When Toby stood on the road, her thumb sticking out, she knew she had to get away from her past, from the memories of that brutal gang-bang in the park, and the lecherous step-father who couldn't keep his hands off her.
Her first ride took her to Miami and a life that wasn't all that different. It was there that she met Fingers and became part of his "harem" of girls. She could be had for a price, but she never considered how high that price would be ... Until she found herself strapped to a table by a convention of sadists.
It was then and only then that Toby came face to face with the ugly reality of her life, and decided that she would do anything ... absolutely anything to change it.
CHAPTER ONE
I'll never forget that night as long as I live. The night I learned, first-hand, what men can do to women. The night I grew up, but fast.
I was getting jumpy. Nervous. Uptight, because the argument in the kitchen continued to build, growing louder and working up steam.
I felt a familiar knotting of the muscles in my neck, pressing in painfully at the pit of my stomach and closing my throat. I glanced quickly around my room, eyes flashing like a cornered animal looking for a way out. There was no way out, I knew. Not for me. Not for anyone in this crummy neighborhood, in this screwed-up world. Living was a drag.
A hot breeze, heavy with the smell of a rotting garbage floated into my bedroom. I walked to the open window and looked down into the street. Dirty, screaming children played barefooted in the gutter. Bedraggled women, old before their time, rocked unwanted babies and chattered in shrill, high-pitched tones. Young men in their undershirts sat, spread-eagled on a stoop, hurling obscenities at passers-by.
One of them yelled to me, "Hey, Toby, stick 'em out a little further so I can see!"
I told him where to go.
It will never change, I thought to myself, disgustedly. In that filthy slum, that's where I lived ... where I'd always lived ... things remained forever the same.
Across the alley somebody was cooking onions near an open window. I walked away and flopped down across my rumpled bed. It was hot, that night. Hotter than hell. And I didn't even have the price of an air-conditioned movie.
"Don't call me a tramp, you drunken bum! Maybe if you got up and went to work for a change ... " Her wailing tirade pierced the thickness of the summer evening.
I turned over and buried my face in the pillow, cursing softly through clenched teeth. My mother was drunk, as usual, on Friday night. I could hear it in her voice. She never talked back to her husband when she was sober. She wouldn't dare.
For a long time I listened to the silence in the other room, waiting for all hell to break loose. What were they doing in there, I wondered bitterly. It was too early for them to be making out. They never fell into each other's arms on the sofa until after the brawl, until after all the booze was gone, until after half a dozen dishes had been hurled and shattered against the walls.
Sweat poured down my face as I remembered the first time I'd caught them at it. I was only ten or eleven years old, then. Sure, I knew where babies came from and I had a general idea how they got there, but I'd never imagined, never seen ...
* * *
The sound of the plate crashing against the bedroom door shocked me out of my sleep. I lay very still, clutching my pillow tightly, blinking in the heavy darkness, not knowing what to do, or what had happened.
"You trying to wake the kid!" Mom shrieked tearfully.
"Aw, pipe down. That brat can sleep through anything. Kids don't hear nothing, anyhow."
"You've got no right to call her names just because she's not yours."
I heard my mother's footsteps coming closer. I shut my eyes again and lay very still, pretending to be asleep. The bedroom door creaked on rusty hinges and a shaft of light fell across my face.
"Are you awake, Toby?" the woman whispered from the doorway, pushing aside a clump of greying brown hair that had fallen over one eye.
I lay motionless, afraid to move, hardly daring to breathe. Was something terrible going to happen? Was that man going to yell at me, too? And throw things?
My mother tiptoed to the bed and pulled the covers up over my shoulders. "Sleep, my darling," she whispered and leaned over to kiss my cheek.
"For crying out loud, Ann, come back here and leave the kid alone. Give her a doll or something."
I inched one hand out from under the covers and clasped the hem of my mother's dress, sighing as though I were still asleep.
"Hush, baby." Gentle fingers stroked the jet-black curls down to my shoulders.
"Do I have to come in there and get you?" my stepfather roared.
"All right, Patrick, I'm coming. I'm coming." She pried my fingers loose from the material of her skirt and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her as softly as she could.
I lay in the darkness, eyes wide and shining, trembling with fear. I wanted to call out to my mother. Wanted her to stay with me and not go back into the living room with that terrible man. What was happening out there, I wondered. I strained, listening for sounds of conversation, or argument. But everything was quiet.
I wanted to go to the bathroom but I was too scared to get out of bed. I felt my flesh throbbing strangely, enticingly, as I reached down under the blanket to stroke my cunt, to console myself, the only way I knew how.
My mother's little cry startled me. I sat up in the bed and listened hard. A rhythmic, creaking sound came from the next room. Why was my mother crying? What was going on out there? I had to know. Had to find out.
I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, smoothed down my little nightgown and tiptoed to the door. Again, that creaking sound from the living room. And voices, moaning softly, inaudibly.
A circle of light above my head caught my attention. Moving soundlessly, I carried a chair over to the door, climbed up on it and pressed my eye to the open knob-hole.
My throat went dry and a sickness began to rumble through my belly. I wanted to turn from the upsetting spectacle before me but I was paralyzed with terror and intrigue. My mother and the man were lying on the sofa, directly in my line of vision. I could see only a little bit of her face because Patrick's body covered everything else.
Chilled by a feeling I couldn't describe, I glanced from the thick, bulging muscles across Patrick's shoulders back to the patch of hair that began at the base of his spine and continued over his firm buttocks and massive, twitching thighs. I saw the man roll slightly, until his back was directly toward the knothole.
A woman's knee appeared between Patrick's thighs and he spread his legs to make room for it. His hips began to rock back and forth, pressing against her body. His hand rubbed, high up inside her thigh, and then her cunt.
I watched, open-mouthed as my mother's hand appeared over the man's ass and inched across his sweaty skin to the small of his back. I saw Patrick's own hand disappear between their bodies and I heard my mother gasp and moan, deep down in her throat.
My own legs began to quake and I pressed my palms flat up against the door to balance myself. Now, my stepfather was rolling back on top. They were kissing and rubbing their crotches against each other. Squeezing each other, and he was pinching her tits.
Suddenly, the man raised himself up and I gaped at his exposed, cock. I saw Patrick reach down to touch himself, to caress himself, to show Mother what he had.
Absently, my fingers moved to my hot cunt, my little pussy that was burning now, and aching with a need I couldn't understand. I fondled myself clumsily through the material of my nightgown, first with tender movements, and then harder, as a pleasurable sensation began to throb outward from the spot, through my belly and down to my quivering thighs.
Without warning, Patrick plunged. His cock disappeared from view. And I knew where.
My high-pitched scream shattered the silence. Without thinking, I jumped off the chair, flung the door open and ran into the other room.
"You're hurting my mother," I screamed at the top of my lungs. Tears blurred my vision. My heart pounded as if it were trying to break all my ribs.
"You little son of a bitch!" Patrick jumped to his feet, glaring at me through eyes, narrow with hatred.
"Shut up, Patrick," my mother yelled, hurrying to fasten a bathrobe around her naked body. "I told you she'd wake up."
"I'll do more than that," the man growled and lunged at me, while I stood, transfixed and terrified by the sight of his exposed big cock.
Patrick scooped me up in one strong arm and dragged me across the room. To the accompaniment of my mother's tearful pleadings, he forced me to lay face-down across his lap, pushed my nightgown up over my head and slapped my soft, quivering behind until it glowed pink and burned like the devil.
I screamed at the top of my lungs until the man was finished. Then, with tears still streaming down my cheeks, I obeyed Patrick's harshly-issued order to return to my room and go back to bed, and not to show my grubby little face until the next morning.
I lay on my stomach in the darkness. My throat felt raw from screaming. My backside stung from the man's cruel slaps. But deep inside, I felt triumphant and satisfied. At least I'd saved my mother from that horrible man. At least I'd distracted him from what he was doing to her.
And I'd discovered a wonderful, new feeling in that certain part of my body that I'd never known before ...
The sound of my mother's hysterical voice propelled me ahead, and into the present with disturbing speed and clarity. The two of them were at it, full force now. I pressed my palms flat over my ears, trying to block out the argument, but it didn't work. I could still hear them, hurling insults. Degrading themselves. Degrading each other.
I hurried across the room and turned on the radio, full blast. Rock and roll music filled the air, throbbing, vibrating, drowning out every other sound in the world.
I felt the energy pulsating through my bloodstream. The anger, throbbing through my breasts, shook me from top to toe. I needed to strike out, to claw my nails into something. To break, to destroy, to get even.
Instead, I hurried to my bureau, stripped down to bra and panties and picked up my hairbrush. Glowering at my own reflection in the mirror, I began furiously to brush a hundred strokes like I'd seen the models do on television, hoping to work the devil out of my flesh.
I drew the stiff bristles through my long, shining hair. Ten times. Twenty times. Fifty times. Still, the tension refused to ease off. I was red-hot, all over, in my head, my breasts, my cunt. I wanted to bust loose, break free, smash everything in sight.
I looked myself up and down in the mirror, trying to see something that would make me feel better. At seventeen, I was no longer a skinny kid. I'd developed into a full-grown woman with high, full breasts and round, inviting hips.
And one of these days, I promised myself, I was going to have a guy who was big enough, powerful enough to bash Patrick's face to a bloody pulp.
The bedroom door flew open, banging against the wall. "What the hell's goin' on in here," Patrick roared, red-faced in the doorway.
I dropped the hairbrush onto the floor and raced to grab my blouse and pull it up over my half-naked breasts, revolted by the gleam of interest in Patrick's beady eyes at the sight of me in my underwear. "I told you a million times, stay out of my room unless you knock," I screamed, wishing I had the strength to claw out those eyes.
My mother hurried into the room, nervous and fluttery. Smiling lopsidedly at me, she turned the music down to a bearable volume. "Really, Toby, there's no need to give everybody a headache." Her words were slurred from the beer she'd been guzzling.
I stuck out my chest, gritted my teeth and glared at my stepfather. "If you don't like the music around here you can get the hell out and find another woman to support you," I snapped defiantly, waiting for the man to make one wrong move. I wished that Patrick would take one step in my direction so that I could pick up that hairbrush or with my knee, get even, just a little for what he'd done to my old lady.
"Please, Toby, don't start up with each other. Don't say things so the neighbors can talk."
"I'm not starting anything," Patrick answered innocently. "If she wants to show off, bare-assed in front of an open window, I don't care. Let everybody see. Let everybody talk. So what?"
"What I do is none of your business," I growled.
"Of course it ain't," Patrick went on in his mocking, sarcastic tone. "Just tell me one thing. How come you like to strut around like that with everything hanging out? Trying to work up a little action with the guys downstairs?" He took a slug from his beer can and wiped his mouth with the back of his thick hand. "From what I hear, they think you're really something around this block. A real, hot little number. Is there any truth, maybe, to those rumors about how you like to put out for the boys."
"Shut your filthy mouth, you stupid drunk." I glared murderously at the man, hating him with all my strength. I felt my body shaking, jiggling all over, shining with perspiration. If only I were a man, I wished. If only I were the same size.
"Patrick, go back into the living room. Please," Mom begged, pushing her husband toward the doorway. "Come on, we don't need any more fighting around here. We've given the neighbors enough of a show."
"I don't have to stand here and take that crap from a little tramp, even if she is your kid," Patrick snapped. "If any of my sisters ever talked like that to my father ... "
"You're not my father!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
"You bet your hustlin' little behind, I'm not, thank goodness," Patrick yelled back at me, above my mother's head. "You better watch the way you talk when I'm around."
"Come on, Patrick. She's barely seventeen," the woman scolded. "Don't take what she says to heart. She doesn't mean it." She threw me a warning look, telling me without words to back down, lose face-anything for peace.
I slammed the door after them, blind with fury, seething with rage. Why couldn't my mother stick up for me? Why couldn't she take my side against Patrick, just once in her life?
The answer was simple and I felt sick to think about it. No matter what else the man did, Patrick gave the woman what she wanted most. Her loyalty to that big, grimy bastard was a cinch to explain: they deserved each other. They fucked each other.
I pulled on a sleeveless blouse and a wraparound, cotton skirt. The hell with them, I told myself, over and over. As long as they had each other and their bottle, they didn't give a damn about me. Let them rot together, for all I cared. I never stood a chance in that house, anyhow.
I stormed through the living room and out the front door. I ran down the stairs, past the garbage bags spilling over onto the floor, past the broken liquor bottles. When I hit the streets, my thoughts were flying far ahead of me.
Ignoring the catcalls from the bums across the street, the dirty remarks about my big breasts, I strode toward the corner. Every nerve in my body felt raw. Every muscle seemed to stretch to the breaking point. I had to cool off, I knew. Loosen up. Release the pent-up energy charging through my flesh like an express train.
Maybe tonight I would find a guy and discover what all the shouting was really about, what I was missing by holding on to my virginity like it was some kind of treasure.
Tonight I wanted to find someone who was big. A muscle boy that could fuck me until I didn't feel anymore. Someone who wanted me enough to protect me from that big fucking jerk that was married to my mother.
Tonight I wanted to get laid by a big man.
CHAPTER TWO
The night was alive with lights, with discontent, with mystery. I decided to lose myself in among the sea of bodies surging along Delancey Street. I elbowed my way roughly through the knots of pedestrians, too tense to stroll, too angry to forget. I felt my mouth set tight into a line of strain. My big eyes flashed cold, unfriendly-looking, searching, darting frantically back and forth in hopes of discovering something, someone who could take me out of myself, away from my life-if only for a little while.
I darted across the Essex Street side against the light. A big car braked, shrieking to a stop and the driver yelled at me in a foreign language. I whirled, grinned wildly at the man and made an obscene gesture with my hand. The shocked indignation on the man's face registered through my insides like a shot of straight rye. I was beginning to feel better. I'd shown that crumb who was the boss tonight-and this was just the start.
I hopped up onto the sidewalk and continued quickly on my way past the stores that were always 'going out of business tomorrow', past the hustlers in the doorways with their tight, high skirts and mesh stockings, past the hot, hungry eyes of men and boys turned in my direction, looking me up and down asking, without words if they could use me.
Then, just like that it hit me-and I decided where I wanted to go. Tonight, I knew I was ready. Ready to take a few chances. Ready for a little excitement. Ready to try something new.
I rounded the corner and headed up Second Avenue, breaking into a trot, my pleated skirt swirling and bouncing high above my knees. My lips parted as breathing became more difficult and I became aware of a new excitement, a different anticipation-throbbing through my breasts, curling low in my belly, buzzing through my skull. Just another two blocks, now, one more block-right up the street.
The "In-Crowd Discotheque" had a big, red neon sigh flashing its head off above the street. I stopped short and smiled at it, as if those wild lights were welcoming me, personally. From where I stood, a couple of doors away, I could hear the brassy sounds of a tenor sax and the pounding, insistent rhythm of some maniac on drums.
Just what I needed. Just what I wanted. Already, I could feel the throbbing tempo echoing through my bloodstream-telling me to hurry on inside and get lost, get high on the music, on the booze, on the sight of people all around me doing nothing but having a good time.
"Play it cool, Toby," I warned myself, as I tucked my blouse tighter into my skirt so that my breasts would jut out even further. You had to be eighteen years old to get into that place, and they meant it. I'd known lots of kids who'd tried to pass-even with I.D. cards they'd phonied-and were stopped cold at the door.
I tossed off most of my casual manner while the bouncer licked his lips and looked at me like I was dinner. "You eighteen?" The stub of his thick cigar bobbed between rotted teeth.
"What do you think?" I tossed my head and met his lecherous gaze with a defiant smile.
"Okay-go on in."
With a shake of my hips and a little hidden sigh of relief, I sauntered into the mob. So far, so good, I thought, still I knew it was one thing to get into the place and another to find some guy who'd buy the drinks.
He materialized in front of me like the genie out of the lamp-all spit and polish with dark, slicked-down hair, the sharpest double-breasted suit and two rows of white, white teeth surrounded by a big, friendly smile.
I guess I looked a little flabbergasted. I'm five-three. He was over six feet and solid. I stood in mind of walking up to a wall.
"You look a little lost, honey." His voice was deep, confident, mildly ridiculous.
"Who can see around a hunk like you?" I shot back at him, flirting with my eyes. Something about his looks, his way told me he was smooth-to say nothing of well hung. I'd been dying for someone to distract me. Someone who could hold my interest. Maybe, I thought-just maybe, I was finally getting lucky.
"You here by yourself," he asked, above the hell breaking loose from the bandstand.
"That depends-" I let my mouth go into an easy, loose-lipped smile. "You asking me to have a drink?"
"Sure thing, just name your poison." He got the hint and steered me through to the bar, clearing the way with his mountain-sized body.
My insides were doing flip-flops. From happiness, from excitement, from everything. I felt like a little china doll- like I was protected from everything dangerous, just being next to him.
Little did I know!
The liquor started to work on me and I got careless. When his arm moved around behind my shoulders I gave in to impulse and snuggled my head in underneath his chin. I guess it was stupid to be so honest, to respond openly to the attentions of a guy I'd hardly known for more than an hour. But I was so hung-up so desperately for anything that vaguely resembled love, that I just leaped in, without thinking.
Besides, I was only a green kid seventeen years old.
The music turned slow and I melted into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. The feel of those muscles pressing up against the softness of my own body, the rock-solidness of his arms, locking me in close and safe, the smell of his spicy cologne, all those things combined to send me floating somewhere far away from the stink of what was real.
The next thing I knew, my feet were getting king of wobbly and my eyes wanted to close in the worst way. I let them, and sagged, smiling, against Vic's body. I felt content to give myself over completely to his strong lead-to just relax and enjoy the pleasant, irritating sensations that were rushing through my tits as our thighs rubbed and our bellies and hips locked tight, swaying in the rhythm of the dance.
"I think you could stand a little fresh air," Vic said.
"Impossible," I murmured, hugging him a little tighter around the shoulders. "I couldn't go for a walk if my life depended on it."
"I've got my car parked just around the corner. We'll take a nice ride-maybe grab a bite to eat. What do you say?"
The thought of food hadn't entered my mind, but once he'd mentioned it, my taste buds started to remind me that I hadn't bothered with supper.
I sighed and allowed him to guide me toward the exit. At that moment, I was so happy, so content I didn't need to speak. The notion of having someone who wanted to take care of me was like fresh air to a drowning person. I would follow him to the end of the world.
The night air hit me like a cold piece of lead. Fighting to keep my balance, I hung on to Vic, like for dear life. I'd never gotten bombed like that, before, and in the next second, I began to panic.
But then, his arm tightened around my waist and I felt like a feather in his grasp. Vic wouldn't let me fall, I realized. Wouldn't let me hurt myself. With him, I was safe. All I had to do was stick close.
"Where'd you say your car was?" I asked, when we'd been walking for a couple of blocks.
"Just around the corner-just at the end of the park."
It struck me kind of funny that Vic should have left his car so far away from the bar but I shrugged it off as he led me toward the bridge that crossed over the highway. There could be a million reasons for that, I told myself quickly-weekend traffic, no meters, anything. Besides, I needed to use all my concentration power in order to walk.
The riverside park seemed deserted and eerie in the night. A little shiver tickled down my back as I glanced at those black, scary-looking bushes. In a million years, I'd never seen such. But Vic was with me, I told myself over and over. With him at my side, I was well protected. There was nothing to fear.
Then I saw them.
At first, they appeared to be just another indistinct shape in the darkness. Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw a movement-and what I'd thought to be a large shadow split into the unmistakable silhouettes of several men.
"Vic-look," I whispered, squeezing his arms.
His grasp around my waist tightened. "Nothing to be scared of, baby," he answered, sounding completely at ease.
"Let's get out of here-please," I said to him, and I could hear my own voice rippling with urgency, with fear.
Instead of answering, Vic turned us around and started walking us directly toward them.
"Vic, are you crazy?" I croaked, as he swept me along in stride. "What's the matter with you?" I tried to stop myself, to keep us from moving any further but Vic's grip was suddenly like iron.
The closer we got, the clearer the men became until I was able to make out their faces and the colors of their clothing. There were three of them standing there, one looking meaner and greasier than the next, cocky smiles plastered across their faces.
"What the hell took you so long, Vic?" A tall, muscular blond guy stepped forward looking me over all the time he spoke.
"What difference does it make," Vic snapped. "I got one, didn't I?"
And then, the facts of the situation hit me in the head and I thought I was going to pass out from the terror of what I knew. My mind raced wildly as awareness came crashing in on me, turning my arms and legs to stone. Vic had been a plant, in that bar. These guys had been waiting all the time for him to bring back some girl for them to gang bang.
My mouth flew open but before the scream could pass my lips, Vic's hands closed over my mouth, gagging me. "Get her back into the bushes," he grunted to the others as he struggled to subdue me with his free hand.
I kicked and fought but my strength was no match for Vic, to say nothing of the three other guys who jumped right in to help him. Almost before I knew it they were all around me-forcing my arms double behind my back.
"Okay, put her down-no one will be able to spot us here," I heard one of them say.
My feet hit the ground with a jolt and I started to buckle downward. Vic threw his free arm around me from behind and held me upright, tight against the front of his strong body. "Not bad for the price of a couple of drinks?"
