They were rough as they stripped her clothes off. In outrage and disbelief, she wondered how so few men-there couldn't have been more than three-could have so many hands. They had tied a blindfold around her eyes and now those hands were squeezing and pulling at her through her bra, panties and nylons.
Her bra came off first, and she heard muffled exclamations of admiration. Audrey felt her body betray her as she reacted to the lewd touches of her captors. She began to hope that she would live through this terrible nightmare.
"Are you going to kill me?" she quavered."
"Only with kindness, baby," one of them laughed.
CHAPTER ONE
Audrey North stretched lazily, felt the light sheet rustle over her naked body and slowly opened her eyes to look into the sleeping face of one Blaine Marsh. Blaine, who was blond, looked rumpled, considerably older than his twenty-eight years and very, very tired. Recalling all that they'd done since climbing into bed shortly before midnight the previous evening-the tips of her breasts still ached and her cunt felt permanently stretched-Audrey understood why he was tired, and couldn't help smiling.
She closed her eyes again and allowed her mind to wander while she waited for sleep to return. It proved slow in arriving, so she had a lot of time in which to think....
Both she and Blaine had written their final exams in hotel administration the previous day. The pressure was off, the battle was over and there seemed to be nothing to do but go out on the town and blow off steam. All over the city, there were classmates doing the same thing. The bars were crowded and noisy with hotel administration students and graduate students making a bedlam of the place.
At the time, picking up a bottle of scotch and checking into a hotel with it seemed like the best idea in the world, so they did it. There had been no specific plan to go to bed together, but before she knew it, they were kissing passionately, tongues darting in and out of one another's mouths, and Blaine's hand was inside her dress, doing wild, wonderful things to her breasts as it moved from one well-filled bra cup to the other.
Instinct told Audrey that this was the only way to purge all the tension from her body. There was, she knew, the possibility that she was lying to herself in order to justify what she was about to do, but she didn't care. She wanted a prick. She desperately needed a prick.
I'm a twenty-four-year-old woman, she told herself. I'm not a virgin and I want the very thing this man wants. Why should I deny myself?
By then, there was another hand adding to her arousal. It was under her dress and moving slowly and warmly over the expanded top of a nylon to caress the flawless skin of her firm thigh. Blaine wasn't attempting to reach her genitals as yet, but it wouldn't be long now.
"Uh-uh," Audrey chided, breaking away from him to land on her feet beside the bed. "You can't do those things with me, Blaine, darling. Not while we still have all our clothes on," she added, laughing. The swelling protuberance below Blaine's midriff told her how he'd take the rebuff.
Marsh, his mouth tightening, scrambled down off the bed to establish some sort of record for stripping naked. As he got raw, he found there was still time to do a gentleman's thing and assist Audrey in removing her clinging, pale-blue nylon panties.
"God, you're lovely!" he said hoarsely, looking her up and down in hot-eyed appreciation. "Lovely."
"In comparison with whom?" Audrey teased, watching him. "Names and numbers, hooey." She'd already removed her bra, and what she bared there seemed to fascinate him, too. Audrey shivered in spite of herself at Blaine's minute inspection. Although he and she had been close friends all through the term, they'd never reached this stage of friendship. Even if he'd seen a multitude of bras removed in his twenty-eight years, she hoped he'd never seen anything to rival the beauty of her firm breasts.
"Where have you been hiding those beauties?" he asked, anticipating the hope.
Audrey tore her eyes off the magnificent spike of flesh between Blaine's legs-a splendid cock with both length and girth. The same place you've been hiding that spear of yours, she almost said, but didn't. "I keep them in a box under my bed," she said, smiling. For emphasis, she twisted to make her breasts sway like a go-go dancer's.
"You shouldn't," Blaine cautioned, wagging his head. "The mice may nibble on them. Then where would I be? Where would we be?"
