This book is fiction, or so the author states. The persons described within the covers of the novel and their exploits have never existed, and any counterpart to persons living or dead or events of the past, present, or future is, as we the publishers say, purely coincidental.
And yet it is not fiction. It speaks of today's headlines, reports on the most perplexing and disturbing national issue of the times in which we live, and faithfully sculptures in print the true story of what it is like to grow up in today's America. In this sense, this brilliant sociological study is real, as real as any textbook or nonfiction history. It is real for it is a composite of many persons and many events, carefully pieced together in order to give in one startlingly dramatic lesson the true picture of present day teenagers.
The author could have done this with a number of case histories. "Robert S." or "Susan T." or "Mike F." He didn't, for pure realism would have not presented the inner forces at work, would have been a blind colorless chronology without giving the meaning and scope behind the printed letters, behind the adolescent urge of rebellion. So with masterful and brilliant strokes, the author, Winston McElroy has portrayed the different heartbreaking cases as the fictional exploits of one sadly misunderstood teenager and her friends.
Moreover, he decided to tackle this moral and social problem from the standpoint of a girl rather than a boy, yet a girl of this tender age is more subtle and not as clearly etched as a boy is apt to be, and therefore her case is more complex to understand. It is more difficult to write, and we, the publishers, feel extremely fortunate in being able to present what we consider to be one of the most explosive and finely wrought and truly deep accounts of delinquency since Evan Hunter's epic, The Blackboard Jungle. We feel that you, the reader, will do as we did upon reading the Gang Initiation; to wit, you will pause to contemplate the book and its history and think about the characters and what could have been done to change their fate. The problems presented are for us all to see and recognize and understand-and perchance to solve. For the story of Mandy Simpson is, as we said, fiction on one hand but also pathetically sad, shocking and true.
The real horror of this story is not some of its more sordid accounts of what may be happening behind closed doors in your very community, but the fact that Mandy Simpson is not a unique case. She was not abnormal, but merely a child. A girl young in faith and experience and old in bitterness and lack of hope. The author has spent considerable time mingling with the thousands who made up the character of Mandy, finding her in part on the beach, in all sorts of homes, in every level of development and age. They had in common the traits he has placed in Miss Simpson: a worship of cynicism, a scoffing at decency and honesty, and a blindness for anything not of gilt and facadic decoration.
The author says, in effect, that there is no hope for those like Mandy Simpson. It is too late, and we, as their parents and guardians, have failed them. Perhaps so; that is one question which you, the reader must judge for yourself. But as you read avidly this chronically of youth in the Seventies, perhaps you will become disturbed and aroused, and perhaps if enough good citizens become disturbed and aroused, then the next generation, the generation as yet unborn, will have hope. Perhaps it isn't too late.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER 1
The sun shown so brightly that it seemed as though there was a white hole in the blue fabric of sky. It bathed the blue-green waters of the Pacific with a sparkling iridescence and glinted off the white stucco buildings along the pier and touched everything and everybody with its lance-like beams. It was a hot July weekday. Damned hot.
The roads around the beach area were clogged with summer vacationers, the narrow secondaries and the six-lane freeways clogged with overloaded cars and oversized campers, and the motels cluttered with sand pails and wet bathing suits, and the camping sites like disturbed anthills. The crowds and traffic jams were barely offset by the majestic sweep of coast, of the inlets and bays and wild cliffs and fierce undergrowth of Southern California.
The vacationer was both the curse and the salvation for the area, for while the town of Surfside and the other small towns dotting the coast made their money off of them, the natives all peered malevolently at the brightly clad itinerants and cursed them as stupid seagulls. It was the seagull tourist who bought the rubbishy mementoes and kept the ice-cream industry in business, it was he who parked his car and bought his windshield stickers and postcards and scattered the candy wrappings, who lived on hamburgers and cokes and beer, and invaded the bars with their imitation stone and draped fishing nets.
On the Surfside pier, which had once been a functional jetty for fishing smacks, families that were dreary at home were only a little less dreary as they shuffled along the al fresco amusement arcade which stuck out into the ocean. They could feel the waves without being seasick, go in the surf without getting wet, enjoy other bogus appeals like sailor hats and palatial architecture. They could Try Their Skill, or see What The Maid Saw, fish from the bleak metal of the lower deck, dance, eat, or just walk up and down looking at the souvenirs. They could go down and join the multitude on the gritty shore, bask in the sun and cool off in the breakers.
On the pier, two girls strolled along, heading for the penny arcade. They had gotten off the Westwood bus ten minutes previously, joining the bedlam of vacationers with undisguised excitement, for both were young enough to enjoy the vicarious thrill of strangers all around them ... as if perhaps today something exciting might happen to them, might make one of those Hollywood romances actually come true. They passed the fortune tellers and ducked into the fetid shadows of the arcade.
Mandy Simpson said, "I've got three dollars, and that's it. And I got to save enough to eat on and get a locker and get the bus home, don't forget." She dug in her red strap purse and fingered the bills carefully. "Christ, I'm sick of being broke all the time."
Mandy was a natural blonde, a golden wheat color which she usually wore long and flowing. But today her hair was in a pony tail, tied with a ribbon which matched the color of her purse. She could wear it well this way, because she had a slender throat and nicely shaped ears. Her eyes were dark brown, almost like the eyes of a Mexican girl, her nose was a little thin but not bony, and her lips were well formed and definite, shaped like bows, and the pale lipstick emphasized their young sensuality. She had the deep tan of a native-Westwood being a residential suburb of Surfside-and she knew she looked good in her bathing suit. The bright yellow highlighted her tan, and although her legs were not as full as she would have liked them, her hips and thighs were those of a woman, and her breasts were solid and firm, able to stand up with jutting nipples when she dared to wear the no-bra fashions. Not bad, not bad at all for a fifteen-year-old.
In her purse were the twin bands of her yellow bikini. At the moment she was wearing a thin rayon blouse and Levi's which were "ripped off' above the knee. Her legs were bare and she had her feet in a pair of rubber thongies. She had come to swim, though there was a good chance that she'd never get in the water and instead simply lie out on the sand and improve her tan. She got a thrill out of that, out of just lying there, her whole body motionless as though in mute offering, her legs just slightly parted to accentuate the triangle of her budding sex, her back curved imperceptibly so that her breasts jutted against the flimsy band of her top. She knew that the boys stared at her, roved their eyes over her nubile flesh and wished it was their hands instead. She knew and reveled in it.
But her best friend, her schoolmate and confidante, wanted to play the pin-balls and the other arcade games for a while first. Liz Bradley was an inch smaller than Mandy, but made up for that inch across the breasts, hips, and seat. She would become in later years a voluptuous woman, yet even at fifteen she was a bold knockout in anything she wore. She wasn't fat; just overly proportioned in the parts which traditionally turn men on. As a result, few wives called Liz to baby-sit, a mixture of jealousy and fear. Liz wore her black hair short and parted it on the left side to better her profile, and although her outfit was one-piece, a vertically striped lastex which did much to give her height and lessen the impact of her lush figure. Physically a woman, she was still shy with her figure with the ill ease and embarrassment of a teenager.
"I'll lend you some," Liz offered. "Mother gave me five this morning."
"I wish I had a mother like yours," Mandy said glumly. "Mine hollered and swore at me for not doing the dishes last night. And after that she didn't want me to go with you here."
"Same old routine, huh?"
"Yeah." Mandy sighed. "She and her boyfriend had another fight. That always makes it a rough day around the house."
"Did he hit her like the last time?"
"Naw, but I wish he had. Would have made things a little quieter maybe."
"Mandy!"
"Well, I mean it. You'd think my mother was a slave driver the way she carried on this morning. Afraid her darling angel is going to turn out like her, I bet."
The two girls changed some of their money at the booth, and then started spending it in the little slots. Mandy played the machines listlessly, and Liz beat her at most of the games. After Liz beat her at Steamshovel-the object of which is to get the glass encased little toys to pick up marbles from the sand with their scoops and deposit the marbles in a dish-they had the Old Gypsy tell their fortunes for a penny each. The creaky metal figure took her mechanical hand and passed it over the now faded and dim crystal ball and then slipped cardboard tickets down the slot. When the cards appeared on the outside of the machine, Liz read hers and laughed.
"Says I'm going to take a trip," she said. "I know where, too. Back to Westwood."
Mandy read hers. "A tall dark stranger will come into your life."
"Hey, that must mean me," came a voice behind her, and Mandy turned, startled. She was almost on top of the tall boy who stood looking down at her, and for a moment she was frightened.
"Oh!" she gulped.
"I'm the tall, dark stranger, see? Six foot, black hair-what the hell, what more do you want?" He was grinning, but it was a friendly smile, and even though Mandy knew that he was trying to pick her up, she couldn't help laughing.
"My name's Tony Desmond," the boy said, not allowing the patter to slow down now that her attention was gotten. "My friend, Gil, is over at the stand getting some cokes-" He waved vaguely in the direction of the refreshment stand, and Mandy couldn't pick out his friend from the clot of people milling around it. "And we thought you might like one because it's so hot."
Mandy looked at Liz, and Liz looked back at Mandy. They shrugged, their glances a silent "why not?" Mandy turned back to her new friend. She didn't like the idea of being picked up, at least not in public and so easily, for it gave a girl a bad reputation, but she liked what she saw in Tony, and as the cokes were already being bought, it couldn't hurt to string along. At least for the coke. They could ditch the boys later if they wanted to. They'd done that before when stuck with a couple of clods.
But Mandy didn't think that Tony would turn out to be a clod. Not by his smooth, fast approach. And certainly not by his looks. He was eighteen or nineteen, but Mandy guessed he wasn't over twenty-one yet. He certainly was tall, and his long, collar-length hair was black enough, just like the card said. He was slim waisted, with shoulders and arms that bulged with muscle. His face was pleasant and average if a little round, an ordinary face which didn't seem mean or dirty. His clothes were cut from the mold: green short-sleeved sports shirt, faded Levi's tight across the buttocks, wide black leather belt with simple buckle, and scuffed loafers.
"We saw you playing the machines, see, and thought you were some girls we knew from Tucker."
"Sure you did," Liz said, knowing it was a line.
Tony looked wide-eyed and innocent. "No! Honest!" But it was obviously just an excuse of getting around the "haven't-I-met-you-some-place-before" introduction. He laughed, and went on. "Well, we did. But never mind; I'm glad we were wrong. What's your names?"
Mandy and Liz introduced themselves, and then Mandy said, "Were you at any of the games?" She was referring to the games the Westwood High School played against Tucker High, for Tucker was a town a little larger than Surfside about ten miles inland.
"We did when we went to Tucker," Tony explained. "But we were both at USC last year. I'm taking up biology, and Gil is interested in business."
They talked about the season, and how well some of the players Tony remembered as juniors and sophomores were doing. Then Tony's friend Gil appeared, bearing four cups of coke awkwardly, and Liz had to rescue one of them just before it fell. Gil St. John was a little shorter than Tony, but heavier and broader, and Mandy knew instinctively as all girls know about such things that if she and Liz allowed the boys to pick them up, Mandy would be with Tony and Liz with Gil. Liz and Gil sort of moved a little closer together, and she asked him:
"Do you know a boy by the name of Felix Alvaro at USC?"
Gil shook his head. "No. Do you, Tony?"
Tony frowned. "Nope. Why?"
"Old boyfriend of hers," Mandy answered, seeing how Liz suddenly gulped at her drink. Mandy laughed, and the boys looked a little puzzled. They had no way of knowing that it was Felix who had robbed Liz of her virginity.
Well, robbed was a strong word for what happened. As Liz confided in Mandy later, she had met Felix at a party. He was going to USC that next year, which would have put him in the same freshman category with Tony and Gil. Although USC is large and it wasn't surprising that they wouldn't know of him. Felix had a bottle in his car and had given Liz a few drinks which had made her feel really good and high and so she barely noticed that he had taken all her clothes off and was pressing something very long and hard into her. She knew what it was, of course, for she had taken sex education courses and seen her father naked, once even with an erection, but as she told Mandy, "I really didn't enjoy it like I thought I would. It's supposed to get better as you go along, but I don't know if I will again." But Mandy knew Liz had allowed it a couple of times since, and she suspected that her friend had done it more than that.
Mandy was still a virgin, at least technically. She had allowed one boyfriend to rub her between the legs, rub her and put his middle finger up her vagina. It had felt good, but she knew what Liz had meant when she had told her that it wasn't much. But for some reason, as she looked up at Tony, she felt a strange tingling in her stomach. Maybe, just maybe this time it would be different. She might even have Tony for a boyfriend for a month! That would be about right; a month. That would make it three boyfriends for the summer vacation, the perfect number. She would still have variety and not get too tied down, and yet not so many that her reputation would be hurt once she was back in school. She'd have to wait and see, that was all.
The four of them talked on as Mandy thought of these things, and pretty soon they were almost like old friends, laughing at old gags like about the couple who wanted to fly united but the stewardess wouldn't allow them to. They had another round of cokes, and played a couple more of the games, and this time Mandy enjoyed them. Could it be the nearness of Tony, the way he was always beside her, talking to her as though there was nobody else around, as if the pier was deserted?
"Let's go get some wet stuff," Gil suddenly said. "I'm hotter than hell."
Mandy looked out at the blue expanse of water with the froth of rising waves as they came to shore and broke. "Sounds great!" she said. "We've got to change, though." She looked at Liz. "C'mon, Liz. Let's meet them down on the beach."
"That's fine with us. We've got our suits on underneath, and we'll go in the John," Tony said.
Liz and she went to the locker attendant, who rented them a cubicle under the pier for fifty cents each. Then they half walked, half ran down the pier to the steps, and down the steps to the sand and the lockers. Hurriedly they undressed in the privacy of the cubicle. Mandy always felt self-conscious stripping completely with all the chatter and noise of the strangers outside, even though she knew that the door was locked and she was safe. She wasn't embarrassed with Liz, and in fact the two girls knew each other's bodies very well, They had grown up together, their parents living for many years in the same block of Westwood, and there had been the normal growing-up period when the two girls had sexually explored each other.
Mandy paused to stare at the naked form of his girl friend. "You look as though you've lost some weight," she remarked.
"I wish," Liz said ruefully, cupping her full breasts and looking down at her stomach. "Sometimes I think I've got too much. I wish I could give you a couple of inches."
Mandy laughed and looked at her own breasts. They were nicely shaped, without the sag of heaviness nor the slope of small ones. The nipples and large red areolae were straight ahead like pointers. "Better give them to Maggie Campbell. She could use them more than me."
The girls giggled at the plight of one of their classmates, who was underdeveloped and was forced to wear false bras just to look as though she had any figure at all. Mandy slipped on her yellow bikini and adjusted it so that it was comfortable.
"You sure look good in that," Liz commented enviously. She was struggling with her one-piece suit. "If I didn't have so much I could wear one."
"You're not fat," Mandy said. "You know that as well as I do. You're built like Sophia Loren."
"Oh, sure."
"You are! All the boys go ape over you."
"Can't keep their hands off, you mean."
"Since when did you complain?" Mandy asked, and they fell to giggling again.
The boys were waiting for them when they came out of the locker. Mandy was pleased that Tony looked good in just his trunks, that his chest expansion and legs were husky and well developed. He was, she thought, all man, and it gave her a thrill to think of him completely nude ... something which she immediately blanked out of her mind.
Gil St. John was heavier in the stomach, with the beginnings of a little pot over his trunks. He stood loose-limbed and relaxed like a good-natured sloth, and as they walked together down the beach, he swung his arms as though there was something simian in his ancestry. But it was Gil's smile which impressed people; the way it parted and his eyes lit up.
"Liz looked out over the crowded beach. It sure is crowded!"
"We'll find a place. How about over there?" suggested Tony, "over by the rocks?"
"Rocks, s c h m o c k s," Gil replied. "I like sand."
They threaded their way through the multitude, searching for some room, the sun beating down and making them hot and sweaty, "I'm getting a headache with all this looking," Liz complained.
"Well, what's the matter with right here?" Gil said as he stood next to a group which was picnicking. "I think here is real fine."
"Too close to the other people," Mandy said, shaking her head.
"They'll move," Gil said in a strange voice, and he stared at the two boys and their dates as the foursome ate sandwiches. One of the boys was pouring a cold liquid from a large thermos and one of the girls was fiddling with the small portable radio, trying to find a local rock station. They were all peacefully minding their own businesses.
"Right." Mandy looked at Liz. "Further on down maybe."
"I like it here," Gil said stubbornly. "Besides, they've been here long enough." He grinned again and then bent over and prodded the nearest boy with his thumb. "Hey you. Move along."
The kid turned and looked up at him. "Flake off."
Gil St. John gave out a low gurgling sound in his throat and pushed his shoe in the boy's face. The young man fell over, dropping his sandwich in the sand with surprise, but as Gil moved in to kick again, the boy rolled over and was suddenly on his feet. Gil was moving forward, off balance, and the boy dove at him, bringing him down to the sand in a hard tackle. In the same instant his buddy came to help and cracked Gil on the nose with the thermos, sending the cold liquid all over Liz. Liz screamed, and then screamed again as she saw the blood spurt from Gil's nostrils and gush warmly down his contorted face.
Tony leapt to help Gil, but he was too late, caught unawares as the others had been by Gil's sudden attack. The first boy was on his feet again and swung a roundhouse blow which grazed Tony's side, and Tony reflexively struck back. The two of them rolled on the sand, locked in a snarling clench.
"Let him go," Mandy screamed and bit the boy who had Tony by the throat on his arm. The boy yelled and tried to take a swipe at the teenage girl, but that allowed Tony to punch him in the face, so he returned to fighting Tony. One of the other girls, however, threw herself at Mandy. "You bit him! You bit him!" she howled, and then she and Mandy were biting and screeching on the beach, clawing and cursing. The fourth girl threw the portable radio at Liz, and that started them going.
The radio, which landed on its back in the sand, was playing "He's Got the Whole World In His Hands," loudly, as the volume had been turned up inadvertently. Nobody took notice.
Then it was over, just as suddenly as it had started, for the other people on the beach stepped in and tore them apart. Recriminations and curses and tears flowed, and for one moment it looked as though the free-for-all might start again.
"You goddamn punk!" the boy who had hit Gil with the thermos snarled. "I oughtta tear your head off!" He tried to break free of the people who restrained him.
"Look what you did to my nose, you bastard!" Gil shot back, but it was a complaint which didn't receive much sympathy.
"We were having lunch," one of the girls sobbed. "Not doing anything to anybody, and these hoods came along." She brushed a tear from her eye, leaving a streak of sand along with the wetness across her cheek.
Mandy felt sick to her stomach. She wasn't a punk, and couldn't for the life of her understand how this had happened. She looked around nervously and saw that a couple of policemen were coming over from the pier. "Let's go," she said to Liz, nudging her with her elbow. "Fuzz."
"What about them?" Liz asked, indicating Gil and Tony.
"To hell with them." Mandy began pushing her way through the crowd in the opposite direction to the cops, and she could hear the unfriendly mutterings and threats from the hostile onlookers. She clenched her teeth and kept her eyes straight ahead until at last she was through the circle.
Liz was right behind her. "Where to now?"
"Straight ahead, down the beach. And let's go down by the shore where the sand is harder." She walked determinedly. "That Gil. Why the hell did he try a fool stunt like that?"
"I don't know. He was trying to show off to us, I guess." She turned around. "Maybe we oughtta wait for them."
Mandy turned, frowning. "No."
"Well, I mean Gil might be really hurt. And he did it for us, wanting to get us a nice place to sit 'n' everything."
"That kind of doing and showing I can do without," Mandy said, her lips pressed thin, and stalked on ahead.
"Mandy! Wait! Please!"
"I want to go swimming, Liz. I don't want to go back there, not with all those people looking at me like I committed murder. You go back if you want, but I'm going down here and find a nice place and stay there."
Liz looked torn between her desire to return and her reluctance to leave her friend. "But-"
"Either come with me or go," Mandy said tersely.
"I don't feel right, just going off like this. I bet that they're looking for us. I guess I'll go look for them."
"Suit yourself."
"If I can't find them soon, I'll come back, because I'm not going to waste much time. like you said, it was their fault, trying to act like big men. Anyway, maybe I can pick up a couple of others instead."
Liz turned and hurried back, running in that crab-like way girls do, and Mandy turned back to the surf and sand, shaking her head with concern. She wasn't sure she wanted either of those boys back again, or any others for that matter. God knew what kind of bums Liz would bring back in their place. Sailors or something. If only Liz was a little more discriminate, was more sure of herself and her appeal so that she didn't have to keep testing it. It was Liz who first looked at strange boys and responded to their whistles and winks, who would jump in a car as it cruised up Broadway-Surfside's main drag-on a Friday night. Mandy wished for the sake of her friend that Liz would take more in account when she talked with a boy than whether he wore pants and looked older than she did. That was all, it seemed, to make Liz cooperate. And sometimes girls got picked up by guys who wouldn't take no for an answer or were degenerates who might lock them in rooms and burn them with cigarettes and other things before raping them. A kid had to be careful.
At the far end of the beach were the rocks where Tony had first suggested they go. She clambered over them, and then down on the warm sand on the other side, and was now cut off from the swarms. She walked along for another hundred yards and then sat down on the beach, leaning back against a large piece of driftwood and turned her face to the sun. A strange glow filtered through her lids and it was relaxing, as relaxing as the hoarse call of the ocean waves a few feet from her. She drifted in peace, letting the adrenalin of the past action settle and for a while Mandy was glad that Liz was gone, that she was out here all by herself with the sand and water and soft wind.
There was comfort, and Mandy basked in it, but there was also the presence of a dream, a vision she had long held at odd moments alone. The dream changed with the circumstances, though the subject was always the same. Family. A warm and understanding, and yes, even mutinied mother, and a contented father and perhaps a baby brother or sister. Family ... and right that moment they were just a little ways away, her mother putting the paper plates away and her father quiet and lighting his pipe after the good meal of potato salad and sandwiches, and her younger brother or sister was at the cute age of six or seven and at the water's edge with his shovel and pail, digging a sand castle, his voice high and light and heard only after an incoming wave had broken and slithered to nothingness.
And because her eyes were shut, Mandy could imagine the dream, but she knew that it wasn't true, that there wasn't a father or young brother, and that her mother was at home worried more about patching up the rift with her latest boyfriend than anything else. And suddenly Mandy felt alone again, the dream shattered, and tears hung crystal like across her lids.
She stood up and ran toward the water, gulping the clear air in an attempt to clear her mind of the thoughts; both thoughts, both of what would be nice and what actually was. She returned to place her cheap plastic sunglasses down and remove her hair ribbon. Then once again, with her arms spread wide, she hurried down the gently sloping beach and into the surf. The water around her legs was cold and a shock, but uncaring, Mandy reached down and scooped up more to cover her arms and stomach and face. The taste was sally and good, and she plunged further into the green, letting the swell raise her and lift her into the oncoming waves.
Underwater, she opened her eyes and was in a world of mixed dark and blue lines, shapes, and bubbles. She wondered if she would see any fish or sea-creatures, as she had a few times before, but all that was in her line of sight were shifting, swirling sand and shells. She swam with a breaststroke slowly, adding her own bubbles to the foam of the water's surface, and then with a quick kick she surfaced and shook her head so that her hair was whipped behind her ears, half-dry, and then she raised her hands to squeeze the hair gently and plaster it back. She turned back to the beach; Liz wasn't back and of that she was thankful.
Swimming lazily, floating at times with her face to the sun, the fifteen-year-old felt how stupid the fight had been, how stupid it had been to be picked up by Tony, and Gil, of whom she knew less than nothing. It was her own fault, she thought angrily, her own damned fault and next time she'd know better. But all kids do crazy things when it's summer. She swam further out and rested on the gently buoyant swells, then she turned and kicked her way back to shore. As she waded from the surf, squeezing the water from her hair and running her forefinger around the banded edge of her suit the way women do, she saw Liz hurrying down the beach toward her.
With Liz were Tony and Gil. They all waved at her.
She waved back, but she wasn't sure she was glad to see them.
CHAPTER 2
"There she is!" Liz cried to the two boys excitedly. "She's seen us. She's waving! Let's hurry up."
"So go," Gil said in a sulky manner. "She don't want us around, not after the way she ran off."
"Naw, you're wrong, Gil," Liz said. "She told me to go looking for you two."
