Elaine can put up with her sexually unappealing husband only because he is a prominent movie director-who's also rich and famous. She is willing to sacrifice passion for the jet set life which she has become accustomed to living.
Her horny stepson makes up for his father's lack of physical prowess. He constantly tries to seduce Elaine, but she finds the fact that she has desires that need to be fulfilled, hard to accept.
It's a revelation when Elaine finally gives in to her body's needs. She sets out on a sexual journey, sampling men who know every style of sex imaginable, and who come in every size and shape possible!
CHAPTER ONE
Elaine Westlake awoke from her dream and tried to remember it.
Fluffing her pillow up behind her back, she looked around the luxurious bedroom, and concentrated.
Yes, it was coming to her now!
Her husband, Kirk, had come home and told her the stock market had plunged and he had lost everything! They were broke, had nothing, and the beautiful estate where they lived would have to be sold for little or nothing. Her furs and her diamonds would have to go into hock. Then the dream revealed men coming in and carrying out every stick of her beautiful furniture, and the men were laughing while she was crying.
The dream then switched to a little shack that sat just a few ridiculous feet from a fire-belching steel mill and a railroad track.
"This is our new home," her husband announced, his features fading in and out of the dream like the figure of some hideous monster.
Well, that part of the dream was true, anyway. It had portrayed Elaine's husband just the way she saw him in real life: a hideous monster. But the rest, thank God, was just a dream. She still had her gorgeous home, and all the expensive things that made life worth living.
She thought of her days before marriage, being in front of the camera and constantly bothered by autograph seekers. Early-morning calls at the studio, hours in makeup and wardrobe, memorizing her lines, reading scripts....
Well, little Elaine, you've come a long way, she told herself.
With that happy thought she jumped out of bed.
Let's see, she thought, what will I wear today? Where will I go?
What difference does it make?
She could go anywhere she pleased, do anything she wanted. She was free ... except for Kirk.
No, she was nowhere near free as far as Kirk was concerned. Her fear of him was there, and, she supposed, would always be there.
A hot, steaming shower helped to drive the depressing thoughts of Kirk from her mind.
But they wouldn't disappear completely. It was just something she would have to live with, for it was a certainty her famous husband, at least in his private life, was never going to change into something that vaguely resembled being human.
Resembling something very much human, a figure crouched outside the glass doors to Elaine's bedroom. His urge was human, his mission was nothing less than human, and his fears were human too.
The man's swarthy skin glistened from his climbing effort. Droplets of perspiration stood out on his face and formed tiny rivulets that had begun to trickle annoyingly down his face and neck. As he gained the portico, stepping cautiously over the railing, he crouched low in order to take a quick look around, all his senses alert to possible discovery. His keen ears told him that his quarry was up and moving around the bedroom. The double French doors opened out upon the porch where he stood. Good! He was in luck this morning. He would get to see her again!
Three weeks ago, a few days after he had begun work as a gardener on the Westlake estate, he had climbed to this portico via a tall ladder to trim some overgrown vines. It was then he had seen her, accidentally, for the first time. The memory of what he had seen stirred in him, moving in his very being. The thrust of the pounding blood in his veins arrowed straight and true to the heavy protuberance of his loins, where he felt it working, sensually.
Still crouching low, he made his cautious, soundless way to the vantage point at the side of the many-paned door where there was a slight gap in the curtain. He knelt down and put his face close to the opening. Almost the entire room was visible to him, but he did not see her at first. He cursed under his breath. Maybe she was in the bathroom already. Patiently, he waited, telling himself that he was a fool to place himself in such a position ... here he was, kneeling in the warm sun on his employer's porch hoping to catch sight of her in the intimate details of her morning dressing ritual! It's crazy, man, crazy!
Suddenly, there she was before him! The opened bathroom door revealed the pink-white and blonde loveliness of her. He cursed the bath towel draped carelessly at a diagonal across her body as she drifted across the room to stand for a moment beside the bed. The towel came off, sliding down and away, and was flung languidly to the bed. His involuntary gasp sounded terribly loud to himself. Christ! He couldn't afford to be discovered there!
The vision before his eyes moved now to the full-length mirrors of the closet doors. The smooth, long-legged loveliness of her, topped with slightly damp golden-blonde hair, reflected back to him clearly. The upthrust mounds of her breasts were alabaster-white, marbled with soft, blue veinings just below the surface of the skin ... that unbelievably white skin. He watched, lust screaming through him, as her hands-tapered fingers curling caressingly-moved up and cupped those magnificent breasts. He tried to imagine his own hands caressing that same female flesh.
With a low, soft moan of hopelessness and desire he turned reluctantly away from the vision and cautiously retraced his steps. Why ... he asked himself ... why hadn't he broken into her room and taken her ... did with her as he wanted ... raped her in one wild moment of sexual abandon ... Christ! He knew the answer ... he just didn't have the nerve! He was scared ... scared to death!
The cupped breasts in her hands were sore to her gentle touch. Elaine, unaware that she was being watched, catalogued the places where she hurt. Now, running her hands over the contours of her body, she winced in pain as she discovered other tender areas on her curving thighs. She probed and explored the hurts.
"Damn!" she sighed. "Damn him!"
Her eyes wandered to the partly opened closet door. Rows of exquisite garments, hung carefully in protective plastic covers, awaited her selection. A small fortune, by some standards, was represented by the gorgeous array of dresses and suits. Each was an original ... very fashionable, very chic ... and very expensive. Her husband, Kirk Westlake, had supplied the money for their purchase, as he had for the luxurious appointments of the bedroom, the rest of the house ... and the Jag she drove.
The sight of all those beautiful clothes seemed to blot the memory of the pain from her mind. She had most everything she had ever wanted: marriage to a successful movie director, a beautiful home, a powerful new car to drive, and clothing-all original creations, with accessories to match. She had it made!
Yes! She had it made! From bit player to cameo roles, to stardom ... then, marriage to her director; it was her marriage that had made all of this affluence possible. But it was also her marriage that had revealed a whole new and ugly world of sex to her. Her husband was not the same man who had courted her with Old World eloquence and courtly manners.
"Beast!" she said to herself again. Her hand strayed to a tender breast. Was it worth it? She knew the answer as she reached out to make a selection from a number of suits. Choosing a gay and colorful silk print dress, she held it up to her body, her mind aglow with the prospect of her shopping tour planned for that day. Several well-known boutiques were having special showings of their new collections. She had received special invitations! After all, she was Mrs. Kirk Westlake and she had unlimited credit at all the salons. Pushed into the back of her mind was any serious consideration of the state of her marriage. The hurts of her voluptuous body were forgotten in the excitement of her preparations for a fabulous day of reckless spending. Yes! It was all worth it ... to her!
Dressed in the mini-skirted print, her makeup done to perfection, Elaine descended the stairs to the living room, intending to eat a small breakfast before leaving to drive to downtown Beverly Hills. Halfway down the stairs she saw him sprawled on the couch. Involuntary repulsion rose in her. It was Peter Westlake, her stepson, who at eighteen was only three years her junior. She had not quite adjusted-even yet-to the fact of their relationship, and she was constantly made aware of their nearness in age. Peter had a way of never letting her forget.
As she surveyed his figure on the couch, he seemed to be sleeping. Good! The last thing she wanted was another confrontation with the youth. He had been gone for about ten days, and during that time she had lost some of the apprehension he generated in her.
Resolutely, she decided against breakfast. She wanted to leave now while he slept. She made for the service entrance leading to the garage.
Just as she reached the door, her hand on the doorknob, she was stopped, startled by his voice behind her.
"Elaine!"
She whirled to face him, her defenses up. "Peter!" she gasped, "I thought you were asleep!"
Half-glazed eyes looked down at her. "I was," he said, his dirty hand going uncertainly up to the scraggly beard and then going to his shoulder-length hair to scratch loose a flake of dandruff.
"I was," he repeated, "but I heard you ... as you floated by ... and my dream became a reality ... the vision was you ... my dear mother." He leered at her, her eyes sweeping over her trim body in suddenly sharp focus.
The wild look of him frightened her. She had never seen him quite like this. Quickly, she said, "I have some shopping to do...."
She turned to open the door, her only thought to avoid further contact with him. His hand closed over hers on the doorknob and his free hand rested on the jamb. She was trapped between him and the door as he stood close behind her, the uncomfortable closeness suddenly giving rise to a feeling of panic.
"Peter," she said, trying to make her voice firm and authoritative. "Stop playing games!"
Turning in the circle of his arms, her eyes blazing up at him, she put both hands against his chest and roughly shoved him away. As she did so, she was aware of the filthy condition of his nondescript clothing. The stench of them filled her nostrils. Unconsciously, she noted as he stumbled back a step that his fly was unzipped, his dirty shorts plainly visible through the opening.
"What's the matter, Mother dear, don't you dig me?"
"Don't be impossible!" she snapped.
"Hey, you're groovy when you're mad."
He again came close to her, his lips twisted into a leer. She backed away until she touched the door. Whirling, she grasped the doorknob and wrenched it open. In a moment she gained the sanctuary of her car. The garage door had been left open by her husband. The way was clear for her escape. She keyed the powerful engine into life, slipped the gears into reverse and gunned the sleek car out into a circular driveway. She saw him in the rear-view mirror. He stood in the door of the garage, his fly now fully open. How disgusting! As she drove rapidly down the driveway, he waved at her, his fingers shaping an obscene gesture.
"My God!" Elaine said aloud to herself. "I don't believe it!"
CHAPTER TWO
Elaine drove for several moments, trying desperately to change the direction of her thoughts. But try as she might she could not erase that final scene from her mind.
While it may have been the final scene in Elaine's mind, such was not the case of the depraved young man, his fly open to the elements, his huge, half-erect cock flapping wildly about. He was lunging about the oil-slickened room in a frenzy of unsatisfied lust, looking for anything to quench his carnal thirst-an old inner tube, a half-hardened can of lubricant to dissipate his erotic fury.
Then he saw it-the portable automobile vacuum cleaner! His sick but cunning mind went quickly to work. That Auto Vac sure builds up a lot of suction....I'll bet ifs got real possibilities! Haw!
His hardening cock oozing slimy drops of pre-seminal juice, his stubby features growing more and more flushed with excitement, he climbed a small step-stool and unhooked the vacuum from the wall. He plugged it in, inspecting the fittings that were snapped onto the top of the canister.
They all looked interesting. "Hmmm," he said aloud, "these all look like fun. Let's see-this one's got a brush around it, almost like a real pussy! Umm ... this one's too narrow. Shit, I don't know-guess I'll just have to try them all out on this pecker of mine, and see which works best. Now that's the kind of research I like to do!" He snickered malevolently.
The machine roared to life when Peter flipped the little toggle switch. The hose began to snake about wildly from its sudden internal pressure. Peter grabbed the end and fitted it onto the more cunt-like head. He was breathing hoarsely, slowly frisking his meat back and forth, working it to full erection, smacking his lips in obscene self-satisfaction when the job was done.
He moved his throbbing penis toward the hand holding the vacuum hose. He did this slowly, wishing to prolong the agony of frustration and expectation. Then-Eureka! His flesh touched the soft bristles around the opening of the fitting, sending a lascivious tingle down his spine. Peter forced his tool further past the bristles, till he could feel the plastic. Now all he had to do was get it into the hose, for a nice tight fit.
"DAMN IT TO HELL!" he raged. His cock was too fat to fit! The appliance barely sucked in the first half of his head, and that was really nowheresville as far as the libidinous adolescent was concerned. Then he realized that the only thing he could do was get the goddam thing soft and small enough so that it could get sucked right into the pipe, and harden while already inside-that would be perfect!
He made a mad dash for the grimy sink with the cracked rubber hoses running from the faucets. He brushed away a few cans of STP, grabbed a hose, aimed it at his head, and let loose a powerful stream of ice-cold water. "Yaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhh!" he screamed. It was cold. But that did the trick. The sudden shock had rendered his ordinarily awesome member shrivelled and pathetically malleable; before his lust could resurface, he grabbed the suctioning hose and jammed it into his crotch.
His diminished tool disappeared into the nozzle with a slurp, much like the sound made when one is sucking in a few strands of spaghetti. "Fwap."
The sensation was immediate and gratifying. "Aaaaaahhhh ... this is the cat's ass. Let me see how this pulls...." Peter braced his knees and leaned back, while holding onto the nozzle with one hand. The vacuum was terrific. Peter was able to pull his pecker almost free from the tube, while the vacuum sucked in the loose flesh around his head. He almost screamed with pleasure, which was heightened by a sense of his own depraved ingenuity. "I'm ... ugh ... a fuckin' ... UNNNNnnnnn ... GENIUS!" He had almost come, but jammed the nozzle against his crotch. The sensation was just unpleasant enough to prevent his jizm from leaving his body.
The noisily whining machine now firmly under his control, he began to let his mind wander. What if his luscious stepmother had never made it out of the garage ... what if he had been able to rush into Elaine's car just after she had scrambled in....
"No ... NO! Get away from me, you filthy animal ... ugggghh ... Leave me alone!" In his mind's bloodshot eye he saw himself overpowering her, with the strength of his arms and also possibly with the rancid unwashed smell issuing from his person.
Peter had his stepmother pinned against the driver's door, while his legs were bracing his assault from the opposite entry. Elaine was trying to kick and knee him, but she didn't have enough leverage and only succeeded in making her light dress ride up past her hips, exposing to his maniacal gaze the straining muscles of her inner thighs, and an occasional glimpse of fur-rimmed cunt lip which would be exposed as her panties were pulled around by the sheer force of the struggle.
Suddenly Peter grasped her ankles and leaned forward with all his strength. He had her immobilized against the car door, her thighs spread, her ass heaving in vain, her cunt fully visible, the lips contorting provocatively as she squirmed to get free.
"Ha! I've got you now, chick!" Peter snarled. "Now you gonna get hip, or do I get nasty?"
"OK, OK ... you win...." she panted in defeat. "Wh-what are you going to do?"
"Three guesses," the creepy young man said. As he spoke he had both her narrow ankles in one hand, gripping tightly while the other hand wound its way slowly down toward his jerking, pulsating meat. He shifted his body so that his prod would be eye-level to his now submissive victim. "Take a look, Mom. Pretty impressive, what do you say?"
"Oh ... n-no ... get that thing out of my sight...."
"That's just what I had in mind. I'm gonna stick it down your throat and you won't have to look at it. Now open wide, and no monkey business-know what I mean?"
"Y-yes," she whimpered. "Just hurry up and g-get it over with...."
"What's the rush? We've got all day. Now open wide...."
As this vicious fantasy raged in his mind, Peter was humping steadily into the vacuum cleaner, jamming it into his crotch whenever the incredible suction threatened to take him over the edge. He was bouncing slowly up and down, his knees pistoning obscenely, his ass-cheeks twitching in convulsive rhythms....
"Aaahhh ... this is real good ... almost better than pussy! Boy, if I had Elaine in that car right now I'd be putting my cock in her mouth and shoving it down...."
"... your throat! Oooohhhh ... that's it ... aaaaagggghhh ... now hold your head still while I fuck your face ... and get those teeth out of the way!"
She did as he said, rounding her mouth into an "O," sheathing her sharp pointed teeth with her lips, all the while feeling his massive man-meat work its way slowly toward her throat.
Good thing I've got deep-throating down cold, she thought with relief. Otherwise this psycho would strangle me with his dork and think nothing of it ... I'd better play along....
In the car, Peter was shoving his cock slowly down her throat, while low animal moans issued from his constricted throat. He felt her glottal opening close against his cockhead, and noted with pleasure that his balls were slapping against his stepmother's chin. He looked at her face for a moment. Somehow she almost seemed to be getting used to the idea.
Peter released her ankles and took hold of one of her hands. Placing it under his scrotum, he commanded her to play with his balls.
"Mmmmmmmfffff," she gurgled.
That must have meant yes, because the next thing he knew she was squeezing his balls rhythmically, closing her hand tightly as he hunched forward, releasing her grip on the outstroke ... then she grasped the loose skin of his hairy bag between thumb and forefinger and pulled it every which way.
Peter expressed his appreciation by seeking out her tits. While one hand held down her neckline, the other went underneath her dress, fished out a firm, round tit, and let it drop with a bounce.
"I'm gonna play with your tit while you suck me off. ... Oh yeah, mama, you're lookin' good ... real good!" He dug his fingers into her soft, resilient flesh, squeezing, measuring, testing its yielding texture. "Feels good ... real good," he breathed. He pinched her nipple between thumb and index and rolled it around, occasionally giving her areola a pinch.
What's happening to me? Elaine moaned inwardly. He's playing with my nipples and ... and I'm actually responding! They're getting stiffer and stiffer ... Ooohhh ... and his big cock is starting to feel good in my mouth....
His strokes began to increase their speed. Now every time he pushed his cock in, he pushed her tit into her chest; whenever he pulled out, the tit was stretched away from her. She squirmed under his grasp.
Suddenly all this precisely choreographed sexual activity overwhelmed him "I'm ... gonna ... shooooOOOOOOOT! OOOOOHHHHHHA-AAAAAH!" He put his fingers on her throat to feel the movements as she swallowed load after load, while his body jerked sideways, spasmed, and fell aginst the steering wheel....
The little kid on the bicycle, passing by the garage, was surprised to hear what sounded like somebody yelling "BEEP! BEEEEEEP!! BEEEEEEEEP!!!" over the whining din of a vacuum cleaner....
As Elaine sat languidly smoking a cigarette and drinking her coffee in a Beverly Hills restaurant, remembering how she had been that night ... when she had been on the point of taking that giant step into adulthood, when she had been a frightened teenager scared of the unknown, ready, but unready, yet ... knowing, yet not knowing what to expect ... she became acutely aware that the re-creation in her mind of that night had not been wasted ... her body was reacting, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair and carefully recrossed her legs. She was getting hot! But, God ... what could she do about it? She wouldn't dare do what she knew other women did-perhaps even some here in this restaurant. They picked up men during the day, had their fun, and, presumably, their husbands were none the wiser. But Kirk? God! Kirk had made it clear to her that she would never be unfaithful to him! His was a consuming jealousy. If he ever carried out even a small portion of what he threatened ... She shuddered. Her husband was certainly a strange man, to put it mildly. Forcefully, she put him out of her mind. Her reverie returned. She was back in Ben Whitlow's house, naked in the bathroom.
Somehow she'd ended up fully clothed in his parents' swimming pool. They were alone there at the house and Ben had promised to go and get her one of his mother's robes while her clothes were drying.
Elaine caught sight of her breasts in the bathroom mirror. She hesitated a moment before gently moving her hands across them. They were soft and full and she watched herself carefully as her fingers dropped slowly down her belly. She thought of the way Ben held her. The way he touched her. She slipped her fingers between her legs, sliding them in and out around the wet lips and brushing the clitoris.
The door to the bathroom opened slowly and Ben entered quietly. Elaine, startled at Ben's image in the mirror, pulled her hands away from her body and looked down guiltily. Ben stood watching her shyly, tall and lean with curly brown hair and the beginnings of a mustache framing his full lips. He wore only tight, red jockey shorts and Elaine couldn't help staring at the prominent outline of his large cock as it swelled under her gaze.
"Ben...." Elaine breathed heavily and quivered as he placed his hand gently on her shoulder.
"You're so beautiful, Elaine." Ben moved his body toward her and Elaine could feel his hard, swollen crotch pressing into the back of her body.
"Oh God...." Elaine reached her hands behind her and slipped her groping hands into Ben's shorts. His face tightened as if he were in pain and he let out his breath.
Ben stepped out of his shorts and pulled Elaine around to face him. His penis bobbed stiffly and he placed Elaine's hands around it again.
"My God, Ben...! We can't ... We've got to stop this...."
He reached between her legs and anxiously rubbed her moistened vulva. Elaine felt it throb and let out a moan. He kissed her gently on the lips; then, giving in to the rising desire in his loins, he drew her in close and forced his tongue between her lips. They drifted down slowly to the thick, moss-green carpet.
"Jesus Elaine, I want to make love to you so bad!"
"Ben ... Oh Ben, I want you, too!"
He flicked his tongue over her nipples and gently squeezed her breasts. His tongue moved back up to her mouth and as he stretched his body over hers, she squirmed under him.
"Oh God, I want to fuck you Elaine! So bad...."
Elaine pressed her fingertips into Ben's hard-muscled ass, then rolled over on top of him. She felt his cock underneath her and rubbed her hands across his face and the smooth hardness of his body.
"Ben ... Oh God, please! We can't! Oh Ben...."
"Don't worry, Elaine, Okay? It will be all right." He put his hands firmly on her hips and moved her up to his mouth, keeping her in place while he sucked hard on her sweet young breasts, pulling hard on the nipples. Elaine undulated from side to side and moaned softly above him.
