He drew her to the sofa, easing her down. Her lips burned under his kiss.
Then, his hand moved under her skirt, caressing and fondling. She writhed against him in sweet anticipation.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she whispered.
"Is this what you want, sweet?" he murmured, his hand stealing inside her panties.
She sighed, spreading her legs as stabs of delight curled through her loins.
He tugged and her filmy panties slipped down off her hips. Every touch of his hand was a burning knife, sinking into her body, awakening delirious responses.
"You're the best I ever paid for," she cried .
CHAPTER ONE
THE TINGLING SENSATON WENT ON AND ON....
Jean Sampson stretched languidly in her recliner beach chair and watched Joe's browned hand slip under the hem of her miniskirt.
Tingles swept along her thighs, up to her crotch. She spread her legs, drinking in the senuous feel of his fingers on her responsive flesh.
"Like that?" Joe asked, smiling.
"Not bad," she answered, feigning a sophistication she wished she really had.
It was mid-afternoon, and sea gulls coasted overhead, making their odd cries. She had come to Santa Barbara the day before, taken an expensive beach house near the ocean. She liked the little shaded enclosure at the rear, where she sat now with Joe, her hired escort. It was a day for swim suits, really, but she hated them because she didn't have the figure for it. She had such large hips!
Even in the eighth grade her nickname had been Hips Sampson. The fact that her father owned the biggest sawmill in Troy, Montana hadn't even put her with the 'in' crowd during her high school years.
Her mother had died when she was quite young, and her father had sold the old home, moving into a fine, new apartment, close to the mill. He owned the apartment house, too. She had gone to work in the sawmill office. She didn't have to; her mother had left her a large inheritance. She had never lacked for spending money.
Very nice to have, but even that hadn't attracted any virile men. Not in Troy, Montana. Everybody knew her. Even the salesmen didn't bother. Her round face, her plain appearance, and especially her big round bottom, kept the males away.
When she was twenty-one she had taken her own apartment. She had always been alone a great deal, and furnishing the place had given her something to do; taking care of it ate up some of her lonely hours.
Then, at age twenty-three, on a vacation at Reno, she had heard about a unique 'service' for lonesome girls, Men for hire, by the evening or by the day or week. Call-boys.
As Joe's hand crept further along her tingly thighs, nearly touching the thin stretch of her panties, she remembered her first experience with a sigh of erotic nostalgia....
She sat in front of the vanity mirror of her plush hotel suite and fussed with her shiny blonde hair. A bartender in Harold's Club had told her where to call ... an unlisted number. Once she mentioned the bartender's name, the woman who answered grew very cooperative.
What time would she like her escort to arrive? About how old should he be? She had always liked the idea of having a man ten years her senior, so she had asked for someone at least thirty-two. Fine, she knew just the man for her. And so on.
Now that it was about time for a man named Ed to knock on her hotel room door, she grew very nervous. She didn't want to go out on the town; people stared at her bigness.
No man has ever kissed me or held my breasts or reached under my dress, she thought, wistfully. But tonight, for a hundred dollars, I'll get what I've been wanting for so many years.
Money was no problem. She wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. There were whorehouses for the man in Troy, but none for the girls.
They were supposed to wait for marriage. Well, she had waited too long already. Not even a steady. It was shameful. She always kept herself tidy, her hair well-groomed. She was almost too particular about cleanliness. Her apartment was always spotless.
She realized, of course, that she could probably catch some lout of a drunken woods-worker, but there would still be in the back of her mind the idea that he might have her father's money in mind. If she married a person like that, Sam would probably disinherit her.
She wasn't going to toss away a fortune just to have a man-any man.
At an early age she had found a way to relieve her nerves, have at least some fun out of life, Everyone needed some sort of sexual outlet. So, whenever she saw a romantic movie or read a sexy novel, she knew how to take the edge of her hunger away.
Whenever she did it, she imagined all kinds of sensual scenes. She had overcome her earlier shame about the act; she had read books and studied enough to know that nearly everybody masturbated.
A few times she had tried candles....
She adjusted her filmy wrapper, hoping her hired lover would look at her best points instead of her worst. Her breasts weren't too bad, really. They were still firm and shapely. Her waist was trim. If only her hips weren't so huge ... or her face so round....
She had a good mouth, too. Full and wide.
At home she never used eye makeup, but in vacation spots like Reno, she did. She had made her mouth red, too. The yellow mist of nylon revealed the pinkness of her nipples.
They've never been kissed, either! I'm a big-hipped virgin, ready for her real first fun.
Her hymen had been broken, of course, years earlier. She had used a round piece of sponge rubber. Some day she was determined to buy a real imitation. She'd heard about them but she didn't know where to get one. In the Orient, of course, such things were common; maybe she'd take a trip there soon.
Imagine what people would say in Troy if they found out she was using a dildo, or buying her dates! She laughed to herself. At least, she had always tried to have a sense of humor. It made things easier for her. At the mill office she told smutty stories. She had a knack for it.
Most of the gals there were friendly, but she never pushed herself on them. She was the Boss's Daughter. She didn't have to be there, at all.
The expected rapping came on her hotel door. She left her place in front of the mirror and ran to answer the knock. Her heart pounded. She was flushed. Could she really go through with it. She had had a tray of bottles and ice and mixer sent up; she had already downed two highballs. She wasn't used to drinking, and she felt the liquor in her veins. It seemed to give her courage.
She opened the door and experienced a swift thrill. He was tall and quite handsome! Tanned, smiling, a touch of gray at his temples. He had good teeeth.
"Come in!" she exclaimed.
"I'm Ed," he offered, his eyes taking in her figure. He didn't appear offended. He was probably used to older dames; they generally had more money to spend.
"Call me Hips," she said, pointing to the array of bottles and glasses. She still was very nervous, excited.
"Hell, you're young-and fresh," he said.
She flushed, too aware of her near-nakedness. Perhaps she should have gone out on the town with him first.
"Liar," she said, but the words pleased her. That was part of his job. "Oh I'd better get this done first...." She found her purse in a chair and drew out two fifty-dollar billls. She handed them over. He looked a little embarrassed.
"Should I have slipped it in your pocket or something" she asked, uneasily. "This is my first time-"
He smiled. "No, that's fine...." He put the money away in his billfold. He came toward her. "What do you mean, first time?"
She tried to laugh. "I'm the small-town grown-up virgin, Ed! Are you flattered"
"Hell, yes!"
His arm went around her waist. She trembled. She had never even danced with a man. On a floor she would feel much too awkward. At school she had been invited to a few dances, mainly because of her father's influence, but the embarrassment of not being asked out on the floor had driven her home, to stay. In some ways, she had developed a hatred for men. She knew it wasn't a healthy attitude, but she couldn't help some resentment.
She wouldn't dance with other girls; she had a grain of pride left. She couldn't get dates the regular way, so she was buying one.
Would he kiss her? She had heard that whores refused to kiss their customer-for obvious reasons ... She knew what French kisses were.
His right hand opened the gap in the top of her wrapper. His fingers touched her breasts. She leaned nearer, shivering. Her nipples tingled and swelled. She had excited them many times herself, but this was much more stimulating. Ohhhhh, much!
"That feels good," she said, boldly.
He cupped her charms with more enthusasm. He leaned his head down and kissed her under the ear. She had dabbed her best perfume there. Spicy sensations shot along her body. I'm turning hot awfully fast. I do need a man's hands on me.
"These are great," he whispered, teasing her nipples.
"Ohhh-I love it, Ed."
"Do you like a lot of playing around, sweetie"
Things weren't going to be difficult at all!
"Of course," she breathed. She remembered some of the books she had read. "Make me pant, honey. Make me really want it!"
He opened her wrapper all the way down. Sparkly thrills fanned out across her loins. He caressed the flare of her hips, then danced his fingers between her thighs.
She had made herself as dainty as she knew how. She was all showered and powdered and perfumed. She wanted this to be a big night. She was tired of dreaming and wishing and wondering how it would feel to have a man inside her, hot and close. Money could get this for her.
His hand on her vee awakened voluptuous, cozy thrills. He pressed and shaped her.
'Ohhh-nice!" she cried.
"Very," he said.
"I don't want to-rush," she answered, remembering the drinks she had planned to serve. His interest was making her forget everything. She shuddered as he opened the soft lips of her femininity and found the little tip of her passion. Stings of delight swirled through her body.
"Don't you?" he asked teasingly.
"Ohhh-I'm getting hot fast!" she cried softly.
He chuckled and drew his hand away. "We'll slow down, then. I could use a drink...."
She hated the sudden break in her pleasure, but she had paid for a whole night. Lots of time for fun.
After a few highballs apiece, he undressed, and she stretched out on the bed, her wrapper off. She turned the lights down so her bigness would not be so noticeable.
He sank down beside her. He was in good physical shape. She wondered if he did anything else for a living-besides pleasing vacationing girls. He evaded all her questions.
"How do you want it, first?" he whispered, leaning above her, kissing a saucy nipple. His hand was between her thighs again, teasing a-round. She shivered, the liquor giving her enough courage to say what she had never said to anyone.
"Play with me a lot, like you're doing-and then-put it in...."
His hand on her vee grew more insistent. She spread her thighs, quaking with want. Oh, it was so keen and wonderful!
"Aren't the boys at home treating you right, sweetie?"
"Nooo. Ohhh-honey!"
She looked down at his rigid manhood. She had seen diagrams and pictures, but this was real. This was 'live.' She ventured to reach down and hold him. Sensuous tremors shot from her nipples to her erected clitoris. He was playing with her so skillfulllly," lifting her passion, making her squirm and her breath quicken.
Finally, he crouched above her. She was frantic for it now. She lifted her hips and brought her legs up, as she had dreamed of doing so many times. Her soft thighs burned on his body. She felt the pressure of his penis at the door of her femininity.
She strained upward, and then he was entering. Ohhhh-it was even better then she had ever imagined. It was hot and sweet and he seemed to fill her. She heard herself moan as he drove into her seething depths. A quick, hard wave of tremors possessed her. Her loins blazed, and suddenly she knew what it was to feel a man deep just as her climax began.
She shouted. The heavenly throbs were like nothing she had ever experienced! It seemed to go on and on and on-sweet little bunchings and spasmings....
"You're real great," he whispered, when her first storm was over. He was still hard inside her. "You're very snug."
Ohhh-is that good?"
"That makes it real good," he said.
She relaxed for a moment, dreamily. I finally did it. I got my little gun off with a man a-bove me, inside me....
"Can-you do it for me again?" she whispered.
"Hell, yes. I haven't even started yet!
She sighed. He braced there, and she began to squirm and lift ... Ohhh, it was going to be even better!
"Come on now, sweetie," he breathed a-round her nipples. "Take it slow and easy. That's it-play around ... No, not so fast. Make it last longer...."
She learned a lot that night. Before morning she climaxed four times. And the last one, when he buried his shaft deep and spurted his passion inside her, was beyond any question the best one of all.
CHAPTER TWO
HER BREASTS BEGAN TO PULSE WITH EXCITEMENT....
Joe's hand reached Jean's panties, at last. She gave an encouraging lift, spreading her thighs so he could have ample room to explore. Twinges of her desire brought a pleased smile to her lips.
She was twenty-five now, and more experienced. She liked Santa Barbara, with its even temperature, the waving palms along the streets, the Spanish influence on most of the buildings and houses.
The house near the beach was costing plenty, but she didn't care. It sat away from the other more common cabins. Sam, her father, was in the process of selling his sawmill. She had piles of money in the bank, and more would be coming.
She still had her apartment in Montana, but she was seldom home any more. She liked the larger cities, where hired studs were available. L.A. wasn't too distant. An agency there had sent Joe out that afternoon.
He scooted his chair closer, his hand becoming more initimate.
He wasn't bad looking; better than most of them. He had a casual air that suited her mood of playful dalliance. As had happened before, wondered what he did for a living-besides working as a male escort. He was deeply tanned, around thirty-eight. Maybe a lifeguard?
"Don't rush me, honey," she said. "Why don't you build us a drink apiece?"
"Hey, why not?" he said, taking his hand from under her skirt. His slacks fit very snugly; she could see his virile bulge. He had a fine build.
He stood up and went to the table that contained bottles and ice and mixers.
Joe was number nine. After her first experience in Reno, she had returned there for numbers two to five. Then, another trip home, she had made a contact in L.A. The agency there seemed to have more variety. The men were better looking and knew their bed manners.
"I've already been screwed by more men than some girls have in a lifetime, she thought.
She was making up for all the time she had lost in her teens and up until she was twenty-two.
The one before Joe she had kept around for several days. Then, after resting a week, she had made another call and had sent another certified check. It was on a bank in Santa Barbara; she didn't want to tap her funds in Troy. Bankers in small towns had suspicious minds. She had simply transferred a large amount to the California bank. People in resort cities didn't ask questions-the money was all that counted.
Joe returned to his chair, handed her a gin and tonic, as she had requested. He was drinking whiskey and water.
His eyes ran across her blouse. It was tight, and showed the lines of her breasts.
"They're better than my legs, honey," she said, winking.
He smiled. He had very white teeth. Perhaps he was a bartender. Several of her paid studs had admitted being in the whiskey business. She wondered if they were underpaid on their regular jobs. Or did they just naturally gravitate from liquor into bedrooms.
"Want me to open you up there and bring them out sugar?" he asked lightly.
"Yes, I like that."
"I thought maybe you did."
"Am I better or worse than your last date?"
"Hey, I don't know yet!" he said, smiling. "You're a hell of a lot younger."
His fingers worked the buttons of her blouse with the deftness of long practice. She decided to tease him.
"Are these older gals hard to please? Does it take them a long time to climax?"
"Sometimes," he said, testing the firmness of her breasts. The gin was helping her. He unhooked the front opener of her bra, slid his hand in on her bare charms. Her nipples tingled gratifyingly.
"Be more specific, honey," she urged. He chuckled. "You really want to know?"
"Of course."
He lifted her breasts out of her bra cups and exposed them. "Hey, these are nice! Very shapely."
She arched them forward. She was proud of those, at least. She performed special exercises to keep them pointy and firm. Joe had a good touch; her nipples were erect. Pleasurable thrills made her shiver.
"The last old gal wanted me to talk all the time," he said. "I had to pretend like I was coming before she got her jollies."
Jean laughed. "Did she have good titties'"
"Hell, no." His fingers were weaving a sensuous path over her breasts; they really jutted. She wished now she hadn't waited a week between men. She was turning hot rather more swiftly than usual.
In between her hired dates she used her mechanical aid; she had wised up since her Reno trips. She knew now where to buy them. Sometimes she found it more satisfying than a real live man. She tried to be honest with herself and her emotions. She was a sensualist. She had to have her thrills regularly.
"Feel under my dress again, honey," she said, getting rid of her empty glass. She laced her fingers in Joe's curly, dark hair. "Then you can kiss my titties."
He nodded. His hand coasted along her open thighs, and he obediently lowered his mouth to her breasts. She watched his lips enclose a tender nipple; she felt a tremor of excitement.
"Just play around a while, honey," she whispered. "But don't take my panties down, yet. I want a slow one...."
"Sure," he said.
She hitched her bottom into a more comfortable position. Her panties were very thin. There, that was better. He played with her heated thighs, then moved to her love-mound. Bubbly waves of need made her breathing quicken.
Her nipples were sharpening, and the stings of delight came sweetly, in little waves.
I don't need marriage, she thought, weaving her breasts. Not when I can buy my nooky. The girls back home ought to see me, now.
She let him continue for a few moments more. Every girl needed this.
The silence was broken by the chiming of the front door bell.
Jean muttered blackly. The waves of her rising delight commenced to fade. What fool could be at her door this time of day?
Joe's hand and mouth lifted as she moved out of the recliner. She refastened her bra and buttoned her blouse.
"Be right back," she said, leaving the enclosed patio. Angrily, she walked through the house, feeling the warmth Joe had aroused stealing slowly away. She jerked the front door open. Western Union....
She held her temper, signed for the message, closed the door and opened the envelope. Damned interruptions.
Surprisingly, the telegram was from her father.
HURRY HOME AM GETTING MARRIED SOON TO A WONDERFUL GIRL COLLEEN WINDSOR. LOVE SAM.
Jean stared at the message in disbelief. Her father was fifty-eight. Should he be marrying at his age?
Colleen Windsor. Jean knew her, all right. She was Troy's most often divorced widow, tall, dark and attractive. She couldn't be over thirty ... Her previous husbands had all been clipped for heavy alimony.
Jean cursed, sniffing danger. Colleen was a gold-digger; she was after Sam's money. The sale of the sawmill was about to go through, the payments to be spread over a five-year period to save on taxes. He was wealthy. And, if he married, Jean might not get all the inheritance money she had planned on. And without adequate funds she wouldn't be able to live as she had, nor hire male escorts for a hundred dollars a day....
She wadded the telegram in a ball and tossed it in a waste basket. She had to get home, all right. Soon!
She went to the phone and called the United office at the Santa Barbara airport. A flight was going north at four o'clock. None sooner. It was now one-thirty. Well, that would give her time enough. She didn't want to get on a hedge-hopping plane. Going by United she could be in Missoula by seven that evening. Then, an hour's drive to Troy. Maybe less.
And there was Joe, waiting for her to return. Well, she wasn't going to miss that. She would have to hurry things a little. She had already paid her hundred.
A few moments later they were on her bed, naked. She had had her hair done the day before, thankfully. She could enjoy herself for an hour at least. Then, some packing, buying a ticket. She wouldn't have her nap, afterward.
I've got to stop that marriage.
Joe leaned above her, sipping at her nipples. She reached down and held his manhood. He was large, beautifully erect.
She had planned several innovations before he sank his shaft into her, but she had explained the situation, and he took it agreeably. Perhaps he was relieved to have his assignment over so quickly. Some of the older women he serviced might be less demanding....
His hand slipped between her heavy thighs, and the tingles of need began to reawaken. Her nipples sharpened. Too bad she couldn't take Joe with her, but that would be far too expensive, and the people of Troy would really lift their cynical eyebrows. To them she was still big-bottomed Jean, always dateless ... probably destined to be an old maid.
Joe's finger located her clitoris, and she trembled. She spread wider, raising her hips. Forget Colleen now. She would have time for only part of the thrill she had anticipated. After a week, she was sure she could enjoy a real workout-and now the news had cut into her day, her pleasure.
Her breasts began to pulse with her excitement. Good. She braced her heels on the bed and squirmed her bottom, lifting against the pressure of Joe's hand. He drew a nipple far into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.
Her joy quickened. She cozied his maleness, feeling his tremor of arousal. She glanced at her bedside clock.
Five minutes till two; still time to have a lot of sexy fun. A hundred dollars for one goaround was pretty high. But she would get all she could out of it. In Troy she would have to go without....
His fingers went excitingly along the crevice of her femininity. She moaned. Might be an added thrill, working against a deadline! Her clitoris was especially sensitive today. She was getting moist, ready.
She hoped he had good staying powers; some of them didn't. She wanted to go off at least three times. It might be weeks before she had a man in bed again!
"Climb on board, honey," she whispered. "And make it slow and easy...."
He angled his browned body between her thighs, and lowered carefully. She liked to watch a man go in. She had gone without it so many years, the sight still was thrilling, nerve-tingly. She had two pillows under her head, one under her hips.
She steered him to the door of her femininity. The heated touch of him made her shiver. Now, the sweet spreading, the voluptuous clasp of her membranes around him.
"Ohhhh!" she gasped.
He went deeper. He lowered his mouth to her breasts. She gripped him with her legs, curling her botttom into a more favorable position. Yes, she had learned a few things since that first time.
The real fun started. He stroked to the limit a few times and then held while she made her own thrusts. He was big enough to make things deliciously snug. In fact, he was very big. She paused, then, savoring the little sugary twinges that coasted through her body, centering in the depths of her pelvis.
She lowered until they were almost apart, then came upward in short Teachings, dallying with her need, swimming in the thrall of sensual enjoyment.
Every so often a healthy girl just had to have it, have it, have it. She didn't measure the cost, now. She panted and rotated her big bottom, as the suspense mounted, as the delightful quirtings quickened.
"You're good, baby," he muttered.
Well, they didn't often say that!
"Just stay where you are," she gasped.
He licked her nipples, poised on his hands and knees, letting her bob and wiggle to her heart's content. She had tried it on top a few times, but it didn't work so well-she was too thick through the pelvis.
She rested a moment, and then started once more. Up, up-pause-up, up, up! It was going to be real good!
The bed sighed, and the golden moments ticked away.
A quarter after two ... Still plenty of time left.
Finally, she couldn't hold it back any longer, and she stiffened, digging her fingers in his shoulders. He knew the signal. The sweet tumult began as she softened, and he started the long, deep plunges.
When I get back to Santa Barbara, I'll ask for Joe again!
"Come on, baby!" he breathed, around a rigid nipple. "Come to Daddy!"
The rapture came in hard little jerkings and tightenings.
"Ohhhhh-I'm going!" she shouted.
The delectable spasms shook her whole body, and she met the fury of his strokes It hadn't been this good for a long time!
"That's it!" he murmured. "Go hard!"
She did. The throb, throb, throb of her climax tore another cry from her throat. When she relaxed, at last, she knew he had waited-he would be there, big and hard, when she was ready again....
I hate to go home now, but I have to. Colleen is a money-grabbing little bitch.
CHAPTER THREE
MAKE IT SWEET, COLLEEN
Jean parked her rental car in front of Sam's luxury apartment house, glad to see his New Yorker in its accustomed slot. He was home. The plane trip had been uneventful, and Troy, stuck down between two wooded hills, looked about the same. Darkness still was an hour or so a-way. She had had a light meal between planes, at Portland, Oregon.
She walked up to his front door and entered without knocking, as usual. She opened her lips to greet him, and then stopped. The room lay in soft twilight, and she saw immediately that she had stepped into an interesting situation.
Colleen was sprawled on a sofa, naked from the waist down. Her long slim legs were apart, and she was so involved in what she was doing she hadn't heard Jean's almost noiseless entrance. The purr of an air-conditioner had also helped cover Jean's intrusion.
A pair of men's slippers lay on the carpet, evidence that Sam had been here until recently. In fact, she thought she heard faint sounds from the bathroom.