"Crap."
"She did, Gil."
"She should have waited," Tony said belligerently.
"That was my idea, of leaving. I was afraid," Liz lied. "She was hot and wanted to go swimming so I said I'd go back alone. That's the truth."
"I saw her. She was in the lead, I tell you."
"Ah, knock it off, Gil," Tony suddenly snapped. "You started the whole goddamned mess, and I don't blame them for being mad at us. Hell, they ought not to be speaking to us by rights."
"Yeah?" Gil stopped short and faced his friend, digging his toes in the sand and balling his fists. "Yeah?" he repeated.
"Cut it," Liz snapped. "There's been enough fighting today."
"I'm not looking for trouble," Tony said, but his eyes glared.
"Drop dead," Gil said. "Buddy-boy."
Tony ignored the taunt and raced down the beach to Mandy. "Hi," he said when he got to her. "I'm glad we're together again."
"Are we?"
Tony extended his hand for Mandy to slap him. "Hey look, I'm sorry. Real sorry. We acted like a couple of ass-holes, and you did the right thing taking off the way you did."
She ignored the hand and the lewdly worded apology. "How's Gil?"
"His nose is pretty bad. Maybe broken."
"Hope it is. He could have gotten us all arrested."
"I know." Tony traced a line in the sand with his big toe. He felt acutely uncomfortable, trying to make up with this girl, a situation he hated at the best of times. "He does crazy things sometimes, but he's okay."
"Huh," she sniffed, and then ran toward the water again.
"Hey!" Tony shouted after her.
She continued in the surf and sank beneath a breaker and felt the ocean boil around her. She knew she was smiling, and that she wasn't mad at Tony or Gil any longer. Especially at Tony, whom she was beginning to like more and more. It wasn't his fault, not what his friend did. and it was wrong for her to stay angry at him. Besides, he was so good looking and had nice ways and really seemed embarrassed and sorry as he stood on the shore. Then she suddenly felt the rush of warm flesh next to her and Tony flashed up from a shallow dive and rose from the water about a foot from her. Mandy laughed and extended her hands to him. He grabbed them in his and together they slid under the next wave and examined each other's faces with wide frog eyes in the blue-green of the water.
"The greatest," Tony gasped as he surfaced.
"You bet!" Mandy agreed. "Watch out! Here comes a big bastard!"
They submerged again and when they broke surface Tony had his arms around Mandy's waist and she enjoyed it, enjoyed the feel of his arms and chest and legs against hers. "You're light," he said to her.
She laughed. "That's because of the water."
"Rock-a-bye baby!" he yelled and threw her into the next wave. She came up spluttering with laughter and water.
"Let's swim out," he said. "Out there, to the raft." He pointed to a bobbing platform which rode at anchor about two hundred yards beyond them.
"I don't know, Tony. I'm not that good."
"Sure you are," Tony enthused. "If you get tired, I'll be right behind you. Come on," he coaxed. "It isn't rough."
"Suppose the current is bad coming back?"
"Then we'll wait for somebody to come and get us. He pointed to the lifeguard tower. "Let's go." He pushed Mandy ahead of him.
Tony swam with Mandy a stroke ahead of him, and when she turned over to float, he pushed her by her heels. He sensed that Mandy didn't want to talk, for if she did she would indicate fear, so he smiled as she floated and ducked under and came up making seal noises and generally clowned around. In the spotlight of the sun tempered by the water, they reached the ladder of the raft and Mandy climbed up wearily, followed by Tony.
A couple were embracing on the planking of the raft, and Mandy couldn't help pausing for a moment to stare at them. They were in a tight passionate knot of arms and legs, and the girl was moaning a bit as the boy's hands roamed her almost naked body freely.
"Come on," Tony said roughly. "Not only do you run off, but you got other bad habits." He guided the teen-age girl across the raft by her arm and then they sat down with their backs to the couple who seemed oblivious to their presence. He shielded his eyes from the sun glare with one hand and stared at the distant beach. "You tired?"
"No, not too much."
"Good." He placed a tentative arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad we're out here and not back on that old beach."
Mandy rested her head against his chest. It was an automatic thing, seemingly the right thing for the moment, and even though she barely had met the boy, she felt entirely at ease with him. Is this what love is like? she thought. The closeness, the calm, the fusing of two to one?
"Hungry?" he asked.
"I was earlier, but not now. The ... excitement made me lose my appetite."
"It'll come back. And when it does, I'll buy you a great big meal." He squeezed her gently in affirmation.
Mandy smiled at him, looking up into his eyes. He didn't know that she was a growing girl and had one hell of an appetite. She hoped that he wasn't bluffing about the feed. Then she heard two quick splashes and turned to see the other couple in the water and heading for shore.
"Too bad," Tony said, looking at them, "but the raft doesn't belong to them. We got the same right to be here as they do."
"Maybe-maybe they wanted to go someplace for other things!" Mandy said daringly, and she giggled.
"Yeah," Tony said and grinned widely. He sighed and settled back and looked up at the sun. He stroked Mandy's back, up and down along her spinal column, and made secret shivers course through her muscles. She lay down beside him, cuddling against his still wet body. "Mmmmm," she said warmly.
Tony rolled over and pressed his lips down, felt the salt of their kiss. He kissed her again and then once more, feeling her freeze with slight fright, with restraint beneath him. He kissed her more ... .Her breath didn't smell of cigarettes like so many girls did, but milk-fresh and she held on in spite of her internal, mute objections, sending his loins stirring with sudden rocket-like heat. Everything would be all right, he knew that instant. It might mean taking some time, for Mandy was obviously not a round-heels pushover, and wouldn't be fucked in one date. Maybe two, or three-or hell, maybe she'd hold out for a whole week and make a big production out of it! She was a sexy little bitch, all right!
He put his hand on her left breast, squeezing it gently, tentatively ... and as expected, Mandy lifted his hand and shook her head slightly, but her lips were still pressed tightly against his. He kissed her again, feeling the rising quiver of passion in her youthful frame, and after stroking her stomach and thighs a few times, he placed his hand once again on the bright yellow bulge of her bikini top. This time she pinched the tender skin on the back of his hand as warning for him to stop.
"Let go, Tony," she said, and pinched him again.
"I need something to hold on to keep from falling in the water," he said and groped again for her perfectly formed young breast.
"I said let go!" Mandy's voice flattened.
"No. Say, you've really got a pair. All yours, too."
"I'm going to sit up," she warned, and he could feel the tensing of her body for a struggle.
"All right, relax," he said good-naturedly. "I'll be good."
Mandy was afraid. Afraid not so much of Tony, of this wonderfully alive male boy of passion and life next to her-but of herself. She was fifteen, had been out on dates for years, had learned all about pawing hands and determined lunges. Knew about them and knew how to subdue the desires which caused her dates to suddenly get bulges in their pants. She had had her experiences dancing with teen-age Romeos at the proms, had felt a hard, elongated object slide up her lower belly as the partner held her close to him during the slow numbers. She knew what it was, and could visualize it in her mind as the slow music drifted through her. His penis ... his sword of sex had been aroused by her, and it always had given her a sense of power and devilish glee to see the consternation on the boy's face when he couldn't wish his penis to go limp.
She had been to enough drive-ins and parking spots to know what front-seat loving was like, of the jostling on the cushions and the inadvertent blowing of the horn. Yes, and she had been excited, had been sent shivering with the touch and kiss of some of her boyfriends, had had a hard time forcing herself to say no, no you can't, no you mustn't.
She hadn't been able to say no all the time. Her bra was constantly being removed, it seemed, and the cool rush of night air across her nipples had always made them rise, harden ... and then there was the wet, moist kisses on them, the suckling of the teats as though she was a mother and her dates were her babes ... and she had moaned and twisted with electric thrills, her breasts heaving and panting like pearl globes of fire. And the fingers, the silken touch along her inner thighs, the magic touch at her tender pubic mound ... the one time she had allowed those fingers further access, and the almost impossible time she had in controlling the boy when he wanted her to slip her moist panties down and spread her trembling legs....
Oh, she knew the rites of teen-age mating well, and though still a virgin, she was not a prude. Yet this time, with the close and lusting body of this boy she barely had met, she knew that it was different. She didn't know why, just that it was, and that her body was going to betray her if she wasn't careful. There was some magical chemistry between them, some special ingredient that with the others hadn't been there. When his hand had touched her fabric encased breast there was something respectful, loving, tender in his caress, and it was only with the absolute limit of her control that she was able to turn him away from exploring her nubile young maiden body further. She knew she had to, that she was going to have to play hard to get at least a little bit so that he wouldn't think his respect had been wasted on her.
Her loins were on fire, though, and inside her vagina she could feel that moistness was beginning to seep from between their tender, pink lips. She leaned up and ran her fingers across the chin and neck of Tony, and pressed her palms against his temples.
"I tell you, Mandy," the boy said breathlessly, "I wish we never had to go back. That it would be just you and me out here forever."
"Forever...." Mandy echoed.
"You get me all steamed up, you know that?" He pulled her close. "I don't understand it, Mandy. I just met you, and already I feel as though I've known you all my life. I'm older and gone through a hell of a lot more than you. So why should you be able to do this to me?"
Impulsively, the teen-age girl embraced her boy, kissing him in the daylight of the raft as the ocean swirled beneath her and tugged at the small square island. Her lips crushed against his and they were full, warm, and responsive.
"Mandy," Tony gasped her name before he was able to recover from her kiss. "Mandy ... oh, God!"
Mandy pulled back and amusedly saw that she had gotten the front of his swim trunks to bulge, to stand out with the marked outline of his hardened penis stretching up from between his legs, almost meeting the waistband. "Is that what you want, Tony?"
"Be decent," he moaned, "and stop kidding me."
"You don't want me to be decent." She raised herself up on one elbow. "What makes you think I put out?"
"Who hasn't? Especially a babe that kisses like you!"
"You won't see me again if I do," she replied scornfully.
"To hell with you," he snapped. "I like you, like you a lot and everything, but I can take only so much. Let's go back before I cream in my suit."
"Tony!" His language genuinely shocked her.
"I'm-I'm sorry." He hung his head contritely. "Look, tonight. Let's go out tonight, whaddya say?"
"Where?"
"I dunno. A movie or something."
"A drive-in? So you can...." she grinned at him, knowing she was egging him on.
"Crap," he said and stood up stiffly. "Are you or aren't you?"
"Sure, Tony." She rose then and linked her arm through his. "I think I can make it back all right," she whispered in his ear. "But just in case, stay close!"
"like skin, baby!"
"And kiss me againno, in the water!" She led him to the edge of the raft, and freeing herself from his arm, dove in. Then Tony was beside her in the surf and she passed her arms around his middle and dug her nails into his back and she could feel the tightening of his muscles. When she kissed him her mouth was opened a little more and the steady breeze that blew off the invisible water was like a cool hand across her forehead.
I like him ... I like him too damn much for my own good!
* * *
Mandy slouched in the easy chair, watching an old Perry Mason repeat on the television and eating an apple. Her thoughts weren't on the screen, but on Tony-Tony Desmond, the boy who in the space of a few short hours had suddenly made her feel alive, like a woman. Was it him, her mind cautioned, or was it the changes in her own body as she developed into a mature female? Was it-was it time, now, as one of her older girl friends had put it? That one day you're still a child, not really with it, and the next you're ready for sex and everything, and God help the guy who was around when that happened?
She stretched out and yawned and ran her fingers through her carefully combed hair. She guessed it really wasn't all that important, whether it was him or her behind the quivering feelings in her breasts and stomach and between her legs. The important thing was that it was there, alive and generating a tingling heat every time she thought about it.
And what a great time to have it happen, during vacation and not when lousy school would get in the way. Now time was endless and free, willing and pliable to be molded into anything she wanted to do. She momentarily imagined the wonderful, lazy days of summer moving forward with them filled with Tony ... until autumn came and the return to school. School was okay, what with friends and clubs and parties, and kidding around during lunch periods. But if she didn't stay close to the school and do some work, there was plenty of teacher trouble, and because freedom had nothing to do with trouble it was a shame to waste a moment of the now free days.
Hurry up, Tony. Hurry up and take me away from here....
There was a noise, then; a squawk from the kitchen like a wounded bird, and it interrupted Mandy. Her mother had come home.
"I heard you, ma," she called back impatiently.
"There's another bundle in the car," her mother repeated anyway. "If you're dressed go out and get it."
"Inna minute."
"No, now. And don't make me yell at you. I've got a headache." Mandy's mother came puffing into the living room from the kitchen, having placed one heavy grocery sack on the counter and waiting with hands on hips for her daughter to do the same. "Well?"
"Sure, sure," Mandy sighed and climbed out of her chair.
"At eighty-seven cents a pound, I can't afford to let the butter melt in that sack." The mother collapsed in the same seat Mandy had vacated. She glared at her daughter. "Where were you today?"
"I told you this morning. I was going out with Liz. I did."
"Don't get snotty with me!" Mrs. Simpson let her voice rise as though the two of them were rooms apart. "I asked where, not with who."
"Surfside. The beach. We went swimming. Oh for crying out loud, ma, leave me alone, will you? I'm not a baby any more."
"I worry about you." Her mother suddenly turned maudlin, lowering her voice as fast as she had raised it. "I worry about you because you're the only one left now, the only one. Some women who've been deserted by their husbands don't even try to make a home for their children, never even care where they are or what they do."
"You want me to get the groceries?" Mandy asked, knowing what was going to lie ahead now that her mother got wound up on her favorite topic. "The butter-"
"He left me," the mother cried. "Your bastard father ran off with some damned chippy just because I wasn't feeling well. But I'll show him! I'll get better and I'll show him! The ass!"
"Mother-"
"I never sleep any more," the mother moaned.
"Of course you do. And you shouldn't take so many pills. They're not good for you. All you have to do is shut your eyes and go to sleep." Mandy didn't add that the pint of brandy her mother kept beside the bed was a good way of dozing off, too. Not that her mother didn't know about brandy-or about how to drink it in the late afternoon. The smell of her breath now said as much. "Look, ma, you oughta pull yourself together. You've got nothing to worry about."
"I got so many troubles I can't think."
"We've got the house. It's paid for."
"I know. But the taxes are going up. And next year we'll need new screens. And you know I'm too sick to work much."
"You're not sick."
"I am so! The doctor says I am."
Mandy leaned against the door jamb of the kitchen and sighed again. This is how it had been since her father had walked out two years ago, and secretly Mandy thought he had shown a lot of patience staying as long as he had. Her mother was a good looking svelte woman, with a shapely figure and nice legs and when she wanted to, she could really get dolled up.
But she rarely wanted to, because she was "always sick." She wasn't really, but used psychosomatic diseases and hypochondria in an effort to gain sympathy and her own way. As a result the older woman-who resembled her daughter in features-had lines cutting deeply across her face, and a slump to the shoulders which denied the proud lift of her breasts. The mother cried and whined and drank, and now her breasts were sagging and her stomach bloating from the excess alcohol and mental distress. The doctor had said she was sick, all right-but not in the way Mandy's mother thought.
"Little slut-chaser," Mrs. Simpson muttered. "Hope he dies of the clap."
"Ah, ma."
"I should've gotten a separation, that's what. Then I could have kept him in jail if I found him with another woman."
"You want me to get the bag?" Mandy asked again.
Mrs. Simpson didn't answer. She was in the dungeon of her mental despair, with her husband spread-eagled on the torture rack, and she was limbering a whip....
Mandy carried the bag of groceries in from the old Chewy and began to put the items away. Her mother was in one hell of a mood today, she thought as she stacked the canned goods in the cabinet over the sink. Hasn't made up with the latest bar-fly she hooked. Bill Something. He was too drunk the couple of times Mandy had met him at the house to get his name out right.
Her mother wasn't in any better shape, and thought the thick tongue-wrapping was hilarious. It had called for another drink.
She was going to have to play it nice and easy, she could see that. The date with Tony was in just a few minutes, and if she didn't want her mother to say no, or to make a scene when he arrived as her mother had a few times previously, well then she was going to have to lay a little grease first. "I'm putting everything away," she called out. "And I'm glad you bought butter because we're all out."
Mrs. Simpson didn't reply.
"But you forgot the ketchup," Mandy complained. "You know I like ketchup with my meat."
Still nothing from the living room.
"You want me to put the meat in the freezer? I said, do you want me to put the meat in the freezer?"
"It's for your dinner," Mrs. Simpson said listlessly.
"Well ... ah, I'm not going to be here for dinner, ma."
"Don't tell me you're going out again tonight!"
"Don't shout, ma."
"Why not? You don't seem to hear anything I try to teach you anyway!" There was a pause, a sound far louder to Mandy's ears than noise. Then: "What stud is getting the break tonight?"
"Tony Desmond. A kid from school."
Mrs. Simpson suddenly appeared at the doorway, looking at her daughter as though she could push her through the wall. "You're going to be out late again, too, I suppose, and you know I can't sleep with you gone. Maybe you won't even bother to come home at all!"
"If that's what you want."
"If that's what you want!" her mother shouted. "To run away like someone else I could mention!"
"Ma!" Mandy gripped the edge of the counter and for once looked her age. And frightened. "Tony's a nice boy, honest!"
"So nice he can't let you eat at home?"
"We met at the beach, ma. We went swimming and then he took me out for something to eat. That was only a little while ago, and I'm not hungry."
"Where?"
"Sharkey's."
"A hamburger joint! You couldn't wait and have chops with your sick mother. Oh no-you'd lather eat trash and slop. What kind of daughter have I raised? Oh Lord, I-"
Mrs. Simpson was interrupted by the front door buzzer sounding. Thank God, breathed Mandy. It must be Tony. Now if only ma will behave....
"I'll get it," Mandy said, and raced for the door. She opened the door, and sure enough, standing nervously on the doorstep, tugging at his belt and moving his shoulders around in his light-weight plaid sports coat, Tony Desmond grinned.
"Hi," he said. "On time and everything."
"Great. Come on in." She beckoned to him. "I want you to meet my mother. Mother, oh Mother!"
"I'm coming," she heard her mother reply from the kitchen.
Tony sat down on the couch. Then he smiled and widened his eyes appreciatively. "Wow! Don't you look good."
"Thanks." Mandy smiled, liking the compliment, and knowing that she did look nice. She had changed after Tony had dropped her off, discarding her jeans and blouse, taking a long bath and then slipping into a random pleated white jersey skirt which lay gracefully over her slim hips, a blue jersey blouse that was cut low and in a deep V at the throat and a wide red leather belt that locked together with metal anchor fastenings. Around her tanned left ankle was a gold-plated slave bracelet and on her right wrist she wore her lucky bracelet with the charms she had been collecting for three years.
Mrs. Simpson came into the living room, and it was hard telling who was the most nervous. The older woman hated meeting Mandy's friends, and Mandy knew this was a trial for her by the taut expression on her face. Tony looked polite and embarrassed, the way a guy should look when he met his girl's mother for the first time. "Mother, meet Tony Desmond. Tony, my mother."
"I'm ... glad to meet you, Tony," her mother said.
Tony sat on the edge of the couch. "Yes. But it should cool off soon."
"Would you care for a drink?"
"No ... no, thank you."
"You live in Westwood?"
"No, in Tucker."
Mrs. Simpson darted a quick, suspicious look at her daughter. "I thought you said he was an old school chum, Mandy."
Tony, feeling the tension in the air, caught the drift of the lie immediately. "Well, you see Mrs. Simpson, I used to go to Westwood, but my parents moved last year."
"I see," but her tone indicated that Mrs. Simpson did not. "It's warmer in the valley than here. Are you sure you wouldn't care for a cold drink?"
"Honest," Tony said, raising his hand. "I'm just fine, thanks."
"Or isn't coke strong enough for you?"
"Ma!" Mandy protested. "She's only kidding, Tony."
"I hope you don't drink," Mrs. Simpson went on. "So many kids do these days."
"Oh, no, ma'am," the boy replied. "When it's real hot sometimes my father lets me have a beer in the afternoon, but that's all."
Mrs. Simpson nodded. "Your father's home?"
"Yes."
"Has Mandy told you about her father?"
Tony looked at Mandy. She had told him on the way to her place after eating at Sambo's. Tony lied. "No, Mrs. Simpson."
This was too much for Mandy. She glanced at her wristwatch and said, "We want to make the early show, ma. We better be going."
The boy stood up, rubbing his obviously moist hands on his pants. "Nice to have met you, Mrs. Simpson."
"You drive carefully," the woman admonished him. "And don't stay out too late."
"I won't, ma."
Mandy thought that the next few minutes, the little space of time it took to leave the house and climb in Tony's car-a lime green Mustang-and then drive out of sight of her mother standing on the porch would take forever. When at last there was distance and the house could, no longer be seen, she let out a whoosh of relief and slid over to Tony. He put his right arm around her shoulder and drew her still nearer to him and steered the car with his left.
"I hate her," Mandy said with venom. "I hate her because she wants me to hate her."
"No she doesn't," Tony said soothingly. He didn't want tonight ruined because the girl was all upset over her old lady. "She doesn't mean what she says."
"The hell she doesn't. Anyway, I hate her." She was silent for a moment, as if brooding, and then she said, "C'mon, Tony, let's get this show on the road."
"Fine by me. Where do you want to go?"
"How about the Avalon."
"Go dancing? Naw-too many greasers hang out there."
"So we won't bother nobody."
"Squaresville. How about a movie."
"Which one?"
"They got a great one playing at Forest Park." Forest Park was a drive-in, one which specialized in "naughty" pictures.
"That's a long way out," the girl complained.
"What the hell, we got time. Besides, I like drive-ins. For three dollars nobody bothers us and that includes cops and other assorted squares and meddlers."
"Well, what's playing?"
"I told you. A great one, just in from one of those Scandinavian countries. Sweden or Denmark or someplace like that. It's called "Oslo Orgy," and I hear they do everything in it!"
Mandy tingled with delicious, forbidden excitement. Everything? No, no, not everything! But, "All right. If you're game, so am I!" She wriggled closer to the boy. "If I get any closer, I'll be in your lap!"
"That's the next thing in cars, baby." Tony kissed the little teen-age girl on the cheek as his right hand slid across her breast. "That's going to be the next big improvement!"
CHAPTER 3
The drive-in theater was shaped like a wedge of pie and at the acute angle of the wedge the screen towered in an enormous white square, upon which were projected the gigantic figures of the actors and actresses. Parked in semicircles, which grew smaller in arc as they approached the apex of the wedge, were darkened cars.
Tony and Mandy had trouble finding a place at first; they'd arrived late, after the first feature had started, and most of the good spots were taken. They ended up in the back row, toward the middle. "I can barely see from here," Mandy complained. , Tony was reaching outside the car window for the metal loudspeaker. He attached it to the window frame and said, "It's either here or over in a corner someplace. Take your pick."
"It's so damned crowded."
"It's a hot movie. Everybody wants to see it." The boy turned up the volume control of the speaker and filled the Mustang with the voices of the actors. "Watch the picture."
"Gee, thanks," she replied sarcastically.
Tony let the remark pass and rummaged around in the back seat of the car, turning around and placing his knees on the front seat and leaning over.
"What are you doing?"
"Never mind. I-ah, here it is." The boy turned around again and proudly held out a quart-sized bottle of Coke with a stopper in its top. "A little joy juice."
The fifteen-year-old youngster hesitated.
"What's the matter?" Tony asked, frowning. "You drink, don't you?"
"Sure. Not much, but it's fun." She was bluffing, and hoped that Tony couldn't tell that she was. She wondered if she might be talking herself into a bad future situation. She did drink a little, just to keep up with the kids, but anything stronger than wine gave her a headache. Still, the last hangover hadn't been too bad, and maybe she was learning to take it.
Tony unstoppered the Coke bottle. "Well, this here is a private brand of mine. A little mixture of this and that-what most people find real smooth." He held out the bottle. "Go on, try some."
Mandy tilted the bottle and a warm, sweet liquid filled her mouth. She could taste the cheap bourbon or Scotch-she didn't know which, but could tell the difference between that kind of liquor and gin or vodka. There was something else in it, like flat raspberry soda or ice cream topping. It wasn't bad, not bad at all, and she took another drink before handing it back. But Mandy didn't need long pulls at the bottle, because what the liquor lacked in taste it made up for in strength, and the base of her skull was soon whirling, and her head seemed to be independent of the rest of her young, inexperienced body and was whirling around the car in slow sweeping circuits. She peered out of the windshield at the distant screen and saw to her amazement that the figures upon it had seemingly taken new clarity and focus. And what they were doing! The teenager gasped with shock.
