In the course of a lifetime, perhaps the most difficult, the most trying and uncertain period is that of the teen years. A teenager is a person in limbo no longer a child enveloped in the security of a self-centered existence where all decisions are made and all burdens borne by one's parents, and yet not an adult with the satisfaction of total responsibility for one's actions.
Shannon Salter, pretty fourteen year old star of The Wild Urge, is no exception. Caught in the years between twelve and twenty, she is badly in need of a guiding hand, and least desires one. Suddenly aware that the world is not as pure and simple as it once seemed, and her parents not the ultimate repository of all perfect knowledge, she is in the process of rebelling against everything perhaps too quickly and too decisively in an attempt to rely on only her own judgment.
Parents are rejected, old values tossed off without a second thought, and in their place comes the law of the peer group. Struggling to become an individual, her identification with the group gives her the temporary confidence to take another step. The new values are group values; what the group wears, says, thinks and does is the only measure of importance in a life trying to find a direction. For, after all, fellow teenagers are well acquainted with the problems, the loneliness and self-consciousness. They understand the horrible attacks of insecurity and yearning, while parents are such know-it-alls who obviously haven't done a very good job of sorting out their own lives.
All perfectly logical to a disturbed teenager. But what she, Shannon, and many others, can't see, is that the undertow is much stronger than she thought, and she hasn't learned to swim well enough yet. In all too short a time, she finds herself swept beyond the breakers and unable to get back to shore.
Even with loving parents who warn of the dangers and are always there on the beach to rescue the founderer, a child can still run into trouble. But with parents like Shannon's, the end is inevitable. An alcoholic father who sees his life slipping away and has no energy to stop it, and a chain-smoking mother who resents her pretty daughter's promising future when her own so long ago turned sour two people so caught up in their own ruined lives can hardly offer help, consolation or guidance.
What happens to troubled young Shannon Salter has happened in different ways to countless other unhappy, searching teens who grew up too fast. This is the frightening fact which compels us, the publishers, to present this upsetting novel to the public. If nothing else, we hope it will help our readers to be more finely attuned to the messages in even one teenager's clouded eyes.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Balancing a little awkwardly on a chair in her cork-soled platform shoes, fourteen year old Shannon Salter gave herself a final once-over in the mirror of her bedroom dresser. She had begged her mother to buy her a full length mirror, but the request had fallen on deaf ears. A satisfied smile came to her carefully painted lips, done blood red in keeping with the 30's look. She was sure it was the right style for an appearance at the Glendale High Friday night Hi-Y event. These weekly affairs that combined sports events and records hops had been started by the local Y.M.C.A. to please the older generation by keeping kids off the streets; but when attendance had fallen to zero, some progressive adults in the community had decided to add live rock groups to save the program.
This Friday night it was even more important than usual that she look her best, for Don Allen, the star of Music USA, would be on stage to introduce his rock-band contest winners which just happened to be a local Glendale group. It was the first time that anyone could remember a famous personality coming to perform there. Even though it was a suburb of Los Angeles, Glendale had the reputation of being super square, and therefore the last possible town where you would expect to see a famous young band promoter. But Don Allen himself looked like the image of establishment values, and maybe that's why he was willing to perform.
Running one newly-manicured hand over her form-fitting hip huggers, Shannon felt satisfied at how flat her tummy was, and how promising her bust looked. Up until recently, she had suffered because she was still flat-chested, but lately she had started filling out just where she wanted to. Her breasts had enlarged even in the last month, she observed, reaching up under her midriff top to tease her nipples so they would tighten and poke out against the knit fabric of her orange top. Her breasts still weren't as big as her girlfriend Debbie's, but they were set higher and stuck out straight, especially when she wasn't wearing a brassiere, like tonight.
The face that Shannon saw reflected in her mirror pleased her too. The new beige eye shadow and dark brown eye liner she had bought at Newberry's really had transformed her large brown eyes into something spectacular, especially after she had painstakingly mascaraed her lashes, both upper and lower, to set off her naturally almond-shaped eyes. Around her carefully made-up face, her straight brown hair was pulled severely over her ears, then held at the back with an elastic band. Only the ends had a tiny bit of curl, accomplished with the blow dryer which Poppa had given her for Christmas. He was really a sweetie most of the time...not at all like Mom.
At the thought of her mother, the young girl's face tightened. It didn't matter how "with it" and trendy she looked if Mom wouldn't let her out the door; and that's exactly what had happened last Friday. She had worn a pair of leather pants borrowed from a girlfriend, and her unsympathetic mom had come unglued because she claimed to be able to see the crack between her daughter's buttocks when she bent over. Nothing Shannon could say, including a sarcastic crack about how she wasn't planning to spend the evening doing toe-touches, would convince her mother that she didn't look like a floozy. By then she had committed herself to an attitude of defiance, so instead of changing clothes, she had stubbornly cried herself to sleep in her bedroom without going out at all.
But tonight was much too important to risk blowing it! In order to avoid a similar scene this evening, the pretty adolescent had decided to put on an old sweater before going in to say goodbye to her parents. She had even calculated that for once the TV would do her a service. In the dim light of the family room, her eye make-up might not be so noticeable. Cripe! Always watching television. Shannon couldn't figure out why her parents never wanted to do anything, never had any friends over, and never seemed to have any fun. She knew that if she were free to do as she liked, she'd be going out somewhere every night of the week. They act older than my grandparents, it seemed. She thought of Poppa's parents who invited her for holidays in Bakersfield occasionally. At least they got their kicks out of going to swap meets and fixing up the old junk they bought. It may not have been to her taste, but at least they were active.
If I'm like my folks when I'm thirty-five, I hope somebody shoots me, she thought in disgust as she bounced down the stairs and into the family room. She glanced at her father's little pot belly and the total absence of expression in his eyes as he stared at the commercial on the screen. And there was her mother, dragging on a cigarette and flicking the ash in an already overflowing ashtray. A sick feeling gripped the teenager's stomach as she shook her head slightly in open contempt.
"Well, I'm on my way, folks...I'll be home by eleven," she declared in a voice calculated to sound like that of a loving daughter.
Sally Salter turned her head around to stare at her petite daughter, a momentary reaction of irritation on her face at the sight of the girl's self-confident expression. I'd like to slap that sassy smirk right off her painted little face, the thirty-five year old woman thought to herself, grinding out her cigarette. She surveyed Shannon from her made-up face down to the wide bottoms of her jeans on which the young girl had appliqu'd a cuff of fabric in a print design showing rock stars. The extra length had enabled her to get another year's wear out of a pair of pants she had outgrown, so there was little her mother could say in criticism.
"On your way?" she snapped. "And just where do you think you're on your way to, young lady?"
Shannon couldn't help reacting at her mother's authoritative tone. "I told you," she answered. "I told you yesterday. I'm going to the Hi-Y at Glendale High with Debbie." One of the many advantages was that the events still included volleyball and folk dancing, so she didn't actually have to admit that she was going to a rock concert.
"Hi-Y? You look more like you're going out to apply for a job as a "B" girl!"
Shaken from a peaceful fantasy by the harpy quality of his wife's voice, Bob Salter's eyes refocused, away from the colored screen images of escape onto the shrewish reality of his wife. In his reverie, he had taken a TV commercial shot on a beach in Hawaii and superimposed a beautiful woman who looked the way Sally had when they'd married fifteen years ago. Now, and not for the first time, the already-graying store manager had found himself wondering how Sally could have changed so much in such a few years. He himself still felt relatively young, and the face that looked back from the bathroom mirror when he shaved was still identifiable as the same guy he had been then, though perhaps a little heavier.
But Sally! He gazed at her thinning hair and aging complexion, seeing in his mind's eye the gold pleated shorts and tight blue sweater she had worn when she was a high school song leader. Sally had a slim body then, but well rounded breasts and buttocks, the husband thought distractedly, just like Shannon has now. He was unaware of his daughter's make-up or clothing as he concentrated for a moment on her increasingly voluptuous figure which even the bulky cardigan could not succeed in disguising.
"If you think you're leaving this house with your face painted up like that, you've got another think coming!" Mrs. Salter continued, her jealousy masking itself with self-righteousness; and she felt herself boiling for reasons that even she knew were exaggerated out of all proportion. "Just look at this hussy that calls herself our daughter," she added, turning to her husband.
Bob sighed. He'd been hoping to remain uninvolved, for he saw the uselessness of these family fights that only seemed to tear the two women in his life further apart. He had heard someone talking during a coffee break at work about a book that taught people how to fight constructively. He wondered what the hell that was all about, and was sorry for a minute that he never read anything except the sports page.
Scrutinizing his teenage daughter once again, he found his irritation increasingly turning to sympathy. What on earth did his little girl need make-up for? She was pretty enough already. But she had done a nice job of putting the stuff on, and he couldn't see what a big difference it made.
"Now, Shannon," the sandy-haired man started in his usual unemotional way, "I don't see that there's any need to get all shook up about this. I'm sure you just got a little carried away, didn't you, honey?" He had said it with a smile, but one that turned to embarrassment as soon as he met her hate-filled eyes. Still he went on, this time directing his comments toward his wife. "She probably had a bad light in her bedroom and didn't see how much of the stuff she put on."
Mrs. Salter felt her rage mounting at this overt lack of support from her husband. Why did he always have to act so wishy-washy? she fumed to herself as she lit a cigarette, aware that she was overreacting, but hardly able to turn off her tirade now that she had gone so far. Why does he always stick up for that foolish girl if he had his way, he'd have spoiled her rotten from the day she was born. It's a good thing I always managed to get my two cents worth in.
"Bad light, my foot," she snapped, returning from her private thoughts. "Take a good look at her, Bob. She looks like a cheap little strumpet. Why, the neighbors will be talking for a week."
"I'm sure Shannon'll be happy to run upstairs to wash off some of the makeup," Bob said ineffectually, wishing like hell that he were miles away from this new tract house whose mortgage held him prisoner as successfully as if he'd been behind bars. "Won't you, Shannon?"
The fourteen year old girl continued to glare in stubborn silence at her parents. She hesitated to speak, for fear of losing control, either in tears, or by letting go with some remark that would make her mother so furious that she'd cancel the evening's plans. Even Poppa was betraying her, although he was seemingly taking her side. Why couldn't he ever show some real guts instead of just accepting whatever nasty, dumb thing Mom said?
"Well, don't just stand there! What does Poppa's little darling have to say for herself?" Sally Salter snapped at her daughter, getting even more pleasure from seeing the despair on Shannon's face than from the cigarette smoke that she sucked deeply into her lungs.
When Sally had been a teenager, life had been a nightmare, and there had never been any extra money. She had had to work after school in a drive-in and on weekends helping her mother in the house. Only as an adult did she learn that the family had not really been poor, and that her minister father had managed to accumulate large holdings in real estate while forcing his family to wear second-hand clothes. Perhaps that helped to make her even more bitter, more aware of having been cheated; and she remembered at one time how she had wanted her daughter to have an easier life.
During her high-school days, the only normal-looking thing she had to wear was her song-leading uniform; so she couldn't help feeling jealous and inferior to the other girls in their long pleated skirts and cashmere sweaters. Every afternoon at the drive-in, she'd carry heavy trays in her tight red work uniform and silly lace hat and serve hamburgers and malts to the snobbish kids who were flirting with each other in flashy convertibles.
When Bob Salter, a football player from Pasadena City College had shown an interest in her, she'd been happy for the first time in her life. The day they were married, Sally privately celebrated her release from the oppressive conditions of her childhood and the beginning of an exciting new life as a married woman. But it hadn't quite worked out that way; at least not for more than a few months. She'd gotten pregnant right away, and was wonderfully excited about it. Motherhood was a way of becoming a really important person, and all the attitude she got from people during that time intensified her attitude. She proudly started wearing maternity clothes in her third month, and just couldn't wait until someone gave her a baby shower.
But after the baby was born, she had to spend all her time washing diapers and trying to keep their dingy little apartment straightened up, and nobody seemed to think she was special any more. By the time Shannon was in school, her mother realized that she'd lost her firm young breasts, and that her once shining hair had already started to thin out. Her life was a total disappointment.
It was clear by now too that her husband was never going to attain the success that one always expects of a college football hero. His job as assistant manager at Leonard's discount department store might have had a future if he had shown any real ambition, but Bob didn't seem interested in or capable of moving up. For years he had refused to buy a house, because the mortgage represented what he called "an anchor on his ass". It was only after Shannon was in junior high that Sally had sold him on the importance of their having a good address in order for their daughter to go to the right senior high school. If she went to Hoover High, like most of the kids from their old neighborhood, there was no telling who she might start going around with.
"Oh, Daddy, everyone wears eye make-up!" Shannon appealed to her father, jolting her mother back from her painful recollections. "I'll look like a creep if I don't!"
"You're better off looking like a creep than a slut," her mother countered. "And I don't know why you want to hang around with a girl like Debbie Fuller just because she was at your old school. Don't you realize how much we're sacrificing so you can go to a school in a part of town where you'll meet the right type of people?"
No! Shannon wanted to scream to her parents. No, I'm not grateful. I hate that new school where everyone's so "posh" and too snobbish to talk to me, except Debbie. But the proud young girl didn't like to admit how afraid and insecure she felt. She just mumbled under her breath, "Debbie's my friend, and I don't care if you like her or not!"
"You'd better watch your attitude or you'll be staying home tonight," her mother threatened. And her anger increased as a result of the thoughts that had just disturbed her. What Shannon was saying sounded like Sally herself talking almost twenty years ago. And she knew she was disappointed inside that the move had not enabled her daughter to get into the establishment crowd in her last year at Wilson Junior High. She blocked it all from her mind. "You've been going out more than a girl your age should do anyway."
"What am I supposed to do sit around here watching the 'idiot box'? " Shannon exploded, staring pointedly at the TV, then at an open carton of Cheese-its, and finally at the cigarette butt in her mother's hand which she was using to light the next in an all-day chain. It was too late to consider the consequences of her heated words.
"You'd better not talk to me that way, young lady! Bob, did you see the look she just gave me? Are you going to let her get away with that?" Sally's face had tensed, deepening even further the vertical furrow between her eyebrows. The unspoken reference to her inability to control her smoking even under doctor's orders hit closer to home than anything else Shannon could have done.
Jesus Christ! What am I supposed to say? Anything I do just makes things worse, the confused husband thought, trying to remain detached by refusing to look squarely at his wife and daughter as he spoke. How the fuck did all this start anyway? Oh, yeah. Shannon's make-up.
"I'm sure Shannon didn't mean anything personal, Sally," he calmed his frowning wife. "I'm sure she'll apologize for making a face at you and then run up and wash. Won't you, Shannon?"
"Yes, Poppa," the fourteen-year-old replied in a low measured voice. She longed to tell them both what she thought of them, but tonight was too important. It would be her only chance to see Don Allen and to hear the winning rock group. "I'm sorry, Mother," she managed in a flat tone.
"You'd better be sorry, young lady!" Sally Salter harped after the retreating of her daughter, then fell back on the couch. Her whole body was shaking with fury and near-hatred for her only child who, such a short time ago, had been the baby who would change her life and give it meaning.
"Why didn't you tell her she couldn't go out?" she turned and challenged her husband. "She's just going to get worse and worse if you can't control her. And there's nothing more I can do," Sally raised her arms in a theatrical gesture of failure, accented by the newly-lit extra-long cigarette in her right hand. "She won't even pretend to listen to anything I tell her anymore!"
There was a sound of feet hurrying down the stairs and then the deliberate bang of the front door to punctuate her departure. Bob turned his head toward the picture window to watch his daughter's long jean-clad legs racing down the sidewalk, her shiny brown hair streaming out behind her in the early evening light. For a moment he envied her. He too yearned to escape the disappointment which the purchase of the house only emphasized. At least in their old apartment he could fool himself into believing that Sally would change if she had a nice place to live. He had gone heavily into debt to buy it, and now he yearned to escape from the wife whom he no longer loved. Had he, in fact, ever loved her? It was hard to imagine how he could have; and as he turned now to stare at her indignant face and the cigarette which had become an integral part of it, he didn't even want to try.
"I didn't tell her to stay in," he replied with an unusual show of spirit, "because I couldn't stand to hear you two bitching all evening. A man's entitled to a little peace and quiet in his own house!"
"Well, you don't have to sound as though it's my fault. She's your daughter too, after all, and if you don't watch out, she'll be coming home one of these days asking you to pay for an abortion. Really, Bob, I...."
"For Christ's sake, just drop it, huh, Sally?" Bob interrupted. He rose and headed toward the bar which they had paid extra to have installed, and leaned on the imitation rosewood counter. "You want a drink?"
"No, I'm going to bed," his wife replied in a voice designed to make him feel guilty for finding relaxation in alcohol. Well, I don't feel guilty' he told himself, pouring some Four Roses into a glass, adding a few ice cubes: and then as an afterthought, splashing in a bit of ginger ale from an almost empty bottle in the tiny refrigerator. I don't give a damn what she thinks!
"Good night," he muttered.
Stretching down in his Barkalounger, Bob watched Sally move from the room, her amply-fleshed buttocks twitching with indignation. She had been such a good-looking gal once, but now he couldn't muster up the least twinge of desire to touch her, even when he made an effort to get himself turned on. He noted that she clutched the remains of a pack of Kents, probably her third, in one hand and her lighter in the other.
That's just fine! he thought bitterly. That's just great! The happy family she's in bed with her goddamn weeds reading a cheap novel, and little Shannon's evening is spoiled, and me? Me, I'm sitting here watching my life disappear as surely as the rye is vanishing from the glass. I wish I could get a decent piece of ass.
Taking a long sip of the sense-dulling alcohol, Bob once again fell into his dream world of sun-drenched Waikiki, palm trees on the horizon, surfers in the ocean, and the delicious girl from the last commercial who looked a lot like Shannon lying beside him laughing up into his eyes. I wonder what Shannon's going to look like at the beach this summer? he wondered. She's really not a little girl anymore. Doubt if Sally will let her buy a bikini. He felt he hardly knew his pretty daughter any longer, and this so got to Bob emotionally that he stood up and poured himself a second drink, this time no ginger ale.
CHAPTER TWO
The Glendale High School "cafetorium" was even more crowded than Shannon had expected it would be. She'd run all the way there-almost a mile and arrived panting and perspiring to find her friend Debbie still waiting impatiently for her outside the building which served as a cafeteria during school hours.
"Where've you been?" the sixteen year old bottle-redhead demanded, appraising her friend's outfit and smiling her approval. "Gee, that's a neat midriff. It really shows your tits. How'd your mom ever let you outta the house in that?"
"She didn't see it," Shannon grinned. "But she did have a shit fit about my make-up," using a phrase she had picked up from Debbie. "That's why I'm late. Told her I'd wash it off, but I got out without doing it. Did the show start already?"
"Nope, but it will...in five minutes. You're just in time. Have you got your Hi-Y card?"
"Yeah, here it is."
"I saw the rock group go in the back, and they're really outta this world, especially Carl."
"Carl? I thought we were going to see Don Allen."
"Well, we are, silly. But Carl's the lead guitarist with the Salt Eagle. They're the ones that got the prize for the whole west coast in Don Allen's contest, so they get to travel around the country and appear on his TV variety show every week for a whole season."
Debbie made it her business to know the names and instruments of every rock musician from the newest unknowns to real stars like Crosby, Stills, and Nash. And she liked to parade her knowledge in front of her slightly younger girl friend. "Everyone knows Carl, and he's fabulous. In another year, he's going to be more famous than Don Allen himself."
"Yeah?" Shannon breathed, her huge brown eyes widening.
The two adolescents made their way into the densely-packed temporary discotheque, forcing their way through the hot noisy throng until they stood almost in front of the low stage. A few hastily-arranged psychedelic lights and the taped beat of an old Beatles hit had already been having its effect on the blood pressure of the crowd when the large hall suddenly went black. Instantly a white spotlight followed Don Allen from the side of the stage and served to highlight his clean American good looks.
Shannon would not have been willing to admit it to Debbie, who called any guy square if his hair didn't reach his shoulders, but she found the young blond emcee very attractive, far more appealing than on his TV show. Even her parents watched his show sometimes, and maybe that's what had turned her off before. He always seemed to be a little goody-goody to her then, with his icky love songs and those commercials telling people to drink Coke. But in this setting he was different.
She noticed how broad his shoulders were as soon as he took off his navy blazer and draped it over a chair. He looked so self-assured and mature, standing there in a white turtleneck sweater. And yet she knew from an article in a magazine that he was only twenty.
She hardly heard what he said about the Salt Eagle, how proud he was to come to Glendale High to introduce the group in their own home town. It was the tone of his voice that mattered to Shannon: husky and soft and very masculine. She found herself jarred when he left the scene as the new group paraded onto the small stage; and she didn't even scream at the top of her lungs like most of the other young girls in the crowd.
The members of the Salt Eagle band strutted around on the small stage, smiling down in their most captivating manner at the shrieking teenagers until the roar had faded to a low murmur punctuated by an occasional scream here and there. This unusually enthusiastic audience excited the musicians who had been less than eager to return to a place that might make them feel like kids again. By the time they finally broke into their first number, a hard rock piece, it was clear to any knowledgeable listener that the group was giving one of the best performances of their brief career.
But Shannon and Debbie who by now had managed to shove their way up to the very front of the densely packed hall weren't aware of the quality of the music. The important thing, as far as they were concerned, was the mood of electrical excitement generated by the band, and the visual intensity of flashing strobe lights. Even the audience seemed transformed. Everyone had on his newest, wildest outfit, and lots of kids were obviously high on wine or grass or both. The last time she had been here, Shannon had seen several senior high kids smoking joints out in the parking lot, and she had heard that many of the boys brought small plastic flasks of vodka in their pockets to add to the Bubble-Up and Cokes that were sold at the Hi-Y bar. These forbidden doings fascinated and strangely excited the inexperienced young girl.
Most of the time, Shannon Salter felt painfully inadequate among the other junior high seniors. She was all too aware of the low position on the totem pole granted to a shy, insignificant girl with no special talents and not much money. Here at the concert though, no one seemed to care that she'd once lived on the wrong side of town. For all the senior high kids knew, she could have already been a freshman that they just didn't happen to know. And besides, everyone here was accepted as part of the group by virtue of their mutual reaction to the magical spell of the pounding rock music.
