brain raced furiously. His thoughts fell together in a jumbled mess. He gritted his teeth. He had to think clearly. The phone burned in his hand and he could hear Elly crying and asking him what they were going to do. He needed time to think, but there was no time. Maybe if they did go away for a while they could buy some added time so they could plan, come up with a good story. Then they could come back and bluff it out. He had to get the time to think. He had to get away for just a short while.
"Listen, Elly," he said.
She would not stop crying and Mike's patience wore thin.
"Elly," he screamed into the phone. "Listen to me."
Her crying ceased, but he could hear the stifled sobs persist. "Get a couple of things together. I'll come by and pick you up and we can get away for a while so we can think this through. Got that?"
He heard her muffled agreement.
"What about the stuff?" she asked. For a moment he did not understand. "Stuff?"
"The pictures and the tape."
"Oh. I have them here. I'll have to get rid of them."
"Please, don't take the time now. And don't bring them with you. If we get caught we can't have that evidence with us. Hide them good in your apartment. Make sure that no one will find them by accident."
Mike nodded in spite of the fact that Elly could not see him. Things were moving too fast. He could not keep up. She was right. They could not afford to be caught with the pictures and tape in their possession.
He hung up the phone and Went into the bedroom for his wallet and jacket. How could the man have died? How? He had felt his heart beating. He was not so old that a blow, even a hard one, on the head would kill. Maybe the strain of the fight and excitement and the blow on the head had been too much for his heart. Maybe he had a heart attack after Mike left him. Was that possible? Was that murder? Mike tried to think about who could connect him with the hotel. The girl? Perhaps. He had the camera to his face. She was on the other side of the bright flash. Mike remembered the police car from only a short time before. The light had blinded him and he was unable to see the men behind it. Could the girl remember him. He doubted it, but he could not be sure. But she had run into the bathroom before the fight even started. She had never even seen him hit Farris.
Damn! Damn! It was too confusing.
What about the maid at the door with the towels? Would she be able to identify him? Another possibility. He could not be sure and the doubt was enough to terrify him. The desk clerk. The elevator operator. They were all unknown quantities.
He hurried from the apartment with a feeling of satisfaction that the camera, photos, and recorder were safe for the time being. He could always get rid of them when he got back. It was better than taking the time for it now. He felt better now that he was in action. It caused his tension to fade somewhat. There was a specific problem and he was searching for a solution.
Elly was waiting outside as he drove up. Her face was strained and she got into the car without saying a word. She carried a small suitcase and her ruffled hair was covered with a wrinkled silk scarf. Mike took note of the fact that she was no longer appealing to him under these circumstances.
"Where are we going?" she asked as soon as he started the car moving.
Mike shrugged his shoulders. He was beat and had difficulty thinking straight.
"Down U.S. 20, I think. There are a lot of little tourist cabins near Rockton. We can get a little out of the way place off the highway."
"Is that wise to stay so close to home?"
"Damn it, Elly," Mike said angrily, his patience at an end, "how the hell should I know if it's wise or not? I never killed a man before."
"I'm sorry, honey," Elly said and reached out to touch his arm.
He pulled away from her. Her touch made him shiver.
"I won't say another word," she promised. Mike drove rapidly, but kept within the speed limits. He had no desire to get stopped for speeding now. He reached for the radio, but Elly stopped him.
"Please. Not now. My head is killing me."
"Maybe the news will have something."
"Please."
Mike was silent. He could wait to hear about Allan Farris' murder. They drove on quietly through the night. There were very few cars on the highway and Mike let the speed creep up slightly. The stars sparkled brightly in the sky and the quiet hum of the motor was all that broke the night silence.
Finally Mike said, "You really didn't have to come. I shouldn't have brought you. If we get caught it will look worse this way."
Elly touched his arm again and this time he did not pull away.
"I want to be with you darling. I get my strength from you."
Mike's uneasiness began to grow again. Something nagged at him, but he was unable to pin it down. Something. Something he wanted to ask Elly. Then he remembered.
"How did you hear about it, Elly?" he asked.
"What?" Elly asked sleepily. "I'm sorry, darling, I didn't hear you. I must have dozed off."
"About Allan. How did you hear? Did the police call?"
She seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Didn't I tell you."
"No. You didn't."
"Wes Underwood called me. Allan must have had his number in his wallet or something. He was the one the police called first. Then he called me."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing much. I was shocked. I didn't have to pretend that."