She had never seen one of these imported sex films before, but she had heard all about them. Her friends had talked in hushed giggles about the uncensored versions of the wild erotica which the drive-in showed-and got away with because it was past the town limits and was under county jurisdiction. And the word was that the county was paid plenty to look the other way.
The girl had a slight twinge of doubt in her mind about whether or not she should have gone to such a place with Tony Desmond on their first date, and whether or not she would be able to sit through it, but in another sense was grateful for it. It took her mind off of her mother and her horrible home life.
Tony pulled her close to him again, letting his hand dangle gently over her shoulder. His fingers brushed softly against the tip of her nearest breast. He was growing more confident by the moment, and the lewd, obscene things he had in store for this tender young virgin once she reached the stage of helpless passion ran in delicious kaleidoscopic pictures through his mind. Man, he grinned secretly to himself as he looked out the windshield at the unwinding film, he would turn this little chick every way but up and then maybe find a way for that, too. She'd know she'd been fucked when he was finished with her!
He pressed his lips wetly, grinding his mouth suddenly to the teenager's mouth. Mandy groaned and tried to struggle limply for one panicky moment, feeling his hand pressed hard against the softness of her tender breast.
"Shhh," Tony crooned. "Relax."
He offered her the bottle and she drank again, desperately trying to collect herself. She had never dreamed that a boy kissing her could stir her so, could excite her as much as Tony Desmond did. But before she could pursue the thought further, she was drawn back to the film.
On the screen a man sat looking at a book. At first glance it appeared as though he were reading it but as the angle of the camera turned, it could be seen that he had photographs secreted between the pages. His eyes gleamed as he studied them and the camera came in for a close-up, filling the screen with the breasts and nipples of a woman.
Tony felt his sweet, naive date jump slightly from the sudden and unexpected scene of nudity so blatantly displayed. He held her tighter, pressing his hand once more against the palpitating hardness of her nubile breast.
The man started to turn the page, but suddenly there was a knock on the door. He closed the book and went to the door, opened it and let in a young blonde schoolgirl of about Mandy's age. She was dressed in a girl's school uniform and carried a set of books in her arms. The dialogue was to the effect that she wanted the professor, Dr. Johanssen, to help her with her homework, as she didn't understand it. The professor was more than glad to help. She sat down and shyly opened her book to the page from which he had been teaching the previous morning. The sound track went over the lesson, and then the professor thought of something else he needed to make the lesson clearer so he excused himself and left the room. After a few moments the girl reached over and took her tutor's books to check a figure from her own studies, and opened it. The camera showed a sudden shocked expression cross her face, and she loudly gasped with amazement. Her first reaction was to close the hook and slide it back across the table, but then her curiosity took over and she opened the book again and took tin pictures the professor had been viewing and began to shuffle through them. The pictures were on an angle to the camera and slightly out of focus-a tantalizing, erotic build-up-but there could be seen enough to show that they were pictures of a man and woman in various stages of nakedness and intercourse. The camera switched back to the girl's face, focusing on her amazement, and as the camera remained focused, a slow change seemed to come over her. Her emotions gradually changed from one of amazement to one of open-mouthed excitement. The effect the pictures were having on her were apparent as the drive-in audience could see her eyes slowly dilate and the unmistakable smoky haze of passion flicker through them. The music began to build as she breathed harder, panting in a rhythmic hardness, and she began to writhe slightly in her chair. The camera dropped to the floor and viewed upwards, under the table. She had pulled her skirt up slightly and had inserted her finger under the leg band of her white nylon panties. She softly stroked the barely hidden narrow moist slit of her vagina. Curls of pubic hair and occasional glimpses of pink flesh could be seen glistening wetly as her inner thighs quivered. She shoved her finger deeper and rotated the digit yet faster....
The innocent schoolgirl of real life, young Mandy Simpson, held her breath as she watched the lewd, but exciting scenes unfold on the screen before her. She had never in her life seen anything like it, and was grateful for the covering mask of the car's darkness. It all looked so true to life that she couldn't believe it, and through the intoxicating haze of Tony's bottled drink she could feel her own body twitch with sympathy for the girl on the screen. The alcohol seemed to hit her harder than ever, and she pressed her thighs tightly together to cut off the slight tingle that had started in her belly when Tony had kissed her and which was now working its way down to the sensual valley between her legs.
Tony Desmond, more man than boy now, pressed harder into the softness of her breasts and she made no move to resist as she could feel the tiny, bud-like nipples harden under the thinness of her brassiere. She knew that she would have to stop him soon before things ran away with themselves, but she would wait for a moment or two until the delicious tickling ache between her thighs had subsided.
A sudden look of horror came on the girl's face as there was the sudden sound of footsteps and the door opening. The professor suddenly appeared on screen and had caught her masturbating, with the pictures spread upon the desk. He grabbed her roughly and cursed her while she mewled and pleaded for forgiveness, but he marched her over to a couch, obviously bent on punishment. He pulled her down over his knees, her legs kicking wildly behind her, and he lifted her skirt up over the soft round globes of her buttocks and began spanking her through the panties with the palm of his hand. The slappings were harsh and authentic as they came through the speakers. The girl kicked and screamed under the brutal pounding, her scantily clad little buttocks quivering piteously before each cruel blow.
The camera showed a close-up of his face where a cruel glint shone brightly in his eyes. While he yelled about her leaving his private things alone, the camera then zoomed to her buttocks again, where he began to draw the flimsy panties down over the delicious firm roundness of her young, teen-age flesh. The tender globes were an angry red, and tears of pain ran in streams from her sobbing eyes as she felt the soft nylon being drawn slowly over her rear end and across her thighs. Her face turned toward him, she begged for mercy. He pushed her from his lap, and the poor, fear-struck girl kneeled in front of him, asking him not to report her. He then out-lined what he wanted of her for not going to the head of the school.
"Take your clothes off, my little peach. Strip and we will do some of the things you so avidly looked at!"
"No! No!" the sweet, angelic voice pleaded.
"Yes!" the evil professor hissed.
Quaking with fear, the little girl rose to her feet and began to strip the clothing from her young budding body. The professor, grinning satanically, did the same, his pants dropping to the floor. His big, rigid penis was just slightly out of camera range, but the whole audience knew that it was there, just an inch below the bottom of the screen. The girl finished dropping her panties and stood before the man totally nude, her arms futilely crossed over her breasts and in front of her pubic mound. Her hair-covered base wasn't completely covered by the palm of her tiny hand; the curls peeked out, soft and sparse, and the inner slit of her vaginal valley could be seen slightly darker. The professor chortled gleefully. Mandy Simpson hardly dared to breathe. The liquor-which she had drawn from repeatedly as she watched the screen-had turned her body into a loose bundle of raw nerves, and her mind seemed no longer in control. She could not believe what she was seeing or the feelings it was causing to course through her still immature, but firm body in tiny, licking flames of desire. Tony Desmond had pulled her to him tightly and during the excitement of the girl removing her panties, he had inserted his hand down the "V" of Mandy's blouse, pulled up her brassiere and now cupped one naked, quivering breast. She felt the small pin-pricks of delicious feeling race through her nipples as he rolled his thumb and forefinger maddeningly around the one exposed tit. She felt the heat of his breath brushing against her ear as he turned his head toward her and locked his lips wetly against hers. She tried for a moment to twist away, but the pressure of the excitement and of his mouth was too much for her.
"No ... no, Tony, please no...." she moaned, her words lost from the constriction of his lips.
"Why not, Mandy? Why not, just like they are, on the screen?" His hand snaked around her and stroked her pulsating young thigh, and then he lowered his lips once more and completely engulfed the squirming teenager's soft lips, his tongue darting out to slip between her teeth. An uncontrollable tremor surged through her, her mouth opening to the pillage of the boy's onslaught, her entire being relaxing against him. He held her tight, his hands hot and smooth on her bare breast and on her twin spheres of buttocks, and he ground his groin against her thigh. She could tell he was hard, that his penis was bursting to get out of his pants and into her....
"Stop, Tony!" Mandy mewled. "Oh no ... no ... no!" With near superhuman strength she squirmed away from his grip. ".Let's ... watch the movie, Tony ... let's calm down. We can't do it, not here, not now! I'm not some little street slut you can ... you can take just like that."
"I know you're not, Mandy," Tony breathed in her ear. God, how his cock ached, how his testicles seemed to cry out from torture. He backed away, breathing raggedly from the excitement, trying to control his lust so that he didn't suddenly spring on the little schoolgirl right then and there and tear her clothes off. Easy does it, he told himself. She'll go along if you don't push it....
Mandy got a sudden clear view through the fogged windshield. It was of the little actress-and she was fondling the professor's penis! "Oh God," moaned Mandy, turning back to Tony. "They're doing something awful!"
She hadn't expected this. Kissing, yes. Maybe even a bare breast or thigh. Small tears brimmed her eyes. But in spite of the fact that she had buried her face in Tony's shoulder, the sounds coming from the speaker were wet and sucking and punctuated intermittently with mewls and groans. There were other sounds as the screen ravishment continued, and they seemed to be coming at her from all sides, from everywhere.
"Holy Christ, would you look at that!" Tony gaped, sucking in his breath. He was panting now, and his excitement transmitted to Mandy, and against her will, she turned back to watch the movie.
The man was on a couch now, his giant rigid penis standing in the air like a huge fleshy monster. Straddling him was the schoolgirl, the round whiteness of her buttocks poised directly over the hardness of his burgeoning cock. She was reaching back underneath her thin, young body with her slim hand and guiding his penis into her. The red bulbous head made contact with the moist open flanges of the girl's cunt. She moved his cock up and down in the moist glistening slit for a few moments, parting her thin, wheat-colored pubic hair and then with a slight "ooohhhh" ground her buttocks down hard.
Mandy stared in hypnotized disbelief as she watched the throbbing cock of the actor slide slowly up into the clasping lips of the young girl's vagina, making a wet sluicing noise as it entered. She ground down on it all the way until Mandy could only see a small tiny bit at the base of the professor's cock protruding from her tight, moist lips surrounding it. Mandy knew that she should scream, that she should throw the car door open and flee from this lewd, filthy picture, but the tranquilizing effect of the alcohol and the tightness of her boyfriend's arms would not permit it. Instead, she lay frozen on the car seat and watched helplessly as the girl began a slow grinding movement with her buttocks rising in the air until just the tip of the man's penis was left inside the warm enclosing sheath of her flesh. Then, with a soft, sighing moan, the schoolgirl would drop heavily back down on him, impaling his shaft completely with each smooth, strong stroke.
Mandy turned her head away again, a tight restrictive feeling digging deep in her stomach. She had never imagined what it was really like to make love, had never watched two people have intercourse, and she found that it affected her in peculiar ways. Instead of absolute revulsion she could feel a strange, light-fingered quivering deep between her own thighs, and as she closed her eyes and pressed her face from the windshield, she found that she had her own, private mental motion picture continuing to envision the man's cock, wet and glistening, skewering into the. soft moistness of the young girl's vagina. She clenched her eyes tighter, but could not blot out the lust inciting picture. The soft moans and the wet sucking sounds of their love-making drifted from the loudspeaker and magnified the obscene images a thousand times in her brain.
Her body stiffened as she felt Tony begin : massaging the soft white cheeks of her buttocks from behind and pulling her loins harder against his. As he ground against her, his mouth locked once more on hers. He took her hand and placed it on his pants ... and she gasped as she felt the swelling hardness there. She had never touched a boy's penis before! Never! She tried to take her hand away as though the cloth of his pants was on fire, but his grip was too strong. She found that he was rubbing her hand up and down along the spiny ridge, up and down ... and that she was responding, not needing any more coaxing!
She clenched her teeth together, fighting the surging emotions of her body with all her might, but the soft fingers of his one hand nipping teasingly against her nipples and the hardness of his penis as his other hand forced hers to grind into it brought further moans of helpless submission from deep in her throat.
"Oh, Tony! Please don't do this," she pleaded.
The boy's hands fondled the tight, cloth-encased cheeks of the young girl's buttocks. Mandy struggled ... but his kisses burned hotly and his left hand teasingly closed over her throbbing breast, absorbing its cool, full flesh.
"Oh ... oh ... oh!" she cried, alive with sensations. His hands, his tongue, his whole enveloping body enflamed her, and she gasped from the wantonness and craving which was rapidly overtaking her. Tony's hand traveled teasingly up her thigh ... around and in the soft white flesh between them ... then to the narrow secretion band of her flimsy white panties. A panicky thought raced through Mandy's sex-flamed mind, barely coherent in her crazed, alcohol-fuddled mind-that this was like the movie, that what had happened to the innocent schoolgirl was happening now to her!
Yes! Yes! Oh God, Tony's fingers feel so good. So warm and gentle and insistent....
A low purring of arousal escaped from the teen-age girl's lips and she breathed increasingly heavy, blood boiling through her veins. Tony smiled at her and then began to lower her down to the cushion of the front seat.
"Yes, baby, yes," he intoned, "we're really going to make it."
Gently he pushed her down on her back, and she undulated her thighs with rising passion as though her body was responding to some mind other than hers. She raised her arms to Tony in drugged supplication and he in turn crawled so that he was directly over her. His searing mouth and tongue pressed hard against her pliant mouth, and his hands continued to play along her breast and down between her legs, slipping up and down her inner thigh, brushing against the burning, vibrant mound of her soft, young pussy.
"Oh Tony ... oh Tony, don't ... ooohhhh," she moaned. His fingers insinuated themselves inside the narrow leg band of her nylon panties and she cringed at his devilish touch. Her mind tried to preserve the vestiges of her principles, her concepts of morality her mother had so fervently drummed in her, even as her tender flesh betrayed her with its own prurient desire.
Then the boy, unheeding her weakened pleas of mercy, fingered the soft, yielding slit of her cunt, stroking the hair-covered ridges and burrowing deep inside. Mandy involuntarily raised her hips, rotating her sex-hungry thighs in helpful deliberation, spreading her legs further until one shoeless foot' was on the floor mat and the other dangled over the front seat. He wandered between her thighs at will. Mandy's arms were wrapped around his neck tightly and she whimpered in his ear, trailing soft, hot kisses across his face while slowly and surely he moved the now moistened crotch band of her panties aside still more and teased the wet folds of her warm, slavering vagina.
Her brain screamed that this was wrong-All wrong!-but caught in the emotional agony of sensual desire, the teen-aged girl could only groan and mewl, and sense her unwanted passion and the electrifying shock of his caresses. He parted the sensitive slit of her cunt and teased the soft, surrounding fringe of curls as he made ecstatic contact with her throbbing clitoris.
And then she heard a sibilant hissing sound, the unmistakable sound of a pants fly being unzipped! She could feel that his hand was away from her breast and that he was struggling above her in an effort to lower his trousers.
"Stop it! Stop it!" the girl cried, thrusting her hands against his heavy chest and writhing and kicking, nearly delirious from fear and her last defiant rejection of his advances. "Oh God, get off me! Let me up!"
"Goddamit!" Tony shouted back. "It's too late to back out now, baby!" He refused to remove his middle finger and continued the outrageous rampage of her tender, fearfully squirming cunt. He teased the nub of her bud-like clitoris and his mouth tried to close over Mandy's once more, to choke her cry of protest.
She turned her head and fluttered her eyes open, and a scream came low in her throat. She stared up at this boy whom she had met scant hours before-stared up with shocked horror.
Tony Desmond held his swollen, lust incited penis in his one hand! And he was bearing down with evil concentration, guiding its angry, throbbing head toward her partially naked virginity! It was gigantic to Mandy, larger than the magnified one she had just seen on the screen. How could she take that in her body and enjoy it? She fought him savagely, trying to lock her legs together. Mother, Mother help me! her crazed mind insanely pleaded.
Tony gritted his teeth and pressed on, wailing, "God, Mandy, baby, baby. I need you, I want you, don't you see? Oh God, I'm so excited I'm going to cum, and I want to cum inside you!" He groaned again.
Mandy was unable to stop the boy from pressing the head of his immense penis against the softness of her inner thigh as he endeavored to pull her panties aside or rip them off, or somehow get them somewhere else than over her defenseless little vaginal hole. He desired nothing more than to shove his palpitating cock deep in her pussy and snap her hymen like it was no more than an insensitive twig. She squeezed her thighs together and tried to pull away as he worked the bloated head into her cuntal area. And then Tony groaned in a high-pitched squeal. "Mandy! Mandy, baby, I'm cumming! Oh Jesus, I'm cumming!"
His member jerked uncontrollably against her thigh, and the tender schoolgirl felt a great flood of hot stickiness pour forth and inundate her thighs, her golden fleece of pubic hair, and the innocent, quivering folds of her pussy. Its heat made her think that she was being drowned by the seemingly never-ending torrent of liquid that the boy emitted as he writhed and panted helplessly over her.
They sat in shameful silence in the car after that, and then Mandy buried her head in her hands and cried uncontrollably. Tony, now subdued of his sexual frenzy, was awkward with guilt and shame, and tried to comfort her.
"I'm-I'm sorry, Mandy. Really I am. I don't know what got into me."
"It's my fault, too," the girl sobbed. "I should have stopped you sooner." She realized even in her hysteria that a man's sex drive-and Tony Desmond was physically a man-his sex drive was great, and she hadn't done enough to calm it down, to control it, and was, indeed, partially to blame. She felt soiled and humiliated, as if a thousand insects were invading the very pores of her skin.
"Take me home," she said in a dull voice.
"Mandy-"
"I mean it, Tony. If you won't, I'll get out and walk."
"Look, I'm sorry, I told you. Let's stay and see the rest of the picture anyway."
"No." Her voice was firm.
Tony sighed. He realized he had really blown his chance tonight by being so crude, so fast. He had overestimated, and that made him want this sweet little cherry next to him all that more. He looked at Mandy with contriteness and miserableness-more than he actually felt for his actions. "Well, okay. But ... but I'd like to see you again."
"I-I don't know, Tony. After tonight-"
"It happened. We both got carried away, and it happened."
Mandy thought about it for a few minutes as Tony put the speaker back in place and started the car. Then she turned to him as they drove around the edge of the drive-in, toward the exit, and said:
"All right, Tony. Friends."
Tony grinned, heartily relieved. "Just friends? Not lovers?"
"I like to get acquainted first." She couldn't stay mad at him for long, she mused, not with his crazy way about him. She smiled tentatively. "You know how it is." She touched his cheek gently. "Let's see what happens."
"Sure," the boy said and rubbed his hand comfortingly along her leg. "Sure."
CHAPTER 4
Mandy Simpson, still shaken from her close call with losing her virginity, kissed Tony Desmond quickly and got out of his Mustang. It was still early in the evening, but she was exhausted both mentally and physically and wanted to do nothing more than to go to bed. Alone.
Tony had tried to talk her out of going home, but she persevered, and in spite of his protests, he let her off. She needed the dulling influence of sleep to heal her wounded mind, to ward off the stiff effective alcohol she had consumed, to somehow piece together what had happened and why. The boy had nearly raped her in the drive-in, and had shown her his penis and had ... had ejaculated his semen all over her legs. She was mad and hurt and her head swirled, but now that it was over she knew that it was just the explosion of the moment, and nothing to get permanently psychotic about. As Tony said, it happened, that's all. She still liked him because he looked clean and had spoken nicely to and of her mother, and there were other things, like his clean fingernails and his nice smile and easy good looks.
The house was pitch black. As the exhaust of Tony's car rumbled off in the distance and Mandy walked up the path to the front door, she fervently hoped that her mother was out or asleep. As it was early yet, she figured that her mother was at some corner tavern, getting another skin full, but just in case she was asleep, Mandy let herself in quietly.
There wasn't a sound except her own harsh breath. She began to climb the carpeted stairs to the second floor, holding tight to the railing in the dark. Her mother's bedroom was right on the landing on the top and Mandy trembled a bit as she neared. She hoped that all of the goo Tony had spurted on her thighs and legs was off-she had cleaned herself as best she could in a service station rest room on the way home-and that she hadn't missed any tell-tale stains on her skirt. There was no telling how long she would have to sit and listen to a lecture about sluts if she was caught like this; she wouldn't be able to explain, that was for sure, and her mother would be impossible.
She held her breath tightly as she reached her mother's door-and then noticed the light on from under it. Oh God, Mandy thought, she's awake. I'll have to say goodnight to her or I'll never hear the end of it. Brushing her skirt reflexively, she reached for the doorknob.
A harsh male laugh came from within! Mandy froze.
What was going on in there? Who was with my mother? Bill?
There was a groan and then some harsh slapping sounds. Mandy started to back away, holding her breath and moving as softly as She could.
"Oh God! Ohhhhh, Godddddd!"
That was her mother's voice, slurred in a desperately pleading tone which Mandy had never heard before! The teenager paled and stood still, uncertain what to do. A phone, she thought. Call the police, because there's someone in there hurting my mother.
"Do it! Do it! Do it some more!" her mother chanted.
She was actually begging for it, for whatever torture was being inflicted upon her! Mandy couldn't call the police, not now, not if her mother was wanting whatever was going on. She had to find out ... she took a deep breath and worked her way silently back to the door. Her whole body tensed as she slowly turned the brass knob and felt the door give way.
A thin crack of light rushed in the black hallway as she inched the door open. The light blinded her and she could not see for a moment-but the strange sounds of heavy rushed breathing and squeaking bedsprings and animal grunts continued unabated. Her eyes adjusted to the intensity of the narrow light-and the schoolgirl sucked in her horrified breath!
It was Bill! He was on the bed with her mother, locked between her legs in the lewd embrace of intercourse!
Mandy felt the blood drain from her face and fought to retain her balance and keep from falling backwards. She was certain she was going to faint from the sudden shock of what was unbelievably going on before her eyes. She wanted to rush in the room, to tear the man from her mother's body. A scream welled in her young throat, and she choked it down, along with the impulse to claw and bite until she drove the two rutting animals apart. She tried to blot the scene from her eyes, but she couldn't; she was frozen to the door and could only watch with revulsion at the ravishment of her drunken mother's more than willing body. The foot of the swaying bed was pointed right at the door so that Mandy was able to see the man's thick, hard penis disappearing and re-appearing with each cruel thrust and withdrawal he made in her. Her legs were splayed out wide on either side of his plunging body and periodically would kick high in the air, then fold around the man's driving buttocks, pulling him to her with all her might.
Mandy could see the muscles standing out on her mother's inner thighs as she struggled like a crazed nymphomaniac to get his cock deeper inside. His hands cupped her naked white buttocks with savage strength that cut red bloodless lines into the flaccid, giving flesh. The man squeezed the large, rounded moons together, forcing the walls of her mother's vagina closer around the thickness of his rigid penis. She could see the thinly parted pubic hairs grazing teasingly against the narrow, sperm-filled ridge that ran the full lenth of his shaft.
Mrs. Simpson hungrily slid her hands down her boyfriend's back and came to rest on his glistening, hollowing buttocks. Her fingers spread and whitened from pressure and pulled him gluttonously to her, while below, her cunt flowered open in welcome acceptance. It swallowed the whole of his plunging cock with each greedy upward jerk. Small piteous pleas of passionate supplication began to roll once more from the mother's lips, lewd and horrible words which her horrified daughter had seldom heard except in whispers from the more daring girls in school.
Mandy held her breath again, for the hundredth time since she had climbed the stairs, as she heard the loud slap of naked belly against naked belly and watched her mother being fucked more and more viciously with each passing second. She could see that both her mother and the man, Bill, were puffing wildly and small rivulets of sweat streamed down over their pumping bodies.
And then, suddenly, as suddenly as Tony had cum all over Mandy in the drive-in, it was over.
Mandy heard a low, unearthly gurgle coming from her mother's throat as her buttocks slowed their wild scramble for completion and began small, spasmodic jerks up tight against the penis which was sunk deep in her cunt. At the same time, the man groaned above her and ground hard down, his thick, fleshy cock beginning to throb it's milky white sperm into her quivering belly. For the second time that night, Mandy was horrified to see creamy thick fluid cascade around pink, moist cunt lips, this time running down between her mother's inner thighs and buttocks to puddle on the bedsheets below. The thunder-struck teen-age daughter watched in wild-eyed fright as the man named Bill withdrew his half-deflated penis with a wet sucking noise from her mother's wide-splayed crotch. He lay there, panting, while her mother whimpered and writhed uncontrollably on the bed.
