In a brilliant satire on the intelligentsia of Great Britain between the two World Wars the famous English novelist, Aldous Huxley, once very succinctly observed, "The higher the brow, the lower the loins."
In other words, men and women with very refined tastes in music, literature, and the other arts often have very unrefined tastes where sex is concerned.
In the eye-opening new novel, The Foolish Virgin, Mr. Jon Reskind unsparingly explores the truth of this proposition as applied to the higher centers of American culture in the 1970's. What, exactly, goes on behind the ivied walls of our great universities and what kind of lives do the men who to a large extent shape the esthetic and moral values of our children actually lead themselves?
Jon Reskind, however, does not confine himself to the academic milieu. He ranges far afield, skipping with equal ease from the university scene in New England to the magnificent redwood forests of California where some of the most brilliant writers, painters and composers of America have congregated. These men are not teachers in the ordinary sense of the word. They are primarily creative artists who produce the poems and novels, paintings and music, which are later studied and analyzed in the classroom under the direction of qualified professors.
It used to be thought that creative geniuses who made startling break-throughs in the arts actually shaped the tastes and opinions of succeeding generations. Now, however, it is generally conceded that, being more sensitive and articulate than the average person, they merely reflect deep underground currents already in motion beneath the surface of apparently placid and stable societies.
Thus it might be claimed that when Picasso drew two eyes on the same side of a human face over fifty years ago, he was merely projecting onto canvas his personal vision of the anarchistic upheaval in human values which swept through the Twenties and Thirties and culminated in the Second World War.
Or, one could say that the American action painters of the early Fifties who turned their backs on every known discipline of their art and began to hurl fistfuls of raw paint at their canvases were merely expressing the violent tensions already existing between young and old, black and white, which did not manifest themselves overtly until the race riots and student rebellions of the Sixties.
Whatever one may think of the more avant-garde trends in contemporary art, be it in writing, painting, or music, one cannot deny the fact that they reflect, for good or bad, profound tendencies in our society. It is for this reason that we, The Publishers, are proud to present Jon Reskind's latest novel, The Foolish Virgin. Truly, he lets the chips fall where they may. Through the eyes of an idealistic young girl he not only lays bare the intimate thoughts and acts of the professors who teach her, he also gives us an incisive portrait of Randall Blake, world-famed novelist and poet, who, from his secluded home in northern California, rules an invisible empire of many impressionable young -minds throughout our land.
In one sense, Mr. Blake is not without his spiritual forefathers in history. From the beginning of time wealthy and powerful men who have only to snap their fingers to get what they want have gone to exorbitant lengths to vary the monotony of their pampered lives. We all know about the carefully planned excesses of the Neros, the Caligulas, the Borgias and so forth. Mr. Jon Reskind now gives us Randall Blake, a Twentieth Century American who will apparently go to any length to get his "kicks".
Is he typical of our times? Does he exemplify some suicidal tendency to destroy the moral values which made America great? Or, on the contrary, does he represent a healthy return to the robust independent individual who follows his own mind, heedless of society's outmoded strictures?
We, The Publishers, do not presume to answer these questions. We recommend only that the reader keep an open mind until he has turned the last page of this brilliant novel. Whatever the conclusion, we salute Mr. Reskind for the depth of his insight into the social upheaval now transforming America.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Susanna Long felt happier than she ever had in her life as she walked slowly across the dark deserted campus hand in hand with Richard Howell. A light spring rain was falling but they were both New Englanders, born and bred, and Susanna knew that Richard was enjoying the cool feathery touch of the rain's wetness on his face as much as she was. She tossed back her glistening honey-blonde hair and glanced adoringly up at his bony profile with its high-bridged aristocratic nose. By the light of a distant street lamp she saw that there was a faint smile on his thin sensitive lips.
They really shared so many things in common, she mused contentedly. They had the same tastes in literature and music, the same love of the tranquil secluded life to be found only on college campuses and, above all, the same sensible attitude toward sex. Richard, who was not only her fianc� but also one of her professors, understood her completely in that domain. Early in their relationship she had told him about the really stupid meaningless way she had lost her virginity ... in a car parked outside a fraternity house after a football dance. Since that time, she had always thought of herself as a foolish virgin . . . and he had sympathized wholeheartedly with the feeling of repugnance for sex that the disgusting incident had left her.
That feeling would pass with time, he had assured her. Meanwhile, there were other aspects of love to be explored. The union of two minds joined in perfect understanding was far more important than the physical coupling of two bodies. It was in this direction that he had delicately guided her, away from the physical side of love and into the realms of poetry, music and philosophy. Sex between them had been limited to innocent necking which she had firmly stopped whenever things seemed to be getting out of hand. He had never once complained and she was deeply grateful to him. They were to be married the following spring when she graduated and she was certain that by then she would be ready to be a proper wife for him.
"The only trouble with that move," Richard said abruptly, "is that it was deliberately obscure, arbitrarily brutal and totally meaningless. The director obviously subscribes to Artaud's theater-of-cruelty methods but it seems to me there are better ways of making an impression on the human brain."
He was referring to the Czechoslovakian film they had just seen and Susanna knew that he had been thinking about it, analyzing it and taking it apart in his mind, ever since they had left the theatre. What he had just expressed in his drawling, rather nasal Boston accent was his final considered opinion and it summed up very exactly and concisely her own vague, more emotional reaction to the movie. She squeezed his hand gratefully to let him know how much she agreed with him.
"Coming over for a drink?" he asked, smiling thinly down at her.
"Of course!" Susanna exclaimed, thinking it strange that he should ask her that on their last night together before next fall. They were both leaving the next day, she for Northampton, Massachusetts, where both her parents were professors, and Richard for Europe. Actually, the school term had ended the day before and most of the students had already left for home. Only a few solitary lights still blazed here and there in the dark silent dormitories. Susanna had stayed over on purpose to have this one last night with Richard. She squeezed his hand again and looked questioningly up at his pale smiling face.
"Well, that's good," Richard said after a short pause. "Because I have a little surprise for you."
"Oh, it came!" the young blonde girl cried joyfully. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Yes, IT came," her fianc� mocked her dryly.
"Oh, what's it like?" Susanna asked excitedly. IT was the latest volume of Randall Blake's poetry which had been sent to Richard to review and she had been waiting impatiently for it to arrive for weeks. She considered Randall Blake their poet, hers and Richard's, because he expressed so beautifully the spiritual values of love in which they both believed. She had actually met the great man once when she was still just a child, twelve years old, and had adored him in her memory ever since. She knew all his poems by heart and intended to write her Honor's thesis on them next year. "What's it like, Richard?" she repeated when the tall man at her side did not reply at once.
"I dunno. Haven't really had a chance to look at it yet," he drawled laconically.
"Liar!" Susanna laughed gaily up at him, realizing that he was teasing her. She linked her arm through his and began to pull him more rapidly along the wet gravel walk toward the two-story house on the edge of the campus where he lived with Tom Barton, another Associate Professor of Literature. Since the late sixties the college authorities had been quite lenient about such matters, permitting the students complete freedom as long as their marks were up to par and they were back in their dormitories by midnight. Susanna was sure all her friends thought she was sleeping with Richard when she visited him in his house, but she had never tried to set them straight because she knew they just wouldn't understand the true nature of the relationship.
"Really, Susanna," Richard protested a trifle irritably. "There's no hurry. . Actually, I've already written the review and you can take the book home with you."
"Oh, thank you, Richard!" Susanna did a little hop and skip beside him to express her joy and squeezed his arm tightly. "Is it good?" she asked anxiously. "As good as the first three volumes were?"
"Of course it's good," her fianc� assured her. "It's the best yet. I gave it a rave review."
They ran up the stairs to the covered porch of the old frame house where he lived just as the rain began to pelt down in earnest. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the black sky was briefly illuminated by sheet lightning.
"A real thunderstorm, no less," Richard murmured as he unlocked the front door and led the way toward the living room, flicking on lights. He took her raincoat and hung it in the hall along with his own. "At this point I should suggest that you spend the night."
"Oh, you know I have to be back in by midnight," Susanna reminded him. She entered the comfortably furnished living room, looking around to see if she could spot the precious new book of poetry.
"No, you don't," Richard corrected her curtly. "The term was over yesterday and technically you are now on summer vacation. You can do as you please."
"But I'm still living in the dormitory," the young blonde objected, a little startled by the sharpness of his manner.
"Your bags are there," he conceded. "But nothing says you have to be with them. What's the matter? Don't you trust me?" He swung around to face her with a challenging, almost angry expression on his long, pale face.
"Of course, I trust you, Richard," Susanna reproached him in a hurt tone of voice. "It's just that I know I have to be back in the dorm by twelve . . . Where's Randall's book?" she asked with a wheedling smile.
"Oh, yes, Randall's book." Frowning, the tall professor strode out of the room down the hall toward the kitchen.
Susanna crossed to the mirror over the fireplace mantle and began to fluff the raindrops from her tawny, honey-colored hair. She gave the impression of being just another pretty girl until one noticed her eyes. They were remarkably large and clear, of a brilliant iridescent blue which seemed to change shade with the slightest variation of light, ranging from luminous cobalt to a dark mysterious mauve.
These extraordinarily beautiful eyes brought out the perfect symmetry of her heart-shaped face. The forehead was broad and the cheekbones wide-set but the cheeks themselves narrowed sharply in piquant curves to a small firm chin. Her nose was straight and slender, with just the slightest suggestion of an upward tilt at the end, and her lips, when she was relaxed, were full and ripe, almost pouting. When unobserved, she moved with the lithe controlled grace of a highly trained dancer which, in fact, she was. She had been dancing since she was six years old and at the age of fourteen had been accepted as a scholarship student at New York's most prestigious school of ballet. After two months there she had decided she preferred a more normal life but had continued to dance for her own pleasure. The long hours of physical discipline showed in every unconscious movement she made. It was only when other people were around that she had a tendency to tighten up.
"I'm afraid we're all out of sherry," Richard announced as he strode back into the room. "I didn't want to buy another bottle just before leaving, so we'll just have to drink up Tom's Scotch. He left this morning, by the way." He darted a sharp glance at Susanna, who was watching him with a puzzled expression on her face. "He said he hoped you had a good summer and asked me to give you his love."
"Really?" Susanna replied absent-mindedly. "That was nice." She watched her fianc� pour two large shots of whiskey into the glasses and wondered what had suddenly gotten into him. He knew perfectly well that she never drank anything but a little sherry or an occasional glass of wine with dinner . . . Not since that awful night after the football dance. She was certain the boys had spiked the punch with something hard, otherwise ... Anyway, she'd been drunk when she was practically raped in the back of the car and had sworn never to touch alcohol again except in very moderate amounts.
"Yes," Richard went on blandly. "I do believe old Tom has a secret crush on you."
"Oh, Richard!" Susanna exclaimed as the light finally dawned on her. "I hardly know Tom. I've never even spoken to him when you weren't there. You're not jealous, are you?"
"No," the tall, bony professor sighed. "But I'm human. Here," he ordered, holding out one of the glasses to her. "Sit down and drink this. I mean it!"
Not wishing to offend him further until she found out what it was all about, Susanna took the glass and sipped timidly from it. The taste and odor of the alcohol immediately made her feel nauseous but Richard gulped down his drink and quickly poured himself another before coming over to sit down on the couch beside her. There was a film of sweat on his high pale forehead.
"Susanna," he said in a controlled tone of voice as if he was starting a lecture in one of his classes. "I've been patient with you, haven't I?"
"Of course, Richard. You've been wonderful," the young girl assured him warmly.
"I've known you for two years now . . . Two school years, anyway, and I've never once hurried you or tried to make you do anything you didn't want to. Have I?"
"No," Susanna responded like a good pupil who has learned her lesson well.
"Well..." Richard looked piercingly at her with his pale hazel eyes. "The time has come." He deepened his voice and let the last words hang portentously in the air.
"For what?" Susanna asked hesitantly, thinking that perhaps he was going to ask her to marry him now instead of waiting another year as they had planned.
"For you to sleep with me, dammit!" The tall professor jumped up and started to pace nervously back and forth in front of her, darting quick angry looks at her from under his sandy brows.
"But, Richaaarrrddd!" I can't!" Susanna wailed when the shock of what he had said wore off. It was the last thing in the world she had expected to hear. "I just caaannnn't!"
"Why not!" her fianc�e snapped. Abruptly he reached down and tightly circled her slender wrist with his long bony fingers. "Come on, Susanna!" he ordered in a compelling voice. "This farce has gone on long enough. We're going to the bedroom. It's for your own good, believe me!"
Susanna was so accustomed to trusting and obeying him that she let herself be pulled out into the hall and up the stairs to Richard's bedroom before she really knew what was happening. The tall professor snapped on a bedside light and looked at her with a triumphant expression on his pale face.
"All right," he said confidently. "Now undress me."
"Wh-wha-at?" the young girl stammered, looking dazedly around the rather small, simply furnished room where she had never been before. Everything was so neat, she noted . . . His hairbrush and comb, shaving things and a few toilet articles were arranged on the dresser with a kind of mathematical precision that was completely different from the colorful helter-skelter disorder that usually prevailed in her own room. She wondered if she could ever learn to keep house for him the way he would want it to be kept.
"I said, undress me," Richard repeated calmly. "It's high time you got over your abnormal fear of the male body and this is the best way to start. I know I haven't got the greatest physique in the world," he added smugly. "But everything functions adequately, you may rest assured on that point."
He slipped out of his sports jacket and pulled off his tie. "Now you do the rest," he directed her. "Start with the shoes. After all, if we're going to get married, it's better that you see what you're getting."
"But I've already seen you, Richard!" Susanna protested tearfully. "In a bathing suit!"
"You haven't seen all of me," he remarked pointedly.
"Oh, Richard!" she wailed despairingly. "I thought you understood!"
"I understand one thing quite clearly," the tall man lectured her sternly. "If something causes you pain, you naturally fear it. But if something gives you pleasure, you like it. Your single experience with the male sexual organ caused you both pain and shame. Tonight," he summed up complacently, "I'm going to give you pleasure and you'll see how quickly your attitude will change. Now take off my shoes."
Susanna wanted to turn and run out of his house, back to the innocent warmth of her own untidy room, but instead she obediently knelt and began to fumble with the laces of her fianc�'s shoes. Richard had always been right in his judgments on poetry and movies and things like that, she reasoned to herself, so maybe he was right about this, too. She certainly felt strange, kneeling at his feet like a slave. A weird, unnatural excitement gripped her as she pulled off his shoes and looked up the whole length of his body at his pale face. There was an expression in his eyes she had never seen before. Gloating . . . almost sadistic.
"Now the pants," he ordered hoarsely.
Still on her knees, Susanna straightened up and with trembling hands unbuckled his belt which was on the same level as her eyes. A lurid thrill raced up and down her spine as she undid the top button of his pants, then reached inside his fly for the zipper. When she had pulled it halfway down, the pants fell to the floor, puddling around his skinny shanks, and she was staring at the huge bulge in his jockey shorts a few inches from her nose. Her nostrils quivered and dilated sharply as she caught her first heady whiff of aroused male genitals through the tightly stretched cloth. She looked beseechingly up at her fianc� but there was no sign of relenting on his bony face.
"Take 'em off!" he grunted coarsely.
God, he'd turned into a completely different person, Susanna thought miserably to herself. Nothing remained of the gentle, understanding Richard she had known and admired for two years. Still, she had to trust him . . . Revulsion, mixed with some other unfamiliar sensation, stirred deep in the pit of her stomach as she slipped the fingers of both hands under the elastic band of the shorts and very slowly, very reluctantly, pulled down . . .
"Ohhhh!" She jerked awkwardly back as his long sinewy penis streaked out toward her face with the speed of a striking snake. It twitched spasmodically as if it regretted not having caught her and the little eye in the dark-red bulbous head glittered evilly at her. It was still growing, she saw uneasily, stretching out to her in a hardening arc with the thick cape-like foreskin slipping back of its own accord as the mushrooming tip continued to expand. It was the first time she had actually ever seen an erect male penis because that time in the back of the car there had just been a lot of nervous fumbling in the dark, then sudden searing pain, and afterwards shame and remorse. Tears welled up into her large blue eyes as the memory of that awful night returned unbidden to her.
"What are you crying about, for godsake?" Richard asked her in an exasperated tone of voice. "There's nothing to cry about. It's just an ordinary cock like a billion others."
"I was th . . . thinking of that other time," the young blonde sobbed brokenly.
"Well, don't think about that other time," her fianc� ordered impatiently. "Think about this time. It won't be a sordid animalistic rape in the back of a car but a nice long civilized fuck!"
Susanna shivered as he deliberately emphasized the obscene word and in spite of herself she felt a responding flash of lewd excitement. She stared wonderingly up at him. He'd never used words like that in her presence before and somehow she'd never dreamed he would. This was a completely new side of him which she'd never suspected. Her gaze dropped back to his long rigid penis which was now ramrod stiff, jutting out from its growth of sandy pubic hairs like a blunted lance. God, it looked so long! She was sure it would make her bleed again.
"Go ahead, touch it," Richard insisted. "It won't bite." He reached down and caught her hand before she could pull away, placing it tenderly on the wildly twitching shaft. Susanna felt a galvanic shock jolt through every nerve-end in her body at the first contact with his hard virility. He moved her hand up and down its turgid length and she could feel the ridges of muscle and swollen veins sliding smoothly beneath the silky skin. A strange dizzying sense of power stole over her and she tightened her grip on the lust-hardened rod of flesh, digging the sharp tips of her fingernails into the softer underside and stroking the loose foreskin all the way up until it completely covered the bulging cone-like head, then down again to the thick pulsating base buried in his wiry pubic hairs. When she accelerated the rhythmic movement of her hand up and down his feverishly throbbing member, Richard groaned through gritted teeth and pulled away.
"Okay," he panted in a hoarse voice. "Let's get our clothes off." He kicked away his pants and shorts, hastily unbuttoned his shirt and in no time towered nakedly above her, his bony hairless chest heaving rapidly as he stared greedily down at her. He reached down and drew her up to him, grinding his thin lips down against her fuller, softer ones, spearing his long pointed tongue deep into the sweet cavern of her mouth while with one hand he jerked impatiently at the zipper on the side of her skirt.
God, he's going to jam it and break it, Susanna thought distractedly to herself. It seemed hard to believe that the man now swirling his tongue passionately around hers was the same composed urbane individual who could lecture so wittily on the forms of chivalric poetry in the Middle Ages or other equally obscure subjects. He gave a little moan as she finally let him suck her own tongue up into his mouth ... as if she had made him a present of something sacred . . . and she could feel his long rock-hard penis burning into the soft flesh of her belly through the sheer fabric of her blouse. Finally she managed to disconnect her mouth from his and draw back.
"Here. Let me do it," she said, pushing his hand away from the zipper. With an outward show of calm she shed her skirt and blouse but as she stood in front of him naked except for bra and panties, she was trembling like a leaf inside. She hoped and prayed she could go through with it and not disappoint him but he was like a complete stranger to her now. The taste of Scotch in his mouth had almost completely killed the beginnings of erotic excitement she had felt when she held his penis in her hand.
"Come!" Richard urged her huskily, avidly drinking in her lithe beauty. She had the ideal ballerina's body ... a long, slender neck and graceful arms, high firm breasts and long narrow waist which flowered into shapely hips and beautifully rounded, tapering thighs. She looked to him as if she were poised to dance, just waiting for the music to begin.
"Come," he repeated, circling her silky-skinned waist with one arm and leading her to the bed. Impetuously, he ripped off all the top covers and laid her on the sheet which she could tell had just come from the laundry. She wondered vaguely how long he had been planning this little seduction scene and again the idea that he could occupy his fine intelligence with such basically unimportant matters amazed her!"
Abruptly, she decided that the best thing to do would be to get the disagreeable business over with as soon as possible. She wanted to have time to discuss Randall Blake's new volume of poetry with Richard before she had to go back to the dormitory. There were always lines she couldn't quite understand and her fianc�e explained them to her beautifully. Quickly she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, revealing the firm mounds of her exquisitely molded young breasts with their coral-tinted coronas and nipples contrasting alluringly with her creamy-white skin.
Richard gave another little moan of delight and sprawled headlong on top of her, sucking frantically at her nearest breast, pulling and nipping at it with the sharp edges of his teeth. After a moment one of his large bony hands cupped her other breast and he began to roll the wrinkled little nipple back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it gently from time to time. His long hard penis was throbbing hotly against her thigh now and she could feel a sticky wetness oozing from the end of it down between her legs. She realized it must be the lubricating fluid men produced to ease their entry into the vaginas of their mates.
In spite of her expectations Susanna again felt a feathery flutter of sensation deep in her loins, as if a tiny bird was trapped somewhere inside her and she could feel the soft beating of his satiny wings as he tried to take flight.
Fly, little bird, she commanded mentally. Fly away with me! She was just beginning to believe it was possible to really enjoy the experience of sex when Richard raised his head from her breast and gloated down at her.
"You see!" he exclaimed as if he was congratulating her on passing a difficult exam with high marks. "You're enjoying it. The nipples of your breasts are all hard. That's an unmistakable sign. You are enjoying it, aren't you, Susanna?"
The young girl nodded silently up at him. The reek of alcohol on his breath immediately snuffed out the life of the little bird fluttering in the pit of her stomach and she stared dully up at the old-fashioned plaster molding that ran around the ceiling as Richard pulled off her panties. Now we go on to step number two of lesson number one, she mused drearily to herself. She made no effort to resist when her fianc� spread her slim, smoothly muscled legs ... Then she felt him parting the soft down of her golden pubic curls and could literally feel his eyes swarming greedily up and down the moistly glistening pink flesh of her vaginal furrow. She had all she could do to keep from heaving an audible sigh. Richard was thirty-two years old but he was behaving like an adolescent boy who had just read a sex manual. One moment he was impulsive and over-excited and the next he apparently remembered something he had read and decided to do it.
She felt the end of his bony middle finger slide in between the uneven, sparsely-haired lips of her exposed cunt and begin to mechanically palp the withered little bud of her lifeless clitoris. The alien contact sent a brief flurry of sparks through her groin but her immediate thought was that she could do it a lot better herself.
"Do you like that?" the tall professor asked, grinning complacently down at her as if he was rendering her the greatest service in the world.
"Hmmmmmmmm," Susanna lied, closing her eyes so that she wouldn't have to meet his knowing stare. His extended finger dipped into her contracted vagina, then returned to circling and awkwardly rubbing her irritated clitoris.
"A little more and you'll be ready," he said judiciously. He placed her hand around the rigidly throbbing base of his cock again, indicating that he wanted her to caress it. How idiotic, Susanna thought, the two of us lying here, artificially stimulating each other, masturbating each other . . . This certainly couldn't be the way to prepare for the supreme act of love, if that was what it really was. She began to slide the soft skin up and down the rock-hard shaft of his penis more rapidly, giving the lust-swollen head a little jerk and squeeze at the end of each upward stroke. Almost at once she felt his pelvis grinding hard to meet the downstroke so that her hand smacked audibly against the flesh beneath his pubic hairs before pumping upward again. All of a sudden he was scrambling wildly on top of her, prodding furiously at her tightly contracted vaginal opening with the bulbous rubbery head of his straining cock.
"Christ, I can't wait any longer!" he gasped. "I gotta fuck you now. Put it in, for Chrissake."
His alcoholic breath, the unexpectedly crude words and the mercilessly selfish battering of her unprotected genitals by a lunging rock-hard penis abruptly propelled Susanna three years backward in time. She was in the parked car again, with a boy whose name she didn't even know, and he was crazily ramming his stiffened penis into the wet pink-slit of her cunt, babbling "I gotta fuck ya, I gotta fuck ya" over and over. . .
But this time it wasn't going to happen!
Her lithe strong dancer's legs scissored shut and Richard's jabbing member slid harmlessly up through her tangled pubic hairs onto her belly.
"Nooooo!" she shouted fiercely as he tried to squirm his frustrated cock back down between her tightly clenched thighs, fighting like a madman to reach the mouth of the juicy pink passage she was denying him. She reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of his sandy hair, trying to yank him off her breast, but he merely clung harder to her and continued to pump his rigidly burning rod into the soft flesh of her belly as if he would slash her open and enter her that way.
"Ohhhhhhhh, Chriiiiiiiiist!" the lust-crazed professor groaned suddenly and Susanna felt his frantically jerking cock expand still farther and a hot sticky fluid spurted up- between their sweating bodies, drenching her stomach, splattering against her breasts and trickling down her sides. His lanky bony frame collapsed on top of her for a moment as his chest continued to heave with gasps of spent passion. Then he pushed himself up off of her and glared down with angry bloodshot eyes.
"Bitch!" he spat out viciously. "Get out of here! I never want to see you again."
* * *
Susanna walked slowly along the gravel path back toward her dark silent dormitory. She had forgotten her raincoat and giant drops of rain blown down from the limbs of trees by gusts of wind rapidly soaked her to the skin but she didn't mind. She felt that she would never be clean again. Richard hadn't even let her wash off his lewd, sickeningly sticky sperm before he threw her out of the house. She was certain she would never understand how he had been able to so completely mislead and deceive her about his true character for so long.