"Can't you remember what you said to him?"
"Of course not. But I was careful. He knew that Allan and I were not getting along. I did not have to pretend any great concern for Allan."
"What did you tell him you were going to do?"
"He offered to send someone over to take care of me, but I said I could get along all right by myself. I went nearly crazy waiting for you to get home."
Mike continued to try to fit the pieces together. He did not like the figure of West Underwood constantly cropping up in the picture. That Mike had seen him outside the hotel added to the mystery and gave Mike an uneasy feeling about it. They passed through several sleeping towns without even slowing down. At last, on the outskirts of a slightly larger town, Mike slowed and began to scan the side of the highway for an appropriate place to stop. He pulled off the road next to a sign that advertised tourist cabins at family rates. He wanted a place as inconspicuous as possible.
The night clerk who turned out to be an old man in a night shirt gave him a key to a cabin well off the highway. The old man made no pains to conceal the fact that he was not pleased at being awakened from his night's sleep. Mike registered for a cabin as Mr. and Mrs. Black from Des Moines, Iowa.
Mike returned to the car and drove it through deep ruts to the cabin. It was difficult to see the cabin numbers in the dark, but he found it at last. After helping Elly into the cabin with the suitcase, he parked the car behind the cabin where it would not be visible from the highway.
As he closed the cabin door behind him Mike was suddenly aware of how close to exhaustion he really was. Elly took her case into the bathroom with her and closed the door. He heard the water running. While she was gone he undressed and got under the sheet. He was sitting on the bed waiting for her when she rturned. She wore a short nightgown and her long legs and full breasts looked appealing to him once again.
"Your turn."
"Too tired."
"Let me."
Elly returned to the bathroom and emerged in a moment with a wash cloth and towel. She gently washed the sweat and grime from his face and hands and towled him dry.
"Feel better?"
"Much."
He knew that Elly was ready, but he was too tired. She smiled at him. "Too tired?"
Mike smiled, but he nodded. "Let me do you then."
"You don't have to," he told her. "I'm not even sure that I can get it up."
"Let that be my problem."
With a deft movement Elly pulled the nightgown over her head. She knelt on the bed next to him and let him look at her naked body for a moment. Her breasts were full with the nipples little hard peaks. Her bushy cunt hair formed a little beard at the base of her belly and disappeared between her legs.
Mike had a vague feeling of discomfort. He had killed this woman's husband and here she was offering her body to him. Was it in payment?
"I've got something for you," she said.
"I know."
"I mean something else."
She swung her legs off the bed giving Mike a fleeting glimpse of her pink slit. She crossed to her little suitcase and removed a flat flask from it.
"What is it?"
"I had a chance to pack it. I thought we might need it. Take a sip. It will relax you."
Mike grinned weakly.
"I don't need it. I'm half dead already."
"Just a sip," Elly urged. "Let it help you enjoy what I'm going to do to you."
Mike put the flask to his lips and took a large swallow. He made a wry face.
"It's bitter," he said. "What is it?"
Elly took the flask from him.
"You'll have to learn to cultivate more expensive tastes, darling."
"That one I can do without."
"You just lay back now and relax. Don't worry about me. Take your pleasure and drift off to sleep."
"Elly." It was a weak protest.
"Mike," she said softly. "We can forget for a while. Look at me."
Her hands crept up her sides and cupped the firm mounds of her breasts. Lightly she plucked at the swelling nipples.
"Do you still think I'm lovely, Mike?"
"You're as lovely as ever, Elly."
Her fingers continued to dance over her pink nipples.
"Just lay back and relax," she said, her voice soothing.
With a quick motion she pulled the sheet from Mike and left him naked and exposed. He felt himself responding.
Her fingers were feathers as she ran them lightly over his body. She paused to watch as his penis began to fill with blood and to grow in size. Mike closed his eyes. Elly bent over and kissed his chest while her hands caressed his body.
"There now," she murmured as her touch brought more life to his hardening cock. In a moment it stood rigid and thick.
Gently her lips moved over the thick column of flesh. She nipped it with her teeth and rubbed it with the rough surface of her tongue. Her hands were not idle. She caressed his balls and wormed one finger down between Mike's legs to tickle at his ass-hole.