"You said a mouthful, that time," a short, stocky boy in a tight-fitting polo shirt answered, stepping right up in front of me. His flashing eyes trailed up and down the length of my body. Then, without warning, his hands shot out and closed over my tits squeezing hard. "Hey-some pair of melons on this broad," he drawled, digging his thumbs into the tender flesh of my nipples.
I don't know if it was the pain of the knowledge of what they had in mind to do to me-but suddenly, I found strength to lash out, kicking my feet and biting down hard on Vic's hand.
Vic gasped as my teeth sank in and yanked his fingers away from my mouth. I started to fly forward, but before I'd taken five steps the short guy in the muscle shirt grabbed my arm and yanked me around, knocking me off balance.
I started to slip but the boy held me and pulled me roughly up in front of him. The scream died in my throat as his hand caught me stingingly across the side of my head and doubled back to slap my other cheek.
My teeth crashed together.
I saw stars.
Before my wits returned, the blond guy and the one with the crew cut had me locked between them, hands pinned against my sides, mouth covered.
The one with the muscles stood in front of me breathing heavily, smiling with triumph. "The next time you try any funny shit you're really going to get hurt," he threatened. "Now, where was I-" Again, his hands reached out to my blouse for my tits.
Then, Vic walked over to us, rubbing the wound on his hand where I'd bitten, murder in his eyes. "Get out of the way, Rocky," he ordered, brushing the short guy off to the side like he was a mosquito.
My knees started to tremble and my eyes bugged wide with fright as Vic looked me up and down, like a cat playing with a mouse before the kill. "You shouldn't have done that," he said, very soft but very mean. "Now, I'm going to have to hurt you."
I tried to break away and shake my head, tried to speak, but the guy with the crew cut was making sure I couldn't utter any sound. All I could manage was a sick gurgle.
But Vic wouldn't have heard, anyway. Suddenly, his right hand flew out, his fingers twisted into the collar of my blouse, and he yanked.
The sound of material ripping seemed to fill the whole world, shocking me cold sober. I saw Vic's eyes gleaming as he looked down at where the tops of my breasts were exposed, straining over the edges of the bra.
"Wow-she's something," Rocky said softly, beside Vic.
"Really built," the blond guy echoed, and I felt him straining forward to get a better look.
A monster-sized lump popped into my throat and I thought I was going to strangle. I started to choke and my body sagged.
"Should I let her mouth go?" The guy with the crew cut looked to Vic for orders.
I shook my head, trying desperately to communicate without the use of words.
Vic stared cruelly into my flushed face, like he was enjoying the sight of my misery. "You gonna make any noise?" he asked.
I shook my head no.
"Better make sure of that," he went on. "One sound out of you and I'll make you wish you never were born. Okay, Chuck-let her go."
The hand disappeared over my mouth and I gulped deep lungfuls of air.
Vic reached forward, pushed apart the torn edges of my blouse and cupped his hands over my naked stomach. "You got a real nice body, kid," he said to me. "I'll bet you've shown plenty of guys a hell of a good time."
The other three guys laughed nervously. "A good time like you're gonna show us," Chuck piped in.
"Please-" I begged, my voice hoarse, hardly recognizable. "I've never-in my whole life-I swear."
"Sure, baby, sure," Vic smiled meanly. "I know all about it. You're just an innocent kid."
"I'll bet she is," Rocky cracked sarcastically.
"Why don't we quit crappin' around and find out," the guy with the blond hair sounded. "Let's fuck her."
"Soon enough, Lenny boy, soon enough." Vic promised him, then his attention returned to me. "Tell me, honey, you ever take on four guys in one night?"
An agonizing pain of awareness started to throb at the base of my skull and I had all to do to keep myself from screaming hysterically. I was trapped, I knew. There was no one else in the park-no one who could hear me-no one to help. If I were going to make it out of there in one piece, I'd better talk fast.
"Look, I know some nice girls-real good-lookers," I began, putting my story together quickly as I went along. "They'd really dig a couple of guys like you-do everything in the books-"
I stopped suddenly. Vic was shaking his head, grinning with amusement. I knew it was no use.
"You'll learn, baby," he said, softly. "We're gonna teach you everything you need to know, tonight."
Chuck whistled softly as my naked breasts came into view, pale and ivory-colored from the moonlight above. His hand darted out to cup the fullness of my exposed flesh.
I felt an involuntary shudder travel the entire length of my body and I shook with fear, like a cornered animal. All of a sudden, there were hands all over me-squeezing, rubbing, fondling my tits and cunt.
I went wild.
Like a crazy person, I started to fight for my freedom. Beyond fear, beyond thinking about consequences, I struck out blindly, hysterically-trying to land the point of my shoe, the top of my knee, the edges of my fingernails, someplace where they'd hurt.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain across my calves as my feet were kicked out from under me. I hit the ground, still flailing the air with my fists, still thrashing violently about-but then, in a matter of seconds, Vic was on top of me-holding me down with the weight of his body.
Rocky hurried around behind Vic and grabbed my legs. I lay motionless, gasping for breath, unable to fight, unable to move.
"The kid's got a little spirit in her," Lenny, said, gazing down at me with a sneer on his face.
"I like a girl who fights back," Rocky said, as he inched my skirt up and touched the smooth flesh of my thighs. "Get's me more excited that way. Look at that cunt."
"That's too bad cause you're gonna have to wait," Vic told him, breathing heavily. "This one is mine, I'm going to have her cunt first."
"Don't, I beg you." My voice came out in a thick trembling whisper. "I'll do anything you want, anything, but that."
Vic's merciless smile cut through me like a knife. "You're damned right you'll do anything I want," he drawled as he reached back and rushed his hand in under my skirt.
His fingers grabbed and I groaned with pain. Through the thin, flimsy material of my panties, I could feel the strength of his hands and I knew what he must be capable of doing to me.
"Take off her panties," Vic rasped in Lenny's direction.
Lenny sank to one knee, twisted his fingers into the material over my hips and began to tug down over my cunt.
I tried to make it difficult for him by grinding my behind down against the earth but it was no use. In a second, I felt my underpants sliding down over my knees and toward my ankles.
Rocky pulled my shoes off and finished the job. A moment later, Lenny was back on his feet, waving my panties over his head like a flag.
The cold, hard earth rubbed against the sensitive flesh of my legs and buttocks. I tried to lift myself but the boys were making sure I didn't move. I felt Rocky's fingers spreading fanlike, hurrying up and down along my thighs, across my quivering belly.
In a moment, Lenny was on his knees beside my head, grasping my wrists in his hands, forcing my arms down flat above my shoulders.
Vic leaned back and reached for the front of his pants. I heard a zipper opening. I closed my eyes.
"Don't be afraid, doll-have yourself a look, a good look. You ain't never seen anything like this big cock before."
I turned my head to the side, wishing now that I could faint, that I could do anything just so as not to be aware of what was going on.
I grunted with discomfort as Vic slid his body forward moving down onto my legs. "Come on," Rocky complained. "You're blocking my view."
"Well, what are you waiting- for," Lenny snapped behind me. "Fuck her!"
"I want to make her sweat a little more," Vic answered, and placed his palm flat against my belly.
My flesh jumped beneath his touch. I clenched my teeth and tried to will myself numb-but there was no ignoring the sensation of his fingers as they moved downward running, squeezing, exploring my cunt.
I cried out as his touch found my pussy and started to probe deep, violating my flesh, hurting me like I'd never been hurt before.
"Hey, she wasn't kidding," Vic said, his voice filled with surprise and awe. "She's cherry."
"Well take care of that, won't we," Rocky said, his voice trembling with excitement.
In desperation, I pounded my knees against Vic's body, trying to knock him off.
Rocky leaped over to one side of me. Chuck hurried to the other. Each of them grabbed one of my ankles and forced my legs apart.
"Leave me alone, please," I sobbed, swallowing the salty tears that were starting to fill my throat.
Instead of answering me, Vic spoke to Chuck and Rocky. "Lift her up higher," he ordered. "Let's get a good look, a real good look at that twat."
I twisted and squirmed but there was no escaping the sharp bite of his insistent fingers. Then, suddenly, when I didn't think I could stand it for another moment, he withdrew.
For a second, I thought a miracle had occurred-that somehow, something had changed his mind and I'd been spared. But then, his hands closed behind my knees, forcing my legs back over my head and he rammed his cock into my cherry hole.
A searing white-hot pain shot across my field of vision and sliced through my brain. I felt my jaw go slack, my eyes pop wide open. My tongue was moving inside my mouth but no words were going out.
The whole universe seemed to be pounding and throbbing in tempo with the thrusts of Vic's cock. I felt my shoulders being rammed harder and harder against the unyielding ground.
Strong, demanding hands dug in underneath my buttocks and kneaded the taut flesh there. Out of nowhere, Vic's face appeared. Right up close against my own his eyes clouded over with desire and his mouth glistened.
When his lips locked over mine, I tried to turn my head, but he followed me. A thick, hot tongue drove a deep wedge toward my throat and I could taste the liquor he'd been drinking.
Then, with one final bounce, Vic seemed to explode, turning into a crazed, bedeviled animal. Grunting and shivering, he came at me, harder and faster than before; forcing my hips roughly against the ground beneath the intensity of his assault.
I moaned in agony as he shot in me with all the brute force in his body. I thought my cunt was going to be split in half, that I would be crippled beyond repair.
His muscles twitched and he strained against me as the energy seemed to flow out of him with diminishing intensity. And then, he was through with me.
The others didn't give me two seconds to recover. As soon as Vic moved off to the side, strong hands rolled me onto my stomach. I felt eager fingers touching everywhere, slapping my naked behind, gripping the tender flesh high at the sides of my thighs.
Their movements became indistinct and after a while, I couldn't tell when one cock had stopped and another had started. They crawled over me like ants on a hill, turning me every which way, gaping at me, poking at me with their fingers, pawing my bruised, aching flesh.
It felt like hours, years, forever. Now there were two of them, working me over at once, switching positions, forcing me to satisfy them both. Then there were three, one underneath, two on top. My cunt and mouth were filled.
All the while, Vic stayed off to the side, keeping watch, occasionally telling them what to do.
And then, when it seemed there was nothing left for them to do to me, Vic lowered himself onto his knees, put his mouth very close to my ear and told me what he was going to "have dessert. Gonna' fuck that asshole."
Reflexively, I shrank backward, away from him, shaking my head in silent terror. I saw the gleam in his eyes brighten as he witnessed my fear and laughed, deep in his throat.
I tried to get to my knees to crawl away and avoid him. But strong hands closed around my waist and hauled me backward, forcing my hips high in the air while my cheek scraped over the harsh surface of the pebbly earth.
I felt him fill my ass, forcing his cock in my flesh, ripping, tearing. I'd thought I was beyond pain, beyond feeling, but the directness and brutality of his attack made me shriek in pain.
And then, he forced me flat against the ground, knocking the breath out of my chest. I couldn't make a sound.
I heard the others laughing above him, goading him on, mocking me, but there was nothing I could do. I felt the skin across my knees scraping across the ground. I felt my breasts pressed into the damp grass and heard Vic describing the dirty, disgusting act he was performing.
And then, his voice fell silent and his hips moved with the speed and energy of an express train. I clawed the earth with my fingernails, gasping for air, grunting meaningless, half-conscious, senseless thoughts.
I must have blacked out, because it seemed like only a moment's time until everyone had gone and I was left in a heap on the ground, all alone.
I pulled myself up onto my hands and knees, groaning with the unbearable pain that every movement brought. The sky seemed to be tilting and I fell back down, unable to balance, unable to find strength.
I don't remember how long I lay there, staring through the trees with sightless eyes. I only know that eventually, I was able to organize my thoughts enough to realize that I had to get out of there, or else I might not be found for days.
My clothes were a mess. The only thing that wasn't torn to shreds was my skirt. Clutching the remnants of my blouse and panties over my naked breasts, I staggered toward the sound of automobiles, toward the bright row of street lights that lined the park.
A car stopped along the highway and a man ran out, yelling at the top of his lungs.
Then two cars stopped. And a crowd of people gaping at me and talking to each other in hushed, excited whispers, were all there.
I tried to shake my head, to tell them that I didn't want the police, but all of a sudden, my body seemed paralyzed and I felt myself sinking, tumbling into a deep, heavy blackness.
They tell me the ambulance siren was screaming like crazy, all the way to the emergency room. I don't remember hearing a sound.
CHAPTER THREE
By the time I was ready to leave the hospital, I felt like I had aged at least twenty years, but they tell me I didn't look any different. Sure, they'd managed to put all the pieces of me back together and I suppose on the outside I looked pretty much the same, but inside me, I knew I was a changed person. It was like I'd grown a callous all around my heart. I just didn't expect that anything good could ever happen to me.
And I was damned right. The second I laid eyes on my mother, I knew I was in for a hard way to go.
"What's the long face for?" I asked her, after she'd signed me out of the ward and we were waiting for the Second Avenue bus.
She didn't answer, but she didn't meet my eyes, either.
I shrugged and lit a cigarette, figuring she was just shook up because of what had happened to her little girl. Fat chance! All of a sudden she started blubbering and hid her face in her hands. "What are the neighbors going to say now," she sobbed.
I'd started to put my arm around her shoulder to comfort her to assure her that I was going to be all right, but when I heard those words come out of her mouth, I recoiled from the woman like she'd suddenly turned into a dung heap.
"The neighborhood!" I shrieked, glaring hatred in her direction. "How can you worry about the neighbors after this, after what's happened to me?"
"It was in the papers," she went on, sniffling loudly. "Everybody read about it. I'm ashamed to show my face."
I swear, if I'd had the strength, if I'd had five bucks in my pocket, I would have turned my back on her that second and crossed her off my list forever. Instead, I just stood mute, staring at the woman, wondering how such a sad excuse for a human being could dare to call herself a mother.
We rode in silence, all the way back to the house. Every time that bus hit a bump, I felt the aches flare up all over me. It was going to be a long time, I knew, a damned long time before I healed-if ever.
I've got to admit this much. My lady had a point. In a neighborhood like the Lower East Side of New York, word gets around as fast as in those small towns, and juicy gossip like this spread like a plague.
I didn't feel strong to go out of the house much, but when I did leave, for a pack of cigarettes or something absolutely necessary, I began to feel the air waves quivering around me.
I should have known when I was well-off, when people were just staring at me kind of funny and whispering knowingly to each other as I'd pass.
But then, the bums in the neighborhood took to following me down the street, making fun and asking me filthy, insinuating questions.
"Was it good, Toby?" they'd call from their stoops, loud enough for the whole block to hear.
"Were there really four of them?" they'd yell out of windows, laughing as they watched me run away in shame.
"How about a demonstration, baby. We'd all like to take you out on a date. You could fuck us, don't you think so?" This, in front of the corner candy store, with everybody clustered around, gaping at me, blocking my path.
So I took to staying indoors, which isn't easy in the middle of the summer.
It was a mistake. That's when the phone calls started. Men's voices-even women's voices-asking me to describe what had happened in detail, offering to meet me and give me money if I'd show them where I'd been hurt and how, saying obscene, vile, unprintable things ...
So I just took the telephone off the hook, stayed in the apartment all alone and tried to keep myself from going mad with loneliness and boredom.
Things might have gone on like that forever, if not for Patrick.
It was a hot Wednesday, late in August. One of those blistering, impossible afternoons when you just can't seem to find a place for yourself where it's cool enough to breathe. From where I lay it sounded like everyone in the whole world was down in the street making noise.
I got out of bed and went over to close the window, to block out the annoying sounds of too many people thrown too close together, but the thought of what my room would be like without even that hot, unpleasant breeze stopped me.
My attention was caught by a group of young kids who'd turned open a fire hydrant down near the corner. They were running around in the water screaming at the top of their lungs, splashing, jumping, having themselves one hell of a good time, and I had to smile, despite myself. How great, I thought, to be that young, that unaware. If only I could turn my life back to the time when having fun was the only thing that mattered.
Like I said, I was standing there, absorbed in all these bittersweet thoughts while this racket was going on underneath my window, so I didn't hear him come in.
When the door to my bedroom closed, I jumped a foot in the air and spun around. Patrick was just standing there, looking at me with a sort of lopsided smile hanging across his face. I could tell by the way he shifted his weight unsteadily from one foot to the other that he was half in the bag.
"What are you doing home so early," I asked, edging back toward the bed, trying not to seem in a hurry. I knew Mom wouldn't be home from work for hours and I didn't like the idea of running around in front of that guy, dressed only in a flimsy nightgown.
"Just checking up on you," he said, without ever taking his eyes from me.
I pulled the bed sheet up over my breasts and forced a pleasant smile. "I'm okay," I told him, wishing he'd turn around and leave. "The heat's kind of hard to take, though."
"I know what you mean." His grin widened. Then, without another word he walked across the room and sat himself down on the edge of the bed, like I'd invited him, or something.
I felt myself getting jump but I didn't want to start a row with him. "I was just going to take a nap," he said, casually, forcing a yawn. "Can't seem to get my strength back in this weather."
I could smell the booze on his breath, even at three feet. He started to play with a corner of the pillowcase, twisting the material between his thick, dirty fingers. "Those guys really gave it to ya, huh," he said, offhandedly.
I didn't answer. It wasn't my favorite subject.
"Did you fight a lot," he went on. "You know, kick and scratch and all that."
"Look, if you don't mind, I really don't want to talk about it." There was an edge of irritation in my voice. I couldn't stomach the man under the best circumstances, and especially not when I felt rotten.
"Well, I want you to talk about it," he snapped, gruffly.
I clenched my teeth and told myself this was no time to lose my cool. Patrick could be one very ugly person when he was drunk. I'd seen him in action with Mom, often enough to know that it wasn't wise to mess around with him and get him mad.
"What do you want to know?" I asked softly.
"Everything," he answered, softening somewhat, "from the very beginning. And don't leave anything out."
I took a deep breath and started to talk, fighting back the waves of nausea that rose along with the memory of that night. Suddenly, I felt Patrick's fingers brushing up along the outside of my leg, through the sheet.
I jumped away.
He grabbed my knee, hard.
"You don't have to be afraid of me, kid," he said, sliding his hand up over the bedding and onto my thigh. "I just want us to have a little fun, you know what I mean." He winked and pressed his fingertips harder against my flesh.
"Look, Patrick," I said, smiling nervously. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you're making a big mistake. How about some nice, black coffee. That'd clear things up for you."
"I don't need coffee, baby," he drawled, leaning in closer until his face was right next to mine. "You know what it is I want."
Before I could move away, he grabbed my face with his big hand and plunged his mouth down over mine. The taste of whiskey on his breath sickened me. The stubble of his beard scratched my chin. I tried to move away, tried to wriggle free but the top of his body was leaning over mine like a ton of bricks.
Suddenly, his hand dove for the bed sheet and tossed it away to the bottom of the mattress. Quick, strong fingers closed over my breast, squeezing the delicate flesh painfully.
"You're a lot of woman for seventeen," he growled, still sitting suddenly upright. "I've been wanting to get my cock in you for a long time."
I bolted in the opposite direction but Patrick grabbed me by the hair and yanked hard. Tears leaped into my eyes and a little scream burst out of my throat.
"Make one sound and I'll break your neck," he threatened as he forced my head back down onto the pillow.
I stared, wide-eyed as he ran his palm down over my breasts, along my stomach and onto my bush. This just wasn't possible, it couldn't be happening again. It had to be a bad dream. Sure, that was it. Another one of those nightmares I'd been having since the hospital.
The sensation of my nightgown being raised and bunched over my belly told me to quit kidding myself.
They must have done a real good job on you, Patrick must have been thinking as he touched his fingertips to the little black and blue marks, high at the insides of my thighs.
I turned my face away, crimson with shame. Underneath that nightgown I was naked and exposed to Patrick's view. It was no use to resist, I knew. One beating in a lifetime was more than enough. Besides, I told myself, if Patrick really put his mind to it, he could probably hurt me more than all four of those guys put together.
His tongue flicked out across his lips and his breathing got louder. I wanted to disappear, to die of shame as his hand felt its way down over the curve of my belly and his fingers started to stroke my pussy lips.
"How's that feel?" he demanded, in a tone noticeably thickened with arousal. "Bet you learned to like it that night, didn't you, baby?"
I didn't answer him. The steady, stroking motions of his caress were doing things to my cunt that I couldn't account for. I hated him, hated myself and hated the whole, stinking world.
"Come on, let's take this off," he rasped, pushing my nightgown up toward my shoulders.
I just lay there like a zombie and let him undress me, let him feel my breasts, my buttocks and my twat. What could he possibly do to me that hadn't already been done, I reasoned.
I found out very fast.
"Go on with what you were saying," Patrick ordered suddenly, and got to his feet.
"Do I have to?" I asked, knowing that my words would only excite him more.
"If you don't, I'm going to beat it out of you." His tone told me he meant every word.
Slowly, haltingly, I began to speak in a voice that came out dry and parched, like a half-dead whisper.
Once, Patrick interrupted. "Did the short guy tear your panties when he ripped them off?" he asked, working quickly on the buttons of his plaid shirt.
"Yes," I answered, choking back the tears.
"That's good, real good," Patrick said, in a dreamy, faraway manner. "Go on, go on, tell me the rest."
