Christine Gray smiled as she got out of the tub. Taking a bath towel from the rack, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, smiling appreciatively at what she saw. She liked the looks of her body that was kept trim and firm by her six years of competitive figure skating.
The appearance of her body pleased her. Her golden-blonde hair, wet and hanging down the sides of her face, framed her beautiful face. Her deep blue eyes sparkled in the dim light. Her lips were full and soft. She was thankful that she had her mother's demure nose, thin-lined eyebrows and seductive-looking eyelashes.
Her eyes dropped down to her breasts. They stood out, straight and firm, the nipples pink and erect, beckoning to be fondled and kissed. Her stomach was a flat smoothness of silky skin. The smoothness was interrupted by the slight venus mound that was covered by a soft, triangular patch of golden down.
She began to dry herself, hard and vigorously. Her body tingled, feeling the soft towel rub her breasts and vaginal valley. She felt relaxed and content as she put on her short terry cloth robe and went into her bedroom. The bed creaked as she plopped herself down on her stomach. She took a deep breath and stretched out as far as she could, her legs spread-eagled, letting the cool air waft into her parted cunt-lips. She lay there, face down on the pillow. She began to hum softly. It was her way of expressing her happiness, and also to let Dan know that she was ready and waiting.
She knew he had gotten the message when she heard him enter the room. Dan Connors was her step-father, trainer, task-master and pillar of strength.
"Is my baby feeling better?" he asked softly. "Uh-huh," she cooed, turning her face to one side.
He brushed the hair from her eyes and asked, "How would you like to go to Hawaii after the competition?"
"I'd love it," she answered happily.
"Good. I'll make reservations for the earliest possible flight." He got up and started for the door.
"Daddy," she called out softly, stopping him in his tracks.
"What is it baby?"
"Rub my back first."
"Sure, honey," he smiled, walking over and sitting down on the bed.
She put her arms to her sides as he began to massage her shoulder muscles. She sighed. She closed her eyes as he pulled the neck of the robe from her shoulders and worked on the bare muscles of her upper arms and neck. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and dangled the robe off the side of the bed. His hands manipulated her bare flesh, soothing her sore muscles. She felt like she was suspended in air, being buoyed by fleecy white clouds.
He worked down, inch by inch to the small of her back, then to her resilient buttocks, where he used the heel of his palms to gently pound the firm flesh. Small gasps of pleasure escaped from her pursed lips. He left her beautiful buttocks reluctantly and massaged her thighs, calves and feet. He slapped her gently on the soles of her feet to indicate that he had finished massaging her backside. She moaned with the effort of having to turn over.
He massaged the soft crease in her shoulder blade, each of his fingers sending tingles racing through her body. His hands brushed against her nipples, making them taut in eager response to his touch.
Her eyes flickered open, then she frowned, feeling his hands on her stomach.
"Daddy, you missed part of me," she said. "Did I?" he asked innocently. "Don't be a tease."
Dan smiled then kissed her on the cheek. His hand moved over her breast and cupped around the fleshy tit. Her body tightened. She moaned and breathed, "Oh." His thumb and forefinger enclosed the turgid nipple, rolling it gently, sending a tingling sensation through her body.
She threw her arms around him as her lips found his. They kissed hungrily, passionately. His tongue entered her mouth. She bit down gently and moved her own tongue around his. Their bodies pressed-against each other and she could feel his stiff penis throbbing against her thigh.
Every fiber of her body was alive, sensitive to his every touch. As his mouth sucked eagerly at her neck she removed his robe and pressed her naked breast against his hairy chest. She wanted her body to mesh into his, to be melted into one.
His mouth moved to her firm tit, and he concentrated on her rigid nipple that stood erect like a monument to her loveliness. He sucked it, bit it gently and laved it with his tongue. His hand slid down to her stomach and he scratched his fingernails across her tightened muscles. Her body jerked spasmodically. She fought to keep from screaming out in wanton ecstasy. She moaned, wanting his hand to invade her meaty treasure. His hand moved between her spread legs to the moist, waiting cunt-lips. Slowly his finger entered the warm, velvety nest, working around the blonde-fringed pussy-lips. Her clitoris leaped up to meet his searching finger. He inserted his thumb and widened the creamy twat. He kneaded, rolled and buffeted her stiff and sensitive clit.
"Yes, daddy, yes! Work it, work it!"
She worked her ass in unison with his finger-fuck. Her passion was mounting, higher and higher. She reached out for him and found his rigid organ. She fingered the head that was filled to bursting proportions. He moaned softly as she slid her small hand down his throbbing shaft, then cupped his balls. The pulsating extension pounded in her hand as she began to stroke it tenderly.
Slowly, their passions rose, the tempo quickened. They were racing, scrambling closer and closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy.
Christine could no longer contain herself; she had to have consummation. The wild, unfulfilled frenzy was driving her toward unconsciousness. She screamed out.
"Take me Daddy-oh God-please take me. Now-now-now-Fuck me!
The anguish in her voice cut through Dan like a knife. She was echoing his feelings. He had reached the point where he had to get his cock into her, he had to feel her pussy-lips surround his prick.
She held him in her hand as he rolled over between her legs. She eagerly spread her juicy cunt, welcoming his large throbbing prick. He clenched the firm cheeks of her ass, then lifted her up as she guided his aching cock between her eager, hungry lips. Greedily she swallowed him. His large, thick tool disappeared easily into her hungry, devouring pussy. She wrapped her legs around him and tried to pull him into her. His balls ground into the crevice of her buttocks. Their perspiring bodies adhered to each other. Their loins, their buttocks moved in a symphony of passion. The passionate delirium sent them reeling, shaking, trembling, trying to fulfill each other's needs. They bit, clawed, kissed, probed as he fucked her faster. Christine screamed uncontrollably.
"Now, daddy, now-I'm coming-I'm coming!"
She could feel his trembling body slam into her as she reached the climax that made every sinew of her body taut. She could feel him shooting his buckets of sperm. The sensitive walls of her vagina felt the spasmic spurtings from his angry cock. The moment of incomparable pleasure gradually subsided. The warm, viscous fluid felt good in her pussy as they held on to each other, savoring the last fleeting moments of ecstasy.
The moment of bliss was over, and their bodies subsided their wanton undulations. They lay spent and exhausted.
Dan kissed her gently on her eyelids, then stretched out on the bed. They lay on their backs, staring at the blank ceiling.
Christine nuzzled closer to Dan, laying her head on his chest as he lit a cigarette.
She could hear the steady thump, thump of his heart and it had a soothing effect on her. Her body was relaxed and limp. It was sapped of every particle of energy. She became engulfed by the fatigued tremors of a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
A kiss on the forehead awakened her. Her eyes flickered open, and, through the haze of her sleepy eyes, she could see that Dan was dressing.
"What time is it?" she asked, as she yawned and stretched her relaxed body.
"Time to get to the arena, lazy bones," Dan answered.
"I'm not lazy," she said as she reached up and pressed the palm of her hand on his limp cock. "He's to blame. He siphons all the energy out of me," she purred, squeezing his cock lovingly.
His cock was beginning to get hard from the slight encouragement which Christine had shown it.
Dan pulled away, knowing full well that another squeeze would lead them into another fuck.
She reached for him again, but he backed away, out of range of her grasping hand.
"Oh, no," he admonished, "you've got an ice-skating trophy to win. When we get back, victorious-then we'll really celebrate."
"Promise?" She asked, getting out of bed and hugging him.
He pushed her gently away, making sure that he didn't touch any part of her erogenous zones. She pouted at the rebuff, but he was firm in his decision. Sex was important to him, but the skating competition was more on his mind at the moment. He was making sure that they would be there. They could have sex anytime, but he knew that the National Championship came only once a year.
"Hop in the shower, while I get your gear together."
He smiled at her. She stood there with a disappointing look on her face. She contemplated the idea of seducing him into a quick screw. If she quickly ran to him, dropped to her knees and opened his zipper and pulled his cock out, in one uninterrupted motion, then perhaps she could change his mind. Maybe then he would let her have a little cock before she had to face the drudgery of figure eights and loops at the arena. The thoughts tumbled through her head, giving her face a hungry, sex-famished look.
Dan knew her too well. He wouldn't allow her to put the nebulous plan into action. Before she was even aware of his movement, he had his strong hands on her shoulders, spinning her around. With a resounding slap on her behind, he sent her off in the direction of the bathroom.
"When we get to Hawaii-we'll spend twenty hours a day in bed," he called out after her.
She looked back at the bathroom doorway and stuck out her tongue at him.
"I may just put a lock on my pussy and keep you out forever," she threatened him, then disappeared into the bathroom.
Dan smiled happily and began gathering up her equipment.
* * *
Christine sighed as she looked around the dressing room of the arena. It was all too familiar to her. She had been in dressing rooms from Coast to Coast and all through Europe. They were all alike-bare concrete walls, wooden benches and steel lockers. Even the girls were the same-there was Patty Johnson, Sandy Kaye, Cheryl Rogers, Peggy Dale-the names were all familiar, she had skated against each of them at one time or another.
If nothing else, it made for a warm and friendly atmosphere. The brief exchanges of greetings over, she began to undress, her mind still back in the bedroom with Dan.
She was down to her lace bra and bikini panties when she looked at Patty Johnson, who was bent over tying on her skates, trying desperately to avoid looking at Christine's scantily covered "V." Patty looked up and knew that Christine had caught her in the act of ogling the luscious, blonde-covered mound. Patty smiled warmly, thinking perhaps, now, that Christine knew she was interested in her pink-walled pussy, she might be agreeable for a more intimate relationship.
Christine smiled weakly in return, to cover up her embarrassment. She then turned her back to Patty, hoping to remove any erotic thoughts from Patty's mind. She didn't realize that her bent-over position exposed the top part of her ass-cleavage, to tantalize Patty's hungry eyes.
The sight of the round, firm cheeks molding smoothly into Christine's back, the two lovely dimples at each side of the deep crack caused Patty to sigh deeply. She had to control her impulse to stick her tongue in Christine's inviting crevice.
Christine quickly shrugged into her costume to quell the uneasiness she felt under Patty's covetous look.
As Christine put on her skates, her thoughts were forced back to the time when she had watched two girls making love to each other. It disgusted her, but it was a novel experience; one that fascinated her. She had wanted to draw her eyes away from the sight, but she couldn't. The paradox of her conflicting emotions puzzled her then as it did now. The more she thought about it the more clear it became. She had been practicing her school figures and was on her way home from the rink. As she walked up the driveway of her home in Denver, she heard an anguished moan emanating from the house next to hers.
She thought that someone might be in trouble so she glanced over the fence, peering into the adjoining bedroom window. She gasped at what she saw. The lady of the house, a lovely thirty-five-year-old mother of two lovely children, was lying nude on the floor, making love to her eighteen-year-old maid. A shiver crawled up Christine's spine as she recalled the frenzied minutes that followed.
They sucked voraciously on each other's small firm tits. The young girl writhed beneath the suctioning mouth and scratching nails. The lady switched to the other tit as her hand moved to the patch of pubic hair, curling above the juicy slit. The maid's legs yawned apart. She groaned loudly as the lady's fingers found the lips, moist and eager.
Christine could see into the lovely pink pussy, and it disgusted her. She turned her face away, but she couldn't leave, her feet felt like they were nailed to the ground. In spite of the revulsion, she looked back into the room, watching the lady's fingers tweak the maid's clitoris. The young girl, tried to muffle her ecstatic groans as the lady mashed, rolled and kneaded her stiff little clitoris.
Christine wanted to put her hands to her ears when the girl screamed, "Eat me-eat my pussy-chew the little man in there-suck my guts right out through my cunt!" She wanted to put her hands to her ears, but she didn't. Instead she watched. She listened. She became aroused as the lady's face moved between the young girl's legs. Christine became oblivious to everything around her as her own hand crept unconsciously between her legs and massaged the aroused lips of her moist virgin box.
She could tell from the girl's violent contortions that the lady had searched for and found the girl's clit. As the lady's head and mouth worked feverishly, trying to make the young girl reach the pinnacle, she straddled the girl's face. The maid needed no more invitation than that. She quickly grabbed the lady by the cheeks of her ass and pushed her mouth into the inviting, moist, warm cunt. Christine watched in wide-eyed fascination, her hand capturing her cunt-juices as the two females sucked each other's pussies.
They worked faster and faster. Christine was caught up in their frenzy and finger-fucked her own crack in rhythm with them. The two bodies reached the peak together. Their bodies tensed, they grabbed each other as tight as they could, while their faces rutted deeper into each other's cunt. Christine heard the muffled screams of their glorious bliss. Suddenly Christine realized that she had had an orgasm at the same time they did. It embarrassed her. She felt like she had taken part in something that was nasty. She ran into her house bewildered by her actions.
A man's voice on the intercom system in the locker room brought her back to reality.
"Will the ladies in the women's competition please report to the judges' stand."
As Christine got up, she noticed that Patty was still watching her. She stood up, feeling the lathery wetness between her legs. She wondered if Patty noticed that, too.
She pushed the thoughts from her head as the girls scrambled from the dressing room, eager to begin the competition.
CHAPTER THREE
"Seventh place-Christine Gray of Denver, Colorado," the announcer's voice blared out over the public address system.
Christine clamped her hands to her ears and cut off the rest of the announcement.
"Damn it!" she blurted out in a low, angry voice, "It might as well be three hundred and seventh!" She fought hard to hold back the tears that began to form in her big blue eyes.
Patty walked up to her and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Chris-you should have gotten third place at worst." She smiled, trying to cheer Christine up.
She looked angrily at Patty and pushed the hand from her shoulder. Sure bitch, you can afford to be nice-you took first, Christine thought to herself.
Patty was genuinely hurt by Christine's reaction. She tried to convey her feelings again.
"Chris-I'm only trying...."
"Fuck you!" Christine blurted out.
She was sorry she had said it as soon as it echoed back in her ears, but it was too late. It was done. She turned and walked quickly away with mixed emotions-hostility and embarrassment.
For twelve years her life had been wrapped up in figure skating. A daily eight-hour grind of figure eights, leaps, salchows and axels-compulsory figures, free skating, school figures over and over and over. And she knew that she was good-damn good.
She had won all the championships on the local, state and regional levels. Three years ago she had entered her first Nationals and finished a very creditable fourth. The following year she had slipped to fifth, but she had finished with a point total close enough to first place to realize, that, if she had concentrated on the compulsory figures just a little more and if she had just been a little more confident and daring in her free skating, she could have easily vaulted into first place.
And so it was back to the training rink for another year of arduous discipline and concentration. This year's Nationals were even more important to her-it was also the year of the Olympics. The first three places automatically qualified for the Olympic team.
Christine had always dreamed of being a National and Olympic champion. She sacrificed her social life in order to be the figure-skating queen of the world.
Her chance had come and gone. She had finished seventh.
She couldn't control her tears any longer.
A strong hand went around her shoulder and she looked up into a pair of sympathetic eyes.
Dan smiled gently and raised her drooping head.
"Smile, honey. You'll be a breeze next year."
"No, I won't," she spit out bitterly.
Her words upset him, then he realized it was only the utter disappointment which she was feeling that had made her react so negatively. He knew that it would pass in time. It always had. Once she was back in training under his watchful eye, she would replace her remorse with arduous practice. That's the way it had been for twelve years. That's the way it would always be. She was Trilby. He was Svengali. He had molded her to his specifications. She had won the championships that had eluded him when he was a skater. Now she would win the Nationals for him. And she would, of that, he was certain.
"Is that any way' for my champion to talk? You were only that far away from taking it all today." He dramatized his words by holding his thumb and forefinger a quarter of an inch apart. "If you hadn't been nervous in the free skating, it wouldn't have been close."
"I wasn't the least bit nervous today, and I skated the best I could. But you are right about one thing. It wasn't close." There was still a trace of bitterness in her voice but no anger.
"That's not true," he answered, his voice betraying his impatience with his student. "I was watching closely-I could see your timing was off. Why you skate better in training than the rest of these girls can on their best day!"
"Sure, in training, in front of you-I'm always flawless. In the regionals, I'm flawless. In the Nationals, I'm an also-ran. I'm a loser and it's about time I faced up to it!" Her anger and frustration finally exploded.
Dan grabbed her by the arms and turned her to him. He held her firmly, not allowing her to avoid his eyes.
"That's a stupid and childish thing to say! You're still young! You're still learning!"
Christine laughed softly, a mocking, biting laugh. "You're still young! You're still learning!" She echoed, then laughed again. "I'm twenty-three! The six girls that finished ahead of me are still in their teens. Aren't they still young-aren't they still learning?"
Dan knew that he couldn't come up with an answer that would satisfy her perceiving question. He decided to avoid the issue until he felt that Christine was in a better frame of mind. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
"Why don't we discuss it later, when you're more receptive to logic. Right now, you're emotionally upset."
She pulled away from him.
"You're damn right I'm upset. It isn't every day that I faintly accept the fact that I'm not quite good enough for the best and slipping down to where I'm just barely good enough to hold off the second best. How did it feel when you realized that you weren't even good enough to win in state meets?"
The words were hardly out of her mouth, when she felt a dejected wave of remorse sweep over her. She could see the pain in Dan's eyes. He had devoted himself to her, and she had deliberately punctured his ego, his dreams, his life. She had poured salt into a big gaping sensitive wound that had never completely healed. She threw herself into his arms.
"I'm sorry, Dan," she sobbed, "truly sorry. Please forgive me."
He put his hand on her head, trying to smile. "Sure, honey, forget it."
She looked up at him and forced a smile. The tension of the moment had eased, but, beneath the facade of mutual forgiveness, there lay the realization that something in their relationship had been lost. Twelve years of smoldering subconscious resentment for the deprivation she had to endure to fulfill Dan's dreams had finally forced its way to the surface. It was Dan's dream from the beginning. It was never hers. She was sadly aware that that was the reason she had tried to hurt him. She was living his dreams, not her own. She was living his life, not her own. But the most upsetting realization was that the only enjoyment she had had in all these years was the enjoyment she had given to him, not her own.
The new awareness made her feel guilty. She looked at his strong face, smiling down at her, and she could see that he was troubled by what she had said. More than that, she knew that he, too, had finally faced the fact that his dream had vanished.
She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "Dan, let's go to the hotel, I'm tired."
She sat down and began to unlace her skates.
Dan looked at her a moment and then looked over at the knot of well-wishers surrounding the winners. They were being congratulated, not only by friends and fans, but by the other competitors as well. Dan had never seen Christine display any unsportsman-like conduct before, but it became increasingly clear to him that she was about to display it, now. It seemed obvious to him that she had no intention of adding her good wishes to those of the others.
As she handed him one skate, he sat down beside her, trying to think of the right words, to point out the folly of her actions and not upset her any more than she already was. He slipped the cover over the skate blade and decided there was only one way to tell her that she was committing a sporting and social error.
"Chris, honey," he began hesitantly, "don't you think you should go over and congratulate the winner?"
She looked up and handed him the other skate. "Why?" The question was a statement, expressing Christine's true feelings.
Dan was shocked. She had always been wonderfully warm. The many times that she had won she had been humble and gracious and complimentary to her competitors-the few times when she had lost she was equally as gracious and complimentary. She had known the wonderful feeling of winning and the taste of sadness in losing.
"They deserve it, Chris. They worked hard to win. They would have done the same for you. The sport has been good to you! At least go out a winner in life!" He proclaimed.
"It hasn't been good to me! It's been good to you! I've gotten you almost all the trophies and medals that you couldn't get for yourself. All it did for me was to rob me of my childhood, my dates, the parties and now I'm bringing it to a screeching halt! They're your trophies not mine, so why don't you go over and congratulate them-I'm going back to the hotel!"