While Audrey displayed pretended horror at the thought, he pushed her down onto the bed. She landed flat on her back with her legs high in the air. Moving quickly, Blaine held the legs up with his shoulders as he reached under her to peel the panties off her buttocks. She knew he could feel the woman-warmth of her body through them and in them.
Drawing them off her hips and down her thighs, he blinked at the marvelous expanse of bare skin. Audrey knew what he was looking at because she'd studied it many times through a closet mirror in her room. The cheeks of her buttocks were well fleshed and beautifully rounded; there were luscious curves and folds where the sleek thighs ended and the warm, silken body began. Glistening softly through a red-auburn tangle of pubic hair, the lips of her cunt invited attention from Blaine's hands and mouth.
He threw the panties aside but made no effort to remove her garter belt and nylons. He seemed to have no intention of taking those off, thinking, perhaps, that it would spoil the total effect. They came together in a caress that was pure, beautiful and animal, mouths hungrily seeking, tongues probing. With lips and tongues and teeth, with arms and legs and feet, their bodies exchanged messages of hunger and desire, of demand and imminent satisfaction.
Audrey, tremendously excited just from the nearness of him and the sight of his erect, thirsting penis just a few, tantalizing inches from its intended resting place between her legs, thought that he'd enter her immediately. She was wet enough already for a prick even of Blaine's dimensions, so she parted her thighs wide. But she was mistaken-beautifully, wonderfully mistaken.
Instead, he began to fondle and kiss her trembling body. Blaine spent a long time lavishing adoration on the proudly swelling melons which refused to fall even though she lay on her back. When his kisses began to move farther down, the silken hills sparkled with the moisture from Blaine's mouth, the dark tips extended fully in unmistakable erection.
Audrey began to writhe and moan as the stimulation took hold. Blaine's hands held her firmly from below, a buttock in each palm, as his mouth traveled down the gentle slope of her belly, brushed the red foliage around her slit and found the sensitivity of her inner thighs.
"Darling, darling!" she breathed, thrashing her legs. "I never dreamed-I never dreamed anything could be so exciting!"
With his mouth just a fraction of an inch away from the very core of her passion-the throbbing head and shaft of her clitoris-Audrey held her breath as she waited for the first touch that would draw a cry of ecstasy from her body. The touch never came. Prolonging the experience for both of them, Blaine turned her with his hands and twisted his face so that his lips and tongue could reach the twin hillocks of her buttocks. He seemed to find her attractive there, too, because his kisses covered every inch of the slopes, curves and valley before he turned her over again.
Without warning, his mouth descended on her slit and she did cry out. The sensation of a hard, male mouth on her supersensitive labia was almost too intense for comfort. When he stabbed in a tongue, Audrey thought she'd die from pleasure. While his lips glued themselves to her cunt-lips, Blaine's tongue became a wild thing, probing and lashing and driving her into a frenzy. She opened her thighs so he could reach her better, and Blaine responded by taking her clitoris between his teeth.
"Ah-oooh!" Audrey bleated, thrashing her legs. She felt the orgasm's beginnings erupt in her clitoris and fan out through her entire body. Almost involuntarily, she thrust her pelvis at Blaine's devouring mouth, wanting to engulf him, head, tongue and all.
It was the best ever for her and it went on and on until she was coming with every nerve ending in her body, flopping about underneath him like a spawning salmon. And then the sensations ebbed and she was making the long, lazy trip back to earth. Weak but not spent, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him. She saw Blaine kneeling over her, pointing his big prick at the slit between her legs.
"Yes! Oh, Blaine, yes!" she panted.
Her welcome was more than just a thank you for what he'd already given her; it was a cry of wanting. She wanted to take and she wanted to give. She wanted to make the explosion happen again, this time with their bodies locked snugly together.
Blaine's penis was so bloated with need it must have pained him. But despite the urgency, despite his greater size and bulk, he was very gentle as he moved over her. When she raised her legs, holding them high and wide apart, he knelt between them used his hand to find the way, then thrust all the way in without hurting her.