"Gosh, this band's super!" Debbie gasped to her girl friend as the first number ended and the musicians paused to catch their breath. "Wasn't I right about Carl...he's out of this world!"
"Yeah, he sure is," Shannon agreed, partly to please Debbie. She ran her still stunningly made-up eyes up and down the tall singer's lean body.
"I love his clothes!" Debbie murmured, her voice almost worshipful as she examined every detail of the skintight suede trousers, his suede shirt slashed to the waist, and his high-heeled boots. "Oh, he's just too much, Shannon. It's not his clothes so much as what he's got underneath them," Debbie giggled. "Look at how he moves...." her voice faded to a whisper as she watched the pop star wander over to say something to the piano player.
"Oh, Debbie!" Shannon was a little shocked by her older friend's frankness. She'd been thinking the same thing herself, but she'd never have said it out loud.
The buxom redhead saw that she'd shocked Shannon and decided to impress her even further. "If you just knew half the stories I've heard about him personally.. . " she began teasingly.
"What do you mean?"
"Well.. . I don't know if I should tell you."
"Come on...I bet you don't know anything!" Shannon always resented it when her friend treated her as though she were born yesterday. After all, Debbie was only one year older than she was, or maybe almost two; but still that was no reason for her to try to act so uppity. And anyway, if she was all that smart, why was she taking remedial math? "You're just making it all up!" Shannon retorted in a tone of total disgust.
"You think so?" Debbie bristled. "Listen, you just don't talk to anyone in this town. This guy doesn't just look sexy he does it!"
Although Shannon was not quite sure just what her more sophisticated girl friend was talking about, she could feel little forbidden tingles of excitement running up and down her back. "Wh-What do you mean?" she asked for the second time.
"Well, for one thing, a girl I know heard in a beauty shop that up in San Francisco...." Debbie began, licking her lips in delight. But before she could convey the gory details to her curious young friend, the band once again broke into song and drowned out her words.
Although Shannon didn't find him nearly as attractive as Don Allen, she was intrigued by Debbie's salacious hints about Carl. She found herself unable to take her eyes off the guitarist as he contorted on the stage in rhythm to the strong beat of the music. The group had launched into an updated version of an old rock hit that was enjoying a revival. Carl was able to show off his spectacular lean body to full advantage by gyrating his hips in an obscene parody of rock's very first star. As she watched the dynamic new star swaggering before her, Shannon felt as though she were about to pass out. It wasn't because of him. She was still thinking about Don Allen and wondering if he really had been looking at her, actually gazing into her eyes. She'd felt sure of it just before he'd left the stage. The surge of excitement, heightened by the erotic beat of the music, had spread all through the young girl's body by now; and although the room was overheated, she began to shiver.
When the music ended, she tugged at her girl friend's arm. "Tell me what you know about Carl." Shannon wasn't sure enough of her own tastes to admit that it was Don with the blond hair she was really thinking about.
"Gee, you've really got it on for him, don't you?" Debbie laughed. "I never saw you so hot about a guy before!"
"That's 'cause he's the most gorgeous man I ever saw," she continued, still playing her insecure game. "Come on, tell me what else you heard about him."
"Well...." Debbie began, "He's supposed to have had this orgy in his hotel room and made a girl do all these things
Shannon looked at her already hard-looking friend, a rather blank expression on her own elegant face. Once again, she wasn't sure she understood just what Debbie was getting at. She undoubtedly meant the sort of things she'd heard older girls giggling about in the dressing rooms in gym, the things that had been so vaguely explained in health class. Taking off your clothes, and kissing, and...and
"What tilings.' she blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity a moment longer.
"You know, dirty things!" Debbie giggled, glancing over her shoulder and half-hoping that the group of boys standing behind them had heard her reply.
"You don't have to talk so loud," Shannon whispered, her face flushing as she realized that the boys were elbowing each other and staring at Debbie. She really liked her uninhibited girl friend who didn't put on conceited airs like so many of their classmates, but she had to admit that sometimes the curvaceous redhead acted almost vulgar. Suddenly she didn't even want to hear what Debbie had to say about Carl. It was only cheap gossip from movie magazines anyway.
"First of all he made her get naked," Debbie continued, stressing the last word and again glancing at the boys. Then wriggling her well-rounded hips in a suggestive way. "And then...."
"I don't want to hear about it!" Shannon interrupted. "It's just a bunch of lies."
"That's what you think!" the voluptuous sixteen year old tossed her head in a gesture of superiority. "All the guys in these groups are like that. You should hear what my cousin Norma said about...."
Her spirited expose of Norma's misadventures at a Chicago rock concert was broken off by the sounds of Salt Eagle tuning up for their next number. Moments later, they began singing the old favorite, "Yesterday", a rock classic selected by Don Allen to sing himself along with the group. Carl was in the background now, consciously arranging his features into the lewd provocative smile which he knew pleased his audience and which was intended to steal the show from the straight young promoter-performer who controlled the success of new rock groups all across the U.S. To some extent he would succeed. Girls like Debbie would go out tomorrow and buy a Salt Eagle album; and tonight at least one of them would be more than willing to alleviate the pulsating ache in his virile cock.
Glancing down, the guitarist noted with satisfaction that his swollen penis was bulging out against his suede pants in a way that no girl in the audience could fail to notice.
Hood! he thought. That'll put their minds just where I want them! Wonder which of these hot little cunts I'm going to shove it into tonight.' There was nothing the twenty-two year old musician liked better than a nice piece of jail-bait, and the fact that he could get it whenever he wanted it was one of the best parts of his new profession.
But fourteen year old Shannon Salter was falling into a different trap. I wonder if Don Allen ever recorded that song. Then I could buy it and plav it at home and feel like I'm looking at him again, like he was looking at me! Poppa would give me the money.
Shannon was not even aware of the prominent swelling in the front of Carl's pants until Debbie pointed it out to her. For a moment she was irritated because it forced her to take her mind away from Don, and then she felt embarrassed. In spite of her sophisticated eye make-up and conscious flaunting of her emerging sexuality, Shannon was still an innocent little girl in many ways. She'd learned the basic sexual facts in school, all those Walt Disney films showing how your body works in cartoons, but she was aware that there was a lot that the teacher hadn't told them, if she even knew herself. Whenever Shannon got a chance, she tried to eavesdrop on older girls' conversations, but that didn't help much. They giggled more than anything else; and the things they did say were such a mixed-up combination of slang and innuendo that she usually couldn't make the slightest sense of what they were talking about. Debbie, her best girl friend, pretended to know all about sex, and maybe she did, but so far Shannon had been too frightened about admitting her own ignorance to ask the many questions that plagued her.
Now she tried to move her eyes from the growing bulge in the guitarist's form-fitting pants back to her memory of the handsome face of Don Allen who was now off in the wings.
She realized that she had never seen a man's penis. What color was it...what did it feel like when you touched it, soft or wet or what...what would it feel like when it was inside her own vagina? At this last thought, the young blonde felt the trembling sensation she'd noticed earlier concentrate itself up between her legs. It was wicked, thrillingly wicked; and for an instant she wished she were at home in her bedroom with the door securely locked so that she could unzip her jeans, spread her legs, and run her middle finger back and forth along the folds of her hair-fringed pussy and make herself feel good, the way she did almost every night before she fell asleep.
Instead of feeling shocked by her physical impulse, Shannon realized that she was more excited than ever. The idea that she was able to feel sexy like this just from looking at these two men was so satisfying that it made her feel all grown-up and self-confident. What would Mom think if she knew that my pussy was wet right now? she asked herself. She'd just die! Somehow the thought of defying her prudish mother even heightened the sensation!
The crowd had really come alive now, and kids were starting to go up on the platform and dance. Quickly someone asked Shannon to dance, which was not unusual. Several times senior high boys who didn't know she was still in junior high had asked her, and every time it was thrilling. But this evening she felt different from before, and she barely saw who she was dancing with, although she gyrated her slim hips with great energy. All she could think about was the sexually arousing guitarist and the young announcer who was even more desirable to her. Had he been looking at her while she danced?...did he think she was cute? what would it be like to dance with Don Allen? But he was just standing at the mike, not dancing with anyone.
Finally, the exhausted band members called for a fifteen minute break. Everyone who wasn't sneaking out to the parking lot to smoke a joint headed for the bar, and Shannon and Debbie were among the ones who stayed. The two pretty teenagers stood at one end of the long counter, Debbie eyeing a couple of long-haired seniors in sunglasses standing just beside them, and Shannon staring into space with an expression of detached ecstasy on her lovely face.
"Oh, Debbie!" she murmured to her friend. "He's too wonderful to be true!"
"I told you he would be!"
Without deciding to do so, Shannon was suddenly honest. "No, not Carl, Don Allen. Did you notice his eyes...they're deep brown, and with that blond hair and that tan...."
"You've got to be kidding. He's the one who tin ns you on?" Debbie responded. "Well, you're never gonna get a date with him. That's for sure.
He's probably saving it for the girl he marries, so you might as well pay attention to what's available instead."
"Why not?" Shannon mused. "Why shouldn't Don Allen ask me out? He's only twenty and I look at least sixteen. I'm sure he was staring at me a little while ago."
"Come off it!" her girlfriend sneered. "You really think he'd be interested in some junior high school kid. He can have any girl he wants, movie stars even. He doesn't need a little kid like you!"
Shannon's temper suddenly flared up. She was not a little kid, and she was tired of being treated like one, first by her parents and now by Debbie. I'll show them! she vowed to herself. All of them! A choking wave of resentment rose in her throat as she thought of the indifference with which she was treated at school, of the boys who'd dance with her at the Hi-Y and then ignore her in the morning if they passed each other on the way to school. Nobody ever sees the real me, she thought bitterly. Poppa and Mom and Debbie just see a stupid little kid. and nobody else even knows I exist. Well, I'll make them see me! I'll show everyone that I'm a real individual, an important person! Although she did not yet know just how she was going to bring all this about, the young brunette knew the answer was somehow tied up with her softly attractive face and developing figure. The simple decision to do this filled her with hope and self-confidence.
"I mean," Debbie continued, "he's gonna want a chick who's really stacked...and who's really with it...you know, a swinger!"
Something clicked in Shannon's brain and she knew just what she was going to do. She was going to get a date with Don Allen, the TV star; and after that, no one would ever dare to treat her like shit again. No, the word would get around school. She'd see to that and suddenly she'd be the most popular girl at school.
Without knowing exactly how to begin, she put her empty Coke bottle down on the bar and turned to her flirtatious girlfriend. "That's what you think!" she said. "You just wait and see!" And with that she spun around and, almost running, headed toward the exit of the cafetorium.
"Hey, Shannon," Debbie called after her. "Hey, don't get sore! I...." But Shannon was too far away to hear her by now, so Debbie just gave up and returned her attention to the boys beside her, who seemed distinctly uninterested.
The cool early spring night air was a relief after the oppressive, smoky atmosphere of the temporary discotheque. As Shannon stood just outside the door taking deep breaths, she tried to put together a course of action. Back there on the stage, she had been certain that Don Allen was staring at her and admiring the graceful movements of her slim body as she danced; but now she wasn't so sure. Doubts crept into her mind as she recalled Debbie's cutting words...."someone who's really stacked...." and she wondered if Don had just thought she was a skinny little kid, this is, if he had seen her at all. She tried to remember if her nipples had been out stiff. Maybe he had been looking at Debbie, who had very large breasts, although she was obviously pretty heavy all over.
"I don't know...I just don't know...." the troubled teenager muttered to herself. For an instant she was tempted to drop the whole plan and just go back inside; but then she thought of how Debbie would say, "I told you so!" and she knew that she had to try to meet Don, no matter how risky it might be. I'll find out where the performers come out, and I'll just wait there for him, she thought. And then when he sees me I'll.. . I'll.. . At this point her imagination gave out, but she decided to let nature take its course.
As soon as the last marijuana smokers had stumbled back into the hall. Shannon began to make her way around to the back of the large building. There were several doors in the back wall, but none of them were labeled; and there was no telling which of them Don Allen would come out of. Clutching her arms to her thinly-covered breasts and shivering in the wind that howled around the corner of the concrete building, Shannon considered for a moment abandoning her dream. It was just too cold to wait out here for Lord knew how long. The emptiness of the parking lot depressed her too, especially with the weird neon light. Sighing, she gave up and started back around the building toward the entrance.
Then, just as she was rounding the corner, she saw something that made her heart jump with excitement. A TV location van painted black and decorated with all the network insignias stood not more than three yards away from her. Wonderful! This would be where Don Allen came out eventually; and no matter how cold it was, she'd wait here until he came out of the cafetorium. If she stood just around the corner, the cold wind was blocked and the air felt almost comfortable. For a brief instant, she even thought her mother wasn't so stupid about insisting on her taking a sweater.
She'd been standing there for perhaps five minutes, her mind filled with tantalizing visions of the things Don Allen would say to her, when she heard a voice call out to her from the official truck.
"Hey, honey, whatcha doin' out there?" a rather bushy head appeared through the rolled-down window, smiling at her in a friendly way. "Aren't you freezing out there?"
Shannon was so surprised to see the unusual looking young man that she forgot to be shy. "I'm waiting for the concert to finish," she called back. "Who are you?"
"Well, you've got a long wait ahead of you...they don't finish for an hour, at least. Why don't you come sit in here with me where it's warm."
Shannon hesitated for a moment, unsure whether it was wise to get into a car with a total stranger. Still, this was the perfect way to be personally introduced to Don Allen. This boy must work for him, and he sounded friendly enough. Anyway, why not? So it was against her mother's warnings, but she'd never yet seen any good come from following any of her mother's advice.
"Gee, thanks," she smiled as she climbed up into the warm truck. "That wind's really turned cold."
"I'm Dave...Dave Tucker," the spectacled boy said, rubbing his wire-frame glasses clean on his shirttail to examine more efficiently his pretty catch. Nice tits...ain V wearing a bra...looks like cool stuff, he was thinking to himself. It was really lucky she'd come out so early, because usually the performers got first choice of the groupies. Tonight he was going to be first for a change, and this cute little number was a far sight better than the overweight acne-scarred dogs he was usually stuck with.
"I'm Shannon...Shannon Salter," the once again timid girl murmured, starting to feel awkward and overwhelmed at her own audacity.
"Wanna smoke?" asked Dave, noticing that the young girl seemed nervous and shy, and deciding that she probably wasn't really into this scene yet. I wonder if she knows what she's gotten herself into.' I'll get her stoned and ease her in painlessly, that's the best thing. Before she knows what's hit her. she'll be a hard-core groupie...but I'll have tasted her first! Maybe she's even a cherry! His cock began to throb against his Levi's at the thought, and he quickly extracted two joints from an ordinary-looking pack of cigarettes in the glove compartment.
"I...I don't usually smoke," Shannon admitted. In fact she found cigarettes disgusting because of her mother. She had only tried to smoke once to please Debbie and it had nauseated her. Now, though, as Dave did not retract the proffered cigarette, she decided that it would seem babyish to turn it down.
"Thanks," she said as he lit it for her and she drew in. Then she began to cough. Turning red with embarrassment, she forced herself to take another drag, and this time she managed to hold the smoke down without gagging. It almost tasted good, sweeter and milder than the Kents her mother smoked. Feeling encouraged by her apparent competence, she quickly took another drag, and then another.
Dave, puffing away on his own specially blended joint, didn't realize that the young brunette believed herself to be smoking ordinary tobacco. In fact, he was too occupied with the painful swelling of his imprisoned penis to think of much else. Still, he knew he shouldn't rush things with this timid youngster.
"How'd you like our truck?" he asked in a voice calculated to sound casual.
Shannon, who was feeling suddenly very relaxed and pleased with herself, looked around her. The inside of the vehicle was filled on one side with electronic equipment, and on the other with a foam mattress covered in rich red velvet.
"Wow," she murmured.
"We really dig it," Dave said, edging over closer to her and putting his arm around her slim shoulders. "Really gets us turned on!" Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he began a gentle kneading of his fingers along the girl's back. "Got music too," he added, switching on a cassette tape deck with his other hand.
It was a minute before Shannon was fully aware that Dave had his arm draped around her, for her mind seemed to be registering things more slowly than usual. Even after her senses had perceived his pressuring fingers, it took several minutes for her body to receive the brain's message telling her to move away from him. Her muscles were functioning in slow motion as well, and it took an amazing amount of energy to inch over toward the far side of the car seat. Sighing, the drug-dazed girl abandoned her effort and sank back against the soft velvet-covered seat. What was wrong, after all. with his putting his arm around her shoulders ' It felt sort of nice. It suddenly occurred to Shannon that this was a terribly important insight. If she made all her decisions on the basis of whether or not something made her feel good, life would be much less complicated.
"If it feels good, then I should do it," she murmured, not realizing that she's spoken aloud until the words echoed back to her surprised ears.
Dave smiled at the wide-eyed girl, amused by the naive excitement in her voice. He and the rest of the people he knew had accepted this notion for years, but it was obviously a new discovery for Shannon.
"Yeah, you can say that again. That's the way it is," he agreed, tightening his hold on her slender shoulders. "Couldn't take that bullshit any more, so I did what I wanted to do...drive Don Allen's truck, and get stoned and laid whenever I want! This is the life!"
Shannon considered his words as well as she was able and was surprised that someone as clean as Don Allen would even permit marijuana. Although it all sounded perfectly logical, a small corner of her brain still held to the notion that there must be a hitch somewhere in this code. She shook her long brown hair, wondering why she couldn't seem to control her mind, why it kept slipping out of focus, but she abandoned this train of thought as soon as Dave spoke again.
"Pretty good shit," he grinned down at her. "Want another joint?"
"J-Joint? You...you mean we're smoking m-marijuana?"
"Sure, honey, mixed with Marlboros, especially blended by yours truly," Dave grinned. He enjoyed the power of watching her pretty face cloud over with doubt and anxiety. "You like it?"
"I...I...." Shannon didn't know what to reply. This was the first time she'd tried the illegal, mind-expanding substance; and although she was aware that lots of the kids, even in junior high, used marijuana, she was still a little afraid. Nevertheless, she did like it it relaxed her, making her body feel all soft and warm and tingly. If what she'd said before about things that made you feel nice being good things, then marijuana was certainly okay.
"Yes, I guess I do like it," she admitted at last.
"Good!" he said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek as he handed her the second joint. God, her skin felt so soft! He could hardly wait to touch her tits and her round little ass.
Shannon inhaled deeply to cover up her embarrassment about the kiss. Don't be silly, she scolded herself. A kiss doesn't mean anything unless you're still thinking like a junior-high-school kid. You're with sophisticated people now. In spite of herself, though, his warm lips had ignited strange little flames of excitement deep within her trembling belly, and the dazed young girl felt a peculiar tingling moistness up between her legs. For the first time, she noticed how tightly the crotch of her jeans Fit, and she squirmed a little on the seat to alleviate the burning pressure of the seam against her pulsing vaginal lips.
Dave's eager eyes noted the uncomfortable undulations of Shannon's jean-clad buttocks at once, and a lewd half-smile started to play around his lips. Goddamn, she really was out of sight! The nicest piece of ass he'd seen in a month, and it was his for the taking!
Shannon took another drag on the acrid-tasting cigarette, feeling her head spinning around like a carousel. Suddenly her mouth felt so dry that she could barely swallow, and she thought she would die if she didn't get something to drink. When she heard Dave suggesting that they climb into the back of the panel truck on the mattress to have a bottle of Ripple, she was too relieved to be suspicious.
Dave quickly arranged the bed and helped the limp, confused young girl down upon it. Extracting a bottle of the sweet wine from a portable ice box in the comer, he sat down close beside her with his muscular thigh pressing against her soft-fleshed upper leg and buttocks.
"Ummmmmm...you feel so warm and nice," he murmured into her ear.
Shannon knew, somewhere in the back of her muddled brain, that she shouldn't be letting him press against her like this. She tried to move away, but lost her balance and fell heavily against his chest. Before she knew what was happening, his impatient hands were groping for her breasts, and his hot breath was panting against her face.
"Oh no," she gasped. "Oh, Dave...what are you doing? Stop...ohhhh...."
Her protests were terminated by his warm lips pressing tightly against her own, and the lurid sensations that shot through her body were so intense that for a moment she forgot what a forbidden thing she was doing. Never before in her life had she felt a kiss like this his tongue pushed deep into her mouth, swirling hotly around her own tongue and across her teeth, and their saliva mingled in a way that sent delicious thrills surging throughout her innocent young loins.
"No...nooooo...." she moaned in a voice so weak it hardly sounded convincing. She felt as though she were without substance, as though she were floating on thin air high in the cosmos while lovely mists caressed her body and made every particle of her being aware of some ecstatic sensitivity.
Stop him...stop him before it's too late...get away from here before something terrible happens, she heard a warning voice inside her head call out, but her muscles had turned into pliant plastic that obeyed Dave's kneading hands rather than her brain. Shannon gasped,-but offered no physical resistance as the older boy pushed her limp body down flat on the foam rubber mattress and pressed his heavy-muscled frame on top of her. In a moment his hands were groping again for her sensitive breasts, massaging and squeezing at the resilient flesh through the thin material of her skimpy knit midriff, and the burning heat inside her flat little belly grew so intense that she thought she was going out of her mind.
Oh God. what's happening to me? What's the matter with me...am I going crazy? I never let anyone do these things to me before, never! It must be that joint. I wish I'd never smoked it! Yet even as these thoughts ran through the teenager's drug-dazed mind, a secret little voice deep within her was refuting them. In the most honest part of her soul, Shannon was aware of a rapidly mounting desire and a lewd curiosity that refused to be suppressed. She wanted him to keep down these things that sent such exquisite sensations spiraling through her entire body; and the fact that it was sinful and wanton only made the pleasure more exciting.
Dave, encouraged by the young girl's lack of resistance, slid his hands down from the soft, enticing mounds of her budding breasts to her taut little tummy. With an expertise born of constant practice, the youth deftly unzipped her jeans and tugged the tight-fitting pants down over her firm hips and slim legs to reveal her skimpy pink nylon bikini panties and war-fleshed, milk-white thighs. Jesus Christ! he thought, running one finger along the narrow crotch-band of her silky little panties, she's perfect...she's too lucking good to be true! He was still having difficulty believing that this delicious piece of tail was all his instead of belonging to one of the members of the band.