Brunette Colleen, her head propped up on a pillow, had one hand between her rounded thighs, her breasts were out and were being caressed with her left hand....
She had a slender, shapely body, Jean had to admit. Her breasts were dainty cones, brown-tipped. Right at the moment, her nipples were sharply erect. Her hips moved slowly in coital thrusts, while her finger was centered on the tip of her clitoris....
It was an amazing scene, really. Jean had never watched another girl play with herself. Woman, really.
Her movements, her quick breathing, indicated she was nearing her crest. Jean wanted to shout or say something, but why deny her the pleasure that Sam evidently hadn't been able to give her?
Colleen's hands moved faster; her hips bucked-and suddenly she uttered a sharp moan of delight. She stiffened, her head drew back, and Jean saw the tortured expression of sexual delight on her pretty, rather over-painted face.
Colleen relaxed, her hips quieting.
The way Jean had always heard it, the man usually stayed in bed and the wife went to the bathroom to finished with her sexy thrills.
Suddenly Jean recovered her senses. The little drama had stirred her desire, oddly.
"Was it good, Colleen?" she said, dryly.
Colleen opened her eyes, gasped and snatched at her discarded skirt. She yanked her blouse together, and even in the dimness Jean could see the hot flush that ran up the brunette's throat.
"Ohhh!" Colleen cried, softly, casting a glance toward the bathroom. "Oh, you awful-eavesdropper!'"
"I just walked in," Jean said, taking a chair. "Sam didn't get you off, I see!"
"You-vile creature!" Colleen muttered, glaring.
Jean laughed. "Interesting show, really! Go ahead and get dressed. I've seen naked girls before-or I should say, naked women." She lowered her voice, and winked. "You ought to show Sam what to do with his hand, if he can't any other way...."
Colleen stood up and found her panties. She put them on, quickly. She buttoned her blouse and slipped into her skirt. She turned to give Jean a catty stare.
"I suppose you came home to break us up-is that it?"
"Well, of course, darling! I can't have my doddering father marrying a harpie like you."
"I'll get even with you!" Colleen snapped. She appeared to be regaining her poise. "He's in the palm of my hand, right now."
"Maybe I'll tell him what I saw, just now. He's a little old-fashioned."
"Ha! He wouldn't believe you. I've heard rumors about your activities, too. You can't get dates, so you buy them!"
Jean raised her eyebrows. "Well, you can't prove it. At least my dates give me satisfaction."
Colleen started to fire back and the sound of a door being closed broke up the catty interchange. Sam appeared in a very proper robe.
He saw Jean and he stopped, his mouth open.
"I ... well, hello, Jean," he managed, embarrassed.
"Just got in, Dad," she answered, smiling. "Did I interrupt something?"
Sam flushed. "Er ... no, of course not! Colleen and I were just having a little chat...."
She stood up. "I'll be going. I'll be at my apartment. When's the wedding?" she added, coolly.
"In a week," Sam replied. He ran his hand through his graying hair. "I'm glad you could make it-so soon."
Jean laughed. "Maybe a little too soon."
Her apartment, about a mile from her father's, was stuffy. The maid had kept things clean, however. She turned on the air-conditioner and sank into a chair. She was tired. Joe had done a fine job on her. She had climaxed three times, and even at Portland she had still been a little weak-kneed.
She had promised to ask for him the next time she was in Santa Barbara. The rent on her beach house was paid for two weeks. With luck, she could wind things up here in Troy and be back in sunny California in ten days.
She had taken all her new clothes with her. Even if she didn't return, and the house was rented to someone else, she would suffer no great loss.
New clothes thrilled her, anyway. There were some good shops in Missoula.
Right now, she needed a shower and a change. She would drop over to see her father later.
Had Colleen already moved in? Probably no tin this staid community. Sam liked to keep up appearances.
She had a week to break it up. Already she had a few ideas....
Colleen and her model figure, her rounded bottom and long legs, represented a real threat to Jean's security.
I'll bet she pretended to go off, so Dad would think he'd really made her flip, she thought. As soon as they're married she'll pick up a Romeo.
Jean began to wonder why the vision of Colleen's sprawled legs, the hand playing with her breasts, the other on her vee, had stirred her interest. The idea of trying it with another girl had occurred to her, of course. She had never pushed the thought aside; her big interest had always been men.
Come to think of it, there had been some talk about Colleen years earlier. The slender brunetttte had shared an apartment with a cute little blonde, a newcomer to Troy. But, of course, tongues always wagged in a small community. The blonde had suddenly left town; she had been a waitress.
Colleen had latched onto another man, and the gossip had ended-at least, about any possible lesbian leanings.
Jean had seen plenty of it in Nevada and California. Nobody cared. She had simply never run into a girl that excited her. And why worry about it when men were available?
Still, I wouldn't mind trying a girl, just for kicks. I might even love it.
Later, when she called Sam's apartment, there was no answer. Colleen's fine touch, of course. She wouldn't want father and daughter together any more than she could help. Jean had made her purpose clear.
They were probably out to dinner. She had told her father she would be around later. After she had a bite to eat she would drive over there and see what was cooking. She realized she might have a tough battle on her hands. But definitely, her father deserved someone better than Colleen. She was after his money, nothing else.
"How long since you parked on a lonely road with a girl, Sam?" Colleen asked, snuggling up to him.
"Years!" Sam exclaimed.
Colleen patted his leg, permitting her short skirt to slip back along her thighs. Moonlight slanted into the front seat of his big car. She could see his eyes on her legs. Good. Keep him occupied the rest of the evening.
Jean hadn't come back to Troy for a wedding; she had returned to break it up. Colleen knew her beauty was starting to fade, just a little. Sam would make an ideal catch. He wouldn't be too demanding-once or twice a week was about all he could stand.
Secretly, she had always been something of a man-hater. She had used her slender beauty to get the good things out of life, and she intended to continue her course. Sam had piles of money, more than any of her previous husbands. As soon as they were married she could start seeing Sally Bell again. Sally lived in Missoula, which made things handy. Visits to a good hairdresser, shopping; there would always be excuses that would satisfy Sam.
Sally was cute and blonde and cuddly; she worked in a cafe, had her own small apartment. Colleen had initiated Sally into the pleasures girl-fun about two months earlier. But Colleen couldn't see Sally as often as she liked, especially when she had to appear to be crazy about Sam. Well, her campaign was about ended; she had him hooked. Earlier than day, before Jean's arrival, she had pretty well clinched the deal. She had been very 'daring' with naive old Sam, and after a long interlude of letting him feel her all over, take her clothes off, she had worked him up big and hard.
Of course, he had done it the old-fashioned way. But she knew all the tricks. She had made it real good for him.
As usual, though, she hadn't had much fun out of it. A man being inside her had never dragged her over the edge into an orgasm. The act was just a little distasteful. The seat of her pleasure was her clitoris, and only a slow buildup with another woman really made her go bang-bang.
Sally, with her soft thighs and big sloping breasts, her cute mouth, the way she yielded, gave Colleen a big charge.
Sam had left her up in the air, and then Jean had come into the living room and watched.
She didn't generally resort to teasing herself off, but now and then a woman just had to settle her nerves. v "Feel me up, darling," Colleen murmured, nestling her slim body close to his. Sam shiver-ed. She was almost positive he wouldn't be able to do it again for several days-but it would keep him interested.
"You're so good to me," Sam murmured. "You make me feel younger!"
"I'm all yours, Sam-you know that," she murmured.
Before dinner he had driven her by her apartment, and she had showered and changed. She had walked through her living room in panties and bra, knowing it would tickle his ego. Men were such fools about a shapely figure!
His hand slid under the hem of her skirt. She cooed in his ear and kissed him. Maybe she could speed up the course of events, get herself married to him before the appointed date.
Anyway, as long as she and Sam were out here, parked in the woods, Jean wouldn't have a chance to interfere.
She had found that he liked a little sexy conversation. He probably hadn't heard any, or very little, until she had moved in. Well, not quite yet. But in a week or less she would be Mrs. Sam Sampson, and big-hipped Jean wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.
"Feel my breasts, too, darling," she whispered.
Sam trembled. He ate it up. "You're so beautiful, Colleen!"
His hand on her thigh was rather clumsy. Just as well, probably. She didn't want to get too worked up herself. She would have no chance to slip into Missoula and see Sally.
She opened the front of her dress. The moonlight revealed the jut of her breasts in the lacy bra. Sam muttered enthusiastically. She touched his loins, gently. The old goat was actually becoming aroused!
Would he want to try it again, tonight?
Well, he could try, and that would be about all, at his age. She would invite him to her apartment. That would give him an added thrill.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHAT A SCREAM, TAKING SAM'S TREAT "Well, hello Jean!"
Jean had driven downtown to have a sandwich, going into one of her old haunts, Eddie's Bakery Bar. She hadn't found Sam or Colleen anywhere. Perhaps they had driven into Missoula.
The pleasant feminine greeting turned Jean around. She was surprised to see Donna Anderson, and even more surprised that Donna had spoken. The slim brownette had been very popular in high school, even though she escaped being actually beautiful, she was striking. Her brown hair was now shaped closely to her head, and she wore tight pants and a snug red jersey.
"I'm home visiting, on vacation," Donna said, taking a stool next to Jean's. "Not many of the old gang around."
"They're all married," Jean said. "Aren't you?"
Jean had been a loner; still, she recalled that Donna had never snubbed her, as some of the popular girls had. Perhaps that had been because of the Sampson influence, their money.
"I tried it, once," Donna said, smiling. Her brown eyes were suspiciously wiser than Jean remembered; they ran over Jean's bodice, lingering on her mouth.
Donna was now living in Seattle, working as a secretary. She was finding Troy very dull. She didn't appear too interested in the local men, what few were available.
"I didn't make it," Jean said, meaning marriage. "You know me, Hips Sampson."
"Some men like plump girls," Donna said, in a friendly manner. Her voice lowered, and her eyes caught Jean's. "If a girl thinks she has to have one...."
Jean looked at Donna's slender, boyish figure and the idea began to stir in her mind. I think she's trying to get a message across.
"They can be very boring," Jean said, leading Donna on. "I've been having a good time lately in California."
"So I heard," Donna said. She smiled. "At least I heard you were down there a lot. You know, you look a lot better than you used to. I like your hair; you're not nearly as big as you used to be, either. Something down in California must be agreeing with you."
"I can find men there," Jean said. She winked at Donna, lowering her voice. Some of those male escorts can give a girl a hot time."
"Good! Every gal needs a little sexing once in a while. You've changed, and I guess I have too. We're older. We can say what we wouldn't have said back in the high school days. Boy, was I dumb!" Donna leaned nearer, whispering. Her tone was intimate. "I've been to some real swinging parties. Girls dressed like boys, men like girls ... I guess I wouldn't shock you if I asked this-have you ever tried it with another girl?"
"A few times," Jean lied.
Donna giggled. Her lilac perfume touched Jean's senses. She felt a tug of attraction for Donna.
"Did you like it?" Donna asked, softly.
"Not bad...." She was tempted, but after all she had had a busy day, and she wanted to locate Colleen and Sam. "You staying at home on your vacation, Donna?"
"Yes. Why don't you call me?"
"I will, tomorrow. Maybe we can cook something up."
Donna leaned nearer. The jut of her breasts under the red jersey had their sensuous appeal. "We're grown women, now, dear. Why not have a little fun out of life?"
Jean winked. She wanted to think about it, first.
After some more bright chatter, Donna left Jean watched the limber swing of her bottom as she walked out of the Bakery Bar.
With all that equipment she could catch a lot of men-and she likes girls.
After eating, Jean drove by her father's apartment. Still no sign of him or Colleen. She decided to try Colleen's apartment; she had looked up the address in the phone book. It was in a newer section of Troy, a ground-floor duplex. Sure enough, Sam's Imperial was parked in front. A light was on in the left unit, which would be Colleen's.
I've got to find a way to break them up, she thought.
She drove by, slowly, and turned right at the next intersection. Full darkness had fallen. She saw an alley behind the duplex and idled her car along it. She parked at the rear of a large shed, cut the lights.
Maybe a little snooping would be in order. There were no fences and a great deal of lawn, so she had no problem slipping up to the lighted windows. Shrubs grew close to the duplex; if a car came by she could duck behind some greenery. The evening had cooled; Troy was in the timber country, and the nights, even in summer, were pleasantly cool.
A window was up-and from the location of it she knew it must belong to a bedroom. A soft light burned inside. She heard their voices, and she crept up very close. When she raised her head she discovered that the drapes weren't quite together. She could look into the room.
She felt a shiver of excitement.
Sam lay on his back on the counterpane, a pillow under his head. Colleen, in bra and panties, sat at the edge of the bed, running her fingers over his chest. Wasn't her Dad trying to push things a little? Hadn't he topped her once today already?
It didn't bother her looking in at her father. She hoped he could still enjoy life, but not with a greedy bitch like Colleen. She was sure that some of his trips to the larger cities weren't for business alone. She'd read that some men were virile even at the age of seventy.
Colleen was all sweetness and light, cooing and using baby talk. Her bra and panties were smoky-colored, very sheer. She had a good figure, all right. Her thighs were firm, and Jean looked again at her lovely breasts.
Sam was starting to become aroused. Well, well!
"Want me to take my bra off so you can play with my titties, honey?" she purred. In Jean's ears it sounded phony and stilted, but Sam ate it up.
"You said it, darling!" he exclaimed.
Colleen leaned over him, kissing him on the mouth. His hands went to her dark, wavy hair. She unhooked her lacy little bra, and her brown-tipped nipples appeared. She had wide aureoles, Jean noticed. Her nipples weren't erect, though. Obiously, she was pretending most of her passion.
Earlier in the day, when she had been fondling them herself, her peaks had turned very hard and swollen.
Sam found her breasts and Colleen lifted her mouth. She weaved her shoulders, pressing a mound into his palm.
"Is that better, love?" Colleen murmured sweetly.
Jean felt like throwing up. It was so put-on, artificial.
But nevertheless, Sam was getting bigger. Colleen reached for his manhood and held it in her hand.
"You're awfully good to me!" he said, his voice choked.
Colleen's expression, when Sam couldn't see her face, revealed her distate. The whore, Jean thought. But then, I have to buy my fun.
One thing in Donna's favor, Jean thought suddenly, was the fact that she evidently wouldn't have to pay! The idea of having a girl fondle her, a girl as appealing as Donna, began to have a certain allure.
"Play with them good, honey!" Colleen said.
Sam was now rigid! Colleen's hand toyed with him. He uttered a low moan of pleasure.
The old rooster! Could he do it twice in one day? Jean began to find the situation rather comical. She stifled a giggle.
I want to see Colleen really work for it, Jean thought, maliciously. She was a good mimic, and she sank below the window level and made a noise like a tomcat, ready for battle. It was quite loud.
A grunt of surprise came from inside the o-pen window. Jean stood up again, peered into the bedroom, and smiled. Sam's head was raised off the pillow, and a look of annoyance showed clearly on his face.
Best of all, he was no longer rigid!
"Damn cats!" Sam growled.
"Don't pay any attention, love," Colleen said, her hand still on his manhood. "You can do it, I just know you can!"
Jean wanted to burst out laughing.
Sam settled back, squeezing one of Colleen's breasts. She couldn't quite hide a fleeting frown. Her nipples were flat. The noise had bothered the brunette, too.
"Honey," she said, "let me go a minute. I'll be right back."
"Oh, keep holding me," Sam exclaimed. "Those cats will go away."
Colleen continued to fondle him. He began to respond. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and the look on Colleen's face was almost hatred. She glared at the draperies, and Jean wanted to make another meowing sound. Not yet, though.
Presently, Colleen stood up and slid her panties down. She sank on the bed, swinging above him, straddling him. Sam gave a moan of appreciation. He was rigid again.
Colleen lowered her bottom, and tried to guide his malesness to the mark. She had difficulty balancing on one arm and her knees. Sam was busy squeezing her breasts, breathing faster.
"Uhhhhhh!" Sam grunted.
Jean went into action. She moved away from the window a few feet, and the caterwailing she now emitted was directed right at the bedroom.
"Damn!" Sam cried, frantically. The bed-springs rattled.
Jean heard Colleen curse, and when she peered through the break in the draperies she saw that Colleen was backing away. Sam had gone completely limp!
Colleen looked simply furious. She stood at the side of the bed, trying to smile, but it was a weak imitation. She dropped down beside him, her hand sliding over his chest.
"Ohhh, love, I'm so sorry!"
Sam, Jean noticed, looked very disappointed. "I almost made it," he muttered. "Darling-why don't you...? I think I could-that way...."
Jean was surprised. Evidently he had been around more than she had supposed.
Colleen trembled visibly. Her smile was so phony it was a wonder Sam couldn't see through her. But love was blind. No fool like an old fool.
"Well, anything you want, love," Colleen said, forcing her cheerfulness.
She crawled back on the bed and positioned her head between Sam's legs.
"Come on now, love!" Colleen urged, employing her baby talk routine again. She held his maleness with her right hand and attempted to arouse him with her lips.
Sam trembled. Jean blinked. Damned if he wasn't starting to come up again!
"Get big for me!" Colleen breathed. "You can do it, honey!"
Jean dropped below the window again. This time she let out a whole series of feline wails and snarls. She hit her hand against the side of the house, as though the tomcats were really having a battle.
"Damnation!" Sam shouted. "Beat it. you filthy beasts!"
Jean almost doubled over with silent laughter. When she recovered, she stood up. A peek through the drapes told her all she needed to know. Colleen was off the bed again, standing beside it. Sam struggled to a sitting position, his feet on the floor.
"Sorry," he said, his head down.
Colleen shot him a dagger-like glare. Her sweet tones seemed very strained.
"I'm sorry, too, Sam." She dropped beside him and put her arms around him. "You'll make it tomorrow, honey. Just remember how good it was for you this afternoon!"
"Sure," he muttered. "Sure."
Jean beat a hasty retreat. As soon as she was in her car, and driving away, down the alley, she could hold her laughter no longer. What a scream! Taking Sam's treat. She doubted that he could make it, anyway-but she had really wrecked his effort.
She would keep working on the two lovers.' She would fix Colleen's wagon.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT'S DIFFERENT THAN WITH A MAN, LOVE....
Jean had just finished putting on her makeup when she heard a knock on her apartment door. She had slept late, and she felt very rested and refreshed. It was ten-thirty. One of the first things she had to do was get her father alone and have a heart-to-heart talk with him.
She hoped he had come by her apartment to see her.
Dressed in panties and bra, with a thin wrapper belted at her waist, she walked to the front door and opened it.
Donna Anderson stood there, smiling, looking very attractive in skin-tight stretch-pants and an equally snug jersey. Her bright brown eyes swept over Jean's figure.
"Good morning!" Donna said, in her friendly manner. "Thought I'd drop over and keep you company."
"Well, come in!" Jean said. "You look bushy-tailed this morning."
""Had a dull night. This town's no place for vacation." She swayed to a sofa and sat down.
Jean closed the door and joined her. She remembered her thoughts of the previous evening, a-bout the possibility of having a little girlish diversion. Donna sat with her long legs apart, and the curve of her femininity was clearly visible under the hug of her colorful tights. Her makeup and grooming were perfection. She had a devil-may-care gleam in her eyes.
"Maybe we can liven things up," Jean said, winking. She flet a stir of excitement, recalling Donna's hints of the evening before. "Like a drink?"
"If it's gin," Donna said. "Makes my panties burn."'
"Your in that kind of mood, huh?"
Donna leaned nearer. Her glance went to the jut of Jean's bra under the filmy wrapper. "You know what I mean.'"
Jean smiled. "I like gin, too...." She rose and went into the kitchenette, her heart pounding faster then usual. She found a nearly-full bottle of gin and soon had two martinis mixed. She felt her nipples rise against the cling of her wispy bra. How did girls manage it?
When she had first awakened she had been a little itchy. Her shower had cooled her desire, but now it was starting up again. Apparently Donna didn't mind Jean's size, her bigness.
Jean returned to the living room and handed Donna the very dry martini. She sat down and Donna moved closer. Donna's breasts looked very pointy under the tight blue jersey. Her lilac perfume invaded Jean's nostrils.
"I haven't had any fun for weeks," Donna murmured, sipping her drink. "Talk about a bunch of squares, this burg's got 'em!" Her voice took on an intimate tone. "You look luscious, Jean...."
"I had a good go-around before I took the plane yesterday," Jean laughed. The gin was warming her tummy, fanning out through her loins. "We had to hurry it a little! One thing I don't like is making a deadline."
Donna giggled. "It's awful to rush a good thing! Was it good?"
"Very! This guy had a real big one."
Donna laughed, wetting her red lips with a restless tongue. She opened her legs way apart, her left knee brushing Jean's thigh.
I've never touched another girl, Jean thought. But it might be a new kind of thrill. And I won't have to pay for favors, either!
Donna finished her drink and put the empty glass on a coffee table. Jean did the same, her chest tight. The mood was building; there was an element of naughtiness in thinking about fun with another girl, and it wasn't like picking up a complete stranger. She had known Donna for years. It was simply that the slim girl had lived in a big city for a while and had wised up. They were no longer kids.
Maybe I would like it, Jean thought, her thighs turning warm and prickly. She remembered she had told Donna she had tried it with girls, wanting to appear sophisticated.
"I lied last night," Jean said, feeling her cheeks warm. "I haven't ever ... with a gir!"
Donna smiled. "I really didn't think so, last night-but I wasn't going to bring it up. The right man is okay ... I told you I was married once. I might marry again ... for security...."
Donna reached out and opened the folds of Jean's nylon wrapper. Jean trembled. A soft hand cupped one of her breasts, and her nipple swelled tinglingly.
"Ohhhh, neat!" Donna breathed. "You're firm."
She did have good breast. She needed no-foam padding.
Jean softened, feeling a wave of spicy tingles course along her body. She knew right away who would be the aggressor. Donna came nearer, her lips parted, aiming for Jean's mouth.
"You'll love it, honey," Donna breathed, her deft fingers opening Jean's bra. "In high school I used to watch the nice roll of your hips, but I was too green to know what I needed. You're so soft...."