She turned quickly and started up the aisle of the arena. Dan started to call after her but saw that it would be useless. He put her skates in the small traveling bag.
He hadn't taken two steps when he was stopped by a rugged-locking man in his late twenties, who extended a business card. Dan took it, but didn't bother to "look at it, he was more concerned with Christine.
The young man persisted in spite of the fact that he could read the anxiety in Dan's face.
"My name is Jim Fowler, President of Ice Frolics. You are Dan Connors, Miss Gray's coach and manager, aren't you?"
"Yes, but I'm in...."
"Has Miss Gray ever thought of turning professional?" He quickly interrupted.
The question had been asked many times before and Dan always found it repugnant. Christine didn't need money, he had all she would ever want, and he always made sure that she never had any lack of it. He turned angrily to Jim and answered him without disguising his emotions.
"No-we never have and we never will!"
"May I speak with Miss Gray? Perhaps she might feel differently later in the day." Jim asked casually.
"Not later in the day, or later in the decade! Now, if you'll excuse me-I have important matters to take care of!"
Dan picked up the traveling bag and angrily brushed by Jim as he made his way up the aisle.
Jim watched Dan tearing up his card as he strode out of the arena. He smiled. He knew that he would be seeing Dan again, knowing that he was going to the hotel to talk to Christine.
Jim Fowler was determined to have Christine Gray as part of his Ice Frolics. He had seen her sparkling personality project itself to the audience. He had seen the flair, the showmanship that was an inherent part of her routines. Her technique might not be as perfect as some of the other skaters whom he had seen, but she was alive, she performed with a special lively magnetism that only audiences appreciated.
He wanted her for the Frolics and only she could deter him, only she could say no.
CHAPTER FOUR
Christine was stepping out of the shower when she heard a knock on the door. She wrapped her terry cloth robe around her wet body and went to the door of the bedroom. She listened. She wasn't sure that she had heard a knock. There was no mistaking it this time-it was loud and insistent.
"Stop banging, I'm coming." she called out.
She tied the ends of her robe as she went hurriedly to the door, thinking that her caller was Dan. He was forever forgetting his key. Once at the door she thought better of it and stopped to make sure.
"Who is it?" she asked. "Jim Fowler."
"Who?" she questioned again.
"Jim Fowler, President of the Ice Frolics," he answered with an air of pride.
She opened the door slightly. She wasn't in the least bit disappointed in his looks. The warm smile that faced her quickly changed to a sly grin, upon seeing that Christine was almost nude.
"What is it, Mr. Fowler?" she asked embarrassedly.
"I'd like to talk with you for a few minutes, if I may."
"About what?" she asked. "Your future."
His simple statement intrigued her, just as Jim Fowler had planned it to do. He was the first person, other than Dan, who professed an interest in her future.
"My future?"
It was almost as if she were asking herself the question. She suddenly realized that she did want to talk about her future. She knew that Dan's dream was a bust and that she had better lay the foundation fdr her next enterprise.
She had gotten a glow of warmth from him, a feeling that she had known him for a long time, even though this was the first time she had ever set eyes on him. She had never heard of Jim Fowler, but she knew his show. His was the biggest and most prestigious of all the ice shows. She had even seen the show a few times and loved it. The beautiful costumes, the pageantry, the intricate routines, the glamour all made for a wonderful evening of entertainment. She had even, at one time, secretly harbored a desire to be part of it. She had also heard that the president of the company really made out with the opposite sex. He was often described as the boy satyr of the ice set. He could get a girl's ass on the ice before she could finish an outside loop. Now that she was face to face with him, she couldn't quite believe the sex tales attributed to his name. She saw that he certainly had all the attributes necessary for a life of debauchery, but her sheltered life and sexual innocence diminished such thoughts.
Her mind swept the myriad of thoughts aside and returned to the question-her future. She decided to talk with Jim Fowler.
"I'd be interested in what you have to say-why don't you join us for dinner and we can discuss it then?" she suggested.
"I'd love to, but I have to catch the ten o'clock plane for New York. My new Frolics opens in Madison Square Garden in two days," he replied.
"Oh," she said, showing her disappointment.
"Surely you can spare a few minutes. Your future must be important to you-just as mine is to me. If you don't have a future, you don't really have a present." Jim was pressing and he had gained much from his experiences-the right words for the right job, the right composure for the right situation.
Christine knew what he was attempting, but she was receptive to his advances, realizing that he was giving her a goal to shoot at-her future occupation.
"All right. No woman can refuse a poet." She smiled as she opened the door for him to enter. "Thank you, Christine."
With the use of her first name, without so much as a "may I," he had broken down the door of formality. There was nothing offensive about the way he had done it. She couldn't object; she was sure he would do the same with anyone. Be comfortable, get on a first name basis immediately, she was sure that was his philosophy. She smiled. Suddenly she was feeling very comfortable.
"I'd rather you called me Chris."
He smiled in return. "May I, Chris?" he asked, motioning to the divan.
"Please, Jim." His first name came out naturally, it wasn't forced, it didn't seem to hang on her tongue as so many other first names had on initial meetings. She was surprised that she felt so relaxed with him. It was a new feeling for her. Her contact with men was so limited because of Dan's overwhelming presence, that she tended to be uncomfortable with them.
Jim lit a cigarette as Christine sat on the divan with him. Her robe opened and exposed a firm, bare thigh.
It excited him. He had seen more of her legs when she skated, but now he could see the texture, the creamy smoothness of her legs.
Christine casually covered her thigh with the robe. She enjoyed the way that he had looked at her leg. She was almost tempted to let the robe slide away again.
"Chris," Jim said, interrupting her thoughts, "you are a very beautiful girl and you skate beautifully."
"Thank you," she smiled appreciatively.
"How much longer are you going to waste it on amateur contests?" He asked candidly.
It caught her off guard, as it was intended to do, and her brow furrowed as a puzzled expression crossed her face. She shifted her weight uneasily, and, once again, the robe slipped away, exposing the smooth conjunction of thigh to hip.
"What do you mean?" She finally asked.
Jim began to speak, but his eyes were focused on the lovely trace of gold skin, peeking out from under the protective covering of the robe.
"You're not cut out for tracing figure eights in the ice so some dried-up old biddy can see if the furrows are a sixteenth or a thirty-second apart. You were never meant to be confined within the rigid bars of cumpulsory figures."
She squirmed some more, and the top of her robe parted slightly, enough for Jim to see the curve of her breast. He had to force himself to continue speaking. He could feel his limp dick beginning to stir. He tried to get his mind off sex but the hint of her firm nipples and her luscious vagina made his voice and actions shaky.
"You're a free skater-alive, vital, inventive." He continued reluctantly. "The dull, drab conventional world of medals and trophies is for teenagers. You're a woman, a beautiful woman. You have to have the freedom to express yourself. Without that freedom, you'll dry up inside, you'll become known as the grand old veteran of figure skating before you reach your late twenties." The words poured out softly but with the impact of sharp needles piercing her mind.
She wasn't hearing anything new. Those very thoughts had tumbled through her brain, time and time again, and each time the interval between the thoughts became less as she grew older. But it was the first time someone was able to delve into the deep recesses of her mind and tell her what she was thinking. It frightened her.
"Throw off the restrictions of amateurism," he continued, "and turn professional. I want you with my Ice Frolics and you need it."
"Stop!" She cried out.
He put out his cigarette as she got up from the divan and began to pace the room. He could see her eyes were moist, but he had no idea how he had been hitting home as he talked. He knew, now, that she would become a great attraction in time, with all her attributes. At her age, he knew that she would be susceptible to his line of reasoning. He knew, now, that he had picked the most sensitive area to concentrate on, and he felt like a heel for having exploited it.
Christine walked to the window and leaned against it. She-began to sob softly as Jim watched guiltily.
Her emotions were running rampant, her thoughts bombarded her. She knew everything that Jim had said was right-it was what she had voiced in her thoughts. But he had solidified them in front of her eyes, he had made them seem real and tangible. She wanted to shout out acceptance of his offer, but Dan's image had a stranglehold on her vocal chords. Dan always had a stranglehold on her. She had tried to break the hold, to sever the invisible cable that held her to Dan, but she had never been able to. She realized that the crux of her problem was cutting the umbilical cord that linked herself to Dan. She was aware that hurting Dan was like hurting herself. She wondered how she could suddenly throw away twelve years of hard work for the opportunity of greener pastures.
Jim quietly walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. He slowly turned her around and looked into her tear-stained face. His heart ached as he looked at her. She looked so lost, so alone, like a little child trying to grope its way through an impenetrable forest of adult emotion.
He leaned over and kissed each of her tear-filled eyes. It was all she needed. She threw her arms around his middle as if he were her protector. He could feel the heat of her body and it made him giddy. He lifted her head with his hand and kissed her softly on the lips. She pressed her pelvis into him. He kissed her again and her mouth opened slightly. His tongue slipped into her warm, receptive mouth. He could feel her beginning to tremble as she brought her tongue forward and made contact with his. His cock was beginning to stir rapidly as his hand slipped inside her robe and found her breast, the nipple already taut with excitement.
Her breathing was heavy as their lips parted and Jim kissed her ear and neck. When his mouth engulfed her nipple, she couldn't keep from squealing out, "Oh God-oh God."
He kept his mouth busy on her tit as he untied the belt of her terry cloth robe. When he reached around and grabbed her taut buttock, she straddled one of his legs and massaged her aching crotch against his rock-hard thigh. Her hand slipped down and her fingers fondled the length of his now throbbing, pulsating cock.
The length surprised and frightened her. It was even bigger and fatter than Dan's. She didn't think it was possible-she always thought that Dan had the biggest prick in the world. She wondered if the massive thing which she was holding in her hand would hurt her-her cunt was used to the huge hulk of Dan's cock. For the first time in her life, she was aching to try another man's dick-she wanted to fuck Jim.
She unzipped his fly and hesitantly put her hand inside his shorts. Her hand wrapped around his taut cock. She gasped, feeling the palm-sized glans and the armlength shaft. It was hot and throbbing. She wiped off wet drops of semen lubricant. She had to struggle to get the huge cock free of the confining cloth of his pants and shorts. Naked and dangling before her, the sight of his quivering cock caused her to shudder and moan in ecstatic expectation.
She explored its length, fingering the full sac hanging below it.
Jim's finger rolled her clitoris and she was snapped out of her preoccupation with his prick. She gasped wildly and spread her legs, giving him more room to explore her meaty, moist confines.
Suddenly he stopped massaging her clit and took her hand away from his prick. She looked at him curiously. He smiled and picked her up in his arms. She had her arms wrapped around his neck as he carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, her thighs wide open, her arms held out, wanting his body on top of hers.
She lay there in keen anticipation as he started to disrobe. Her eyes were pinned to the huge cock pointing at her as he began to unbutton his shirt.
A disturbing thought pushed into her swooning mind. What if Dan should come in? she thought. She sat bolt upright and shouted, "No!"
Jim stopped undressing and looked at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
"What do you mean, no?" he asked.
Christine leaped off the bed and put her robe on.
"Please forgive me, Jim," she pleaded, "I want to make love to you, but I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?" He asked excitedly.
His peter ached, he wanted her so bad-it was ready-he was ready-and she was ready and now suddenly the whole thing was blowing up in his face, leaving him with a pair of aching balls. He wanted to grab her and throw her back down on the bed and ram his cock into her for leading him on this way, but he knew he wouldn't and couldn't-he was a man with immense pride. A girl gave herself to him willingly, eagerly-or not at all. He tried to find the reason for the sudden change of heart.
"You want to make love to me-but you can't. Maybe I'm stupid, but I don't understand."
"I've never had any man but Dan. As long as I'm with him, I won't have any other man. Please try to understand-please. I am sorry. I never should have let you start. Please forgive me." The sincerity in her voice melted the anger that had begun to swell up in Jim.
He really couldn't be angry with a girl who wanted to be true to the man she was living with. He reluctantly admired her for her decision. He looked down at his half hard penis and smiled. "Okay-but what do I do with this?" He smiled at her.
She looked longingly at the pathetic hunk of meat, dangling between his thighs. She smiled. "I don't think you'll have any trouble finding a nesting place for him. And I'll have to admit I envy the girl."
They exchanged smiles as he slipped the tool back into his pants and sighed. "That's life. Some days you just can't get it out of the rain."
They walked out of the bedroom.
Christine saw the lock turning on the door. She felt a shiver of fear race up her spine as the door opened and Dan sauntered in. His jaw sagged as he saw Jim.
Quickly Christine ran to Dan and kissed him on the cheek. Jim smiled and offered his hand to Dan.
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Connors." he offered.
"I didn't know you met my stepfather," she said in a puzzled tone as she looked at Jim, wondering why he hadn't mentioned it.
Jim was taken aback upon mention of the word, stepfather. He ignored Christine's question, standing there in shock.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dan demanded, shaking him from his startled repose.
"I-I wanted to know if Christine felt differently than you do about turning professional," he answered, trying to calm down.
"She doesn't! I tell her what she feels and doesn't feel! She'll stay simon pure until she wins the Nationals!" Dan's face was livid with rage and his voice quavered in an angry tone. His fists were clenched tightly together.
"I thought she was your stepdaughter-not your robot. You'll be nice enough to tell her when she falls in love-won't you?" He kept his voice calm while managing to wrap up his gift of words with a bow of sarcasm.
In spite of his anger, Dan flashed a look toward Christine and saw immediately that he made a mistake in flagrantly pointing out that he had gone so far as to dictate her feelings. It angered him even more to know that Jim had succeeded in driving an insurmountable wedge between himself and Christine. He whirled viciously on Jim.
"You bastard-you've caused enough trouble now, get the hell out of here or I'll throw you out!" He advanced slowly to Jim.
Jim eyed him coolly. He saw that Dan was the same height and build as him. Their only real difference was that Dan was ten years older than him, but his physical health reflected the twelve years of skating with Christine. Christine ran between them and shouted, "Dan-stop it! Stop it right now!"
Dan remained tense, ready to fight.
"I'll leave. I'm truly sorry if I've caused you any embarrassment," Jim said to Christine.
Dan relaxed and moved to the opposite end of the room as Christine faced Jim. She tried to force a smile, but it wouldn't come. Tears welled up in her eyes instead. The past few moments had been a great shock to her, physically and emotionally. It was impossible for her to shrug it off with a smile. She stared into his eyes with a pleading look, apologizing to Jim for Dan's actions.
Jim smiled sympathetically and walked to the door. He turned around and looked at her. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, yet, at the same time, he wanted to shake her out of the emotional stupor that seemed to possess her. He could do neither.
"My offer will be open for a limited time. You'll always be welcome at the Ice Frolics! That is if you don't grow too old, trying to win the Nationals." His last remark was shot at Dan. Jim saw his angry response, he smiled back, then casually shut the door behind him.
Christine put her hands up to her face and began to cry aloud.
Dan rushed to her side and put his arms around her. "That dirty son of a bitch! I'm going after him and beat the hell out of him!" He started for the door.
"NO!" Christine screamed.
He stopped short and looked at her.
"NO!" she repeated. "Leave him alone!"
"But he hurt my baby-nobody can hurt my baby and get away with it!" He stammered in his anger.
"He didn't hurt me. I was hurt a long time ago. Everything he said was true."
"What did he say that was true? What did he say before I got here?"
"Nothing that I didn't know before. I knew I was a robot. I knew you regulated my feelings, but I didn't think you gloried in that, too! I thought you only wanted my medals and trophies-not my soul." Her words knifed through Dan's anger to strike upon his heart.
"You know I didn't mean what I said. I was angry. I told that bastard at the arena that you weren't interested in turning professional. But he had to insist, he had to come up here and upset you. He upset my baby-I knew it as soon as I walked in the room. I just flew off the handle-I said the first thing that came to my mind-I didn't think."
"Truth comes out of anger," she stated flatly.
"That's not true baby-you know deep down I didn't mean what I said-don't you?
"Right now, I don't know anything." It was the first thing she had uttered that she knew was true. She was torn in a million directions and it didn't seem to her as if she would ever pull herself together again.
"I know honey, I know-that nasty bastard upset my little baby."
He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I'll fix it. Daddy'll make everything all right. I'll give you a good rubdown and everything will be all right."
She looked at him maliciously. "A rubdown fixes everything-doesn't it daddy!"
"That's right baby-everything." He answered, ignoring the sarcasm in her tone of voice. He led her into the bedroom.
He took the robe from her shoulders as she stood motionless. She lay down on the bed as if she were a robot. She stared at the ceiling, her body stretched limply on the hard mattress.
Dan quickly undressed and got into bed next to her. He kissed her on the neck, but she didn't respond. He tried again and let his hand cover her breast as he moved closer to her so she could feel his hard-on. He laved her neck and kneaded her nipple as his cock hardened and pressed into her flesh. She lay there limply. It was the first time that he had ever fondled her that she didn't respond immediately.
"I know baby-you must be beat. You just lay there and daddy'll do all the work. Daddy'll fix it so you'll sleep like a log." He said, rationalizing her cold indifference.
He kept one hand manipulating her nipple as he moved his lips and tongue down to her navel. His tongue probed her navel. Dan kissed and caressed more vigorously. His free hand played with her flaxen pubic hair, then planted kisses on her stomach. He spread her legs, his hands dipped between her lovely thighs and felt the lips of her dry slit. He ran the tips of his fingers lightly along the puffed ridges.
His fingers traveled over her wet cunt-lips, spreading them wide for his eager tongue. His nose sniffed the pussy-scented odor of her blonde pubic hairs. His tongue flicked out at the gleaming meat, held open by his thumbs. Her buttocks tightened as she felt his fingers open up her moist vaginal mouth.
Her cunt-juices moistened her outer pussy-lips, flowing down the crack of her ass.
Her passion was building and she couldn't control it. She wanted relief. Jim had built her up and that unfulfilled orgasm still welled up in her like an indigestible knot. The soft, moist walls of her cunt ached to feel his throbbing shaft reaming out her desire.
Her ass undulated slowly, trying to help his strong fingers find the areas that would give her the most pleasure.
"Oh daddy-your tongue-I need your tongue!" she hated herself for saying it, but she didn't care. She had to have release-she needed to come like she had never come before.
His face moved between her legs and she spread her thighs wide to accept him. His fingers spread the sweet-smelling lips apart and his tongue entered. Christine moved her hips up, giving him greater access to her clitoris. His tongue leaped on her clit, until it was stiff enough for Dan to capture it between his teeth, to chew and munch on her erect bud. Christine's ass worked feverishly, savoring every delicious movement of his tongue and lips. Her body convulsed as her passions rose higher. Sensuous charges sparked through her body. Her pussy nerves exploded as she clawed for the beautiful orgasm that awaited her. She wanted it-she ran screaming for it.
"Almost, daddy-almost. Suck my guts right out through my cunt!" She was repeating what she had heard so many years before. Dan stuck his tongue into her cuntal cavity, licking the sopping satin walls of her fiery pussy. She wanted his whole head in her. Then, she exploded. A giant erotic wave picked her up and smashed her against the shore of ecstasy. Her body tensed and ached for more. She was delirious with desperate desire.
Slowly, slowly, she returned to earth-slowly, slowly, she relaxed. Now, every muscle in her body went limp-the last of her orgiastic fluids oozed out, forming a pungent-smelling puddle beneath her ass. Christine was at peace with the world. Dan continued making love to her juicy twat, licking the last drops of her desire.
Christine fell into a deep restful sleep, with Dan's face buried between her legs.
CHAPTER FIVE
"United Airlines-flight number 243 for New York-now loading at gate number fourteen," the public address system blared out.
Christine picked up her flight bag and looked around. She half expected Dan to suddenly appear and drag her from the airport-and she half wanted him to.
