The strange story of Chris Cooper's transformation from an overly naive young college student to a mature woman is one that needs to be told. We would like to thank Miss Daniels for this shockingly sexual, but still romantic reworking of this old myth.
FOREWORD
Two of the world's most famous lovers are Orpheus and Eurydice, the two characters from Greek mythology who are continually losing and discovering one another. According to one of the more well-known versions of their story, Orpheus is the young man whom the gods have encharged with singing and playing to the sun, so that it will rise and set. Unfortunately, Orpheus becomes so involved with his music that his girl friend, Eurydice, is enchanted by Hermes, the god of the lower depths and dragged down to the underworld.
In The Disillusioned Virgin by Georgia Daniels, the young actress, Christina Cooper, becomes involved with a celebrity and through infatuation with him, allows herself to be lured into an underworld of sexual violence that she had never dreamed to exist. What happens is an interesting variation on the Orphic myth, with new insights emerging out of the fabric of the age-old tale of descent and resurrection, immolation and revival.
CHAPTER ONE
For Christina Cooper, it all began on the Biloxi Beach twenty miles outside of New Orleans. Overhead the sun was a large silver disc. The sky was light blue and cloudless and everywhere the young blonde looked she was surrounded by people.
"An orgy?" she giggled to the thirty-ish blond man stretched out on a beach towel beside her.
"No, you're trying to give it a label," Ken Scarboro smiled. "I just said there'll be dates and wives present ... though not necessarily with their spouses. You don't have to participate if ... "
"I don't want to."
Christina gave a small laugh, at herself, at the impossible situation.
Her eyes jumped over Scarboro to where his young partner, Tom Hill, lay on the other side of him. Hill gave her a quizzical look, then closed his eyes. When she first sat down beside the pair, Tom had acted interested in her, but now he seemed to have conceded the race to Scarboro.
"You say you do some modeling?" Scarboro's eyes flicked over her pretty young face. "And you act, you're studying drama ... "
"Yes," Chris interrupted. "And I forgot to tell you ... I played Eurydice in the big spring production at Tulane Drama School."
"I don't know anything about plays," Scarboro admitted.
"Well, it was the lead," Chris just had to point out, trying not to betray her nervousness.
Inside, she was flipping! Last night she had seen the well-known songwriter, among a slew of other celebrities visiting New Orleans for the Polio Marathon Benefit, on the late night Jack Jervis TV talk show.
Today her eyes had practically bugged out of her head when she found herself sitting right next to the guy on the beach. And now he was inviting her to a private party that sounded to her like an orgy!
"I don't mean to put down New Orleans," Scarboro said. "But don't you think you should go to California or New York if you want to be an actress?"
"I'm still studying," Chris blushed as the songwriter's eyes flickered over her youthfully voluptuous figure. The curvy young blonde was used to furtive glances like that from men. Ordinarily, she'd just give the guy her deep freeze look, but that was hard to do with someone as important and attractive as Scarboro. In a way, she even enjoyed his looks - they made her feel excitingly naked and sent strange tingling ripples up and down her belly and thighs.
"Well, it's up to you ... about the party," he shrugged. "Look, I've given you the address. You tell them at the door you're a friend of mine. It'll be a good opportunity for you to make some contacts."
"I don't know," Christina sighed and looked at her watch. It was three o'clock. She had to go to a stupid acting class ... at what very well might be one of the most important moments in her life. Maybe Ken Scarboro was right!
Now the songwriter turned back to his partner, tried to pierce through the sullen mood the dark-haired young man seemed to have fallen into.
"What say we take a side-trip to Florida? After all, we've got a few days. Then we can fly back to California."
The tall, long-haired younger man didn't answer. All afternoon he had said nothing but things like "weird" and "far out" and "crazy".
"Jerry Mitchell's got a place in Florida. I read in the trades he's on location in Nevada. I think I'll give him a ring. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we stayed there."
"Sounds good to me," the young man finally said.
Reluctantly, Chris stood up, making as much noise as she could as she gathered her sandals, her portable radio. She wrapped her beach towel around her neck.
"You're not leaving?" the songwriter sensed her movement and looked up.
"I've got a meeting with my drama coach," Chris groaned, trying to sound professional, but knowing at the same time he probably thought it was pretty stupid.
"Damn, you're a pretty girl," Scarboro wrinkled up the corners of his eyes. "If you don't come to the party, take care of yourself. It's been a great afternoon."
She turned and then heard him say, "Hey, Chris, I said you were pretty, but I was wrong."
She blushed. "Pardon?"
"You're a beautiful girl," he said.
"Oh!" she said, shaking his hand and blushing again, much to her embarrassment.
She stood there for a moment, waiting for God-knows-what ... then saw Scarboro look at her as though he'd been expecting her to leave. "Well ... good-bye, Chris," Scarboro smiled.
She walked rapidly up the sand, trying to suppress a wave of disappointment that threatened to make the lovely afternoon end in depression. Despite her stunning looks, Chris was a lonely girl, romantically speaking. Boys her own age somehow bored her ... and older, experienced types like Scarboro weren't exactly in abundance on a college campus. She thought: I've been on this campus three years and I haven't been in love ... no ... not once! Now Scarboro had rushed her and flattered her, but from his casual tone Chris realized she would most likely never see the celebrity songwriter again!
On the bus back to New Orleans, the curvaceous blonde saw one of her classmates from Tulane, Diana Jenkins, but she pretended not to have noticed the girl and took a seat in the back. She had a little secret of her own deep inside her, even though it wasn't much of one and she didn't want anything to disturb it. The water was high on the Lake Pontchartrain bridge crossing over from swampy flood land to Louisiana. Chris closed her eyes and it seemed she could still see the little waves spraying on the bridge ... He said I was beautiful ... God, he thought I was beautiful ...
Opening her eyes, she saw they were passing the summer houses on stilts and the orange oil derricks across the salt marsh from Grand Teche Bayou. She felt in her beach bag for the address Scarboro had given her as the bus crossed down Esplanade Avenue and pulled up in Jackson Square.
Chris waited until everyone ... particularly Diana Jenkins ... had filed out. Then, after getting off the bus, she still held back a moment in the square, out of shame and embarrassment for having ignored the girl. As usual, the square was filled with hippies, a group with some guitars gathered around the stature of General Jackson mounted on a horse. Bright mid-afternoon sun glinted off the old Pontalba Buildings and gray St. Louis Cathedral. When the hot August sun became too much, Chris put on her sunglasses and began working her way past the bars and antique shops through the narrow sidewalks that were crowded with tourists. This was to be her last class of summer session and the group was meeting in her teacher's apartment in honor of the occasion; afterwards, the lonely two-week break before fall semester loomed depressingly ahead. Everyone will be gone, she thought, moving down Pirate's Alley deeper into the vieux carre, New Orleans' old French Quarter proper. Finally, she reached the ancient balconied building; a golden beer bottle flashed down at her, set out among the potted plants behind the lacy grillwork. Chris hurried through the entry to the inner court. By the time she was scrambling up the old staircase, she knew she would be going to the party.
CHAPTER TWO
"How the hell you going to get back to New Orleans?"
"Take a bus," Tom Hill said.
"Take a bus," Ken Scarboro repeated. He frowned, he shook his head, but after working two years with the lanky, dark-haired musician he was no longer really astounded by his partner's eccentricities. He gestured down the beach toward the light surf. "I suppose you want to see the sunset."
"You got no appreciation for nature," Tom's eyes squinted back up at him - partly from amusement, partly from the four o'clock sun glinting off the white sand.
Scarboro's glance flicked searchingly over the emptying beach. "I guess I don't," he admitted. "I guess I'm just a city boy." He looked back down at Tom and said honestly, "You know it doesn't mean a damn thing to me ... "
"Well, catch you later," he swatted the younger man's shoulder and started back up the sand towards the beach house.
"So long," Tom called after him.
Ten minutes later, coming out of the men's dressing room, Scarboro remembered something he had forgotten to ask Tom. He was dressed in an orange polo shirt, sandals and white slacks; he had showered and there was a faint, tangy odor of men's cologne about him. Heading toward the blue Plymouth the Benefit Committee had provided, he realized he had forgotten to ask if Tom was going to the party. But, cleaned up now, he didn't feel like walking back down the beach to ask. Fuck it. He slid into the leathery-smelling front seat and turned on the air-conditioning. Tom wasn't going to the party. As though the sun wouldn't set without him, Tom would sit on the beach, playing his guitar, spend the night wandering through the French Quarter ...
Scarboro took the coastal route back into New Orleans, a narrow two-lane highway. On one side was the shimmering blue gulf, the white sand; on the other, large colonial homes set back under oleander and cypress and huge oak trees dripping Spanish moss. Ken wasn't too interested in nature, but he was in houses. Still, today, his mind was on something else. The first thing he did when he got back to his suite at the Royal Hotel, was to call the Hilton to see if his long-time girl friend, Micki Grant, had come in ...
Already, he was nervous. It had been two long months since he'd seen her.
"Hey, baby!"
There was no answer.
"Micki? Ken."
"I know ... " the brunette singer's voice came down the wire to him cool and distant. "So ... ?"
"I'd like to see you."
"Is that right?" she gave a deep throaty laugh. "What for?" She was being difficult. "Why, Ken darling, you know I'm a married woman now."
Ken flinched and tried a more direct tack. "You know what for," he said in a low meaningful voice.
Once again, there was no answer. She was taunting him. He knew that, but he just had to see her, to hold her wild young body in his arms again ...
"I want to fuck you, that's why ... Is that old coot you married in yet? If so, then you get over here. I'm at the Royal."
Micki broke out in a soft laugh that sent shudders up and down his spine. "Ken, you could never order me around."
"Yeah," he smiled into the huge mirror placed above the bed in the canopy.
"Not that anyone could."
"True," he smiled into the mirror again. "Look, Micki, you're beautiful, you're really big-time. But you're also a goddamn sadist."
"And you love me," she mused. "You're even willing to crawl."
That hit him right between the eyes. With an effort of will, Ken Scarboro controlled his sudden, rising anger.
"I don't care if you've gone and gotten yourself married. It's been two months now. I can't wait any longer!"
"Please, Ken. This is getting ridiculous."
"You bet it is."
Micki was silent for a moment, then he heard the spark of a match as she lit a cigarette. "I don't know. I would like to see you ... it's just that ... "
"Is that what's-his-name in town yet?" he interrupted. "I figure you can come up to my hotel room if he is."
She giggled. "No, Jack's flying in for the show at ten ... But let's live dangerously and you come over to the Hilton ... if you want to see me that bad."
Just the idea made Ken sweat even more than he already was. Micki had made herself quite a match, too big of a match. Jack Maregan, her fifty-ish husband, was among the powerful group of owners of a major movie studio. Officially, he was called a producer. He was also a financial octopus with business interests tentacling into music publishing, recording, nightclubs ... all areas where Ken was vulnerable.
"It'd be a little risky," he hedged, consulting his wrist watch. "It's already five o'clock ... and he might come in early. Anyway, it's easier for you to leave a note ... "
"Look, Ken ... I have to sing tonight! If you've got to see me so damned bad, then you come over to my hotel. I just returned from rehearsal, I've got to have some kind of dinner!"
"Please ... Micki darling?"
"Crawl, then, damn you!" she taunted.
"Okay, baby! I wouldn't do it for anybody else. I'll be there in about forty minutes!" Ken said and hung up the phone.
Goddamned cunt! It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life: Swallow his pride and beg after the alluring brunette. Christ! It was like a goddamned curse. Other people developed fatal diseases, got hooked on drugs, he had to fall in love Micki Grant. That's what it was - a curse. Nothing else could explain to him why he still cared about his former girl friend, although she'd left him over two years ago to marry the rich producer.
Ken's hotel was located on Royal Street and he had some difficulty maneuvering his large car through the narrow streets of the old French Quarter. He headed west and finally got out of the Quarter and into a perfectly ordinary looking business district of skyscrapers on Canal Street. Since it was Saturday, the offices were closed. It was easy going and within minutes he found her hotel. Now he was smarting at Micki's wise-ass comment on his age. He was thirty-six and quite frankly, he was getting a little tired of having to haunt the cocktail lounges, looking for pick-ups ...
With her usual unpredictability, the curvaceous brunette greeted him with her dazzling smile, melted into his arms and raised her lush red lips to him, open-mouthed, for his kiss. Ken's eyes burned down her half-naked body as he bent his head. Also typical of Micki, she'd answered the door in only the briefest of black brassiere and panties.
"Hi, baby," she purred.
Ken held her close in the circle of his arms, his hand groping down along her back to her full-swelling buttocks. Eagerly, his fingers dug through the soft panty material into her resiliently rounded ass-cheeks, while at the same time he absorbed her tongue slithering erotically into his mouth. Her warm cuntal mound was plastered solid and hard against his hotly expanding cock. As he pulled her in even tighter, he felt her hips rotate suggestively against his throbbing penis.
God! It was just like old times again! With Micki it was always great; the voluptuously stacked brunette knew all the little tricks that made fucking her a wild experience. and she never gets enough ... always coming back for more?
Ken lost his train of thought as hot blood pumped pulsingly below to be trapped in his hardening penis. He felt his contracting balls being drawn tight as his erection grew to pulsating fullness inside his straining slacks. It was a mind-blowing feeling and he savored every moment of it. Damn! He was anxious to get her into a bed ...
Finally, several moments later, the intoxicating young brunette leaned back in the circle of his strong arms, breaking their kiss. She grinned teasingly into his face through smoldering gray eyes and asked. "Drink, Ken?"
"You're not on the wagon, I take it?" he grinned back at her.
"Well, not really now," Micki answered. "I was, but I had time to think about it ... while I was waiting for you to get here."
With an impish grin, she turned and led the way from the foyer into the elegantly modernistic living room of the large hotel suite. Boxes of records and tapes and half-opened suitcases were still strung around on the plush white carpet.
Ken followed, enjoying the view of her sexily swaying hips. Her loosely waving coal-black hair tousled softly down past her shoulder blades. She was about the same height as Ken, statuesque and her firm and sun-bronzed curving legs tapered with absolute perfection. Shit! He couldn't begin to count the times he'd been cradled between those gripping thighs as he shoved his demanding cock deep into her tight little cunt.
Going directly to the bar, Micki turned back toward him and asked, "What'll you have ... ?"
"Just you ... " he responded.
"Isn't that something?" she gave him a teasing look. "Ken Scarboro turning down a drink!"
"And for a damned good reason!" he told her, reaching her in three long steps to pull her scantily covered body close again into his arms. His hungry mouth crushed against hers as his tongue shot splurgingly between her parting lips into her moist warm mouth to search and taste. Obligingly, she nibbled and sucked on his thrusting tongue. Moments later, her hand slid in between them to softly caress his pants-enclosed penis.
"Oh yeah, hold my cock." Scarboro found the tab to his zippered fly to lower it, the metallic sigh seeming louder than it really was over the soft music coming from the stereo system. After a second's hesitation, the pretty singer snaked her hand inside the waistband of his jockey shorts to grip the warmly pulsating shaft. Her stroking fingers played along his massively hardened cock until it stood up long and hard in her hand.
"Uuuuuh, that's right, keep touching my cock," the young songwriter thrilled at her clasping touch, his lust-thickened penis lurching involuntarily in her encircling hand. Simultaneously, his hands ran down her nearly naked back. When they reached the curving hollow of her spine, his hands eased down inside her silky black panties to caress her undulating buttocks, feeling them warm and vibrant in his gripping palms. Now he had to get her stripped naked!
Breaking the tongue parrying kiss, Ken leaned back away from her to undo her lacy black brassiere.
"It's been a long time, lover," she said, moving back from him before he could get the clasp undone.
"That seems to be our theme song," he laughed.
Her eyes dropped to the obvious bulge of his pants. "I see your good reason for coming over here," she said, pulling away from him suddenly.
Micki moved back to the bar clad in her temptingly sheer black brassiere and panties and Scarboro zipped up his fly again. Following behind her, he responded, "And I'm about to fuck the daylights out of you with it."
The brunette singer picked up a bottle of vermouth and Ken put it back. She reached for some gin, but he slid it away down the counter before she could make the connection. "Did you hear what I said?"
"You want to fuck me."
Scarboro turned her around, his hands on her shoulders. Shrugging out from his strong grip, she swung back to the bar and began making them drinks. "I'm sorry, Ken," she looked sorrowfully up at him. "But there just isn't time."
"Time? For Chrissakes, we got all evening!"
"Now, don't get mad. I just had a call from Jack," she turned from the bar with a helpless expression on her face. "He left Los Angeles early. He's due at any moment."
"BULLSHIT!" Scarboro felt himself losing control. "You don't know how tired I am of your little games."
"No games, Ken. It's true ... Hey, what are you doing?" She followed as he left the room for the entry hallway.
"Making sure this frigging door is locked," he said resolutely.
"No, Ken. Don't do that," she protested from where she stood now in the entry of the foyer. Hopefully, Ken thought he detected a wavering in her voice. "Wellllll, it's safer to leave the front door unlocked ... I'll lock my bedroom. I can always be pouting."
Goddamn! Now she's going out of her way so I can ball her! Micki changed moods with every tick of the clock. Women! I'll be damned if I understand them! Not that he was complaining, though ... now.
"And which one of these doors is to your bedroom?" Ken grinned as he stepped back into the living room.
"The one on the right," she smiled. "But don't say I didn't warn you. We're up thirteen stories."
Then they were in a large slightly darkened bedroom, orange-ish in the half-light and Ken was kicking off his sandals and dropping his pants.
"Mmmmmmm ... same old Ken," his former girl friend watched him from where she sat on the edge of one of the two king-sized beds, her eyes playing eagerly over his muscular, broad-shouldered body as he took off his shirt. Finally, he stepped out of his jockey shorts and stood naked before her, his pulsing erection spearing out excitedly from the reddish-blond pubic hair covering his loins.
"Let's see those tits, now." The songwriter came to her, reached around behind and unfastened the hooks of her lacy black brassiere. The flimsy cloth came off in his hands to release her voluptuously full breasts, the valley between them narrow and deep. Damn! She was such a mouth-watering delicacy. In the next instant, he had dropped his mouth to one of her spiked-out nipples. His lips engulfed it to suck and nibble, while his hand cupped its sensually full twin, his strong fingers digging passionately into the pliant flesh. She moaned softly as he sank down beside her on the huge bed. As they lay on their sides, her hips undulated in tiny massaging circles against his aching penis trapped between their tightly pressed bellies.
Jack Maregan's wife felt that telling weakness in her knees, which signaled her building arousal. Ken always seemed to affect her like that ... Ken was the best!
Backing away from him and forcing him to stop his ardent sucking of her swaying breasts, Micki reached for a pillow and stretched out again on the bed. She lay on her side facing him, her smoldering eyes wandering hungrily over his lust-stiffened cock. He was gaping at her temptingly lush nakedness and she reached out and under to stroke his lust-sensitized testicles.
"Ken ... darling, I've got to tell you something," she began.
"Can't it wait, baby?"
"No," she answered levelly. "I want to tell you now. I'm going to Europe ... for six months. I don't want to, Ken, but Jack insists."
Six months! Ken fought the gruesome thought out of his consciousness for now. "You pick the damnedest times to talk, Micki! What I want right now is to get into your hot little cunt!"
"Okay, but we'd better do it quickly, darling ... because we don't have much time ... remember?"
Her hand was still fondling, scratching lightly along his churning testicles. With the other, she grasped his rock-hard cock, expertly working the loose foreskin back over the angry red head. A tiny, viscous droplet oozed from the split in its tip as his lust-stiffened penis jerked and expanded involuntarily in her clasping palm.
"Yeah, I know," his voice came over irritated in his disappointment. "So are we going to do some fucking ... or waste more time talking?"
"I just wanted ... "
Her statement was cut off in mid-utterance as his hand clamped over her upper thigh.
"Oh, Jesus, I love your hand on my panties," Micki looked down at the songwriter's hand caressing her loins just at the edge of her skimpy black panties. She moaned as he made contact with the tight elastic crotch band up between her legs, his fingers rubbing the moistly throbbing lips of her vagina through the soft smooth nylon. Shuddering at the warm touch, her trembling thighs jerked farther apart. Her legs wanted to spread wide, her hot little pussy needing his thickly worming finger far up inside her belly.
"Oh, yes! Finger-fuck me!" the dark-haired singer pleaded.
She shivered as his extended middle finger slipped up under the tight elastic panty leg band at the top of her thigh. Then another finger was inserted and together they thrust probingly at her sparse hair-covered cuntal lips, sending a jolt of wild excitement rippling upward through her thinly clad belly.
"Oh, Ken, it's so good ... don't stop ... please!" She gave a helpless moan under his lewdly massaging hand.
The blond-haired bachelor gazed lustfully down at her parted thighs and saw the escaping pussy hairs spilling out from the leg band in teasing black wisps. He could see his own fingers beneath the sheer black panty fabric, fondling her moist vaginal lips, could feel her pussy's intimate warmth hungering for him to touch the wetly erected little bud of her clitoris!
Ken moved his middle finger closer to her hot little pussy opening as she stroked his rapidly enlarging penis. Ever so slowly, he parted her soft dark pubic curls and eased his finger up into the wetly throbbing orifice of her cunt, slipping it up inside her warmly quivering flesh until it was hidden almost to the first joint in her dilating vagina; then he gave a slight, tender shove forward. She twisted, squirmed and leaned lewdly back on the mattress, her long white legs parting for more as her loins arched up onto his embedded finger. Her cunt was wonderfully tight, he thought, as tight as the day he had first fucked her! The dampness from her lust-warmed vagina spread down over his cupping hand, soaking the narrow panty crotch band with secreted cuntal juices that were just beginning to flow between her trembling thighs.
"Oooooooh, God ... Ken, your hand on my pussy feels so good ... so goooood. God, honey, take off my panties!"
With a low murmur of lewd agreement, Ken wound his fingers into the tight elastic waistband of her skimpy black panties and worked them slowly down over her gently flaring buttocks and legs and off her ankles.
"Uuuuuuuuuuooooo," she crooned at the sudden presence of the cool air washing over her exposed curl-fringed cuntal mound.