Donna's mouth found Jean's, and a wave of sparks seemed to shoot from her tongue-tip as it wiggled inward, fluttering between Jean's lips. Donna's touches on Jean's nipples created little shivers of delight.
It's different than with a man, Jean thought. And I do like it.
Donna's lively tongue began to slide sensuously in and out. Jean reached out and cupped her hand over a jutty mound. Donna wore no bra! Jean felt the slim girl's nipple perk out against the cling of the jersey. Jean coiled her tongue around the invading probe.
Donna's hand grew more daring, caressing Jean's tingly breasts gently but surely, and the sweet twinges of need grew and grew. Colleen's strivings of the night before, watching her crouched on the bed, had been a source of stimulation.
Donna's mouth lifted, at last. "You are hot, aren't you, honey?" Donna whispered.
Jean nodded. She watched Donna's hand on her breasts, and her thighs opened. She tugged the jersey loose from Donna's tights, and slipped her hand up underneath to the hard cones of the slim girl's breast.
"That's it, play with me, too," Donna urged. "I've been starved ever since I hit town."
Cupping another girl's charms gave Jean a special thrill. She wondered why she hadn't tried it before!
Donna's lips wandered lower. Her hand dropped to Jean's legs, opening the filmy wrapper. Donna's nipples were spiking, and she trembled.
"I'm going to kiss your beautiful breasts now, honey," Donna whispered. At the same time her hand glided in on the rounded areas of Jean's widening thighs, caressing skillfully. Sugary thrills raced through Jean's loins, up to her achy nipples.
Donna teased her tongue and lips all around Jean's spires before she finally drew a swollen tip between her lips.
"Ohhhh!" Jean cried.
The clever fingers were now on Jean's panties, tracing the outline of her femininity, squeezing gently, pressing until Jean cried out again.
"That's-good!"
"I'll make it feel even better, honey!" Donna teased.
Jean's breasts were firmed with desire, seeming to throb deliciously with each kiss, with each sly caress of Donna's knowing tongue.
Now Donna's hand slipped into Jean's panties. Jean shivered, widening her plump thighs, her bottom rising to meet the touch of the practiced finger that went along the edge of her other lips, creating voluptuous waves of pleasure.
Only another girl would know where to fondle and tease. The little stings of delight, as Donna played with Jean grew sharper, more delectable. Jean felt the hot flow of her desire.
"Have a little quickie, honey!" Donna breathed around a rigid nipple.
"Ohhhh!" Jean gasped. "Ohhhh-I do need it-ohhh ... honey!"
Donna slowed her caresses and kisses, letting Jean hang a moment. The little coilings of her need were a balm to her nerves, spreading all through her body.
"Come on, now, baby!" Donna urged, her breath quickening. "Come on to Donna! You're about ready ... That's it, lift up, open out ... Easy, now. Not too fast ... Isn't that nice? All right! You're going to make it, this time!"
The honeyed nuances made Jean's whole body flutter and quake. She made several coital lifts; Donna played more surely with the swollen tip of Jean's want-and suddenly the built-up passion in her loins exploded.
"Ohhhh ... Oh ... Ohhhh!" Jean shouted.
A cascade of delectable spasms rocked her; she gripped Donna and sank into the trough of sluttish release, as she felt her little gun going bang, bang, bang!
It was rich and good, so deeply satisfying. The wonder of it ran through her being, like a flood. She had discovered a whole new area of sensation.
Jean quieted, at last. The hand remained on her femininity, holding her while the sweet aftermath bathed her nerves, making her slump back on the sofa, while she caught her breath.
""Now, aren't you glad?" Donna whispered, nuzzling Jean's breasts with her lips. "You really went off hard!"
"Well, I guess I did!" Jean sighed. She laughed, softly. "I didn't think it could be so wild!"
"We'll have all kinds of fun, honey," Donna purred, pressing and squeezing Jean's moist femininity. "Now, you go in and clean up a little, and we'll have a ball...." She drew her hand out of Jean's panties. "I brought something in my purse that might give you a little extra thrill."
Jean took a deep breath. She knew she wanted to, again. She also had things to do-like keeping Colleen away from Sam. But right now she was too involved in her own enjoyment. Sam wouldn't be able to resist the sneaky brunette forever.
Colleen might even try to persuade Sam to elope. A horrible thought, really. But, if his sawmill deal wasn't quite wound up, which Jean understood to be the case, he would have to stick around and sign the papers.
She left the sofa, winking at Donna. "Be right back, honey! That was one of the best go-rounds I ever had!"
CHAPTER SIX
"NOW ... NOW ... NOW...."
Carl Zeller left Eddie's Bakery Bar, climbed in his pickup truck and drove slowly toward his office. The night before he had seen a nice big blonde at the counter, sitting all alone, and he had asked Eddie some questions about her.
She was Jean Sampson, her old man had owned the sawmill until he had sold it, just recently. Jean had been in California lately. She had never married.
Carl was more than casually interested in Jean. She didn't look twenty-five, she had a sensuous way of walking, even though her hips were large and there was something very dainty and sexy in her every gesture. Her blonde hair had the sheen of youth and good health. She had a passionate-looking mouth, full and wide.
Carl had watched Jean talking to another girl who had come in the Bar, and he listened to her voice, soft and compelling. The slim, athletic types had never appealed to Carl, somehow. He had passed over the brown-haired one, focusing all of his attention on the blonde.
He wanted to meet her-he was determined to.
He had never had any trouble attracting the dames; he was tall and dark and handsome enough. He was successful. Since coming to Troy a year earlier he had built his logging outfit into the biggest in the area. He had an agreement with the new owner of the Sampson Sawmill.
His trouble around the gals had always been a deep, ingrained shyness. He couldn't think of bright, clever things to say. His former wife had called him dull; she had taken off with a traveling salesman. She had told him he was a dud in the bedroom, too afraid to let go.
Carl was forty and he was frankly looking around for a wife. The sight of Jean had stirred his interest and passion. She appeared friendly and had a sense of humor-things he needed in a girl.
How could he meet her? Her father was no longer head of mill operation; he was in the process of selling out. Still, he, Carl, could pretend that Sam Sampson was still involved, and go talk to him. Maybe he would run into Jean.
Eddie had told Carl that Jean was in town to attend her father's wedding.
Carl made up his mind to go by Sam's apartment. It was three in the afternoon. He steered his pickup away from Main and drove toward the Sampson apartment.
When Jean came out of the bathroom of her apartment, she saw that Donna was naked. Jean had removed her panties and bra and wore only her thin wrapper. She was still shivery inside, remembering the thrill she experienced in Donna's arms.
The slim girl looked even more boyish without clothes than when she had been fully dressed. The extra width of her trim hips and the delicious put of her brown-tipped breasts dispelled the illusion, of course. She had her share of feminine appeal.
"Ready for more fun, honey?" Donna asked, smiling. She was opening her purse, fishing around inside. Finally she came out with an object that Jean was entirely familiar with.
Jean laughed intimately. "Is that for you ... or me?"
Donna giggled. She held the base of the object up to her vee and rotated her hips. "Ever tried it, honey?"
"A few times," Jean said, drifting to the sofa.
"I see you're not too shocked ... I thought we might as well have a real party. I mixed some more drinks, too."
Jean sat down and opened her wrapper. Donna's eyes lit up, and she moved over to stand in front of Jean. Her slim thighs drifted apart and, with the object still held to her femininity, she made hunching motions with her hips.
Jean felt a stir of desire. This was something out of a stag movie, something Donna had learned in the big city.
"Getting hot again, honey?" Donna murmured.
"Sure. Why don't you sit down here close to me?"
"It's my turn, isn't it?" Donna laughed. "Well, yes."
Donna swung down to sit on Jeans left. She leaned back, thighs wide apart, and handed the rubber object to Jean.
"Now, kiss my titties and play with me and-then you know what to do, don't you?"
Jean nodded. She put the object aside for the moment. It disturbed her to have it right out in sight; she had only used one when she was real-ly in need. And always when she was alone.
The idea of fondling Donna made her heart pound. She reached for the slim girl, her hunger mounting. She ran her hand along the smooth inner planes of Donna's thighs, leaning over Donna's breasts.
Donna's hand wandered down between Jean's legs, finding the curve there.
"Tease me up slow," Donna breathed. "It takes me quite a while to start swinging. I'm not as fast on the trigger as you, honey."
Jean shivered, curling her hips against the hug of Donna's hand. Traces of excitement were beginning already, little twinges of delight.
She drew one of Donna's nipples between her lips. Donna wiggled and arched her pert mounds forward. This was more stimulating than Jean had expected. She felt Donna's shiver of application. Donna's finger located Jean's sensitivity.
"Ohhhh!" Donna moaned.
Jean found the slim girl's point of need, bedded in the soft lips of her vee, and began to play with it.
"Ohhhh ... that's the way!" Donna breathed, hotly.
Jean opened her thighs so Donna could return the intimate caresses. Jean's thighs burned, her breasts ached for attention.
Suddenly the whole act didn't seem quite as thrilling as Jean, had expected. Perhaps she wasn't as worldly as Donna, perhaps the idea of lesbianism was beginning to pall, slightly. Did she prefer men, even if she paid for them? Well, I won't be a piker, Jean thought. She gave me a good time; I'll give her one, too.
Slowly Jean sank back on the sofa, giving and receiving hot, sensuous touches.
"Keep teasing me, honey!" Donna cried. "It getting better!"
Donna began to lift her hips against Jean's toying finger. Donna's breathing was uneven. Her red lips were parted, her nipples tightly swollen. Jean kissed them again and the slim girl moaned. Her hips went around and around.
Suddenly she seized the dildo and Jean, seeing what Donna intended, withdrew her hand. Donna seemed unaware of Jean, now. She inserted the object and commenced bouncing her hips, legs sprawled far apart. Donna panted and strained.
"Stand behind the sofa and play with the titties!" Donna cried, pausing in her act.
Jean did as she was asked, feeling a kind of apartness now. Donna was losing herself in her wild rise to culmination. Jean, leaning over the slim girl, cupping the hard, pointed charms, could look straight down, see the object go in and out, in and out....
"Ohhh ... it's going to be good!" .Donna cried, worming her hips, stroking the object slowly, then in little short bursts.
Jean felt a lessening of her desire. The whole scene began to have a kind or feeling unnaturalness. She had, on occasion, done the same thing to herself, so she couldn't object, really?
It went on and on.
But finally, Donna reached the point of no return. She stiffened, her breasts in Jean's hand trembled, and the strokings came in long, deep sweeps....
"Ohhhh-I'm about there!" Donna cried, her hips tossing.
Jean whispered in Donna's ear. "Come on, honey-come on to Mama!"
Donna shuddered, and Jean felt the throb of the orgasm against her palms, in the tautening of Donna's nipples.
"Ohhhh ... damn!" Donnna shouted. Ohhh ... Ohhh . ... now . ... now . ... now ... NOW!"
Donna nearly squirmed out of Jean's grasp. The waves of pleasure seemed to communicate through Jean's hand, and she released Donna, staggering into a chair, thighs wide apart. She touched herself and while the whimpers of Donna's joyful climax knifed in Jean's ears, Jean felt the stings of her own pleasure. It came in sweet, sharp waves, twisting her body, making her breasts very hard and pointed, and she had to shout, too. But it was not entirely satisfying.
When she drew her hand away from her femininity, Jean felt a deeper shame than she had ever known.
Do I have any decency left? she wondered. Is this what a lonely woman ends up doing? What will Donna want me to do for her next time?
Donna left the sofa, finally, and disappear in the bathroom. Jean rose from her chair, found her wrapper, and slipped it around her body. The glow of relaxation she usually felt after sexual release was missing.
Well, I tried it, and I think I prefer men, she thought, sinking down on the sofa. A core of need, deep inside, hadn't been appeased. The clitorol excitements were fun, but that was about the extent of it.
Donna came out of the bathroom, still nude. She swayed up to the sofa and sat down beside Jean. She patted Jean's thigh.
"Talk about flipping, I really did!" Donna said.
"I had one too," Jean murmured.
"I thought you would, honey ... I really needed that!" Her voice softened intimately. "You have something special, Jean. You're so wonderful!"
Jean glance at her wrist watch. Nearly noon.
"I like you, too, Donna. But I've got things to do today...."
"Oh, honey!" Donna protested. "I thought we'd stay here a while and have some more fun."
"We can get together tonight," Jean hedged.
"Mmmmmm. Whatever you say...." Donna held her hands up to her pointy breasts. "You really made 'em hard, honey! This is going to be a wonderful vacation, after all."
Jean wanted to take a shower, get rid of the cloying lilac fragrance. "Well, naturally," she said. In spite of her wish for a man, she found herself looking forward to the next time with Donna....
I'm all mixed up, now, she thought, gazing down at Donna's girlish curves. I wish I could have a man just once I didn't have to pay for. And if I don't break up Sam and Colleen, I might not be able to afford even that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HIS LOOK WAS PURE LUST AND SET HER TO SHIVERING....
At twelve thirty Jean parked her car in front of her father's apartment. She still hadn't had a chance to talk to him alone. His big car was in its slot, and she hoped Colleen wasn't around. She approached the apartment door and the sound of a pickup truck pulling into the parking area turned her around.
A big tall, broad-shouldered man climbed out. A shy smile touched his mouth, and she felt his brown eyes lingering on her. She had seen him in Troy. Hadn't he been sitting in Eddie's Bakery Bar the previous evening? Donna had come along and....
"Miss," the man said, hesitantly. "I'm looking for Sam Sampson...."
Jean smiled back at him. Her spirits had lifted a bit after Donna had left her apartment. Who was this big, virile devil, anyway? Probably married, like every other halfway decent male in the home town.
He walked nearer, and she could hardly believe that his admiring glaces were intended for her. She wore a light summer frock of pale yellow, tucked in at the waist, short skirted. She wore no nylons, as the day was turning warm. The skirt flared out so her hips wouldn't be quite so noticeable. The scooped neckline did display her breasts well, however. She had put on all fresh undies and a very light-weight slip.
"I'm Carl Zeller," the man said, still rather shyly. "A logging contractor...."
"You came to the right place," Jean said, brightly, flattered at his appraisal. "I'm Jean Sampson, Sam's one and only daughter. I'll see if he's in-his car's here."
"Thank you," Carl answered. "Glad to know you."
"Oh, call me Jean." She laughed. "All the local people call me Hips."
He flushed. She had never seen a grown man so confused. She observed that he wore no wedding ring. Of course, a. lot of married men didn't.
"Are you new in town?" she asked, checking her blonde har. She was in no hurry to ring Sam's doorbell. His brown eyes had a real warmth. Was he actually admiring her, big hips and all? Amazing! He looked around thirty-eight, maybe forty. His strong-looking face was tanned, and she considered him quite handsome. Maybe rugged and very manly were better words.
He wore a clean plaid shirt, open at the throat, and tight Levis. Not a trace of gray in his dark, wavy hair.
II he puts his hands on me, I'll go limp, she thought.
"Yes," he answered, at last. His voice was deep, masculine. "Is your father still connected with the mill?"
"No, he's sold out-just the finishing touches to take care of...." She walked toward him, her heart pounding. "I'm a very direct person, Carl, and I'm very glad to know you!" She laughed, winking. "I envy your wife."
He flushed again. He actually took a step backward! "I'm ... not married, Jean."
Well, what do you know! she said, to herself.
She smiled. "I'm not either.'"
He stood there, nervously. She was sure he wanted to say something positive; he seemed quite excited, but obviously he was much too backward to make the first move....
"I can see Dad later," she said, in her friendliest tone." She glanced across the street where a new luncheonette had recently been opened.
"Would you consider buying me a coke?"
"Sure!"
They walked across to the luncheonette. He was at least six-two. Her heart fluttered. There were a lot of naive men in the world, but generally the good-looking ones were too forward, too sure of themselves. They had all the right answers, and they liked the slender, round-bottomed gals with the model figures.
"I kid around a lot, Carl," she said. "So if I say something to embarrass you, just forget it ... Are you always so quiet?"
He nodded. His smile made her shiver. He had even white teeth. She could tell by looking at him that he was successful; around men he no doubt acted more sure of himself.
"I saw you in the Bakery Bar last night," he said, as they neared the lunch counter.
She felt a sharp nudge of excitement. "Really? I'm flattered you noticed." She added a little dryly. "I usually play second fiddle to the slim girls-like the gal I was talking to...."
"She didn't appeal to me," he said, seeming to find it easier to talk.
"You're killing me with kindness," she answered, very glad now she had gotten rid of Donna.
They entered the cafe and Jean led the way to a booth at the rear. He sat down opposite her, his eyes still warm, lingering on the contours of her breasts. She knew the cleft between them was visible. She leaned toward him so he could see more, if he wished.
A hunger seemed to build in his eyes. Yes. he was looking, right down between her charms ... Then, as though caught snitching candy, he jerked his gaze away.
The waitress came and he busied himself with looking at the menu, sipping water from his glass. Jean watched the young girl admire Carl. He was that kind of man. He ordered coffee and Jean had a coke. The waitress gave Jean a cool glance, as if to say, what can he see in that tub? The girl was slender and well-proportioned.
When the waitress left, Jean laughed softly.
"She likes you, Carl."
He acted confused. "I'm satisfied with you."
She smiled her thanks. She swung the conversation around to his business. She had worked in the mill office, and she understood his work. He was opening up, becoming more relaxed. It was good to be near him, and a slim hope began to build within her.
At last he made the opening she wanted. "Are you ... doing anything tonight, Jean?"
"No...."
"Would you possibly go out with me?"
"I'd love it," she said, her heart jumping a-round. "If you can stand such a big girl!"
"Don't say things like that," he admonished. "You're ... very nice and-I like you!"
If he only knew what I was doing this morning, she thought, guiltily.
As she walked back across the street, waving to Carl, her whole day seemed brighter. He had her address and phone number and he was coming by to pick her up at eight o'clock.
I'll have to stall Donna off, she thought. She was still shivery inside, thinking about Carl. His reserved manner, his way of treating her as a special person, not so much in what he said, but the way his eyes held hers, the small gestures of his big, capable hands, made her feel like a young girl again.
He was treating her like a lady!
After her reckless years of renting males, growing rather hardened inside, taking what thrills she could find, this was a totally new experience.
Having such a big, completely virile man, a man of quality, pay her compliments with his glances, was a. very uplifting sensation, making her feel deliciously feminine.
If only he wasn't so shy!
She realized, as she had before, that she could probably find and marry some if she weren't too fussy. But it would be a degrading move to take just anybody. She had sex appeal; she always kept herself neat and well-groomed. The men she had bought hadn't ever complained, but then they couldn't very well, she thought wryly. It was simply that she had decided to have fun without losing her head and her heart to just anything with pants on. She had seen girls do that.
But could she adjust her moral concepts back into reasonably normal channels?
Men apparently could do it, easily. Married males were a whore's best customers. She knew local men of stature who slipped into Missoula now and then and took on a prostitute.
But why split hairs? Maybe Carl simply wanted female company for a while. Anything beyond that she didn't plan on. Being treated like a lady might be refreshing, at least! Maybe he liked big-hipped girls.
If she and Carl didn't hit it off, she could go back to her old ways. At least she wouldn't lose her pride. She wouldn't marry some slob.
Meanwhile, she had to see Sam. Colleen was moving in for the kill.
She punched Sam's doorbell button, heard the muffled chiming inside, and a moment later the door opened.
Her father smiled. "Come on in! We've hardly had a chance to talk since you came back."
"Hardly," she said. From his manner she knew Colleen wasn't around. She decided not to mention Carl Zeller. She wanted to think about that some more, and then wait to see what was going to happen, if anything.
Her father always acted a little formal a-round her. He didn't hug her or kiss her on the cheek, as he had when she was younger. She felt she was something of an enigma to him. She hadn't married, she had developed a kind of aloofness, from being alone so much. She got the idea that somehow she had disappointed him; he had old-fashioned ideas. Perhaps he had wanted an heir, a grandson.
And she was bothered sometimes by the impression that he might have wished for a son instead of a daughter.
"I'm glad you came home right away, for the wedding," Sam remarked, waving her into a chair.
"I'd like to talk to you about that," she answered. "Are you sure Colleen's the right woman for you, Dad?"
He scowled. She thought he looked a little tired. She smiled to herself when she thought of how she had cheated him out of his fun the night before. He was probably overdoing the sex bit, especially for a man of his years.
"I know what people are saying," Sam replied, on the defensive. "She's been married several times, she's after my money ... But ... But she's a grand girl, Jean. Attractive, considerate." He paced as he talked, a habit he had had for years. "Don't you want me to enjoy life a little, now? The mill's sold...." He stopped in front of her. "Are you thinking about my will? Is that it?"
Jean felt a little uncomfortable. Sam was no fool when it came to business.
"You've treated me very well, Dad. Maybe you even spoiled me a little with money ... But I hate to see you rush into this. Colleen's a lot younger than you. Are you sure you can make her ... happy?"
It was a old trite expression, but she couldn't say right out, are you sure you can give her enough? Are you sure she won't be out cheating on you?
Sam finished, "I don't think that's any of your business!"
"Sorry, Dad...." She realized she had made a mistake. She had wounded his maleness. She would have to be more subtle.
She left the chair and walked up to him. She touched his arm. "I really am sorry...." if he gets too mad he might disinherit me! Colleen is a very lovely girl-and I wish you all the luck in the world!"
He smiled, and the hurt in his eyes disappeared. "Now, that's better! I was a mite embarrassed yesterday. You came in at a rather inconvenient time...."
She laughed. "I'm grown up. I like a little fun myself once in a while."
He cleared his throat, his neck still a little red. They had never talked this way.
She thought, if he had come out of the bathroom and seen his sweetie playing herself to a climax, what would he do? Where would his pride as a lover be?
"I keep forgetting you're a woman, now," he answered, finally. "If you have a boy friend in Santa Barbara, why didn't you bring him a-long?"
"I can wait till I get back," she said, winking.
He flushed again.
If he knew what I've been doing, he'd flip, she thought. But Donna will keep her mouth shut.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HIS MALENESS GREW IN HER HAND....
As Jean left her father's apartment she saw Colleen drive up and park. Jean took her time walking toward her rental car. Colleen glided out, smoothed her frock over her hips and smiled at Jean.