I guess I knew that while I was talking he was taking off his clothes, but the reality of my predicament didn't really get to me until I felt the mattress dip beneath the weight of his knee and I looked over and saw him stark naked, his cock jutting out.
My throat closed and my heart started to gallop like a runaway horse. Suddenly, I remembered that night when I was a kid, when I'd seen him on the sofa with Mom, and the awareness of what he was going to do to me, now, rushed in, loud and clear.
"Don't worry, baby, I'm not going to use this like you think," Patrick said, as if he could read my mind. "I got some other plans for us." With that, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up to a sitting position. "Get off the bed," he commanded, roughly.
I moved onto my feet woodenly, like I was in a trance. Patrick held onto my arm with one hand, while he stretched across the distance to the window and pulled down the shade. The room was plunged into semi-darkness and the air seemed to heat up to a hundred and twenty.
"Touch it," he snapped, and thrust his dick forward.
I didn't move. I just stood there, gaping at his pole, picturing, over and over, the sight of him and my mother, locked together in the living room, pounding away at each other.
His fingers closed around my own and forced my hand across the short space between us. The moment I touched his cock, his whole body started to shake. Squeezing my hand, he forced me to manipulate the foreskin and strengthen his already overpowering hard-on.
"Don't break the rhythm," he warned me, when he let go of my hand. "You do just like I showed you."
I obeyed him, knowing that there was no escape. Somehow, it seemed that my brain had clicked off, and I was somewhere else. I felt detached, unreal, mercifully separated from what was going on in that hot, airless little room as I jerked him off.
Until he grabbed my shoulders and forced me down onto my knees.
"Well, what the hell are you waiting for?" Patrick growled.
"I can't. Please don't force me to ... " Tears ran down my cheeks and my whole body was quaking.
"Cut the crap," Patrick snarled, twisting his fingers into my hair. "If you can do it for those guys, why not for me? Now let's go!"
He forced his cock in, and I thought I was going to be sick. Somehow, I managed to do what he wanted me to, despite the feeling that fists were hammering away at my stomach.
Suddenly, Patrick pulled away, lowered himself to the floor and stretched me flat underneath him. "Now, you're gonna really find out what good fucking means."
I thought I was going to be crushed to death beneath the weight of his massive body. Patrick was all around me all over me, inescapable. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to endure the pain as he lunged at me, again and again, ripping open the wounds that hadn't yet had the chance to heal in my cunt.
When he was finished, he got up onto his feet and toweled his cock with my nightgown. "We're gonna get along real fine, you and I," Patrick said, grinning down at my naked, crumpled body. "And don't think you can stop me by running to your old lady. It'll just be your word against mine, baby. And you know whom she's gonna believe." His grin was cruel, confident.
I knew he was right.
I knew when it came to choosing, Mom would take his side.
And at that moment, I knew it was time for me to get out. For good.
I didn't say any goodbyes, didn't leave any note. I just waited until Patrick had left the house and gone back to his bar on the corner. Then, I threw on a skirt and blouse, walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind me for the last time.
No hesitation. No looking back. I was finished with both of them, I knew. Finished with that slum. Finished with the slime of my past life. From now on, I swore to myself, I was going to make it on my own, and make it good.
Or die trying.
CHAPTER FOUR
I didn't know where I was going, didn't know what I wanted to do. All I knew was that I wanted to get away. Far away. And fast.
My life's savings consisted of nine dollars and twenty-three cents. Clutching this treasure in the pocket of my skirt, I started walking west, across the city. When I came to the docks, I turned south. And when evening fell, I found myself, hamburger in hand, riding the ferry from the Battery to Staten Island, for the fourth time.
Looking back on it now, I guess I was pretty plucky for a seventeen-year-old kid. Other girls that age would have been scared half out of their skulls to be running away. But not me. Not on your life. Just the knowledge that I was free, that I never had to walk down that dirty block again, or see Patrick's ugly face, was enough to fill me with enthusiastic optimism.
For the first time since that night in the park I felt good. Really good. The breeze blowing over the river cooled my face. The rolling, chugging sound of the boat lulled and calmed me. I was off to a good start, I told myself, and, somehow, I felt sure that I'd find some way to get along.
I got off the ferry on the Staten Island side and started walking. Now I knew that Staten Island was just another place, but, in my happiness, every place, every person, looked friendly. Every door looked inviting. As long as it wasn't home, I loved it, and was glad to be there.
I followed a wide, curving boulevard out past the business district until I came to the entrance to a highway. There, I stopped and tried to figure my next move. In one direction, there was nothing but private homes. In the other, a road that stretched out to heaven-only-knew where. The choice was easy.
Poking the air with my thumb, I started walking backwards along the side of the highway. What if no one comes along, I asked myself. What'll I do then?
It didn't take more than ten minutes for a truck to stop.
"Where you headed for?" the driver called through the open window.
"That way," I answered, pointing down the highway, in the direction he was headed.
"Fair enough. Hop in." He pushed open the door on my side and gave me a big smile as I struggled up into the car and slid in next to him.
"I've never ridden in a truck like this," I confessed aloud, unable to hide my enthusiasm. "It's fun."
"Not when you're driving an eight-hundred-mile haul, all by yourself, it ain't fun," the driver said.
"Have you been driving eight hundred miles?" My eyes widened with envy for him. I wished I could put eight hundred miles between myself and what was behind me. Hell, I'd never been further away from home than Coney Island.
"I've gone over four hundred, so far," he answered, glancing down sideways at my knees. "Started down from Canada, around daylight. Stinkin' gear box trouble around Albany, this afternoon."
"Where are you going to," I interrupted, thrilled with thoughts of faraway places and strange adventures, waiting ahead of me.
"Washington, D.C.," he told me.
"The capital?" I was trembling all over, thinking about the photographs I'd seen in school of all those monuments and the White House.
"That's the place," he smiled, laughing at me.
"Would you take me with you?" I blurted.
Again, he glanced down at my legs. "Depends," he said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smile. "I'm not really supposed to pick up hitchhikers, you know."
"I wouldn't be any trouble," I promised, switching my position in the seat so that my skirt rode up a little further toward my thighs. I guess my instincts had already learned how to get me what I wanted.
"How old are you, kid?" He sounded like he was having second thoughts.
"Nineteen," I lied.
"You're full of it," he told me, point-blank.
I giggled. "Okay, you're right, I am. What difference does it make?" I turned on my best smile.
His eyes never got up any higher than my breasts. I was breathing deeply, trying my damnedest to convince him to say yes.
"You're not in any kind of trouble, are you?" He regarded me suspiciously. "I mean, if you've done something wrong and the law's gonna be on your trail, I don't want any part of it."
"Relax," I said, patting his arm with gentle fingers. "There's nobody looking for me." My voice dropped. "If there were, I wouldn't have any reason to run away."
"Oh, it's like that, is it." He sounded genuinely sympathetic. Then, he turned his grin back on. "My name's Jack," he said, reaching into his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. "As long as we're going to be buddies, we might as well get acquainted."
* * *
It took about two hours until I found out exactly what being 'buddies' meant to Jack.
We'd been zipping down the Jersey Turnpike, having one hell of a good time. He'd told me all about what it was like to grow up in Montreal and how he'd never have gotten married because no one woman had ever seemed good enough for him.
Actually, I was getting a little embarrassed because his conversation was growing more personal with each passing minute. First, he'd tell me about some dame or other he'd met on one of his trips, then he'd sort of stop and wait for me to start a story.
I was sure he wanted to hear me tell him about the guys I'd fooled around with, but I was damned if I would. At least I wasn't about to tell him the truth. Instead, I made up tales about boys I'd met in school, and how we used to go for rides in their cars, and stuff like that, based mostly on the stories I'd read in the confession magazines.
I thought I was fooling him real good until he turned toward me, all of a sudden, and asked me how I got to be such a big liar, so young.
I fell silent and blushed all over, knowing that I'd been seen right through. "I tell stories 'cause I don't want to talk about what's real," I confessed, sincerely.
"Is that bad?"
"Take my word for it."
Suddenly, his mood changed. "I think we could both use a good meal. How about it?"
I agreed immediately, grateful to be off the hook. "I have eight dollars and some change," I said.
He patted my hand. "You just hang on to that," he said. "You're liable to need the money, one of these days."
He steered off the road and pulled into the parking lot of a diner, with a sign out front, welcoming truckers. All around us, like giant ghosts in the dark, were other trucks, big ones, small ones, all shapes and sizes, resting, it seemed.
The motor groaned loudly as Jack shifted into a lower gear and steered around to the back. He nosed the front of the cab way down to the far end of the big lot, away from all the others. "You wait here," he told me as he pushed open the door on his side. "I'll bring the food back to us."
I nodded, perfectly willing to worry about where I was going that I didn't care to think about much else. From what I could tell, Jack had decided to take me with him all the way to Washington. It seemed like I had plenty of time to relax and enjoy my new, delicious freedom.
By the time ten or fifteen minutes had gone by, though, I've got to admit I was feeling a little jittery. It wasn't that I was afraid he'd deserted me, or anything like that. It was those damned crickets. I know that sounds funny, but out there, in the country with no other people around and just me, alone, in the front of that dark truck ...
I grinned from ear to ear when I heard footsteps and leaned out the window to see Jack, clutching two bags of food, heading in my direction.
"Roast beef sandwiches and apple pie," he announced, hoisting himself in behind the wheel. "How does that strike you?"
"Couldn't be better," I answered honestly, and spread the napkin he'd handed me across my legs.
It wasn't until he turned the light back on in the car that I took a good look at him, for the first time. I don't really know how to describe Jack's looks. He was rugged and soft at the same time. Very manly and yet, his face reminded me of a child. Big, brown eyes that liked to smile, a sprinkling of freckles down his straight nose and across his cheeks, shiny, tumbling red hair, the kind you sort of want to run your fingers through and push back off his forehead.
We ate in silence. Jack wolfed down his food, taking amazingly large bites. Me? I nibbled. I guess the excitement of everything that had happened that day was more than my stomach could take. Not that I was sick, mind you, just preoccupied with the journey that lay ahead of me, with destination still unknown.
"Gimme those papers and I'll dump 'em," Jack said, when we'd finished our containers of steaming hot coffee.
I handed the napkins, bag and wrappings across, surprised to notice how clean Jack's fingernails were. I'd always thought that truck drivers were slobs.
"Well, I guess we're ready to shove off again, huh?" I said, when he'd returned from the garbage bin. I could hardly wait to get back on the road.
Jack yawned and stretched his arms. "I was kind of thinking we'd grab a catnap first," he said, looking off through the window of the truck. "I've had a rough day, you know?"
I smiled, suddenly embarrassed. "I don't think I have enough money for a motel room," I said. "And I couldn't let you treat me. After all, you were nice enough to buy me supper."
Jack tossed his head back and laughed aloud. A nice pleasing sound. "You really are green, aren't you?" he said, shifting around in his seat. "Look there." He pointed his finger behind us.
I hadn't noticed it in all that time, but behind the front seats of the truck was a little crawl space, with a mattress stretched in the corner. Suddenly, I understood where the drivers slept, while they were pulled off at the side of the road.
"You first," he said, his smile turning brittle. His eyes were hard and eager.
I began to get the message. I didn't like it. "I'm not really sleepy," I said without much hope that I'd get away with it. "Why don't you go lie down and I'll wait for you up here."
"Come on, now," Jack persisted, "you can't make it all the way to Washington without any sleep. We've still got a hundred and fifty miles to go."
It didn't take much to read between those lines. Inside of a second, any feeling I might have had in the way of friendship for Jack, disappeared. I had a decision to make, I knew. And fast. There was no guessing about what it was he wanted. For crying out loud, he'd practically come right out and asked me.
"Well?" His gaze was lingering around the tops of my knees.
There it was again. The ultimatum. What it really boiled down to, I realized, was, did I want to go to Washington or didn't I?
I did.
Nodding sourly, I leaned forward while he pushed the back of my seat down flat. Then, on hands and knees, I crawled over into the sleeping compartment, with Jack right behind me.
There wasn't any need to make small talk, any need to pretend, now. The second he turned out the lights his arms went around me and he pulled me close. His mouth hurried to find mine and covered it. His tongue plunged deep. His hand dove down over the curve of my buttocks, hiking my skirt up from behind.
The stiff material of his blue jeans scratched against the tender flesh of my pussy. I felt Jack's breathing turn shallow and rapid as he pressed himself tight against me, pumping his cock and rubbing the front of his body against the front of mine.
"Wow, you're really built for a young kid," he rasped when his hand had cupped over the swell of my breast and started to squeeze.
I preferred to ignore the 'compliment.' I would have been happy to do without it.
I waited resignedly in the darkness, expecting at any moment that Jack was going to get to work on the buttons of my blouse and proceed to remove my bra. I guess he was too anxious, too worked up to bother with second best. Instead, he reached down into my panties and started to poke around with trembling fingers into my snatch.
I didn't expect what happened next. I wasn't prepared. All of a sudden, I started to feel these nice, tingling sensations twisting down through my cunt. Every time he touched me, I gave a little gasp and shuddered, wiggling my hips and arching them upward.
"You like that, I see." His tone was thick with excitement, yet it was easy to tell he was pleased.
I couldn't answer him. I was too surprised, too confused to talk. Besides, I wasn't interested in conversation, right then. What I wanted was more of the same, more of that itchy irritating feeling that bothered me and thrilled the walls of my pussy.
Jack was happy to oblige. He wasted no time removing my panties. Then, sighing deep in his throat he began to stroke my hot, pulsating clit while I squirmed and writhed beneath his touch in delicious agony.
I know I would have been happy for him to just go on Like that, indefinitely. But Jack had other ideas, and, after all, he was only human. Without warning, he pulled his hand away and started to work on the buttons of his pants, tugging and fumbling in the darkness.
I couldn't stand the cruel interruption, didn't know what to do. In desperation, I threw my arms around his neck and mounted one leg up over his hip, sliding my body demandingly against his. "Please, don't stop," I whispered, hardly able to find the breath with which to get the words out past my lips.
"Take it easy, baby," he said, as he pushed his pants down toward his knees with one, determined shove. "I'm going to give you something even better than that, something you'll like a whole lot more."
Of course I know what he meant but I doubted him. Nothing could be nicer than that rhythmic pressure of his fingers on my cunt, I felt sure. And I'd had enough experience to know.
I was wrong. Dead wrong. The second he got me into position and started toward me, I heard my own sigh of pleasure filling the air. I'd never realized it was possible to enjoy this, to feel such wonderful surges of delight throbbing through every inch of me as he moved closer. Faster. Harder.
It seemed that all my self-control was gone and I'd lost my mind altogether. Unable to stop myself, I arched my back and met Jack's forceful motions with my own, picking up his heated tempo and matching it with energy I never knew I had before.
My elbow banged against the back of the car and my knees hit the ceiling, but I didn't care. All I knew was that something was happening that I'd never imagined possible, something that was a hundred times better than anything I'd been able to do for myself in the past.
And then, almost without warning, it happened. It was as though someone had pushed a button and sent us both flying into space, as we both shot our loads.
Jack had to fill my mouth with his tongue to keep my shrill cries of pleasure from attracting attention, but I didn't mind that, either. Shaking from head to foot, I clung to him, straining all my muscles, working to hold on to that miraculous feeling that seemed to be shattering my pussy into a thousand tiny, shimmering pieces.
The two of us carried on like there was no tomorrow, pounding away violently until that last second, before we were sane again.
"My, you're certainly one hot little number, aren't you?" he whispered in the darkness, and his voice was smiling.
And even then, I had nothing to say. Like the saying goes, my actions spoke for me.
Jack was hours behind schedule when he finally got to Washington.
And we fucked all the way there.
CHAPTER FIVE
Maybe I'm flattering myself, but I think that Jack felt sorry when we had to part company. I suppose I felt a little sad, too, but I really wasn't able to think about it at the time. The only thing that impressed me, right then, was that I'd actually made it to Washington. I couldn't wait to see the sights.
"The best of luck to you, kid," Jack said, standing outside the truck and looking down at his shoes. "I hope you make out."
"Don't worry about me," I answered, real sure of myself. "I'll be okay."
Without looking at me, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of fives. "Here, take this," he said, shoving the bills into my fist. "Till you get yourself settled."
I guess you're expecting me to say that I stammered and hesitated and told him it wasn't necessary. Not a chance. The way I figured it, I'd worked for that money and I deserved it. And since it was obvious that Jack felt the same way, I couldn't see any sense pretending that I didn't want the cash.
So I took the dough, shoved it into the pocket of my skirt, muttered my thanks and split, smiling to myself, because it was at that moment when I realized I could always make a buck. I wasn't ever going to have to worry about putting food into my mouth. At least not while I could still fuck.
Actually, my first 'fee' was a big twenty bucks. But to a kid who's never had it, those four fivers, back-to-back, looked like a fortune.
I blew it all in a day and a half. Easy come, easy go.
The next afternoon, down to my original nine dollars, I told myself it was time to get back to business. Washington had been a blast. Short and sweet. But now it was time to move on.
He picked me up on the south side of town, but this time I wasn't so green. Before I got into the car, I looked him over and sized him up, but good.
"Well, you want a lift, or don't you?"
He was driving a big, yellow convertible and that blue sports jacket he wore looked like it belonged on somebody's yacht.
"You bet I do," I said, tossing my black hair behind my shoulders and making with the big smile. "How far are you going?"
"All the way," he chuckled at his own insinuation.
"If you're lucky," I came right back with a twinkle in my eye and a look that let him know I was hip.
"I'm always lucky," he said, sounding real sure of himself. "Come sit over here and find out." He patted the white leather seat beside his thigh.
Immediately, I despised him, but it wasn't exactly like I had half a dozen guys making bids for the honor of my company. Besides, what had happened the night before last was still fresh in my mind, and I had a sneaky sensation that this guy would know how to give me a repeat performance.
"My name's Bernie," he said, as we pulled back into the stream of traffic.
"Toby," I answered, pushing the cigarette lighter in. "How would you like to tell me where you're headed?"
"Florida," he said simply, like it was the most natural place in the world to go.
"You're kidding!" I practically jumped up and down in the seat. This was really too much, too fantastic. After seventeen years of a dog's life, my luck was certainly changing.
"I'm not kidding at all," he said, zipping into the speed lane. "That's where I live. Miami."
I threw my head back against the seat and smiled up at the big, blue sky. "I'm going to love it down there," I said. "All that sand, and those palm trees."
"Who said I'm going to take you all the way?" Bernie sounded very amused. "You got money to pay for your room and board along the way?"
I stopped smiling at that sky, but fast. I hadn't planned to get down to brass tacks quite so soon, but it looked like I had no choice.
"You've got enough cash to cover us both, I'll bet," I said, kind of light and breezy, like there was no question what the score was doing to be.
"Yeah, sure I do," he said, keeping his eyes on the road: "But why should I want to?"
I threw him one of those whom-are-you-trying-to-kid looks and moved my hand across until it rested on his knee. "Fair exchange?" I suggested. "You take care of me, and I'll take care of you."
I could tell that Bernie was trying to come off like he could take it or leave it, but there are something's a guy can't hide, no matter how much he wants to. Before he had a chance to answer, I knew I had won.
"You know how to talk good, baby, but how do I know you'll come through in the clinches?"
I trailed the edge of one of my fingers up and down his thigh and felt his muscles tense and stiffen in response. "Why don't you give me a try and find out," I teased, figuring that should at least get me by until tonight.
I had no idea that Bernie was going to respond like he did, or do what he did.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, he lit up like a Christmas tree. "You know, that's a damned good idea," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I never would have thought of it. Imagine, shacking up in the middle of the afternoon, just like that." He snapped his fingers. "I got to hand it to ya, baby. You come up with the greatest ideas." His hand dropped to my knee and squeezed.
I don't have to tell you that I didn't plan for him to take it just that way, but once the offer was out of my mouth knew I couldn't turn back. So I just sat there, smoking fast, wondering what Bernie would be up to, next.
It didn't take long for me to find out. At the next intersection, Bernie made a right turn and before ten minutes had gone by, I was sitting in the parking lot of the Riverview Motel, watching Bernie hurrying back toward the car, dangling a room key from his hot, little hand.
Would you believe it, I'd lived for seventeen years and had never seen the inside of a motel room, except in the movies?
Needless to say, my eyes were opened wide, trying like the devil to take everything in at once. It was the nicest room I'd ever seen, with a blue, tweed rug and blue and green-striped drapes on the windows and this nice, clean-looking double bed.
That's all I had a chance to notice, because no sooner had he drawn the drapes than Bernie was all over me, kissing, feeling, squeezing and shaking like he'd been out on a week-long drunk.
I wasn't quite ready to be bounced around on that mattress like a tennis ball, so wiggling my way out of his bear hug, I excused myself. I explained that I simply had to take a shower before I could even think about letting a man fuck me.
My fatal error was in forgetting to lock the bathroom door.
I hadn't been under the spray for five minutes, and had just started to work a lather up over my body when I heard the pitter-patter of little feet. Do I have to tell you? There stood Bernie, naked as the day he was born, smiling stupidly and crawling into the shower with me.