In the next second, he had pushed her down hard on her back. Taking one hurried look at her lust-inciting nakedness spread out on the mattress beneath him, he crawled up between her widespread knees. The peach silk bedspread brushed against his sperm-laden balls, sending an obscene anticipatory thrill through him. He shoved her thighs roughly apart so that they swung out from his sides in a picture of lewd urgency. Then he kneeled up on the bed, his long thick penis poling and wagging in its fore-skinned hardness.
"Oh, Ken darling, my beautiful darling, with his beautiful cock!" She moaned, gasping at its solid hardness, feeling its head and the thick seminal fluid escaping from the tiny hole at the tip of the blunt purplish cock-head.
Damn, damn, damn! He was going to lose his mind completely. Scarboro's desire-hazed brain sizzled as he crawled up between the producer's wife's lewdly widespread legs. Her thighs seemed to be trying to suck him right up into her womb and the long two-month wait for the enticing brunette singer had charged him to an early combustion point. He felt her hand reach down to grasp his lust-engorged cock-shaft and draw its heavily pulsing head up through the warm moistness between her hair-lined pussy lips ... finally seating it at the tight little mouth of her greedily nibbling vagina.
"Oh, baby, do it to my pussy! Push it all the way up into me. Fuck me!" Micki gasped into his face, her arms wrapped around his back to crush his massive chest tight against her nipple-hardened breasts.
Her long trim legs curled up and over his hips, her heels digging salaciously into his rock-hard buttocks as she thrust her begging loins up at his in brazen invitation.
"For God's sakes! Give it to me now, my darling! Fuck me!! Ken! FUCK ME AND MAKE IT GOOD!"
With one smooth forward thrust of his hips, Ken lunged deep into her hotly throbbing cunt, his brain crazy and spinning as her fluid heat clasped his thick racing cock like a warm velvet sheath! He choked out a slack-mouthed groan and began to fuck up into her insatiably swallowing pussy in long urgent strokes, filling her wetly receptive cunt to greater and greater depths!
Jesus, she felt good!
As usual, Micki was tossing herself up at him like a whore, always more turned on than any other woman he'd known in his life. Christ! Goddamnit to hell! Beneath him, his girl friend's lushly ripened body quivered and trembled, her passion-erect nipples digging into his chest with pointed, bullet-shaped pressure. Her rippling belly ground up against his and her powerful thighs clamped his buttocks repeatedly. They held and released him as her wildly clasping vaginal muscles sucked and pulled like a warm wet vacuum at his pistoning cock.
The obscenely sucking pressure caused a wild swirling in his groin. He could feel the enormous turgid head impatiently welling in his cum-expanding balls as he squeezed his buttocks together to hold back the hot liquid flow that was about to explode from his jerking penis.
"C'mon, Micki baby, cum," he gritted hoarsely in her ear.
He counted to himself, holding his breath, trying to stave off what was only a matter of seconds away ... "Oh Christ," he sputtered to the furious milking of her pussy walls squeezing and sucking at his madly jerking hardness.
"Ooooooooh, it's wonderful honey!" Micki's choking words rose above the obscene squeaking of the bed. "Mmmmmmmm, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" she gasped over and over again as she strained and writhed beneath him. "Give it to me, darling. Do it! Do it! Fuck me haaaaaaard!"
Her head rolled from side to side, streaming her blue-black hair over his sweating shoulders and back. Marks appeared on her lips where she was biting them and every so often her moist panting mouth came up against him, her teeth nipping into his chest in pleasure-tinged pain. She sucked lewdly on his tongue, then flicked her own into his mouth, gasping hot breaths into his throat.
Suddenly, the producer's young wife realized that Ken's burgeoning cock up inside her belly was about to explode; she could feel it! The sensation excited her to a fever pitch of desire and her motions became even more frantic beneath him. His fucking thrusts into her wildly quivering pussy became almost brutal in their force. Wilder and wilder he became, tossing her nakedly writhing body beneath him without consideration in his own obscene race toward orgasm.
Then ... she began to cum ... and cum ... and cum some more ... just like she always did with him ... almost unendingly. "Oh, I'm there! I'm cummmmmming! I'm cummmmmmmmmming! AAAAAAAAGGGGH! OH GOD! Fuck me! FUCCCKKKKKK MEEEEEEEE!" Distantly she heard her own voice screaming, "Fuck me" over and over again - like a broken record stuck in one groove.
Ken, also, hardly heard the words she was groaning out at him. He could feel the hot thick sperm amassed in the reservoir of his ballooning balls churning as they beat a tattoo against her nakedly upturned ass. He thrust his tongue almost to her throat and with desperate kneading hands, clutched the fleshy cheeks of her widespread buttocks hard up against his battering pelvis, slamming his semen-spewing cock into her gluttonously receiving cunt.
"Oooooooooohhhh ... uuuuuhhhhhhhh," Scarboro uncontrollably groaned at the first jetting of his scalding sperm. He could feel the turgid, pulsating head of his deeply embedded cock suddenly flare as his hot impatient cum began to flood up inside her spasming belly. He could feel his seething white cum shooting into her with the exploding force of a broken fire hose, sloshing around in her eagerly receptive vagina. He continued to shoot the last of his semen, then, trembling, he relaxed on top of her, panting deeply for several moments, before he finally lifted off.
They lay there silently for a few seconds when suddenly, from each room in the large suite, there was the sound of several telephones ringing simultaneously. With wide, surprised eyes, Micki looked at him helplessly and moaned, "Oh, my God! Jack's here!"
They were galvanized into action. Ken jumped off the bed and began tugging on his clothes. Micki stared frightened at the wall, letting several rings go by, before she picked up the telephone.
"Hello? ... Oh, Jack, darling ... I was sleeping ... no, don't bring them up ... I'll meet you in the bar. Well, okay, dear, if you insist!" She put down the phone and said to Ken, "He's coming right up!"
Scarboro was dressed now, running a comb through his hair. "When can we get together?"
"No! God, not again in New Orleans!" Micki followed him to the bedroom door.
He brushed her lips quickly with a kiss, "But you'll be gone for ... so long!"
"I'm sorry, Ken ... but I can't help it!"
In the hallway, Scarboro stepped into an empty elevator just as Micki's husband was stepping off one further down. The tall, hugely built older man crossed down the hallway, glanced in at Ken. A flash of recognition swept across his face, then the elevator door closed tight between them.
CHAPTER THREE
New Orleans' most impressive street is probably St. Charles Avenue - a long boulevard with a trolley running down the center and lined on either side by huge southern mansions. Christina Cooper lived on Ferret Street just two blocks off of St. Charles. Here the mansions thinned out to be interspersed by more modest houses and Chris lived in one of these - a narrow, two story white frame house with an estate on either side. The smaller home was in good condition with a narrow walk ribboning down the front lawn and well-kept elephant ear plants in pots on the small front porch. The plants were cared for by Miss Corrine, the elderly lady who owned the house and lived upstairs. Chris had one half of the lower floor - a small studio apartment with kitchen and bath. In the other downstairs half, lived a graduate student couple with a baby - the husband was a student at Tulane like Chris was.
When Christina arrived home that night, it was eight-thirty and the sun was just setting, casting pink shadows across the walk. She could hear loud rock music coming from the young couple's apartment, so she knew they were having a party and she could smell Miss Corrine's dinner - spicy chicken gumbo - wafting down the stairs.
Unlocking the door, she burst into her apartment that was cluttered with family antiques and an overlay of books and records young Christina had brought with her. It had been her southern grandmother's apartment before her ... but now that her French Creole "grandmere" was in a home, it gave Chris' mother great pleasure for Chris to live there. Christina wasn't southern, but her mother was. Three years ago, Chris had given up her plans to study in New York, primarily because the apartment was available - and to please her parents.
The pretty young blonde dumped her books and beach bag on a valuable horsehair sofa and went out into the hallway to check the mail.
"Oh, shoot," she mumbled audibly; there was nothing and a wave of disappointment surged through her.
Her parents hardly ever wrote, but she had been hoping for a letter from her sister Susan who was now living on a commune in New Mexico. Chris was the more conservative daughter, although the pretty blonde thought she might have ended up a hippie, too, if Susan hadn't already done it before her.
Hurrying into her kitchen, the young acting student washed down a dinner of corn flakes with a glass of wine, then popped in and out of her tiny shower and dried herself.
All the while, she nervously studied her reflection in the mirror. Since the age of thirteen she'd been aware of her beautifully formed body, almost embarrassed by it, but on a night like this, total assurance was important. Christina didn't plan to participate in any orgy, but there was no denying - if she meant to be honest with herself - that she was secretly hoping Ken Scarboro might make love to her.
Christina was no virgin. Two years ago, when she was a freshman, she had lost her innocence in very brief affairs with two boys. Neither experience had been very exciting. Everything had happened in a great rush and suddenly been over just when she was getting warmed up! Worse yet, both boys had come to her the next day and told her they were sorry, leaving her with a guilty, distasteful feeling. So since then, expecting more of the same, Christina hadn't been interested ... but now, with Ken Scarboro, she reasoned, it just had to be different.
Even when the steam cleared, the mirror in the bathroom was too small and Chris moved impatiently out into her sitting room-bedroom to get a better look at her naked young body in the mirrored doors on the armoire. By now, it was nine o'clock. Chris had been too busy to draw the curtains and the small cluttered studio apartment was suffused with a rosy light.
Trying to be objective, she studied her reflection in the mirror ... she stood slightly shorter than average, but her slender build added height so no one ever really noticed it. Her naturally platinum hair - the result of Scandinavian heritage on her father's side - was parted on one side and stood out in a slight fluff around her shoulders. Her features were delicately formed, her eyes a startling blue in contrast to her tanned skin and light hair.
Her eyes drifted over the rest of her body, taking in with one slow sweep her lushly rounded breasts, her small hour-glass waist and full womanly hips. She had an old-fashioned kind of body, all curves. With obvious pleasure, her hands went up to fondle and massage her youthfully swelling breasts. As she rolled the tiny, bud-like nipples between her fingers, she watched in fascination as their darker pink aureoles crinkled up around them. She shuddered with delight and her eyes flicked down to her blonde, sparsely-fringed pussy. It must have been flirting with the important older man, she thought, which made her remember what a voluptuous young body she had. She stopped herself, just as she was about to touch her tingling pussy lips and pulled her favorite blue miniskirt and stacked heels from the armoire.
Dressing in the dimming light, Chris felt more confident now. Still, Ken Scarboro was no inexperienced college boy. One glance at her curvaceously naked body had assured her she had all the right equipment. The question remained: Would she know what to do with it?
A half-hour later, the pretty drama student was stepping off the porch of the white frame house where she had her apartment and walking the two blocks down to St. Charles Avenue and the trolley. The old wooden trolley came almost right away and Chris entered from the back, bought her fare from the ticket-taker in the rear and sat down on a wooden slat bench behind a couple who were speaking Spanish.
It was ten o'clock now ... totally dark and Chris glanced briefly out at the large southern homes twinkling lights on either side. An incident of no seeming importance flashed into her mind with new significance. When Chris had stepped out into the hallway for her mail, the young brunette housewife had opened the door on the other side.
"Oh, hi! I heard footsteps and was afraid it was 'four eyes'," she had nodded up at Miss Corrine's.
"No, just me checking the mail," Chris had said. "I haven't heard from my parents for six weeks now."
"Weird parents ... you smell anything funny?"
"No."
"Well, that's good," the saucy dark-haired girl winked meaningfully and with a slight wave of her hand at Chris, stepped back into her apartment as rapidly as she had first popped out of it.
Chris remembered feeling befuddled ... because the young couple had more or less forced her into a conspiracy against Miss Conine, who was nosy, she had to admit. But the point was that while the young couple had pot parties, Chris, in three whole years, had had absolutely nothing to hide. There's nothing worse than having an agreement to "live and let live", she thought now, when I have about as exciting a life as ... well, a grown up Girl Scout! But now, with the prospect of being seduced by famous songwriter Ken Scarboro, she felt wicked, guilty ... but somehow good about it!
Chris ran a comb through her hair one last time and got off the streetcar in the Garden District, an exclusive residential neighborhood between St. Charles Avenue and the river. Walking down the quiet, tree-lined streets, the address struck Chris as somewhat odd - she would have expected a party like this to be held down in the Quarter where the artists and more flamboyant types lived. Still, it was convenient for Chris - she had ridden the trolley all the way and reaching the big house glittering like a jewel box, the staid address was reassuring.
Chris' heart did a flip-flop when Jason Crawford, a well-known TV cowboy star, opened the door, looming over her at, at least, six foot seven. Her throat went dry when he immediately wrapped a big arm around her shoulder. He was dressed in jeans, a shirt and big boots - just as though he were on the screen, except for the drink in his hand. "Hi, my name's Jason," he said - as if she didn't already know! - "And you're name is ... is Linda," he decided.
"No, Chris. Christina Cooper," Chris stumbled.
"Well, come on in anyway, honey," he was moving her now down the hallway with the sheer force of his massive arm. "This isn't my party," he bent down to breathe in her ear. "But I'll tell you, honey, it's a good one."
"Wh-whose party is it?" Chris tried to inch away.
"The Carson's, oil people," he didn't seem to be bothered by the fact of her crashing the party. He pulled her tight against his chest, "Say, that's some skirt you're almost wearing."
Finally, they reached the end of the foyer and stood at the entrance to the huge living room. Christina blinked - not sure just what to think for the moment. What she saw was simultaneously both better and worse than she had been expecting. The ornately old-fashioned room was impressive - big enough for a six-piece Dixieland band at one end. Couples were dancing on the floor, frustrated looking men tried to elbow their way through them to the bar at the room's other end - just as at any other big party Chris might have gone to.
On the other hand, there was a wildness about the scene that Chris had never encountered before or even imagined. Men and women were lewdly fondling each other on the davenports, in large corner chairs that hugged the shadows of the candle-lit room. She looked closer and saw that most who were dancing clung to each other as if they had been born that way. Anxiously entwined twosomes brushed past her and Crawford in the wide entry way, making their way through the foyer and up the big staircase ... obviously to the bedrooms.
Crawford neatly angled them through the crowd to the bar. "What'll you have, pretty Chris?" the actor waved for the barman, then resettled his arm tight around Chris' back, his fingertips coming to rest just at the beginning swell of her upthrust young breasts.
"A gin and tonic," the curvaceous blonde said decisively. "Actually, though, I'm supposed to meet someone. Maybe you know him, his name is Ken ... "
Suddenly, Chris jumped as two strong masculine hands settled on her waist. "Okay, Crawford," she looked back to see Ken Scarboro standing right behind her. "She's taken for the evening." As he turned back to Chris, his face was flushed, flushed from drinking and a reassuring pleasure at seeing her. "You actually came! I didn't think you would."
Chris was speechless with relief.
"How'd you get here?" he said, casually removing Crawford's arm. He moved up on her other side and wound his own arm around her back where the actor's had been.
"I took the trolley."
"The trolley," he burst into laughter, then seeing her blush, "Sorry, baby, I'm in one of those moods where everything strikes my funny bone."
"In other words, he's just stoned," the cowboy star smiled at them good-naturedly.
At that moment, the barman arrived. While Scarboro ordered a drink, Chris used a moment to take a deep gulp on her gin and tonic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man moving around the room. He stopped, whispering something to occasional couples and they got up - half the party seemed to be leaving.
"What do you think of the party?" the songwriter said.
"It seems ... just like a party."
"Good," Scarboro chuckled and gave her a little hug. "I'm glad you like it. We're going to have a good time!"
Chris watched in amazement as the songwriter downed his drink in one gulp, then ordered a second round. He caught her expression and laughed, "C'mon, drink up," he put the second gin and tonic in her hand. "They're putting on a little show in the basement."
"What kind of a show?" Chris drew heavily on her drink.
"A SEX show," he said, giving her a wide-eyed expression.
Christina stiffened and laughed. "No, I really couldn't."
"What's the difference?" he said. "Same thing you could see down in the Quarter. Only difference is you don't have to pay for it."
Scarboro broke out into a hearty laugh.
Chris didn't know what to say. She looked from Scarboro, then to Crawford on her other side. Both men were finishing off their drinks and she did likewise, out of sheer nervousness. While they were joking about something ... Chris was too distracted to really listen ... the young blonde had time to think. After all, what was so terrible about everyone going down there together? It would be an experience ... something she'd certainly never again have the occasion to see. And hadn't Ken already assured her on the beach she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to?
"All right," she smiled as, simultaneously, everyone placed their empty glasses on the bar top.
"Good girl," Crawford patted her on the shoulder, as though she'd just passed some test. Probably proving to him - the young blonde thought - that she wasn't the simple little prude he was beginning to take her for.
But maybe ... maybe she was a prude! Outwardly, Christina knew she looked cool and composed, but her insides were literally trembling. She felt a thrill as they made their way through the house towards a downstairs playroom where she knew lewd, illicit things would be going on. She didn't know how bad it would really be and tried not to think of it as they went down the dark stairs, Ken taking her hand and guiding her.
Her first reaction was one of shock - a stunned reaction so overwhelming it didn't even occur to her to turn away and leave. The room was dark except for a spotlight coming out of the ceiling where she could see a middle-aged man and young woman standing by a mattress. They were both completely naked and the man's long white penis was excitedly erect.
She had to take her eyes from them as they threaded their way through the people gathered to watch, toward a couch that was along one wall.
"I didn't realize they'd be doing something like this," Christina whispered to Scarboro as he led her along, but the songwriter didn't hear.
Suddenly, he stopped and Chris froze as she looked down at a nakedly entwined couple on top of some pillows at her feet. They were strung uninhibitedly across the narrow aisle, leaving Christina's group at a temporary loss as to how to get around them. The woman, a stunning redhead, was lying on her back with her knees salaciously uplifted and her long slender legs spread far apart.
The man was sitting on the redhead's ripely swelling breasts, his buttocks crushed their generously rounded softness tight back against her chest, while his knees were placed obscenely on either side of her head. Christina watched her mouth open in disbelief, as the woman reached up with her hands and greedily seized his fully erect cock. A hungry expression flickered through her eyes before she closed them. Then she began licking the man's lust-stiffened penis with her tongue, craning her neck to slowly take the long hard cock deeper into her ovalled mouth.
Behind her, she heard Crawford say, "God Almighty, Scarboro, look at that!"
They stood transfixed as they watched the man gradually begin to pump his hips back and forth. His long thick cock began to slide like a hard wet piston in and out of the woman's eagerly clasping lips. The aroused redhead reached up with her hands and grasped impatiently tight at his waist to pull his loins even closer against her cock-stuffed face. She wanted all she could get of his mouth-filling hardness and it looked like his cock was going all the way down to her throat as the man began fucking harder and harder into her voraciously sucking mouth.
Gently, Scarboro pulled Christina along. "Come on," he whispered. "We've got to ease around them. We're blocking the view for the others."
Finally, they reached the couch where an attractive older couple was sprawled. Instinctively, Chris sensed they were married - to each other. Their wide-eyed expression made it more than obvious they were no more used to watching sex shows than Chris was. The couch was a long one, big enough for them all to sit on. No sooner was Chris' group seated beside the couple than the uncontrollably excited wife whirled on her husband. Kissing him full on the mouth, she began grinding her curvaceous form licentiously into his body.
Chris sat between the actor and the songwriter, her breath coming light and fast. To see such overt lewdness and animal sexuality was shocking yet strangely exciting. My God, she thought of the couple, how can people do such things in public? The older married couple screwed their mouths like mad, the husband running his hands all over his wife's grinding body, pulling her dress far up along her enticingly separated thighs.
It was exciting being in the room, Chris admitted to herself, hypnotically watching the couple for a moment before she pulled her eyes away. A heated lewdness, an obscene atmosphere hung heavy as musk in the packed room. There was a tense quietness, but for the steady sound of the Dixieland band upstairs reverberating like a deep pulse through the floorboards. Christina couldn't help laughing at the song they were playing ...
"Went to the river, couldn't get across,
Jumped on an elephant, rode him for a hoss,
Cause he shakes that thing, cause he ... "
It seemed so out of context with the present situation! Or did it? Then Scarboro was pointing and whispered to her, "That girl out there on the mattress has been in some bike movies."
"Bike movies?" Chris frowned.
"Motorcycles," he laughed at her naivete.
"Oh," Christina was embarrassed and looked back at the middle-aged man and the young woman standing nakedly in the bright "stage" spotlight. The blonde girl was lovely and her blue eyes had a glazed look. She was perspiring and her long straight hair was disheveled, giving her an even more licentious appearance. There were red marks on her translucent white skin, particularly around the insides of her youthfully firm thighs near her blonde-fringed pussy. She stood with her arms trembling at her sides, her eyes now closed as the man roughly massaged her fully ripened young breasts. Then he spun her around and said to her in a commanding, almost brutal voice, "Down on your knees."
Without a word, the young girl dropped obediently to her knees on the mattress, facing away from the older man and the audience. Then he put both hands on her fearfully quivering shoulders, pushing her abruptly until she fell forward. Her pretty face, neck and shoulders were forced down into the mattress while her rounded young buttocks waved high up in the air, invitingly exposed for everyone to see. "Spread your legs open," the man ordered now.
Christina suddenly found herself leaning forward on the couch, her breath coming fast. She couldn't believe she was actually watching the girl's nakedly exposed buttocks upraised so everyone could see. Then a smoldering fear surged through her at the young woman's obscenely helpless position. As the blonde girl spread her legs, adjusting into a more comfortable kneeling position, her pink-slitted vagina revealed itself more openly, wetly glistening in the spotlight, Chris found it increasingly difficult to sit still as a tantalizing sexual hunger all her own began churning deep up inside her tightening belly. She could feel her love-starved young pussy beginning to involuntarily moisten as she watched the girl spread her shaking knees as wide as possible. God! She couldn't believe it! Chris had never imagined a woman on her knees in that kind of position before ... as though she were a subdued animal being readied for sacrifice.