Audrey moaned just the same, the moment was so electrifying. She could tell he felt the same way, too, even if he wouldn't admit it. Men were so proud about such things. "It's good, Blaine!" she told him gazing up at him as he blotted out the light. "You feel wonderful inside me, darling! Wonderful Ahhh!"
And then he'd given her everything he had, all eight, swollen inches. She felt his muscular belly rubbing her soft one, and it was as if she were impaled on a gigantic spike of living flesh, so hot and quivery with need she could almost take his pulse with her vaginal sheath. Audrey used her fingertips' to stroke his bare back, and loved the ripple of muscles straining underneath the smooth skin. Blaine began to move in and out of her like a well-oiled machine, not hurrying the pace, just fucking her easily.
Audrey wrapped her slim legs around his waist and threw back her head, letting the sweet sensations build up in her brain as fast as they would. The magic of Blaine Marsh's churning penis in the trap between her legs became her only reason for living, her best reason for living. Her body exulted in the feel of a strong, masterful man battering away at the most sensitive part of her.
"Oh, fuck me, honey! Please fuck me!"
Blaine, rather than say the words, gave her the only reply she was interested in: an extra-vigorous slam, the head of his prick coming up short against the back of her vagina. On the next thrust, he made the tip enter her cervix a fraction of an inch, and she nearly screamed with ecstasy.
"Yes! Oh, God, yes! That's what I want! I love you, Blaine, darling!"
The lust was building for him, too-he was fucking her now in short, vicious strokes that couldn't help speeding his excitement as well as hers. Finally he was almost breaking his cock off with each lunge, withdrawing to the head with each downstroke, slamming back in like a human pile-driver until he was buried in her cunt. His balls bounced against her perineum with a noisy slap, providing regular proof of the intensity of his efforts.
She began to come when he did, and who came first hardly mattered, only that they were climaxing together. Molten drops of white-hot cum spattered her womb, and Audrey, lifting higher to get still more of him inside her, welcomed its presence, even if she had no protection at all against pregnancy. She dug long nails into the tender skin of Blaine's back and drained every last dreg from the prick in her pussy, convulsing into a ball as soon as he gave a final thrust and collapsed, panting, on top of her.
They rested for a long time before either could find the strength to get up and pour drinks. With the pressure off for both of them, conversation came easily as they resumed the drinking which had been the original plan for the evening. For a while, they talked about their plans for the future and agreed that since they'd be working within two hundred miles of one another, they'd be able to get together from time to time.
There was no reason to dress, so they stayed naked. Thus there was a continuation of their intimacy even after the original joining had temporarily slaked their passion. Audrey, lying in the hollow of Blaine's shoulder, wondered if her father would understand if he could see her this way. Amos North was progressive about most things, but maybe not when it came to his own daughter.
Gradually, as the scotch warmed them, vitality returned. Their conversation became more animated and they began to stroke each other again.
"I never knew breasts could be this beautiful," Blaine commented as he put his glass down and reached over to cup them in his hands.
"Thanks," Audrey said drowsily, enjoying the feel of his hands on her. "I kind of like them myself. But believe me, that wasn't always the case."
Marsh raised to one elbow and propped himself there. "How do you mean?"
She sighed, recalling the unhappy period in her life when she hadn't liked her own assets. "They were pretty big when I was fourteen and fifteen. I looked like I was going to tip over on my face. You can imagine how self-conscious I was. When boys whistled and made off-color remarks, I wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the top in after me."
Blaine chuckled. "I'm glad you didn't. If you had, I'd have no reason to be here now." He gave one of her nipples a gentle squeeze, and Audrey felt the thrill go all the way through her.
When one of his hands wandered down to caress her thighs, she allowed it to stay there, making no attempt to resist when he pulled them apart. Glancing over at him, she saw that his cock had fully recovered and would want to go into action again soon. The possibility excited her, as she realized that her body would be more than ready to meet any demands he might make on her.
Audrey smiled and kept her eyes on the throbbing shaft. "There's certainly a lot of you down there, Blaine darling. Have you ever considered renting yourself out as a flagpole?"