What could I say? After all, I couldn't exactly pretend modesty and come off sounding like I meant it, so I simply stepped back and handed him the soap.
That was like an engraved invitation to Bernie. Without asking, he took the washcloth out of my hand and started to bathe me.
I can't even remember my old lady giving me a bath, but if she did, I'm sure it was nothing like that one. Bernie had no interest in getting me clean, just hot. And believe me, he knew how.
He started at my breasts, rubbing slow, rhythmic circles over my flesh until the tips stood out, hard and stiff. When he'd turned me toward the spray and rinsed me off, he came back to the area, only this time, with his mouth.
I'll say this much for Bernie. He may not have much else going for him, but he sure did have one hell of a mouth, and he knew how to use it. After two minutes of his lips and tongue going like crazy, in all directions, all over my body, I was ready to crawl those tile walls. And I couldn't have cared less if we never made it to Miami!
"Please, Bernie, let's go inside," I begged, shivering with delight as he nuzzled my soft cunt lips.
"Not yet," he growled. "I'm not finished showering you." And with that, he grabbed the washcloth again and started to apply the soap to my already aroused twat.
When I was wet and bubbling from top to bottom, Bernie handed over the soap and cloth. "Now me," he said, grinning devilishly.
I jumped at the chance to give him a little of his own medicine. Quickly, I soaped up the square of rough, nubby material, then started to apply my hand to the places where he'd be most-his cock and balls.
Bernie rocked back on his heels and leaned his weight against the slick, wet tile wall behind him. His eyes were closed and the breath was coming in and going out in short gasps between his clenched teeth. It wasn't hard to tell that he was flying on the same cloud with me. In fact, it was damned obvious. And I was glad.
I rinsed him off and leaned down to press my lips against his quivering cock, to pay him back in kind for driving me nuts, only five minutes before, but without warning, Bernie grabbed me underneath the arms, stopping me.
"I don't want you to do that, ever," he rasped, becoming suddenly serious. "I'll call the shots when we're together, understand?"
I shrugged. Your loss, mister, I thought, but of course I didn't say that to him. I knew far too much about what some guys are like when you get them mad. I wasn't about to take any chances.
Bernie positioned us both under the running water. When the soap was all down the drain, he stepped out onto the bath mat, reached for a towel and held it out in my direction.
Naturally, I started to take it.
Chuckling impishly, Bernie pulled it back, out of my reach. "I'll dry you," he informed me. "Just stand still."
Stand still? I would have had to be made out of stone to obey him. Behind that thin material, Bernie's fingers were like busy little bees, buzzing all over me. Before the water was half gone from my skin, he had me jumping up and down with impatience, throbbing all over, wild for hard, direct cock-to-cunt contact.
After what seemed like hours, Bernie decided we were dry enough to continue on top of the bed. I had to stop myself from running into the next room and leaping onto the mattress.
Instead, I let Bernie take my hand and lead me across the rug. When he stood me next to the bed, I looked at him questioningly.
But not for long. In a second, he'd placed himself on the edge of the mattress, directly in front of me. His hands reached up, found my breasts and got to work, coaxing them to violent, pulsating life. At the same time, his tongue found my belly button and started to blaze a hot, moist trail downward as Bernie slipped slowly to the rug, toward my pussy.
I thought I was going to scream with the wonder of what was happening. I hardly felt Bernie's fingers, digging deep into the soft flesh of my behind, hardly felt the stubble of his beard, scraping the insides of my thighs. I was half-looped with excitement, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, trying like mad to position myself, somehow, in order to make more room for him, to make what was already open-my cunt-even wider.
Bernie solved my problem in a minute. Hoisting himself suddenly onto the bed, he plopped down across the mattress on his back and stretched his arms out toward me. "Jump on," he said, invitingly. "It'll make things easier, for both of us."
I didn't need to be asked twice. In a flash, I was straddling Bernie's body, inching myself up over his chest according to his directions.
Thank goodness there was a headboard to grab onto, or I'm sure I would have plowed smack into the wall. My breasts were jiggling like crazy and my long hair tumbled across my face as Bernie slid his hands up my thighs, lifted his head from the pillow and went to work in earnest on my burning love hole.
I let myself go entirely, as if I had any choice, and pistoned my hips in tempo with the rushes of pleasure pounding like a storm through my cunt. My mouth was wide open and my tongue felt parched and swollen.
I couldn't seem to get enough.
And neither could Bernie.
He ate me like that, again and again, until I thought my spine would break if I didn't straighten it out. Smiling tiredly, I slid down beside him and stretched, full length.
Bernie kissed me lightly on the mouth. He was looking very happy.
I couldn't understand that. "What about you?" I asked, surprised at how brazen I was.
"Nothing to worry about. I'm just fine," he assured me.
"You sure, there's nothing else you want?" I just couldn't believe it.
As if to prove his point, Bernie yawned and closed his eyes. "I'm perfectly content," he murmured.
I figured, there were times when it doesn't make sense for a girl to argue.
He had given my pussy a work-out I'd never forget, and all I had to do was enjoy it.
CHAPTER SIX
I've got to admit that as I got to know Bernie better, my opinion of him changed. Sure, he was a little bit of a simp, and a whole lot of a bragger, but he had a heart of gold, to say nothing of a terrific bedside manner.
Sure, I thought his demands were strange, especially since they never varied, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? It made Bernie happy to make me happy. Everybody was satisfied. It was a great relationship, while it lasted.
It wasn't until we were about a hundred miles from Miami that Bernie confessed he was married. I can't really say I was surprised. That is, not until he told me what his wife was like.
I was waiting for the next question, and I didn't have to wait long.
"You suppose we could manage to see each other, every now and then?" Bernie asked, looking kind of sheepish.
Poor guy, he really was one of the world's most fantastic losers. I hated to hurt him, but there didn't seem to be any alternative.
"I'd like to say yes, Bernie, but how can I? I don't have any idea where I'll be living, what I'll be doing, how long I'll stay in town."
"Look, I've got a friend," he said, perking up visibly. "He helps me out when I, you know, when I need to get away from Rita for a while. He fixes me up with dates, lets me use his place, he's really great."
"So?" I felt my elbow curve upward. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what Bernie was about to suggest.
"This guy has a lot of contacts, knows his way backward and forward around Miami. If you go to him, and tell him I sent you, he'll get you a job and really set you up in style-new clothes, your own apartment, everything." Bernie glanced at me hopefully. "Well, what do you say?"
"He sounds just like a probable pimp. What's this joker's name?" I asked enthusiastically. "Where does he live?"
Bernie pulled over to the side of the road, fished a pencil and paper out of the glove compartment and got to work in a hurry. "I'll write everything down for you, so don't worry about forgetting it," he said.
Wait till you hear about this!
His name is Fingers, and I'm sure they call him that because of the way he handles the two things he likes best-money and snatch.
I was overwhelmed before I ever got to set eyes on him. Just walking into the living room of his suite, in one of Miami's biggest, plushest hotels was enough to bowl me over. The place looked like something right out of a movie set-deep, pearl-grey rugs and black leather sofas and chairs, gleaming chrome and glass tables, and at the end of the gigantic room, an African mahogany bar.
"I'm expected," I told the blonde who'd answered the door.
We looked each other over fast, like two cats getting ready to fight. She was tall, bosomy and had a body that was just made for action. Acres and acres of luscious curves, all ripe and waiting. The skin-tight dress she wore left little to the imagination.
"You sure you're expected?" she asked, looking dubious.
I can't say I blamed her. After all, there I was, surrounded by all that wealth, and me, looking like somebody's poor relation in a plain old skirt and blouse, my hair pulled back into a pony tail and tied with a rubber band.
"I was told to be here at three," I answered, making sure my hurt feelings didn't show.
"Very well, have a seat." She pointed toward the pair of soft-looking, matched sofas. "I'll let you know when you can go inside."
I sank down into the sofa cushion and watched the blonde wiggle toward the adjoining room. She had to be somebody's girlfriend, I told myself. That type just couldn't be anybody's wife, certainly not anybody who lived here.
In about two minutes, the door swung open again and a man stepped into the room, all smiles. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I knew the score.
There's something about a pimp that sets him apart from other men. This one reminded me of a fox, dressed in a silk smoking jacket. His dark, straight hair was oiled and slicked back from a narrow forehead. Flashing, black eyes peered out of deep sockets.
"So you're the little girl Bernie recommended," he said, sliding smoothly across the room in my direction. "I'm very glad to meet you, Toby. Very glad, indeed."
I managed to say something of the same sort while he pumped my hand. I could smell his cologne, drifting around me like a fog.
"What do you think, Sylvia?" he said to the blonde.
My eyes darted over to her as she stood, hand on hip, appraising me coolly.
"I don't know. Can't tell. Better take her clothes off. And that hair's got to go-that's for sure."
"Take my clothes off?" I blurted. I mean, I dug the scene there, and I was prepared for the kind of offer Fingers was going to make, but man, this was moving a little too fast for my liking.
"Sylvia, where's your tact," Fingers said. "We haven't even said three words to this young lady. It's not nice to shock people like that."
"Yeah, that's right," I agreed, nodding.
"Craperoo." Sylvia walked disgustedly over to the bar, fished a can of beer out of a refrigerator and settled her curvy bottom on a bar stool.
"You must excuse Sylvia," Fingers said, sitting us both down on the sofa. "She's had a rough night."
"A rough life, baby, a rough life," Sylvia piped up from across the room.
We ignored the outbursts.
"I'm going to be very frank with you," Fingers went on, extracting a long cigarette from a brushed gold case. "I've got a thriving little business going here, of which I'd be delighted to make you a part."
I nodded, reading him loud and clear, so far.
"As you must know, Toby, Miami Beach is a vacationer's paradise. I supply the angels, for a high price of course."
"Of course," I echoed.
"Naturally, a young little girl like you would be in great demand, not only for our usual run of the customers but for special occasions. Like parties, and conventions, et cetera, et cetera. That means you could make yourself a nice little bundle, we both could."
"How much," I demanded. I mean, if he expected me to put myself out on the line, just like that, it damned well would have to be worth my while.
"You'd bring me a hundred a night. We split that, fifty-fifty."
It was worth my while.
"Now, are you ready to take your clothes off," Sylvia called, sliding off the bar stool and onto her feet.
"I think we'd better go inside," Fingers said.
For fifty bucks a night, I was ready to skip naked all over Miami.
I followed them into the adjoining room. Needless to say, there was a big, double bed, which didn't surprise me. It was the mirrors, lining the walls and ceiling that gave me the jolt. But not for long.
"The clothes, Toby," Fingers reminded me gently, but with a slight edge of impatience in his tone.
"Yes, yes, of course," I smiled apologetically and stripped.
Fingers sat himself down on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to my every move. As the last of my clothing hit the rug, I could practically feel those hungry little eyes of his, burning up my flesh.
"Not bad, not bad at all," he said. Then he butted his cigarette in a marble ashtray.
"Some pair of knockers," Sylvia chimed in. "There go three of my best customers."
For the first time, my smile was sincere, happy. I was proud of my body. Glad that it didn't look any the worse for wear.
"Looks are one thing but actions are another," Fingers said, undoing the sash of his jacket. "How well do you take orders, Toby?"
That one caught me off-guard. "Depends," I said. "Who's giving them?"
"In this business, the customer's always right. That's our motto around here. We aim to please."
"I, I think I understand," I said.
"Be sure you do," he continued. "Whenever you're with a client, his word is law. Whatever he says, goes. Whatever he wants, you give." His tone softened, and he chuckled under his breath. "At these prices, you've got to deliver the goods, all of them."
"I'll try," I said sincerely, as serious as a Girl Scout, taking the oath.
"That's a good girl." His manner was thick with approval. "What do you say we give it a trial run?"
Sylvia snorted contemptuously. "Look honey, in this racket there's no room for prima donnas. We're like one big happy family, here, you know, we do anything and everything together when we have to."
I gulped, willing away the last of my shyness. "Okay, you're the boss."
"That's what I like to hear," Fingers drawled. "Now come on over to me and let's get started."
I walked over to the bed and stood, waiting for him to tell me what to do. Instead of talking, Fingers lifted himself to a sitting position and clamped one of his hands over the inside of my thigh.
"Spread," he rasped.
I did. Blushing from top to bottom.
Fingers didn't seem to care if I turned green. He was too busy, giving me a physical like no doctor ever dreamed of.
I gasped as his hand clamped in between my legs and started to rub the cunt flesh. Hot little spasms of response started jumping through my pussy.
It didn't take any imagination to figure out what he was up to. Willingly, greedily, I let him guide my ass until I was placed conveniently above his mouth within reach. When he made his move, my fingers dug into his knees and I threw my head back, moaning with pleasure.
That's when Sylvia got into the act. Smiling hungrily, she crawled onto the bed, wiggled her way in between his legs and got to work on those pants of his with lightning fingers.
In a matter of seconds, Fingers was stripped from the waist down, his hips bucking frantically into the air. I watched, fascinated and revolted at the same time, while Sylvia returned and dove at his exposed, throbbing cock with her open mouth.
She knew just what to do, every trick in the book. One minute she was touching him, real soft, slow and easy, the next minute, her hands were flying, goading him on, squeezing his gism up, up with her snake-like tongue.
She seemed to know just what he liked and when he was ready, all of a sudden, Sylvia's blond head plunged downward and her lips framed themselves around the man's dick in a final mighty sucking motion.
It was as though his reaction charged through both of us. Underneath me, I felt Fingers go wild. His tongue turned into a dozen butterflies, flying in my twat.
I saw Sylvia's hand disappear down her own pussy.
I heard Fingers groan with uncontrollable urgency.
I felt my own hips pick up their pace, grinding down on his mouth, felt a wonderful tension growing stranger, hotter, approaching the breaking point.
The three of us exploded at once, a twisting, thrashing mass of flesh, groaning, writhing, pounding out our cream into waiting mouths.
When we broke apart, nobody had the energy to speak for a long time. Finally, it was Fingers who ended the thick, heady silence.
"I think you're going to do just fine, kid. Just fine."
And so I was in business.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next six months changed me into a different person. One that even I, myself had difficulty recognizing, sometimes.
To begin with, Sylvia took me out the very next day and had me 'renovated', as she called it. Done over from top to bottom.
I felt like crying at first when the beautician hacked off my long hair but soon I was pleased, and amazed. The short, pixie cut brought out my large eyes, accented my delicate features and made me look appealingly young and elf-like.
But I think I liked the apartment, best of all. Of course, the layout wasn't anything like what Fingers had. Still, it was a place all my own in a very nice, residential neighborhood. And the rest of 'the girls' were right there in the same house for company, when we weren't busy with the customers.
And the bank account grew. I made sure of that. Lots of the other girls spent their dough stupidly. On guys, on jewels. Not me, I was saving for the future.
Still, I wasn't happy. Not completely. I couldn't put my finger on it but I knew, or rather felt something was missing.
It couldn't have been sex, I told myself. Hell, I'd had more of that in six months than most people have in a lifetime. And I mean, all kinds.
Like the guy from Texas who rubbed mineral oil all over my body and tried to catch me, like I was a greased pig.
And the little, bald man from Oregon who just wanted me to sit, spread-legged on top of a glass table while he lay underneath and looked up at my pussy.
You can see that I'd worked up a lot of patience for all kinds of people and all kinds of games. In fact, I'm sure that I never would have had an inkling of what I really needed if not for the night of that birthday party. The night when all the hatred for me, buried deep inside me came ripping loose. The night when I reached my limit.
Fingers had called to wake me, around noon and told me to get right over to his place. I didn't think anything about it, because he often phoned to let me know what was on for the night. So I slid into a pair of tight capris, pulled on a blouse and told myself I could work on my sun tan another day.
The minute I saw Fingers, I knew something was up.
He went over to the bar and opened a bottle of his best scotch. "Want a drink," he said, reaching toward the glasses.
I shook my head. "Too early for me, honey. Something on your mind, today? Something special?"
He smiled guiltily. "As a matter of fact, yes," he said looking strained.
I swallowed hard, feeling the worst. "Cop trouble?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that," he assured me. "That's always taken care of."
Immediately, I relaxed. If the law wasn't involved, nothing could be too serious to handle.
"How would you like to make yourself five hundred bucks," he said, just like that.
I sat down fast. "All for me?" I squeaked.
"Every last penny," Fingers promised. "This is a special favor, an accommodation for some very important customers. I'm more interested in finding the girl than making a profit for myself."
"Doesn't matter," I said. "As long as a man's involved, I can handle him."
"I'll keep smiling if you will, after tonight," he said with his mood strange.
"All right, out with it, what's the big deal?" I asked.
Fingers walked over and sat down in a chair across from me. "A couple of guys from town, politicians, have rented a house on the channel for the weekend. Seems some big-shot friend of theirs from Washington is coming down, and tonight's his birthday."
"Is there really any more to tell me?" I grinned smugly. "I've handled a party before. Worked the Convention, remember?"
"This party's going to be different, believe me," he went on, leaning forward. "Like I said, the 'birthday-boy' is a big-shot and very important. His friends are going all out to surprise him with a gift."
"A gift?" I didn't understand such sentimentalism.
"That's where you come in. You're the gift."
I snorted. "Is that all?"
Fingers shook his head. "I wish it were. Look, Toby, I'm really kind of fond of you. Maybe I'll just tell these Johns to forget it-that I couldn't come up with a broad."
"And do me out of five hundred dollars? Over my dead body."
"Exactly. That's what I was talking about." Fingers dropped his voice to a deadly serious pitch. "These fellas like to get a little rough some times. And I have no idea what their friend will do, once he gets going."
I leaned over and patted his hand. Poor Fingers. He was trying to break it so nice and gentle. "Don't worry about me turning squeamish," I assured him. "Believe me, I've known guys who've played rougher than your politicians ever could dream of."
I shuddered at the memory of that night in the park. I knew that no matter what happened tonight, it couldn't possibly be anything even close to what I'd experienced.
And if I'd lived through that, I could certainly do whatever was required for that five hundred. "Just tell me where to go," I said.
Fingers leaned back and sipped his drink, obviously relieved. "Sylvia will fill you in on all the necessary details. Just come over here tonight, around eight."
I got up and winked. "You've got yourself a date," I told him. Then, picturing that money added to the balance of what I already had in the bank, I sauntered out of the room.
* * *
When eight o'clock rolled around, I arrived at the apartment and Sylvia looked worried.
"Not you, too," I said, laughing at her. "Look, Fingers told me about tonight, and I mean everything. I've handled rough guys before, believe me. I know what to do and how to take care of myself."
"You can never tell with these weirdo's," she answered, sulking.
"If Fingers isn't nervous, why are you?"
I could swear I saw a tear in Sylvia's eyes. "Don't you understand, Toby. He's got to please these guys. If they decide they're mad at him-" she made a cutting gesture with her hand. "There goes our whole setup. Think you'd stay young for long, in jail?"
I was beginning to feel a little edgy myself, then. "What a bunch of Calamity Jane's," I cracked, determined not to give in to fear that had to be unwarranted. "Just tell me where the party is, will you?"
Sylvia nodded toward the bedroom. "You have to come with me, first. This party is in costume."
She wasn't kidding. I don't know where she got the outfit from, but I'd never seen anything like it before or since. To begin with, everything was black. The bra, which fit snugly, had two little holes in the tips-just big enough for my nipples to poke through.
The panties were another story, altogether. They were made of a sheer, gauzy material that showed everything. And if that wasn't enough, the rear section was cut out, and edged with ribbon. I had to laugh when I looked at myself in the mirror. It looked like somebody had framed my ass cheeks.
"Boots?" I said in surprise, as Sylvia brought a pair of high, needle-heeled shoes into view.
"Don't ask questions. I just follow orders." She handed them over to me.
A skin-tight black dress, zipped all the way down the front, completed the outfit. I felt a little odd in that get-up, but I said nothing as Sylvia accompanied me down to her car.
"You can still back out of this if you want to, Toby. This is your last chance."
I didn't answer. I was too busy, taking in the sight of a white, stucco mansion, gleaming in the evening like some palace out of the Far East. "Is this where I'm working?"
"That's the place," Sylvia answered. "These boys aren't poor."
That was the understatement of the year, I told myself. I couldn't even start to imagine what a house like that must cost. If I lived to be a hundred, I'd never see so much money, all in one place.
Sylvia told me I was to knock on the door. I waved good-bye to her, honestly anxious to see what the inside of that place looked like.
A tall, skinny man with glasses answered. One look at me, and he knew I wasn't from Western Union. "Come right in," he said, stepping back to make room.
I didn't know what to look at first. The furniture was exquisite. Expensive, Baronial pieces of dark, polished wood. And the paintings! Like right out of some museum. Must be priceless or something.
"Right this way," the man said, interrupting my inspection. "Everybody's waiting for you, inside."
I followed him through the reception room, my high-heels clicking sharply over the polished, parquet flooring. When we got to the other end, he stopped, and flung open a pair of huge, carved oak doors.
I gasped, and my eyes bugged wide. The man, standing in front of me was a famous political figure. His picture had been in the paper hundreds of times.
Behind him, a couple of other guys were standing around, drinks in their hands, shouting, "Surprise, Happy Birthday."
"What a lovely little surprise," the man said.