"More ... more, please for the love of God, Bill. Give me more of your hot cock. Ohhh, I'm burning up inside my cunt."
"Jesus Christ, Sybil, give me a rest," Bill wheezed. "That's the third time tonight, and I'm about done in."
"I got to have more fucking...." moaned Mandy's mother.
"Yeah, you will, you will. Don't worry, you crazy nympho."
Suddenly Mandy could stand it no longer. She turned and stumbled blindly down the hallway. Tears of abject hurt and humiliation rolled down her cheeks, smearing the light coat of mascara she had applied after her session with Tony.
Her mother-a crazy nymphomaniac! A whore, rolling on her bed-on her husband's bed-with another bar-fly ass like some gutter tramp!
Mandy threw herself down on the comforting pillows of her bed. Some mother! Always lecturing her on not being a slut, on watching out for hands and lips, always giving out with the crap about how pure she was and what a cheap bastard her run-away husband was. Bullshit! It was all a bunch of hypocrisy! She was out there screwing someone else, not Mandy's father!
Mandy sat up, her torment crystallizing into white-hot fury. Her tiny hands clenched into iron fists of resentment. I'll show her, she thought furiously. I'll show her all about fucking guys. Try and bullshit me, will she?
Why should my mother have all the fun? Why shouldn't her daughter? Her sweet, naive daughter who fought off a guy she wanted like crazy tonight, just because she was stupid enough to believe what her lousy whoring mother taught her? Well, that was going to end. Next time Tony tries something, I'm going to let him do whatever he wants! I'm going to let him fuck me good ... just like that sonofabitch Bill was doing to her! I'm going to let Tony put that cock of hit all the way up in me. I'm going to lose my virginity ... and to hell with what my bitch mother thinks. I want to get fucked!
CHAPTER 5
Mrs. Simpson knew that there was something wrong when her daughter came to breakfast in a sullen, petulant mood. She couldn't understand why, and moreover she felt wonderful herself and didn't want Mandy to spoil her own fine fettle. Bill had been a wonderful lover last night, better than he usually was, and she smiled as she stood over the stove and waited for the coffee to perk.
The thought of his savage cock slamming into her made her both warm and shivery at the same time, and a tingle of anticipation went through her. Bill was going to be at his apartment, waiting for her after she got off work tonight. Yes ... and he'd be waiting like he always was, holding out a nice cold drink and wearing nothing at all....
She didn't like the fact that she had let him fuck her in her own house last night-what if Mandy had seen them?-that made her involuntarily shudder. But she'd had a little bit too much at the "Green Gourd," where they'd gone for a drink or two. In fact, she'd become downright squirmy, and when she had a good toot going, there was no stopping her. Ah well, it had turned out all right. Bill had left before Mandy had gotten home.
Mrs. Simpson frowned. Speaking of that, her mind went on, when did Mandy get home? She hadn't heard her, though after Bill had finished screwing her toenails off, she was ready for nothing but hibernation.
The woman turned, studying her still sullen child as the girl sat hunched over the breakfast table. None of the cereal had been touched. Exasperated at Mandy, piqued for no real reason except that her daughter's attitude seemed to bother her own well-being, she put her hand on her hip and said in a sharp tone, "When did you get in, Mandy?"
Mandy glared at her mother. Bitch. Tramp. She cursed her under her breath. God damn whore!
"I asked you a question, young lady!"
"After twelve," Mandy said. She didn't want to tell the actual time she was home, for then her mother might suspect that she knew-and Mandy wasn't ready yet to spring that little surprise package. She wanted to wait until just the right moment.
"There's twelve hours after twelve. What time?"
"One-thirty."
"Liar!" Mrs. Simpson knew it couldn't have been then, because Bill was still banging away at one-thirty, and of course Mandy wasn't home until after Bill had gone. But the word had slipped from her lips, for Mandy had to be a liar to say one-thirty. She thought fast. "I was out of pills so I was awake."
"If you know so much, then why ask me?"
"You snotty little bitch! Talk to your mother that way, will you!" Mrs. Simpson lashed out and slapped her daughter soundly across the mouth. "You were out all night, weren't you? With that greasy good-for-nothing, getting your kicks!"
"Don't you hit me again!" Mandy screamed, jumping to her feet, hatred and pain and shame forming stinging tears in her eyes. "I'm warning you never to hit me no more!"
"You're threatening me!" Mrs. Simpson's face became a sickly pale. "You threatened your own mother!"
"I didn't do anything of the sort!"
"I oughta take your clothes away and lock you in your room for three months until school starts!"
"Just try it," Mandy retorted. "Anyway, what's it with you? You were busy."
"What do you mean by that crack?"
"That-that you went out, I bet. With Bill, drinking again."
"Because I can't sit here alone at night, that's why! Little Mandy Simpson, who can't spend an evening at home with her sick mother, goes out and-"
"Cut it out!" wailed Mandy, totally at her limit. The utter crap that she was hearing made her want to gag on the spot! Her sick mother, home alone! It was enough to make Mandy laugh at her, to tell her exactly what the truth was ... but Mandy was too choked up, too distraught to do it then. The words would have come out in a jumble of incoherency, a froth of anger and hatred, and she didn't want that to happen. She wanted it to come later, slowly, so she could savor each word and tell her mother exactly what she had caused her daughter to do-and that would be later, after Tony had had his way.
Mandy fled from the kitchen, tears streaming down her bruised face, her mother screaming for her to stop. She ran out of the house, flinging the door back so hard it banged against the side of the porch. "Slut!" her mother yelled after her. "Good for nothing slut!"
The next door neighbor looked up from watering his lawn; Mandy didn't give a damn about him or anybody else who might have heard the altercation. She ran as fast as she could, down the street, down the next one and then around the corner, and came panting up to Liz Bradley's front door. She rang the bell frantically as though her monster-mother was hotly pursuing. Mr. Bradley came to the door. He was still in his bathrobe.
"Why, Mandy! Come in. I-"
"Please, Mr. Bradley. Can I see Liz?"
"Well, she got in a little late last night and I think she's still asleep."
"I must talk to her! I must!"
* * *
The afternoon traffic along Broadway moved with a long string of tourists as they piled up at the traffic lights. The lights would change and then the cars would roll sluggishly toward the east and the freeway.
At one intersection, where the road curved slightly, was Sharkey's, a redwood and field-stone building with an outside patio and a dozen small tables and chairs. Sharkey's served hamburgers and hot-dogs which were grilled over a charcoal fire, and although the menu was limited, every item offered was good, and most of the tables and booths both inside and out on the patio were full.
Tony and Gil were already there when Mandy and Liz appeared. Mandy had told Liz everything that morning-that's what good friends are for, aren't they?-and Liz had confided that she had gone out with Gil the previous night:
"Anything happen?" Mandy had asked her teen-age friend, looking directly in Liz's eyes.
Liz had grinned coyly and pointed to where her Levis were thrown over a chair. "Those pants," she said, "come in real virtuous sometimes."
"Don't I know it," Mandy had replied. "Better than slacks."
"You bet."
"We just messed around a bit." Liz had shrugged. "Nothing serious, nothing like what happened to you."
Liz had gotten out of bed and dressed, put her hair up in curlers and then ate breakfast and all the while she and Mandy had discussed the situation.
"I've a date for tonight with Gil," Liz had told her. "Tell you what. I'll see if I can find Gil's telephone number-St. John isn't too common a name-and get him to call Tony. We can make it a double."
She had, the boys agreed, and now the four of them were together in the booth at Sharkey's, where they had agreed to meet.
"Hi," Liz said. "Waiting long?"
Gil glanced lazily at his watch. "Five minutes."
"Hello, Mandy," Tony said quietly. "You look swell."
"You look swell, too," Mandy replied warm with friendship. Neither of them wore anything different than when they had first met on the beach, but it was still nice to say.
"Want a burger?" Gil asked.
"I'm hungry enough to eat two," Liz said.
"I could eat six of these," boasted Tony good-naturedly.
They laughed; the boys ordered for them, and they spent the next half hour joking and talking and generally having a good time. "How about some pie?" Tony asked when they'd had their fill of the hamburgers. "They've got some good apple pie here."
"I shouldn't," Liz said wistfully.
"Go ahead," Gil coaxed.
"I'll share it with you," offered Mandy.
"This is all baby fat," Gil said, squeezing Liz's shoulder. "A couple of years it'll go away and you'll be missing all the pie you never ate."
"Su-ure," Liz said.
"True!" Gil opened his wallet and showed Liz a picture of himself taken a few years back. He stood self-consciously in a sports jacket and light trousers, and the figure was round with a cherubic face. "See the way I was?"
"Hey, you were cute, Gil," Liz said.
"Lemme see." Mandy extended her right hand.
"Were you going out with girls then?" Liz asked, passing the wallet to her girl friend.
"Some." Gil looked at Mandy. "What do you think?"
Mandy shook her head noncommittally, because she was concentrating on the picture but thinking of something else. There was the more than quarter-inch layer of bills laying in the wallet, which explained the boy's unconcern for paying: for the lunch yesterday, the meal now, the date with Liz last night, and the plans for later on tonight. Even if the bills were only ones, there must have been thirty, forty, maybe fifty dollars there, and if they were fives or tens-why he was carrying a large bundle of cash with him!
"You sure knew you were having your picture taken, I'll say that," Mandy said smiling, and handed the wallet back.
Gil smiled and Mandy wondered whether he had noticed her preoccupation with the money, but she couldn't read the answer in his eyes. Unless Gil was rich, which wasn't- likely, the money had to have been come by dishonestly, and for some strange reason that made the teenage girl shiver delightfully with apprehension. But then, Gil had started that fight on the beach, and if his money couldn't stand examination, why did he take such a risk?
"So what did you have in mind for tonight?" Liz asked Gil, bringing Mandy back to the present.
"How about a motel?" he answered, grinning.
"Subtle, aren't you?" Liz snapped.
"That doesn't sound so hot," Mandy said. "I'd like some real excitement tonight. How about it? Really blow the scene."
Tony thought for a minute. "Sure. We'll do the town."
"But no motel," Liz added. "And no movies," Mandy threw in as a secret dig.
"No movies," Tony repeated, laughing. He started sliding out of the booth. "Since you girls want to really step, we've got a lot of territory to cover. Let's go."
They covered a great deal of territory, for Surfside was for tourists, and that meant good-times after the ocean and sun shut down. The four were under age, but that didn't hinder their action at all, for there were certain clubs and dancing joints where you had to be under twenty-one before they'd let you in. Places where cheap bourbon whiskey was sold at premium prices in coffee cups and you brought your own mix, and then later, after official closing at two A.M., they became after-hours clubs and the price of the liquor doubled. The cops had to be paid their graft money somehow, and the managements weren't in the business for charity.
But what the hell; Tony and Gil had the money. And they spent it high, wide, and handsome.
Just before midnight the foursome were in the King's Club, dancing out on the small round floor to the music of "The Mobsters." The music was loud, full of drums and electronic organ and two guitars and occasionally one of the guitarists would blow a sax or trumpet. They played the latest rock hits, raising the roof in the cellar club, filling the little red-plush-and-white-paint room with a cacophony of screeches and thumps. They did a final chorus of "Venus," made famous originally by The Shocking Blue, and then swung into the slower "Yellow River" with nary a pause.
Mandy was sweating almost as much as the musicians were. "Whew! I got to sit this one out!" she said, panting, and grasping Tony's hand the blonde young girl made her way through the dancing throng to where the four had their drinks. The table was low and narrow, like a child's table before he's old enough to sit at the regular one, and the chairs were almost in miniature. She flopped down in hers and waved her hand for a cooling breeze.
Seconds later the two youngsters were joined by Gil and Liz in equally a state of exhaustion.
"Good group," Gil wheezed, sitting down. He took his coffee cup and drained the amber fluid. "Ahh," he said, smacking his lips. "Great stuff."
Mandy took another swallow of hers. It was rough and it was straight, but she didn't mind. She had consumed enough before coming to the King's Club so that now very little mattered. Besides, she had worked up a thirst dancing, and the cool liquid actually tasted good as it hit her stomach.
"Another?" Tony asked.
She shook her head. "No."
"Come on," he urged. "It'll put you in the swing of things."
"Already am," she replied. She was: The club moved in a parallel orbit to her wide eyes and most of the dancers were indistinct or at least fuzzy around the edges. And there was a new odor in the close little rock shop, a sharp, acrid, somewhat sweet odor which caused her to wrinkle her nose.
"What's that smell?" she said to Tony.
"Somebody's getting kicks," he replied, smiling.
"What?" Mandy didn't understand. "Never mind." Then to Gil he said, "Get four."
Gil nodded and started rising. Liz caught his sleeve. "Where are you going, Gil?"
"Play dog respects to a tree," Gil grinned. "Be right back." He leaned over and cupped Liz's left breast quickly and then before she could react one way or the other, he was walking towards the men's room at the far side of the club.
"They can really play," Mandy leaned to touch Tony's arm.
"Play? Man, they're the best!" He started pounding his hands on the table top, his eyes shut and his mouth pursed so that he could doo-de-doo along with the song. "The spirit!" he cried. "They're in the spirit!"
"So am I," Mandy said.
"Way in the spirit?" he chanted, snapping his fingers.
The liquor made Mandy feel good and she embraced Tony. "So far in that you'd better hold me down if n you don't want me to drop outa sight!"
They kissed, kissed again and harder, and then kissed still more. His hot, wet lips seemed to be her total world at that point, her one and only object, and she almost fell over from the electric spark of excitement which surged through her at his contact.
"All right, break it up!" Gil said as he sat back down. He turned to Liz. "Miss me?"
"Uhhuh. Nothin' to do except watch these two lovers making out," she mock pouted. "Kiss me."
"Inna minute. First I got something better." He opened his hand and showed four slim cylinders, four hand-rolled cigarettes made of brown paper. He grinned and then passed them around. "Light up," he said.
The girls looked at the cigarette and then at themselves, and without speaking they knew that they had to make a decision about these, about another first time, and although they knew about kids who smoked marijuana, they hesitated-because this was something dark and of unknown consequences.
Tony lit his cigarette and held his match for Mandy. "What's the matter? Don't you know the score?"
"I-I never smoked one before," she said. She wished now that the music would stop drumming in her head and that she hadn't taken so many cups of "coffee" because she wasn't thinking clearly and the club was becoming warm, awfully warm and pressed down on her forehead and eyes.
"A little grass never hurt nobody," Gil said. He pulled long on his marijuana cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs. The acrid, tainted smell was thick and cloying to the girls.
Mandy looked at the cigarette held between her fingers again, and the high shrill voice of her mother screamed:
"Slut!"
Ever so distinctly she heard her mother. And then she visualized her, heaving and mewling on her marital bed with Bill, of her hungry vagina clasping the man's huge cock as though it was a child's mouth around the world's last banana.
A decent mother wouldn't call her daughter a slut for no good reason, wouldn't allow a booze-hound ass to maul her, wouldn't act so goddamned haughty and pure....
"Come on," Tony urged. "Light up. Once you're high you'll see and hear and feel things you never did before."
Mandy saw her friend, Liz, lean her head with a cigarette between her lips toward Gil, who grinned and held the match. Then Liz drew hard and the paper and the roughly packed tobacco glowed brightly.
"It's like an ordinary cigarette, only without a filter," Liz said to Mandy, her voice triumphant that she had been the first of the two to try the new experience.
"I'm waiting." Tony lit another match.
Mandy put the marijuana cigarette between her lips and lit it from the match. "Tastes lousy," she said.
"Draw easy for awhile. Give it a chance, baby, and you won't settle for anything else."
Liz coughed. "I don't feel anything."
"You will," Gil promised her.
Mandy inhaled deeply again and held her breath, letting the smoke swirl in her lungs until she thought she was going to pop. She let the smoke out and Tony laughed. "That's it. That's the way if you want to get stoned."
A waiter hovered over the table. Gil ordered another round of "coffee, black" and when it arrived, Tony paid for the four cups of whiskey.
"Gimme that," Mandy said, reaching for her cup. "This stuff makes me thirsty."
"This is all right," Liz said, smiling at Gil and Tony. "It's allll riiiiigghhhhht." She giggled in a high squeak.
"Glad you like it," Tony said expansively. "Drink up and smoke up. We've barely begun rollin'! "
Toward the end of the marijuana cigarette Mandy began to float and knew she must be floating because she felt so good like never before and she was without a care in the world as she floated on up, up to the ceiling. She was so light and nimble that as the band played she was able to skip from note to note even if they were riffs or sixteenths, and Mandy thought that the dim red bulb inside the bass drum was really the coagulated blood of some dead player. She applauded and her hands seemed to be far away, about ten miles from her arms and this made her laugh. She had to laugh, and the little grass that she'd smoked had nothing to do with whether something was funny or not-or did it?
Gil passed a new joint to Tony after he returned from another buying session in the men's bathroom. "The girls are stoned."
"Better believe it, man. And on one stick, too." Tony turned to Mandy and embraced her and his hand slid down into the wide neck of her blouse. "How's it going, baby?"
"like I'm on the moon," Mandy breathed in his ear. "I never felt so good. I want another." She placed her hand on her blouse and squeezed his roving fingers.
"And how about you, Liz?" Gil asked.
It was difficult for Liz to focus, but she managed to hold her head still by pressing against her jaws and she peered gravely at the two older boys, who watched back with amused expressions, "Two people with four heads," she said slowly. "Lover-boy always had two heads, but yours, Tony, yours is new." She giggled again, her voice high and piercing. "Weee! Gimme another, lover-boy!"
"Keep your voice down," Gil warned. "The fuzz will be around after us."
This also struck the girls funny. "What's a li'le ol' fuzzy-wuzzy trouble anyway?" Liz cried out, and the left head on Tony's shoulders turned into an elephant's trunk and waved in the air. "Everybody down here is stoned!" She inhaled deeply. "Man, I can get high on the smell alone!"
Gil stood up. "I think we better be going." He looked significantly at Tony as a large, heavy-set man with a lantern jaw and overdeveloped shoulders and chest started across from the bar toward their table, his face clearly -lined with annoyance.
"We're leaving," Tony said to the man.
"Right. Sounds like a good idea," the man said.
"I wanna stay!" Mandy cried.
"Me too!" her girl friend chimed in.
Gil brushed Liz's chin with his open hand. "C'mon, Liz. Let's move on." He said it with gentle insistence. "We got lots of places to go to yet."
"Are we being thrown out, Tony?" Mandy asked indignantly.
"Of course not," the man grinned, showing his teeth, sharp and pearly white. "Just a little fresh air, that's all, miss."
"They're on their first," Tony said apologetically.
The man nodded. "Got enough for the road?"
"Get more," Gil prompted. "I'm going to need some before long."
"Yeah," Tony said, and peeled off a couple of bills. The man handed him a half-dozen cigarettes. Tony put them in his pocket. "You'll get them in the car," he said to Mandy as she tried to grab for his pocket. "Now let's move."
The fresh air hit the two teen-age girls like a wet towel in the face. They staggered and held onto the side of the building for support. "Look at them, will you?" Tony said. "Yeah. Big time." Tony nodded. "Very."
"Must have been around a lot."
"For years and years."
Mandy clung to Tony for support and tried to look angry, but the boy kept changing from one to two, then four, then five, then three. Then the boys and Liz moved in and out of each other and the marijuana made her light and giddy and when she tried to think angrily she couldn't, not even of her mother, and she began to laugh.
"I like you," she said to Tony, and embraced him, kissing him on the side of the jaw. "Now where are we going to go?"
"Let's go steady," Liz threw in.
"Good idea," Gil agreed. He tried to put both arms around her and draw the girl to him.
"Uh-uh," she said, pushing his hands away. "Not on the street. Gives a girl a bed reputrepureputashun."
"Who you?" Gil grinned. "Naw!"
"We wanna go someplace," chanted Mandy. "Don't we, Liz?"
"Yeah, only no motel. Even though I like it, no motel tonight. I feel real gone," she added, "real gone."
"Let's go, then," Gil said to Tony. "We got that job to do."
"We better take them home first."
"Hell, no. They wanted to see us spend money, then let them see how we earn it." They got to the green Mustang, and Tony propped the potted little girl against the fender so he could unlock the front door.
"Hell, it wasn't much, and I'm splitting it with you," Gil protested. "I don't want them to get in any jam."
"They ain't going to get in any jam." Tony stared at his friend, the grin still around his mouth, but his eyes were pulled close and in the dim light sparkled with malevolence. "What's the matter, you getting chicken?"
"Christ, no!"
"Then get in. We're doing the trick, just as we planned, and they're coming along. And then later...."
The boy started to snicker, and Gil, catching the meaning of what lay in store for "later," grinned and started to chuckle too.
CHAPTER 6
It had been a good season, Tony Desmond thought as he drove. It was a snap as long as you kept your wits about you and only knocked over a store now and then so that the fuzz never got the idea of how you operated.
Anyway, that's how it had to be if you were going to be a member of the gang, The Demon Friars. Pot, girls, action-they cost money, and the only way a kid could get that kind of money and still stay cool was by heisting. Only way, man.
He and Gil had been laying low the last few weeks, though. They'd read about some kids from a neighboring town who'd been picked up by the cops after holding up a service station, and Gil had known two of the five kids who'd been arrested recently in Los Angeles. Then there'd been the Supermarket Monster, as the rags called him, who held up supermarkets dressed in black leather pants, boots, shirt, and a black crash helmet with a scarlet lightning decoration over the skull. The police finally ran the monster down; put a bullet through the crash helmet. It turned out the monster was an innocent looking guy who used to hang around the county sheriffs substation, and had been known as nothing special. Anyway, he was dead and no longer news. But the afternoon he was shot in his last, abortive hold up, Tony had looked at the photograph of him sprawled across the sidewalk, looked at it carefully and then crumpled up the newspaper. He and Gil had spoken to the rest of the Demon Friars and they had all decided to go on a small vacation.
But the cash reserve was getting thin; the girls had seen to that tonight. Now they had to do a job, and with the alcohol and marijuana coursing through his brain and blood, Tony was all hot for it. It would be a pushover, a snap, a liquor store on the east edge of town which looked as though it did a good business.
"Coupla hundred, you think?" Gil said.
"Easy." Tony grinned at his friend. "A natural, I'd say, a natural."
Tony drove with Mandy's head in his lap. and Liz rested against the back of the rear seat. There was a feeling of depression, and Mandy's stomach was a knot of nausea. "Whatcha gonna do, Tony?" she asked. "What's this about a job?"
"Never mind, Mandy." Tony reached in his pocket and gave her another stick. "Here. Sit up and smoke. That'll make you feel better." He knew that she was experiencing the sickness of one's first narcotic experience; he didn't want her to get sick, not now, not while he was pulling a job. Maybe Gil had been right and they should have taken the girls home. But then he wouldn't have been able to follow up the robbery the way he liked, by fucking some girl until his cock was ready to fall off. Even as he thought of that, he glanced at the now smoking young teenager beside him and his penis jerked in his pants. Hot damn, she was going to be a wild piece, he could tell. And after last night, he knew that she was ready. She wanted him, he knew it, and he was going to shove it to her as soon as the job was over.
The car neared the liquor store and Tony turned back to the task on hand. Blood drained from his face as the prickly sensations along his spine took over-the preface to danger. Danger? Hell no; kicks! That's what they were: kicks!
Tony stopped the car in front of the store and reached for the hidden bracket under the dashboard. "Nobody's in there except the owner." He passed a thirty-eight snub-nose revolver to Gil. "Here. It's your turn to back up."
Gil slipped the cold, ominous metal of the gun in his Levi pocket, letting the grip hang out. As he moved the seat forward, Mandy, who had been lost in her own dream-world of marijuana turned and said to Gil, "Gonna get some more juice? Is that it?"
"Yeah, baby," Tony said, already out of the car. "Stay here."
"I wanna get out," Liz groaned from the back seat.
"Lay still," Gil ordered.
"I'm sick, lover. Gil? Where are you, Gil?"
"Here, dammit," Tony snapped, and threw a marijuana stick at the girl. "This'll cure you. Now stay here, got it?"
"Sure, Tony, sure." Liz hastily searched her purse for a light. "I'll be fine now."
The two boys started across the cracked sidewalk....