"Grind it, move your ass around for me!" the man demanded and the blonde actress obeyed instantly, rotating and squirming her lewdly uplifted buttocks with all her might. Instead of being embarrassed and humiliated by her depraved position, Chris saw now that the performer was enjoying it. She had her face turned toward the couch where Christina sat and the young college coed noticed the blissfully dazed smile on the actress's face and the expectant way her eyes were now closed.
Christina felt the drink she'd consumed so quickly earlier going straight to her head. The room whirled in front of her as the spotlight over the naked couple on the center mattress spun kaleidoscopically. The room was full of couples writhing in the dark and everyone seemed to be breathing harder. Chris felt herself getting light-headed and blinked for a moment, turning to see the married couple on the other end of the couch. The man now had his wife's dress drawn up around her waist and Chris could see the narrow crotch band of her white nylon panties as the man caressed her eagerly parting thighs. She had his fly unzipped and her hand was inserted inside his pants and slowly moving around over his passionately erect cock. With unconcealed delight, both of them were gazing at the naked girl in the spotlight, as they fondled one another's heatedly aroused loins.
Christina looked back at the girl on the center mattress who was furiously undulating and grinding her buttocks up in the air, the gentle curves of her body glistened with sweat, her teeth were tightly clenched and her face contorted and transformed by passion-convulsed desire. It was raw naked lust - there was no other name for it!
"Uuuuuuuuhhhh!" With a loud grunt, the heavy-set man behind her dropped to his knees and seized her encouragingly waving buttocks with eager, outstretched hands. He steadied them, gazed at her stilled young ass-cheeks for a long moment, then brought his stiffened penis into position up against her pink, splayed-open young cunt. The girl seemed to be holding her breath as the man's lust-knotted cock-head pressed up between her blonde-fringed pussy lips. Then, suddenly, he found his mark! He plunged his long blood-thickened cock deep up into her hotly clutching vagina, bringing wild ecstatic mewls from the girl's lips.
"Aarghhhh," the girl cried out.
Chris could see the hard glistening penis pull nearly out of the blonde's wet curl-rimmed vaginal passage, then disappear again out of sight up into the moist tight flesh as the man shoved his aching cock deep into her small pussy hole again and again. "Ooooh, ohhhh!!" she gasped and moaned, her voice trailing off into unintelligibility.
For a moment, Christina was shocked, fearing the young starlet was hurt ... but then she realized the girl was loving it! Her naked spot-lighted body began to buck back up to meet his deep plunging cock. The man's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head as he fucked unmercifully into her sucking young cunt from behind, not holding back, slamming into her with all his massive weight and strength. Her entire girlish body vibrated like jello under his pummeling strokes, her breasts dangling and dancing obscenely and finally flattening out as they were forced down into the mattress.
That's what it must be like to be completely ravished, Christina thought. It was an act of total self-subjugation, where the woman became nothing more than a slave to the depraved and unrestrained desires of the man who plunged with greater force and strength into her defenseless cunt. There were no holds barred; the girl was doing exactly as he wished and had no purpose but to satisfy the man who thrust so brutally deep up inside her helpless vagina. and what's more, she seemed to be enjoying it!
"Oh God," Christina found herself beginning a little moaning in her throat along with the blonde. A wild thought bolted through her mind and she quickly dismissed it. For a split second, she wished she was that girl ... getting fucked so savagely - so thrillingly - out there on the mattress where all could see her shameless submission. She sat forward on the couch and crossed her legs, squeezing her warm, moistening thighs tightly together. The wet heat of her involuntarily responding vagina was becoming almost unbearable. God, this was too much!
"Uuuuuuhhhh," the man's loud grunt pierced through the room.
With a roar, the man stiffened and began cumming like a ravaging lion into the young blonde's hungrily milking cunt. His reddened face contorted with rage and desire. Christina could see his rock-hard buttocks flex and untighten as he arched his hips a final time - then his body torturously convulsed as he came again and again, shooting his hot male sperm deep up into her squirming still-unsatisfied vagina.
"No! No! Not yet! Don't cum yet!" the movie actress moaned in despair and was calling.
She thrust her quivering ass-cheeks up higher and higher, trying to keep the man's still-squirting penis inside her ravaged but still passionately begging vagina. But it was futile. He merely collapsed on her back, then rolled off to fall on the mattress, gasping out the euphoria of his own orgasm. The blonde lay prone on the mattress grinding her sperm-drenched little pussy lips hard down against the soft material, agonizingly frustrated moans coming from deep in her throat ...
The man staggered to his feet and moved out of the small spotlight and into the darkness, leaving the insanely aroused girl by herself. "Next in line!" someone called and there were a few laughs. Chris licked her lips; her mouth was dry and her young body weirdly on fire.
"That turn you on?" Scarboro's elbow nudged her jokingly in the side. He was teasing her, grinning at her.
Christina's face was flushed and she couldn't look directly at the blond-haired song writer. She nodded and tried to explain, surprised by the hoarse quality in her voice, "I've never seen anything like that before."
"Well, hang on, there'll be more," he laughed, lighting a cigarette. He looked at Chris with an amused glow in his eyes and seemed to be enjoying her reaction as much as the lewd sex show.
Next to her, the TV cowboy star, Crawford, put his hand on her lower thigh and Christina jumped. His hand was warm and moist. "Christ!" he breathed across her to Scarboro. "At another party, I've seen that girl have four men and two women and still want more. She's unbelievable. I guess she really likes to fuck."
Chris didn't try to take his hand away. It didn't seem to matter and it felt so good. She looked down the couch past Crawford at the older couple. The wife was now leaning back on the couch, her pantiless buttocks on the edge of the seat with her dress brazenly pulled up to her waist, revealing every intimate detail of her naked young body from the waist down. Her excited husband had pulled her panties down her revolving hips to the point .where her soft dark-haired pussy mound was completely exposed, the wetly shining layers of blushing pink flesh contrasting with the reddish hue of his lust-aroused cock-head.
Scarboro laughed uproariously. The husband grinned lewdly and then leaned to kiss his wife full on the mouth.
Without asking permission, Crawford casually reached over and hooked two fingers in the woman's sheer white panties, pulling them down over her knees. "Ooooooh yes!" the woman moaned in wild agreement and kicked the panties from her ankles onto the floor. She lay half-naked on the couch, her tapering legs spread wide and her cuntal lips parting to reveal more of the deeply throbbing vaginal slit between, sparsely surrounded by soft black pussy hair. Crawford turned to Chris and grinned. "It's all right, they're married," he said. Christina laughed in astonishment. Apparently, everything was all right.
People were turning to watch their couch now. Men were looking lustfully at Christina, but she felt safe between the huge actor and the handsome songwriter. Then Crawford said, "Looks like the show needs another man. I'm going to volunteer my services."
Christina's attention was attracted back to the couple. Now the husband was really mauling his wife, unbuttoning her dress and taking off her transparent white brassiere to expose her full, firmly set breasts that quivered lustily in his cupping hands. He pinched her desire-stiffened pink nipples between his thumb and forefingers, and at the other end of the couch, Chris stirred responsively, the warmth in her tingly-hot pussy becoming much stronger. She turned to Scarboro, "Shouldn't we ... ? I think I ought to go."
"Hang on just a while," he grinned. "We've got to watch Crawford, or he'll be offended."
"Well, all right," Chris nodded uneasily. She was totally at a loss for words to deal with this impossible situation. Her eyes widened as the massively built cowboy star appeared out there under the spotlight. He had stripped naked and his eagerly stiffening penis was much longer and thicker than the last man's. His eyes flicked over the kneeling girl with a lusty and expectant look. She sensed his lewd presence and got to her feet and looked with equal longing at his enormously lengthened penis swaying right in front of her. She was hot now, and in a terrible deep passion which called for immediate satisfaction. Chris forgot that she wanted to leave, almost forgot she was sitting on a couch with Ken Scarboro and a writhing couple who were now half-naked and who were heatedly fondling each other's genitals.
All she could look at was the big cowboy star and the small young blonde looking hungrily at each other under the spotlight. Chris's mouth was open and dry, her breath coming hoarse and deep. She squirmed and twisted uncomfortably in her seat, the soaked crotchband of her bikini nylon panties tightening against her rapidly wetting vagina and only serving to titillate and excite her all the more.
Crawford moved under the spotlight, put his hands on the girl's shoulders and said, "Go down on your knees and suck my cock!"
"God!" a little moan escaped Chris's lips as she saw the girl's reaction. Her face was twisted by a lust-crazed look, and as she sank slave-like to her knees, she slowly and seductively wet her lips with her tongue. Kneeling, she reached eagerly for the desire-stiffened rod of male flesh. She played lewdly with his hardened penis for a long maddening moment, drawing the loose foreskin back and forth over the bluntly swollen tip-end. Then, as Crawford stood above her, spreading his powerful legs and bracing himself, his fingers tangled in the girl's disheveled blonde hair, her mouth finally closed tightly over his mushroom-like cock-head. Chris had never seen anything so obscene in her life. The cowboy star's hips slowly began to move; his penis was enormously lengthened and looked like a huge wet bone as it began to slide in and out of the girl's receiving mouth, fusing flesh with flesh as it thrust deep into her desirously puffing cheeks.
Christina watched as if hypnotized, her eyes half-closed and glazed. The young blonde girl's mouth was open as wide as it could go, her eyes half-closed and glazed. The young blonde girl's mouth was open as wide as it could go, her lipstick-rimmed lips stretched tight around the vein-lined cock-shaft like two firm rubber bands.
She'll choke! Christina thought as Crawford thrust his ramrod penis deeper up into her wetly clasping mouth. He moved deep and slow, pulling the entire throbbing length out to the hugely swollen head, a malicious look on his face. Just as slowly and cruelly as before, he sunk his excitedly heated member toward her throat, farther and deeper with each plunge. The girl was no longer merely sucking him; he was fucking into her mouth, using it as he would a young hairless cunt.
The audience was silent at this obscene spectacle which was made all the more arousing by the rapt expression on the blonde girl's face.
"Deeper!" a woman's voice suddenly cried.
"Harder!" said another man.
"Suck him!" people were calling.
"Suck," Christina heard herself say in a little voice. Crawford responded, driving his saliva-wettened cock into the young blonde's unresisting mouth all the way down to her throat. The actress let her hands slip behind him and seized his rotating ass-cheeks to pull him closer and deeper into her warm moist mouth.
"That's it, yes, suck him, suck him, suck him!" Chris was amazed that she was chanting the words over and over, saying filthy things in a crazy sing-song manner.
Nothing mattered, no one was listening. All eyes were riveted on the girl who was drawing as hard as she could now on the big actor's penis fucking harder and faster into her thirstily ovalling mouth. The heat and smoke were becoming unbearable. Chris found herself sweating, leaning forward, wishing it were she herself avidly sucking on that man's long hard cock in front of everyone. She watched the lewdly entwined pair writhe hard together with Crawford suddenly springing, animal-like, almost crouching down over the nakedly kneeling girl. He forced her head back and up and drove his uncontrollably jerking penis down into her suctioning mouth with all his power, the muscles in his flexing legs and arms bulging and corded.
"Ooooooh," Chris gasped aloud when she saw his face, heard him grunt - all unmistakable signs that the actor was cumming. As he shot his hot liquid sperm far back into her receiving throat, the young blonde's cheeks ballooned outward until it seemed they would burst. The veins stood out on her neck and shiny white semen was overflowing the corners of her mouth, but she kept gluttonously swallowing his jetting cum, sucking crazily for more. Finally, Crawford's legs trembled in satiation and he sunk to the floor with the girl still possessively nibbling on his rapidly deflating cock-shaft. He lay on his back, sighing and gasping, with the blonde movie starlet licking the last warm white sperm droplets off the tip of his depleted penis.
Chris collapsed back on the couch. Up between her thighs, her entire young vaginal area felt like it was on fire. She closed her eyes ... she heard of sex shows like this and tried to imagine them. But never had she dreamed of anything so brazen, so obscene and so thrilling!
She sat forward again, unconsciously grinding her buttocks down into the couch. Next to her, she could see the older couple was still at it. The husband was sucking on the woman's stiffened nipple buds while his hand kneaded and fondled her excitedly lubricated vagina. The wife was gazing across her husband over at Ken Scarboro with lust in her eyes. She was obviously enjoying being an exhibitionist and Chris sensed it wouldn't be long before that woman, too, was out there under the spotlight.
Scarboro was obviously enjoying it all, too, though with a certain unastonished attitude that fascinated Chris. She touched his arm and he turned and smiled at her. "Do you ... do you come to this kind of thing often?"
He chuckled. "Sure. Why not?"
"Have you ... " Chris waved a hand, "you know."
He seemed to find that amusing. "Have I ever participated? Is that what you want to know?"
Chris nodded.
"Yeah, I have a couple of times. But I'm not much of a performer. I prefer parties where everyone participates."
"Oh," was all Chris could manage to say.
Scarboro laughed at her reaction and then she laughed too. Her laugh froze on her face as Scarboro put his hand on her knee and said, "Sometimes I like it ... just private."
"Oh," Chris gulped again.
He smiled. "C'mon, let's get out of this place. It's too crowded. And I got a nice big bed at my hotel room."
"Oh yes, I mean, okay," Christina wasn't going to back out now, though she had to force herself to say it.
Getting up, Scarboro seized her wrist and Chris was amazed at his strength. Holding her so tightly by the wrist she thought the circulation would stop, he led her from the room and up the stairs. Behind them, on the couch, the married couple were locked nakedly together, fucking with all their strength while the others gathered around to watch.
CHAPTER FOUR
Scarboro drove Christina in a big blue Plymouth from the Garden District mansion to the Royal Hotel in the French Quarter. It was Saturday night and the narrow streets of the quarter were filled with tourists wandering from one bar to another.
Across from the Royal Hotel a purplish neon sign urged passers-by to see THE MOST SPECTACULAR STRIP SHOW THIS SIDE OF VEGAS! As Chris moved along, her arm linked tightly into Scarboro's, she couldn't help feeling nervous ... but excited too. The carnival atmosphere of the Quarter seemed like a hangover from Mardi Gras; but without the gaily decorated floats and masked revelers, there was something tawdry in the scene.
Despite her embarrassment, Chris was secretly thrilled as they walked through the hotel lobby with every eye on them. Scarboro was forceful, dynamic, handsome and radiated success and confidence. As they rode up in an old elevator hand in hand, the songwriter swinging a bottle, she wondered what he would be like as a lover. What would he enjoy doing? Would she like him ... and especially, could she interest him? By the time they'd reached his floor and were walking down the corridor, all kinds of negative thoughts had crept into her mind.
Then Ken opened the door on an opulent bedroom done in Victorian style with a huge canopied bed. He gazed around the room with a pleased look. Christina heard the door click resolutely behind them, then Scarboro's arm was around her shoulder as he led her to the bed.
"Come over here, baby," he said with a slight drunken slur. "I got something I want to show you."
Feeling as if the ground were giving out under her feet, Christina let herself be led to the huge bed.
"Look up," the blond songwriter said.
"What?"
"Lookup."
Christina lifted her eyes to see a huge mirror placed above the bed in the canopy.
"That's so who's ever in bed can see whatever they're doing!" he laughed and rubbed his hands together.
"Oh ... that's terrific," Chris heard herself say in a small voice just as the handsome songwriter spun away from her.
Scarboro seemed to be in perpetual motion. Back in the car, he'd kept up a steady stream of boyish jokes and comments, while Christina fidgeted nervously in the corner. Now he was making them drinks with a great aplomb; he poured straight gin over ice, added some bitters. Jiggling the glasses loudly in each hand, he handed one to her. "Drink up ... you ever hear that joke 'It'll put hair on your chest'?"
"No, I mean, I think I've read it," Chris stumbled. "'But I never heard anyone say it."
He chuckled in a way that left Christina mystified as to whether he thought it was a funny joke or not.
Then he was moving past her to the closet. Giving her a mysterious look, he reached into the closet and pulled out a large suitcase. Chris remained where she stood by the floor-length balcony windows. The balcony itself had been closed off because of the air-conditioning, but down below she could see Royal Street, narrow and dark and empty now of tourists. Somehow, it seemed to fit with the shabby, frightened way she felt.
"Come on, come on," Scarboro was waving her to the bed where he had opened the suitcase.
Christina moved slowly across the room. The suitcase was an ordinary one - except it was filled with magazines and records.
"See this?" Scarboro took out a record album.
Chris looked confusedly at the cover. It was a popular album by a famous male singer; everyone knew about it.
"Now look at this," he flipped the album over to the back side where the usual blurb on the songs and performer was printed. "Shane Artists, Kelly Studios," he was mumbling as he moved his finger along the bottom of the credits. "Songs by Tom Hill and KEN SCARBORO!"
Christina laughed in astonishment at the songwriter's sheer ego. Then he was picking up a magazine. Apparently, he knew the page number by heart because he turned immediately to the page he wanted.
"There's more, too," he smiled at her and read, 'Annual Song writing Award to Tom Hill and Ken Scarboro'! Now how does that grab you?" he closed up the magazine and placed it with surprising carefulness back into the suitcase.
Chris found herself amused, in spite of her nervousness. "You seem to take great pleasure in your success," she teased.
"Sure, why not?" he said. "It's all I got in life, I might as well enjoy it! ... You know this girl?" he pulled out another album with a famous female singer on the cover.
Christina recognized the dark-haired woman as Micki Grant. The full-color picture played up her scarlet dress and voluptuous figure to the point that she seemed to leap right off of the cover. She was tall and sensuous, holding a microphone like it was a live cock in her hand, letting the tip of her tongue touch it.
"Sure," Christina frowned. "It's Micki Grant."
"She used to be my girl friend," he looked at her with a serious expression.
Chris glanced up suspiciously.
"No, really. We lived together for two years. Then she left me for this rich producer. Now she ... well, that circle she moves in now, those people are really successful, not that I care about it. Goddamn bitch," he stabbed the album with his finger and threw it back into the suitcase.
While Scarboro closed up the suitcase and put it back in the closet, Chris wandered anxiously around the room. It wasn't that large, in fact it was rather small, but the massive Victorian furniture was impressive and Chris knew he must have been paying quite a bit to stay there. Circling around the foot of the bed, she ended up back at the window and in the same depression she had experienced earlier when the doorman and the bellboy had so lewdly, knowingly, eyed her. They must have thought I was a prostitute. I feel like one, she was thinking, feeling her skin turn scarlet with the shame, when Scarboro's voice cut into her thoughts ...
"No, I'm not that successful," he said coming around the bed and sitting down on the edge of it. "I make a lot of money, sure. But how successful can a songwriter be? There are limits to the profession. Now Micki's crowd, they got money you wouldn't believe. I visited her today ... she's in a big suite at the Hilton ... I fucked her."
I fucked her, Chris blinked at the blunt words and stared harder out the window.
Scarboro was handsome, a celebrity, on top of it, but none of that seemed to matter now. Had she really come to a hotel room with this man she hardly knew ... and would certainly never see again? Most importantly, could she possibly get out of it?
After being up here, Chris didn't have enough nerve to walk back down through the lobby at this time of night. Not after the obscene way everyone in the lobby had eyed her. No, she couldn't go back downstairs. On the other hand, it didn't seem likely that Ken would let her just sit here till morning.
Suddenly, she heard the bed squeak and sensed him moving up from behind. His hands settled on her shoulders and she tensed. Now it's beginning, her mind raced and there's not a damn thing I can do about it! She trembled as she felt the older, blond-haired man's head lower, his rough cheek brush against her naked arm. His lips began to kiss her arm, nibbling at the sensitive skin until she could feel goose bumps rising responsively from her neck to her wrist.
"Who does the lyrics and who does the song?" she asked, trying to distract him, "I mean, do you and Tom each have something special you do or do you work at everything together? I mean ... " she heard her voice trail off into simple-minded confusion.
Behind her, Scarboro lifted his head, drew back. "Well ... Tom's a real genius. Most of the songs and the lyrics just come to him. But I'm the brains! I do the arranging and I'm the business manager."
"Oh, that's interesting," she gulped as his hands began lifting her long blonde hair from the back of her neck.
"Wh-where are you from?" she stammered.
"From?" Scarboro shifted his weight and straightened up. "Well, that's a hard question. My dad owns a bar in St. Louis and my mother's a waitress in New York, so I sort of floated back and forth between them." He laughed.
"My parents are very strange," Chris rambled desperately on, managing to cut the older man off just as his fingers settled on her tiny waist and began moving slowly up her sides to her breasts. "They're very much in love. That's unusual for parents, don't you think? They sent me and my sister to boarding school. Every time we come home for vacation, they take off to someplace ... like the ... Bahamas."
Chris's voice trailed off, her mind went blank and she couldn't think of anything else to say as the songwriter lifted his hands to her shoulders and seemed to be struggling to turn her around. Her fingers caught at the small table in front of the window, but he held her by the shoulders, twisting himself toward her until she was directly facing him, her face buried in his chest. As he wrapped his arms around her back, she could feel ripples through his hard chest muscles.
Looking downward, the young blonde's heart leapt to her throat. His cock was hard, she could see by the way the tight restricting material of his slacks bulged out toward her! It pressed hot and throbbing against her thigh and she pulled backward in an instinctive motion.
"Lift your head. I haven't even kissed you yet."
Before she could respond, he had taken her chin in his hand and was lowering his head toward her so that their lips met and his tongue wormed wetly inside her open mouth. It was beginning to feel like thousands of tiny sparklers igniting in her loins, when suddenly she pressed her hands against his powerful chest and wrenched away from him.
She tried to inch out from between him and the table, but his huge form looming over her made it impossible ... she was cut off from any exit save the window; not even able to reach the door leading to the lobby.
"What in the hell's the matter with you?"
"Nothing."
"Don't you want me to make love to you?" he asked bewilderedly.
"No."
"I can't figure it out," he said.
"It's nothing ... "
"I thought you wanted me to fuck you!" he interrupted, his voice choked with frustration.
Suddenly he spun away from her. Trembling with relief, she watched as he padded across the carpet and moved to the bureau. I thought you wanted me to fuck you, reverberated through the blonde coed's mind ... then her thoughts were broken off when she saw Scarboro waving her to him. "Look at this," he lifted up a bottle of shaving lotion. "Twenty dollars a bottle. It comes from Paris."