In a few minutes her whole future had been blown to smithereens. Instead of a happy, secure marriage based on mutual respect and common interests to look forward to, now she had just one more nightmare to live with. All the good times she had shared with Richard during the two years of their relationship, all the treasured memories, had been treacherously turned to filth. False! It had all been false and all he had wanted was her body. The only truly decent thing she had gotten from him, she mused bitterly, was the slim mud-stained volume which she now held tightly clutched in her hand. He had hurled it after her in a paroxysm of rage as she went down his porch steps.
"What!" he had screamed at her when she asked him to give her Randall Blake's latest book of poetry. "You have the balls to ask me for something after what you just did to me! Okay! Take the fucking book! Why don't you go out to California and see the fucking fag. Maybe he can help you. I sure as hell can't!"
The fucking fag!
That was what Richard had called Randall Blake, the great poet whom he had pretended to admire and revere all these years. He had screamed it again as she hurried away down the street.
"Go see that fucking fag poet and tell him his crap gives me a pain in the ass!"
Richard, Richard, how could you do it? Susanna dazedly asked herself. Sobbing brokenheartedly, she turned into the darkened entry of her dormitory and climbed the weary flights to her lonesome room. She had barely the strength to drag herself down to the shower room and clean her polluted body. Then she set the alarm for early in the morning and crawled into bed. Every bone in her body felt sore and bruised but just before she drifted off into exhausted sleep she remembered how she had danced for Randall Blake when she was eleven years old. The great poet had given a lecture at the college where her parents were teaching and afterwards visited them in their home. Dressed in a little white tutu skirt, she had danced for him while her mother played the piano.
"My dear child," he had said in the deep resonant voice which still echoed in her heart. "You dance like an exquisite bird in the flight of the mind!"
She had never understood exactly what he meant by that, any more than she understood some of his poems, but the words meant more to her than anything else in the world.
"Randall, Randall," she murmured drowsily to herself. "I will go to see you. I will, I will, I will!"
Immediately she felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her soul and she saw herself in her mind's eye, a tiny figure in a white skirt, leaping, pirouetting, soaring higher higher . ..
CHAPTER TWO
"Jesus Christ, here's another one!" Randall Blake, well-known author of best-selling novels and occasional poet, growled disgustedly as he tossed a half-read letter onto the low coffee table in front of him. His deeply tanned, ruggedly handsome face expressed extreme irritation as he stared moodily down at the lush green valley surrounded by giant redwoods that fanned out below the terrace of his isolated home high in the mountains above Cape Mendocino, California.
"She says she'd do anything in the world to be able to sit at my feet for an hour," he went on morosely, jamming his hands down into the faded old suntan pants he was wearing. "Anything in the world, except fuck of course."
"Now, now, Randall," Hedy Kramer, his exotic-looking raven-haired mistress smilingly soothed him. "You can't be sure of that just from glancing at the poor girl's letter."
"The hell I can't," Randall grunted. His thick bushy brows which were jet black in sharp contrast to his shaggy thatch of iron-gray hair furrowed in an irascible scowl. "How many millions of these silly gushy goddamn letters do you think I've gotten in the last twenty years and how many thousands of these dreamy-eyed bird-brained bitches with their little ink-stained fingers do you think I've actually talked to in my life?"
"Millions? Thousands?" Hedy queried maliciously. "Remember, darling, you're only forty-nine."
"Forty-eight," the famous author corrected her, leaning forward to take a tall iced drink from the coffee table and downing what was left of it in one long swig.
"Forty-eight is the figure we release to the admiring public," the third person on the terrace concurred in a drawling, slightly affected voice. "Fifty is the actual figure."
Tony Calderon was a squat swarthy immensely hairy man. Curly black hairs burst out between the buttons of his pearl-white shirt, swarmed over his burly forearms and covered the tendons on the backs of his blunt muscular hands. His cheekbones were high and broad, his liquid black eyes slightly slanted, suggesting a mixture of many races, and in general his facial expression was stolid and impassive. In short, he looked more like a Mexican field hand than what he actually was--the Harvard-educated, highly paid secretary of one of the world's most renowned and popular novelists.
"Balls!" Randall Blake snorted. "A man is as young as he feels." He reached out for the letter again, his deep virile voice rising to a high imitative falsetto as he read from it.
"Oh, Mr. Blake! I think your love poems are the most divine sublime things I've ever read. They've really changed my whole life. I used to have horrible, tormented dreams almost every night. I woke up feeling awful every morning and just had to drag myself through the day. Each new day dawns fresh and glorious. Love can make life beautiful and mysterious, just as you say ..."
"Love!" he sneered, shifting back to his normal voice. "If I pinched one of her little titties, she'd squeal so loud you could hear her in Honolulu. Fix me another drink, will you baby?" he added, holding his empty glass out to Hedy. "That letter depresses the shit out of me. It makes me wish I'd never written the fucking poems."
"You're drinking too much," Hedy admonished him in her low contralto voice as she stood up to take his glass. She was a tall, deceptively slender looking girl of twenty-eight who moved with the feline grace of a panther. Covered only by the scantiest of bikinis, her shapely rounded buttocks were strikingly emphasized by the slenderness of her waist and her long slim legs which tapered smoothly into dainty ankles. Although both Randall and Tony had known her intimately for over three years, their eyes automatically shifted to follow the alluring sway of her hips as she walked to the nearby bar on wheels. Every step she took suggested the vibrant sexual power sleeping in her loins. When she turned in profile, their eyes focused on her full thrusting breasts which swelled out above and below the ridiculous little wisp of bikini bra she was wearing, rather than on the pure classical beauty of her delicately sculpted face.
"And," the raven-haired girl went on, "the reason you're drinking too much is that you're not writing. I think you need inspiration. What's this girl's name?" she asked as she sloshed a healthy shot of Scotch into Randall's glass, adding ice with a brief squirt of soda.
"Susanna Long," Randall answered gloomily. A stubborn look came over his craggy face and he began to absent-mindedly tap the pockets of his old suntans for a pack of cigarettes. Then he remembered that he'd stopped smoking again.
"She sounds sexy," Hedy pursued with inscrutable feminine logic. "I bet she diddled her little clit every night with one of your, quote, slim elegantly bound volumes of erotic poetry, unquote. I bet the backs of all of them are stained dark with the juices of her passion."
"Oh, shaddap!" Randall's deep-set flint-gray eyes glinted with amusement as he took his fresh drink from the smiling dark haired girl who had been sharing his bed for three years. One of the things he liked most about Hedy was that there wasn't a jealous bone in her body. She didn't mind him occasionally having a different girl. On the contrary, she joined wholeheartedly in the fun and games.
"Well, I can tell you a few things," Tony Calderon said. He had put on a pair of dark heavy-framed glasses and was rapidly scanning the letter. "The margins are wide, so her nature is generous. Her writing slants first in one direction, then the other so she is unformed. She doesn't really know who she is yet."
"Or she's just a dumb hysterical cunt," Randall interposed sarcastically.
"Basically," Tony continued unhurriedly in his educated drawl, "she is open, warm-hearted and sensual, but she has had an unhappy affair which has soured her on the physical aspects of love. She is not a virgin, but she wishes she were."
"You see! You see!" Hedy chimed in triumphantly. "I told you she was sexy."
"Oh, for Chrissake, Tony," Randall growled. I know you're a goddamn genius, but would you mind telling me how you came up with that last little detail just by looking at her handwriting?"
"Very simple, my dear Maestro," the swarthy man replied blandly, passing the letter to his employer. "Look at all the letters that have rounded parts to them ... the b's, g's, d's and so forth. What do you see?"
"They're all round," Randall observed. "Except the o's."
"Exactly," Tony agreed. "One would expect the o's to be the roundest of all, but as they are symbolic of her violated cunt, they are all squashed together. She wishes she had never been fucked."
"But she is basically sensual," Hedy put in gleefully. "Which is why she diddled her little clit every night with one of your slim, elegantly bound volumes of love poems."
"I wish you'd stop using that word 'diddle,' " Randall told her testily. "It happens to be one of my un-favorite words in the whole English language."
"Very interesting," Tony remarked with a sly wink at Hedy. "Three well-rounded d's ... "
"And don't start analyzing me, you bastard," Randall scowled at the younger man. "Anyhow, you're both wrong. I happen to personally know this particular little broad. Susanna Long!" He shuddered as if the mere memory caused him acute physical pain. "I once had to watch her dance classical ballet nonstop for about fifteen hours. Her doting parents thought she was a child prodigy. Jesus Christ, no wonder she has bad dreams."
"How old was she?" Hedy asked quickly.
"I dunno. Eleven . . . twelve, maybe."
"Did she have tits?" the raven-haired girl pursued tenaciously.
"No . . . Maybe ... I can't remember." Randall shrugged his husky shoulders vaguely.
"Boy, for a big-deal novelist, you sure are a sharp observer," the young brunette commented dryly.
"That's what he has me for," Tony put in. "I observe, and he gets paid for it."
"Yeah, yeah," Randal's rough-hewn features split suddenly in a charming grin that took ten years off his appearance as he gazed affectionately at both of them. "I remember now. She had a long pointy chin, thin lips that she compressed together as she bounced around like an old tennis ball with a hole in it, a button nose, squinty cross-eyes and mousy hair. That was about ten years ago when I was on a lecture tour of our famous eastern women's colleges. Her father, Professor Long, was a recognized authority on Shakespeare's third sonnet. Satisfied?" He beamed sarcastically at both of them and took another long swig of his Scotch and soda.
"Ten years can make a lot of difference at that age," Hedy reflected out loud. "She'd be twenty-one or twenty-two now."
"You know, Hedy," Tony said, getting up to fix himself another drink. "I've been observing Mr. Blake closely for almost six years now ..."
"Picking my brains, you mean, kiddo." Randall shot his secretary a wary glance because the younger man never referred to him as 'Mr. Blake' unless he was about to come up with something particularly insulting.
"And," Tony continued nonchalantly, "I've formed a certain theory about his relations with women. Mr. Randall Blake, the famous novelist--because of his wealth and connections with Hollywood and movie people the world over can have any hustling little broad he wants. And, believe me, before he met you--who are the exception to my theory--he had more of those little floozies than was good for him. But Randall Blake, the gifted poet known only to a small elite in English-speaking countries, has never been able to take to bed one of his adoring young female fans, like this Susanna Long.
"This cuts him to the quick. Deep in his heart, he considers his poetry more important than his novels, and he can't understand this lack of appreciation of his poetic gifts. He can't understand why these sweet innocent young things who want to sit at his feet all scream and run away as soon as he reached out with his sweaty trembling paws to grab their heaving little tits. After all, his poems are love poems, right? So what do they expect? I tell you, Hedy, he just can't understand it, and it's tearing him apart inside. That's why he hasn't been able to finish a book in over a year."
"So ..." Hedy smiled impishly at the hairy secretary, "to get the great man functioning properly again, we've got to get him laid by one of these literary pussycats. Right?"
"Right."
"Fuck you both," Randall grunted. He gazed pensively across the fertile green valley again in the direction of the Pacific. The great redwood trees were already casting long shadows toward the terrace. It was getting late, and he knew that now the distant ocean would be glittering like a sheet of blue metal in the slanting rays of the afternoon sun. Sometimes he regretted moving so far inland that he could no longer see the water, but there were just too goddamn many people out there along the coast . . .
Most of the time he was perfectly content. Hedy was more than enough woman for any man, and when life grew a little monotonous, there were neighbors living in private hidden valleys two, three, five miles away. Men like himself who preferred solitude to the hectic hustle and bustle of the cities. They exchanged informal parties where more or less anything went. Wives and mistresses were freely swapped when their was a mutual urge, so a change of cunt now and then was no problem. It was just that, month in and month out, the cunts were more or less the same . . .
Maybe Tony had a point. A bright new young face around the house for a while might be just what he needed to finish up his latest book. It was true that he had been in a bind for over a month. The end just wouldn't come ... He wondered what Susanna Long would look like now. He'd just made up that ridiculous description, of course, and actually she hadn't danced too badly for a kid. Vaguely, he remembered her as being sort of a cute little girl, very shy . . .
"Yeeeaaahhh," he drawled finally. "Well, just how do you propose getting me laid by one of these literary pussycats?"
"You're the novelist," Tony pointed out. "Now that I've pin-pointed the problem for you, dear sir, you ought to be able to figure something out."
"Well, he hasn't so far," Hedy remarked tartly. "This Susanna says she'll do anything just to sit at his feet for an hour, so why don't we just get her up here and play it by ear?"
"Actually, she doesn't use the expression 'sit at his feet,'" Tony said, tapping the letter. "That was just a bit of poetic license on Randall's part. What she really says is that she is writing her thesis on his poetry next year and would like to talk to him about it. She is flying out from Boston to visit cousins in San Francisco next week so she'll be in the region."
"Oh shit!" Hedy exclaimed indignantly. "That doesn't sound like love. She just wants to kill two birds with one stone."
"Wait a second," Randall said slowly, a look of intense concentration coming over his granite-like features. "Love doesn't have to enter into it. Obviously she likes my poetry in some corny way and thinks I'm an important member of the human race. So it she thought I was in danger, her natural reaction would be to try to help me, right? Unless she's completely full of shit, which she probably is," he added with a grimace of distaste.
"I see," Hedy sniggered sarcastically. "When Susanna arrives, you could be up on the roof about to jump. Tony and I will be down here wringing our hands, but we can't reason with you in your suicidal despair. So Susanna will call up to you and say, 'Oh, Randall, Randall, please don't jump!' And you will beat your chest and shout, 'yes, yes! Everybody hates me! I'm going to jump!' And she will cry, 'Randall, Randall, everybody doesn't hate you. I love you!' You're teetering on the very edge of the roof now, and you peer down at her with tears in your eyes and say in a broken voice, 'Will you fuck me?' 'Oh Randall, yessss!' she wails. So you retire to the bedroom for a pleasant half hour. How's that for a scenario?"
"Not bad," Randall grinned at her. "But it has one basic defect. It's selfish. It leaves out Tony. I'm the only one who gets to fuck her."
"That's right," Hedy admitted ruefully. "It leaves me out, too, for that matter. I might want a piece of the action if she's as beautiful and sexy as my intuition tells me she is."
"Sure," Randall leered at her. It was no secret to him that Hedy liked a taste of pussy herself every once in awhile, and he certainly didn't hold that against her. In fact, he highly approved. Being with another woman seemed to switch on some extra sexual circuit in her brain, and for about a week after she had sucked another cunt she would be so passionate and inventive with him he had all he could do to handle her. The memory of .some of the things she had done to him made his thick cock lurch yearningly against the faded fabric of his suntans, but he forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
"So if this Susanna isn't a real dog," he summed up, "we would all like to--ah--enjoy her visit, right?"
"Right!" Hedy and Tony chorused enthusiastically.
"Well," Randall said slowly. "The solution is simple. When Susanna arrives, Randall Blake will be mysteriously absent. In fact, unless she's a very good girl, Randall Blake won't show up at all during her visit."
"If you're not here, you're gonna have a hard time fucking her," Hedy giggled.
"Oh, I'll be here!" Randall exclaimed, "but I'll be somebody else. I'll be Randall Blake's secretary. .. and his cousin, which will explain the physical resemblance. She probably carries a picture of me around in a locket between her hot little tits."
"Yeah . .. So?" Hedy prompted. "Explain it to me, you stuck-up bastard."
"Aaaaah, would that be the evil scheming cousin?" Tony asked, with sudden comprehension lighting up his swarthy countenance. "The evil scheming cousin who is stealing Randall's money? Maybe holding him prisoner somewhere? Who will stop at nothing? Not even murder?"
"Right on!" Randall shouted boisterously. "I knew there was some reason I hired you, you sneaky sonuvabitch."
"And, duh..." All sign of intelligence abruptly left Tony's face. He scruffed his thick black hair down over his forehead, slumped his burly shoulders and let his mouth loll open stupidly. "And, duh, besides duh bad cousin, dere'll just be duh half-wit gardener who can't hardly speak English ..."
"Well, maybe chauffeur-gardener," Randall corrected. "You may have to meet Susanna at the bus station and drive her here. But you don't know where Randall is."
"Naw, I ain't seen duh boss in, uh, lemme see, uh . . . " Tony stammered dully.
Hedy leaped suddenly to her feet with a wicked gleam in her dark-brown eyes.
"Oh, how do you do, Miss Long," she trilled in an artificially stilted voice, extending a slender drooping hand to an imaginary visitor. "I'm Hedy Kramer, Mr. Blake's housekeeper... I hope you had a pleasant journey . . . No, I'm sorry, Mr. Blake isn't home right now. That is, Mr. Randall Blake isn't home, but his cousin who acts as his secretary is--Mr.. .. uh .. . Roger Blake."
"Fine, fine," Randall encouraged her. "Roger Blake it is."
"No, we don't know exactly when Mr. Randall will be back. He has this way of just disappearing for days at a time ..." Hedy let her voice trail of ambiguously, then asked, "How am I as the housekeeper?"
"Perfect, baby!" Randall enthused. "As soon as she hears that, she's gonna know something's fishy. Because if anyone ever didn't look like a housekeeper, it's you."
"So Susanna is gonna get suspicious and worried," Hedy continued, her dark eyes sparkling mischievously as the full implications of the plot unfolded in her mind. "Maybe she'll accidentally overhear something that will make her think that her beloved Randall is really in danger."
"That's right! That's right!" Randall applauded. "And she'll do anything to help him."
"Yeah . .. Maybe she'll even fuck duh dumb guy dat drives duh car," Tony sniggered. "Where shall we say that poor Randall has disappeared to, anyway?"
"Oh, we'll work it out, we'll work it out," Randall assured them expansively. "We've got plenty of time. She's flying in next week? Write her a letter and ask her to come out Saturday after next. I'll give Toyo and Delores the weekend off, so there'll be just the three of us here."
"I hope it works," Hedy said with mock wistfulness. "Sometimes I get awfully lonesome being the only woman around here. I can't really confide in Dolores; she's too old."
"And fat," Randall added knowingly. Out of the blue, another detail of the plot flashed into his mind. Christ, if things worked out right, he could be lying right in the bed next to Hedy when she went to work on Susanna. The idea suddenly made him feel horny as hell. He yawned and stretched elaborately.
"All this brain work has me worn out," he said casually with a glance at his mistress. "I think I'll take a little nap before dinner."
Both Tony and Hedy broke out laughing simultaneously. "Brother," Hedy groaned. "If you can't act any better than that, our little scenario is gonna fall flat as a pancake." She got up and ruffled his wiry iron-gray hair affectionately. "Come on, Barrymore, let's go take a little nap together, huh?"
"I'll type out that letter and leave it on the desk for you to sign, Randall," Tony said. "And if you don't need me for anything else, I've got a date to play chess with the Widow Morrison tonight."
"For Chrissake, be careful with those rich fucking widows," Randall complained irritably. "One of 'em's gonna turn you into an overnight millionaire, and I'll have to break in a new secretary."
"Not to worry," Tony laughed cheerfully. "We actually do play chess, you know. She'd be quite good if she could only keep her mind on the game.
"Yeah . .. if," Randall grumbled.
* * *
A dim mellow light filtered through the four pairs of door-length shutters that shielded Randall's spacious but simply furnished bedroom from the hot California sun. Still dressed in his faded suntans which dated from World War Two, the famous author lay spread-eagled on his back on his king-sized bed, staring absent-mindedly up at the ceiling. His thoughts were far away ... at a famous women's college in Massachusetts, to be exact, and he was trying to remember whether the little girl leaping and whirling in front of him ten years before had been blonde or brunette.
He thought she had been blonde, but he couldn't be sure. He hoped she was blonde because with his highly developed visual sense he appreciated contrasts in colors. As Hedy's glossy hair was coal-black it would be preferable that Susanna's be golden blonde. In his mind's eye, he pictured the two girls lying belly to belly with their heads buried lasciviously between each other's legs, the silky blonde locks of the one tangling with the curly black pubic hairs of the other ... and vice versa.
"Hedy!" he roared as his hardening cock gave another painfully aching throb. "You're clean enough, goddamnit! Come out here!"
The sound of the shower in the adjoining bathroom abruptly stopped, and in a moment Hedy appeared, naked except for the white towel wrapped turban-like around her head. She stood in the doorway, smiling teasingly at him as he stared hungrily across the room at her. The twin white streaks left by her bikini across her chest and pelvis emphasized the proud thrust of her deep full breasts and the flowering curve of her shapely hips centered by the alluring black vee of fleece-like curls covering her mound of Venus. Randall never ceased to marvel at the way she could appear as slender and willowy as a child sometimes while she was obviously the essence of the fully developed sensual female. He licked his lips and said thickly.
"C'mere, for Chrissake. Whaddya mean by washing away all your natural juices?"
"Clean enough for what?" she asked him innocently, going back to what he had said before. "What am I clean enough for?"
"Clean enough to eat," Randall grunted hoarsely.
"Uh-uh." She shook her head, lewdly stroking the tempting black triangle between her thighs. "I'm saving this for Susanna. You dirty old man," she added, nodding at the tent-like bulge in the crotch of his pants. "You've been thinking about her, too."
"Bah!" Randall snorted. "Susanna is probably a frigid, tit-less, hatchet-faced soccer player. She's probably captain of the team and thinks kicking a leather ball between two posts is the biggest deal in life."
"You've got a point there," Hedy admitted, advancing sinuously across the room. "Besides, I think you deserve a little reward for coming up with such a brilliant idea. If it doesn't work with Susanna, we can always try it on one of these other pussycats who want to sit at the great man's feet, huh? Now you just relax, great man, and let little Hedy do the rest. I wasn't named Hedy for nothing, you know."
"For sure, for sure," Randall breathed contentedly. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the cool sheet, feeling her soft fingers pluck off his sandals, unbutton his shirt and then begin to tug at his belt. By God, he mused, there was no better way in the whole fucking world to spend a late summer afternoon than to just lie spread out on a comfortable bed and have some beautiful broad suck you off. He couldn't begin to remember the number of times Hedy had slaved over his cock and balls . . . Sometimes the physical sensation was stronger than others, but the deep inner thrill was always there .. . Always just as powerful. The thrill of conquest and power and the knowledge that this beautiful girl really enjoyed sucking his thick hard penis deep into her throat. Christ, she actually came in her cunt when he came in her mouth. Her stomach swelled out exactly as if he had shot his load of hot cum deep up her vagina, her buttocks jerked and quivered ... It was an impression he could never quite get over.
"Ooooohhh," Hedy purred contentedly as she finally managed to pull down the stubborn zipper of Randall's old pants, and his thick swollen cock sprang up in a stiffened arc toward her waiting mouth. She certainly had the old bear well-trained, she chuckled inwardly to herself. He couldn't wait for her to start sucking him: Of course it was the last thing she would ever admit to Randall but she was secretly flattered every time she saw his thick hard physical proof of his undiminished desire for her. The first time she'd gone to bed with the famous man, she'd thought it would be just another one-night stand ... he had the reputation for fucking girls like a madman all night long, then never seeing them again.
She'd thought it would be that way with her, but she didn't care. She just wanted to give a night's pleasure for the man who had given her so much pleasure through his novels. At that time she hadn't even known that he also wrote poetry. Anyway, she'd had no ulterior designs on him, and maybe that's why they'd struck it off so well. Three years now, and she knew and loved every little vein and ridge on the surface of the long thick hard penis that was straining so potently up to her. Already there was a little drop of semen glittering in the tiny gaping slit at the end of the swollen purplish head.
"Lift up, Randall," she whispered excitedly, pricking him lightly with her sharp lacquered nails just where the dense growth of wiry pubic hairs began on his lower stomach. When he arched his buttocks up off the bed, she quickly pulled down his faded pants, revealing the sturdy sinewy legs that showed no sign at all of fifty years' wear and tear. In fact, neither Tony nor she could keep up with Randall when he took them hiking in the mountains behind the house. He didn't seem to have lost any of his youthful vigor ... In more ways than one, she added to herself, eagerly eyeing the large sperm-bloated balls that sagged heavily down onto the sheet beneath the rigidly throbbing shaft of his cudgel-like penis.
Hurriedly, she yanked his pants all the way off and climbed up on the bed to haunch down on all fours between his strong muscular thighs. Tenderly, she scooped one hand under the crinkled sac of his balls and began to gently knead them together while with the thumb and forefinger of her other hand she stroked the loose foreskin up and down the still-expanding girth of his rock-hard shaft of flesh.
As if drawn by a magnet, her open mouth sank closer and closer to the bulbous pulsating cock-head with its inviting little gift of sperm glistening in the end. The pungent virile smell of Randall's genitals filled her flaring nostrils and suddenly she could hold back no longer. Her moist pink tongue speared out and avidly sucked in the droplet of cum welling up in the end-slit. Her whole sensually vibrant body quivered deliciously at the first tangy taste of the heated flood of sperm she knew would soon follow. Her full lips instinctively ovalled in anticipation, and her head sank slowly down toward his potent hardness.
Randall's breath caught in his throat, and in spite of himself his fevered loins jerked up convulsively when he felt Hedy's warm wet mouth finally close softly around his frantically throbbing cock-head. Christ, it was always that first mind-blowing pressure of her moist warm lips around the sensitive blood-swollen tip of his penis that started him racing up the trail he had traveled so often but which was never exactly the same. He grunted with pleasure as he felt the whole bulging end of his aching rod slip smoothly all the way inside the velvety welcoming cavity of her mouth. It was like going home.