"Still trying, honey?"
"Dad and I just had a little chat," Jean said, innocently
Colleen's eyes moved up and down Jean's figure in a way that, considering her recent experience with Donna, gave Jean food for thought. Was Colleen that way, too? Jean looked closely at the rather slim, rounded figure, the long legs, breasts not too large. Her shoulders were not exactly girlish, eithera bit wide. But then, physical proportions didn't have to indicate lesbianism....
"Having trouble buying men here in Troy?" Colleen asked, dryly.
"I'm doing all right, darling," Jean answered, cattily. "I haven't had to use my hand yet, anyway!"
Colleen glared. "I'm glad we understand each other, anyway!" Her voice changed, subtly. "You and I don't have to be enemies ... I'm sure Sam will see that you have enough money.""
"I'll try to be more cooperative,'" Jean said, remembering the incident of the previous night, when she had interrupted Sam's pleasure. "But don't be too sure of yourself...."
Colleen turned, shooting Jean a cold glance. "See you at the wedding, honey!"
Jean smiled. "Maybe, darling. Just maybe."
Colleen walked away, her hips swinging angrily. Jean climbed into her car, started the motor. Her smile remained. Before leaving her father's apartment, when Sam was out of the living room, she had opened her purse, found a little package she carried, and had sprinkled itching powder-finely cut human hair-all over the big sofa where Colleen had beeen sprawled, her thighs apart, panting out her climax that Sam hadn't been able to give her.
Jean hoped they would be playing around there again. A vision of Colleen scratching her rump brought a giggle from Jean's lips.
Maybe tonight I can cause more mischief, she thought.
Of course, she might be so pleasantly occupied with Carl Zeller, she wouldn't have time. She found herself still excited about going out with him. A real date. How different!
Colleen let Sam unzip her frock. After a few kisses, when she had first entered his apartment, he had become quite enthused. She almost hated the touch of his hands on her body. The old goat! Did he think because he hadn't made it the night before, that he could today?
Well, at this stage of the game, she had to be very cooperative! Let him try, at least.
He fumbled with the hem of her frock, his hand in on her thighs, rather clumsily, and she spread so he could feel more freely.
They were on the sofa where he had managed to finish the day before, after a straining, pumping session. He seemed to like this particular piece of furniture. She would have preferred the bed-but right now he was the boss.
He won't be for long, though, she thought, imitating her passion, as Sam's hand wandered up to her vee.
"You just make me shiver all over, honey!" she whispered, lifting her hips.
He trembled. His trousers were starting to bulge. She reached out and caressed his still-covered loins.
"You're so good to me, darling!" he breathed. "I like those thin panties you wear."
"They're for you, honey," she purred, wincing inside. She opened his trousers. He was like a little boy, with the prospect of having a candy bar. She hoped she could satisfy him with a minimum of playing around, letting him feel her body for a while.
She shrugged her frock from her shoulders, exposing her bra. She had found that he liked black, lacy undies, so of course she had worn them today. She had to nail him down before Jean could cause any real trouble.
There was a suspicion in her mind about the cat fight outside her bedroom window; the timing had been too close. She was glad, naturally, that Sam hadn't been able to finish, but the notion that Jean might have lurked out in the darkness, creating a disturbance, made Colleen furious.
I'll fix her yet, she thought, as Sam's hand grew bolder. Once we're married, I'll try to cheat her out of all the money I can.
"Let me undress, honey," Colleen said, knowing now that Sam wanted to try to finish what he hadn't been able to the night before. He was growing rigid.
It was the price she had to pay. Maybe she could slip away for the evening and go into Missoula. Sally Bell would give her what she needed.
She left the sofa and stood in from of Sam while she lifted her frock over her head. Her half-slip was thin, smoky nylon. Sam's eyes seemed to glaze with his desire. He began to undress. He did it rather bashfully. His hands shook.
When he was naked, she sank down beside him, wearing only her bra and panties. His withered arms and legs gave her a feeling of revulsion.
"You're so big and strong, honey," she lied, patting his legs, pouring on the charm, leaning close so he could sniff her perfume and stare at her figure. She weaved her bottom on the sofa, arching her breasts forward.
Sam squirmed, breathing faster, and she imitated more passion by doing the same. She cozied his manhood, keeping her eyes away from his loins, trying to think of Sally. The vision wouldn't come. Sam's strong 'mannish' cologne almost made her cringe.
I can put up with a lot for a couple of million, she thought.
"Like me to kiss you-down there, honey?" she whispered, in her best intimate tones. Maybe she could work him up to the point where the straining and thrusting would be minimized.
He trembled. "Damn!" he said, very excited. "Would you, darling?"
"Anything for my lover man," she cooed.
As she leaned her head down, she felt an itchiness on her bottom. Strange. She had showered only an hour or so earlier, at her apartment. At the same time she noticed Sam's right hand leave her thighs and aim for his own big behind. His maleness, in her hand, grew less rigid.
She couldn't help wiggling as the need to scratch her bottom became almost overwhelming. What in the devil was going on? She just had to scratch her rump! What an unlady-like thing to do!
She scratched herself. Sam was doing the same. A curse came from his lips as his arousal faded.
Her whole hind end burned, and not with passion.
"Damn it! Sam growled. "My rump's bothering me...."
Colleen hated to admit it, but she could see another failure for Sam. She rubbed her bottom again, and the stinging merely increased.
Sam struggled to his feet, his face red with anger. "Somebody's played a, trick on us!" he growled.
"I'm afraid so," she answered, rising. The itchy sensations made her reach around once more. Her panties were clean, it couldn't be some chemical in the thin nylon. Sam was really rubbing and scraping his rump.
"Somebody put itching powder on the sofa!" Sam said, darkly. "I'll fire that housekeeper!'"
Colleen knew, then. Jean! She had been here, earlier. Colleen had heard about Jean's pranks; Sam had mentioned that his daughter loved practical jokes. Jean had guessed, from previous experience, that Colleen and Sam would be cavorting around on the big sofa, as they had before, and the sly, big-bottomed girl had got her licks in again.
There was an element of the comic now in the way Sam was digging at his seat. But it wasn't funny the way her own rump burned and itched.
Damn her, Colleen thought. II she could see us now she'd laugh her head off!
She knew better than to lay the blame on Sam's daughter. He was quite fond of Jean.
Anyway, I didn't have to work on him, she thought. Getting him off is quite a disgusting chore.
She had to be careful, though. Sam might even start thinking she, Colleen, had put the itching powder on the sofa. She had never seen him so enraged. His manliness had been found wanting again.
"Honey, we'll take a shower and try to enjoy ourselves later," she said, soothingly.
He nodded, still mad. He picked up his clothes and walked toward the bathroom.
CHAPTER NINE
FEEL ME UP....
Jean sat as close to Carl as she dared, considering his behavior of the previous hour or so.
After he had picked her up they had gone out to dinner, and then he had suggested an outdoor theater. This hadn't surprised her too much; he had trouble making conversation, and with the movie going he wouldn't have to say much.
A young couple in the car next to theirs was necking up a storm, and she had seen Carl's eyes drift that way several times.
He had been extrememly courteous, opening doors for her, flattering her with his eyes, but his shyness was still predominant. At dinner she had led the conversation around to his work, and things had gone along much smoother.
She had taken extra care with her grooming. And since the frock she had worn that afternoon had obviously pleased him, she had worn another almost like it. The bodice came lower, though, and the skirt was a trifle shorter.
Enough indirect light came into the front seat of his car to display the thrust of her breasts in the frilly decolletage, and also the drawn-back hem of her frock at her knees.
A warm glow was building inside her. His aura of maleness caused all kinds of responses within; she ached to have him touch her, but so far they hadn't even held hands! He sat rather rigidly at the wheel. She was sure she appealed to him, strongly-but how could she break this barrier of his innate bashfulness?
It was thrilling to have a real date, have a man pay her the kind of attentions she had been denied in her earlier years. At the same time she didn't know whether it would be safe to 'fall' for him. If her past ever caught up with her she'd be dead.
A man like Carl was looking for a wife. Could she 'settle down' with one man? Could she act shy and lady-like, as he would expect? She had done a fairly good job, so far. And she didn't want to hurt him, either.
Donna Anderson had beeen quite upset about breaking their date. Jean had promised to see her the next day. The girl-fun had been different, new and sparkly, even if it hadn't been completely satisfying.
Jean decided she would have to risk being more forward. Carl was tense, on edge. He was a little too serious about things. They needed a lighter touch, something to break the ice.
She slid a little closer to Carl and rested her head on his broad shoulder. Her skirt slid back a bit further. She felt him tremble. Although he pretended to be watching the movie, a romantic western, he obviously wasn't.
She sighed and took a deep breath. The expansion of her chest made her bodice draw more tightly about her breasts.
"Why don't you put your arm around me, Carl?" she whispered.
He started. "Sure!" he exclaimed.
His right hand left the steering wheel. She felt a tingle of excitement as his strong arm circled her shoulders. She allowed herself to snuggle nearer, and permitted her thighs to drift a-part. The motion drew her skirt back even further.
"Those kids in the next car are having quite a time, aren't they?" she murmured, giggling.
His head turned, and his arm tightened. Oh, he was so strong! Her thighs were burning already. She hadn't worn nylons. She had noticed that the local girls scorned them during the summer months. Her panties and bra were her lightest and sheerest.
His mouth brushed against her hair. She wanted a kiss in the worst possible way. She had been thinking about him ever since they had met; she had imagined his capable hands on her thighs, under her skirt, on her breasts, and she was shivery with anticipation.
Impulsively, she turned her head and offered him her lips. This was kid stuff, but maybe it would lead to the goal she needed.
"You sweet thing!" he gasped, and then his mouth was on hers, at last.
She softened and slid her arms boldly around his neck. Flutters of desire made her quake. She pressed herself closer, feeling her thigh tingle where it touched his leg. He kissed her hard, but there wasn't much action. His tongue didn't come out. She writhed her lips under his and flicked her tongue-tip forward.
He shuddered. Why didn't he cup her breasts? They ached to be fondled!
His mouth lifted, much too soon.
"Jean-you're wonderful!" he gasped. How trite, and old-fashioned! Even the TV actors didn't use that any more.
"I like you very much, Carl," she answered, squeezing his shoulders with her fingers. She touched the nape of his neck. Couldn't he tell she was dying for his hands on her thighs, sliding higher and higher?
She wanted to reach down and shape the bulge in his trousers-because he was obvious-ly aroused. But she didn't know how he'd react to that.
"Jean-will you go out with meagain?" he asked, his voice tight with emotion.
"Of course," she answered, bringing her lips nearer, breathing into his mouth. How corny!
He kissed her lingeringly. His body shuddered, and he jerked away from her mouth, fighting the emotion that gripped him.
Let go, she wanted to shout. Feel me up, make me hot!
But no, he was going to be a gentleman. Not even a touch on her breasts!
He walked her to the door of her apartment, and she melted against him. She was burning; she couldn't recall when she had been so aroused His arms went around her waist and he kissed her again. She was afraid to demonstrate the depth of her feeling. It was going to take time, evidently, to bring him around.
"Like to come in for a minute?" she whispered, hopefully.
He held her almost reverently. "Jean, you know I want to!" he said, his voice choked. "Are you ... sure about this?"
She felt a tug of anger. How ridiculous could it get? He acted like it was the biggest thing since atomic power. Affection and adoration were great, but only to a point. He was a man-he was dying for-but he was trying to put her on a pedestal.
"No, I guess I'm not sure," she said, cruelly. He backed away, his arms dropping. "Jean ... please!"
Her rage mounted. "When you grow up, come around, Carl! I'm a woman, not a marble statue."
She turned and ran. She opened the apartment door and went in. She slammed it after her-hard.
She heard his retreating-footfalls, then finally the sound of his car starting.
I hurt him, and he probably won't be around again, she thought. How stupid can a man be?
She sank into a chair, spreading her thighs. She was still furiously aroused; even her anger hadn't driven the aching need away.
I guess I'm a slut, after all, she thought, blackly.
She slid her hand under her skirt. She weaved her bottom, squirming with desire.
I wanted him in there, big and hard-the fool!
She realized she was being unjust. Every man acted differently. Perhaps she had grown too used to hired studs, quick action. Lots of girls never got screwed on their first date. He was being considerate....
She had chosen a way of life that might be impossible to overcome. How could she afford to 'fall in love?' The whole thing was ridiculous! She was still Hips Sampson, and nothing would change it.
She caressed her thighs, shivering. The idea of calling Donna crossed her mind, but she didn't want to wait. She was itchy for it, right now. Carl had really worked her up, and he hadn't even so much as touched her breasts!
She cupped her girl-mound and spread her legs wide. The delicious twinges of mounting desire fanned out through her body. Nice thin, silk-y panties, and he hadn't even fondled her! He was stupid!
She left the chair, went to her bedroom, adjusted the lights, and quickly undressed. Naked, she opened the bottom drawer of her vanity and found the object that could give her some measure of satisfaction.
Quickly she sprawled on the bed. She drew two pillows under her head so she could watch. Her left hand went to her jutting breasts, and she moved the other hand down between her legs. She wasn't quite ready for the object. It lay handily nearby, on the counterpane.
She began teasing her fingers across her swollen nipples, caressing the silky inner planes of her thighs where the sweet burning already was making her hips lift.
Stings of sensuous delight raced from one nipple to the other. An itchy flame burned in her loins. Her clitoris was erect, very sensitive.
She didn't even want to imagine that Carl was fondling her. She was still angry with him. Joe had been pretty good; maybe he would do for a sex-image while she had her fun. But the memory of him was rather faded, already.
I'll just do it for myself, she thought, shivering.
Her nipples were very sharp and tender. Quirts of pleasure rippled through her being. She teased her vee, tossing her hips, making the bed squeak. Already she was breathing swiftly.
Her hands quieted and she lay for a moment without moving, enjoying the anticipation. Her titties were so large! They were firmed into white peaks, with red strawberries at the crests. And oh, how sweet....
Slowly, carefully, she toyed again with her hands, building her passion, roatating her hips now as the little waves of delight came closer together. Her breasts throbbed.
At last she seized the object, aimed it and pushed it inward. She gasped. She remembered how Donna had used hers and the vision seemed to make Jean's pleasure even keener.
Ohhhh-slowly-in and out, in and out, deep and hard-then playfully out again....
She bucked her hips, panting. It was going to be real good. She held, floating in her thrall of rising want. The flame in her loins burned brighter. She felt the coiling of her innermost shaft of delight.
Now it was starting, the honeyed shivers wrenching her pelvis. Her nipples were fiery points.
Fun, fun, fun-wait-fun, fun, fun-wait-fun, fun-fun fun ohhhhhh-Fun, FUN ... OHHHHHH ... deep and hard, fast, faster....
The jerky spasms convulsed her body. The bed vibrated. She felt the exquisite pulsing of her climax, and she shouted, fiercely. "Ohhh ... OHHHHHH ... OH ... OH ... OHHH I'm Going!"
And right at the top of her joy, right at the heavenly peak of sensation, she couldn't keep the thought of Carl out of her mind, and suddenly he seemed to be buried in her, his hugh penis gouging out its freight of ecstasy!
The heavings, deep inside, had a wild intensity she hadn't known for months and months . .
At last the thrills diminished, and she went lax, breathing fast, drinking in the honey of her relief, the balm of aftermath.
But, as she stopped shaking, she was aware of her act, for the first time, as something a little depraved and unnatural. Why should it be any different than any other time?
Somehow, being with Carl had enriched her emotions, deepened her need. There was no other way to explain it. And why should she feeel shame, when she had rid herself of that notion years before? She felt empty and, somehow, lonely.
Feminine masturbation had been going on for centuries. She remembered the story she had heard about one method the Japanses girls employed.
A kind of tube containing metal balls was inserted in the vagina. The girl sat in a swing, and as the motion of her body caused the balls to roll back and forth in the tube, she adjusted the tempo of the swinging to suit her need for either a fast or slow rise to orgasm.
She had even considered trying it-but she hadn't been able to purchase the right equipment.
Now, why should going out with a shy, stupid man, make her resent having to release herself?
She tossed the object away from her. She turned over and pressed her face to the pillow. Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn't explain it. She was so sure that she was completely modern, completely hip....
Well, he won't spoil my fun the next time, she vowed. I'll keep my date with Donna! The hell with him!
CHAPTER TEN
HER MOUTH FOUND JEAN'S MOUND AND SHE QUIVERED....
"Isn't this a nice spot for a picnic?" Donna asked, glancing around the upland meadow where the two girls had driven the next day.
Jean nodded, not as enthused as she believed she would be when Donna had come by the apartment, proposing an outing. Jean liked the outdoors, but picnics generally called for shorts or slacks, and she didn't look good in either one. So, she had worn a short-skirted summery print dress.
Donna looked very pert and pretty in a tight blouse and revealing slacks. She had evidently gotten over her disappointment about the previous night.
Before leaving the apartment with Donna, Jean had called her father. He hadn't been in a very pleasant mood, and she wondered if the itching powder had worked. He had mentioned that he had been to a skin specialist ... There was one in Troy, she recalled.
She decided that she would drop by his place in the evening, and perhaps she could think up more mischief. The idea that Colleen might be a lesbian lingered in her mind, too. Maybe she could somehow expose her....
She had tried not to think about Carl. He was an enigma, and she liked things either black or white. He could latch onto some slim-hipped broad who would fit his ideas of how a girl should act.
She would soon be away from Troy, back in Santa Barbara, where good hired studs were available. None of this childish kissing and hypocritical morality.
The girls had finished their lunch, and the picnic things had all been put away in Jean's car. It was two o'clock in the afternoon. Time now to do what they had come out here for, and somehow Jean found herself not as anxious for girlish dalliance as she had anticipated. Perhaps another beer or two would help.
Donna sat down beside Jean, smiling and acting flirty.
"Cheer up, honey!" Donna said, leaning close. "I like your dress. I'm glad you wore one ... makes things easier!"
She opened a can of beer and smiled at Donna. The little meadow lay some distance from the forest road, and trees surrounded them on every side. The temperature was ideal; a soft breeze blew gently through the greenery.
"I didn't wear much underneath, either," Jean said, drawing one leg forward. The move hiked her skirt halfway to her hips.
Donna touched Jean's exposed thighs with a delicate caress. Exciting tingles sped along Jean's body. The newness of having another woman for a playmate, the novelty of being admired by a beautiful female even though it was anti-social, still gave Jean a thrill.
She wanted to drive her experience with Carl completely out of her system. There were no other men around Troy to relieve her tensions, give her satisfation-so why not enjoy Donna? When she returned to California she would try it with a few girls there. What did anything matter?
Donna's left arm went around Jean's waist, and her right continued its journey along Jean's thighs.
"Nice!" Donna whispered, reaching Jean's panties.
Jean opened her legs. Tremors of pleasure commenced, bringing urgent warmth.
"Did that Carl Zeller do you any good, honey?" Donna murmured.
"No!"
Donna giggled. "A girl understands what another girl really likes ... Your legs are so soft and warm! I really got my thrills yesterday ... It was about the best one I ever had!"
Jean finished her can of beer and tossed it aside.
"I had my fun, too," Jean said, dropping her hand on Donna's trimly-rounded thighs where her pants outlined the cute girl-mound. Donna squirmed, spreading her legs.
I wish I was slender and pretty, Jean thought wistfully.
Donna's fingers cupped Jean's femininity, and the desire spread through her loins. It wasn't hectic, yet-just a cozy warmth, building.
Jean's skirt was all the way to her hips, now. She watched the other's hand cavort along her opened thighs, and her breasts commenced to firm inside her bra. All during the lunch, Jean had watched Donna's figure, the allure of her fresh, young body, remembering the things they had done the day before....
Could she enjoy it today? The very fact that she was asking herself the question indicated a trace of doubt in her mind. She would try harder! Forget Carl. He's a dud.
"Let me undress you, honey?" Donna breathed, kissing Jean under the ear.
"Well, why not?" Jean pressed her hand on Donna's vee. Donna curled her lips upward suggestively.
"Oh, we'll make this wonderful today!" Donna murmured. Her mouth found Jean's. Jean softened, opening her lips and the dart of Donna's tongue awakened fizzy stings of joy.
Donna trembled, her right hand lifting to Jean's bodice. Donna's hand cupped and squeezed; Jean felt her nipples swell, and she wrestled her tongue around Donna's. Gently, Donna opened Jean's frock, exposing her breasts, cradled in the wispy pink bra.
Donna's tongue bladed sensuously in and out, in and out. Donna's hand grew more impulsive. She teased Jean's nipples making them tingle. Donna seemed in no hurry to remove the bra. Jean relaxed her mouth, her own tongue lax, as Donna's probe continued its thrilling explorations.
A vision of Carl invaded Jean's thoughts, and she fought to push it away. This wouldn't do, at all.
No emotional overtones; today was for sexy fun, nothing else. She would have to try with more vigor.
Finally, Donna opened Jean's bra. Her breasts surged forward, and she felt her nipples erect under Donna's knowing caresses. Donna trembled again, her tongue shooting very deep, vibrating inside Jean's mouth.
Jean curved her mounds forward, tell-tale darts of pleasure making them even more sensitive, responsive.
Donna's tongue withdrew, at last, and their mouths parted.
"Mmmmmm!" Donna breathed. "Your titties are just super, honey! So nice and big...."
"Play with them good," Jean said.
"Oh, I will!"
Why didn't Carl do this? Jean thought, savoring the touches on her nipples, feeling them expand and turn hot. Achy little waves of need made her shiver. Nothing deep or profound, just spicy tinglings....
Donna's lips wandered to Jean's throat, then coasted downward toward the jut of her breasts. Donna's hand went again to Jean's thighs, seeking the tender zones of delight, pressing in a way that reminded Jean of some of the more experienced studs she had hired.
I'm the femme and Donna's the dyke, drifted through her mind.
Jean sank backward on the blanket, and Donna uttered a gasp of satisfaction.
"I'll make your panties burn!" Donna whispered, sipping at the swollen tips of Jean's breasts, easing her fingers inside Jean's wispy briefs. "I'll make your little gun go bang, bang, bang!"