She was afraid to go forward and afraid to go back. She had finally gathered the courage to try and sever the leash that Dan had on the collar of her life. His presence, even now, hovered in her mind and it made her shiver.
She had awakened before dawn and quietly packed her clothes. She left while Dan slept heavily from the great effort he had put forth the night before. She was grateful that she had insisted long ago that she should have her own credit cards.
In spite of her fear of what she was doing, a smile crossed her face-it was the first time in her life that she was on her own. No Dan hovering over her telling her what to do-how to do it-and when to do it. She watched a bird soar lazily over the airport and likened it to herself. She felt she could fly-she felt like she had wings-she felt free-free! The feeling made her giddy, made her want to run up to strangers and yell out, "Hey mister-I'm free-free!"
The public address system repeated the message and it snapped Christine out of her reverie.
She took one last look around the waiting room and then hurriedly embarked on flight 243, heading for New York, heading for a new life.
She looked out the window at the fleecy clouds that shot by in streaming mists. And she felt truly free. She was flying to a new life-a life without Dan as the director. Her thoughts went to Jim. She laughed softly as she thought of him standing in her bedroom, a crestfallen look on his face and that big half-erect penis hanging in front of him, asking what he was supposed to do with it. She laughed out loud, not caring that the elderly man sitting next to her was giving her puzzled looks.
Fuck you, pop-you wouldn't mind my laughing, if you knew what I was thinking, she thought.
She wondered if Jim would try, again, now that she was no longer with Dan-she hoped he would.
She reclined back into the cushioned seat, trying to catch up on her sleep, but the haunting figure of Dan emerged in her mind. Her thoughts wandered back through the years. Back to when she was eleven and her mother first told her that she was going to have a new father. She had liked Dan from the first moment she met him. By the time her mother passed away a year later she was in love with him.
With her mother gone, he was all she had and she clung to him, for protection, for care, for love.
He had been an amateur figure skater, more familiar with defeat than success. He had persuaded Christine to take up the sport. She had loved it in the beginning. Then when Dan had said that she really had talent, the love for the sport had disappeared and in its place, she tried to appease her father, trying to make him proud of her.
He fashioned her, molded her into what he was not. He was a hard task-master and she was a willing and apt student. By the time she was fifteen, she was winning local and state meets. She could win until she would get to the Nationals; then it was the same story-good-but not good enough.
The thoughts of all the locker rooms, the practice, the different ice arenas were pushed out of her mind. In its stead, she thought of Dan, her stepfather, her man, her lover.
She remembered how it began, ten years ago. When he was teaching her how to skate, his arm would be around her back, his hand under her armpit, and she could feel his thumb pressing against the side of her thirteen-year-old breast. She didn't know if it was by design or accident, but she didn't care. She loved him and it was all right if he wanted to do it.
She remembered the playful wrestling matches that they would have in strange hotels after a strenuous performance. His hands would be all over her. He would press his body against hers, and she could feel his stiff cock pressing into her firm flesh. She recalled how, after much wrestling and rubbing, he would suddenly stiffen and have an orgasm, though she didn't know it at the time. She did know that whatever was happening made him feel good, and, if it made him feel good, it made her happy.
She smiled as she recalled the Sunday they were lounging in the house, he with only his shorts on and she in a shorty nightgown. They began to wrestle. Vividly she could see them wrestling, feeling his hands grabbing her by her firm, developing breasts, grabbing her between the legs. She could still feel his big, stiff cock pressing against her ass, against her belly.
Then it happened, she was lying across his stomach and his huge penis poked through the opening in his shorts. Her eyes widened at the naked size of it. She grabbed it in her hand, playfully.
"Oh daddy-you're sticking out!" she squealed in girlish delight.
He tried to put it back in his shorts, but her hands kept a steady hold around the fleshy staff.
"Oh daddy-it's so big-it's so big," she kept saying in awe.
He showed her what he wanted. She started a slow steady stroking, up and down. He sighed delightedly as she slowly masturbated him.
"Does that feel good, daddy?"
"Yes, baby-it feels wonderful," he answered.
He could feel the head swelling, the sperm loading up ready to spout forth.
"A little faster, baby-a little faster."
She stepped up the pace with her soft hands.
"Faster-faster!"
She stroked faster, his body working with the rhythm of her stroke. His breathing became heavier. She felt his body beginning to tense. Suddenly he screamed in passion as the little hole in the head of his cock expelled the thick, hot sperm wads in a succession of spasms. He moaned softly and his body went limp.
"Daddy-did that feel good?"
"Wonderful-wonderful, honey," he got out weakly.
She still had his prick in her hands, fondling it, not realizing that she was keeping it from returning to its normal size.
"It's so pretty, daddy-pretty."
She bent over and kissed it on the head.
It startled Dan. "You shouldn't do that," he said, gasping at the sudden sensation that tingled his balls.
"Why not daddy? I love you and this is part of you."
She kissed it, again and again, then she touched the tip with her tongue and Dan moaned softly. A drop of his semen remained and Christine's tongue tasted it. She was pleased with the salty taste. She began to stroke his cock with one hand while exploring the big bag hanging below it with the other hand. Dan was beginning to moan again and she picked up the stroke. She placed her mouth over the head of his big cock, engulfing half the shaft.
He squirmed, feeling her tongue circle the circumference of his cock. The fires within him built higher and higher. Her mouth stretched wide and she managed to get the large, full-blooded head into it. On and on, higher and higher he went-it was about to blow. He wanted to shout to Christine to take her mouth away, but it was too late-he loosed a hot torrent into her mouth. She almost gagged from the flood, but she swallowed every drop and then suctioned for more. It was driving him mad. It felt like she was pulling his insides out through the head of his cock. His body went limp, and he collapsed into a dead sleep while Christine went and got a towel to clean his body from the first load that covered his chest and stomach.
From then on Dan indulged himself of Christine. He no longer needed the pretext of wrestling. She would dutifully ask him if he wanted to come, then she would oblige his every desire by either jerking him off, sucking him off or making him come by moving his cock between her legs.
After a particularly successful day, when she had brought about an orgasm from Dan by first taking him between the legs, then jerking him off, then crowning her achievements by taking half his muscle into her mouth and making him come, she asked a question that had been puzzling her for some time.
"Daddy-can little girls come?"
"Little girls like who?" he asked, knowing she had been pondering the question all along, wondering why she hadn't asked sooner.
"Like me," she smiled.
He narrowed his eyes, pretending to mull the question in his mind, then he spoke in an authoritative tone. "Well, that depends-some can and some can't."
She frowned at the answer-she wanted to feel what he had been feeling and his answer was wholly unsatisfactory.
He waited a moment and then broke into a wide smile and winked at her.
"Shall we find out?" , "Yes, daddy-yes!" She too broke into a wide smile.
They both undressed and got into bed. He pulled her to him and smothered her in his large body, the heat from him making her tingle all over. She reached down to feel his ready prick, but he took her hand away.
"No, honey-I'm going to make you feel good today."
"All right, daddy," she replied eagerly.
He laid her on her back and moved his lips to her pointy breasts that already gave evidence of what was to be. He nipped the taut little nipple between his teeth, making her shiver with the tingles that crackled through her firm flesh. His hand moved slowly to her navel and dipped into it, then continued across her flat hard tummy. She moaned as his fingers moved closer and closer to the sparse golden pubic hairs. His hand dipped between her firm thighs and she spread them for him. One finger slid along the lips of her virgin pussy and she began to move her rounded ass uncontrollably.
"Bring your knees up, baby," he advised her.
She did it immediately. She didn't want anything to go wrong. His thumb and forefinger spread her tight lips apart. He entered and found the little clitoris standing and waiting. His finger attacked it-whirling around it, pressing it and flattening it.
Christine's little body was on fire, she heaved and bucked-she spread her legs as far apart as she could, working her butt frantically as her stepfather strove to bring about her first orgasm. She moaned and groaned as they worked in perfect harmony. It came closer and closer.
Her body arched and tensed as she screamed-"Daddy-daddy-daddy-daddy-daddy-I'm coming!" She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed as if the devil were after her. She screamed loudly as the last tremors of passion passed through her. Then she collapsed in a jelly-like heap as her stepfather continued rolling his tongue around her blood-taut nipple.
He looked up at her lovely face. "Did my little baby like it?"
She smiled contentedly. "Oh, daddy, it was the most wonderful thing in the world. It makes me feel happy just to know that's how I make you feel."
She brought his face up to hers and she kissed him.
Then she coyly asked, "Can daddy make me come again?"
"Of course, honey. Do you want me to do it another way?" he asked as he tweaked her nipple, bringing a shudder to her body.
She squirmed her little butt and reached down and fondled his pulsating prick.
"Any way is all right. What about you-don't you want to come?" she asked as her hand slid up and down on his stiff shaft. Dan kissed her, then moved her hand away from him. "Not now, baby-I want my little girl to have all the pleasure."
"Oh, daddy, you're so good to me," she cooed. He kissed her again and his hands began to work on her titties again. Her hot little cunt was already beginning to itch. He had just begun the preliminary exploration of her body. His hot, wet mouth moved down to the nipple and smothered it with salivary kisses. She pressed her breasts into him until he had the whole round, firm globe in his mouth, his tongue dancing over the nipple, driving her to a frenzy. His fingers slipped into her hot, anxious slit. He left her breast and let his tongue slide down the cleavage of her breasts until he reached the navel, where it dipped in and ringed around and around. Chris tine's belly and twat bounced, up and down, trying to meet both his fingers and his tongue. When he left her navel, she gasped. She wanted him to stay there and keep his hot tongue jabbing at the middle of her belly. Her body trembled as his tongue slowly worked lower into the sparse pubic hair, leaving a trail of hot saliva behind.
As he moved between her legs, he removed his fingers from her contracting lips.
She moaned pitifully, "No, daddy-no-I'm almost ready.
"I know, baby-I know," and he pressed his mouth against her hot, aching little pussy.
She gasped convulsively as her knees bent and her legs raised instinctively.
He kissed the lovely, moist lips and ran his hot tongue up and down. Her ass lashed from side to side. She tried to press her box harder and harder against his wonderful mouth.
"Inside of me, daddy-inside!" she pleaded.
His thumbs worked up between her legs and spread the luscious virginal lips apart, revealing the soft, velvety, pink walls of her cunt. He lunged into the welcoming hole, his mouth sucking the sweet juices that she secreted from her heart of passion. His finger delved into the deep crease of her ass, teasing the delicate, puckering rosette.
Her body was on fire. She squirmed convulsively, all the while trying to get as much of Dan's slavering, sucking mouth into her as possible.
"She yelled-"Stop-stop-you're killing me! No, don't stop-more-more-more! Pinch me-suck me-eat me-hit me-make me come! Please-Please-make me come-I can't stand it!"
Dan worked more feverishly as her body began to tense, her buttocks tightened and drew together. She was almost there. Suddenly she broke the barrier. Her back arched upward. Dan had to hold onto her, keeping her bucking body from falling off the bed.
She screamed uncontrollably as the dam burst in her pussy, sending surge after surge of convulsions through her body. Her hands reached down and pressed his willing head deeper into her tender, burning cunt. She held him there as the fires began to subside. She worked her bottom gently against his mouth.
The waves of exhilarating tremors eased away and she sunk deeper and deeper into the mattress. A cloudy blackness overtook her and she fell into a welcome sleep.
Dan smiled down at her limp body, pleased with the amount of joy he had brought to her. He then looked at his throbbing cock, dripping a thin stream of semen, begging for relief.
He reached down, gave it five rapid strokes and it shot off like a rocket. He was exhausted and lay down beside Christine, his mouth nuzzling against her delightful tit, where he also fell asleep.
"Would you like lunch now?" asked the stewardess with a toothy smile.
It took a moment for Christine to realize where she was. When she did, she felt embarrassment creep over her. It was as though the stewardess was capable of reading her thoughts, knowing that Christine's hand was resting at her crotch hidden by a magazine. She felt wet between her legs and her pussy itched for attention.
She withdrew her hand, tried to smile pleasantly. "Yes, please," she answered, choosing a rare steak and baked potato for her lunch.
Christine felt warm and contented after her lunch. She reclined the seat back and made another attempt at getting some sleep. She tossed fitfully, thinking about all that had happened, about Jim's offer and his candid appraisal of her. He had hit the nail on the head and it hurt. But it had forced her to reappraise her own future plan, it had stimulated her desire to begin life over again.
She smiled smugly. She had completed the first step-she was putting two thousand miles between them. She felt a satisfaction that was unique in her life.
But she couldn't stop thinking about Dan-how he would react when he read the letter. Would he come after her and try to get her to come back with him using a very convincing persuader-his cock. His cock-she smiled-she wondered how another man's tool would feel in her. She had only known him-it was as though her pussy were molded to the shape of his cock. The thought made her giggle.
Her mind slipped back to the past once more-back to the first time that he fucked her. It was an event that could hardly be forgotten-just the thought of it made her feel like she was reliving it, now.
It was a month before her fourteenth birthday. They were lazing about the house after having a full morning of sex-their kind-oral and manual.
They were lying on the floor, nude, when Christine began playfully blowing on Dan's flat stomach. When his cock grew erect, it was no big surprise.
Christine grabbed it in her hand and squealed, "Ooooohhh, daddy-you're hard again."
"I wonder how that happened?" he asked facetiously.
She giggled and kissed it.
"Don't start something you're not going to finish," he admonished.
She giggled again and wrapped her tongue around it. She grinned impishly at Dan. "What if I didn't?"
He folded his hands under his head and said casually, "Then I'd never make you come again."
Christine got to her knees and then straddled Dan's body, pressing his hardened prick flat against his body with her juicy pussy. She began to slide back and forth, the lips of her cunt sliding along the sides of his agitated cock. She suddenly straightened up on her knees letting his stiff cock spring up rigidly.
"Daddy-have we been fucking?" she blurted out.
The question caught him by surprise and he was momentarily at a loss for words. The only thing that could come out of his mouth was an astonished, "What?"
"I asked, have we been fucking?" she repeated.
He finally regained his composure and smiled. "No, baby. We haven't been fucking. We've been making love of a kind-and we've been making each other come. But we haven't been fucking."
"Making each other come-isn't that fucking?"
He realized that she had the meaning of fucking and climaxing turned around. He also realized that she was old enough now, to know the real meaning of the word fuck.
"What we've been doing only leads up to fucking. When a man puts this," and he pointed to his turgid cock, "into this," and he touched her pussy, "then it's called fucking."
Christine grabbed his cock with both hands and squatted her pussy close to it.
"Daddy-fuck me."
"No, honey," he said as he placed his hands on her thighs, holding her hungry little slit away from his oversized cock. "I'm too big and you're too small. You could be hurt for life. I don't want to hurt my little baby. Wait till you're a little older; then we'll see."
"No," she pouted, "I want it now. Please. I'll lower myself down on it and when it begins to hurt, I'll stop. Please-daddy-please."
She began to stroke the sentitive in her hands, sliding the head through the lips of her eager pussy.
"Please-please-pretty please," she continued pleading, as she pressed the head between her spread lips. "Show me how to fuck, please, daddy."
Dan felt the head of his prick disappear into her slippery pussy. He reasoned that if she could accommodate the head, which was already swelled to a huge purplish cap, and which was the widest part of his cock, she certainly would be able to devour at least a few more inches.
"All right, baby-take it. But promise that as soon as you feel it hurt, you'll stop."
"I promise, daddy."
She started moving her little ass around, holding the head between her tender lips, sighing, purring as Dan reached up and began to manipulate her erect nipples.
It was driving Dan mad. He wanted to ram it up into her, but he knew it would tear her apart. He bit hard on his lower lip and refrained from entering into her tight virgin vagina. He would let her do it all-the time would come when there would be no physical restrictions, then he would be able to plunge freely into her tight, hungry, cock-grabbing pussy.
Christine slowly worked down to two inches below the head and was moving her hips around, sideways, back, forward and up and down. Her eyes were closed, her head swaying limply from side to side, moaning, groaning and sucking her lips as she trembled and quaked to the uncountable chills coursing through her body. Her fiery little pussy sucked violently at the thick three inches of cock in her. She sunk another inch of Dan and she yelped in pain, but she didn't back off-she held her ground. She had taken four inches, and knew another three inches remained. She wasn't about to give it up. The pain eased and sheer joy took its place. Her pussy worked, her ass worked, her thighs worked, every part of her strong, youthful body worked-pushing down on Dan's swollen shaft, engulfing it with her narrow churning channel. It was close, her mouth felt dry, her breath seemed to burn in her lungs. She lowered her pussy, feeling her hymen give way, feeling their pubic hairs meet, then mesh.
She screamed in ecstasy. "Oh God-daddy-I'm coming-help me-help me-make me come!"
"Keep moving, baby-keep moving," he coached as he nipped harder at her nipples.
Her eyes rolled. Her mouth opened, gasping for air and her body became as rigid as stone as she pulled her legs together and squeezed his cock. She let out a blood-curdling scream and her whole being froze. Her virginal blood poured out, soaking his massive genitals.
A full minute passed before she moved. Her satisfied pussy contracted, constricting Dan's throbbing penis as it exploded furiously within her. She screamed as Dan jammed his cock further into her twat. She lunged down meeting his seven-inch thrust.
"Oooohhh, thank you, daddy-thank you," she said as her mouth slipped over his prick, cleansing it of her pussy oil and his gooey semen globules.
"Please fasten your safety belts. Please put out all cigarettes. We are starting our descent into Kennedy Airport," the pilot's voice announced over the intercom.
Christine sat up abruptly. She looked quickly at the old man sitting next to her, and he just as quickly turned his eyes away, averting her look. She glanced at his crotch and saw a slight bulge. Then she was aware that her hand was at her crotch again, and he had probably watched her every stroke. She could feel the warm, viscous wetness between her thighs. She knew that he had seen it all. She wasn't the least bit embarrassed, knowing that the old man would never know who she was, unless he saw an Ice Frolics show. She smiled contentedly at the change a couple of thousand miles could bring.
CHAPTER SIX
The icy wind slashed at Christine's body as she stood looking at the billboard announcing the opening of the Ice Frolics the following night.
Madison Square Garden stood before her in all its monumental coldness. She had been ready to storm its doors and shout out Christine Gary is here, make way for the newest star in the heavens. She had been eager to accept her new role, but the bleak New York day, the indifferent New York people, and the lonely atmosphere at Madison Square Garden had quickly extinguished her early excitement.
She walked up to the ticket office and inquired about Jim Fowler. A heavy-set woman peering from behind the ticket window appraised Christine's attributes openly before directing her into the arena where Jim and his assistant were watching a final dress rehearsal. As Christine walked away from the woman, she could feel the woman's eyes fixed to her ass.
She watched for a moment as the extravagantly costumed chorus glided through an intricate routine to the tune of "76 Trombones." The spotlights played a colored kaleidoscope pattern over the chorus, while two amber lights focused on the featured dancer in the number. Christine squinted at the soloist. Her style and figure seemed familiar. She walked halfway down the aisle and stopped. She squinted once again at the spinning soloist, unable to see her face clearly. As the girl pirouetted to a stop, Christine realized why her style looked so familiar-she had skated against her many times. It was Patty Johnson, the girl who had just won the Nationals.
She wondered if Jim had contracted Patty once he felt that he was wasting his time with her. The thought frightened her. She had no place to turn-she couldn't crawl back to Dan-her life would really be unbearable. She would never again go back to the amateur rink.
"Chris!" It was Jim's deep voice, shouting loudly and happily from the first row. He had turned and saw her standing there.
She felt a sudden glow of warmth at the happy welcoming that he expressed as he raced up the aisle, two steps at a time.