From long experience, Hedy knew exactly what would excite her virile lover the most. She began swirling her slick pointed tongue maddeningly around the tender underside of his jerking member, darting it into the delicate cleft where the foreskin began and licking up all the moistly seeping stickiness from the end with nerve-tingling little swipes of her agile organ.
Randall groaned and his eyes flew open. He had to watch this! Blindly he grabbed a pillow from behind him and wadded it under his neck. Just the sight of the end of his thick cock sunk between Hedy's tautly ovalled lips seemed to multiply the erotic sensation a thousand times, and she hadn't even really gotten down to business yet. He could feel this was going to be a real blast. . . One of those rare times that stood out in memory long after most of the others had blended together.
The idea that at last he might get to fuck one of those tight-assed young bitches who were always simpering over his poetry but would never spread their legs for him had really made him hot. In his mind's eye he substituted honey-blonde tresses for Hedy's raven-black hair and a frightened school-girlish face for the brunette's older, more sophisticated features . .. Yeah! He rammed brutally upward, driving half of his thick rigid shaft into the startled mouth hovering over his loins. Yeah! He'd fuck this Susanna Long in the face first!
It would make up for all the lonely nights he'd spent by himself in motel rooms after reading his poems in lecture halls filled with hundreds of cunts. Hundreds! Christ, sometimes there were thousands! Driving toward one of those fucking girl's colleges you could begin to smell cunt fifteen miles away and walking across the campus to wherever you were going to read was like walking right into an enormous sexy-smelling pussy. You could practically taste it in the air. But never once had he been able to get one of those clean-scrubbed little bitches who were always milling around him into the sack. Never once! But this time it was going to be different. Yeah!
He lunged vengefully upward again, but this time Hedy was prepared. His stiffly swollen rod slid smoothly between her moist, lewdly stretched lips deep into the warm sheathing softness of her throat. When she drew her mouth slowly back up the glistening distended length of his cock, Randall felt the sharp edges of her small white teeth gently scraping its tumid underside, milking more sperm toward the little hole at the end which she sucked gluttonously, making an obscene slurping noise with her tongue. A jolt of pure erotic energy exploded somewhere deep in his body, causing his loins to buck so violently that his cock popped out of her mouth with the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle.
With an anguished little moan, Hedy trapped the thick base of the rigidly twitching member in her slender hand and plummeted her hungry mouth down over the pulsing blood-swollen head again, reveling in the renewed contact, lashing it furiously with her darting tongue as if to punish it for its momentary desertion. Then suddenly, she plunged her head fiercely down, taking almost all the wildly throbbing penis deep in her throat and began to suck steadily, swallowing more and more of Randall's hot virile hardness on each downward thrust as if she wanted to fill herself with it completely, to become one with it, to become cock herself.
Of their own accord, Randall's hips began a slow rhythmic upward grind to meet the noisily sucking mouth. His thick rigid rod of flesh glistened wetly with Hedy's saliva and he watched, fascinated as it disappeared farther and farther between her obscenely stretched lips on each upthrust. Christ! She really meant business this time! Her big luscious tits danced and jerked crazily under her bucking torso, and her entire naked sun-bronzed body was covered with a delicate sheen of female sweat as she labored to bring him to the supreme pinnacle of erotic pleasure.
And he was getting there! The muscles of his hard flat stomach tightened visibly as he began to saw his thick bulging cock faster and faster into the pliant softness of her warm willing mouth. She was swallowing almost all of the frenziedly throbbing shaft now. Only the massive base of it still showed, glistening wet and white through his dark pubic hairs, but still she kept on with her insatiable sucking as if she wanted to gorge herself once and for all on his hot blood-filled organ. Moist pink ridges pulled out from her clinging lips as she drew her mouth back up the iron-hard column, then compressed into thin lines as she pumped down again, and her hungry tongue never ceased its tireless explorations.
"Suck it, baby!" Randall groaned hoarsely, straining his head up off the pillow to see her better. He reached down and tangled one muscular hand in her disheveled hair to make sure she kept up the fantastic pace. "Jesus! Just keep sucking it like that!"
He was running up that familiar but ever-changing mountain trail by leaps and bounds now. His heart was pounding so hard he could hardly breathe, but he had to keep going. Like when he was a kid. He had to reach the top of the mountain before sunrise. Yeah! That was it! Before sunrise and already there was a rosy glow in the east, in his brain, in his whole body! His loins bucked up against Hedy's face so fast in the throes of his sensual delight that it was almost as if he really was running a race against time, pushing himself to the limits of his endurance, beyond the limits of his endurance. Sweat poured down his face, and he gulped in air like a man on the verge of collapse. Then, just when he thought he couldn't stand the agonizing suspense of the building orgasm a second longer, the flaming orb of the sun burst over the horizon of his brain, and he simultaneously reached the peak of his private mountain.
"Jeeeee-zzuuussss!" he groaned with a mind-blowing sense of release from the erotic tension as the boiling flood of his pent-up sperm burst from his overcharged cock into Hedy's eagerly gulping mouth. Spurt after endless spurt of the hot life-giving fluid geysered up from the depths of his loins that had never been plumbed before, and hard as she tried, Hedy couldn't swallow it all.
Randall collapsed backwards on the bed with a fading after-image of the black-haired girl's cheeks ballooning out and a trickle of viscous cum dribbling from a corner of her tautly cock-stretched mouth. Then he heard her moan and felt her naked sweat-drenched body begin to quiver and shake between his outstretched legs. She gave an explosive gasp, and he knew that she had reached her own orgasm. Her quaking belly swelled suddenly as if it really had been filled by the deluge of his heated cum, and she pumped her head frantically up and down on his slowly deflating penis in time to the shuddering spasms of her own climax.
Hedy continued to suck until she had swallowed the last drop of Randall's precious white fluid, then she crawled up beside him and laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder.
"Hmmmmm, that was nice," she murmured in his ear.
Randall reached one hand down between her legs and scooped his fingers up through the hot dripping valley of her still throbbing cunt. One by one he licked his fingers clean of her fragrant female cum juices with appreciative little smacks of his tongue.
"Yeah, it was nice," he agreed dreamily. "Did I ever tell you about the time when I was a kid--my father bet me a dollar I couldn't start out at midnight and climb this mountain we had in our backyard by the time the sun rose ..." His voice trailed off.
"Noooooo," Hedy purred drowsily.
"Well, I will sometime," the famous author promised the dark-haired beauty nestling on his shoulder. The last thought he had before drifting off to sleep was . .. Shit! Fifty years old and it was still getting better. Then he dreamed of a young girl with a flashing helmet of golden blonde hair and wide frightened blue eyes.
CHAPTER THREE
Susanna had to fight back the tears when she got off the bus at Eagle Junction, which was nothing more than a filling station and a dilapidated general store, and found that there was no one at all there to meet her. Naturally she hadn't expected the famous Randall Blake to come for her in person but he had promised to send someone.
It was such a let-down after all the trouble she'd gone to since that night in her empty dormitory when she'd resolved to visit the great poet. First, she'd had to get her cousins in San Francisco in invite her, then persuade her parents to let her go and earn the money for her fare, but worst of all had been actually writing to Randall Blake. She must have written a million letters before she finally screwed up her nerve to send one off at the last minute.
She opened her voluminous leather carry-all, drew out a wrinkled envelope and for the nth time that week re-read the disappointingly brief and stilted reply which had been waiting for her at her cousins' house when she arrived.
'Dear Susanna,' the letter began. 'I am indeed delighted by your interest in my poetry which, alas, is apparently less appreciated by the general public than my novels. Needless to say, I write the latter only to earn the money to have the leisure and peace of mind to write the former. It will, therefore, be with the greatest pleasure that I will receive you at my home to discuss your thesis on my poetry with you. Shall we say on Saturday, July 14th? I hope you will be able to stay over the weekend or perhaps longer.'
There followed detailed instructions on how to reach Eagle Junction by bus in case she didn't have a car at her disposal and the letter ended with a promise that unless she phoned to the contrary, someone would meet her at the bus stop on July 14th at three PM. There couldn't be any mistake about the time and date, so Mr. Blake must have forgotten, Susanna reasoned. As the time drew nearer for her to actually meet the famous poet, she had stopped referring to him in her mind as Randall. To tell the truth, she was scared stiff and had been worrying for weeks about the impression she would make on him.
Susanna's heart sank as she looked around her. The afternoon heat rose in glassy waves from asphalt highway and the only human being in sight was a fat man in the filling station office. He was tilted back in a swivel chair with his feet up on a battered roll-top desk and he looked like he was probably asleep. She was about to ask him if she could use his phone to call Mr. Blake when a squat swarthy man emerged from the Men's Restroom buttoning up his fly. He was dressed in dungarees and a white tee shirt which even at that distance she could tell was filthy. He grinned at her, still fumbling suggestively with the front of his pants, and jerked his head at her in a beckoning gesture.
With her full lips compressed in a prim line of disapproval, Susanna angrily shouldered her carry-all, picked up her light nylon suitcase which contained a week's change of clothing and marched off in the opposite direction toward the rundown general store. She was wearing a dark grey blouse somewhat soiled by her long bus ride and a wrinkled knee-length cream linen skirt. Between the straps of the carry-all was slung a linen jacket matching the skirt. That day she had parted her tawny honey-blonde hair in the middle, letting it coil around her slender swan-like neck. It wasn't the coolest or most attractive hair-style she could have chosen, but it was simple and she thought it would please Mr. Blake.
"Hello ..." she called out in a high uncertain voice as she entered the general store. The gloomy place seemed to be completely deserted except for a swarm of flies circling drearily around a strip of yellow sticky paper hanging down from a wire that traversed the large cluttered room. The paper was already half-covered with other flies, some already dead, some still buzzing frantically in their efforts to escape. Upstairs a clock chimed the quarter hour but there was no other sign of life.
In spite of the fact that it was mid-summer, an old-fashioned pot-bellied stove was still sitting right in the middle of the store where, Susanna supposed, it had been sitting for the last hundred years. She had the impression she had stepped into another century. One wall, behind a long counter, was lined with assorted canned goods. In front of the counter were open bins stocked with various kinds of grains and beans that she couldn't recognize. Miscellaneous farm instruments were stacked haphazardly against the opposite wall . . . hoes, rakes, shovels, axes . . . and everything was covered with a thick layer of dust.
"Hello . . . !" the young girl called out timidly again, looking toward a distant comer of the store where she could vaguely make out ascending stairs. Again there was no answer except the buzzing of the flies. If anyone was there, she decided, he must be stone deaf and she might as well go back and wake up the fat man in the filling station. Angrily, she swung around . . .
"Ohhhhhh!" she gasped, dropping her suitcase and taking a startled leap backwards.
The squat swarthy man who had made the obscene gesture to her was blocking the doorway. Because of the brilliant sunlight behind him she couldn't actually see his face but she recognized his menacing slump-shouldered silhouette. He began to move slowly toward her.
For one terrified instant Susanna considered turning and making a break for the distant stairs. But suppose no one was up there. Then she would really be trapped! Instinctively, she took another lithe step backwards to give herself room to dodge past the man if he tried to grab her.
"Uuuh ... Miss . . . uuuh .. . Long?"
The voice was low and guttural, almost bestial, but at the sound of her name Susanna could have wept with relief. Quickly, as the man moved closer to her, she tried to compose herself. He stooped to pick up her suitcase and his strong white teeth gleamed at her through the murky light.
"Misterrr Blake send me to getcha," he grunted. "I got duh car parked inna shade." He turned and headed for the door.
"Oh, thank you!" Susanna exclaimed, trying to make her voice casual and hurrying to catch up with him. "I was just going to telephone. I thought perhaps he'd forgotten."
"I'm suh--suh--sorrreeee," the stocky man stuttered. "I was inna can ... I mean, duh toilet, whenna bus come. I gotta go to duh . . . duh toilet a lot," he added apologetically.
"Oh, that's perfectly all right," Susanna assured him, blushing furiously nevertheless at this intimate detail. As they crossed the highway toward the filling station, she furtively studied the strange man's profile. His thick bushy black hair almost touched his beetling eyebrows, so that he seemed to have no forehead at all. His eyes were slanted, she noted, almost mongoloid and his general expression was totally moronic. The poor man was obviously retarded and wasn't really responsible for what he did. She felt ashamed of the way she had misinterpreted his meaning when he jerked his head at her coming out of the restroom, but God, any girl would have reacted the same way. And suppose Mr. Blake hadn't sent him, she added to herself, stealing a glance at his burly hair-covered forearms and powerful hands that swung ape-like almost to his knees. He looked like he was capable of anything!
They rounded the filling station where the fat man was lolling still asleep in his chair and approached a sleek little two-seater sports car parked under the shade of a redwood tree. The squat man tossed her suitcase carelessly into the space in back of the two bucket seats and climbed in behind the steering wheel. As an after-thought he reached over and pushed open the right-hand door. Sitting down beside him, Susanna noticed the thick black grime under his fingernails and the strong odor of male sweat he exuded. And his tee shirt really was filthy.
"Are you Mr. Blake's chauffeur?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm but actually she was getting nervous again. She couldn't really see the distinguished sensitive Randall Blake she had glimpsed as a child and grown to know and love through his poetry employing such an uncouth creature.
"Nan. I'm duh gard'ner," the swarthy man grunted. "Duh chauffeur, he quit." He sat there for a minute, staring at the dashboard with puzzled concentration as if trying to remember what to do next, then heaved himself out of the car. "Be right back," he muttered, heading toward the filling station.
The gardner! Well, that explained it, Susanna reproached herself for her suspicions. No doubt. Mr. Blake employed him out of pity. That would be perfectly consistent with the idea she had formed of the great poet. Reassured, she leaned back and looked around her. The countryside with its great stands of giant redwoods was truly beautiful and so utterly tranquil. She hadn't heard a single car pass along the highway since the bus had let her off. No wonder the fat man in the filling station could spend his days sleeping. The distant sound of a toilet flushing told her that her strange companion would soon be returning. She just hoped he could remember how to drive the car.
"Hadda go again," the ape-like man announced cheerfully as he clambered back behind the wheel. He grinned inanely at her with those strong white teeth that looked as if they were meant to tear bloody chunks of flesh from the still-warm carcasses of his prey and added, "I'm Tony."
He extended a grimy paw to Susanna who reluctantly shook it. "I'm duh gard'ner," he went on, evidently forgetting that he had already mentioned that fact. "Gotta green thumb, see." He jammed it under her nose proudly. "Duh boss don' lemme drive duh car much."
It took Susanna about two seconds to realize that the last statement wasn't as irrelevant as it seemed. Tony gunned the car backwards around the redwood tree, shifted forward, zoomed past the filling station and across the highway onto a narrow dirt road, making sixty miles an hour before she could catch her breath. The acceleration flattened her against the black leather upholstery of the bucket seat and the wind slashing through the side vents blurred her eyes. For awhile the road angled in a fairly straight line across a green meadow but then it swerved into a forest and began to zigzag up the mountainside in a series of one-hundred-and-eighty degree hairpin turns.
Susanna saw the first curve whipping toward her and shut her eyes. She didn't even have time to be scared. She just knew there was no way the madman at the wheel could hold the car on the road at that speed and resigned herself to dying. It seemed stupid, that was all, just when she was about to realize her dream of seeing Randall Blake again after all these years.
Tony Calderon hit the brakes at the last split-second, kicked the gutsy little Porsche around the curve in a neat four-wheel skid and poured on the gas. He was driving his own car up a road he knew like the palm of his hand and Randall had said to scare the shit out of the girl, so . . . Vroom! So far everything had gone exactly as planned. He had timed his exit from the rest room perfectly and, just as he had hoped, Susanna had crossed over to the store where old man Saunders was upstairs taking his afternoon siesta as usual. And brother, she had jumped three feet in the air when she saw him standing in the doorway.
About the ultimate success of the little scenario which he and Randall and Hedy had been polishing up for the past few days he wasn't so sure. He'd been so busy playing the role of the idiot ape-man that he hadn't had a chance to really examine the girl. Susanna was pretty enough, and had remarkable eyes, but seemed very awkward and uptight in the way she held herself and moved. Except that one time when he had frightened her in the store and she had leaped backwards .. .
When the road straightened out for a bit, running along the side of the mountain with a perpendicular cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other, he glanced over at her. She was sitting with both hands pressed against the dashboard, her face deathly white. Sit and suffer, little Miss Prim-and-Proper, he chuckled to himself. He hadn't missed the haughty way she had turned away when he beckoned to her at the gas station and it was obvious that she regarded Tony the dumb gardener with the utmost distaste. Who duh hell did she t'ink she was, huh? Tony Calderon, PhD from Harvard, was beginning to identify whole-heartedly with his role and couldn't wait to bring this stuck-up bitch down a few pegs. If everything went according to plan, she'd be begging him to fuck her before the night was over.
After another series of sharp curves they reached the turnoff to Randall's private valley and Tony pulled over to the side of the road.
"Gotta go again," he grunted.
Not quite believing she was still alive, Susanna heaved a deep sigh and opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the distant white facade of a large house blazing in the afternoon sun across a sweeping vista of green valley ringed with redwoods. It was just the sort of house she had always imagined Randall Blake would live in and the knowledge that soon she would be face to face with the great man again sent a thrill of nervous anticipation tingling through her body. Then she heard the lewd puddling sound of a man doing peepee in the bushes behind the car. It went on forever.
Tony came back, wiping his hands on his dungarees, and pointed across the valley. "Dat's duh house," he said.
When he climbed in behind the wheel, Susanna noticed he had forgotten to button up his pants. Before she could avert her eyes she caught a glimpse of dense black hairs curling around an expanse of heavily veined skin.
Quickly she jerked her head away and looked longingly toward the house. Tony smiled and eased the little Porsche into first. As the road from there on was fairly straight and in good repair, he managed to hit eighty before slowing for the last turn into the driveway.
* * *
Susanna was on the verge of tears again. She stared dumb-founded at the tall slender black-haired young woman who had greeted her when they finally reached the house after that insane ride. At first, when she had stepped shakily from the car and seen the beautiful brunette, Susanna had been certain she must be Randall's wife, but the other woman had introduced herself as Hedy Kramer, "the housekeeper" and said that she was sorry but Mr. Randall Blake wasn't at home just then.
"What do you mean, Mr. Blake isn't at home?" Susanna almost sobbed. "He invited me to come today."
"I know, Miss Long," Hedy replied politely. "But Mr. Randall is--uh--slightly eccentric. When he has an inspiration, he simply disappears. As an admirer of his poetry, I should think you could understand that."
"But when will he be back?" Susanna wailed hopelessly. "Where did he go?"
"We never know when he'll be back," Hedy explained evasively. "It depends on how long his inspiration lasts. Sometimes it's only a day or so. Sometimes longer. As for where he went, since none of the cars are missing, he's probably up there somewhere." She nodded toward the jagged mountain peaks soaring ominously into the sky behind the house. "That's where he usually goes. Sometimes," she added with a mournful undertone of bitterness in her low voice, "he stays up there for weeks without letting us know whether he's dead or alive. One of these days he won't come back at all. I just know it."
"Ohhhhh, Goddddd!" The impulsive cry of distress and frustration escaped Susanna before she could check it.
"I didn't mean to alarm you, Miss Long," Hedy said kindly, laying her hand comfortingly on the young blonde's arm. "I assure you Mr. Randall is still in excellent health and well able to look after himself. He left a note concerning you. He said that Tony should drive you back to San Francisco, if you wish, or that you could stay here until he returns."
"Really!" Susanna exclaimed joyfully. "Oh, that's wonderful! Of course, I'll stay!" A becoming flush tinged her heart-shaped face which was still pale from the hectic ride. What a choice! she thought to herself, glancing over at the gardener who was still waiting patiently by the car. Drive all the way to San Francisco with that crazy man, Goddd! Then her flush deepened as she again glimpsed the thick dangling tube of dark flesh through his open fly.
"Good!" Hedy approved wholeheartedly. "I've already prepared a room for you. Tony, take Miss Long's suitcase up to her room. Tony!" she snapped suddenly. "Button yourself up!"
"Huh?" A bewildered look passed across the swarthy man's moronic face, then he turned quickly away like a guilty schoolboy. "Sorry, Miss Hedy," he mumbled apologetically.
"Come, dear, I'll show you your room," Hedy suggested warmly. In a lower voice, as they crossed a cool tiled hall toward a curving staircase, she added. "Don't pay any attention to poor Tony. He doesn't know any better. I've suggested to Mr. Randall that we let him go but he won't hear of it. Of course, it's true that Tony would end up in an institution in no time at all."
Then why is he allowed to drive a car!
The question flashed like lightning through Susanna's mind but she immediately buried it under a reasonable explanation. The chauffeur had recently quit and probably there was no one else available. Miss Kramer had the house to look after . . . Though she certainly didn't look much like a housekeeper, the young blonde reflected, as she followed the lithe brunette's shapely figure up the curving Spanish stairs and along another hall. Suddenly, it occurred to her that the other woman was really Randall Blake's mistress. Of course! How could she have been so stupid! She felt a sense of shock because she had never associated Randall with physical love, then a violent twinge of jealousy which she immediately told herself was idiotic. A man as famous and charming as Randall was bound to have women around him all the time. She just wondered why they had gone to the trouble of concocting this "housekeeper" story. Did they think she was so young and innocent she would be shocked by the truth? It didn't make sense.
Hedy opened the door to a large airy room charmingly furnished with antique Spanish furniture. The bed was a huge old four-poster, its spiraled well-waxed columns gleaming darkly in the subdued light filtering through the door-length shutters which were a regular feature of the house. Through them Susanna could see that she had her own private little balcony, complete with boxes of bright red and white geraniums. Quickly, she crossed the room and pulled open the shutters. The spectacular view of the Sierra Nevada rising precipitously behind the house almost took her breath away.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "Simply beautiful. I've never seen anything like it before."
"I think you'll be comfortable here," Hedy smiled pleasantly. "Here is your bath. You'll probably want to freshen up before dinner." She opened another door, revealing a modern, completely equipped bathroom which was easily half-again as large as the small dormer-windowed room in the old New England house where Susanna had passed her childhood and most of her adolescence.
"I feel like a princess!" the young blonde exclaimed impulsively and the older raven-haired woman smiled warmly back at her. Just then Tony shambled in with a hang-dog look, deposited Susanna's suitcase on the bed and walked out without a word.
"He's ashamed, poor thing," Hedy said pityingly. "It's too bad he has this--uh -trouble because he's really marvelous with flowers. Did you notice the garden as you drove in?"
"Yes ..." Susanna replied vaguely. Again she was tempted to mention Tony's driving but decided against it. It was none of her business but one thing was absolutely certain. She would never get in an automobile with that maniac again. If Randall hadn't returned before she had to leave and if Miss Kramer couldn't drive her for some reason, well, then she would walk even if it took a whole day.
"What does Mr. Blake eat while he's up there?" she asked, glancing up at the beautiful but forbidding mountains outside her window.
"Oh, nuts and berries, roots, anything he can find," Hedy answered. "That is, when he remembers to eat. Sometimes he's so weak when he gets back here he can hardly walk. But there I go again," she added quickly. "I don't want to worry you. He'll be all right."
"Golly, I hope so!" Susanna breathed fervently. She suddenly felt like a small child, dwarfed by the majesty of those towering mountains. The idea that the great Randall Blake was wandering around up there somewhere in that immense wilderness, living off what nature provided while composing his divine poetry frightened her and made her feel very humble.
"We'll have cocktails on the terrace before dinner, about seven," Hedy said. "Mr. Roger will be there and you can discuss Mr. Randall's poetry with him."
"Mr. Roger..." Susanna repeated blankly.
"Yes, Mr. Roger Blake," Hedy explained smoothly. "Mr. Randall's cousin and secretary. Of course, it won't be the same as talking to Mr. Randall but I'm sure Mr. Roger will be able to give you some helpful suggestions for your thesis."
"Oh, I didn't know Randall... I mean, Mr. Blake, had a cousin," Susanna said.
"Oh, scads of them!" Hedy laughed. "But he's always been closest to Mr. Roger. They're about the same age and even look enough alike to be twins."
"Oh . . . How long has he been working for Mr. Blake?" Susanna asked curiously. Of course, she had read everything she could get her hands on about Randall but as he was very publicity-shy, she really knew very little about his private life. It had never occurred to her that he would have a secretary but now that she thought of it, she realized he would probably have to ... to do the tedious research work on the popular historical novels he wrote.
"Oh, only about a year," Hedy replied casually. "Mr. Roger had a--uh--business reverse. In fact, he lost all his money and Mr. Randall took him in. To earn his keep, Mr. Roger started to help with the business end of things, and now Mr. Randall says he doesn't know how he got along without him before. It's a very satisfactory relationship. Well, I'll leave you now, dear," Hedy finished graciously. "I have dinner to attend to. Don't forget. Drinks on the terrace at seven."
She quietly left the room, leaving Susanna staring pensively up at the savage mountain peaks that blazed with myriad colors as the sun sank slowly toward the Pacific.
CHAPTER FOUR
"I've had such a long day; I think I'll go to bed early if you don't mind," Susanna said in a voice that nearly cracked with the strain she was obviously under.
"Jush a li'l nightcap. Make ya sleep better," Randall Blake said, deliberately slurring his words and sloshing a large dollop of Remy Martin cognac into the uncomfortable young blonde's snifter. They were having after-dinner coffee and drinks on the terrace by candlelight, and he was having the time of his life playing the role of his drunken, oafish cousin Roger.