"Honey, you're beautiful, just beautiful," he whispered as he inserted his thumbs in the elastic waistband of the panties and began to slide them down over her girlish hips. "Shit, look at that pretty little cunt of yours!" His hardened cock was throbbing painfully against his tight Levi's, and unable to wait another instant, he pulled down his fly and wriggled out of the confining clothing.
Shannon, who'd been lying with her eyes tightly shut in a hopeless attempt to block out the reality of what was happening to her, suddenly opened her eyelids at the alarming surprise of his obscene words and the metallic sound of his opening zipper. She gazed in amazement at the shameless sight of her own naked flesh, which glowed like a ghost from the purple-blue neon light of the parking lot. She was particularly shocked by the uncovered "vee" of her sparse brown pubic hair. Oh no! It can't be real! I can't really be lying here without any clothes on next to some strange boy! she thought, a little of the drug-induced fog lifting from her mind as a result of the intense shock. Then, as she lifted her gaze to the high-school dropout above her, her pretty face contorted in a silent scream of genuine terror. He looked like a total stranger until she realized that at some time in the last few minutes he had removed his wire-frame glasses.
Dave was leering down at his prey with a lewd, satanic gleam in his pot-glazed eyes. The animalistic expression on the young network employee's craggy face was frightening enough, but the long, fully erect rod of glistening red cock-flesh that he held poised only inches away from her nakedly vulnerable pussy so terrified her that energy-giving adrenalin shot instantly through her lethargic loins.
"No! No! No!" she wailed, her shrill voice strained and almost hysterical. "Get away from me! Let me out of here! No, Dave, no, you can't, you can't!"
As she cried out. Shannon began to struggle beneath him, trying nakedly to wrench her virginal pussy out from under his heavy, well-muscled body. The curly-haired boy clamped his hands down on her shoulders so that her upper torso was held paralyzed, but she continued to kick out her legs in her frantic attempt to escape.
Why did I ever leave the concert? Shannon asked herself. Now this stranger's going to rape me. and I can't do a thing to stop him because he's too strong! Oh God, why aren't I home watching TV with my parents? Once again, the frantic teenager strove to twist out from under his pressuring hands, but Dave only dug his fingers more deeply into her tender flesh, sending a sickening wave of pain through her body.
"Hey, baby, take it easy! What's got into you?" Dave gasped, fighting with surprising strength to hold her writhing loins in position beneath him. Shit! Just when he'd thought everything was going so well, she'd decided to play Little Miss Prick-Tease. What the hell-she'd asked for it, and now she was goddamn well going to get it! His wildly pulsating cock wouldn't take no for an answer, no matter how much she might try to struggle against him.
"No, Dave! Please...you can't do this to me...you just can't! Pleeeaasssseeee!" the panic-stricken virgin sobbed.
For the first time in her young life Shannon Salter realized how much her virginity meant to her. It wasn't just a matter of obeying her puritanical mother's demands, nor was it just a case of preserving that funny little piece of skin with the weird name that she learned about in health class. If it had been just that, she would not have been nearly so upset now. No, her purity had a deeper more personal meaning. It was something precious, a once-in-a-lifetime gift she longed to present to the first man whom she truly loved, to the man who would in turn love her forever and cherish her gift enough to treat her with gentle tenderness and marry her and be the lather of her children.
Now, instead of that, she was about to be violated by some boy she hardly knew in the back of a panel truck. It was so humiliating that just thinking of it made her feel dirty, and tears of despair began to spill down her flushed cheeks.
"I don't know what the fuck you're going on about," Dave exclaimed, irritation sharpening his voice. "You were just as hot as me a minute ago!"
"Ooohhh! Ooooohhh! Ooooohhhh! Noooooo!" Shannon sobbed, growing hysterical as the marijuana intensified her emotion. She could feel Dave's fingers still teasing at the naked lips of her fearfully quivering vagina, but the sensation just upset her now instead of having the intended effect of arousing her. With tear-filled eyes, she stared in fear at the huge pulsating shaft of flesh hovering so close to her vulnerable pussy. Not only was he going to divest her of her most valuable possession, but he was probably going to kill her as well, or at the very least end her up in a hospital. "Oh, God, no! Nononononono!" she screamed.
"Jesus Christ!" Dave mumbled to himself. The bushy-haired boy was stoned himself, after chain-smoking grass-blended cigarettes for the past several hours, and he was bewildered by this young girl's crazily conflicting reactions. She didn't act the least big like any other groupie he'd ever run across in his career of driving Don Allen around and meeting all the musicians he featured on his show. But if she wasn't a groupie, then why on earth was she hanging around in the parking lot waiting for the band?
Shaking his uncombed head in confusion, Dave came to the same conclusion he usually did about any happening he failed to comprehend: it didn't matter why something was happening; it only mattered that it was happening. Here he was, with his heavy penis throbbing more and more painfully with each passing instant, and the stupid kid decided to throw a fit. A sudden wave of anger washed over his frustrated body, and he had to restrain himself from slapping her into submission.
"You stupid little cock-teaser!" he raged in a wild voice quite unrecognizable from his usual quiet tone. "Why the hell can't you just shut up and enjoy it? I'm so hot now I gotta fuck you, whether you like it or not."
"NOOOOOOOOOO! GET AWAY FROM ME! NOOOOO!" Shannon cried at the top of her lungs, kicking out her legs with renewed energy.
Dave shot a quick glance out the window of the network bus, hoping that no one was around to hear her loud scream. Shit, if she kept this up, he was liable to get busted. This chick was jail bait! What if some stooge called the pigs? There was no doubt in his mind that she was under-age...and then there was all that dope in the glove compartment and on a school parking lot yet!
"Okay, baby, okay," he said, forcing a calm, reasonable tone. "Listen, I'm not trying to hurt you. I just want to have a little fun." He released his firm grip on her shoulders, noting with a twinge of guilt that his tight-pressing fingers had left red bruises on her sensitive white flesh. "Don't you like to fuck?" he asked.
Shannon, who had rolled into the corner of the truck as soon as he let go of her, stared at him with tearful, suspicious eyes. Her desperate panic was disappearing, and now she just wished she were miles away from this strong boy whose naked penis still thrust itself threateningly at her.
"I...I never...never did it before," she managed to choke out.
So she really was a cherry! "Well, I'll be damned," he said "Then it's about time you started, isn't it? There's a first time for everything; and now's certainly as good a time as any. Hell, I gotta have some satisfaction or I'm gonna go crazy!" he said as he flourished his long thick cock lewdly in her direction.
"It's...it's too big.. . it'll kill me!" Shannon whimpered. "And...and I wanted it to be special the first time!"
"Your cunt'll stretch," he assured her crudely, but not unkindly. "And it'll be special enough, I promise you that!"
"B-But I don't know you! And in a car...it's...it's so dirty!"
"I got the answer!" Dave exclaimed, a pleased smile lighting up his face as a sudden inspiration came to him. Reaching over into the front seat, he found two joints. "Here you look like you need that," he said, handing one of the cigarettes to Shannon. "Now listen how about this? You liked it all right when I kissed you and stuff, right?"
"Y-Yes, I guess so," the girl had to admit, taking a hesitant drag on the forbidden cigarette. She knew that she probably shouldn't be smoking this it had only gotten her in trouble before but she did feel the need for its relaxing effect.
"Well, baby, we're just gonna play around like that, 'till you get used to my cock. There's lots of ways to have fun without fucking."
Shannon gazed at him with wide, drug-confused eyes. "I I don't understand...." she murmured. The grass was making her much calmer, and she was beginning to feel a little embarrassed about her childish outburst. Now that Dave was no longer acting like an enraged animal, she wasn't quite sure just why she'd been so frightened.
"I'll show you," he offered, rolling eagerly over to where the half-naked young girl lay. "See," he held out his swollen penis toward her, "it's nothing to be afraid of. Feel it touch it! It won't bite you! Go on...that's the idea...that makes me feel so good...."
Still a little afraid, but with a rapidly mounting curiosity, the innocent girl reached out one timid finger toward the glistening shaft of blood-engorged male flesh. It felt surprisingly warm and smooth, not at all the way she'd imagined it to be, and a little smile hovered on her tear-stained face as she felt it jerk beneath her fingers.
"It...it feels warm...and sort of alive," she said to Dave.
"Well, I should hope so," Dave chuckled, relaxing a bit. "Put your whole hand around it, honey, and squeeze it," Dave instructed. "And then move your hand up and down, okay?"
Shannon did as he instructed, feeling pleased at the way she was making his cock swell to an even greater thickness with her hesitant fingers.
"Aaaaaahhhh! That feels so good, baby," Dave groaned, then reached out to run his own middle finger up and down along the hair-fringed slit of the young girl's naked pussy. "Just as good as this feels to you."
As he spoke, the eager chauffeur located the already pulsing bud of the girl's delicate clitoris. A smile of lewd anticipation hovered on his perspiring face as he felt the small nerve-button react beneath his prodding finger, and he discovered happily that the young virgin's naked pussy was already dampened by her own involuntary love secretions. That was always a good sign.
"Ohhhhh!" Shannon gasped, sharply drawing in her breath as a wave of violent desire shot from her vagina to every nerve ending in her adolescent body. She thought that this must be the most perfect feeling in the entire universe, and whether or not it was wrong, she couldn't try to stop him now. She didn't even want to.
"Ohhhh," she moaned again. And then her blissful, drug-dazed cries changed to a low groan of frustration as the boy withdrew his pleasure-giving finger and made her wait. He was testing to see what progress he was making.
"No...no, please don't stop!" she murmured, astounded at hearing the shameful phrase tumble spontaneously from her lips.
"Who's stopping?" Dave grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming with lust as he pulled her hand away from his painfully erect thickness. "We're just getting started, baby!"
Before the bewildered schoolgirl could guess what he had in mind, she found herself being tugged around so that she was lying on her back staring up at his naked muscle-taut thighs while his wild-haired head and chest bent over her own naked belly.
"What...wh-what are you going?" she asked, a little chill of new fear running up her backbone. Then, as she felt his hot breath pulsing over her sensitive pussy flesh, her uncertainty was transformed into a lovely combination of amazement and curiosity. Dave was going to kiss her down there, just as she'd heard the older girls whisper about. Oh, God! What was it going to feel like?
"What am I doing?" Dave's voice repeated as he buried his face in the soft strands of the young girl's silken brown pubic curls. "Just wait and feel, baby! Just wait and feel!"
Almost immediately, the youth's long tongue snaked out between his teeth and ran wetly along Shannon's rose-pink, well-lubricated cuntal slit. A warm female aroma reached his nostrils, causing his brain to careen dizzily and his long-frustrated penis to ache even more than before. I can't wait! he told himself. I have to feel those soft little lips sucking around me right now!
"Put my cock in your mouth!" he gasped out.
"Wh-what...? " Shannon thought she must have misunderstood his indistinct command. Surely he wasn't suggesting that she take his enormous thing in her mouth! It was far too big arid, besides, it seemed like such a perverted thing to do!
"Put it in your mouth, goddamn it!" the immature boy insisted, lowering his loins so that the tip of his massive, blood-bloated member grazed along the soft skin of Shannon's cheek.
"Come on, kid! I can't hold out all night! You don't want me to shoot my load all over that pretty face of yours, do you?"
In his own intense excitement, Dave had forgotten that he'd intended to treat the innocent virgin with a measure of tenderness. All he was aware of now was the sweet-tasting cunt beneath his hungry lips and the compelling need in his throbbing penis.
"Put it in. Goddamn you, or I'm gonna ram it down your fucking throat!" he growled.
Badly frightened by the rough, animalistic tone in the boy's voice, Shannon Salter put out a tentative hand and took hold of the pulsating shaft of flesh jutting out in an obscene curve just above her mouth. She stared at it for a long moment, wondering how she was going to be able to fulfill this depraved request, but then a hot electric surge of delight quivered up from her vagina as Dave's hot tongue located her sensitive little clitoral bud. and she realized that she owed it to him to try.
He's making me feel so good...shouldn't I be doing the same thing for him? she asked herself. This reasoning seemed sensible to her marijuana-drugged brain, and she pushed her tongue out from between her teeth to graze against the bulbous, purplish cock-head. Surprised at the pleasingly smooth texture of the rubbery tip, the inexperienced young girl lapped at the small, pearl-like droplet of pre-cum that hung balanced on the tip of his glans. Its strange, pungent taste set off an explosion of wanton desire in her half-naked young body, for it coincided with a tantalizing jab of Dave's stiffened tongue deep into the never-before-penetrated orifice of her virginal cunt.
"Oh, yeeessss," she mewled, her words distorted as she pressed her lips forward around his pulsating hot thickness. "Uuuuuummmmmppppphhhhh."
At the feel of this strange little groupie's lips on his long-denied penis, Dave raised his own mouth from her fresh-scented vagina to stare with lewd delight at the corrupt spectacle of her full, childish lips clutching the tip of his long hard cock. Her pretty face was flushed with excitement, and her smooth, olive-skinned cheeks formed delightful little hollows as she applied more and more pressure to his pulsating virility. The most erotic thing about it all was that her knew perfectly well that his was the first cock her velvet-soft mouth had ever tasted. This made the jaded rock-band chauffeur feel a wilder arousal than he had in years.
"Suck it, baby! Suck it all the way into that sweet little throat of yours! Come on! SUCK!" he ordered, gripping at her resilient thigh flesh until she gasped out in pain. Then, as he felt her rounded lips sink obediently halfway down his impatient shaft of rock-hard flesh, he once again responded by burying his face in the petal-pink confines of her innocent vagina.
As the impossibly large male thickness pushed its way down her throat. Shannon's mind went blank. All the drugged young girl was aware of now was the exquisite sensation below in her tingling pussy, and she ovaled her lips around the massive shaft in rhythmic response to the waves of liquid sensation that wafted through her virginal body at each stroke of his long hot tongue between her legs. He lapped deeper and deeper into her never-before-violated cuntal passage, and within minutes, the gasping teenager felt a strange churning sensation deep inside her naked body. Soon her whole being was vibrating in anticipatory ecstasy, and she realized that very soon she was going to cum.
This climax, she knew, was going to be a hundred times more powerful than any of the self-induced orgasms she had experienced as she lay, guilt-ridden but unable to control herself, in her lonely bed back at home. All of that seemed light years away and eons ago, as if it had all happened to another Shannon in some other reincarnation. Now she was with a real man, a wonderful man who was bringing undreamed-of pleasure to her inexperienced body. She was no longer skinny little Shannon Salter who had transferred from a school on the wrong side of town; she was a woman, a grown woman who was being fucked by a man's wetly heated tongue. For a confused instant, she wished that his long hard penis was slicing into her pussy instead of into her watering mouth, but then, as his eager tongue worked back up to her quivering clitoral bud, she forgot all conscious thought in her effort to suck his cock as exquisitely as he was sucking her vagina.
"Aaaahhh." the mind-boggled teenager whimpered around the pulsating thickness as it plunged with ever-increasing urgency into her straining mouth. Without quite being aware of what she was doing, she reached out one quivering hand to cup the firm, velvet-textured sac of the youth's heavily formed testicles. After gently squeezing at the resilient flesh of his balls, the lust-fevered virgin reached back to prod with one tentative finger at the puckered orifice of his anus. It's not right I oughtn't be touching him hack there. Shannon thought in a flash of conscience, but the lasciviousness of her action only increased her own excitement.
The tantalizing touch of the girl's warm soft fingers on his sensitive opening and sperm-bloated balls triggered the young chauffeur's long-awaited orgasm. A series of bestial grunts and a final cry of release issued from his slaving mouth as all rational thought vanished from his brain in his egotistical desire to saturate this innocent little groupie's wildly working throat with his lust-heated sperm.
"Aaaarrrggghghhghhghhh!" he groaned, jabbing his tongue with mindless fury as far as possible into the warmly-clasping cavern of her pussy. Dave could feel the first droplets of hot viscous sperm wrenching away from his lust-swollen balls and beginning to race up along the wildly plunging shaft of his lengthy penis. Instants later, crazy floods of boiling hot sperm were splashing into the young girl's helpless mouth, and he was vaguely aware that she had tightened her elastic lips in a desperate attempt to avoid swallowing the flow of his cum.
But it was useless. Shannon gulped and swallowed in frenzied abandon, the unfamiliar pungency of his hot male semen and the agonizing ache in her wide-stretched jaws increasing the strange masochistic excitement that burned deep within her loins. Suddenly, although his tongue had ceased to move within her dilating cuntal passage when his sperm began to shoot out into her mouth, the innocent teenager felt her own orgasm breaking with such head-spinning violence that she cried out in ecstasy around the still-spurting hardness that filled her mouth.
"Ooh hhh...ohhhh...I'm cummmmminnnggg!" she gurgled, then began to mewl in helpless delight as wave after wave of mind-dazzling pleasure crashed over her quivering young body. It seemed to go on forever and ever, until at last she fell into a sort of semi-swoon, collapsing upon his sweat-moistened loins with his rapidly deflating penis still lying limp and wet between her lips.
Dave too lay still for a moment as he savored the delightful aftermath of his powerful climax. Finally he stirred, withdrawing his mouth from her passion-drenched little pussy after gently licking away the sweet-tasting droplets of her orgasmic secretions still clinging to her vaginal lips and tangled brown pubic curls. Although he would have liked to lie here entwined with his marvelous little treasure all night and then fuck her properly as soon as his deflated cock was able, he knew it wasn't in the cards. The band would be finishing soon, and promoter Don Allen would be pissed as hell when he discovered he had taken this luscious little groupie for himself. Either Don or Carl, the lead singer, would take her away from him. he had no doubt about that, and he'd lose the best piece of ass he'd ever found in his young life.
"Come on, baby! Get dressed," he urged, gently stroking her perspiration-streaked flesh and pulling his now-flaccid penis from her cum-streaked lips.
"Uuuuurnmmrnm?" Shannon murmured, her mind so dazed from the never-before-experienced bliss of her climax that she was almost unaware of where she was.
"Come on! If you hurry, I'll be able to drive you home," Dave insisted, fumbling for her jeans among the electronic equipment, empty wine bottles at the back of the bus; and then attempting to tug them up her limp legs. She seemed unable to move, and when he'd finally dragged her tight jeans up over her hips, he had to half-carry her into the front seat.
"Smoke?" he asked, kissing her full on the mouth as he turned the key in the ignition and roared out of the parking lot, running a red light on the way.
Shannon shook her tousled brown hair in a weak gesture of refusal. It was going to be hard enough getting past her parents as it was, and she only hoped that they would have already gone on up to bed by now so that she wouldn't be forced to speak with them. She felt so different that she was certain that what she had been doing was written all over her face.
Dave lit up a joint, asked directions, and sped down the dark suburban streets toward the Salter home. As he drove, he handled the steering wheel with one hand so he could continue to caress the slender body that leaned against his and responded to his every touch.
"Baby, you made me so happy tonight," he told her. "You're the most fantastic chick I've met in ages!"
A warm, exuberant feeling shot through Shannon's body at the sound of his words. No one had ever said anything like that to her before; it made her feel all safe, glowing with a joy and self-confidence that was totally foreign to the shy adolescent. Suddenly, she didn't care at all what her parents might do or say to her, for the only thing that mattered was that this grown-up boy with the bushy hair appreciated her.
"Here's the address of the party we're having next week-end," he said as they drove up in front of her house. Handing her a quickly scribbled slip of paper, he kissed her again, and really meant what he said. "I really want you to come, okay?"
"Okay," Shannon smiled. "Okay, Dave."
The young driver watched as the slim young girl made her rather unsteady way up the sidewalk and entered the dark house. As he watched the way her taut little buttocks undulated in the tight jeans she wore, he already felt his long cock stiffening again, which surprised him pleasantly and at the same time made him sorry that he hadn't had time to really fuck her properly.
Goddamn cute little ass! he thought as he sped back to the school. Can't wait till next weekend!
CHAPTER THREE
"I don't believe it!" Debbie tossed her dyed hair which was no longer red but platinum blonde, thanks to an expensive and uncomfortable Saturday afternoon at the beauty shop. She fixed a challenging gaze on her friend Shannon's excited face. "You're just making it up!"
"Really, Debbie! It's true!" Shannon insisted, feeling too pleased at the memory of her activities with Dave Tucker the past Friday night to be offended by her older friend's reaction. "I swear to God! It was so wonderful but I just can't tell you about it now!"
"What was so wonderful?" Debbie demanded. "If you can't tell me, then I don't believe a word you say."
"Oh he he," the pretty brunette stuttered, glancing around at the other students in the junior high school cafeteria lunch line. Most of them looked like such little babies, much more concerned with peering ahead to see what icky concoction the kitchen had dreamed up for today's lunch than with listening to the conversation of a couple of socially insignificant girls. But she knew that if they caught the gist of what she was about to tell Debbie, they would be all ears.
"So I was right he didn't do anything!" the bottle-blonde chirped. She was feeling unusually irritated with her younger friend and wanted to hurt her. It was mainly because Shannon's natural brown hair that she did nothing to improve looked so much better than her own peroxided effort. "Anyway, if it was all that fantastic, then why didn't you call me and tell me all about it yesterday?"
"You know my Mom always listens in on the extension phone," Shannon replied in an exasperated voice. "And if she had any idea about how I spent my Friday night, I'd be grounded for the rest of my life!"
"Heard about what?"
Shannon glanced around her once again until she was sure that no one was the least bit interested in what they were saying. Then she leaned close to her friend and whispered into her ear. "First we smoked some joints...."
"That's no big deal!" Debbie interrupted loudly. "I've been doing that for ages!" Actually, she had only tried it once, but
Shannon was acting so conceited that she felt she had to say anything necessary to strengthen her position.
"Well, you never told me anything about it," Shannon's voice dropped to a bare whisper. Then she continued, "So then we got in the back of the truck and he did things to me...." She decided against including any account of what now seemed to be her immature protests at the beginning.
"What do you mean things?" Debbie demanded in her usual direct manner.
"Shhh! First he made me touch his...his thing, and then he touched me down there, and then...and then...."