"Oh Ben, isn't there something we can do without...."
"Without having my hard cock inside your hot, wet cunt!" Ben pulled Elaine's body up even further to his face, so that her cunt, dripping with lubrication, was directly over his mouth and her pubic hair brushed against his face. Elaine wriggled hard, but Ben held onto her firmly.
"Ben! What are you going to do?" Elaine was just a little afraid of the unknown and of the power of her own sensations.
"Relax, Elaine. This is going to feel real gooood!" Ben began to flick his tongue lightly over her labia, running it over her clitoris, then squeezing it between his lips. Elaine rolled over onto her back and Ben rearranged his position so that he could work easily between her legs.
"God, I've never felt anything like this! Are you sure I can't get pregnant from this? It feels too good to be safe!"
Ben laughed softly before inserting his tongue in her vagina and sucking gently on the lips. He pushed his tongue in and out quickly, teasing her and making her hungry for deeper penetration.
"Please, ooo ... Oh Ben! It feels sooo goood!" Elaine began to move her hips in a circular motion, increasing the pressure of Ben's rough tongue on her hot, wet cunt. She wrapped her legs around him, breathing heavily and starting to go wild with the incredible concentration of passion burning through her twisting body.
"You like it, don't you baby?"
"Yes! Oh God ... Yes, Yes!"
To tease her, Ben pulled his tongue away suddenly and smiled at her. Elaine wriggled feverishly and tried to pull his head back to the burning place between her legs. Ben kissed her thighs and laughed softly.
"Do you want me to stop now, Elaine?"
Elaine almost whimpered. "Please, nooo ... I want it, Ben. You do me so goood!" Elaine screamed as Ben plunged his tongue deep into her vagina. He jammed it in deeper and deeper and withdrew, sucking hard on her labia and clitoris. Then he forced it in again, burying his face in her dripping cunt and pubic hair.
She began to pant and moan, out of control and riding a wave of terror and sensation that would continue to build and build until her nerve endings snapped. Her hips now had a mind of their own-undulating and pressing her vulva into Ben's loving mouth. She began to dig her nails into him, scratching and clawing as her passion transformed her into a vicious animal.
"Oh my God! I can't stand it!" Elaine moaned and screamed as she approached the peak. "Oh my God! I think I'm ... Oh my God! I think I'm going to...."
Ben felt Elaine's body tense suddenly.
"Don't fight it, baby! Don't be afraid!" Ben licked her furiously, forcing her to reach her climax over any fears that she had.
"Oh my God!" Elaine screamed. I'm ... I'm coming!"
Elaine screamed and thrashed wildly, riding the ultimate wave of orgasm and drifting down slowly from its crest.
"I love you, Ben," Elaine whimpered. Ben settled down into the carpet next to her and held her in his arms. They kissed passionately, Elaine tasting her own salty cunt in Ben's mouth.
"You're all flushed," Ben smiled as he looked over her sexually satisfied body. Elaine moved slightly and Ben could feel her wet vagina and damp pubic hair against his body. His poor, neglected penis jumped a little as a twinge of desire ran through it.
"What are we going to do about you?" Elaine smiled at Ben wickedly.
"I can think of a few things," Ben answered.
"I bet you can," Elaine laughed at him. She pushed him over on his back and wet her palms with her tongue.
"What do you think you're doing?" Ben demanded, pretending to be angry.
"Penises need love too, Ben." Elaine began to roll Ben's receptive rod between her moistened palms and it began to swell in appreciation.
"I think it likes you." Ben pushed his face up and kissed her lightly on her face. Elaine pushed him back down and positioned herself between his knees, as he had for her. She slid her tongue along the length of Ben's ample cock, then put her hand around it. She squeezed his penis gently but firmly and moved her hand up and down with it, in an action that was very familiar to him.
"That feels pretty good, Elaine. You know if you touch a man's penis you're not a virgin anymore."
"Then I guess I'm okay, considering I'm touching a boy's penis. And besides, I'm not touching it, I'm sucking on it!"
Elaine took Ben's cock into her mouth, wrapping her lips around it and sucking energetically.
"Am I doing this right?" Elaine looked at him questioningly for a moment, as it occurred it her that her technique might be lacking.
"You know, Ben, I've only read about this in books. I've never done it before!"
"You're a good reader, Elaine!" Ben sighed with pleasure as Elaine continued to go down on him. She certainly did seem to be a quick learner. Elaine put his balls in her mouth and rolled them around with her tongue.
"You won't come in my mouth, will you, Ben?"
"I'll try not to, baby." Ben closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations emanating from Elaine's mouth and hands and flooding into his penis. He had gotten hard very quickly and he worried that he wouldn't be able to prolong the experience.
"I'm afraid I'm going to come soon."
Elaine stopped licking for a moment, but continued to work his throbbing penis with her hands. Ben was hit suddenly with an intense rush of passion in his loins and he knew he could not control it.
"Jeeze Elaine, I'm going to...." Ben's cock exploded, hot semen shooting over his chest and splashing on Elaine's face. Elaine was startled for a moment and she stared in wonder at the spurting, pulsating penis. Then it was over and Ben let out a sigh which rippled through his relaxing body.
"Sorry, Elaine...." Ben reached up to wipe the drops of come fluid from her face. "I sort of lost control."
Elaine smiled. "That's okay, honey. It just scared me a little." She began to examine his body, running her fingertips over his sensitive, shriveled cock and sperm-covered pubic hair and chest. She kissed his nipples and licked at the remains of the sticky come juice.
"Let's take a shower, baby." Elaine stretched her body out next to Ben and hugged him tightly. He kissed her one last time, before they got up to wash the love fluids from their bodies.
Suddenly it was a few years later and Elaine realized that she was sitting at a restaurant table, removed in time and space from her tender teenage lover. She felt a throbbing between her legs. God! She'd made herself so hot that if she wasn't careful, she was liable to come right there in front of everybody. She got up quickly and made her way to the ladies' room.
She ran into the plush restroom and to her dismay, there was another woman applying makeup at the gold-fixtured sink. The woman turned around and Elaine was face-to-face with this svelte, chicly dressed female. Elaine, flushed with sexual arousal and frustration, headed for the door.
"Elaine ... Elaine O'Neal, isn't it?" The woman smiled at her questioningly. "I've always enjoyed your pictures."
"Thank you. Thank you very much," Elaine said haltingly as she moved toward the door again. The woman stopped her, though, by boldly putting her hand on Elaine's shoulder.
"You look a little over-excited, Elaine. Is something wrong?"
Elaine looked down nervously, trying to regain control of herself.
"You're a very lovely woman."
"That's very kind...." Elaine turned to face the stranger. "Please excuse me, miss." Elaine moved to leave again, but the woman put both hands on her shoulders. Elaine looked up at her, scared and still hot with the flush of sexual excitement.
"Maybe I can help you." The woman looked deeply into her eyes and Elaine could feel her gaze penetrating into her crotch. She moved Elaine gently but firmly into a corner, Elaine resisting slightly.
"What do you think you're doing?" Elaine asked her weakly.
The stranger pressed her crotch into Elaine's and a tingle ran through both of them.
"You're so beautiful...." The woman touched Elaine's face, gently rubbing the skin and brushing the outline of her mouth.
"Please don't...." Elaine protested weakly, under the power now of her hot, throbbing loins and this troubling attraction to the woman playing with her emotions. She allowed her lips to meet the other's and imagined herself falling into an abyss. Their tongues lashed inside their mouths and the woman reached into her dress to play with her breasts. She was too scared to touch the woman, but she managed to press into her swaying hips, which were grinding and grinding into her own burning cunt, getting wetter and wetter.
Elaine suddenly realized that anyone could come into the room and find her in this compromising position.
"Shouldn't we lock the door or something?" she was able to blurt out.
"It's more fun like this," the woman smiled and bent her head to Elaine's chest. "You've got lovely tits, Miss Elaine."
Elaine's body suddenly got tense. What was she doing here? What would her husband do to her if he could see her like this? Shamed and confused, she tried to pull away. But it was too late. The stranger had worked her hand under Elaine's dress and was massaging her moistened crotch through her pantyhose.
"You're so wet!" The woman purred as she rubbed Elaine. "What's going on down there, honey?" she teased. The woman lifted the elastic of the pantyhose and slid her hand into Elaine's soaking panties. Elaine squirmed and moaned and felt herself drifting back to the edge of the precipice. Her loins were throbbing so hard, she was getting dizzy. She felt the woman lift the elastic on her panties and start to reach inside to her lubricating cunt.
Suddenly they heard footsteps approaching the ladies' room. The stranger withdrew her hand quickly and she and Elaine hurriedly arranged their clothing, just before another woman entered the room. She went immediately to a stall, none the wiser.
Elaine walked over to the sink and splashed her face with cold water. Maybe she could forget what had just happened. What if they hadn't heard the other woman approaching!?
The strange woman thrust a scrap of paper into Elaine's hand with a phone number on it. "Ask for Pauline!" the woman said and swept regally through the door.
Elaine examined the piece of paper as she sat in her car a few minutes later. "I don't believe it," she said to herself. She dropped the phone number back into her purse and started the car. As she swung out of the parking lot, she tried to put the whole incident out of her mind. But as she headed for the first salon showing, the woman's touch and the softness of her lips weighed heavily in Elaine's mind.
CHAPTER THREE
Elaine attended showings at only two salons before she returned home early, sick at heart and seething with rage and frustration. She had been informed so very tactfully and with perfect diplomacy that her charge accounts were closed. Cash payments were now the order of the day. "I'm sure you will understand, Mrs. Westlake ... but Mr. Westlake...."
She understood, all right. Kirk had cut her off, but why hadn't he the decency to tell her himself? It had been embarrassing, humiliating and degrading for her, especially in the shops where she was quite well known.
Going directly to her bedroom, thankful that her stepson, Peter, didn't seem to be around, she stripped herself naked and drew a hot bath. She soaked and luxuriated in the bubble bath, washing away her aches and cares. Not really knowing what to expect when her husband came home, she needed this time for herself. There was bound to be a confrontation. It would probably be ugly. In the short space she had been married to Kirk Westlake, she had learned much about him, but on reflection, she had to admit, she didn't really know him.
With a detachment the relaxing bath provided, Elaine recalled how she had met her husband. She had been captured by the silver screen, by the magic and glamour of the people who inhabited the never-never land of Hollywood. She knew someday that life would be hers, too. Everything she did was aimed at only one thing. She, too, would be a rich and famous movie star, a sex goddess in that almost unattainable Olympus where the legends and myths were manufactured.
It had not been easy. Literally, she clawed her way upwards. Entering beauty contests of every sort, she learned how to use her body and face to best advantage, and along the way she defended herself from those who wanted to take advantage of her. More than once she had to keep some sex-hungry beauty contest manager at bay. She knew she could have done it differently; other girls of her acquaintance had gone that route ... on their backs, but Elaine decided that would not be her way. Did she find success? Yes, she did. She won two contests fair and square. She was noticed. She got some small acting parts. Finally, she was signed for a supporting role, which she handled adequately. She was known-not famous or rich-but she was somebody in Hollywood. Then came her big chance. She was signed to a starring role. Kirk Westlake was her director, and the whole world was her cup of tea ... for a few months.
Kirk Westlake, director, man-of-the-world, European-born, was like no man Elaine had ever met. It was a thrill for her each and every day that she worked for him. His sure and skillful direction brought out the best in her. The result was well worthwhile. The picture received good notices and good box office returns.
During the course of making the picture, Elaine accepted several dates with Westlake. His manners were beyond question. He wooed her in true European style. Finally, he asked for her hand in marriage, and Elaine knew that her world was complete. What more could she ask for from life?
Little did she know what life had in store for her as wife to Kirk Westlake. She embarked upon her married life buoyant and full of hope.
Fortunately, she was flexible, for she soon learned how far she had to bend. Without this flexibility, she would be broken and ruined both physically and mentally.
As she soaked in the tub, her mind wandered, and she found herself thinking, again, about her wedding night. She wondered now whether or not it had been worth the trouble. Morbidly, she reflected on it. Kirk Westlake was a beast!
Elaine had a beautiful wedding. She made careful preparations and planned every detail of it. Everything had gone off beautifully. Soon after the wedding reception, Kirk whisked her away, driving rapidly into the mountains where he had rented a secluded cabin for their honeymoon. Her heart was set on a South American cruise, but Kirk had ruled otherwise. He wanted to be alone with her. There would be too many people on a cruise ship. And so it was that Elaine's wedding night, a night she would always remember, was spent in a remote mountain cabin.
Kirk had already consumed several drinks during the reception. After unpacking, he nursed a tall highball, standing stockily near the fireplace and watching Elaine narrowly as she moved about arranging things to her satisfaction.
"It is time," he pronounced, finally, "to get into bed and consummate our marriage!" He spoke thickly with a slight Italian accent. Elaine had wondered about his manner of speech, and before they were married, he confided to her that he had changed his name for professional reasons; however, he did not tell her what his name had been before the change.
"All right, darling ... just as soon as I arrange my clothes in the closet," Elaine answered.
"I mean ... now!" he snapped.
Elaine looked up quickly, saw the look that accompanied his words, and decided that she had best drop what she was doing and attend to her marital obligations. She knew there would be sex. That was part of being married. For that she was prepared. She wanted desperately to be a good wife.
"Yes, of course, Kirk darling ... if you insist...."
Louder now, with more authority, he said, "I do insist! One thing you must understand clearly for once and for all ... I am the head of my household! What I say is law!"
This authoritative side of her husband had been revealed to her earlier, when they had been working on the picture together, but she was somewhat surprised that he found it necessary to say it to her this bluntly ... on their wedding night.
"The man is always ... is expected to lead ... isn't he?"
"Yes! I just want to make sure you understand that!"
"I understand, darling," she said sweetly.
"Then get into bed!" he roared. "I'm going to deflower you!"
"De-de-flower ... m-me?" she stuttered. "W-what do you mean?"
"Oh, that is from the old country," he said. "Here they call it getting the cherry, I believe," he grinned.
Elaine turned away in embarrassment, her cheeks flushing. She knew she was still virgin ... the memory of that night with Ben tingled through her.
"I'll change into my nightgown ... in the bathroom," she said, picking up the garment.
Slamming the highball glass down, he reached her in two quick strides. He pushed his livid face, the anger flashing in his eyes, down next to her own blushing countenance. She realized instantly that he was drunker than she had thought he was. His mouth worked, roaring and sputtering into her face. "No! Goddammit! Strip! I'm going to take you right now!"
Unconsciously, she began to back away from him; she was shocked and frightened by his sudden anger, the authoritative manner, and the vulgar way he was talking.
The backs of her knees touched the edge of the bed, but she kept her balance. Kirk stood close to her, his voice softer now, but more deadly. "You are my wife now! You will do as I say! There will be no arguments!"
His hand shot out, a short, punishing, open-handed slap to the side of her face. She fell, sprawling back on the bed, a gasp of pain and disbelief escaping her twisted lips.
"Oooooooh! Kirk!"
Then, she saw him stagger toward her, his hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Her breath caught in her throat, and in confused panic, she swung herself to the opposite side of the bed, gained her feet and dashed blindly for the door. She grabbed the knob and pulled frantically. It was locked! Kirk's hard laugh behind her caused her to swing back to face him. He grinned lewdly at her, his tongue darting out to wet his full, sensuous lips.
"Even if you could get out ... where would you go?" he gloated thickly. His eyes blazed. "Strip, I said! Make yourself naked!"
Faltering with fear, she pleaded, "K-Kirk ... please, Kirk ... not this way ... can't you give some time ... t-to...?"
"Get your clothes off!" And then he mouthed an obscene word.
"Oh, my God!" she gasped, repulsed at the sound of the vulgarity. Then, she could only watch, petrified and fascinated, while her dear husband of only a few hours began to remove his clothes. It suddenly became clear to her that this man was not the same man she had married. There must be some horrible mistake! Could she have unwittingly become involved with some horrible monster-a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? Oh, God!
At last he stood block-like before her, his thick, stocky body nudely licentious. She didn't want to look, but inexorably her eyes were drawn back.
"You do find it fascinating ... don't you my dear?" he leered, obviously relishing the shameful torment he was inflicting on her. "I would be willing to bet that you had no idea your darling husband was this well endowed!"
"P-please ... is it ... n-necessary t-to...?"
He laughed lewdly. "Yes! Just wait-you will fully appreciate it in a few minutes!" Moving toward her, giving the impression of a stalking beast of prey ... or a hunting dog on the point, he went on with his debasing monologue. "I will tell you one thing ... more than one little bitch has begged for mercy before I got through with her!"
"Ugh!" Her cry of revulsion tore from her lips.
Westlake started to laugh, then caught himself. He had a new thought. "You are a virgin, aren't you?" His eyes narrowed menacingly. "You had better be!"
"There's n-never been anybody ... e-else...." she faltered.
"And another thing you must know about me," he croaked. "Never lie to me ... ever!"
Tears began to spill over her eyelids and run down her cheeks. She felt so much on the defensive, and now this, this doubt in her husband's mind about her virginity. She could stand no more.
"Stop it! Stop tormenting me!" she shouted at him, her face paling now with the fury she felt.
He watched the change in her, as her face contorted with anger and repugnance, but he went on with his torment, advancing steadily on her. "Very pretty, my dear! Why couldn't I get a performance like this while we were shooting on location?"
Elaine's hypnotized eyes followed his advance. My God! She was terrified of the massive instrument of his manhood ... it would tear her apart!
"D-don't you dare come any closer, Kirk! Don't touch me!" she blurted, the loathing and fear searing her mind and viscera equally.
But she knew words were meaningless and futile. Her husband was going to take her helpless, virginal body no matter how she pleaded with him or begged him for mercy. She was going to be raped! Oh, God! This wasn't the way she wanted it to be ... for the very first time! She had saved it ... fought to save it ... for all those years ... for this! Saved it only to be raped on her wedding night! The irony of it was not entirely wasted on her. But worse ... Dear God! He had a right to take her! It couldn't really be called rape. Were husbands ever taken to court for wedding-night rape? She knew the answer. It was a resounding NO!
"Well, are you going to do as I say ... strip off your clothes ... or do I remove them ... in shreds?"
Elaine stood there completely helpless, defenseless, petrified with terror and shock, until he reached out for her, jerking her body into his broad, hairy chest, a strong hand going behind her head, holding it rigid while his wet, sensuous lips covered hers tightly with his tongue lashing deep into her mouth. She was conscious of the burning heat of his maleness even through the layers of her clothing. She did not resist him. After all, if this was the way it was to be....
He stepped back to gaze at her admiringly, while Elaine closed her eyes and stood with chin held high, desperately trying to control the tears that flooded her eyes. She swayed, nearly losing her balance. There was nothing left to her but shame!
"You are a truly luscious sight!" he gasped, the Italian blasphemy ripping from him as he pulled her against his lustful nakedness, crushing her softness flat against his hard, muscular chest, his broad, blunt hands slipping behind her to pull her hips tightly into him.
"You are all I thought you would be! Now, I am truly sorry that we did not shoot that scene in the nude. I was jealous of that leading man! God! How I wanted you ... each time that you were in his arms! I wanted to throw you to the ground ... and take you right there! Just spread those beautiful long legs of yours right there!"
"Oh, God!" she moaned, almost incoherent, as she rested her face on his, unable to comprehend the rising eroticism his passionate yet obscene description engendered in her.
She was allowed only a fleeting hint of this arousal. Suddenly, he caught her hair, jerked her head back and his questing mouth found hers. His tongue burst into her mouth while a clawed hand clutched and kneaded the soft parts of her body without mercy. The pinching and twisting quenched the fleeting sexual thirst of the moment before. Now, there was only pain.
She whimpered against his lips, her eyes flooding with the tears of her shame and humiliation ... and there was the deception of this man who was now her husband ... he, who had been so gentle and gentlemanly and who now was acting so beastly ... almost animalistic in his approach to her. Her romantic ideas of married love had already been shattered. Also, there was the dread, the very present fear in her of that moment-not very far off now-when he would take her virginity.
It was a wonder, after treatment like that, that Elaine didn't hate men completely. She wondered sadly if it would have been different if she and Ben had had intercourse. It was too painful to think about it, and besides, she was married to Kirk, now.
The joys of the marriage bed. What a lie! How would he have liked a wedding night of terror and torment! Elaine slipped down into the warmth of her bath and let her lascivious thoughts wander....
"How's my little virgin bride?" Kirk chuckled wickedly, pouring himself another glass of champagne.