Roger, Randall reflected, was a truly delightful creation, and just by luck, this prissy little bitch Susanna was the perfect subject for the experiment he had planned with Tony and Hedy. He'd been making her squirm ever since she'd come out on the terrace for cocktails, first by pretending that he didn't know a word of his own poetry, then by systematically insulting the image of Randall Blake as a sexless esthete that she had built up in her mind. By God, he vowed sardonically to himself, before Susanna's visit was over there would be at least one little college cunt who knew what Randall Blake was really like!
"Lesh drink to poor old Randall!" Randall grinned glassy-eyed at Susanna. "Poor ol' Randall up there in the mountains, eatin' his roots and berries. After all, it's his booze."
He hoisted his glass sloppily, obliging the young girl to join him in the distasteful toast. "Awww, you kin do better'n that," he chided when she took only a small sip of the cognac. "Chug-a-lug!" he ordered, downing his drink in one noisy gulp.
"Chug-a-lug!" Susanna repeated grimly. Her cheeks crimsoned and tears sprang into her large blue eyes as the fiery amber liquid burned its way down her tender throat, but she gamely swallowed it all. "Now I really must go to bed," she said.
"I think we're all goin' to bed early t'night," Randall slurred, patting Hedy's knees familiarly and sliding his hand along her thigh toward her crotch. Hedy frowned fiercely and pushed his hand away ... but not before she was certain that Susanna had noticed the brazen gesture.
"Well, goodnight," Susanna said uncomfortably. She rose to her feet, lurching slightly, and walked unsteadily toward the house.
"Good night!" Randall and Hedy chorused after her, grinning knowingly at each other. Starting with strong vodka cocktails, then both white and red wine with dinner, and now the cognac, they had poured more liquor down the young girl's throat that evening than she'd probably drunk in her life before. She was obviously smashed out of her mind, which could only help their plan. While she was still well within earshot, Randall roared boisterously to Hedy--"Come on, babe! Let's have one more shot before we hit the sack, huh?" He noisily poured more cognac into their snifters, accidentally on purpose knocking Susanna's glass off the table with his elbow. "Oh, fuck!" he swore loudly. "The fuckin' glass."
Hedy's slender shoulders began to shake with silent laughter. "Ohhhh," she gasped finally. "Randall, you're overdoing it."
"Randall!" Randall sneered. "You mean that fuckin' creep up on the mountain eatin' his roots and berries. Don't mix us up, baby. I'm Roger and don't you forget it. I run things around this goddamn house."
"Shhhhh!" Hedy hushed him. "Can't you stop for a second?"--"Stop!" Randall bawled. "I don'wanna stop. I never really knew who I was until tonight. And you know what, baby? You know what you're gonna do tonight? You're gonna suck Roger Blake's big hard old cock like it was never sucked before."
"I am not!" Hedy hissed vehemently.
"You are too!" Randall snarled back at her. "Or I'll punch you right in the goddamn nose."
As they both collapsed helplessly into loud bawdy laughter, a white-clad figure drifted silently across the terrace and sat down in Susanna's vacated chair.
"Okay, you two," Tony Calderon said disgustedly. You can knock it off now. She's in her room with the door locked, and it sounds like she's pushing the chest of drawers up against it for good measure."
"Oooooohhh," Hedy wailed, pointing at Randall. "He won't stop. He can't stop!"
"Come on, Randall. You're overdoing it," Tony remonstrated the older man. "You've got the poor girl scared to death."
"I'm overdoing it!" Randall exclaimed with his habitually clipped pronunciation. "Tell me, my hairy friend, was it in the scenario for you to expose your penis to the poor girl?"
"No," Tony admitted. "The idea just came to me on the spur of the moment, but I thought it was rather clever. Completely in Tony-the-idiot-apeman's character."
"Ha!" Randall snorted. "And what about you?" he asked, turning toward Hedy. "Where did that bit about the roots and berries come from? Isn't that a bit outlandish? Our dear Susanna may be naive, but she's not a complete fool."
"Well, she believed it," Hedy defended herself. "It fit right in with the idea she has of you. The sexless other worldly poet who pays no attention to the lowly demands of the flesh."
"Anyway, I think the plan's going to work,"
Randall said optimistically. "Susanna obviously believes that cousin Roger and his mistress Hedy are swindling poor Randall at the very least. But she's got no proof. So if she doesn't sneak out of her room to listen when she hears loud voices arguing in the middle of the night, I'll . . . I'll go up on the mountain and eat roots and berries for a month. You've prepared the signal to let us know when she leaves her room?" he asked Tony.
"It's all set," the other man affirmed. "I just hope she doesn't pass out before you get started."
"Don't worry about that," Randall said confidently. "We'll manage to wake her up if she does."
"Hey," Hedy said, sniffing in the direction of the swarthy secretary. "You cheated. You took a bath."
"I couldn't stand myself any longer." Tony's strong white teeth glinted in the flickering candlelight. "But I'll roll around in the manure pile before I fuck her. Okay?" He waved good night to them and slipped silently into the house to take up his vigil in a room down the hall from Susanna's.
* * *
Susanna couldn't sleep. Her head whirled giddily from all the alcohol she had consumed and more than anything else in the world, she wished she could just close her eyes and blot out all the events of that horrible day . .. But her mind wouldn't let her. It kept piecing together and feverishly re-examining all the bits and shreds of information she had accumulated since getting off the bus at Eagle Junction, and each time she reached the same inescapable conclusion ... Randall Blake was in terrible danger!
But what could she do? She couldn't go to the police with her suspicions. They would just laugh at her. And if she just sat there and waited for Randall to return, it might be too late. He might never return. His horrible cousin Roger, who was stealing all his money, must obviously be planning to kill him sooner or later. Maybe at this very moment. Hadn't Hedy said that she was sure one day Randall wouldn't return from the mountains? Maybe this was the time. Still struggling with this impossible dilemma, the overwrought young girl was just drifting off into fitful sleep when a shrill piercing scream jerked her bolt upright in bed.
"Nooooo! Rogggeerrrr!"
There was a loud crash downstairs, then Susanna heard the rumble of a deep liquor-slurred voice. Obviously Roger was quarreling with Hedy. Quickly she slipped out of bed and pressed her ear to the door, but she couldn't make out what the vile creature was saying.
Stealthily, with pounding heart and trembling at her own boldness, she turned the key in the lock and opened the door. It had come up incidentally during dinner that Tony had his own quarters in one of the out-buildings, so she knew that she and Hedy and Roger were alone in the house. There was no reason why she shouldn't slip downstairs and listen to what they were saying. As an afterthought, she returned to the bed and slipped a blue cotton bathrobe over the simple white nightie she was wearing. If one of them surprised her, she would complain of a splitting headache and ask for some aspirin.
The hall was pitch dark, but as Susanna crept slowly down the curving Spanish stairs, holding tightly to the wrought iron railing, she saw a bright light coming from the large pleasant book-lined room which Hedy had told her was Randall Blake's study. The door was standing half-ajar, but neither Hedy nor the man she took to be Roger Blake was visible from where Susanna stood. She could tell they were still arguing about something, but they had lowered their voices.
Silently, the young blonde crossed the spacious hall on her bare feet and slid cautiously along the wall until she could peep into the study. The sight that met her eyes made her gasp so loud that if the awful man sitting there stripped stark naked hadn't started to shout again, she would surely have been discovered.
Forewarned by Tony of Susanna's descent, Randall and Hedy had gone into the next scene of their act. Randall was sitting sideways to the door on the edge of a low leather armchair with his muscular legs flung out as far as he could spread them, and his big thick erect penis protruding obscenely from the dense mat of his tangled pubic hairs. Hedy, also completely naked, was cowering down on all fours between his legs with make-believe tears in her eyes. One of Randall's powerful hands appeared to be tangled brutally in her satiny black hair, and he was growling fiercely.
"You're gonna suck it baby. You're gonna suck my big hard cock and love it."
"No, Roger," Hedy wailed piteously. "I can't! You know I can't! I've tried, and I just can't."
"Listen, you bitch!" Randall snarled viciously. "In the last eight months I've swindled that nutty cousin of mine out of fifty thousand dollars, and for that I think I deserve a little special reward. Now start sucking!"
"Oh, Roger! I'm afraid Randall will find out about the money!" Hedy exclaimed tearfully. "I think you should put it back."
"Don't worry, baby," Randall grated irritably with a hidden wink at Hedy. "If that dumb bastard finds out about the money, he'll end up dead at the bottom of a cliff somewhere. Now stop making excuses and start sucking my big hard cock!"
Susanna watched in fascinated horror as the sadistic brute cruelly pulled the whimpering young woman up by the hair until her face was just a fraction of an inch from the bulging purplish head of his rigidly twitching penis while with the other hand he pried open her mouth by digging his thumb into her cheek. Slowly, the heirless brunette's lips parted. The light in the study was so bright Susanna could see every minute detail of the ghastly scene . ,. every ridge and vein on the long hard throbbing shaft of the awful penis . . . even the viscous drop of semen glistening in the little slit at the end.
Finally with a low despairing moan from deep in her throat, Hedy apparently gave up the uneven struggle and opened her mouth wide. Little by little the bulbous blood-filled tip of the enormous iron-hard cock disappeared between her lewdly ovalled lips as the implacable man pushed her head downward. Susanna felt an intense wave of sympathy for the helpless older girl who was being forced to perform this revoltingly unnatural act, but at the same time, she felt a weird unaccustomed tingling in her own loins. Unconsciously she dropped her hand to her pubic mound and rubbed it impatiently through the cloth of her nightie to quell the unwanted sensation but rubbing only made the feeling stronger.
She caught her breath as the man in the study lunged upwards and the whole lust-swollen head of his gorged penis popped into Hedy's mouth, leaving just the white, heavily veined shaft protruding obscenely outside. God! It's so long, the young blonde thought, comparing it mentally with Richard's shorter thinner member. So thick and long! Was the vile creature going to try to ram it all the way down Hedy's throat? It just wasn't humanly possible.
"I said suck the goddamn thing," the awful man snarled. "Not chew on it."
Suddenly, without warning, Susanna felt a hard calloused hand clapped over her mouth and a brawny arm circled her waist, locking her hard against the squat burly body behind her.
Tony!
Susanna's first terrified impulse was to try to cry out for help, but she realized at once that if she made the slightest sound, the diabolical man in the study would know she had been out there and had heard what he said about the stolen money and Randall ending up at the bottom of a cliff. No, to help her beloved Randall, she had to keep quiet at all costs!
"You make any noise, I tell duh boss you spyin'." the swarthy gardener breathed into her ear.
Susanna nodded her head to show that she understood and immediately the heavy hand left her mouth, but it didn't travel far. The thick strong fingers stroked with unexpected gentleness down the long graceful curve of her neck then dipped under her nightie and cupped the warm naked mound of her left breast, skillfully kneading the softly resilient flesh and rolling the tiny hardening nipple maddeningly back and forth. The petrified young blonde gasped and tried futilely to squirm away as a thousand pin-pricks of unwanted excitement raced through her imprisoned body, but the heavy-set gardener held her buttocks clamped tightly against his pelvis with his other powerful arm'. She felt his hot breath in her ear, then his thick moist tongue swirled deep into the tiny orifice, sending another surge of erotic sensation through her overcharged nerve-ends.
God! What was happening to her, Susanna wondered dazedly. Why was her body responding that way to the crude brutish caresses of this disgusting idiot? But she knew! She knew only too well how treacherous her body could be after she had drunk too much. She felt a hardening pressure forcing itself between the cheeks of her buttocks, and the memory of the thick, lewdly dangling tube of flesh she had glimpsed that afternoon flashed into her mind. She fought down another almost hysterical urge to scream, then let herself slump limply against the ape-like creature who was holding her. There was nothing she could do but let him have his way with her, if she wanted to help Randall Blake.
Actually, in the brightly lit study, Randall was having a little trouble with his partner. Hedy was getting carried away by the hard tasty cock sawing in and out of her mouth and was forgetting her role. According to the pre-arranged scenario, she was supposed to pretend she couldn't swallow more than the very tip of his swollen rod, but Randall could tell she was getting so steamed up that she would go down on it all the way any minute now. The hot cum in his balls was boiling with the urge to let her go ahead and do it, but he gritted his teeth and kept control of himself.
"Relax, you dumb cunt!" he snarled savagely, hoping to snap her back to her role. He wound his hand more tightly into her long black hair, pretending to force her head back and forth in a sucking motion while in fact he was really restraining her.
Susanna watched Hedy's cheeks hollow and balloon as her mouth slid on and off the wetly glistening shaft and saw how tiny ridges of soft pink flesh were pulled obscenely out from her lips on the upstroke. The captive blonde wanted to close her eyes and shut out the salacious spectacle, but she couldn't. She watched as if hypnotized while the hairy gardener behind her continued to knead her breasts. From time to time he pinched the hard berry-like nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain lancing through her trembling body, then suddenly she felt the thick fingers of his other hand burn into the soft tender flesh of her inner thighs. Somehow he had opened her bathrobe and pulled up the skirt of her nightie without her even being aware of it.
"Noooo!" she hissed sibilantly, twisting back her face toward his so that she wouldn't be overheard. Instantly, his thick firm lips clamped down on hers, and his wet pulpy tongue speared into the depths of her mouth, causing her to shudder with a strange mixture of revulsion and growing excitement. It was as if the very helplessness of her predicament made the flashes of her erotic response to his animalistic ministrations that much more intense.
"Mmmmmm," she moaned deep in his mouth as the tip of one of his fingers found the narrow sensitive slit of her vagina and gently probed into it, thrusting aside the soft damp pubic curls lining her pussy lips. Her buttocks spasmodically jerked back against the pulsating hardness of his erect penis when his finger flicked the tiny throbbing head of her clitoris.
Randall, Randall, I love you!
The words glowed briefly in Susanna's darkening mind, then were submerged under the irresistible wave of pure animal lust that boiled up from her quivering loins as Tony began to rhythmically palp the moist slippery button of her clitoris. Susanna let her head loll limply back on the swarthy gardener's shoulder, and of its own volition her pelvis began to slowly grind forward against his pleasure-giving fingers.
"Goddamnit, you bit me, you bitch!"
There was a loud smack of flesh against flesh, and Susanna's glazed eyes flew open just in time to see Hedy falling backwards in the study with her hand to her face. The depraved man in there had obviously slapped her, and now he was standing up, glowering down at as if he wanted to strike her again.
"I didn't do it on purpose, Roger. I swear," Hedy quavered, inching fearfully away from the threatening man. "It's just that you're too big! I can't swallow all of you!"
"You did it on purpose!" her attacker accused wrathfully, massaging his still erect-and feverishly throbbing penis tenderly with one hand. "I've half a mind to go upstairs and see if little Susanna knows how to suck cock. She certainly couldn't be any worse at it than you are."
"Oh no, Roger. Please don't!" Hedy pleaded pitiably. "It will only make things worse. I'm afraid she's already suspicious about us."
"Balls!" the apparently angry man snorted contemptuously. "She'll just love my big hard cock in her mouth."
He laughed boisterously, gulped some brandy from an open bottle on the desk and started for the door, his tall muscular frame swaying unsteadily from side to side.
* * *
"Dis my room," Tony said with an expression of loutish pride on his moronic face. "Duh boss, he never t'ink tuh look for yuh here," he added complacently.
Susanna looked apprehensively around the small cubicle where she found herself. A half-moon shining directly through the window illumined its humble contents... a narrow sagging iron bed, a chest of drawers and a washbasin. On the floor by the washbasin she saw the dirty T-shirt and dungarees the gardener had been wearing when he picked her up that afternoon.
God! It seemed ages ago. When the man she believed to be Roger Blake had lurched toward the study door, she'd been so paralyzed with fear she probably would have just stood there and let him catch her if Tony hadn't pulled her away. They'd run out the back through the kitchen and across a vegetable garden to a three-car garage. This little room was above the garage. Tears welled into Susanna's large blue eyes, and with a hopeless little sob, she sat down on the edge of the bed. She knew the hairy gardener was going to rape her now, but she didn't know what he was going to do after he had satisfied himself with her body. Would he do what she wanted, or would he just turn her over to "duh boss"?
"I--it's a nice little room, Tony," the young blonde stammered, trying to put some enthusiasm in her voice. "And you keep it nice and clean. You want to make love to me now; don't you?"
"Yeah, I sure wanna fuck yuh, lady." Tony's strong white teeth glinted at her in the moonlight. "You too, huh? You all hot and wet down dere." He sniffed the fingers of his right hand and then noisily sucked one.
"After we make love will you drive me to ... to ... " She tried desperately to think of the name of the last good-sized town the bus had passed through before Eagle Junction but for the life of her she couldn't remember it.
"To San Francisco," she said finally, deciding that she would get out at the first place she could alert the police. After what she had overheard in the study that night she was certain she had enough evidence to at least convince someone that this Roger Blake should be put under surveillance until Randall had returned safely from the mountains. Then it would be a simple matter for him to verify his financial accounts and see that his cousin had been swindling him.
"Drive yuh . .. ?" Tony echoed in a doubtful voice. A frustrated expression appeared on his swarthy face and it was obvious that a tremendous conflict was going on in his dull brute's brain. "Duh boss'll be mad," he objected.
"But Mr. Randall is the real boss, isn't he, Tony?" Susanna reminded him persuasively. "And he wants you to drive me to San Francisco. He told Miss Hedy that. Remember?"
"Yeah ..." Tony frowned dubiously.
"You've got the car keys, haven't you, Tony?" Susanna asked in a sudden panic.
"Oh, sure. I got duh keys." Tony grinned broadly again and patted his pants pocket.
"Then you'll do it? You'll drive me to San Francisco?"
"If you say dat's what Mr. Randall wants..." Tony nodded slowly. "Sure, I'll drive yuh!" he agreed suddenly, evidently much relieved at having reached a decision. "Now I really wanna fuck yuh, lady. Take off your clothes."
He began to tear impatiently at his own shirt and pants, and in a second he was standing completely naked next to her in the moonlight, his broad powerful chest completely covered by a thick mat of curly black hairs.
God! Just like a gorilla, Susanna thought distractedly as in spite of herself, her eyes were drawn down to his loins. His thick dark-skinned throbbing penis jutted aggressively out in front of him like a small burly arm with its fist clenched in a fierce salute to animal lust. Below it swayed the pendulous sac of his sperm-bloated testicles. A shudder of revulsion chased down the young blonde's spine as he began to lewdly stroke the thick foreskin back and forth over the gleaming blood-gorged head of his rigidly pulsating member. For a moment, she wondered if she could go through with this nightmarish debasement; then she reminded herself that Randall Blake's very life was at stake, and she stood up to take off her bathrobe.
"It's big, huh lady?" Tony boasted, continuing to stroke his heavy rod of flesh up and down. "I bet yuh ain't never had nothin' this big up yuh cunt before."
Susanna glanced quickly up at the hairy man's face. She thought she'd heard a touch of malice in his voice that didn't go with his previous dull-witted behavior. She wondered if he had noticed her shudder of distaste and been offended by it. Naturally, in his simple-minded way, he would be proud of his penis. It was really all he had to be proud of. No, she decided, as she studied his impassive face with the mongoloid eyes and stupidly drooping lower hp. She had been mistaken. He was too dumb to be malicious. Reluctantly, she looked down at his still burgeoning member and forced herself to say, "Oh yes, Tony. It's the biggest one I've ever seen."
And that was true, she reflected grimly to herself. At least, it was certainly the thickest. Maybe not quite as long as the one she'd just seen in the study, but certainly both thicker and longer than the only one that had ever been inside her ... That young college boy's whose name she didn't even know. She hoped she would still be able to move after this primitive creature had finished with her.
"An' yuh wanna feel it way up inside yer hot little pussy, don't'cha lady?" the hairy brute persisted doggedly.
"Oh yes, Tony. I do!" Susanna exclaimed.
"Den whadda yuh waitin' for tuh take off duh nightgown?" he growled irritably, taking a menacing step toward her and reaching out his thick muscular hands as if to rip off the offending garment.
Instinctively Susanna shrank away from him, and the edge of the bed caught her behind the knees. Losing her balance, she fell backwards onto the narrow mattress, and the skirt of her nightie flew up around her waist, revealing the soft golden vee between her shapely thighs glowing like a will-o'-the-wisp in the shimmering moonlight. With a guttural unintelligible sound, the squat hairy man bounded forward, landing on his knees between her out-flung legs. His hard sweaty fingers dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her inner thighs as he forced them still farther apart, and he licked his thick lips nervously as he peered down at the moist pink flesh of her defenseless genitals.
"Noooo! Pleeeaasse!" Susanna wailed when she realized what he intended to do. The idea of oral sex, even with someone she loved, had always disgusted her in the extreme, but that this loathsome brute should defile her in that way was just more than she could bear. "Just make love to me, Tony," she begged him, forcing herself to add, "with your wonderful big penis."
The swarthy gardener just grunted again and grinned at her with slobbering lips as she strained up off the bed to stare abjectly down at him. She reached down and feebly tried to pull him up on top of her, but he merely brushed her back impatiently. She heard his tongue making lewd clacking noises in his own mouth as he planted the palms of his hands flat against the inside of her thighs with his thumbs resting on the soft fleshy lips of her pussy. Then with agonizing slowness he pulled the ragged pink edges of her cunt apart, and she felt his hot breath panting into the moist pink slit where the trembling little bud of her clitoris lay totally exposed to his greedy gaze. His head hovered there for an endless moment, then with the savage growl of a rapacious animal ripping into the warm flesh of its drying prey, he plummeted his face down into her wide-split crevice and speared the full length of his snake-like tongue into the fearfully quivering opening of her vagina.
"Oooooohhh!" The long wail of distress broke from deep in Susanna's chest, and she twisted vainly this way and that to escape the slavering tongue that began to alternately scoop up into her vagina, then swirl maddeningly around her rapidly reawakening clitoris. Her head flopped weakly back on the mattress, and she stared in horrified disbelief up into the pure moonlight streaming through the window while, in the shadows between her legs, the dark head bobbed and the flames of forbidden pleasure licked higher and higher in her treacherous loins. For the second time in half an hour, her body had completely deserted her and seemed to revel in the sheer bestiality of what was being done to it. Randall, Randall, she prayed despairingly, sent your pure spirit to help me in my time of need!
He was out there somewhere, she knew. The same moon was shining down on his noble face as he slept the sleep of the innocent and chaste on the mountainside while she . . . God! Lewd wet slurping noises filled the little room with their obscene message, and her long lithe legs jerked convulsively even farther apart to give the rutting animal between her thighs fuller access to her feverishly throbbing clitoris. Her two slender hands streaked down and buried themselves in his thick black hair, pulling his face harder into the wetly flowing valley of her forever-defiled cunt. Yes ... forever defiled, but she no longer cared. She groaned and rapidly clenched and unclenched her buttocks to drive her wildly pulsating clitoris harder up into that gluttonously sucking mouth.
"You wanna, I fuck yuh now, lady?" Tony asked suddenly, raising his wetly glistening face from between her thighs and grinning at her. His two hands raked out and seized the jutting nipples of her heaving breasts, pinching them cruelly.
"Ouch!" Susanna yelped as sudden pain shot through her body which just a second before had been suffused with erotic delight. Tony pinched again and this time the pain seemed to immediately blend with a returning surge of pleasure. "Ohhhh, yessss!" she breathed ecstatically, feeling the immense void his tongue had left between her legs. She arched her pelvis yearningly up toward his grinning face. "Beg me!" he grunted.
"What!" Susanna jerked her head up off the bed in surprise. A look of sadistic amusement flitted swiftly across his swarthy face and again she had the impression that the imbecilic gardener might not be as stupid as he appeared. But her brain was so blurred with passion and alcohol that she couldn't be sure.
"Beg me tuh fuck yuh, lady," he repeated with a gleam of animal cunning in his dark eyes. "If yuh wanna get tuh Frisco."
"Oh, fuck me, Tony. Please fuck me!" she begged, flailing her head from side to side so that he wouldn't see the tears of shame and humiliation welling up into her eyes. The worst of it was that she could no longer pretend that she was submitting to his brutish lovemaking just for the sake of Randall Blake. Her entire body was a quivering mass of lewd desire to be fucked! She wanted the hairy gardener's thick cock deep inside her, filling her belly, even if it did tear her to pieces and mangle her for life. First with his finger, then with his slobbering tongue, the loutish man had dragged her down in no time at all to his own level of bestial sensuality. God! She was no better than an animal herself!
"Oh, hurry, Tony," she moaned, abandoning the last shred of her modesty and surrendering herself up completely to the mercy of her ravisher. "Fuck me quick!" The salaciousness of her own words sent a lurid thrill spiraling up her spine. She squirmed around so that she was lying full-length on the narrow bed with her legs spread invitingly open and Waited with a mixture of dread and excited anticipation as the ape-like gardener clambered up between them. His strong white teeth glinted in the moonlight again as he positioned himself over her.
'Tut it in!" he commanded hoarsely.