"Not too soon," Jean murmured. "No, honey-we'll have all kinds of fun, first!"
The spell was broken by the sound of an approaching car. Donna's head lifted, her hand quieting.
"Talk about luck! Maybe it will go on by...."
The quirts of pleasure in Jean's body diminished, she struggled into a sitting position. There was no hurry, really But the intrusion was annoying.
The car-sounds grew louder. Donna stood up, and Jean refastened her bra, closing her bodice. She pushed her skirt down. Stings of unrequited need caused an ache in her loins.
"We should have gotten further away from the road," Donna said, frowning. "Maybe we ought to drive back to your apartment."
Jean nodded. She didn't like the idea of being 'caught' on a picnic with another girl. But why should she care? This time, when she left, Troy, she would make a clean break, move out of the apartment for good. Let people say what they liked; they generally did, anyway.
Sam wouldn't cut off her money entirely. Perhaps she should find a job, anyway. She was experienced in office work. She would still have time to enjoy herself. Other girls did. She would have some pride....
What's happening to me? she thought. I'm beginning to have square ideas!.
The approaching auto went on by, and before the motor sound faded, it suddenly died. Someone had pulled in not far away, stopped.
Other picnickers?
"Damn it," Donna said, picking up the blanket.
A girlish laugh, followed by a masculine answer, drifted across the clearing.
Donna straightened, glancing at Jean. She winked. "Some couple out in the woods for a good time," she whispered. "Let's see if we can slip up on them. Might be fun...."
Jean hesitated. She had never watched another couple for pleasure. Donna seemed quite thrilled with the idea.
Donna came over to Jean and hugged her, giggling.
"Come on, honey. Maybe we'll get a little extra battery-charging!"
Jean smiled. Why not? She could delay her pleasure if Donna could. The whole afternoon stretched ahead of them. The apartment would be there, waiting for them.
Donna caught Jean's hand and they walked toward the line of trees that circled the meadow. Donna put her finger to her lips, smiling. They would have to be quiet.
Donna led the way along a dim trail that wound through the underbrush. The girlish laugh came again, louder this time. A breeze hushed through the tall pine and fir trees overhead. A chipmunk darted into the trail ahead of them.
A moment later Donna paused. She turned to Jean and pointed.
They had come to the rim of another clearing, and right below them, in a patch of shade, a man of about forty was spreading a blanket. A plump, young redhead watched him. Jean guessed her age at not over twenty. She was attractive, wearing colorful slacks and a halter that left her midriff bare. The man was reasonably handsome, with broad shoulders, narrow hips. She had never seen either of them.
The man drew the girl down on the blanket and they began kissing. They faced the spot where Jean and Donna stood, watching. The man's hand went to the girl's halter, buljry with promise.
She's almost as plump as I am, Jean thought.
Donna's arm circled Jean's waist, and her hand cupped Jean's breast. Spicy tingles awakened in Jean's nipples. It might be fun watching someone else at that. At least the man and the redhead were doing something normal-or, they were warming up for it, anyway.
Watching them neck made Jean realize a-gain that the thing with Donna was definitely unnatural, a twisted kind of enjoyment, at best.
Their mouths parted and the redheaded girl laughed, running her hands through his hair.
"You're different out here in the woods, honey!"
He said something Jean couldn't hear, and the girl wiggled her bottom. He reached around her and unfastened the halter. Her lush breasts came in sight, and she giggled. The movement of his hands on her rosy-tipped charms sent twinges of excitement along Jean's body. He played with her skillfully, finally tipping her backward on the blanket.
His mouth sought a saucy nipple, found it. The girl squealed with delight. She kicked her legs, squirming her bottom, obviously enjoying herself thoroughly.
His hand went to her vee, and she began to quiet down, her movements becoming more languid.
Donna was opening Jean's dress again, slipping her hand in on two achy mounds.
"Ever watched a couple doing it?" Donna murmured in Jean's ear.
"Nooo."
"He's taking her pants off," Donna whispered, squeezing Jean's breasts.
Jean nodded, her legs feeling watery. A moment later the man had the girl's thin panties removed, too. His trousers and shorts came down. He was well endowed, very rigid.
"Not bad," Donna breathed.
The girl opened her naked, white thighs, waiting for her lover. His hand cavorted over her tummy, then down to the triangle of her passion. She bucked her hips encouragingly.
Donna's breath sucked in as the man swung above the juicy redhead. She lifted her legs, curling her hips upward. Jean saw his rigidity begin to impale the girl's femininity, and a sharp wave of need swept her being.
"Ohhhhh-honey!" the girl cried.
The man sank his shaft in, deeply. I'll bet she isn't paying for it, Jean thought, dizzily. Why didn't Carl do that to me? I was ready, I was burning. He was too, but he was too damned backward to take me.
Now the man and the girl on the blanket were really swinging. She came up when he came down. The sensual vision, the pumping of his shaft into her depths, the pauses, while they savored their pleasure, the slow starting again, the clasp of her thighs about him, all made Jean vibrate with longing.
She had had that many times, but always with the onus of having to pay money for it. This was something entirely different-or anyway, she imagined it that way.
Her breasts seemed ready to burst her bra. Donna's breathing quickened. Suddenly Donna's hand was under Jean's skirt, cupping her flaming fount of yearning.
Jean curled her hips against the teasing caress. The darts of her need flared stronger. Donna slipped her hand inside Jean's panties and found the tender spot. A wave of delight gripped Jean.
Donna whispered in her ear. "Come on, honey, I think you need this-right now!"
Jean's legs seemed to be made of rubber. Still, she was intent on the goal, now. The redhead in the meadow commenced to whimper. The man lifted, and the girl's hips tossed and rotated. He was going to let her make the final thrusts.
Jean began to push Donna back along the trail. She was afraid that when she reached her peak she would fall down! They walked together, Donna keeping in step, Jean hardly able to curb her passion until they were out of sight....
Donna kept her hand in Jean's panties.
"Ohhh ... the joy was starting....
Jean staggered and the two girls fell in the soft grass. The jolt seemed to intensify Jean's gaspy need. She rolled over on her back.
Donna flipped Jean's skirt up, pulled her panties down, in a kind of frenzy. Donna's mouth went to Jean's loins. Jean spread, ignoring the fact that her panties were tearing. She didn't care. Ohhhhh-it was wild and exciting....
The heated sword of Donna's tongue entered the place of Jean's passion. A cluster of shivery spasms rocked her body. Delicious flutters turned into dramatic, honeyed palpitations.
Ohhhh-I'm going ... ohhhhh ... hurry, Donna! Ohhhhhh ... it was almost there Ohhh-NOW! NOW! NOW!
A rage of churnings tore at her pelvis. She heaved and moaned until the last hard pulsings sent her into a kind of trance. A faraway feminine cry of rapture from the meadow gave her another series of joyous tremors....
The redhead was having her climax, too.
Ohhhh-how she must be floating and sailing, with her lover's bigness in deep ... And here I am with a girl above me, her mouth on my place of want. How twisted can I become?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HER WHITE THIGHS ENTWINED HIS BACK....
Jean parked her car in front of her apartment. Donna started to climb out, and Jean touched her hand.
"Honey, I'm getting an awful headache, and maybe I wouldn't be very good for you...."
Donna frowned. Her dark eyes narrowed. "You're welching out, aren't you?"
They had said hardly a word after gathering up their things and leaving the wooded meadow. Jean's mind was in a turmoil. The burst of passion, there in the brush, had somehow drained her. She was ashamed of herself and couldn't help it.
"I'm just tired," Jean said, trying not to be angry.
"Don't you think I deserve some fun, too?" Donna asked, dryly. Something lay between them now, and Jean couldn't decide what it was. A barrier-put up by the picture of people having their pleasure the right way?
"Maybe tomorrow," Jean said vaguely.
"I need it now, honey!" Donna urged. "Come on ... it won't take me very long...."
Suddenly Jean knew she couldn't do it. The other's lilac perfume didn't tantalize her senses any more. Donna looked more like a boy, a pervert, at every passing moment.
"I can't!" Jean said.
Donna's lips curled. "You're a damned square, after all!" she flared. "I suppose you envied that redhead...."
"Yes, I did! Do you want me to drive you home?"
"Never mind!" Donna snapped, jumping out of the front seat. "I can call a cab." She leaned in the opened window. "Go on back to your filthy men and their hairy bodies! I'm fed up with you!"
She backed away to the sidewalk and strode angrily down the street. Jean sighed.
The sun was shining, the wooded slopes a-round the town looked green and inviting, as usual, but her day was shot. She felt a dullness in her loins. Not even the prospect of causing Colleen and Sam more trouble lifted her spirits.
She needed a shower, a rest. She wanted to wash away the lilac perfume, the evidence of her unnatural lovemaking.
Had her brief association with Carl changed her so much? Was she really 'square,' after all?
Well, she had chased Carl away, and mw Donna. The sooner she left Troy the better. Too many conflicts here. Maybe Colleen and Sam deserved each other. Her father was too obsessed with Colleen to ever drop her, barring some catastrophe.
Jean liked pranks, but not violence.
She left her car and walked drearily toward her apartment. The beer she had consumed was sour in her stomach.
I had my fun, but I'm sure if I hadn't watched the man and the redhead, I wouldn't have been nearly so thrilled. I hope I never see Donna again!
Carl Zeller paced the floor of his apartment. He had made arrangements with the new owner of the mill to haul logs; his equipment was all moving, and from a business standpoint he was doing very well.
Now that he was alone, he could think of nothing but Jean Sampson; in fact, he was surprised that he had been able to function so well at his work with the tantalizing image of Jean's face and figure in his mind.
The evening with her had been marvelous-until the end. At the drive-in movie he had been so excited he couldn't remember any of the damned show at all. Kissing her had made him want to take her to bed, instantly-but his idiotic shyness had spoiled things again.
Whenever he thought of the clingy hotness of her mouth he groaned to himself. Why hadn't he reached over and touched her alluring breasts? Why hadn't he slipped his hands down on her thighs, so attractively opened? Why in hell hadn't he accepted her invitation to go inside her apartment?
She was so softly rounded, sweetly feminine, that it made his loins burn to think of her.
He remembered the times when he had slipped into a whore house to rid himself of his lust, and he cursed to himself. He looked at the telephone again, wondering if he should call her, try to make it up to her with another date.
A long evening stretched ahead. Lately he had gotten into the habit of going down to the Troy Elks lodge and playing cards or pool. Weekends he usually went fishing; some fine mountain streams nearby.
But nothing he could think of interested him tonight.
Somehow, he had to get over the idea that nice girls didn't go for a little sex out of wedlock. It was old-fashioned!
He knew where the Troy whore house was; the foreman on his main logging crew had told him. A new young redhead and a classy blonde had just been brought in by the madam. Troy had had whores for over forty years.
He remembered the bitterness of his breakup with Edna, his former wife. He realized he had spoiled her, pampered her. He had idolized her, and she had told him, toward the end, that he made love like a school boy.
Thankfully, there had been no children.
He remembered the day he had come home early, to the big home he had built for her near Rendon, Washington. She had been completely naked in the living room, and a friend of his, also naked, had been on top of her-in the middle of the floor. She had never been nude for him, except in the bedroom, with the lights out.
He had watched them, hearing Edna's cries of excitement, watched her white thighs around her lover, and he had backed out of the house, shocked, almost horrified.
Forget the ugly past and think about the future!
Should he go down to the Rex Roons and take on a young girl and think about Jean while he poured his virility into a cold, paid bed partner?
No.
He went to the phone. He had already memorized her number, knew it by heart. It was high time he started acting like a man instead of a mouse. He recalled Jean's parting words, and he cringed. She was a woman, not a girl....
He dialed, his hand sweaty on the receiver. The faraway ringing sounded like thunder in his ears. For the hundredth time he thought of her softness, the ripe roundness of her hips, the sweet wiggle as she walked....
She's not too big for me. I like a girl with some size, even if a lot of men don't.
On the third ring she answered. Even her voice merely saying 'hello' jarred his senses. So feminine....
"This is Carl," he managed. "I want to apologize...."
"I'm sorry," she answered, coolly. "I'm not in the mood. Get one of these local gals and hold hands with her."
He felt a trace of anger. "Did you want me to treat you like a floozy-on our first date?"
"Well, you could have tried, at least!" she snapped.
He couldn't understand his sudden temper, but the words jumped out of his mouth.
"You must have had a lot of experience!"
She laughed. "I have-with red-blooded men. We're worlds apart, Carl. You need a nice little shy broad. I'm going back to California in a few days where a girl can let go."
He swallowed a curse. Why did she infuriate him so?
"Hell," he growled. "I can show you a few things! I was trying to be a gentleman...."
"Well, I'm afraid I'm not a lady, Carl. I suppose you want another date so you can show me how big and manly you are! I don't want any big, glorious entanglements. Besides, I'm kind of pooped out, tonight. I had a lot of fun out in the bushes this afternoon. Now, go away, and don't bother me...."
The whine of the dial tone rang in his ear.
He slammed the receiver down and swore. No girl had ever made him so wildly enraged. 'Out in the bushes.' I'll show her!
He walked back and forth, simmering. The idea came almost of its own volition. 'Get one of those local gals' Jean had suggested. Well, why the hell not?
His new office girl, Nita Brooks, had been giving him plenty of come-on. A blonde too. Nicely curved, about twenty-two or so. She even had the plump kind of curves he liked.
He had always made it a rule not to mix business and pleasure, but Nita was the only gal he could think of at the moment. She wasn't local; she had no family attachments in town-and she wasn't even a very good secretary. If business kept coming the way it had been lately, he would have to replace her, anyway. She wasn't really pretty enough to have the local boys panting-but she did have curves and enough sex appeal.
He had her phone number at the office.
"I'm so glad you called me!" Nita gushed, leaning across the small table for two in Troy's leading night spot, The Blue Note. She wore a skirt and blouse, and the sheen of her blonde hair reminded him somewhat of Jean's.
Get her out of your mind, he told himself.
He had taken a couple of drinks before picking her up, something he seldom did, alone, and he felt the liquor heating his body, his interest.
Nita's blouse was open at the throat, and he could see the seductive cleavage between her oversized breasts. Well, he preferred girls with good breasts, something a man could get his hands on. One of his favorite whores, near Ren-don, when he had lived there, had possessed tremendous breasts. Of course, her nipples had never awakened under his mouth. All pretense . .
Still, a man had to have his hands on woman-flesh once in a while.
I'll lick this damned shyness if it kills me, he thought.
He touched his knee against her leg, under the table, and she returned the pressure. They were talking about things at the office, happenings around town, but her eyes were giving him the go-ahead signs.
He suggested a dance, and she went along, willingly. The floor was crowded, dimly lit. He wished she wouldn't giggle so much, but at least she was pleasant. She fitted snugly in his arms.
"I wondered when you were going to ask me for a date," she said, responding to the tightening of his arm around her waist. Her jutty breasts billowed excitingly against his chest; he was getting hard already.
He decided to try some words he had never used with a date. Why the hell be backward? The liquor gave him courage.
"I like those short skirts you wear to work," he said.
She giggled. "I thought you noticed!" Nothing to it!
"Those low-cut blouses, too," he went on. Swell! I'm kind of plump-and large. You like that?"
"Hell, yes." He squeezed her, growing bolder. "I like a lot of cushioning."
She giggled. "You always act so reserved ... I'm surprised at you!"
"I've decided to change," he said.
"I'm glad! You could give the gals around this town quite a thrill if you wanted to. But I'm glad you called me."
It went along like that, and they had more drinks. He pushed his knee forward under the table, and she pressed her nyloned knees snugly to his. He looked at the promise of her fresh young mouth and he took the big step.
"Like to come up to my apartment?"
Her thighs tightened on his knee. Her hand squeezed his. She giggled again.
"I was afraid you weren't going to ask me, Carl!"
His chest swelled. Hell, he was almost there-like falling off the proverbial log!
CHAPTER TWELVE
I NEED IT-NOW
Jean sat in her father's living room, sipping a martini Colleen had mixed. It was nine-thirty. She had taken a shower and a nap and had gone out to eat. She felt much better. Sam appeared rather subdued.
Carl's call had upset her, but she was recovering from that, too. She had been surprised at his anger; maybe he had some fire, after all. Maybe he wasn't quite as meek as she had supposed.
The fact that he had stirred her own anger bothered her. Why get involved? She would soon be away from Troy and its small-town morality.
Carl was looking for a wife, obviously. Plenty of gals around who would fall all over him. He was big and brawny and successful. Some women didn't care too much about the sex bit, anyway. They wanted security. The less nooky they had to put out for it, the better.
He would probably spoil a wife to death-and then not give her the old shaft. Deep and hard and good....
I need that, she thought. And so far I've had to buy it.
Jean wasn't surprised to learn that Sam and Colleen were planning to leave the next day for Reno. They would be married there. The idea of having a big wedding at Troy had been dropped; Sam's business was all taken care of.
"I'll be taking off soon, too," Jean said, finishing the martini. "Santa Barbara for me."
Sam squirmed in his chair. The way he sat indicated her itching powder might have worked. She had already noted that the big sofa which had received the powder was no longer in the room.
"Sorry you can't be at the wedding, darling!" Colleen said in a tone of voice that indicated her pleasure.
Colleen appeared to have trouble adjusting her bottom to her chair. Jean smiled.
"You two act restless, on edge," she remarked.
Sam flushed. "I fired the housekeeper. She put some kind of devilish itching stuff on the big sofa I had here...." He cleared his throat. "But I'm closing the place up, anyway."
"Same here." Jean said.
"I was hoping you'd kind of settle down here," Sam remarked. "We'll be back in a month or so-and the family would all be together."
She remembered Carl, and she shook her head. "I've had it here, Dad."
She stood up and went over to him, kissing him lightly on the cheek. He smiled at her rather wistfully.
Earlier, he had promised her that her income would continue, as before. She still didn't trust Colleen; the brunette would get all she could, and she had the right weapons in her arsenal, a rounded behind, pointy breasts and a pretty face. Her cunning mind was even more dangerous.
"I'll probably see you two before you leave," Jean said. She could feel the gin warm her tummy.
Colleen followed Jean to the door. Jean was a little surprised when the slender woman stepped outside.
"This sweet daughter act doesn't fool me," Colleen said, tartly. "What're you up to now?"
"Nothing," Jean said, innocently.
"You put that itchy stuff on the sofa, didn't you?" Colleen demanded.
Jean laughed. "You could never prove it, darling."
"Well, I've got him!" Colleen snapped. "We'll be gone tomorrow. And I'm going to get even! All that meowing outside my bedroom window ... Nobody makes a fool out of me!"
"You know," Jean said, "I was almost ready to drop the whole thing and let you and Sam go through with this farce. He didn't even invite me to the wedding at Reno. That was all your big idea. Not that I would have gone, anyway ... But if you still want war, you'll have it, darling!"
Colleen snorted. "You're whipped and you know it. Sam's eating out of my hand."
Jean took a wild guess. "What if he finds out you go both ways darling?"
Colleen's sudden rigidity, the expression on her face, visible even in the shadows near the front door, told Jean she had hit home.
"You're crazy!" Colleen said, uncertainly, but trying to hide it.
"I've been watching you, darling," Jean said, with more confidence than she really had. But she pushed her momentary advantage. "I think you'd even go for me-if I'd let you!"
Colleen's hand flashed out, but Jean warded it off. She stepped away, laughing. "Don't tangle with me, darling. I'm big enough to knock you down and stomp on you."
"You slut!" Colleen cried. She was furious.
"You'll pay for that remark, too," Jean said. She laughed again, coldly. "I may be in Reno, too ... invited or not. Just watch your step. I've got an idea you're going to run into real trouble."
Colleen breathed a curse slammed the door, and hurried back inside.
Jean walked slowly to her car. The night air was cool, invigorating. The second martini was making her lightheaded. She slid into the front seat of the auto, her mind busy.
Nobody calls me a slut and gets away with it, she thought. I'll fix her wagon.
Colleen stood a moment inside the door, trying to let her temper cool. She realized she might have pulled a boner. Jean was really sore. Jean was clever....
Tonight was a big one for Sam. She was going to stay all night in his apartment. Previously his old-fashioned ideas about what was right and proper had prevented it. But since they were leaving for Reno in the morning, taking a plane from Missoula, he had decided, after a bit of encouraging, that no one would talk. They were engaged.
Colleen would enjoy something of a triumph, too. This was about as close to marriage as a woman could get. Considering Sam's outlook, of course. She would have given up her apartment much sooner if he had said the word.
She took a deep breath and walked back into the living room. The drinks were beginning to put color in his face. She had put on a little cocktail hour frock, slashed low at the bodice, and quite short. She wore her best nylons and undies. Sam was a pantie and bra faddist. And when those were off, he liked her in smoky nylons and high-heeled shoes.
In his day he had been quite a stud, but he hadn't learned any fancy variations. He was heavy, somewhat pot-bellied, and he invariably mashed her; he didn't know how to brace himself on hands and knees so the girl could swing her bottom around.
She was almost afraid to suggest top-riding. She hated being entered, anyway. Deep penetrations had never thrilled her. In fact, it was rather disgusting. Her zones of pleasure were on the surface-her nipples and her clitoris. She had never yet climaxed when Sam did, but she had learned years before how to squirm and pant and put on a show.
Men were so easily fooled!
They couldn't understand that a woman might enjoy the light touches of another girl's hands and lips. The act was an affront to their ego.
Colleen's first husband had really enjoyed eating her, saving her the animalistic gorings she detested. She had never yet found a man who had learned the art. A few had tried, but only another woman really understood....
Sally Bell would be very unpset about Colleen's sudden departure. But Sally was a weak person, not difficult to control, and she would find another knowing girl-friend.
I hate to leave her, Colleen thought, pasting a smile on her face as she wiggled over and sat down beside Sam, letting her skirt hike back. When she and Sam returned to Troy she could probably resume her sly affair with Sally. Once married, she would have more freedom. Hair-do appointments could be dragged out for a whole afternoon. Shopping trips into Missoula....
She remembered the first time she had made Sally. At a Missoula theater she had spotted the cute little blonde and had followed her into the balcony, taking a seat next to hers....