"Hey, I wouldn't mind some of that," Elaine frowned in annoyance at his boorishness.
"You're going to get plenty of that stuff later on. I've been saving it for you." Kirk reached for her and pulled her close to him. "I'm your master now, Elaine. You will get things when I want you to have them."
"Shall we go to bed now, darling?" Elaine queried him sweetly.
"I want you right now, here on the floor." Kirk began to pull at the delicate fastenings of Elaine's lace wedding gown, but she resisted, frightened by the violence that was rising in him like a stiffening cock.
"Please, Kirk. Can't we go a little slower?" Elaine tried to push him away gently.
"I said I wanted you now, bitch!" He pulled hard at the dress and it finally gave way. Elaine shuddered in horror at the torn dress hanging limply around her shoulders.
"Kirk, please don't be like this. It's our wedding night," Elaine pleaded.
In seconds, the dress was in shreds. Kirk flew at her in a rage, yanking the delicate white lace and satin from her body. Elaine began to weep as Kirk wrestled her to the floor. But then the anger rose from somewhere deep within her, and she saw herself reach for the champagne bottle and bash Kirk over the head with it. Instantly, he was out cold.
"I've got to work fast," she told herself. Swiftly, she wrenched off his tuxedo, shirt, slacks, everything, down to his socks and undershorts. When she couldn't remove something easily, she ripped it off, as he had with her wedding dress. She dragged him to the bed and stood over him in her white satin underclothes.
"I hope you want it now, Kirk, darling, because you are certainly going to get some loving tonight." Elaine tied Kirk's hands and feet to the four corner posts of the bed, fashioning his bonds with strips of the wedding dress he destroyed.
"Wake up, sweetheart." Elaine doused her new husband with his unfinished glass of champagne and waited for him to open his eyes.
"Ohhh...." Kirk moaned in pain as he awoke with a sore head to find himself a captive to his new wife. Elaine smiled at him evilly.
"Elaine, what are you doing?" Kirk said looking at her dizzily.
"You wanted to get your rocks off, didn't you?" Elaine checked the knots holding Kirk down to make sure they were secure. "Now we're going to do it when I want to!" Elaine pulled one of the bindings to emphasize her point. She slipped out of her lacy underthings and knelt next to him on the bed.
"You're next." Elaine started to pull off Kirk's underwear, but quickly realized that she wouldn't be able to slip it off all the way, because of the bindings. "If you're really good, I'll untie your feet. I want you completely naked."
"Yeah, untie me, you bitch," Kirk barked under his breath.
"Watch it, buster, I haven't even started with you." Elaine began to untie the bindings on Kirk's feet. But Kirk, calling on his reserves of strength, worked himself out of the other bindings and overpowered her.
"Kirk, no!" Elaine screamed. Kirk flattened her on the bed, crushing her with the weight of his body.
"You're going to pay for your little tantrum, my dear!" As Elaine struggled underneath him, Kirk roughly pulled at her breasts and forced his mouth over hers, jamming his tongue between her lips.
"Kirk, please, I'm sorry!"
"You certainly are, bitch!" Kirk slid his mouth down to her creamy tits, sucking hard on the juicy, pink nipples.
"Ooo, please stop this, Kirk," Elaine pleaded. She squirmed and wriggled, but could not wrench herself free.
Elaine felt his thick cock swell and press into her belly. Then his hand was between her thighs, rubbing and poking and probing and forcing his fingers into her dry, tight cunt.
"I want you wet, my little virgin, so I can ram you silly!" Kirk growled at her.
Then she felt his mouth on her. He licked and bit her thighs, then moved up her body.
He sucked on her clitoris and pulled on her labia with his teeth. Just as she was starting to enjoy herself, she felt his crotch on her face, the rough pubic hair scratching her delicate skin.
"Take this in your mouth or I'll force it down your throat!"
Elaine did as she was told. She tried to think of Ben and that afternoon at his parents' house, when his big, fat, juicy cock had tasted so good!
She made herself suck on her husband's throbbing penis, but he kept pushing it further and further into her throat.
"OHHH YES!" Kirk moaned in delight. He pumped his swollen cock in and out, deeper and deeper, and Elaine put her lips around it, licking and sucking, licking and sucking.
"Take it! Take it!" Kirk whined.
Elaine tried not to think. She gagged and felt as if her throat were being ripped apart by the huge steel organ. It seemed to swell bigger and bigger with each insertion. It occurred to her suddenly that she'd probably choke on the thick flood of semen that he'd spurt down her throat. And he was sooo close to coming!
But apparently, Kirk Westlake had no intention of coming in her mouth. At least not that night....
"Now, we will fuck!" Kirk informed her breathlessly as he pulled his swollen cock from her mouth. He worked his fingers between her thighs again, trying to make her cunt wet enough so that insertion would be easier.
"Please Kirk, wait till I'm ready!" Elaine pleaded with him. She tried to think of Ben and the way he touched her sexually. He treated her cunt like another mouth, and when he went down on her, it was as if he were kissing her. Then he would move his fingers firmly but gently inside of her, stroking her clitoris and carefully massaging her till she came in a glorious wave.
"It is time, my love!" Kirk leaned his body into hers and guided his penis into her moistened vagina. Elaine was thankful that her memories of Ben had helped to get her wet.
"OHHH!" Kirk moaned as his thick organ penetrated deeper and deeper inside the soft, oozing walls.
"Please, Kirk, you're hurting me!" Elaine wailed softly. But of course, he could not be bothered with her pain or pleasure. He reached his own tumultuous climax at her expense and collapsed in complete exhaustion on top of her.
Elaine stirred in the now chilly water of her bath, coming slowly back to the reality of the present. Her husband was just as cruel in her fantasies as he was in real life. And even in her fantasies, he was incapable of satisfying her.
That was her secret. Kirk Westlake would never know, she vowed as she rose from the tub, stepped into the shower and finished her bath. Yes, she mused, he would never know that he had never satisfied her sexually, but she had found a way; her satisfaction was never farther away than her own hand!
CHAPTER FOUR
Refreshed from her bath, Elaine languidly dried herself, enjoying the narcissistic sensations she could create in her own body. Then she combed out her hair, applied light makeup and lay down on her bed, nude, to take an afternoon nap. She wanted to be ready for whatever transpired when her husband arrived home. Experience told her that it would be better to be rested. Her coming ordeal could be ugly ... and it might last for a long time. Additionally, she knew it would end in the same way: her husband would have his way, sexually, with her. This she knew for certain!
While she rested, Peter Westlake sat cross-legged in the middle of his rumpled bed.
Morosely, he considered the glowing ash of the marijuana cigarette he held carefully between thumb and forefinger, the burning end turned in toward the palm of his hand. He was just beginning to get the effects of it ... the sensation of floating, not caring ... of time standing still ... of more acute awareness, the ability to think with an uncluttered mind. To a casual observer, he would look serene and zonked out, but inwardly, he seethed with half-formed images ... images that all involved his lovely young stepmother. She was a fantasy lover, the perfect woman, earth-mother and Aphrodite all rolled into one package named Elaine.
"Groovy!" he said, speaking only to himself. "Groovy...." He summoned up the vision of Elaine, her nylon-clad legs climbing the stairs when she had come home that same afternoon. He had peeped at her from hiding. It was all he could do ... then. God! How he had wanted to conjure up the courage to follow her to her room ... make love to her ... force her, if necessary!
"Groovy, man! Groovy!" he said, again, to himself as his souped-up imagination led to the explicit details of what he would like to do to Elaine Westlake, his stepmother, as he took long drags on the cigarette.
The afternoon wore on, waned, and it was evening. He heard his father arrive ... heard all that went on in the room above him later that evening and in the small hours of the morning. When he finally dropped off to sleep, he had formulated his plan, the plan that would get him everything he wanted ... everything he had ever wanted in this world!
Below, out in the garden, another man thought about Elaine. His fantasies were based on hopelessness, the unreality of a gardener's hopes in regard to her golden-blonde loveliness. Surreptitiously, he allowed his eyes to wander to the French windows where he had spied upon her that morning. He knew it would be too much of a risk to climb to that vantage point again, especially with young Westlake about the premises. He was pretty sure where the boy was in the house, but he couldn't take a chance that he would stay put.
Finally, overcome by a perverse and persistent longing to see her again, he decided to scout out the situation. He had never tried the gambit in the afternoon; usually, as now, there were too many people around. Mid-morning, just after Elaine arose, he had discovered, was really the best time to indulge his voyeurism.
Walking casually around the large old mansion, ostensibly carrying out his duties as gardener, Jack Chavez peered into windows until he found what he was looking for: Peter Westlake in his own narcotic dream world, stoned on grass, stark naked, sprawled in the middle of his bed.
"Jesus," the Mexican said softly to himself, "the little bastard is zonked out on maryjane!"
He was certainly nothing to worry about, he decided. The kid sure as hell couldn't function in that condition!
Jack hadn't checked the Timex on his wrist, or he would have known his plan was ill-timed. With deliberate ease he moved around the house to the trellis, carrying his clippers carelessly. He had just begun to climb when he heard the high-powered whine of the engine and the crunch of tires on gravel as Kirk Westlake entered the long driveway.
"Damn!" he spat, aloud this time. "The boss is coming!"
Moving with deliberate slowness, he moved off around the house, heading for the greenhouse, where he put his tools away, locked up, got into his ancient pickup truck and drove home ... home to his dinky little shack, a couple of beers and an evening of television on his beat-up old set.
As he headed off into traffic, he didn't feel particularly perturbed. Hell! There was always tomorrow. "Tomorrow," he told himself, "I'll get me another look at her! That's some woman!"
Kirk Westlake's thoughts also were on Elaine, as he drove along the freeway toward his home. He intended to make her into a very contrite young woman! Several times he had warned her about the mounting expenses for her clothing. It wasn't that he couldn't afford it; he could, and many times over. Rather, it was a matter of principle. He spoke, and he expected to be obeyed, without question; therefore, since Elaine had disobeyed, she must be brought to task, and he had to admit to himself that he rather enjoyed his role as taskmaster. In the end, he would have his way with his wife, as always, and tonight he had a particularly piquant notion as to how he would take her. Christ! It made him hot just thinking about it!
Of course, Westlake had never told his wife how much money he made. That was purely his own business ... and it was developing into a good business. It was almost foolproof ... and to think he was carrying it out right under their very noses!
Pauline Riggs sighed as she finished posting the day's accounts. She hated this chore, but it was one of the small disadvantages she endured as manager of the exclusive dress shop. The advantages, for her, far outweighed these small inconveniences, especially in view of the new arrangements she had just completed. On the surface, at least, it was a workable idea: after it had been thoroughly explained to her, she had been wholeheartedly involved, and now that the plan had been in operation for about three months, affording her ample opportunity to fully realize the potential involved, she was an enthusiastic operator.
The best part of the whole thing was that Pauline got first crack at them, the lovely, unsuspecting things falling into her trap so easily where she could pluck them for herself, almost at will. There were five of them, now ... and the sixth, the most breathtakingly lovely of them all, was soon going to be hers. The only question in her own mind was whether she could pull this one off so circumspectly that the husband would never suspect. Things could blow wide open if Kirk Westlake ever found out that she had lesbian designs on his wife.
Elaine Westlake had not called her; no matter, she hadn't really expected that she would. Her approach had been much too direct, but she hadn't wanted to let the chance escape her there in the restaurant lounge.
Sometimes, the indirect approach was better. She reached for the special engraved forms she had ready and addressed the envelope in her own somewhat bold handwriting.
CHAPTER FIVE
The afternoon mail the following day brought Elaine an intriguing invitation: "The Continental features private showings and fittings...." But of most interest was a line on the engraved card. It stated that personal accounts were available and were held in strictest confidence. What did it mean? Would she be able to open an account there in her own name without Kirk ever finding out about it?
It had been true. Her husband had cut off all of her charge accounts. In place of these, he had opened a personal checking account for her, depositing an initial thousand dollars with a promise to her that if she could manage it wisely, he would deposit a thousand each month.
This money was intended to take care of all her wants. The needs of the household were to be handled separately. Needless to say, Elaine had been less than overjoyed when she had agreed to the arrangement. Now, this invitation from a shop-although it was one she knew little about-seemed a godsend, especially if she could open her own account and pay for it once a month with her own checking account. It certainly would simplify things for her; she didn't have a head for figures and keeping a checkbook straight had always been a big bore for her.
The following day, Elaine drove across town to visit the Continental. It was just to look, she assured herself ... perhaps to buy, only if she were satisfied that quality and style were up to her own tasteful standards. Surprisingly, she found all to her satisfaction, and she bought a chic suit at what she considered a fair price.
Then there were the necessary arrangements to be made concerning payment. She was ushered into the office of the manager, Mrs. Pauline Riggs, as a small plate on the door stated. Elaine walked in confidently, but felt almost like running from the sumptuous office when the woman who came toward her around the desk, smiling a genuine welcome, said, "Please come in, Mrs. Westlake, and welcome to the Continental...."
Involuntarily, Elaine drew back and stifled a gasp, "No!"
"Yes ... I'm Pauline ... Pauline Riggs ... I'm the manager," she said, completely unruffled.
"But ... y-you're...."
"A very lonely woman."
"I didn't call ... I threw the number away...." Elaine breathed.
"I thought as much, but no matter ... come, now ... let us get down to business, the real reason you're here, isn't it?" Pauline placated, changing the subject.
"Yes ... I-I was thinking about opening an account."
"Please, sit down, my dear ... and let's let bygones be just that, bygones ... shall we? I promise you that I'll not mix business ... and pleasure." Her smile was disarming.
Elaine sat down shakily, not sure that she would remain, but the older woman soon had her confidence, making the arrangements for the open account in Elaine's own name. Assured that there would be no further pursuit, Elaine relaxed, finally accepting the woman's open friendliness at face value.
When Elaine left, Pauline Riggs indulged herself in silent mirth. It was now just a matter of time, and she, Pauline, was a very patient woman. She could wait!
Young Peter Westlake, on the following day, began to make a remarkable change in himself. Several months before, the senior West-lake had ordered him to leave; his rebellion against his father's autocratic ways had led him to the non-conformist community of long hair, love beads, sandals and dirty clothing, along with its attendant proclivity for drugs and open sex.
Now he was, ostensibly, setting out to mend these broken fences and relationships. His overtures to his father had been successful. He had agreed-if he were to remain a part of the Westlake household-to get a reasonable haircut, shave his beard, dress with some degree of conformity ... and try to do something constructive with his time. His father's suggestion: enter the fall term at one of the nearby state colleges. To all of this Peter had agreed with some show of contriteness. He was respectful to his father, polite to Elaine ... and miserable as he tried to live the straight, uptight life. All of this he was willing to do; it was a price he had decided to pay in the interest of getting what he wanted. The compromise would last for only a little while. Patiently, he waited for his chance. It wouldn't be long in coming. This he knew for sure!
Meanwhile, he must work on gaining Elaine's confidence. His guile, gift of conversational gambits, and his apparent change worked like a charm, and soon he seemed to fit into the family slot his father had decreed for him.
Elaine was pleased at his change. In a short while she began to accept him, to talk with him ... and to feel a certain warmth and affection for him, and never once did he give her cause for alarm as he had on other occasions when he had made lewd proposals to her. There was a time, not long before, when she had considered telling the boy's father about his attitude and his actions toward her, but then she considered the possible consequences: would her husband believe her or the boy if there were a confrontation? Knowing her husband's jealous nature, the possibility that he might misinterpret the situation, think that she had led the boy on, and provoked him to make the sexual overtures, decided her against such a move.
Now, everything seemed to be stable. She hoped it would remain that way. She was happy as long as she could have what she had now-clothing, a few good parties on their estate, invitations to other good parties at other equally posh estates, a few night-clubbing evenings each month, attendance at some of the more important premieres, her own car, her own checking account, and a famous husband. What more could she want? Of course, had she stopped to consider carefully, she would have discovered the one important ingredient missing from her life. It was love! She had sex ... more than could be handled, at times. Her husband's sexual appetites seemed to be almost boundless ... but love? No! There was no real love in her marriage.
It came as a complete shock to Elaine. She held the boutique bill in her hand as though it were a deadly rattlesnake. Included in the envelope was a short, courteous note signed by Pauline. "Dear Elaine," it said, "Please come in to see me personally about this. Pauline."
Heavens! The bill was for an amount exceeding fifteen hundred dollars! Had she overspent that much? Was there a possibility of a mistake in billing? It couldn't be ... that much! How could she possibly pay it? Why, it amounted to more than a month and a half of her allowance!
The next day she found herself in Pauline's office-they were on a first-name basis at Pauline's insistence-sitting opposite the older woman who was strangely calm about the whole matter.
"Actually, Elaine," Pauline was saying, "you needn't worry too much about this ... but I knew you wouldn't want your husband to learn of it."
"Oh, heavens, no!" Elaine blurted.
"I thought as much...." the manager said, "but maybe there's a way out of this...." She looked thoughtful. "Yes, I think so!"
Elaine grasped at straws, as it were. She really had no idea of how she could handle such a debt. It was totally beyond her. "What do you mean?" she asked eagerly.
"I need another model ... and I think you just might be exactly right for the job!"
"Really?"
"Yes ... that way, you could work off this amount and you'd be free of any worry," Pauline offered.
With a huge sigh of relief, Elaine felt as though a misty burden had been lifted from her shoulders. "Ooooohhhhh! That's wonderful! You're so ... so understanding ... and kind."
"Of course there's the audition."
"Au-audition...?"
"Naturally!" Pauline returned. "I'll have to make sure that you can do the job ... properly."
"Y-yes, I suppose you're right," Elaine conceded, then brightened. "What do you want me to do, for the audition?"
"Well, come along with me upstairs. I have some things up there you can show off for me."
Pauline rose, crossed to the opposite wall, pressed a half-concealed button, and the paneling before them slid back to reveal a small elevator. Motioning Elaine to enter, the older woman followed her into the small cubicle, closed the door, pressed the up button, and they were whisked to the second floor where they entered a lavishly furnished apartment. Elaine glanced around with appreciation, noting the expensive decor.
"How beautiful! I just love it!" Elaine gushed.
"I had it fixed up for when I have to stay over late," Pauline said by way of explanation.
"Oh, then you don't live here?"
"Hardly, my dear. I have my own home out in Brentwood."
"Oh!" Elaine was impressed.
Pauline opened a spacious closet and selected a cocktail dress, a simple sheath. "This should do nicely."
Elaine took the dress from her and glanced around questioningly as she held the dress up to her.
"You can change in there," Pauline indicated a closed bedroom door.
For the next half-hour, Pauline put Elaine through the paces, explaining patiently to her what she wanted from her models. Elaine learned fast, mimicking the older woman's examples to the letter. Her experience in beauty contests and later in movie work stood her in good stead, and Elaine of course was an apt pupil, especially when it came to wearing good clothing well.
Everything had been on a purely business-like basis, but suddenly, the mood was shattered. Elaine had changed into three different outfits: she now wore a fluffy nothing of a mini-dress. Each time, she had changed in the privacy of the ultra-feminine bedroom, but now she was startled by Pauline's imperious command, "You can take it off now, my dear! Take it all off!"
"I-I don't understand. Wh-what do you mean?"
"You'll be modeling some swimsuits ... I want to see your figure." Pauline said.
"Oh." The flush that had begun on Elaine's face receded. "Of course ... Pauline ... do you have a swimsuit for me to put on?"
Silently, Pauline handed her one of the new peek-a-boo models. Elaine took it from her and went back into the bedroom. She had just removed the last of her underclothing, slipping her wispy nylon panties down over the swell of her smooth white thighs, when Pauline entered quietly, standing at the half-open door, staring in frank appraisal at the vision of the feminine loveliness before her.
"Perfect, my dear ... just perfect!"
In embarrassed confusion, Elaine reached for a garment on the bed to shield her nakedness, turning involuntarily and shrinking into herself. She emitted an audible gasp of surprise.
"There's no need for the coy little-girl act, Elaine ... after all, I'm a woman, too."
"Y-you startled m-me!" She could feel the warm blush of her face and neck as she experienced a strange feeling of being devoured alive by the older woman's eyes. She shuddered delicately.
Then, the dress was abruptly removed from her hands and she was swung about to face the dress shop manager. The woman's eyes burned hotly into her own.
"You're absolutely ravishing," Pauline breathed, her tongue coming through her lips to move in a slow circular motion of sensuous caress.
Instinctively, Elaine drew back, using hands and arms to retain her innate modesty to shield herself, even from another woman's gaze. "P-please ... Pauline ... I'd like to get dressed now ... if we're through with the audition...."
"The audition is finished ... you'll be good as a model," Pauline affirmed. "But I'm not finished with you!"