Despite herself, Chris grinned as he opened the bottle and began splashing shaving lotion on his neck. Her smile faded as his hands settled on her shoulders. "Chris ... do you want me to go down on you?"
"No!" she started. She remembered the scene in the mansion's basement and recalled the lewd things ... those horrible perverted things men and women had been doing to each other.
"Well, do you want to go down on me?"
Chris's eyes began to fill with tears. "No."
"Well, what the fuck do you want?" he snapped out at her. She could tell his patience was rapidly ebbing ... she really couldn't blame him if he was angry.
"Do you think I could sit here till morning?"
Scarboro looked baffled for a moment. "You want money? I'll pay you," he said.
"Oh God ... this is unbelievable?" the frightened young blonde exclaimed. "This is like a nightmare." She bent her head.
"Look Christina. When a man brings a girl up to his hotel room ... it's generally agreed that they're going to ... well, fuck," he was almost bellowing at her.
"Please don't make so much noise," she lifted her head and pleaded.
He picked up the glass he'd set down on the bureau and drank rapidly from it, standing with his back turned to her for a moment. Thoughts as elusive as the occasional sounds of traffic floating up from the street below spun through her mind. What if someone should discover she was here? Probably it was against the law. The bellboys might find it amusing, but, if the management found out ... What if she was discovered and arrested as a prostitute?
Scarboro turned to her. A boyish grin swept across his face. "Listen, you've got to relax. Relax. Let it happen. Then it'll be better for the both of us. Now, go on and lie down on that bed."
Feeling like an automaton, Chris looked away from the songwriter to the huge bed. It was canopied, with ornately carved posts and stood grandly on the expensive oriental carpet. There was nothing else to do; she had gotten herself into this mess and now she had to endure it.
When morning came, she would walk out, just as though she had a room here and never let herself think of the humiliating incident again.
Still not looking at Scarboro, she lay down on the bed, her eyes half-closed.
"Now, already you feel better," she heard him say.
"I can't say that I do." She felt like she had just been issued her death warrant as the stockily built man began to undress.
He threw his shirt on the chair and pulled off his slacks and undershorts in one movement. Scarboro's long hard cock speared out angrily at her and his large, sperm-bloated balls hung low as he stood in front of her, a frightening specimen of masculine sexuality with his rippling stomach muscles layered like Roman armor. His hair-covered chest tapered in a "V" to his lean hips and the veins stood out on his biceps and oak-like arms. His muscles glistened with sweat. Chris's eyes flickered more widely open, a shudder of admiration combined with fear running through her.
"Aren't you going to take your clothes off?" he said.
"I-I ... Oh God ... "
"Okay, you want me to do all the work," he said in the manner of a parent dealing with a tyrannical child.
The bed sagged as he fell heavily down on the other half. Suddenly, she felt his hand at her sweater, drawing it up over her head, then unclasping her white lacy brassiere. As she leaned forward to let him, she felt a resurgence of that same hot tingling feeling she'd experienced earlier during the sex show.
Ken's eyes widened as the young blonde's voluptuously rounded breasts leaped and jellied in front of his face. He half-gasped, half-growled as he stared hungrily at the firm-fleshed mounds. Consistent with her slightly blushing complexion, her small round nipples were the palest of pink, delicate and finely formed.
"Damn ... you've got a great body ... great tits," he continued, staring at the twin white peaks of young flesh.
She started to say something, but was cut off as he began to knead and suck the incredible ripeness of her breasts. Christina turned toward him, her half-naked body quivering beside him on the mattress as he continued to suck her responsively throbbing breasts, sliding the stiffening nipples up and down in a slow tantalizing rhythm.
"I don't think I want to ... "
"Here we go," he cut her off, suddenly rising to his knees and hovering over her on all fours.
"Please," she whimpered, but Scarboro reached behind him to undo her sandaled heels, then - with equal abruptness - his fingers were sliding up her short blue miniskirt, fastening on the tight elastic waistband of her bikini panties. Before she could think of what to do, he was slowly peeling the white nylon panties down her heaving belly and off her legs. He threw them somewhere on the carpet and then drew down her skirt over her fearfully trembling thighs, letting it, too, flutter to the floor.
A shiver of uncontrolled narcissistic delight banked through the blonde coed's loins as she felt him looking down at her naked young form. She knew he would find her body sexually enticing, but also was conscious of the fact that Ken had used her vanity earlier that afternoon on the beach to flatter her into this demeaning situation. Oh God, she'd been so foolish!
"Lift up your legs."
"You want me to lift up my legs?" she repeated absurdly.
He smiled and she noticed his lips ... They were twisted lewdly. "Yes, open your legs ... wide. I want to see your lovely pussy."
"Oh God!"
"You're beautiful. Just looking at you on the beach this afternoon made my goddamn cock as hard as a rock!"
"Don't say things like that," she shuddered. "No one's ever talked like that to me."
"Well, now you heard it," he said with a gloating chuckle.
Then he put one hand gently on her shoulder, pushing her back down onto the mattress and used the other to spread her legs open.
"Damn, you sure got a pretty pussy," he whispered overhead.
As though that would help her comprehend the situation, the young would-be actress squinted down at her naked white abdomen and the blonde cuntal "vee" nestled lewdly below the narrowness of her waist and her flaring hips.
"Sweet, sweet pussy," Scarboro sighed and without warning, knelt farther down between her parting ankles. Something inside the young girl made her tremble with excitement. Maybe it was because of the liquor she'd drunk so fast or the sex show at the mansion, but, suddenly, she was incapable of protesting further.
The songwriter's lascivious eyes feasted on the soft golden triangle of pubic hair up between her legs. Without touching her, he let his mind imagine how delectable her tight little pussy lips would feel and then, almost worshipfully, he put his hands on her knees and forced them wider apart. "Yes ... Chris, just relax, let yourself enjoy it," he stroked and kissed her inner thigh, feeling the young blonde shudder and then sigh deeply.
"What are you doing? What's going on?" her voice seemed to open up a hole in the dimly lit room.
There was no answer.
Christina felt his hot moist lips on her other thigh. The quivering tongue played in light staccato against her naked skin as his hands worked the resilient thigh-flesh of her legs, raising her knees a bit by placing one of her feet on top of his thigh over the lewdly thickened bulge of his penis.
"No ... STOP!" the nakedly shivering blonde jerked upward. Under her toes, she could feel his lustfully throbbing cock straining and pulsating against her foot. She tried to kick her foot away, but he grasped her ankle and pulled it back until it was firmly resting on his heated shaft. "Damn you! Leave it there," he said.
The defenseless coed closed her eyes in fear, only to flick them open again when his finger grazed tentatively at her little pussy lips. God! Something seemed to flame up inside her, a hot flickering in her trembling young cunt, even stronger than what she'd experienced at the sex show.
"No ... really! Can't we do something else?" she whimpered, realizing that everything she said came out completely wrong.
The songwriter slithered forward, down toward her parting, glisteningly moist vaginal lips. With his thumbs he spread them even farther apart to reveal the erotically throbbing pussy flesh that just beckoned him to lick there. "Jeezus," he gasped.
Ken's sudden indrawn breath increased the lewd sensual desires churning up through the quivering blonde's belly. She could feel Scarboro's hands massaging her naked thighs as he spread her legs wider to a point where she was without power to resist.
"C'mon. I want to eat some of that sweet-smelling pussy ... just for a second, then I'll fuck you!" he slithered forward once again, his head abruptly bowed.
An erotic jolt fizzled down her trembling inner thighs as his thumbs pressed into her swollen pussy-mound and gently parted the moist, hair-lined lips of her cunt. As he tried now to tongue-fuck her splayed open vaginal slit, she frantically twisted and squirmed her lower body, attempting to show him she wanted none of his perverted kisses down there.
"Please ... no!" Chris stiffened the cord-like muscles of her legs and tried to pull her thighs together, but his strong grip on their trembling softness made it impossible. Some time earlier, Ken had disarmed her with his gentleness, but now she was frightened all over again.
"Just let your legs relax. Ease into it nice and slow," he said, then seemed to forget how terrorized the young blonde really was. In his fevered excitement, he brutally wrenched her long tapering legs farther apart without difficulty and scuttled up closer between them. "Damn, what a pretty little cunt!"
The bachelor was kneeling now between her widely outspread thighs, his fingers pressing into the trembling flesh of her outer cunt. She heard of a man licking a girl's vagina with his tongue and one of her two boyfriends had tried to get her to let him do it. But now, the degradation she'd thought she'd feel began to vanish from her mind. She was conscious only of the vulnerable sensation of his superior strength holding her thighs so wide that her sparse, hair-covered vaginal lips flowered open to reveal completely the deeply throbbing pink flesh between.
He dropped his head downward and the thrilling warmness of his lips again pressed soft and gentle into her moist, hotly swelling cuntal flesh. "Ooooh! Nooooo! Please ... no!" She felt his tongue curling deep into the wetly sensitive slit, stopping to swirl several times around the slippery smoothness of her inner vaginal lips. Then, her protesting moan became a continuous wail of pleasure as his tongue drew up to the pulsating bud of her clitoris and lashed lightly over it again.
Suddenly, the only things that mattered were the intense sexual fires which had been ignited in her warmly palpitating breasts and vagina and that were now building past the point of her control.
Chris's shamelessly aroused young body shuddered in naked delight as Ken took her erotically stiffening clitoris into his teeth. He held it there with painstaking gentleness while his tongue licked in a searing lust-circle over the hotly quivering little head.
Oh God, it's good! Just like he said it would be ... it's wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!
The songwriter's hands held her now unresisting thighs far apart; his face began to turn in slow sensual circles as his tongue stroked fast and hard all over the would-be actress's wetly heated cuntal furrow. Her writhing young body spasmed upward and convulsed in response as Scarboro speared deeper into her wantonly clasping vagina, using his tongue like a penis to fuck orally into her moist warm pussy-flesh.
"Mmmmmm," she mewled, looking down at him. "Yessss ... Oohhhh ... yes!"
Chris began lasciviously grinding her desire-tautened vagina up to Ken's face, cooperating with him as much as she could. One of her hands moved down to tangle in his hair, stroking and caressing the blond head bobbing up and down between her obscenely straining legs. Suddenly, Ken's hands lifted and began roaming at will over her passionately quivering body, returning always to her full tingling breasts where they fondled and massaged and caressed their warm resiliency. She could feel her rigidly excited nipples digging into his grasping palms and a strange ecstasy mounted inside of her, a searingly wanton emotion she had never felt before ... and her eyes widened in disbelief.
This must be an orgasm, the thing she had read and dreamed so much about! In her past two experiences with sex, the boys had always climaxed inside her too soon, cumming with uncontrolled grunts and groans, now she was thrillingly close to orgasm and her bones seemed to turn to putty, her flesh into some hot living liquid.
Christina was almost there! One more time! One more thrust with that wet magical tongue snaking around between her helplessly widespread legs ... !
But then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped!
"Now ... I want you to suck my cock," Scarboro lifted his head from between his splayed-out thighs. "Now it's my turn," he grinned.
"Yes, yes, I want to," she agreed in her excitement.
There was suddenly another movement around Christina's head and she could feel the mattress dipping in front of her face as Scarboro's heavy weight descended upon it. The enthralled young blonde momentarily closed her eyes, then she felt a spongy wet sensation pressing warmly against her mouth. He lifted her head with one hand as he guided the passion-swollen head of his long hard penis toward her wetly parting lips.
At the peak of uncontrolled excitement, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take the blond-haired man's massively distended penis into her mouth. Chris kept her eyes open in delight now as his satiny cock-head brushed against her willingly separated lips. She wanted to do it! She wanted to arouse in the older man the same wild, churning sensations that his continued licking at her eagerly squirming pussy had brought to her.
The young blonde opened her mouth and her lips rounded softly over Scarboro's lust-knotted cock. She was pleasantly surprised by its warm rubbery texture and slight pungent flavor and by the way it throbbed in her mouth like a second heart. Slowly, experimentally at first, she ran her tongue over the pulsating head. Then, gaining confidence, she began to swirl her tongue in tiny licking circles along the sensitive under-ridge beneath the head, feeling Ken's body stiffen and tense as she began sucking harder on his lust-filled rod of male flesh. When Chris had first heard of women performing oral sex on men, she'd thought anyone who might do it was immoral and perverted. Yet here she was, drawing her lips around Scarboro's long thick hardness while he was rocking his hips back and forth into her face and God! ... She was loving it!
Christina looked up to see Ken's eyes glued on her lushly ovalled lips as he continued to revolve his hips slowly back and forth in front of her face, flexing the muscles of his buttocks to drive his pulsing hot cock deeper into her soft warm mouth. She accepted it, convulsing and hollowing the moistly clasping insides of her mouth around the lengthy shaft until all of it was absorbed and the spongy, desire-enlarged head brushed the back of her throat. Only a tiny stretch of the wide fleshy base showed between her nose and his light reddish blond pubic hair as she tightened her lips like an elastic band around its exciting thickness.
As far as Chris was concerned, this was heaven. She would have been satisfied if it had gone on forever, but the hypnotic rhythm of their two bodies moving so lewdly together was broken when Scarboro suddenly stopped. She stiffened and whimpered as he pulled his cock wetly from her mouth, "Oh please ... don't stop! That was so ... so exciting!" she gasped through her passion-dimmed haze.
A big grin stretched across Scarboro's face. "Stop? Who's stopping? We're just getting started, honey."
Looking down and straining to see, she peered at Ken now rising up on his knees between her widespread legs. His hand gripped his visibly pulsating cock that had been sucked and licked to huge proportions while he had thrust it repeatedly between her sensually full pink lips.
"I'm going to fuck you now, baby," he explained the obvious.
Christina stared down with masochistic fascination as his hand continued to grip his thickly distended shaft.
Her eyes widened in amazement as he anxiously pulled back the loose fold of foreskin to reveal the plum-colored blood-engorged head. "God Ken ... it's so big."
The blond man looked at her, smiling, as he saw her eyes taking in the entire blood-engorged length of his cock. "You thought that licking your pussy felt good ... wait till you feel this baby deep inside that beautiful little cunt of yours."
"You promise ... not to hurt me?" Chris wavered pleadingly, then sank back onto the pillow trembling uncontrollably. His penis was too big! He was much bigger than the two younger boys she had gone to bed with! Surely it was going to hurt too much! She couldn't possibly take it all inside the tightness of her small, almost virginal pussy. But then the devils of desire in her belly began to dance wildly again at the mere thought of his huge thickness plowing deep up inside her belly. She didn't care if it hurt! More than anything else in the world, she needed a big beautiful cock fucking up between her legs, fucking her till she came!
"Spread your legs!" Scarboro commanded thickly and she immediately obeyed.
Every last bit of will power seemed to have been submerged in her overpowering need for orgasm. She felt him draw her swaying thighs apart and shivered with unexpected delight as his tongue lowered to give one last lick at the moist pink crevice between them.
Then he was crawling up between her long widespread legs and pushing the young blonde's thighs apart till her knees hit the mattress. He grasped his thick aching penis in his hand and guided it without a moment's delay to the warm velvety mouth of her wetly clasping cunt. Christina could feel the turgid rubbery head throbbing against her moist little pussy lips, exerting just enough pressure so she knew in a moment he would be filling her to completion. She looked above to the mirror placed so lewdly over the bed and saw her long platinum hair strung crazily over the pillow, giving her a wild abandoned look. She also saw the songwriter's muscularly naked back and buttocks squirming over her body, sweat rivuleting off his back as he uplifted and flexed his ass-cheeks - and then ... oh God, she thought ... It looks so ... !
"Uggggh," her thoughts were cut off, as, with a loud grunt, he thrust his powerful hips forward, his heavily plunging penis slithering deep up into her quivering vagina.
"Oh oh God!" her eyes widened as Ken pushed up forcefully, stretching her moist cuntal walls till she thought her young belly would be sundered in two.
She could feel his rigidly thrusting cock burrowing up through her dilating vaginal passage, bringing a warm seething magic to her cock-hungry cunt. Wave after wave of forbidden pleasure gusted through her ... she could feel the clasping walls of her pussy being gloriously strained by what must be the most gigantic penis in the entire world! "I can't believe it - you're so big!" she gasped, feeling her inner vaginal muscles relaxing, then pulling in to embrace its cunt-filling length. Her tight little belly had never felt so complete in her life!
"Yessss," she intoned, "Yessss ... put it up my ... OH KEN screw me with your beautiful prick ... DO IT ... Fuck me!"
"Say it again," he paused, letting his cock-shaft rest smolderingly inside her cunt for a moment.
"OH ... I'm going out of my miiiind," she moaned as Ken plowed his rod of pulsating flesh deep up her searing vagina, pressing great waves of clinging pussy flesh in ripples of erotic pleasure before it.
Chris's every forbidden wish seemed to be coming true! Cock! Prick! Yes ... that's what she'd always wanted and needed. Her belly quaked and throbbed convulsively as the smooth-pistoning penis thrust headlong up her almost virginal young pussy again and again. Her mind whirled in useless circles, making fruitless efforts to reason out what the songwriter was doing to her ... but Chris could focus her attention on nothing save the long virile penis filling her tingling vagina so full, crushing pleasurably her inner organs as it dug even deeper up between her scissored open legs. Scarboro was fucking her as she had never been fucked before!
"Good God! Jesus!" the blonde groans rose and then fell off into incoherence. It felt like Ken's cock would burst into her throat if he didn't stop!
"Damn! Sweet, sweet pussy," Scarboro's cloudy voice answered, sounding as though it had come from a great distance.
His cock-shaft felt massive enough to be an ancient battering ram thrust into the portals of a castle of flesh ...
He withdrew slowly, only to sink up into her with a fitful sigh. Back and forth he sawed, his buttocks relaxing as he pulled out, then flexing inward once more as he screwed up his hips and fucked forcefully into her tight little cunt. As he withdrew, her pussy lips pulled out lewdly around his lust-thickened shaft, folding over and slipping in again as he drove it home each time.
Chris threw her legs wider and gasped. She criss-crossed her arms over his powerful straining back and chanted - "Ohhhhh ... fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Above the shamelessly pinioned young blonde on the bed, her naked young form in the mirror was writhing and twisting as though in some wild obscene dance of death. She dug her nails sharply into his back, seeing them draw thin bloodless lines along the tensing sides of his spine. Scarboro responded like a wild stallion. He began to plunge into her passionately clasping young pussy hard and heavy, indifferent to whether he was hurting. He banged her lush young body across the bed as Chris lewdly lifted and wrapped her legs around his naked waist and locked her ankles together. She drew up her warm-fleshed buttocks to get more of that rigidly plunging cock deep into her throbbing belly, feeling the head of it thud again and again against her cushiony cervix. "I'm ... cummmming! Oh God, I'm cummmmiiinnng!" she moaned, tightening her grip on his back, "Fuck me some more ... harder!"
Scarboro redoubled his efforts and they inched slowly across the mattress, her hips lifted clear only to be slammed down again and again until she could no longer even see her shamelessly twisting body in the mirror. "Fuck, fuck me some more!" she cried. Her head was hanging over the edge of the bed and she saw the room upside down as Scarboro fucked into her with an uncontrolled fury. Now her shoulders were extending outward from the mattress and in two more brutal thrusts, her nakedly rotating buttocks would be free and she would crash to the floor.
Her head was touching the floor, banging against it, when it happened. It was irreversible. Nothing could stop it. She began to moan and gag on her own saliva, her eyes rolled back in her head and her body convulsed, her hips thrusting straight up as she came. "AAAAAGHhhhh! God! Fuck it harder! Haaarrrddder!" And her cum exploded inside her head and her vision faded. She saw red and came again and again with an intensity so powerful she thought her heart had stopped beating.
Above her, Scarboro, half off the bed, held onto her hips with powerful hands and fucked on furiously. One, two, three last thrusts and he moaned and roared ... then Chris felt his deeply embedded cock swelling and shuddering and his white-hot cum began spurting lava-like deep into her ravaged little cunt and belly. Then, with a shuddering moan, he fell on top of her and they both tumbled, in a sweating, panting mass, to the floor where they slumped and held tightly to one another.
After a long moment, Scarboro rolled off her lifeless form and lay on his back on the carpet, sweat streaming down his face as he stared at the ceiling. "Jesus! Where did you say you're from?"
"Shreveport, Wisconsin." Chris was confused.
"Holy Christ!" he glanced over at her. "That was something else."
"Really?" Chris smiled. It was true, they had fucked and she had loved it, felt things she'd never known about before.
"What a day," he groaned to himself. Scarboro wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at his hand. "You been to bed with a lot of men?"
"Two," Chris sighed. "It really wasn't much. I mean, it was just once with each one. We never saw each other again."
Scarboro pulled himself up from the carpet with a groan and looked down at her. "I don't know if I can keep up with you."
Ken disappeared to the bathroom and Christina was left, once again, wondering what he meant. Communication between the two of them was difficult at best. He talked in English, but half the things he said left her wondering, puzzling over them as if he had spoken in another language.
The air-conditioner blew the gauze curtains out over the oriental carpet, casting a blurred shadow over her white abdomen. Finally, she pulled herself up and sat down on the edge of the bed, still catching her breath. She sighed in utter satisfaction, too exhausted to think and felt numbly at the wetness all around her. The rug beneath her and the sheets on the bed were soaked with mingled sweat and cum.
"I don't know how you're going to sleep on this bed," she smiled as Ken came naked out of the bathroom. "The sheets are all wet."
He laughed, felt the soaked linen sheet and drew his hand away. His eyes crinkled up when he said, "Let's pull off this bottom one. Then we can sleep on the top one."
"We?"
"Sure ... you are sleeping on the bed, aren't you?" he laughed.
"I don't know."
"Yes you are. Then you're coming with me to Florida."
"Oh," Chris said, without question. Somehow, the way he had said it made it all so ... definite. Well, it is a vacation, she thought and she had dreamed of getting away from New Orleans for a few days.
Ken Scarboro turned off the air-conditioning and the lights, then pulled the table out from the balcony, letting in the hot summer air. Then, just as Chris was returning from the bathroom, he pulled her over to a chair and they made love again, with her riding up and down on his thickly upstanding penis ... her hips rising and falling above his own, the early morning wind from the river tangling in her long blonde hair.