He grabbed her and kissed her on the lips, then released her from his bear hug and stepped back to appraise her fully. It made her confidence return completely, to be so well received. She wanted to run into his arms and hold onto him forever.
"Chris, am I glad to see you!"
She glowed. She felt warm all over. She smiled broadly, and then she sighed deeply. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you." He had quickly erased all her doubts, all her fears, all her loneliness.
He took her hand in his and asked, "You alone?"
"Alone."
"Work or pleasure-or what?" he questioned apprehensively.
"Work and pleasure-no what's, iFs, or but's," . she assured him as she squeezed his hand.
He took the small traveling bag that she carried her skates in and led her down the aisle.
"I want you to meet my right-hand man."
The young man stood up as Christine and Jim reached his side.
"Petey Moss, this is Christine Gray."
Petey took Christine's hand tightly. "I can see why you were so enthusiastic about her, Jim. She doesn't have to skate. Just let her stand in the middle of the rink with a magenta spot on her and she'll stop the show."
Christine smiled bashfully, but was happy to accept his flattery. Then she returned some of her own.
"Jim, it's amazing how quickly I've developed a crush on Pete."
"It always happens-Pete's forever stealing my girls," Jim said kiddingly, feinting a left jab to Pete's jaw.
They all laughed, but beneath the laughter, Christine felt an enveloping warmth soothe her worries at Jim's allusion to her as 'his girl.' It would be easy for her to be his girl-he was handsome, personable and successful. Besides, she knew that she needed a man to watch over her, protect her and direct her.
"Let me see the show breakdown," Jim asked Pete, jovially.
Christine watched the rehearsal again as Jim flipped the pages on the clipboard, looking for the likely spot to insert Christine's solo.
"Perfect-we'll put her in right after Jix and Jax," he said, turning to Christine. "How many minutes does your solo run?"
"Three minutes, but I can extend it to five."
"Good-make it five." He turned back to Pete, "That'll give the chorus ten minutes to change into their costumes for the jungle number. Do you have your music; with you, Christine?" he asked.
She opened her traveling bag and brought out a tape and some sheet music and handed them to Pete.
"Get the tape set up and ready for a run through of her number in thirty minutes. Then get Sam busy on the arrangements for the orchestra." Jim commanded.
Pete was on his way as soon as the last words were out of Jim's mouth.
Jim took Christine by the arm. "Let's go see Sadie and have her find a temporary costume for you to wear until we can have one designed especially for you."
As they headed for the dressing room, Christine's head swam with the rapid sequence of events that had transpired in so short a time. She was Jim's girl-she had a solo in the top ice show in the world-she was having a costume designed for her-and she was falling in love with Jim. It was as though she had walked up to the doors of Madison Square Garden and called out, "Open sesame," and the doors magically opened to a new and exciting life.
She didn't come back to earth until she felt Sadie's tape going around her breasts.
"I got just the one for her," Sadie said, as she disappeared among the racks of colorful costumes. In a moment she reappeared, carrying a multi-colored, lace and spangled costume.
Christine sucked in her breath when she saw it. She had always thought the costumes that Dan had made for her were beautiful, but they were bland in comparison to the one that Sadie extended to her.
"Okay, honey, put it on and then come out on the rink. We'll have a run through of the tape for the time being."
He was out of the dressing room before she could express her thanks. She was slipping into her costume, when she heard a familiar voice cry out, "Chris!"
Patty ran to her and threw her arms around Christine, pinning her arms to her side.
"Are you going to be in the show?" she asked eagerly.
Patty released her bear hug and stepped back a foot.
"Yes," Christine answered weakly. She was embarrassed by Patty's display of affection. She remembered how rude she had been the last time they had seen each other. She lowered her eyes and spoke softly.
"Patty-I'm sorry for what I said in San Francisco."
"Forget it," Patty said sincerely, "I know how you feel when you skate your ass off and wind up sucking hind tit. I've wanted to say a hundred times what you said to me when some winner came over and offered their condolences-but I never had the guts."
Christine knew that Patty was sincere and it helped alleviate her embarrassment. She looked into Patty's flashing black eyes and smiled warmly.
"Thank you, Patty."
Patty squeezed her hand and for the first time Christine realized how truly lovely Patty was. She noticed Patti's jet-black hair that framed her milk-white skin-the sparkling big, black eyes-the full, round lips that seemed to pout even when she wasn't trying to be coy.
"Where are you staying?" Patty asked.
"At the Regency."
"Jim arranged for me to sub-let an apartment just two blocks away from the Garden. Why don't you share it with me-there are twin beds and I'd just love to have you as a roommate,"
"But I've already unpacked all my clothes."
"That's okay-stay there for tonight and, tomorrow, I'll help you move-what do you say?"
Christine thought about it for a moment. It would be nice to have someone to talk to instead of looking at four blank walls.
"Okay," she snawered, suddenly enthusiastic about the idea.
They embraced, and Christine indicated her overwhelming excitement.
"Good," Patty whispered in delight.
Christine suddenly moved away and gasped, "Oh my God! Jim's waiting for me to run through my routine!"
She quickly finished putting on her costume and rushed from the dressing room, calling back to Patty as she went. "We'll make arrangements later."
"Good luck," Patty called out as Christine disappeared into the corridor.
* * *
The rehearsal was over, the contracts were signed, Patty was going to help her move the next day, and she was going to dinner that evening with Jim-life couldn't be more beautiful, she thought as the cab pulled up in front of the Regency hotel.
Jim got out and held the door open for her. She felt a tingle as he took her hand and helped her from the cab.
"Eight o'clock." He smiled, then warned her, "I like my girls to be on time."
"I'll be ready," she assured him kissing him with half-parted lips.
He watched with prurient fascination as her ass swayed its way into the lobby of the hotel. The anticipation of a wonderful evening was already building up in him as he got back into the cab.
Christine puttered around the room until she suddenly realized she would be late if she didn't start getting ready. She whizzed through the ablutions, the hair-combing, the agonizing chore of picking out the right dress to wear and the right set of accessories to go with the dress.
She was applying the last stroke of lipstick when she heard the knock on the door. She looked at her watch-eight on the button.
"Damn," she muttered, "does he have to be so punctual?"
She quickly scooped up her conglomeration of makeup and dropped them in the nearest available drawer. She took one last look in the mirror and straightened her dress.
When she had opened the door, she stepped back and whirled around. "See, I'm ready-on time."
He whistled softly. "I'm ready, too," he advised her, giving out a soft wolf whistle. She was stunning in her black, chiffon mini-dress with a sedate square cut neckline. She wore a single strand of pearls around her neck. Her breasts jutted out, free of the confining pressures of a bra. Her breasts were firm-looking beneath the black chiffon material.
She went to him and put her arms around his neck. "Thank you, kind sir, for them kind words." She kissed him gently.
She then stepped back and emitted a soft, low whistle.
Jim smiled appreciatively and said, "I think the mutual admiration society had better beat it to the nearest eatery or we'll wind up eating without any food in sight."
Christine smiled, but could feel her cheeks redden at Jim's observation. She was only too aware how easily that situation could come about. They left the room and went to dinner.
The restaurant was elegant, the food superb, the wine magnificient and the conversation titillating. The had danced, held hands and kissed each other lightly between sips of wine.
The evening couldn't have been more ideal jf Christine had dreamed it up.
As they got into the cab, Christine was fearful that it was at an end but Jim immediately put her mind at ease. He winked at her as he gave the cabbie his address. She snuggled up to him as he put an arm around her, his hand brushing lightly against the side of her breast.
The short drive to his apartment house was passed in silence. She could hear the steady beat of his heart as she leaned her head against his chest. His strong hands, his massive chest, his rugged-looking chest were stimulants to her womanly body.
He held her in his arms and she pressed against him. Her arms wound around his shoulders as the elevator whizzed them up to his penthouse apartment.
She gasped as she entered the apartment. She had never seen a more exquisitely furnished apartment. The subtle, indirect lighting, the tasteful use of pastel colors in the modern furniture, the brilliant colors reaching out from the Picasso, Van Gogh and Gauguin paintings on the wall all left her slightly short of breath. She hadn't even noticed that he was leading her to the nineteenth century love seat in front of the Colonial fireplace. She sat down in a daze, her eyes glued to the flamboyant Van Gogh above the fireplace.
He poured two glasses of Bristol Cream sherry. He handed one to her, then he lifted the lid on the magnificient Garrard console stereo and placed a stack of records by the turntable.
Christine's eyes followed his every movement as though she were hypnotized. She was afraid to breathe, to think-she might wake up and the whole thing would turn out to be a dream.
She had to shake her head slightly to get herself functioning again as he lifted his glass and said, "To us and a beautiful evening-one that is just beginning."
She watched him sip from his glass.
"Aren't you going to drink that?" he asked.
She couldn't speak, she nodded, then absently gulped the glassful in one swallow.
"Pick out some records while I change into something more comfortable-how's that for a switch?" he kidded, leaving the room. She started with Mantovani Strings and placed the others of her choice on the spindle. She tossed off her shoes and waited, curling up on the divan, waiting anxiously for Jim's return.
He was wearing silk pajama bottoms, a waist-length velvet smoking jacket and slippers as he came to the divan and poured another drink of sherry for them. She raised herself to her knees as he sat beside her and they sipped their drinks. He took her glass from her hand and placed it on the huge table in front of the divan.
His arm slipped around her waist and pulled her to him. Their lips met. Slowly she melted into him.
His hand grazed her breast, brushing across the tautening nipple. She squirmed in anticipation.
He pulled his lips away, looked into her half-closed dreamy eyes and said, "Let's dance."
He could have asked her to do anything and she would have done it-fuck, suck, ream, beat-in her cunt-her ass-her mouth-her eyes, ears or nose-anything he wanted, she would do.
He put his arms around her and she ground her hips against his cock. He tongued her ear as they moved with imagined steps in time to the music. Her crotch arched into him as she emitted gasping groans of delight.
She could feel him beginning to stiffen and silently prayed he would hurry-she was in an aching agony. She was in a rutting heat, needing his cock to fill her pussy.
His hand pulled her zipper down the full length of her dress in one easy motion. His hands slipped under her dress to her shoulders, bringing her bodice forward, clear of her body. He dropped her dress to the floor. She stood there bare-breasted.
She stood there for him to drink in her loveliness, her full breasts pointing at him tantalizingly, the stiff, erect nipples beckoning for his mouth.
He wet his lips as she reached out and undid the two buttons of his smoking jacket. She looked down at his crotch and she saw his stiff, enormous cock straining against the confining silk of his pajamas.
In a flash, they were together, their mouths sucking and nipping, their tongues entwined in a love duel. She had his pulsating tool trapped between her delicious thighs and up against her red-hot pussy, moving her ass to get full enjoyment out of his pushing penis.
His hands slipped under the elastic of her panties and pushed them down below the round buttocks as his mouth sucked its way to her aching nipple.
She squealed in delight and backed her ass away from him-she wriggled out of her panties, dropping them to the floor, while she reached out and grabbed his monstrous cock sticking out in front of him. She stroked the length of it and gasped at its magnificient proportions. Her pussy began to hurt, thinking about his huge size.
Her hands pulled the front of his pajamas out to clear his cock as it stood straight out from his body. Her hand dipped in over the top and wrapped around his penis, then pressed it against his belly while she maneuvered his shorts past his rigid cock.
She had to look down at his penis. She had to see it in all its glorious length and nakedness. She gasped at the sight of it. Her hand wrapped around the middle. She noted that her fingers could not wrap all the way around his massive shaft. Her legs grew suddenly weak and she dropped to her knees, pulling her swelling nipple unceremoniously from his suctioning mouth.
He watched as she wet her lips hungrily, and opened her mouth. She gorged in passionate ravishment on his cock. Her tongue explored every blood-filled vein along the way. One hand fingered and felt the full bags of sperm hanging below the enormous cock; the other hand fingered through the thick growth of pubic hair, twirling and tugging small tufts at a time.
Her tongue ringed around the bloated head and dipped into the slit. She moved her tongue with rapid little darting movements in and out of the small hole as though she were fucking it with her tongue. The delightful sensation sent charges through Jim's body.
She, stopped, moved back a few inches, then looked at his pointing cock desirously. She licked her lips. Her eyes were glued to the blood-filled, bursting head. She moved slowly, closer and closer as she forced her mouth open, wider and wider to let his swollen monster find a moist resting place deep within her throat. She made contact-Jim tensed and arched his back. The glans disappeared into her hot, voracious mouth. There was barely room enough for her to ring the head as she moved farther onto his cock. She worked her tongue around and around the massive head as Jim's thighs began to quiver. Gently, hotly, her stretched mouth moved back and forth slowly. Jim could feel the hot, viscous sperm building up a tremendous pressure. With an amazing amount of will power he slipped his prick from her mouth.
She looked up as if her favorite toy had just been taken away from her.
"Not that way baby-not yet."
He picked her up and kissed her tenderly, his cock slipping in between her legs. His hands reached around and grabbed her firmly by the cheeks of her ass. He applied an upward pressure and she wrapped her thighs around his body. She let her weight slip down a little, feeling his cock penetrating the moist, hot lips of her hungry cunt.
He carried her in that position to the nearest armchair, while she kissed and sucked his neck and chest. He put her down and turned her around. His hands reached around, each one cupping over a sensitive breast. He pulled her to him. His cock snuggled along the deep crease between the mounds of her ass. His mouth worked along her shoulders up to her ear. Her body strained back into him. The hot cock along the crease of her ass felt like a fiery branding iron.
"Honey, straddle the arms of the chair," he whispered.
Quickly she turned around, faced the back of the chair and straddled the arms. Her forearms rested on the top of the chair, her legs spread wide and her butt forced up into an inviting position. She could feel the sticky lips of her pussy separate and gape wide open, ready to accept his luscious tool. Her pussy-juices were dripping onto the chair seat.
Jim kneeled on the chair and inched his way up close to her. He pushed his cock down and slid it between her legs as she pressured down on it. She reached down and pressed it lengthwise along her open slit, then moved firmly back and forth against the pressure. Her clitoris rubbed and bounced against the sliding cock. When Jim began to knead her nipples and cover her neck and shoulders with wet, searing kisses, her ass began to move like a piston. They shook as their passions began to build to a fever pitch-their bodies began to sweat freely and made erotic moist noises as each movement created a vacuuming suctioning sound. Christine couldn't stand it any longer-she had to have him in her. She lifted her ass and tried to bend his cock up into her hungry aching cunt, but Jim teased her.
"Not yet baby-not yet," he whispered hoarsely.
"Yes-now-now-I'm ready-I want to fuck!" she pleaded.
"Just another minute or two-it'll be that much better," he assured her and bit into her shoulder.
She cried out and relaxed on his strong cock. She worked feverishly-her ass, her loins, her belly, thrusting against him, trying to put out the fire that burned within her.
He nipped at her with his teeth, his hands pinched, rolled and tweaked her nipples as his cock swelled even more-they were both losing touch with reality in their frenzied fight with lust.
"NOW!" he croaked through his tight, clenched jaw. He lowered himself and she raised her ass, guiding his cock into her clutching pussy. She grabbed the back of the chair to prepare for his invasion. He moved into her wet, hot pussy for three inches, then moved his stretching cock around and around, then back and forth in rapid movements. She tried to move down on it, but he wouldn't let her.
"All of it-I want all of it-ram it home," she screamed.
With a guttural growl, he plunged it in. She screamed in agony, feeling his massive cock hit bottom and his balls slap against her belly. She screamed, again and again, as the pistoning action of his enormous prick slid along the tender walls of her slick vagina. Her pussy was split apart, a searing pain that chafed her pussy-lips. Her orgasm mushroomed outward, making each tissue of her vagina reverberate around his throbbing, huge penis.
"God it hurts ... your cock hurts ... It's too big!"
She passed out at the peak of her orgasm. She was awakened a few seconds later by the jack-hammer thrusts of his cock. She was dizzy, weak, exhausted. As his penis fucked her pussy, she tried to screw in motion with him.
Then, it was happening again. She was rising again-she was soaring toward another orgasm. They scratched and clawed and moved as his penis loomed larger in her exploding cunt.
"Almost-almost," she cried.
"Let it go-let it go," he gasped. And she could feel his head swelling in her, ready to let loose.
His hot balls of sperm bombarded her in massive gushes. Her own passion mingled with his flood as their bodies wracked and shook and tensed at the most glorious peak either had ever attained.
Her body collapsed-every muscle in her body feeling fatique. She slumped limply against the back of the chair, her head buried in her arms.
Jim's meat rested in her flooded cunt. His head rested. He was scarcely breathing. At long last, his prick shriveled up and slipped out of her. He kissed her on the back of the neck. Then wearily he picked her up.
As he carried her into the bedroom, Christine, half awake, half in a stupor, could still feel his penis in her pussy. She was sure he had stretched her out of shape. He laid her on the bed-and she was asleep before her head touched the pillow. He pulled back the covers and slumped down next to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The day was clear and crisp as the slanting rays of the sun warmed the bedroom and awakened the sleeping pair.
Jim's eyes flickered open. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Christine's lovely body. Her lovely golden hair spread across the satin pillow, framing her delicate face in a halo. He hated to wake her from her deep, untroubled sleep. He smiled as she rolled over, exposing her fleshy breasts to the warm sunlight.
He leaned over and kissed her nipple. She stirred. He kissed each of her eyes and they half opened. She put her arms around his neck and snuggled up to him, the warmth of her body almost making him forget the work that he had t do. He pushed her away gently.
"Come on lazy-up-I've got work to do."
"You're mean," she purred.
"I'll show you how mean I can be."
He pulled the covers from her and got out o bed.
She sat up. "You're the most terrible, meanest, ugliest man in the whole world!"
He laughed, throwing the blankets on the floor. "I'll see you in the shower," he shouted, leaving the room.
In a soft voice she added, "But I love you." She got out of bed. Every muscle in her body ached as she walked across the large bedroom to the bathroom.
After completing her douche, she got into the sunken, open shower with Jim. They soaped each other's bodies. Christine lathered his cock. It began to stir. Jim jokingly admonished her for her brazen ways and pushed her gently away from his hard-on. They playfully snapped their towels at each other's buttocks. Christine retreated into the bedroom. She lay down on the bed and looked longingly at Jim.
"Jim, massage me-I'm sore all over," she cooed plaintively.
He looked at her inviting body, spread sensually on the bed and knew better. "Oh, no-walk it off."
"It's your fault that I'm sore, you and that beast you have hanging there. It should be outlawed. It's a dangerous weapon-a menace to womanhood."
"Would you rather I kept it locked up?" he asked facetiously.
"I didn't mean that. I just said it was a menace. Please Jim, massage me, I really am sore."
"Okay," he sighed, "Roll over."
She did. He began to manipulate her tight muscles. She began to relax, the soreness began to dissipate. He did a thorough job from her shoulders to the soles of her feet.
"Now, the front."
He looked at her inviting pussy spread out before him. His cock was beginning to stir.
His hands kneaded her belly. He felt her hand slip around his already rigid cock and begin to work its massaging magic. It was too late-he was hooked.
"You bitch," he murmured lightly, lying down beside her. "You're the menace."
She leaned over and kissed his nipples as she stroked his cock firmly. She let her hand slide the full length of his muscle and he began to quiver. Slowly she trailed her tongue down the center of his body, stoping at strategic points to kiss and nip and suck. His cock grew larger and more rigid in her hand. When her mouth reached a point just above the start of his pubic hair, she switched her body around in a comfortable "69". His hands slipped between her legs and ran along her already moist lips. Her butt began to move to his fingering.