"I love to suck you darling," she managed to whisper as her lips opened to receive the head of his tool. Slowly she fitted her open mouth over the dark head of the turgid organ. Her hand gripped the staff and chaffed it up and down. She allowed it to enter as far into her mouth as it would go.
For only a moment she relinquished her hold with her mouth.
"Come, baby. Come in my mouth."
Then she recaptured the giant cock and began to suck, her cheeks moving in and out with the effort.
Mike could feel himself approach his orgasm. Elly's hot wet tongue lashed his erect penis. Her lips pulled at it. Her teeth scraped it lightly. Her mouth bobbed up and down.
He opened his eyes briefly to see what she was doing. Her ass was toward him, her thighs parted. Between the cheeks of her rear end he could see her blonde-haired pussy with the pink lips parted slightly.
Then he closed his eyes again and gave himself up to the sensation. He knew that he was about to come. Elly had one hand rubbing his balls and the other tickling his ass. Her mouth sucked the life from his prick. He could hold out no longer. With a deep moan he came shooting heavy jets of sperm into the lovely blonde's mouth. It seemed as if he could not stop coming.
Elly swallowed it all. Her tongue licked his cock clean. With strong suction she drained every last drop of come from him. Even after his prick softened and went limp in her mouth she did not give it up.
Finally she released him and turned around. She fixed the sheet gently around him and touched his face softly.
"Sleep now," she said. "Sleep."
That was the last Mike heard as he felt the darkness overwhelm him and in seconds he was sound asleep.
CHAPTER 11
Mike awoke slowly. He fought his way up through a thickness of heavy cotton. Finally awake, he lay with his eyes closed for several minutes. He tried to get oriented, and when finally he opened his eyes, he was surprised and it took him several more minutes to remember where he was and why he was there. As he remembered he sat up swiftly in the bed. The room felt hot. Mike dripped with perspiration.
He turned to look at Elly and was startled to see that the girl was not in the bed beside him. Nervously he looked around the room. The bathroom door caught his eye and he saw that it was wide open. She wasn't in there and there was nowhere else in the small room to hide. The little kitchenette was on the other side of a small room divider, but he saw no indication of her in the kitchen. Curiosity mixed with apprehension inside of him. He swung out of bed and got to his feet. Unaccountably, his head pounded and he winced, bringing his hand up to rub at his forehead. He noted his watch as it rested on the beside table. It was nearly ten o'clock. His lips pursed in a soundless whistle. He seldom slept that late in his entire life and he was faintly surprised that he could sleep that well with the actions of the past evening behind him. He wiped beads of moisture from his forehead and crossed the room to open the window.
But where the hell was Elly? Ignoring the pain in his head he quickly pulled on his clothes and trudged to the open door of the cottage. He peered out into the bright sunlight and had to squint against the strong morning light. The shock of the sunlight increased the pounding in his head. Shielding his eyes with his hand, Mike looked down the long driveway toward the road and was relieved to see Elly coming toward him with a large bag in her arms. He felt the mad trip hammer in his head lessen its beat somewhat. When she got closer and could see the doorway Elly raised one arm to wave and the bag she carried tumbled from her grasp. Mike relaxed a little. As he ran forward to help, he saw that she had a large quantity of food in the bag.
"I thought I'd get some groceries while you slept," she said.
Mike bent down to help her with the spilled contents of the sack. He was pleased to note that her voice was pleasant. Friction between them now could be dangerous.
"I wondered what had happened to you," Mike admitted.
He gathered together the items that had spilled and bundled them in his arms. Elly managed the rest and they returned to the cottage.
They deposited the groceries in the small kitchen.
"I'm surprised that you thought of food so soon," Mike told her.
"No need to go hungry after all," Elly said brightly. She busied herself with the preparation of something to eat.
"I'm not really hungry."
"I should think you would be. When was the last time you ate?"
"I'm sure I should be," Mike said tolerating Elly's seeming innocence, "but after last night it's hard to get excited about food. Besides, I have a rotten headache."
"You'll feel better after you eat something."
Mike chose not to reply. There was no sense in creating anything to argue about now. He watched in amazement as Elly worked in the kitchen. They were both running from the police because he had killed her husband the night before and she was now preparing his breakfast as if this were the first morning of their honeymoon. But he felt better now, only a faint trace of the headache remained. It would be over soon.