Both of them came fast, almost immediately. She held him under his arms, feeling his chest spasm and his lean muscular thighs lift up beneath her. His face contorted, grew red, as he came with a powerful groan into her furiously milking pussy.
"Oh God ... so good ... so good!" she cried, orgasming right after him.
In bed, Scarboro wrapped his arm under her shoulder and fell asleep almost right away while Chris lay in the darkness, thinking of all that had happened and the strange fact that she was suddenly going to Florida. The neon lights from the Royal Hotel cast a soft florid glow over the room. They lay nakedly on the bed with no covers. Much later, Scarboro groaned and rolled over on his side and Chris, who had been studying him sleeping for over an hour now, watched him from this new angle. His shoulders were broad and his thighs thick and covered with blond hair. Only his back was ... ordinary. Funny ... he's vain ... but he doesn't even know it, were her last thoughts before she fell asleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
When Chris awoke the next morning, she was alone and she lay blinking, staring at her naked image reflected back in the mirror set overhead in the huge canopied bed. Her long blonde hair streamed over the pillow, giving her a wanton appearance and she looked sexily older, she thought, somehow. Then her gaze shifted to the balcony; the French doors were still open, but someone had pulled closed the sheer nylon curtains and they fluttered softly in a slight breeze. Outside she could hear voices and what sounded like a lot of traffic. God, she thought, it must be around noon, then ... I wonder where Ken has gone to ?
She rolled over on her side, away from the window and pulled up the sheet. She had just closed her eyes and was about to drift back into sleep when Scarboro burst noisily through the door. He smiled at her and sat down on the side of the bed.
"What time is it?" the young blonde said.
"Twelve noon," he lit a cigarette.
"How long have you been up?" she asked curiously.
"Since about eight," he said. "I don't need more than four hours sleep. I got a twenty hour day."
"God," Chris murmured to no one in particular, just in reaction to the thought.
"C'mon," he said. "You got to get up now. Tom's gone to rent us an automobile."
The restaurant at the Royal Hotel was set up in the inner courtyard. Fifteen minutes later, Chris was sitting at a small outdoor table across from Scarboro, sipping thick chicory coffee while the songwriter drummed his fingertips nervously on the white table cloth.
"Where did Tom stay?" she blinked at him in the bright sun.
"Why, right here," he grinned. "He had the room next to mine. We always stay together."
"Uhhhh ... oh!" Chris smiled back, thinking she had a lot to learn about how he and his friend did things. "Does he mind me going along?"
"Naw ... he's used to it. We're real different. I'm the kind of guy who's got to have a woman, you know?" he laughed. "But Tom ... well, he's not queer or anything ... but he's got his head up in the clouds ... Music'll do that to some guys," he said and put on some sunglasses. They were blue and a perfect match to his blue polo shirt. "What do you think of these? Too loud?"
"I don't know," Chris said.
"That's what I was afraid of," he smiled wryly and put them back in his pocket.
He went on. "My problem isn't that I haven't got any taste. I got too much taste! You let me know if I get to be too much for you ... what's the matter?"
"I think you're crazy," the young blonde laughed. "No, I don't mean that ... but I've never met anyone like you."
"Not many people have," he said good-naturedly. "You're one of the precious few ... it's a very select group."
Chris watched sparrows fluttering back and forth over the expanse of open blue sky above the courtyard. The outdoor restaurant was rimmed by three tiers of balconies on each side and a pretty, Spanish-looking maid appeared and re-appeared, changing sheets on the third level. Then they were moving into the lobby to see if Tom had arrived yet.
When Tom came in, Chris was left alone. She wandered among the wicker chairs in the sun porch while the two men and the bellboys loaded up the rented Volkswagon. Tom didn't appear to resent her presence - in fact, he gave her a friendly wave. Chris moved out onto the sidewalk - suddenly she'd remembered she didn't have any belongings, but she couldn't mention it until the bellboys had left and the car was pulling down Royal Street.
Chris got on with Tom right away. For one thing, he didn't seem to mind going back for her things. He was quiet and more easy going than Ken. She could tell he came from a background similar to hers and conversation was easy with him, because they had so much in common. For another thing, he got Ken to slow down his driving. The two men acted like brothers; they bickered and bantered in a way that only people who were close could. And Ken took it - Chris could hardly believe it, she would never have imagined someone talking that way to Ken!
By the time they were crossing the line into Alabama, Ken was back up to about eighty-five. He was an expert, but very fast driver. Chris was in the back seat, more or less packed between a turntable and two speakers, with her long blonde hair whipping in the strong wind. Both the men had their windows rolled all the way down. When Chris leaned forward to ask Tom if he'd roll up the window, she could see his foot pumping on an imaginary brake.
"Jesus CHRIIIIIIIIST! I wish you'd slow down," he said as the songwriter brought it back up to eighty.
"Calm down."
"Yeah, that's easy enough for you to say. I'm the one that's in the suicide seat."
"At this speed, it doesn't make much difference," Ken pointed out. "Actually you don't even need seat belts."
Scarboro slowed down to seventy and sank into a glum mood. "You guys just make me so nervous," he rolled his window half way up.
"We make you nervous."
"Yeah," Ken frowned at a semi ahead of them but tagged behind. "I never heard two people talk so much. Chattering and giggling. I feel like I'm driving a school bus ... "
It was pitch black and they were well into Alabama before they made the first stop. Ken pulled up into a modern rest area. They had a full dinner in a large cafeteria and once again the young coed was amazed at the easy relationship between the two men; now they were discussing the music business in a serious way, as though the irritable outbursts in the car had never happened. Chris got up and went to the ladies room; she put a quarter in the perfume machine and got a spray of expensive perfume just for fun. Now it was Tom's turn to drive. Outside Tom was busy adjusting the front seat for his long legs and afterwards, when she'd climbed in the back, he gave her a sleeping pill.
Chris woke at four and it was she who drove over the Alabama-Florida line - the beach house was located just inside Florida. Actually, it seemed more like a small farm house than a beach house and sat in the center of a huge area of tree-less green turf, connected to the highway by a narrow dirt road. There were four bedrooms - one of the first things she looked for - with a big screened porch across the rear and a panoramic view of the coastline for miles in all directions.
On the first day, Chris drove around with Ken on errands while Tom slept around the clock. Ken was waiting for a check from their lawyer. Finally, on the fifth day, it arrived, but Ken was dissatisfied with the amount.
They were walking along the dirt road, coming back from the mail box set up on the highway. Chris was barefoot and her jeans were wet from where she and Tom had spent the morning exploring down along the beach where the rocks made tidal pools. Ken wouldn't go that close to the water - actually being in the water gave him the creeps.
"Let me see it," Chris squinted up her eyes in the bright noon sun. "I've never seen a check for that much money."
Scarboro handed over the check to her and laughed.
"Jesus Christ," Chris was picking up the habit of swearing from being around the two men. "Are you going to split it between you?"
"Yeah ... but it isn't really that much," he said worriedly.
"Not that much!" she handed it back and shook her long platinum hair free from her shoulders.
"Shoot, that won't even pay Tom's dope bill."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You figure it out," he said as they came up to where the wild grass began running down to the beach. "How come you spend so much time with Tom?"
Chris stopped in her tracks. "Are you jealous?"
"Maybe I am." A guilty grin spread across his face.
"Well, you don't need to be ... Tom is like my brother. Okay?" she wrapped her arm around his waist.
They came up the dirt path to the back porch. As always, there was overly loud music coming from the living room, a fact of existence living with the two songwriters that the young blonde had thought would drive her crazy, at first, though now she was starting to get used to it.
"Still," Ken muttered to himself as she went through the screen door. "I told you the truth ... so that's fair warning."
Chris didn't think anymore about that as the short vacation extended into two, then three weeks and finally a month. The fall semester at Tulane had already started - without her -before she realized it. But it didn't matter. By now, it was generally assumed that she would be going back to California with the two men.
At breakfast, they sat in a shaft of sunlight on the porch, their heads bent over a pine table. Later, when the tide ran out, she and Ken would go for a walk. Still later, all three of them would sit down together at the big pine table and Chris would light a kerosene lamp. They would eat dinner and drink a bottle of cold white wine until Ken and Chris slipped off to bed, leaving Tom at the table, listening to the radio.
Then, one day, Ken came into the kitchen early from the living room where the two men had been working and pressed his chest tight against her back, his big hands seizing her firmly by her ripe young breasts. "This is going to be a very sexy day," he muttered. But the next thing the young blonde girl knew, he had said goodbye to Tom and taken off to Tampa without her!
After Ken had left, Chris and Tom went down to the water. They spent the day lying on the rocks and talking, then Chris came back at eight and went to bed early.
Much later, she awoke with a loud crash from the porch. The young blonde tossed the sheet from her nakedly reclining body, reached for the alarm on the bed table - it was two o'clock in the morning. She had just pulled on one of Ken's shirts when the songwriter appeared in the doorway. He was grinning and his face was flushed; Chris didn't have to look very hard to tell he'd been drinking ... in fact, he was carrying a small bar - cokes, ice and rum - in his hands on a tray in front of him.
"Oh, it's you," she drew her long blonde hair back from her forehead with her fingers. "I'm glad you got back from Tampa ... all right."
Now the songwriter stood at the bureau with two glasses and a bottle of rum, mixing drinks. "C'mon," Ken said as he sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, giving her one glass, "I want you to get drunk with me."
"Okay," Christina toasted him and drank. "Here's to getting drunk at two o'clock in the morning."
Chris choked on the dark strongly mixed liquid, but she finished it off, then the songwriter fixed them another round. He was still grinning and he seemed excited about something as he looked at her directly, trying to explain something to her despite the fact he'd been drinking. "Now if you want real happiness with me, Chris, you got to do exactly as I say. Right?"
"I suppose so," the young blonde laughed.
"Always you got to do exactly as I say," he went on seriously, ignoring her amusement, not laughing with her. "Now it might not make any sense at first. But if you do what I want and like I say, it will. Then, after awhile, at least you'll be happy!"
Chris lay back in her shirt, trying to get down the strong glass of almost straight rum. "What you're saying doesn't really make any sense to me," she laughed. "But ... I guess ... it sounds good!"
"Sure, it sounds good," he got up and moved to the bureau, grinning back at her. "Everything I say sounds good!" He finished off his drink and began mixing another round. "Now, first of all," he frowned back over his shoulder. "I got to break down all your taboos ... and superstitions."
"How do you know I have any?" Chris's eyes watched him, measuring the amount of rum, as he tipped the Bacardi bottle. Jesus, already she was getting high!
"Well, we'll see," he looked back over his shoulder with the same grin playing over his lips. "But first you got to get naked."
Ken came back to the bed and they drained their glasses and refilled them; then the blond-haired man was pulling open the sides of her shirt. She sat on the bed, naked under the shirt, the half-open front suggestively parted to expose her pink-nippled breasts. They began necking, with Ken nibbling gently on her ear, then he was running his hand along her responsively trembling thigh as she watched him with eyes that were getting difficult to focus.
Christina realized the drinks were hitting her hard. Now she was sprawled on her back on the bed and the shirt was completely open, revealing her entire naked body. One long slender leg was straight out and the other was bent at the knee, shamelessly exposing her blonde-fringed pussy. She was aware of her lewdly provocative position, but at the moment she just didn't care. She was excited in a vague, smoky way as Ken - still completely dressed - stood up beside the bed and smiled down at her. He had been talking to her and Chris was confused for a moment. What had he been saying? She wondered, suddenly realizing she'd been drinking way too much. Had he been making love to her?
"That's it, baby," his soft voice came to her soothing and insinuating. "I want you to be completely uninhibited."
Why not? she thought. Why not do what pleases him? Although she was certainly never going to drink this much again ... ever.
"I want you to be a slut, a whore," his voice went on hoarsely.
"Okay," Christina spread her long tapered legs farther and sliding one hand down the flat plane of her belly, began wantonly kneading her sparse blonde pussy hair with her fingers.
For a long moment, she fondled her rapidly moistening cuntal mound while Ken watched. Then, suddenly, there was a loud noise in the hallway and she started.
The surprised young blonde jerked her massaging fingers from her inflamed pussy. She tried to pull up the sheet and cover herself, but Ken's hand's pushed her assertively back.
"No, just stay like that," her boy friend said. "It's all right. I got something worked out. I want you to stay the way you are and do exactly what I say." He seemed to be returning to their earlier topic of conversation, though she could hardly remember it now.
He bent over her nakedly reclining body and thrust his tongue deep in her mouth.
"Now, you just lie right there," he said excitedly as he moved to the door. "Don't move! I'll be right back."
His sensually inflamed young girl friend sank back on the sheet and closed her eyes. Ken's aroused kiss, his long probing tongue had excited her further. Now she was drunk and anxious to make love and her thoughts weren't clear, but she felt good ... so goooooooood! ... terrific! She totally relaxed like Ken said, lifting her buttocks slightly, slowly rolling them around, enjoying the lewd sensation just moving her hips aroused in her.
Moments later, she heard voices and sensed that someone other than Ken was standing beside the bed. Feeling like she was fighting out of a deep coma, she managed to open her eyes and stare into the grinning face of a tall, red-haired woman!
"This is Sharon," Ken caught her hand when she reached for the sheet to cover herself. "She's an old friend of mine. I ran into her in Tampa."
Beside him, the girl he'd called Sharon gave a loud laugh.
"Who?" Chris mumbled and struggled vainly, once again, to pull up the sheet but Scarboro nudged her back.
"Sharon," the songwriter repeated, his huge form looming over her. "She works in a bar. She's a topless dancer. In Tampa."
Chris looked stupified at the woman. She appeared tall ... or maybe it was just because Chris was lying down ... and she must have been older than the young blonde, probably in her mid-twenties. Her micro-miniskirt and tight green sweater looked like they'd been glued to her curvaceous body and she was glancing at the songwriter in a flirtacious, amused way that Chris didn't much care for.
Then Sharon turned, as though she were going to leave the room, but Ken's hand caught her firmly by the arm. "Hang on. It's going to work out fine," he spoke in an insistent tone to the woman.
"But I ... I don't understand," Chris said in an alcohol-slurred voice.
Suddenly, the attractive redhead looked up at Chris's boy friend and wrapped her arm around his waist. "Oh, you will, honey, you will." She laughed. "You're boy friend here has wild tastes."
Ken drew away from Sharon and frowned from the edge of the bed down into Christina's face. "You're going to do exactly what I say, remember? ... Well, right now, I want you to just lie there and relax and let Sharon do whatever she wants to you."
The older woman looked at Christina's frightened eyes, then frowned doubtfully up at Ken. "Look, are you sure this is going to work out?" she shook her long red hair back from her shoulders. "I mean, I don't want to get into any kind of hassle," her eyes swept over Christina's voluptuous nakedness and lifted back to Ken. The redhead took a deep breath. "No sir, I've gotten by balling men and if you don't mind, I think I'd like to do it for awhile longer."
The blond songwriter looked annoyed. "I told you it's okay. This is a new thing for her, so she's a little upset and scared. Go on, you can be first."
Sharon grinned down at Christina who looked back up with big uncomprehending eyes. Did Ken really expect her to have sex with this red-haired woman? "No," she cried. "I've never done such a thing before!"
Ken walked up to the edge of the bed. "You're going to do exactly what I say!" he commanded. "Now just be still; no one's going to hurt you."
Ken straightened, walked away from the bed in his shoulder-shrugging way and sat down in a chair, moving the chair into good viewing position. He nodded to the auburn-haired dancer who pulled her blouse up over her head and tossed it onto the bureau. Seconds later, she unclasped a flimsy black brassiere, revealing her fully matured breasts.
Christina watched the rapidly undressing woman with her eyes still wide and unfocused from sheer shock. There seemed to be two of her. Two tall, curvy Sharon's, overlapping, were now stepping out of their micro-skirts as Christina watched.
Sharon twitched her hips as she began slowly rolling her black bikini panties down over her naked abdomen, until her V-shaped triangle of auburn pubic curls was visible to Christina on her ivory-skinned body. Finally, she pulled the skimpy black panties down her legs and tossed them on the floor, exposing her completely naked body to the watching couple.
Chris stifled a scream. This was a new, depraved side of her boy friend she'd never experienced before. Then Ken was pouring her another drink and handing her the glass and she was drinking it, to calm her nerves. "Why?" Chris asked her voice trembling.
"Because it gives me pleasure and you're going to like it, too."
Chris couldn't understand all he said. Her attention was constantly shifting between her songwriter boy friend and the red-haired woman. Now she looked up to see Sharon kneeling on the bed, up between her open thighs. She tried to close her legs, but she couldn't because Sharon's shoulders were in the way. In the struggle Christina's thighs had come apart, completely exposing the inverted wispy triangle of her blonde-fringed pussy. Her hands flew down to cover her helplessly uncovered vagina and Sharon gave a low chuckle, saying over her shoulder to Ken, "You didn't tell me she was going to be so hostile!"
Ken ignored her. "Chris, I want you to relax. Loosen up. Don't be so goddamn inhibited."
Christina closed her eyes and tried to keep from making any sound. She could feel Sharon's soft hand running over her quivering thighs, touching them in a slow sensuous way, lingering over the tingling insides of her separated legs, then gently trailing up to where her hands were cupped protectively over her naked pussy.
She could hear Sharon say, in a husky voice, "It won't do any good, honey. Remember, I'm a woman and I know what turns us on."
Gently, Sharon tried to pry Christina's fingers loose with the young blonde clutching all the harder, pressing her own fingers into the soft pink flesh of her cringing cunt, inadvertently separating the blonde-curled pussy lips one from the other.
Christina's whole body leapt as she felt Sharon's expert tongue licking softly on the quivering insides of her thighs and she tightened her hands over her whole trembling cuntal area with a sudden, helplessly excited moan. She could feel her clitoris swelling like a tiny nub of fire under her own clenching fingers, despite her attempt to hold the blaze back.
"Ohhhhhh, no, please no!" she moaned as Sharon's tongue began licking on and on all over her hands, trying to force its wet way between her covering fingers and causing shivers of lust to course up and down the young girl's spine. God, she didn't want to get turned on, but so lewd and obscene was the dancer's slavering at her straining thighs that little shocks of pleasure, like electric static, crackled through her entire helplessly responding body.
Wildly, she looked over at her boy friend, who leered with shameless delight, his cigarette forgotten in his ash-tray as he watched the older woman licking up and down between his young blonde girl friend's parting thighs.
Christina could almost feel the redheaded woman's eyes boring into the pinkly glistening slit of her cunt as it peeped erotically from between her protecting fingers. Then she felt Sharon's cheek resting on the sensitive flesh of her twisting thigh, close enough for the woman's nose and lips to be tickled by the sparse silken pussy-hair curling up between her clutching fingers.
The more the older woman's tongue probed, the harder the young blonde resisted, realizing with a frustrated moan that the harder she fought, the more desperately she was exciting herself. Sharon's tongue began darting around, searching for an opening, a weakness, as Chris - in order to prevent her - kept moving her fingers faster, inadvertently massaging her own pulsating cuntal mound. The desperate defensive movements only intensified her arousal and she realized she couldn't go on struggling against the pleasure much longer.
"Oh, God, no!" Her cunt was now becoming moist and her moans increased as the waitress's burrowing tongue found the one unprotected corner of her moistly throbbing vagina and slowly forced Chris's fingers to one side a fateful fraction of an inch. Now Sharon licked furiously while Christina gritted her teeth and fought with what little moral force she had left not to give in! The utterly delicious sensations rippling through her lusting young body were entirely new to the innocent coed. Yes, she thought, there was a raging need in her passionately demanding pussy - and maybe it could be quenched by another woman. Her moans increased and her heart fluttered as though she'd been injected with some strange aphrodisiac.
"Uuuuuuuuuh!" she coughed, an involuntary groan of delight escaping from her throat.
"Lie back. Just relax," Sharon said.
Then in a surprise move, Sharon darted her head lower so her tongue could find the enticing shadowy crevice of Christina's buttocks, licking crazily while her fingers worked to part and widen the younger woman's firmly molded ass-cheeks. Christina gasped and moaned while Sharon eased her hands under the girl's desperately churning buttocks to cup the two spontaneously wriggling half-moons in her hands. The tall, lustfully aggressive redhead tilted Christina's hips ever so slightly and the young blonde shuddered as she felt Sharon's tongue flick hotly over the sensitive little hole of her puckered anus. Then it was slithering inside, unimpeded!
"Aaaaaaaaargh," Chris groaned before she could think. "It feels ... gooooooood!"
Dumbstruck with shame, she moved her hands to stop the other girl and before she realized it, the redhead's moist mouth and tongue were working gluttonously over her suddenly exposed pussy lips! Chris twisted and writhed helplessly, thrusting her hands down on Sharon's perspiration-beaded forehead to push the woman's slavering mouth away.
"Oh, Ken, stop her ... she's trying to lick ... my pussy!" she called. But the protesting movement soon eased into revolving, undulating motions designed to get that torturously worming tongue farther up between her throbbing cuntal lips! She clenched and ground her ass-cheeks up and down, virtually helpless before the long searing tongue thrusting deeper up toward her love-starved vaginal hole. It was too good, too delicious to resist anymore!
Her mind flew back to that night in New Orleans, when she and Scarboro had seen the young starlet being used and ravaged by two different men at the Garden District mansion. With fogged vision, she looked across at him and moaned. There, sitting forward in his chair, he was watching again, but this time he was watching her shameless submission. Let him see, let him make her do anything and everything!
Oh God! She'd never had her susceptible pussy tongue-loved by anyone, let alone another girl. Lesbianism! Yes, that's what it was. It was contrary to everything she'd ever been taught or known, but she wanted it anyway!
Scarboro's impassioned girl friend lifted her head forward to see what she could, her eyes suddenly filled with the intoxicating spectacle of Sharon's long flame-colored hair streaming like wildfire over her own passionately heaving hips and thighs. She felt the soft magic puffs of cool air grazing her own delectably naked pussy, merging with the maddening wet caresses of Sharon's tongue now furrowing up into her glistening vaginal split from her warmly secreting cuntal mouth, then licking her tiny clitoris into excited hardness.