"What do y-you want ... with me...?"
"You! Your body ... your love!"
"I-I could never d-do that!"
"You could never do what, my dear? Make love with a woman?"
Elaine turned her head, trying desperately to break the almost hypnotic eye contact with the older woman. "Y-yes...." she whispered, "I'm married ... and my husband...."
"Husbands! Men!" Pauline hissed. "What do they know about love? What do they know about what really turns a woman on?"
"I-I just ... c-couldn't...."
"How do you know, my dear? How will you ever know what real ecstasy is ... until you've tried it ... in the arms of a real woman lover ... a woman who knows all about you, because she's a woman herself?" Pauline reached out and placed a gentle, soft hand on Elaine's breast, allowing her fingers to teasingly trace the swelling contour.
Unaccountably, Elaine felt a sudden, surging warmth begin to pervade her body, seeming to have its epicenter in her abdomen, its tingling sensations signing a prelude to forbidden pleasures, but her brain, the seat of reason, censored the lubricious, sexually oriented signals, telling her: No! Get away! There is danger here.
She swept the tantalizing hand away. "No! It's getting late! I-I must go home ... my-my hus...."
"Screw your husband!" Pauline spat, her lips twisted with obvious hate.
Elaine had never heard a woman use such an obscenity before. The shock of it sliced through her. She flushed even more crimson. Her lower jaw dropped. Her eyes widened.
Seeing her reaction, Pauline pursued, "I was married at one time ... just as you are now ... and I see myself, all over again, in you ... And what does the beast do for you? I can guess! Not even caring that you might not want it ... whether you're ready or not ... and then he leaves you to worry about the possibility of pregnancy while the son-of-a-bitch goes to sleep ... and you lie there-not having gotten anything out of it ... oh, I know! You call that love? I call it plain animal!"
Shocking truth stared Elaine in the face. Oh, God! How did Pauline now all of this! It was almost as though the woman was clairvoyant ... or had stood as silent observer at their bedside! The truth was too sharply pointed. It hurt!
Her knees became too weak to support her weight and she sat down suddenly, heavily, on the bed, a wailing sob of despair wracking her body as quick, hot tears trickled down her cheeks. Soft, female arms were around her, and Pauline's voice came to her through the pounding in her head.
"It's all right, baby ... it's all right ... it'll be good for you ... cry it all away...." the older woman crooned, holding the girl in her arms and rocking back and forth.
Elaine turned away, crawling off to be alone, curling herself into a fetal ball in the middle of the huge bed, her head cradled in her arms, as the huge sobs born of frustration, heartbreak and shame tore through her supple body.
Pauline hesitated but a moment. She knew that now was the time, the time to offer the heartbroken girl the something special that only she could provide at that moment. She smiled sardonically to herself. It had been even easier than she had anticipated. The poor girl had been more ready, more receptive than any she had seduced before! God! She was hot! It had been all she could do to control herself, allow herself to keep on talking when she had wanted direct action ... but words, she told herself, had paid off ... again. Without undue haste, she began to remove her own clothing, standing at last to remove the black panties over the svelte contours of her hips and thighs.
She ran her fingers across her own slightly upturned breasts and felt a tingle from her twitching clitoris that shot through her entire body.
Elaine kept her eyes on the sensuous curves of Pauline's body. Yes, she was scared and couldn't believe that this was happening to her, but she remembered the intensity of their previous encounter.
Pauline slipped into bed next to her and stretched out her lovely limbs languorously. Then, almost immediately, she ran her groping hands over Elaine's tense and naked form, tracing her face and form before moving in on her quivering breasts and hungry cunt.
Elaine lay still until she felt the wetness of Pauline's tongue moving over her belly.
"I'm a cat woman!" Pauline teased and Elaine was able to smile at her.
"I'm scared," Elaine admitted quietly and Pauline looked at her lovingly.
"Relax darling and let it all flow through you."
Elaine settled into the bed and as Pauline's licking resumed, she found that she could indeed let go of her inhibitions.
Pauline's lapping tongue slid up Elaine's belly to her firm, plump, sumptuous breasts.
"Ouch!" Elaine exclaimed, startled by Pauline's hungry lips and teeth on her tender nipples.
"Just remember, my love, that sometimes pleasure and pain are one," Pauline told her gently as she sucked and sucked on Elaine's beautiful breasts.
Elaine could feel the sensations of desire running all through her and she squirmed eagerly under Pauline's touch.
Pauline's strong lips moved from Elaine's hard, aroused nipples to her open mouth. Pauline pressed their lips together gently and softly kissed Elaine's face. But her tongue was hot and it was not long before she plunged it deeper and deeper into Elaine's salivating mouth. The two women were almost one and Pauline stretched herself over Elaine's wriggling body as a man would.
"MMM! Oh God!" Elaine slobbered out as Pauline rubbed their crotches together.
"I wish I had an enormous cock to ram into you right now," Pauline told her, "But I've got something better." Pauline reached into a nightstand by the bed and pulled out an exceptionally large blue-veined dildo, with a mean-looking head.
"We'll save this for later," Pauline told her, and Elaine was a little shaken.
The two women kissed hotly and Pauline's mouth once again began to roam down Elaine's body. She kissed her neck and shoulders, alternating the kisses with tender little love bites. Elaine squealed in delight. The further things went, the easier it was for Elaine. Pauline may have been sure of herself, but everything was new for Elaine. But, she was willing to experiment with her eager partner and she began to explore Pauline's body as Pauline continued to lick and suck her own. She placed her hands on Pauline's breasts and fondled them gently. She put her hands around Pauline's waist and moved them down to her soft buttocks. Then, to Pauline's surprise, she reached under her asshole and between her legs to the juicy cunt that was peeking through.
"Oooo, that feels good!" Pauline squealed.
"I can feel you starting to get wet," Elaine said matter-of-factly.
"That's my love lubrication!" Pauline told her. She relaxed on the bed, pleased that Elaine was getting into the spirit of things.
Elaine tentatively inserted her second and middle finger into Pauline's moistened vagina. She felt Pauline's inner muscle tensing around them. She withdrew them slowly, then stuck them back in again.
"God, Elaine, you're making me crazy!" Pauline let out a sigh and wiggled her ass.
"Am I doing this right?" Elaine asked her sweetly.
"Oooo yes, yes!" Pauline moaned to her.
Elaine tried sticking three fingers into the dripping cunt and massaging Pauline's twitching clitoris at the same time.
"Do it! Yes!" Pauline screamed.
Elaine rubbed her vulva with increasing intensity. Each time she reached the clit, her hand brushed the damp pubic hair.
"Put more fingers in!" Pauline directed her.
"I don't want to hurt you," Elaine told her, worried that Pauline's vagina was not yet dilated enough to handle them.
"Stick them in, baby!"
Elaine gently pushed three fingers into Pauline's hungry cunt and it was as if they were swallowed alive.
"That ... feels ... sooo ... good!" Pauline moaned on her way to ecstasy.
"Are you going to come?" Elaine asked her teasingly.
"Ohhhh!...." Pauline sighed in reply.
Elaine continued to insert her fingers and massage the blood-engorged vulva, until finally, she could put her whole hand into Elaine.
"Oh God! I can't stand it!" Pauline wailed.
"Do you want me to stop?" Elaine asked her playfully.
"Nooo, nooo...." Pauline moaned.
Elaine began to move her fingers in and out of Pauline's aroused vagina, until a rhythm flowed between them. When Elaine went into her, Pauline would lift her swaying hips back around the fingers, flexing and tensing her throbbing walls.
"Oh my God! I think I'm going to come soon!" Pauline screamed.
Elaine worked harder and faster, no longer massaging gently, but rubbing Pauline hard and pushing her whole hand into her.
"Oh my Gooood!!" Pauline felt a surge of sensation take over her body. The tingle that rose in her loins had swelled up to overtake her and she drowned in the delicious rush of orgasm that lapped at her gently and menacingly before swallowing her whole.
Elaine watched in wonder as her new lover twitched and wrenched her body uncontrollably. It made her feel warm and excited, knowing that she had given Pauline so much pleasure.
The two women held each other tightly for a moment, but Elaine's unsatisfied lust made her start to squirm slightly.
"For the next show, my dear, I think I'll eat you out!" Pauline exclaimed to the puzzled Elaine.
"I don't think I'm familiar with that expression," Elaine admitted.
"I guess I'll have to give you a new reading list," Pauline teased her.
"Are you hungry?" Elaine asked her, figuring out the meaning.
"Only for your juicy cunt!" Pauline told her, pinching her on the ass. She brushed her hand along the silky expanse of skin and kissed Elaine deep into her mouth. Their tongues locked playfully around each other and they both sucked as hard as they could, lost in each other's mouth.
Pauline let her mouth drift from Elaine's and ran her tongue down the length of her tantalizing body. She positioned herself between Elaine's legs, conveniently located to a delicious new eating place.
"I'm starved!" Pauline laughingly exclaimed.
"I guess I'm the specialty on the menu today," Elaine teasingly spread her legs. Her womanly fragrance floated in the air as her pink cunt winked at Pauline.
"Mmm ... Yummy, yummy for my tummy." Pauline set to work on the long, lovely thighs, licking and biting them on her way to the main course.
"Would you care for an appetizer?"
"Slurp ... no thanks, I've got my mouth full already!"
Pauline licked her way up to Elaine's labia. She pulled on them gently with her teeth and licked her tongue on the anxious clitoris.
"Enjoying your meal, madam?"
"Never better!" Pauline massaged Elaine's vulva with her tongue.
"Ooo I think you're our best customer!" Elaine cooed.
"And I'm going to get better!" Pauline informed her. She licked her way over the edges of Elaine's moistening cunt and readied her for the plunge. Her tongue slid in greedily, wiggling and slithering through the dark, pink wetness.
"Ooo Pauline," Elaine purred. Pauline's tongue flicked in and out, teasing itself in deeper and deeper. Elaine squirmed and wriggled in delight. Then Pauline was struck with a sudden flash of inspiration. She licked hungrily at Elaine's twitching clit and inserted the fingers of one of her hands into Elaine's vagina. She licked and sucked and pulled on the labia with her teeth and kept her busy little hand finger-fucking Elaine at the same time!
"Oh my God! I'm coming!" Elaine screamed as her body exploded into orgasm. Her body jerked spasmodically and wave after fiery wave of dynamite sensations poured through every nerve ending in her body.
"That was so wonderful," Elaine moaned softly as she floated down from the clouds.
"You're body is sooo receptive," Pauline told her, rubbing her sweating belly gently. "And I've got all kinds of surprises lined up to last us all afternoon."
"I don't know if I can stand any more ecstasy!" Elaine laughed.
"Don't forget Danny the Dildo. He's one of a girl's best friends."
"And so are you," Elaine whispered into Pauline's ear and kissed her face softly.
Pauline reached into her nightstand again and this time, she pulled out a long, phallic-like, ribbed vibrator.
"What is that?" Elaine asked her, a little surprised.
"It's exactly what you think it is," Pauline told her.
"Is it an egg beater?" Elaine asked with a smile.
"No, honey, it's Vinny the Vibrator and he's come to vibrate you!" She turned the vibrator on suddenly, startling Elaine. "I think Vinny likes you!" Pauline turned off the vibrator and strapped it to the back of her hand. Elaine wriggled in expectation.
"And now, my dear, I'm going to give you a nice massage!"
"Only if Danny the Dildo and I can play in your sweet little pussy!" Elaine teased.
"Sounds good to me!" Pauline and Elaine positioned themselves facing each other with their legs spread apart, so both would have easy access to the other's cunt. Elaine tickled Pauline's clitoris with the dildo and Pauline massaged Elaine's stomach with the penis-shaped vibrator. When Elaine inserted the dildo into Pauline's lubricating vagina, Pauline moved the vibrator skillfully downward and set it in Elaine's cervix. The excited women screamed in delight with the sexual toys and it wasn't long before they reached another soaring climax. Completely exhausted, Elaine dressed, repaired her makeup and hair and drove directly home. She had never experienced anything like this and the feelings awakened in her confused her a little.
Time had flown. It was after five in the afternoon when she parked her car in the garage and walked languidly into the house, heading directly for the stairs. Her foot was on the second tread when the telephone rang. She was about to ignore the imperious ringing, but decided against it. It might be Kirk. They were to dine out this evening. Perhaps she would have to meet him, if he had been delayed, at the studio.
She picked up the telephone. It barked at her. "Where in hell have you been?" It was Kirk. "I've been trying to raise you for over twenty minutes!"
"Sorry, darling," she said, perturbed because of his obvious anger. "I was out ... and j-just came in."
"I know! I tried earlier, also!" he gruffed.
Again she murmured, "Sorry ... darling."
"I'm at the airport ... L.A. International. My flight will be leaving in ten minutes. I decided to call you to let you know. I'll return on Monday, in the afternoon."
Her heart soared. She wouldn't have Kirk around the house for the weekend! Almost three whole days without him! The perverse thought startled her. Why should she be glad that her husband would be gone from her! With her new-found knowledge of herself, she knew now she would be able to respond to him ... be a real wife ... a loving wife ... even a sexy one!
"I'm sorry you have to leave on s-such short notice," she lied. Then, efficiently, "Do you have everything you need? Handkerchiefs? Socks?"
"Yes!" he answered, irritated by the mothering. "You know I keep a packed bag at the studio ... for this kind of emergency!"
"Where?"
"On location ... there's some kind of difficulty ... picture they're shooting in Colorado. The director has walked out. They want me to look at it, perhaps take over the rest of the picture. I hear them calling my flight, darling, I must go!" The line went dead as he abruptly hung up.
"Have a good trip," she said absently into the dead phone, her mind working, trying to decide what she would do with her time. Pauline had told her that she would not have to come in to begin her modeling job until Monday. It was now late Friday afternoon! Wonderful! It was just wonderful!
Close behind her, Peter Westlake's voice was loud in her ear. "What gives ... the old man off on a trip, or something?"
She turned, startled. "Y-yes ... he just called. He's off to Colorado, he said."
"Groovy!" the teen-ager remarked to no one in particular. "Groovy...." he repeated.
Elaine agreed. Yes! Groovy! She said it to herself. With a light heart she mounted the stairs to her room, heading for that refreshing bath and a beautiful nap before dinner.
She undressed, feeling the exquisite tiredness engendered by the multiple orgasms she had experienced. The memory of the scene in Pauline's bedroom, fresh with new knowledge of self, loaded with implications of more to come, caused her to feel a flush of rising desire. Putting on a thin wrapper, she strolled to the French windows that looked out on the large expanse of front lawn and garden. There below, on his knees, Jack Chavez labored to remove the stubborn stump of a small tree that West-lake had ordered him to destroy and then replace with a more attractive evergreen,-a Japanese black pine.
The play of sunlight on the brown, sweat-glistening skin, the supple muscles rippling as he worked held her attention. There was a certain beauty, an animalistic magnetism in the flowing movements of the man ... almost, she thought, there was an aura of animal masculinity, of a sexuality exuding from him, a sexuality that she knew would be at the same time savage and sublime. She didn't know how it was she knew it, but it was there in her mind, the knowledge waiting to be tapped.
Turning away, she went into the bathroom to draw her bath. She wondered what kind of lovers they were, Chicanos. The thought intrigued her, but she quickly rejected it. She just couldn't imagine herself in the arms of another man but her husband. A horrible thought ... but of course she had never dreamed that she would ever find herself in the arms of another woman, either!
What was the gardener's name? Chavez, Jack Chavez, she remembered. She never paid much attention to him before. He was just there. He had been merely an adjunct of the estate. Suddenly, he was visible to her. He was a man! He was a beautiful, sexy man! She blushed. She had better banish such thoughts from her mind. Not that she was prejudiced against Mexican-Americans, but he was, after all, their gardener. It was just impossible. That sort of thing was for somebody else ... not for Elaine West-lake. Anyway, she had no intention of being unfaithful to Kirk. At least, she told herself, it would never be with a man. Somehow, in her own mind, it was different with Pauline. What they had done that afternoon together had been ... well, a sort of mutual masturbation. It was not the same as if she had lain with another man in bed. That would have been marital infidelity of the most flagrant sort. She would never do that! Kirk's jealous nature ... and his threat to her ... was enough to give her pause.
Jack Chavez had gotten a fleeting glimpse of Elaine as she turned away from the window. He had noted her late arrival and wondered about it. Of course, it was really none of his business. There was something about her serene countenance that attracted his attention, though. It was the face of a sexually satisfied woman. He was sure that's what it was!
"Damn!" he had muttered to himself. "She's gone and got herself laid ... sure as hell!"
And it couldn't have been her husband. Of that he was sure. There was a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind. Maybe, if she's playing around ... getting it somewhere in the middle of the day, he reasoned ... maybe ... just maybe ... the thought was left half formed.
"Hell! How does a man like me get a woman like her into bed ... unless she's dragged there? There's no way, man. No way!"
His silent soliloquy was interrupted by Peter Westlake, who walked up to where he was working.
"Chavez," he said, "my father just called from the airport ... he's going to be out of town for the weekend. He left a message ... said for you to take tomorrow off."
Jack was confused. "Your dad said for me to grub out this stump...."
"Like forget it! It'll still be there Monday!"
"Is that going to be a day off without pay, or with pay?" Jack asked worriedly.
"You'll get paid, don't worry."
"All right, then ... I'll wait till Monday to finish," the dark gardener assured him.
Peter left the gardener and went into the house. He decided that he could have a little fun with Greta, the Scandinavian housekeeper.
Greta was in her small room off the kitchen, changing into a fresh uniform. She had just completed the heavy cooking and cleaning for the day and planned to finish some of the lighter work. Her uniform had gotten quite soiled and she didn't want her employers to see her like that.
She was a large, raw-boned woman of Scandinavian extraction and indeterminate age. She was, of course, blonde and blue-eyed, and how ever old she was, she wore her years well.
Peter looked around the house and when he couldn't find her, he decided that she must have gone into her room.
"All the better for my little surprise," he said lasciviously to himself. He knocked once on her door and before the half-dressed housekeeper could ask him to wait a minute, he barged right in.
"Listen Greta, my father is going away for a few days, so he won't be needing you this weekend."
Greta clutched at a uniform to cover her slip, flushed with embarrassment at this sudden intrusion.
"Yah ... O.K., I don't come in on Saturday, anyway...." Greta looked away from Peter's lustful gaze. She could feel him following the outline of her curvaceous form, scantily covered by her slip.
"Excuse me, Master Westlake, I was just changing into a fresh uniform," Greta told him politely.
"Maybe I can help you," Peter offered wickedly.
"Please sir, you are embarrassing me," Greta mumbled, praying that he would leave.
"No, really, I would like to be of some assistance." Peter came over to her slowly and took the uniform that Greta was clutching to cover herself with.
"Master Westlake, please," Greta looked away from him.
Peter took Greta's trembling hand and led her to a small cot across the room.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Greta," Peter tried to reassure her. Greta felt him lay her down on the cot. She was scared, too scared to scream or resist him.
"Please sir, I am a widow, with three children," Greta weakly told him.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Peter repeated to her. He reached under her thin slip and removed the cotton panties.
"Please, nooo...." Greta pleaded.
Peter pulled at the fastenings of the heavy bra and finally they gave way. He pulled it out from underneath the slip.
"We'll leave the slip on, okay? I think a little covering makes a woman so much more sexy, don't you?"
"Please, Master Westlake, please...." Greta whined in vain.
Peter hiked the slip up over Greta's hips and pulled roughly at her large breasts. He sucked them loudly, slobbering on her belly. Greta began to whimper.
"Just like Mama used to make," Peter drooled on her. He ran his hand down to her quivering abdomen and lightly stroked her pubic hair. Greta's body tensed.
"Please stop this," she begged him. Peter placed his hand on her vulva, threatening to violate her vagina with his fingers. Greta started to pull away from him.
"Listen sweetheart, don't try anything. I'll just knock you out and fuck you anyway. I'll even tell my father that you seduced me!" Peter laughed hysterically at his own joke. Greta trembled under him, hoping that it would all be over soon.
Peter covered her mouth with his dripping tongue. He forced her to open her lips, then he pushed his tongue inside. Greta wanted to vomit. She could feel the heat and pressure of his hardening cock and she prayed that he would not hurt her. Peter, too, felt his cock start to swell, and keeping his eyes on Greta, he quickly unzipped his pants. Greta closed her eyes tight and waited for the inevitable.
Peter's heavy cock bobbed weightily as it was freed from the confines of his filthy jeans and dingy underwear.
"Sink your teeth into this mother!" Peter bellowed as he proudly played with his aroused penis.