Marsh kept a straight face, although the corners of his mouth twitched. "No, but I could. It would make a very fine, junior-sized flagpole, don't you think?" Rolling off the bed, he picked up her panties and draped them over his prick. Standing at attention, he used muscular control to wave the blue nylon "flag" as he hummed something that passed for the national anthem.
Audrey shrieked with laughter and didn't care how many sleeping guests on the floor heard her. "Did you say junior-sized? Heavens, what's junior-sized about that? You've more than most men. More than daddy, for instance."
Marsh, cackling, tossed the panties back toward her other clothes and climbed back into bed with her. "Wow. I never expected to be compared with papa bear himself. Tell me about your home life, sugar." He began wrestling with her and it was all she could do to fend him off.
Audrey wasn't ready to be taken yet, so, breathless, she made a suggestion. "Remember when flagpole sitting was such a fad? People were doing it for love, for money, for almost any reason you could mention. I even think," she added coyly, "I'd like to try it once."
"In that case," Blaine smirked, "you need a bit of practice. Don't mind me. I'll just lie here and watch." Catching her in his arms, he hugged her to him, bruising her lips with his. After frenching her to a state of excitement roughly equivalent to his own, he released her, lying back with his hands under his head. "Now start climbing," he ordered. "Unless, of course, you're afraid."
Audrey bent over him, teasing his lips with the ripe melons that hung from her chest. "Who's afraid? I'm just concerned about hurting you. I mean, where would you get another flagpole to match this one?"
"Don't worry about it," Blaine advised, grinning. "Hop aboard before I put you up there." He pointed down at the eight inches of erect penis straining from the dense tangle of blond pubic hair below his waist. "Sit on him or eat him, one or the other."
She wasn't ready to eat Blaine Marsh's outsized cock, nor was she quite as calm as she pretended to be about fucking him from on top. Her sexual sophistication was partly acquired, partly affected. But she'd seen the pictures circulated clandestinely in the sorority house and in classes, so she knew it could be done. She also knew she was going to try.
She knelt astride Blaine's torso, and with her head lowered so that he couldn't see her face, began lowering herself toward his giant prick. Her heart thudded with excitement and her cunt fairly drooled the proof of it. As soon as she felt the tip slip through the folds of her slit, Audrey used her hands to guide him the rest of the way. Raising her head to brush the hair from her eyes and smile at him, she pressed until she felt his balls bump her vestibule and the entire shaft come to rest in the warm sheath of her vagina. He was all in there now and she felt wonderful.
"Try to stay awake, huh?" Blaine quipped, referring to the lateness of the hour. "If you fall off, baby, it's a long way down, remember. On second thought, I can probably catch you, so stop worrying."
"Who's worrying?"
Audrey, planting her palms on a big male chest, squeezed his thighs with hers to make his cock fill her even better, and began to move. She bobbed and swayed, twisted and bucked. For fifteen hectic minutes she worked. She did everything to Blaine's poor penis except pull it out by the roots, but he never uttered a syllable of complaint. All she heard from him, in between her own pleasure sounds, were grunts of animal satisfaction as she brought them both off twice.
Her first orgasm was supremely satisfying because she could control both the depth of penetration and the speed at which she was stimulated. But the second was so powerful it nearly made her cry. She would have fainted from the intensity of the sensations had Blaine not grabbed her breasts and twisted, evoking more pain than pleasure but at least jolting her back to a conscious state. When it was over, Audrey slumped on top of him in weary satiety.
"Hey, you really went off the deep end that time, didn't you?" he remarked, and stroked her face and hair until she was calm again. "It must have been the scotch. Hell, one ordinary, junior-sized flagpole couldn't do that to a woman like you. Yes, it must have been the scotch."