"How do you do, Mister-"
"Master," he corrected me, his voice suddenly changing to a harsh, threatening tone.
I averted my gaze from his head and stood, silent.
He walked over to me, reached for the tip of the zipper and snapped it down to my knees in a second.
"Take off the dress," he ordered.
The rest of the room fell silent.
I was used to doing what I was told, so I simply proceeded to let the garment slide down over my arms and fall to the floor. Immediately, all eyes dropped to those two pink nipples, peeking through my bra.
"Now, you may come inside," the man told me.
Nodding, I walked forward into what looked like a study. Books lined the walls and huge, overstuffed chairs were arranged, facing each other.
I was told to walk to the center of the room, and I did while the six men seated themselves, facing me.
"Since it's my birthday, I'll go first," the famous one announced, beckoning to me with his fingers. "Come over here, slut!"
The little hairs at the nape of my neck seemed to stiffen with resentment, but I remained silent. Sylvia had been right, I thought to myself. This certainly was a group of weirdo's. I didn't particularly want to imagine what they had in mind for tonight's entertainment.
"On my lap. Quick." His tone was cruel, and the steel-grey eyes that matched his hair, cold.
His fingers found one of my nipples and began to pinch.
Then he started to sooth the hurt with his tongue.
He reached behind my back, unfastened the clasps of the garment and tossed the bra behind the chair. There was an audible gasp in the room as my huge breasts tumbled free of their satin confinement. His hands returned to my breasts and started to knead the flesh there. So far, so good, I told myself. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad, after all.
The next thing I know, Mister Big had spun me around and planted me, face down across his lap.
Suddenly, it dawned on me the reason for those exotic panties. But before I had the chance to do anything to defend myself, his palm was rubbing over the quivering flesh of my ass.
The first smack ripped a gasp out of my throat. I wiggled around, trying to get loose, trying to rub my stinging behind, but I was surrounded. Dozens of hands, it seemed, were holding me down. And all the time, one sharp slap was followed by another.
When they let me go, the tears were streaming down my face and I was sobbing uncontrollably. I should have known my suffering would turn those bastards on, even stronger.
First, they made me undress them. Each and every one of them, then with me on my knees in the middle of the rug, they took turns using me-ignoring my pleading for just a moment's rest, in between sucking their cocks.
When I'd thought the worst must be over, someone got the bright idea to tie me, face down and spread-eagle over a table. I kicked and fought, but I didn't have a chance. There were all of them, against one of me.
I heard the leather strap swinging through the air just a second before it came crashing down across the backs of my thighs.
"Take off those panties," somebody said, undisturbed by screams of protest.
The sheer garment was ripped from my body and now I was completely naked, bound and at their mercy.
I begged them, pleaded with them, but that's just what they wanted to hear. One by one, they took turns flogging me with the belt. Each time the leather landed on my swollen, tender flesh, I jumped, but the ropes around my wrists and ankles kept me from going very far.
Suddenly, the beating stopped. I tried to turn my head to see what was going on, but my face was angled down toward the rug and my shoulders were above my head, blocking the view.
I heard one of them giggle. A deep, maniacal sound. I quivered with fright.
"I said it's my birthday, I go first, remember?"
I couldn't imagine what he had in mind, but I didn't have to wait long to find out. Strong, painful fingers grabbed my legs and forced them even wider apart. A wet, sticky grease was applied to the crack of my ass.
I felt rubber against the inside of my thighs, and I couldn't believe it. I'd heard about those things, listened to the girls talk and kid about them, but I'd never seen one-never been fucked with a dildo.
He didn't wait. Didn't give me time to adjust, to prepare. Without another moment's hesitation, he rammed forward with all his strength. The pain in my ass made me faint.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sylvia took care of me. She was the best friend I ever had. Night and day, she was by my side, feeding me, applying a cooling, healing salve to the welts on my body. She kept me company and bolstered my spirits, never leaving my apartment, except, of course, when she had to go out on business.
I guess I looked and felt a hell of a lot worse than I actually was. And, on top of everything else, I was mad. Damned mad. And that didn't help matters, any.
I didn't hold Fingers responsible. After all, he'd tried to warn me. And he never really thought those guys would go that far. If he told me once, he told me a hundred times how sorry he was and how bad he felt about the whole incident. He even threw in an extra hundred bucks out of his own pocket to make it official.
But I'd had it. There wasn't enough money in the world to make me sell myself to another man, to make me rent myself out so some animal could use me to get his kicks.
"You're talking like that 'cause you're still burned up," Sylvia said, one afternoon, when I let her knew what was on my mind.
I forced a smile, knowing that she was caught in the middle. On one hand she sympathized with me, I'm sure, but on the other, she felt a deep loyalty to Fingers. In her own way, I think Sylvia was in love with the guy.
"I wish I could agree with you," I told her, as gently as possible. "But I know how I feel, Sylvia. I know when I've reached the end of my rope."
"Craperoo." She brushed aside my announcement with a wave of her hand. "Wait until I feel better, baby. Wait until that old itch hits you again. Look," she leaned forward on the bed and stared straight into my face, "you're going to want a guy, sooner or later. It's only natural. So what's the sense in giving it away for nothing when you can haul in fifty bucks a night for the same fun?"
I shook my head, absolutely sure that she was wrong. "Never," I whispered. "Never again."
Sylvia drew back, her face lined with questions. "What are you trying to say, honey?"
I shrugged. "Can't really spell it out for you," I told her, honestly. "I just know inside that I'm not interested in any more guys."
A slow, knowing smile began to spread across her features. "There's more than one way to hit the target," she said, grinning devilishly.
"I don't think I'm following you, Sylvia."
She brushed aside a wisp of hair that had fallen over my ear and got to her feet. "Wait until you're all better," she told me, softly. "Wait until you're ready for action, again. Then, we'll fix you up. You'll see what I mean."
I don't know what the hell she was rambling on about but I was too bushed to pursue the subject. I yawned, rolled over onto my stomach and let myself drift back off to sleep, wondering how long it was going to take until I stopped feeling like an old, battered wreck.
Another week or two slipped by, during which I just seemed to drift back and forth, in and out of sleep. Then finally, one day, I looked in the mirror and to my delight and relief, I looked and felt like my old self again.
"Well, well, well, look who's made the miraculous recovery," Sylvia said, bursting in through the front door with a load of groceries in her arms.
I spun around, thrilled to feel alive, again. "How does the corpse look?" I called, in her direction.
Sylvia winked. "Delicious. Wait until Fingers gets a load of you. There's one guy who's really going to be glad that you're better."
My lighthearted mood vanished. I wasn't anxious to do this, didn't want to disappoint them, but I knew the time had come to set Sylvia straight, once and for all.
"I'm not going back to work, Sylvia." I said it softly, but firmly.
Sylvia seemed to turn to stone. "Do you know what you're saying, kid? Do you know what you're throwing away?"
I took one of the grocery bags and led Sylvia into the kitchen. "I can't help the way I feel," I said, without looking directly at her. "That's the way it's got to be."
"Okay, let's say you retire," she began, as she started to pile the cans and boxes on top of the table. "What are you going to do with yourself? How will you live? Can you get a job? Can you earn a living?"
Of course, I had no answer for her. No definite ones, at any rate. I knew there was nothing I was trained for. No line of work in which I'd had any experience, except hustling my pussy. Still, there had to be another way. I'd have to make one.
"If you want me to, I'll tell Fingers that I'm leaving," I said, figuring I could at least take that one burden off Sylvia's shoulders.
"There's no rush," she said, suddenly sounding nonchalant. "It'll keep a day or two."
"I'm not going to change my mind, if that's what you're waiting for."
"Okay," she said. "Subject closed. What do you say we just drop the whole matter and go to the beach?"
I couldn't understand her sudden change of attitude, her quick acceptance. But I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Just give me five minutes to slip into a suit," I told her. "The rest of the groceries can wait for later."
"Take your time," Sylvia called after me as I started into the bedroom. "I have to make a phone call, anyway."
I dug down into my bottom drawer, pulled out my favorite orange and yellow bikini and slipped out of my nightgown. The reflection in the mirror smiled back at me as I appraised my own nakedness. I saw my own breasts, high and firm, smooth as silk. Absently, I raised one hand and touched it lightly to a soft, pink nipple.
Sylvia was right. The old urge had come back. I felt it, in a second, throbbing through my breasts, through my stomach, sliding up and down my thighs. The nipples between my fingertips had become stiff and hot.
My body needed a cock. Wanted it, badly. And for the first time in a long time, I had no idea what I was going to do about that.
I'd just finished slipping into the scanty swim suit when Sylvia entered the bedroom. "We're going to have to beat those wolves off with clubs," she said, smiling at the sight of me.
I let the remark pass, grabbed a towel and started for the door. At that moment, I couldn't have cared less if no man looked at me for the rest of my life.
After so much time indoors, I appreciated the warm sun more than ever. I lay on my back, oiled and glistening, enjoying the sensation of being baked alive. It was as though all the pain in my body were being cooked out, and health and fresh energy were rushing in to take its place.
"Well, hello, there." It was a familiar, lilting voice, very close by.
I opened my eyes and cupped my hand in front of my forehead, just in time to see the most stunning brunette, standing at the foot of our blanket.
"Toby, I'd like you to meet Elise," Sylvia said, brushing a patch of sand from her bare knees. "She's our latest addition. Joined the family about a week ago."
"I'm happy to meet you," I said, wholeheartedly, unable to take my eyes off the girl. There was something about her, something exotic and comforting at the same time. Perhaps it was her quick, ready smile, or the beautiful, even, olive-toned skin. She was tall, very tall, with long, beautiful legs. The rest of her body was flawless.
Of course, Sylvia had arranged the whole thing, even though I didn't know it at the time. But looking back on it, now, I suppose that even if I'd been wise to Sylvia's scheme, I would have gone along with it. Gladly.
Elise joined us, at Sylvia's invitation, and before an hour had gone by I felt like I'd made a wonderful friend. Elise was so easy to be with, such a pleasure to talk to. Unlike many other women who just pretend, this one seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say. She made me feel somehow, important. Smarter and more worthwhile than I knew myself to be. And strangely, pleasantly, contented.
I didn't become fully aware of her body until we'd gone in for our swim. Sylvia declined to join us, explaining that salt water made her skin peel. So Elise and I ran down to the water, hand in hand, giggling like two schoolgirls.
Like I said, Elise was something else, in the looks department. She looked like some sculptor had put her together, lavishing loving care on every detail.
We splashed around in the water, swimming and playing like carefree children. I heard myself laughing, loud and long, squeezing with delight at this complete release from everything unpleasant.
The first time her hand brushed across my breasts, I thought it was an accident. The second time, I wasn't so sure, but it didn't seem so important, any more.
The smile remained constant on my face and I kept up my side of the conversation, but all the while, I was watching her. And then, all of a sudden, Elise was floating on her back her hair rippling along the surface of the water, her eyes closed.
I found myself looking down at her breasts and the breath stuck in my throat. Through the thin material of her halter I could see her nipples, firm and prominent, protruding brazenly.
Maybe it was the cold water, I tried to explain to myself, unable to pry my gaze loose from the beautiful sight. I don't know what happened to me, or why, but suddenly, I had this irresistible urge to reach out and touch one of those points of flesh, bobbing so temptingly close in front of me.
She didn't move, didn't say a word. But when I looked at her face, the smile there had widened.
Beneath the surface of the water I felt her fingers close around my knee and slide upward, onto my thigh. "I think we understand each other, Toby," she said, without opening her eyes.
Let me tell you, I didn't understand anything. All I knew was that these wild, exciting sensations were playing havoc with my nervous system. They seemed to radiate outward from where the tips of her fingers were touching my flesh, filling me with a weakness, a desire that I wasn't prepared to handle.
"I don't know anything about women," I confessed, hardly able to make the words come out of my hot, dry throat.
Elise's eyes fluttered open and their hazel color seemed to take on the bright, shimmering highlights of the tropical sea. "In that case, it will be my pleasure to teach you," she said, throatily, as she let her feet sink down to the sand. "Would you like to come to my apartment?"
I shivered, with nervousness and fascination. "What about Sylvia?" It sounded stupid, but it was the only thing I could think of to say.
"I'm sure she'll understand." And with that, Elise started walking back toward the beach.
I followed like a faithful puppy. Without a word, I listened to Elise making some explanation for our departure. Sylvia waved us off, saying she'd drop by later for a drink.
I seemed to float, half an inch above the ground, all the way to Elise's place.
She locked the door behind us and I felt my knees turn to jelly. "This way," Elise said, taking me by the hand and leading me into her bedroom.
And then, without another word, she simply turned me around, gathered me into her arms and kissed me full on the mouth.
I flew! It was like I'd been made for this. Like I'd been spending my whole life waiting for this very moment, without knowing it.
We sank down together onto the bed and I stretched out on my back, giving myself over completely to whatever Elise had in mind to do. "You're sweet, baby," she whispered, kissing the lobe of my ear.
I trembled with excitement and inched a little closer toward the warmth of her gorgeous body. Her lips found mine again, and at the same time her tongue slithered into my mouth.
Cool, gentle fingers inched their way down into the top of my bathing suit and scooped my breasts out into view. I gasped as expert manipulations coaxed my nipples erect, making them ache with the desire to be touched, to be sucked on.
As if reading my thoughts, Elise slid her mouth down along the side of my neck, over the curve of my shoulder and onto the tip of my breast. Her lips pursed and captured a nipple in their grasp.
I felt like I had a hundred and six degree fever. Unable to stop myself, unable to control my curiosity, or my desire, I reached around and cupped my hand over the curve of her hip, just above the waistband of her bikini panties.
Elise was not about to deny me anything. Wriggling up along the bed, she placed herself right alongside of me, our faces very close. "Go ahead," she murmured, pressing her cunt tight up to mine. "Explore. Find out what it is that makes you happy, really happy."
That was all the encouragement I needed. Groaning with arousal, I plunged my hand down inside the damp material and slid my fingers over the soft, yielding mounds of her ass cheeks.
"That's not what you're after," Elise's tone was mildly reproachful. "Go ahead," she whispered. "Be brave, find what you're really looking for."
Of course, I'd touched a lot of cock and touched myself. But up until that moment, I never would have had the nerve to touch another woman's pussy.
Trembling, hesitant, I moved my fingers over the swell of Elise's hip and onto the smooth plane of her belly.
"Well?" Her tone was a challenge.
A challenge I couldn't resist.
We both gasped as my fingers found that hot, moist twat and began to probe. At first I was very careful, afraid that I'd hurt her, but my rapidly-increasing desire took care of all that, but fast.
Elise wiggled her hips, goading me on, telling me without words that she, too, wanted more. Shedding the last of my inhibitions, I started to give her the works, double time, just the way I liked it best when I was alone.
Her reaction told me I'd hit the right spot. Groaning with delight, Elise tugged the bottom of my bathing suit down past my hips and pressed her hand in between my cunt lips.
I kicked my panties off and opened myself to her, fully. Together, we found the right tempo, stroking our clits with anger, purposeful motions, rolling our tongues around in each other's mouths, and pounding the hell out of that creaking, swaying bed.
We hit the top at the same moment. Eyes fluttering, legs kicking wildly into the air, we drove each other over the brink and floated lightly, slowly, back to earth, folding each other gently, now, soothingly, in the aftermath of our violent orgasms.
It was the soft knocking at the front door that finally got us apart.
"Who do you suppose that is?" I asked, slightly annoyed at the intrusion. I'd been just about ready to start the fun going for a second time.
Elise kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Only one way to find out," she said, reaching toward a chair where her robe was.
"Well, I see you two ladies have found the answer at last." Sylvia's voice boomed through the bedroom as she walked in, just ahead of Elise.
I turned beet red and grabbed for the blanket.
"No need for false modesty," Sylvia chirped, plopping herself down at the foot of the mattress. "I've had a hunch this would do the trick, for the last couple of weeks. Elise, here, just helped me prove it."
Comprehension dawned on me. "The two of you planned this whole thing, didn't you?" I croaked.
"Don't get your dandy up, darling," Elise cut in, smiling at me in a way that made me ache for more of her. "I loved every minute. You're the nicest trick I ever turned."
How could I stay mad. "Well, I guess there's always something left to learn," I grumbled.
It was decided that afternoon that in the future, my customers were all going to be women.
CHAPTER NINE
My first and last customer came into my life the very next day.
Sylvia, Elise and I had been spending the afternoon at the beach, working on our sun tans. I'd been feeling a little nervous, having a few second thoughts about switching over to women, 'professionally'. The other two had razzed me on it, trying to kid me out of my apprehensions.
"There's nothing to it, honey, believe me," Elise said, poking her beautiful behind up at the sun. "If you can make it with one woman, you can make it with another."
"But I really know so little," I complained.
"Want me to teach you more?" Elise had a sly twinkle in her eye.
"Leave her alone, glutton," Sylvia came in. "Can't have out little star tired out before the show starts. That's bad business."
We all laughed.
"All you have to do is lean back and relax," Elise went on. "These girls know exactly what they want. Take my word for it. They'll show you what to do."
I picked up a magazine and tried to lose myself in the article, but still, I couldn't get rid of that nagging doubt. "I suppose it wouldn't be so hard if I knew the woman beforehand, you know, like I knew you, Elise."
Elise laughed. "You knew me for how long, a whole hour? Besides, yesterday was your first time. You didn't learn how to take on a man in a minute, did you?"
I sighed, telling myself that she was probably right. After all, I reasoned, she should know.
"I've never met the woman," Sylvia piped in, "but Fingers tells me that Alma's not too bad. Actually, a nice person."
"Alma? Alma Prague?" Elise asked. "Is that who Toby's got lined up for tonight?"
Sylvia nodded.
"Do you know her?" I asked Elise, hopefully.
"Know her? She kept me busy for two nights, last week. Baby, you are a lucky girl. This one's a real prize. Handsome, and very butch when it counts, and loaded!"
Elise was right.
Alma Prague was handsome, and aggressive, and very rich. I could tell that the moment I saw her. From her wavy, salt and pepper colored hair to her graceful arch of her feet, encased in thin, gold sandals, the woman reeked of success.
And she liked me, too.
"If I'd known what Fingers was sending, I would have picked you up myself, hours ago," she said, a minute after I'd gotten out of the cab.
I accepted the martini she'd mixed and sat down on a long, white sectional sofa. "I think I'd better tell you something," I began, feeling my tongue tie itself into knots inside my mouth.
Alma's eyebrow arched curiously. "You've got some rare disease, is that it?"
I had to smile, and I was grateful to her for easing the tension. "Hardly," I answered. "It's just that I'm, well, kind of new at this game."
"I don't believe that for a minute."
I didn't blame her. She'd misunderstood. "I mean with women."
"Oh, I see." Her green eyes sparkled with new interest. "Aren't I the lucky one," she murmured.
"I hope so," I told her, sincerely. "I'll really do my best, I mean that."
She walked over to me and guided me up to my feet. "I'm sure a beautiful girl like yourself can do no wrong." Alma kissed me lightly on the forehead. "Now, come inside and have dinner with me, before everything gets cold."
It was the most delicious meal I'd ever tasted. Of course, I didn't know one French dish from the other, but I couldn't have enjoyed myself more.
And the wine! I swear, it went down like water, one glass after another. And all the time, Alma kept talking to me, helping me relax, telling me about the books she'd written and the far-away places she'd visited, and the race horses that her family raised, back home in Delaware.
By the time we went back into the living room, I was half crocked, but very pleasantly so.
Alma walked over to a long, low cabinet and flipped on the hi-fi. "Dance?" She stretched her arms in my direction.
Her lead was smooth and a pleasure to follow. As she held me close, against her body, I could feel the softness of her breasts and hips, and smell the tangy scent of her cologne.
Her lips brushed against the side of my neck and I heard her draw her breath in, quickly. "You're a real doll," she whispered, hugging me a little tighter.
I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound dumb, so I just kept my mouth shut and continued to dance. At least I wouldn't have to worry about what to do, I assured myself. Like Elise said, all I'd have to do was lean back and relax.
That was the problem. I couldn't relax.
Not that I didn't want to, I guess it's just not in my nature.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Eventually, Alma led me into her bedroom-a big, blue and white affair with double glass doors that faced out over the water. "This is beautiful," I murmured, watching the lights of boats flickering out on the horizon.
She walked up behind me and wound her arms around my middle. "It's even nicer when you've got someone to share it with," she breathed, nuzzling my neck.
I sensed then, for the first time, that despite all her money and success, Alma was a lonely person. It was a shame, too, I told myself, because she was a good woman. A warm woman. A woman who had a lot to give.
Her fingers were locked over the middle of my belly. Slowly, they parted and began to find their way up toward my breasts.
I leaned back and rested the weight of my body against her, while her fingers toyed with my nipples through the thin material of my dress. I could feel her own flesh, pressing into my back. The tips of her breasts were growing stiff.
"Let's go to bed," she whispered. It was as simple as that.
I started to unbutton my dress, but Alma took my hands and placed them gently at my sides. "No, let me do that for you," she said, opening the buckle of my belt.
That's when I started to feel funny.
It's not that I hadn't been undressed before. Hell, I can't count the number of guys who've taken my clothes off. But this was all new to me, the closeness, the gracefulness, the softness of another woman's body. I wanted to touch, to explore, to discover.