Peter climbed clumsily onto Greta and she felt as if she would barf. His cock wagged against her belly and she knew the worst was yet to happen. Peter stuck his fingers into Greta's tight, tense vagina in an attempt to trigger some lubrication.
"This is going to hurt you more than it is me," he told her cruelly. He pulled Greta's legs apart and guided his penis inside her. He held her down and thrust a few times before he reached a quick and not completely satisfying climax. He withdrew quickly, dripping come on the bed and down his legs. Greta had fainted.
Elaine Westlake awoke with a splitting headache. She remembered Pauline and their delicious lovemaking, but she was home now. Kirk had called her. He would be away for the weekend. She remembered having dinner with Peter ... Why had she sprawled right across the dining room table, powerless to get up and go to her own bed. Had she been drugged? Could it have been Peter? Why? She was confused and sore and everything seemed so foggy. She couldn't seem to get her mind working clearly. Her legs and crotch were still sore from lovely Pauline and her monstrous husband last night. She forced herself to focus on the present. Could Peter have drugged her during dinner? This was crazy! You only see these things in grade B movie thrillers ... or read about them in detective novels. It doesn't happen to people in their own homes. Or does it?
Without opening her eyes, she was aware that she was on her own bed. Strangely, she was nude ... and her arms were held ... her wrists were fastened in some way so that her arms were stretched over her head.
She opened her eyes with an effort and focused them on the face that was leering down at her. Peter! Her instinctive, involuntary scream was stifled even before it was formed in her throat. A hand was clamped cruelly over her half-open mouth.
"Don't scream!" Peter hissed. "If you do, I'll have to put a gag on you! It's up to you!"
Elaine struggled for a moment, found it useless and subsided and lay back on the pillow. She didn't want to be gagged. Maybe ... maybe if she could talk ... she might be able to reason with him. Yes, that was it. She would talk to him, and find out what he intended to do with her ... to her, and, perhaps, try to talk him out of it. The terrifying thought crossed her mind that ... that he was going to rape her. Rape? Oh, God! Not that! Not Peter!
Peter said, "Do you promise not to scream?"
She moved her head up and down in positive affirmation. He took his hand away from her mouth and she expelled a great breath.
"Peter?"
"Yes! Peter! Your own stepson!" he sneered. "Like they say in those old melodramas, oh, hah, now I have you in my power!" He rubbed his hands, mimicking the villain, and made a sneering grimace.
"Peter! Be serious!"
"I am serious!" he barked. "I've never been more serious in my life."
"Stop playing games ... a-and let me go!"
"Not yet!"
"W-what do you want...?"
"You, stepmother, I want you!"
"Wh-what do you m-mean?" she wailed. "Just that! I want you all to myself, your body just for me ... all for me!"
"That would be rape, Peter."
"Oh, smart!"
"You'll be caught ... a-and punished. You'll be put in jail!"
"Maybe!"
"It's insane. S-stop it right now ... and I'll forget about what you've d-done ... not tell your father, or the police!" she bargained.
"No way!" he snapped. "I've already gone this far ... now, I go for broke ... all or nothing!"
Tears started in her eyes. Her position seemed to be absolutely hopeless. She glanced at her right wrist. There was a leather thong on it with a stout rope attached. The rope was tied securely to the bedpost. The other wrist was likewise imprisoned. "Ooohh, my God! My God!" she moaned.
"He won't be able to help you, either," Peter grunted.
"P-please, I beg you...."
"There's already been too much talking, baby! Now, it's time to groove. Like you know, groovy! Man!"
Her stepson was still fully clothed, but now he began to undress himself. Casually, he removed his shirt, undershirt, trousers, shoes, socks, and finally his undershorts. She averted her eyes from the sight of his obscene nakedness.
His eyes had been on her all the time he was undressing, watching her, measuring her reaction.
Elaine's eyes widened. She tried to keep looking away, but his voice commanded her, "Look here, baby! And it's all for you!"
"I-I'll never ... I-let you do it t-to m-me!"
His uproarious laughter filled the bedroom. Between fits of sniggering glee, he told her, "You don't have much choice!" Then, getting himself under control, he went on, "But, just to make sure, I've got a little something for you!"
Producing a paper shopping bag from the floor where he had placed it earlier, he delved into it, showing her a small, tightly-capped bottle. He smiled. "I've been planning this for a long time ... just waiting for the time when my old man was going to be away for a long weekend. Man, this is going to be groovy! You know what's in this bottle?"
Elaine shook her head. "No," she admitted weakly.
"It's an aprodisiac called Dhattura ... from India. There's this friend of mine who was studying pharmacy-until he spaced out from dropping too much acid. Anyway, he found this old formula and mixed it up. He stole the stuff to make it out of his old man's drugstore ... same as he stole the chloral hydrate."
"D-dhattura ... chloral hydrate...?" The words were strange to her.
"Yeah, you know ... the stuff I gave you to knock you out."
Suddenly, at least one thing was clear to her. "I-in my coffee...?"
"Yeah," he affirmed. "And this stuff...." he held up the bottle, "will make you as hot as a mink!"
"Drugs! Do you h-have to do everything ... w-with drugs?"
"No ... but they help!"
He removed the cork from the bottle and came to the side of the bed. Leering down at her, he croaked, "You're going to drink this!"
"No!" she cried, "NOO!"
"Oh, you'd rather be persuaded...." he sat down on the bed. He reached again into the paper bag, searched in the bottom and came up with a small, paper-wrapped package. She knew what it was instantly. A singleedged razor blade. Unwrapping it, he held the flat deadly-sharp thing between his thumb and forefinger. The madness gleamed in his eyes as he leaned toward her. "Where would you suggest I start?"
Horror gripped her. Instant tears started into her eyes as they widened with terror. "Oh, my God! My God ... No!"
The tiny blade in his hand came down toward the mound of her right breast. It touched her skin. He dragged it lightly in a small circle. It was a mere surface scratch, but the blood welled from the inch-long incision, the droplets running down the swelling whiteness as she looked down with the startling realization that he had actually drawn blood ... and that his next move might mutilate her forever. She had never felt so utterly helpless, so defenseless ... so alone and terror-stricken! Oh, God! She didn't want to be cut! The searing pain of it came slashing through her numbed senses. She looked down at the poised blade in his hand. With a deep sigh of resignation, she whispered, "I-I'll drink it."
"Good!" he growled. Then, "That's groovy!" He held the neck of the bottle to her lips. She drank, not caring, not tasting. The vision of possible mutilation was too strong. Ugh!
The thought came to her as she drank the somewhat bitter, fiery liquid that slid easily down her throat: I can't remember. Then it came to her that she had read: There is no known substance that is truly an aphrodisiac. It is only a matter of belief! No matter, then. Whatever it was she was drinking from the bottle, it couldn't possibly have the effect Peter had described. "Like a mink...." he had said. She was consoled by the affirmative words of the magazine article. The liquid would not do anything to her ... except perhaps it might be a slight intoxicant.
Peter held the bottle to her lips until the last drop was drained. He gloated down at her. "Now, we'll just wait awhile ... until it begins to work!"
Boldly, she said, "It'll never work!"
"We'll see, baby! We'll see!"
"I know it won't work. I read an article...."
He laughed. "Don't believe everything you read! I've already experimented with this stuff. I gave some to a sweet young virgin last week...." He stopped, remembering the scene, reliving it in his mind. "She was on her back for eight solid hours. There was a jump line ... she took on about twenty-five guys! I had her five times, myself!"
"Ugh! How horrible!"
"It was groovy, man. Like groovy! She had it every way possible ... and still wanted more."
Now, some doubts began to assail her. Was it possible? Oh, God! She hoped it was not.
Maybe Peter was lying ... telling her these things just to make her believe that the liquid he had forced on her would make her do those things, too! He could be using a sort of psychological persuasion ... and his language ... he was saying those vile things for their salacious effect. That was it! He was only trying to make her believe that he had given her a powerful aphrodisiac.
Again, her stepson rummaged in the shopping bag. This time he came up with a small tin. She recognized it as a container for cough drops. He opened the lid and selected a tightly rolled tube of brown wheat-straw paper. Tearing a match from a matchbook, he carefully lit the homemade cigarette. The pungently sweet smoke drifted to her, and she watched with fascination as he drew the smoke deep into his lungs, holding his breath for several moments before he exhaled.
She knew that it was not tobacco. It must be-God, it had to be-marijuana! He was going to get stoned on marijuana!
He smiled down at her, a tenuous, almost tender smile. "Care for a drag on this joint?"
Elaine grimaced, "God, no!"
"No, I guess you wouldn't ... the Dhattura's enough...."
Languidly, he pulled his legs up and crossed them under him; his eyes closed. He sat upright, silent and immobile.
How long he sat that way, Elaine couldn't estimate. Additionally, she realized, she had no way of knowing how long she had been unconscious ... or how long she had been trussed up on her bed. She twisted her head to look toward the double French windows. The drapes were closed. She could not see out. Straining her hearing sense, she listened for the sounds of traffic on the boulevard. There were only the sounds of cars passing, intermittently, muffled, as from a great distance, and far away she heard the wail of a siren. She decided that it must be well past midnight and that there was a heavy fog lying over the city.
She watched her stepson as he smoked, his eyes closed, his face slack. He held the narcotic cigarette between thumb and forefinger, the burning ash turned in to the palm of his hand, the hand and arm coming slowly up to place the cigarette carefully between his lips. There was the long, slow drag of inhalation, the long, interminable moments of held breath, and finally the slow, controlled exhalation of the grey smoke.
What, she asked herself, was he thinking? What was going on inside this mixed-up boy? And, most of all, she wondered why he was holding her prisoner ... with intentions of raping her? Why? WHY? Her only hope, perhaps, would lie in the possibility of talking him out of it ... but that had been unsuccessful, so far. She shuddered again at the memory of the razor blade and his threat to mutilate her. Looking down, she saw that the wound he had made was closing, the thin line of blood drying to a dark, almost black color. It didn't hurt, now, but she was grateful that it was only a superficial scratch. Had she not agreed to drink that awful stuff, what would he have done? But, what about the liquid in the bottle? Dhattura, he had called it. What if it really was everything he said it was? The graphic image of his description raced through her mind. He said, "I gave some to a sweet young virgin last week ... she made love for eight hours!"
Then, unexplainably, she felt it begin in her, the first tiny, keening tingle in her loins like a small spark of warmth, seeming to spread, permeating her whole belly. She remembered reading a description of the small spark from a passing motorist's cigarette that had started a huge forest fire, a fire that destroyed thousands of acres of prime timber land. Oh, God! Don't let this be like that tiny spark!
But, relentlessly and against her will the heat grew in her. What could it be? She didn't really believe the bunkum about a drug of any kind being able to overcome the morally instilled beliefs of a person.
And, yet ... and yet, oh God, she was beginning to feel something ... something foreign and totally alien to her way of thinking.
"Will you be good if I untie you?" he asked.
"Yes, yes," she groaned, anxious for him to release her hands. "I promise!"
Peter leaned over her and stole a look at her lovely breasts while he worked to untie the knotted ropes. When her hands were free, Elaine rubbed at her wrists to get the circulation going again.
"I hope you realize what we're doing here," he challenged her.
"I guess you plan to make love to me or something like that." Elaine resolved herself to her fate. Peter knelt between her thighs, pushing them wide open with the pressure from his knees.
Elaine felt a slow-burning fire ignite in her crotch and she wiggled her ass seductively, anxious to accept whatever Peter had up his sleeve. She kept an eye on his flaccid penis and felt a tingle, imagining what it would be like inside her receptive cunt.
"Guess you're starting to feel the flow," Peter observed. He laid his head down on her chest and buried his face in her ample breasts.
"Oh Stepmama baby!" Peter lapped at her nipples like a baby kitten. Elaine enjoyed the feeling of wetness and she could see Peter's angry cock start to rise to the occasion.
"I hope you know what to do with a big one."
"I think I can handle it," Elaine murmured, getting pretty aroused herself.
Peter tongued Elaine's mouth and ears and she could feel his breath coming heavily. He moved his hands down to her waist and around to her back, squeezing her lusciously firm buttocks. Elaine's hands crept to her own breasts, fondling them gently, before she let them roam down to her lower abdomen and vulva. She gently massaged her clitoris as she moved her hips up to Peter. She was surprisingly wet and she could feel the lubrication oozing out to the tops of her thighs.
"I'm going to fuck you good Stepmama!"
"MMM, ooo...." Elaine moaned in response.
Peter spread his body over her and Elaine took hold of his throbbing cock and guided it into her hungry cunt.
"Oh, Peter...." She gasped as he thrust his steaming organ deeper and deeper. She groaned from way down in her throat, her hips flexing and moving of their own volition.
"Yeah baby, ohhh!" Peter moaned as he descended on her repeatedly.
"Fuck me Peter, oooo!" Elaine squealed. Her elbows pressed in tight against her ribs and her head flailed crazily from side to side, totally out of control. Her hand crept back to her twitching clit and she rubbed it savagely while Peter fucked her.
"Harder, harder...." Elaine wailed at him.
"Yeah, oh yeah!" Peter thrust his penis in faster and harder, deeper and deeper into the wet tunnel of her vagina.
Elaine couldn't believe what was happening to her. Yes, she was actually responding to her own stepson and she wanted him to fuck her! To fuck her as hard as he could!
Peter smiled in triumphant excitement. He pushed his steel-hard rod deeper and deeper into Elaine. His stepmother who had loathed and hated him was lying there with her legs open to him, squirming excitedly under him. Yes, he had wanted to screw it into her ever since his father had married her. Peter knew that his father had no idea how to satisfy her. But here he was, pushing it into her, giving her pleasure that she had never known!
"Oh Peter!" Elaine growled like an animal. Her cries drove Peter on faster and faster. Good, he thought, he wanted her to beg him for it. This was only the beginning. They had the whole weekend together and by the end of it she'd be worshipping his powerful prick.
Elaine started to claw at Peter. She dug her nails into his back and ripped at his flesh. He lowered his mouth to hers and she bit him. Animal passion had overtaken her.
Peter gloated to himself. The pain of Elaine's scratching and biting had ignited his pleasure even more. This need would drive her insane. He'd made her want it more than anyone could, he told himself.
"I love you!" Elaine screamed as he drove his prick into her.
Elaine's passionate declaration was just what Peter needed to hear. He flicked his hips forward, driving into her with all his strength.
"AAAaaagh!" she screamed in agony and ecstasy at his sudden force. Peter enjoyed the sound of her scream. He thrust again, harder, listening for her animal-like moans to follow.
"Oh Peter! Oh, God! I can't stand it!"
Peter held Elaine's arms down, so that all sensation would be concentrated in her burning loins. Her incoherent whimpers came from deep in her throat.
"Oh God!" Elaine whimpered, letting out her breath. He could feel her fighting the thin hairline sensation that separated her from the rush of orgasm. He watched as her nostrils flared and her throat began to work with little mewling sounds of pleasure that joined in cadence with the tempo he had set.
Peter lowered his lips to hers, thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper into her open wailing mouth. Her whole body had come to life under him. Elaine responded to his kiss and plunged her tongue deep into his throat. Tiny droplets of sweat had broken out on her forehead and she undulated deliciously, grabbing his prick with the muscles inside her.
For a moment, Elaine thought about Ben. They had never really gone all the way, but what if they had...?
It would have been on the beach at night, the sand squishing between the toes as they walked along in the moonlight, the waves crashing onto the shore.
"I love you Elaine," Ben said quietly.
"Ben, I do want you," Elaine stopped walking and looked him directly in the face. They didn't exchange another word, only the incoherent noises of lovers lost in ecstasy.
Ben slowly unbuttoned the fresh summer print dress that fit loosely on Elaine's shoulders. After she stepped out of her dress, she unzipped his faded jeans, feeling the warmth of his aroused penis through his clothes.
Their passion mounted quickly as both thrilled to the other's touch. Finally, Elaine felt the fullness of Ben's magical penis in the vagina that had craved him the many nights that their lovemaking had not been quite complete.
They kissed almost continuously, muffling the moans that were trapped in their throats. He thrust into her so deeply that she almost climaxed immediately. But they shared their pleasure for many minutes before his hot semen flooded what had once been empty and unfulfilled.
Elaine jerked out of her reverie and remembered that she was here in this bed with Peter, not Ben. And she thought again sadly that it had been Kirk, not Ben or even Peter, that had made love to her completely for the first time.
Peter could feel the sperm start to bubble inside of him. He was forced to clench his teeth and call on all his power of self-control to keep from coming. He strained to maintain himself immobile above her for just a little while longer. Elaine wasn't making it easy for him. The raw nerve-ends of her vibrant flesh were electric with supercharged carnality.
He hissed through clenched teeth at her. "You want it now ... don't you?"
"Oh Peter, yes, yes!"
"Remember, Stepmama, how you turned me down before?" Peter rammed his rod into her hard.
"That was before...." Elaine could barely talk anymore.
"Tell me how badly you want it!" Peter commanded her.
"OOOO!" Elaine could only groan in response.
"Tell me!" Peter screamed at her, pounding his penis into her.
"I ... want ... you ... Ohhhh!"
"What do you want me to do?" Peter asked her, crazed with the pressure of his soon-to-explode balls.
"I ... want ... you ... to...." Elaine's voice broke as she writhed and fought the climax that was building in her.
"Tell me!" Peter rammed her.
"Ohhh ... wa ... want ... you to fuck me!" Elaine spit the words out feeling the excitement mount to its peak.
"You want me to fuck you!" Peter repeated, fighting his climax.
"Yes, oh Peter, yess!" Elaine screamed in total ecstasy as she came, over and over and over. Glorious waves of sensations pulsed through her body before they washed over her and released her from the bondage of sexual passion.
While Elaine had her orgasm, Peter's prick exploded inside her. His sperm flooded her vagina and they came almost simultaneously.
Peter withdrew his prick from her cunt and Elaine took it lovingly in her mouth. She sucked the remaining drops of sperm from his tender member. Although Peter had just come, he felt a fresh twinge of arousal in his limp penis.
Elaine, exhausted, was suddenly filled with a desire to give Peter intense pleasure. She positioned herself between his legs, as he had positioned himself between hers and began to lick hungrily at his steaming and hairy balls.
"My God, Elaine! What are you doing?" Peter asked her stupidly.
"I'm going to suck your cock till it falls off!" Elaine told him wickedly. She slid her hands under his buttocks and squeezed his ass. She buried her face in his pubic hair and wrapped her lips around the tender head of his tired, shriveled penis.
"Elaine, please be gentle with me," Peter chided her softly.
"Can't you handle the rough stuff, cowboy?" Elaine teased.
She resisted the urge to bite into his sweet little wienie and instead, she lovingly licked the length of it. Then, wetting both her palms, she gave Peter's penis a damp massage, gently flipping his rubbery rod from hand to hand.
"Nice trick," Peter smiled at her, genuinely impressed with her technique.
"I just invented it," Elaine said proudly. "It's called Peter's Peter Picker-Upper."
"Great stuff."
Elaine continued to flip his phallus while she lowered her mouth to his balls again. "I've always been a meat eater."
"I've always been a meat-beater," Peter retorted.
"Yeah, I can see the stretch marks on your dick here, Jack."
Peter smiled and enjoyed their pleasant new intimate come-raderie. "Suck that rod, mama!"
Elaine lowered herself to the occasion. She really was a vegetarian, but she guessed she'd make exceptions in this case. The clammy smell of sex and semen clung damply to Peter's pubic hair. Elaine rather liked the smell. Some might have found it repulsive, she might have found it repulsive herself under different circumstances. But at this moment, it was the smell of life to her, of vitality and healthy sexuality.
Peter's body started to quiver as Elaine began to suck harder and harder on his balls, rubbing his prick up and down with her agile fingers. God, she did it better than he ever could!
"Why don't I put my mouth near your juicy little cunt and then everyone can have a good time," Peter suggested.
"Sounds like an okay idea, but I'm having a pretty good time with your prick here," Elaine told him. Peter eased his body around and positioned his mouth next to Elaine's vulva. He felt Elaine's tongue slide up and down the length of his love rod like she was licking a lollipop. He pressed his lips to her labia and inhaled deeply of her woman's essence. He inserted his tongue gently but firmly into her vagina and they lapped at each other eagerly. His penis started to swell with sperm and passion once again and her cunt began to relubricate itself.
"They ought to call you the "King of Cunnilingus," Elaine kidded him.
"And you'd be given the title of "Finest Fellater in the Four Corners," he replied. He rubbed his face into her pubic hair, delighting in the smell and texture and pleasure that they were sharing together.
"If God had wanted women to give blow jobs, they wouldn't have been born with teeth," Elaine quoted coyly.