Trembling with fear and the urgency of her need, Susanna reached down between their bodies where his thick hard penis was poised at the entrance of her vagina. Her breath caught in hex throat when her hand made its first electric contact with the hot sticky tip of his rigidly straining member. God! It was much bigger around than she had thought, but there was no turning back now. Timidly, she slid her hand down the heavy throbbing shaft and guided it forward, using the smooth rubbery head to part the moist fleshy lips of her quivering pussy. She gave a shivering little sigh when she felt it lodge against the tight elastic opening of her vagina and held her breath ...
He lunged forward!
"Aaaagggghhh!" she groaned as the bulging tip popped through the little-used opening, stretching it so cruelly that Susanna thought her thighs would be split apart by the relentless bone-crushing pressure.
"Noooo! Wait! You're killing me!" the young blonde pleaded, her lovely heart-shaped face contorted in a grimace of pain. She felt like a helpless animal trapped under the weight of his hairy chest and pelvis. "Please, Toneeee ..." she begged again, but his sadistic idiot's grin merely broadened. God! He was enjoying hurting her, she realized. He was enjoying watching her suffer under his savage rape of her defenseless cunt. Slowly, his grin faded, replaced by an expression of raw animal lust, and Susanna braced herself for what she instinctively knew was about to come.
With a guttural snarl, Tony flexed his powerful loins and rammed into the helplessly pinioned girl. His thick hard cock plowed into her juicy cunt like a torpedo slicing through the sea, pushing the soft moist flesh of her tightly clasping vagina ahead of it in rippling waves until his balls smacked loudly against the splayed cheeks of her up-turned ass. That would teach her to fuck around with poor dumb gardeners, he chuckled grimly to himself, remembering the various expressions of disgust and disapproval he had seen on her face whenever she looked at him. She wouldn't be so goddamn condescending if she knew he was actually Randall Blake's secretary. The dumb cunt needed a little lesson in how to behave toward the less fortunate members of the human race. He throbbed his vengeful cock deep up inside her belly, causing her to give another sharp little gasp of pain.
Oh God! Susanna thought dazedly. The shock of his brutal entry seemed to have paralyzed her, and she didn't even have the strength left to moan. It felt as if something had exploded up inside her, and she was sure she must be bleeding. The pain was a thousand times worse than when that silly drunken boy had taken her virginity. She stared apathetically up at the gardener's swarthy face, waiting for him to continue his inhuman torture of her body. It seemed to her that she could feel every little ridge and bump on his log-like penis that was buried to the hilt in the raw lacerated flesh of her vagina.
"Yuh like dat, huh?" Tony grinned down at her. "It feel good up dere, don't it, lady?"
Susanna nodded dully up at him, willing to agree to anything to delay for a moment the agony she knew she would feel when he began to move back and forth inside her.
"Say it den!" Tony angrily lashed out at her. "Say yuh like my big hard cock up dere, yuh dumb cunt!"
"I... I like it... I like your big hard cock up inside me," the young blonde managed to say in a quavering voice. Tears welled back up into her stricken blue eyes. Dumb cunt! This subhuman brute had called her a dumb cunt, and for him no doubt that was all she was. She had certainly behaved like one, letting him excite her first with his finger, then with his tongue in that revolting manner. She was no better than the whores he probably usually went to. For the first time the full extent of her degradation was borne home to her, and she knew that she would never be the same again. The hairy man leering down at her had ravaged more than her body. He had destroyed her self-respect!
Slowly, Tony began to rotate his pelvis against Susanna's, mashing down on the hot swollen little bud of her clitoris without drawing his throbbing cock back out of her cunt, and gradually he felt the tight narrow passage widening, lubricating itself with the rich juices of lust. Still continuing the rotary motion, he began to saw in and out of the snugly clasping hole with short hard strokes at first, then longer smoother thrusts that brought his cock almost all the way out of her vagina as he felt her sensuous young body begin to come to life under him.
Soon, with the supple reflexes of a trained dancer, Susanna's lithe swiveling hips were rising to meet him stroke for stroke, subtly catching and varying his rhythm, and he began to realize what a treasure of untapped erotic energy lay beneath him. For a second he stopped and held his pulsating hardness motionless inside her, but she never faltered. Her writhing pussy jerked downwards, milking his bursting cock to the very tip, then hungrily swallowed the rampant shaft up to the hilt again without missing a beat of the rhythm they had established.
She gave a little grunt of pleasure as she ground her swollen clitoris against the thick hairy base of his cock, and he felt a responsive throb deep in his sperm-bloated balls. This girl, he mused, was going to be too much. In spite of her obvious skill in fucking, he sensed that she had never before experienced the pleasure he was giving her now, and the thought multiplied his excitement a thousand fold. He began to fuck into her moistly flowering cunt with hard pile-driving strokes that brought a passionate moan of servile acceptance from deep in her chest.
Susanna couldn't believe what was happening to her. A strange barbaric rhythm was beating through her veins, and she was dancing to it as she had never danced before, leaping, spinning, floating light as a feather high in some miraculous new dimension that had nothing to do with the world as she had known it till then. She soared effortlessly from one pinnacle of erotic pleasure to another, propelled by the thick hard cock pumping incessantly in and out of her wetly seething vagina. Every square inch of the surface of her body that came in contact with the hairy man lying on top of her felt vitally alive for the first time in her life as if she was absorbing his virile strength through every pore in her body ... as if every pore in her body was a tiny cunt opening wide to receive his life-giving fluids.
Even when she felt his hard fingers dig under her into the soft flesh of her flexing buttocks and stretched them cruelly apart, even when one blunt finger jabbed viciously through her puckered little anus and sent a jolt of burning pain scorching through every nerve-end in her body, she never lost the hectic cadence of their frenzied fucking. He was the master of this carnal ballet, and she would follow wherever he led. And of course, he was right! As he worked his finger around and around inside the soft rubbery canal, her anus grew accustomed to the unnatural invasion, and the burning sensation blended with the molten flow of fiery rapture swirling in her arching loins, multiplying its intensity almost beyond the endurance point.
The tendons in her long swan-like neck stood out taut and vibrant as she writhed feverishly under his heavy frame in complete abandonment to the double impalement of her cunt and anus. She squirmed eagerly back on his reaming finger, forcing it up into the warm dark depths of her rectum past the second knuckle then surged upward to completely engulf his downward plunging penis in the moist velvety sheath of her vagina.
Intuitively, Tony stepped up the rhythm of his cock-thrusts deep and hard into her wetly sucking cunt. As her body thrashed uncontrollably under him and her legs jerked out wildly then hooked themselves over his back--leaving her cuntal area wide open to the jackhammer strokes of his brutally driving penis--he knew that she was ready to cum. He grunted hoarsely and quickened his stroke again, ramming his thick hard rod of flesh deep up into the hidden virginal recesses of her womb.
Susanna's lithely supple body convulsed suddenly, ceasing all motion for a split second as she hovered on the brink of soul-searing orgasm. She gave a hacking little sob; then her arms and legs locked around Tony's massive torso, and she bucked frantically upward, grinding her sweating pelvis against his in a delirium of desire.
"Ohhhhhhh! Godddd! I'm cuuummmmiiinnngg!" she wailed ecstatically, "I'm cummmmiinnnggg!"
Her hot frothing orgasmic liquids gushed through the dilated opening of her quivering vagina, flooding Tony's pistoning cock and crazily swinging balls just as the first jets of his overheated sperm rifled deep into her soft receptive belly. He felt her hips jerk up yearningly toward him, the clasping lips of her cunt twitching and sucking with an instinct as old as mankind, and she milked him dry of the last drop of his precious semen.
Susanna's arms and legs went suddenly limp and slipped lifelessly off the hairy gardener's sweat-slick back onto the narrow bed. She lay obscenely spread-eagled under his still heaving body, staring mournfully up into the beam of moonlight that illumined the sordid little room. What was wrong with her? she wondered numbly. Why hadn't Richard known how to bring her to an earth-shattering climax like this brutish creature on top of her had just done. Had her ex-fianc� been too gentle? Did she have a masochistic quirk in her character that required the added stimulus of savage bestiality? Did she have to be taken by force and cruelly tormented in order to have an orgasm?
Her delicate nostrils flared with repugnance as she realized that the acrid odor of sweat and sex she smelled came not only from the hairy man who was finally rolling off of her but also from her own satiated body. God! Not only had she behaved like a whore, she even smelled like one.
"Will you take me to San Francisco now?" she asked Tony in a dull toneless voice. The squat ape-like man had gone to the wash-basin and was throwing handfuls of water over his face and chest, snorting noisily like the animal that he was.
"I'll be goddamned! Here she is!"
Randall Blake, who with Hedy had watched most of Tony's virtuoso performance with Susanna through the half-open door barged unsteadily in just at that moment and glared apoplectically down at the startled young blonde as if he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Fucking the gardener!" he roared in an outraged tone of voice as Susanna scrambled hastily off the far side of the bed, covering her naked body with the sweat-soaked sheet she had been lying on.
"She's been fucking the goddamn gardener!"
Randall repeated with feigned incredulity. "Would you believe that, Hedy?" he asked the willowy raven-haired woman who had entered to stand beside him. "Would you believe a well-brought-up high-minded girl who loves poetry would sneak out of her room in the middle of the night to fuck some hairy sonuvabitch of a gardener? Tony, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" he admonished his secretary.
"Uuh, well, duh ... duh lady ..." Tony stammered, embarrassedly. "She .. . uh . .. wanna fuck, so .. . uh, I.. . "
"So you fucked her," Randall finished for him.
"Yeah, I fuck her good, boss," Tony boasted with his idiotic grin glinting in the moonlight.
"I'll bet you did," Randall agreed with a sarcastic sneer. "It smells like a goddamn whorehouse in here. Was she a good fuck, Tony?"
"Oh yeah, boss!" Tony enthused. "Duh best!"
"Good," Randall said, "in that case, I'm sure the young lady has other surprises in store for us. But Hedy will have to give her a bath before I let her touch me. Now bring her along," he ordered, turning on his heel and striding imperiously out of the little room.
CHAPTER FIVE
As she and Hedy crossed to the dark silent house behind the tall man she thought was Roger Blake, Susanna was silently blessing Tony for not having given her away. She couldn't be sure, of course, that Roger hadn't overheard what she said about Tony driving her to San Francisco, but somehow she didn't believe he had. Otherwise, he would certainly have mentioned it.
So there was still a chance that the gardener would keep his promise and take her away without telling anyone. She was afraid that if she simply announced that she had changed her mind and wished to leave, Randall's unscrupulous cousin would become suspicious and keep her there against her will. After what she had heard that night, she knew he was capable of anything. God, she might even end up at the bottom of a cliff somewhere with poor Randall.
Susanna shivered apprehensively as they entered the house and went up the stairs to a spacious room that overlooked the terrace in the direction of the ocean. She felt like a captive beast being led to the slaughterhouse. She just hoped that the drunken man whose eyes were now roving greedily over her scantily clad body would be satisfied by making ordinary love to her and not force her to do what Hedy hadn't been able to . . . But she knew it was a very slim hope indeed. Her throat muscles contracted, and she fought down an urge to retch as she remembered how tautly the older girl's lips had been stretched around the glistening white, heavily veined surface of the awful man's penis.
"This is Randall's bedroom," Randall leered knowingly at Susanna. "But I'm sure he won't mind if we have a little fun here while he's away.
Now, Hedy, you take Susanna into the bath and clean her up. Then I think I'll let her give you a lesson in how to suck cock. You won't mind, will you, Susanna?" he asked the young blonde with false solicitude. "I'm sure you've had a lot of experience."."
"I'm awfully tired," Susanna said feebly, not daring to protest further.
"Of course! We're all tired!" Randall exclaimed cheerfully. He went to a cabinet in the corner of the room, produced glasses and the inevitable bottle of cognac and poured out three shots.
This time Susanna accepted hers gratefully. She was going to need it to get through the night without losing her sanity. She downed the fiery liquid in one gulp and placed the glass on a night-table beside the bed. Lying there was a slim dark-red book which she recognized at once as the latest volume of Randall Blake's poetry. As if by accident, she let her fingers brush casually against the book which the great man himself must have recently held in his hands, hoping that some of his noble spirit would enter her through the contact and give her the strength she so desperately needed.
Randall noticed the furtive gesture and remarked derisively, "Perhaps you'll read some of Randall's poetry to us, too, after you've sucked my cock."
"Oh, no! I couldn't!" Susanna blushed furiously and went into the bathroom where Hedy was already running water into the tub. The dark-haired older girl looked at her sympathetically and helped her off with her nightie, noting with approval the youthful but shapely curves of her lithe young body.
"I'm terribly sorry about all this," she whispered in her low contralto voice. "It's just that. . . He's had too much to drink tonight."
Susanna looked searchingly at the fine, delicately chiseled facial features of the other girl. She had instinctively liked Hedy when they met that afternoon and had been constantly embarrassed for her throughout the painful evening that followed because of the crude way the drunken lout in the bedroom had flouted the fact she was his mistress. Susanna couldn't see what the raven-haired beauty saw in the horrible man. He must have some kind of hold on her to make her his reluctant lover and unwilling accomplice in his swindling schemes. If only, the young blonde thought wistfully, if only she could somehow win Hedy over to her side .. . make an ally of her.
Thoughtfully, she stepped into the steaming foam bath and sank gratefully down under the myriad multi-colored bubbles floating on the surface of the deliciously soothing water. God! Her body felt like it had been beaten all over by hard sticks, and she was totally exhausted.
She tried to think of a way she could get to know more about Hedy. She had to decide if she could trust the exotic brunette enough to tell her what she had overheard in the study downstairs and explain the real reason she had been in Tony's room.
"Here. Let me soap your back," Hedy said, kneeling down beside the tub and beginning to gently rub the attractive blonde's satiny skin with her right hand. "You must be dead tired," she added feelingly, dipping up water around Susanna's slender neck and kneading her shoulder muscles with soft deft fingers. She was curious to know what was going on in the young girl's mind just at that moment. Probably she was dreading what she was going to have to do to Randall. Poor little thing, Hedy sighed with silent amusement to herself. If she only knew how good a big hard virile cock tasted!
"Oh, that feels good!" Susanna murmured happily as the skillfully kneading fingers drained the fatigue from her shoulder and back muscles.
When she turned her head to smile her thanks at the other girl, their faces were only inches apart. The brunette's dark intense eyes glittered at her and Susanna suddenly felt as if they were magnetically locked together by a mysterious current. A light feathery sensation fluttered deep in her loins, and she was unable to move when the older girl slowly leaned forward and pressed her warm parted lips against her mouth. Even when she felt the moist pink tip of Hedy's tongue licking slowly back and forth against her teeth, Susanna did not draw back. For a long breathless moment they remained that way, savoring each other's closeness. Then Randall bellowed out from the adjoining room.
"What the hell's going on in there anyway!"
The two startled girls broke apart, both blushing furiously. Hedy jumped up and Susanna began to busily scrub the rest of her body, making a lot of noise with the water so the drunken sadist in the next room wouldn't come to investigate. She couldn't understand what had just happened between her and Hedy. It was only the second time in her life she had been kissed on the mouth by a woman who wasn't related to her. The first time, when she was fourteen years old, had been the direct cause of her giving up any idea of a professional career as a dancer.
She shivered in the hot bath as she remembered the gray wintry afternoon seven years earlier when the leading ballerina of the resident troupe had visited the young girl's training class and later sent for Susanna to compliment her and assure her of a great future in ballet. Of course, all the compliments had only been a prelude to a long, forced kiss which had left the frightened child she was then in hysterical tears.
She had run weeping from the ballerina's dressing room to tell her teacher what had happened, but neither her teacher nor any of her friends to whom she mentioned the incident had seemed the slightest bit surprised or indignant. The ballerina in question, who was then already forty years old, was a notorious lesbian, and the general attitude in the school seemed to be that Susanna would have done better to accept the famous woman's advances. That same night she had telephoned her father to take her away, explaining only that she had changed her mind and preferred to attend a regular school.
As she stopped from the relaxing bath and toweled herself dry, Susanna could still remember the spasm of revulsion she had felt when the ballerina kissed her. It had been nothing like the sweet current that seemed to pass between her and Hedy when their lips met. Was it some kind of a reaction to Tony's animal-like assault, she wondered. Or a kind of natural sympathy that she could trust? She looked bewilderedly at the raven-haired girl who was watching her with a warm admiring smile, and her pulse quickened. Hedy came toward her with her bathrobe and slipped it over her shoulders, giving her a gentle hug as she did so. Susanna trembled, feeling a tremendous urge to take the older girl in her arms. It didn't make any sense. Nothing made any sense anymore.
"You girls like each other, huh?" Randall leered at them from the doorway with exaggerated drunkenness, causing them to spring guiltily apart. "I don't mind," he went on in his deliberately slurred voice. "Why don't'cha hop into bed and put on a little show for old cousin Roger?"
Susanna stared miserably at the drunken man leaning against the door with a glass of cognac in his hand. His dressing gown had fallen open, revealing his thick hose-like penis drooping down against the bloated sac of his balls. God! They looked enormous... as if they could squirt a gallon of cum down her throat. She shuddered with loathing at the thought, remembering the hot gooey stickiness of Richard's sperm when it had spattered all over her belly and breasts. She knew she could never bring herself to swallow the awful stuff. Suddenly, her nerves felt so frazzled she thought they would jump out of her skin if she didn't have another drink right away ... she who had always abhorred alcohol!
"Could I have another drink, please?" she asked the tall leering man hesitantly.
"Sure thing, baby," Randall slurred. "And I'll join ya. How 'bout you, Hedy?"
"No, thank you," the black-haired girl replied, adding timidly. "Don't you think you've had enough, Roger?"
"Nah, I can hold it, kid," Randall grinned blearily at them. "Ya know, I was just looking at that book 'a poems, and I think I could do as good as Randall if I put my mind to it. Actually, it's pretty hot stuff," he went on, handing Susanna another shot of cognac. "Take the one that starts off where he's parting her hair to kiss her pale forehead. What that really means is he's parting her hairy pussy lips to kiss her hot little cunt."
"It does not!" Susanna exclaimed vehemently. She was ready to put up with any outrage to her body for Randall's sake, but she would not permit his beautiful poetry to be sullied in this filthy manner.
"Oh no?" Randall jeered. He had to admit he just loved seeing this crazy little cunt getting all worked up over his poetry. "What is this girl he's talking about anyway? Some kind'a goon that wears her hair down over the front of her face so he has to part it to kiss her forehead? I suppose you're gonna tell me she's just wearing real long bangs ..."
"Oh! You just don't understand!" Susanna raged, tears of frustration popping into her big blue eyes. She was so furious at the loutish man she could have thrown her cognac right in his face, but she gulped it down instead.
"Well, I didn't mean to get you all steamed up, kid," Randall said slyly. "Why don't you lie down and let Hedy get you ready to suck my cock, huh? But first, let's all get naked." He slipped his dressing gown off his hefty shoulders, tossed it carelessly on the floor behind him, then poured himself another shot of cognac from the bottle he had placed on the night table.
Her only hope, Susanna thought, was that the horrible man would drink himself into a stupor so that she could slip away before she had to perform the degrading act he kept talking about. She stared at his heavily muscled body with abject fascination as she saw it naked up close for the first time. God! He was so strong and in such good condition for a man of his age. He certainly didn't look like someone who drank heavily all the time. In spite of herself, her brain registered little details like the fact that his eyebrows and pubic hairs were still black while the tangled hair on his head and chest was gray. And on his white blue-veined foreskin she saw a circle of vermilion . . . poor Hedy's lipstick.
She turned to the raven-haired girl and almost gasped with admiration as she saw the firm fullness of her large ripe breasts and the breathtaking curve of her slender waist flowering into shapely hips and long tapering thighs. Hedy had taken off her peignoir and was stretched out naked behind her on the huge bed, watching her with an ambiguous little smile playing about her gleaming lips. Her dark eyes glittered hypnotically again, holding Susanna's, and she murmured, "Take off your bathrobe and lie down beside me."
With a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, the young blonde girl did as she was directed, knowing that the brute behind her would force her to anyway if she hesitated. Just the idea of being naked in bed with another woman and a man sent a giddy rush of blood to her head and she felt her heart begin to thud wildly under her breast. As she lay down beside Hedy, she caught sight of the dark glossy vee nestling between the older girl's thighs and felt a tingling flash of lewd desire. She wanted to touch that alluring triangle ... to tangle her fingers in the silky black curls. Fearfully, she blocked the unnaturally perverted thought from her mind.
Hedy drew her into a tight embrace so that Susanna's high firm breasts were crushed against the soft resilient flesh of her own larger ones and breathed in a barely audible whisper, "If we kiss long enough, maybe he'll go to sleep."
Susanna nodded imperceptibly to show her understanding as Hedy's sweet warm mouth pressed against hers and the magical flow of pleasure which she had felt in the bath was immediately re-established. It was a dreamy blissful feeling that enveloped her completely and seemed to protect her from the coarse brutish man in back of her. She could hear him smacking his lips as he sipped his cognac, and the bottle rattled against the glass when he unsteadily poured himself another drink. Good! She thought to herself. He would surely pass out. He'd been drinking steadily since seven that evening and probably before. She closed her eyes and unthinkingly opened her mouth to receive Hedy's wetly probing tongue.
Hedy smiled to herself with salacious glee when she felt a long shuddering tremor ripple through Susanna's lithe smooth-skinned body as their tongues entwined and their saliva mixed and flowed deliciously between their sucking mouths. The strength of the young blonde's responses indicated that it shouldn't be long before they were sixty-nining together, and the thought that Randall would actually be watching her suck another girl's cunt perversely redoubled Hedy's excitement. She ground her fleecy pelvis against the soft golden vee between Susanna's slim legs, feeling an immediate answering pressure.
Encouraged, she reached up and began to gently fondle one of the young girl's breasts, teasing its coral-tinted corona and hard berry-like nipple lightly with the sharp ends of her lacquered fingernails. Then she withdrew her mouth from the innocent blonde's and with quick little kisses under her chin and along her swan-like neck, began to slowly work her way down.
When Susanna felt Hedy's moistly heated lips close like a soothing balm around the painfully aroused nipple of her breast, her deeply instilled abhorrence of lesbian practices abruptly reasserted itself and an alarm clamored through the alcoholic fumes clouding her brain. If it hadn't been for the naked brute lying just behind her, she would have jerked away in spite of the rising tide of forbidden pleasure swirling through her heated loins. It was sick and wrong, what the older girl was doing to her, but what could she do? She had the choice between two perversions. God! It was an impossible situation! Either she had to take the horrible man's penis into her mouth or she had to let Hedy do . . . whatever she was going to do. Again an explosive flash of lewd desire raced through her frazzled nerve-ends, and this time, she couldn't block it from her mind. Was Hedy going to . . . kiss her . ..down there? And was that what the drunken beast behind her wanted to see?
Exactly as if he had read her mind, she heard the deep slurred voice say, "Okay, baby. Time's awastin'. Now go down on her juicy little pussy to put her in a sucking mood."
Susanna cringed helplessly when she felt two strong hands suddenly dig into the taut flesh of her two buttocks and pull them apart, holding them stretched that way until she thought she would cry out with the bitterness of her shame and humiliation. She felt the cool night air on her sorely abused little anus which still twinged occasionally from where Tony had stuck his thick finger up it. Was that what the vicious creature behind her was looking at? Could he see some sign of the hairy gardener's manual rape of her rectum?
"What are you doing!" she cried when she could no longer stand the hard hands brutally prying her behind apart. She twisted her head to look over her shoulder at her tormentor. He was sitting in a cross-legged Yoga position with the swollen bulbous head and thick shaft of his penis rising stiffly from his hairy crotch. There was an expression of intense curiosity on his deeply tanned face as he studied her wide-split anal crevice.
"Oh, nothin'," he said with a stupid grin, finally letting her ass-cheeks spring provocatively together again. He leaned back to get his cognac glass from the table and added, "Okay, girls, let's get on with the show."
Hedy, who had raised her head from Susanna's breast during this interruption, now lay back down beside the young blonde and whispered, "Don't pay any attention to him, dear. He wants me to suck your cunt, so you might as well enjoy it. Roll over on your back. I'll make you cum!"
Susanna recoiled with disgust at these obscene words mouthed in her ear. In a way, she was glad the foul man behind her had done what he did because it had finally brought her to her senses. The lewd salacious desire that had been spreading against her will through her body like some feverish sickness had vanished completely. She couldn't understand how she had ever been naive enough to hope that Hedy would become her ally, either. Obviously, the beautiful brunette was so far under her brutal lord and master's sway that she would obey his slightest whim, sinking even to the sickest perversion. The only reason she didn't joyfully suck his huge penis was obviously just because it was physically impossible. Susanna shuddered again when she remembered what was in store for her and closed her eyes.
You bastard, Randall, Hedy swore to herself as she sat by Susanna's side and gently drew the sharp tips of her nails over the taut skin of the curvaceous blonde's belly and flanks. She could tell that he had killed the young girl's awakening response by grabbing her buttocks that way, and now she would have to start all over.
She frowned at her gray-haired lover across Susanna's supine body, but he merely grinned lopsidedly at her and knocked down another belt of cognac. Christ, he really looked like he was sloppy drunk, but she guessed he was just putting it on, the ham! In three years she had never seen Randall really drunk, and the thick hard pole jutting out from between his legs certainly didn't show any sign of sagging. She had a sudden urgent desire to lean over and swallow it all up in one gulp. The act she had put on in the study for Susanna's benefit had been one of the most frustrating things she'd ever done in her life. God! She could still taste the delicious tang of that big cock, and she'd had to stop sucking it before he came so that they could go over and see Tony in action. Jesus, the hairy secretary had really done a job on the innocent young girl, Hedy mused. She would have to go some to top it, but she had no doubt she could. It was just a question of a woman's finesse against a man's brute strength.