Alma wouldn't hear of it. "I'm the butch," she informed me, in no uncertain terms. "I work on you. You don't work on me. That's the way the game is played."
I didn't have too much time to think about it, though. As soon as she'd stripped me down to my skin, Alma started to peel out of her own clothes.
Her body was beautiful. The whitest skin and narrow, lithe hips. More than ever, I wanted to touch her, but I'd already been told to keep my hands off.
"Just lie down," she instructed me, pointing to the bed. "I'll do the rest."
She wasn't kidding, either. The minute I was on my back, Alma was crawling up over me. She kissed my hair, my eyes, my mouth, then started to work her way down toward the waiting pussy.
"You're so beautiful, so very beautiful," she kept murmuring, all the time, as her lips moved from one breast to the other, then to my belly, and cunt.
I thrust my hips upward and twisted my fingers into her hair as her tongue found its mark and started to flutter, on my clit. She worked like a demon, tirelessly, relentlessly, expertly, until she had me spinning, just on the very edge, right up there at the breaking point.
"Don't stop," I growled. "I'm so close, so close."
That's just what she'd been waiting for. Abruptly, Alma pulled away, then climbed up on top of me.
I didn't know exactly how she planned to continue, but I found out real fast. Before I had a chance to think, her hands had found the backs of my knees and were guiding my legs up into the air.
Smiling and red-faced, she ground her cunt down to mine and started to rub.
I felt the striking pleasure of perfect contact and began to move with her, realizing that here was one more road to fulfillment that I'd never travelled. My cheeks were burning hot and my breasts were crushed flat beneath Alma's.
The weight of her body was knocking the breath out of me, but I dared not stop her. I could tell by her quick, direct movements, by her little gasps of breath, that she was almost ready, almost finished.
It was her way or not at all.
I took what I could get. Shoving my heels into the mattress, I complimented the thrusting motions of her twat with short, rapid gyrations of my own.
In no time, Alma was spinning out into space, sighing, grunting, whimpering with pleasure, as she screamed.
And I was right there, flying along with her.
We lay in the stillness of the bedroom, breathing heavily as our senses returned to us. And hanging over our heads, thick, heavy and inescapable, was a cloud of depression.
I felt it.
And I knew that Alma felt it.
"Disappointed?" Alma asked, reaching over toward the bedside table for a pair of cigarettes.
"Not at all," I lied, figuring that my feelings really weren't all that important. After all, Alma wasn't shelling out a hundred bucks so that I should be happy.
"I'm glad," she said, handing me a cigarette. "It takes a little time, I know, but you're going to learn to like my kind of love."
"I already like it," I whispered, suddenly feeling sorry for her. It's one thing when there's nobody around to love, I knew. But even worse when there is, and you can't let yourself go. Poor Alma, I thought. She had herself all bottled up. Locked in a cage of her own making, from which she could never escape.
She was a successful, wealthy socialite. I was just a hundred dollar a night whore. And I was better off.
"I'm so glad you like me," she said with all the innocence of a five-year-old child. "I don't have to tell you how crazy I am about you, do I?"
"The feeling's mutual," I went on, determined that the customer was going to have a good time. Anyhow, I figured a little dishonesty couldn't make so much difference. After tonight, she'd probably never see me again.
"In that case, spend the weekend." She smiled, delighted obviously, with her brainstorm.
"I'd love to, but I can't," I told her.
"Nonsense. I'll arrange everything."
Within five minutes, she had Fingers on the phone, and full use of me, for the next two days.
"We're going to have ourselves a ball," she said, when she was back near me, on the bed. "Tomorrow, we'll go out on the boat. And Sunday, you can come with me to meet Steffie at the airport."
"Steffie?" My forehead wrinkled with curiosity. "Who's she?"
"My niece," Alma said brightly. "She's coming down here for vacation. You'll love her."
I felt the discomfort sliding over me like a wave. "Don't you think that might turn out to be a little awkward," I questioned. "After all, I don't exactly look like the upstairs maid."
Alma kissed me lightly on the lips. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that," she whispered, as she reached across me to put out her cigarette. "Steffie knows the score."
"Is she-" I paused, searching for a nice way to put it.
"Gay?" Alma looked amused. "Not yet, at least I don't think so. But then, I haven't seen her since last Christmas."
She took my cigarette out of my hand and squashed it next to hers. And in a few minutes, neither of us was in a position to do any more talking.
CHAPTER TEN
Steffie glided off that airplane like a fresh breeze, all cool and crisp in a white, pleated mini-dress and a big, picture hat. Wheat-colored hair flowed down past her shoulders and her figure was right off the cover of a fashion magazine.
We were the same age, the same height, but I sensed, even then that we were as different as night and day. A difference that I found very appealing.
The minute I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes, I knew she was hip. And I knew she read my feelings like a book. And I knew that both of us were wishing that Alma could be someplace else.
"Steffie, you look absolutely marvelous," Alma bubbled, hugging her niece. "Even for a runaway."
"Please, don't use that word," Steffie said, sourly. "It reminds me of home. And that's the last place I want to think about."
Alma introduced us, and Steffie looked me up and down, mildly curious. Suddenly, she seemed to have made up her mind. She broke into a friendly smile and her fingers clasped mine.
That was it. I knew I'd found what I wanted. What I needed. The only problem was managing to get Steffie alone, and convincing her that she needed me, too.
Alma seemed to sense that something was up, that the currents charging through the atmosphere had nothing to do with her. As if she meant to torture me, she made it her business to see that I was never out of her sight, not for a minute.
That Sunday afternoon and evening was sheer misery for me. Every pore of my body ached for Steffie. I couldn't remember ever wanting anything more. And the longer I remained in her company, the better I got to know her, the more I wanted her.
I felt like smacking Alma in the teeth when she announced that it was time for bed. Forcing myself to be civil, I said goodnight to Steffie and accompanied Alma into the bedroom.
Alma tried everything to get me to respond. For what seemed like hours, she worked on me with her mouth, her hands, her tongue.
I couldn't help myself. All my thoughts were elsewhere. Tonight, I couldn't pretend.
Alma sighed and rolled away to the other side of the bed, sweating from her fruitless efforts. "What is it, honey," she asked tiredly, sadly.
"Don't you know?" I whispered.
The breath, the life, seemed to rush out of her through one long, wistful sigh. "It's Steffie, isn't it?" Alma asked, her tone flat, dead, deflated.
"Yes."
"You want her?"
I couldn't lie. Not for all the money in the world. Not this time. "I want her."
"And what about her, does she want you?"
"I hope so, Alma. I really do."
Alma hesitated for a moment. Then, she slapped me playfully on the behind. "Well, for crying out loud, why don't you get the hell into her room and find out, girl?"
I sprang out of the bed like I'd been hurled from a slingshot. Without stopping to dress, without caring that I was stark naked, I ran down the hall towards Steffie's room.
The door was open and the room was dark.
I stepped inside.
"It's about time," Steffie whispered.
My eyes darted through the dimness until they found her, blonde and pale, bathed in the moonlight coming through the window. The nonchalance in her voice might have fooled me, if I hadn't seen the interest flickering in her eyes. I felt my heart sinking, disappointed that I wasn't going to be her first.
"You just going to stand there, looking stupid?" She moved to the side and patted a place for me on the mattress.
I rushed over and sat down, not knowing what to do, what to say.
Steffie seemed to understand my uncomfortable predicament. She reached out and took my hand, as if to offer me strength.
I smiled quickly.
"Aunt Alma know you're here?" she asked, wrinkling her nose impishly.
"She sent me," I confessed.
"Well, I like that," Steffie complained. "I should think you wouldn't need to be prodded.
I leaned a little closer. "I didn't. I just needed permission."
"Permission?"
"I'll tell you about it some other time."
Again, that uncomfortable silence rose between us. I swallowed, trying like crazy to get my thoughts in order, to find something to say that wouldn't sound like some back-woods jerk.
"If this makes it any easier, I like you," Steffie whispered.
"Why?" I asked, point-blank. Not because I'm always so direct, but because I'd suddenly realized that underneath her sheer, baby-doll pajamas, she was naked. I was lucky to be able to even manage that one word.
"Because you're on your own. Independent," she answered.
"That's a laugh," I cracked. If she only knew!
"What are you talking about," she went on. "You take care of yourself, earn your own living. What difference does it make how you do it? It's more than I can say for myself."
"You mean you know?" I blurted.
She looked at me incredulously. "You think I'm a moron or something? Of course I know. You're not the first young thing in Aunt Alma's life, you know."
Suddenly, I got brave. "How about in yours?"
The blaze, worldly veneer shattered before my eyes as Steffie blushed, deep red. "You've got me, there." She smiled.
And, at that moment, the whole world seemed to open up for me.
I gathered Steffie into my arms and pulled her up against me. The taste of her young, pink mouth was like honey wine and I thought I was going to pass out with the pure ecstasy of it.
Steffie shivered against me and wound her arms around my neck. "You'll have to teach me, Toby," she whispered. "I don't know anything."
"No problem," I told her, kissing her hair. "I know enough for both of us."
I slid her down flat on the mattress and pushed my lips to the silken hollow of her throat. I felt her tremble beneath my kiss and I could swear I heard her heartbeat quicken.
Her breasts were like velvet-all soft and yielding to the touch. The nipples were tiny, pink-little flowers, just waiting to bloom.
I took my time, kissing her breasts, her cunt, using every trick I knew to arouse her. Steffie closed her eyes and stroked the back of my neck, communicating with her fingertips.
We were working on the same wavelength. I just knew it. I could have cried with joy.
My hand found the top of her panties and toyed with the elastic band. Steffie shivered and squeezed her knees together.
I knew that feeling. Knew what she needed, what she wanted. Heaven and hell couldn't have stopped me from giving it to her.
My lips followed close behind my fingers as I eased the panties down below her belly, and onto her bush. The sweet, delicate fragrance of her cunt was working on me like an aphrodisiac. I kept telling myself that I had to go slow, had to exercise patience.
Together, we reached the heights, taking from each other-but giving to each other as well.
Later, much later, when she was snuggled in my arms, happily asleep, I let the tears that had been waiting, slide down my cheeks. So this was where it had all been leading, I told myself. So this was what I'd been waiting for, longing for, without ever knowing it.
And I knew that the wasted years of my life were all over, and only good times lay ahead of me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We lay there all morning. Lazing in our new found love. When Steffie awoke, I reached for her soft bush immediately. I ran my fingers along her clit and I could feel it respond. The juice made my fingers move faster. I pulled the cunt lips apart and tickled her clit.
I could feel her sexiness as she spread her legs apart. I pushed my middle finger into her cunt. She started kissing my back. Her tongue worked into my mouth and we were sucking at each other.
We pressed our naked bodies against each other and I was thinking of going down to suck her pussy, when the door opened. There stood a great, red haired man. He roared as he marched across the room toward us. He grabbed hold of Steffie and started shaking her by her shoulders.
"You crummy dyke! You run away from me for this? I'm going to kill you! Is this what your mother and I invested in a good education for?" he screamed.
Steffie was gasping. Her cunt juice was running down her thighs and all I could think of was how much I would like to put my tongue into it.
"Is this how you decide to pay us back? So, now after all the things you have made us suffer, you decide to put a new one on us!" shouted this huge man.
"That double-crossing bitch! Aunt Alma called you! That bitch! That jealous bitch!" Steffie yelled back.
"It's a good thing she called me, too. Your mother and I have worried sick. You slut! How can you do such a thing to us, Steffie?" he shouted.
With a renewed kind of strength, he started thrashing her across the face. I could not stand it any more. Steffie, who had loved me so beautifully last night, was being thrashed for her life, right in front of me.
I flung myself in front of her. "Stop, please, stop," I begged, but nothing seemed to affect this man. He seemed to have gone insane. He was thrashing wildly and indiscriminately now. I got it on my ass and it really burned where he hit.
Then, he quit beating up Steffie and concentrated on me. He started hitting me on my ass, with great wallops. Steffie climbed up onto his back and tried to pull him away from me. "Leave her alone! What the fuck has she done to you? Daddy, stop hitting Toby," Steffie pleaded.
But, her father ignored her and continued the thrashing with renewed vengeance. I noticed that Alma had come into the room and was watching the whole scene with a superior smile.
I felt like killing her. It was her fault. She had called Steffie's father. Now, she was actually enjoying the beating I was getting.
He pulled my hair really hard while he continued to beat me. Steffie tugged at her father from behind. Suddenly, her father seemed to lose his balance and she was succeeding to pull him down.
I found myself lying on top of this man. I could feel his hard cock under me. I could feel its stiffness. Steffie struggled out from under her father. He put his arms around me and said, "You've ruined my daughter."
"I've done nothing of the sort," I said back to him. I pushed and pulled and tried to get away from him. His arms were too strong. He had pinned me down to him.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson for fucking up my daughter," he yelled, "so get dressed and I'm going to teach you the kind of lesson you won't forget."
He pushed me up and I got into my clothes while Alma, Steffie and her father watched me in silence. Steffie stood there without a stitch on her and I felt like running to her and holding her real close to me. But, I had no wish to be thrashed by her father again.
I looked to Steffie. She looked worn out. Sad and alone. Harassed. I wished I could do something for her. But what could I do with this great big father of hers looming over everybody?
My hands were shaking and I couldn't fasten the buttons on my blouse. I slipped into my little skirt and my shoes. The man grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the door.
"Where do you think you're taking me?" I screamed. I pulled and struggled, trying to get away from him. He held me so I could barely move. Alma just looked at me coldly and Steffie seemed to have frozen into a dazed position.
"You have no right to touch me! I'll have you arrested for assault! You better just let me be or you're going to be in trouble," I threatened him.
"We'll see about that," he said calmly.
I felt like killing him. What right did he have to treat me like that because I was fucking his daughter? I hadn't raped her. She was just as much to blame as I was, if one had to look for blame. This man behaved like he owned everybody.
He dragged me out of the house and threw me into the front seat of his car. "Put Steffie on the first plane home, Alma," he shouted, "I'll be home on the next one."
He pressed the accelerator and the car went lurching forward. I was terrified. I had no idea where he was taking me. He might try to turn me in to the police, he was so demented with rage.
He raced the car to the highway. I didn't think it would be too good an idea to ask him where he was taking me. It might make him more angry, I thought, and now I guess he could do pretty much what he wanted with me-the beast was so strong!
Without thinking of what I was doing, I started to cry. I hadn't planned it or anything. It just started to happen and I did nothing to stop it. He started getting nervous. He kept looking at me helplessly.
"Hey, kid. Stop that sniveling, will you?" he said, almost gently.
I was surprised by the gentleness in his voice. I didn't think he was capable of it. But, steered on by his nervousness, I started to cry more and more. I wailed and howled until I had made him really uncomfortable.
He kept looking at me and I set out on a new stream of tears. He put his hand under my chin and made me look at him.
"I didn't want to frighten you. I was terribly angry with Steffie and I guess I took it out on you. I am really ashamed. Please forgive me," he said in the gentlest of ways. "I'll do anything to make you forget my terrible behavior."
No man had spoken to me so tenderly and humbly. He looked so large and yet forlorn and helpless. My heart went out to him. I forgot that he was a male. I forgot my hatred for males. To me, this man was a gentle, tender human being.
I had not felt anything for a man for such a long time, that these new feelings made me cry out of sheer relief. Everything that I had done with women flew out of my mind. I wanted this man very badly.
I was surprised at myself. I had no idea that I could feel this way.
"Where should I drive you? I'll drive you anywhere you want," he said.
I continued to cry. I looked at him through my tears and was amazed to find myself actually feeling some warmth towards this man.
"There, honey! I didn't mean to frighten you," he said. He started rubbing my back soothingly and kept saying things like, "There, there," and not much else. I liked him rubbing my back so I continued to howl. He went on rubbing my back. The buttons on my blouse had been impossible to fasten when he had dragged, me put of Alma's house.
He couldn't help but look at my tits as he consoled me. I stuck them out as much as I could. He didn't have much choice but to start stroking them. His large, rough hands rubbed at my nipples. They responded by stiffening into his hands.
"Call me Dave," he said softly, "I know you are Toby. I heard Steffie call you that."
"Yes, I'm Toby," I whispered.
"Toby, it has been ages since anybody made me feel this way. And, you have done it today. I haven't felt anything but animal, sexual urges for a long time. Today, you make me feel like I really care for you. It hurt me terribly to see you cry."
"Well, you did frighten me. I have never been so frightened," I said.
"I'm sorry, Toby. I really mean it," he said to me.
He leaned over my tits and took one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue played with the very tip of my nipple. He did it beautifully and I felt the juices in my cunt pour out. I arched my back and pushed my breasts back and forth from his face. He sucked and sucked and I longed for a cock in my cunt.
I put my hand on his cock. It was hard and big. I could also feel that the tip of it was wet. His pants were damp. I unzipped his fly and slipped my hand through his underwear. I found the thick cock head. It practically jumped into my hand.
I pushed the skin around it. I rubbed the tip with my fingers which were now soaked with his juice. He slipped his hand under my skirl and started rubbing my pussy.
I wanted all of him to come inside my pussy, all in one go. But, he went on playing with my cunt and sucking my nipples.
"I've got to fuck, I've got to fuck!" I shouted. Cars were whizzing past on the highway and I figured that if someone really cared to look, they could tell what was going on. I didn't care. I wanted him really bad.
Fuck love, I wanted a fuck and I wanted it right then. And, here, he was playing around with all these words. I decided to get into action. I flung my right leg over him and sat astride on his lap.
His huge dork played on my clit. I swayed from side to side and then pushed his tremendous cock into my pussy. I could feel the tip of his prick right at the edge of my cunt. The walls of my pussy closed all around it and hugged it tight.
I held him close to my tits and they rubbed against his hairy chest. His cock pushed in and out. My cunt reacted too by pushing back and forth.
It had been too long a time since I had a man's cock inside me. It had been Dave's understanding and gentleness that really got me. Besides enjoying the sexual part of the whole thing, I began to feel a tremendous warmth towards Dave.
After all, what could I do? It was difficult to accept your daughter lying nude with another girl in bed. It had probably frightened him, more than anything else.
I held him tightly against me as I rocked back and forth on him. He was panting heavily. I could feel his hot breath on my shoulder. His saliva dripped on to me, since he had closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
As I continued to push harder and harder, Dave moaned louder and louder. His moaning excited me even further. I shoved my pussy against him until he was practically yelling in my ear. I loved it.
Then, he pushed against me and I screamed in pain and pleasure. I could feel his cock almost go through me as he jolted me, again and again. He gave me a tremendous heave and gave me the biggest push of a cock I had ever received in my life. The shock of it made me open my eyes. Standing next to the car window, I saw a man in a police uniform.
He had folded his arms across his chest and was calmly watching us in the car. He made no move. At first, I felt complete panic surging all over me. I wanted to shout out to Dave and tell him that there was a cop watching us. But something stopped me.
It was the smile on the cop's face. It looked to me like the cop didn't want us to stop. So, I decided not to say anything. It was after such a long time that I had experienced something beautiful with a man and I wasn't going to spoil it for nothing.
It excited me to have the cop looking in on us, although perhaps I would have preferred the first time with Dave to be a private session.
My clit rubbed against Dave as he practically grazed my insides with his beautiful cock. It was a sensational feeling. All my pores seemed to open up with sexual excitement.
No wonder Steffie was so great in bed! She took after her father!
Such strength and gentleness wrapped into one person. I had never met a person like Dave before. I held on to him, like I never wanted to be parted from him. As I clung and humped back and forth, the policeman kept up his steady smile.
"Toby, you are the greatest fuck in the world! Why couldn't I have met you before? I have really needed something like this all my life," Dave panted.
"I am sorry for thrashing you earlier. You looked so soft when you cried, I wanted to hold you and protect you from the world," he said.
He wanted to protect me! His words caressed my shoulder. He gasped on my skin as he said these words. I could not believe that a man could be so good to me. I would do anything for him, I decided.
In the meantime, the cop's eyes were still on us. It was as if he was frozen into place. I felt Dave pushing his cock deeper and deeper into me. We began to tremble as we both neared our climaxes.
Dave dug his teeth into my shoulder, ever so gently, and then his cock juice thrashed into me. He shook and vibrated hard for the longest seconds I have ever known. My climax was the longest I had known in a long while. I shook with him and dug my nails into his back.
We relaxed and slumped against each other. We lay there, rested and calm, I with my head on his shoulder. I forgot the cop who had been watching us all along.
Suddenly, we heard the car door open. It was the cop. "And, what do you two think you're doing on a highway? Do you think the 'No Stopping' sign is up there for decoration? You are not allowed to stop on this highway, unless your car breaks down. You should be aware of that," he said sarcastically.
I jumped off Dave's lap and knelt on the car seat to pull my panties up. Dave's prick lay there completely exposed when I jumped off. He quickly pulled his zipper. His hands were trembling and he seemed very nervous.
The cop seemed to notice Dave's nervousness. Dave started to say something when the officer cut him off, "This girl looks half your age to me. Maybe, she's run away from home?" he asked suggestively.