"You've been surprisingly good with yours," Peter complimented her.
They both fell silent, and their good-natured pillow-talk was soon replaced by moans and groans of mounting pleasure. Peter felt his penis swell in Elaine's mouth and she fought her impulse to gag as he urged her to push it further and further into her throat. He licked and sucked her cunt enthusiastically and she moved her hips to guide his pressure to the right places.
Elaine found that as she grew more and more excited it became harder to concentrate on Peter's pulsating prick. She liked having it in her mouth, but she was selfish enough to just want to enjoy the sensations he was triggering with his tongue. There was another feeling stirring in her as well. Yes, it was a craving for that steel-hard rod that she lapped at lovingly in her mouth. She began to want his prick badly. She wanted him to ram it between her legs and thrust and thrust until they both came again. Did she dare confess her desires to him?
"Peter, I want you, I need to feel you in me," she murmured sweetly.
Peter moaned softly in response. Yes, he too had a similar craving. As nice as it was to smell her delicious cunt and feel the wetness of her mouth around his prick, he wanted to be inside her, pounding their bodies together till they exploded. He climbed on top of her and entered her immediately. They fucked deliriously and fell into a quieter, closer orgasm than the one before.
CHAPTER SIX
Frank Coppol was holding his weekly meeting. There was much business to attend to, reports to be made and acted upon and money to be received and paid out.
He speared the speaker with his one good eye. "Johnny," he said, his voice soft as usual. "Johnny, that's your territory those whores are operating in. What do you know about it, so far?"
Johnny Leonard, tall, suntanned and good-looking, a man who could be mistaken for a television or a movie personality, was visibly nervous.
"Not much, Frank. It seems to be a small operation. Maybe five, six girls at the most," he reported.
"Who's the guy running it?"
Leonard hesitated, glancing around the room for help that was not there. Helplessly, he said, "I don't know...."
"Find out! Bring him in!" Frank Coppol issued his orders still in that soft voice.
"Right, Frank," Leonard said, looking down at the rug. "Right away!"
Coppol dismissed the problem as having been solved already. He looked around the room at the alert, expectant faces. It might have been a meeting of the board of an important financial corporation. There were twelve men present, all well-dressed and meticulously groomed. His good eye came to rest on another face. "Next item," he said briskly, "is Guido's report on that problem down at San Pedro. I'd like to know why there was a work stoppage, after we promised there wouldn't be any more."
Kirk Westlake was not in Colorado. He had merely gotten into his car and driven to Santa Monica where he parked in a numbered stall in the carport of a well-appointed apartment house, got out, mounted the stairs, knocked at the door of apartment 21 B and was admitted by a svelte brunette who greeted him warmly, put a dry martini in his hand and didn't object when he suggested after a few minutes that they go into the bedroom.
"You're not busy tonight, are you?"
"No, Kirk. I cancelled out an all-night John when you called me," she answered, matter-of-factly.
"I'll make it up to you," he promised.
They were lying on her bed.
"How would you like to make a party of this?" he asked.
"Sure, honey ... anything you want," she agreed. "Another girl ... or another guy?"
"Another girl," he said, reaching for the bedside phone.
He dialed an unlisted number and soon a woman's voice came over the wire to him. "Hello?"
"Pauline? Is Gloria booked up tonight?"
In the bedroom of her lavish home in Brentwood, Pauline looked across the bed at the red-headed Gloria who lay sprawled naked beside her.
"Yes, she's busy," Pauline lied.
"Oh, I see. I'm at Fran's ... can you send Barbara over here?"
Irritated, but not willing to show it, Pauline consulted a small book on the bedside table. "Barbara's busy. But I'll try to get hold of Joan ... she's available."
Kirk remembered Joan. Yes, she would do, he decided. "Send her over. Fran's-Olivewood Towers, 21B," he said.
"I know the address!" Pauline said testily.
"Of course."
"Is that all, Mr. Westlake?"
"Give my regards to Gloria."
The line went dead in her hands and Pauline slammed the receiver down. "That S.O.B.!" she seethed. "Someday, he'll go too far!"
"What's wrong, darling?" Gloria asked.
"That was Kirk! He's always wanting to sample the wares! The bastard! Some day, I'll figure out a way of getting back at him!" Pauline fumed.
"Don't worry, baby," the redhead soothed. "Come back here to me ... I'm getting all cooled off...."
Pauline smiled, relaxing. "How could I forget?" she said.
It was not really the work that had to be done, Jack Chavez finally admitted to himself. Sure, there were the tender, budding plants in the greenhouse on the Westlake estate that needed to be watered. They wouldn't dry out before Monday, but it wasn't zealousness for his work-although he did take a measure of pride in it-that seemed to draw him, beacon-like, to his place of employment. Rather, it was his employer's wife. It was her body, that vision of blonde female loveliness that drew him hypnotically. He had to see her! She had been in his mind all night long.
It was easy to find prostitutes in L.A. But that was not enough, anymore, for him. Mrs. Elaine Westlake would still be there, in his mind. He couldn't shake it! He had to see her!
But he was not supposed to work this Saturday. At about 8:30 he drove down the boulevard toward the Westlake estate. Parking his battered pick-up truck several blocks east of the sprawling grounds, he walked casually along the sidewalk, turning into the long drive that led up to the large mansion. Everything was quiet. No one stirred about the place. Actually, that was normal. Mrs. Westlake was a notoriously late riser, usually getting out of bed well after her husband had gone off to his work at the studio.
He left the drive and walked noiselessly in the grass, skirting wide to avoid observation from the house itself.
"Damn!" he grunted to himself. "Anybody'd see me they'd think I was a burglar!"
Gaining the trellis from which he had climbed to the portico several times, he cautiously ascended, little by little, until he stood on the floor above, the double French windows only three paces away.
One thing he had decided: he did work on the estate, and that was in his favor if young Westlake accosted him. Those young plants in the greenhouse had to be watered today.
Jack listened. He heard nothing. The sweat stood out on his face, glistening in the sunlight. She must be sleeping, he decided. Good! He could watch He had never watched her as she got up, first thing in the morning. This would be something new. Did she sleep nude? Fervently, he hoped that she did.
He moved, silently, to the place where he could look through the drapes. Kneeling as he had many times, he put his eye to the gap and looked into Elaine's bedroom. She was sleeping ... but who was that on the bed beside her? Christ! It's the Westlake kid!
The coming of daylight had not awakened either Elaine or Peter. Exhaustion and the drugs had worked to induce a deep sleep, but when Elaine did finally awaken to the new day, it was with the sudden realization that Peter Westlake, her stepson, was lying next to her, curled into a fetal ball. Then the memories flooded in on her now clear-headed mind. Peter had made love to her ... and she had responded, making passionate love, saying things she had never said before in her life! Oh, God! What if Kirk were to find out? What if he were to return early ... walk in and find them together?
Her mind raced. She had to get dressed and get Peter out of her bed ... out of her bedroom, and somehow, out of her life. This sort of thing couldn't continue! It was an impossible situation!
She sat up and slid her trim white legs over the edge of the mattress to the floor. Then she stood to look around the bedroom for a garment she could put on quickly. Glancing back apprehensively at the sleeping boy, she moved silently to her double dresser, opened a drawer and rummaged in it for a pair of panties.
Peter woke up. He was still slightly groggy from sleep and the aftereffects of the marijuana. He sat up, saw Elaine bending over the drawer and said, "Where in hell do you think you're going?"
Elaine thought fast. "I thought you'd like to h-have something to eat," she lied.
"Looks more like you were trying to split!" he barked.
Leaping from the bed, he advanced upon her, eyes blazing with anger. "Like maybe you didn't keep your end of the bargain!"
"W-what do you m-mean?" she gasped, recognizing that she was in danger. She shot a glance at the bedroom door.
"You know ... like you promised not to run away if I untied you!" he said, stalking her now.
"N-no!" she screamed. "No!"
She bolted for the bedroom door. He was there, blocking the way, his hands grasping at her. She scuttled away from him, avoiding his lunge. She made for the French windows, unsnapping the night latch and jerking the glass door open to dash through it. Just as she stepped onto the portico, though, Peter caught her and pinioned her arms to her sides. He dragged her back into the bedroom.
Jack Chavez, just outside the French windows, jumped to his feet just as the door swung outward, concealing himself from view. He had been a fascinated spectator of the action inside the bedroom. When Elaine bolted for the door, his only thought had been for himself. He sure as hell didn't want to get caught looking in on them. It really was none of his business if she was banging her stepson while the father, her husband, was away.
The door remained ajar as Peter dragged her back toward the bed. Jack could see everything clearly. He was tempted to leave, yet drawn hypnotically to continue watching, not quite understanding, yet, the meaning of what he had so far seen and heard. He knew there were people who indulged in sadomasochistic sex acts, beating each other up to complete sexual arousal. Sometimes they were tied up to do this, so he was not particularly perturbed at the mention of Elaine's having been tied up and then released on her promise not to run away. Couple of weirdos!
Peter wrestled his stepmother to the bed, his young, strong body easily overcoming her puny female strength. He flopped her face down on the bed and soon had the leather thongs on her wrists, effectively immobilizing her. Breathing hard, he rose to his feet and looked down at her. "Like, listen to me, you little bitch," he grunted, "don't try that caper again!"
Elaine was crying. She had not cried out during the scuffle. She was sure in her own mind that it would have been futile.
"Pl-please, Peter," she pleaded, "h-haven't you done enough to me ... already?"
"Hardly!" he bit out. "The fun's just getting started!"
"Oh, God, P-Peter ... don't r-rape me ... again!" she begged, her feeling of complete helplessness overwhelming her.
RAPE! Jack Chavez couldn't believe his ears. The little bastard had raped her? He had tied her up and raped her ... and now he was going to do the same thing again! This wasn't something Mrs. Westlake was doing because she wanted to ... she was being forced! But, what could he do? He was a voyeur, watching from a concealed place ... and he just happened to be watching at the wrong time! He couldn't call the cops ... wait, maybe he could ... make an anonymous call to headquarters, then get into his truck and beat it. That's it! Make the call and get the hell out of there. It sure wasn't any business of his. If he were caught anywhere near there, he might be a suspect himself ... and if he barged into the bedroom to take some kind of action, the kid might try to shift the blame from himself to the Chicano ... the simple gardener!
Well, Jack Chavez wasn't that simple! Whoever believed the gardener in these cases? It was time to get the hell out of there! Right now!
But his attention was caught by the struggling couple in the bedroom. In desperation, Elaine bit the palm of Peter's hand! A blow resounded loudly in the room. Peter had slapped her full in the face. "Slut!" he roared, leaping from the bed to gather up his trousers from the floor. He unthreaded his belt from the belt loops and doubled it in his hand.
Elaine watched him in wide-eyed terror. "Ooooh, God! P-Peter ... Nooo!"
The boy stuffed a gag in her mouth, but just before her words were cut off, she managed to spit out, "Just like your father!"
"Maybe!" His eyes were wild, insane.
The belt swished through the air to crack across the twin white mounds of her buttocks, leaving an ugly red welt.
Elaine's body quivered, the searing pain slashing through her whole being. She screamed, but only a squeaking, muffled sound was released through the effective gag in her mouth.
Outside, on the portico, the gardener winced, experiencing the blow vicariously, his face screwing up into a grimace of concern for his employer's wife.
He groaned to himself, "The little S.O.B. is a monster! A real weirdo!"
Peter's arm descended again, the loud whack coming clearly to Jack, and he could see the second stripe on that beautiful white female flesh. I can't let this go on!
Jack Chavez stepped through the French doors, angry and menacing with a righteous anger that boiled up white hot within his compact, muscular frame.
"Drop it, mister!" he said, his voice deadly but surprisingly soft.
The boy gaped, but recovered quickly. "Like, what the hell are you doing here, Chavez?"
"I'd like to ask you that same question!"
"You're trespassing, Mex! Like split! Get the hell out of here!"
"Love ... peace ... and all that crap of yours," Jack taunted him. "Where is it now, man?" He advanced two more steps into the room.
Young Westlake was no coward. He moved forward, making a cut with his belt at Jack's face. The belt caught him across the cheek, opening a long slanting gash.
The gardener's fist lashed out, the blow striking Peter flush on the chin, rocking his head back, and his body crashed backward, the back of his neck and the base of the skull striking the edge of the double dresser as he went down. The sickening crunch of bone told Jack, instantly, that the boy was seriously injured. Man! I'm in it now ... I'm in it!
He leaped across the room to kneel at the side of the fallen boy. His hand went out to feel for a pulse at the neck, but there was none and he put his ear to the young man's chest. He's dead. Stone dead. What do I do now?
He looked up at Elaine where she lay stretched out on the bed, her wrists tied, the two raw welts startlingly red on her body, her eyes streaming tears, pleading, muffled sounds coming through the gag in her mouth. Her sheer helplessness was obvious to him in the uncontrolled trembling of her limbs, and he knew that this had been no lover's game. It was for real! And the dead boy on the floor was very real and very, very dead!
In a daze, completely stunned at the turn of events that had brought him, unwillingly, into this situation, he rose, went to the bed and untied the ropes that bound her wrists.
Quickly, she sat up, ripped the gag from her mouth and screamed long and loud, hysterically. Jack sat down beside her and begged, "Please, Mrs. Westlake ... please settle down ... there's no more danger ... please don't scream that way!"By degrees her heart-rending sobs subsided, and she threw her arms around the gardener. She felt safe, protected, in his sinewy arms. Softly, he crooned to her as he would a small child, comforting and reassuring her.
She was still nude, and for the first few minutes of her hysteria, Jack was hardly aware that she was in his arms. She was just another human being who needed comfort. Then, he began to realize that she was the luscious woman he had been watching in secret, the woman whose body he lusted after ... whom he wanted more than anything else in the world! Until this moment, she had been an unattainable dream. He never thought he would ever hold her naked in his arms like this, under these circumstances or any other way.
Now that she was calmer, she looked up into his face and saw the wound made by Peter's belt.
She sat back, all practical woman. "We'll have to fix that."
"Later," he agreed, aware of the throbbing heat of his body. "We'll have to do something about him ... first."
Elaine looked down at Peter for the first time. She had not known until then how seriously he had been injured. She had thought he was merely knocked unconscious by Jack's blow. Now, she stared in open-mouthed, wide-eyed terror. "He's so ... so s-still! Is he...?" she was unable to say it.
Jack finished it, "Yes, he's dead! The back of his head hit the dresser when he went down. I hit him pretty hard...."
"Oh, my God!" she screamed, "Peter!"
She fell back on the bed in a dead faint, the shock of it too much for her overtaxed emotions.
Breathing heavily, feeling the immense burden of his act and what he still must do, Jack went into the bathroom, soaked a small towel in cold water and returned to the unconscious girl on the bed. Tenderly, he bathed her face and neck and idly allowed his hands to roam, feeling the swell of her breasts and the curve of svelte hips and thighs. Unbidden, lust for her swept over him. It would be easy! She could be all his! Then, with almost superhuman effort he thrust the temptation from him.
Young Westlake was dead. He supposed that made him a murderer, but he knew that his interference had been right. It was just cruel fate that the boy had died. It was an accident. He certainly had no intention of killing the young man. He only defended himself, but self-defense, he also knew, was a tricky thing in a California court. And being Chicano already registered one strike against him.
Elaine was not yet coming out of her faint. He decided there were other things he must do. His mind raced. Peter's body couldn't be found here. He would have to take the corpse some other place ... make it look as though he had died accidentally.
With an effort, he withdrew his eyes and his hands from Elaine.
Loathing his task, he carefully dressed the dead boy, picked him up and carried him downstairs to his own bedroom. He propped the boy in a chair, his mind busily conceiving a plan to use the young Westlake's own car to stage the accident.
The car was parked in the triple family garage, next to Elaine's Jaguar. Opening the hood, he looked at the engine, grunted with satisfaction, and went to find a twig of the proper dimensions. He started the engine and placed the twig in the accelerator linkage, holding it open at near-maximum r.p.m. He was satisfied it would work. All he would have to do was reach in and pull the shift to drive and the car would surge forward. Now, he had to find a suitable site.
He re-entered the house to see whether Elaine had come to her senses. It was necessary to explain his plan to her. She had to be a part of it, because he would need her help.
Elaine was in the living room, dressed and dry-eyed. She came to meet him. "I-is he really gone?" she asked.
Jack assured her solemnly that it was true. She sat down wearily, a sigh escaping from her lips. "It was an accident ... wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was, Mrs. Westlake," he said sadly. "Now, we've got to make it look like the accident happened with his car."
"We...?"
"Yes ... we!" he said with determination. "I have to have your help."
Swiftly, he outlined what he planned to do. They were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Elaine was startled, but Jack motioned to her that she should answer it.
"Hello?"
Pauline's voice floated over the wire to her. "Elaine ... I want you to come down to the shop today ... about two-thirty!"
"But ... I don't understand ... you said...." she began.
"I've changed my mind! It's important that I see you!" Pauline's voice was hard, decisive.
"Yes, of c-course, I'll be there," Elaine murmured.
Hanging up the phone, she turned to Jack and said, "I have to go downtown."
"Drive Peter's car," Jack told her, "and meet me at the lake!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Her mind seething with unanswered questions, Elaine drove to the Continental to see Pauline. She could think of no reason for the call demanding that she come down to the dress shop. The tone of voice Pauline had used bothered her, though. Her new employer had never sounded so angry before, but Elaine's real worry was centered on Peter, Jack Chavez, and their need to dispose of her stepson's body. In a way, she decided, she was an accessory ... if the police ever got into the act. She had agreed to help Jack. He had explained to her how vulnerable his position would be if they called the police and merely told them the truth; and additionally she had been convinced that it would be much better for her, too, if the rape story did not have to be told.
She had not yet sorted out the right and wrong of it. She was glad that Jack had come to her rescue, but she was bothered by a nagging doubt that what they were doing, were going to do, was somehow not exactly the right thing.
A startling thought struck her: would she be, in some way, bound to Jack Chavez now? He had not intimated anything like that, but she was sure that he had looked at her as only a man can look at a woman he desires! But that was impossible ... he was only their gardener, who had heard the commotion in her bedroom and had come to help her. Then, another revealing thought flashed through her mind. Jack had entered the room through the French windows, from the portico!
She wrestled with this new idea. He would have had to climb the trellis to get there. Had he done it before? Somehow, she guessed that he had. Why? The answer was obvious when she thought about it. He had been watching her in the privacy of her bedroom! That had to be it! Jack Chavez was a peeping torn, and he had been on the portico and seen Peter beating her. It all fit together like a jigsaw puzzle!
Elaine was sitting in the living room of Pauline's plush apartment on the floor above her office. She was still puzzled as to why she had been summoned there on a Saturday afternoon. She had agreed to begin work on next Monday, as a model, to pay off her debt to the dress shop. Thus far Mrs. Riggs had said nothing to indicate the purpose of this meeting.
Pauline was speaking. "In view of the very large amount you owe me, I've decided that it must be paid back at a faster rate, Elaine."
"I don't u-understand...."
"The modeling fees will not be enough ... the owner wants his money fast!"
"I can't get any faster ... y-you already know that...." Elaine stumbled.
"Then, you'll have to get the money from your husband!"
"No!" Elaine said with alarm. "I can't do that!"
"There is one other alternative," Pauline said, smoothly, "You could also entertain some men in one of my apartments."
"E-entertain ... men?"
"Yes."
"You m-mean ... sex ... sexually?" The meaning began to dawn on her.
"Yes ... any kind of sex they may want!"
Elaine gasped. "But that's p-prostitution! I'd be a ... a...."
"Whore!" Pauline finished for her. "A very high-priced one, too!"
Standing up, Elaine cried, "No! I-I'd rather face my husband than that!"
Pauline remained calm. "Sit down, Elaine! I have another, stronger reason why you should cooperate. Gloria!"
Elaine was startled to see a beautiful red-haired woman, lightly clad in a see-through wrapper, her nude body undulating curvaceously under it as she crossed the room. She carried an automatic carousel-type slide projector. Placing it on the low coffee table, she plugged in the power cord, sat down and said, "All ready, Pauline."
Pauline nodded toward Elaine, "Gloria, this is Elaine...."
Gloria smirked, "Oh, yes, I recognized her."
The redhead switched off the lights and turned on the slide projector.
Elaine had been curious as to what this elaborate show was all about, but her curiosity turned to anguish as the first vivid color slide was projected on the opposite wall. Elaine's own face loomed larger than life, her eyes closed, the passion of the moment etched plainly on her countenance as she embraced the svelte body of Pauline on Pauline's bed.
She covered her eyes and moaned softly, blushing red, "Oh, no...."