Lightly, with the sharp tips of her nails, she traced the jutting arc of Susanna's hip, following the smooth sweeping curve of her tightly clenched thighs down to her knees then drawing her fingers back up along the crack between them to the base of the golden vee where the beginning of the thin coral line between her pussy lips was visible. Slowly, she bent over that enticing pubic triangle and licked the creamy white flesh all around it before worming the tip of her slender pointed tongue into the narrow pink slit of the young girl's moist warm cunt. Then she slid smoothly over on top of Susanna in a kneeling position so that her own enflamed pussy hovered directly over the unsuspecting blonde's face and bent down to nuzzle between her thighs until her sinuous tongue made contact with the throbbing little button of her clitoris.
Susanna's pelvis jerked convulsively and her eyes flew open when she felt Hedy's smoothly wet tongue wriggled down her cuntal furrow and touch her rapidly swelling clitoris. She had been lying there, striving with every fiber in her being to resist the older girl's subtle ministrations . . . her lightly grazing fingertips . . . the moist warm kisses around her mound of Venus on the sensitive flesh of her upper thighs. She tried to substitute Richard's face for that of the raven-haired beauty, remembering how his mechanical caresses had merely irritated her. . . but there was no comparison between Richard's bony finger and Hedy's soft lips and liquid tongue.
God, and then when she opened her eyes and saw the older girl's cunt poised just above her with its sparsely haired, delicately fluted lips parted to lewdly reveal the pink, wetly glistening flesh of her vaginal slit with its quivering flower-like opening and wildly pulsating little clitoral bud which seemed to be vibrating on the same wavelength as her own . . . Well it was all just too much for her.
With a little moan of surrender, she let Hedy push open her slackened thighs, and with a mind-darkening sense of relief, felt the older girl's mouth slide down her cuntal furrow and the softness of her sucking lips settle around the secret fountainhead of her passion. She couldn't possibly resist Hedy's degrading defilement of her own loins, she realized, as one feathery burst of pleasure followed another deep in her belly, but at least she could refuse to join her in the obscene lesbian coupling.
She stared wide-eyed up at the salacious spectacle of the brunette's moistly dripping cunt nakedly displayed just a few inches from her face. She could see every minute detail. . . The tiny dewdrops of moisture seeping from the dilated hole of her vagina, sliding down the wet pink valley of flesh to gather in the black tangle of her pubic hairs like sparkling jewels . . . The tiny puckered anus which seemed to open and close ever so slightly with each flex of the voluptuous older girl's widely splayed buttocks . . . And the wildly throbbing little clitoris so swollen with desire for the soft encircling pressure of Susanna's own lips.
Teetering on the brink of vile temptation, the young blonde closed her eyes to blot out the sight of her female lover's aroused genitals swaying so invitingly above her, but their intoxicating odor was so overwhelmingly delicious she could almost taste it in her mouth. With another despairing little moan she turned her face away and tried to concentrate her attention entirely on the maddening tongue between her legs that was relentlessly lashing her toward a peak of erotic excitement she never dreamed could exist.
Randall watched curiously as he saw Susanna's golden head begin to flail from side to side between Hedy's knees and her shapely buttocks rise from the bed as she feverishly ground her lathered pussy up against the black-haired girl's face with a spasmodic gyrating motion. He wondered how long the young blonde could hold out before she pulled Hedy's seething cunt down on top of her mouth. That was what he had been patiently waiting for.. . to see the two of them wildly lapping each other's hot little pussies, the black meshed with the gold, just as he had pictured it in his mind's eye .. . but Susanna was being stubborn. Too goddamn stubborn and selfish, he mused, noting the increasingly frantic cadence of her writhing hips. For Chrissake, she was going to cum all by herself and that was strictly against house rules.
"Okay!" he snarled suddenly, slipping without effort back into the role of cousin Roger. "That's enough of that shit!" He pulled Hedy roughly off Susanna, leaving the young blonde arching her quivering loins vainly toward empty air.
"Ooooohhhhh, nooooooooo!" she wailed in an anguished voice when she saw the brutal man pulling Hedy away from her. "Don't stop her now! I was just about to cum!"
All her sense of shame had vanished, swallowed up in the devouring holocaust of lust raging in her vitals. Of their own will, her two hands streaked down to her wide-split cunt, frenziedly rubbing her inflamed clitoris and dipping up into the hot moistly clasping tunnel of her vagina where her female ravisher's skillful tongue had been swirling just a second before. Her lips were bared back over her teeth and only the whites of her eyes showed as she thrashed crazily around on the bed, half out of her mind with frustrated desire.
With something akin to amazement, Randall watched the lurid spectacle of the formerly prim and proper Susanna Long wantonly fingering herself right in front of his eyes. Jesus, he thought to himself with a sidelong glance at Hedy, never underestimate the power of a woman's tongue. His raven-haired mistress's face was still glistening with Susanna's vaginal juices and there was a hectic glint in her dark eyes. She smiled knowingly up at him, then he felt her soft slender fingers close around the throbbing girth of his overcharged cock and she dipped her head down quickly, sliding her ovalled lips over the swollen tip of his penis and halfway down its rigid shaft before he could stop her.
His heavy balls seemed to literally churn in their sperm-bloated sac as he hastily pulled her mouth back off his furiously twitching member with a loud slurping noise. Christ, she'd nearly blown him and their elaborately prepared scenario with one fantastic suck, he thought grimly to himself. He scowled at her but she merely stuck out the pink tip of her tongue and curled it lasciviously upward in a suggestive way that set off another train of powdery explosions deep in his loins.
Jesus, he had to fuck this hot little Susanna bitch in the face before long or he'd shoot his load in the air just from watching her. She had scissored her long lithe legs even farther apart and was pumping three fingers of one hand as far up her vagina as they would go while with the heel of her other hand she mashed down on her bedeviled little clitoris in a vain attempt to recapture the magic of Hedy's tongue.
"I said enough of that shit!" Randall roared, reaching out to yank both her small hands away from her writhing crotch. "Who the fuck do you think you are, having all the fun and not giving any to other folks? Here!" He flipped her over on her belly and dragged her across the bed until her face was just a few inches from his sperm-laden balls and the lust-swollen shaft that soared up from them.
"Get up on your hands and knees and work on that for a while," he ordered her harshly, holding out his long sword-like penis toward her passion-glazed eyes. "Hedy, you get behind her," he told his mistress. "When she licks my cock, you lick her cunt. When she sucks my cock, you suck her cunt. But not before. Got it?"
Hedy nodded with an amused smile and moved to Susanna's side. By tugging at her hips she finally got the befuddled girl up on all fours and was able to position herself between her legs. Maliciously she leaned forward and blew her warm breath into the young blonde's moistly flowing cuntal crevice, causing the firm white half-moons of her splayed buttocks to jerk uncontrollably.
"Now, you got that?" Randall growled at Susanna whose breath was still coming in hoarse rasping pants like a wounded animal's. "A lick for a lick, a suck for a suck. That's fair, ain't it?" He scowled when the dazed girl just stared up at him with uncomprehending eyes. "Better give her a couple of licks to get her started," he said to Hedy. "But just a couple."
When Susanna felt the older girl's moist smooth tongue slide wetly over her tightly puckered anus, dip briefly up into her vagina and then travel on to gently flip her expectantly quivering clitoris, the galvanic shock of renewed contact momentarily cleared the mist of lust and alcohol from her distraught brain and she understood the obscenely disgusting bargain the evil man in front of her was striking with her.
A lick for a lick, a suck for a suck!
As Hedy's supple tongue started its backward passage along her cuntal slit toward her tingling anus, Susanna stared numbly down at the bulging purplish head of the penis mushrooming under her nose and realized that she no longer had a choice. She had lost the battle for self-control. It was more important to have that miracle-working tongue between her legs than anything else in the world. Already the blissful streams of liquid fire were flowing out from her loins again, crisscrossing through every vein and artery in her body, opening up secret channels she never knew she had before.
With a little gasp she reached out for the monstrously throbbing rod of flesh and drew it toward her mouth. Timidly, she curled out the moist pink tip of her tongue and drew it up along the taut silky-skinned underside of the swollen cone-like head, tasting the salty tang of potent male sperm for the first time as she licked away the droplets oozing from the tiny slit at the end.
"All right. You can keep at her," Randall said coarsely to Hedy, leering down at the golden head now bobbing servilely over his lusty cock and balls. By God, he mused, after all these years it had finally happened. He finally had one of these uptight literary bitches who thought love was all in the mind right where he wanted her. This was the kind of poetry lesson he enjoyed giving and he couldn't wait for the moment she would really understand it. That was the moment he liked best with all the cunts he had initiated into this particular little rite of sex . . . The moment when they stopped thinking what they were doing was vile, disgusting, revolting, and suddenly realized they loved it!
He grunted and thrust upward, feeling the sharp edges of Susanna's teeth painfully graze the blood-gorged surface of his cock-head as it popped between her ovalled lips into her mouth.
"Watch that!" he gritted down at her. "Watch the goddamn teeth."
Susanna felt his powerful fingers come down and tangle themselves in her hair, holding her impaled on the rigidly throbbing penis that completely filled her mouth. God, it's so big! she thought despairingly to herself. But as he didn't move for a moment, she felt her jaw relaxing, accustoming itself to the enormous intruder, and she began to cautiously swab her tongue around the bottom and sides of the pulsating organ just as she felt Hedy doing to her wildly tingling clitoris.
Gradually, as she began to work her tautly stretched mouth on and off the smooth rubbery head, swallowing a little bit more of the hard swollen shaft each time, she began to feel a lurid masochistic thrill. God, she was actually doing it! She was really sucking this evil man's huge potent penis like the lowest of whores and already she was taking more of it in her mouth than Hedy had been able to do.
Excitedly, with a sense of reveling in the degrading act, she pumped her lips far down the thick, wetly glistening rod of flesh until she felt his wiry pubic hairs brush the tip of her nose and the strong virile odor of his loins saturated her nostrils. Without thinking what she was doing she slid her hand under the wrinkled sac of his balls and began to knead the large muscular orbs together, feeling his burgeoning cock throb mightily in response. Then his pelvis began a slow steady grind up against her face. Yes! She was going to be able to do it!
She would make this sadistic brute ejaculate his vile cum deep in her throat and when he had fallen into drunken sleep, she would slip away and make Tony drive her to the police. With that comforting thought a kind of ecstatic fusion seemed to take place in her body, blanking out her mind until she was aware of nothing but the thick salty cock skewering in and out of her mouth and the pleasure-giving tongue tirelessly probing into every nook and cranny of her quivering, sex-inflamed cunt.
Well, no sixty-nining with innocent Susanna this time, Hedy mused ruefully to herself as she continued her expert tonguing of the young blonde's juicy pussy. But the way she was responding to their little experiment indicated that there would surely be other times. The obscene sucking noises now filling the room told her that the inexperienced college girl was a fast learner and she herself was so keenly attuned sexually to Randall's body that she sensed he was close to cumming. She dug her delicately featured face deeper into Susanna's dripping cuntal crevice and speared her swirling Tongue as far as it would go up into the expanding vaginal passage which was now copiously flowing with delicious juices. When she heard Randall grunt and begin to quicken his upward thrusts into their young protege's mouth, Hedy placed the palms of both her hands against the blonde girl's firmly rounded thighs and began to shove her forward onto his lunging rod in the same savage tempo. She heard Susanna give a stifled whimper deep in her cock-filled throat but her fleeting resistance vanished almost immediately and soon her glistening sweat-covered young body had caught and even accelerated the new rhythm.
"Ohhh, sheeeeeeit!" Randall swore as he looked down at Susanna's lust-crazed face and felt her sharp teeth digging into the very base of his penis as she frantically pumped her mouth down its whole saliva-slick length, then drew her clinging ovalled lips all the way up to the tip to give the swollen crown a nerve-tingling swipe of her tongue before plunging her golden head impetuously down onto his cock once again. It was the moment he'd been waiting for. She really wanted his cock now. Christ, she'd suck his aching balls into her mouth too if she possibly could.
"Goddaaaammmmnnnnn!" he groaned as he realized he couldn't hold back any longer. With a last convulsive upward thrust of his raging loins he drove the last quarter-inch of his bursting cock between her lips and held her silky-blonde head clamped against his hairy pelvis while jet after seething jet of his pent-up cum squirted deep, deep into her velvety throat.
Miraculously suspended between the hard cock in her mouth and the softly licking tongue in her cunt, Susanna felt as weightless as the flames of wanton passion leaping through her lust-driven body. Her entire being glowed with incandescent fire and when she felt the first spurts of potent male cum pelt against the back of her throat, she felt her own orgasm explode inside her like a flare bursting in her pleasure-dimmed consciousness.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she chanted to herself in time to the jerking cock spewing its hot sticky liquid into the depths of her throat. "Cum! Cum! Cum!"
Maybe it was vile, maybe it was lewd, but she wanted more and more of that hot gushing sperm that was flooding back into her mouth and trickling down her chin. Tremor after rapturous tremor swept her from head to toe with each successive jet of the delicious fluid and her own pussy flowered outward with the warm flowing gushes of her own cumming which she felt Hedy eagerly swallowing just as she was swallowing all that great cock in her mouth had to give. In that long ecstatic moment she felt completely united with the two strangers who held her between them, then it was over.
Over!
The wilting, completely emptied penis slipped slimily from her bruised and swollen lips and the last thing she consciously registered was the sight of it lying obscenely across a hairy thigh, still glistening wetly with her own saliva. Then, with a heartbroken sob she collapsed into a deep mindless stupor.
"Randall Blake's crash course in sex." Hedy grinned mischievously at the gray-haired writer as she pulled her cum-smeared face from between the inert thighs of the oblivious young blonde girl. "It really knocks the students out. What's the next class about, professor?"
"Huh?" Randall looked listlessly up from Susanna's prostrate form with the dull eyes of a satiated man.
"I said what's the next class, professor?" Hedy repeated impishly. "What's next on the agenda?"
"Oh," Randall yawned. "Well, tomorrow we discuss the population explosion and the blessings of the anal orgasm, with a little laboratory work afterward."
"No doubt, my friend, no doubt," Hedy agreed sarcastically. "But I mean tonight. What's next on the agenda tonight?"
"Sleep," Randall replied firmly.
"Oh, no it isn't, old Randall-Roger-Rumble -Grumble," Hedy corrected him as she crawled up astride his husky body and poised her dripping pussy just above his rugged chin. "One good turn deserves another, as the lady said ... It won't take long," she added dreamily as she sank her throbbing cunt down on his smiling mouth. She shivered deliciously when his strong agile tongue snaked out and flipped her attention-starved little clitoris the way he knew she liked it. No, it wouldn't take long .. .
CHAPTER SIX
When Susanna woke up the next morning, her mind at first completely refused to function. She didn't want to know where she was, remember what had happened the night before or face the problems the day was bound to bring. She ground her face down into the pillow, trying to make believe she was back in her little room in the gabled house in Northampton . .. but she couldn't hold onto the illusion. There was too much space around her.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked blearily around at the large airy room with the bright sunlight filtering through the drawn shutters. She looked at the ceiling, at an abstract painting on a wall, a chest-of-drawers .. . and finally she forced herself to look down at the giant-size bed she was lying on. A wave of disgust and self-loathing swept over her. No, it hadn't been just a nightmare. There was a pillow on each side of hers and hollows in the wrinkled sheets plainly indicated that she had slept between two other bodies. As she looked closer, she saw spots of dried cum here and there and suddenly in her mind she had a vivid picture of herself greedily gulping down hot male sperm and reveling in it. Almost under her nose there was a coiled black pubic hair, too thick and coarse to be Hedy's.
With a stifled sob she slid off the bed, found her bathrobe on the floor and walked unsteadily to the door. She had failed! She had failed Randall Blake! Instead of slipping away after her two debauchers had fallen asleep as she had intended, she had passed out cold after that last incredible orgasm. Her sex-sated body had betrayed her and she had slept even longer than those other two friends.
Half-expecting the man she thought was Roger Blake to be standing on the other side, leering at her with a glass of cognac in his hand, she stealthily opened the door and peered down the hall. It was deserted, thank God. She hurried to the room she thought was hers, only to find it locked. With a sinking heart she tried the next... and there everything was, all her things just as she had left them. She quickly locked the door and sank dizzily down on the rumpled bed where she had drunkenly twisted and turned the night before trying to solve the problem of how to help Randall.
And the problem was still there, she reminded herself, but now she just didn't feel she had the strength to cope with it. How was she ever going to face Hedy and her vicious lover after the disgustingly wanton way she had responded to their lewd caresses? God, she'd been like putty in their hands! Her pale heart-shaped face crimsoned blood-red when she remembered how she had shamelessly fingered herself right in front of them. Of course, it had been all the alcohol she had drunk and the terrible strain she had been under, but still... Never in a million years would she have believed herself capable of such things.
But it wasn't a question of her, she reproved herself grimly. It was a question of Randall Blake whose life was in danger. She knew now that she couldn't count on Hedy to help her in any way. The raven-haired girl was much too much under the influence of her brutal lover to ever turn against him. So the only solution was to go to the police and hope for the best.
Wearily she forced herself to take a shower. Then she put on a simple blue-and-white halter dress and went down the curving Spanish stairs. The door to Randall Blake's study was closed but though she held her breath to listen, she could hear no sound of life behind it. It occurred to her that the only phone she had seen in the house was in the study and if she could only slip in there and call the police... She was just reaching for the doorknob when the phone inside suddenly jangled, the receiver was lifted and she heard a low resonant voice say in precise, clipped tones, "Hello... ? Oh, hello, Charles. How are you? No ... but I think I've solved the problem. At least I feel like writing again. The book should be finished in two months at the most. Yes ... Thanks for calling. Goodbye."
Randall Blake!
Susanna's heart leaped into her throat. Randall was back, safe and sound! She had never forgotten the sound of that deep voice with its beautifully articulated way of speaking that she had heard as a child. Excitedly, she knocked on the door which was opened almost immediately by Hedy.
"Oh . ..Good morning, Susanna!" the willowy brunette exclaimed, looking a bit startled. "We ... I didn't realize you were up yet."
"Hi ya, kid! How ya feel after last night?"
The coarse hateful voice she knew as Roger Blake's boomed in Susanna's ears. She stared in dismay at the rugged grey-haired man sitting with his feet propped up on a corner of the desk. The lecherous leer on his tanned face left no doubt that it was he who had forced her to do those unspeakable things the night before.
"But... but I thought I heard Randall's voice," she faltered, fighting to keep back the tears of disappointment.
"Oh, tha's just part'a my job as secretary," Randall smoothly explained with a very loutish, Roger-type grin at the troubled young blonde. "When old Randall ain't here, I imitate his voice so folks won't know he's goofin' off up in the mountains."
"Yes, Roger does a very good imitation of Randall, don't you think, dear?" Hedy put in quickly, circling Susanna's shoulders with her slender arm. "Why don't we go out in the kitchen and have some toast and coffee. You must be starved."
Numbly, Susanna let herself be led out of the study and down the hall toward the kitchen. The imitation of Randall's voice had really been extraordinary, she thought uneasily. It had certainly fooled her. And Hedy had said Roger and Randall looked enough alike to be twins. So, really, there was nothing to stop Roger from turning into Randall. All he would have to do would be to learn to forge his cousin's handwriting and she was sure the unscrupulous man had already done that. So he could just kill Randall and take his place. Of course, he wouldn't be able to write novels or poetry but he could just say he didn't feel like it anymore. Lots of writers did that as they grew older. The diabolical simplicity of the plot made her shiver inwardly.
"Hedy," she blurted out suddenly as they entered the huge old-fashioned kitchen. "I've changed my mind. I'd like to have Tony drive me to San Francisco today."
"Why, of course, dear, if that's what you want," the raven-haired older girl smoothly agreed, popping some bread into a toaster and pouring out two cups of coffee from a pot that had been simmering on the stove. She placed the cups on a large clean-scrubbed wooden table and faced Susanna. "Is it because of what happened last night?" she asked softly, moving closer to the young blonde and looking at her searchingly.
Susanna swallowed hard and felt her skin prickle as Hedy's alluring musky scent enveloped her and she felt the unnatural current of attraction begin to flow between them again.
"Yes!" she said defiantly, forcing herself to meet the older girl's dark glittering gaze.
"I thought you enjoyed it," Hedy persisted slyly. "At least the part with me. You certainly had a beautiful orgasm. I can still taste your delicious cum. And you even seemed to enjoy sucking Roger's cock," she added maliciously.
"I was drunk! I didn't know what I was doing!" Susanna cried, her face blazing with shame even as she felt a lewd urge to reach out and touch the beautiful brunette, fondle her luscious breasts, caress the glossy black vee between her legs. God, she must be going crazy. "I've got to go now! Right away!" she insisted wildly. "I don't want any coffee. I'll go up and pack my bag."
"All right. I'll tell Roger," Hedy said.
"Oh, please don't!" Susanna begged desperately. "I don't want to see him again."
"You won't have to, if you don't wan't to, dear," Hedy soothed her. "But he has the car keys."
"I thought Tony had them!" the distraught young blonde wailed.
"Roger took them away from Tony this morning," Hedy explained glibly. "I don't know why."
"Ohhh ..." Susanna sank weakly into a chair by the table. She knew why! It was because Roger had heard her ask Tony to drive her away the night before. She was a prisoner!
"You'd better have some coffee," Hedy said kindly, setting cream and sugar on the table. "I'll be right back."
As the deceptively slender-looking brunette left the kitchen, Susanna mechanically sipped the fragrant coffee, wondering what on earth she was going to do. Her mind darted this way and that like a rat in a maze but came up with nothing. She couldn't try to run away during the day because they would catch her long before she reached the highway at the end of the valley and at night they would probably use her body for their vile pleasure again as they had last night. Her hands trembled violently as obscene images of herself in one debased perverted act after another raced through her overwrought brain. Those images would be with her forever, she knew, imprinted indelibly on her memory.
" 'Lo, Miss--uuh--Susanna."
The startled young girl jumped and spilled half her coffee on the table as Tony entered silently through a door behind her and sidled over to her. God, he was always sneaking up on her! She frowned sternly up at his swarthy unshaven face with its idiotic grin and asked sharply, "Tony, why did Mr. Roger take the car keys away from you?"
"I duh--I dunno, Miss," the hairy gardener bumbled. "I guess it's 'cause he caught me fuckin' yuh an' he wanted to do it to yuh hisself. Did he do it to yuh?" he asked eagerly, squeezing the front of his fly with obvious excitement.
"Of course not!" Susanna rebuked himself sharply, feeling the blood surge into her face again. "Tony, is it true that Mr. Randall and Mr. Roger look exactly alike?"
"Oh, yeah . .. Yuh can't tell dem apart, 'cept by the way dey talk," the slow-witted man replied. "Yuh fucked me good, Miss, so why'n't yuh fuck Mr. Roger?"
"Oh, Tony, it's because I really like you!" the desperate young girl lied. "I'll fuck you again if you'll just get me away from here. Go get the car keys from Mr. Roger! Take them away from him! You're a lot younger and stronger than he is."
"Oh, yeah. I kin get duh keys all right!" Tony grinned at her, balling up his thick hairy fist and making his powerful biceps bulge out from under his short-sleeved tee shirt. "Will yuh fuck me right now?" he asked, moistening his thick lips with the tip of his tongue as his coffee-colored eyes raked over her lithe young body.
"As soon as we get away from the house, Tony" Susanna said. "I promise."
"Nah! Right now!" the moronic gardener insisted stubbornly. He moved toward her, obscenely caressing the rapidly growing bulge in the crotch of his faded dungarees.
"But we can't!" Susanna protested impatiently. "Hedy--Miss Hedy will be back any minute."
"Awwww, she won't mind," Tony mumbled. "She likes tuh watch. You ever do it on a chair?" he inquired suddenly. One of his long ape-like arms swung out and circles her tiny waist, sweeping her against his brawny chest. His mouth ground down against hers in a hard crushing kiss and she could feel his thick strong tongue probing against her tightly clenched teeth.
God, it was last night all over again, Susanna thought miserably, aware of the unwanted feathery awakening in her loins as she remembered the soaring orgasm the hairy brute had brought her to in his squalid little room .. . The only natural orgasm a man had ever given her! Oh God! She struggled frantically to pull away as she felt the hardening length of his penis pressing against her pelvic mound and a trickle of moisture in her own alerted pussy.
Her body was responding to his violent animal impulses like another animal's .. . She wondered what he had meant by Hedy liking to watch. Did she and her hateful lover sometimes use this subhuman creature to put on sex exhibitions for them? After last night she wouldn't be surprised at anything. God, suppose they both came in right now and just stood there watching and laughing while Tony fucked her. She redoubled her efforts to push him away.
So here we go again, Miss--uuh--Susanna, Tony mused ironically to himself. With one muscular arm he easily held the writhing young girl locked against his sturdy torso while with his other hand he unbuttoned the top of her halter dress and unzipped it all the way down to the cleft between the smooth satiny cheeks of her ass. He was definitely going to miss being Tony the idiot-apeman, he realized. There was a double-barreled kick in taking a prim and proper little bitch who thought he was a halfwit moron and then fucking her until she was just a mewling whining mass of female lust begging for more cock.