Audrey knew it wasn't the scotch, but she was too tired to tell him. They dozed and rested for an hour, then, when they reached out for one another again, it was almost like the first time all over again. She kissed him and he kissed her back. She returned for another kiss, and this time her lips parted. In the surrender of her tongue, she gave him a sample of what awaited him. On a bed beginning to be damp with their perspiration, she turned slightly to catch his hand and hold it to one of her breasts. It was a token of her gift to him.
Blaine couldn't stop himself from sliding a hand along her thigh to the warmth between her legs. Audrey proved her eagerness by raising one of her legs so that he could feel the swell of womanhood that hungered for him. By now she knew the kind of persuasion that aroused him, and she squirmed and writhed to show her need for another fucking.
Marsh sucked in his breath and his teeth began to chatter. But at least he was getting hard again. His soft prick was swelling with new life, his balls drawing up tight. "God, but I don't know if I could stand being married to you or not," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're hotter than a steak on a griddle tonight." He looked at his watch. "This morning."
"I'm not ready to be married," Audrey told him. "You're not, either. Let's not think about tomorrow. Let's live for tonight. Please, Blaine."
He grinned wryly. "You just want to fuck away your graduation blues, even if it kills ol' Blaine. Okay, we'll fuck."
Burying his face in her breasts, he nuzzled the nipples until they erected again. Then he took each one into his mouth and raked it across the roof, applying a slight suction. The nipples swelled until his tongue could barely cover them. Gnawing the rubbery buds, he made her twitch and toss with each nibble while his hands held her from behind, intensifying the caress many times over.
Audrey flopped across the bed, offering her moistening pussy to him. The offering, for now, was ignored. "Blaine! Blaine, please!" she moaned. "Don't make me have to wait! I want you now!"
Marsh took away one of his hands and slipped it between her thighs and into her cunt. The lips were blazing hot, slippery with secretion. Stroking a few times, avoiding the supersensitive clitoral shaft, he conceded that she probably did. "But sometimes we have to wait, sweetie. I'm not nearly as fast with a prick at two in the morning. Fact."
She clutched at the hand, trying to keep it pressed against her cunt. "Blaine, must you be so prissy? All I want is a-a-"
"A good man with a cock attached. I know. I've heard the line before."
"Fuck me, you monster, fuck me!" Audrey groaned. She reached out and seized him by the penis, squeezing hard enough to bring his erection to a glorious head. "Unless you want me to tell daddy you drugged me and made me go to a hotel with you." She expected a reaction and got it. Blaine pushed her flat and leaped astride her, placing one leg atop each of hers.
"I believe you would, baby, I believe you would," he panted, and crooked her legs one after the other, preparing her to receive his giant prick all over again. "If it's cock you want, it's cock I've got. I'll make you fly, I'll make you swoon, I'll even make you sorry you begged for this." Marsh balanced himself on both knees and a hand, using the other to guide just the head of his tool inside her cunt.
Audrey bit back an explanation. Due to prior stretching, her vagina was more sensitive than when they first began, almost unbearably so. She dug her nails into Blaine's shoulders and let him find his own way. He thrust into her with insolent slowness, exciting both her and himself. The walls of her vagina strained to accommodate him but less than on the two former occasions.
Finally he made his chest brush the nipples of her breasts and his lips scorch a message into her lips.
"How about it? Aren't I the best-hung hotel stud in twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight states?"
"Ask me again in a couple of years," she said between clenched teeth. "Then I'll have a better basis for comparison."
"Suit yourself, honey."
Marsh thrust a few times and made her move with him. When she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked them, they found a rhythm which carried them at roughly the same rate up a common ascent. Blaine's breath became a raspy pant, hers an answering pant spaced a split second apart. The bed began to squeak and toss beneath them.
Audrey felt the tremors ignite in her pussy and spread wave-like to her breasts and her brain, where they exploded in a white-hot conflagration that nearly set her afire. She drummed her fists on Blaine's back, her heels on his buttocks. "Harder!" she trilled. "Fuck me harder!"