Then the redhead withdrew her burrowing head from between Chris's helplessly splayed out thighs. She leaped on top of Christina and ground her throbbing pussy down hard onto the blonde girl's aroused vagina, her soft pubic hair massaging Christina's moistening cunt and exciting the young coed still further. "Split those lovely legs as wide as you can, you're going for a real ride now, baby!" Sharon hissed.
Clear-headed for a second, Chris shot her boy friend an uncertain glance.
Ken was sitting on the edge of his chair. "Go ahead, let her fuck you," he encouraged. "Spread your legs so she can rub her cunt against your pussy!"
Christina felt the topless go-go girl's voluptuous, supple-fleshed body bending over her own and could feel Sharon's softly swaying breasts and distended nipples grazing tautly against her own breasts. The pretty redhead's mouth lowered down to Chris's lushly full mounds and sucked one tingling nipple into a quivering nugget shape. A wild sensation charged through Christina's entire nakedly trembling form. It felt to her as though a hot balloon were inflating inside her body, a balloon that could be exploded at any moment, depending on the next depraved whim of either her boy friend or the woman.
"Open your legs, yessss, open them wide," the redhead directed, lewdly sitting straight up over the young blonde's naked loins.
Sharon again began to grind her pussy hard down against Christina's cunt as the obscenely intoxicated younger woman mewled with shameless pleasure and thrust up rotating her hips around and around as if they were an oiled ball bearings. As the older redhead and the young college coed rubbed their excited pussies obscenely together, Chris watched her boy friend wrestling out of his clothing. He threw his slacks and shirt carelessly on the floor. Then she saw him standing at the side of the bed, his long rigidly swollen cock-shaft swaying out in front of him like an obscene serpent.
With a low guttural groan, Ken glanced at the two excitedly humping females and crawled up onto the bed from behind. Christina gasped heavily as his additional weight was being placed over Sharon who lay on top of her, forming an obscene sandwich with the redhead in the middle.
It took only an instant for Chris to figure out what her blond boy friend was doing. He was fucking Sharon's grateful young pussy from behind and the other girl was moaning insanely while her face pressed against Christina's. The redhead became blissful and she closed her eyes and groaned, "Ohhhhhhhhh! Fuck meeeeee! Yessssssss!"
Christina could feel the songwriter screwing wildly into the dancer from above, could feel his semen-filled balls slap down hard on her own exposed pussy flesh between Sharon's widespread thighs. With each thrust Ken made into the redhead's eagerly milking cuntal depths, the whole bed rocked violently; Sharon's belly jiggled and rippled against Christina's while the auburn-haired woman stabbed her tongue deep into the blonde's passionately accepting throat.
Ken shifted his weight and Christina could hear his cock's lubricant-slick length slip out of Sharon's moistly clinging cunt, then she felt it part her own unresisting pussy mouth. He was in a position to change from one hotly hungering cunt to another at will and now he screwed into his imprisoned blonde girl friend with an obscene vengeance. The redhead's additional weight between them, jiggling like a buffer of resilient foam rubber, increased the licentious effects of his wild, hard fucking. The tight wet heat of Christina's pussy sucked around her boy friend's rampaging cock like a voracious vacuum drawing ardently against the foreskin. Now the shamelessly excited blonde felt as though she were past orgasm, that she was too aroused to ever have one!
"Uuuuummmmmm," she hummed into pretty Sharon's passion-swollen lips, wanting this insane night to go on forever ... and forever.
She could sense the strange, obscene aspects of herself opening like a pornographic prism inside her. Ken, fucking her hotly receptive cunt and then slipping his cock into Sharon's eagerly rocking vagina moments later, was lewd and immoral, but so exciting!
Behind the redhead's kneeling body, Ken grabbed Sharon's nakedly trembling buttocks and kneaded the soft globe-like mounds avidly. Then, he fucked her some more from the kneeling animal-like position, plunging his ramrod cock home until it's turgid head slapped heavily against the cushiony tip of her cervix deep inside.
"Ugh! Ohhhhhh God!" Sharon groaned, raising her passionately straining buttocks for more.
It was savage! Wild! It was just too much! The thought of acting in such a bestial way and of being so sluttish was mind blowing! Then her boy friend thrusting up into Christina's own clasping pussy hole - forcing his thick, blood-engorged penis roughly between her widespread thighs while the redheaded woman joggled nakedly on top of her undulating body - was enough to drive her to the brink of orgasm.
"Ooooooooh, I'M CUMMMMMMMMMM-ING!" she moaned into the feathery softness of Sharon's long hair trailing across her face.
Like a crack of sizzling lightning, Christina was cumming, wracked and convulsed by a pleasure so sweet and intense her body turned liquid, became limp and with a loud groan, she collapsed.
And still, it wasn't over.
Chris moved to the side of the mattress, enjoying her body tingling so deliciously and the lewd sight of Ken fucking his former girl friend. She watched him on top of her, with the dancer's slender legs wrapped around his waist as he slammed into her tight little belly with frenzied pile-driving force, "Oh, shit - yes, fuck it, fuck it to meeeee!"
Sharon cried out in wild abandoned ecstasy. Chris could see the woman's orgasm approaching in the way the writhing redhead slapped her hands down on his flexing ass-cheeks, then flung out her arms.
Sharon's eyes tightened and closed and Christina felt a sympathetic whirlpool of delight racing through her own ravished pussy mound as she watched her boy friend's long, blood-engorged shaft pull out to just below the heart-shaped head, then plunge back up inside the go-go dancer's convulsing vagina again. The redhead kicked out her legs on either side of Ken's rigidly muscular torso, grunted, then fell on the mattress with a crooning high-pitched squeal.
Ken scrambled up from the satiated older woman and leaped like a wild satyr back onto his young girl friend. "Yes, Chris - It's your turn again, baby!" His wickedly impaling hardness slipped easily up into her orgasm-drenched pussy. The velvety warmth of her vaginal walls clasped and sucked hotly around him, urging him to fuck her into the bed without mercy or thought of injury.
"That's it, Ken," Sharon chanted from beside them. "Yes. Fuck the life out of her! Screw her tight little cunt into the mattress!"
Christina's still throbbing vagina milked him into a hardness and rigidity her blond boy friend had never felt before. Her hips were practically spinning in place as he groaned and lurched over her. He held the young blonde tight around her back, flattening her soft melony breasts against his chest, not even caring if she could breathe.
And then he came!
Like an erupting volcano, he spewed his hot sperm streams deep up into her lustfully tightening cunt, filling her to her tenderly sucking vaginal lips and fountaining more of the thick milky jets of semen until it felt as though he would burst her open like a cum-filled balloon!
The night became wilder, more abandoned. Between bouts on the mattress, they drank glass after glass of rum laced with Coke, then piled onto the bed again, acting as though the Bacardi company had spiked the liquor with an aphrodisiac. Half the time, they didn't care what they did and half the time Christina couldn't tell who was doing what to whom. Finally, she staggered up to the bureau for another drink, then collapsed on the bed, feeling the redhead lesbianically fondling her exhausted young body as she fell asleep.
In the morning, Chris woke with a start. She was hungover - a new experience for her - and last night came back to her like the worst nightmare she'd ever had, though she knew without thinking twice, it wasn't a nightmare. Her eyes flashed around the room ... the dancer was nowhere in evidence. There was only Ken Scarboro sleeping heavily, just like always. But now it isn't like always ... anymore.
"What were you trying to do to me?" a fierce cry of rage and near-madness tore from her throat. She clawed the air and gritted her teeth. She hated him ... wanted to hurt him! Almost instantaneously, she was on her knees, clawing at Scarboro's back, pounding on him, a female animal snarl escaping her twisted lips. Scarboro woke up fighting with her, having to use his strength against hers, forcing her down writhing and panting over his naked body.
"TOM! Jesus Christ!" he howled and exited for the bathroom.
It was an unusual day for the trio, with Scarboro hiding in the bathroom, refusing to come out because he thought Christina was crazy. Tom left them only to find Sharon swimming on the beach and drive the redheaded go-go girl back into town. When he came back a kind of peace had been made - Scarboro had promised that they would leave for California immediately.
Three hours later they were stopped in front of the only red light in Jeffrey, Florida. Chris sat in the back, Tom Hill was at the wheel and Ken Scarboro sat beside him clutching a beer can. A petite brunette passed by on the sidewalk and Scarboro rolled the window down.
"I got to drop this car off in Atlanta," he muttered back over his shoulder to the other two.
"We know that, Ken, we know that," Tom said patiently.
"Ma'am, you know the way to Atlanta?" Scarboro leaned out of the window.
"C'mon, Tom, drive, get us out of here," Chris gritted her teeth as the young woman turned and backed away from them with a shocked look.
"I can't ... It's a red light!"
This time, due to haste, the small Volkswagon was less precisely packed. Chris sat between two huge suitcases and there was another in the front under Ken's long legs.
"Do you love me?" Scarboro turned back to his blonde girl friend with a sorrowful expression. "You can just say it, you don't have to mean it."
"I love you," Chris said.
"And what about me?" Tom mused.
"I love you both," Chris wrapped an arm around each man and gave them each a kiss on the cheek.
"Whoopee!" Tom said. Then the light changed and they were off to Atlanta.
CHAPTER SIX
It was an early November afternoon in Los Angeles and the heat had still not broken. Tom and Christina and Ken gathered around the pool in the back yard of the two songwriters' luxurious home. Ken was sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water and holding a glass of scotch in his hand, while Chris hovered angrily bent over behind him in her blue bikini. She couldn't have worn much less without going around stark naked. It was a revealingly small suit and she never took it off, just as Scarboro always wore his swimming suit. Ken and Christina pulled on swimming suits in the morning like other people dressed in ordinary clothes. The only exception was Tom who wore his perennial black T-shirt and jeans. He looked uncomfortable because the young blonde and her boy friend were having an argument about the night in Florida - the only time the incident had been mentioned since they got back home.
"You're a ... a bully!" Christina searched for an insult.
Tom closed his eyes and concentrated on the smell of jasmine. Far down and along the back yard, behind the thick hedges, he could hear children splashing in the neighbor's swimming pool.
"No, I'm not," Scarboro's voice drifted back uneasily, sounding guilty.
"Ah ... hah!" Even with his eyes closed, he could imagine the way Chris' barely covered young breasts jiggled voluptuously as she arched her back up, letting the point sink in. She had got to him! She had hit home!
"No, I'm not," Ken finally recovered himself and got up to make another drink from the bottle sitting on the patio table. "A bully makes people do what he wants. You can do anything you want to."
"I bet."
"That's true," Scarboro said. Then there was the sound of ice cubes jiggling in a glass.
Abruptly, Tom Hill stood up and exited through the patio into the living room. He padded across the thick white carpet to the stereo, put on ear phones and plopped into a chair. Jesus, one thing he hated was conflict! He turned up the music as loud as he could stand it and let it beat the incident out of his head for a good half hour, then he got up again and moved to the large black grand piano at the front end of the room.
Now it was quiet ... everything was all right again. It was hot, but not unpleasant and Ken said that this month they were making a lot of money. Outside the plate glass window, roses and poinsettias were in bloom on the front lawn. Tom closed his eyes and concentrated on the smell of jasmine, then he began just doodling around on the piano, having fun, because it wasn't his instrument anyway ...
"Oh, I thought you had left the house," he heard Christina's voice from behind him.
Still playing, he turned and saw Chris walking barefoot over the carpet, her barely covered breasts swaying slightly as she moved toward him.
"Hello." She scooched her legs into the narrow space between the piano and the bench and sat down beside him.
Tom smiled back and kept on playing. Then his eyes crinkled up in an inquisitive look - Christina was looking at him in a warm, glinting way he had never noticed before.
"Where's Ken gone to?" he smiled back.
"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders. "Probably down to a bar on the beach. Who gives a damn anyway?"
Tom went on playing and she continued. "At least I don't ... do you?"
"No, I guess not," Tom hesitated and found himself grinning. He forced himself to be more serious and asked, "You guys make up?"
"Yes ... But who cares, you know? Personally, I'm glad he's out of the house for a change. You're more fun to be with than he is."
"I am?" Tom was surprised.
"Yes, you are."
"How?"
"Well, you can carry on a straightforward conversation for one thing. and well ... like remember that time we went scuba-diving?"
Tom found himself disappointed somehow. Scuba-diving and talking didn't seem like very exciting things to be remembered for. His eyes flicked wider as Chris leaned forward, bending her elbow on top of the piano and resting her head in her hand. Her ripe, young breasts moved closer together, deepening the cleavage between them and her long blonde hair flicked softly across his hand on the keys before she lifted her arm and pulled her hair back over her shoulder. As he looked at her skimpy blue bathing suit, he could feel a turgid heat in his testicles that signaled the beginning of an erection. He could feel his cock was getting hard by the way the tight, restricting material of his jeans was straining against his penis.
"You want to smoke?" he said, abruptly rising.
"No. You know I don't like smoking marijuana," she said and for some unknown reason he felt his legs grow weak and he sank back down onto the piano bench.
Chris laughed, flashing gleaming, perfectly straight teeth. She reached behind and tossed her hair again. She brushed a blonde wisp back from her forehead, strangely blushing and said, "You're stoned right now."
"Aren't I always?" he laughed.
Then she frowned and he imitated her expression. He turned to the piano and played a major chord, then slipped into a jarring dissonance, then bowed.
"Bravo!" she applauded.
"Thanks," he said and felt uncomfortable again as she moved slightly closer and turned toward him so he could feel her firm warm breast brush against his arm.
"You sure you don't want to smoke?" he said.
"C'mon, teach me to play the piano," she said, resting her hand on his arm.
"Well, I don't know," he said, feeling his balls melt and his cock freeze.
Tom Hill turned to the side and his eyes caught on Christina's smoothly sloping shoulder, naked but for the small blue strap holding up her bikini top. Then he was kissing her arm, nibbling at the sensitive goose bumps of flesh and she sighed and he was surprised she didn't try to pull away from him.
"Wow," he mumbled.
He was kissing her neck now, licking his tongue along the smooth suntanned skin until he was caressing below her ear, blowing hotly against the sensitive lobe. She didn't try to get up, though he held her now rigidly by the forearm, twisting himself toward her so that their lips met and his tongue wormed wetly into her mouth.
"Jesus," she said.
He laughed and kissed her again. For Christina, it felt like thousands of little needles were pricking at her loins. In the pit of her belly the white-hot heat merged with a weak feeling she'd experienced only moments before when she first sat down at the piano. She felt Tom shift his weight and then looked down to see him unzipping his jeans. It was a bright afternoon, but she figured the other houses were so far away that no one could see them through the open windows. In the white sunlight she looked down at the length of his hard young penis. It was long and slender, with a few black pubic curls anointing its base.
Tom touched her hand and guided it to his erect cock. At first, she tightened her hand into a fist, but as soon as he pushed his pulsating hardness against the ridges of her fingers, she unclasped her hand and instinctively wrapped her fingers around it. She began jerking his slender, fully erect cock in one hand, while Tom closed his eyes and heard himself breathing deeper.
Christina glanced out the window, once again, to see if anyone could see them. The street was empty now of any traffic and the closest house, on the other side of the street and a good distance away, looked shut up as if the occupants - an older screenwriter and his wife - were still sleeping. Through the open curtains, sunlight radiated around the piano, making her pale body look luminous and Tom's suntan appear smokily dark.
Suddenly, the young songwriter rose up and turning her around by her shoulders, stood in front of the piano bench so that her head was a scant few inches from the warm lust-inflated head of his cock. With no prompting, Christina reached up to hold his penis tightly between both hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused his hard-tensed buttocks to undulate in time to her maddening rhythm.
"Wow ... yes, keep it up, keep it up!" the dark-haired young man intoned to the sensuous figure sitting provocatively beneath him.
Christina's head moved slowly toward the slender hardness of his cock and suddenly her tongue flicked out, the tip boring teasingly into the slight moistness of the small opening at the end. "Ohhh!" he sucked in his breath from the excruciatingly pleasurable contact.
His lean stomach tensed and rippled and he could feel the sinews of his pelvis tightening spasmodically. He'd never even imagined anything like this before. It had all happened so fast that he supposed Christina was as surprised as he was. He watched as the young blonde brought her lushly ovalled mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of his slim hard cock in a soft warm pressure that caused the bulbously throbbing tip to become even more turgid and hot. Her lips tightened like a pink elastic band just below his pulsating cock-head, trapping his lust-thickened hardness maddeningly inside the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
"Ooooooooooh," he groaned, bending his head and staring down at his friend's girl friend's passion-contorted face.
The sight of his sensitive cock-shaft sunk halfway between her greedily sucking lips increased the sensation a thousand-fold for Tom. It seemed she was making all her movements deliberately provocative for him, bobbing and rotating her head in a lewd imitation of fucking.
The tall, dark-haired young man's long penis glistened like the wet limb of a sapling as it began to move in and out between the soft fullness of her encompassing lips. She massaged the velvety resilient skin of his testicles with one hand, then moved the other hand down along his abdomen and stroked the rock-hard base of his shaft between thumb and forefinger as she began to suck rhythmically up and down on his saliva-coated rod of flesh.
"Go on, go on," her boy friend's partner moaned at the softness of her tongue twirling with an obscene moist pressure around his naked cock-head at the apex of withdrawal, her tongue-tip dancing crazily across the tiny opening at the end.
He flexed his lean buttocks as he stood in front of the piano bench, his head still bent, his black hair falling loosely across his forehead. His smoldering eyes hazed over as he watched the top of Christina's blonde head bobbing salaciously up and down below. The exciting vision of her mouth encasing his wildly hammering penis was almost painful in its lewdness.
Christina could feel the throbbing reaction in his loins and began to suck a little harder, the tip of her teeth digging gently into the hard resisting pole of flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped blood from beneath the skin's surface. She shifted her position, without disengaging her wetly rounded mouth from his erect blood-engorged penis and sat farther up on the edge of the piano bench between his obscenely opened legs.
Reaching under his drum-tight testicles, she cupped the cheeks of his buttocks in her palms through the blue denim of his jeans, pulling his jerking loins up tighter to her face. Her tongue swiped around the warm bulbous head furiously until Tom made a grinding noise with his teeth. She knew he was near to bursting, as she took almost all of his rigid shaft deep in her throat.
She continued the maddening sucking on and on, pausing at long intervals to take a gasping mouthful of breath and then starting all over again, working over his young excited body like a contented calf sucking on its mother's teat. Tiny rivulets of sweat were rolling down between her half-naked breasts as he bucked wildly towards her, getting ready to spurt his white hot cum down her gluttonously sucking throat.
"Jesus Christ!" he gasped into the quiet, sun-shot living room.
The muscles on his stomach tightened until he thought they would snap from the pressure as he arched his back forward over her, pushing even farther between the hot clasping moistness of the pretty blonde girl's lips. He groaned over and over again, his mouth working crazily and incoherent mutterings spitting from between his tightly clenched teeth.
The moment was here and a low, guttural sound started from somewhere deep in his chest. Christina was caressing his sperm-swollen testicles with one hand, urging the impatient cum to make its mad dash from the churning reservoir of his swollen balls and then, he felt the first eager spewings in hot thin streams exploding into her hungrily suctioning mouth.
"Yeeeeeeeeeeow," he shouted, the tendons of his thighs stretching like a prisoner's drawn tight on a rack.
The pretty young blonde's cheeks expanded and hollowed fish-like as she greedily swallowed the warm flooding torrents to keep from choking. She went on sucking wildly as he emptied his fresh hot sperm deep into the wetness of her mouth. His feverish hands tangled in her blonde hair, holding her head to the hot eruption of his loins as he rammed his madly jerking penis all the way down to her tonsils.
"Aaaaaargh," his friend's girl friend coughed, swallowing to regain her breath.
Tom moaned his last and then, falling against the piano keys with a discordant clash, he sank slowly down to the floor at Chris' feet. Grunting in complete fulfillment, Tom basked in the delicious aftermath of sexual satisfaction for several minutes.
"I guess we shouldn't have done that," he said finally.
"No, we shouldn't have," Chris said guiltily and he was disappointed that she'd agreed with him.
"You were good," he said.
"You were too, Tom," she said, watching him zip back up his jeans after a long silence.
"You
were both just GODDAMN TERRIFIC," Scarboro's voice boomed from the dining room entry. In three long strides he crossed the living room and jerked at the window curtains so hard they tore from the rods. "You could at least have closed the fucking drapes!"
Tom Hill jumped up from the floor as if it'd been electrically charged. The songwriter was coming in their direction and he swerved across the carpet until he realized his partner was heading not for him, but Christina.
"Get into the fucking bedroom," Scarboro bellowed. He was already taking off his belt, doubling it and swishing it through the air with Christina running like a wild colt ahead of him. Hill watched wide-eyed as the older man chased the young blonde down the hallway, then the bedroom door closed with a loud thud behind them.
When the cries from the bedroom became too much for him, Tom put on the stereo; then, when they turned into lewd sexual gasps and pleas, he switched the music up even louder. Finally, when it all became too much for him, he disappeared into his own quarters and fixed himself up, sure for once that the rest of the world was worse off than he was. When he came down two hours later, they were still at it and he packed his bags.
Tom Hill was gone for three days. Chris and Ken anxiously sent telegrams to every place he might have gone to, even to his psychiatrist father in West Virginia. Then, when they were assuring themselves he was all right and would show up, he did show up. He'd been to Mexico.
Christina fixed a hurried dinner. They sat around the kitchen table and talked long into the night, with Christina listening curiously to Tom's stories about Mexico. Then she and Ken went to bed. She could hear Tom recording himself singing and playing his guitar, as he had a habit of doing on the tape recorder in the living room. He was doing a song he'd picked up in New Orleans.
"Well, I went down Vine Street, turned down Main,
Looking for the gal that sells cocaine ... "
Then she fell asleep.