They would make their plans this morning and head back for the city as soon as they could. He continued to watch as Elly broke several eggs into a frying pan that the management had provided. He wished that he had a newspaper to read. He glanced around the cabin, but could not locate a radio. He was anxious to hear about what was going on back in the city. Farris's murder would have raised a big stir. The thought occurred to him that Farris might not even be dead. Perhaps their flight had been premature. He jumped at the thought. Could Elly and Underwood have been mistaken? The momentary elation faded. Hardly. The police had been there. They would have made sure.
"Once over?" Elly asked.
"Huh?" Mike was lost in his own thoughts.
"Your eggs, silly."
"Oh. Right," Mike replied. "You know we can't sit around here all day like this as if nothing has happened."
"But what can we do?"
She set a plate of eggs in front of him.
Mike ignored his breakfast.
"All we really need is a good story for the police. Then we go back to town. We don't have to worry about being together. I don't mind being known as your lover as long as no one thinks I also killed your husband. If we can provide each other with an alibi and if no one can directly tie me to the hotel when Allan was killed all we have to do is wait it out. It won't be fun. They will come down on us hard. We will be prime suspects. But they won't be able to prove anything. And when it dies down we have the money. And..." Mike stopped. Suddenly it occurred to him that the half million was now nearly ten million dollars. Elly would get it all. If, he reminded himself, she was not tied to the murder..
Elly nodded as if she was able to read his thoughts.
"That's right darling," she said. "Now I get it all." Her voice was strange. It was distant, vaguely taunting.
Suddenly Mike was wary of the look in her eyes.
"If I'm not tied to you darling. If they never think that I had anything to do with Allan's death all of that lovely ten million dollars is mine." She smiled at Mike, but there was no warmth in her smile. Her face was a death mask.
The headache that had lessened was back now in full force pounding at the inside of his head. He had no appetite for the eggs and pushed them away from in front of him.
He rose to his feet.
"I'm going out for a paper," he said.
Elly's voice was oddly soft when she responded.
"That's not necessary, darling. I already got one. It's on the bottom of the grocery bag."
Mike threw her a look of surprise.
"Damn," he muttered. "Why the hell didn't you say so."
Hastily he grabbed the bag. The paper tore as he pulled it from beneath the pile of cans that were piled on top of it. His fingers shook. Elly got up from the table and busied herself with the contents of her suitcase.
Mike spread the torn paper on the table before him. The morning edition had nothing about Farris on the front page and he turned to the second main page.
The bold headline jumped out at him and it seemed as if his heart stopped beating for a moment. He had difficulty catching his breath. For a long moment he could not think. His brain just refused to function. Dimly he was aware of the sweat as it broke out on his body even though the room was now cool.
Finally, he was able to read the headline again, scarcely allowing himself to believe what he read.
It read: MILLIONAIRE ALLAN FARRIS FOUND SHOT TO DEATH IN DOWNTOWN HOTEL
It took several more minutes for the full significance to sink in. For a moment Mike felt elated. One word captured his attention. Farris had been shot. All that Mike had done to the man was to strike him on the head with the barrel of the pistol. But as quickly as the elation came it vanished and in its place came the icy finger of fear. Someone else had killed Farris. And whoever it was was going to be very happy to let Mike take the full credit for the murder. And in a painful moment Mike now knew that there was much more going on than he was aware of. This was not a spur of the moment thing that he had stumbled on. He had been set up.
A flash of anger and excitement struck him as he suddenly had vivid memory of the car with the short wave antenna jutting out from under the hood. Wes Underwood.
Mike looked up at Elly. She had turned from her suitcase and facing him. His headache was causing a faint buzzing in his head and his. eyes would not focus correctly. He shook his head and his eyes cleared, but his head still pounded.
"Elly," he said, his voice weak and trembling as he got a better grip on himself. "Elly, read the paper."
He held it out to her, but she made no move to take it.
"I've read it. I read it while I had coffee in a little shop down the road."
"But why didn't you tell me. It says that Allan was shot. I didn't shoot my pistol."
"I know that," Elly said flatly. "But the police don't, do they?"
Mike gagged. A wave of nausea passed through his body. The goddamn headache. His senses were muddled.
His thinking was slow and confused. This made no sense.
"I didn't kill Allan," Mike said, his voice shrill.
"Of course not, darling." Elly smiled. "Can you guess who did?"
"Elly..." Mike gasped and started to his feet.
"Sit still," Elly commanded sharply and for the first time Mike was suddenly and painfully aware of the small pistol that she held clenched in her small fist.