Happi-Tyme Liquor store was two blocks off the main boulevard leading down the coast, and by being off the boulevard the rent was less but the store was still close enough to get the main traffic as well as the neighborhood trade. And because its owner, Bernie Perkins, was a pleasant man who enjoyed saying hello to people, he did a good trade with repeat customers.
He was unpacking a case of Fleishmann's rye when he heard a car pull up. He straightened and turned and saw the two boys leave the car and approach the store. His lips compressed in disapproval. Some liquor stores winked at the law and sold to minors, but not Happi-Tyme.
"Sorry boys," Perkins said when they entered. "Can't sell you anything."
Gil pointed the gun at him.
"Open the register," Tony ordered.
Perkins stared at the boys and then at the gun. Never before had he been robbed, but he'd thought of it just as every storekeeper had. Now he knew, and he did nothing but stare at the ominous muzzle of the blue barrel pointed at his middle and feel his armpits sweat.
"C'mon, pops. Move," Tony said.
"Sure." Perkins wet his lips, his voice a whisper. "Sure, boys. Anything you say, boys."
He stepped backwards cautiously, his eyes focused on the muzzle. Tony followed him behind the counter and pushed the old man toward the cash register.
"Hurry up!"
"Careful, just be careful." Perkins trembled as he punched the no-sale key and the cash drawer opened. "Careful with that gun,-boys."
Tony smiled as he saw the neat layers of bills in the drawer and scooped them out and stuffed them in his pockets. "Fine," he said to Gil, then to the storeowner he ordered: "Put your hands on the counter."
Perkins obeyed. Tony took a long pocket knife out and cut the telephone cord. Then Gil started backing out of the store, pistol still aimed at the owner's stomach, and Tony, beside his friend warned, "Don't move, don't yell, and there won't be any trouble."
"Sure," Perkins nodded rapidly. "Sure."
All the while Mandy was staring out of the side window. She was frightened, but the cold claws of her terror didn't penetrate the effects of the marijuana. In the back seat Liz was laughing, but it wasn't normal laughter, kid's laughter because Liz was really stoned. This had gone too far, a small portion of Mandy's mind screamed. Too far! Far worse than being drunk, for a kid who got drunk and staggered around and did stupid things could be thrown in a shower or drink lots of coffee and get straightened out. But grass was different.
The teen-aged girl knew that she had been high, then down, and with the second cigarette she had just finished, was high again. She felt great while she was on it, but during that low she felt as if she didn't have any bounce, as though she was up to her ankles in clinging mud. And not too long ago she" had seen a picture in the papers of a kid her age in New York City who was found nude, no clothes around anywhere, crawling around her back yard and moaning. She'd screamed and battled the cops before they could cart her off to some hospital. The cops said she was on grass....
Mandy saw the fat man's face freeze in a sick expression of fear when Tony and Gil had entered the liquor store, had seen the trembling fingers as he punched the keys of the register and as the drawer hit him in the stomach. Time had become nothing, a bar of long-drawn lead to her, as the girl saw her boyfriend scoop up the bills and then sever the telephone cord. And the gun, that horrible blue-black piece of steel, all the while pointed at the liquor store owner, who stared with horrified fascination at the possible instrument of his death.
Mandy sat stonily and stared open-faced at Tony as he and Gil clambered in the Mustang. The three of them were jerked backwards by the violent acceleration as Tony slammed the car first into low and then into drive.
"You-"
"It's nothing, baby," Tony laughed. He drove rapidly but not recklessly, through a maze of side streets until he reached the road leading to the beach.
In the back seat, Liz was alone, flopping around uncontrollably as the car surged around corners, and all the time shrieking hysterically with laughter.
"So that's how Gil got the money in his wallet," Mandy said. And then, on account of the marijuana, she thought it was funny. "Ha ha! What a blast!" It was over! It was over, and they'd gotten away with it, and wasn't that a ball? The tide of relief rolled out of her chest with overwhelming release.
"Yeah, baby, that's why we do it! For the kicks!" Tony grinned at her. "And to get a few things we want."
"You seem to do just fine," Mandy said. "Not hungry."
"We like to have plenty. The whole gang-likes plenty." Tony whooped suddenly. "And what the hell, the people are covered by insurance. Nobody gets hurt except the insurance companies! Everybody knows that!"
"But suppose you get caught?"
"We won't," Tony said with self assurance which sounded to Mandy as either stupidity or braveness, and at the moment she didn't care which. "We don't do it often, and never in the same neighborhood."
Mandy made a thick, derisive noise with her tongue.
"Honest. We knew it was going to be all right," Gil added. "Tony and me been watching that place for a long time. We knew he didn't do much business on weekday nights around now, and if there had been customers there, we wouldn't have gone in."
"You've got guts, lover-boy!" Liz screamed from the back seat. "Woo-eee! This is living!" She started cackling some more.
"I know!" Gil said, and then, snapping his fingers and behaving as if a sudden thought had hit him, "Let's go to the beach!"
"What the hell for?" Liz asked. "Why some crummy beach? I want to get going! Some action, lover-boy!"
"Not for a while," Tony said. "See, the liquor store owner will be yelling cop by now, and the heat will be on something fierce." He turned and grinned at Mandy. "And the fuzz will be checking out all the clubs, looking for kids with a fistful of money."
"But-but aren't those clubs illegal?" Mandy asked. "I mean, if the cops don't know about them in the first place, how can they check up on who's there spending a lot?"
"Ha ha ha," chortled Gil, "Get Miss Innocent."
"Sure the clubs are illegal, baby, but the cops take a little pin money to not notice such things. But they also know that those are the places where kids will head after a job, so part of the deal is that the owners will notify the cops and the cops keep stakeouts undercover, and bam! the kids get picked up."
"But we ain't stupid," Gil said. "We lay low for a few days afterwards, see, and then everything dies down, and we spend a little here, a little there, and nobody's the wiser."
"You-you got any more cigarettes we can smoke at the beach?" Liz asked.
"Sure, and a little old bottle of joy juice, too. We'll have our own party, girls!" Tony stroked Mandy's knee. "Our own private little party, and there won't be anybody around to stop the fun!"
They drove down the coast highway, past the winking lights of Surfside. The miles drifted by in a haze of smoke for the teen-age girl, for Tony had given Mandy another marijuana joint to suck on while he drove. The car's headlights illuminated a marker which warned of a side road, and Tony swung onto the narrow lane and followed the gravel and tar road its full length, down to the hard shelf of the beach. The parking area was deserted.
"Christ, we're at the end of the world," Mandy said.
"We found this place when we were out in an outboard one day. Had a hell of a time finding it again." Tony got out and took the keys to the trunk of the Mustang, where he produced two blankets. "Here, Gil. One for you to lie on," he said, throwing his friend one.
Mandy had a sudden chill hit the pit of her stomach. Was this going to be it? Was Tony going to try to make love on the blanket? No ... no, that couldn't happen, not with the four of them there. She followed the two boys-Liz a stumbling fourth-down the narrow path and then down some steep facings to the beach. They walked along the shore a bit more to where an outcropping of rock made the sand below it very dark and private.
"Here," Gil said. "This here's fine for me."
The two boys laid out the blankets and sat down, cross legged like Indians. Tony patted a spot beside him and said to Mandy, "Sit down, baby. You want a bottle or a joint?"
"A little of both," she replied and plopped heavily on the blanket. She should have been more cautious, she guessed; first the hold up, now this-but the grass inside her had made everything they did fun and all right. It felt good, sitting out here on the quiet beach, staring at the silent stars. A bottle was passed to her-the same Coke bottle as she had drunk from last night?-who knows? who cared?-she rested her young chin on her drawn-up knees and gazed at the ghostly white plumes of the waves. The rest was blackness, deep and impenetrable, and when the riding lights of a ship appeared far off on the horizon, the pinpoint of light added to the lonesome depth of the night. She leaned against Tony to let him know she was happy and at peace with the world ... nothing was important now, not with the delicious warmth of the alcohol and the marijuana in her. She could feel the different drugs tingling deep inside her ... deeper than she had ever felt anything in her life.
Tony rolled on his back and lay with his eyes on the sky. "It's fun getting a jag on. You can lie on the beach and there's nothing to do but lay around and have a ball."
"The stars are sure bright tonight," Mandy commented, lying next to him and cuddling.
The boy's arm went around her. "Real bright." he said, kissing her cheek.
There was a long pause and then she heard the unmistakable rustling of clothing as Gil and Liz sunk to their blanket. The breathing was heavy and there was the soft, wet sounds of kissing and moans. The smoking and the drinking made the sounds of petting close to her become a thing of beauty to the teen-age girl, and Mandy felt her own breasts tingling with excitement. She waited in nervous anticipation to see what her own emotions would do next. Mandy felt too closely identified with her girl friend writhing in building passion and knew there was a danger point from which there was no turning back.
Last night that point had almost been reached. After seeing her mother in bed with Bill, she had vowed to let that point be reached and passed. But Liz was right beside her, not more than a few feet from her, and while a little necking was okay-God knew they'd been on enough double dates together where such things were done-the idea of being made love to, of being bared and then Tony on top of her, was impossible. It would have to be another night, when it was just the two of them....
She sat up and drank from the coke bottle and took another long pull on the cigarette. The warm, relaxing smoke curled down in her lungs, easing her mind of fear at the passion which might be started in her own body. She snuggled back against Tony then, the blanket bunching against her thighs. Its pressure excited the sensitive pink lips of her vagina, and tiny throbs pulsed in the bud of her clitoris and she bit her lower lip to hold back the first small teasers of forbidden pleasure.
She could not resist Tony's hand as he moved beneath her back and up to cup the softness of her firm, young breast. He trapped the budding nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger as he had on the previous night, and the nipple stiffened and swelled under his massaging hand and tweaking fingers. She squirmed, hoping that Liz could not see what Tony was doing.
All thought of conversation was lost, for now Tony had rolled over and was kissing her, hard, his tongue worming between her soft, pliant lips and deep in her tender mouth, and she in turn shuddered under the impact. She raised her hands, holding them out in indecision for a moment and then dropped them to curl around the boy's heaving chest.
There was a groan from beside her, and in surprise, Mandy tore her eyes open and looked over at where Liz and Gil were. It was obscene! Liz had her legs spread wide, the top button of her Levi's undone and an inch or so of the zipper down. Gil's hand was inside her pants, rummaging around between her thighs, and Liz was shuddering as the outline of his fingers moved under the denim material, obviously unaware of anything except those fingers.
A warning bell sounded in Mandy's brain, but it was too far off, too dulled by the fog of alcohol and drugs to be heard distinctly. She labored, gasped for breath and squirmed harder in the sand, pushing the now wet, swollen lips of her vagina against the blanket to try and put out the fire burning there. Tony kissed her harder, and his hands palpated her swollen breast, filling her with both fear and excitement. Again the virgin girl tried to pull his hand away-but her own fingers moved only as far as Tony's-and then fell back around his body. They would not obey her mind's commands, and she could only close her glassy eyes and submit. Tony began fumbling with her bra snaps.
Her forehead was covered with beads of sweat and another trickle ran down between her full, almost-woman's breasts. The teen-age girl's nerves were shattered and her brain whirled in indecision. She knew she should demand to go home, that things were happening a little too fast and that the marijuana had loosened both hers and Liz's control a little too much. She had already gone too far in allowing Tony to squeeze and knead her breasts-for now he had snaked the brassiere off and there was nothing in the way of his probing fingers except the thin nylon of her blouse. Surely Liz wouldn't go any further with Gil, and Mandy's face crimsoned in the dark as she thought of the boy's fingers digging wetly between her girl friend's thighs. The lewd thought sent another electric tingle deep into her belly and she could feel the seeping moisture of her own pussy increasing. Her heart beat like a tom-tom, and she was sure Tony could feel it beneath her tight breast in his hand.
Tony's hand came to rest on her lap, and she tried to lift her knee to block it, but he moved his fingers insinuatingly closer to her thigh tops, kneading the softness of her belly under the pulled-out hem of her blouse. She froze at the unexpected boldness and at the crawling, insect-like contact over her flesh. Her eyes once more went to the panting couple on the other blanket, to see if Liz had spied Tony's hand moving along her thigh. She had obviously not, for she had her pants all the way unzipped-unzipped and down around her knees-and her panties were down now too! Mandy sucked in her breath as she viewed her near-nude girl friend. She felt as if she could reach out and touch Liz.
Liz wouldn't have felt that touch; her head was rolling back and forth on the blanket, her face contorted in ecstasy. And Gil's hands were flying in the black, thin young curls of her vaginal hair, and in response the teen-age girl had bent her legs outward to allow him full access between her thighs. It was different than the movie, Mandy confusedly thought, different than even when she had viewed her mother doing it with her boyfriend-this was Liz! Mandy tried to blot out the shocking picture but couldn't. She continued to look at the obscene spectacle, mesmerized as this boy toyed with the naked, squirming pussy of the girl who was her best friend.
Surely Gil would go no further! But then her thoughts came back to the teasing fingers rotating against the mound of her own sex, unable to slip lower because of her tightly closed thighs. Mandy pressed harder against the sand, hoping that Tony would think she was trying to escape his touch and stop, and not suspect that secretly she was pressing the blanket into her wet, vaginal slit. The flood between her thighs was wetting her pants and she felt the warmness on the soft cheeks of her buttocks as she pressed down harder to feed the pleasure building there. As his fingers worked more firmly at her loins, the pleasure rationalized away the indecision and feeling of danger. It was wickedly good ... only pleasure and not danger. She closed her eyes tightly and resigned herself to the rising sensations coursing through her body, for Tony had not gotten into her Levi's-wouldn't either, she dully promised herself.
Then the boy's hand searched like a tiny curious mouse in the crevice of her buttocks, and the teen-age virgin hesitated, not knowing what to do. If she made a protest, cried out a "no!" or even moved to push him away with the violence necessary to do it, her breasts would become exposed to Gil and Liz and they would know what she had been doing, and they would overhear in the silence which had dropped down on the beach.
The boy's fingers ruthlessly teased her vagina, probing at her moist slit through her Levi's and sheer, white panties. There was no more she could do without creating a scene, and so Mandy resigned herself almost with relief to Tony's sneaky probing of her already wet genitals.
She squirmed, a blush of shame washing over her at the sudden indecent pleasure overcoming her desire to resist. Tony's hand became still bolder and he hooked his middle finger in the buttonhole of her pants, sensing her tacit surrender.
Mandy bit hard on her lower lip, glancing at Liz to see if her girl friend showed signs of awareness. But the girl's pants were all the way off now, and her knees were raised high in the air, quivering violently as Gil plunged ruthlessly with his fingers into the girl's slavering cunt. Her mouth was wide, yet no sound came forth; all Mandy could hear was the wet, gurgling sounds of the boy's rapist fingers and the hot, labored breath of her teen-age friend as she responded hotly to the immoral act.
Oh God? What should I do? This was sheer lunacy; the two of them going so far-and worse, enjoying it! Hasn't Liz any shame, knowing she is exposing herself this way? Is this what grass did to her, set her so free she doesn't care about anything or anybody except her oivn kicks? And what about me?
She could feel her zipper part now, and then a fingernail teased at the softness of her thigh as her pants seemed to magically open before her eyes. She gasped aloud. Tony's hand covered all of the wet panties and was snaking under the elastic band and worming into the moist walls of her virginal pussy. She squirmed against it, holding her breath for fear some tell-tale sound might escape her lips. Her whole young body quivered until her soft impaled vagina accustomed itself to the invading middle finger of the boy. She could feel her tender vaginal walls seep their fluid into the palm of Tony's hand as he ground into her, moving in circles, expanding her tight cuntal hole. She was almost out of her mind now. She didn't think she could stand this maddening teasing of her genitals another moment. She was ready to crawl into the ocean to quench the fire raging through her contracted vagina. And the sight of her girl friend being buffeted on the sand beside her, was just too much!
"No!" she suddenly screamed, sitting up. "No, I can't, Tony! Don't do this!"
"What?" the boy's tone was one of incredulity and anger. "I'm hotter than hell, Mandy. That's twice you've led me on, you goddamn little prick-teaser!"
"I'm-I'm not teasing," Mandy choked out, almost in tears.
"You are!"
"Liz! Liz, let's go home! It's time to go home!" Mandy wailed, covering her face with her hands, her belly quivering with unrequited sex, her pussy agonizingly on fire from the ripping removal of Tony's hand and its clasping demand for more.
Tony laughed harshly. "Are you kidding? Liz leaving now? Look at them, baby. Look at Liz and Gil, and you tell me why she's not answering!"
The virgin teenager tremblingly opened her hands and then as she saw what her friend and the boy were doing almost in front of her, she gaped in disbelief. Gil, having worked the girl into a fever pitch, had placed himself in position over her rapidly rising and falling belly. Liz's mouth hung wide open in ecstatic rapture, her glassy, lust and grass-smoked eyes staring up into nothingness. Then Gil pressed down on the smooth flat plane of her stomach with his hands and his thumbs lay pressed into the fleshy outer flanges of her cunt lips. Mandy sucked in her stomach in sympathetic response as the boy's thumbs massaged for a moment and then pulled outward slowly, exposing the moist red slit of Liz's vagina. The dainty bud of her clitoris was clearly visible just above the stretched elastic opening of her vaginal orifice.
Beside her, Tony pressed a freshly lit cigarette to the young virgin's lips, and Mandy drew deeply without hesitation, beyond noticing it was more of the conscience-killing marijuana. The sweet, acrid smoke curled in her throat and lungs like a soothing syrup, sweeping away the horror she had first felt when she had seen Liz and Gil. Her head lightened and she pulled on the joint, beginning to wickedly enjoy the scene.
Gil's head dropped, his long tongue snaking out to flick teasingly at the quivering little nub of raw nerves at the top of the teenager's vagina. Liz's body jerked at the contact and her legs clamped down around the boy's head, imprisoning his ears in a vise-like grip. Her hips began a slow up and down motion to the probings, and soft mews of animal delight started to roll for the first time from between the girl's tightly clenched teeth. She was caught in a mindless, drugged fit of uncontrollable lust, and nothing mattered except the nerve-shattering lickings of her cunt.
Mandy drew deeper on the marijuana, feeling her mind opening like a budding flower. She wasn't certain now whether the two writhing bodies on the sand were real or a figment of her imagination, for it felt as though they were dancing in her brain. Time and distance became indefinable, and her own torso began to sway in time with the squirmings of lewdness going on right next to them.
Tony had moved behind her and she felt his arms extend around in front of her and his hands once more slithered down into the open front of her Levi's. "This is it, baby," he whispered harshly in her ear. "This is it. Liz is going to get hers, and I'm going to fuck you. Right here, the four of us, fucking side by side."
The lewd words strangely excited the virgin teenager and she groaned in drugged surrender as he pushed her buttocks up and began to slide her Levi's and panties down ... slowly down her thighs. Her muscles were like rubber and she almost fell over, but Tony held her in his strong arms and inched her clothing down some more.
Tony was mesmerized with the breathtaking loveliness of the young blonde virgin as she allowed him to remove her pants. Now, naked except for her blouse, she lay on the blanket, breathing wildly and looking at the obscene display of his friend and her friend as they lewdly coupled on the sand. Mandy's sleek, nubile body was an entrancing combination of golden curls and rising contours of swelling breasts and thighs, and gentle concaves of soft, smooth belly. The boy gaped at the velvet-like, honey-colored silken down that covered the junction of her slightly spread thighs. The thin red slit running the length of her open loins caused his mouth to go dry. He had fucked a lot of girls, but never anything like Mandy Simpson! Never anything so pure, innocent and proud. The thought of helpless, uncontrollable mewlings escaping from those barely touched lips goaded his cock to rock-hardness. He could feel the blood pound into his shaft and tiny droplets of seminal fluid began to ooze out of its sensitive, bloated glans.
Mandy was transfixed by the struggle taking place beside her. She saw Gil raise to his knees and remove his pants, and she gasped at the sight of the boy's thick stump of a cock standing out from his curly pubic hair. Mandy shuddered as she saw it pause momentarily over her girl friend's still widespread vagina, and then the boy leaned forward, balancing himself on his elbows, and Liz had reached up with one of her hands and guided his penis between her quivering thighs. He slid in with a moaning sigh escaping from both the adolescent's mouths, and then the teenager locked her shoeless feet around his ankles and the two of them started a slow, rocking motion. The boy withdrew slightly, his thick foreskin sliding out several inches and then thrust forward again, and Mandy's mouth dropped open in disbelief. This was her friend! She knew that Liz wasn't a virgin, that she had let other boys fuck her, but nothing like this openness had ever occurred to her! The tempo began to build, and the picture of the locked bodies drumming on the blanket made her groan and she rocked on her buttocks, letting them splay wider to the ever-increasing demands of her boyfriend's hands.
Her love for Tony incited her further. The virgin pussy opened and closed around the tormenting hand that was finger-fucking at her flame-seared virginity. The cords of her neck stood out as she pulled with all her strength to somehow control the fire overpowering her.
"Oh! Ohhh! Aggghhhh!" the teenager moaned, and she couldn't stand it! She rolled against Tony, forcing him to remove his hand as she sprawled like a gasping goldfish on the now wet blanket. She twitched and undulated, unable to either stop the coursing madness of his attentions, nor know what to do or say to have them put out for her. She couldn't believe it! She couldn't! Yet it was happening to her! And as Tony unzipped his own pants and let the cool Pacific air waft over his giant exposed penis, the last shattered remnants of Mandy's vow faded into nothingness.
The boy couldn't stand it any longer. It was all he could do to keep from shoving his bloated cock forward and impaling this sweet, tender child, but the desire to have her again and again made him slow his aching torment, to work her into a state where she would want more ... more cock ... all the time cock from him.
He rolled on top of her, his rigid stiff cock brushing against her wet pubic hair. He planted his hands on either side of her shoulders so that he could look down between their bodies and see her upturned cunt completely exposed to him. The expanded narrow cunt-slit was throbbing its lips in invitation, her moist furrow held wide apart by the pressure of his thighs pressing tightly up against hers.
The virgin girl could see Tony hovering over her through her passion and drug-dimmed eyes. She could feel the hugeness of his fleshy hardness lying the full length of her quivering slit, and the jerking head of his cock throbbing between her widespread buttocks, insinuating itself up and down in a maddening tease that caused her to twist her hips up toward it, her hungry little cunt mouth searching desperately for its hard, blood-filled tip.
Tony pushed forward.
Mandy felt the lips around her throbbing vagina spread open. The elastic tightness of her hymen-of her sacred virginity-resisted. Tony flexed again, driving harder at the entrance to her womb. The hymen suddenly tore, giving way before the cruel pressure, and the pain was harsh and she mechanically resisted for a minute, emitting a long low groan from deep within her throat. Warm blood gushed from the wound and pooled on the blanket, to soak in the sand. Tony liked that, liked the idea he had actually bagged a cherry!
He shoved again-a deeper groan-and then he rammed forward, sinking his lust-inflated cock all the way in until his balls slapped tightly against her defensively jerking anus.
Mandy screwed herself down on the sand in an attempt to escape the sudden impalement, her legs jerking out wide, kicking futilely in the night air.
"Tony! To-ny! Nooooo!" she screamed, not caring if Gil and Liz could hear, not caring about anything except the pain which was burning deep in her belly. But Tony pinned her down with his body and arms, and his giant cock burrowed deeper with each motion, each jerk. The fiery, plunging shaft seemed to be filling her belly, her throat, and the girl's face contorted with the agony of the vicious stabs. Her arms were outstretched, palms against his hips, attempting to hold back the blunt hardness pressing relentlessly against her cervix.
It was alive inside her! The rubbery tip pressing against the thin folds of her vagina were a part of her and she was one with in spite of the pain. Her tongue started a wild licking of her lips, and she flexed her cuntal muscles which seemed only to incite Tony's penis more and it plowed its way through the vainly resisting passage while her helplessly cringing pussy clasped it like a warm wet glove.
Then the pain began to recede and was slowly giving way to a flame of tingling electricity which started in her womb and seeped relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. It rippled through her cunt and out her fleece-lined lips and worked its way up her contracting belly and out the tips of her pink, palpitating nipples.
"Oh," she whimpered through bared teeth, fighting the thin line of pleasure-pain.
Tony waited a moment then throbbed his cock again, watching her face contort below.