In the living room, Tom played back the tape and didn't like it, turned off the machine and went to his room, glad to be back in his own bed. The next day they had a meeting with their lawyer and afterwards, the lawyer and the three of them went out to dinner. The next day he and Chris swam in the pool and then it was December and everything was the same as it always was.
CHAPTER SEVEN
In February the rain set in, but Ken and Tom hardly noticed it. They were completing a movie score that had to be finished before the fifteenth of the month and every day they got up at ten and worked till early the next morning. The two songwriters existed mainly on coffee and cigarettes; sheet music was spread between recording equipment, Tom's guitar-amp and the piano. From time to time, Chris popped her head in the french doors from the canopied back patio, only to be greeted with weird stares and grunts from Tom and Ken.
After several days' seclusion, the two songwriters emerged from the sanctuary of the living room with a heavy growth of beard on each of them. That evening they were just celebrating over champagne when Ken received a call from his lawyer saying he'd heard over the grapevine that Jack Maregan was out for Ken. Scarboro came back to the living room, with a crestfallen look, to admit how Maregan had seen him coming out of Micki's hotel room last fall in New Orleans. Now that the wealthy producer and his young wife were coming back from Europe, Maregan had decided to get very upset about it.
With a woebegone look, Ken brought out a bottle of whiskey and the three drank more seriously. Tom suggested Ken invite two close business associates of Maregan's over to dinner so Maregan would hear how settled and homebound Ken now was. Then someone, Chris could never remember who it was, was talking about her going to bed with two men, a producer and a lawyer, because that would really cinch things. Ken hadn't liked the idea ... and then he was liking the idea, was even exuberant about what a turn-on it would be and somewhere along the line Chris had agreed to go through with it.
That was all Chris remembered when she woke in the morning with a groan, her body aching and perspiration-covered as though she'd been worrying all night while she was sleeping. She'd agreed to it ... that seemed impossible now. Her body began trembling from sheer nervous tension. Pulling herself from the bed, she looked sorrowfully at Ken sleeping peacefully. Still, she couldn't ... she wouldn't do it.
Chris got up and took a bath, mentally preparing herself for everyone's disappointment. Dressed now, she sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for Ken to wake up. He came to with a grin ... after one look at his relieved face, she knew she couldn't fail him and Tom knowing they were counting on her. Oh well, she turned away as he dragged himself out of bed, all across the country people are having orgies ... even swapping wives ... like Ken said, everybody's doing it ... why not me?
Scarboro had to spend the day at the recording studio in Burbank, only calling to say everything was on for that night. It rained briefly that afternoon and the sun came out for an hour or so and then it rained again. The sun was blushing through the clouds once more when Chris finally heard some cars pull into the palmetto-lined driveway in front of the house. She wished Tom hadn't taken off. Still, in spite of her uneasiness, she couldn't help feel a tingle of anticipation race through her young loins when she saw three men coming up the front walk. She checked her appearance in the hall mirror - she was wearing a blue vinyl micro-miniskirt and see-through blouse and brassiere - then met them at the door.
To her surprise, Chris liked Ernie and Kevin well enough. The producer, Ernie Wilcox, was a little short and stocky and very bald. He was wearing an expensive-looking jacket and a broad smile and his eyes glinted when he laughed, which he did quite a lot. Both men appeared to be in their fifties. Kevin Taylor, the tall, silver-haired lawyer, drank too much Scotch after dinner and kept nudging up close against Chris where they sat on the end of the chaise overlooking the pool, enjoying the unusually warm night. It was late and quiet; Ken hadn't put the outdoor lights on and she could barely make out her boy friend and the bald producer, Ernie, where they sat in two lawn chairs across from her and Kevin.
"You're a damned good-looking girl, Chris," Ernie's voice cut through the darkness.
"Why, thank you," she eased farther away from Kevin and stretched out her long shapely legs in front of him on the stone patio. Her alcohol-hazed eyes flicked over the swimming pool water, silvery-blue in the moonlight, then Ken and Ernie were moving their chairs closer, making scraping sounds against the patio.
"You could go places with a body like yours." Ernie was half-joking, half-serious.
"What a line," Chris laughed. She was surprised to find her vision fogged even now that her boy friend and the jovial older man had moved into viewing range. She was drinking too much again, she thought ...
"No, I'm serious," Ernie went on. "You ever get tired of Scarboro over here ... you want some movie work, you know the guy to ask."
"I'll think about it," she said.
"No, forget that," he changed his mind. "I'm interested whether you got Ken or not. You come by, we'll do some film on you. Matter of fact, I think I could use you in a guest spot on a TV series ... It'd be about April."
"I'll come around then," Chris promised coolly, sensing it was better not to appear too eager.
It must have been two o'clock in the morning. No one was even asking for another drink. They'd had a great evening, but now it was time for the party to break up ... or to move on to something more exciting, Christina thought nervously and sipped her drink.
"Tell me, Chris," Ernie laughed, "do you ever go for other guys or does Ken here monopolize all your time?"
Chris waited for Ken to say something, but he didn't so she finally spoke up. "I do what I want to."
"You think you could handle the likes of me and Kevin?"
"I suppose so," Chris gulped. The question would have come up anyway, she realized now, but the incredible part was she was answering affirmatively!
"How about you, Ken?" Ernie turned to the songwriter. "You mind me and Kevin messing around on your turf?"
"Nah ... no hangups," Scarboro said.
"See that, Kevin?" Ernie said to the silver-haired lawyer.
"Uh-huh," Kevin appeared to be closed-mouth about everything. She guessed this sort of thing went on a lot in the Hollywood community. She'd heard of sex parties, had read about them in the magazines and had even attended one in New Orleans. But actually having one at her own house and being the only woman on hand, was a whole other thing. She suddenly felt a mixture of lewd curiosity about what it would be like and a strange dread that the party might get unmanageable.
"You like taking off your clothes in front of strange men?" Ernie's voice broke the momentary quiet.
"I don't know. I never did it before."
"Girls say they always get a weird kick out of it. Sort of like going on stage for the first time," Ernie laughed. "Butterflies in their stomach, the whole thing."
"I wouldn't know," Chris's voice was tremulous.
"Well, here's to us having a ball," Ernie toasted and downed his drink. "Chris, take off your clothes ... ladies first."
"Don't you think we should move inside?" Kevin spoke up from behind her for the first time in a long while.
"Now, our neighbors are even crazier than we are," Ken grinned.
At first, Chris's hands trembled slightly as she began slowly unbuttoning her see-through blouse. It had happened so quickly, before she'd hardly gotten to know the two men and now here she was, undoing the front of her blouse and dropping the gauzy fabric onto the patio table. Then she regained some of her poise. A night chill raced over her almost naked upper body as she stood up with her lushly formed young breasts swelling voluptuously out from her skimpy white brassiere.
"Now the skirt," Ken said enthusiastically.
Quickly, Chris unzipped the micro-skirt and slipped it down her legs. The awareness that three men were watching her disrobing sent an involuntary thrill through her. More modestly, she turned her back to them and bent over to pick up her skirt from the stone-floored patio, sensing their burning glances as the firmly rounded moons of her buttocks came into full view. Her white bikini panties slipped teasingly down into the narrow crevice of her ass-cheeks from the pressure of the position and remained indented in the hollow as she stiffly straightened up again to place the dress zombie-like on a white, wrought iron patio chair.
Behind her, she heard Kevin Taylor's breath quickening in harmony with Ernie's and Ken's and she felt strangely excited by their anxiousness to see her completely naked. The alluring young blonde turned, feeling totally ashamed and vulnerable and yet sort of liking the feeling with some tiny part of her deep down inside. Reaching hesitantly behind her, she unsnapped her brassiere and exposed the pink-nippled peaks of her breasts to their avid gaze, suddenly feeling more excited than she'd been in a long time. She could almost see her innate modesty and reluctance slipping away from her as the cool outdoor air washed over her and her nipples rose up in defensive hardness.
The songwriter's girl friend turned back to see a lewd grin spread over her boy friend's mouth. Ken leaned back gloating in his chair while each of the two other men leaned eagerly towards her. Her eyes swept over the grassy backyard and she shivered slightly, realizing that she now wanted this, that at some point in the last few minutes she had become strangely aroused!
With a slow teasing smile backwards over her shoulder, she hooked her thumbs into the thin elastic waistband of her panties and rolled the flimsy material inch by inch down over her full-fleshed thighs and long tapering legs and onto the patio floor to stand in front of them completely naked. An involuntary lascivious chill raced through her as their hungry eyes devoured her young curvaceous body for a long lewd moment.
"Hey, let's get out of these damn clothes," Kevin Taylor abruptly jumped up from the chaise behind her and began undressing, with Ernie quickly doing likewise. Only Ken held back, watching the wild spectacle. Suddenly, he got up to bring her another drink, then returned to his chair.
By the time Chris had rapidly downed most of her drink, the producer and the lawyer were standing before her completely undressed. Her eyes raced over their virile flesh - Ernie so rugged and mature and Kevin's body lean and slightly boyish looking, so different but equally desirable. Their two fully erect penises speared out excitedly at her, sensing her like two snakes about to strike! Suddenly, she had the feeling she was going to enjoy this evening ... more than anything in the world!
"Why don't you move onto the grass?" Ken laughingly suggested as the two men eagerly approached her where she stood by the chaise longue. "That thing looks like it's going to be a little crowded."
Chris finished off her drink and moved the slight distance to the yard, feeling the two men following closely behind her. Then the aroused and slightly drunken young blonde was dropping onto the grass with Kevin and Ernie. She felt the soft grass brush against her girlish buttocks as she came to a sitting position between the two men. She looked down, noticing both their cocks were rock-hard and ready and straining against her naked thighs as the lewd tension in the air increased. Chris could sense the excited jerking of their loins against her thighs and a lustful tingling throughout her whole body blazed down through her belly and into her moistening pussy where it centered with maddening intensity.
"Reach down and grab our cocks." Ernie's round brown eyes narrowed and her hands seemed to move by themselves to do as he had commanded. Then the two rods of desire-hardened male flesh lurched out and her hands curled automatically around each one, embracing a stiffly pulsating penile shaft in each palm.
She worked the two hardening penises gently between her clasping fingers for several minutes, sliding the loose foreskins up and over the blunt bulbous heads until droplets of clear lubricant appeared, oozing out of the tiny slits in the centers. Oh, this was so obscene! Soon after, Kevin's hand moved upward to cup her ripely curving young breasts, dipping his fingers into the deep cleavage and massaging slowly over the succulent mounds while Ernie, on her other side, pulled her legs wide apart and splayed one hand over her nakedly seeping pussy.
"Ooooooohhh, that feels so goooooood," Chris gasped. She felt so high ... so good ... so hot! Suddenly, she was riding high on alcohol and sheer obscene excitement.
"Oh!!!" she whimpered in lascivious delight as four lust-inspired hands coursed over her nakedly hungering young flesh. The voluptuous blonde girl was forced back down on the grass between them, her arms loose at her sides, trembling from the wicked sensations running through her unprotected body. Kevin's long blood-engorged cock rubbed warmly against the outside of her thigh, trailing soft wet drops of premature ejaculate in his excitement and increasing her delicious feeling of utter wantonness a thousand-fold. Then Ernie's mouth clamped down hard on her lips, his tongue splurging into her open mouth. Chris began swaying with the hard pressure of the short, stocky man and his companion rocking insistently against her.
The songwriter's girl friend gave each of their hotly throbbing cocks an extra tight little squeeze as her eyes caught on her boy friend watching avidly from the patio. He had moved to the edge of the chaise longue, which was closer to the yard and he was bent forward in the moonlight with voyeuristic excitement. Chris swallowed hard as the two older men's hands continued to roam with greater urgency over her softly quivering curves, their eyes and bodies straining closer and closer to her cock-rousing nakedness with each passing second. Her hands moved more rapidly now over the two jerking flesh-rods sliding in and out of her tight-clasping fingers.
Chris felt a rising tide of passion beginning deep in her gently trembling belly. The very wantonness of her spread-eagled position on the grass and the impending ravishment of her vulnerable young body sent tiny strange ripples of fire dancing through her alcohol-inflamed nerves. Just thinking about the two men both fucking her at once out here in the backyard made hot shivers of desire pulse through her tingling pussy and rivulets of warm cuntal moisture came gushing rapidly down between her legs.
"You ready now?" Kevin, the lawyer, said hotly. "I can't wait much longer."
"Well, you go on and do it to her," Ernie cracked. "It just might warm her up for some real fucking when I get to her."
"There's nothing I'd like better," the lean, more reserved lawyer studied the young blonde's provocatively curvaceous form spread out before him on the grass. He sat down on one side of her body, letting his eyes play momentarily over the lushly rounded mounds of her breasts on down to her sparse blonde pussy hair nestled between her thighs. He ran one finger greedily along Christina's delicately shaped ankle and she responsively drew up her leg.
Kevin was a man in his early fifties, but Chris noticed as he climbed over her naked body that he was as fit and muscular as a man of thirty. He edged up between her lewdly parted thighs and knelt in between them, his long slender cock jutting like a flagpole straight out from his silver-haired loins.
"Oh yes, yes, do it to me!" Chris groaned as he hovered over her in the night air.
"Now don't take all night," Taylor's producer-friend said impatiently. "I'm about to shoot my wad just watching you."
The lawyer's hands circled around Chris's girlishly narrow waist as he pivoted himself closer up between her widespread thighs. Chris scissored out her long shapely legs in lewd encouragement to him, anxious to get his long thick cock thrusting hard into her throbbing pussy. Then she realized he had something else in mind! He gripped her flaring hips until he'd wedged himself up to an obscene sitting position on her stomach, his pulsating cock wagging lewdly just below her passion-swollen breasts and the velvety softness of his testicles resting on her belly.
Chris lifted up her head from the ground, thinking he was going to plunge his erect penis into her mouth. "Oh, God, yes, yes!" she moaned, her glance falling thirstily on the lawyer's cock extending its lust-hardened head just below her melon-like breasts.
"I never fucked a woman between the tits before," a lewd, hungry expression flickered over the older man's face in the dim light.
Chris closed her eyes in momentary confusion as a tiny drop of male lubricant seeped from the small slit at the end of his cock. She felt him readjust his weight on her belly, shifting his heavy buttocks closer to her nakedly heaving breasts. He wasn't going to put it in her mouth, he was going to fuck her between her breasts ... God ... she thought drunkenly, it was going to be even more obscene and depraved, more thrilling!
"Oooohh," she moaned as the lawyer placed his hands on the incredible softness of her breasts and drew them close together with his eager palms. At the same time, he thrust his long white shaft into the deep valley between their tantalizing fullness. He cupped his hands harder around the sensually soft mounds and pushed them even closer together until only his blunt blood-filled cock-head appeared at the top.
"God, yessss!" the pinioned blonde girl gasped as she watched the massively pulsating penis slithering up and down between her breasts, the tiny opening at the end winking at her eye-like and straining to reach her chin!
"Oh, Lord, yes, fuck my breasts!" She could feel the hot shaft of rigid male flesh pulsing licentiously against her sensitive young flesh and an uncontrolled responsive tingle shot through the trembling mounds.
"That's it, Taylor, get her good and hot," she heard Ken's excited voice from somewhere in the half-darkness.
The lawyer's hands massaged the smooth succulent roundness of her breasts, tweaking the erect little nipples into diamond-chip hardness. He squeezed the lewdly stiffening buds between his thumbs and forefingers and a warm throbbing sensation raced through her quivering belly and down into her cock-hungry loins.
"Oh yes, do that to me!" she encouraged, beginning to strain with the new sensuality surging through her helpless young body.
Kevin's long hard maleness stiffened into even greater hardness when he felt her begin to writhe beneath him on the lawn. Her lewdly uplifting movements enveloped the lawyer's blood-engorged penis deeper up between her voluptuously formed breasts. He thrust it feverishly back and forth, increasing the speed of his strokes with each one, his mind reeling with overpowering excitement. Nothing else mattered but sinking his lust-knotted hardness up between the warm enclosing mounds ... he didn't hear Ernie's or Ken's voices urging him on, nor was he aware of his own animalistic groans of pleasure, as he kneaded the lust-inspiring softness of her breasts with hands he no longer controlled.
"Shit," he sighed, looking down to see in the moonlight the way the tight wedges of flesh protruded in white bloodlesss ridges between his wide-splayed fingers. His head dropped to one berry-like nipple and he began sucking hungrily on it.
Chris gasped, feeling the warmth of his breath flowing over her straining chest and arms. His hands forced her breasts tight over his insanely throbbing cock until it had completely disappeared in between!
"Shit, I've never seen anyone get it between the tits like that," Ernie Wilcox's voice rasped disbelievingly beside them. "I'm not waiting any longer."
Quickly the producer slipped down into the grass and lay aslant her body so that his loins hovered intimately beside her face. He reached toward her immediately and clamping his hands firmly on the sides of her head, twisted his fingers in her long disheveled blonde hair. She sensed his excitement, his almost overwhelming lust and it made her rock her body that much harder under Kevin fucking between her breasts.
Oh God, this is wild, she thought. The two men were doing things to her that she'd never dreamed of ... obscene things she'd never heard of happening to any woman ... much less herself!
Her thoughts were cut off with the heels of his hands digging into her cheeks. He pulled her face downward until her lips brushed over the blunt bulbous head of his cock standing out in full blood-hardened erection between his legs so near. It felt smooth and hot and was slippery from the excited secretions of his loins.
"Yessssss, let me suck your cock," she gasped. "Suck your cock while Kevin fucks ... my breasts!"
Ernie's hotly pounding cock, sliding up into the warm suction created by the young blonde's firmly clasping mouth, made a lewd wet sound as it entered. Moving her head sideways, Chris lowered her mouth down on the rigid rod of male flesh all the way until the bald-headed man could see nothing but a small white bit at the base protruding from her stretched pink lips surrounding it. Chris began a slow back and forth movement with her cheeks convulsing and expanding as she worked her way far up Ernie's cock until just the tip of his stone-hard penis was left inside her warmly enclosing mouth. Then, with a loud sucking noise each time she made a movement, she moved her face back down on him, impaling her mouth completely with each long smooth stroke.
It was all too much for the lawyer. Above her, Kevin's slow rocking motions built quickly into a lewd crescendo of crazy fucking. Chris began rocking her hips back and forth, almost uncontrollably in time to the lawyer's wildly skewering movements between her breasts. Beneath the twisting weight of his hips, she could feel his sperm-filled balls slapping harshly against the smooth flat plain of her stomach. He fucked into the long hollow between the lush moon-like mounds faster, faster, faster. Sweat poured down his arms into his tightly clasping palms, moistening the deep valley, between her breasts ... and then ... then, she felt him stiffen convulsively above her.
"Christ, I'm going to cum between her tits!" Kevin gasped.
The lawyer's crazily jerking cock shot its white-hot streams in violent spurts up through the full heaving mounds of Chris's breasts like a geyser exploding between two soft hillocks. The wild gusts of pent-up sperm splashed obscenely on her chin and rivuleted in oozing white pools on her straining neck and Adam's apple, flowing over her shoulders and down onto the grass.
Chris felt cold air rush over her as the satiated lawyer pulled himself off her body and staggered nakedly back to the patio for a badly needed drink and she sucked more avidly on Ernie's penis still thrusting hard into her mouth. Jesus, she hoped the lawyer would soon get hard again! WASN'T ANYBODY GOING TO FUCK HER? Then, abruptly, she knew it wasn't over yet as another body moved across the backyard. Ken Scarboro stripped quickly and crawled up between her outstretched legs and then she felt his strong hands pushing her thighs farther apart.
"Wonderful," she mumbled drunkenly around Ernie's cock skewering deep into her clasping mouth. "Fuck me while I suck Ernie's cock. Both of you at once! Oh, so exciting ... make me cum!"
"I will baby. I will!" Ken said, positioning his hotly pulsating cock's head hard up against her tight little pussy hole.
The songwriter rammed his long thick cock right up to his pelvis with a body-jolting thrust. Chris groaned in wild sexual delirium as she felt its fulfilling hardness deep in her stomach. Then he began to fuck into her with a deliberately slow rhythm that whipped the ever-growing flames of insatiable desire into a raging inferno of lust. Every plunging thrust, rippling like steel through her rapturously clinging vaginal walls, brought her closer and closer to a new and higher peak of ecstatic pleasure which she had never experienced before.
"Suck," Wilcox groaned above her. Impulsively, the young blonde reached up between the producer's hairy legs and gently squeezed his sperm-laden balls as he sank his saliva-glistening cock down the back of her willing throat. Sweat poured down his face as he strained to see between the nakedly writhing, wildly fucking bodies of the songwriter and his young blonde girl friend. The tightly clasping lips of her pussy clutched like a strong fist at the thick fleshy shaft that was pistoning in and out of her pink vagina opening in slow, urgent motions. He could see the rigid, shining penis pull nearly out of her hair-rimmed opening, then disappear again between the moist pink walls as Ken rammed his pile-driving cock into her tight little cunt again and again.
Suddenly, Chris knew she was going to explode into orgasm. It was there, just around the corner, still teasing, forever tantalizing her!
Immeasurable ecstasy began to flood through her tautly rippling belly and thighs. She began to fuck in unison with the two men in uninhibited gyrations, her shamelessly aroused body and mind all centering in now on the fantastic churning sensations deep in her lust-heated loins. God ... she had never felt this turned on in her life!
Then she realized Ken's suddenly swelling cock up inside her cunt was about to explode, too. The thought excited her to a fever pitch of desire and her hips rolled and undulated like they were floating in warm liquid oil. Scarboro slammed it home deep up into her wetly quivering pussy with insane, almost brutal force. Harder and deeper he lunged, making his cock churn lewdly from side to side in the saddle of her legs.
"Aaaaaaaagggggsh!!!" she began to cum ... and cum again. "Oh God, I'm cumming. Fuck me! Both of you! OH GOD! Fuck me! FUUUCCCCKKK MEEEEEE!"