"I tear duh dress off if yuh don't stop wigglin' " he growled menacingly in Susanna's ear.
The trembling young blonde abruptly gave up the unequal struggle and stood still while the swarthy man pulled off her dress, unsnapped her bra and peeled her flimsy panties down her long slim legs. It was senseless to try to resist his brute force, she knew, and he was her only chance of getting out of this accursed house. She waited with a violently pounding heart as he scuffed off his rope-soled shoes and pushed his dungarees down his powerful hairy thighs. She had to win him over to her side. She just had to!
"Oh, Tony!" she feigned a delighted little gasp of excitement when his thick dark-skinned penis popped free, thrusting proudly into the air in that lewd salute to lust that she remembered from the night before. God, in broad daylight it looked twice as big around. She didn't see how she had ever been able to take all of it in her without being torn apart.
"When we get to San Francisco," she went on gamely, "we'll go to a hotel and fuck and fuck all night long, won't we, Tony?"
"Will yuh suck me, too?" he drooled lecherously at her, clutching his bobbing member in one hand as if he was afraid it would fly away.
"Oh, yes! I want to suck you, too!" Susanna exclaimed without batting an eye. "But now we'll just have ... a fast fuck and then you'll get the car keys, won't you, Tony?" She forced herself to snuggle up against his hairy hide and reached down to brazenly stroke the loose foreskin up and down his still-swelling cock-shaft with one small hand. The salacious words and acts stirred the prurient desire lurking deep in her loins and she shivered with the knowledge of her newly discovered weakness.
"Yeah, dat's right. Uh fast fuck onna chair." Tony grinned loosely at her and led her over to a sturdy straight-backed chair by the kitchen table. He sat down on it, bent forward and buried his swarthy face in the soft golden fleece between her shapely thighs, lapping very rapidly like a dog with his long slippery tongue until he had licked her pubic curls away from the moist pink slit of her upper cunt. His grasping fingers dug into the soft flesh of her buttocks as he pulled her hard against his slobbering mouth and his tongue curved upward to flip the flowering little bud of her clitoris.
Susanna swayed weakly forward, tangling her hands in his thick black hair. A little moan escaped her slackly parted lips as a flurry of erotic excitement billowed up from her pubic vee, swelling her breasts and stiffening her nipples in their coral-tinted coronas. She stared glassily at the door through which Hedy and her fiendish lover might enter at any minute to catch her in the middle of this shamelessly degraded coupling. .. and in a warped twisted way she almost wished they would .. . After what they had done to her last night.
Briefly, she was aware that something terrible had happened to her mind since she had entered Randall Blake's house, then she was conscious only of the mounting urgency of a craving that the agile tongue swirling around the inflamed nub of her throbbing clitoris could only intensify . .. never completely satisfy.
"Fuck me, Tony," she panted hoarsely, pulling feebly at his head with both hands. "Fuck me now!"
Tony raised his head from her wetly frothing crotch and nodded. "Wait uh seond," he mumbled. "I got uh idea." He stood up and lumbered into a small washroom adjoining the kitchen, reappearing almost immediately with a good-sized mirror which he had taken from above the basin. This he propped up on a chair opposite the one he had been sitting on.
"Now we kin--uuh--see what we're doin'," he grinned half-wittedly up at her. He sat down again and adjusted the mirror against the back of the other chair so that the thick turgid shaft and bulbous blood-filled head of his penis jutting out from its tangle of coal-black pubic hairs was clearly reflected. Then he reached out for Susanna's hips, twisting her around so that her back was toward him.
"Now yuh just siddown on it," he explained, spreading his hairy legs and pulling the young blonde back between them. "It's a lot more fun dis way .. . Seem' my big hot cock goin' in and out'a yer lil pussy."
Susanna felt his rough fingers slip under her buttocks and pull apart the slick wet lips of her cunt. Lurid chills chased up and down the length of her spine as she looked in the mirror opposite and saw his bulging blood-gorged cock-head poised just beneath the pinkly glistening flesh of her cuntal furrow. Fascinatedly, she watched as her own small hand reached down between her legs and encircled the rigid girth of his throbbing penis, directing it toward the palpitating entrance of her moistly dripping vagina. She could see ... as well as feel. .. the swollen sperm canal on the softer underside of his potent organ and the heavy sac of his testicles resting on the edge of the chair between his widespread legs. Slowly, with a little shudder of frightened delight, she squatted down on the blunt club-like shaft.
"Oooooohhhhhh," she moaned, half in pain, half in pleasure, as his thick iron-hard member slipped partway into her tightly stretched vagina. Gingerly she levered herself up, then sank back down again, pushing a little harder this time and watching avidly as an inch more of his rigidly throbbing cock disappeared up into the quivering depths of her cunt. Once more she raised up but this time as she started to sink down on him, he grabbed her around the waist just above the hip bones and brutally shoved .. .
"Uuuuunnnnnnggggggghhhhhh!" she groaned as the whole merciless length of his huge weapon skewered deep up into her belly and the jarring impact of her buttocks against his pelvis drove the breath from her lungs.
"Waaaaiiiiitttt!" she begged as the waves of pain radiating out from her cruelly impaled cunt began to gradually subside. She already knew from the experience of the night before that the thick girth of his trunk-like cock would be the source of excruciating pleasure if only he would give her the time to adapt to it.
Tony reached around her and pulled her supple dancer's legs up on top of his thighs so that they were spread out in almost a flat plane and the quivering little jewel of her clitoris nestling between the uneven, sparsely haired lips of her pussy was clearly visible in the mirror. Directly under it about an inch of the dark-skinned underside of his jerking cock protruded obscenely from her cunt and the pendulous sperm-bloated sac of his balls sagged over the edge of the chair toward the floor.
Susanna stared at the lewdly exciting sight in the mirror as if hypnotized. Her whole slim youthful body shivered in a spasm of salacious titillation when she saw Tony's blunt forefinger reach down between her thighs and begin to stroke and tease the glistening pink little organ of her shameless delight. Little mewling sounds of pleasure tumbled from her gaping mouth as the finger circling her clitoris and the rampant cock throbbing wildly deep up inside her cunt sent thrilling charges of sensual gratification through every nerve in her sex-inflamed body. She strained forward and slipped her two hands under her buttocks onto his sinewy thighs in order to push herself upwards.
Slowly the thick rigid pole protruding from her cunt became visible in the mirror again, glistening wetly with her richly flowing vaginal juices. She pushed upward until she could see the pink cleft on the end of his penis where the swollen head began, then let herself plop down again on the well-greased rod of flesh with a little whimper of urgent need.
"Yuh ready tuh fuck now?" Tony whispered in her ear.
"Oh, yessss! God, yesssssss!" she hissed back at him, greedily watching the mirror to see what the animal-like man was going to do to her next. In her lust-clouded brain she no longer cared as long as the exquisitely agonizing sensations of erotic pleasure continued. Randall Blake himself could have walked into the kitchen at that moment and she wouldn't even have bothered to look at him.
Tony squeezed his powerful hands under the impassioned blonde's firmly rounded buttocks and began to bounce her up and down on his lap as easily as if she were a baby. He lifted her up until only the very tip of his swollen blood-filled cock was still inside her snugly clasping vagina, then slammed her down again, simultaneously giving a flexing upward twist of his pelvis. Susanna began to moan softly as she felt the huge head of his penis bang hard against her sensitive cervix on each deep penetration. She was floating in an uncharged region somewhere between agony and heavenly bliss but all that mattered was for it to go on.
With her eyes glued to the mirror she reached up and began to pinch the stiffened nipples of her wildly jiggling breasts while she avidly watched the lewd spectacle of the thick gleaming shaft pistoning in and out of her wetly dripping, wide-split cunt. She saw her vaginal juices begin to seep down over the brutish gardener's bloated sac of balls and drip onto the floor as he sawed tirelessly in and out of her desire-drenched pussy. God, let it go on forever, she thought ecstatically, abandoning her body and mind completely to the primitive creature behind her.
Each time he lifted her up she felt as if he were flinging her high into some dizzying rapturous region of pure blinding pleasure and when he slammed her down the burgeoning length of his throbbing cock again, she seemed to rebound higher than before, floating away from everything in the world except his hairy muscular body and the magic mirror in front of them that had transformed them into a single four-legged beast miraculously united in a savage race toward orgasm.
Suddenly she felt his wildly ramming cock give a mighty throb far up her sheathing cuntal passage and saw the sperm canal on the underside of his jerking penis bulge out as the first rush of heated semen seethed up from his dangling balls and burst like an exploding star deep in her womb.
"Godddddddd!" she wailed like a woman possessed when his spurting cum triggered off her own mad climax. "I'm c u u u u u m m m m m i i i n n n n n gg ! I'm. cummmmmiiinnnngggg!"
"Jeeeezusssss!" Tony groaned, continuing to pump her up and down on his frantically spouting cock until her sucking pussy lips had milked him dry of the last drop of cum and he didn't have the strength to lift her anymore. Watching in the mirror over her shoulder he saw his spent member ooze stickily out of her wide-split cunt, followed by a final spasmodic gush of their combined orgasmic liquids. For a long moment they both just sat there, on the chair, the lower halves of their nakedly entwined bodies reflected in the mirror like some obscenely sated, four-legged monster.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Susanna finally gathered the strength to unglue herself from Tony and stagger off to the washroom with her clothes, Hedy retreated discreetly from the kitchen doorway where she had been amusedly watching this example of the hairy secretary's sexual inventiveness. He and Randall were certainly two of a kind, she mused whimsically. No wonder they worked so well together.
She had gone to inform Randall of Susanna's decision to leave immediately and he had told her to start what he called Emergency Operation Number Two . . . which was the horny bastard's plan to get the young blonde up on the mountain alone with him. Actually, Hedy had to admit it was an ingenious plan, probably the only thing that would work with Susanna being in the state she was.
When she heard the door of the washroom open, Hedy waited a few minutes and then twisted her delicately featured face into what she hoped was a terribly worried expression and hurried into the kitchen. Tony had disappeared and Susanna was sitting slumped over at the kitchen table, sobbing brokenheartedly. Hedy went quickly over to her and hugged her comfortingly.
"What's wrong, dear?" she asked the distressed young girl warmly. "What happened? Why are you crying?"
"Oh, I don't know," Susanna sobbed. She couldn't tell Hedy the truth .. . that the ape-like gardener had seduced her again and now she was certain that he had no intention at all of keeping his promise to get the car keys and drive her away. "I just feel so depressed. I want to go back to San Francisco!" she blurted out miserably.
"Well, there's nothing to stop you," Hedy said, laying the car keys on the table. "But I wish you wouldn't."
"He gave you the keys!" Susanna exclaimed incredulously. God, after what she'd gone through to get them!
"He practically threw them at me," the willowy brunette replied, going into her little act. "But .. . Susanna, there's something I have to tell you and I don't know exactly how to put it. I think I need a drink."
She went to a cupboard, took out a bottle of vodka and came back to the table. Pouring a good-sized shot into her coffee cup, she gulped half of it down, took a deep breath and said, "I think Roger is planning to murder Randall."
"What!" Susanna gasped, astonished that Hedy would suddenly confide in her this way.
"He's been stealing Randall's money," the attractive brunette went on, looking as harassed as she possibly could and miserably twisting her slender hands together. "I think he's been caught or is about to be caught any day. I just heard the tail end of a phone conversation when I went back to the study. He was talking in Randall's voice and I heard him say, 'Roger's been stealing from me? I don't believe a word of it. All right, I'll look into it.' Then he hung up. He looked terribly upset and when I told him you wanted to leave, he said the sooner the better. He wants you out of the way. And now he's getting ready to go up on the mountain."
"Up on the mountain?" Susanna repeated in a frightened voice, not wanting to hear what she knew was coming next.
"Yes," Hedy said with a little catch in her voice. "He's going up there to find Randall and kill him. When he comes down, he'll be Randall, don't you see? He'll just say he's fired Roger and isn't going to prefer charges against him because he's his cousin. Under the circumstances no one will think it strange that Roger has suddenly disappeared. Oh God!" she sobbed suddenly. "I should have known it would come to this. He's talked about killing Randall before but I always thought it was just drunken boasting. Now he's really going to do it."
"We have to go to the police right away," Susanna whispered shakily.
"It'll be too late," Hedy objected tearfully. "There's only one solution, Susanna. You've got to go with him and stay with him every second! That's the only way to save Randall."
"Go with him ..." Susanna quavered. "But I can't! I mean, what good will it do? I can't stop him. He'd only kill me too."
"If I went with him, he'd probably kill me,"
Hedy said ruefully. "Everybody knows I'm Roger's mistress and it would be only natural if I disappeared at the same time he did. But if you disappeared, there would be a thorough investigation and the truth would be bound to come out. Roger knows this and he won't dare hurt you. He won't dare refuse to let you go with him either. It would look suspicious. After all, you came all the way out here just to see Randall and if you ask to go along, he'll have to let you. Maybe he'll just call the trip off. That's what I hope but I'm afraid hell take you along and then try to slip away from you somehow. Or else ..." the beautiful brunette lowered her voice and gave Susanna a shrewd look. "Or else he might just try to make things so unpleasant for you that you would turn back of your own accord."
Susanna shivered uneasily. She felt as if an army of ants was crawling through the marrow of her bones. "You mean he'll make me do things . . . like last night?" she asked apprehensively.
"I'm afraid so," Hedy nodded. "But it won't be for long, Susanna, I promise you. As soon as you leave, I'm going to call the sheriff and tell him everything. I thought I loved Roger. I guess I do love him in some strange way .. . but murder is going too far. With any luck the sheriff and his men will be here within an hour after you leave. I'm pretty sure I know where Roger will head for. There's a log cabin about two hours walk up the mountain that Randall often uses. He's such a fine man and such a great poet," she added softly. "It would be terrible if anything happened to him."
* * *
Susanna's heart felt like it would burst from her breast as she strove to keep up with the tall broad-shouldered man striding up the steep mountain trail ahead of her. He seemed to move effortlessly over the rugged terrain in spite of the heavy pack he carried on his back. The pack, she knew, contained food for two days, cooking utensils and a double-size sleeping bag.
"You won't mind, will ya, kid?" he had said with his habitual filthy leer when he explained that there would be only one sleeping bag for the two of them. "After all, it ain't like we're total strangers."
And, of course, knowing that he was just trying to discourage her from going with him, she had had to pretend that she didn't mind at all. She just hoped and prayed the sheriff and his men would catch up with them before it was time to go to bed but now she was beginning to be afraid they wouldn't. For the umpteenth time since they had started out she glanced at her watch. Hedy had said it took two hours to get to the cabin and they had been walking steadily for nearly three.
They must not be going to the cabin after all and for the life of her she couldn't see how anyone could ever find them in this wilderness. Sometimes the trail petered out completely but the man ahead of her seemed to know exactly where he was going. Finding that she was falling behind again, Susanna forced herself to walk faster. She was grimly determined to stick with the horrid brute every second they were up there.
"Here we are, kid," Randall said in his Roger voice after they had walked on another twenty minutes. He looked back at the flushed panting young blonde struggling after him with a sardonic grin on his craggy features. He'd had to do some fast thinking that morning when she unexpectedly caught him using his own voice but she'd fallen hook, line and sinker for Emergency Operation Number Two. He knew he could do any goddamn thing he wanted to her now, and she still wouldn't leave him. His thick long cock twitched nervously against the rough cloth of his suntans as he thought of the way her tiny puckered little asshole had winked at him the night before. Easy, boy, he mentally commanded his excited member. We got all the time in the world now.
Susanna stopped close to him and looked bewilderedly around her. They had just climbed a steep slope all slippery with dry needles from the tall pines towering above them and had reached an apparently impregnable cliff. She didn't see any place where they could possibly camp.
'This is pretty scary," Randall said casually. He made his way around a bulge in the base of the cliff to a place where there was a dark cave-like hole in the rock and unslung his pack. "Maybe you better wait for me here," he suggested. "If Randall's in there, I'll bring him out to talk to you."
"No. I'll go with you," Susanna replied firmly. She had no intention of letting him out of her sight even though what he said was true. The idea of following him into that dark cavernous hole gave her the heebie-jeebies.
"Okay." Randall shrugged and ducked down to enter the cave, pulling his pack behind him. Susanna hurried after him but soon found that now she had no difficulty keeping up with him. The walls of the cave narrowed rapidly so that he was obliged to twist his broad shoulders and walk sideways. As she felt her way along in the darkness, the cold clammy touch of the rock that had never seen the light of day made her shiver. Now it was obvious that the sheriff and his men would never find them and she would have to spend the night with this awful man, wherever he was taking her.
Gradually the walls of the cave widened and ahead of them a faint grey light filtered down. When they reached it, Susanna saw that they were standing in a narrow canyon-like fissure in the cliff. Two sheer walls of stone rose precipitously on either side of them and beyond she could see the warm blue of the sky. It was as if ages ago a gigantic ax had slashed into the mountainside, splitting it neatly asunder.
"Won't be long now, kid," Randall said, shouldering his pack again and leading the way along the rock-strewn canyon floor. They climbed steadily for about five minutes, then turned a bend and suddenly in front of Susanna was one of the most enchanting sights she had ever seen.
"Oh!" She gave a gasp of delight, momentarily forgetting the predicament she was in. Ahead of her stretched a small natural meadow of high green grass spotted with brilliant red and white, blue and yellow, wildflowers. Steep rocky escarpments rose all around the meadow except at the far end where down a gentler wooded sloped flowed a sparkling stream. Three reddish-brown deer grazing near the stream raised their heads to look at the intruders, then unhurriedly vanished into the pines.
"Randall!" Randall shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. His voice echoed eerily back and forth between the rocky walls, growing fainter and fainter until it finally died away and the virginal silence was restored.
"Shit, he's not here," he muttered irritably, glancing at the lithe young blonde standing beside him. "Well, it's too late to try any of the other places he usually goes. We'll have to camp here for the night. Over there by the stream," he added, wading forward into the lush knee-high grass.
Susanna silently followed him. She wasn't taken in by his act at all because she knew the last thing in the world he wanted to do was find Randall while she was with him. No doubt he intended to wait until she was asleep and then slip away. He had certainly picked the ideal spot. He could leave her here for a day, or two, if necessary, knowing that she wouldn't dare leave for fear of getting lost, then go and kill his cousin and return as Randall, pretending he had never seen her before.
Well, she vowed to herself, he wasn't going to get away with it. Much as the idea of sleeping close to him revolted her, she was glad they would be in the same sleeping bag together. That way his slightest movement would awaken her.
When they reached the stream which flowed sparkling clear out of the woods across an edge of the meadow and then abruptly disappeared into a subterranean passage under one of the surrounding cliffs, Randall opened his pack and took out two glasses and a bottle of vodka he had brought along.
"You wanna drink, kid?" he asked Susanna. "You must be kind'a tired after that hike."
"No, thank you," she answered primly. "Just a glass of water."
"Suit yourself," Randall shrugged. He dipped up a glass of crystal clear water from the stream and handed it to her, then poured himself a stiff drink. "How many trout can you eat?" he asked, unrolling the sleeping bag and pulling out a slender aluminum case. "I'm going fishing." He nodded toward the woods.
"Oh, I want to come with you!" Susanna exclaimed with feigned excitement.
"You stay here and make a fire," Randall said. "I won't be long. Nobody fishes this stream up here but me and Randall. It's full of trout."
"I'm afraid to stay here by myself," Susanna lied.
"Okay," Randall grinned at her. "Come along but stay back from the stream."
* * *
God, if he were only Randall, Susanna thought wistfully as later that evening she covertly observed the ruggedly handsome face of the man seated on the sleeping bag across the fire from her. They had had a delicious meal of freshly caught trout, country fried potatoes and salad, washed down by a bottle of Chablis wine chilled in the icy water of the little stream. She had broken down and permitted herself to have one glass of the wine because the spell of the beautiful secluded valley had gotten to her and, also, when she was watching Roger fish, it seemed impossible to believe that he was actually plotting to murder his cousin.
His expression had been so intent and somehow boyish as he skillfully flicked the fly under low-hanging limbs into the swirling stream and his pleasure when he caught a fair-sized trout was so spontaneous and innocent that he didn't seem at all like a man capable of such a sinister crime. At one point she had caught herself wondering if the whole idea wasn't just a product of her own fevered imagination but she realized at once that that was just wishful thinking. No, she reminded herself, this was the same man who had forced her to suck his revolting penis the night before, no matter how harmless he might appear now. He hadn't spoken to her much during the meal and now by the light of the fire he was scribbling something on a pad of paper which he carefully shielded from her gaze, pausing every once in awhile to stare pensively into the leaping flames.
The attractive young blonde shivered as she thought of all the things that had happened to her in slightly more than twenty-four hours. God, it was incredible! But at least there was one consolation. Everything that could possibly be done to her had already been done, so at least she knew that whatever Roger had in store for her that evening, it wouldn't kill her. She could even suck his cock again, if that was what the perverted sadistic man wanted. She swallowed uneasily as she remembered the weird sensation of warped pleasure she had experienced when his hot sticky cum had spurted against the back of her throat, gushed into her cock-filled mouth and trickled down her chin. She could almost taste its pungent tang.
Mechanically, Susanna squeezed her buttocks together to cut off the flow of warmth that circulated through her alerted loins every time she thought of the evil man's long hard cock pistoning in and out of her tightly stretched mouth. Suppose it hadn't just been all the alcohol she had absorbed into her system. Suppose she really had some sick abnormal side to her nature that enjoyed the degrading act. She certainly didn't have the excuse of alcohol tonight, not with just one glass of wine for dinner. So why did she have this prurient itch in her genitals and why did she have to consciously keep herself from staring at the crotch of the man across the fire? What was wrong with her anyway? Irritably, she slapped at a mosquito that had been whining around her head and finally lit on her cheek.
"Mosquito?" Randall asked, looking up from his writing pad at the young blonde fidgeting nervously on the other side of the fire. "I have something to take care of that, kid," he said when she nodded. "Come over here." He stuck his pad of paper in his pack and after rooting around inside it for a moment brought out a small bottle of insect repellent.
"C'mere," he repeated when he saw that she was hesitating. "I brought this for you. They don't bother me for some reason. Too ornery, I guess."
He chuckled happily at the stupid little joke and watched the lithe young blonde closely as she rose and reluctantly came around the fire toward him. She was wearing blue jeans, a man-style shirt and an old button-up black sweater that Hedy had lent her because she hadn't brought any clothes for roughing it. Her youthful hips didn't quite fill out the jeans and the curve of the sweater over her breasts wasn't as full as when his black-haired mistress wore it but her supple, superbly conditioned body more than made up for those slight short-comings. He was really looking forward to screwing her up her tight little ass tonight, and if she wasn't ready for it, he'd eat his fucking hat.
"Siddown," he said, unscrewing the cap of the little bottle and pouring some of the colorless liquid into the palm of his right hand. He quickly applied the lotion to one of her slender ankles, running his hand up her jeans as far as it would go and kneading the long smooth muscle of the calf of her slim shapely leg with his strong fingers.
"Say, you sure got some strong muscle there, kid," he observed. "You do a lot of sports in college?"
"I ... I dance a lot," Susanna replied, unwilling to talk about it with this crude man. She held out her hand for the bottle and added, "Here. I can put that on."
"Nan, I enjoy it," Randall grinned at her. He rubbed the repellent on her other ankle, on her hands and wrists, then on her cheeks and neck under her heavy honey-colored hair. "You really got a nice body, kid," he said admiringly. "I was a little blasted last night, so I guess I didn't really appreciate it."
He capped the bottle, tossed it in his pack and lay back on the sleeping bag. "Looks like every star in the sky is out tonight, don't it?" he remarked proudly as if it were his own personal doing. "That's the Big Dipper up there, and over there's Casseopia, and there's Castor and what's-his-name ..."
"Pollux," Susanna supplied grudgingly.
"Yep. That's right," Randall chuckled. "I used to know a lot about the constellations when I was a kid but it all went down the drain, like everything else." He reached out and swiftly pulled her down beside him before she could resist. "It's nice being up here alone together, just you and me. Ain't it, kid?"
Susanna didn't answer. God, he's so stupid! she was thinking, but at the same time the touch of his powerful hands on the skin of her ankles and wrists and neck had set her heart to racing. When he rolled over so that his muscular chest was pressed against her right breast and bent down his head to kiss her, she made no effort to resist. He was going to do what he was going to do, no matter what, so she might as well make it easy on herself. If only he wouldn't talk, she could pretend he was her beloved Randall. Yes, that was it. She would make believe he was Randall.
Randall, Randall, she murmured to herself when the man she thought was his cousin Roger ground his firm lips down against hers and his strong wet tongue pried insistently between her teeth until she opened her mouth to receive it. It was the first time she had ever thought of making physical love with the great poet but now, after what had happened to her in the last day, she realized that she had always subconsciously wanted to. If he desired her that way, she would joyfully give herself to him now.
Meanwhile there was his cousin Roger whose hand had slid in through the opening of Hedy's sweater and was cupping her left breast, tweaking and pinching the swelling little nipple through her shirt and bra while his mouth remained locked wetly against hers. Briefly, she thought of the night when her ex-fianc� Richard had been doing the same thing to her but that time seemed light years away. She had changed. God, had she ever changed!