"Well, I'm waiting. Then what?"
"Then we kissed each other down below!" she pointed surreptiously toward her pussy, where heated prickles of excitement started again stimulated by the memory her own words evoked. "Gosh, Debbie! I can't tell you how wonderful it felt!"
"Are you putting me on, or what?" Debbie questioned, trying to hide the jealousy and curiosity she was experiencing. "I can't believe you really did something like that!"
"Well, it's true, whether you believe it or not!" Shannon started to feel very irritated at the way Debbie was acting. For the whole weekend, she had been dying to recount the story to her best friend, and was sure that she would be truly impressed. "And he asked me to a party next weekend too!"
"No kidding? But even if he did, what's so cool about him? He just drives the truck."
This was an undeniable fact; and Shannon fell silent as she struggled for an appropriate retort.
"I don't see what you're so excited about," Debbie continued, her voice nastier than before.
"Well, even if he's only the driver, all the band guys'll be at the party...Carl and Don Allen and all," Shannon countered. "And if you don't believe me, you can come along and see for yourself." The invitation popped out spontaneously, and Shannon wasn't sure she should have said it.
"Maybe I will, that is if I haven't got something else on...a date or something." Debbie affected an off-hand tone; but inside she too was seething with emotion. The sixteen-year-old girl had heard all about sex from her cousin Norma; but although she would have died rather than let anyone know it, she had never experienced anything like what Shannon had done Friday. I'll go to that party and find a real musician to do it to me! she vowed silently. I'll show that stuck-up Shannon a thing or two. And just think real live rock singers!
The two girls had reached the head of the lunch line by now, and Shannon had an excuse not to answer her girlfriend. She began selecting dishes an unappetizing Sloppy Joe, a square of rubbery red jello with a glob of imitation whipped cream, and a cardboard container of chocolate drink and put them onto her lunch tray. Her unexpressed anger burned inside, and as she was picking up the silverware and the straws, she too made herself a silent promise.
I'll show that snooty Debbie! she told herself. She'll be sorry she ever made fun of me! And then, as she began thinking of just how she would impress her girlfriend, little fingers of tantalizing sexuality arose once again and surged through her slim young body.
* * *
Five days later, Debbie Kanner and Shannon Salter were hurrying up a dark tree-lined hillside road on the edge of Glendale. Both girls were shivering, partly because of their habitual refusal to wear sweaters but mostly from nervous excitement. Although the evening air was cool, it held some of the warmth of the day enough for the wild brush of the California hillsides to give off its characteristic aroma. But neither of the young girls was aware of the beauty of the early spring evening; both were far too concerned about the party toward which they were headed to think of anything else.
"Are you sure my hair looks all right?" Debbie asked for the third time, running one of her glitter-covered fingernails through the yellow straw. She had decided on Thursday that a very light color suited her skin better; and on an impulse had spent more than ten dollars to have her long hair stripped and re-colored. Although the new shade certainly suited her complexion better, she couldn't help worrying about the way her once lustrous hair seemed to grow more lifeless the more she worked at improving it.
"Really, Debbie, it looks fine," Shannon replied absentmindedly. Not only did she still feel a little cool toward her best friend, but she was too concerned with her own problems to give her full attention to anything else. How was she going to avoid Dave who, although he certainly was very sexy, was nevertheless not a real musician and not-likely to impress any of the kids at school very much? How was she going to attract Don Allen, the handsome TV star instead?
Shannon glanced down at her new outfit, gaining confidence at the sight of its fashionable short pleated skirt and voile shirt. She had borrowed the thirty dollars it cost from Poppa, but although she had been very careful to destroy the price tag, Mom had thrown a fit anyway. Well so what! she thought to herself now, delighting in the feel of the sheer, almost transparent blouse fabric brushing against her naked breasts. The little tailored pockets covered her nipples from the front, but she was sure that anyone looking at her from the side could easily see the whole outline of her breasts. II only Don notices me in this outfit, it'll be worth every nasty thing Mom ever said to me, as well as the baby-sitting I'll have to do to repay Poppa.
The two girls turned around the side of the hill and at once heard the faint strains of rock music issuing from a brightly lit, rather neglected house at the end of a cul-de-sac.
"That must be the party!" Shannon exclaimed, the nervous cramps in her stomach making her feel as if she should have gone to the toilet at the last gas station they walked by on the way up.
They made their way up the rock path, neither girl wanting to admit to the other how scared she felt about walking into this party full of celebrated pop stars. Shannon, in fact, was doing battle with a horrendous urge to run away from the whole scene, to sneak back to the security of childhood from which she had been so eager to escape, but to which there were still strong ties. For a moment, they stood before the closed door, and then Debbie took command and pressed decisively on the doorbell.
An attractive dark-haired male whom Shannon vaguely recognized as the Salt Eagle drummer opened the door and shot them each a questioning look. "Who're you?" he demanded.
"I-I'm Shannon Salter. I'm a friend of Dave's."
"And who's she?" the boy asked, indicating Debbie.
"Th-This is my friend, Debbie Kanner. D-Dave invited me to come to a p-party here tonight." The young teenager's face flushed a furious red as she wondered how her girlfriend was reacting to his less-than-cordial welcome.
"Oh, okay," the long-haired youth smiled, after carefully checking out the two pretty adolescents and finding them acceptable. The chick who had spoken was truly superb...where had Dave found a cute little piece like her anyhow? As for her friend, the overly tight blouse and rather outdated hairdo gave her the appearance of a girl who had tried terribly hard, but who just didn't make it. But he was sure she wouldn't object to a quick fuck. Personally, he preferred his screwing like that-someone he'd never like well enough to get involved with, but who'd always be good for some fun and games when the band happened to be doing a week in her town. His eyes held on her large, bulging breasts as he added, "I didn't mean to sound unfriendly, but we have rather special parties and we don't want just anybody barging in. We have to play it real cool!"
He finally opened the door fully and the two inexperienced schoolgirls stood in rapt amazement and astonishment at their new surroundings while he carefully double-bolted the door behind them. There were four doorways in the unlighted hallway in which they found themselves, the closest of which stood open to reveal a large crowd of exotically dressed young people sprawled out on Indian madras-covered mattresses around-m low table. Although the candlelit room was too dark for them to make out more than the hazy outlines of the figures, it was instantly obvious, even to the uninitiated girls, that the group was smoking hashish from tiny pipes they were holding, and the acrid-sweet smell that drifted out into the hall. To the girls' left, another open door led to a flight of stairs, and it was from here that the loud music came. The two other doors were shut.
"Dave's not here," the dark-haired drummer pulled his eyes away from Debbie's nervous heaving breasts to smile at the shy little brown-haired friend who was standing beside her. "He went down to T.J. Wednesday to pick up some 'supplies', and he got busted just when he was trying to cross the border from Mexico back into the States. But come on in anyway and meet the rest of us. There's dancing and stuff downstairs, but you'll want to smoke and drink some wine up here first, I guess."
They made their way into the darkened, smoke-filled room where he pointed toward an empty mattress in a corner. Glancing apprehensively at Debbie, who was too busy staring up at the drummer to pay any attention to her friend, Shannon sat down. Feelings of excitement and misgiving raced alternately through her consciousness. Maybe she had gotten in over her head. Maybe she should leave now before there was no chance to turn back. The news that Dave had been arrested seemed to her an evil omen concerning the lives and the futures of all these people. Just as she was leaning over to tell Debbie that since Dave wasn't there, she thought they ought to split-and quickly the door guard handed her a strange-shaped little pipe.
Shannon stared at it for some time, remembering the bizarre effects that the grass had had on her the previous weekend. But she was also remembering the wonderful way Dave had made her feel. What am I scared of anyway? she asked herself. I'm just acting like a baby again. If she was feeling uncomfortable, it was just because of a stupid hang-up that she wanted to erase from her personality anyway. With this rationalization, she took a long, almost greedy drag on the mouthpiece at the end of the odd little hand-carved pipe. Then she handed it to her wide-eyed friend. Within seconds she felt the welcome relaxation stealing over her, even warmer than what she had experienced for the first time last week. Suddenly the strange room and its drug-dulled occupants became bathed in a hazy, almost mystical light.
"Pretty good stuff," she said authoritatively in Debbie's direction, feeling proud at the sophisticated sound of her comment. But her girl friend was still so entranced by the attentive drummer pressing close against her that she did not even hear her younger friend's words.
Feeling a little uneasy in spite of the numbing effects of the hashish, the young girl found herself wishing that Dave were there. Even though he wasn't the most important guy in the world, at least he was friendly and she felt comfortable with him. Starting with the very first drag on the pipe, she felt the warm, melting sensation stealing over her body. If Dave could only come back, she knew that he would fan this warmth into the unbearable erotic pleasure she had enjoyed with him the previous weekend out in the parking lot. And now he was in jail. She had never known anyone before who was actually busted...it must have been awful for him. The little pipe was handed to her again, and she drew in as much smoke as her lungs would hold without even noticing who had passed it to her.
"Hey, baby! Don't I know you from somewhere?" a low, seductive voice purred into her ear.
Shannon whirled around to stare into the handsome face of her blond idol, Don Allen, the star of Music USA.
"Ohhhh...M Don!" she exclaimed, glad she had caught herself and not made the silly mistake of calling him "Mister Allen." She would never have recognized him on her own if he hadn't spoken to her. In place of the conventional slacks and turtle neck he had worn at the concert, he was dressed in what looked like a priest's vestment...and maybe it was. It was made of purple silk and had a huge cross in front thickly embroidered in gold. She remembered the rock-religious songs he sometimes included on his TV variety show, and she tried with her hash-dulled mind to make logical sense of the apparition before her. She recognized the garment as Catholic from the few times her grandmother had taken her to St. Matthew's Church in Bakersfield; but Don Allen had never talked on TV about being Catholic, and even if he was, he wouldn't have the right to wear a robe like that if he weren't a priest. It was only when he bent over to hand her the pipe that she realized that the garment hung absolutely open on the sides, and that he wasn't even wearing any jockey shorts underneath. At that moment, even through the hashish fog, she knew it had to be some kind of 'put on' and still she hadn't answered the question he had asked her, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
This was the line he always used with strange girls, for he had discovered that, not only did it flatter them all, but also he obtained a wealth of information about them' from the various ways they responded to his stock question. If they were hip sophisticates, they would assume that he was handing them an amusing camp cliche; if they were easy fucks, the kind who fell for his good looks immediately, they'd giggle or say something coy; but if they breathed his name in the infatuated tone that this little dollie had used, it meant that they were young, innocent, and most-likely, virgins. And contrary to Debbie's conjecture that he was the kind of guy who was saving his own virginity for his future wife, Don Allen had a thing about virgins!
"Yeah, baby!" he murmured, attempting to sound as romantic as possible, "I couldn't forget a pretty face like yours. Where did I see you?"
"Last week...at your concert...at Glendale High," Shannon replied, hoping that he would assume automatically that she was at least in senior high and not just a visitor from the adjacent junior high. All thoughts of bespectacled Dave Tucker instantly vanished as she gazed at Don's movie-star-perfect features. "I...I...thought you were looking at me!"
Much to his surprise, the jaded young TV idol realized that he had indeed noticed this particular piece of pussy last week. He recalled being especially struck by the way her classic-featured face contrasted with her almost sluttish girlfriend next to her. And he also recalled how her firm little buttocks in their tight clinging jeans had rotated so provocatively as she danced.
"Yeah I remember," she said. "You were wearing an orange midriff and jeans...."
Shannon Salter felt as if her entire body had turned to molten rubber. Don had noticed her he had even remembered her! She really was attractive enough to appeal to an illustrious TV star even at her age. She wasn't just an insignificant little ninth-grader from the wrong side of Glendale.
Smiling shyly up toward the handsome twenty-year-old band promoter. Shannon murmured, "I love your program...you get the best groups I've heard on your TV shows."
"Oh, that was just a two-bit concert," the performer answered in a superior tone, even though he was obviously pleased by her blind idol worship. "You should hear some of the original stuff we're working on. Can't play it at places like Glendale High. School kids just want songs to dance to, and besides, the school board would have a shit hemorrhage, especially in a hick town like Glendale.
"Oh?" Shannon questioned, having, until this moment, thought of the concert last Friday as the pinnacle of sophisticated rock music. She didn't quite know how to interpret his statement. "What sort of music do you mean?" she asked, hoping his answer would give her a moment to reflect on the total impossibility of what she was experiencing. The way he was dressed and the things he was saying were so alien to his clean-cut face, he seemed for a second like a character in one of those Greek plays she had to read in English literature class-a mask of the face of Don Allen placed on the body of some weird hippy.
Then he answered, "Come to our concert next weekend in Santa Barbara and you'll see." He took a long gulp from the bottle of Boone's Farm wine he held in one hand and then passed it to Shannon. "You can drive up with us. It's pretty far-out stuff!"
Shannon took a deep drink from the bottle, still remembering the Coke commercial that she always associated with Don Allen. The hash had made her throat extremely dry, and she liked the light, refreshing wine so much that she took another sip, "I'd love to hear you sing yourself," she smiled back, "like you did 'Yesterday' at the concert." She was a little surprised at how easily she could talk to this man she'd idolized from afar. Smoking dope seemed to ease her usual tongue-tied timidity, and she realized that she liked its effect on her personality. "I just hope Mom'll let me go," she said, and immediately questioned the wisdom of such a statement. The young teenager knew very well how violent her mother's objections would be, but there was no point going into this with Don and making herself look childish.
"Don't let your parents push you around," Don advised. "Climb out the window if you have to...lie...whatever you have to. I'd really like to have you come with us." And this was the same guy who gave all that goody-goody advice on TV about law and order?
A reckless little giggle burst from Shannon's throat at the idea. Don wanted her to come...Don liked her! It was just too fantastic to be true! She gazed up into his dark brown eyes, a little tremor of excitement vibrating deep in her belly beneath his earnest scrutinization. Oh God! He was so incredibly handsome!...even in that rather frightening outfit.
"You want to hear some of the new sounds now?" Don asked, reaching inside his costume for a joint. Her eyes followed his hand as it reached under the open sides of the robe; and she swore she had a glance of his penis in the shadow. She couldn't actually make it out clearly because of all his pubic hair, but she was certainly looking at his privates. He lit the joint and handed it to her.
"I've got the new tape in the other room done by the Salt Eagle since they've been working for me. Would you like to listen to it?"
"Oh, yes!" Shannon breathed. It was all like a wonderful dream, a dream from which she hoped never to awaken. Dragging deeply on the newly-lit joint, she gazed up into Don's face with such a worshipful expression that the scheming promoter felt his penis jerk into pulsing semi-erectness.
"Come on!" Grabbing the half-full bottle of Boone's Farm he rose, took her hand, and led her toward the doorway.
Shit! he thought to himself. I sure never expected to find a high-class piece of tail like her at a Salt Eagle party in Glendale. He had almost decided not to come, but reconsidered because it was bad for business not to be on good terms with the groups he was pushing. Good thing we stuck around Glendale this weekend after all!
His cock was sticking straight out now, and the tip rubbed uncomfortably against the heavy brocade fabric on his robe. He led Shannon down the hallway and opened one of the closed doors.
The wide-eyed brunette gazed around in amazement. Never before had she seen such a psychedelic room: the walls were painted a deep, almost luminous blue, and a reddish light came from a hanging Arabic-style lamp. A huge fur rug lay beside a circular bed which took up nearly all the space in the small room. On the left wall was a lot of expensive-looking stereo equipment, and on the right hung a number of posters that made Shannon blush with embarrassment. Most amazing of all, the entire ceiling was covered with smoky mirror tiles.
"Is...is this your...pad?" the startled girl inquired, hoping her use of the slang word, had helped to establish her as reasonably 'with it'. By then she had turned her back on the obscene posters. She was still trying to create one man out of the person who was standing before her and his clean-cut 'twin' from the TV show.
"Hell, no; I'm from San Francisco. This here's Hank's place you know, the guy who opened the door, the drummer...the one who's gonna fuck your girlfriend."
"What!" Shannon's mouth fell open at the casual way that utterly forbidden word came from Don Allen's wholesome face. A salacious picture of her best girlfriend and the good-looking drummer writhing nakedly together flashed before her drug-glazed eyes, and prickling sensations of excitement began flickering down between her legs and deep inside her belly. "He's...he's really going to do that to Debbie?"
"Sure, why not?" Don shrugged, "She wants it. It's written all over her face that she's just ripe for a good screw."
Although the young girl knew that she probably ought to act offended by the insulting way he was talking about her girlfriend, she was too much under the influence of the powerful hashish to defend the questionable virtue of her friend Debbie. Her pale-skinned face grew flushed with excitement, and her wide-open eyes sparkled with a lewd little gleam of corrupt curiosity. Was Debbie really going to do the very thing she herself had been dreaming about ever since Dave the driver had imparted the ecstatic pleasure which her young body so badly needed? It had felt so wonderful when his hot lips had pressed against her quivering vagina, and his pulsating hardness had tasted so delicious between her own lips. What would a stiff penis feel like inside her probably so incredible she would die of happiness before it was over!
The heated pinpricks of desire in Shannon Salter's virgin loins flared into a deep flaming need which almost frightened her with its intensity. Yet. in spite of the urgent messages of her body, the young brunette was uncertain and not at all convinced that she really wanted to lose her virginity. That's just stupid! she told herself. You 're acting like a little kid. Every girl in school would envy you for the rest of their lives if you made love to Don Allen!
But another part of her brain called out in warning, and Shannon began to feel the helpless victim of her body's conflict with her mind. You'll be sorry if you let him touch you! her conscience threatened. Letting a boy kiss your pussy was one thing; letting him take your virginity is another. You'll be sorry! And it'll hurt...it'll hurt so bad you won't be able to stand it!
Baffled by the conflicting commands ripping through her inexperienced soul, the young girl lowered herself onto the big bed and shut her eyes tightly in an attempt to drown out the internal voices. But the effort was obviously futile. As soon as her eyelids closed, obscene pictures of her own debased actions of last weekend and imaginary images of what her girlfriend was doing right this very minute floated across her brain.
"Oh, no!" she murmured, her words echoing hollowly in her ears and sounding so alien that for a dazed second she wondered if perhaps there were another girl in the room. Opening her eyes, she stared at Don who was fiddling with some of the switches on the stereo.
Get yourself together! she told herself firmly. He hasn't said anything to you at all he hasn't even tried to kiss you. You're all upset about nothing at all.
Oddly enough, this thought didn't comfort her in the least. Instead, she began to worry that he didn't like her. What on earth was she going to say to Debbie if Don didn't even try to touch her? What if she blew this most promising chance of her young life entirely, if the famous rock star didn't even kiss her? She would die, absolutely die! Here she was, just lying here like a vegetable instead of saying interesting, amusing things as all the other girls he knew must do. Yet she couldn't even manage to sit up because her muscles felt so limp and unresponsive, like a puppet with its strings cut off.
Suddenly loud drumbeats exploded from four hidden speakers in the exotic bedroom, and in a moment a low, husky voice which Shannon recognized at once as belonging to Carl of the Salt Eagle began to chant in a seductive way, "Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...." The song seemed to have only this one obscene word, uttered each time at a different pitch, conveying a different attitude, but with ever-increasing intensity. After a couple of minutes, Shannon began to feel her entire body vibrating in unconscious arousal in rhythm to the hypnotic beat of the music. Shivering a little, she again closed her eyes and tried with all her might to ignore the lewd pictures forming inside her clenched lids.
Suddenly the young girl started, a little yelp of surprise bursting from between her lips as she felt strong hands grasping from behind at the sensitive mounds of her breasts.
"Real nice little tits," Don murmured into her ear, then he began to lick and nibble on her earlobe. Before Shannon could even think of protesting, he had lifted her up. His eager lips were pinned against her mouth as his outstretched tongue was prodding hotly against her teeth. She opened her lips in instinctive response, allowing his stiffened tongue to entwine with her own. Only then did she open her eyes to stare up into his, and beyond, into their mutual reflection in the ceiling mirrors.
"Ohhhh, Don," the excited teenager moaned, almost driven out of her mind by the incredible realization that she, a nothing little ninth-grader, was actually kissing a famous TV star! Waves of dizzying ecstasy swept through her innocent young body and crashed with the foam of her desire down between her thighs as his fingers tweaked her nipples into tingling erection.
"Oh, baby! Oh, shit! You're so soft and beautiful!" Don muttered into the warm moist cavern of Shannon's mouth. "I want you so bad...so fucking bad!"
"Want you"...just exactly what did the famous celebrity mean by those words? Shannon wondered. Did he mean that he wanted her to be his girl? Or did he mean he wanted to...to...to...The innocent schoolgirl couldn't bring herself to think the forbidden word, in spite of the fact that it was pounding in her ears with ever-amplified urgency.
Then, as Shannon felt his heated tongue slide down her neck and his skilled hands unbutton her voile shirt, she no longer cared what he'd meant. Whatever Don wanted her to do to him was all right. His gentle caresses were enveloping her in a rain-bow-hued cloud of passionate joy, and even if she had wanted to, she would not have been able to still the surf of need crashing through her drugged body.
At first she grasped the fabric of his robe, but in a moment her fingers had slipped to his hard-muscled hips, and her small hands drew him even closer to her.
"Oh Don...Don...." she moaned.
"Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...." the tape continued its insistent, feverish suggestion.
"Goddamn!" Don exclaimed. He pulled the flimsy material of her transparent shirt from her quivering body, then stared down at her naked breasts with their tiny traces of blue veins and untouched rose nipples. "You really turn me on, honey!"
Lowering his head to the small cream-white mounds, the lust-maddened star ran his tongue over their silken surface. The perfectly shaped young breasts responded instantly, their nipples seeming to rise of their own volition to prepare themselves for his lips to suck. "Shit, honey, you've got such sweet little tits," he sighed into the cleavage of her chest. "Now, let's see what the rest of you looks like...."
Feeling as though she were transported to a perfect dream world, the fourteen-year-old felt the moist warmth of his lips sucking at each breast in turn and then pulling away momentarily as his deft hands unzipped her new pleated skirt and slid the soft fabric down over her slender hips. There was a little swooshing sound as it was tossed to the floor.