Colleen hadn't seen such a nice bit of fluff for months. Her mouth had a sexy pout, and the slight jiggle of her breasts indicated they were real. About nineteen, with smooth blonde hair falling to her shoulders, the freshness that only youth could offer.
She was a waitress. Getting acquainted was extremely simple. A stick of gum, honey? Then the welcome discovery that boys irritated her. She didn't draw away when Colleen pressed her nyloned knee against Sally's bare one.
Then the clever questions, the girlish conversation, the giggles and laughs. Colleen was almost certain she was a virgin. A new conquest was always tremendously thrilling. She was already getting wet between her legs just thinking about it!
Sally's extremely feminine mannerisms, her tiny hands, the sweet plumpness of her thighs, fired Colleen's desire.
It was Sally's day off. She lived at home yet, but her parents didn't keep close tabs on her. The idea of going to Colleen's apartment, after the show, obviously pleased the little blonde.
Colleen decided she could catch a few feels before they left the balcony, however. They were practically alone; it was a matinee feature.
"Ever let any of those boys get in your panties, honey?" Colleen whispered.
Sally giggled. "A few times...." She grew more confidential. "It's so dangerous."
In the velvety darkness Colleen let her hand drop on Sally's softly-rounded knees. "With a girl it isn't, honey," Colleen whispered.
Sally shivered. Colleen slipped her hand under Sally's skirt, along the silky warmth. The movie was entirely forgotten. A young couple left the balcony and now Colleen and Sally were all alone.
"Doesn't that feel good, honey?" Colleen murmured, caressing the other's youthful thighs, feeling them open.
"Y-yes!" Sally breathed. She was inclined to stutter a bit.
"I can give you some real thrills," Colleen murmured, sneaking her fingers further into the delectable girlish allure of Sally's loins.
Sally uttered a little gasp of pleasure, and suddenly she offered her pouty lips for Colleen's delectation. Colleen took it easy, worming her mouth gently against the young girl's lips, tasting her hunger, while her hand found the silky curve of Sally's femininity.
Colleen hadn't been so excited for months-even years. What a cute little bundle! She inserted her tongue between Sally's hot, clingy lips. Sally's whole body softened, and her thighs widened. Wonderful! The girl was hungry for it, burning up for it.
Colleen felt her nipples stiffen as she played with the blonde's legs and pushed her tongue into Sally's mouth. Sally shivered, her hips rising, her little hands gripping Colleen's shoulders.
I'll give her a quickie right here, Colleen thought, stroking her tongue sensuously in and out, nipping Sally's lips with her teeth, sneaking her hand inside Sally's panties. I'll save those juicy titties of hers till later.
She found Sally's tip of enjoyment, and the little blonde squirmed, shivering up a storm.
Their mouths parted. Sally gasped.
"Come on, honey!" Colleen whispered. "Come on, you snuggly darling! Let yourself go ... You need it! That's the way, spread out ... Ohh-not so fast. Easy. Now, isn't that wonderful? Just a tiny bit more ... All right! Come to Mama, come now!"
Sally's fit of trembling soared Colleen's desire, and suddenly she was having a twinge of pleasure, too.
"Ohhh-oh-my goodness!" Sally cried, softly.
Colleen shuddered. She was going off, too! blonde's whole body convulse. The moment of rapture arrived.
Colleeen shuddered. She was going off, too!
They held each other, panting, writhing. Sally's moan triggered Colleen's orgasm, and the sweet shiverings tore at her being, reaching to the depths of her womanly need.
This was really something. She knew she had to have Sally again and again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HE FELT HER SOFT SKIN ON HER THIGHS QUIVER UNDER HIS TOUCH....
Carl Zeller swung his apartment door closed and locked it. Nita looked around his quarters admiringly. He was glad he had had the cleaning woman in the day before; he had never been much of a housekeeper.
"This is swell," Nita said, wiggling toward his sofa. He was sure she had been around, that this wasn't her first trip to a man's apartment. So what? Perhaps her experience would help him lick his big problem. What followed next, or what he hoped would follow, had always presented him with his knottiest dilemma.
The final approach, the right words to use. A clever whore always took care of that, and Edna had been to a certain extent. When she wanted it she went after it.
He realized that he had always made too big a thing out of the difference between paid women and "nice" girls. His inclincation to idolize feminine beauty was natural, but in some cases it didn't work.
Jean was still mad because he had acted like a teenager.
It's high time I grew up, he decided.
Nita had been tossing it at him for weeks; she was here, sitting prettily on the sofa, her skirt above her knees, her smile inviting.
"Like another drink?" he asked, standing in front of her.
She lifted her arms above her head, the motion causing her blouse to bulge outward even further.
"I feel swell right now," she said, patting the sofa beside her. She hadn't made a move to turn up any more lights. The single lamp he had left on was the only illumination.
The allure of her mouth and breasts and amply-rounded thighs drew him down. Why the hell wait any longer? He slid his right arm a-round her waist and his left about her shoulders.
She half-turned, melting in his embrace, lifting her mouth. Not as sultry as Jean's but tempting enough. He sank his mouth into her waiting lips, and a hot jolt went through his loins. He hadn't done much kissing of recent years, until he had felt the cloying heat of Jean's mouth. One never bussed a whore ... for obvious reasons.
Nita's hands toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. She pressed her swollen breasts tightly to his chest. The heat of her mouth had a spine-tingling urgency.
When the tip of her tongue wiggled excitingly on his mouth, he remembered all the times in his office when he had glanced at her shortie skirts, at the smooth nyloned thighs recklessly exposed when no one else was present.
Something snapped in his brain. The wall of his reserve fell away. He didn't care now what had done it-Jean's words of scorn, the liquor or Nita's willingness. He trembled, feeling a surge of need almost as sharp as when he had kissed Jean.
He would probably never have another chance with her, so why the devil worry about it? Pluck the fruit when it was ripe. And now was the time. Now!
His hand shot down to the enticing spread of her thighs. He drove inward with his tongue. She quaked. The feel of her nyloned legs under his fingers was exciting him beyond stopping, even if he'd wanted to.
Damn, how I wanted to do that with Jean, he thought.
Nita's thighs were silky-smooth, hot to his touch. Go, man, go! He reached higher, to the alluring planes close to her panties. Her tongue darted; she squeezed her legs against his seeking hand.
Easy as eating pie. Only one hell of a lot better.
She rolled her lips under his, and when her hand stole down to his trousers he knew he was doing the right things. The tantalizing woman-fragrance from her hair, from her opened thighs, reminded him again of Jean.
"Ohhh ... mmmmm!'" she gasped, breaking the kiss.
He firmed his hand on her woman curve. The sensuous lift of her hips fanned his desire. Her fingers danced over the bulge of his trousers, then rose to her blouse. She opened the buttons, slowly.
"I'm glad you don't rush, honey," she whispered. "I've waited for this for a long time."
"So have I," he said, but the meaning wasn't the same. He had conquered the wall of shyness. Nita could be any girl, now. When he thought of all the stuff he had missed because of his reluctance it made him almost angry. How ridiculous could things be? Sure, there were risks-but he took them every day in his business.
He had been successful in every area but the most important-sexual relations. He was grateful to Nita. And the best way to show it would be to give her a good time.
Edna had taught him the main essentials of how to arouse a woman to fever pitch. Even the whores had added to "his sexual knowledge. He had certainly read enough about it.
He drew Nita's hand away from her blouse and replaced it with his own. He opened the garment all the way to the wide belt at her waist. Her bra was pink and lace-trimmed. He had already discovered that she wore no slip.
"I've wondered about these," he said, cupping a bulgy mound.
She giggled. Her hand returned to his trousers. "I've wondered about you, too, Carl. You're one hell of a man!"
He had never wondered about that, one way or another. Edna had had some difficulty in accommodating him, and a few whores had admired his penis. But prostitutes were supposed to be complimentary.
Made bolder still by her words and the booze, he unzipped his trousers. She giggled, helping him. She was going to see him sooner or later, so why not sooner?
"Ohhhh!" she cried, as his rigidity came in sight. "Oh, you big wonderful thing, you!"
Her hands caressed him gently. She trembled. He reached around her and unhooked her bra. Her big sloping breasts tumbled out of their lacy cups. Her nipples, encircled by lighter bands of pink flesh, were red and tumescent, quite large.
He fondled her charms, his lust mounting. Her nipples swelled even more. She sank back on the sofa, thighs wide open, her mounds jutting forward, a picture of sensual allure.
"Play with me till I'm crazy for it, honey!" she cried. "I want to swing!"
He lowered his head and kissed the ripe buds of her nipples. He caressed her thighs from knee to crotch. Her hips turned restless, and he felt the heat of her yearning as he teased her breast-tips with his lips and tongue.
"Ohhh-mmmmmmm!" she panted. "Let's get undressed, honey. I need this ... I haven't had any for months!"
Well, well!
He could understand it, partially. She wasn't slim or even pretty. Lots of men would pass her by as being too buxom. The long-stemmed girlies got most of the treats. Softly-rounded girls had always stirred him. Like Jean, Her wide hips had a special allure.
Hell, get her out of your mind.
He stood up and began taking off his clothes. She unfastened her belt, and in a trice her skirt was gone, on the back of the sofa. Her blouse came next. She lifted her generous hips and wiggled out of her panties. Her nylons, held up by a band of stretchy stuff at the tops, she didn't remove. Good. Made her look even sexier, like in the men's magazines.
He had undressed for whores plenty of times, but never for Edna, or any other woman. Nothing to that, either. Once he had made up his mind to go, once he had rid himself of his shyness, the rest was duck soup.
Nita's downy vee was a magnet, pulling him back to the sofa. He hardly knew where to start first!
She settled the issue by squirming up into his lap, sitting with her lush thighs pointing directly at right angles to his body. She knew he was no lefty.
"Secretary on the Boss's lap," she giggled, spreading her legs. His rigidity rose up between them.
The feel of her soft bottom on his loins made him quake with desire-but he knew he had to move carefully. She was playful; she wanted to get as much out of it that she could.
He fondled her breasts, bringing her nipples out sharply.
"Ohhhhh-that's good, honey!"
Then she pulled his hand down to her femininity. He cuddled her, feeling her quivers of response. She turned so that her big breasts were right in his face. He licked her nipples while her fingers caressed his manhood, while he toyed with her crevice, finding the little tip of her need.
"Uhhhh-mmmmmm!" she cried softly. "Should I take a letter?"
"Yes," he said, catching the mood of her game. "Dear Sir."
"Make it dear Madame," she laughed.
"All right! 'Dear Madam. I have a wonderful, understanding girl in my lap. What is the best position for fun?'"
She giggled. "Continue!"
"Hell I can't wait four or five days for an answer...."
"I'll be the dear Madam," Nita said. " 'Dear Sir, I recommend that you swing this girl around in your lap and let her do the rest!'"
Carl had to laugh. "Damned if that wasn't a quick reply."
Nita raised up, bringing her bottom directly above his manhood, opening her thighs, placing one on each side of him. She scooted nearer, knees in the sofa. Her breathing quickened. Her breasts seemed to push out even further.
Her right hand came down to hold him, guide him....
"Ohhhh...." she gasped. "Ohhh, honey-it's so big ... ohhhhhhh ... now it's going ... Oh! OHHHH-hon-ey!"
The sweet, hot joining made him burn all over. She was gratifyingly snug. She wiggled until he was deep inside, feeling the shivers of her breasts against his lips, the eager claspings of her vagina around his manhood.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders and lifted, her breathing jerky. Up, down, up, down, slowly....
He sucked a nipple far into his mouth. "Ohhhh!" she cried. "Ohhhhh-that's ... good!"
He had never been very good at dictation; he was basically an outdoor man, but now he commenced to finish the letter in his mind. It helped him maintain a detatchment he knew was necessary so he wouldn't waste his energies and deny Nita her full pleasure.
"The girl is swinging her bottom like an expert. She's dragging it out, pausing now and then. She has a fine sense of rhythm. Her nipples are stiff; they throb in my mouth. Her flesh is velvety and seems to burn. She's panting and squirming, working up a big head of steam...."
It was crazy. This wasn't the way to enjoy a lively girl!
He placed his hands on her rump, held her, and began his own series of thrusting. He used the sofa springs to give him the right balance and buoyancy.
"Mmmm-ohhhhh ... mmmm!" she cried.
Deeper, now-then out-deeper, still ... right into the core of her need.
He felt the tension of her excitement. Her thighs pressed, her fingers raked his shoulders. She was ready.
He dropped his hands. She moaned.
Suddenly the flutterings in her pelvis quickened, and her hips flew. The sofa creaked out its song of twangy vibrations. The delectable tight-enings of her membranes on his manhood temped him, but he stayed aloof, finding his enjoyment in the tempest of her spasms, her gaspy rise to completion.
"Ohhh ... I'm coming!" she shouted. "Ohhh-oh-oh-Right now!"
The flood of her exploding passion gave him a sensation of exquisite triumph. To succeed as a lover, as a male, was the ultimate victory.
She gripped him and bounced out the rest of her joy, shivering, groaning, mashing her breasts tightly to his chest, lost in her rapture.
Damn, damn, he thought. If this was only Jean. Why didn't I take her?
"Ohhhhh, that was good!" Nita whispered, nipping his shoulder with her teeth. She squirmed playfully, still surrounding him, keeping her hips tightly to him. The shiverings of her body continued as she softened, as tiny tremors far inside attested to her continuing enjoyment.
A vision of Jean sprang before his eyes, and his tensing made Nita giggle.
"You're still big and hard, honey! Ohhhh-now I can do it again!" Her voice grew more intimate. "Are you going with me the next time?"
"The time after that," he said, teasingly.
"Ohhhh-you wonderful big thing, you! I really went wild. Should we try another position?"
He smiled to himself. "Whatever you like, blondie."
She sighed, nudging herself closer. "Why did you wait so long for this, Carl? Think of all the fun we missed!"
"We'll do some catching up," he murmured, cuddling her soft bottom.
I owe her a lot, he thought. She brought me out of my shell.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DON'T THINK LIKE A SQUARE....
Jean drove around town a while, nursing her hatred of Colleen. Same old joints along Main street, same old buildings. The air was fresh and cool, though. Even in town a hint of the pine tree odor lingered. Not a bad place to 'settle down,' really, if a girl could find the right man....
Missoula wasn't far away. Nice shops there, a college, good entertainment. California had so much smog....
I'm starting to think like a square again!
Her loneliness seemed to rush in on her, and she fought tears that sprang into her eyes.
Why couldn't I have married, like other girls, and had a few kids by now?
She swore to herself and tried to wash away the image of Carl Zeller. Oh, damn-I think I love him!
She beat her hands on the steering wheel. Hips Sampson falling for a guy! How corny and ridiculous! She had chosen her way of life ... Hired studs, self-pleasure and even a venture into lesbianism.
Why didn't he run his hand under my skirt and play with my panties? I know he was a-roused. He must have a secret love someplace.
She knew where he lived. Why not drive by and see if he was home?
She turned at the next corner and headed her car along a residential street. As she approached the apartment building she noticed his car just pulling up in front. He alighted, and so did a girl! Even the dim lighting along the street told her that Carl's date was blonde and plump.
Walking close together, they left the car and strolled toward the apartment.
She experienced a surge of jelaousy so keen she nearly lost control of the car. She drove on by, her body tense, her hands moist on the steering wheel.
Oh, damn him! I turned him down and he picked up another blonde.
Well, he was big and handsome and virile. New in town. Eligible. The local women would be falling all over him.
Jean hadn't been able to get a good look at Carl's date, but she had appeared reasonably attractive. And quite youngand buxom. Apparently he liked plenty of curves.
The thought of him putting his hands on the blonde's body tore a sob from her throat. She felt a throb of unrequited need in her loins. Her breasts itched.
How can I hate him and want him at the same time? Oh, I don't hate him. I'm nuts a-bout him! And I told him to leave me alone....
She knew she had to do something to take her mind away from what was probably happening in Carl's apartment. There was Colleen. The bitch!
She drove toward the mill and her father's apartment. Colleen had to be taught a good lesson. Jean's mind began to click. A smile touched her lips....
I'll pull a good one on that she-devil and then tomorrow I'll take a plane out of here.
She would go back to Santa Barbara and try to forget Carl ever existed. She would hire another stud. What was love, anyway? Sex was what she had been used to, just plain old sex. It satisfied the nerves, the yearnings.
Sam wouldn't care, really, if she didn't go to the wedding. They were running away to Reno. Colleen would be relieved.
Colleen lifted her frock over her head and gritted her teeth. Thinking about Sally, just before she had to give Sam his treatment, was like driving a spike in her belly. Or an icicle. She hadn't had a good satisfying orgasm for over a week, the last time she had been with Sally. Playing with herself after Sam's gruntings and heavings was growing tiresome.
She pretended to climax when he did. He would think her completely satisfied.
Tonight she would have to put on quite a performance. The evening before their wedding! Already he had promised her s mink coat. That would take away some of the sting of having to work him up. A life of ease, driving a new car, buying expensive clothes....
If Sam wasn't so old-fashioned she could probably talk him into a threesome with Sally.
But she would probably give herself away, and that wouldn't do, at all! He might even prefer the cute, cuddly blonde....
No, she had to do this all by herself.
She tossed the frock over the back of a chair and smiled at Sam. She arched her breasts forward.
"Honey, why don't you get into your pajamas and robe?
"You said it!" he answered, staring hungrily at her black, lacy panties. She had left her half-slip off, on purpose. Her nylons were black and webbed, held up by elastic at the tops.
He stood up and she ran forward, hugging him. His mouth settled on hers, and she gave a good imitation of being hot. She moved her lips and wiggled her slim bottom, patting him on the seat. How withered! His belly seemed even more prominent than usual. He wasn't in bad shape for a man his age, but who wanted one?
Men were disgusting, anyway. Even the younger studs. Like dogs in heat. Girls were so soft and tender and appealing....
Sam finally let her go and walked toward the master bedroom. She sat on the sofa and had a cigarette. She could hear him puttering around, getting ready for his big night. She would have to sleep with him. She hoped he wouldn't take his false teeth out. How romantic they were!
He came out of the bedroom, and she noticed he had left a light on. Before long she would be in there, doing her best!
She smiled, hoping it looked genuine, and held her arms out. She opened her slender thighs, curling her bottom upward.
His eyes seemed to burn with desire. His robe was sticking out in front, already. Amazing! Maybe she would get him off without having to go through too many contortions. Still, he would want to drag it out, because once was his limit. Perhaps in the morning he would try again-horrid thought!
"I'm just burning, honey!" she lied, as he sank down beside her. His hand went to her nude thighs. She could hardly keep from cringing. It was impossible to imagine that Sally was here, instead of Sam.
She kicked her legs and ran her hands a-cross his sunken chest. She opened his robe. His flesh felt cold, doughy. His cologne was much too strong.
"Make me real hot, honey!" she cried.
Just keep thinking about those millions he has, she told herself.
His hand pressed her vee, and he trembled. "Damn, you're so beautiful, darling!" he muttered, thickly.
She firmed her femininity against his hand. She made cooing sounds. She opened his robe and slipped her hands down to his loins. He was getting into good shape.
"Ohhh-you're going to hurt me with that, honey!" she whispered.
He moved his cold fingers to the pout of her lace-covered breasts. He fondled them clumsily, as usual. She cozied his manhood, murmured silly endearments.
He'll pay for this, she thought, weaving her hips, simulating her passion.
"Want to go in on the bed, honey?" she murmured, invitingly.
"Uhhhh-yes!" he exclaimed.
"I'll give you a real good time, tonight!" she breathed, squeezing his manhood. "The best you ever had!"
"I didn't ever think I'd find such a wonderful girl!" he panted.
How idiotically corny!
"Don't rush me, though honey," she whispered. "We want to make it last and last...." Like hell, she thought. "Yes!" he blurted.
His hand shook as it went inside her panties. She rolled her bottom around, making little copulatory lifts.
"I think I'm going to have the best time of my life," she breathed. "I love that!"
"You're so ... sexy tonight!" he exclaimed. She had never been quite so outspoken, with Sam. He was like a little boy with a new cap pistol, second childhood.
He didn't even know how to tickle a girl's clitoris! She was glad, really. She would save that till later, when he was snoring, exhausted. Or, if she was lucky, she wouldn't become excited enough to need her nerves relieved of their tensions. If she had to do it she would dream of Sally....
Jean slipped quietly up to the door of her father's apartment. She had sneaked a key from Sam's ring; he was so involved with Colleen he hadn't noticed.
She listened carefully. The living room drapes were drawn, so she couldn't peer inside.
Seemed very quiet. Had they gone into the bedroom already? She stood there a moment in the cool darkness, her hatred for Colleen mounting. Hearing no voices, she inserted the key in the lock and turned the door knob. No one protested.
She peeked into the apartment. Then she heard their voices, seeming rather muffled and faraway. They had retired. Good.
Tiptoeing inside, she left the door ajar. She spotted the metal waste paper basket near a desk, and she glided over to it. She found it contained an ample supply of refuse. She moved the basket to the middle of the room and cocked an ear.
Why not take a look at them? The bedroom door wasn't closed. She could see a light coming from that direction.
She walked softly up to the bedroom entrance. One glance told her all she wanted to know.
Sam was naked, and Colleen was just removing her panties. Her breasts already were bare. She cuddled up to Sam, her hand on his manhood.
He was fully aroused. Colleen opened her thighs so he could play around with her. He did, but obviously he was preparing to mount; he moved above her. Colleen's actions were so patently all pretense, Jean wondered why Sam couldn't see through her.
No fool like an old fool.
Colleen wrapped her slender legs about him, her hand down there on him, aiming his penis at the mark. Sam's breathing was labored. His hips lowered. He trembled visibly.
"Ohhhhh!" Colleen cried, and the phoniness of it made Jean smile. "Ohhh-that's ... wonderful, honey!"
"Damn!" Sam exclaimed. Then he moaned as the joining commenced.
Jean turned, not caring to see any more. She moved to the waste-basket and struck a match. She dropped it in on the paper, watched the flames rise, and swiftly departed.
Outside, she slid into her car and started the motor. She could see a flickering yellow light against the living room drapes. She steered her car out into the street, a mean smile curving her lips.