He slammed into her more recklessly until the spasms had passed and she went limp underneath him. Then he resumed a more deliberate pace, applying his prick in a circular, screwing motion which rebuilt her own excitement without carrying him over the brink. The air-conditioning cooled their perspiring bodies just enough to keep them going, although they still labored in a pool of wetness.
Her second orgasm was much longer in coming and several times more intense. Audrey thought she'd tie herself in knots from sheer sexual frenzy. Blaine weighed at least sixty pounds more, but he was hard put to hold her down. During her third and final ascent she forgot where they were and screamed, startling him into a hasty completion of the act. Hurriedly, he ejaculated and pulled out, scrambling down off the bed to snatch up his pants.
"Now look what you've done!" he mourned. "Now I won't get a minute's sleep. I'll have to go into the bathroom. If hotel security comes knocking, you better tell 'em you had a nightmare."
Laughing uncontrollably but sobered, too, Audrey pulled the sheets up around her and listened for sounds in the hall-running footsteps or excited female guests. When five minutes passed and no one knocked, she called out to Blaine that all was well. He couldn't hear her because he was busy running the water in the shower.
When he came out, she was fast asleep, still with the sheets pulled up almost to her ears.
CHAPTER TWO
The city looked and smelled the same as always to Audrey as she turned her Cutlass off the highway and headed toward the downtown business district. She was glad she'd timed her departure to arrive at three o'clock rather than an hour later, when the traffic would be murder, or two hours later, when it would be suicide.
She'd been brought up in a hotel in the heart of the city, and could never understand why thousands of people insisted on driving their cars to and from work every day when there was a perfectly good transit system they could use instead. She hadn't thought about that for a long time, through all the years of college, but now that she was back home, the old familiar thoughts were returning.
There had been enough trips home to see her father that she didn't notice any real changes in the city. A building that had been under construction was occupied now. Another that had been in use the last time she saw it was now a hole in the ground, with workmen swarming as they prepared to erect another steel-and-concrete giant.
As for the hotel, the North Shamrock ... Audrey stared as she rounded the corner. There were no changes at all, she noticed in relief. She slipped into the driveway and left the car for a porter to remove her bags and park. Her green Cutlass was a familiar sight to the staff and employees of the North Shamrock.
The hotel was a way of life with her and she was returning to it easily. She'd first seen the North Shamrock when she was five days old. Her mother hadn't come back from the hospital. The body had gone straight to a funeral parlor. Mother was a word she never really learned to understand. Father, though, was something else. The love she would have given to two parents was all showered on her father. Amos North played both roles with equal facility. When she was young and it was really a mother she needed, he was always there.
They lived in a suite in the hotel, and to Audrey, that was the only home there was. There were maids to do the work and look after her while her father was busy, but mostly there was Amos himself, leaving others to run the hotel while he sepnt time with his daughter.
By the time she was twelve, Audrey had the poise and maturity of a girl in her late teens. And yet, there wasn't a trace of the precocious in her. Without once having to punish her, Amos North saw to that. She had grace and charm and wit, despite the fact that her father made a point of not keeping her wrapped and protected from life. She went to the same school as the rest of the downtown kids, she had all the friends she wanted, visited them and had them visit her, but there was no fear that her sense of values would be damaged.
The values had been firmly implanted right from infancy, and father was confident. When other girls dressed or acted rebelliously, Audrey respected their right to do so, but she chose not to go along. And when some of the less informed ones spread wild tales about the terrible things that happen to the female body at puberty, Audrey was able to laugh at their crazy stories and tell them the factual story of the biology of the female.
Her classmates couldn't understand how a girl without a mother could know so much, and sensed the loss was theirs. But they were forced to respect this strange girl who seemed so far beyond them, yet offered a warm, sincere friendship without ever looking down on them.
School was a breeze for Audrey. She liked it and excelled in it. The classwork, which her father helped her understand early in the game, was so simple to her that she couldn't understand why all the kids didn't get high marks. It was just that easy.