How much I've changed in just a week. Shannon thought as she recalled the way she had cried and struggled to prevent this man's truck driver from taking her virginity. Now, only seven days later, she couldn't imagine protesting against Don. II must be because Don truly loves me...it was meant to be like this...he was destined to be the one to do it to me, the young girl rationalized. , Then as she heard him let out a strangled growl of lust, she remembered all too vividly how it felt to be afraid. There was a harsh, almost bestial quality in the TV star's voice as he pulled the bizarre robe over his head to reveal his full nakedness. It warned her that this was not going to be a story from True Romance This was for real, and it involved a far more raw, primitive level of emotion than Shannon was prepared to handle. Feeling suddenly very young and helpless, she reached her small hands against his naked, hard-muscled chest.
"Don't take off all my clothes, please don't. Please, Don...Please don't do anything bad to me!"
"What the fuck!" the naked youth exclaimed, truly amazed at the sudden switch that had come over his young captive, but he was far too aroused to act patiently about it. "If you don't want to screw me, why'd you ever come into the bedroom with me? Why'd you come to the goddamned party in the first place?"
Although she clenched her teeth shut to hold back the hot tears that she felt rising in the corners of her eyes, Shannon felt two thin rivulets trailing down her cheeks. Choking back her sobs, she found herself unable to speak and could only shake her head in silent despair.
"You're nothing but a goddamn prick-tease! Don sneered a nasty vindictive gleam appearing in his dark eyes in spite of his clean American good looks. "Well, let me tell you, honey, that if there's one thing that really pisses me off, it's a prick-teasing groupie!"
The cringing girl forced her eyes open and stared up at the young blond man with such desperation that he had to fight an urge to show compassion. After all, the cynical performer told himself, she sure as hell asked for it, and there's no reason now why I shouldn't fuck her good.
He was certain now that she must be a virgin, and his lust-hardened penis throbbed in anticipation. Don had always been especially partial to virgins. Even back in high school, when his only claim to fame had been singing the lead in a high-school operetta, he'd managed to deflower six girls in his own graduating class and several others in the church choir. Now four years later, it had been so long since he'd seen a cherry that he had decided virgins must be a dying breed, at least in the circles he was now moving in. But this kid was different, and he wasn't going to let such a splendid prize slip past him, even if it necessitated an unusual amount of self control.
The twenty-year-old star feasted his eyes on the girlish curves of Shannon's fine, unblemished body. Her firm high-set breasts were still erect, but she was trembling in fear, her warm brown eyes glued to his lust-swollen cock. Her look was one of sheer terror.
Shannon's head reeled dizzily and for a moment she thought she was about to faint. Then, as her vision refocused, she almost wished that she had. Don's hand was descending nearer and nearer to her panty-covered pussy, and before she could pull away, he was pulling away the flimsy little protection.
"Nooooo!" Shannon wailed, making a futile attempt to cover her sparse brown pubic curls with her hands.
With this, all traces of sympathy vanished from Don's brain. It was a stupid childish gesture, even for a virgin. "Look here," he threatened. "I told you that kind of stuff pisses me off! What's the matter with you? Think my cock's too big for your tight little pussy?"
Somehow the hostility and coldness in her former idol's voice upset the teenager even more than the shocking size of his blood-stiffened penis. The safe, warm feeling she'd had when he had talked to her in a loving way had vanished, leaving behind it a dull aching hollow in her chest. Suddenly she knew that she would do anything, even endure the terrible pain of his enormous cock, rather than have him say these things to her.
I'll let him do it, she decided. I'll make him happy, and then he 'II love me again.
"Don't be mad at me, Don, " she sniffed. "I...I just never did this before. I-I'm just sc-scared."
"That's a good girl," he smiled, his voice once again warm and reassuring, now that it was clear he was eventually going to get what he wanted, and from a virgin at that! "You just do what I tell you, and you'll love it. I promise!
"Okay," Shannon agreed, a little twinge of curiosity and a large measure of desire wafting through her young body as Don started to run his middle finger along her naked vaginal slit to tease her into further arousal.
"You're all ready, baby," he said. "You're all nice and wet. Your body wants to fuck. It's just your head that's a little crazy. Now just relax...it'll hurt a bit at first, but then it'll start feeling fantastic."
Before she had time to object, he had guided his huge, swollen hardness toward the tiny opening nestled so invitingly beneath her dark brown pubic hairs. I'm the very first one to touch her! he gloated, his ego swelling as large as his penis. She's never going to forget this fuck as long as she lives! He would have liked to bury his face in the moist pink folds of her tight little cunt, would have liked to make her writhe and beg for more with his skillful tongue. Another time, he promised himself. Now I can't wait I gotta shove it to her NOW! Positioning the huge bulbous head of his cock against the glistening little orifice, he began to push in against the unyielding walls of her chaste vagina.
"Shit, baby!" he gasped out. "You've got the tightest cunt I've ever felt. Just relax then it won't hurt so bad!"
Relax? He must be kidding! was Shannon's last lucid thought before the pain broke over her in such a shattering wave of agony that her vision blanked out and her mind dispersed like a thousand-piece puzzle suddenly spilled out across the floor.
"Ann! Oh Oh! Oh! Nooooo!" she panted. The only thing she was aware of now was the burning torture down between her wide-stretched legs as Don's hard cock-head forced its way into her tiny vaginal opening. Shannon was sure that he was going to tear her to pieces. At the very least, most-likely to cripple her for life. It was simply not possible that he intended to insert that enormous shaft of throbbing hot penile flesh into her already impossibly stretched pussy; but even as she raised her head to watch, it sank another inch up into the little straining orifice.
"Spread your legs out!" Don gasped, tugging at the resilient flesh of her thighs until they were spread farther than the young girl thought she could stand. "Loosen up, baby! Relax!"
Shannon hardly heard his voice now, nor was she aware any longer of the incessant lewd drone of the stereo. She opened her mouth to cry out her pain, but at that very instant Don flicked his powerful hips forward and his long penis shot almost all the way up into her never-before-entered vagina. The agony was so intense that her scream strangled in her throat, and the terrified fourteen-year-old lay rigid as a corpse, not even daring to breathe for fear that the agony would increase. The TV star flexed his cock an inch deeper, totally oblivious of any pain or injury he might be inflicting in the course of his satisfaction of his own lewd personal desires.
The taut walls of the teenager's aching cuntal passage closed in around his pulsating hardness like a snugly-fitting glove, and Don moaned out in incoherent ecstasy. He could feel every ridge and wrinkle of her moist young pussy flesh pressing maddeningly against his eager cock, and incited by this as he had not been for months, he plunged with all his force to break the final barrier for her maidenhead.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRRAAAAGGGGGHH!" Shannon wailed. She thought it couldn't possibly hurt more than it had already; but as he rammed inward to the hilt, the pain tripled. A sensation of scorching fire deep within her vagina told her she was no longer a virgin; and although she was too overwrought to form any clear conscious thought, she realized with a stab of grief that this step could never be retraced. She was no longer a little girl. From now on she was a woman, and the thought was almost as terrifying as the fierce physical anguish shooting through her cock-stuffed loins.
As Don felt the head of his cruelly pummeling penis strike the little spongy cervix deep inside the girl, he controlled himself enough to lie quietly for a moment so that Shannon could accustom herself to his huge blood-engorged bulk.
"Oh, baby!" he groaned. Your cunt's so sweet. It feels so gooooooooood!"
Shannon heard him speak through dizzying waves of pain, which were gradually receding as the enormous hardness lay still within her violated vagina. The young girl began to feel less alone, less afraid.
I'm making him happy, and now he 'll love me again, she thought; and in that same instant her vaginal muscles began to relax in involuntary response to her emotional relief. Much to her amazement, Shannon noticed that although she felt completely filled with rigid male cock-flesh, the sensation was no longer altogether painful. In a strange way, it made her feel secure, needed, and wanted, a truly important person, a real woman.
"Urn mmmmmmmmm mmmm...ahhhhhhhh...." She moaned, and the experienced performer immediately picked up on the change in her tone, and consciously throbbed his long penis hotly inside her tight-clenching cuntal depths.
"Now I'm gonna fuck you!" he breathed. "Now I'm going to show you what a real good fuck is all about!"
With this obscene promise, he pulled his lust-thickened hardness from her steaming young pussy. There was a lewd little popping noise, and in spite of her relief. Shannon felt a curious emptiness not only in her pussy, but throughout her whole lower torso. But before she had a chance to reflect on this odd deprived feeling, his long penis once again shot its full length all the way up into her moist, well-stretched vagina.
"Fuck back! Fuck me back then it'll stop hurting!" Don commanded, placing his fingers talon-like on her sensitive breasts and kneading at their pliant overly-sensitized flesh as he began a rhythmic motion in and out of her butter-smooth vagina.
The pain had changed from a red-hot poker of agony to a new sensation that sent unexpected little tingles of pleasure-pain in alternating twinges throughout Shannon's slender body. With every smooth stroke of his invading shaft, she found that displeasure vanished more and more into some strange new feeling which she could not define. Much to her surprise, she heard little gurgling sounds of approval gushing spontaneously from the depths of her throat.
"You like it, don't you?" he panted as hf plunged in and out of the clinging confines of her tight young pussy. "It's good, huh? Tell me you like it! Tell me!"
"I...ooooooohhhhhhh," Shannon gasped. She suddenly realized that she did like it...she liked the feel of his heavy, unrelenting penis ramming into the most sacred sanctuary of her body. Yet to actually admit that in words was somehow too obscene to contemplate. It was much easier to accept if she pretended that she was still being ravaged against her will.
"Say it!" Don demanded, an ugly sadistic fervor coloring his words. There was nothing he liked more than to hear some helpless young female begging for his cock as she lay lewdly impaled beneath him, particularly if she happened to be an innocent virgin like this cute little cunt. "Say you like it! Say you want me to fuck you!" he repeated, squeezing her tender breasts with more vehemence than before.
"I can't...say that," Shannon wailed.
Then, almost in the same instant, she knew that indeed she could, and would. If she didn't, he might hate her and that would be even more difficult to accept than her own admission that she was now participating voluntarily in this extraordinary act.
"Fuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkk!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, a great shudder of forbidden elation surging through her at the sound of her own obscene cry. "Yes, fuck me, do it to me, I love it, I want it! Ffffuuuuuuccccckkkk mmmmmmm mmmmeeeeee!" Shannon suddenly realized that the mere utterance of these hitherto taboo words released a never-before-acknowledged need in her young body.
I'm free! she thought. Free to do whatever I want, to say whatever I want!
"Fffffuuuuuccccckkkkk mmmmmmeeeeeeeeee!" she cried out again.
Don, who had never expected such a passionate uninhibited reaction from the hesitant virgin, grew more aroused than before, as her subservient cries sounded even above the obscene music. God, he thought, she's a hot little piece of ass after all! Deep in his sperm-swollen testicles, he sensed the semen seething in lust-fired impatience, and he knew that he couldn't control his ejaculation for very much longer, Damn! I want her to cum too, and at the same time, he thought in a sudden gesture of benevolence. And he exerted every ounce of self-control he possessed to bring her to her peak of excitement as quickly as he himself had.
Below him, the young teenager was writhing in wanton abandon on the big round bed. Lewd, almost incoherent gurgles burst from her throat, and she undulated her firm-fleshed white thighs around his pistoning penis in an instinctive motion of intercourse. The more she squirmed beneath his rock-hard thickness, she discovered, the greater the pleasure she felt in her sensitive vagina. She even found that she could create a throbbing of her own by tightening and loosening the muscles deep inside her belly. All guilt, all fear, all emotions except pure physical bliss vanished from her mind. Deep in the center of her penis-stretched pussy, cords of ecstasy were vibrating, and she was dimly aware that this signaled her impending explosion.
"Uuuuuuuuggggghhhhh!" Don groaned. He knew he couldn't hold back the seething flood of his ejaculation any longer, so he shoved one hand down toward the girl's quivering pussy and began to massage her erect little clitoral bud with his thumb as his impatient penis continued to stroke in and out of her close-clasping cunt. Then, as he felt the first surge moving upward from his lust-bloated balls, he stiffened and cried out again.
"Cuuuummmmmmmmmmming!" he choked out through passion-contorted lips. "Jesus Christ! I'm cccuuuuummmmmmmmmmmming!'"
Shannon felt the first hot splashes of thick gushing sperm strike the responsive walls of her no-longer-virginal vagina, and she thought she would die of joy. A moment later her own orgasm exploded deep in the pit of her belly, brought on by the lewd manipulation that Don was performing with his thumb on her tender clitoris. She couldn't cry out, for the feeling was too exquisite to allow her to move a muscle, but she clenched her hands in Don's long straight blonde hair and closed her eyes as wave after wave of passion rocked over her young body. It was much stronger and longer-lasting than the climax she'd had last week with Dave. Twice, after she'd thought it had finally abated, it once again flooded through her quivering loins until at last she lost consciousness from the unbearable excess of ecstasy.
Don's own powerful climax finally dissipated too, and he collapsed heavily upon the limp body of the dazed young brunette, his deflating penis still resting in the warm confines of her cum-drenched pussy. They lay there, their sweat-glistening young bodies panting in satiation, while the stereo continued to blare: "fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...."
Within minutes, the erotically entwined young pair were sound asleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Mom?, Shannon asked, taking a tentative step into the kitchen where her mother was loading the dishwasher, a cigarette clenched between her teeth and dangling from her mouth. Coming to a standstill, the young girl stood, twisting a long lock of her brown hair up and down one nervous finger as she awaited her mother's reply.
"What do you want now?" Sally Salter snapped, whirling around to face her pretty daughter as she slammed the dishwasher shut with a resounding bang.
Shannon's heart fell. She'd thought that this would be an opportune moment to ask for permission to go to the Salt Eagle concert, for her mother was normally her most pleasant when she was doing something constructive instead of just sitting around the house. What the young girl didn't realize was that Mrs. Salter had planned to quit smoking that morning and had, in fact, survived two hours without a cigarette before she succumbed to the one which was in her mouth when Shannon entered. Once again, even though she had not dared to share with her family her proposed efforts, she had personally reinforced the guilt that was the result of knowing she was the victim of compulsive behavior.
"I...I...just.. . " Shannon began, but before she could make her request known, her mother interrupted her.
"Well, what is it? You can speak up, can't you? You're too old to be stuttering like that!"
A bright flush rose in the young girl's cheeks, and she had to bite her lips to hold back the angry retort she would have liked to have made to her mother's unprovoked insult like how her mother was too old to suck on her cigarette like a baby on its pacifier! Why does Mom always have to act so mean? she thought. But I don't dare say anything today, or she'll say I'm being rude and refuse to let me go. And I have to go to the concert in Santa Barbara it's the most important thing in the whole world!
Sally Salter stared at her slim teenage daughter, trying to control the bitter, forbidden anger that overwhelmed her at the sight of the girl's lovely face and perfect figure. It's not fair! she thought, as she had so many times before. She's so pretty without trying but no matter what I do, I can't look attractive anymore. But a small voice in the back of her mind told her this wasn't exactly the whole truth of the matter. She might have started using some moisturizer on her face or continued going to those exercise classes at the YWCA.
The middle-aged woman sighed. What did it matter really? Her husband never looked at I km anymore, never even talked to her. Is my life finished at thirty-five? she asked herself bitterly, as she lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one.
"I just wondered if it was okay if I go to the concert tonight?" Shannon's timid voice interrupted her mother's reverie.
Crossing her toes inside her tennis shoes for luck, the young girl held her breath as she awaited her mother's reply.
"Concert?" Sally snapped. "What concert?"
"The...the concert with the Salt Eagle...in Santa Barbara."
"Santa Barbara?" the older woman's voice rose to the pitch of a fishwife. "Are you out of your mind? How on earth do you expect to get all the way up there'. '"
"Oh, I've got a ride," Shannon assured her in a tone of false confidence.
"Oh? A ride with whom?"
"With...with a guy...a date...someone you haven't met."
Sally Salter stood with her arms crossed defiantly, glaring at her uncomfortably fidgeting daughter. "You really think I'd permit you to go running halfway across the state with some strange boy? Especially after the way you acted last week?"
Shannon shut her eyes, a wave of sickness breaking over her body as she heard her mother pull the trump card. After falling asleep with Don at the party last weekend, she had not gotten home until an hour after her curfew hour. Although she'd already been punished by having her allowance taken away, she had feared that her mother would use this as an excuse to raise the issue again.
"This is just a concert," Shannon began. "He'll drive me home right after it's over, I promise."
Actually Don had suggested no such thing, but Shannon felt sure that he would drive her back home if she asked him to. After all, didn't he love her? That's what he had said when they'd awakened naked in each other's arms last week at the party. A reminiscent, oddly adult smile played on her face at the pleasant memory, and then at the thought of how her mother would react if she knew that she had slept with someone, especially someone who was on TV!
"I don't want to hear about your promises," her mother said, turning her back and opening the refrigerator. The look on her young daughter's face made her feel suddenly sad, very old, and even more angry than before. "And wipe that sassy smile off your face, young lady! Remember, you're only fourteen and you'll do as I say without any backtalk!"
"I'll be fifteen next week!" Shannon blurted out, almost losing her temper. "And why can't I go? Why? You can't punish me twice for the same thing! It's not fair."
"Not fair? You listen to me about what's fair and not fair, young lady!" Sally exclaimed, slamming a package of frozen port chops down on the counter. "You're not to talk to me like that! Go up to your room this instant. I'm going to see that your father hears about this!"
Something exploded in Shannon's brain, and hot tears of disappointment and frustration began to cascade down her flushed cheeks.
"Shut up! Just shut up, you stupid old bitch!" Uttering the forbidden word had made her feel brave and rebellious, and in spite of her plans to play it especially cool, she suddenly no longer cared what effect her angry words would have. "You...you ugly old bitch! I hate you! I hate you!"
With that, she turned and rushed headlong from the kitchen, almost knocking over her bewildered father who was just coming in the front door.
"Hey, hey, what's this? What's going on here?" he called after her as she raced up the stairs, but she ignored him and slammed her bedroom door so loudly that the whole upper story of the house vibrated.
Bob Salter shook his head wearily; it had been, a grueling day with zero satisfaction at the discount store, and he had hoped against hope that he might be able to enjoy a peaceful, relaxing evening at home. Sighing, he looked up to see his wife standing in the kitchen doorway, a murderous look on her haggard face.
"Did you hear that?" Sally sputtered. "Are you going to let her get away with that?"
"Hear what? Get away with what?" Bob asked, not really wanting to hear her reply.
"She called me a a bitch! Called her own mother a bitch! What are you going to do about that?" the furious woman exclaimed, once again smashing the package of frozen chops on the sink to release her hostilities.
Bob sighed, repressing the sad truth that Sally did, very often, act like a bitch. "I'll go up and talk to her," he offered with an evident lack of conviction.
"You'd better, that's all I can say!" The mother's voice was cracking with anger as she turned back toward the kitchen, and Bob watched her exit before he began a slow ascent to the second floor. What on earth am I going to say to Shannon? he wondered. I don't even know what started all this.
It was a few moments before Shannon, who had thrown herself upon the bed and was weeping unconsolably, heard the hesitant tapping on her bedroom door.
"Go away!" she cried. "I don't want to talk to you."
"It's Poppa," Bob called. "Let me in, Shannon."
Relieved that at least it wasn't her mother, and hoping that perhaps he could run interference for her, the tearful teenager flung open the door.
"What do you want?" she asked in a sulky voice, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand and scowling in a most unwelcoming manner.
"I...I think we should have a little talk," Bob suggested, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on the edge of his daughter's bed. "What seems to be the matter?"
"Oh, Mom's acting awful again," Shannon sniffed, pleased that she had said "awful" and not one of the four-letter words that were on her mind. "She's not going to let me go out tonight because of what happened last Friday. But she already took away my allowance for two weeks, so it's not fair, and...." her voice broke off as another sob rose in her throat.
"She's only thinking of your own good, Shannon," the father said unconvincingly. "Where did you want to go that's so important, anyway?"
"To the concert in Santa Barbara. Oh, Poppa, I just have to go...I'll die if I can't!"
Concert in Santa Barbara? But she was just a little girl...what did she want to be running off to Santa Barbara for? With his memory racing. Bob Salter stared at his teenage daughter, wondering where this unfamiliar, belligerent adolescent with her voluptuous body and absurd demands had come from. It seemed only yesterday that he had pushed her among the aisles of the supermarket in the little seat of a shopping cart...that he was reading her a bedtime story while she sat on his knee in her pink flannel nightgown. What had happened to those happy, hopeful days?
"But you can't go all the way to Santa Barbara, honey," he began. "How do you...."
"Oh, I don't care what you say anyway!" Shannon raged. "You just parrot what Mom tells you to say. I hate you as much as I hate her. You're just a stupid old man!"
"Now listen here...."
"No, I don't have to listen to you! You're just stupid, and I don't care what you think. It's my life, and I'm going to do what I want! And you'll be sorry someday! You'll be sorry you treated me so mean!"
"That's just about enough!" Bob cried, grabbing his daughter's slim shoulders and shaking her so hard that her head shook from side to side while strands of her straight brown hair grazed against his cheeks. "You're not to talk to me that way, do you understand?"
"I'll t-talk to you however I w-want to!" Shannon stammered, struggling to pull herself away from his grasp.
"You're asking for it! Your mother's right after all you need to be taught a lesson you won't forget. And I'm going to spank you so hard you'll learn to keep your mouth shut and show respect for your parents."
"You wouldn't dare!" Shannon taunted, ignoring the ominous shiver of fear that ran up and down her backbone at his threat. She'd never before seen her mild-mannered father quite so furious, and it was hard for her to believe that it was really happening, the frightful things they were saying to each other.
"That's what you think!" Bob shouted, forcing his daughter's slender frame down over his lap. He was about to spank her now that she was nearly an adult in a way he never dared to when she was a child. Her taut, rounded buttocks met his eyes; and the enraged father slapped the palm of his hand against the jean-covered cheeks, feeling an oddly frightening thrill of satisfaction from the physical contact.
"Poppa!" Shannon wailed, shocked and humiliated by his unexpected show of force. She had not been spanked for years, not since she was a very tiny child, and even then it was always her mother who wielded the paddle. She never dreamed that he would really strike her now that she was, in her own eyes if in no one else's, an adult.