A sudden electric thrill spiraled up her spine as she abruptly realized that she could enjoy making love to any man, even the grotesque half-witted Tony, even this potential murderer lying on top of her. Full of joyful confidence in her body for the first time in her life, she began to suck eagerly on the probing tongue in her mouth, glorying in the virile hardness she now felt pressing into the softness of her belly. She felt the moisture seeping down between her expectant thighs and writhed her hips in a frank signal of the urgency of her desire.
"Maybe it's the mountain air but goddamn, kid, I sure am ready to fuck." Randall raised his head and grinned down at her, his rugged face lit up by the flickering light of the veering yellow-orange flames of the camp fire.
"Me, too," Susanna breathed huskily. She reached down between their bodies and boldly stroked his long pulsating penis through the rough cloth of his pants, feeling completely unashamed in her newfound liberation. The pulsing sensation in her breasts floated down to the soft moist flesh between her thighs as she felt the responsive throbbing of his hard cock in her hand.
"Come on, kid. Let's get naked," Randall growled impatiently. He leaped up, tossed a couple of thick pine branches on the fire, sending a shower of sparks up into the chill night air, and rapidly stripped off his clothes. Soon the fire was roaring and Susanna could feel its warmth on her thighs and buttocks as she slipped out of Hedy's jeans and peeled down her panties which were already damp with her heated secretions. The idea of making love with this savage man, alone in the wilderness, by the light of their campfire, the way their primitive ancestors must have done sent prickly sensations racing across the surface of her creamy white skin. For tonight, at least, she was his mate.
When she was standing completely naked in front of him, Randall pulled her harshly to him, crushing her soft curvaceous flesh against his hard-muscled body, running his hands up and down her satiny-skinned back, fingering the rounded smoothness of her strong youthful buttocks. With a little grunt he dropped his shaggy head to her high firm breasts and sucked the hard throbbing nipples of first one then the other deep into his wet mouth, feasting on them like a famished child. Susanna swayed and tangled her fingers in his unruly iron-grey hair, feeling a rush of elation at the power her body gave her over this fierce man who was over twice her age.
"Get down on all fours," Randall ordered the young blonde after a moment. "I wanna fuck ya dog-style." He looked gloatingly down at her as without a word she obediently knelt on her elbows and knees beside the leaping fire with the white half-moons of her shapely buttocks tilted alluringly up to him. He hunched down between her long slim legs and peered hungrily at the soft golden fleece between her thighs where droplets of moisture already glittered like tiny jewels in the light of the soaring flames.
By God, she was ready, he mused. Whatever was going on in her mind, her body was certainly ready. He never would have believed that the prim, serious-faced little bitch who had showed up at his house the day before to discuss poetry and Platonic love would ever be crouched down in front of him like a humble slave, awaiting his pleasure. It just proved the old saying that truth is stranger than fiction. The heady odor of her hot spicy cunt filled his nostrils and he reached out with his thumbs to spread her wide-split ass-cheeks even farther. His tongue circled his wet lips greedily a moment in anticipation of the surprise he was going to give her, then flicked forward, the pointed tip darting deep along her cuntal furrow to moistly titillate the quivering bud of her erect clitoris.
Susanna trembled violently as the galvanic touch of his tongue sent shock waves of erotic pleasure radiating through her kneeling body, magnifying unbearably the lewd excitement his coarse words and her own servile position had already kindled in her mind. Like a dog, she thought dazedly. He was going to fuck her from the rear right out in the open and she had found in herself the capacity to enjoy, even exult in the obscene idea. She cambered her back and cocked her luscious ass up even higher in the air to give his long slippery tongue easier access to her wildly tingling clitoris.
"Mmmmmmmmmm," she purred rapturously as his sinewy organ slid back slightly and thrust up deep into the palpitating opening of her vaginal passage. Her widely splayed ass-cheeks began a jerking rotary motion as he swirled his tongue maddeningly inside the slick velvety hole and she was about to beg him to fuck her right away with his big hard cock when suddenly he lifted his head up slightly and began to lick her tiny virginal anus. She flinched away from the lecherous contact, unable to believe that even this uncouth man would be capable of such a filthy act, but his hard hands clamped around her hip bones in a vice-like grip and he continued to lick and probe at the tight puckered ring guarding her rectum.
She gasped when he even managed to worm the moist tip of his tongue up into the tight little hole, flushing her entire body with a weird niggling excitement. Almost immediately he straightened up, crawling forward on his knees between her legs, and she felt the swollen rubbery head of his iron-hard penis slide down the passion-drenched crevice of her pussy where with his hand he revolved the tip of it around her engorged clitoris. Thank God, she thought, when he backed away slightly and the cone-like end of his potent cock came to rest at the fluttering entrance to her vagina. She braced herself for the initial flash of pain that she knew would accompany his first hard thrust .. . but none came. He merely continued to rotate the huge slippery head of his cock between the fleshy lips of her cunt without entering her.
Oh, don't tease me like that! she begged silently in her mind, pushing her flared buttocks urgently back at him. In response she felt his thumbs dig into the soft flesh of her ass-cheeks on both sides of her anus, stretching them cruelly still farther apart, then the head of his rigidly throbbing penis slid up until it was pressing against her cringing little nether hole.
"Nooooooooo!" she wailed when she finally understood what the diabolical man intended to do to her. All her newfound confidence in the power of her body instantly deserted her. How could she ever have been naive enough to believe that this evil fiend of a man would make normal natural love to her? She tried frantically to squirm away from the vice-like grip of his powerful fingers but he held her easily.
"Take it easy, kid," Randall advised her with a sadistic leer twisting his handsome face. "This here little hole's been kind'a neglected recently, so I thought we ought'a do something about it. Matter of fact," he went on, increasing the pressure of his lust-stiffened cock against the tight rubbery ring of her anus, "It feels like it's been neglected all it's life. This is gonna open up a whole new world for you, baby."
"You'll kill me!" Susanna gasped, remembering the intense pain she had felt when Tony had just jabbed his finger up her rectum. This depraved man's huge penis would tear her to shreds. Tears of shame and fright ran down her cheeks as she realized how completely in his power she was.
"Nah," Randall taunted her with satanic glee. "It might hurt a little at first but you'll get used to it. I'm gonna love this," he added. "If I could write poetry like Randall, I'd write an ode to Susanna's little cherry asshole.
And he rammed into her.
"Aaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" Susanna's anguished scream filled the silent little valley, reverberating eerily back and forth between the rocky cliffs, as her tightly clenched anal ring gave way and the hard throbbing tip of his merciless cock popped inside her. To the terrified young girl it felt like a stick of dynamite had been jammed up her rectum and detonated. The explosion blasted through every shattered nerve-end in her body and she was catapulted into a world where all that existed was the searing agony in her cock-impaled anus. Every throb of the thick rock-hard shaft renewed the initial shock of its brutal intrusion. She choked back a moan and gritted her teeth, determined to die rather than give the sadistic monster behind her the pleasure of hearing her cry out again.
Randall Blake, world-famed novelist and esoteric poet, leered down like a demented maniac at the obscene spectacle of his long hard cock lewdly protruding from the innocent young blonde's forever stretched anus. That will teach you to read poetry you don't understand, young lady, he commented dryly to himself. Then he flexed his muscular loins and with short twisting strokes began to drill his thick potent member deeper and deeper up the warm brown depths of her rectal passage, drawing back after each thrust to gain momentum for the next relentless lunge. By the flickering light of the campfire he could see thin pink ridges of her tightly clinging anal hole pull out along the glistening white girth of his penis each time he drew back, then vanish as he forged back in. Little by little he drove the moistly resistant flesh of her rectal passage back to make room for his lustfully pulsating cock until finally the black pubic hairs around its base were grazing the smooth white skin of her trembling buttocks. He was buried in her up to the hilt!
Susanna felt like she was crawling along an endless black labyrinth of pain, only is some weird way she seemed to have been turned inside out so that the labyrinth was actually inside her own body. The tendons on her long swan-like neck stood out like cords and her slender fingers dug like talons into the thick quilted material of the sleeping bag as she braced herself for each successive battering thrust of the mammoth cock that was pummeling the virgin depths of her belly. Instinctively, she knew that there must be light somewhere ahead in that long twisting tortuous tunnel but where she would find the strength to endure the agonizing journey she couldn't imagine.
Before her dazed mind could fully comprehend it, her senses became aware that the relentless in-thrusts of the bludgeoning cock were growing longer and smoother and the withdrawal strokes were leaving her with a feeling of emptiness deep in her bowels which urgently needed to be filled again. Slowly at first, she began to push back to meet the fiendish lunges and a fiery glow of strange masochistic delight broke through the darkness of her ordeal. She was nearing the end!
As the glow deepened and gradually suffused her straining loins, she began to writhe her buttocks fiercely back on the hard, wildly ramming cock, exulting in the fact that her supple body could take the worst the man behind her could give and turn it into a source of exquisite pleasure. Now, instead of shame and humiliation, she felt a sense of triumphant victory over the limits of her flesh as spasm after rapturous spasm swept across the electrified surface of her skin. As she squirmed and wantonly bucked under his bull-like charges, she felt his hands leave her gyrating hips where they were no longer needed and begin to travel lightly over her sweat-coated back and neck and shoulders, her flanks and thighs, redoubling the ecstatic flow of erotic energy throughout her body. One of his hands gently caressed the curve of her cheek and touched her lips. Eagerly, she sucked his hard strong fingers into the hot wet cavern of her mouth and waited for the inevitable . . .
It came slowly, too slowly . . . She began to whimper and moan, thrashing in a maddened paroxysm of demanding female lust under the buffeting slams of his huge plunging cock while she waited for the fingers of his other hand to replace the teasing blows of his heavy balls swinging against her passion-drenched cunt. Frantically she sucked his fingers deeper into her mouth, screwing her wide-split ass-cheeks back harder and harder against his hairy pelvis until his great rod of pulsating flesh could penetrate no farther into her quaking bowels, and then . ..
He did it!
The thick stiffened middle finger along with the extended forefinger of his other hand speared like a second cock up into her wetly throbbing vagina just as she felt her buttocks swept apart by one last ass-crushing lunge and the potently virile cock buried to the hilt in her rectum began to jerk and spew its hot sticky fluid deep up inside her, filling her bowels with its boiling flood.
Her wild barbaric cry of triumph pierced the still night air as she felt herself filled in every hole and the first glorious tremors of her own delirious orgasm burst through the barriers of her mind and freed her once and for all for the savage enjoyment of her own hungry flesh. Shudder after climactic shudder racked her wildly flailing body as her heated pussy juices gushed over his strong fingers pumping deep into her vagina.
Gradually, as she felt the deflating penis slip limply from her still greedily contracting anus, a luminous sense of peace and certainty filled her mind. All of a sudden she knew that the man who had brought her such blissful fulfillment could only be Randall Blake. She didn't know how she knew, she just did.
She tenderly kissed the hand now lying inertly beneath her mouth and rolled over so that she could look up at the man kneeling silently beside her. The fire had died down but by the glow of its embers she could see the faint smile on his rugged face.
"You're Randall Blake, aren't you?" she asked in an awed little voice.
"Of course I am," Randall replied brusquely. "It's about time you guessed."
"How do you feel, Susanna?" Randall interrupted her.
"Oooooooohhh, wonderful. Wonderfullllll," the young girl sighed blissfully.
"Then don't ask why, you little ninny." The poet smiled at her to take the sting from his words and reached down to zip up the sleeping bag around them. "I wrote a little poem for you tonight," he added as Susanna curled contently against his hard-muscled body. "I'll show it to you tomorrow."
"Oh yes, tomorrow, Randall," Susanna breathed happily. There would be tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow . . .
She slept.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was the first day of fall term, and by three o'clock on that hazy languorous September afternoon Susanna had finished the formalities of registering for her new courses and was ready for adventure. As she strolled across the bustling campus toward her dormitory, stopping now and then to chat with old acquaintances, she was very much aware that her newly acquired poise and self-confidence were attracting envious attention, to say the very least.
Two months as Randall Blake's "house guest" had certainly done wonders for her, she mused whimsically, although of course she had not spent the whole time at Randall's home. After two idyllic days alone with the famous writer, a helicopter had dropped down between the rocky cliffs ringing the secluded meadow, bringing Hedy and Tony Calderon and two other couples loaded down with enough food and drink for an army. For four more days, the eight of them had feasted, caroused and made love together to celebrate Susanna's "coming of age", as Tony liked to put it, and after that the rest of the summer had been an endless round of invitations to the houses of Randall's various other friends.
In six short weeks she had met. . . and fucked . . . some of the most brilliant and famous men on the West Coast. One of them, a young composer whose music she had admired for years, had even proposed marriage to her, explaining that he in no way meant to limit her freedom, or his own either for that matter, but that he merely wished to make sure that she would be a permanent member of their community. She had asked him to wait for her answer until after she had graduated and he had generously agreed. Susanna thought she would probably eventually accept his proposal because she truly enjoyed being with him, but meanwhile there were a few loose ends in her life which needed attention. Richard Howell, for one.
When she reached her room, she dumped her newly purchased books carelessly on the bed and went to look at herself in the mirror. Her tawny honey-colored hair fell in a shimmering halo to her shoulders, lustrously framing her piquant heart-shaped face. She was one of those rare blondes who tanned a deep glowing bronze which strikingly emphasized the azure blue of her eyes. She had never in her life looked better, she knew, but how, exactly, was she going to use her beauty and what she had learned about sex to teach Richard Howell the lesson he deserved. He was nothing but a poor soul, but he had nearly ruined her life with his prissy hypocritical ideas about love, and she damn well intended to make him pay for that.
The obvious revenge was to do a real number on him, give him the works, then slam the door in his face. Until now she hadn't been able to come up with anything better than that, so . . . she took off the demure little frock she had worn for registration then as an after-thought, took off her bra and panties as well. Her lithe young body had matured during the summer. The high firm breasts were riper, the flowing arc of her hips fuller. She was definitely a woman now, in every sense of the word, but she had lost none of her dancer's suppleness.
She performed several graceful entrechats in front of the mirror, leaping lightly into the air and beating her feet together several times before they touched the floor again. Then she raised one slim leg until it was almost parallel with her torso, holding the smoothly muscled calf in both hands and slowly pivoted on her other foot. The golden bush between her thighs seemed to catch fire and blaze in the mellow afternoon light. She was completely tanned from head to toe because she and Randall, alone or with others, had returned many times to the hidden little valley where they could romp like savages in perfect freedom and privacy.
She went to her closet and, after a moment's reflection, took out a vanilla-colored smock-like shirtdress, slipping into it just as she was. She hummed happily as she buttoned it up the front, nothing with pleasure how the cool elegant fabric molded her bare breasts. She wondered what Richard would think when he saw her bra-less. He would probably be very shocked. She could just see his sandy eyebrows raising in patrician disapproval. Poor Richard, he had so much to learn!
As she was leaving the dormitory, someone called out her name in a warm contralto voice which sounded so much like Hedy's that Susanna's heard leaped for joy. She spun around to see a striking auburn-haired girl looking at her admiringly. She knew the girl slightly ... her name was Nancy Carr . . . and had heard rumors that she was very fast with boys. That was one of the reasons Susanna had never been very friendly with her in the past.
"You're looking simply gorgeous, Susanna," Nancy said. "You must have had a wonderful summer."
"Yes. I did, Nancy," Susanna replied. On a sudden impulse, she went to the other girl and embraced her, feeling the resilient thrust of her large firm breasts against her own. Their lips touched fleetingly, then she drew back. Intuitively, Susanna knew that she had found a new friend, someone to temporarily replace Hedy. She smiled into Nancy's greenish, almost-shaped eyes. "Does it really show that much?"
"Well, it shows, if you know," the other girl returned her smile. "We must get together some evening."
"I'd love to," Susanna said. "I'm in twelve B."
"My friend David . . . David St. John ... is taking me out to dinner tomorrow night," Nancy suggested. "Perhaps you could join us if you haven't already got a date."
"No, no date," Susanna assured her.
"Shall I ask David to bring someone along for you?" Nancy asked. "I heard last year that you and Professor Howell..."
"That's finished," Susanna laughed. "At least, it's almost finished. I'm on my way to see him now."
"Oh ..." Nancy nodded with an understanding gleam in her eyes. "Well, take it easy on him, dear. The English department might have trouble finding a replacement at this late date."
"Don't worry; he'll survive," Susanna grinned. "And thanks for the invitation. See you tomorrow evening."
"About seven," Nancy said. "Bye, Susanna."
"Bye," Susanna called back warmly. It was strange, she mused as she walked slowly across the campus toward Richard's house. It was strange how she sometimes felt this intimate current of understanding with other women .. . and they were invariably women who passionately loved men. She knew she could never feel anything for a lesbian, a woman who loved only other women, but she had grown to love Hedy as dearly as a sister. There had been times when they made love together that had been just as satisfying, in a completely different way, as making love with a man. It was just a question of the proper balance, Susanna supposed. A woman always needed a man, but there were times when she needed another woman, too.
She spotted Richard's tall ungainly figure hurrying across the campus toward his house from another angle and slowed her pace so that he would arrive there before her. She didn't really have any plan of action, but she assumed it would be easy enough to seduce Richard and easier still to leave him begging for more. Perhaps that was bitchy, but she had never forgotten the contorted look of hatred on his bony face when he threw her out of the house ... all because she had believed his lies for two years and hadn't been able to respond when he suddenly revealed his true nature.
Just as she was about to turn up the steps to the porch of his house, Richard burst out of the front door with a shopping bag in his hand.
"What the hell are you doing here!" he barked peevishly. "I told you I never wanted to see you again."
"Oh, I just came for my raincoat," Susanna smiled sweetly up at him. "I forgot it last spring, remember?"
"It's right where you left it," he snapped. "Go in and get it." Then he bounded awkwardly down the porch steps three at a time and walked past her without a word.
"Bastard!" Susanna muttered under her breath as she watched him turn a corner, obviously heading for the nearby shopping center. He hadn't even really looked at her. Frowning, she went up the steps, pushed open the door and walked down the hall. Her raincoat was there all right, but what the hell was she going to do now? She could sit down and wait for Richard to return, but that would be humiliating and wouldn't serve her purpose at all.
She became aware of a faint drumming sound upstairs, and suddenly a muffled baritone burst into joyful song. It must be Tom Barton, Susanna realized, singing in the shower. She remembered what Richard had said about Tom having a secret crush on her and a little smile curved her full, pouting lips. Perhaps she could use Tom to get even. Why not? she asked herself. There was certainly no harm in trying. She took her raincoat from the hook, walked back to the front door and let herself fall to the floor with a loud thump.
"Heelllppp!" she cried in a shrill piercing voice. The singing upstairs stopped immediately, and the house was silent. "Help," she cried again in a feebler voice.
Still dripping wet from his shower, Tom Barton came leaping down the stairs with just a towel tied around his middle. "Susanna!" he exclaimed, "what happened!"
"I... I don't know," the young blonde faltered pathetically. "I must have fainted ... I blacked out."
"Here, let me help you. Come in the living room," Tom said. He lifted her to her feet and led her toward the couch. He was much more muscular than Richard and a lot handsomer, Susanna realized. Formerly, with her mixed-up values, she had thought Richard was the most distinguished, elegant-looking man in the world and had written Tom off as being too much of the jock-type to have any real brains. He had a reputation around the campus as being quite a ladies' man.
"Richard isn't here," Tom said when he had installed her on the couch. "But he'll be back soon. Excuse me; I'll go put some clothes on."
"Could you give me a drink first, Tom?" Susanna asked quickly, wondering just how brazen she dared be with him. "I feel a little shaky."
"Scotch?" Tom asked.
"On the rocks," she nodded.
At this he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked down at her with a little smile. Then he went to the kitchen and soon returned with two drinks.
"Sit down here beside me, Tom," Susanna said, patting a place near her on the couch. "I saw Richard on the street. He didn't even say hello to me. Just told me to go in and get my raincoat and leave."
"He mentioned something about a little quarrel," Tom admitted vaguely as he handed her the drink and sat down beside her. "I'm afraid I've gotten your dress all wet."
Susanna took a sip of her drink and decided not to beat around the bush any longer. She looked Tom straight in the eye and said, "I could take it off."
"I suppose you could," Tom said with a little smirk. "And if Richard just happened to walk in, it would serve him right. Is that the idea?"
"Yes," Susanna replied. She reached up under his towel and quickly caught the shaft of his hardening cock in her hand. Hefting what she felt, she found it to her liking. It couldn't match Randall's or Tony's, but it was young and lusty and a lot bigger than Richard's long thin member which once she had found so enormous. Eagerly, she yanked away the towel and let her eyes feast on the sight of the twitching swelling rod of flesh rising up from his hairy crotch before lowering her golden head to take it in her mouth.
"Jesus Christ!" Tom groaned as he watched her ovalled lips slide over the bulging head of his penis and halfway down its throbbing length. "Richard said you wouldn't fuck."
Susanna raised her 'head with a strong suction of her mouth so that his now rock-hard member popped from her mouth with a loud lewd slurp. "He didn't know how to make me," she answered with a wicked smile. Her tongue flicked out to daintily scoop up the tiny droplet of cum gleaming in the tip of the blood-gorged head, then she lowered her mouth to take the whole wildly pulsating shaft deep into her throat. Up and down she went on his convulsively jerking cock, taunting it with the tip of her tongue until he groaned, "Come on, Susanna; let's fuck. Get that dress off!"
She leaped up and with flying fingers unbuttoned her shirt-dress while Tom painfully squeezed the head of his penis in his hand to keep from shooting his load right then and there. When she stood naked in front of him in all her bronze glory, he grabbed her to him and began nipping the soft flesh of her belly, her flanks, her breasts, all over, like a wild animal. Unable to hold back any longer, he twisted her under him on the couch and slid between her openly splayed legs. Instantly, her slender fingers closed over his frantically jabbing rod and guided it between the moist, sparsely haired lips of her dilating cunt.
"Mmmmmm," she murmured deliriously, closing her eyes and beginning a gentle undulation of her hips as his hard solid cock began to piston slowly at first, then more rapidly, in and out of her snugly clasping vagina. Soon his balls were smacking into the wide-split crevice between her buttocks, teasing her tiny puckered anus with every stroke, and in her sensual abandon, she had completely forgotten the motive behind her actions when a nasal voice twanged nastily right above her.
"Is this little performance all for my benefit? Really, Susanna, I'd never have believe you could be such a bitch! And, really, Tom, I'd never have believe you could be such an ass! Don't you see she's just using you to get even with me?"
Susanna opened her eyes without ceasing the rotary motion of her hips and looked dreamily up at the pale bony face glaring down at her. "Go away, Richard, you silly old poop," she said.
"Silly poop!" the tall gaunt professor exploded. "I'll silly poop you, you cunt! Get off her, Tom."
"Don't get your balls in an uproar," the other man growled. "This is some hot pussy, and there's plenty of it for both of us. I knew what she was doing, and I thought we'd give her a little lesson she won't forget right away. Take off your clothes, Richard. We'll sandwich the little bitch!"
"What! What on earth are you talking about?" Richard snapped waspishly.
"You fuck her up the ass while I fuck her cunt, for Chrissakes," Tom grunted. "Or the other way around if you'd rather."
"Is that possible," the astonished professor asked incredulously. Then his bony features twisted with sadistic pleasure as he answered his own question. "I suppose it is," he mused out loud. "How would you like that, Susanna, dear? How would you like my nice hard cock up your rectum? After all, you wouldn't let me put it in your cunt before. I believe it would be poetic justice. Put her on the floor, Tom," he ordered with sudden enthusiasm, beginning to hastily throw off his clothes.
"Ohhh, nooooo! You'll kill me!" Susanna wailed with feigned terror as Tom slid out of her and lifted her off the couch onto the floor. If only they knew... she thought to herself, remembering how Randall and Tony had initiated her into this particular variation of sex on one long blissful afternoon in the secluded little valley high in the mountains above the sea. Randall and Tony, she thought wistfully. She'd really been spoiled. She looked up at the two erect cocks now jutting from the naked loins of the men standing above her. Tom's was of a fair size, but poor Richard's was pitifully thin, just like the rest of him. Oh well, she consoled herself as the two professors lay down on the floor, one in front and the other behind, at least it was better than a finger.
She reached down and steered Tom's slippery lust-swollen member back into her expectantly quivering vagina while Richard fumbled feverishly with her buttocks. At last, she felt the hard rubbery cone of his long thin penis pressing against the tight puckered ring of her anus and braced herself for the short-lived flash of pain which always accompanied any penetration there. It was better this way, she thought. It was less bitchy. Richard would be proud of himself, thinking that he had really punished her, and he and Tom would remain good friends. She need never see them again. Tomorrow night there would be Nancy Carr and David St. John who, she instinctively knew, were her kind of people. She wondered what kind of boy David would bring for her. It promised to be an interesting school year.
"Uuuuuunnnggghhh!" she groaned, half in pain, half in amusement as the tall bony professor lunged against her buttocks and his long thin cock skewered up into the depths of her rectum. Long live the English Department, she mused, as the two men established an alternate fucking rhythm and began to batter her back and forth between them. Long live the English Department!