"Ohhhhh!" she held her breath as his buried cock expanded again, stretching her newly defiled passage further apart.
"Ooooohhhhhh, God! Tony, darling!"
The boy could feel her urgent answering throbs begin around the head of his cock. Her wet cunt flesh began a soft opening and closing pulsation around his member. Mandy rotated her hips and her vagina dilated in time to the boy's beating rhythm.
It felt now as if her heart was imbedded in her cuntal passage, and she and her darling Tony were one fleshy mass of sensation, merged magically together by their love.
He was in her! He was a part of her!
Tony initiated lengthy, hard strokes into her now steaming channel, the full throbbing length of his incited cock sunk into her ravaged vagina. His shoulders pushed against her and kept her secured in that helpless position as he battered like a machine gun in her. Moaning and mewling, the teen-age girl began to thrust up against him, her motions urgent and faster by the second, her small white teeth biting hard together. Tony knew she was straining to cum; the juices of her now eagerly responding pussy were flowing wildly, staining the blanket beneath, and he could hear a wet sucking sound of the sawing movements of his cock as she surged up to meet his plunges.
Dear God! Dear God! This is wonderful! This is what I've been missing! Dear God, I love it! Mandy's mind screamed.
Her nails gouged a path down his back and she drew his thick wet tongue voraciously in her mouth, swallowing it greedily and she squirmed and skewered, and then turned her head to one side and screamed to the world:
"Tony! Yes! Yes! I'm cumming! I'm ... Aggggggg!"
And with the last deep-throated cry, her body began to quake and torrents of fluids gushed from her wildly pulsating cunt, immersing his spearing cock in its sticky warmth and trickling down her buttocks and over his sperm-filled balls.
As she grunted out the last of her release, her body still heaving spasmodically, Tony felt his own orgasm approaching, and wildly he clutched the wide open cheeks of her young buttocks and slammed his spewing cock in her soft, now unresisting pussy.
Mandy felt a new sweet pain in her vagina as the head of her lover's deeply sunk cock suddenly flared into a size that threatened to mangle her inner organs. It began to spurt! She could feel the delicious hot white liquid shoot into her like molten lava, surge against her womb like streams of fire. The very pores of her cuntal valley opened to it, oozing forth their own enraptured answer. It was magnificent! No words could describe it! She was going out of her mind with the ecstasy! She mustn't let it ever stop!
She clawed frantically at Tony's back. "Fill me, darling! Fill me up!" she cried while the seething walls of her quaking cunt sucked at the jerking cock ravenously, until it offered one final convulsive leap and Tony fell forward, exhausted.
It had seemed unbelievably and erotically without end, but Mandy too, now felt completely collapsed, and quivering in final limpness, her legs falling and protruding lifelessly on either side of his body, the young teen-age girl at last knew the meaning of being a woman.
CHAPTER 7
The night had become cooler now, but not gloomy or depressing. Mist and little wisps of fog drifted in from the pounding surf and it seemed as if the little domain of sand upon which the blankets were spread was a pocket for the earth-tied clouds to swirl around.
The four youngsters, the twin adolescent couples, sat or lay entirely nude, for after their almost simultaneous orgasms, it seemed against God and nature to keep on the remaining shirts and shoes, as if those raiments were somehow an evil castigation to their hedonistic worship, as if they spoiled the illusion that the boys and girls were not free to love and be loved....
They didn't speak for some time, for in silence they found a truce, and the once innocent, once virgin Mandy Simpson stared out at the water, concentrating on her own confused mind. Conversation, just the sound of voices, might have helped her at that moment, given her confidence that she had done the right thing, but remorse and fear-fear primarily-stifled her throat. She had let herself go and had been sucked into a tidal whirlpool of sensuality through anger and arousal. Anger at her mother, a way of hitting back at the hurt and anguish which had been eating her insides since last night. Arousal at the hands and body of her boyfriend of two nights, a boy who had fed her liquor and pot and instigated her in a robbery.
And now it was over. She was no longer a virgin. She had been initiated in the age-old ritual of lovemaking, of joining the male penis and the female vagina, and what did she feel? Physically, she felt fine. Wonderful in fact, with her muscles and nerves in a ambivalent mixture of satiation and excitement. Her tender pussy still tingled and was wetly moist from the savage assault of previous moments, was still blood engorged as if having once tasted the fruit it was hungry for more. Mentally she was enmeshed in guilt and ashamedness for her actions, for allowing herself to display her genitals and writhe in pagan abandonment on a public beach with her best girl friend not three feet away, similarly displayed.
She had had a dream of a large, soft bed with white frilly spread and perhaps a woolly pink blanket, and privacy. Soothing privacy as her husband tenderly, patiently taught her the purpose of her pussy ... well, the dream had been shattered tonight. She had not had the bed, nor the privacy, nor the tender patience, nor the husband. The dream hadn't exactly turned into a nightmare, but it certainly hadn't left her with a sense of well-being. She was a confused, frightened little girl.
She turned to Tony, who was sitting up and smoking a regular cigarette. She rubbed her hand along his arm, feeling the hairs as they sifted through her trembling fingers. "Tony," she said hesitantly.
"What?"
"I don't want you ever to take any other girl here."
Tony put his hand around her bare back and hugged her. "There ain't going to be any other girls, baby."
"You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure." He kissed her gently.
"Forever." Mandy sighed as she spoke, for here was the reassurance she so desperately needed, was so afraid to ask for. It made their act one of beauty, not of sordidness. It gave a meaning for her gift of virginity, a meaning which was very important to her.
"That's the way it's going to be." Tony kissed her again, and Mandy started feeling that unquenchable surge in her loins again. The boy stroked her breast, and she made no move to remove his hand, did not care if Gil and Liz were watching. "Wait until you meet the others me and Gil run around with. You'll like them. Real nervy."
"Do they work with a gun too?"
Tony laughed nervously. "You gotta if you want to be a Demon Friar. The Friars don't like chickens, except to eat. There's five of us-ten, counting you two and the other girls, and we have some real swell times." He stretched back out on the sand, his limp penis lying fallow against his inner thigh and a prominent display for Mandy to study. Then she lay down and placed her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating, and it seemed so loud to her. "Real swell parties," Tony continued, "where we all get stoned and have a blast together."
"Am I a Friar now?" Mandy asked.
Tony laughed. "Not yet, baby. You have to be three things if you want to be a Friar, see; three itty-bitty things, and then you'll be my girl."
"What are they?" She was excited and almost wanted to get started on the three things already. Anything to please her boyfriend, to really belong to him.
"Well," Tony said. "You can't be a virgin."
"That's taken care of," Mandy giggled.
"Two, you gotta drink." Tony pinched Mandy's ear and made her shiver delightfully. "And you gotta light up a joint. More than one to show you aren't chicken."
"That's the three?"
"And you gotta pass the initiation."
"That's four and you said three."
"So I made a mistake." He turned his head and kissed her. "Gee, I like you."
"I like you, too." She kissed him back, sensing the rising of her blood. "The real thing."
"So you wanna join ? "
"Soon as I can. Tony."
"Well, there's going to be a party Friday night at our new clubhouse. It ain't really our clubhouse at all, it's just a place that will be vacant then."
"I don't understand."
"Well, one of the guys, Jack Alvaro, works as a gardener and handyman at Old Man Forsythe's mansion up behind Tucker. You know the place?" Mandy shook her head negatively, and Tony went on. "It's big, lemme tell you, and ritzy as hell. Well, the Forsythes are going to be gone over the weekend, leaving Friday afternoon, so since Jack has the key, it makes it real simple to sneak in and have a little fun there."
"Won't there be trouble? I mean with the neighbors?"
"Naw. We'll be careful. Not use the lights but candles, and go bare-foot, and not yell. Sorta something different, and we can arrange for your initiation to take place then."
"What about Liz? Can she join, too?"
"That's up to Gil. But I'm sure he'll ask her." He pressed his fingers into her breast and rolled over so that he could embrace her.
"Tony," Mandy moaned.
"It was great," he whispered in her ear. "Real great, wasn't it?"
"Yes," the teen-aged girl whispered, putting her bare arms around his neck. "Yes, oh, yes, yes!"
Mandy Simpson ran her fingers across Tony's hair and pressed her palms against his temples. And as Tony mashed his lips and weight against her she felt secure, protected in the warmth of passion and safety which she had longed for since her home had exploded and destroyed itself. Near her she could hear the gently whispering murmurs of Liz and Gil and from the beach came the patient and spaced roar of waves striking the sand. The sky served as a peaceful canopy and although the night was cool, the warmth of love and passion coursed through her veins and made her whole being a vibrant creation. And as her breasts leaped up to meet the warm pressure of Tony's hand, her lips clamped against his, the pressure of his body made her feel wonderfully consumed.
* * *
Mrs. Simpson rolled over heavily, began to snore on her back and then awoke with a start. A prowling cat was yowling at the moon. She wondered if Mandy was home and in bed. She ought to go to her daughter's room and see, but drowsiness and the evening's intake of gin pressed heavily on her and the bed was pleasantly warm. Of course Mandy was in bed, she thought. And if she wasn't, what could she do about it until her daughter came home? Sit in the living room and wait-for how long?-and become impatient and then have another drink and one after that when already she had had too much? That wouldn't be good.
She wished that she and Mandy got along better, but the only tenderness between them seemed to occur after the bitterness of a quarrel, and after that exchange this morning when Mandy had run from the house, she wasn't sure that was going to take place any more. Things had come to a head, all right, and Mrs. Simpson realized something had to be done. It was all her no-good ex-husband's fault, that sonofabitch, and thinking about him made her roll over and face the wall. Now her breathing was loud in her ears, loud in the room, and she knew it was no good carrying on like this.
She would sell the double bed first thing tomorrow, she thought, the bed in which they had both slept. She would change the furnishings, too, take away everything which could remind her of the bastard who had deserted her and her sicknesses. Everything: the carpets, the drapes, the pictures, even the lamps. And she would sleep in a single bed from now on, alone. No more pick-ups, no more strange men with liquor breath and grasping fingers who couldn't even remember her name the next morning or who would throw her out before she got to learn theirs. No more Bill. Or Bob, or Jimmy or Mack. She'd cut the drinking and save herself for some attractive man who would court her properly and was good to her and responsible, and she would marry him. Who knows-there might even be a new brother or sister for Mandy as well as a father. God knew that her daughter needed a father, a father to make a normal home and supply the necessary love and understanding an adolescent, growing girl had to have. And direction and guidance so that she wouldn't make mistakes, mistakes which in the violent world of today could kill her or ruin her for life.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, she would start. No, it couldn't be tomorrow, because she had to work and that didn't leave enough time to change the bedroom. But she could kiss off Bill tomorrow night, and lay off the sauce, and then on Saturday start in on the really big changes. Mandy'd see. Mandy would really see that her mother wasn't such a bad old girl after all and loved her daughter very much.
Mrs. Simpson rolled over again and her features relaxed in the peace of deep sleep and a pleasant dream.
* * *
Surfside was still blistering from the day's hot sun, and the tourists and locals who were lethargically walking in their Bermudas and splashy-colored sport shirts or sprawled in the ice-cream chairs of the sidewalk cafes were wondering why the hell they ever left their air-conditioned houses. Night in Surfside was a deadly dull affair if they weren't young or bent on drinking and dancing in the discos and go-go clubs.
But there was always television back at the motel, Maude, even if you did see that old movie before it was a good one, remember? Yeah, and anyway it's late, George. We ought to be in bed so we can get an early start at the beach. I want a tan when I get home. Would you look at all the kids, Gladys? All over the place, like the parents here never, heard of family planning. They're just milling around, looking for something to do. They should be home, Hank, instead of out in the streets. Where do they go, I wonder? What do they do?
A large white globe straddled the entrance doorway of the Surfside Police Station, its name neatly lettered across the round surface in black block print. Two steps led from the sidewalk to the entrance doorway, and just inside the doorway a sergeant sat behind a high desk. He wished that the fan overhead wasn't broken and that his underwear would stop riding up his buttocks. It was dark and night-time, but the station house had been building a blast-furnace temperature all day and the night had brought no relief. It was as if the hot air didn't want to dissipate; that it liked it in the police station. The sergeant knew that he would be in for a long, wilting shift behind the desk, and knew that there would be trouble tonight because this kind of mugginess always seemed to let loose the nuts, and he knew that his-undershorts would continued to ride up his buttocks.
Just beyond the desk sergeant was a sign painted white with black lettering and an arrow pointing down a hall. The sign announced DETECTIVE DIVISION, and at the end of the hall, next to a row of battered khaki green lockers, was a frosted glass door with the same letters on it. Shortly before midnight, the glass door opened and detective lieutenant Carbo walked down the hall to the water-cooler, which was close to the sergeant.
"Jesus, it's a hot one tonight, isn't it Dave?" Lieutenant Carbo said, swallowing the lukewarm water in one gulp.
The sergeant nodded bleakly. He was fifty-three and had lived most of his live in Surfside, and had learned that comments about the suffocating summer rarely changed things. He secretly believed that the scientists were right about the world getting warmer, but that they were in for a surprise. It wasn't getting warmer slowly, it was doing it in leaps and bounds, and he had a hunch that before long they'd be growing coffee in Alaska. It was all account of pollution, of man's waste dumping into the air with factory smoke, cars, planes; and that this messing around had put a layer around the world like a large pair of thermal underwear, trapping the heat. Just like the damned heat was trapped in the station house. Surly, the sergeant tugged at his underwear.
Detective Carbo sighed, crumpled up the paper cup and threw it in the waste basket, then walked back to the divisional room. He was a tall man, over six feet, and weighed over two hundred pounds. He had brown eyes and a wide, broken nose mashed against his face, and his hair was cropped short in an unfashionable crew-cut. His fists were huge.
He opened the door and stepped into the little room, and closed the door behind him with a kick with his shoe. A rotating fan swept air across the detective's shirt, and he sat back down at his desk and hunched over the sheets of papers and debris. His thirty-eight Special was being used as a paperweight at the moment, holding down a lab report on a drowning victim. Carbo rifled through the scraps before him as a dog might sniff his food before deciding where to begin.
He picked up a folder and opened it. There were four case reports attached with a paper clip, and they all had to do with the robbery of a liquor store at the edge of town earlier that evening. Punks again, the detective thought. Thrill seeking lousy punks. He knew that the robbers were kids because the reports told him so:
There was one from the officer who had interviewed the liquor store owner. Mr. Bernard Perkins described the two youths who had held him up. It was a short report, because Mr. Perkins had been so frightened that most of his attention was focused on the pistol the one fatter kid was using. Armed robbery, adding a good five years to the sentence when they're caught up with, Carbo thought harshly. Five years if the judge doesn't swallow a bunch of crap about underprivileged milieu and bad socio-economic environment and the rest of that baloney.
The report was also short because Mr. Perkins had collapsed halfway through the questioning and had been rushed to St. Mary of Mercy hospital with a heart attack. The strain of the fright had been too much; his heart had literally burst. It'll be a murder rap as well as armed robbery if Perkins dies-for any death, inadvertent or accidental notwithstanding, caused during or because of a major felony is a first-degree offense automatically. The gas chamber at Quentin had been getting rusty these years-Carbo thought it was high time they stopped molly-coddling these bums and get rid of them. He almost wished that Perkins would die, just so he could really nail the punks solid.
The other reports had to do with witnesses. One was from a toothless man in his seventies who lived in the apartment house across the street. He had been at his window-"happen to glance out for a moment, officer"-probably part of nightly vigil at snooping on who was undressing where. The officer conducting that interview noted a pair of 7.50x15 binoculars on the windowsill. The old man had seen the car, though because of the position of the apartment to the store, he couldn't describe the kids.
"Kids they were, aw'rite," he gummed at the officer. "Two strappin' boys. They had their girls in the car, too, on account I heard 'em plain as day laughin' and carryin' on as though it was somethin' funny giving poor Bernie the fright of his life."
"That's just what it was, too," the officer had said.
"What's that?"
"The fright of Bernie's life. He may never get over it."
The last report was from a woman who had been walking her dog along another of the streets, and having heard about the hold-up, phoned in the information that the get-away car had passed her at a high rate of speed. The upshot was that Carbo had two jibing reports as to the car, but neither got enough of a look to supply the license number.
A green-"T'was a light green, officer. Sort of metallic and lemony, ifn you know what I mean-Mustang." The year was unknown, though it was within a three-year period, for Mustangs have a change-over in styles every four years, and then the face-lifting is drastic'. The way the car was described it fit one of the latest models, though neither the old man or the woman were up enough on cars to differentiate between the minor differences and trim changes.
There was a small, hand-written note Carbo had added, detailing the conversation he'd had with the lab technician. The lab report would be brought over in the morning; tonight it was sufficient to have the simple record that the tech man had called and said there was a positive lift of a thumb print off the plastic side of the telephone which was cut. The print wasn't of Mr. Perkins, and it could turn out to be a customer's-in which case the owner would be in no jeopardy, being over twenty-one and not in the suspect category. On the other hand, it was worth a try, and Carbo had immediately authorized that the print be checked with the few local files and the CID files in Sacramento. If not there, then the FBI. If the owner of that print had ever been in the service or had worked for the civil service or ever picked up for some offense, Carbo would know by mid-morning.
He would also be on the trail of the green Mustang. Assuming that the kids were Californian-a fair assumption for this type of crime he had also notified the State Department of Motor Vehicles for the registrations of any three-year old or younger green Mustang hardtop. There would be a pile of them, all nicely printed out On IBM sheets as the computer spun through the millions of cars registered in California-and it would take a little longer, say until Friday, before Carbo would get the report.
He had a hunch that one of the registered owners would have an address near Surfside. That would call for a visit....
Now he sat and waited for something to break. He was on duty, would be for many hours yet, and at any moment a squad car might pick up a green Mustang with a suspicious foursome. Or one of the plainclothesmen might see a couple of guys and their girls spending too much money too fast in one of the clubs. Or one of the club owners might call. You couldn't tell about these things, except for one thing. Amateurs like these punks never had a chance. They may pull a few and think they're smart, but they really don't know enough to stay lucky forever.
They'd catch them, all right, but there wasn't any reason to tip the punks off that their days were numbered. Carbo picked up the telephone. He started dialing the local newspaper. He wanted to talk to Henderson on the re-write desk, to get him to play down the holdup and not include the details about the witnesses or the owner's heart attack. No use scaring the punks off, Carbo thought; better to lull them into a false sense of security and have them show themselves.
And then-pow!
CHAPTER 8
Friday morning, Mandy Simpson staggered from her bed and somehow made it to the bathroom. The past three days had gone by in whirlwind speed, and here it was, the day of her initiation into the Demon Friars. Liz was going too, which was nice, for it would give her additional strength to be with her best girl friend as they went through the rites.
And she shuddered as she thought about the rites. Tony Desmond hadn't told her what they were going to be; he would only snicker and say, "watch out!" or "Boy are you in for it!" or other scary things which made her flesh goose bump and a tingling go through her body. The teen-aged girl had tried to pump her boyfriend of the details last night as she had lain spent and happy in his naked arms, his sperm mingling deep in belly with her own orgiastic releases in her vagina. But he wouldn't spill. All he did was tease her.
She was really gone on Tony, and she had enthusiastically allowed him full control over her young, tender body in the interval since Tuesday night and the beach. They hadn't gone back to the beach; they had spent their hours of lovemaking in her house or his ... depending on whose parents were away. They had been the finest three days of her life, for not only had the boy taught her the secrets and wonders of the flesh, but for some reason her mother had stopped bitching at her. Was actually nice and pleasant to her!
Still, she was sure it had been the change in her life wrought by the drubbing of her then-virgin pussy that Tuesday night on the beach which accounted for her feelings now. She needed fulfillment, security, love-and perhaps being a neophyte. She needed those emotions more than another-and so she and Tony blended their bodies at every opportunity. His penis thrilled her as he would arch over her, ready to plunge into her hungry quivering cavern, and lovingly she had once caressed it, running her hot, fevered hand up and down the firm yet pliable shaft until great spurts of semen had shot out and sloshed on both of them. Yet there were other times, before and after their acts of lewdness, in which they talked of sex and life, so that her love was more inspired than it could have been on a physical plane alone. Or so the little girl thought, perhaps deluded herself, perhaps had to believe. Whatever: her physical and mental desire for Tony Desmond was a raging fire.
And when she was loaded on grass she felt it even more so.
In the morning, such as right now, she would awaken with the feeling and taste of being at the bottom of a dark well shaft, with her gums and tongue thick with fur and her head racked with pain. She had to fire up quick to alleviate the throb, and as she hummed to herself in an abstracted fashion, she searched the purse she had taken into the bathroom with her for a brown, loosely filled marijuana cigarette, one which Tony had given her just before he had dressed and taken her home yesterday.
Mandy opened the window of the bathroom and lit the weed, snapping the burnt match out of the window and drawing slowly and deep. After several puffs she began to feel mellow and wasn't sick any longer and she smiled out the window at a bird which had landed in a nearby tree. This was it, man. This was living. Hello, little bird, you've got a swell no-trouble time as long as you stay away from cats.
Man, I dig cats; the two-legged-no, three-legged-kind. It's the fuzz that are the baddies. She started to laugh.
Hell, there wasn't a thing in the world to worry about! She had Tony, Tony and his wonderfully talented cock. He'd been A-number one right about everything, and he'd take good care of her. Sure: he'd been right about the grass, hadn't he? And right about sex, about getting your kicks from screwing, hadn't he? And about the holdup, too.
Mandy dragged on the joint again. She had been scared that first morning after, scared of what had happened to her on the beach and scared about the holdup of the liquor store. Tony had told her to cool it, that it was a normal let-down feeling that someone just starting on grass always gets. His soothing words hadn't helped at first, but in the proceeding days there hadn't been any knocks on the door or nerve-shattering phone calls early in the morning or late at night. No screaming headlines about armed robbers who held up a liquor store being surrounded by police with riot guns and tear gas.
Nothing. Well, a little bit. The Wednesday newspaper had a page-four item about the robbery and the fact that the robbers had been teenagers which the owner couldn't identify. That was all. Thursday's paper was void of more information, and while she hadn't seen today's paper yet, she bet it would be just as empty.
The teenager sucked in the sweet smoke and laughed again, remembering how panicky she'd been Wednesday night when she and Tony and Liz and Gil had gone out. Gil had laughed at her because she was so timid and Tony called her chicken and why he was wasting his time on her he didn't understand. And through all this Liz had lain in the back seat, passed out cold stiff from the reefers and the alcohol and she had missed everything, including the fucking Gil had given her unconscious body while she and Tony made up it the living room couch. It had been good that night, almost as good as on the beach, and on Thursday it was impossible to believe that Liz didn't remember a thing.
Still giggling, Mandy finished the last of the cigarette and flushed the roach down the toilet. Then she walked out of the bathroom and danced in little pirouette steps down the hall to her room. Her mother had gone to work at eight, per usual, and wouldn't be home until six or later. Strange; the last couple of nights she'd stayed at home, even asking Mandy to stay home too. Mandy didn't, of course. What the hell was there to do with her old lady? Play cards? Watch television? And pass up Tony's hardened penis surging up in her clasping pussy? Not on her life.
She was naked, not having bothered to put on pajamas or a nightie when she had gotten home last night, and she stood in front of the mirror examining her tender, young body, at her pink-tipped, up-thrust breasts and her concave belly and the softly rising mound of her pubic area. She examined her cunt for a moment, stretching the pink-fringed lips aside and parting the thin wisps of hair to see if she could see any difference now that Tony had so thoroughly violated the tender, nubile area. She saw only what she had always seen: the hole looked a little larger, if anything, but she wasn't sure. Hell, like ol' Liz had said, it didn't change you or turn you green-but her good friend was sure wrong when she had first said that it was nothing! Sex was everything!
Humming that same aimless tune as she had in the bathroom, the innocent teenager opened the closet door for her clothes.
* * *
Mandy Simpson sat in Tony's car tense and silent, feeling as if a dynamo was working overtime to pump her heart. She heard the sounds of her friend, Liz, in the back seat, and that made her all the more nervous. She dug the nails of her left hand into the palm of her right and pressed her lips tight around her teeth. How long had the boys been gone? Not long, not long at all.
"Scared?" Liz asked.
"A little," Mandy admitted. "Jesus, I don't like it out here. It's sort of spooky, you know what I mean?"