She raised her head and applied her mouth to the swelling cap. She let her tongue travel around the edge and dip into the little slit. She sucked the drops of lubricant that oozed to the taut surface. Her mouth widened and she had the head safely within the confines of her suctioning cheeks. Each time she slid up to the head, she went back down on it a little more. The head was scraping her palate and starting down her throat. She started to gag and decided there was no way in the world she could take it all in her mouth as much as she wanted to. She had to be satisfied with the mouthful she had and let her hand take care of the rest. Her head slid up and down as her hand wrapped around the lower part of the shaft, accompanying her head movement. The other hand fondled his loaded sac.
More and more his hip movements became animated as she increased her activity on his prick. The jism was stirring, beginning to spew out. He grabbed her by the thighs, spread her legs and placed her astraddle his face. His hands grabbed her by the cheeks of her ass and pulled down as his tongue slipped between her lips and attacked her tender clitoris. He could hear her muted sobs as he flayed the taut flesh.
They drove each other closer and closer to an orgasm, he with his face buried deep in her writhing cunt and she with her face impaled on his huge cock.
They ate each other ravishingly, gorging their appetites on the genitals of each other's body. They couldn't hold back any longer, and sure as hell didn't want to.
Christine pushed her cunt hard against his face as her twat exploded. She contracted her box and squeezed his face between her legs, making him dizzy as he licked her pussy-fluids. Her mouth was experiencing what her cunt had the night before. He rammed his cock up as the sperm spurted out in spasming bursts, hitting the back of her mouth and her throat like hot, stinging gushes of oil. She tried to swallow the salty flow, but it was too copious for her and the excess spilled over, out of her mouth and down the length of his cock.
He lay back, spent, her wonderful warm cunt nestled over his face. She milked his cock, savoring every last drop of his life-giving juice. Then she rolled to one side of him, her hand still clinging to the marvelous staff.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Madison Square Garden was packed with first-nighters-celebrities, the wealthy and the patrons of figure skating and ice shows.
The orchestra began the opening overture-a medley of tunes from the show. The entire company skated out of the darkness onto the rink, into the blinding display of multi-colored lights that splashed over the entire skating surface.
Christine stole a quick glance at the seat where she knew that Jim and Pete would be sitting. He was there. Her nervous tension disappeared.
Everything would be all right. She was under the watchful eye of her protector. He would correct her, he would guide her from now on.
The show continued smoothly. Christine had changed her costume and waited, now, for her turn to go on.
When Patty came into the dressing room with the rest of the chorus, she knew Jix and Jax were on and she was next. As she was leaving the dressing room, Patty came up to her and kissed her on the cheek.
"Good luck, roommate," she said.
Christine thanked her absently as she left.
At the entrance to the rink, she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of Jim. She was relieved; he was still in his seat. She relaxed and watched Jix and Jax go through their hilarious antics on ice. She had seen them before, but she still found their clowning extremely funny. The prat slide off the ice from the middle of the rink concluded their performance.
The Garden suddenly went black. The public address system announced to the house that Christine Gray was the next attraction. The orchestra began her introduction number. A magenta spotlight picked her up and she skated to the middle of the rink where another spotlight was focused on her. She went into her routine-all the while wondering if she was pleasing Jim. Her thoughts remained on Jim. Her spins, her leaps, her sitz spins were all for Jim-Jim must be satisfied.
She began her final spin to the accompanying roll of the drums. Suddenly she spread to a jolting stop as the music crashed to the end.
She received a polite round of applause. She recognized it for what it was, and, she was crushed-she felt that she had let Jim down. She skated off the ice as the orchestra struck up the next production number.
She was fully dressed in her street clothes. Everyone had left the dressing rooms except Patty.
"Why don't you go on home, Patty," Christine suggested, "I have to wait for Jim. I have to find out what I did wrong."
"Why don't you come along? Jim isn't going to show anymore. It's opening night-he has friends to talk to-parties to go to. You can see him tomorrow before the show."
Christine knew Patty was right-Jim wasn't going to show. She knew that he wouldn't be there as soon as she had finished her number.
"All right, let's go home," she sighed reluctantly.
They walked to their apartment in silence.
Christine slipped into a short nightgown and then sat on her bed, looking through an old issue of Life Magazine.
"Want to watch some TV?" Patty asked.
Christine looked up and her eyes widened. Patty was standing in the center of the room, nude.
Patty saw Christine's reaction.
"I hate to sleep with anything on-it's too restricting."
Christine was seeing Patty's body for the first time. It was gorgeous. Her breasts were larger and fuller than Christine's-the small tummy was meant to fit perfectly into a man's palm. The black pubic hairs glistened. Her long trim legs were straight and lithe-looking. The skin over her entire body was milky white, making her nipples look even pinker than they were.
"Want to watch some TV?" Patty repeated.
"I don't care," was Christine's indecisive answer.
"Ah-there's nothing good on anyway." Patty grabbed a Playboy magazine and hopped into bed.
Christine leafed through the pages of Life and really couldn't get interested. She dropped it to the side of her bed and, lying down, stared at the ceiling.
Patty looked through the copy of Playboy, but she was more interested in Christine. She kept looking over at Christine, trying to think of some way she could cheer her up. She tossed the magazine aside and went over and sat on the bed with Christine, facing her.
"Hi, roommate," she smiled.
"Hi, roommate," Christine answered weakly.
She felt like she had been kicked in the stomach and she really wasn't in the mood for any conversation.
"Want to talk?" Patty asked, crossing her legs.
Although she smiled, Christine really wasn't in the mood for talk but she was intrigued by the luscious pink pussy winking at her. She wasn't sure if Patty pointed it at her by design or by accident but in any case she had to force herself to look away.
"I know you want to help, Patty, but honestly I just don't feel like talking-I'm too up-tight," Christine said miserably, and turned her head away.
"Momma Johnson has the cure-all for tightness," Patty said as she started to lift Christine's short nightgown over her head.
"What are you doing?" she asked as the tops reached her shoulders.
"I'm going to massage you-I have the best set of hands in the U.S. including Hawaii and Alaska," she proudly announced. "If my hands can't loosen you up, then rigor mortis has set in."
Christine couldn't keep from smiling, but she was sure even that would be of no use. "It's no use-I'm just down-that's all."
Patty wouldn't take no for an answer. She persisted, "Oh, come on-let me try-after all what are roommates for?"
"Oh-all right-it certainly can't make me feel any worse than I do," Christine sighed. She let Patty take the tops off. She lay there with only the very sheer panties between her and complete nudeness. Patty began to knead her tense shoulder muscles. Christine began to feel relaxed under Patty's skillful hands. Patty then got on her knees and leaned over Christine to get more weight into the manipulation. As she leaned forward, her full breast brushed Christine's nipple. It sent a slight chill up Christine's spine, causing her to emit a little gasp, and although it was purely accidental on Patty's part, it didn't escape her attention. It happened again. The contact was firmer and more pronounced and Christine's reaction was more sensuous.
Christine's response gave Patty the courage to become even more bold. She lay down beside Christine. She rested her hand on Christine's tits.
As she massaged the shoulder muscles, she could feel the nipples becoming taut, and Christine's body beginning to move uneasily.
She moved her head close to Christine's ear, breathing warmly into it. Christine squirmed. As Patty continued massaging one shoulder with one hand, the other slowly made its way down to Christine's breast.
She had the nipple in her fingers before Christine put her hand on Patty's hand.
"No-Patty, don't-please don't," she said with difficulty and without much conviction.
Patty ignored the plea and kneaded the nipple more vigorously-she had committed herself physically and emotionally-she couldn't turn back now.
"Relax, Chris-I'll be tender," she assured Christine, as her tongue dipped into her sensitive ear.
"Ohhhh," Christine moaned from the combination of Patty's tongue kissing her ear and the busy fingers on her excited nipple.
Christine squirmed under the dual eroticisms and mustered what little will power she still had.
"No ... no ... no...." she said, but her voice was breathy and then tailed off to silence as Patty ignored her. Patty kept her fingers busy and her mouth moving over Christine's face with little tonguing kisses.
Christine's attempt to stop Patty dissipated into a rising desire for the young and sensuous animal that was stirring her libidinous coals.
Christine's hand slipped limply to her side and allowed Patty free rein. Patty stopped massaging. She moved her full lips to Christine's mouth, brushing her lips lightly with her own wet pouting lips. She moved her body against Christine's and rubbed her black-haired crotch against Christine's thigh.
Patty knew she was home free-she could feel Christine's body begin to quiver under her expert attention. She straddled Christine's thigh and moved her own leg up to the moist cunt that waited expectantly. She slid up and down, agitating her own hot pussy and Christine's. Her mouth wandered its salivary way down the neck, across the shoulder cavities and to the firm, full tits with their protruding pink nipples. Christine moaned aloud as Patty's wet sensous mouth encircled her proud tit. Patty's tongue laved around Christine's areola. Christine put her hand to Patty's head and pressured her down on the suckled breast. Her passion-filled groans were music to Patty's ears and she tried to get the whole tit in her mouth-she couldn't, but it drove Christine into lust-filled tremors.
Both of their asses were thrashing with animalistic fervor-thigh against pussy-pussy against thigh-driving each other's hot, wet pussy-lips to indescribable pleasures. They drove each other on and on.
"Faster-faster-rub my cunt faster! Make me come-make me come!" Christine screamed out.
Their sweating bodies slammed against each other, the suctioning sounds harmonized with their wailing moans and groans. Christine clawed at Patty's back and cried out like a banshee as she exploded. Patty's body went tense and she bit Christine's tit violently.
Christine lay back limply, the only sound in the room as their labored breathing.
Christine felt like she could sleep for three days. Patty was already back on Christine's tit-the tip of her tongue flickering over the still taut nipple.
Christine was exhausted. She wanted Patty to stop, but it felt too good. She closed her eyes and decided to let Patty have her fun.
It surprised even her when she felt the shocks begin to quiver her body, and her pussy begin to itch from the tongue lashing she was getting on her breasts. Patty had moved her body between her legs and her voracious mouth was sucking its lecherous way down to her cunt, while the greatest hands in the U.S. remained to fondle, knead and taunt Christine's bursting nipples.
Patty's face rested in the blonde pubic hair as she brought her hands down, letting her fingernails drag across the exposed nerves of Christine's body.
She shuddered violently and spread her legs wide, inviting Patty's wonderful mouth to wrap around her stiff, waiting clitoris.
Patty didn't waste a minute in accepting the invitation. Her hands went to the cheeks of Christine's ass and lifted, while her head slipped down between her legs and forced the swollen lips apart with her tongue.
Christine's ass circled rapidly as Patty's suctioning tongue and mouth attacked her clitoris. Her clitoris was mashed between Patty's full lips, being rolled .back and forth, worked in and out, and buffeted by her flickering tongue.
Christine writhed and groaned under the onslaught. Her passion-wracked body pushed into Patty's face. She wanted all of Patty's magnificent mouth in her crying cunt.
"Get it all Patty! Suck my clit out by the roots! Get it-get it!" Christine screamed, trying to bring about her orgasm faster. The tremendous surges that shot through her body and bit at every nerve were driving her insane.
She pleaded frantically, "Make me come-make me come-Oh, God-please make me come-I can't stand much more." Her body convulsed uncontrollably.
Patty grabbed the clit between her teeth and held it firmly as she moved her head back and forth.
The pain and the bliss combined to sweep Christine into an abyss of sheer madness. She dug her hands into Patty's head and pushed it into her fiery cunt as her body arched up. The fires of hell had been loosed in her and it didn't seem like she was ever going to stop coming.
Just as fast as she had skyrocketed to agonizing ecstasy, she had plummeted down. She collapsed into a dead faint.
Patty lifted her head from the wide-open pussy and looked up at Christine's inert form. She kissed her tenderly on each swollen cunt-lip and smiled contentedly.
"I knew it would be like that, baby," she said to Christine's unhearing ears.
After covering Christine, she got into bed and thought of the preceding events as she masturbated herself to sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
The following week was both heaven and hell for Christine. She was either on the crest of happiness or in the pit of despair. She had been skating her heart out for him, but the audience response was still polite but cold-Jim's reaction was the same. When their paths would cross, he would greet her politely and perhaps indulge in some small talk, but there was no warmth-no cheerful talk-no help. It was employer and employee, nothing more.
She wanted so much for him to tell her what she was doing wrong-how she could fulfill the promise that he had seen in her. She knew Dan would-why didn't Jim. She couldn't understand it-her problem gnawed at her insides.
She had willingly placed her future-her love-her soul in his hands, and he was shunting it aside like a worn-out overcoat. She knew she couldn't take much more of his polite formality-but neither did she know what she could or would do about it.
Patty provided what little happiness there was in her present life. She was warm and understanding to the desperate emotional upheaval which she was experiencing. Patty catered to her sexual needs.
The sexual relationship had blossomed just as their friendship had. The former relationship was now a mutual thing. They performed cunnilingus reciprocally. Their lovemaking was a nightly ritual-and event that each of them looked forward to-Patty, because she was deeply in love with Christine, and Christine because she had been rejected and needed love.
They served each other's needs and brightened each other's lives. It was a delicate balance.
When Christine was told that Jim wanted to see her in his office, her heart almost stopped beating. She rushed there, unable to stop her head from swimming, her heart from pounding against her chest like it was trying to break its way through her warm breast.
Jim rose as Christine entered his office apprehensively and sat down.
She smiled nervously as Jim asked how she was feeling.
It was obvious that he was not his usual relaxed and confident self. He had to perform a distasteful chore and it bothered him. When he offered Christine a cigarette it was only another effort on his part to postpone the inevitable.
"I don't smoke." Christine reminded him.
"I'm sorry, I forgot," he apologized, smiling uneasily.
How could he forget so fast, she wondered. Didn't that night mean anything to him-maybe she had made more of what was just a night in the sack with another girl to him. It couldn't be. He had hinted that she was different than the rest. But he did have the reputation of being a fast man with his zipper. Why did she have to fall in love with him-why did she have to give herself to him? The thoughts raced through her numbed brain.
"Christine...." She heard Jim say, and she snapped out of her thoughts.
"I'm afraid the show is running too long-I'm going to have to cut your number," Jim continued, and, now that he had said it, he seemed relieved-as though a ton of weight had been removed from his chest allowing him to breath again.
Christine's fingers dug into the arms of the chair and she fought to keep back the tears.
"You're letting me go?" she asked, her voice quivering with the emotion growing in her.
"No-you have a contract and, of course, I'll honor it, but I'll have to move you to the chorus to fulfill it."
The words pounded against her ears like small sledge hammers. She couldn't believe what she was hearing-relegated to the chorus. She was going to take the world by storm and she couldn't even hold a five minute spot. If she weren't so completely miserable now, she would have found it grotesquely funny. But now she didn't want to laugh-she wanted to cry-she wanted to be rid of the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Why?" she managed to stammer past the enormous lump that had grown in her throat. "Why? I did my best-I did everything to please you-every movement was for you-I wanted you to be proud of me-I was your discovery-I wanted you to boast of it-what am I doing wrong?"
Jim pounded the desk angrily with his fist arid got up. "Everything's wrong! I don't want you to skate for my pleasure-forget about me-forget about everyone-become a selfish cunt-skate for yourself-live for yourself!" He spit the words out angrily-like a series of sharp left jabs to her psyche.
The dam broke, the tears were flowing freely as Christine ran from the office.
She skated in the chorus that night. She skated by rote, unfeeling and numb. Her mind stopped functioning-everything was a hazy mist. Figures appeared in front of her, but they were formless blobs and when she spoke, it seemed like it was coming out of another body-one that was detached from hers.
As she lay in her bed after the show, she stared blankly at the ceiling, her tortured mind fighting a battle with her emotions. Tears welled up in her eyes, as her despairing sobs echoed throughout the room.
Patty couldn't stand it any longer. She got into bed with Christine, snuggling close to her warm but unresponsive body.
"Chris, honey-why don't we both quit and put our own act together. We can call it Chris and Pat-or Twit and Twat-I'll be twat." She looked to see if she was getting any reaction. None. "Ah, honey, don't let that bastard get you down-you could piss on better men than he'll ever be."
Patty's words were bouncing off an impenetrable wall. She put her hand along the curve of Christine's breast and put her lips against Christine's neck. A tender kiss. No response. A tongue slid along the tendon of Christine's neck. No response. Her hand moved full over the tit and her tongue dipped into the hollow above the collar bone. No response. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger while she tongued the curve of Christine's breast. Nothing. Her forefinger traced a line down to her belly button, while her mouth moved to the nipple and tongued it. Goose bumps appeared on Christine's smooth body and her stomach twitched a little. Patty increased the activity of her tongue on the nipple, encouraged by the sign that she was breaking through. Her fingers left the navel for the lush pastures of her pubic hair. She fingered through the soft hair. Christine's ass and tummy began to move, almost imperceptibly. It delighted Patty-Christine was beginning to come around. Patty nipped at the tautening nipple as her finger slipped out of the hair and followed the ridges of the meaty cunt-lips.
Christine's movements became more pronounced, her breathing became more rapid and deep as Patty's fingers spread the moistening lips and delved into the warm recess of pink flesh. The telltale gasps delighted Patty as she rolled the clitoris in her fingers and her mouth formed a smoothly sucking bellow on the luscious tit.
Christine lifted her ass slightly and worked against the caressing fingers at her clit. She pressed Patty's head against her breast, trying to put the swelling globe deeper into that succulent mouth.
Involuntarily her legs spread, her passions rose and she forgot Jim, and skating, and Dan; the whole outside world-the consuming desire had taken over and everything else in the world could go straight to hell. Coming was all that mattered-rising to the heights of passion was all that there was to live for.
She strained and moaned and groaned and pushed against Patty's educated tongue and fingers. Higher and higher she began to go.
Patty moved between her legs and moved her mouth wetly down Christine's convulsing body, stopping at sensitive areas to suck in mouthfuls of willing flesh.
Christine's legs and knees went up and out as Patty's tongue reached her beckoning lips. The tongue slid up and down one eager lip and then the other, but never entered the crack. The inflamed pussy snapped at the evasive tongue, trying to capture it between the hungry lips, but it was futile.
"Don't tease me Patty-don't tease me. Make me come! Go in and take me! Suck me dry!" she pleaded.
Her pleas were ignored, Patty kept up the tantalizing tonguing at the entrance to the deep well, but deliberately refused to go in.
It was driving Christine up a wall. She kept screaming, "Go in-go in!" over and over, as she clutched at Patty's head, trying to force her in.
Suddenly, Patty left the agonized, fiery cunt and stood up.
"NO!" Christine screamed. It was as though the world had been pulled out from under her.
"I'll be right back," she assured Christine. She ran to the closet as Christine sunk her own fingers into her aching twat and attacked the clit, trying to get off.
In a moment Patty came out of the closet, wearing a huge dildo. The ersatz cock swayed from side to side as Patty walked quickly to the bed and clambered between Christine's ready legs.
She grabbed the stiff rubber cock, already slick with a thin layer of vaseline. To Christine, it felt very much like the real thing-in her aroused state anything long and stiff between her legs would have felt like, a cock.
She guided the large head to her clitoris and mashed it back and forth against the agitated little bud. It lifted her back up to the heights, as Patty looked on in delight.
"Lay back, baby-let momma do the work," Patty ordered lovingly, and Christine was quick to comply.
Patty took over. She raised Christine's legs and entered into her aching cunt. She pushed and the cock shoved deeper into the cavernous depths of her aroused pussy.
Her hungry cunt contracted and released the stiff thing in her. The dildo drove onward and upward. She wrapped her legs around Patty's back and pleaded. "Ram it in all the way! Stick it in up to the hilt!"
Patty grabbed the working cheeks under her and lifted them up as she rammed her own body forward sending the dildo crashing into the unfathomed depths. Christine screamed out in ecstasy. Their perspiring bodies slammed and twisted against each other, sending explosions of joy through Christine. In and out-around and about-side to side-faster and faster, Patty moved the probing cock into Christine's seemingly unquenchable lust. The orgasm was welling up-ready to explode.