During high school, Audrey began to date. Again, her father made sure she was ready for that step. They had a lot of long, friendly talks, and Audrey came to know everything about the boy-girl things. She necked and enjoyed it, but she always knew when to stop, and when to make sure the boy stopped. Because she was a beauty even then-a ripe, auburn-haired seventeen year old-Audrey enjoyed her choice of boys, and selected the ones who were most intelligent and interesting rather than the football heroes or the hot-rod owners.
Before she went away to college, there was another long conversation between father and daughter. This time, Audrey sipped Sherry while her father drank bourbon and water. They talked of morality and college life, freedom and restraint. It was a good talk, one of their best ever. The next morning, Amos sent her to see the family doctor, who prescribed the pill, even though she didn't anticipate needing it in the forseeable future.
As it turned out, she didn't need the pill until she was almost twenty. There were lots of things in college to occupy her attention, so there was no need right away to join many of the young women she knew in dedicating her life to the pursuit of sexual pleasures.
When the others tried pot or LSD to "broaden their perception," Audrey ignored it. Her perception was broad enough, thank you, and worked more efficiently without artificial stimulation. While some of the girls called her stuffy and a prude, she laughed as she proved them wrong. Two fraternities voted her their sweetheart before she graduated. She dated often, and there was a veritable line-up of young males begging for dates. As in high school, she chose her dates on the basis of her interests and standards. Whatever she gave a young man, he had to earn first, and usually he didn't have the patience.
One young man who did have the patience received the ultimate prize of all: her virginity. On a warm spring night she checked into a hotel with Larry Hampshire, a senior speech major who wasn't the most muscular boy on campus but who realized the virtues of tact and diplomacy, especially when it came to getting a girl out of her panties and into a bed.
In the elevator on the way up, Audrey worried, the way young women always worry when they're about to take the ultimate step. Was Larry really the one? Could she give herself to him and not be disappointed? That first sexual experience, she'd always heard, was frequently a crusher-a heartbreaker.
Upstairs in their room, Larry ordered some drinks sent up. When they arrived, he rolled them inside himself, and locked the door. "What'll it be?" he asked, looking hungrily at her. "On the rocks, neat or mixed?"
"On the rocks," Audrey replied, and made her final decision while Larry's hands were flying with the scotch and the ice. When he brought the drink to her, she made him sit down beside her on the bed. This close to her, he could see how the tip of one breast dented the front of her gown. The rest was up to him.
Larry put his drink aside. He'd noticed. "Audrey, honey, we could be good for each other," he remarked, as if he'd never thought of the possibility before.
She quivered. He was stroking her bare side through the gown's cut-outs, but he'd made no move to kiss her. Gradually he worked his palm toward her breasts as he moved over the smoothness of her ribs. The heel of his hand pushed the front of her dress aside, allowing him to caress her left breast.
"Darling," Audrey whispered, because she had to think of her deflowerer as darling, even if she didn't love him.
He covered her mouth with his and turned his hand. Fingers and palm slid under her dress front. Larry, for all his caution, found a wealth of warmth and softness there. "Baby," he said softly. "Baby ... I'm going to give you what you want. Just trust me."
"Yes! Yes, give it to me!"
When he plucked at the swelling nipple, she detected the response of her own flesh in answer to the call of his. Larry teased her, discovering the solid core of her breast and skillfully moving the nipple. Audrey moaned. She'd gone this far with boys before, many times. But this time was different. This time there'd be no stopping.
They continued to kiss, and her tongue sought his. The other tongue replied. Larry drew both breasts out of her dress and fondled them vigorously, kissing the tips until they were rigid. He was breathing very fast and hard now, like a race horse in the stretch.
She let her skirt climb over her knees. The curve of her nylon-covered calves, she hoped, would suggest that the rest of her legs might be just as exciting. Larry promptly moved his hand from her breast to her knee. He stroked down her leg and back again, repeating the caress until she began to tingle pleasantly.