Ken buried his madly jerking penis as deep into the wet velvety heat of her tight little cunt as he could and felt his cock expanding to even greater dimensions. After watching the lewd spectacle of his girl friend with the two men, he had held back as long as he could. Now he gave one last, pounding thrust that sank his cock right in up to his pelvis, wet and matted with the juices that nearly gushed from her madly convulsing pussy. And the flood of his sperm - held back so painfully long - exploded in a steaming burst that filled her belly with his warm load of jism. Over and over - a dozen times or more - his rapidly deflating cock fired its white-hot cum into her greedy womb before collapsing into a useless, rubbery rope of flesh.
Chris's face fell forward on Ernie's thigh. At some point, she couldn't remember during her conscious-shattering orgasm, his stiffly thrusting penis had slipped from her sucking mouth.
"Oh, it was all so wonderful, so fantastic!" Chris gasped as the two men pulled from her sperm-drenched body, leaving her panting and heaving in blissful satiation on the sperm-coated grass. God, she would never had imagined herself doing such a thing! But she had ... and she had loved it!
They dressed and moved back into the house, all of them foggy and slow-moving from so much sex and drink, walking as if they were drugged. Ken fixed two more rounds of drinks and finally, as the sky outside was turning a light gray, Chris watched their visitors' two automobiles pulling out the driveway, each of them leaving in separate cars. Ernie and Kevin both waved good-bye after they had maneuvered their large cars out into the suburban street, then Chris turned to her boy friend standing beside her in the doorway.
"Well, we got through that one, didn't we?" she said.
"Got through with it?" he turned back into the living room. "You seemed to be loving every minute of it!"
"Well, you weren't exactly disapproving ... that I recall."
"Yeah, I admit it. I liked watching you," he grinned suddenly. "It turned me on."
They turned into the bedroom and plopped, fully dressed, on the king-size bed. Chris reached behind and unzipped her skirt, too exhausted to even stand up to undress. It was six o'clock in the morning and right then she felt like she could sleep through the next day, Saturday.
"Look," Ken rolled over on his side and propped his head on his elbow, staring at her till she turned to look at him. "We might want to do something like this again. So ... let's make a deal right now! ... When we're together, anything goes, but when we're separated no sex for either of us. Okay?"
"Yeah ... why not?" Chris smiled after a short pause.
Chris slept all day Saturday and when she awoke early Sunday morning, the evening with the producer and the lawyer seemed like something crazy she had dreamed and very distant in the past. She and Ken drove over to visit some friends who lived in the canyon. Then Monday Tom was back. After they'd rehashed that night with Tom, no one talked anymore about it. In the next few weeks, she only thought about the lewd experience once or twice and the same went for the agreement with Ken. It didn't seem to have anything to do with their lives - they were never parted and no more lawyers or producers presented themselves.
One day, when it had just turned March, Chris had an idea. It was a rainy afternoon, following two days of drizzle and she was feeling bored and impatient with everything being normal. She dragged Ken out of the living room where he had been working with Tom and said through his irritation, then to his surprise, "Ken, why don't you take me to the Mardi Gras in New Orleans? Everybody who is anybody is going. I want to go back to the Carson's house and watch those people doing lewd things. I want to be up there on the mattress ... like that blonde girl! Remember?"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tom went with them. The three watched the Mardi Gras parade from a local television executive's office on St. Charles Street, before moving on to the party at the Carson's house. The Mardi Gras seemed to have hit New Orleans like a wild, drunken storm. Down below, the sidewalks were jammed and the costumed figures marching ankle-deep in confetti and beer cans. In the cab over to the Carson's, Chris could see the activity spreading out from the French Quarter as they passed by the Irish Channel and the black neighborhood where St. Charles Street turned onto St. Charles Avenue.
The taxi pulled up in front of the wealthy oilman's home. To Chris, it seemed even larger than before - its Greek facade set back amidst tall oaks and hanging moss. To Chris' surprise, the cowboy actor Jason Crawford was there also. This time, he didn't meet her at the door, but they ran into him standing at the bar with an attractive redhead. They'd had several drinks at the bar when Ken inched Tom and Chris through the crowd to introduce them to Frank Carson, their wealthy oilman-host. Carson was almost as big as the cowboy star. He claimed he was a Cajun - of French descent and from the bayou area - but he looked, to Chris, more like a Texan. His wife Jeanie was a petite brunette and Chris was somewhat startled by the discrepancy in their sizes.
"How long you three had this little menage a trois?" Carson joked.
"You got to talk English to me," Ken said.
"Your little threesome," the oilman translated, giving them a lewd look.
Ken appeared suddenly angry and Tom blushed.
"We're not anything like that," Chris said. "We just happen to live together."
"Well, I don't really understand it, but everyone has a right to do his own thing, I always say," Frank Carson wrapped his arm around Chris as the group - minus Tom who abruptly excused himself - moved down to the basement.
Now, it seemed hours had passed since they'd first descended the stairs into the luridly illuminated room. It was almost as though time had slipped a gear and Chris was suddenly naked, standing on the center mattress, peering out into the audience, trying to figure out where Ken had gone. He had given her a drink and mysteriously disappeared just before they had undressed her and then led her into the full glare of the spotlight. It was so bright that she could only hear voices and for all she knew, Ken had moved to a closer viewing position right at her feet. She felt as if she were on a stage ... well, she was on a stage, she realized, as she felt eyes focused on her helplessly naked body; she could feel the audience, hear their voices and sense their lascivious mood building as she stood there totally defenseless and virginal-looking.
Where was Ken? she wondered panic-stricken. Maybe he could tell her why she was standing out there, why she was doing such a weird thing.
"Is that all she's going to do?" a voice asked from the darkness.
Several others laughed. "She's new," a woman's voice answered.
"Yeah, give her a chance."
"For Chrissakes, let's have some action!"
"Grab your tits," another voice commanded. "Hold 'em in your hands."
Chris stared into the crowd, trying to see where the voice had come from. Maybe it was Ken's. At this point she could hardly tell one voice from another. Carson had given her something - marijuana, she thought - when she had first come downstairs.
"Touch 'em!"
Automatically, her hands moved to touch her pert little nipples that were hardening in then-naked exposure to the air. The voluptuously set mounds quivered sympathetically beneath her fingers and she could feel the blood pulsating into her berry-like nipples, throbbing uncontrollably at her own touch.
"Caress them," a woman's voice - it sounded like Carson's wife Jeanie - came from her feet.
Christina was conscious of people sliding all around her, as though magnetically drawn to her succulently endowed body. They were idly fondling one-another's bodies while they looked up at Chris' youthfully firm breasts and watched as she began to squeeze and massage the warm-fleshed mounds. They gazed on in silence as the nipples began to stiffen excitedly, smiling to themselves, knowing that whatever the shamelessly naked young blonde believed, she was beginning to feel a lewd sexual excitement.
"That's it, go ahead," she heard a man's voice in front of her.
Chris' fingers trembled as they touched her bud-like nipples and rubbed on them, her fingertips brushing over the throbbingly stiff ends. An unholy tongue seemed to be licking devilishly at her loins and without a will of her own, she moved forward, her hips undulating.
A flashbulb from a camera exploded from somewhere in the darkness ... catching Chris as a smile of uncontrolled pleasure flickered across her lush pink lips. Where is Ken? she thought. Then her attention was distracted by a figure moving toward her. It was Carson's petite brunette wife and she, too, was voluptuously naked.
"Now you just stand there," Jeanie said.
Obediently, Chris stood on the mat, looking at the hostess with a confused, drug-hazed frown. The brunette knelt down before her and lewdly spreading Chris' legs apart, buried her face in the young blonde's invitingly exposed pussy flesh. Chris responded with a jolt as the woman began licking her passion-moistening cunt, then suddenly stuck her long probing tongue as far up the younger girl's responsively grasping little pussy hole as she could go. Her hands reached around and cupped Chris' involuntarily rotating ass-cheeks as she licked grazingly until - with Chris just on the verge of orgasm - the brunette herself began cumming from mental excitement alone, jerking and quivering convulsively at Chris' feet, her hands clutching and unclutching in spasms on the blonde girl's buttocks. Leaving Chris gasping, she staggered back, weaving and saying, "That's enough for now!"
The young blonde stifled a moan of acute disappointment. It didn't seem fair the way the older brunette woman had tongue-loved her pussy ... and then just left her hanging. Not after Chris had subjected herself to the humiliation of being up there - nakedly performing in front of all these hungry-eyed people and it was humiliating, she realized now. Suddenly, Chris remembered the night she had watched that other young blonde on this very mattress. She recalled the girl being fucked into wildly by one man, then sucking on Jason Crawford's monstrously large penis, but never once had she seen the girl cumming. They couldn't do that to her ... she wouldn't let them.
She looked up hungrily as an unfamiliar red-haired man approached. He didn't say anything, but pushed against her body in a way that she knew meant he wanted her on her knees. Then, with Chris in an obscene dog-like position, the man climbed onto her sleekly curving buttocks and she felt the bulbously thick head of his cock rubbing up and down her secreting vaginal split. He began fucking into her tight little cunt at once and Chris' head was thrust viciously down into the mattress.
It was rape, it was brutal and barbaric and Chris was in agonizing pain as he continued to fuck into her fearfully clenching pussy ever harder and deeper, the head of his penis banging brutally up against her cushiony cervix at the end of each long, smooth cock-stroke. Then, almost miraculously, Chris went into a kind of overdrive, above and beyond the pain. It was almost as if she could remove the pain and enjoy the helplessness of her plight. It was exciting to be humiliated and hurt and as she felt the feverishly thick cock-head swelling to fitful explosion, her own orgasm rolled over her with all the force of a fifty-foot wave.
They came up to her one after another, men and women and the helpless young blonde had to do whatever they wanted. And she did that, did it all willingly, sucking and licking and fucking until her trembling young body was covered with sweat and slippery cum. One man crawled upside down over her and they did "69" and soon she was tossing out her fifth mind-blowing orgasm. She was just getting tired when the tall, massively framed oilman and host, Frank Carson, stepped into the circle of light and a murmur went around the room. Chris had rolled over on her stomach and was looking for Ken again, so she didn't notice him until Frank was right on top of her.
Chris' eyes widened as her glance fell on his obscenely jutting cock. His penis was the biggest thing she had ever seen! She couldn't believe it and thought, for a fleeting second, it was some kind of silly joke.
"This one's going up the ass," Carson announced proudly to the crowd, grabbing his thickly veined penis and jerking it back and forth as though it were a flagpole held in his hand. Then he sank down to the mat and kneeled on all fours over the nakedly prone young blonde.
"What ... what? No!" Chris turned and gasped as the meaning of what he was saying struck her with full force. She tried to pull out from under the oil man's muscular weight, but that was impossible. It couldn't be true! She had tried to please everyone with all the lewd tricks she had learned from Ken, but this wasn't right! Good Lord! It was inhuman to have a long thick cock ramming into her virginal rectum and she clenched her legs and buttocks tightly together in frightened reaction to the thought.
Through her daze, the trembling former college student felt his fingers coursing like insect wings over her back. Then, Carson's strong fingers sank into the softly curving flesh of her buttocks and drew apart the milk-white ass-cheeks. She tried to keep them clenched together, but wasn't able to as he applied the full force of his brute-like strength. Her slender legs fell open and she shivered in fear as an invading rush of cool air coursed over her nakedly exposed anal crevice.
"No, please don't do it to me ... not there, no, please?" she pleaded, but Carson didn't so much as bother to answer.
Chris could hear Carson suck in his breath. The tiny puckered ring of her anus came into full view and she flexed cringingly at the inner sinews of her naked nether passage in a desperate effort to protect the vulnerable spot and prevent the cruel penetration she knew was coming. Her whole body stiffened in fear as Carson's outstretched middle finger probed gently at the rubbery anal ring. Then he plunged his finger paralizingly forward, sinking it into her pain-seared rectum with a sharp rasping lunge as far as the first knuckle.
"Aaaaaaaagh!" she groaned. "No, please, no! Stop!"
But the older man didn't stop there - without giving her a moment to adjust to the strange unnatural presence in her rectum he shoved his finger in steadily deeper to the second knuckle. Chris closed her eyes to ward off pain. His fingernail caught briefly in the soft fleshy lining of her vainly resisting passage, increasing the harsh biting pain that enveloped her loins. She groaned and slithered forward on her stomach on the mat, making another useless effort to escape.
"Oh, no. Please don't. You're hurting meeeeee!" she choked hoarsely, wishing someone would help her. "Frank ... please?"
But the only response from the lust-driven man was a lewd chuckle. She could feel his massive cock rubbing lasciviously against her naked thighs, as his brutally grinding finger prepared her virginal anus for a violent fuck. Tears of shame and humiliation began to stream down her cheeks. She realized Frank Carson hadn't been talking idly. He really was planning to fuck into her tight little rectum. The oil man had drugged her and now he was going to mercilessly screw her. He was so intensely involved in that effort that her protests of pain and unwillingness meant nothing to him.
"Ooooooooh, please, for God's sakes, nooooooo!" she again tried to wrench away from him. With one hand, Carson gave her a spine-shattering shove back down to the mat.
Finally beaten, the sobbing blonde let her buttocks go limp to be used as her wealthy host wished. She steeled herself to endure the pain, not knowing where she could expect it next.
"She's got a nice tight ass," Frank announced from behind, digging his fingers cruelly into her virginally puckering anus, widening and expanding it without mercy. The older man shoved a second finger in alongside the first and then both were in the tight narrow passage between her quaking buttocks, causing her to jerk painfully forward.
Suddenly, he pulled the fingers out of her and Chris sighed with momentary relief, allowing her tormentor to force her trembling legs wide with his knees. She flushed deeply as she imagined the leering expressions on the audience's faces while they peered at the naked little rectal opening that Frank would cruelly violate in the next few moments. She jerked again at the strange feeling when he leaned forward to drop spittle from his lips onto her pinkly clutching anus to moisten and lubricate his entry.
"Up! Get up on your knees," Frank commanded, totally confident of his obscene power over her.
The frightened young blonde complied without hesitation. Moaning, she jerked her hips up to a kneeling position, leaving the full white mounds of her breasts swaying wantonly beneath her. Her buttocks were thrust high in the air, waving in open invitation, while her tightly clenched rectal entrance puckered in contrasting fear and helplessness.
The oil man kneeled behind her, placed his hands on her fearfully jerking ass-cheeks and drew them firmly apart. The full blood-hardened length of his cock slid searchingly up and down the warm nether crevice, teasing her depravedly and then grew and expanded to even greater size from the lewd contact. The older man levered himself up on his arms. He pressed slightly with his hips for a moment, directing his rock-hard penis straight into the tight-gripping little orifice like an inhumanly driving stake!
"Aaaiiiieeeee," Chris gasped from the first hard pressure between her wide-held buttocks.
It was so huge! She could never take that monstrous cock in her rectum without it ripping her belly in half! But before the fearfully trembling young woman could jerk away, Carson's hands dug into her shoulders, holding them down hard and flat against the mattress. She could feel his muscularly rippling thighs pressing closer. The lewd probing of his heatedly searching cock into her puckered anus increased.
A deep soul-shattering moan escaped from her contorted lips at the searing pain that shot through her loins as her tightly clenching back passage gave away before the unyielding pressure of his cock. "Uuuuuuuugh," she groaned as the blood-swollen head popped up inside.
It was too big ... it was just too much!
The cruel unnatural intrusion brought great waves of pain vibrating through every fiber of her helplessly kneeling body. She groaned in anguish as he thrust mercilessly onward, filling her elastically yielding rectum with his expanding hardness. Time became meaningless. She focused randomly on little dust-motes floating before her eyes, trying to ward off the pain by distracting her attention. But it was hopeless. She seemed to be caught in an eternity of excruciating agony. Her eyes widened as his pressuring penis increased the unearthly torture till she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily against her widespread buttocks. The giant rod of male flesh was buried to the hilt in her aching rectum!
And then he began fucking into her obscenely expanded nether passage, thrusting up with long hard lunges that threatened to tear her loins into tiny shreds. Falling into a relentless driving rhythm, he buffeted her helpless body beneath him as though she were a rag doll. The songwriter's defenseless young girl friend grunted in pain. She tried to tear herself from under him, but her muffled groans and whimpers merely incited him to smack his pelvis against her quaking buttocks harder and deeper.
Chris could feel tiny ridges of her spongy, resilient rectal flesh pulling out with the base of Frank's virile cock as it withdrew for another vicious lunge inside. "Ken?" she called out, but all she got back for that was laughter from the audience.
Chris sank into a dazed, half-conscious state. The wild evening and the marijuana had lulled her senses into a drugged acceptance of what was going on. There was nothing, for a moment, except a kind of palpable silence inside her head. Time had vanished, to be replaced for an instant with a view of a terrifying eternal present. She was vaguely aware of the audience murmuring, people doing depraved things to each other as they watched her and her voice diminished to a low piteous whine.
She discovered it didn't hurt when she didn't try to fight the pain which was slowly decreasing. And then, as she became certain there would be no pain, she actually began to enjoy it. It was a strange, masochistic joy, brought on by the very helplessness of her position and the thought of being used so animalistically in so obscene a fashion.
Moving her hips slightly and finding the motion didn't hurt, the obscenely skewered young blonde began undulating her buttocks slowly at first and then with greater force as she gained confidence, causing a lewd thrill to course through her entire kneeling body. She began to move backwards to meet the rigid upthrust of Frank's skewering cock plunging into her wide-split rectal passage. Her hips and buttocks moved in slow sensuous circles under the older man's thrusting loins.
Suddenly, she reached behind them both, her sharp nails biting like barbed hooks into his ass-cheeks, holding him pressed firmly against her wantonly undulating buttocks. With each downward thrust of his hips, she pulled with all her strength, driving his long sodomizing shaft as far as it would go up into her no longer virginal rectum.
"Oh, God, nothing ... nothing has ever felt so gooooooooood!" she moaned, flailing her head to and fro like a madwoman.
Chris knew she was nearing her climax. She could tell by the lewd, rippling sensations intensifying within her desire-tautened little belly.
And suddenly she was there!
"Oh, God. Fuck my ass ... FUCK MY ASS!" she screamed, caught up in sudden joy, her arms flailing helplessly at her sides. "Fuck me ... fuck me."
The older man stepped up his wildly pounding rhythm, fucking as hard as he could up into her insanely milking anal channel, tunneling faster and faster through the warm velvety flesh that rippled against his exploding cock. Sweat was pouring off his back as he shoved his long throbbing penis up into her anus again - and again - and again! He felt his orgasm nearing and a grin flashed over his sweat-streaked face as he felt the first tremors within her belly.
"Aaaaaaaaaaagh!" With her little remaining strength, Chris lifted Frank's weight on her back and raised her head to scream. "Oh God, I'm cummmmmmming ... cummmmmming! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I'M CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMING!"
Carson's arms reached under her tapering waist and held her buttocks completely off the ground as he fucked up into her tight convulsing anal passage with every ounce of energy he could summon, rocking his loins back and forth with a savage motion as he buried his wildly ejaculating penis in her rectum. One more deeply plunging lunge ... then another and finally ... his white-hot eruption splattered deep up inside her lewdly skewered belly, flooding her with its powerfully jetting spurts of sperm. Through a mindless haze of pleasure, Chris could feel everything, a hot flood of cum that filled her insides to bursting ... and the joy - a rapture which was so sweet and powerful that it shorted out all her senses and she felt herself falling ... falling ... into a warm oblivion of unconsciousness.
When she awoke, she was lying on a couch in the corner of the room. She moaned. Her ravaged loins felt cut and bleeding. On the mattress, the show was still going on with the cowboy actor, Jason Crawford, humping into Carson's wife's rhythmically waving buttocks. Chris picked her way through the crowded floor until she found her clothes.
"You're not going?" a nice-looking blond man that Chris had never met before smiled as she stood dressing in a corner.
"Yes, I think I've had enough for now," Chris smiled back as she exited through the doorway.
Christina slipped into a nearby downstairs bathroom and washed. Ken had obviously left the downstairs room. Why he had taken off like that, she couldn't imagine, but she just had to tell him how free she felt. She had done all the wild things there were to do and there was nothing more to be experienced!
Chris didn't have to walk very far along the downstairs hallway to discover how wrong she was. She had just left the bathroom and was heading for the stairs when she heard voices in a bedroom next to the downstairs playroom. There was a loud laugh, only too familiar. Chris's heart actually stopped beating as she opened the door and stood looking at the final humiliation: Ken, naked, making love with a pretty young redhead.
The young blonde closed the door and stood there for several minutes before she climbed zombie-like up the stairs. She collided with Tom at the top, lugging his guitar around by the neck as though he were about to leave.
"I was just going down there to look for you guys," he said.
"Well, I'm here," Chris said. "And Ken ... well, Ken is in a bedroom with some red-haired woman ... I think he's too much for me."
Tom shrugged, "I think he's too much for me, too."
Tom was just calling a taxi when a man came wavering up, drink in hand. He offered to drive them into town. One look told Chris he was very drunk, but he was friendly ... and insistent. They got in the car but the man, as well-meaning as he was, couldn't even get it started so they had to go back to the house and call a taxi all over again.
They took a cab to Jackson Square and following a tip from the driver, ambled down into the old French market where the driver said the elite society people went for black chicory coffee and doughnuts after the Mardi Gras balls. By then it was five o'clock in the morning - all Chris saw were a few masked figures tottering around the half-empty tables. Tom took one look at the bleary scene and disjointedly commented that back at the house the man's car wouldn't start because the key wouldn't fit in the ignition. He had just realized it wasn't the man's car in the first place.
They wandered the two blocks down to the dock. It was an area of warehouses and Chris could smell trash burning. Huge freighters were tied to moorings with rope coils. Across the muddy, oil-slick water, about a mile away, low marsh was barely visible on the other side.
As they sat down on the dock piling, Chris was thinking how strange it was - Tom had been there all along and she had never noticed it! It was also peculiar, but nice, how Tom didn't seem the least surprised that she'd ended up with him. It was like he'd just assumed that all along.
"What are you doing?" she said as he began playing his guitar.
"I'm going to play my guitar ... the sun won't come up without it."
"Sure," Chris laughed.
She watched curiously as Tom fiddled with his guitar for a moment, then began playing. She watched a banana boat sloshing, like it was breathing in the water. The oily water turned gray, then yellow, as the sun came up on the eastern horizon.