"You might as well watch the whole show!" Pauline snapped.
The next slide was even more graphic, depicting Elaine in a very intimate position with her woman employer.
Elaine sobbed, "M-my God ... h-how...?"
"Gloria!" Pauline said proudly. "She's an excellent photographer, wouldn't you say?"
The agony of watching the rest of the slides was almost more than Elaine could bear, but finally it was ended and the lights snapped on. She could only sit slumped in her chair, beaten, defeated. Pauline, she realized, held the winning hand in those color slides. The pictures indicated plainly that she had enjoyed the lesbian interlude.
"Well ... do you put that body of yours to work, or not?" the older woman demanded.
Elaine hedged, "W-will you give me those h-horrible slides?"
"Yes, I'll let you have them ... when your debt is paid, but if you don't cooperate fully, I'll turn them over to your husband!"
"I-I don't seem to have m-much choice," Elaine sobbed.
"No, you don't have any choice!" Pauline gloated. "W-what do I have to do...?"
"Gloria will take you to the apartment. She'll explain things to you on the way over," the woman said.
Gloria drove expertly through the city traffic, chatting gaily as though Elaine were an old girl friend.
"Actually, this is a pretty easy life," she explained. "All our Johns are business and professional people who do their thing in the afternoon ... before they go home. There isn't much night work. That's up to you, if you want extra work, but all our regular dates are afternoon ... sometimes a few mornings. That's the beauty of Pauline's set-up ... nobody ever needs to know where you are ... or what you're doing, because it's all day work. Most of the girls are married."
"You too?"-
"Yes, but he's a louse. I get my kicks with girls ... and make myself extra money on the side with the Johns," Gloria went on.
"Johns?...."
"They're the guys-the customers."
"Oh," Elaine murmured, "I guess there's a lot I don't know."
"You'll learn fast. I did!" Gloria assured her. "Do you expect s-someone this afternoon?"
"Yes, two as a matter-of-fact."
"T-two?"
Gloria glanced sideways at her. "They're both actors," she furnished.
"Would I-I know them? Would they know me...?" Elaine asked apprehensively.
"Maybe ... but you don't let on ... and neither will they."
They arrived at the apartment that was like many another in the city, each striving for some distinctive individuality, but still organized along the same plan. The inevitable swimming pool shimmered blue-green in the sunlight.
"Drink?" Gloria asked, when they were inside.
Elaine drank alcohol rarely, but now she decided a drink-or perhaps two or three-would numb her enough to do what she had to do. My God! What had she gotten herself into? She was being forced to become a prostitute ... a whore! God! She needed help. Never before had she felt so alone ... so scared.
Gloria fixed martinis. The clear liquid went down smoothly and Elaine tossed the first one off fast. She sipped the refill, waiting for the alcohol to work its magic on her brain, so she wouldn't have to feel, or think. It would be better that way.
The door chimes sounded. Gloria went to the door. "They're here," she said. "Put on your best party smile!"
The redhead opened the door to admit two well-dressed men who greeted her warmly, obviously well-acquainted with her as they both embraced her, patting her body suggestively. Gloria murmured something that Elaine didn't catch as they came over to her to be introduced.
"And who is this ravishing creature you've been hiding from us?" the taller of the two men asked. Elaine recognized him immediately as a popular movie leading man. His latest film was showing now in all the first-run theaters.
Gloria said, "Paul ... may I present Elaine? And Hal ... Elaine."
Hal, she realized, played in a weekly TV show. She acknowledged the introductions, marveling that the formal greeting was a mockery ... considering their reason for coming here. There must be some macabre humor to this, she thought, without being able to define it.
Finishing her second martini with them, she accepted a third and the room began to spin. She became gay and loose.
Once she caught Gloria's eyes in a warning that said to take it easy! But she was caught up in the fun as the conversation bubbled around her.
Finally Paul rose and led her into the bedroom. She felt dizzy, almost faint from the gin she had slugged down, and she knew that this was the moment she dreaded, the moment when she would become something else than a former starlet and housewife and respectable woman. In a few minutes she would join the list of women who engaged in the world's oldest profession. Oh, God! She didn't want to go through with it! How could she? She was throwing everything down the drain. She would become dissolute, depraved. She would lead the sordid, secret life of the prostitute. Could she even live with herself ... after? Oh, Lord!
Paul took her in his strong arms and unzipped her dress all the way down the back, his hand trailing down to pull her body close in against his. She did not resist: that's why she was here. To entertain him! She smiled to herself ... the word was a euphemism for something much more base. She was going to get fucked for money ... money she had already spent.
"Let's get you naked," Paul winked to Hal as he lifted Elaine's dress off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor.
"Hey Hal, she's got great tits, don't you think?" Paul reached into Elaine's slip and roughly grabbed a handful of her breasts. Hal came over to them and maneuvered her slip straps over her shoulders until the flimsy garment fell to the floor on top of the dress.
"Wooo hooo!" Hal nipped at Elaine's breasts through her bra, while Paul dexterously unhooked it.
"Let me make it a little easier for you, pal," he told Hal, who went right to work on Elaine's bare breasts.
"Yum, yum," Hal slobbered out as he ran his tongue around the areolas and sucked noisily on the nipples. Elaine tried to keep her blank smile and enjoy the sensations. She realized that she was a pair of tits to them and a cunt, but somehow she'd try to have a good time with them.
"Let's get her panties off!" Paul suggested and the poor pair of panties was almost ripped to pieces as the two men both attempted to whip them down over her hips at the same time. Paul whistled when her naked crotch was revealed. "Looks like a juicy little cunt there, honey." Hal stuck a finger in her from behind and Elaine jumped at the unexpected and sudden goose.
"She's dry as a boner," he reported to Paul.
"We'll fix that," Paul addressed both Hal and Elaine.
"Hey Paul, I think it's time for us to jump into our birthday suit jammies, want to give us a hand, Roxanne?"
"Sure," Elaine said quietly. "Excuse me, but my name is Elaine," she added, looking down.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry baby," Hal told her. Then under his breath to Paul, "Roxanne, Putzanne, what the fuck is the difference!"
Elaine started to unbutton their shirts and unzip their pants, while they busied themselves playing with her bobbing breasts and running their hands along the curves of her body.
"Time for bed kids," Paul offered cheerfully. The two men guided her to the bed and they all sat down together. Elaine of course was seated in the middle.
"Do you do this often?" Elaine asked, trying to make conversation.
"Yeah, we like to work together a lot," Hal told her.
He took her in his arms and kissed her, his tongue probing deep into her mouth. Then Paul joined in and gently pressed Elaine down on her back. They positioned themselves on either side of her. They began to rub their hands lightly over her body, a gentle, stirring massage that gave her the slightest tingle in her clitoris. Elaine watched their every move as their penises bobbed and wagged and started to swell.
"We're going to make it real good for you, baby," Paul reassured her. "Yeah, real, real good," Hal chimed in after.
Hal pushed his tongue into her open mouth and as they kissed and tongued each other, Elaine grabbed onto his penis. She stroked it gently with her hand and reached down to play with his balls and back up again to run her hand over his lower abdomen and pubic hair. She teased him with her hand, rubbing his aroused cock up and down and then squeezing it or moving down to his balls.
In the meantime, Paul had discovered the sweetness of Elaine's luscious thighs and juicy cunt. He brushed his finger through the center of her labia and toyed with the tiny button of her clitoris. Elaine wriggled with pleasure, fighting hard to retain control of her passions and concentrate on Hal's penis.
Hal's rapidly swelling cock was now between Elaine's breasts, which Elaine squeezed around him. She moved his body up just a hair, so that her tongue could just reach the tip of his cock.
"Mmm MMM!" Hal responded enthusiastically-
"This lady got some good stuff!" Paul agreed.
Paul positioned himself between Elaine's legs and she realized with a rush that she was about to be eaten out.
Hal could feel Elaine's body shudder. "That's right baby, you're about to be gone down on by a pro!"
"Thanks for the compliment, pal!"
"I calls them as I sees them!" Hal told him. Paul pushed Elaine's knees up and spread her legs open as far as they would go.
"Care for some soy sauce with that?" Hal kidded him.
Paul ran his rough tongue along Elaine's thighs, making her wait for that inimitable moment when he would plunge inside of her.
"That feels very good Hal," Elaine said deliberately.
"The name is Paul, babe. I guess we're even." He smiled as he caught on to her "mistake." Paul turned his attention back to Elaine's body. He lapped and nipped at her thighs and worked his way up to the center of her legs.
Elaine continued to stroke Hal's cock, although she found Paul's maneuvers between her legs to be a bit of a distraction. She reached around to grab Hal's ass and she squeezed his buttocks hard.
"Ooo!" Hal responded.
Elaine pushed him forward until his entire cock hung directly over her mouth. She pressed the corona between her lips and sucked hard on the head of his swollen cock. She massaged his penile shaft with one hand and tickled his balls with the other. Hal's prick grew steel hard and he couldn't resist pushing it deeper and deeper into Elaine's throat. She gagged at first, but was able to relax her throat. She guided him in with her hands and they were able to establish a rhythm. Elaine would stroke it with her hands and then the two of them would help it into her mouth and down her throat. Out it would come again, pink and hard with a trickle of pre-come juice glistening at the head.
Paul continued to bury his face in Elaine's lubricating cunt. His tongue flicked at her labia and clit and then he drove into her moistened vagina.
"Ooo, oooo!" Elaine gurgled and moaned. It was hard for her to talk with Hal's penis in her mouth.
Paul inhaled deeply and thrilled to Elaine's delicious, womanly scent. He pressed his mouth into her entire vulva, pulling and sucking on the labia and teasingly running his tongue over her clit.
Hal worked hard to hold his erection, but Elaine's mouth was making it very difficult. Elaine could feel soft spasms running through him and she knew that he was not too far from coming. She sucked and massaged his pulsating prick as hard and fast as she could, being very careful to keep the strokes and motions in rhythmic progression.
"Oh, oh, oh my God!" Hal's erection exploded suddenly deep in Elaine's throat. She could feel the reckless spasms in her mouth and the hot flood of semen as it poured down her throat.
Hal collapsed in exhausted ecstasy on the bed and Paul and Elaine were left to concentrate solely on each other. Elaine positioned herself so that she could play with Paul's poor, neglected penis, which she found to her amazement to be surprisingly hard. She worked on him with two hands, stroking and rubbing his shaft, head and balls.
Hal, having regained his strength some, reached his hand over to Elaine's crotch. He rubbed her labia and clitoris gently in a swirling motion, before pushing his middle finger into her vagina. He forced it in and out, in and out, each time pushing it in a little deeper to dilate her. Then he inserted two fingers, and three, until his whole hand was driving its way through her oozing wetness.
Elaine noticed to her amazement that Hal's cock was on the rise again. Paul's prick was twitching with pre-come juice between her hands. She wanted them both inside of her with their hot, hard cocks. She wanted to fuck them and she wanted to feel a steaming hot prick forcing its way between her legs.
Paul seemed to have read her mind, or maybe he was just ready to screw. In any case, he took his erect penis from her hands and stretched his body out on top of her.
"MMMmmm!" Elaine moaned in anticipation.
"You ain't felt nothin' yet," Paul informed her. Hal watched them eagerly, periodically fingering his own cock.
Paul tickled Elaine's cervix with the tip of his prick.
"Oooo, I want you!" Elaine exclaimed. "I want you real bad!"
"What do you want baby?" Paul continued to rub the tip of his penis on the entryway to her vagina.
"I want you inside of me! I want you to fuck me!" Elaine groaned out.
Paul rammed his love rod into her, and Elaine wriggled with delight. He thrust himself down on her hard and her hips started to move with him. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest on top of her and she wanted to be crushed by him. Paul also flexed his hips and came into her cunt with increasing drive and pressure.
Hal's penis was rock hard and he wanted to fuck Elaine very badly. "I need to come, man," he told Paul.
"Let's try it the way we did a couple weeks ago," Paul told him breathlessly. Paul gently moved Elaine to the center of the bed and flipped her over on her side, his penis still inside her. Hal came around behind her and rubbed some Vaseline on his cock from an open jar on the nightstand. Elaine wasn't sure what was going on. She was too caught up in the magic sensations that Paul was creating in her with his throbbing, thrusting organ. Hal massaged Elaine's asshole a little before inserting his lubricated cock.
"Ouch! What are you doing?" Elaine cried out in pain.
"It's called twice as much fucking for the price of one," Paul breathed out as he manipulated his cock in and out of her ass. Elaine relaxed and began to enjoy it. She loved the idea and feel of two cocks in her at the same time.
They fucked her hard, thrusting their cocks deeper and deeper. Elaine trembled as she slipped out of control and became a sensual slave to the sensations coursing through her body. But her nerve endings soon snapped and her orgasm felt like a thousand tiny explosions had gone off inside her. Hal and Paul must have come while she had, because when she drifted back down, she felt the sticky wetness of their come between her legs.
She was helpless, out of control, when it did come to her, soaringly. All three came together, within seconds of each other, the two men greedily clutching her to them, rubbing, massaging and smoothing her with their hands, boring into her ... until at last, slowly, they released her, the peaks of their orgasms subsiding and their virile members pulsing less and less, and they rolled their bodies away from her at almost the same moment.
Paul leaned backwards, as he moved to lie alongside her again, and said, "I've had some good ones in my time ... but baby, you're the most!"
Hal moved to her other side and groaned, "Christ! I'm turned inside out!" His hand trailed languidly across the contours of her body.
She was too overcome to speak. She had a wonderful experience. Never, in her wildest dreams, would she have thought that she would have intercourse with two men at the same time!
Then, in the midst of her joy, the bitter memory flooded back. She was not here primarily to satisfy herself, but to entertain; she was the courtesan, the prostitute ... the WHORE! She was now a full-fledged whore! Unbidden, a tear trailed down her cheek. She rubbed it away with the back of her hand and neither one of the men noticed it.
Paul and Hal lit cigarettes and smoked, relaxed and amiable. After a few moments they arose and began dressing. Elaine lay on the bed, naked and alone. She felt a chill and pulled a sheet over her lush body.
Hal took out his wallet and began to extract money.
"Elaine, baby," he said, "you try harder ... you ought to be worth a little more!" He exchanged glances with Paul as he handed Elaine a fifty-dollar bill. Numbly, she took it, not even looking at it, as Paul matched Hal, placing another fifty on the first.
Paul looked down at her and smiled, "I'd like to spend a night with you ... sometime soon. O.K.?"
"All right...." she answered.
"Damn! You beat me to it, Paul!" Hal interjected. "But I'm greedy ... I want her for a whole weekend!"
Elaine smiled, wanly. "All right ... whenever you say ... but I'll have to ... m-make arrangements ... in advance...." she lied, not having the vaguest idea of how she could possibly get away from Kirk for a weekend of debauchery.
Both men kissed her a tender goodbye, leaving her on the bed with the two fifty-dollar bills clutched in her hand. When they were gone, she looked dumbly at the money and burst into great sobs of sorrow ... a sorrow so profound that words could not possibly describe her misery.
Gloria came into the bedroom after the two men had gone. She saw two fifties. "You understand, don't you, Elaine, that this is a fifty percent split?"
Elaine nodded and extended her hand. Gloria extracted one of the bills and said, casually, "There's a couple more Johns due in about twenty minutes ... so rustle your tail and get yourself ready for them!"
"But I thought...."
"That was all for today?" Gloria laughed. "Hardly! After that, there'll be two more ... beyond that I'm not sure, although Pauline could be sending some more, later."
"You...?"
"I'll take my share from now on ... unless there are others who want two for one, like Paul and Hal," she explained.
"Are there m-many like that?"
"A few. Then there are those guys who want two women! There's more of that kind ... they sometimes like to watch while the two gals do it to each other ... things like that," the redhead told her matter-of-factly.
"Oh...?" Elaine questioned, "Can I-I have another martini?"
"Sure ... if you think it'll help."
"It will!" Elaine assured her.
"But just take it easy! Guys don't like it with a sloppy drunk woman!"
"I just don't want to feel," Elaine said miserably.
"Check!" Gloria said, her eyes gleaming. "I understand ... maybe we ... you and I ... could have our own little party ... after."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elaine never knew how she was able to get through the remainder of the afternoon and the early evening hours. Through a self-imposed alcoholic haze, she dimly remembered a long succession of men. She was taken by at least four more men, mostly nearing middle-age, obviously successful, somewhat wealthy, somewhat well-dressed, neat, clean, but running to slight paunch and flabbiness. All were married, disillusioned and disenchanted with their wives, and were looking for stimulating sex and lost youth. Her feeling of complete debasement and worthlessness grew steadily.
It was 7:30 before she could leave the apartment with Gloria, who drove her back to the Continental to pick up Peter's car. She wasn't able to leave sooner, because the lovely redhead had made good on her earlier hint of a private lesbian party after the last John had departed.
Elaine had been too tired, too emotionally drained to object, but when Gloria's tantalizing tongue had driven her up the walls, she had exploded in a fountain of orgiastic excess. She had responded in kind, the redhead guiding her, teaching her how to arouse another woman and bring her to ecstatic heights.
On the drive through town, Elaine's senses began to return as the effects of the gin began to wear off. She was cold sober as she began her drive on the freeway, eastward toward San Bernardino in Peter's car. There was one more rendezvous she must make. Jack Chavez was waiting for her. Then, cynically, the thought flashed across her mind: I-I suppose he'll want me to make love to him, too, after we....She couldn't make herself think further about their grisly task.
But the other thought went on: I'll never be the same after today. I've been changed ... changed into a whore in one day! Ifs impossible. I'd never have believed it!
The hundred and thirty dollars in her purse was real enough. She would have to believe it.
That's what she had taken away with her from Gloria's apartment.
But, Jack ... he's a man who has killed ... who killed trying to protect me from the very thing I've just been doing ... for money ... except that none of them wanted to whip me for kicks. C-could I let him do it to me, too, make love to me? Oh, God! I don't know! I owe him something ... Peter could have hurt me badly ... disfigured me ... or maimed me! And I am grateful to Jack! He didn't intend to hurt Peter ... only tried to make him stop hurting me. Oh! I'm so mixed up ... I don't know what to think ... about anything!
Following Jack's directions, she turned off the freeway at the Cal Poly campus and followed the winding grades northward towards the lake. She drove carefully and slowly, keeping a sharp watch for the old battered truck that the gardener drove. She found it parked just off the road to one of the locked entrances to the recreation area. She parked behind the pick-up, and Jack detached himself from the dark tree shadows and came over to the car, on the alert for anything amiss.
He leaned down and asked softly, "Anybody follow you?"
"Why-why, no! I don't think so!"
"Good! Follow me to a place I found."
He was gone, striding away to clamber into the pick-up. The motor roared and then he eased it back onto the road and drove ahead for about half a mile. There he parked again and waited for her.
Elaine got out, her heart pounding.
Jack peered inside the car with a small flashlight. "Leave anything of yours in here?" he asked.
"N-no." Elaine checked to make sure she had her purse.
Then, she watched in fascination as he restarted the car and maneuvered it until it pointed in the direction he wanted.
He wiped the car for fingerprints, then he rummaged in the back of the pick-up under cover of some old branches and lifted out the blanket-wrapped body of Peter Westlake, her stepson. He unwrapped the corpse and placed it in the driver's seat of Peter's own car. Covering his hand with a cloth, he started the engine, opened the hood, placed a sugar cube so that it would dissolve in the water in the accelerator linkage, closed the hood and returned to the driver's side. He fastened the safety belt around the body, released the emergency brake and slammed the door.
Peter looked quite natural, Elaine decided. She turned and walked toward Jack's truck, her eyes blinded by quick tears.
It has to be for the best! Oh, God! It has to be!
Jack reached through the car window and yanked the shift lever into drive. The car's wheels spun as it kicked up gravel and then shot forward, suddenly arching out into space. There was a mighty splash, followed by eerie stillness. Jack walked to the cliff edge and looked over to make sure. The car containing Peter's body had disappeared.
Elaine's sudden ear-splitting scream speared into the blackness.
"Ooooohh! Peter!"
He held her as great sobs of sorrow and relief wracked her body.
"Mrs. Westlake! Be quiet! Somebody might hear," he warned.
She paid no attention, and the desperate man did the only thing he knew to do. He slapped her hard in the face, commanding, "Shut up!"
Shocked, she cringed away from him, a hand going to her cheek in disbelief. Then she turned and fled blindly into the darkness.
He caught her within ten paces and pinioned her arms to her side from behind. She struggled silently, only grunting, but her strength was nothing compared to his, and he held her tight and whispered urgently into her ear, "Stop it! We've got to get the hell out of here ... right now! If we're caught ... they'll pin a murder rap on both of us!"