"You can't do this to me!" she cried.
"Oh. can't I?" the angry father countered, applying another stinging slap to his young daughter's quivering buttocks.
Bob was striking his little girl's sensitive flesh with more force than he realized or intended, and the blows were extraordinarily painful for Shannon. Still more agonizing, however, was the degradation of being treated in this humiliating fashion by her own father. Hot tears gathered behind her eyelids, but Shannon refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing them roll down her cheeks.
"I hate you! You...you beast," the miserable young girl wailed, beating her fists against her father's still muscular thighs in frustration. Then, as an unusually severe blow fell upon her upturned ass-cheeks, she caught her breath and fell silent.
But I won't cry! I won't! she vowed to herself. And I'll get even with him somehow...I'll make him sorry he did this!
Again and again Bob brought his violent palm down upon the pliant, strangely alluring mounds of his rebellious teenage daughter's buttocks. His white rage was heightened by the courageous way in which Shannon gritted her teeth and stubbornly refused to acknowledge that he was hurting her. Somehow he would have felt better if she had wept and pleaded for forgiveness like a small child. Almost irrationally now, he lowered his palm again and again, not even aware that his hand had grown red and stinging from the effort. A strange gleam appeared in his dark eyes, and when Shannon glanced up at his face, she scarcely recognized her own father.
"I despise you!" she cried again, struggling to get away from his strong arms. "You'll be sorry! You'll regret this."
The furious father yanked her back onto his lap and held her firmly in position with vise-like grip. As her slim, taut-muscled young thighs and flat girlish belly squirmed in protest against his loins, the normally passive businessman suddenly became surprisingly aware of the lustful throbbing in his swollen penis. Disconcerted, he paused for a short moment with his open palm suspended in midair.
Jesus Christ! he exclaimed to himself in disgust. What's the matter with me anyway'I I better stop spanking her before she feels my hard-on.
Even as he considered this, however, Bob glanced down at the inviting half-moons of his daughter's trembling buttocks. Before he could stop himself, his hand crashed down, smacking her again and again.
Oh, God, when is he going to stop? Shannon cried silently.
In spite of her valiant efforts to hide the fact that he was hurting her, two salty streams of tears began to flow down her flushed cheeks while her breath came in silent, body-shaking sobs. As the humiliated young lady increased her efforts to break away from her enraged father, she suddenly became aware of a strange stiffness rising beneath the fabric of his trousers. The hard, rapidly growing object was pressing directly against her Levi-protected pussy, and after her experiences with Dave and Don, Shannon knew at once what it was.
Poppa's getting a hard-on! she thought, thoroughly taken aback at the realization, in spite of her recent exposure to two sets of male genitalia. Somehow she had never considered her parents as sexual beings; they seemed too old and dull to have ever made love, or certainly not since she was born. And since she had never seen them naked, she tended to think of them as permanently outfitted in business suit and housedress respectively. Now, however, there was no avoiding the fact that Poppa most certainly did have a penis, just like Dave and Don, and maybe even a larger one from the feel of it. For a minute or two, her shock and curiosity drowned out the pain of his stinging blows on her buttocks, but then an especially well-aimed slap on the tender lower area near her pussy made her forget everything but the burning agony.
Bob had noticed that the harder his hand struck, the more his young daughter twisted upon his lap. His conscious mind, of course, denied any incestuous intention, yet his blows became more and more brutal as the pulsation in his thickening penis grew more insistent. All of a sudden, the dazed man felt his lust-bloated balls spurting out their first streams of hot thick sperm.
"Oh God!" he moaned. "Nooooo!"
Shoving his weeping daughter from his lap with such force that she landed with a heavy thud on the bedroom carpet. Bob Salter groaned as the seething wet, sperm shot out along the length of his pulsating organ and drenched his jockey shorts with its sticky fluid. The orgasm was a powerful one, the most exciting he had had in years, but after only instants, the horrified father's erotic pleasure was devoured by an overwhelming shame.
With a guilty glance at his daughter, who lay spread-eagled upon the floor with her long brown hair spread out over the beige carpet, her voluptuous young body shaking with sobs, the stricken father dashed from her room. What had been left of value in his world had now crashed down around his head, and he wondered how he was ever going to be able to face his daughter again. Hurrying to the bathroom, he stared in the mirror at his pale face as though it were the property of some other man. Then he tore off his clothes and jumped into the shower.
Forget about it, he urged himself, scrubbing at his body as if to erase the shameful memory of what had happened. If you don't forget it, you'll go crazy. But even as he told himself this, the distraught father knew that he would never be able to forget the way he had cum so obscenely in his pants while spanking his innocent daughter. Even now, in spite of his intense shame, he felt a tingling sensation in his traitorous penis at the thought of how her curvaceous body had inspired him to a level of passion that no other woman could approach.
* * *
For a few minutes after her father had made his hasty exit, Shannon continued to lie on the floor of her bedroom. Her slim body shook with loud sobs which she no longer attempted to control; and when she touched her violated buttocks, they burned with an agonizing heat.
At last, the teenager came to her senses as the pain subsided. An almost hysterical giggle rose in her throat at the memory of how embarrassed her father had looked as he rushed from her room after cumming in his pants. But the bitter amusement changed at I once to resolute determination to make him good and sorry for what he'd done to her. She knew now that she had her weapon.
"I'll run away!" she muttered aloud as she dragged herself from the floor and began to clean her face and apply fresh makeup. "I'll do just like Don said I'll climb out the window. Why not? Mom and Poppa hate me anyway; and I hate both of them now. Why shouldn't I go and live with people who'll treat me with respect...people who love me."
As she quickly shed her jeans and put on a very short yellow dress with matching tights, the young girl formulated her plan. The more she thought about running away from home, the better it sounded to her.
They'll be sorry all right! she gloated as she ran a brush through her long hair. They'll go crazy worrying about where I am!
After carefully locking the door of her bedroom, the excited and rebellious teenager picked up the purse into which she had stuffed her savings $10.00. A pine tree grew just outside her window and she knew that she could easily climb down it without even messing up her skirt and blouse or running her yellow tights. She had tried doing it once on a dare. Now, glancing for a moment around the room which had been her refuge for so long and which she knew she would never see again she slid one petite leg up over the sill.
"You'll be sorry!" she whispered to her absent parents. Then, feeling as though she were escaping from Alcatraz into a new exciting life, she propelled her lithe form into the tree and descended effortlessly through the scented branches into the cool spring evening.
"It serves you both right!" she added as she jumped lightly from the lowest branch and set off at a near run for Don's temporary residence at the edge of town.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Santa Barbara TV studio was at least four times as large as the familiar Glendale High cafetorium, and it was obviously a professional establishment. It was not surprising that Shannon felt uncomfortable and more than a little out of place as she stood in a corner near the temporarily-installed soft drink stand watching the milling throng of rock fans slowly make their way into the network audience auditorium. The counter-culture rock fans looks out of place too in this twenty-first century television palace where the personnel appeared as monochromatic as the decor.
Biting her lips to keep back the tears that threatened to pour from her big brown eyes. Shannon took a deep breath and tried to decide what she ought to do next. For a moment she longed for the safety of her own bedroom. Why, oh why. had she ever left home? Where was Don now? Was she stranded all alone in this strange city where she had come on the Greyhound bus after she had found no one home at the young men's hillside house. What was she going to do?
Then, just as she was beginning to panic, she caught sight of a familiar face among the crowd. "Debbie," she called out. "Debbie, it's Shannon! Over here!" She even forgot to be embarrassed for not having asked Debbie to come along with her tonight.
"What are you doing here?" Debbie asked as soon as she had pushed her way over to her girlfriend. "This is my cousin. Norma, who you've heard me talking about the one who knows all the big stars!"
Shannon stared at Norma, who not only had the most improbable shade of hair a sort of apricot color like people sometimes dye their white poodles but she also had the most enormous pair of breasts, ones that even made Debbie look a little on the flat-chested side.
"I...I came with Don Allen." she began, and then wished she hadn't. How could she explain to her girlfriend that the program's star had seemed cool toward her when she had approached him earlier? She had arrived well ahead of time, gone out to the studio, and had finally mustered enough courage to ask an employee to talk to Don Allen. To her surprise the young employee had treated her politely, like someone who could actually be a friend of a big celebrity. But when Don himself came out, their conversation was short-lived and unusually cool on his part.
"Really? Gosh, I can't believe it! How groovy!" Debbie squealed, not knowing the rest. Her excited reaction made Shannon feel confident and proud once more.
The moment of triumph, however, was short-lived.
"Don?" Norma asked, batting her false eyelashes against her cheeks. "Oh, you mean that prissy blond guy that announces the show? He's no big deal not compared to the real musicians. He just makes money off other guys' talent. His TV show is just one little part of this festival, the 'squaresville' part that can be shown on TV."
"Oh, yeah?" Shannon asked. She had been too involved in her own troubles to pay much attention to the big posters displayed in the studio, but now her interest perked up. She had only taken the time to stop at the one that carried a large glossy photo of handsome, blond Don Allen in his establishment garb of blazer and turtleneck. And it was still in that light that she thought of him, or chose to think of him, rather than in that crazy costume he wore at the party. She kept wondering if the people here at the studio knew he smoked hash and made tun of religion by wearing a priest's outfit as a party costume.
Norma sighed. "The lead singer in any of these groups makes Don Allen look like a Sunday school teacher. I wouldn't waste my time, if I were you, hanging around with a guy who just exploits other guys' talent, but then it's your life. Maybe you're just not tuned in on real sound."
"I think she's right," Debbie hastened to agree, not perturbed by having just changed horses in mid-stream.
"Anyhow, if you came here to be with Don Allen as his date, then how come you're standing out here talking to us?" Norma inquired, astutely staring at Shannon to indicate that she didn't believe a word her cousin's friend had said.
"Th-the d-director wouldn't let me stay," Shannon stuttered. She could feel her face turning red, and she immediately decided she hated Norma. Still, the older girl had managed to raise a doubt about Don in her already confused mind, and for a moment, she felt a tingle of excitement run up her spine at the thought of meeting a star who was even more famous and handsome than Don.
"Bullshit!" Norma exclaimed, shocking the still-innocent Shannon with her casual use of the vulgar word. "Come on. I know how we can get inside. Why should we be hanging around here when we could be back there with the stars while they're getting ready to go on?"
A few minutes later, the three girls found themselves tiptoeing down a narrow hallway with Norma in the lead. When they reached an Unmarked door at the end of the stark modern corridor, the apricot-haired girl of twenty pulled a key from her purse and unlocked it.
"Where'd you get that?" Debbie asked in worshipful respect for her older cousin.
"Oh. I got it when the Sunburst group was here last month," Norma answered, her enormous jugs heaving in pride. "They weren't anything special, but at least they were good for something! They didn't even want to fuck I think they must have been queer or something."
Shannon, in spite of her recent personal experiences, was quite embarrassed by the other girl's words spoken in public. Then, as she saw the door open to reveal a dressing room, she forgot everything else.
"Hey, guys, it's three cute little groupies!" someone called out.
Debbie's elbow prodded her in the back, propelling her forward, and Shannon found herself blushing furiously as all ten of the half-naked males in the dressing room stared at her with lewd curiosity. The small room was heavy with a sweet-smelling smoke which she immediately identified as being marijuana, and she felt slightly dizzy just from the fumes.
"That one looks pretty good," another voice drawled. "Hey girls, you wanna come to a far-out party after we get through playing this show?"
"Why not?" Norma agreed for all of them, since Shannon and Debbie were speechless as they stared at the youth who had spoken. He was, as all but Shannon recognized, the drummer of the world-famous English rock group Haviland Flyer, but what really caught their attention was the fact that he was totally naked.
"Wait a sec, Pete," one of the others remarked, in a funny British accent. "We don't want just anyone coming to our party, do we?"
"Good thinking," the naked drummer agreed in a similar dialect. "We'll make them prove they're serious by donating their panties to our collection. That way we'll know they're okay." He turned to the three young girls. "Come on, girls, off with your panties!"
Shannon's low gasp of horror went unheard under the cover of her girlfriends' loud giggles. The incredulous youngster watched as Debbie and Norma eagerly peeled off their tiny bikini panties and handed them to Pete, who tossed them into a suitcase. Feeling as though she had just been plunged into the midst of some dreadful nightmare. Shannon stared down at the odd assortment of female underwear which overflowed form the leather suitcase.
I can't do it! she screamed silently. I can't! I won't!...It's...it's perverted!
The confused girl's eyes roved in desperation around the crowded dressing room looking for Don. who was sitting quietly in a corner letting the guys from Haviland Flyer dominate the scene. Fixing her large eyes on his impassive face, she flashed a silent plea for help. Then, as he turned away, she flushed beet-red and glanced back at Pete, the English drummer.
"Well, my little bird." leered the naked foreign musician, moving so close to Shannon that his half-erect penis brushed against her bare thigh. "Let's get moving right after the show. No birds with panties come to our party!"
Who cares about Don anyway. Shannon tried to convince herself. This guy's cute, and he's famous all over the world. Norma said. I'll go with him that'll show Don.
Quickly, before she could think herself out of it, the blushing teenager reached up under her short skirt and pulled down her sheer yellow tights that were her only underwear. With trembling lingers, yet with her heart still filled with determination. Shannon handed the limp garment to the naked musician.
"Oh. look at that, first yellow ones we've ever collected." he said with delight, and then added.
"Okay, right after the show we'll pile into the buses." At the moment, he grabbed his own clothes to dress for the performance. He struggled into them without breaking his eye lock with Shannon's young body. Jesus! he congratulated himself. What a sexy little cunt I've gotten hold of this time. She looks like the innocent kind I'll have to teach her a few things! A lewd smirk crossed his handsome face at the thought, for Pete enjoyed nothing more than debasing a naive and trusting female. Then he opened the door, indicating they were about to start the show, and that the girls should take their seats.
Cold air wafted up under Shannon's short skirt and made her unprotected pussy tingle in a thrilling way. causing her to feel more reckless than before. She wondered if people sensed when a woman wasn't wearing any underwear, or more specifically, if anyone who had seen her before had noticed that now her legs were bare of the yellow hose.
* * *
After the show, she found herself jammed next to Pete in the back of a crowded VW bus, and noticed that his piercing gaze was still focused on her face. Something in his manner sent a cold shiver of fearful anticipation sliding up and down her backbone. It so preoccupied her that it seemed no time at all before the buses came to a standstill outside a TraveLodge motel.
"Here we are! Everyone out!" Pete cried, pulling Shannon close to him and rubbing her scantily-covered breasts in a way that made her feel both embarrassed and excited. "O.K., guys, this is going to be one hell of a party tonight!"
The TraveLodge lobby was filled with a number of conservatively dressed middle-aged people wearing Elks Club badges, all looking like parents at a PTA meeting. They stared in astonishment at the strangely garbed young people who had descended upon the hotel.
"Just take a look at that!" one woman who reminded Shannon of her mother exclaimed to her husband. "They shouldn't be allowed in a respectable place like this!"
"Such a bunch of weirdoes," the man agreed, his loud, drunken voice echoing across the lobby as he threw a surreptitious glance at Shannon's lovely legs and Norma's stupendous breasts thrusting through her see-through blouse. "Can't understand what's the matter with kids these days."
Shannon overheard them and couldn't repress a low giggle of rebellious glee. I'm never going to have to listen to that again! she rejoiced silently. I I'm going to be with people like Pete, not a bunch of old people who don't know where it's at. She wasn't thinking of Don at that moment because after having just seen his rather square show, she wasn't sure which side of the fence he was on. But as she followed one step behind the Haviland Flyer drummer who was leading the group to their double suite, she could feel the band promoter's eyes boring into her back. So what? she told herself. Don wouldn't talk to me before, and I'm not going to even look at him now. Who needs him? Pete is much taller, and bigger in the music world, just like Norma said. Her eyes were riveted to the famous musician's rippling back muscles as he unlocked the door, and the shivering excitement deep within her loins was growing stronger than ever. She was sure his cock must be larger than either Dave's or Don's, or even her father's.
The moment the group entered the air-conditioned suite, things began happening so quickly that Shannon felt as though she were sitting in the eye of a hurricane. She huddled in an uncomfortable armchair near the window while people rushed around ordering bottles of wine and vodka on the telephone, rolling joints and filling pipes, and setting up a portable stereo which began to blare tapes of Salt Fagle and Haviland Flyer. Someone passed her a fat joint already lighted, and she drew deeply on it, grateful for the way it calmed her jangling nerves and made the entire scene seem quite warm and familiar instead of bizarre. Once she caught Don's eyes on her, but again she avoided his gaze.
Don himself was feeling depressed in a way that eventually results from regular large doses of alcohol and dope. And these moods were always more intense after a performance which pointed up, even to his rapidly-deteriorating mind, the hypocrisy of his stage personality. His guts were even to the point where he could hardly choke down the glass of Coke necessary for the commercials, and he wondered how many people noticed.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his mind off the delectable nymphet sealed in the opposite corner of the TraveLodge suite. He had not been especially enthusiastic when she had showed up at the studio earlier in the day and said that she had run away from home to live with him. At first the whole idea had seemed so threatening that the cynical celebrity had been tempted to laugh in her face until he had looked at her pathetic expression and tear-reddened eyes. Although he didn't like himself when he felt sympathetic it made him too vulnerable he couldn't quite bring himself to tell her to go to hell either. Instead, he had reacted ambivalently to protect his own fear of involvement. He had been short and rude, and now he was sorry. She looked so inviting curled up in that oversize chair that it made his penis throb in eagerness to respond. Yet she refused to look at him. Instead, her lovely brown eyes were glued to the Haviland Flyer's famous drummer, Pete.
I've really blown it this time, Don told himself. And just because that guy is internationally famous. Don Allen, unfortunately for himself, shared Norma's opinion of Pete, that is, that only the musicians themselves are real artists, and that guys like himself, however successful they may become as entertainers and promoters, are still second rate. Well, that's life, he decided.
The disconsolate star drained his glass of vodka and immediately poured another. The best thing to do, he concluded, was to get drunk as quickly as possible and then fuck any willing pussy that happened to be around so that he could forget the sexy youngster who had the audacity to reject him.
Nearly everyone else in the room seemed to have the same goal, for whatever their motives may have been. The first two bottles were quickly emptied and the next order was for four more, since a second contingent of groupies had just arrived. According to the rules, Pete required that they all remove their panties, some of which he hung from the knobs of the color television set.
Shannon observed Pete's every move, her slender body feeling more and more neglected as she sipped a glass of vodka and orange juice that someone had placed in her hand. Her mind too was troubled with guilty thoughts of her parents which she somehow couldn't manage to shut out.
II only Pete would talk to me. I'd feel happy again, she thought. He could make me stop feeling lonely and afraid. When at last the drummer came over to her, she was so delighted that she couldn't speak.
"Let's go in the other room," Pete said.
It was more of a command than a suggestion, and Shannon stood up and blindly followed the tall lanky drummer. It'll feel good to get away from all the noise and the smoke, she rationalized to herself, still unwilling to accept what she knew was really going to happen in the other room. In spite of her exploits of the previous weekends. Shannon was still basically naive, and her conscience was continuing to echo the morality which her parents had preached, if not always practiced, from the day she was born.
The room into which Pete led the intoxicated young brunette was dark, but it was not empty. As the drummer pushed on the button that controlled the bedside radio, two startled cries rose from the king-sized bed. It was Don Allen and Debbie, and they were both completely naked!
Shannon gasped, feeling both hurt and aroused at the sight of the voluptuous body of her best girlfriend entwined with the same muscular body that she herself held close less than a week ago. Then she began to feel vindictive. Don sure didn't waste any time, she thought. Well, when he sees who I'm with, he'll be sorry he treated me so mean!
"What're you guys doing here?" Pete drawled, picking a thick joint from his velvet trouser pocket and handing it, lighted, to a grateful Shannon.
The fourteen year old drew on it deeply, longing for the euphoric forgetfulness which she knew it would provide. In two short weeks the adolescent had learned that alcohol and hashish had the power to envelop her in a hazy cloud in which self-consciousness and loneliness had no place. She had learned too that the drugs evaporated away the guilt and blanked out her conscience, enabling her to do all the forbidden things her stimulated body desired.
"Same things you guys had in mind, I suppose," Don rejoined.
Pete stared at them for a moment, then handed the joint to the young band promoter in a gesture of friendliness. "Well, the more the merrier, I always say," he said, a lecherous glint flickering in his dark-circled eyes.
"Okay by me," Don grinned, giving Debbie a light slap on her firm white buttocks which made her giggle uncertainly.
"I got an idea," Pete snapped his fingers. "Let's have these two cute little groupies put on a show for us!"
Don glanced quickly at Shannon and once again felt a twinge of pity at the sight of the strained and fearful look on her pale face. But why should I feel sorry for a little bitch like her? he asked himself. She's just like all the rest-out to fuck the biggest star around. She deserves everything that's going to happen to her! Moreover, it was not a good idea to antagonize Pete, who happened to be one of the more influential people in the entire pop music business. He had been trying without success for some time to sign up the Haviland Flyer for a tour of the United States with his show, but with no success. Maybe a stunt like this would help.
"Sounds like a good idea, he nodded to Pete.
"Okay, baby, get out of your clothes and let's see a real good show here." Pete ordered, squeezing Shannon's left breast so hard it sent a bolt of pain laced with a strange pleasure shooting through her young body.
"S-show?" Shannon asked. She didn't quite understand what he wanted, but a cold premonition told her that it was something wicked and forbidden.
"Yeah, baby, a show, and I don't want to have to wait the whole bloody night for it. either."
Shannon gazed up into the drummer's face, wondering how she had ever thought he was handsome. A bestial, almost sadistic cast had transformed his features into a brutal mask of lust, and the fearful young girl began to tremble.
"If you don't want to do it yourself, then I'll help you!" Pete offered, his eyes becoming thin slits of inhuman lust as he bent over her.
"I...I...." Shannon began, but before she could protest, she felt herself being flung back onto the bed. "Nooooooooo!" she gasped, but already Pete's strong hands were yanking off her clothes.
He grasped at her blouse first, ripping it away without undoing the buttons which scattered soundlessly over the plush carpet. The frightened teenager tried to cover her bare breasts with her hands, but the English drummer wrenched her arms back behind her head and pinioned them there.