The neighborhood was very quiet. She was sure no one had seen her. She drove down into town, parking innocently in front of a drug store and awaited developments.
Her father would have everything of his own insured, of course. A little smoke would spoil things....
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHE HAD GOTTEN HER FILL OF SEX....
Carl lay on his apartment bed and watched Nita bounce and swing her bottom around on his manhood.
The booze he had taken earlier was helping him control himself. He still felt grateful to Nita. He was determined to hold off his climax until she had got her fill of thrills.
Of course, he could top her more than one time. And he probably would-later. But he needed practice in the art of keeping rigid and interested. There was always a deep lull in a man's lust after the first blast of passion. He would see how long he could hold. And if he ever got his hands on Jean again he would show her what he could do!
If he was any judge, from his limited experience, Nita was far better than average.
He held her breasts in his hands, watching the expression on her face as she bobbed up and down. Even with Edna he had never been very clinical about sex; he was enjoying a relatively new experience.
"This is going to be better yet, honey!" she panted, pausing on an up-stroke.
He teased her swollen nipples, and faint tremors in her pelvis rewarded his efforts. Her mounds were firmed with her desire, luscious handfulls.
Far away he heard the moan of a siren. Somebody being picked up for speeding, no doubt. Another distant howl indicated something more serious. Several cars sped by his apartment. A fire?
Nita was paying no attention. She dangled there above him, tightening herself around him, her breathing jerky. She arched her hips and commenced a slow rotary motion, keeping his manhood right at the door of her moist, heated cove. He looked down there, the vision filling a vaccum in his emotional makeup.
Nothing shy about this girl.
Gradually, she deepen the tantalizing strokes. He felt the tensing of her body, and another wave of delectable claspings made her moan.
"Ohhhh-I almost went, that time!" she cried softly.
"Have all the fun you can, blondie," he murmured.
She held, with his piston embedded to the hilt. She gasped and wiggled. The bed creaked. Her nipples in his palms turned to spikes.
"I'm going to try to-not move any more-and just let it come...." she gasped.
"Any way you like it," he said. Might be an interesting variation. He had read something a-bout such a method employed by natives in the South Seas, but he couldn't recall the name of the island where it was practiced.
The girl and the man joined and then neither was supposed to move. Friends of the couple helped with words and caresses. This made the pleasure come very slowly and excruciatingly.
Nita had already brought herself close to the brink with her squirmings and liftings, so there should be no real problem....
"Ohhhh-oh!" she breathed, as tiny shivers raced along her body. He felt the tightenings of her membranes, and her soft thighs gripped him.
"Ohhh-honey ... it's starting!" she panted.
Her mouth twisted as if she were in pain, and the little coilings within came more swiftly. A shudder passed through her loins. Each pound of her heart brought a dramatic heightening of her tension.
Her breasts throbbed, her whole body quaked. Suddenly the purposeful squeezings of her vagina turned into a kind of involuntary storm of convulsive spasms.
"Ohhhhh-I'm going off!" she shouted.
Hard waves of tremors seized her, and then she could hold still no longer. She bucked and lunged and turned frantic. The bed shook. Her body stiffened, and she bounced out her climax. .
The sweet churning of her rapturous depths nearly drew him along, but he knew he had been helped by the distraction of the sirens and his wish to please her for what she had accomplished, for snapping him out of a stupid, immature state of mind.
She softened and fell down on him, still shuddering, moaning, as the shivers of her joy continued, slowing, fading....
He squeezed her bottom and helped her all he could. Her murmurs of appreciation were like jewels in his ears.
"Ohhhh, honey-if it gets any better I'll faint! You're so good to me...."
More sirens. He stirred.
"What's the matter honey?" she whispered, giving a few last wiggles.
"Sounds like a big fire is happening," he said.
"Ohhh-don't move. Next time I want you to go!"
"I will sugar. I will...."
Colleen, receiving Sam's eager painful thrusts, sniffed smoked. Odd. Had she left a cigarette burning?
Well, she had to let Sam have his pleasure. He had been denied too many times lately. He was panting and straining, his breath hot on her throat. She felt sweaty and mashed already. He didn't know how to brace himself so a girl could respond fully-even if she wanted to.
His crude pumpings came more rapidly. The old goat was going to make it a little sooner than usual....
She patted his rump and made her sounds of sexy joy. Delaying his lust would be too risky, which was just as well. He might go limp ... Sometimes it was touch and go, anyway. Oh, how she hated this animal-like contact!
She wormed her hips and arched her breasts against his doughy chest. The pain of his pokings wasn't quite so sharp, now.
"Come on, honey," she whispered. "Give me my big thrill!"
He grunted and pumped a little faster. The smoke odor was more pronounced. She heard a crackling sound, now. Her sudden fright caused her to flinch, and Sam muttered, sweat coming out on his body as he heaved and pushed....
His pantings came more swiftly. She felt the tell-tale swelling of his manhood, and she knew the critical point had been reached. This was what he was marrying her for a man of his age would still feel like a man if he could top a young woman.
She bucked her hips as best she could in her mashed-down position.
"Ohhhhhh!" she moaned in simulated ecstasy. "Ohhh-do it to me, honey!
The smoke was billowing into the bedroom. Damn. She had to get him off! It was very important!
Now he was losing himself in his rutty rush to completion. She hugged him with her thighs and made the sensuous coital lifts, desperately hoping he wouldn't be distracted by the smoke. She could see flames in the living room.
"Uhhhhhh!" he groaned.
"Come on, honey-do it-now!" she panted.
He strained and strained. He was wet with sweat. He was trying, trying-dirving a little deeper....
Suddenly he coughed. A startled exclamation came from his lips. He bucked a few more times, but already she felt the lessening of his vigor. He was turning soft....
Any other time he would have made it. But he was failing. He cursed and rolled away from her. He coughed again, scrambling off the bed.
Quickly she left the bed, too, and raced past him, into the living room. A high blaze roared; the whole room was aflame! She backed away, and ran to a window. She opened it. Sam was cursing and bellowing. She caught his hand and led him to the window. The damned screen was still there. She lifted her leg and kicked it loose. She scrambled through the opening, her bottom scraping on a sharp protuberance of the window sill. She yelled.
"Come on, Sam!"
He staggered to the window, started wiggling through it. She was glad he had taken a ground floor unit. Her feet hit into a flower bed, and she fell backward. She jumped upright and helped Sam out of the window. A moment later they tumbled through, onto the ground. Sam hit with a thud.
Sam uttered a harsh moan. He lay quite still. She tugged at his arm, and then suddenly she saw someone running forward to help her.
"He's hurt!" she screamed, pointing at Sam.
Smoke and flame spurted out of the window of the room they had just left. She looked down at her naked body and a stream of profanity broke from her throat.
Sirens moaned, car motors roared. She had never been so humiliated and embarrassed in her life.
Jean squirmed restlessly in the chair that faced the sofa where her father sat, experiencing a deep remorse at what she had done. They were in a motel she had found for Sam after the big apartment blaze. Oddly, he didn't seem pale or distraught. He surprised her by saying he had even slept well.
Some fourteen hours had passed since the fire. The sun was shining outside.
"What did the doctor say, Dad?"
"I'm a mite upset, but he gave me a clean bill of health. Colleen, bless her heart, thought I'd had a stroke or something." He chuckled. "Kind of bad being out there naked, but somebody gave us some blankets...."
Jean had arrived at the scene of the confusion shortly after the local firemen had the blaze under cotnrol.
She was still shaky inside, thinking about what could have happened. She had let her anger at Colleen sway her judgement.
"Are you two going to Reno?" Jean asked.
Sam smiled. "It's up to Colleen. You know, the doc said something else. I've had a kind of circulatory trouble for quite a while. The excitement of the fire and getting out of the window loosened something around my heart-I don't know the medical terms. I feel like I was ten years younger!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Jean said, truthfully.
He winked. "I was excited about something else, too."
She laughed, greatly relieved. "I think I know what you mean."
I think I can make Colleen very happy," he said, confidently. He had more color in his cheeks, a sparkle in his eyes.
"Why don't you two get married here in Troy?" Jean said.
II he's that much better Colleen will really have her hands fulll Jean thought, delighted. I'd like to be around and watch the show from the sidelines.
"I believe we will, at that," Sam replied. Jean stood up, went over to him and kissed him.
As she drove to her apartment, feeling much better about things, her thoughts returned to Carl Zeller.
She knew she had to try to see him again. She had treated him very badly. The fact that he had taken another girl to his apartment still hurt, but it also indicated he might be waking up to a few facts of life.
With a bit of hope in her mind, her mood brightened. How could she arrange a meeting with Carl? She shivered just thinking about him. He had turned a lot of her values around, made her realize that there was such a thing as really falling for a guy, such a thing as dreaming a-gain about 'settling down,' no matter how corny it had seemed when she was in Caliofrnia....
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHE HATED MEN ... ALL MEN....
When Colleen breezed into Sam's motel suite she sensed an immediate change in him. Instead of being rather pale and shaken, he actually looked stronger and more robust! His color was improved, and the gleam in his eyes said she was in for trouble.
She had spent a restless night in her apartment. The scare of the fire and getting out of the window seemed difficult to shake off.
She was disappointed about the disruption of their plans. She had looked forward to Reno, the night clubs, the extravagant shows, the fine food ... and new clothes. Oodles of those.
As he explained his improvement, as he repeated what he had said to Jean, she felt a sinking sensation in her middle. He would probably live for years!
He was going to start playing golf again.
There was also in his manner a new firmness. He wasn't as meek. And she had thought he had had a light stroke! It had turned into a stroke of misfortune for her. He would be more virile, more demanding.
She had to play her game out-or lose it.
"Why Sam, honey-I'm dilirious!" she gushed, tripping up to him and hugging him. His hand went instantly to her blouse. He cupped her breasts with avid interest.
"I think we'll get married here in town," he said, unbuttoning her garment. "Then Jean can come to the wedding."
She's really gotten to him, Colleen thought. She realized she shouldn't argue with him. Maybe when he became sexually excited she could change his mind.
His hand inside her blouse roamed wtih more purpose. She had dressed very carefully for him, as became a woman about to get married. Her bra was so thin her nipples seemed to be right against his fingers.
They were actually starting to turn pointy.
She had been so upset about the fire and the excape that she hadn't relieved herself the night before. She had called Sally's number and no one had answered.
Did Sally have a new girl friend already?
"Oh, Sam, you're so impulsive!" Colleen cooed, patting his rump. He wore a loud sporty outfit, bright shirt and the latest in slacks. "We can always go to Reno after the wedding."
"It'll be hot there this time of year," Sam replied, kissing her on the neck. His fingers located the fastener on her bra, and he unhooked it. Her bare mounds seemed oversensitive today. Had the excitement of the fire done something to her, too?
She reminded herself that she hated men-
! all men.
If Sally's giving it to some other girl I'll fix her, Colleen thought darkly.
"Was the apartment badly damaged?" Colleen asked, trying to steer him away from sex.
"All insured. Let's don't talk about that ... I was disappointed last night." Then he added some words that surprised her. "I'd like to finish what I didn't do."
She had just showered and fixed her hair, and she didn't want to get all messed up so early in the day-but somehow the initiative had slipped out of her hands. He was the Boss. It shook her. No man had ever dominated her.
Well, she had plenty of ammunition in her arsenal. Let him think he was the big man; he would be putty in her hands again when he was fully satisfied....
And after the marriage she would pop the whip good.
"I'm so sorry you didn't-finish, last night, honey," she whispered.
His hand tightened on her breast. He laughed. "Why don't you give me a little strip show, darling?"
She trembled. "Don't you want to wait till tonight, honey?"
He pulled the blouse loose from her skirt. "We'll take care of tonight when it comes! I feel great! I had steak and eggs for breakfast. I'm raring to go!"
"Whatever you say, you big strong man, you," she answered, making a face he couldn't see. When he got through pumping around she knew she would have to set her nerves at ease.
She would dream about Sally, and have a really good, satisfying climax....
Donna Anderson watched the young blonde waitress and squirmed on the chair bottom. The day before she had walked by the Look-Inn cafe and noticed the cute addition to the place. She had asked a few questions around town, since she was well acquainted in Missoula, and had learned that Sally Bell was a kind of loner; she didn't have many dates in spite of her fresh beauty.
One beauty operator had hinted that Sally was 'queer.' That had been enough to whet Donna's appetite.
She sipped her coke and noted that Sally was becoming aware of her presence. The dinner rush was over. Sally apparently had the afternoon shift all by herself. The cafe wasn't large.
Donna was still angry with Jean. She was quite sure the big blonde wouldn't go for any more playing around, so Donna had gone to Missoula to look around. She believed she had struck pay dirt.
Sally's feminine, girlish gestures, her sweet, pouty mouth, the velvety look of her complexion, and her shy manner, all fired Donna's passion.
Sally paused in front of Donna, smiling. "Like another coke?"
Donna was the only person at the counter. The cook appeared to be occupied. She leaned forward, smiling back. She felt her nipples swell inside her bra. Sally's blue, shy eyes held a mute invitation....
"I'm Donna Anderson. Just came into town
... I live in Troy. What does a girl do around this place for excitement?" She gave Sally a provocative look and let her eyes wander down to the sweet bulges of Sally's breasts, cleverly shaped by her uniform.
A faint, unmistakable flush colored Sally's throat. She giggled. Her eyes returned the caress, and Donna felt a surge of elation.
"Some swell night clubs around Missoula," Sally murmured, dimpling. Donna wore a snug jersey and stretch pants, as she generally did. She saw the blonde's eyes linger on the jersey, where Donna's firmly-shaped breasts pouted.
"Let's go out tonight and have a few drinks," Donna suggested.
"I'd l-like that," Sally replied. Even her slight stutter was appealing. "I get off at five."
It took only a few moments to arrange the date. Donna jotted down Sally's address. Two customers came in, breaking up their conversation, and Donna left the cafe, strolling out to her car. Her heart thudded.
Cuter than cute, Donna thought. Such a nice, sexy wiggle. She knows what I want ... To hell with Jean.
Ever since they had parted at the cafe Donna had been hoping for this, dreaming of it. She had gone to a service station rest room and had freshened her makeup, dabbed on more lilac perfume.
Now it was happening.
Sally's lips softened voluptuously, opening wider. Donna wiggled her tongue into Sally's mouth, furiously excited. The little blonde snuggled closer, shivering.
She needs it, Donna thought, victoriously. What was more thrilling than a new conquest?
Donna tightened her circling arm, amazed at Sallly's trembly responses. Donna ran her tongue slowly back and forth, all along the pout of Sally's heated lips, tasting her desire, sampling the fresh appeal that had stimulated her interest. Her hand wandered down to the cute curve of Sally's bottom.
Sparks seemed to fly from her fingers to the velvety planes of Sally's body. She drove her tongue deeply, her ardor mounting. Sally yielded in a tantalizing display of female yearning. She shivered all over.
Jean was good, but this little thing is better! Donna thought.
Donna opened the filmy nylon wrapper, stroking her tongue in and out, in and out. until Sally quaked. Donna played her fingers lightly across Sally's tummy, then upward to the ripe jut of twin delights.
Their mouths came apart, at last.
"You sweet thing, you!" Donna breathed, her hand covering the lacy-bordered bulge of Sally's breast.
"I ... I wanted you to do this," Sally whispered.
"I had to get my hands on you," Donna said, squeezing Sally's breasts, gently.
"Ohhh-I know!" Sally gasped. "I knew you understood."
Well, she was no virgin, and that would make things better, actually. No need for a lot of persuasive remarks, breaking down barriers.
Sally might like the boys, too, but she had all the earmarks of a femme, and Donna found herself wondering how many girls had preceded her.
What did it matter?
She steered Sally to the sofa, and they sank down together. Her hand went between Sally's thighs, lightly caressing.
"Nice," Donna said, kissing Sally's shoulder, breathing in her fragrance. "Somebody been neglecting you, honey?"
"Y-yes...."
"Let's make this real fun!" Her hand reached Sally's panties.
"Are we g-going out?" Sally asked, widening the spread of her thighs.
"Why?"
Sally giggled. "Sometimes I like to dance with guys and let them work me up."
"Honey, I can do that!" Donna said, her fingers shaping the blonde's girl-mound.
"Ohhh ... y-yes!"
"Have you ever let a man take you, sweet?"
"Once...." Sally murmured. "I didn't like it."
"They're so crude," Donna said, watching Sally's breasts straining at the cups of her bra. "I've got something in my purse you'll love."
"Ohh ... what is it?"
"I'll show you after a while, honey." Her hand stole inside Sally's panties. The blonde shivered. The soft, velvety zones of her vee made Donna's nipples turn hard in her bra.
Sally was moist and ready. Donna teased the tiny point of pleasure and Sally's hips curled upward. Her breath caught.
"Ohhh ... I'm getting so hot!" Sally gasped.
"Just wait till I get undressed, honey," Donna whispered. She withdrew her hand and lifted it to the alluring pair of beauties cradled in smoky cups. She nibbled the lobe of Sally's ear, playing her fingers across Sally's erect breasts. She whispered again.
"I'll make you forget you ever saw a guy. I'm hungry, too. I'll tease you and tease you an then I'll make your little gun go bang, bang, bang!"
"Ohhhhh!" Sally gasped. "The way you talk!"
Donna giggled. "What's more fun?"
"N-nothing I know of...."
Donna opened Sally's bra, her fingers shaky. What a pair of charmers! They seemed to leap out of confinement.
Luscious white globes, cherry-tipped, silky smooth ... firming under her gentle touches....
"You've really got 'em honey!" Donna murmured, feeling a wave of quickening need. Her fingertips danced over the blonde's alluring curves. The little red nipples stiffened, and Sally squirmed. She panted.
"If you don't ... stop that I'm ... going to...."
"What?" Donna teased.
"Go ... off!" Sally cried, her hips lifting again.
Donna smiled to herself. I don't need that Jean Sampson, now. She giggled and left the sofa. Standing in front of Sally, she began to undress.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
COME TO MAMA, BABY....
Colleen stretched out on the motel bed and watched Sam undress. As usual, she still wore her nylons and nothing else. Sam had already got his fill of seeing her in panties and bra. He was down to his shorts, moving with purpose.
His manhood came in sight, and its bigness made her cringe inside. Hard already! Steak and eggs. How ridiculous! Next thing he would be eating oysters.
She had to make it good for him, no matter how it hurt. She writhed her body and spread her legs, giving him her best imitation smile.
"Come on and get me, honey!" she cried. Maybe his pumping wouldn't take so long, this time.
He strode to the bed, his eyes afire with passion. He sank down beside her, his hand dropping between her thighs. Obediently she bucked her hips in simulated excitement.
"While I was at the doc's office this morning, I asked him some questions," Sam said, kissing her on the throat. "In fact, we had quite a talk ... He gave me a little booklet-about sex. Real interesting. He said a man like me, marrying a young woman, needed a few pointers."
Colleen felt a stab of alarm. The old bastard! Was he getting wise to her? He wasn't treating her like a dear, sweet thing; he appear-ed to have a new attitude.
"I'm so glad you learned things," she managed to answer, intimately. "I just adore it when you play with me-like that darling!"
His hand was moving in a more provocative fashion. She wiggled her bottom, parting her thighs even wider, and a little sting of pleasure awakened in her loins. His finger on her clitoris caused a sensual response!
She couldn't let this happen! Not so soon....
I should have brought myself to a climax when I woke up this morning, she thought. That damned fire ... I didn't sleep well.
She reached for an found his manhood. How rigid he was! She cozied him and felt him tremble. She was becoming more sensitive. She didn't want to come anywhere near climaxing when Sam did. She never had with any of her previous husbands. The whole idea was rather disgusting.
She felt it would make her feel inferior to men. She had to get into Missoula soon and find Sally. She might even have a new girl-friend by now. Horrible thought!
"I think I've rushed things before," Sam murmured, his lips roving toward her breasts.
She patted him and gritted her teeth. "You've always been just wonderful, honey!"
I'll kill that nosey doctor, she thought, blackly.
Sam's fingers opened the lips of her vagina and she shuddered-because the tingles were coming with more vigor. His mouth settled over a nipples, and it began to stiffen. They hardly ever turned pointy until he was nearly finished, until she could be alone and bring herself to culmination.
A ripple of excitement ran from her breasts to her loins.
"Ohhhh ... you're so clever, honey!" she gasped. And it wasn't all put-on. The old devil was working her up!
She tried to think of some excuse to break the spell. Sam's patience had been sorely tried lately; he wouldn't like it. She had to go through with her act.
Her nipples were coming up, swelling She felt a kind of achy twinge far inside, and then the flow of her coital fluids....
She quieted, hoping to stay the rise of her desire, but somehow the plan of relaxing didn't work. More thrills chased along her body. He seemed to sense her rise of interest, and his hand and mouth became more active.
"Damn" he breathed, between kisses. "This is more like it!"
"Darling, you know I've given you all my best," she managed. She was finding it hard to breathe; her simulated pantings, as quirts of need eddied through her loins, became almost genuine.
"Yes," he answered. "But I feel so much stronger!"
Typical male ego! The old....
She found her hips rising of their own accord; she wanted more! His toyings were making her shiver. She gripped his manhood and encouraged him to mount. Perhaps if he started right away she could hold her passion, control it until he was through. The animalistic thrustings she had always endured and never enjoyed would surely kill her rising desire.
Finally he swung above her. She looked down at his loins, and the vision of his shaft was almost appealing. Stop it! This is ridiculous.
She guided him in. There was nothing else to do.
A burning sensation, as his bigness spread her labia, sent a quick shiver through her pelvis. In, in, in ... ohhh-it was good!
He moaned and licked at her nipples. He didn't fall on her, mashing her. That crazy booklet....
He was so rigid he went deeper than he ever had. She was forced to respond or he would really get suspicious.
Could Jean have started that fire? It didn't seem like her. And how could she forsee anything like this?
Sam weaved his bottom, drew out a little way, and drove in even further! Ordinarily she would have flinched, but now a new kind of heat developed in her loins. She felt muscles respond with tingly shivers. Her nipples swelled.
Of all the crazy things! She liked it. She swung her hips upward, wanting more.
Sam's belly didn't seem so repulsive; his posture had a way of hardening his paunch.