"Jam it-ram it-smash it-deeper deeper-make me come-make me come-fuck me-fuck me-now-now-now-I'm coming-I'm coming-Christ keep it working!" Christine's ass was almost a blurr. It was moving and gyrating rapidly. She squeezed Patty so tightly with her legs that Patty had to force air into her lungs. Christine let go with a tortured wail and forced her body back on the bed, arching her crotch onto the big cock in her. A rapid sequence of spasms and Christine was done. Her limp body slipped off the still ready dildo and sank into the soft mattress.
Patty quickly slipped the contraption off and snuggled beside Christine, her hand resting lightly on the tender heaving tit.
"Did momma make it all better?" she asked as though Christine was a ten-year old. She was actually four years younger than Christine, but she was definitely the protector.
Christine floated on a fleecy cloud-reality was lost in a hazy, gossamer limbo. "All better mommy-all better," she answered in a low, far-off voice, then she drifted into a contented sleep.
Patty covered her and got into her own bed. She lay awake far into the night, trying to reach some decision as to what to do about Christine. She was fully aware that the situation would get much worse before it got any better. How much worse, she didn't know-that's what frightened her.
She knew in her heart that she was only a passing fancy-a substitute for the real thing. She wouldn't be able to keep Christine from suffering a complete mental collapse with her tongue and a phony cock.
The dilemma tortured her until she finally was relieved by falling into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER TEN
Four more days in the chorus-four more days of seeing Jim but not talking to him, and even Patty's tenderness-her tongue and dildo could not bring any response from Christine. Patty's worst fears had become manifest.
Christine was wallowing in the depths of self-pity. It came very close to being emotional masochism. The inhumane way in which Christine was torturing herself was too much for Patty to bear and she did the only thing she thought might help-she made a long distance phone call.
Patty had absented herself from the apartment on the pretext that she had some shopping to do.
Christine was lying nude on her bed when she heard a light rapping on the front door. She listened, thinking it might be her imagination.
It came again-a little louder.
She got out of bed and slipped into her terry cloth robe as she went out of the bedroom and walked to the front door.
The rapping became louder and more insistent.
"Keep your shirt on-I'm coming," she called out in agitation.
She opened the door tentatively and saw Dan, a huge smile splitting his face. Her mouth dropped in surprise as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.
The initial shock was over and Christine screamed, "Dan!" She threw her arms around his neck-her robe flew open allowing her bare body to press against him as she smothered his face with kisses.
She finally released him and stepped back to drink him in, not caring that she was exposed to his adoring eyes.
"Oh, Dan-it's so wonderful to see you!" she squealed delightedly.
There was still someone who cared-someone who loved her-who wanted her-wanted to care for her-watch over her and guide her.
"What are you doing in New York?" she asked. "Patty called me and told me everything."
She ran into his arms and felt the security there-it made her feel that warm glow again-made her feel like she belonged to someone again.
"It's all right baby-it's all right."
"Oh, Daddy, take me away from this awful place."
"I will baby. I should have come right after you when I read the note you left me. But I wanted you to learn a lesson. We need each other-you don't function without me beside you-and I don't feel alive without you to fill my life."
"I learned my lesson, Daddy," she pouted and then asked, "Where are you taking me?"
"To Aspen Colorado-you're not an amateur anymore, so I spoke to the owner of the hotel, who's a friend of mine and we're both going to be figure skating instructors there."
"It sounds wonderful, Daddy," she purred as she pressed her body close to his.
"I've also sent a letter to the amateur federation requesting a hearing to try and reinstate you as an amateur."
"Do you think there's a chance?"
"A very good one. My baby is still going to win the National Championship for me-isn't she?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy-I will-I will!"
Their mouths met and they kissed hungrily. The long-suppressed passion in him stirred, and she could feel his cock begin to stiffen. He moved away.
"We'd better start packing-the plane leaves in three hours."
She moved back in close to him and put her hand tenderly on the bulge in his pants.
"There's time for my Daddy to massage his little baby-isn't there?" she asked, her eyes watching the bulge forcing the cloth farther away from his body.
"There's always time for my baby."
He pulled her to him and they kissed greedily. Her hand, encircling his big cock, began stroking smoothly.
As soon as they entered the bedroom, Christine dropped the robe from her shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed, his erect cock level with her mouth. She zipped his fly down and pulled out his pulsating prick.
The head was an inch from her mouth as she looked up. He was looking down at her-waiting-anticipating the first entry into her lovely mouth.
"Isn't Daddy going to take his clothes off?"
"Sure, honey," he said and threw his suit jacket to the side.
He started unbuttoning his shirt as Christine's mouth went over his straining head. His body quivered at the shock of warm, wet contact.
He fumbled with the buttons-they were suddenly too large for the holes. He couldn't wait-he pulled each side of the shirt and the buttons popped in all directions.
He unbuttoned the one button of his pants and they dropped to the floor as Christine reached up and hooked her fingers into the elastic top of his boxer drawers and pulled them below his cock.
One hand fondled the well-filled sac, while the other guided his rod back into her mouth. Her warm saliva clung to his prick as she moved slowly back and forth over his swollen muscle. The head struck the back of her mouth, and she contracted her throat muscles, milking the sensitive cap.
It had been awhile since Dan had shot a load and he was ready. His cock began to dance spasmodically in her mouth as the jism rumbled its way to the opening.
She felt his shaking and increased the sucking motion until Dan exploded into her gaping mouth. The force of the initial blast almost stunned her, but she held her ground and took jolt after jolt of the hot sperm without spilling a drop from her mouth-she took it all, savoring every drop. She milked his cock and sucked at the opening like it was a straw and there was something blocking the tube keeping the salty jism from reaching her eager mouth.
When she finally let go of his half-limp dick, he slipped to his knees weakly directly in front of her.
She laid back and brought her feet up to the edge of the bed, at the same time spreading her knees.
Her beautiful moist, pink pussy, staring at him in all its loveliness, was more than Dan could stand. In spite of his weakened state, he plunged his face into her and his tongue pounced all over her clitoris, sending Christine into ecstatic gyrations.
"Suck it daddy-suck it!" she exclaimed rapturously. "It's been so long."
He went at the clit with a vengeance-almost an unconscious desire to show Christine what she had been missing and what she would miss if she ever left him again.
His tongue worked magically and smoothly as she rose in her frenzy until she jammed her crotch into his face and let loose her pent-up anguish. She squirmed and squirmed, trying to get every last bit of joy from his laving mouth.
She got it all and relaxed. Dan stood up and looked at her beautiful body.
"I hate to rush you at a time like this, but we have a plane to catch."
She stirred reluctantly, then got up with Dan's helping hand. He kissed her gently.
"Let's shower and pack."
"All right Daddy."
They showered, packed and left.
When Patty got home, the apartment was empty. She felt a big aching void cover her.
She read the note that Christine had left and her eyes filled with tears. She loved Christine with a tender, unselfish love-a love no man could ever give her. She had done what she thought was best for Christine and, now, she was alone.
She clutched the letter to her breast and cried uncontrollably.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dan and Christine had separate rooms in the hotel, more for appearance than convenience. They spent almost every waking hour together-and most of every night. Their lustful excursions into the world of sex were wild, uninhibited, frenetic, frenzied and varied. Christine thrived on it-she even enjoyed instructing, now that her life seemed renewed. She attacked each day with a verve that had been totally lacking a few weeks ago.
The clean, invigorating air stimulated her-she put her full energy into everything-instructing, skating, dancing, skiing, hiking, and sex.
Sex-it was almost synonymous with her life-she had known sex since she was thirteen years old.
She had always been more than satisfied with Dan-she was still satisfied with Dan. A strange uneasiness stirred in her. She hadn't known anyone in bed but Dan until Jim and Patty had come along. They had opened a latent Pandora's box in her, and now she knew that she could be satisfied by someone other than Dan-or was it just a phase she had gone through?
She had to know the truth-she had to quell the uneasiness by learning if it was only a passing phase, or if she needed variety and would have to spread her legs for whomever or whatever came along.
Those were her thoughts as sixteen-year-old Connie Burkhalter skated up to her. She was to be Christine's first pupil of the day.
Connie was of German extraction and her parents were stiffly polite. Christine was sure that they had imposed the strictest regulations on Connie, but even their Teutonic background and moralistic preachings hadn't stifled Connie's effervescence and warm personality.
Her lush and firm titties stood straight out as she bubbled up to Christine, her long golden hair shimmering in the bright sun and her lovely lavender eyes sparkling. She looked adorable in her bright red skating costume.
"I'm ready, Chris," she said in her throaty voice.
Christine looked at her and thought, "You sure are, honey-you sure are."
"Want to say good morning first?" Christine asked pointedly.
Connie shrugged her shoulders, causing her titties to move up and point invitingly at Christine. "I'm sorry-I'm just so anxious to get started," she apologized, as she blushed slightly with embarrassment. "Good morning, Chris," she continued brightly, without drawing a breath. "Good morning, Connie." Christine put her arm around Connie's back. "Let's skate in tandem for a while to loosen up the sleepy muscles."
"Okay," Connie readily agreed and put her left arm around Christine's back. They clasped hands and began to skate in time to Christine's humming.
Connie slipped slightly and Christine's hand came in contact with Connie's breast as she kept her from falling. When they continued skating, Christine kept her thumb against the round fullness in the sweater.
Connie's tit was delightful-full, ripe and firm. Throughout the lesson, Christine managed to sneak feels of the young girl's magnificent boobs. She had even become so bold as to put her hand full on one of those globes and its fullness and firmness took Christine's breath away.
When Connie skated away after the lesson, she marveled at the young girl's innocence. She had at times almost openly copped a feel and Connie had never noticed.
The rest of the morning was uneventful-she had instructed a gabby old dowager who she was sure wanted to get into her pants-a pimply-faced young boy who wouldn't know his pants from hers-and a dirty old man who kept rubbing his limp cock against her leg.
She had a delightful lunch with Dan on the veranda of the hotel, and then they rode the lift to the top of the first ski run.
Sandy Jorgenson greeted them.
Sandy could be classed as a Greek god, except for the fact that he was born in Norway. He had been a member of their Olympic team before he turned into a ski bum. Albeit, a highly successful ski bum. Women would have an orgasm if he just looked at them-and therein lay the secret of his success.
"Are you going to try the slope today," he asked.
"No-we just wanted to try the view before going back to work," she smiled in answer to his question. Dan looked on jealously-competition from anyone who looked like Sandy was unfair.
Dan didn't want to leave Christine's side for a moment when Sandy hovered over her like a huge cock ready to dive at his prey, but Dan, suddenly, had no choice. It was either go to the men's room or piss in his pants. He cursed the beer as he left them and tended to nature's call.
Sandy was quick to take advantage of the opening. "You have no lesson at four?" he asked.
"Why?" she questioned suspiciously.
"I would like a lesson."
She laughed lightly. "You? Why you've been on skates and skis all your life."
"Yes-but I not figure skate-I want to learn," he said seriously.
"You really do?" and she searched his eyes for the truth.
"Yes." he answered.
She believed him-besides what could happen on the rink with people surrounding them.
"Okay-I have no lesson at four."
"Good-I see you then," he said as Dan came out of the rest room.
Sandy bid them good-bye and returned to his pupil, a fat middle-aged lady who smiled covetously at him as he got to her side. She looked like an overly packed sausage in her ski suit. Sandy winked over the fat lady's shoulder, and looked helplessly to the sky.
Christine giggled at his reaction and it disturbed Dan.
"What'd the ski bum have to say?" he asked disdainfully.
"He would like lesson," she mimicked, "He want to become figure skater."
"You're not going to give him lessons-are you?" he asked apprehensively.
"Why not?"
"Why not?" he repeated. "Because he only wants to get into your pants-that's why not!"
"So what?" she asked. "So do all the rest of my pupils, except for the pimply-faced kid and little Connie Burkhalter."
He eyed her a moment and then came to a conclusion. "The rest I don't worry about. Him, I do. He might just get in." He said the words bitterly, almost angrily.
She knew that he was throwing Jim and New York at her-perhaps even Patty. She suddenly wondered if Patty had told Dan about them as well as Jim.
She smiled wickedly-"He might."
Dan was so mad, he couldn't speak.
"Let's go," Christine, said casually, "I've got a lesson in ten minutes."
Dan followed her to the ski lift, and they started the descent to the hotel.
She thought about what she had said to Dan.
She knew that she hadn't meant it at the time-she was just being bitchy. But now that she thought about it rationally, she knew that there was a distinct possibility that Sandy could get into her pants-if he played his cards right-if he said the right words. The thought appealed to her more and more. She had to find out the truth about herself-could she fuck for other men or was she a one-man woman?
Why not begin with Sandy? He was handsome, strong and probably built like a bull. She smiled to herself-it was beginning to feel like she was going to get into his pants-not the other way around.
When they reached the bottom of the lift, Christine took Dan's hand and reassured him that nothing would happen and apologized for being such a bitch.
He kissed her on the cheek and all was forgiven.
Christine taught skating lessons the rest of the afternoon with her mind looking ahead to four o'clock. Doubts were beginning to creep in. Would she or wouldn't she? The war went on. The battle lines were drawn. On one side, she knew that she had to either quell the uneasiness gnawing at her loins or give into it completely-on the other side, she knew what it would do to Dan if he found out she was being promiscuous.
The confrontation was upon her-the battle was enjoined. Sandy was there at four o'clock.
When she took his hand to lead him through a figure eight she knew that Sandy was going to make out like gangbusters. She felt the little impulses shoot through her body-she felt the sensual itch begin to gnaw at her pussy.
She had to refuse his invitation to dinner, because it was a nightly ritual with Dan, but she didn't refuse his invitation to don snowshoes and hike through the mountains and have a picnic at the line cabin that was nestled between the two highest peaks in Aspen, Colorado.
She was famished as she and Dan sat down to dinner. The dinner conversation was light-all hint of the tension between them that afternoon was gone.
Dan happily informed her that the federation hearing would be soon, and that they had been most encouraging in their correspondence.
Christine had overeaten. The wine made her sleepy.
She apologized and asked to be excused when Dan suggested that they go to the lounge and dance. She was really tired and sleepy-tired and sleepy enough to forego sex.
That convinced Dan. He kissed her goodnight and went into the lounge to drink some wine.
Christine had finished her nightly makeup removal chores and sat on the bed reading, her back resting against the headboard. She wore only a pair of sheer panties and a short peignoir tied loosely by a pink ribbon at her throat. It flared open, leaving half of each breast exposed.
There was a light tap on the door.
Christine looked up, startled. She knew it wouldn't be Dan-and she didn't think that Sandy would be foolish enough to come to her room.
"Who is it?" she called out apprehensively.
"Me, Connie," answered the throaty voice.
Christine got out of bed and pulled her peignoir about her as she went to the door.
The door was opened and Connie, entered the room sheepishly.
"I'm sorry to disburb you, Chris-but my parents went to the movie and I'm not supposed to be out past ten-I've been watching TV and I'm bored silly. Can I talk to you for a while?"
"Sure," Christine said and smiled.
She jumped back into bed, allowing the peignoir to spread once more, revealing her breasts. She patted the bed with the palm of her hand, inviting Connie to join her.
Connie was wearing a tight T-shirt and no bra. The lovely tits strained against the thin cotton and the nipples were taut from rubbing against the material. Christine wet her lips unconsciously as she looked at the lovely globes protruding from the girl's chest. The tight, thin shorts which she wore had crept up and delineated the line of her slit. There was no sign of panties beneath the shorts.
Connie went to the bed and slipped out of her sandals before sitting down and crossing her legs under her. Her position caused the hems along each thigh to leave a gap between the material and the bronzed flesh.
Christine could see the soft, blonde hair in the dark recesses of the shorts as Connie sat facing her.
"It sure is a drag not being allowed out past ten," Connie complained.
"I can imagine," Christine sympathized, her eyes fixed on Connie's wide-spread crotch.
"When you were sixteen-did you have to be in by ten?"
"No-but then Dan-Mr. Connors was always with me."
"Didn't you ever go out with boys?" Connie asked incredulously, as though the prospect of such a thing occurring would be a fate worse than death.
"No-I was much too busy practicing, traveling and competing to have time for boys," Christine said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice.
Connie shivered her shoulders dramatically. "Wow-what a drag. I don't think I want to be a figure skater if I have to give up boys. I like kissing too much."
Christine laughed lightly, wondering if Connie meant only kissing or all else that can go with it.
"I'll bet you have a lot of boyfriends," she said, looking directly at Connie's luscious tits.
"Do I ever," she thrilled as she pulled back her shoulders, making the lovely globes leap forward to strain against the thin cotton. "I have to confess," she continued as she looked down at her boobs, "these titties sure attract them."
"I'll also bet you're a big tease," Christine said, leading Connie on, trying to get her to talk about her relationship with boys and wondering how far little Connie had allowed boys to go.
"Sometimes I tease-sometimes I don't," she said impishly. "It all depends on how much I dig the guy I'm with."
"How far do you go if you dig the guy?"
"Well-I'm still a virgin, but I don't know how much longer I can hold out. Bobby-that's the boy I'm kinda' dating steady now-he sure knocks me out. When he sucks my titties and plays with my pussy-boy I just want to lay down and let him put it in me-but he's so big it scares me." ' Christine untied the ribbon around her throat allowing the peignoir to fall open, baring her breasts to Connie's beholding eyes. The short discourse on Connie's affair d'amour had set Christine's pussy twitching.
"Doesn't he want more? When a man gets excited he has to have relief or he gets an awful ache in his groin."
"Oh, I make him come-either by pumping him between my legs or jerking him off," she assured Christine. The tone of her voice was knowing-she wanted to make sure that Christine knew she was a woman of the world.
"Is he the only boy who's caressed you?" Christine wanted to know, as the itch in her snatch got worse.
"No-I've gone as far with a few other boys-but-" she smiled mischievously, "I let most of the boys play with my titties-it feels so good." She squirmed at the recollection, at the same time tugging at her T-shirt.
"Does the shirt itch?" Christine asked.
"The stupid thing is so tight it mashes my boobies flat."
Christine's eyebrows arched at that remark, if those tits stuck out like that when they were being mashed, how the hell would they look without the shirt on. She had to find out.
"If it's uncomfortable-why don't you take it off?"
"May I?"
"Sure."
And please hurry, Christine thought. She was beginning to drool in anticipation of those firm titties being out in the open.
In a flash, Connie pulled the T-shirt over her head and threw it on the nearest chair.
It was true-those tits were being mashed in the confining cloth. Now that they were free, they jutted up and out-two perfectly formed twin mounds. The nipples, taut and ripe from the agitation of the cotton shirt.
"Those are the most beautiful boobs I've ever seen," Christine said as she wet her lips.
Connie's pink pussy twinged and she stuck out her chest proudly as she said, "Thank you."
"I envy the boys who had those beauties in their mouths.".
"Do you really?" Connie could feel the nipples tauten and her little pussy begin to moisten.
"Really," answered Christine, her eyes focused on the appetizing globes aimed at her.
Connie got to her knees and crawled alongside Christine, who was leaning against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of her.
Connie lowered her round rump back on her heels, bringing her titties level with Christine's mouth. They looked into each other's eyes a brief moment, then Connie moved forward, bringing her tit close to Christine's mouth.
She licked her lips, let her mouth open partly and swooped down on the pink, taut nipple. Her mouth opened and swallowed all the firm flesh it could, while her tongue flicked rapidly at the hot, swollen teat.
Connie moaned in delight, while her hand clamped on Christine's head, mashing the mouth against her aching tit.