"I'll hold her while you get her skirt off," Pete said to Don, who obediently undid the squirming girl's skirt and flung it over a chair. As he gazed down at the silky pubic curls nestled in a shadowy brown triangle between her slim thighs, his already half-erect cock throbbed in aching remembrance of the way her tight little cunt had felt last week.
Shit, I wish I'd gone over and started to talk to Shannon, he thought. I could've patched things up in a minute. Then I'd he fucking her by now instead of doing whatever weird thing that Pete wants to do. He had. in fact, been at the point of going over to her when her chesty girlfriend had come over to him, shoved her big tits in his face and almost dragged him into the bedroom. Don glanced at Debbie now; she wasn't nearly as pretty as Shannon, but she did have quite a set of knockers. Maybe, he decided as his cock again lurched crazily into the air, Pete didn't have such a bad idea after all. I'm gonna' get a kick out of seeing these two cute little cunts do it to each other.
"Okay, now you hold her feet," Pete instructed Don. "And you." he turned to Debbie with a lecherous half-smile, "get in between her legs."
Shannon opened her eyes at his words and turned toward her girlfriend. The platinum blonde was staring at her girlfriend with the dazed expression that results from too much alcohol and too many drugs, but she turned her eyes away when she began to inch toward Shannon's futilely struggling body.
"Stop that!" Pete ordered, putting his knee to one of the struggling brunette's ankles and bending forward to pinch at one of her nipples with all his strength.
"Ahhhhhhhhh! Stop, oh, please stop!" Shannon gasped as a hot jab of pain cut straight from her tortured nipple down to her helplessly quivering vagina.
"Not until you stop kicking your legs around," the sadistic drummer warned, giving her nipple another rough tweak and then a stinging slap.
"Owwwwhhhh!" the girl moaned piteously. II only I'd never come to this horrible party! she thought. Oh God. what are they going to do to me? And how can Don go along with them? I thought he loved me. Throughout Don's part of the program, she had found it difficult to keep her mind on what he had been saying. It just didn't make sense when he spoke directly to his TV viewers about the Salt Eagle and what a fine example of the American success story they were. He had even interviewed some of the mothers and dads of the musicians by direct telephone line to tell them how important parents are to the success of young people. II that's what he thinks, then why had he suggested that she flagrantly disobey her own parents:' He even had talked about God's will a couple of times, how he hoped the Lord would see to it that his new discovery would become top international rock stars. He smiled and did his usual Coke commercial, with lines about caring for our God-given bodies. She wondered if he really thought hash was good for people's health and if he really believed in God. And if he cared about all these things, and eared about her. what was he doing getting ready to torture her?
"Debbie...Debbie...you can't," she whispered as she felt her girlfriend's smooth leg graze against her own wide-held thigh. Looking up, she shot Debbie a piteous look of appeal.
"Why not?" Debbie replied, with a great deal more certainty than she actually felt. She was determined to appear sophisticated and desirable before the two famous stars. This was far more important to her right now than any loyalty she felt toward her younger friend. "Don't be so silly. If Don and Pete want us to do it, it'll be fun." Then the brazen blonde smiled up at the two entertainers who, much to her annoyance, were both staring down at Shannon's fear-contorted face.
"But it's...it's not right...it's...oooohhhhhhh nooooo!" Shannon groaned as Debbie crawled between her legs and knelt there, her large breasts like overripe melons obscuring Shannon's vision of Don. When she turned her eyes upward, however, she could still see Pete's sadistic face leering down at her.
"Touch her tits," the drummer rasped.
"Come on. whatever your name is, touch them!"
"Debbie," the girl giggled her own name drunkenly.
"Okay, Debbie...now let's see some real action!"
Shannon's entire young body stiffened as she felt the cool touch of her friend's soft palm against her left breast. Her flesh was still burning from Pete's brutal treatment, and the gentle, feminine caress seemed to soothe away the last remnants of pain. For an instant she began to relax her fear-tensed muscles, but then the realization of what was happening struck her once again.
"No...no...Debbie...you mustn't...it's wrong...." she mumbled.
"Give her a smoke," Don suggested, picking up a joint from the ashtray on the bedside table and passing it to Pete, who pressed it in between Shannon's tightly clenched lips.
"Draw in, you silly little bitch!" he ordered, pinching her nostrils to force her mouth open.
Shannon, who was growing more and more afraid of the foreign drummer, made no further protest and sucked in the thick smoke. II might make this easier to bear, she told herself. Or at least maybe I'll he able to stop thinking.
Much to her relief, the marijuana did serve to dim her accusing conscience, while at the same time heightening the pleasant sensations spreading throughout her loins as Debbie explored her breasts with tentative, curious strokes.
Rather to her surprise, Debbie discovered that she was enjoying herself. Her friend's beautifully-formed breasts, so much smaller than her own, quivered beneath her touch. What will the rest of her body feel like? the intoxicated blonde thought to herself, tweaking at Shannon's nipples until they stood out from her breasts, impatiently hoping for more. Whereas she had initially begun doing this forbidden thing only to impress the rock stars, she now found herself wanting to continue and hoping to make her younger friend enjoy it as much as she was.
"Those are quite some tits," Pete commended. "Now kiss her lie down on top of her and kiss her on the lips." he continued in his funny English accent.
"Nooooooooooooo," Shannon gasped again. It was. somehow, even more perverted to kiss Debbie's lips than it was to have her friend touch her breasts. She had heard about sick people who got their kicks from doing weird things like that lesbians and the thought of being one of that depraved unnatural group froze her gradually relaxing loins into fearful rigidity.
Her cry was, of course, not heeded. In a moment the humiliated girl who two weeks ago had been still a virgin, felt soft lips grazing her own and a wet tongue pushing gently against her clenched teeth. Again surprised by how soothing and pleasant it felt, she let her lips fall open to allow the warm moist tongue to slither in. It circled in teasing little motions around the sensitive walls of her mouth, then prodded at her own tongue until, with a low sigh. Shannon responded to its insistent caresses.
"Get a look at that!" Don whistled.
"They're really something, those two." Pete leered. "Now, Debbie's gonna kiss her all over...all the way down to her sweet little cunt. Aren't you. Debbie?"
It was a command rather than a question, and Debbie eagerly moved to comply. Planting one last warm kiss on Shannon's no-longer responsive lips, she began to lap along the girl's silk-textured neck until she came down to her breasts. Warming to her task by now, even without Pete telling her how to do it, she paused to lick and suck once more at the soft white mounds, titillating the pink nipples until a low gasp of submission escaped from her friend's lips.
Shannon heard her own sigh of pleasure as though it came from a long distance away. She was really quite stoned, and this, combined with the extreme shock she felt at what was happening, made her feel as though it was all a dream. All thoughts vanished from her drug-confused mind except the exquisite pleasure she was receiving from Debbie's light touches and liquid kisses. Then, as the older girl's full-fleshed breasts grazed warmly along her thigh, a strong, undeniable thrill of desire rang through her naked young body.
What's happening to me? a dim voice in the back of her brain warned. Am I really enjoying this'. ' I must he sick, terribly sick and evil! But the voice was so weak that it was immediately drowned out by another electrical thrill, produced by Debbie's warm wet tongue teasing wildly at her navel, which ignited every one of her sensitive nerve endings.
"Yesssssss," she moaned.
Again, her own voice seemed to echo back as though from a distant mountainside. Excited by her own wantonness. Shannon cried out again, little thrills of relief releasing all her inhibitions and fears making her voice shrill and urgent.
"Yessssssss!"
More excited than ever by Shannon's increasing submission. Debbie lowered her eager lips to her young friend's quivering pubic-mound. The curling brown strands, so different from her own kinky hair, felt silky beneath her exploring tongue, and she groaned out in response.
Until now she had always considered love between two women disgusting, but now, with the two stars goading her on, she found herself strangely attracted by the sight of the narrow ribbon of moist pmk flesh between her friend's sleek inner thighs. Wisps of Shannon's silken pubic hair tickled at her lips and nose as she bent still closer, and an erotic aroma of feminine flesh wafted up into her flaring nostrils.
"Oh. Shannon." she murmured impulsively. "Doesn't it feel nice? Don't you like what I'm doing?" She reached up to suck one of her friend's trembling nipple-buds deep into her mouth, then leaned over Shannon's flushed lace. "Open your eyes. Shannon," she whispered. "Play with my tits too. Please...it's not fair."
A long shudder rose deep in Shannon's body as her older friend's whisper echoed through her brain. Yes, she thought miserably, yes, it does feel nice, and I do want to feel her breasts too. I know it was wrong, hut I just can't help it.
Opening her wide brown eyes, she caught her breath at the sight of Debbie's full, protective breasts hovering just above her own. Half in revulsion, half in helpless captivation, she reached out one timid finger to stroke the satin-smooth flesh of one of the ample breasts. As it quivered beneath her touch, a depraved spasm of lust shot from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.
"Look at the two hot little bitches go at it!" Pete gloated at the success of his project. His long cock was pulsating wildly as he gaped down at the two curvaceous adolescents lewdly fondling each other, and he began to massage its aching length. "Come on, get down to her legs and suck her pussy!" he urged.
Debbie slid her mouth back down from Shannon's heaving breasts, trailing hot wet kisses over her flat belly until her head was once again buried in the fragrance of her friend's feather-soft cuntal hair.
Then she hesitated for a moment, listening to the voice inside her brain that told her that what she was doing was shameful and loathesome. Instead of feeling guilty, however, the drug-driven bottle blonde only found that those last wisps of conscience increased her lascivious delight. How could she stop now, anyway, with Pete and Don watching? What would they do to her?
"No, Debbie, you mustn't! Not that! Nooooooooo!" Shannon groaned as she felt the girl's warm breath upon her sensitive vaginal mound. She tried to pull her trembling legs together, but Debbie began to plant moist tender kisses around her inner thighs, and work her way up to Shannon's throbbing pussy. To her embarrassment, Shannon realized that her pussy was secreting drops of warm viscid moisture, just as it had with Don and Dave, and that the inner lips of her cunt were swollen and puffy from the unwelcome arousal. But was it unwanted? Her natural lubrication was a dead give-away that her body was already participating voluntarily.
"That's it! Goddamn, keep at it! Tongue her till she's screaming for it! Tongue her till she cums!" Pete rasped.
"No...no...no...no...." Shannon chanted weakly, twisting her helpless loins away from Debbie's invading tongue. She heard her girlfriend gasp for air, and then felt Debbie's face bury so deeply in her vagina that her nose brushed against the sensitive bud of Shannon's clitoris. Still murmuring "no", the aroused girl gave in and jerked her limbs upward instead, and began rotating her hips in response to the grazing tickle of her friend's obscene tongue-fucking. A teasing promise of orgasm flicked through her quivering loins, destroying the last vestiges of her will to resist the forbidden lesbian bliss.
"Oh God." she gasped out suddenly. "Oh. Debbie, yessss! It feels so gooooooooood! Do it to me! Please, oh yessss, make me cummmmmmmmm!"
"Uuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm," Debbie responded, her guttural mewl muffled as she lapped up the pearl-like drops of wetness that clung to Shannon's pinkly glistening vagina. Forgetting all else but her lewd, drug-heightened lust, she lashed her tongue deep into the inviting orifice of Shannon's velvet-soft pussy and delighted in the way the girl's body twitched in eager response to her every move.
-Shannon's ass-cheeks began to undulate more frenziedly than ever around the invading tongue which was bringing her such forbidden pleasure. She was aware that the two men were standing above her, their hardened cocks thrusting out from their muscular loins like two arched shafts of angry red flesh, and the obscene spectacle served to increase her passion. A picture of how she and Debbie must look to the musicians flashed before her drug-glazed eyes, sending a vibration of strange masochistic delight shooting through her helpless body.
"Ooooooh yes! Yes!" she wailed. "Yes! like that, like that!" The fourteen year old's mind was shattering into fragments of insatiable lust as she strained for the orgasm that was quickly approaching.
Debbie, whose own youthful body was alive with flames of obscene arousal, lashed her tongue around her girlfriend's swollen pink clitoris until it stood erect as a tiny penis between the throbbing inner lips of her sweet-tasting pussy. Swirling with slow. rhythmic circles in the way she guessed would be most stimulating to her own vagina, she pressed her own full breasts against Shannon's trembling thighs and squeezed the soft white half-moons of her wriggling buttocks between excited fingers.
"God, look at that!" Don murmured, his hardened thickness pulsing in his lewdly massaging hand as he gaped in disbelief at the two naked teenagers writhing in mutual passion upon the oversize bed. Who would have believed that this shamelessly gyrating lesbian had been a virgin just one week before? Jesus Christ, how badly he wanted to be inside her tight little cunt again! Why had he screwed up this evening?
The bedroom of the TraveLodge echoed with obscene wet slushing sounds as Debbie's eager tongue sliced in and out of Shannon's glistening pink vagina, then rose up once again to circle her Stiffened little clitoral bud. All four people in the room were breathing hard, and little slaving gasps rose from the blonde's throat as she buried even her nose deep in her friend's warm, moist cuntal flesh. It was the recognition of this lascivious stimulation that triggered the final maddening spasm in Shannon's convulsing belly and heated cuntal depths.
"Aaaaaahhhhh," she moaned. "Oh, Debbie, Deeeeebbbbbieeeeeee! I'm eummmmmiiinnnggggg!"
Her cries trailed off into a choking sob of pure ecstasy, then rose again to a shrill, inhuman wail, as wave after wave of bittersweet bliss swept through her passion-inflamed young body. Closing her eyes, the wildly climaxing teenager felt all anxiety and tension seep from her body to be replaced by a joy of such intensity that she thought she could not bear her own happiness.
Debbie felt her girlfriend's dilating pussy spasm around her still embedded tongue, and her own aroused loins began to quiver in urgent need for satisfaction. Pushing her full-fleshed thighs together, she undulated in tight contractions like she always did at home in bed, and finally the first tremors of her self-induced climax rose in her belly.
"Meeeee tooooooooo. Shannon!" she whimpered into her friend's vagina, stabbing once again with her tongue even as her own body began to spasm with her maddening orgasm. She knew that when she masturbated she could make herself cum over and over again if she waited for a short interval between each climax, and she wanted Shannon to experience this too.
"Ooooooooohhhhh! I'm cumming again! Ohhhhhhh. Debbie," the lust-fevered brunette moaned.
"Cccccuuuuummmmmmmiiiinnnnggggg! I'm cumming too!" Debbie gasped, clinging with mindless passion to her friend's pliant breasts as her own tight-pressed thighs quivered and shook, and the self-induced orgasm flooded her brain in a shower of rainbow-hued fireworks.
The two astonished, lust-maddened males above them watched the sweat-glistened female bodies shiver in the throes of orgasm after orgasm until they could no longer bear it. The two adolescents' mutual ecstasy was one of the most wanton displays that they had ever seen, even after several years of orgies with innumerable groupies. Both Pete and Don could hardly wait to plunge their aching cocks into the lust-drenched cunts of these incoherently babbling young females who clutched at each other's bodies with such obscene abandon.
After what seemed an eternity of total erotic joy, Debbie's thigh muscles seemed to turn to jelly, and she collapsed heavily upon her girlfriend's equally sated loins. Their lips entwined in one last heated kiss, and then both girls fell into a semi-swoon of total exhaustion.
"Goddamn!" Don gasped. "That's just too much. Shit, I gotta fuck her!"
"So what are you waiting for?" sneered Pete, roughly shoving Debbie's limp body away from Shannon's and positioning his huge, passion-swollen penis over the slender brunette's well-lubricated cuntal channel. "Let's give it to the little bitches!"
Once again the bedroom was filled with the obscene sounds of flesh pressing against naked flesh, of helpless whimpers and guttural groans, of hissing obscenities and at last, ecstatic cries of relief. It was nearly dawn before the insatiable couples fell silent, their bodies sprawled in" satisfied exhaustion upon the cum-stained bed as they sank into deep and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Bright spring sunlight was streaming in through the windows of the TraveLodge when Shannon finally awoke, and birds could be heard outside above the din of the nearby freeway. The bewildered fourteen year old nibbed her eyes, not realizing at first where she was. Then, as her gaze fell upon the naked bodies of her girl friend, Debbie, and the two celebrated rock performers, all the events of the previous evening came back to her in sickening rush.
"Oh no!" she murmured softly, then began coughing as her throat protested against the excessive quantities of grass and hash it had inhaled the night before.
There were louvered vertical shutters on the hotel windows, and as Shannon Salter stared at the three naked bodies sprawled on the bed beside her, they began to waver in a dizzy, surrealistic pattern of gold and gray stripes. I'm still stoned, she thought. What if it never goes away? What if I never feel like a normal person again? Even as she contemplated this, a bitter hand of fear clutched at her heart. How could she ever feel normal again anyway after what she had done last night? Self-remorse surged through the young teenager's aching loins as she recalled the wanton way she had allowed herself to respond to Debbie's lewd caresses, and she knew that nothing would ever be the same again in her whole life.
Gradually her eyes focused, and the horrified girl noticed the whitish stains of dried semen that stuck to her own thighs and to the rumpled bedspread. Debbie's contorted body sprawled beside her, similarly sperm-stained, and Pete, the drummer from Haviland Flyer, was snoring loudly as he lay with his leg draped over her own.
"Oh no, no, no!" Shannon muttered again. Moving silently so as not to awaken the sleeping rock star, she extracted herself from beneath him and stumbled to her feet. Her head was pounding from all the vodka she had drunk: and every muscle in her young body ached, but she scarcely was aware of it. All she could think of was her guilt and repulsion at what she had done, and her need to get out of this corrupt hotel as quickly as possible.
On the floor she found her blouse, all its buttons ripped off, but she grabbed it as well as the matching skirt that hung from a chair, and she hurried toward the bathroom. Much to the naked girl's horror, there were several other nude couples sleeping on the carpeted motel floor, whose bodies she had to step over before reaching the cleansing comfort of the shower.
As she stood beneath the hot cascading water, the young girl began to weep in hopeless despair. No matter how furiously she scrubbed at her sinful body, she still felt stained and soiled. Why didn't I listen to Moma and Poppa? she asked herself. Then none of this would have happened. As she remembered how she had run away from the home that seemed, in retrospect, a haven of safety, her tears fell even faster.
"I want to go home," she sobbed. "I never want to see any of these awful people again, never!"
As she toweled her body dry, a plan was formulating in her hung-over brain. If she left right now, while they were all sleeping, she could call Poppa and ask him to come pick her up. Even if her parents were mad at her even if Poppa spanked her again she had to leave this place or she would go out of her mind. All she desired at this moment was to return to the refuge of childhood where right was right and wrong was wrong and the world made sense.
After fastening her torn blouse by knotting it like a halter top around her flat midriff, she tiptoed from the room and found her way to the lobby in search of a telephone that was out of earshot of the others. To her relief, there was a row of open telephone booths located in a niche on the adjoining wall, so that she did not have to walk across the crowded room in her wrinkled clothes. The teenager was especially worried that since her skirt was so short, and her tights somewhere in a suitcase with the undies of a hundred other girls, that people would be able to sec that she wasn't wearing any panties. She finally mustered enough courage to ask at the magazine counter next to the booths for a dollar's worth of change so she wouldn't have to place the call "collect".
With shaking fingers Shannon inserted her dime to reach the long distance operator and then added the rest of the money as she was directed. Her hands were trembling so that she could barely fit the quarters in the appropriate slot. She heard the ring and waited fearfully for someone to answer the phone in Glendale.
Please let Poppa be the one to pick up the phone, she prayed, crossing her fingers for luck like all little girls do. Then, as she heard her mother's strident voice bark out, "Hello?" she was plunged into immediate despair.
"It's m-me, Shannon," she stammered. "I-I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry for everything. Please come and bring me home now!"
"You...you little brat! You have the audacity to worry us sick, and then think you can call the minute you want to, and we'll just come running."
Mrs. Salter's vindictive hiss pierced her young daughter's eardrum, and the teenager knew at once from the hatred in her mother's voice that there was no forgiveness in the woman's heart. Hot tears began to slide down the unhappy girl's face, and as she mopped them away with the back of her hand, she failed to hear the click of the upstairs extension at her home being lifted from the receiver.
"Where are you?" Sally Salter's furious voice blared into her daughter's ear. "Where are you calling from, you filthy tramp?"
"Santa Barbara," Shannon managed to answer. "From the TraveLodge."
"Well, you can just stay there! Stay there with whatever man you picked up. We never want to see your face in this house again, you little slut!" All the bitterness she had felt for so long against her pretty young daughter rose to the surface in a bitter desire for revenge. "You can do whatever you please with your life, just like you wanted to. But don't you bother to come to us for help if you get pregnant, you ungrateful hussy. I never want to set eyes on you again! You've disgraced your family, and I've had enough!"
The receiver slammed in Shannon's ear, but she continued to clutch the telephone receiver like a drowning person continues to grasp a fragment of driftwood too weak to sustain his weight.
"Please, Mom!" she whispered into the dead instrument. "Please help me!"
But the line was dead, the connection irrevocably cut. Shannon stared at the holes in the white plastic receiver for some minutes, counting distractedly the holes in the mouthpiece, and knowing that each was as silent as her own heart which seemed to have stopped beating. Then as she felt the cool eyes of the receptionist boring into her, she gingerly replaced the receiver and backed off down the-hall toward the suite full of people she never wanted to lay eyes on again.
The moment she pushed open the door, a heavy scene composed of stale hashish and semen assaulted her nostrils. The sound of running water from the adjacent bathroom told her that she was not the only one awake, and as her despair-dimmed eyes glanced over the room, she realized that Debbie and Don Allen must be sharing the shower.
Well, what does it matter anyway ? What does anything matter? she thought to herself, a cold despair engulfing her as the cruel words her mother had spoken echoed through her brain sounding the knell of doom. We never want to see your face again! We never want to see your face again, you little slut!
"It's not true! It can't be true," Shannon whispered to herself, stepping over the still-sleeping bodies sprawled on the floor as she made her way to the glass doors. Sliding one open, she inhaled the fresh, earthy-smelling April air deep into her lungs. It seemed cleaner here than in Glendale and it revived her somewhat. The sun was still there, and the grass, and the trees, and even the freeway...so it wasn't really the end of the world.