I hated him for talking the way he did. It was quite obvious that I was old enough to take care of myself. He just wanted to make things as difficult as possible. I felt terrible for Dave. I didn't want anyone to make Dave uncomfortable about his age. He had been good to me. This cop was obviously the worst of them all.
Dave seemed petrified. He didn't say a word. He behaved as if he had been doing something illegal. I wished he would tell the officer off, but I guess Dave was still recovering from the throes of his orgasm, as I was. We just stood there like dummies.
The officer seemed to be enjoying it even more now. "I think you had better come with me to the station. We'll have to see what to do about you. Maybe, find your parents?"
All I could do was glare at him. He caught hold of me by the arm and dragged me to his patrol car. I noticed that the light on top of his car was not flashing and I wondered why.
He reversed his car and I saw Dave standing outside his car, quite obviously wondering what to do. I had been whisked off from right under his nose and he seemed bewildered.
I turned to look at Dave. He had got into his car and was following the patrol car. I looked across at the policeman and I didn't like what I saw at all. He looked very arrogant and cruel. It seemed to me that he thought himself to be very tough. I hated that.
I wondered where he would take me. To the police station and book me? For what? I was beginning to feel angry with this man. He had no business to interfere. I wasn't going to take any nonsense from him. I felt reassured as I saw Dave's car following us.
Suddenly, before I realized what happened, the patrolman took an exit off the highway. Dave had not expected it either. He was not quick and could not take the same exit. I saw him look at the patrol car helplessly, as the officer took this sudden turn.
"Where do you think you are taking me?" I screamed.
"You'll see, baby, you'll see," he said to me.
I felt like hitting him. How dare he treat me as if he could take me where it pleased him? But, that was exactly how he treated me.
He drove his car towards another highway. He knew his way around the place. He took another quick exit and I found myself on a tiny side road, surrounded with nothing but shrubbery and trees. There wasn't a soul around. I knew one thing, I could scream all I wanted to and nobody would hear me in this unearthly place. I grabbed the car door and tried to open it. Before I could do that he hit me hard on the hand.
"If you try to do anything foolish, there's more where that came from," he snarled at me.
How deeply I hated him. I sat there and looked at him wondering what to do.
"Now, let's see some of the stuff you showed that old goat in his car," he shouted at me.
All I could do was let out a quiet scream as he grabbed me. He calmly took off my blouse. He pinched my tits. It hurt and I informed him that he was hurting me.
"That's the general idea, baby!" he said.
I begged him to let me go. But, he said, he had ideas of his own. He pulled off my skirt and played with my pussy through my panties.
He rubbed his hand hard and rough over my cunt, I felt nothing and I said nothing anymore.
He pushed his cock into my cunt. It was still fresh from Dave and I thought only of him. He shoved my shoulders and he had me pinned down to the car seat "There's absolutely no point unless you enjoy it too, you know," he said, "I don't want to do anything you don't want. From the way you were doing it with the old man in the car, I thought we could have a little fun."
He pulled his cock out of my cunt and sat there and looked at me. He was puzzled. Apparently, he had thought that I was the kind who was ready to fuck with anybody.
"Well, what do you want?" he asked me.
"I want you to eat me," I said to him, just to see his reaction.
He was shocked. "I don't do those kind of things. I've never done that. I think it's dirty," he stated.
He looked down quietly without saying a word. He was embarrassed. I was sure he had only had straight fucks. It interested me. It would be fun to initiate a man into a method of sex that was new to him.
"I guess then, it's time you tried it," I said.
I got the feeling that I was dealing with a virgin. I knew he wasn't a virgin, of course, but the fact that he knew nothing about cocksucking and the like, excited me. Which little antiseptic world had he been living in, I wondered. Such innocence, in spite of being a cop. I was truly amazed.
He still had his fly open and his cock stuck out as he sat there, looking a bit lost. I suggested that we get into the back seat of the car. We got out of the car and I said to him, "How about taking off your trousers before you get in?" He pulled them off quickly. He sat at the edge of the seat and carefully took off his shoes and socks. He still had the top half of his uniform on, including his hat. He looked up at me as I stood near him, as if he was asking what to do next.
"Lie down on your back," I instructed him. I slipped out of my clothes and left them in a pile on the ground, just outside the car door. The fresh, cool air felt good against my skin. It made me feel extra sexy. It was beautiful to be outdoors in the nude.
I went over to him and sat down between his knees. His cock was pink and cute looking. He looked funny lying there with his hat on and nothing on below, but I decided it was safer not to laugh.
I took his balls into both my hands. I cupped my hands under them and played with them ever so gently. I rolled them around and as I did that he began to moan.
"Hey, you really know how to do it," he said to me in a heavy voice. His cock had a terrific hard-on and stuck out in the air.
I began to massage the part of his prick near his balls. I rocked around slowly, fiddled with his balls, and then faintly gave a touch of a massage to his cock. He began to get really excited and his cock juice was running all over my fingers. I bent over and let my tits graze against his knees. He leaned over and rubbed them while I worked on his cock area.
I pressed my head between his thighs and he couldn't reach my tits anymore, so he let his hands drop to his sides. I started licking the insides of his thighs, like a cat cleans itself. He spread his legs wider apart to allow my head to go higher up.
I let my tongue slip under his balls and stroked them with my dripping tongue, back and forth. His hair and soft skin felt delicious against my tongue and the juice began to flood my cunt.
I worked my way up closer to his prick. I wrapped my tongue around his cock at the root. Then, very gradually I moved towards the tip of his cock head. The pink cock was red in its excitement. The juice met with my saliva. I rotated my tongue around his cock head and he pressed the back of my head down further over it with his rough hands.
I decided to stop there. I pulled away from him and sat up.
"Why've you stopped?" he yelled.
"Because, officer, this is something that has to be done together and to each other. Then, it is really beautiful," I told him.
I got out of the car and walked around it, to the other side. The juice from my cunt ran down my thighs as I ran to the other door of the car. These things had to be done carefully. If I had struggled over him in the narrow back seat of the car, I might have turned him off and ruined the whole scene.
I opened the car door. He looked up at me. I took his head into my hands. I kissed him softly. I pushed his lips apart with mine and thrust my tongue into his mouth. His saliva poured out to meet mine and our tongues wrestled with each other's. I pumped with my mouth and the suction he felt on his tongue excited him terribly. He tried to say something but was muffled by my mouth. I moved up a little bit and let one of my tits dangle over his mouth. He took the nipple and rotated his tongue on its tip. I reached out and played with his tremendous prick.
I could not control myself any longer. I moved up higher. My pussy was over his face. I expected that I would have to tell him what to do, but he did not wait for anything.
His lips pushed my cunt lips apart. The tip of his tongue tickled my clit. He touched it lightly and then pulled away for a millionth of a second. He touched it again and would pull away again. He did this all the time. Each time he pulled away and came back to my clit again, I practically passed out with pleasure. I spread my thighs as wide apart as they would go. My clit was stiff and I pressed it hard against his tongue each time he brought it near me. I thought my clit would burst in his face, it felt so fantastic.
He started lapping up my whole cunt. His tongue started at the lower part of my cunt and he moved upwards, licking it through all the way. He stopped at my clit and tickled it a bit back and forth and then would go back to the lower part of my clit.
All my cunt juices flowed into his mouth, I'm sure. He gulped them down and licked me harder and harder. Then, he thrust his tongue right inside my cunt and pushed it in and out. It felt like a cock, only better, because he directed it more carefully than you could ever manipulate a cock.
I put my lips to his cock head and sucked him slowly. My mouth held his cock in my mouth. It was huge. I began to suck a little harder each time and he sucked my cunt as deep as his tongue would carry him.
I pressed my cunt deeper into his mouth and he pushed his cock up against my face. It was delicious. We rocked back and forth against each other and I knew I was making him feel things he had never even thought existed.
The car seat squeaked as we worked on it and a beautiful breeze floated in from the car windows. There was a sensation of purity as we cock and cunt sucked in the patrolman's car.
His cock juice crowded my mouth and ran down my chin. He pulled his knees into the car seat and pressed my cunt harder into his tongue as I neared mine.
The orgasm came like a thunder roll. Both of us vibrated violently and lay there trembling as it passed. I slid off him and slipped out of the car door. My ass landed on the grass outside. I walked over to the other side of the car and began to pick up my clothes.
As I was doing that, I heard the officer's car radio beeping. He struggled over to the front seat and I heard him talking back into his mike. I tried to eavesdrop and find out what he was saying but I could not catch his words.
He put the mike back in its place and switched the radio off. He got out of the car and pulled his trousers on. He smiled at me and said, "That was really terrific, kid!"
I still hadn't put my clothes on and he looked at me up and down. "Don't get dressed yet, kid, let's take a little walk," he suggested.
I loved the breeze on my skin and jumped at his idea.
He took my hand in his and we walked across the grass towards the shrubbery and trees on the side of the road. He took large steps and he was almost dragging me into the woods. He grinned down at me often as we walked along. The lower branches of the trees brushed against my ass and tits as we passed them. It was a terrific sensation.
We came, to a slight clearing. It was almost as if the trees had deliberately been cut down to form a circle for some purpose. The purpose seemed clear to my officer. He put his arms around me and drew my naked body close to him.
My nipples hardened against his policeman's uniform.
"How about some of the old fashioned straight stuff," he asked me.
I could feel his prick harden. My body was quick to respond. I pressed against him. His hands reached for my cunt and he pulled my cunt lip apart. He pinched at my clit, which made me want to die rather than miss a fuck, at this point.
"How do you like that?" he wanted to check me out.
"It's terrific," I assured him, "Just don't stop!"
He continued to pinch my clit and I opened up his fly and pulled out his stiff cock. I played with it and he groaned with delight.
"Let's do it, for fuck's sake, let's do it," he yelled.
We collapsed on the grass in the clearing in the woods. He threw off his pants, shoes, socks, jacket, hat, everything. His uniform was all over the place. He tugged at my thighs and spread them apart.
I felt his cock surge into me. My cunt responded by juicing out all it could and then held his cock tight. He fucked hard, this officer. Each push he gave me, I thought I would go right through the grass. He was tough and when he said, "Let's do it," I guess, he really meant every word of it.
There were clouds drifting over us and once a plane flew over. But, nothing bothered this officer except this great fuck he had decided to give me. He heaved and pushed and I decided that I couldn't remember the time when I had been fucked so thoroughly. He seemed to go right through me.
"Push harder, push harder!" he shouted at me.
"You push harder," I told him right back, just to be defiant.
When he heard those words, it was like a demon possessed him. He went insane. He started to fuck me like he was actually beating me up. He heaved so hard that he practically stood up each time he pulled his cock towards himself.
When he pushed towards my cunt, it was like he was diving from a hundred feet above me. He came crashing into my cunt like a raging bull. Each time it was like he was boxing me with his fist inside my pussy. I am sure I began to bleed then and the sight of the blood seemed to give him great satisfaction.
He continued to bang me up for about fifteen minutes until I could stand it no longer. I begged him to stop. But, he didn't seem to hear me. He carried on regardless.
His orgasm came soon after and I felt that I had been hit by a million sledge hammers in my pussy. I wanted to die, it hurt so much.
He jumped up from my worn out body quickly and threw on his clothes. He got dressed faster than anyone I have ever seen. He grabbed my hand and dragged me through the woods again towards his patrol car.
To my amazement, when we reached there, there was more than the one patrol car we had left. There were three other patrol cars. Each one was loaded with officers.
I was naked. I tried to stand behind the officer who had just fucked me. But, he kept pushing me in front of him. He had the most despicable grin on his face. He was calling out to his colleagues and they began to get out of their cars.
So that's what he told them on the car radio! I wanted to kill him! The son of a bitch with all the sugary talk he gave me. I wanted to kill him! I tried to reach up to his face and scratch him but he belted me on my neck. I doubled up with pain. How did I get stuck in this disgusting mess?
Some of the officers ran towards me. I began to struggle with the large hand holding my wrist. I had to get away before those beasts went at me! He struck out at me again, this time on my stomach and it hurt even more. I cried out and pleaded with him to let me go. All I got in answer to my pleas was the same fixed grin.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll take it quietly and cooperate," one of his buddies said to me, as he ran his fingers along my tits.
"You might as well accept what is going to happen. Come on, baby, let's have some action," another shouted, as he ran towards me.
One of them began to rub my ass and I tried to kick him. I felt a strong blow on my back, in answer to my kick. I was petrified. There seemed to be no way out of this situation. I had no wish at all to be raped by the whole fucking police force.
"Let's take her to the station and go at her comfortably," the officer who was holding me suggested.
There were shouts of "Yeah, yeah!" and a couple of groans. I was soon pushed into one of the cars, with my clothes on my lap. They drove me to the station.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The bastards had the decency to wrap a mangy blanket around me as they shoved me from the car to the station house. I guess they didn't want the locals to see me all fucked up. One big fucker kept goosing me as they pushed me through the door. I felt like socking him. but they had already given me a sample of what they'd do, so I kept my mouth shut.
Inside, they all went to a door off the main entrance, grinning like hyenas, pulling off their jackets, tugging on their pants. I wanted to run, but where the hell was I going to? And more of them came in the door, laughing and joking, getting ready to join in the gang haul I knew was coming. I could feel a pain growing in my guts.
In the little back room where they shoved me, they put a mat on the floor. What the fuck are we going to do, wrestle, I wondered. And I asked the bull.
"Yeah, you might call it that," the prick answered.
"You'll lose in a hurry, fatso," I barked at him.
He got hot under the collar and shoved me. Another one spun me out of the blanket, and there I was, standing in front of thirty horny cops, all with their dicks beating in their pants.
I should have been in a state of panic right then and there, but I was thinking about Dave, wondering where the hell he had gone. What the hell he was doing while I was getting ready to fuck the whole police force. For a quick minute, I closed my eyes and felt good about something. Dave. Dammit, how I wished I could be screwing him, loving him in my arms, getting him off the way I knew I could. Instead, I was backed in a corner, thinking of a -way to survive the fucking I was about to get.
I got tired of the teasing and taunting, so I went at one of the cops. I grabbed the front of his pants and snatched at his prick. "Let's get it on, dammit," I spat, "there's no point in fucking around."
"Hey listen to that," one of them said, "here's a real hellcat."
A hand ran into the crack of my ass. Another grabbed at my tits. I just relaxed, letting them take their cheap thrills as they wanted. When one of them suggested to put me on the mat, I just fell down and spread my legs.
I was glad they had worked themselves up so much. It made it a lot easier for me to handle the first half dozen or so. Four or five strokes and the sons of bitches shot their load, burped and got up. It was going faster than a two dollar trick on a Halloween night.
They made jokes about me as they took their turns, trying to make me scream, betting which one could, who would last the longest. It suddenly dawned on me that these fucking creeps were the reason I hated men so much. The way they took my body and screwed it around.
What I would have given to be riding some chick right now. No pain, no bruises. Nothing but good old comfort. A little grinding, a little eating and everything nice. Then a bastard sat on my face. He laughed like hell, thought he was really funny, hanging his balls over my nose. I should have bit the baggy things, but I didn't like the way they looked. I turned my head and cursed him like a sailor. My words just made him laugh that much harder. They were getting their jollies from my angry words.
I must have taken on about twenty or twenty five before they gave me a breather. They sat around on the chairs and benches wiping their wrinkled old dicks with snotty rags. I thought I would puke when one of them came toward me waving his scum tainted hanky.
"Put that on me and I'll cut your balls off," I screamed. "Why don't you go beat off in a corner?"
The fat cop grabbed his belly and laughed. He backed away, fell into a chair, still laughing, then told his buddies to go get me.
The time out was just long enough to let me feel the pain building in my body. I ached from head to foot, felt like I had been stomped. My stomach knotted up, my head ached, my thighs were bruised and painful, and my ass, from being bounced on the floor, even on that stinking mat, was still throbbing.
I tried to sit up to see if they had drawn any more blood, but just as I tried, one of the cops pushed me back down and straddled me. There was nothing I could or would do. He huffed and puffed until he blew his load. I helped him get up. I gave him a push that nearly made him fall over.
"She's got plenty of life in her, that bitch does," one of them on the sidelines said. "We may be able to go another round with her before we let her go."
One of the bastards, one who had already had his turn, had the nerve to say, "I don't want none of that stinky cunt. It might rot my dick off!"
I screamed at the nervy bastard. "You wish you could get a piece this good, you dickless motherfucker."
He took his time getting up from the bench where he was sitting. He took slow, even steps across the room to the mat. There was this one prick between my leg and this other one standing over.
"Dickless motherfucker, eh?" he frowned.
Then I felt the sharp pain of his foot crashing into my ribs. I wrenched and twisted and cursed. But the one between my legs held me down, getting his nuts off as I fought with the pain that raced like hot lead through me.
I wished then I wasn't as strong as I was. I wished I could faint. Maybe if I could faint, they'd let me go. But try as I did, the most I could do was swallow the pain and let that drippy dick slide out.
"Who's next?" the one who had finished asked as he struggled to his feet.
"Yeah, who's next?" I asked, echoing mockingly the one who asked his buddies.
And another took his place, filling my aching crotch with still another little dick that I had no choice about. I pursed my lips, thought about spitting on him, remembered the pain in my sides and swallowed instead.
The laughter gave way to anxious heart pounding. I could hear their chests pounding as they circled around me. The heat in that little back room was getting higher and higher. All of a sudden, I felt them grabbing my arms and legs. I was being hoisted off the floor. I jerked my head around to see what they had planned, hoping they didn't have any more elaborate fucking plans to spring on me.
They took me to the far corner of the room and held me up in the air. When one came through another door, from the side of the room, with a bucket in his hand, I thought it was all over.
"Got a good grip on her?" the bucket bearer asked.
"Tighter than her mammy held her," one smart aleck answered.
The guy with the pail raised it, yelling to them to hold me steady. The pail was filled with water. I saw his eyes shine brightly as he prepared to throw the water at me.
"Be careful," one of the guys holding me called to him.
"Here she blows," the bucket wielder shouted, and in a second, my crotch and belly were awash in warm water. The breath shot out of me. It felt good, the water, but the fucking shock of it made me madder than a hatter.
"You rotten cocksucker!" I screamed. "You rotten no good son of a bitch!"
Oh how they laughed. It made them feel good to see me squirming in mid-air. My curses made them giggle with glee. All the hate in the world raced through me, knowing that, for the moment, I was helpless, that I could do nothing, not even if they let me, there was no way to get back at them unless I wanted to break the law. But I wasn't going to do that. That would be playing right into their hands, the rotten no good cads.
I felt the water trickle down from my belly, into the withered lips of my over-screwed pussy and down over my ass cheeks to the floor. It cooled me off, but that was all. My well worked body was cooled a little but the heat of anger was not slaked.
My fury had me cursing for all I was worth. I even made up words that hadn't been used before. But they took it all in, repeated my words with a lilt in their voices. They were getting hot just listening to me curse them.
"Got any more of them goodies, little girl?" they hollered.
"I got a foot to put up your ass," I told them.
That really got them upset. One of them came across the room to where the four had me hanging in midair. He stood there with his hands on his hips, grinning, the spaces between his teeth wide enough to drive a car through.
I curled up some phlegm from deep in my throat. A real lunger. When he heard it rumbling, he winced and ducked, but I didn't let it fly out at him. I held it. He stood up, his face wrinkled with anger.
To really shake him up, I grinned at him. I laughed in his face.
"Somebody get me a stick," he said, his eyes narrowed to tiny mad slits. "I'm gonna show this bitch a thing or two."
I got myself ready. I figured, what the hell, they did everything else to me and I was still kicking. A little beating couldn't do much more to me. It might even help me fall out. That would do just fine. I'd close my eyes and forget they were there.
He brought the stick down on my thigh first. I tensed under the sting of the blow, but was still able to smile at him. The pain sank into my flesh and disappeared.
Then he smacked the other thigh. Harder than he had hit me the first time. Still I managed to laugh at him, and that must have really hurt him. He raised the stick way over his head and slammed it down on my shoulder.
It hurt so bad I thought he had broken it, but he was readying for another blow, so I grit my teeth in a sneer and let him hit away.
The dull thud of the nightstick to my shoulder was about all I was ready to take. I .jerked and kicked so suddenly, the two holding my feet let go. I was standing on my own, but still was held by the two on my arms.
I struggled, but it was no use. They held me tight as vises.
"What the fuck do you want from me?" I screamed, "Now tell me!" They grinned and I ached. But the pain was not going to get me down. I still had enough in me to laugh in their faces. The more they hit, the stronger I got.
"Go ahead, get your fucking cookies, buster," I yelled. "If that's what makes you feel good."
They hauled me back to the mat then, and threw me down once more. One of them was just getting over me when the door opened.
They were closing in around me, so I didn't get to see if it was another one come to join in I the gang bang, or somebody who might bring the thing to a halt. For a hot minute, I thought the face was Dave's.
I craned my neck to get another look. All I could see were a pair of feet. Then I felt the rough thrust of the dick in me and turned to curse the cop to whom it belonged. He grabbed me by the head and tried to hold me steady under him.
I figured if I cursed enough, he'd get his nuts off and I'd be able to take another look at the figure in the door. I was still not certain it wasn't Dave.