Ohhhh-that was good, in deep, in deep ... The bed creaked, but it didn't rattle, as before, when he was in the last desperate stages of his pleasure.
There was no more hair-trigger situation, no need for her to strain and lift, trying to keep him inside. He was getting bigger instead of smaller!
He wasn't grunting like a boar; he was probing her with manly assurance. A few sweeps, then a pause. More flutters swept through her pelvis. He was going to drag it out, as she did when she was alone, with her hand....
I do need some kind of relief, she thought, tightening her legs around him. The big thing is to get him off, make him feel strong and virile.
Her hunger grew more intense. She began to feel warm all over. Sugary tremors raced a-long her thighs, up to her vagina.
"Ohhhh-honey!" she gasped.
Suddenly he stopped swording her and held still. She caught his plan immediately. For the first time, with Sam, she had freedom to move her hips. Oh, she had tired of trying it on top ... he had never developed enough of a hard-on to make it work.
Now, she began to swing her bottom. She teased her clitoris against his manhood, and a riot of thrills shot through her body. But, amazingly, the seat of her greatest pleasure had moved-she wanted him big and deep.
First, though, she had to tease herself by rotating and working him in slowly. There was no pain at all. Each bounce of her hips increased her thrill. How much better could it get?
She tried to be very clinical about it. This is for a new dress, this is for a sports car, this is for a mink coat, this is for a trip to Hawaii....
Slipping, sliding, up, up, up-up, up, up-pause, then more delicious writhings....
The old bag is making me pant and shiver and moan! she thought, hazily. J promised myself no man ever would.
A little spasm, far inside, gave her a hint of what was coming. She couldn't keep her mind on wishing for more clothes and luxuries; she was building a state of exotic tension that she had never believed was possible.
Many times she had toyed with her need for long, sweet moments; many times with Sally she had played around until both of them were screaming for release, but this was richer, keener. Her pleasure wasn't centered in one place, but a heat throughout her whole being was developing in slow, tantalizing stages.
Another spasm in the well of her womanhood, made her shudder.
Suddenly, when she gave a few more vigorous thrusts, the rapture became so intense she shouted. She felt a pulsing around him, a sweet tightening of all her nerves, and then-right at the point of need, right at the apex of her joy, a hard, quick pounding commenced.
The rapture came in keen gusts, and her hips flew.
Ohhhhh-I never went off like this, she thought, wildly.
The whole room seemed to dim and fade. Waves of exotic pleasure convulsed her whole body. Throb, throb, throb.
She panted out her climax. It was like thunder.
A heavenly relaxation touched her, and she dropped her bottom, swimming in a bath of joyful completion. The pulsings were a kind of exquisite reminder of what had happened, something totally new and sparkly.
And he was still big, still rigid inside her.
Ohhhhh-I want it again! I didn't think of Sally when I flipped, either. How strange and wonderful....
"Ohhh, Sam, that was luscious," she whispered.
"It sure was, darling," he breathed, kissing her nipples.
She swung upward, playfully. "Let me get on top, honey-you must be a little tired...."
He chuckled. "That would be very nice, darling."
I like the old devil, she thought. I never went off so hard in my life!
He withdrew and settled down beside her. She kissed him lingeringly. She ran her hand across his chest. Even when he wasn't inside her the tremors continued, heating her thoughts, her body.
Would she really want Sally, now? She wasn't nearly as sure about it as she had been only an hour before. Sam was security, normalcy. Even if he didn't want to do it as often as a younger man, or girl, she could wait-because this emotion inside her was rich and true.
She swung above him. She had never been so eager to do it the second time. Even with Sally she had had to wait a while between climaxes, whipping her need with all kinds of words and motions.
II he can hold off like this all the time, I'll go out of my mind!
She made the insertion, and settled her thighs in a comfortable position. The feel of him made her burn and wiggle. She moaned as she sank all the way down.
Ohhh he's in so far!
She leaned above him and commenced to swing her hips. Quirts of voluptuous pleasure stabbed her loins. He was still big.
"Make it last," he whispered, cupping her breasts.
"Ohhhh I will, honey!"
Steak and eggs. She would have to see that he had nourishing food all the time! Up-down. Up-down. The little quivers began again. Her nipples were on fire. Even Sally hadn't made them so sensitive.
Bounce, bounce-squeak, squeak. It was going to be even better!
She dallied and played and paused. She didn't have to pretend. She could let go. How wonderful!
When her climax came, at last, she shouted.
"Ohhhh-ohhhh-Sam-I'm coming!
The tumult of throbbings tossed her into a wild fit of ecstasy. Each honeyed beat of joy made her realize that she had missed something in all of her earlier sexual experiences.
Long, golden moments later she realized that Sam still was rigid.
The next time I'll faint, she thought, limp with victorious elation.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HOW GOOD A MAN CAN BE....
Jean watched her father's car wheel a-round the corner and a lump formed in her throat.
She was in front of the Troy County Court House, where a judge had performed the wedding ceremony linking Sam and Colleen. They were driving to Missoula, and would take a plane there for Reno.
Colleen had looked radiantly happy, and she actually had appeared to be crazy about Sam. How strange, after all her studied put-on. Sam had looked years younger ... confident and strong. Something had happened to him and to Colleen, after the fire at the apartment. Of course, relieving the circulatory trouble of Sam's had improved his outlook, his health. But there was more to it than that.
She hadn't quite believed Colleen when the brunette had had a moment to say a few words to Jean after the ceremony-when Sam wasn't listening.
"I know what you think of me, honey," Colleen said, brightly. "I know you tried to break us up, but I've learned something. We both know that fire couldn't have made him a new man overnight, physically. But it helped his ego ... Yesterday, at the motel, he turned into a tiger!" She laughed, softly, leaning forward to whsiper in Jean's ear. "I found out how good a man can be! He made me go three times!"
"You're just bragging," Jean said, suspiciously.
"No! That doctor told him something ... gave him a booklet about sex. Can't you see the difference in him?"
"Yes," Jean admitted.
Colleen giggled. Her mannerisms were more feminine; she had a new sparkle in her eyes. "I won't try to rob you, honey ... I think I could, but I've changed, too...."
Jean walked across the street to her car. It was mid-afternoon, and she was all dresssed up, with no place to go. She hadn't seen Carl; she hadn't gotten up the nerve to call him. The memory of him with that blonde lingered in her thoughts.
A few questions to people around town had told her who the blonde was. Nita Brooks. And she worked in Carl's office. She was single, new in town and available.
She sat in her car, watching people walk a-long the busy street. She was aware of a damning-up of her emotions. Hearing Colleen talk of having so much fun made her bitterly envious. Of course, it was grand that her father was experiencing a new lease on life.
She decided she might as well go back to her apartment and begin the task of packing, getting ready to leave for Santa Barbara. All of her dreams about Carl would have to be forgotten. He had a girl-and a plump blonde, at that.
Oh, damn her, Jean thought, squirming on the car seat. Her thighs turned prickly just from remembering Carl's lips on hers. It was a little warm in the car, and she hitched her skirt back a few inches to cool her legs.
I'll have to go home and get rid of this itchy feeling, she thought, watching a young couple stroll along the sidewalk. The girl was slender and pretty. I might even go for Donna again.
She reached for the key, bitterness in her throat, when a voice stopped her hand. A shadow appeared beside the car.
"Well, hello," Carl said.
Her heart leaped. He was bending down, looking in at her. His smile was friendly.
"I drove by a while ago and thought I saw you over at the Court House," he said, easily. No hesitation in his manner, so far.
She was fluttery with conflicting emotions. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel.
"Dad and Colleen just got married," she said. Her voice didn't sound right. "I'm leaving town soon. I'd ask you for a hand-holding session if your blonde girl friend didn't mind."
His smile faded. He opened the car door and slid in beside her. She didn't push her skirt forward. Let him see my big fat legs, she thought.
"I don't have a girl firend," he said, stiffly. "What are we going to do-fight again?"
Her heart was going boom-boom. The hurt of their last time together still rankled inside her. She had thrown herself at him and he had acted like a school boy. She turned her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes. How ridiculous! She was Hips Sampson, the girl who hired her studs and knew how to handle herself in any situation.
"What did you do with that blonde you dated the other night?" she said, tartly. "Tease her up and leave her panting? Are you still afraid to put your hands on a girl? Or am I just too big and awkward?"
"Jean, stop it!" he said, his voice tight. "I was a fool! I know that, now. I called you and ... you wouldn't listen." He reached out and touched her hand. The contact made her tremble. Ohhh-damn, how she wanted him! Her thighs were burning, her lips ached for his mouth.
"You're not big and awkward!" he went on. "You're adorable. I was always shy around the girls ... I had troubles ... That blonde you saw me with has skipped town. She had big plans for me, and I had to fire her ... Does that make you feel any better?"
She couldn't believe it.
"Didn't she give you any?" she said, her voice trembly.
"Sure," he said, dryly. "And she made me realize a few things, too." His hand tightened on hers. "Jean, give me another chance, will you? I know it sounds corny. You look very beautiful today, did you know that?"
Don't torture me, she thought.
"Big hips and all, I suppose," she said, unable to meet his eyes.
"Damn it, don't say that again!" He slid closer and put his arms around her. She had a spell of dizziness. His lips found a place under her ear and she trembled. "I want you so bad it hurts me," he whispered.
"Well, why don't you show it?" she gasped. "Put your hand under my skirt. Feel me!"
His hand left hers. It dropped to her knees and moved in on her thighs, above the tops of her nylons. A flame leaped into life between her legs. He moaned as his fingers traveled enticingly along the expanse of her widening thighs.
Ohhhhh-why didn't he do that before? she wondered, curling her hips nearer.
Suddenly his mouth sought hers, found it. He covered her lips possessively, boring in until they opened, fluttered, softened. His hand reached her panties and cupped her heated woman-mound. Darts of sensuous excitement roared along her body.
"Whooeee!" a voice said, from the sidewalk.
He didn't jerk away. He kept on kissing her, holding his hand firmly on the place of her want.
I guess he does want me, after all she thought hazily.
His tongue plunged boldly between her lips, into her mouth. She shuddered. Her panties were burning! Ohhhh, it made her so dizzy and it was good and right!
A whistle from the sidewalk finally drew them apart.
"Damned peepers," Carl muttered, darkly.
But she had her answer. Actions were so much more dramatic than words. Big hips or not, he was after her. Well, even if it was only for a momentary thrill, she didn't care.
"I don't mind getting kissed on Main Street," she said, happily. Will it work out? Will he treat me like a man should? I don't want to be hurt again. I thought I had nerves of steel, but I don't.
"Do you know where my apartment is, Jean?"
"I have a vague idea," she lied.
He squeezed her leg. "My car's just down the street. You follow in yours, will you?"
Her heart was banging around in her chest. "In the middle of the afternoon? Shame on you!"
"We've sparred around long enough," he said, his hand drifting under hsr skirt again.
"Will you come?"
She opened her thighs and lifted against his hand. Fizzy tingles rewarded her effort. No one could see inside the front seat....
"Is that enough answer for you?" she laughed.
He trembled. He squeezed gently. "It sure as hell is!"
As he opened the door of his apartment, and she walked in, she thought, that other girl was here. Nita Brooks. Did he really fire her? If he can get rid of girls that fast he can do the same with me.
He was different. He had a new confidence. She had sensed it in the car, and she felt it even more strongly here. He closed the door and turned to her. His arms went around her, tightly, possessively.
"I can't believe you're really here, Jean" he muttered, breathing in her hair.
Maybe I didn't get dressed up for nothing, after all, she thought. The strength of his arms made her dizzy. He really meant it.
She wore a pale blue two-piece suit, one she had picked for the wedding. She had taken her hat off as soon as she had entered her car. She knew she looked as good as she could. Her girdle was very light-weight, and her undies were very sheer. But why worry about clothes now?
"I'm here, Carl. Why don't you put your hand back where it was, before?"
She didn't want to think beyond the present. He had come out of his shell and now he could give the girls around town a real romping. Big and handsome and virile. She would take him any way he wanted her. She would have a memory, at least.
No deep, soulful stuff. She would be giddy and reckless and enjoy it for as long as she could.
"Come on," she whispered. "Feel me up and make me hot! Fat girls like sex, too."
"Don't talk that way," he said, trembling. "You're not fat. You're nice and rounded and you drive me crazy!"
"Compliments will get you everything," she whispered.
He drew her to the sofa, easing her down. His mouth dropped over hers, where she wanted it, and her lips burned fiercely. She opened them for his tongue, and in it came, big and tingly. The intensity of his ardor, so evident on their first date, now seemed to grow and flower.
This time he was doing something about it!
She knew her skirt was halfway to her hips, and suddenly his hand was under it, on the itchy planes of her thighs, caressing and fondling. She spread her legs to give him room. She writhed her lips against his, receiving the slow pokes of his tongue, bathed in sweet anticipation.
Her breasts grew firm. She wanted his hand on them, opening her suit-top, but right now his fingers were finding the stretch of her panties, claiming her femininity again. She arched her hips upward.
She hadn't had a man for so long she was frantic for it. And what a man! She wasn't going to pay him, either. He wanted her for what she was.
Sweet twinges of need curled through her loins, up to her nipples. His tongue was bold and voluptuously exciting, sliding in and out, in and out.
His mouth lifted. His fingers played over her thighs, then back to her already moist panties.
"Ohhhhh-that's very good, sweets!" she gasped. "You certainly have changed."
"I sure wanted to do this-that other time, but I was afraid...."
"Well, if you like big-hipped gals, I'm your meat."
"Stop it, Jean!" he said, his voice tight with felling, "You're more than just a gal. You're the woman I want! I know this may sound crazy, but-I love you, and I have ever since I saw you!"
She trembled with more than passion. Was she hearing it right? Wasn't there some mistake?
"You don't know what I am Carl," she said, fighting her tears again.
All those men I hired, then Donna ... and what about my mechanical aid?
"The hell I don't!" he cried. "You're sweet and desirable and-I'm no angel, I can tell you!"
The tears came, and she couldn't help them. It was so terribly nice to have a real man want her for herself without any transfer of money, without the onus of paid stud in her mind.
He kissed her gently, and her lips had never been so tremblingly responsive. A rush of gratitude made her give and give. His hand on her vee was a wand, whirling her into a new realm of sensation.
When his tongue came out of her eager mouth, at last, she hugged him with all her strength and whispered.
"Oh, Carl-I love you, too!"
She didn't care how corny it sounded, or anything else. It expressed her feeling, it gave her a new tingly awareness of him. She had hardened her heart against things like this, she had gone down a lot of bypaths, but this was what she really wanted, what any real girl wanted-a man she could call her very own!
She felt so lighthearted she wanted to sing, and her natural good humor returned. She murmured :
"If you don't treat me right and make me pant and moan, I won't let you have it, darling!"
His hand on her panties trembled. Sweet waves of desire made her quake.
He caught her mood. "If I don't prove to be a good lover, I don't deserve you!'"
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she whispered, swinging her hips recklessly. For the first time in her life they felt small.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NO MORE HIRED STUDS
Her blue suit was draped over the back of a chair. Her girdle and nylons were off, too. She lay on his bed wearing only her panties and bra. The afternoon sunlight crept in around the bedroom draperies, bathing her in a soft glow.
Carl removed his shorts, and the vision of his naked loins, his rigid manhood, made her shudder.
"My, what a big one you have!" she giggled, squirming on the counterpane. She wanted to be playful and skittish, and his smile said he liked her that way.
"The better to please you with, my dear," he smirked wolfishly.
He came toward her. She arched her breasts upward, begging him to take her bra off. He would soon take care of that! He had helped her undress, fondling her body, touching, carressing, driving her crazy.
I'm glad I dropped Donna, she thought. I'm glad I didn't rush back to California!
He sank down on the bed, at her side, His manhood grazed her thigh, and she reached down, holding him.
"Ohhhhh, Carl!" she gasped. Don't think a-bout all those hired studs, now. Carl is twice the man any of them ever were! I'll burn that damned rubber tube! I won't ever use it again!
His hand roamed along her thighs, up to the stretch of nylon covering her womanhood. Quirts of amorous longing enveloped her, rich and full and gratifying.
"Is this what you want, sweet?" he murmured, his hand stealing inside her panties.
"Almost," she teased, shivering.
"How's that?"
"Ohhh-nice!" He was caressing her down-y vee. "Aren't you going to take my bra off?"
"Give me time!"
She sighed, spreading her legs, swimming in a bath of luxurious anticipation. His finger probed and tickled and stabs of delight curled through her loins. She wiggled her hips, panting joyfully. She caressed his manhood, feeling him swell and become even more rigid. How big! Could she really accommodate him? Could he get it in?
His hand left her vee and went to her breasts. He opened her bra, at last. Her mounds jutted, her nipples were furiously spiked.
"Damn!" he breathed, caressing her.
She looked down at her velvety mountains, red-tipped. They were huge! They had never been so large, so sensitive. His tanned fingers playing with her nipples made her quake.
"Make them tingle, honey!" she breathed.
He raised up and lowered his mouth toward a cherry-red spike. She had dreamed of this, imagined it so many times, she could hardly believe it was real.
But when his lips went around a tender, swollen peak, she shuddered and knew it was real.
"That better?" he whispered, between kisses.
"Ohhhh-yes! But take my panties off!"
His hand went down there. He tugged and her filmy garment began to scoot from her hips. She used her left hand to help him. Every touch of his hand was a burning knife, sinking into her body, awakening delirious responses.
A moment later and she was naked.
Immediately his hand claimed her vee. She hugged her mound against his palm, shivering.
"That's much better!" she cried, softly.
"What about thisT' he whispered.
Stings of joy coursed through her as sensuous waves of need throbbed as he continued with his hand.
"Ohhh ... wonderful!" she cried.
He whispered in her ear. "Are you going to go off good, darling."
"Ohhh-I'll just go wild!
He drew a taut nipple far into his mouth. His hand wandered along the sweet labia where her love-flow made her ready.
She urged him above her. He swung there, smoothly, placing his knees between her outspread thighs. Clasping him answered another dream. Her legs were ablaze where they touched his muscular body.
She guided him hectically into the dewy folds of her shivery femininity.
"Ohhhhh!" she cried.
He moaned. His bigness spread her, spread her-filling her in a way she had never been filled before. The heat of his shaft sent flutters of exotic joy along her spine, up to her nipples, where his lips lingered, sipping at her need.
"Ohhh ... lover!" she gasped, lifting, snugging herself around him. Shivers, like honeyed barbs, raced through her loins. No hired stud had ever given her such a passionate thrill.
I'm sure I can just go and go! she thought, dreamily. I have to prove I can be a good, hot bed-partner. With hired men it didn't make any difference. This is very important!
His bigness slid to the very core of her womanly depths. A throbbing wave of delight made her legs tighten on him, and sugary contractions of her love-core tore a cry from her throat.
This was the answer to so many dreams and wishes, so many hopes. She thought of all her lonely years and the gush of her joy grew even sweeter.
"Ohhh-ohhh ... Carl!" she panted.
He didn't answer; he continued to kiss her nipples, bringing them up into fiery peaks. He drew out and then sank his rigidity into her a-gain. Slowly, again-wonderfully again! She met his strokes, as tiny waves of rapture made her whole body glow.
The voluptuous snugness of him was more than she could bear. Little nerve-ends quivered; her tension mounted. The bed went up and down, up and down, sighing out a song of pleasure.
Ohhh-it was starting.' Ohhh-just a little more ... just a few deep thrusts....
I wanted to hold it, but now I can't! I'm going off! But I know I can again ... and again .
The heaven came in quick little stabs, convulsive and explosive. She seemed to be jerking and twisting all over. It didn't come in her pelvic areas alone, it came sweetly to every part of her being. She had never dreamed it could be so complete, so shiveringly total.
"Ohhhh-ohhhh!" she cried, as the voluptuous pulsings went on and on.
Each throb soared her higher, higher until she was floating in his arms, swinging her bottom, digging her fingers into his shoulders. Nothing had ever been like that!
Finally, she quieted, resting while she regained her breath. And he was still big and hard inside her!
"Ohhh-Carl!" she whispered. "Ohhhhh....
I want to please you!"
Poised above her, his eyes warm with passion, he smiled.
"You are, darling," he breathed. "You certainly arel
"But...."
"I want you to have it again, sweet...."
"Ohhh-yes!"
She was free to move, now. She started the up-swings, slowly. Her nerves gathered for another storm. Everything was so close and hot and good. There was new meaning in her motions. She wasn't using a paid escort to satisfy her own selfish needs; she was intent on pleasing her man, her own big male.
Ohh ... like that ... and that ... and that! More of it, around and around, up and up, now resting while the shivers grew keener, then up and up again, again....
Golden moments ticked away. When she felt the sweet bunchings start, she held, aware of his quickening interest, the exquisite swelling of his manhood.
Just a little more ... carefully, slowly....
Play with it, make it good. Her hunger was a rich flame.
Ohhhhalmost ... almost ... not yet ... up, up, up ... ohhh almost again ... and....
Suddenly he gripped her and the sweep of him into her depths was wild and tempestuous. The honey poured from her bodyand they reached the high point together....
The swift wrenching, like a hurricane in her loins, made her shout and shout. And far away she heard his moan, felt the gush of his virility into her seething depths. Her answering throbs transcended anything she had ever known. The heavenly claspings, the exquisite heavings, rich and full, answered all her desperate dreams and wishes....
And right at the peak of her sensation, he seemed to find an extra-sensitive place deep inside. Another gust of passion shook her-another storm of pulsings tore at her loins.
"Ohhhhhh-OH ... OH ... OHHHH!" she cried.
They were side by side, now. Close and warm.
"Was that good for you, darling?" he whispered, his hand on her vee.
"Ohhh heavenly!" she breathed.
"I've never had it so good, Jean. Never."
She kissed his throat and whispered in his ear. "I never did, either, honey." She giggled, teasing her hand down on his loins, holding him. "And pretty soon I want that nice big wonderful thing inside me again...."
He chuckled. "You'll get it, sweet. You'll get it."
She sighed. She felt him stir and enlarge. Hips Sampson finally had her wish. She hoped Colleen and Sam were happy, and she couldn't even think badly of Donna.