Maybe it's the start of a new life. Shannon thought, trying to strengthen her spirits. After all, I wanted to be grown up...to live on my own...but...but I didn't want to have it happen this way.
A fresh spurt of tears welled up in her blood-shot eyes and she tried to dab them away before anyone woke up and noticed. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to a disinterested sparrow who was having his own troubles trying to lug a piece of tangled gray string back to the nest he was building. "What's going to happen to me now?" Resting her burning forehead in her hands, the distraught teenager fought to regain her self-composure so she could think logically about what she should do.
For a few minutes Shannon considered the possibility of going home in spite of her mother's harsh words. She couldn't imagine that her parents not Poppa, at least could turn her away if she were actually standing on the doorstep. She still had $5.00 in her wallet, plus a little change. That ought to be enough to buy a bus ticket back to Glendale. If it wasn't, then she'd get a ride with Debbie or hitchhike if she had to. And she remembered learning from a police officer who gave a talk to her social studies class that it's illegal for parents to abandon their children, regardless of what they do.
At the thought of her girl friend Debbie, all the shameful memories of last night flooded back into the confused adolescent's head. She remembered the wanton way she had writhed beneath her girl friend's lips, and knew that she couldn't ever look Debbie in the face again. For that matter, how could she face her parents? She was not the same little girl she had been, and even if they would take her in, she'd never be able to stand her mother treating her like a child again.
Besides, Shannon reflected, proudly tossing her head back, why should I go begging to them? I don't want to be with Mom and Poppa any more than they want to be with me!
She turned from the window to stare at the sleeping Figures scattered around the room, no longer feeling repulsion at the sight of them. After all, at least these people liked her. They accepted her and wanted her around.
"Hey, baby, whatcha doing up so early?" Pete called sleepily from the bed, jolting Shannon from her heavy scene. "Why don't you pick up the phone and have room service send up some coffee and juice, huh?"
"Sure," Shannon smiled obediently at him, the cloud of black despair lifting from her heart a little as she looked into his deep dark eyes.
I wouldn't go back home if they paid me to! she told herself as she dialed room service. Why should I? this is the life! I'm with exciting famous people...I can travel all over with Pete...maybe even go to England...it's fantastic! Forcing herself to ignore the little voice in the back of her brain that told her this was a lie, she crossed over to the bed and sat down beside Pete, who gave her a casual kiss.
"Gotta take a shower," he mumbled. "Fix me a joint to have with my coffee, okay?" He pulled some cigarette papers and a little bag of grass from the bedside table drawer and pushed them at her, then stumbled to the bathroom and pounded on the door.
"Hurry the fuck up in there," he demanded to whoever was still occupying the shower.
Don yanked the door open, his long hair wet and disheveled. "Yeah, yeah, okay...." he muttered, moving into the bedroom and glancing with embarrassment at Shannon.
"Where's your girl friend?" he asked at last. He really didn't much care she'd been a fair enough piece of ass, but pretty stupid, and there were a hundred other pairs of knockers like hers in every town.
"I thought she was with you," Shannon replied. "I guess she must have left."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"I mean, what're you going to do? Are you really going to run away from home or what?" Don found himself wanting to say that she could come and move in with him; for he found himself unusually attracted to this slender wistful girl, but he was sure that she was more interested by now in Pete because of his international reputation as a rock star.
He sighed, wondering what she'd be like in five years; not fresh and sweet, that was for sure...probably knocked up or freaked out on drugs or something if she hung around with Pete and the guys who would follow him. Still it wasn't any of his business that was the way things were in this world.
"I sure did!" Shannon answered. "And I'm never going back either! I'm just going to have a good time." She laughed, a harsh, bitter laugh that sounded strange even to her own ears.
The waiter rang the bell, and Don opened the door just enough to accept the tray, but not wide enough for the man to see the bodies spread around on the carpet. He carried the tray of fruit and juice over to where Shannon sat on the side of the bed. He plopped down beside her, noticing at once how red her eyes were.
"Here," he said, fishing in his pocket for the little box that contained his pill collection. "Take a couple of these "sopors" they'll make you feel better."
Shannon stared at him for a moment, wondering how he knew she was upset. Then she looked down at the two pills he had handed her. Although she knew you shouldn't pop pills when you don't know what you're taking-she'd had that drummed into her head in health class at school she didn't want to seem square now that Don was starting to be so nice to her again. Pouring a glass of juice, she swallowed them down. What does it matter anyway? she asked herself. I'm free now I can do whatever I please!
Within ten minutes the young blonde was aware of a dreamy euphoria stealing throughout her body. All her worries melted; and she felt as though her body were made of feathers and was off floating somewhere on its private cloud of joy. When she stood up, she kept bumping into things, but that didn't even matter. What mattered was that she was happy now...so very, very happy...
* * *
When Bob Salter heard his wife slam down the telephone, he stood holding the dead receiver of the extension phone just as his daughter had done at the other end in an unknown phone booth. A flash of pure hatred for Sally slashed through his heart, and the furious husband finally banged down the impotent receiver and raced downstairs to confront his wife.
"How could she?" he muttered, clenching his fists to his sides in anger. "How could she treat her own daughter like that, no matter what she did?"
All night long he had tossed and turned in his bed, unable to forget the way he had spanked his young daughter and how he was probably responsible for her failure to come home on time. Yet every time he saw her taut, well-rounded buttocks in his imagination he could feel his penis stiffening inside his pajamas, and this made him feel guiltier than ever. What, he wondered sadly, must the poor kid be thinking of him? At last, after promising himself to apologize to her the first thing in the morning, he had drifted off, but not to a restful sleep.
At eight o'clock this morning he had knocked on her locked bedroom door, but there had been no answer. Finally he had given up and gone down to mow the lawn a way to get some exercise that might relieve his nerves and avoid Sally at the same time. It was then that he had noticed her bedroom window open and instantly he realized what had happened to his little girl. After breaking down her bedroom door expecting even to find her dead, a victim of suicide and searching in vain for a note, he had finally called the police.
Sally had disapproved strenuously to this final step.
"Why do you have to get the police involved?" she had demanded. "Now everyone in town's going to know about it. You might as well have waited until she phones us she's bound to, the ungrateful little tramp!"
Bob had scarcely heard her. He had stationed himself beside the upstairs extension phone, silently cursing the apathetic policeman who had sounded almost annoyed at having his Sunday breakfast disturbed by something as trivial as another runaway teenager. Then he had begun conjuring up in his mind vivid pictures of the terrible things that might have happened to his child. As luck would have it, he had gone to the toilet just at the moment when her phone call came.
"Goddamn Sally!" he swore again now, wishing with all his heart that she had been the one to leave instead of Shannon. Deciding not to waste valuable time in a futile argument with his wife, the anguished father snatched his jacket from the hall closet, pulled the car keys from his pocket, and started out the front door.
"Where do you think you're going off to in such a rush?" he heard Sally's voice behind him.
She sounds like a harpy, he thought suddenly, a cigarette-sucking nagging harpy.
"I'm going to find our daughter," he replied in a cold voice, not even turning around. At this point, Bob did not think he could bear to look at her scowling, bitter face.
"I've just told her," Sally said, "that we don't want to see her again."
"You may not want to," Bob retorted, his vehement anger surfacing at the smug tone of her voice. "But then you're not fit to be her mother anyway."
He whirled around to face her, glaring in a way that shocked even his cold-blooded wife. "She's my daughter too, and I say she's coming home! And when I find her, you can goddamn well find another place to live and I'll stay here and take care of her myself." In a strange way, the comment which began as a threat suddenly held great appeal.
"You're making a serious mistake," Sally declared self-righteously. "She'll be back soon enough on her own. Why give her the satisfaction of hunting her down? And if she doesn't show up, good riddance. She's got a bad streak in her imagine her staying in a motel with a man at her age it's perfectly disgusting to me!"
"You're disgusting!" Bob spat at his wife, then rushed to the garage and drove toward Santa Barbara by the inland route, making good time considering the number of highway patrol cars he encountered on the busy freeway.
* * *
"How're you feeling, honey?" Pete the drummer murmured into Shannon's ear as she lay on the floor of the TraveLodge suite letting the music which blared from someone's portable stereo permeate her body. It was only about thirty minutes since she'd taken the metha-qualude, but it might have been hours for all the disoriented teenager knew.
"Wonderful," the drugged girl drawled, not even sure who she was answering. Then she began to giggle at the way her voice echoed in her ears like a harmonizing part of the music that she was contributing to. "Digging the sounds," she added. This was a phrase she had heard someone use last night, and it must have stuck in her mind.
"Sure thing," Pete grinned, settling down beside her on the carpet and running his hand over the naked breast that protruded along the side of her improvised halter top.
Shannon's entire body tingled at his touch, and as she smiled back at him, she wondered how she could ever have wanted to leave this beautiful place and these exciting people.
"Smoke?" the rock star queried, handing her a fat joint filled with grass.
The glassy-eyed fourteen year old accepted the extended cigarette eagerly, dragging its potent smoke into her lungs without moving from her prone position.
"It.. . it seems...so hard to move...." she murmured to herself.
"Sure, baby, that's what 'sopors' are supposed to do to you," Pete remarked casually. You know what else they do?"
"No...what?"
"They make fucking better than ever!"
Shannon stared at him, a forbidden shiver of arousal running up and down her spine at his obscene words. Yes, that was exactly what she felt like doing fucking and fucking until she was a mindless mass of physical sensation just like she had been last night.
"Really?" she breathed, then gave a little gasp as his fingers tweaked roughly at her tender exposed nipple.
"Sure thing! 'Twoeys' do the job even better, but I'm out of those at the moment. But 'sopors' help it a lot too. Why don't we try it.. . and you'll see for yourself," Pete suggested.
They happened to be alone at that particular moment, everyone else having either gone on home or having moved into the larger room to gulp down a 'breakfast' of orange juice, vodka, and their favorite pills. In any case, Shannon's mind was too confused by the qualude tablets to be aware of anyone else. All that concerned her at this moment were the urgent waves of erotic desire that swept through her loins at Pete's suggestion, and she wriggled upon the rug in anticipation as she heard the now-familiar metallic sound of his zipper being tugged down.
I'm so happy! she thought. This is the happiest day of my life!
"I've got something special to teach you today, baby," Pete growled in a voice slurred and hoarse from his perverted excitement.
"Oh, Pete, do whatever you want to me. Make me feel good...do it to me...do it now!" Shannon pleaded, already beside herself with excitement. A little gurgle of joy burst from her throat as she felt the rock star's strong hands yanking off her already-torn blouse and matching miniskirt. Down in her uncovered pussy, she could feel the first indication of moisture that was forming between her tingling cuntal lips.
A moment later the naked young girl's blissful ecstasy was shattered as the dark-haired drummer seized her at the hips with such brutal force that his fingers left bruises on her delicate skin.
"Turn over, baby," he grunted, simultaneously flipping her over onto her belly with such force that for a moment she was unable to catch her breath, much less protest.
"Yeah, now we're gonna have some real fun!"
The disbelieving junior high school senior heard his words through a cloudy mist of pain and shock. Oh God, she thought to herself, what's happening? Why is Pete acting this way? But before the confused young girl had a chance to comprehend what was going on. she felt the drummer's outstretched finger jab with ruthless insistence deep into her never-before-violated anus.
"Nnnnnnoooooo!" she managed to shriek, then fell silent as her protest elicited a stinging slap across the sensitive flesh of her upraised buttocks.
"Shut up, cunt!" Pete barked. "I'm gonna fuck you in the ass-hole, and I don't want to hear any noise out of you, do you understand?"
"Y-y-yessss.. . " Shannon groaned. She was suddenly terrified of the strange-sounding male who crouched behind her, growling out obscenities in his strange accent. Even in her drug-confused state, the blonde teenager realized that the less she did to antagonize Pete, the easier it would be for her. The finger embedded within her cringing, fear-tensed anus executed a few agonizing twists, but although the pain was almost unbearable, the young girl choked back her cries.
Pete gazed down at the teenager's quivering white buttocks with drug-glazed eyes, his throbbing penis swelling to full erection at the corrupt sight of his own middle finger, pushing deep between her girlishly taut-muscled ass-cheeks.
"Shit!" he muttered. "Nothing like a nice virgin ass-hole to fuck on a Sunday morning!"
Shannon winced, suddenly realizing what the famous drummer intended to do to her. He was going to force his enormous penis into heranus and it was going to kill her, of that she was sure! It was too disgusting to be possible, and the frightened young girl could no longer hold back her protests.
"Noooooo!" she wailed. "No, you can't, you can't!"
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" Pete hissed, completely oblivious to the pitiful childish voice.
There was a lewd wet popping sound as the musician withdrew his finger from Shannon's puckered little brown anus, and the young girl gasped in relief. Her respite was, however, short-lived, for in the next instant the terrified girl felt the thick blunt tip of his cock-head pressing up against her never-before-entered anal orifice.
"NOOOOOOO! Oh God, nooooooo!" she cried out, struggling to work her body out from under the young man's heavy loins. Much to her horror, she discovered that the drug had so warped her coordination that she could no longer move her muscles in accordance with the commands of her brain. The qualude had temporarily cut the connecting wires. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she lay in helpless subjugation beneath Pete's heavy body as his pressuring thickness thrust brutally at her impossibly tiny anal opening, and suddenly popped a little way inside.
"Aaaaaaaaiiiiieeeeeee...ah...ah...ah...god, no, you're k-killing me!" she screamed, but to no avail.
"Arrrrrhhhhhhgggg!" Pete grunted, his voice more like an animal than a man. The moist, tightly clinging walls of the girl's anal passage clasped around his pushing cock-head like a velvet sheath, and the drummer thought that he'd never in his life felt a more sensuous moment than this. Flicking his powerful hips forward with all the strength in his virile young body, he lunged into her quivering nether opening until his entire thick blood-engorged member was enveloped in tight-pressing ass-flesh.
For a few minutes, Shannon continued to weep in despair. The things that had happened last night were like a Sunday School picnic compared to this humiliating violation of her anus, for this was not only perverse and unnatural, but also excruciatingly painful in spite of the anesthetic effect of the drugs she'd taken. After a few minutes, however, the very degradation of the act began to send strange little masochistic shivers of pleasure surging through the young girl's body. Even before she was consciously aware of these familiar twinges of passion, they were causing her fear-tensed anal muscles to relax and serving to reduce the agony to a dull throbbing pressure.
As Pete felt the straining walls of the teenage groupie's no-longer-virginal anus loosening their vise-like hold around his impaling hardness, he commenced a series of slow, rhythmic strokes.
Occasionally he'd break the pattern to let his throbbing penis pulsate deep inside her now-contracting anus, and the third time he did this, he noticed her hips undulating back, an indication that she was beginning to respond.
"It's just like music, baby," he mumbled into the softness of her long straight hair. "The melody's fine, but it's the throbbing drumbeat that really turns them on."
Shannon scarcely heard his words. She was trying, without much success, to comprehend the baffling contradictions that were clamoring in her drug-dazed brain. One part of her mind still warned her that she must now allow herself to be aroused by this forbidden attack...that she must endure it and then escape back to her home, no matter what humiliation she might face from her parents.
But the voice of her conscience was being steadily drowned out by a louder, more persuasive voice that also seemed to be in control of her body. Try as she might, the teenager could not prevent her hips from jerking back up to meet the brutal drummer's pummeling penis, and there was no denying the prurient thrills of passion that were shooting from the top of her flailing head to the tips of her curling toes.
I can't like it...It's sick, it's horrible, the first part of her mind told her. Just think how you must look sprawled out here on the floor with Pete's big cock ramming in and out between your wriggling buttocks.
The vivid image floated before Shannon's tightly-closed eyes, but instead of controlling her traitorous body, it merely increased her licentious arousal.
"Oh God!" the drugged teenager wailed out suddenly. "Oh yyyeeeeeesssssss! Fuck me! Fuck me in the ass-hole!"
The unexpected sound of her own voice echoing through the motel room released all the lewd impulses contained in her young body. No longer trying to control her natural responses, Shannon allowed herself to squeal and squirm in lewd acceptance of the drummer's humiliating impalement.
It was at this point that Don, who had been feeling worried about what had happened to Shannon after he had given her those pills, entered the bedroom. He had decided that, since he couldn't seem to get her out of his mind, he ought to ask her to come and shack up with him. At least I can keep her safe from bastards like that Pete, he thought to himself, his spirits rising at the thought of how he would take care of the pretty innocent brunette.
At the sound of her obscene, submissive whimpers and the sight of her soft firm body writhing in wanton arousal as Pete's heaving body pounded against her naked back, Don let out a low gasp. His first emotion was a pang of bitter hurt as his momentary illusions about the alluring young girl as his mistress crumbled before his eyes. Then, an instant later, the TV star was seized by a wave of vindictive anger.
The stupid little bitch, he silently cursed the mindlessly fucking teenager. She's just another brainless little groupie who doesn't care who's screwing her or how they 're doing it just so long as they're in the top twenty!
The blonde TV star stood there with his fists clenched at his sides, unable to draw himself away from the salacious spectacle taking place not three feet away from him. Suddenly, much to his surprise, Pete looked up and shot him a lewd grin.
"Don't just stand there, man, come on. Join the fun," he gasped out. "This little bitch's so hot she needs two cocks inside her!"
Why not? Don thought. There was already a dull throbbing pain in his penis at the thought of giving the dirty little groupie what she deserved, and as he watched Pete pull Shannon roughly onto her side he felt his cock swell into full erection. Ripping off his jeans, the angry young man sidled quickly up on the bed and thrust his aching thickness deep into the girl's desire-moistened pussy.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!" Shannon wailed, shocked by this unexpected development. But in a moment, as the two hard-pistoning cocks synchronized their rhythms and began sliding in and out of her twin openings with smooth, deep strokes, she again began to purr in ecstasy.
"Yes! Oh yeeeeeeeessss!" she cried out, undulating her slim hips back and forth to meet the dual thrusts of the two lust-thickened rods of flesh thrusting into her helplessly splayed loins. "Fuuuuuckkkkk me! like that! Make me cuuuuuummmmmmmmmm!"
* * *
Bob Salter parked his car in the parking lot in front of the TraveLodge and strode toward the lobby. He had fortunately been on the extension phone when Shannon gave the name of the motel, and he located it with no trouble after asking directions from a helpful gas station attendant. But he was nevertheless Filled with an inexplicable sense of urgency. All the way there, an insistent voice in the back of his mind had been repeating, don't get there too late...don't get there too late!
"Do you have a Shannon Salter registered here?" he asked a blank-looking desk clerk who scowled at him, irritated at having been interrupted in his reading of the Sunday comics.
"Salter? No, I'm afraid not," he yawned.
"But you must have! Would you please check? I mean, she just phoned me two hours ago and said she was staying at the TraveLodge in Santa Barbara. There can't be more than one," Bob Salter insisted, a cold chill of fear reaching even to his clammy hands.
"Well, sir, all I know is we don't have anybody by that name on the register," the clerk replied.
"She's a little girl fourteen with long brown straight hair," the worried father continued. "Have you seen someone who looks like that? She's my daughter, you see, and
The newsstand lady the one who had observed Shannon making her frantic call that morning perked up her ears and responded, "Excuse me, sir." She went on speaking in spite of Bob Salter's wild tirade. "I think you might try that room where the big party was going on."
Then the clerk added, "You're right, Ann. Yes. sir, I think you might try suite 500. That's where all those hippy musicians are. Come to think of it, I believe I did see a girl like the one you described come in with those guys last night. She was wearing a yellow dress."
"Thank you," Bob called over his shoulder, already on his way at a half-run in the direction in which the clerk had pointed.
The door to room 500 was closed, but Bob could tell that he had found the right place from the loud rock music that echoed out into the hallway. He knew someone was inside, so he knocked loudly, but there was no answer.
Deciding that his rapping was being drowned out by the music, the father slowly tried the door and found it open. Still he hesitated for a moment before bursting into someone else's room like this, but his concern for his young daughter overcame his apprehensions. Then as he peered in through the half-open door, his hand froze on the knob and his blood turned to ice.
There on the floor lay his little girl, her long hair in wild brown disarray as she twisted and writhed between the naked bodies of two long-haired youths. Her sensitive face was contorted in an expression of wanton lust, and a stream of obscenities spewed from her lips.
"Harder! Fuck me harder! Give me your cum! Fffuuuuuuccccckkkkkkf" the horrified father heard his daughter wail. Her cry cut through his heart like a double-edged sword, and he closed his eyes for a moment to shut out the painful picture.
Her mother was right, he thought to himself. A thick cloud of despair fell over his entire being at this realization, and he suddenly felt very old and very useless. Forcing his eyes open again, the distraught man found himself staring into the glassy brown eyes of his only daughter.
As the first shattering waves of her orgasm swept over the young creature, she thought for one drug-fogged instant that she saw her father's face staring across the room at her. In the next moment, her entire body began to shudder with flood after flood of pure physical ecstasy and the fleeting vision was obliterated.
"Ccccuuuuummmmmmmmmm-iiiiinnnnnggggg!" she cried as thick, hot spurts of male sperm flooded both her vagina and her rectal passage. "Aaarrrrrgggggghhhhh!"
At the sound of his child's bestial climactic wail, Bob Salter silently closed the door and began to retrace his steps down the motel hallway. He moved automatically, not aware and not caring where he was going, and the wild glazed look in his eyes so frightened one of the maids that she went to report the incident to the management.
My little girl...my sweet little girl. The words echoed through his brain, their bitter agony making the pain he felt more severe than ever. Oh, God, how could this have happened? What had he done wrong? He realized that he had somehow reached his car, and still moving like a robot, he got into it, fastened the seat belt, and turned onto the highway in the direction of his wife and his home. He didn't really know why.
* * *
"Hey, Sam, didja see the look on that guy's face?" the curious magazine saleslady asked her bored co-worker?
"What guy?" asked the clerk without looking up from his newspaper.
"You know...,the guy we sent down to suite 500 looking for his daughter. He must've seen something really weird going on in there!"
"I'm not surprised," Sam mumbled.
"There sure are some creepy people in this world, especially the young kids."