Murder!
Oh, God. She slumped back in his arms, drained and helpless, then turned within the circle of his arms to face him ... he had bulging muscles ... the arms of a strong, virile man ... the arms of a man who had killed ... for her.
He murdered Peter for me.
A primeval lust was suddenly rising in her ... a desire to give herself to this man. At that moment there was nothing she wanted more ... and the knowledge was frightening. She whimpered deep in her throat, an animal-like groan that defied interpretation. She moved her hips, rotating them, against him. She raised her head, lips parted, in mute and universal signal ... offering her lips to be kissed, and by inference her body to be used. The undulating hips made it specific ... she wanted him!
Jack was shocked, but pleased. Her signals were not wasted on him. She wants it! Christ, I never thought this could happen to me ... I'm her gardener ... and she's a movie star ... a rich woman. But not now! Man! Not now! We've got to get the hell out of here! Now! Now, God damn it ... first things first!
Brusquely, firmly, he spoke to her. "We've got to get in my truck and go, now! While we're riding along ... you can think this over ... change your mind if you want to. If you do, I'll understand ... and no apologies ... we go our own ways ... O.K.?" He meant every word.
Dumbly, she allowed him to help her into the passenger seat of his old pick-up. He took the blanket and made a few passes at the tire tracks in the gravel. Satisfied they would be hard to see, he got into the truck and kicked the ancient motor into life. Then, carefully staying within the speed limit, he drove back to the freeway, turned east toward the grape vineyards, finally turning on a lateral road connecting to the old highway south, thence to a dirt track that led deep into one of extensive vineyards he knew well from working there in his childhood days. He pulled to a stop, turned out the lights and sat back, a great sigh escaping from him.
"Well, it's done," he said, "but it's only a matter of time ... a few days, maybe a week, before he's found."
Faltering, she asked, "Wh-what will you do ... n-now?"
He was pensive for a moment. "I don't know, yet ... but in a few days I think I will leave L.A. There's nobody ... nothing to keep me here."
"D-d'you, you have to ... to run ... away?"
"No! I don't have to ... but it might be best if I do ... the police are going to ask questions
... I think I'll be hard to find," he explained.
"Jack...." she spoke his name softly. "I haven't changed my mind." Her hand crept out to find his thigh.
The pressure of her hand on his trembling body was almost more than he could take, he was so excited.
"I'll get a blanket ... from the back," he said thickly, not trusting his voice.
She moved her hand reluctantly, surprised at her own boldness in initiating the sexual stimulation, opened the door and stepped down onto the sandy soil of the vineyard. She heard Jack rummaging around in the truck. Then he found the blanket, shook it, and spread it on the ground a few feet away, among the heavy-leafed vines.
Elaine stood, thoughtfully, watching him. She had gone this far, she decided, therefore she might as well go the whole way. She would do everything she could to make this good for him. Then, she realized she'd never felt that way before ... sex had never been very enjoyable for her, in the past-especially with her husband, Kirk-but her new-found eroticism and the extended knowledge forced upon her in such a short space of time ... and a self-knowledge that burned, searingly, into her brain, led her to the decision she had just made. She would make love to this man, bound to her by a macabre twist of fate. She would do it wildly, wantonly, with everything she had, offering him the whole of her for their mutual enjoyment. The lewd salaciousness of her thoughts began to tingle through her as she remembered the feel of his hard muscular thigh.
Leaning back against the fender, she removed her shoes and stockings, then reaching back, she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it; her slip followed and she stood in her panties and bra. She hesitated a moment before deciding that she would offer herself completely naked. The effect on him would be more stimulating, and he had already peeped at her in the privacy of her bedroom. She unsnapped her bra and removed it, freeing her voluptuous breasts to the cool evening breeze. Then she wriggled out of her flimsy white panties and added them to the pile of her clothing on the truck fender.
Jack got to his feet after smoothing the blanket. This can't be happening to me! Pretty soon I'll wake up and find out it was all a dream ... a poor man's hopeless dream!
He looked up and gasped for pure joy. God! She was standing there completely nude. She had meant it. She would be his ... she was, symbolically, offering herself to him.
Playing her new role of complete wanton, she walked toward him across the loamy sand.
She held her head aloft, her eyes looking at him steadily as her hands came up to cup her breasts in provocative sexuality.
Jack watched her, marveling again at the vision of pure loveliness, remembering how he had watched her before, with only a wishful hope. Now, the hope was reality and his whole body throbbed with desire for her.
Swiftly, he stripped off his shirt, his sun-bronzed muscles ripping. Then, he loosened his belt and unzipped his pants, shrugging them down his well-muscled legs. He kicked off his shoes and socks. Something held him back, however, from removing his shorts. Was it modesty, or a desire that it should be she who removed them? If she did it, it would be the final signal to him that she really intended to go through with it.
He stood, lean and powerful, waiting for her. He had made up his mind that he would not touch her first. It had to be her show!
In pristine, unashamed nakedness, she stepped on the blanket and took the final step to stand before him. She looked up into his face and said softly, "Here I-I am."
His strong arms went round her as she leaned in tight to his hard body and tilted her head up, her mouth opening slightly and her moist lips inviting his kiss. He tilted his head down and captured her soft, red lips. His kiss was hard, meaningful, and he was surprised when her bold, searching tongue slipped out to encircle his lips, then burst through his teeth, probingly, asking to be sucked. He gasped with the power of the sensations generated in him. Below, his masculinity leaped into massive hardness.
Elaine felt him through the cloth of his shorts.
She broke the kiss, knelt on the blanket, reached up to his waist and pulled the shorts down, gasping, "Oh!"
He grinned in the darkness, pleased with his attributes.
With trembling fingers she reached out to touch him gently.
Jack, standing above her, could not wait. He put a hand on either side of her head and moved his hips forward. Involuntarily, her lips rounded and her mouth opened. The delicious tormenting touch was too much for Jack. He moved his hips back several inches.
"That's enough of that ... for a while!" he breathed hoarsely.
"All right," she smiled and lay back on the blanket, knees up.
Jack's breath sucked in sharply, from the sudden excitement that leaped in him at the obscene position she had taken. She leaned back on her elbows looking up at him: her lips were wet and parted in a provocative little smile of shameless anticipation, and her roundly firm breasts rose and fell with her own sexual excitement.
He fell to his knees before the open gates of her shrine.
"I used to dream about this...." he told her, "after I'd watched you ... in your bedroom...."
"Y-you watched me?" she pretended shock.
"Yes!" He reached out to spread her wider, and she moaned, audibly.
"N-now you've got the real thing," she breathed. "So please ... go on and do it, Jack ... I'm so hot!"
With a rapidly expelled sigh of pleasure, followed by a guttural, throaty noise, he moved forward to her hot, throbbing moistness.
"Ooooh!" she groaned, "That feels so goooooooood!"
Her pleasure sounds came from her throat incessantly and he, too, grunted aloud with the sharp, sweet, almost painful sensation. He raised his head to look down on her and watch her squirm with delight at his smooth strokes that was plowing all before him ... driving ... driving deeper ... causing her teeth to clench and her face to contort with the urgency of her need and the intensity of her delight.
Elaine began to squeal and moan, incessantly, under him as her head and hips tossed from side to side in unison.
On and on and on ... their heaving bodies now soaked with sweat as they rocked together, locked as one ... on the sandy ground that was firm under the blanket.
"Oh! Oh, God!" she began to chant, "I'm almost there ... I'm going to ... Oh, Gooooooddddd!"
She lunged wildly, her hips bucking, and finally, she was there, awash in the surf of her passions from which she swam, gaspingly, giddy from the pressure of the depths.
Then, suddenly, as she screamed out her climax, Jack felt it begin for him. It surged from him in a burning stream ... his breath had come ever faster to him as they labored together. Now, with a loud groan of intense pleasure, he heaved her up off the ground with the terrific force of his final thrust.
Her body convulsed spasmodically, as wave after wave of her orgasm passed over her until at last, with a sigh of complete satisfaction, Elaine crawled up beside him to smother his lips with her own before she collapsed and snuggled her body again into his strong, encircling arms.
They rested: they may even have slept for a few minutes in their satisfaction with each other. When she could speak, she murmured in his ear. "Why don't we go back to my house? There's nobody there ... won't be until late Monday afternoon."
Unhesitantly, the gardener, so enthralled, so taken with his new lover, agreed. "All right ... a bed'll sure be a lot more comfortable than this rocky ground!"
"You'll stay with me through the night?"
"Will I stay-just try to stop me from it!" he said, the vision of himself occupying that big bed in her plush bedroom with her beside him, beautiful, blonde and sexy, almost blotting out his reasoning mind completely. But love is blind-so it is said-and justice, too, is not depicted as blind for nothing! And Jack Chavez's love for Elaine was unreasoning ... and blind!
CHAPTER NINE
Johnny Leonard had all the information he needed. Acting on Frank Coppol's orders, he decided the time had arrived to make his move against the new prostitution ring operating in Coppol territory-a ring that was not paying off to Frank, and that was one of the things people just did not do to Frank.
Sunday morning, at a late brunch, Johnny issued his orders: Bring them all in, today. They'd meet with Frank at 4:00 in the afternoon!
"How about the Johns?" a heavyweight type asked him.
"Send them on their way ... just bring in the girls ... and the guy who's running it!" Johnny told them. "You've got the names and addresses."
Jack and Elaine had made a night of it. They had returned to her home, gone directly to her bedroom and copulated, neither of them thinking or caring of anything but sex. Jack had taken her three times more before dawn, then they both slept a sweet sleep of sheer exhaustion.
Awakening about noon, Elaine had looked over at his sleeping form, his nude, muscled body, so tan, contrasting sharply with her own white loveliness. She had reached out to caress him, and he awoke and she was suddenly enveloped in his strong arms again.
"Don't you ever get enough?" he asked her with a grin.
"No," she said. "It's still like a new toy."
"That's no toy," he grinned, pointing downward.
Later, satiated and hungry now, they showered and dressed, went to the kitchen where she made coffee and they snacked from Greta's well-stocked refrigerator.
They were sitting at the kitchen table over a second cup of coffee. Jack had just lit a cigarette when the fat man walked in the back door.
Jack started to rise from his chair, startled. "What the...?"
A second man entered and stood behind him. "Sit back down," he ordered, "quiet-like ... and nobody gets hurt. We just want the girl, buddy!"
Elaine screamed, and the fat man slapped her once, hard, across the face. Cold steel against Jack's back persuaded him not to interfere, this time.
"Get your purse," the fat man told her, "or whatever you need. You're going to have a talk with Frank."
"F-Frank? ... Frank ... w-who?" she asked, cringing away from him, not wanting to be hurt again.
"Frank Coppol!" he grunted. "Frank don't like people holding out on him."
"I-I don't understand...."
"You will!" the second man snapped. "All working whores pay off to Frank ... or they don't work at all!"
"And some of them can't work again, after we get finished," the fat man said, his face folding up in a smile at his own cruel humor. "Take the John out and put him in his car ... send him on his way with our regards!" he finished.
The situation was, instantly, crystal clear to Jack. As the gun in his back prodded him to his feet, he looked at Elaine with cold fury. "Just let me get my wallet," he said.
"O.K.-but careful like," the man behind him warned.
Jack took out his last twenty dollar bill and tossed it on the table, his voice was steely. "I can't pay your full price, but I never took anything for nothing in my life!"
Elaine recoiled. He might as well have struck her.
"Oh, Jack...." she sobbed, her eyes scalding with quick tears. "Y-you don't understand!"
"I understand!" he snapped and strode from the room.
"Jack!" she screamed.
SMACK!
"Shut up!" the fat man snapped. "Pick up your money ... and let's go."
Elaine could only obey, as, silently now and completely cowed, she did as the fat man bid her.
Oh, God! What have I done!? What have I done?
"They're all here now," Johnny Leonard reported.
The girls were led in one by one to be seated before Frank Coppol, who sat back, relaxed, behind his big desk, the surface of which was polished to a high gloss. Everything in the room reflected good taste with no expense spared.
There was Pauline Riggs, sullen, haughty; Gloria put on an amused smile; then there came Barbara, Joan, Marie and Francine, who were frightened, pale, sobbing. Last to be brought in was Elaine. Pauline Riggs gasped, audibly, when she saw her, "Oh, my God!"
Elaine ignored her, but her eyes clashed momentarily with Gloria's. Gloria smiled somewhat wanly and said, "Welcome to the sorority."
They had all been escorted separately into the big office, having been held in individual rooms until all were present. Now, the door opened again and Kirk Westlake was escorted into the room by two guards. He saw Elaine. His face paled, eyes widening and mouth gaping open.
"Elaine," he croaked. "What are you doing here?"
Kirk could not have been more surprised than was his wife. The room spun around her, but her faint was short-lived as someone put a glass of brandy to her lips and forced her to sip its reviving warmth.
Frank Coppol watched with easy amusement, spearing each of them with his good eye, missing nothing.
"All right," he said. "She'll be O.K. now."
Elaine settled back into the cushions with the brandy glass in her hand. She was confused. Events were happening too fast for her to grasp what was going on.
Johnny Leonard began to speak. "Here's the story, Frank. Marko, here," he indicated Kirk Westlake, "got together with Pauline Riggs, who manages a fancy dress shop...."
Marko? He called my husband Marko, Elaine thought in amazement.
"She extends credit to women who like nice clothes, but can't really afford them. Then, she springs the trap. Work it out, pay off their debt by taking on the Johns she books for them. They work it real cool ... all the dates in the afternoon, and the Johns are all high-pay business and professional types. She keeps the girls stashed in three apartments that Marko keeps for that purpose. Pauline and Gloria are the enforcers and make the pick-ups from the girls. Pauline and Marko split the take ... and Gloria gets a bonus on the side ... and the crazy thing is, it was working. That's about it."
Coppol gave a short laugh. "Smart!" he chuckled, "but not smart enough, Marko!"
"My name's Kirk Westlake ... and I'm a movie...." Kirk began.
Coppol's eyes stopped him. "We know who you are ... you're Gorgonio Marko, born in Naples! You changed your name when you came over here to work in the movies, but you had to have more ... you had to get back in the rackets, and prostitution was the one you figured you could get by with ... select girls ... rich Johns ... afternoons only ... you figured you'd never hurt us enough for us to notice you ... isn't that it?"
"It's a mistake! You got the wrong man!" Kirk croaked.
"We've got the right man, Marko," Frank said with finality. Then, with a smile, he continued, "But what went wrong with your system? Kind of ironic that your own wife was caught in your little trap ... and you didn't know it!"
Westlake shot a malevolent glance at Pauline. "You slut!" he screamed.
"Shut up," Pauline yelled. "You bastard!"
"It's a little late for recriminations," Frank Coppol interjected. "ISow, all of you listen to me.
The room became silent and all eyes turned to him.
"Nobody pulls crap like this on Frank Coppol. Now ... starting with you, Marko ... I'm giving you three days to make arrangements to go back to Naples! If you're still around after that, they'll send you home in a box! Understand? Ordinarily, I wouldn't be so lenient, but I kind of like your ingenuity ... maybe you can work with the boys in Italy."
Westlake nodded dumbly, glad to gain even such a reprieve. He knew he could have been a dead man.
Like a judge, Frank dealt with each in turn: Francine, Barbara, Joan and Marie each stated that she had been trapped into prostitution and never wanted to do it ... and wanted to get out of it, now.
Frank warned them, "Don't ever work in my territory again. Break your promise ... and you wind up broken! Believe me ... we have methods that will remind you nobody ever crosses me ... I'm Frank Coppol and my family runs Southern California!"
The four frightened women understood, and were grateful to get off so lightly.
With mounting horror, Elaine began to understand what was happening. This man wielded immense power. She knew that her turn would come soon; maybe a chance to speak in self-defense. What could she say? Then, the stark memory of Jack tossing a wrinkled twenty on the kitchen table flashed across her mind. I was a whore! Oh, God! What can I say?
Frank's good eye seemed to pin Gloria to her chair. She tried to stare him down defiantly, but it was she who wavered.
"And you, Gloria West, model, photographer ... married to an insurance company executive ... what makes you tick?"
Gloria glanced briefly at Pauline, and Frank saw it. Before she could give an answer, he had supplied one himself. "I think I know ... you make it with girls, eh?"
The redhead looked at him steadily, defiantly.
"Yes," she said, simply.
"And you and Mrs. Riggs are more than friends, eh?"
Pauline shot him a murderous look. "You assume a lot of things, Mr. Coppol."
"I assume nothing, Mrs. Riggs. I know! Now we'll consider your cases together." He thought for a moment. "Guido," he said, "I'm turning the madame over to you ... you should be able to use her in that house near the docks at San Pedro."
Guido looked her over critically and agreed, "OK, Frank ... I need some new blood down there."
Pauline sprang to her feet, eyes flaming. "I'm not a piece of merchandise! I won't be pawed ... and manhandled like a common prostitute!"
Frank's eye signaled Guido and in two strides he stood in front of Pauline. "You don't have a choice. From now on, you work for me and do as I say!"
"But those horrible working men ... sailors ... longshoremen ... they'll want to...."
"Sure they will ... and you'll give 'em anything they want, and don't forget that, either.
Now sit down and shut up, until Frank's through ... and then I'll begin training you the way I like for my girls to be trained!" Guido said coldly.
Pauline remained standing. "You can't force me to...."
She didn't get a chance to finish. Guido's hand whipped out to catch her full on the side of the face. "That's all, bitch!"
She sank to her chair, whimpering, a hand to her face and her eyes wide with disbelief. They were going to make her work for them as a common whore ... and on the docks! The vision of the rough men and human flotsam that inhabited such areas revulsed her. They were going to use her body for their own lustful satisfaction! She was trapped! They couldn't do it to her ... not to Pauline Riggs who only wanted gentle sex, with other women.
Coppol turned his attention to Gloria as Guido sat down.
"Johnny," he said, and Johnny Leonard was instantly alert. "Yes, Frank?"
"We'll send this redhead down to Tijuana, I' owe Jose a favor for helping us with that last Mexican shipment."
Leonard shifted uneasily, "What about immigration ... we don't want any trouble with them."
"No trouble to get her in ... but she'll have a hell of a time ever getting back into the States. Anyway, she'll be Jose's problem, once we turn her over to him," Frank explained.
"OK, it's as good as done," Johnny agreed.
With a horrible sinking feeling that seemed to turn to lead in her belly, Elaine knew that she was next ... and last.
Frank's good eye looked her over carefully, "Now, beauty contest winner and former movie star ... what do you have to say for yourself?"
Elaine looked at him steadily, she was dry-eyed and composed. During the time he had addressed himself to the others, she had come to a decision. She spoke softly, her voice barely audible.
"I-I was tricked," she began, "forced to play the part of a whore ... I am a w-whore ... and now ... I'll just have to keep on being one. I like nice things ... maybe I could keep on getting nice clothes ... meeting rich people ... and getting some kicks doing it."
A smile spread across his face. He chuckled, "I like people who face things realistically and honestly, and I'm going to give you your chance." He swiveled to face Johnny Leonard and went on, "Let Elaine get whatever she needs ... send one of the boys with her to help her pack, then take her to my place up on Wilshire. She'll be under your supervision ... but I want her available to work directly for me, anytime I want her ... understand?"
"Of course, Frank," he smiled.
"All right, then, that's it." Frank said and got to his feet. The meeting was over. The fates of eight humans had been determined by this man, acting as judge, jury and executioner. His word was law here ... and he was supreme. There could be no appeal and his sentences would be carried out to the letter. Such was the power wielded by the family leader who controlled all vice and crime in Southern California.
Elaine got to her feet with the others and the fat man came to escort her. She was a valuable property, now.
Frank smiled and came to her. "I like you," he said. "You treat me right ... and I'll see that you're taken care of ... properly!" He grinned lewdly, his meaning unmistakable.
"I-I understand," she said, smiling at him.
Elaine never heard again from or about Jack. He had walked out of her life forever. She did, however, hear about Pauline. A week after she went to work on the docks, she was knocked down and killed instantly by a huge tractor-trailer rig.
Elaine again awoke from a dream and tried to remember it. This time she couldn't. She looked again around another luxurious bedroom, the expensive furniture, the twenty-foot rack of new clothes hanging in the glass door closet.
Well, little Elaine, you've come a long way, she again told herself.
She glanced down at the end table beside the bed. There, strewn in jumbled disorder, were credit cards to every department store in town. And they were all hers!
The world was hers, once again.
For now she was the mistress of one of the most powerful men on the west coast.
And his power wasn't the hurting kind. No, with her at least, the head of "the family" was extremely gentle-and very generous.
It was a change she would find easy to get used to.