"Sit down," she said again.
Mike returned to his chair unsteadily. He stared at her for a moment and slowly nodded his head. She just sat there with the pistol trained on his chest. She held it steady with small barrel opening never wavering for an instant.
And finally it all became clear to Mike. Too late, much too late. But somehow now that things were out in the open he began to feel better. The newspaper headline had unnerved him. It was the final shot that had brought him to his knees. For a moment his will had crumbled. His nervous system had ceased to function until he could get back to a more familiar orientation. Now as Mike sat opposite Elly and they stared at each other he struggled to keep the same bewildered look on his face so that she would feel more at ease while his mind raced with a thousand possibilities.
Gone now was the biggest mystery of all. Gone was the wonderment at why Elly had chosen him to share the money. She had chosen him, not to share, but because he would make a good patsy. Silently he cursed himself for his foolishness, foolishness that now might cost him his life.
He needed time desperately.
"Are you going to shoot me?" he asked.
The cold smile never wavered from Elly's lips.
"Of course," she said, "but not now. We have to wait for someone else first."
"Wes Underwood," Mike said flatly.
"My but you're bright this morning, darling."
"And my headache. What did you slip me? I never slept that late in my life no matter what time I went to bed."
"Don't worry about what it was. Just remember that if I had used a larger dose you never would have awakened at all."
Mike hesitated. What Elly said was true. She could have killed him easily that way. It meant that they wanted him alive for a while yet. He still had some time.
"Christ," Mike said. "What you did to me last night. And you knew all along that you would kill me today."
Elly smiled.
"Don't be surprised. I told you a lot of lies, but I never lied about one thing. I always loved that big cock of yours. I'd let you stick it in me right now if I thought I could let you get that close to me."
"Bitch."
"You can do better than that."
Mike saw that Elly was enjoying his misery and refused to let her have any more of it. He changed the subject. "Who actually shot Allan?"
"I can't see that it will hurt to tell you. Wes did it. But I would have shot that bastard if I could have arranged it. So don't get any ideas. Your value as a stud is zero at this point and if you move at all I'll shoot you."
Mike knew that she told the truth. Even if he had not come to know her well over the past few months, the cold hard smile let him know that she was very capable of shooting him. She was cunning, cruel and self reliant.
"Don't forget," she said, "you're an escaped killer."
For several minutes they were silent. Mike tried to think. He had to get her to talk. It was the only way he would be able to find a weak spot that he could play on.
"Naturally, you had it all planned from the start," he said.
"Did you really think that I would be satisfied with a lousy quarter of a million dollars when I could get it all?" Elly asked.
"Not you."
"Oh, you were such a fool. What did you want the money for? To impress that little cunt that lives next door to you. Don't be so surprised. I know all about you. You should have been half so careful."
"How will Underwood know where we are?"
"I called him when I went out for the groceries. All of the rest of it was just to kill time. He'll be here soon. It's really the simplest thing. You killed poor dear Allan. The pictures and tape will be found and there are several people who will identify you as the man who had the room next to Allan's. Wes saw to that. Your friend will have to talk about you using his dark room. He can't protect you if he thinks you have killed someone." She paused and shrugged her shoulders. "It will look like blackmail and then murder when something went wrong. Which it was in a way, wasn't it?"
"Why did you come with me?"
Elly made a mock show of surprise.
"Don't you remember? You forced me to go with you. I'm your hostage. Oh, darling. You are naive, aren't you?"
Her mocking laughter chilled Mike.
Elly regarded him quizzically for a moment.
"You know," she said, "I could probably get a reward just for killing you now." She laughed a high shrill false laugh and Mike was reminded of the tramp that had been with Farris the night before.
"Someone could have seen Underwood."
Elly shook her head and her blonde curls swung freely in the air.
"Don't worry about that. It's our problem."
For a moment there was silence. It stretched out for several minutes.
"Don't you want to hear the rest?" Elly asked.
"If you want to tell me."
"It's your life, darling."
"I'm listening."
"This is what I will tell the police. I broke away from you and called Wes. I was so nervous I couldn't think straight. Wes, of course, started right down here, and on the way called the police. But the police will be just a little bit too late. Wes will get here before they do. And this gun," she hefted the gun in her hand, "is really yours. Well, not yours, but it is the one that killed Allan. I took it from you and shot you. It really is too bad."