With more zest than ever before, I rocked the cop who was fucking me, making him grimace with excitement. I felt him stiffen and go dead. He was done for. I wrenched my head from his hands to take a look, but the figure I thought was Dave was walking away with one of the cops. I closed my eyes, almost on the verge of tears.
Another one fell between my legs. "Put it to her," one of the others yelled.
"Atta boy, give it to her," another added.
"One shot for me, too, kid," shouted still another and the voices began to bounce off the stone walls.
"Oh, look at that face," one of them cried out happily when I could no longer hide the pain.
I screamed. I screamed blue murder.
A husky voice yelled to me to be quiet. He asked me if I'd rather spend a jail term for turning tricks or let the boys have their way with me. Shit, they had had their way already, I was thinking. But I cursed him, whoever it was, at the top of my voice. When I tried to scream again though a hand covered my mouth.
I decided to work the tactic of forcing their pleasure to a quick end. I whispered and moaned in the ear of the cop who was taking his turn, and his time, getting his rocks off. But the teasing words I spoke to him made him blow his gut in a hurry, and another took his place.
When that one got started, I locked my legs around him. He thought he was hot shit then. He started humping and screwing like he was really making it good. I told him all sorts of things. Scratched his back for him. Whispered to him, "Oh, baby, get it. Do it, do it."
He ate it up. He shot so fast he might have won a medal if they had quickie contests. Then came the next. And I went through the same motions. And he was done in a minute. I turned my head away from the cop to look toward the door. I still was thinking that Dave had been the man who had come in.
From the outer area, by the desk, I saw two pair of feet coming back toward the room. I whispered more and dirtier things in the cop's ear to make him come. I felt his nuts tighten. He grabbed me tight. He got stiffer, then died. I twisted quickly, before the next one could start, to try to glimpse the man who was with the cop.
It was Dave. It was him. He was walking toward the room with the cop. Another one was shoving his stiff dick in me, but I was hardly aware of him. I started cursing softly in his ear, "Fuck me, you bastard, fuck me hard and good. Fuck me like you were fucking your old lady, screw way down deep, you son of a bitch, fuck me, fuck me!"
He jumped and jumped and jumped and shot his load. I let my body relax for a half second. I caught a glimpse of Dave's eyes. He was staring at me. He seemed to be hurt by what he saw.
I took the next cop and began to fuck him like a mad woman. I threw my hips at him so fast he nearly slipped out. I said all kinds of things to him, begged and pleaded and cooed, trying to make him come quickly.
I heard Dave tell the cop he had come to take me away. My heart raced, fast and furious. I fucked harder. I heard him say, "I wanna take her outta here."
The cop answered him, "What are you, a pimp?"
Dave told him no and the cop told him, if he wasn't then he ought to forget about me.
"You're better off not fooling with her," the cop said. "Forget it. We'll let her go and she'll be right back out on the streets turning cheap tricks. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."
I worked even faster, making them come in three or four strokes. The dirtier I talked, the more they liked it, the faster they came. I was turning them over in a hurry.
One big fucker got down over me.
He held his dick in his hand. My eyes were searching desperately for Dave, wanting to cry to him to let him know how glad I was that he had come for me. Then I felt a sharp pain as the cop rammed his dick in me at an acute angle, scraping at the wall of my cunt. Before I could fight back the pain, I screamed aloud.
Dave must have said something to the cop. I heard the cop say to the others to "cool it." Then he said, "I don't know how, but they always manage to find some sucker who thinks they're worth saving. Let the guy take her. It's his worry. If any of you missed your turn, don't sweat it, she'll be back."
The last dick was withering inside me. I felt it go small and slip out. I lay motionless until the cop got to his feet. Dave walked into the room. My eyes caught his feet and followed his movements, all the way up to his eyes.
A cop reached down to help me up, but I had had enough of them. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself," I told him, "I don't need your fucking help."
He shrugged and walked away. I was a little hasty when I tried to roll onto my side to get up, I could hardly move. They had nearly screwed me into the floor.
They all started to the door, grumbling and laughing at me. Dave stood there, waiting till they were all out of the room. Then he grabbed my clothes, pulled me to my feet and turned his face to the wall.
I had an urge to ask if he was suddenly bashful, but didn't bother. I got dressed as fast as possible.
"Poor sap," the last cop through the door exclaimed.
I shot him a dirty look and he pulled the door behind him. Suddenly, all the pain, all the confusion caved me in. I stood there sobbing. Through the fog of my tears, I pulled up my mesh stockings, hooked them onto the garter belt and made my way to Dave, reaching for his arm and his strength.
I felt him inhale deeply. He grabbed me and headed for the door. He reached for the knob and hesitated. For a long time he stood there, facing the door, standing very still. With the room so quiet, after all the noise and bustle, the silence became great enough for me to hear his breathing.
He grabbed the knob, gave it a quick twist and pushed me out in front of him, moving fast, pushing me toward the door as if he wanted to fly through the waiting room.
Once we got outside, he slowed down. Still, though, he pushed me across the street toward his car. Without saying anything he opened the door and went around to the other side.
When he got in, I turned to him, wiping the tears from my lips with my tongue, and said, "I'd like to kill one of those bastards."
He started the car and stared at me. "Do you hurt?" he asked.
"Do I hurt?" I nearly screamed, and choked back the new tears about to fall. "It feels like I've been raked by a porcupine."
I closed my eyes, sank into the seat and spread my legs apart. It felt like my pussy was on fire. I burned like an oven. "You know what?" I said to Dave. "I could melt an ice cube between my legs and never feel a chill."
I thought he would laugh, but Dave just swung the car out and started driving. I didn't even know where we were going. His stuffiness made me afraid to ask.
When I saw we were headed for the freeway, I turned to him and said, "You know what else. If I wasn't so all done in, I'd like to wrap my legs around you and give you a good screwing, like I had in mind before we were so rudely interrupted."
"Thanks for the consideration," he answered me flatly.
I fell into a silence then. At one point I could feel him snatch a quick look at my thighs, but he didn't have anything to say. He kept his eyes glued to the road. Then I broke into a laugh.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I was just thinking," I told him.
"About what?" he asked.
"About me and Steffie and Alma," I answered. "About what a crazy scene it was. Everybody screwing each other."
I could see his jaw set firmly. I was turning away, sure I had said the wrong thing. I saw his hands tighten on the wheel. Finally, he commented, "That shit is over. Forget about it."
"I didn't say anything," I told him, "I was thinking of what a thing it was."
I slid close to him and rubbed his leg. He moved away too quickly.
"Don't get upset," I told him.
He turned a corner and we were in front of Alma's house. He stopped the car and, not making any motion to get out, turned to me, lifting his leg onto the seat. I twisted and turned toward him, too.
"I'm still hungry for you, you bastard," I said to him, teasing him, trying to get him excited. "And it bothers me a lot, you bastard."
He cleared his throat. I moved a little closer and he moved up against the door. "Don't get scared," I laughed. "Just 'cause I got the hots for you doesn't mean I'm going to jump all over you."
I wanted to do something warm, but, since he seemed so distant, I continued fresh and rough, adding, "But I'd like to, though. Just five fucking minutes to make that prick of yours bust open."
I could tell he was getting a hard-on. I could see him trying to hide it with his eyes. His arm slipped over the back of the seat and he opened his leg so he wouldn't pinch his balls together.
"I'll bet you're getting a hard-on," I teased. "I'll bet if I grabbed your prick it would be as hard as a rock."
I got at least a small smile out of him, but still he wasn't coming near. I decided to really pour it on. I put my feet up on the seat and spread my legs right in front of his eyes. For support, I leaned against the door.
"I want you to take it," I whispered in my nastiest voice. "Come on and take it. You can do anything you want to do with it. Just take it."
Dave looked into the darkness between my legs. I could tell that the bikini underwear I wore were stuck in the crack of my pussy and I imagined that would really turn him on. He was staring a long time down there. Then my skin started to crawl when I saw the frown building on his face.
"Uh uh," he said. "Seconds, maybe. Fiftieth, never."
I tried to laugh at what he said, but couldn't, not really. It hurt too bad. He turned, opened his door and got out. Quickly, I did the same.
I called out, "It wasn't my fault, they forced me. I was coming on to them like that in the station so they'd stop."
He stopped at the entrance to the building, shrugged and told me, "I could give a shit. I ain't sticking my dick in there where the come is all matted like balls of snot. Pull your skirt up and take a look."
Silly me. I did just that. I lifted my skirt right there and looked. He was right. It was a disgusting sight. The come they had dripped all over my crotch was sticking to my hair and drying in little lumps. To ease things off a little, I forced myself to laugh. "Yeah, pretty disgusting, isn't it?"
Dave didn't like my joke. He pushed the door open and headed for Alma's apartment. I ran to catch up with him.
"What about after I get all cleaned up?" I asked, swinging on his arm as he pushed Alma's bell. He gave me a shrug.
Alma opened the door, looked at us both, and started to shut the door in my face.
"Oh, that's very nice, Alma," I said, holding it open with my arm. "Gonna slam the door in my face."
Alma turned away and Dave walked in behind her. I followed them both and started directly to the bathroom. I took time to ask Alma about taking a bath, just to be bitchy. I didn't really care what she said. "Do you mind if I clean up a bit?"
"You can wash for six months and you wouldn't get clean," the bitch said.
Ignoring her, I went to the bathroom, got into the tub and bathed as quickly as possible. Even after all those cops, I wanted Dave. I wanted him bad enough to risk having him rip me open with that mammoth prick of his.
When I came out of the bath, they were sitting, having coffee. I walked to Dave, naked as a baby, and sat on his lap.
"All better now," I whispered to him.
Alma, from her chair, muttered something under her breath. When I turned to her, she repeated it out loud, "You fucking shitty tramp."
That was just fine. I jumped up and did a dance around her. I clapped my hands in front of her face and taunted her with jabs of my finger.
"Alma, honey, this is Toby," I teased. "And I'm going to give Dave a good fuck right here in front of you."
I turned to get Dave's reaction, but he paid no attention to me. Again, Alma muttered, "Dirty little tramp."
I got upset then. Dave ignoring me and Alma calling me a tramp. I turned to her, grabbed the lips of my cunt and spread them right under her nose. All the bitchiness was coming out.
"Oh, Alma, honey, this is sweet Toby," I taunted. "Don't you remember sweet Toby who used to make you feel so good every night? See this pussy of mine? Doesn't it bring back plenty of good memories for you?"
It might have been a little much, but I was really ready to wreck her fucking mind. Dave sat there, not even looking at me. She sat there coming on like she never wanted me the way-she did. I stepped on her feet and shoved my pussy in her face. I held her by the back of her head and hauled her face into my cunt.
The old bitch grabbed my ass and pinched. She pinched so hard, I had to let her go. As I backed away to rub my ass, she got up and came at me, warning me that she was going to cut my slit another three inches longer, "right up your ass."
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Dave, moving on the chair, as if to get up. I turned to him. Quick as a flash, Alma grabbed a handful of my crotch, reaching between my legs from behind and nearly lifting me off the floor.
Before I knew what was happening, Alma and I were wrestling on the floor like old times. She rammed her hand into my pussy and I grabbed a handful of hers.
We started laughing and giggling and carrying on, really getting loose. We got into it so much, I didn't even notice Dave get up and walk out of the room.
"If I get my dildo in you," Alma was laughing, "I'll ram it right up to your skull."
"But I got you right now," I laughed back, "and I'm gonna drive my fist right up to your guts."
Then we really got it on. Alma was getting her hots up in a hurry. I could feel her getting really worked up over the few fingers I whirled around in her cunt. Her breath was getting heavy. She closed her eyes and stopped laughing.
"It's really getting good to you, isn't it, you old bitch," I teased, and worked the fingers a little faster.
"You no good bitch," she whispered. "I hate you. I hate you."
I laughed at her and corkscrewed my fingers just a little more. "Oh, you hate me, do you?" I teased.
When I started to take my finger out, she changed her tune in a hurry. She grabbed my hands and pulled them back to her body. "I didn't mean it," she moaned. "I didn't meant it. You're so fucking good you're making me crazy."
After I made her get her rocks off, Alma wanted to get her dildo. She wanted to ride me for a while, but I told her, "The only dick that's going in my pussy is a man's, Dave's."
And I got up from the floor. I looked around for Dave, ready to get into the bed with him and fuck for a week if need be. But he wasn't there.
I ran to the bedroom, but no Dave. I walked back to the living room, calling his name softly, as sweetly as I knew how. He didn't answer.
"Alma, where the fuck could Dave be?" But it was pointless to ask her. She lay there, her eyes closed, her body heaving, coming down from the nut I gave her.
I called Dave's name louder. Still, no answer. I thought for a while he was playing a game with me. I ran around the place peeking into closets and any place else he might hide. But he wasn't there.
I grabbed a dress, thought for a moment where I might look for him, then ran from the apartment I clomped down the stairs, raced out into the street, but the car was gone too.
I looked up at the facade of the building, towards Alma's apartment. I guessed I would have to go back up to her, or put to find a new chick. Without Dave, I didn't think I was ready for another man. "Fuck it," I decided. "I'll go back up to Alma's and think of something."
Alma took her time opening the door when I went back up. I must have really knocked her out with that romp on the floor. I had to stand there for a long fucking time. When she did open the door, she looked at me with the most evil grin.
"Did you find him?" she gloated.
I pushed her aside and walked in, fell into a chair and closed my eyes, trying to come up with something, and it had to be in a hurry. I didn't want to waste too much time with Alma because I figured she'd always be thinking about how I dumped her for Steffie, and then the bit with Dave.
"What you thinking about?" she asked.
"Not you," I spat out before I realized what I was saying.
Alma got hot right away. She stormed across the room at me, and grabbed me by the neck throttling me. I pushed her away easily enough, but she wasn't through yet.
"You cruddy little cunt," she scowled. "You got a hell of a lot of nerve. Dumping me for Steffie wasn't enough for you. You had to go and screw Dave, too. Now you're getting nasty with me in my own fucking place. Well, you know what that'll get you, don't you? Get out you tramp! Get the fuck out of here!"
I ignored her. She was ranting and raving and I was busy thinking. I couldn't tell her how much I wanted to get out, but I was no fool, either. I had to have a place to plan. I had to play for time.
I got up from the chair and strode toward her. I rolled my eyes the way I did at the Johns on the street. That always got her. She really liked that kind of stuff. Even as I walked across the room, I could feel her getting weaker.
"Where's that dildo of yours?" I asked. "I feel in the mood for a good fuck."
That was it. Alma wilted. She came to me with her arms wide open. She was just as kind and sweet as she had ever been.
"Who gets it first?" she asked, pressing her mouth to mine. "Me or you?"
I put my arms around her, still thinking of where I'd be next. Maybe cover some of the old haunts and pick up some hot-panted little number. Maybe pick up a John and milk him for enough to get a quickie pad.
Alma's tongue searched around in my mouth and I gave it back to her. That's the nicest part about working the streets, you learn to give without feeling.
"You first," I told her, "I'm going to give you the best fuck you ever had."
Alma let me go and ran into her room. I could hear her anxiously banging through her drawer, looking for her dildo. It must have been real hell for her, having me in the rack with Steffie and her getting none. Then my scene with Dave. I suppose that was why she tried to be mad at me.
While she was getting the dildo, I thought about Dave. The bastard had split on me. Then something came to mind. I could work up a few bucks, go find Steffie and she'd know where her old man was.
Alma waltzed out of her room, dangling her dildo in her fingers. She seemed to be really happy. For a second, I got that old bitchy feeling. I stood there all lean and tough, legs propped apart, hands on hips, knees locked, waiting for her, promising her the biggest fuck she had ever had. Then Dave flashed through my mind.
Alma started undoing the robe she had wrapped around herself. I watched as her tits fell out, then, when the robe hit the floor, the hairy pussy and the thick thighs. I knew she had been a bitch in her day. If I didn't have Dave on my mind, I would have really screwed her brains out with that dildo.
"You're something else, Alma," I told her. "I mean, the years haven't done shit to you. Look at that body of yours. Just look at it. I could eat that flesh for a week without getting tired."
My words excited her. She placed one hand on a tit, rubbed it, and ran the dildo between her legs, enticingly. When she did that, I started to feel the heat boiling in my cunt. It was enough to make me hate that son of a bitch, Dave. Him and his fucking cock. Why had I even given thought to screwing a man?
"Come on baby," Alma began to tease. "I'm getting hot all over."
Now what the fuck was I supposed to do? I could screw Alma and let the rest of the day go by, or I could forget how damned hot I was getting watching her run that dildo in and out of her cunt. I could go and turn a few tricks, make a little bread.
Alma was burning hot. I was pressed. I had to decide quickly. My own pussy began to quiver with the thought of getting that dildo rolled around in it for a while. That bastard Dave. If he had just given me a few damned minutes.
"Let's do it, baby," Alma called, now easing herself down onto the couch.
When she threw that old, finely shaped leg of hers up in the air, opened that hot wet cunt of hers, I couldn't take it anymore. I ran across the room, took the dildo, and rammed it up under my dress a few times, removed it, and fastened on the imitation dick, nearly diving between her legs.
The first plunge made her suck in her breath. Her fingers locked into my arms like fucking cat claws. I socked it in a few times and she got ready to come before I could even get her to bite my tits a little.
"Don't you dare come so fast," I screamed at her. "Not yet, you bitch. Bite me, bite me."
Alma was nearly fucking delirious with rapture. I kept humping her with that dildo, and finally got my tit in her mouth. Oh, when she bit it, I felt a thrill race through me that I had never experienced before.
"Oh, shit, you bitch, that's good," I heard myself screaming. "Bite harder, damnit, bite harder."
With her own body shaking from top to bottom, Alma could hardly open her mouth to take my tit into it. But her shaking, and the white heat running through my veins was enough to get me off.
I hadn't even had the touch of the dildo in me, yet, but the fucking excitement was racing through me so fucking fast I was coming like a geyser. The come was steaming out of me.
Alma's hips went flat. She stopped humping up under me. And I sank down on top of her. I was nearly fucking knocked out. Shit, I thought, that's no good, I gotta have more energy than that. I got a bunch of tricks to turn if I'm gonna catch that bastard Dave. I can't be dead yet.
Alma luxuriating in her warm sweat and sticky come, put her arms around me, started kissing me all over my face. She squeezed my ass, rubbed me all over the back. I was thinking about the best spot to hit a few early Johns. I wanted that fucking bread in a hurry. I was wondering if that fucking Dave had gotten on a plane and really split.
While Alma still moaned, I rolled myself off her and took the dildo loose. I don't know what made me do it, but I ran my hands over her thigh a little, just enough to tease them open, then I shoved the dildo in. Alma sucked in enough air to blow up a balloon. I cranked the rubber dick around a few times and she started to get all shook up again. Then I gave her a slap on the leg and raced to her room to find another dress to put on.
"What, what the hell are you doing? Where are you going?" she called after me.
"Gotta raise some bread," I called back to her.
"What do you mean?" she called back. "You can stay here."
"Gotta find that cocksucking Dave," I told her. "I ain't letting him get away from me."
When I came back into the living room, Alma was sitting up on the couch, the dildo still stuck between her legs. She sat kind of funny, arms hanging down, legs sorta limp. I stared at her.
"I'll take care of you honey," she told me, nearly about to cry. "You don't need him. He only came to get Steffie. He doesn't care about you."
I coulda kicked her in the teeth for that comment, but instead, I headed for the door. I was thinking of the best place to find the tricks I'd have to turn to to get the bread up to find Dave. Even then, though, I was asking myself what the hell he had that made me want to give in to him, a fucking man, when I could do the world with a dildo around my waist?
"I'll be back later," I told Alma as I stepped out the door. "If Dave shows his face back here, lock him in."
"I hope you don't find him," she screamed at me. "I hope he got a fucking airplane and got the hell away from here. You can't dump me twice."
Out on the street, after slamming the door and running down the stairs, I was glad to see the day about to end. In the shadows is where the Johns hid, and there were far more shadows when the sun went down. I decided to get to the streets before the crowd. Catch me those tricks, and find out if Dave had gotten on a plane.
And sure as shit, the Johns were out there. I wasn't more than a few minutes away from Alma's before I caught my first number.
We went to a hotel and got started.
The John started clawing and biting me!
"What, you get your kicks outta wrecking tricks?" I asked him, begging him to do it if he could.
He didn't say a word. Just went right on doing it. I wrapped my legs nearly on his shoulders, and that was the biggest mistake I made. With my hole turned up to him like that, he was soon hitting me in the weirdest places. The come bubbled up in me, broke out and streamed down.
"You son of a bitch," I moaned when it was all over. "You son of a bitch."
He got up, went to the sink and washed and went out without saying another fucking word. I got up as fast as I could, ran to the door, only to see him disappear out into the street. I turned back to get myself dressed, and a final hot spurt of come ran down onto my leg.
When I got back to Alma's, she was not there. The lights were out, the door was locked. I took out the money I had made, counted it, folded it back into my bra and went back to one of the quickie joints to really clean myself.
I grabbed a cab after that, went out to the airport and thought about where I was going. Would Dave let me in if I went out to where he and Steffie lived?
What the hell, I decided, any town in the country has its Johns. I bought a ticket to another city and got on the plane. What the hell. A good screw can always get a turn.