"Uhhuh." There was another long pause of silence and then Liz asked, "Turn on the radio, will you?"
Mandy leaned forward and switched it on. Some rock music pervaded the car, driving away the demons in her brain. She looked out of the car window, looked out of it the same way she had looked out of it three nights ago when Gil and Tony were in the liquor store, robbing it. She had been horrified then, but the pot and the alcohol had soothed her into a false sense of security, or enough of one at least to dull the impact of the danger until the next day. But now-now she was fully awake, her faculties sharp and stinging. It wasn't the way she had wanted it-she had desired to go to the initiation loaded to the point where nothing they did would faze her.
She had had three reefers starting with the one in the bathroom that morning, but then in the afternoon Tony had driven over, and he had taken away her panaceas, robbing her purse of the grass and said that she couldn't have any more until after she was initiated into the Demon Friars.
He had said that the initiation was a test, and by God she would have to pass the test knowing full well what she was doing, and what was happening to her. It made her quiver with fear-the kind of fear a child gets as he buys his admission ticket to a horror film-half in trepidation, half in anticipation.
So now she and Liz were parked in Tony's car, staring out the window at the Forsythe's cold mansion, all bleak and dark. Whereas the liquor store had been well lit, there wasn't a light showing through the windows; they stared back at her in inky desolation. It was ten in the evening, the sun was gone, and the moon was pretty well hidden by a bank of clouds. It would rain tomorrow, she thought perfunctorily; a heavy, sudden thunderstorm which will alleviate the humidity. Then the sun would shine again, hot and dry, and it would be pleasant again.
Sort of like what she was waiting to go through, she mused. A sudden, frightening ordeal which had to be done in order to enjoy life afterwards.
The Forsythe mansion was in a section of Tucker that was rarely visited. It was in the hills to the north of the town, with small, narrow roads leading to the houses and nowhere else in particular, so that there was little if any through traffic. Forsythe had built a large replica of a Southern plantation mansion many years ago, and as a result there was an odd mixing of Old English and Victorian elements to the architecture. The gables had little wooden pickets hanging from them like icicles, and there were shutters across the leaden windows. Across the broad front was a widow's walk, but one couldn't use it because there were no doors on the second floor leading to it, and the roof line was too steep to allow for them anyway. It looked, Mandy Simpson thought as she studied its now weathered exterior, like a Gone With The Wind set after Charles Adams had finished designing it.
And in there, inside hiding with the shades down and the candles lit, were the five boys and the three girls who had passed the rituals and were now planning new and more terrible things for Mandy and Liz, the two, trembling teen-age girls.
Then Mandy jerked upright, for she heard the sharp rap of shoes along the macadam drive. The door opened and Tony stuck his head in. "For Christ's sake! You want the neighbors to know we're here?"
"Wha--? "
"The radio! We can hear that thing clear inside! Turn it off!"
Mandy fumbled with the knob. There was sudden stillness again. Not even crickets chirped tonight, as if they knew the fate the two girls were willing to be part of.
"We were only trying to calm ourselves," Liz explained.
"Heh, heh," the boy chortled. "Too late for that now. C'mon, if you're not chicken. It's time."
Their hearts palpitating and their throats dry, the girls hesitantly got out of the car and walked unsteadily up the broad black expanse of macadam to the cement walk which led to the front door. Halfway to the huge mahogany double doors with their brass hinges and knocker, Tony said, "No, not this way. Around the back."
He led them over the spongy grass, and the three of them made no sound as their footsteps were swallowed up by the thick turf. Mandy brushed against a large bush, its prickly leaves scraped along her bare legs and making her jump with sudden alarm. Oh, God ... oh, God what have I let myself in for?
The terrace French doors were open, and holding the drapes aside for them, Tony ushered the teenagers into the pitch black living room. "Through here," he instructed them, and taking Mandy's hand and she holding onto Liz's clammy fingers with her other, they slowly made their way through the room to the door at the far end.
"We decided to hold the initiation in the party room," Tony explained. "Seemed more appropriate."
He opened the door.
Inside the party room was a candle. One huge, two-inch thick candle stuck in a wine jug. It had been used many times by the accumulation of wax on the glass. The flickering flame danced on the walls and bounced off the furniture-some chairs, a walnut paneled bar, a dead television set-and illuminated seven other boys and girls sitting around the flame in a cabal of sinister implications.
Liz stepped forward, seeing her boyfriend across the candle from her. "Gil!"
"Shut up," the boy snapped back harshly.
"If you enter to take the rites of the Demon Friars," Tony warned, "If once you step through this door and desire to join the circle before you, you must be silent."
"I'll be quiet," Liz promised.
"Not a word," agreed Mandy, already too far caught up with the proceedings to worry about being able to say anything. Her mouth seemed unable to work properly at the moment.
"Step forward." Tony commanded.
Mandy and Liz, quaking at the unknown before them, moved to the circle. A blonde-headed boy by the name of Roger stood and stepped aside for her; Cindy, the girl to the left of him, a slender, finely boned girl of perhaps sixteen with taut, sharp breasts jutting from her cashmere sweater and a wide, full mouth, moved for Liz. They both stared malevolently at the girls, but in their eyes was a glitter, a spark of something more than maliciousness. Mandy saw that look and thought for one horrified moment that it was the way Tony looked as he gazed at her naked body before he made love to her....
The two girls stood near the candle flame, its slender light still enough to bathe them both in its glow. The others had now moved all back, their outlines hazy black figures crouching at all sides.
Tony took a deep breath. "Are we ready to begin?"
Mandy glanced at Liz as if she was seeking solace in the eyes of her young friend, tied together as they were in this mutual subjugation. A mute empathy, a tight bond, was sewn in that instant between the two teenagers, and that bond somehow made things a little less terrifying. Perhaps now Mandy could keep her sanity during this longest of nights.
"Ye-es," she croaked in answer, j
"I said never to speak!" roared Tony. "Nod!"
The two girls nodded dumbly. Mandy was trembling from the shock at hearing Tony's awful tone of voice; could it be he has changed? No, no-it's part of the ritual, she guessed. That was it, just like they do at boot camp, to make them cower. Well it had worked. She was cowering.
Another boy, a short, stocky lad wearing no shirt, his sunburned chest almost an umber color in the room's dim light, stepped forward and said, "It is time for the pipe." He produced a long-stemmed wooden pipe, one like Mandy had seen in her social studies textbook when they were illustrating the Indians and the white men sitting around the campfire. A peace pipe? A thin squirrel tail of smoke was curling from its bowl, and a smell similar to that of marijuana, only more pungent and sickly sweet eddied around Mandy's head as she hesitantly took the stem.
"Opium," Tony said from the background, "The pure stuff, served only at special occasions like now. Take the pipe; first you, Mandy Simpson, and then you, Liz Bradley and inhale its rich vapors."
Liz gasped. "But you said we only had to smoke mar-"
"Silence!"
Mandy now understood why she hadn't been allowed to have her cigarettes earlier. The tremendous impact of sliding one more notch down the ladder of depravity, of opium taking, had to be firmly imbedded in her mind in order to have her be a true part of the Demon Friars. She didn't want to-she wanted to be home, to cast aside this awful threat, to play cards or watch television with her mother-but she took the pipe. She obeyed the command, drawing deeply and exhaling slowly, drawing and exhaling, then handed the pipe to her girl friend.
Mandy's young brain began to swim and she could feel herself weaving slowly. Some of the agony lessened in her mind, being replaced now by a floating, suspended haziness.' She was still afraid of what the group would deign to mete out, but her courage was doubled.
When the pipe was completely finished and handed back to the other boy, Tony said in the same authoritative voice, "Both of you! Strip! Take off all your clothes!"
Mandy gulped. No! Not in front of everybody! She looked at Liz and could see that her best friend was in the same torment of soul. I can't! I won't!
"Strip, you fucking sluts!"
Like twin marionettes, the drugged and frightened young girls began to unbutton and unclip their garments, leaving their clothing in a pool at their feet. They stood there in all their young, vibrant nakedness, the candle flame making almost feelable touches on their skin as the rest of the group viewed their curvaceous young bodies with almost inhuman eyes.
"Now you, Liz Bradley," Tony snapped. "Because you talked just now and disobeyed, you will be punished."
A whimper escaped from her closed mouth.
"Spread your thighs, Liz Bradley. Open them wide and put your hand between them and play with your cunt. Put your fingers on your clitoris and tickle your little hole, just like you were home and all alone in your bed. Make your pussy all nice and hot and you, Mandy Simpson, you watch her!"
Horrified, Mandy looked down at her opium drugged girl friend's vagina and the exposed hair-fringed lips of her cunt with its dainty clitoris nestled teasingly in the soft fleshy folds. She swallowed hard as Liz hypnotically lowered her hand there, middle finger extended, her face sheened with sweat and torture racked, and began to slowly masturbate. Her legs bent slightly, illuminated by the candle beneath and to one side, and then she groaned and rubbed faster and faster.
Mandy then realized that they, had been trapped in an evil web of depravity. That the initiation was in fact to be an impossible circus of lewd abuse of their helpless young bodies, and she trembled with renewed fear, for she was aware that as the night progressed it would get worse, far worse, until they culminated in a "God only knew" apex of orgiastic perversions. And yet, as she watched her young girl friend, almost eagerly now, beating her pussy, the blonde-haired teenager felt an odd tingling in her own loins, as if this lewdness was exciting her. No! No! God forgive me!
"All right, now both of you start playing with each other!"
Ohhhhhhhhhh! wailed Mandy's brain at this incredible command. This was lesbianism, and worse, it was to be done in front of all these others! But she knew that she couldn't back out now. It was too late. She had said she would go through with the initiation, and now she was here, and if she tried to run, they would stop her. And then it would be terrible, more terrible than to submit now.
Mandy's arms went around her black-haired girl friend even as she felt Liz's arms go around her. They touched one another, Mandy sliding her slick palms up and down the now fevered flesh of her drunkenly excited friend, feeling in turn the hot, tingling movements of Liz's fingers on her own sensitive skin.
Her breath quickened, and as Liz's fingers caressed her swollen breasts and passed over her hard nipples, her mind cried out futilely from the unwanted pleasure of the contact. Then their hands were along their quivering flanks and around to the moist fleece of their pubic regions. Mandy felt the other girl's finger seek out her clitoris, felt the hot deliciousness, and she reached and returned the favor. They stood like that, playing with one another, their breasts touching, two mortally vanquished girls around the circle of teen-age hedonists.
"Now lie down on the floor. Spread your legs wide!"
Mutely, Mandy obeyed, sitting down on the cold linoleum tile and leaning back, her pussy secreting a warm excited moisture now. Liz Bradley lay beside her, quivering, her dark pubic triangle moist and slick from her own juices.
"Now, Mandy Simpson, I order you to get on all fours upside down over her like the bitch you are and lick Liz Bradley's cunt. Lick it, lap it like you were in heat!"
"Nooo!" the strangled sound tore from Mandy's opium-drugged lips in a piteous protest against what was being asked of her.
Tony stepped forward and slapped her, hard, across the face. "You fucking bitch! Do what I tell you or I'll fix your wagon! I'll fix it good, and you know I can do it! Now start eating out Liz's pussy!"
A tortured sob burst from the teenager's young body, but she rolled over and got on her hands and knees and straddled her girl friend's wide-splayed thighs. Her head moved half consciously forward and her hot breath blew like searing flame down into the wet opening between her girl friend's legs.
"And you, Liz; you reach up and suck Mandy's cunt!"
With a low mewl of total submission, Liz began to kiss Mandy's" thighs, and then her tongue snaked out and Mandy heard a muffled sob just before she felt the electric contact of the black-haired girl's fiery wet probes against her own violently quivering clitoris, felt it lick molten swaths from the quivering button down through the soft wetness of her fleece-lined cuntal lips to the widespread opening of her vagina.
She cried out in helpless protest, and yet, something else-passion! She had never let herself be licked down there, had never even thought of such things until Tony had suggested it the previous afternoon when they were doing it at his house ... and then she had recoiled, the whole thought of mouths touching genitals making her a little sick to her stomach. But now it was happening, against her will but there was nothing she could do, and there was no denying the fact that it did feel good. Or was it the drug that allowed her these free licentious ideas? She didn't know-she didn't care with her girl friend's tongue sliding deeper and hotter into her already throbbing pussy. As if possessed of a will of their own, her thighs parted and she pressed her loins voluntarily downward, giving her girl friend more access to her cunt, and she in turn entangled her lips and mouth and hands more completely in the rich, titian strands and the pink, throbbing flesh of the pussy below her.
Ripples of self-loathing, fear, shame, and sensuality all coursed through the young girl at the same time, mixed in a fog of uncontrol by the opium smoke in her boiling blood. She never realized that the others, the eight boys and girls who had been instructing her and Liz and had been feasting their lewd eyes on her perversions were quickly shedding their clothes. All Mandy Simpson knew or cared about was the ambivalent upheavals in her brain: I can't do it ... Oh, God, I can't!-and then, as if in defiance to her thoughts, her head plunged lower and buried itself completely in the wet, fleece-lined furrow of her girl friend's soft grinding cunt.
Tony was totally naked as he stepped forward. He dropped to his knees as he neared the bobbing head of his girl friend, his lust-hardened cock in his right hand, lifting it close to her tender, innocent face, moving his knees forward until the tip of it was almost touching her blonde hair. "Mandy," he said sharply. 'Mandy Simpson, lift up your head."
Mandy stopped her slavering caresses on her girl friend's pussy and looked up. She saw through her lust and drug fogged retinas the great girth of Tony Desmond's penis, saw every ridge and pore of it as he moved it back and forth snake-like in front of her head.
"Put your hands on my cock now, Mandy," he told her, and she obeyed mechanically. An unwanted shiver passed through her.
"You, Liz Bradley, you keep on sucking Mandy," Tony said. And as if in some kind of responsiveness, a surge of new salaciousness tore through Mandy as Liz doubled her fevered task below. "Uhhh!" moaned Mandy, and she began to work her hand up and down, watching the foreskin of the boy's cock pucker over the engorged head, then wrap itself over the shaft.
"You're going to take my cock in your mouth, Mandy," Tony said. "Put my cock in your mouth, and suck. Suck me good!"
The teen-age girl simply couldn't force herself to perform the perverted act of fellatio on the boy, taste his semen on her tongue ... no!
The girl reached up and cupped his balls tenderly, kneading them and then returned to stroke his shaft. "No, Tony. Please fuck me. Please. Tony, I want you inside me now." She was in tears and they were streaming softly down her desire-flushed cheeks.
"No, goddamn it," the boy panted. "You are going to suck me off first! That is what you are told to do, and you'll do it, bitch. You'll do it if you want to be a member of the Demon Friars!"
She tried to resist, but the boy wrapped his hands painfully in her golden hair and held her steady, unable to move. "Suck me, you little bitch! Hurry it up, my balls are aching like hell!"
Mandy stared at the quivering head of Tony's penis, which glistened wetly from its thin sheen of lubrication, and its unseeing eye of the glans stared back like some hypnotic symbol of carnality. The glittering candlelight played across his cock, adding to the lascivious image, and the continual electric shocks of pleasure radiating from Liz's still searching mouth and tongue in her vagina made the whole scene still more removed from sanity. The intense sexual pleasures to which her young loins were acutely responding, the opium dulling her normally sharp wits, the blanket of diffused fear which had been a part of her this whole evening
-all made her into a quivering, meek naked object to the whim of the devilish Demon Friar who kneeled naked before her. "Oooohhhhh, God!" she mewled out in abject submission and slavishly bent her head forward.
The girl's lips were but a scant inch from the head of Tony Desmond's penis, and though there was a faint warning bell in what was left of her mind telling her that what she was about to do was degrading and perverse and she should flee no matter what the consequences, she experimentally touched the rubbery head with the tip of her tongue. Touched it and tasted for the first time the bitter-sweet pungency of a male's seminal fluid. And surprisingly, shockingly, Mandy found that the taste did not make her cringe back as she had suspected. That it was actually pleasant-nearly delicious!
Mandy swirled her tongue around the glans opening now, lapping up all the warm male secretion there and Tony groaned wildly, his fingers convulsing in her hair at the electric, virgin young tongue licking hungrily on his palpitating cock. She opened her mouth wide to accept the entire penis, moving her tongue in circular, progressively faster strokes, holding the base of his cock between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing it tantalizingly.
Tony's hips began a slow undulation, his thick cock sliding in and out of Mandy's mouth with a wet sucking sound, guided in rhythm and direction by his large hands gripping her hair. Gil and the others approached the two teen-age girls and the boy. Gil's cock, was long and diamond hard as he gazed lasciviously at Tony ramming into her helplessly trapped face and Liz beneath her, sucking and licking and tonguing her tender lust-dilated cunt. Liz had put her hands to work now; one was flashing with speeding accuracy in her wide splayed cunt, taking the place of Mandy's lips and tongue. She mewled in her dream-world of opium induced sensuality. Her other hand ran trembling fingers over the smooth ivory and tan flesh of her girl friend, allowing them to rove beneath the full rounded breasts that pointed to the floor, tweaking and twisting the small buds of her nipples, then running them back up the sides of Mandy's body and over the hour-glass figure. It was an exciting and pulse-quickening picture for the gathered members of the Demon Friars, and one which would soon be added to.
Mandy could feel the fingers crawling over her naked body as her head slithered on the thick shaft protruding before her. She could see the small tufts of dark pubic hair curling out around the base, and her mind wandered in drugged semi-consciousness as she thought that now nothing mattered except to get this horrible initiation over with. And to get it over with she had to please her cruel tormentors. She had to-any idea of leaving this house of wicked depravity before they wanted her to would be impossible.
She began to suck to please Tony, running her tongue wetly around and around the lubricated head and flicking the tip teasingly into the tiny open slit of the moist gland until she could feel it throbbing as though it had a life of its own and would erupt at any moment into a great gushing fountain of sperm that would flow into her mouth and throat in a never ending stream of memory. A memory she could never forget as long as she lived-blotting out her chances for happiness and a normal relationship with a man until she died and her body had rotted in the grave. A body completely at the mercy of Tony Desmond and his band of merciless hedonists. She would show them, the little teen-aged girl thought crazily in her opium-hazed mind. They wanted her to act like a whore, then a whore she would be! They wanted her to suck, she would suck!
Her head bobbed up and down slavishly over Tony's thick shaft, sucking to end it all. Her tortured drugged mind droned on senselessly, the very helplessness of her position excusing away the weird masochistic sensations again arising erotically in her belly.
"Oooh, that's it! That's it, baby, that's it!" screamed Tony. "Keep sucking with your honey mouth!"
Obediently, Mandy stepped up her mouthing of his hard, fleshy cock. Her lips and nose were pressed against his groin and she could sense the aroused male aroma of his genitals in her nostrils, and she took all his length even though she would have thought that impossible. And her own loins ached with the twin devils of Liz's mouthing and the excitement of her own actions-could she too cum while engaged in such perversions? her mind asked abstractedly.
Gil groaned and twisted near her, yelling obscenities down upon the bobbing head of the blonde child, watching with perverted delight the oval shaped lips straining with his friend's cock. He couldn't stand it any longer! He had been part and parcel of Tony's seduction of this innocent girl, had wanted to stick his own great cock inside her tender pussy and feel the strain of her cunt flesh wrapped around his-but Tony had said no, not until tonight, when everybody could join in the mass gang bang. So be it! It was tonight, and he was going to get his now!
Gil moistened the tip of his middle finger from the wetness of her cunt, feeling the nibbling lips of his girl as she continued her frenzied kissings and fingered herself to orgasm. "That's it Liz," he urged her on, "keep at it, girl!" Then he slowly stroked his finger along the crevice of Mandy's tight, tiny anus, mumbling incoherently in the excitement of having this young voluptuous body twisting under the torment of sucking his friend's penis. The tip of his finger, slippery with saliva and vaginal juices, circled teasingly around the tight nether ring guarding the entrance to her rectum for a moment and then with a sudden thrust popped deep inside.
Mandy jerked forward from the unexpected digging pain and Tony thrust deeper, impaling her mouth in his fleshy shaft until she felt as though it would choke her to death. She gagged slightly at the choking entry and struggled to regain her breath. It came in great gasping sounds as she sucked in her breath from the double pressures of the long, thick cock and the prodding finger in her anus. Grunts of protest escaped around the tightness of her lips as Gil ground further into the expanding tightness of her rectum until she thought she would faint from his cruel probe.
But she wanted to get it over with. She wanted to end the degradation that would release her from this monstrous bondage. The bondage of Tony and his gang, and of the ever increasing bondage of her own turmoiled emotions as they began to respond more and more to the carnality she was being forced to partake. She sucked hungrily, her mouth salivating as it never had before as Gil behind stretched and pulled at the puckered ring of her rectum and chuckled obscene observations lewdly to Liz as she mouthed at will the white fleshy confines of her wet down-turned cunt.
Tony laughed maniacally. "Now for more of your initiation, baby!" A chorus of agreements came from the closing ring of the others. "Gil there is going to give you the ride of your life! Old Gil is the master at this rear end stuff!"
Mandy couldn't believe what Tony was saying. Tony-Tony, the boy she had loved, had given herself to and trusted-no! She had prepared herself for anything now, and she would have done anything Tony had asked of her but what he was commanding be done by Gil wasn't human! It wasn't right! He couldn't mean it! Not if he loved her, really cared for her the way he had once said! He was just trying to frighten her, that was it, trying to make her plead and crawl with him. He wouldn't let his friend make love to her there, not like an animal! She clenched her legs and buttocks together, grinding her thighs into Liz's head inadvertently, in the reaction to the horrible thought.
"Man, what a tight, hairless little ass," she heard Gil croon from behind. "I'm gonna love this!"
Through the opium haze she felt his thick, stubby fingers open her buttocks, drawing her cheeks wide apart. She tried to hold them tense but the pressure of his thumbs was too great, and they stretched away from each other until she could feel the cool air rushing into the hot interior between her legs.
"It's too tight," Gil gloated from his position. "Better stretch it a little more."
She felt his finger as the boy probed to his first knuckle, and she bucked from the surprise skewering her ovaled mouth more violently down on Tony's surging cock. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks as the realization came to her that Tony had not just been talking, that he was going to allow his friend to make love to her back there. He was going to let Gil plant his long penis fully up her virginal rectum in an unnatural act of love that she didn't even known existed before tonight. This was the ultimate humiliation and surrender, and flickering images of the other six members of the Demon Friars hovering in the near background drifted through the periphery of her hazed vision, and she cowered as she thought that she would be on display to them in the most obscene and degrading ways possible. She would never live through this-could never face her mother again after this horror and subjugation. She cringed her soft rounded buttocks away from Gil but it was useless. He planted the palm of his hand on the small of her back and pushed down tight, the fingers digging cruelly into the naked skin of her back passage, expanding it more mercilessly as he prepared it for his coming assault.
As suddenly as he had shoved his finger in her anus, he pulled it back out again. It seemed to slip out reluctantly, the elastic ring of her rectum clinging to it until it popped out with a slight sucking sound. He forced her legs wider and then lowered his naked body until he was straddling both the buttocks of Mandy and the slaving head of Liz Bradley. He then commanded Liz: "Kiss her there, up on her anus so I can get some lubrication!"
Moaning indefinable mewlings-where they pleasure or pain? Mandy couldn't tell which-her best girl friend raised her head slightly and began to lick and tease the tiny puckered ring. Her dartings brought acute tinglings of excitement to Mandy, unwanted and hated sparks of arousal, which Mandy tried in vain to quash. The idea of a girl-and not just any girl, but a girl she had literally grown up with-placing her tongue and lips to her buttocks and anal opening was abhorrent and degrading! But it felt good! It felt goddamned good, and Mandy unconsciously slipped back slightly so that more of her backsides were open to her teen-age friend.
"Kneel up!" Gil commanded harshly, eager for the ultimate subjugation of her shaking body.
Mandy hesitated a moment and felt his hand on her hips jerking them higher, away from Liz's hungry mouth, and her buttocks were waving in the cool evening air, waving as if in open invitation to the terrible ravishment about to begin. She sobbed around Tony's thundering cock in abject helplessness.
"Man, she wants it, Tony!" Gil croaked. "You oughta see the hairless little thing puckering and begging for it!"