As Christine's mouth worked the lovely tit, one hand moved up Connie's thigh and fingered its way to her crotch where it massaged the hot pussy with slow, firm, back and forth movements. The other hand found the zipper, pulled it down and slipped in to fondle and knead the firm, rounded cheeks.
Connie's passions were rising fast. She moved her ass in unison with Christine's massaging hand at her hungry little cunt. Her groans became more rapid and breathy as Christine's hands went to the top of the shorts and snaked them down to Connie's knees. Christine leaned forward slowly, bending the young girl back, back until she was lying dowm Connie kicked her shorts off as Christine's hand went back to her moist,'begging cunt.
Christine's mouth sucked and nipped, never allowing a second's respite to the beleaguered titty, while her hand slipped into the tight, warm virgin pussy, searching for and finding the stiff clitoris.
Connie's fresh young body was whipped around like a belly dancer as the sucking mouth and rolling fingers sent shock tremors shrieking through her tortured senses.
"I told you I like to have my titties sucked," she gasped in agonized tones.
Christine lifted her head from the hot saliva-soaked tit long enough to say, "That's not all that's going to be sucked, you hot-pussied little bitch!"
"Oooooohhhhh-" Connie groaned in delighted anticipation as Christine's mouth sucked its way across her quivering belly and came to rest on her curly blonde bush.
She moved between the girl's legs and they spread eagerly, ready to accept Christine's hot tongue. There was no hurry, so she didn't plunge right in. She let her tongue ride the ridge of the soft moist lips.
The sweet virgin aroma mixed with the passion juices excited Christine more than usual as she sucked into her mouth the fleshy lips, tonguing each mouthful.
Connie was in a state of frenzy-her loins, her ass quivered and contracted and convulsed. She begged for more.
"Oh fuck-fuck-make me come! Suck my cunt and make me come! Eat it up-eat it all up!" She screamed, over and over, as she pressed her angry cunt against Christine's sucking mouth.
Christine spread the hot, wet lips and went in, her tongue making straight for the eager clitoris. Connie almost catapulted off the bed when Christine grabbed the little prick between her lips and pressed it and rolled it.
It didn't take long. It was more than Connie could take for long. She arched into the shape of a rainbow as the orgasm swept through shuddering body.
"You cunt-you fucking cunt-you motherfucker-you cunt-lapping fucking cunt." She screamed in ecstasy as the explosion surged through every tingling fibre. Then she dropped in a heap.
Christine slowly kissed her way up Connie's relaxed body until their mouths met. The kiss was gentle. A peck on the eyes, on the nose, on the cheeks. Christine moved her tongue along the outline of Connie's lips, then she sucked gently on each lip, as she moved her crotch against Connie's. The lush, golden bushes mingled and they could feel the heat of each other.
Christine was still aroused and Connie was coming back up. Christine pressed her cunt tighter against Connie's awakening pussy. Their mouths met in a hungry, probing kiss. Their tongues entwined and explored as their tits mashed against each other, taut nipples embedding into each other's flesh, sending pulsating shivers through them.
Christine ground her cunt into Connie, faster and faster, harder and harder-one pink lustful pussy slammed against an eager virginal hole.
Their passion-filled moans and groans harmonized in a symphony of orgiastic fury.
Their hands fondled and mauled and kneaded. Their bodies slammed and pounded and writhed and ground into each other. They fucked without a cock, but they didn't notice the difference. They were in the middle of a twister being whirled up into the heavens-on the tail of a rocket aiming for the moon. They exploded as one-their arms and legs entwined, their bodies meshed together-they clung to each other with abnormal strength. Animalistic growls escaped their lips as they spewed forth their released emotions. Together they floated down from the starry heavens on a billowy cloud and were deposited back on the bed.
They lay in each others arms for an eon before Connie had the strength to move.
"I better go-my parents might check in on me."
She got up and put her clothes on while Christine lay on the bed, watching the lovely body.
Christine, still nude, got out of bed and walked to the door with Connie.
"Can I visit you again?"
"We'll see," Christine answered and kissed Connie lightly on the mouth.
"Next time I'll make love to you-all right?" Connie asked and smiled brightly.
"We'll see," Christine repeated.
Connie leaned forward and kissed each of Christine's nipples. "Good night, Chris," she blurted out and was gone.
Christine got into bed and snapped off the light. In the darkness, Christine had one answer to the question involving the uneasiness that centered between her legs. Patty hadn't been a passing phase-an interlude in her time of need. She knew now that she liked to make love to women and have women make love to her. Tomorrow, when she was with Sandy, she would know the rest of the answer-would Sandy be only the third of many men to savor the fruits of her passion?
She smiled to herself-she was fairly sure she knew the answer as she fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The insistent ringing of the telephone finally woke Christine up. It seemed as though she had just fallen asleep as she reached wearily for the receiver.
It was Sandy.
She sat up alertly and apologized for having overslept. After promising she would be downstairs in twenty minutes, she leaped out of bed, took a quick shower, dressed and joined Sandy in the restaurant in exactly twenty-three minutes.
She assured him it was a record as she sat down to a breakfast of juice, eggs and coffee. The second cup of black coffee finally unfogged her brain and they left the restaurant.
As Sandy strapped the loaded pack on his shoulders, Christine asked at the desk if Dan had come down to breakfast. He hadn't. She wrote a note, detailing her plans for the day and left it with the desk clerk.
As Sandy handed Christine her snow shoes, she noticed, for the first time, the huge pack.
"What do you have in there? Provisions for a week?" she asked.
"Walking in snow-make you hungry," Sandy pointed out. "I have chicken, cheese, French bread, fruit-much of each and two bottles chianti."
"I couldn't eat that much in three days," she laughed.
"You see-you be more hungry than you think when we get to cabin."
They went out into the crackling cold morning. The sun shined brightly in the cloudless sky, its brilliant rays bounced off the white snow causing them to squint. Once they had donned the anti-glare goggles, they walked to the ski lift that took them-up to the highest slope. A t-bar took them up another five hundred feet, where they took off their skis, put on their snow shoes and began the trek to the line cabin.
The view was breathtaking as they looked across the valley below. The chalets, lodges and hotels nestled in folds of pure white; tall, stately pines were dressed in mantles of fluffy down. The untrod snow glistened with a kaleidoscope of sparkling colors as it reflected the sun's rays. It was so quiet and serene and beautiful and peaceful that Christine could feel tears welling up in her eyes.
Every once in a while a snow squirrel would skitter up to them, curiously wiggle its tiny nose and then scamper off, its furry tail beating at the air.
They entered a small saddle between two pine-covered peaks and sat to rest on a huge boulder.
"It is beautiful-yes?" Sandy asked.
"It's breathtaking," Christine answered and raised her face to the warm rays of the sun, breathing deeply of the cold, crisp air.
"It remind me of Norway. Whenever I feel-how do you say? Sick for home?"
"Homesick," she said, supplying the word with a warm smile.
"Ya-homesick-I come up here and I feel good."
Rested up, they continued up the snow-covered slopes. As they reached the top of a sharp rise, Sandy pointed and said, "There it is."
The log cabin, nestled in the protecting bosom of a reverse escarpment, was surrounded by snow-laden pine trees.
It was much larger than Christine had anticipated. Six wooden bunk beds lined one side of the large main room. In the center of one wall was a huge open fireplace, with a large leather couch in front of it. To the right of the fireplace a door led into a small bedroom with a double wooden bed. The main room had plenty of furniture, including a rough dining table. There was enough wood stacked along the walls to keep a roaring fire stoked for three weeks.
Sandy placed the pack on the table, zipped out of his windbreaker, pulled off the heavy patterned sweater and slipped out of his ski pants, revealing a pair of bermuda shorts underneath. He opened the pack, pulled out a pair of sheepskin-lined slippers and put them on.
"You set table and I will make big fire."
She watched him a moment as he expertly went about the task of building a fire from scratch.
Off came her windbreaker and sweater. She dug into the pack and spread the tablecloth across the rough table surface. As she spread the food on the table, the aroma of the food titillated her senses.
"You were right, Sandy."
He looked up as the first flickers of flame began to rise and the smell of burning pine started to permeate the room. "I was? About what?"
"I am absolutely famished. I hope you brought enough food."
He laughed. "Just like I tell you-huh?"
"Just like," she agreed and went back to her work. Sandy fanned the fire with a piece of cardboard and it sprang to fiery life. He went to Christine as she was searching through the pack. "What you look for?" he asked. "I think you forgot to bring silverware and glasses." she said as she dropped the pack to the floor.
"I don't forget," he said as he walked to the cupboards beside the sink. He opened a drawer and took out silverware. He opened a cupboard door, revealing glasses, cups and dishes. He opened the rest of the cupboard doors and she saw that they were filled to brimming with canned food and bottles of brandy.
"This is emergency cabin. If people caught in snowstorm, they stay here-plenty of food-plenty of wood. When storm stops-they go. The hotel pay for it."
"That's marvelous. I imagine many lives have been saved."
"Many. Even I use it one time in storm."
He put the silverware and glasses on the table and opened a bottle of wine as Christine set the knives and forks.
The fire was roaring and the cabin was warm, the sound of crackling logs danced through the air, as they sat down to eat.
"Why you don't get comfortable?" Sandy asked.
"I am comfortable."
"You be more comfortable with ski pants off. It make your stomach free to eat more."
"I didn't have your foresight. I haven't any shorts to put on."
"You don't need shorts. Put on my sweater." He handed her the sweater. "Go-put on sweater-go in bedroom."
She took it and walked hesitantly to the door.
"Go on-put on sweater," he ordered.
She went in as Sandy poured wine in their glasses. The sweater hung loosely to the middle of her thighs, the sleeves extended six inches past her fingers, and her body was lost somewhere in the midst of that expanse of wool.
Sandy roared with laughter as she flapped the loose ends of the sleeves in the air. She joined him.
"It's going to be a little difficult eating," she pointed out amid the laughter.
"I fix." He rolled the sleeves above her wrists and they sat down to eat.
The long hike and thin air had combined to give her a ravenous appetite. She didn't think it possible but they finished every morsel of food-and she more than held up her end. One bottle of wine was finished with the meal. The other was opened as they sat on the couch in front of the crackling fire.
"You have good time?" Sandy asked as he gave her a glass of wine.
"Marvelous," she cooed, as she stretched, causing the sweater to hike up, allowing Sandy to see her soft "V," covered only by the sheer white panties.
She brought her feet up on the couch and curled up contentedly. She was exposing her whole luscious bottom and didn't give a damn. She was full and warm and happy.
Sandy slid next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She put her legs over his and snuggled against his chest. His free hand came to rest on her leg an inch below her crotch. He made little circles on the inside of her thigh with his forefinger and she started to purr.
Her eyelids felt heavy as she lifted her face to meet his lips. His tongue darted into her opening mouth and searched every crevice. When she started to move her ass from the growing intensity in her loins, Sandy put the palm of his hand over her smoldering cunt, and she pushed it up to meet him.
He massaged her twat through the sheer cloth as she wriggled her ass to get the full effect, while their tongues and mouths sucked with spine-tingling results.
She pulled off the bulky sweater, allowing her naked tits to absorb the heat of the fire.
Sandy's mouth immediately zeroed in on the luscious tit winking up at him. He nibbled on the taut nipple as Christine squirmed in his lap.
She could feel his hardened cock, pressing against the back of her thigh. She moved her leg and reached eagerly for the swollen muscle. When she grabbed it in her hand, she felt a slight twinge of disappointment as she realized she was meeting a smaller member of the prick family. It was only half the size of Dan's cock and less than that of Jim's. But she shrugged it off-not everyone was as big as Dan or Jim, she surmised. She began to stroke it, thinking, "What the hell, a cock is a cock-if he knows how to use it-we'll make out fine."
She unzipped his fly and pulled it out-it was even smaller than she thought. It was no more than four inches from balls to tip, but it was thick to her; that was some consolation.
Her box was red hot-anything rammed into that ravenous cunt of hers would do the trick, the way she felt.
She wriggled and squirmed as his hand, rubbing against the material of her panties, caused a searing friction and the heat only made her pussy ache more for a fuck.
He lifted her off his lap and put her in a kneeling I position, her back to him. Quickly his pants flew off and he moved in behind her on his knees. His thick cock slipped between her legs, pressing the material of her panties into her slippery slit.
She wondered why he didn't pull her panties off and ram his stubby cock home.
A hand cupped over each throbbing tit and he pulled her back into him, as the hands massaged and rolled the nipples. His hot mouth laved her neck, shoulders and ears. She was going out of her mind waiting for that cock to ram into her and send her soaring.
Slowly he bent her forward, his mouth traveling down her back. His hands kept up the sensitive manipulation of her tits, while his cock continued sliding back and forth-on the outside of her inflamed pussy.
His hands left her tits when she rested on the arm of the couch. His cock backed off and she felt her panties being taken off.
At long fucking last, she thought, he's going to stick that thick, stubby cock in me-probably from behind so he can get every inch in.
She felt his mouth sucking the cheeks of her ass, his fingers tracing the deep crack between the cheeks. His hot tongue roamed the firm flesh, drawing strange patterns in saliva as his fingers massaged the puckering rosette. Millions of sharp tingles raced up and down her spine as his tongue dipped in at the top of her cleavage and began to lick downward, closer and closer to her pink anus. He reached it with his tongue and she forgot about his cock-the titillating tongue flicking at the rosette sent overwhelming shocks to every nerve in her body. She felt his strong hands spreading her cheeks, the thumbs forcing the tight muscle of her anus to open as his tongue forced itself into the opening.
She pushed back ecstatically-it was driving her up a wall-she wanted that hot tongue in her ass.
He forced it in, all the way-and while his lips worked wetly about her rosette, his tongue reamed her. It slid back and forth, around and about-she contracted the muscle, working it about the tongue-she shivered and shook and groaned as the tongue and lips worked her to a fever pitch.
Abruptly, he left her with a slurping sound. She cried, "No," in anguish as the loving tongue left her tight hole.
His tongue was replaced by the stubby cock. The strong thumbs once again forced a small opening and he pushed the head in. She screamed in agony-it felt like he was splitting her in two.
She tried to move off the impaling cock, but the strong arm around her middle held her on it. He moved slowly, back and forth-and slowly the pain left and was replaced by delirious joy-he moved in more-it hurt, but not as much as before. Again he moved slowly back and forth until all the pain was gone, and she groaned with the pleasure being stuffed into her ass.
He grabbed her by the hips and with a mighty lunge, plunged in all the way.
Her screams of pain filled the cabin, but he held her tight, not moving-waiting until the pain subsided. It finally did and he began to stroke-long, easy, full strokes. Christine's ass began to move with his and his fingers went into her dripping cunt to tease her clitoris.
The pure bliss of having that thick cock sliding in her ass was indescribable.
Her body was building rapidly to an orgasm. Their sweating bodies worked at a blurry pace. In and out his thick hot cock raced, around and around his fingers worked on her clit. She strained and huffed and puffed in her frenzied desire to reach a climax. She loved it-every blinding, flashing fucking minute that his thick prick fucked her ass.
A blinding flash enveloped her. He drove into her and stiffened. His hot thick come spurted up her rectal passage and she screamed in agonizing delight as the viscous sperm flooded her insides.
"Oh, that fat beautiful cock-that fat beautiful cock," she screamed as her orgasm trailed off and she sunk forward, Sandy riding her down, his cock remaining buried deep in her ass.
They lay in that position, Sandy on top of Christine, until his prick shriveled out of her ass. He rolled over. She snuggled up close to him and they fell into a well-deserved sleep.
When they awakened, the wind was howling like a pack of hungry wolves, whipping the snow into whirling sheets. It was impossible to see twenty feet outside of the window.
Christine slipped into her panties and put on the sweater, while Sandy donned his bermuda shorts, shirt and slippers. They looked out the window.
"I'm frightened," Christine admitted.
Sandy put his arm around her, "No need to be frightened-this cabin good and strong. He have plenty food and plenty wood. When storm finish-we go down." His strong arm around her and his reassuring words calmed her.
"How long do you think it will last," she asked.
"Maybe few hours-maybe all night. It hard to say."
"Is there any way I can let Dan know that I'm all right? He'll be worried sick."
Sandy laughed uproariously.
She smiled, but didn't know why. She couldn't imagine what she had said that was so humorous. "What's so funny?"
"You funny. You think we lost in wilderness. You want to talk with Dan-you use telephone." He continued laughing as he pointed to the telephone in the far corner of the room.
She looked sheepishly at the phone and started laughing lightly herself, as much from his great amusement as form her own embarrassment. She had been a little dramatic-too many late, late shows on TV had left their mark.
"Well-we could have been cut off from the outside world. It happens you know," she said dramatically in her defense.
Sandy stumbled weakly to the couch, the more she spoke-the more he laughed. He plopped on the couch, his sides beginning to hurt from the laughter. A pique of anger had started to grow in Christine, but his hearty laugh was contagious-she was laughing almost as loud as he as she went to the phone.
Nutty Norwegian, she thought as she waited for the operator.
Dan got on the telephone.
"Hello," Dan said, his voice tight and edged with anger.
"Dan-I just wanted you to know that I'm safe. I'm at an emergency cabin in the mountains and I'll have to stay here until the storm blows over."
"That's great-just great. I suppose that fucking Norwegian has been all over you like an octopus!"
"Stop ranting like an outraged husband! I'm a big girl now and I can take care of myself!" she shot back angrily.
"Sure you can! Just like you did in New York! What do you want to do? Become a common slut?"
"All I want to do is let you know that I'm safe-I don't want to discuss my morality over a party line! Good-bye!"
She slammed the receiver into the cradle and walked back to the couch, shaking with anger at Dan's cruel attempt to make her reswallow the bitter memory of New York.
She sat on the floor beside the couch, her head resting on Sandy's chest.
"He is mad?" Sandy asked.
"So am I!" she answered, mentally pitting her anger against Dan's. "Who the hell does he think he is? Fuck him! Let him stay mad!" she spit out her anger in those few words and relaxed, the anger easing out of her.
Sandy's fingers combed through her soft hair and massaged her head lightly. She purred at the soothing effect, a great sense of well-being enveloped her.
Her own hand slipped under Sandy's shirt, her nails scraped lightly across his well-muscled abdomen. She let her hand follow the soft fuzz downward until she reached the top of his shorts. He sucked in his flat tummy. She slipped her hand past the tight beltline and continued down to his awakening cock.
Her fingers explored the soft, curly pubic hair. He shifted his position. His prick was within easy reach of her searching, fondling fingers.
She let one finger circle lightly about the fat head of his stubby prick.
When he unzipped his fly, she moved the thick muscle to the opening, wetting her lips as she did.
Her mouth was opening to accept the fat head, when the front door flew open. The howling, cold wind blew swirls of snow into the room along with four cold people.
Sandy quickly shoved his ready cock back into his shorts and zipped up as the door slammed shut.
They rose pleasantly to greet the unwelcome drop-ins.
The two men, Carl and Daryl, were thirty-year-olds. The two girls, Ruth and Rena, were in their early twenties. Ruth was a short-haired redhead and Rena was a long-haired brunette. That was all that could be seen at first observation--their bulky clothes hid whatever other virtues they possessed from view.
They had been cross-country skiing when they were caught by the sudden storm. They recounted the story as they stood in front of the roaring fire, trying to drive the cold from their frozen bodies. They gulped the brandy that Sandy poured for them and the warmth of it spread through their bodies, allowing the aching and cold muscles to loosen and respond to the warmth.
They shed their outer garments and lazed around the fire, absorbing its welcome heat.
"You must be starved," Christine said, felling a little stupid for not having thought of it sooner.
"Famished," was the unanimous answer.
The girls thought Christine looked darling in the sloppy sweater and they sought their boyfriend's sweaters-not bothering to go into the bedroom to change.