Her laugh filled him with fear.
Suddenly she stopped laughing and turned her head slightly, but still kept her eyes on Mike. Mike held his breath. He heard the sound of a car on the driveway outside and knew that as soon as Underwood walked in through the cabin door he was as good as dead. Mike's mind raced furiously looking for an opening, any opening, he could use.
"Maybe the police beat him here" he said. "Then what will you do?"
Mike saw that he had given Elly an idea. Her tongue licked nervously at her red lips. Slowly she got up from the chair and backed toward the door. She paused near the curtained window.
"Don't move," she said. Her hand shook slightly. It was the first sign Mike had seen that the tension was getting to her too. It wouldn't take much to get her to pull the trigger.
The gun remained pointed at him. Elly edged closer to the window. For a split second she had to turn to look out of the window. Her eyes left him for an instant and in that instant Mike was on his feet. He gripped the heavy plate that held his uneaten eggs and whipped it at her face. Mike saw the shadow of panic in her eyes as she turned back to face him. Her free hand came up to protect her face and Mike crouched low and dove at her feet. She fired, but the shot went over his head.
Mike's shoulder hit Elly across the legs and she fell to the floor. He heard her groan as he hit her. The gun tumbled from her hand.
Mike heard the sound of footsteps on the path outside the door. He had to assume it would be Underwood. The man would have a gun of his own and Mike knew he had to be free by the time the other man opened the door.
Elly beat at Mike's head and shoulders with her closed fists, but the blows fell almost painlessly. His rage gave Mike a towering strength. He drew back his hand and brought his fist down firmly on the back of the woman's head. She fell softly, with a sigh, back onto the floor.
Mike dove for the gun on the floor just as the cabin door opened and Wes Underwood looked in. The shot that Elly had fired had alerted him. He held a large revolver in his right hand and began to bring it up when he saw Mike lying on the floor. The gun in Underwood's hand barked loudly in the closed room and Mike felt a stitch of pain and fire along his left side. The warm blood trickled down his ribs.
In his hand he grasped the gun that Elly had dropped, and without aiming, fired. The shot went wild, but Underwood had been surprised, too. He had not expected to see Mike with a gun of his own. His hesitation gave Mike a second chance. Before Underwood could collect his wits to fire again, Mike had time to take aim at the bulk of the man in the doorway and fire two more shots.
The first slug struck Underwood in the chest and the second opened a bloody hole in his throat. For an instant there was a look of incredible disbelief on his face and then his eyes went blank, the gun clattered to the floor and Underwood fell on his face over the unconscious Elly.
The pain began to build fiercely in his side as Mike struggled to his feet. He looked at the two bodies on the floor. He knelt over Elly and felt for her pulse. She was only out cold. Underwood was dead. There was no reason to doubt that. Pain spread throughout Mike's body. He made his way to the bed and sank down.
Someone would have heard the shots and the police were already on their way if what Elly had said was true. His side hurt like hell, but Mike knew that he could get away if he tried. The wound was painful, but did not seem to be too deep. He debated running. He thought about all the evidence against him and what kind of chance he had for making the police believe him.
Elly was alive and would certainly try to convince them that Mike was the killer. Her life depended on that.
But ... and there was a big, but. They had counted on Mike being dead. There had to be a loophole in their plans now that he was alive and could talk, now that he could defend himself. What about Underwood? Were there enough holes in Elly's story so that as long as Mike was alive he could tear it apart?
Damn. They had counted on his death. Mike had to chance it. Elly couldn't pull it off with him alive. Could she?
He pulled the sheet against the wound in his side. In the distance he could hear the sound of police sirens. They would be here soon.
On the floor Elly moaned. Mike knew that she would fight it to the end. She would never give up.
He had only brief moments left to decide what to do. He thought about what he would have to give up if he ran. About Sandy.
And he knew that he would stay and rely on the truth. It would be rough and if he lost he stood a damn good chance of losing his life. The sirens were louder now. Mike wondered how Sandy would feel. Would she give a damn about him. Of that he was the most sure.
He could hear the cars enter the parking lot outside the cabin. If he ran he would have nothing and someday they would find him. If he stayed he stood a chance of winning and when it was over there was Sandy and that would make everything all right again.
He lay back on the bed and waited. There were muffled shouts outside the cabin. Mike let the gun fall to the floor and lay waiting for the police to enter and find him.