His hands grasped harshly, holding her hips steady and then she felt his long, turgid penis-his cock which she had spied that night on the beach as he was about to plunge in the waiting cunt of the girl who was now licking her own pussy-she felt it impress itself in the moist naked split of her behind. She moaned from the first contact in surprise and jerked forward again in an attempt to move from it.
"Hold her steady, Tony!" Gil shouted at his friend. "The little bitch is slipping!"
Her boyfriend's hands quickly dug into Mandy's shoulders, pressing them hard and flat so she could not move. She was wide and helpless before the unnatural onslaught of the depraved man behind her as his hairy loins and his enormous penis searched her upturned crotch.
His hands coursing down over her buttocks, his thumbs pressing on either side of the tiny puckered anus, Gil pressed his great cock to her sweet virginal hole. Many felt the penis that was soft and rubbery at first and then grew into a hard, unresisting bluntness.
"Ohhhhhh, no! no!" she pleaded around the sawing penis of her boyfriend. "I can't take it!" She screamed and groaned, but her voice was muddled from the opium and the thick stump which filled her cheeks, and even if she had been heard distinctly it would have been to no avail.
Her sounds echoed on deaf ears. The others had already sunk to the floor and began their own forms of sexual perversion. The six were divided equally by sex, but not by position; four being in a wild sucking circle of mouths to genitals, and the other two fucking dog fashion so that they could watch the initiation while still enjoying their mutual releases. Later they would switch and re-group until at last they would all have had each other one way or another and as many times as possible ... later, after the two new girls were fully made members of the gang.
For Mandy, there was nobody in the room any longer, nobody in the world except the excruciating torture of her anus from the beast behind her and the overwhelming sensations from her girl friend's mouth below her and the throat-stabbing length of her boyfriend's penis as Tony surged maniacally into her desperately sucking mouth. There was no escape from this horror and degradation of the depraved attack upon her body, and the multiple intrusions of her bodily orifices vibrated through every fiber of her being, and she grunted in submission and groaned in anguish. She had never fell so soiled and debauched in her life and her whole being was wet and used as the three teenagers levered and lunged and stroked crazily into her.
She was dimly aware of Gil chuckling to himself as he looked down at her tiny anal ring pulling small ridges of her pink, clasping flesh out with the base of his cock, and then he would push hard and lunge, his rampaging cock trapping her servile kneeling body between the skewering from behind and the cock in front.
Tony groaned again and surged his penis into her hollowing mouth with renewed power. He knew that now this once innocent girl was his to do what he willed with. She was his slave kneeling before him to follow his every wish and command and that there was no resistance left in her tender young frame. He would give it to her as she had never had it before, and she would love it-she would learn to love it-and he thought that she was already getting to enjoy it as he watched the movement of her lips and buttocks as she worked and ground back onto the two males like a female devil, her long blonde hair streaming around her face and neck as she squirmed lewdly between them.
Mandy's body quivered and her thighs, released now that her resistance had been shattered, periodically convulsed as an extra hard thrust seated into her tortured ass-hole. She heard Tony's grunts of pleasure above her bobbing head, and she hated herself and her body for the joy it was giving him and Gil-and she had to admit, beginning to give herself as well-and there was nothing she could do about it. The humiliation was too great. Trapped in this position before the lewd eyes of the Demon Friars while three teenagers slaved over her body was too much for her tormented body to absorb. She had to end it, she had to, and she prayed for the strength to please them.
But as she continued buffeting between the double skewers, the raging fire of pain caused by Gil's invasion began to lessen more and more and a strange wetness could be felt in her rectum. A masochistic ambivalence of agony and rapture began in her loins and her body started to undulate in small circles. There seemed to be a weirdly pleasurable sensation in her anus, different than being fucked in her vagina, but definitely just as exciting. Crazy thoughts spun through her mind now, thoughts of such a nature as to make her shake with their salaciousness. She was beginning to enjoy it! Oh ... oh, God, how could she not help but enjoy it!
Her fevered, opium burned mind began to fill with torrential explosions as she gave her emotions and energies totally to the double drumming cocks and the still lapping tongue. Everything else-the fear, the self-guilt, the hatreds-were pushed more and more to the periphery of her consciousness as the sensations in her body grew and her lusts responded with automatic greed, swamping her every flesh and fiber. She found that she was responding, really responding, and her complexion changed from that of pallor to the flush of sexual frenzy, and she bared her teeth around Tony's cock as further-blasts of overwhelming delight emanated from her anus. Dear God! She was hopelessly impaled, and her brain became an inferno of desire. Sensuous thrills catapulted from one end of her being to the other as further she sunk to the full pleasurability of her position. She resumed the task of fucking and sucking the mammoth axis which seemed to run through her like a skewer on a giant roasting spit.
Suddenly Liz cried out: "I'm there! I've cum! Ahhhh!" And with that she heaved and bucked her wildly undulating body and her legs stretched to their fullest extensions and then dropped with a loud thump of heels as she fingered the last of her orgasm, pulling with her hands the climax from her cunt. Then she lay back, semi-comatose, sighing contentedly.
She was not to be left in peace. The short stocky lad who had given her and Mandy the peace pipe earlier had detached himself from the human chain of lips and loins, his desire to fuck this new recruit driving him to the point of frenzy. He staggered across to her, tugged at her legs and as she smiled at him, his efforts to induce her to him grew more strongly.
"Come on," he growled at the black-haired teenager. "You have to let us all have a turn at you. That's the rules."
"But-"
"You have to if you want to be a Demon Friar...."
Liz nodded, her resolutions shattered by the opium and her own carnal abuse. She crawled out from between the undulating buttocks of her girl friend, Mandy, and joined the boy. His hands dipped to her cunt, inflaming them with renewed desire, and she dipped her head down, down to where his thick cock stood waiting her tender lips....
Still another boy came over to where Mandy was between the two others. The boy, the tow-headed one named Roger, could barely breathe in his excitement. His penis heaved with throbbing hardness. He glanced once at the other couples and three-somes and then again he watched transfixed as Tony's cock shoved into the blonde girl's mouth, her head bobbing like a yo-yo on a string while her tight rectum clenched Gil's slamming, jolting penis as though it were a tight, rubber hand. God almighty!
He slipped down by the girl, facing her wildly surging buttocks, fascinated by the rampaging cock which smashed against the quivering and unimpeded anus. He held his breath as the puckered flesh withdrew and sank from the brutal thrusts, and then, delirious from the passionate view, he traced his fingers over her thighs and dipped them down and felt the soft cuntal fleece which was still wet from Liz's mouthing. Then Roger lowered his head and began to worm his way face-up under Mandy's heavily perspiring belly, letting her soft warm skin beat a tattooo of sexual cadence against his nose and cheeks. Slowly he slithered farther in, and Mandy sensed his erotic presence. She trembled, her mind a complete shambles as she tried to conjure up the image of three men all fucking her at the same time! It was too wild! Too mind-blowing to be real!
The blonde-haired teen-age girl lolled her tongue crazily along the base of Tony Desmond's bulbous cock, wildly jerking her loins to the sensuous abuse that he and Gil were performing on her. Ohh! her mind cried. I can't think! These feelings in my behind and mouth are driving me insane! Tears came to her eyes and she shoved her buttocks back against Gil's pile-driving penis, pushing the surging shaft deeper into her crazed rectum.
The other boy moved still more under her kneeling body, this time lifting her leg and turning his own naked from around so that he was stretched out in parallel to her, his legs stretched out behind her, in between the heavily flexing thighs of Gil. His stiff cock brushed against Mandy's warm, moist pubic hair and she waved her impaled buttocks wildly, bringing a moan of contentment from Gil's throat. The boy sodomizing her allowed the girl to lower her grinding cunt lips over the new boy's animal-like cock and furiously Roger surged upward, his buttocks driving off the floor as he rammed his penis deep inside the sweet, near-pure, fire-filled pussy.
Mandy's vagina seemed to have a suction of its own and it sucked up Roger's hardened cock to its hilt without a quiver. And there was nothing then between Gil's and Roger's hard cocks except the thin membranous wall separating Mandy's vaginal and rectal tunnels. And then, as if by some prearranged signal, Roger and Gil began to fuck her in unison, until only their engorged cockheads remained inside her, Roger's held in place by the inner lips of her now insatiable cunt and Gil's held by the constricted sensation-filled anus ring. Then the two boys plunged deep inside her, their stiffness pushing against each other along the twin channels of her writhing belly.
"More!" she groaned around the cock buried in her mouth. "Mmmmmmmm!"
They gave her more, heaving and crashing into her like the pounding waves of the Pacific nearby. Again and again they fucked into her, their testicles making harsh slapping sounds when they hit flesh. Soft gushing sounds of fluid seeping around the pink peninsula of stretched flesh beneath her dually ravaged orifices were like the tide upon the beach.
Delight flowed through Mandy Simpson now, sending her deliriously into another world. She massaged the soft scrotum of Tony's balls, his hard shaft completely absorbed between her ovaled lips. She sucked in time to the mighty pummeling she was experiencing in her pussy and ass-hole, her tongue flickering around the tiny split and Tony flexed his buttocks and watched the crown of Mandy's head bob on his cock as simultaneously she worked her buttocks to the relentless hammerings of the two other boys.
The new boy was able to view the salacious sight of the teen-age blonde girl pucker her lips around Tony's massive cock. The sight made him shove his own loins further against the girl's cunt and he watched as the almost brutal surge made her peel back her lips with delirium and cling to Tony's penis grotesquely with her teeth. Then her lips closed over the swollen rod of hard flesh and continued to suck it voraciously. It was a masterful vision, blurred as it was with the increasing rhythm of their impending explosion.
Mandy sensed the growing excitement and sucked her boyfriend's prick harder and dug her nails gently into the blood engorged flesh of his shaft, leaving thin white trails where she scraped it. Anytime now ... anytime ... !
Suddenly Gil began to howl behind her and then Tony took up the chant and they both fucking up into her cunt from beneath started to wail. This was it! It was time! The perfect harmony of it all made Mandy gasp for she too was growing like an inflating balloon. The small dark room lit in strange colors and blinded her momentarily as the shock of her impending climax rocked her loins. Her whole body seemed to drop to the depths of carnal emotion. She was so near ... so near....
The boy beneath shot his cum deep up into her pussy like some great rocket ship blasting into the black emptiness of space. He writhed furiously beneath her and he watched the beautiful girl's face milk hungrily at the juice of Tony's tremendous orgasm. Mandy worked furiously as Tony's cock began a sudden spasming and hot jets of his sperm spewed into her mouth. It was ... it was like nothing she had ever tasted, and she couldn't get enough of it. She groaned and her throat swallowed the gushing torrent and she clasped her lips in a tight elastic ring around the pulsating head. She wanted to suck it dry, and for a while it seemed as though it would go on forever, until finally the hands clamped to the sides of her head fell away and the giant cock gave one last hot spurt and stopped.
"Aaaahhhhhh!" yelled Gil and his giant staff grew and expanded back in her tightly clenching rectum until the girl thought it would never stop.
"Oh, God, cum, cum, please cum!" she grunted in masochistic pleasure and fucked back against his cock wildly.
Gil gasped incoherent words and shoved forward with a mighty thrust that almost tore the walls of her quivering rectum apart, and he shuddered his thick semen in wave after wave into the depths of her bowels. She knelt, with Tony's rapidly deflating penis still draining in her mouth and the third boy's already limp cock lying in her vagina, and pressed tight against the boy's hairy loins as he poured forth his seed, filling her anal passage to the bursting point with his warm, sticky wetness.
Mandy, her climax triggered by the sudden surge of the boys gulped and swallowed the semen in her mouth and her anal muscles closed like a fist around Gil's ejaculating cock-and then her chest screamed as the power of her body unleashed for the moment everything had been leading up to. There was no time, no space, nothing except the unbelievable pleasure of her climax. She was battered time and time again by the spasmodic pulsations of the lustful straining fibers of her whole being.
Gradually the three boys withdrew from the teen-age girl. Tony's came last, for she continued to nibble it sucking the last vestiges of his great cum. Then he too slid away. She raised her head and smiled at her boyfriend and kissed him slippery, sharing the remaining droplets of his seed which glistened on her lips with her lover.
"Christ!" Gil sighed, collapsing against the floor.
"Yeah," groaned the boy who had fucked her in the vagina. "Jesus!"
Tony softly cradled the near comatose girl in his sweaty arms. He whispered in her ear; "You were wonderful, baby. You really know how to get with it." He hugged her close to his still heaving chest. "You are a member now."
Drowsily, the spent little girl looked up at the boy, her heavy head on his lap. She thought: welcome to the club, like it or not.
"There's going to be more, too, baby," Tony continued. "Soon as you rest up you can join the others. Baby I-"
Suddenly one of the other members, who had stepped out of the room to go to the bathroom down the hall came bursting back in. His cock swayed like a horizontal pendulum in front of him as he ran, but he took no notice of his odd look. His eyes were wide with terror.
"Cheeze it!" he yelled at everybody. "It's the fuzz!"
CHAPTER 9
It was, Mandy Simpson thought in stunned incomprehension, like a mouse nest when the cat pounces in unexpectedly. The moment the boy cried out his warning that the cops were arriving, pandemonium reigned supreme as everybody grabbed for their clothes and scrambled in an hysterical attempt to escape the long arm of the law. There was no time for idle thoughts of how or who, no time to collect one's thoughts and calmly figure the logical way out-no time even to relight the knocked over candle. There was nothing except darkness, the scuffing of bare feet on the floor and the wails and yells of the boys and girls.
She stood in the middle of the floor, her toes wet from the lubrication and semen the four of them had just puddled there, and ran her hands through her hair for a crazy moment. She was stunned, having been thrown to her wobbly feet by the sudden surge of Tony as he leaped to his feet immediately. The opium still dulled her awareness and the shock of the happenings slowed her reactions still more-but then there was a sharp crack of a hand across her face, which made her see brilliant white for an instant and the rough voice of her boyfriend.
"For Christ's sake, Mandy, let's go. Stop standing there like some fucking statue, will you? Hurry-this way!"
Frantically, not even bothering to collect her things, the girl instinctively held out her hand and was jerked nearly off balance by Tony. She ran with him, bumping into dark, unknown shapes of the other Demon Friars as they scurried, knowing only that her one chance lay in the strong hand which had hers, her mind an absolute fury of panic and indecision.
They made it to the French windows and out to the garden. Behind her was the patter of more footsteps and she could make out the running figures of Liz and Gil as they followed.
"To the car!" Tony called out to Gil. "It's the only way!"
Sirens were wailing close by and Mandy in terrified horror watched as police cars converged on the mansion from the direction of Tucker. The lights swept the roads before them and into the bushes and trees and homes as they turned the narrow corners of the twisting road, and above them, like avenging demons, the red domes blinked in spiraling anger. She wanted to cry, to curl up on the grass and cover her face and let everything pass overhead.
But of course that couldn't be. Tony yanked her to the green Mustang, almost threw her bodily inside and slammed the door. A second later the door burst open again and Gil and Liz scrambled into the back. Before they had a chance to shut the door, Tony had the engine going and the car burning rubber away from the house. The wide-swung door closed from the force of the acceleration and the wind pushing against it.
Liz was crying.
"Shut her up!" yelled Tony.
"It's all your fault!" cried out Liz, sobbing. "You bastard!"
"Shut up, I said!"
"Listen to him! The big man! The."
"Little bitch!" Gil rapped her across the mouth. "That's all we're going to take out of you! Another crack and I'll really do you in!"
Liz clapped her hands across her mouth to keep from screaming and slumped down in the seat. She, too, was naked, as were Mandy and Gil. Tony had at least the presence of mind to have grabbed his pants for the ignition key. Mandy turned and saw her black-haired girl friend racked with sobs, her large breasts heaving uncontrollably.
The car was leaping ahead at some phenomenal speed now, and Tony was taking the corners as fast as he dared. He came out of one tire-shuddering curve and then smiled wanly at Mandy, who was huddled near the door.
"How did they know?" Tony asked. "It beats me how the fuzz got onto us. How did they know?"
Nobody answered him. Nobody in the car could.
* * *
Lieutenant Carbo gunned his squad car, cursing the luck. He had them. Right in the palm of his hand he had the whole stinking mess of those punks-and just because one of the patrolmen had gotten itchy and put on his siren and blinker early, the gang had been alerted. Shit!
He stomped down on the gas pedal harder and leaned over the steering wheel and urged his large cruiser still faster. He'd be damned if he was going to let those punks away, those kids in the green Mustang ahead of him. No sir, there they were, their taillights still glimmering like stars ahead of him, egging him on, and he wasn't going to allow them to escape. He knew who was in that car-the hoodlums who had held up that liquor store. Held up and indirectly murdered that poor old owner. Murder!
He had received the shocking report of Perkins's death earlier that evening, shortly after he had gone on duty. It had made his blood steam with anger and resentment. What the hell do these kids think they're doing, anyway? What right have they to swagger and bully and steal and kill? None! He had poured over the reports that had filtered in since the case had opened a few nights previous-and then he had reread them to make sure no clue was left unnoticed.
No patrolman or radio car had spotted the green Mustang so far. Not surprising; it would have been a matter of chance whether the car and an officer happened to coincide. A check-out of the local Ford garages had proved unsuccessful, indicating that (a) the car hadn't been bought new in the area, and (b) it wasn't being serviced at a Ford agency. Repairs at an agency usually was more expensive and a kid would more- likely be having them done at a service station or a corner mechanic or probably by himself or by one of his buddies.
Nobody suspicious had shown up at any of the underground discos and rock joints, and he had a special detail combing them just to be sure that the owners weren't holding out on him. He doubted they were; they knew which side their bread was buttered on. In any case, that had proved a dead-end.
The IBM report from Department of Motor Vehicles had arrived late, and nothing had been found in any of the fingerprint files. He had two stenos working overtime correlating the tab run from the DM V, however, checking where the registered owner of the multitude of green Mustangs lived, how old they were, and so forth. The few names which had been dredged up so far had been checked out immediately, but they weren't even through the "C's" yet, for Christ's sake. This would take weeks! He had prayed that the owner's name wasn't Zyglot or something like that. The detective had groaned with the weight of the problem and gone out for another cup of water. The desk sergeant, as usual, had barely said two words to him. You'd think that he had something stuck up his ass, the way he acts, Lieutenant Carbo had thought as he stomped back in his office.
Something had to break, he had said to himself, tilting back in his swivel chair. Something just had to give.
Something had.
Midnight. The desk sergeant had received a complaint, and knowing the station scuttle-butt he had recognized that the call would be of interest to detective Carbo. He had switched the phone call to the lieutenant. The lieutenant had been very much interested.
The complaint had been from a family in the outskirts of Tucker, up in the hills of the fashionable section. Seems that they had known that their next-door neighbors were away for the weekend, and for the past half-hour they had been hearing some strange noises coming from the interior of the Forsythe mansion. The husband had walked up the road to investigate, and there had been cars parked in the semi-hidden drive and though there had been no lights on, he had heard the distinct high-pitched wailing of a girl screaming. Thus the call.
Carbo had asked: was one of the cars a green Mil slang?
The husband couldn't be sure, but he thought so.
Lieutenant Carbo had lost no time getting into action. This was it, he had known, he had felt right down to his belt buckle. He had radioed for some of the cars to rendezvous at an intersection near there-and after that there had been the plans for the quiet approach and the raid. Scoop all the fish in the net without alarming the neighbors ... that was until Podgorny in Car 4 had not heard the instructions properly and arrived with siren and light, and that had left but one alternative for Carbo. A flying wedge; hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast....
And now this.
Most of the mob had been caught without much trouble. Two had dived out of windows and landed in an unknown (to them) stairwell leading to a cellar and had been injured. Another had been dragged from a coat closet, where he had been cowering under a pile of coats. Yet another, a lithe naked girl, had run into the arms of a patrolman as he came through a door. There had been quite a tussle, and the patrolman had been treated for lacerations and a bitten ear, but the girl had been securely handcuffed to the stairwell and was, at last report, crying bitterly. She had reason to. The time had come to pay the devil's due....
But then there had been the four naked kids dashing from the house, only momentarily seen in the patrol car's headlights and they had piled in the Mustang and torn off. There had been another car who had offered to give chase, but Carbo had countermanded the offer. These were his kids, his pet ones, and if anybody was going to capture them, he wanted to.
Oh, he had played safe. He had radioed ahead and there were roadblocks and converging city, county and Highway Patrol cruisers closing in on them....
But he could feel the blood roaring in his skull as he chased after the green Mustang. Those damned killers, those punks were his.
In the green Mustang Tony pressed his foot to the floor and the tightly wound engine pushed the speedometer still higher. A car suddenly loomed around the curve ahead; Mandy screamed, but Tony twisted the wheel sharply without slackening any of his speed and whipped up on the shoulder and around the car.
"I'll show 'em," he said between clenched teeth, "I'll lose those bastard cops. You'll see."
"Run the wheels offa this car, Tony," Gil said nervously.
"You see that lousy cop?" Tony asked.
"Naw, but he's back there, I bet."
"Lots of good it'll do him. He can't do anything but keep his hands on the wheel, and he's going to have to sprout wings to catch us."
Gill turned again as the road swung in a long arc along the bank of hills. He saw the winking red light of the pursuing police cruiser.
"He's coming," he said and shivered.
The low, distant wail of the siren reached Mandy's ears then, and she looked around, staring first out the back window and now seeing nothing but the blackness of hell behind them, and then she looked at her girl friend. Liz's face was frozen into terror, white as chalk. She turned and watched Tony drive. In his hands was her escape. But even if they did manage to elude the cop behind them? Then what? How could they make it to the Mexican border, and if they did make it across, how would they live?
"Mandy-" Tony said.
"Yes?"
"You're scared."
"Plenty."
From the back seat Gil said, "Me too."
"You think we'll make it?" the teenager asked Tony.
"We're going to try," he said in a hard voice, staring intently at the flash of road ahead. "We're going to try."
"Go faster!" screamed Gil from the back. "I tell you I can see his light!"
Tony's teeth chattered and once again he looked sick. "I don't know this road, man, and the curves are getting worse."
"He's gaining," moaned Liz. "This is it. Now we're done for. Oh, Jesus, help me."
"I gotta get off this highway," Tony said. He pressed down on the accelerator, getting the last ounce of power from the high-performance engine. Still he had to brake and down-shift for the curves, sometimes making the suspension sway dangerously, rocking the four kids back and forth.
"Listen, Tony," Mandy said. She placed her hand on his knee. "Maybe we should stop."
"Stop?"
"What have they got us for? A party, right? Maybe breaking and entering, but we never stole anything, did we? We could say that it was all your friend's fault, the one who is the caretaker of the mansion. We can say we didn't know, that he said he had gotten permission from the Forsythes."
"Oh, su-re. And I suppose the fuzz will merely shrug off this little ride? Hell, I won't get my licensee back for years!"
"Don't listen to her, the stupid broad," yelled Gil from the back. "We can do it, Tony, and then we can get away for good. We go back, and we'll be had. Stat rape, man; the girls are under-age."
The reminder that by having sex with Mandy and Liz-was an automatic statutory rape charge in spite of the consent on the girl's part made Tony's mind up. Fifteen years in Quentin for a little quim? Not him! The motor roared at a speed it had never known before and the tires whined as Tony took the car around a curve, removing his foot from the gas for only a second, and then stepping down as the car catapulted into the second half of the corner. The car screamed And the right front tire blew.
Tony howled and fought the wheel, heard the girls scream like lost spirits in the night as the wheels went crazy and began to slew across the road. He pulled hard, but the backlash was too great and the Mustang leaped from the pavement as if shot from a cannon. It hurtled through a white wooden guard rail, splintering it with a shattered roar and dove in a graceful arc over the side of the cliff. The fall was seventy-five feet. Mandy saw every one of those feet rush past her on the way down, and she screamed and screamed and screamed....
Lieutenant Carbo saw the taillights of the Mustang move erratically toward the cliff, then seem to pause in space and then sail in a long parabola before smashing itself against the rocky valley bottom. The car exploded into a red, long-tailed comet which blazed with furious incandescence then, sending orange and white flames upward to mark its funeral pyre.
He stopped his cruiser and jumped out, his stomach churning, and ran to the broken guard rail. From below him he heard a wild-animal cry from the incinerating car. He scrambled down the face of the rocky slope, hoping that what he had heard was an animal cry because he hoped, for their sakes, the kids were dead before the car had burned.