Their attributes were no longer a secret-both girls were stacked. Sandy beheld their charms with prurient appreciation-so did Christine, but not quite as obviously as Sandy.
Although the meal came from cans, their hunger changed the normal staples into a gourmet's delight. Even Christine gorged herself again-she hadn't realized how hungry she was until she sat down at the table. The workout she had gotten from Sandy's thick penis and the long, hard day had made her unusually hungry.
It was black outside when they finally finished eating. The screaming wind had picked up in intensity, the snow slammed against the windows in sheets, but the warmth of the cabin gave them all a feeling of secure contentment.
As they retired to the couch with a fresh bottle of brandy, Carl and Daryl decided that they, too, should be comfortable, so they stripped down to their thermal long Johns.
Sandy and Christine snuggled up on one side of the couch, while Carl and Ruth snuggled up on the other side. Daryl spread out on his back on the huge, bulky coffee table in front of the couch as Rena sat on the floor beside him. It was a picture of romantic contentment. A roaring fire-the snow and wind kept safely out by the sturdy cabin-warm brandy to fire the insides-and men and women giving pleasure to each other.
As Daryl stretched his arms, his back arching on the hard surface of the table, he sighed, "Oh boy-a little sex now would make the day complete."
"Don't let us stop you," Carl encouraged.
"Be our guest," Christine excitedly chimed in.
"Yeah-yeah-a little entertainment for our hosts," Ruth suggested.
Christine moved her mouth to Sandy's ear and asked, "You don't mind, do you?"
Sandy slipped his hand up the loose sweater and fondled her breast. She smiled.
"You don't mind," she said and let her hand rest on his limp cock.
Rena faced the people on the couch and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen-I will perform a feat of magic never before witnessed in a cabin in a howling snow storm." She unbuttoned Daryl's underwear and pulled out his limp prick. "Before your eyes," she continued, "I will transform this limp hunk of meat into a stiff, rigid, belching monster-and my fingers will never leave my hand."
The audience applauded and shouted, "Hear-hear!"
Rena cupped the hanging balls in one soft palm, while she worked the soft meat in her other hand. It stirred-the blood flowed into the cock, it jerked bit by bit to rigid attention. It swelled to eight full inches in her deft manipulation. She wrapped her fist around the stem, holding it like a torch, showing one and all the results of her magical feat.
As she bowed to thunderous applause, she posed a question, "Now, that I've created the monster-what do I do with it?"
Daryl was panting anxiously as he blurted out, "It's a serious problem. I think you should take it into your head and digest it a while."
"That's it," she exclaimed, "Excuse me folks while I chew on the problem."
She faced the throbbing staff, opened her mouth wide and swooped down on it, engulfing the head and four inches of cock in her luscious, siphoning lips.
It set the mood for all-lust permeated the air. The animalistic odor of passion hung like a pall.
Christine had Sandy's cock out and in her mouth before it was fully hard. But it grew rapidly in the warm sucking mouth. She thrilled as the blood pumped into the organ, swelling it to its full thickness. She felt a sense of power.
Daryl emitted deep guttural sounds as his cock spurted its life giving juice into Rena's eager, sucking mouth.
Carl and Ruth were stripped naked as Christine came up for a breath of air. She caught a glimpse of Carl's massive cock as he dove into Ruth's wide-spread cunt. His face was lost in the enveloping lips. She looked quickly to the coffee table and saw Rena straddle Daryl's face, his cock still in her mouth.
A little "69" to perk up the digestion, she thought-and the thought excited her. Her cunt itched for a hot tongue in it.
The thought was still in her mind as she ran her lips down the length of Sandy's cock. She was able to get it all in her mouth, while her tongue extended and licked at his balls. His legs and ass quivered, as the raptures of her mouth and tongue spread through him.
Christine felt a hand at her inflamed cunt. She knew it wasn't Sandy's. Both of his hands were busy pressing, rolling and fondling her tits.
She felt hands pulling her panties off and she lifted her ass to make it easy for whomever was doing it, at the same time she slid down to bring her pussy within easier reach of the invader.
When she felt a hot mouth at the entrance to her cunt she had to look-she had to know who belonged to that hot, wonderful, suctioning mouth.
She looked and saw Ruth's red hair bouncing between her legs-her legs spread wider so Ruth could get at the little nub that was waiting eagerly.
They all sucked voraciously, hungrily and brought about a climax like a chain reaction, their moans bounced around the room with the ferocity of the howling wind outside.
Ruth quickly switched her position and gobbled Carl's eight-inch tool into her mouth, as Carl lay back savoring the delightful hotness chewing on his dick.
Sandy had spent his load in Christine's mouth and relaxed against the arm of the couch while Christine looked for new worlds to conquer. She saw one. Ruth's ass was up in the air as she bent over sliding up and down on Carl's tool. Christine bent over, grabbed Ruth by the thighs and pushed her mouth up into the lovely cunt, savoring her love juices. She had the clit pressed between her lips when she felt Sandy's thick cock nosing around at her ass. She spread her legs wide and felt that thick extension force its way in-the pain was momentary and caused her to bite Ruth's stiff clit, bringing a cry of pain. The pain disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, and she squirmed her ass getting every thrill she could out of that pulsing prick in her rectum.
The orgasms came in rapid succession, more wild, more convulsive that the last. They all went limp in a heap of smoldering, moldering, limp meat.
Daryl and Rena had been forgotten, they had gone on their merry way-their faces buried deep in each other's crotch, bringing on climax after climax and now they, too, came up for air.
They looked at the mass of tangled bodies-limp cocks and oozing pussies.
"What's the matter, kids-didn't you like the show?" Ruth asked as she feigned a deep hurt.
"If there's one thing I can't stand it's an unappreciative audience," Daryl chimed in with mock anger.
"Let's see if they're still alive." Rena suggested. They got off the table and went down the row of bodies. Lifting a limp prick and letting it drop-sticking a finger in a wet cooze to see it there was any reaction.
They looked at each other.
"We going to let them cop out?" Daryl asked.
"Fuck, no," Rena responded.
"You take them two," Daryl suggested, pointing to Sandy and Christine, "I'll take these two lumps."
The two of them went to work, fondling, kneading sucking and tonguing the spent foursome until the banked fires began to burn again.
Well into the night, the compatable sixsome partook of each other-in pairs and en mass. They fucked, sucked, ate, and felt one another until there wasn't an ounce of strength left in them.
The last thing Christine decided before she collapsed into a sleep-was that she was definitely not a one-man woman or a one-woman woman-she belonged to the world of cocks and cunts. Huge pricks and gaping cunts floated in a never ending parade as she dreamed the night away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The new-found friends bade each other farewell after promising to get together often for an evening of fun and games.
As they made their way down the gentle slopes, Christine kept wondering how Dan was going to react to her flagrant disregard for his feelings.
She was grateful for all he had done for her, but she could no longer content herself with just his cock-she knew that she had to have others-many, many others and he would have to know the truth. That would be the most difficult thing she'd have to do in her whole life ... to look into Dan's eyes and tell him that she could go on skating for him alone, but she could no longer go on fucking for him alone.
She fervently wished there was some way to postpone the moment of truth, but she knew there wasn't.
The moment was fast approaching. Dan was waiting on the veranda as she and Sandy walked briskly toward the hotel.
Dan glared at Sandy as he said good-bye to Christine.
When Sandy was out of earshot, Dan grabbed Christine by the arm.
"Come to my room. I want to talk to you!" he said in a low, intense voice.
She jerked her arm out of his grasp, "We'll go to your room and talk, but you don't have to lead me. I know the way!"
"Miss Gray-Mr. Connors," they heard a voice call as they crossed the lobby. It was Mr. Cornwell, the manager of the hotel. He walked up to them, and, after inquiring of Christine's well-being, he asked Christine if she would perform an exhibition the following Saturday to kick off Snow Festival Week.
Dan assured him that she would be only too happy to do it. She resented Dan answering for her-a deep, burning resentment, but she said nothing, not wanting to cause a scene in the lobby. It could wait until she got up to his room.
She slammed the door shut behind her after they were in Dan's room. Dan had meant to rage at her, but she beat him to the punch.
"Don't you ever answer for me again!" she began. "If I want to put on an exhibition-I'll do the answering-not you! I might just have plans to get fucked Saturday afternoon!"
Dan's mouth dropped open. He tried to speak and all that came out was a series of 'buts."
"And don't interrupt," she continued. "Now-before you ask what happened at the cabin-I'll tell you. Not only did I fuck Sandy, but two couples dropped in on us and I fucked them, too! Men and women! From now on, if you want to get your ashes hauled you stand in line with the rest-is that clear??" She didn't wait for an answer, she stormed out of the room, again slamming the door behind her.
Three times during the week, Dan came, hat in hand, seeking equal time, but each time Christine was busy. One night, Connie was ministering to her needs, eating Christine with her soft full lips just as Christine had done for her.
Another night, Sandy was there for a repeat trip up her juicy bunghole. But she forced him to eat her and put his short stump in her cunt before she would let him get his pleasure from her tight ass.
Another night she had decided the boy with the pimply face needed a good sucking to clear up his complexion, so she maneuvered him into her room and raped the poor kid. She sucked his long skinny prick until it was dry, they she straddled him and rode it until he passed out.
She lay relaxing on her bed the night before she was to give the exhibition when there was a light knock on the door.
She wondered if the old man with the limp cock was coming calling. The thought amused her as she opened the door and let Dan in.
He seemed distraught. She softened a little and allowed him to stay. He explained that one of his shopping center developments was running into a little financial trouble, that he would have to leave for Denver early in the morning.
She wished him God speed and said good night. He didn't leave. He shifted nervously, like a young boy on his first visit to a whorehouse.
"Now, what is it?" she asked impatiently.
"I want you-I need you. It's been over a week. Can't you forgive my stupidity?" he pleaded.
She looked at him. He suddenly looked like a tired, old man. Dan-her strength-the man she loved-the man she worshipped-the man she obeyed without question-stood before her begging for a piece of pussy. She wanted to laugh, but couldn't-the long years that had passed were still too much a part of her. She felt pity-compassion, now, for the shell of the man she had loved and revered.
She slipped out of her robe, lay back and spread her legs. "All right, Daddy. Come and get it. A little going away present for you to take with you to Denver."
The flush returned to Dan's face, his cock snapped to rigid attention and he was out of his clothes almost in the wink of an eye. He dove headfirst into her moist, gaping cunt. She gave him a night that he would long remember. She had his cock in every hole that she could find-her cunt, her ass, her mouth, her ears, her nostrils, in her armpits-she even tried to bore a few new ones.
Dan left her room on extremely shaky legs.
Saturday was a perfect day, crisp and clear. The sun beat down and warmed the crowds gathering for the day's festivities. Every available bench was in use. People sat on the tops of cars and buses.
As Christine watched from the sideline, a young couple gave an exhibition of figure skating in pairs. They were good and received a fine hand in spite of the fact that they had missed a number of steps and had taken a spill. It didn't matter-the crowd was there to have fun-not to judge finesse or technique.
The small rock combo played a medley of tunes and then the announcer introduced Christine. The combo swung into the intro of the music she had discussed with them. She readied herself and pushed out on to the ice, making a swift circle of the rink. She built up speed and zoomed into a flying leap. She heard the crowd gasp-it was the highest she had ever left the ice and the best leap that she had ever done.
The wind whipped through her hair and moped at her face with frosty fingers.
A realization battered through-Dan wasn't watching-Jim wasn't watching-there were no judges watching-she didn't have to please any of them-only herself-only herself-it echoed in her ears.
She thrust herself forward-she felt free and loose and powerful. Her skates flashed, her body arched and spinned and leaped-she threw out her prepared routine and improvised wildly, savagely.
Jim's words echoed in her brain-forget about me-forget about everyone-skate for yourself-live for yourself-become a selfish cunt.
It all crystalized. She was practicing what he preached and she was skating as she had never skated before.
The ovation was deafening.
Mr. Cornwell ran up to her out of breath.
"Miss Gray-never in my whole life have I seen a more magnificent exhibition of figure skating! Sandy ran up to her.
"Christine-if I live to be one hundred-I'll never get bigger goose bumps."
She, had arrived-she knew it and every mother's son who watched her knew it.
The Ice Frolics, New York Office, told her the show was in Chicago. That was all she needed to know. She was on the next plane.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jim Fowler was busy at his desk when the door to his private office flew open. A very nervous young thing preceded Christine in.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Fowler, but I told her that you were too busy to see anyone," she blurted out on the verge of tears.
He assured her it was all right and she left the office.
Jim rose and smiled at Christine. He looked quizzically at her, there was something different but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"Aren't you gong to offer me a chair?" she asked.
"By all means," he offered as he pointed to a leather arm chair beside the desk.
She crossed her legs as she sat, deliberately exposing her scantily covered crotch.
"How have you been?" he asked as he sat down and lit a cigarette. The glimpse of her soft "V" distracted him, it forced his mind to wander back to that one wonderful night they had spent together.
"Wonderful," she smiled in answer to his question. "
"Are you visiting in Chicago?"
"No." She answered coolly.
Her aloofness intrigued Jim. She wasn't the same girl he first talked to in that hotel room in San Francisco. He was anxious to know why she was in Chicago.
"Am I supposed to guess?" he asked.
"No. I left New York without having fulfilled my contract with you. I'm here to meet my obligation."
He was shocked. "You mean you're willing to go back into the chorus?"
"I didn't say that. I want my five minute spot back-just for tonight." It wasn't a request, it was a demand-said as a prelude to a following and more important sentence.
"I can't do that," he protested.
"Yes, you can-because you know and always knew that hidden inside of me was a star of the first magnitude. You'll give me the five minutes-then we'll tear up the contract and draw up a new one."
"What about a rehearsal?"
"No. You still have the musical arrangements-give them to the orchestra-I'll do the rest." She rose, so did he.
"Now, if you'll excuse me Jim-I have things to do."
As she opened the door, Jim stopped her.
"Chris-Is Dan with you?"
"I'm alone-and that's the way it's going to be from now on. You once told me to be a selfish cunt. Well-the biggest one you ever laid eyes on is going to stop your show tonight."
Jim sank limply in his chair as Christine floated out of the office.
Christine found out where Patty was staying from the nervous office girl.
Patty's eyes bugged open when she saw Christine standing in her doorway.
"Hi, roommate-aren't you going to ask me in?"
Patty threw her arms around Christine and pulled her into the room. Tears welled up in her eyes as she kissed Christine on the cheek. "Oh, Chris-I'm so happy to see you! I've been sick wondering where you were-how you were."
Christine returned the embrace and the kisses. She held Patty's trembling body next to her and soothed her. "Relax baby-I'm going to be around for a long time."
They walked to the couch and sat.
"You're not coming back in the chorus-I won't let you," Patty said with finality.
"No, honey-my chorus days are over. Tonight I'm doing my old five-minute spot-tomorrow I'll be the star of the show. I've already seen Jim."
Patty's face was wreathed in smiles.
"Still want me as a roommate?" Christine asked.
"Do I?" She reached out for Christine.
"But one thing must be understood. I may not be here too often-no questions-no answers. I have a lot of living to catch up on."
"Oh, yes-anything. Just so I know you're near and well."
"Good-now, come here-I've got something for you."
Patty scooted over. Christine took her in her arms and pressed her mouth to Patty's eager lips. Her hand cupped over Patty's firm, aching breast.
"Oh, Chris, I've missed you so. I've ached for you so."
"I know baby-I've missed you, too. Come to bed and I'll ease the ache."
Patty had little on to take off. She was nude in a flash and lay on the bed, waiting eagerly, hungrily for her love. Christine stripped, got on the bed and lay between Patty's spread legs. She crushed her body against her willing partner as she put her hot mouth over Patty's. Her hands cupped the firm, large titties.
Patty pushed and twisted her black-haired pussy into Christine's golden bush, as Christine sucked her way to the angel tit, with its taut, pink nipple. They worked cunt against cunt, they're rapture rising rapidly to a crescendo.
"Oh, darling, I love you-I love you," Patty groaned as she grabbed Christine's ass and pulled her tight against her aching cunt.
"Don't love me-just take the pleasure we give each other," she warned Patty, slipping down to the black, luxuriant bush, nuzzling her face in the warmth.
"Oh, God," Patty moaned as Christine's hot breath sent shivers up her spine.
She moved her ass up. Christine sunk her mouth into the wet, musk of the eager cunt.
"Suck it lover-suck it! Make me come! It's been so long!" Patty groaned ecstatically as Christine's tongue and lips grabbed the sensitive nub. Patty convulsed and spewed forth her love, letting the unbearable tortures of her love-starved body out in a staccato whine-Yes-yes-yes-yes-I'm coming-coming-my wonderful pussy-sucking lover-I'm coming-OooHHH!"
They continued making love to each other the rest of the afternoon. It was wonderful, tender love. They had orgasms together and separately-giving unselfishly to each other-taking selfishly from each other.
The time passed too fast. They had to leave their bed of love for the unromantic atmosphere of the Chicago Sports Arena.
Once more, Christine stood in the wings watching Jix and Jax go through their inimitable antics. She didn't look to see if Jim was there-she knew he was-she knew he and Pete were waiting in their front row seats. Tonight, she was going to show him what it was all about-he would tell his grandchildren about the night he saw the greatest figure skater of them all.
Jix and Jax slid to their pratfall ending and received their usual ovation.
The lights went out, the magenta spot picked Christine up as the orchestra swept into the intro. On her musical cue she sped onto the ice-the second spot picked her up as she zoomed twice around the rink. She picked up momentum and lifted up into a leaping half spin, landing on one skate going backwards.
She twisted into a blurring spin and came out in a flying axel. Again, she threw away the book. She was enjoying herself. Attempting things she had done never before-and they came off to perfection.
She was a perpetual motion of fluid beauty. Her lithe body catapulted, spun, split to an ever increasing tempo. She was lost to the world-she was skating with surging power and exquisite grace. As the drums began the final roll, she drove into a spin of unimaginable speed. The drum roll crashed to a climax and she stopped simultaneously. She was now motionless, her arms extended above her head.
There was complete silence. Not a person stirred-not a person breathed. Then as one they rose and the applause thundered. They wouldn't let her off the ice. Twice the orchestra started the introduction for the jungle number, and twice they had to stop so she could come out for more bows. They finally allowed the show to continue.
In the dressing room, Patty waited, her eyes brimming with tears. She threw her arms around Christine's neck.
"Oh, Chris-Chris-I was never so proud of anyone in my whole life." She began to cry unashamedly.
Those who were still in the dressing room surged around her, praising the magnificence of her performance. She accepted the kudos graciously.
Jim stepped into the knot of admirers.
They looked at each other.
'At least I saw it first-even before you," he boasted, as he took her contract from his pocket and tore it up. "Have dinner with me tonight and we'll discuss your new contract."
"Why waste time with dinner-why don't we go straight to your suite?"
He was definitely agreeable.
They entered his suite and he removed her coat. He poured her a drink of brandy as she sat on the arm of the divan.
"I'll be right back-I want change into something more comfortable-it's still a switch, isn't it?"
He went into the bedroom and took his clothes off. As he was stepping into his pajama bottoms, Christine entered the room, wearing nothing but a provocative smile.
"Don't bother," she said and he threw the bottoms to the side.
She slithered up to him and felt his rapidly swelling cock.
"My skating isn't all that's come to life-but take advantage of it-it may be the last chance you'll get."
The lights went out and they disappeared into the blackness. Only agonized groans and moans split the stillness as Christine fucked him and fucked him and fucked him and fucked him-on and on into the night.
When he was finally seen the next day-everyone would swear he had lost fifteen pounds, but he was a man who was content.