The tops of her stockings were in view now, and above them, the straps of her garter belt pressing into beautifully molded white flesh. He ran a hand there and squeezed rhythmically as they pressed their mouths together. Audrey extended a hand to the bulge in Larry's trousers. She'd touched boys there before, but only in a general kind of way-letting her hand rest there for a few seconds or lightly stroking until the boy came off from sheer excitement. This time she took firm hold of a hard penis, and squeezed.
Larry began to breathe in noisy pants. "That's it, baby! Do whatever you want! Don't be ashamed! It's all perfectly natural!"
He moved his caress to the inner surfaces of her legs, and her response became increasingly eager. He advanced a little at a time, gauging her reactions and proceeding just a little slower than she would have liked, sharpening her desire with an edge of frustration. She shuddered when at last he reached the smoothly stretched panties.
"Oh, Larry, you are nice to me, darling!" she moaned.
By now, the strain on Larry seemed to be as great as the strain on her. The bulge in his pants was twice as large and his face was flushed a bright red, even though he'd barely touched the alcohol. Pausing to snatch up the drink, Hampshire drained it in two swallows. Then he found his way around the edge of her panties, working the cloth to one side while he kissed her breasts.
In a few minutes Audrey was completely ready, so wet with sexual lubricant that the panties were soaked. She squirmed and shook as he played with her, clinging to his shoulders and returning his kisses with a fervor she didn't have to fake. Again and again she called Larry's name, as though she knew she'd have to remember it forever, and wanted to imprint it on her mind. She made him stop for a few seconds so she could take off her panties and give him greater access to her. Then she lay back to let him do whatever he wanted.
"Good pussy," Larry panted. He went looking for her clitoris, and found it, laying a finger alongside the clitoral shaft and making it vibrate. "Good, sweet pussy."
Audrey shivered and closed her eyes, but she loved the sound of "pussy." After a few minutes, however, she could take no more excitation. She had to rest. She pushed his hand away and leaned against him, her teeth chattering. "God, Larry, this is already more than I ... I don't know whether I can take it or not."
Larry's eyes gleamed with a strange new light. He licked his lips. "You can, honey. Believe me, you can. I'll help you."
She smiled at him, relieved, confident that he would know just what to do and when to do it.
"Take me out," he suggested. "I want you to look at it."
"What?"
"You heard me."
With shaking hands, Audrey found the tab of Larry's zipper, and pulled. Then she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his waistband. With a little help from him, she even tugged his shorts off his hips and down his thighs, rolling them off his feet the way he'd rolled the panties off hers.
Hampshire laughed delightedly when his prick popped free from her efforts alone. By mysterious muscle control, he made the thing twitch for her a few times. "Let me introduce you to...." he began, and made her smile. But he lunged suddenly and grabbed her head.
Audrey panicked, sure that he was about to make her kiss or even suck it. "No!" She tried to fight free of him, to pound him with her fists and to knee him. When she was about to bring a spike heel down on his bare arm, he picked her up in his arms and flung her, face down, on the bed. Then he caught her ankles and pulled off her shoes while the gown flew up her naked legs.
Now she had a new fear: he'd take her without benefit of contraception. "No, no!" Audrey scratched at Larry's face and eyes.
Hampshire swore, and held her arms. "Audrey, you little idiot, do you want to bring someone up here?" he hissed at her.
"Yes!" she sobbed. "I don't want to be raped like a-a street slut!"
He laughed and released her. "You're no street slut. And I'm not going to rape you. I am going to bust your cherry, but that's something else."
When he put his mouth to hers again, she continued to struggle, yet she didn't turn her face away. She twitched and trembled as the exploring fingers became bolder, proceeding right past the hymen itself, which was apparently too tough and elastic to be broken by a digit. He was right. She did want him. Perhaps in her mind she didn't, but with her eager young body she did. But she remembered that she hadn't taken her pill in more than a month.
"You've got to use something! I mean it!"
Larry stared at her. "But you said you're on the pill. You told me yourself."
"I-I forget to take them."
"Well, Christ!" Hampshire jumped up and took something from his wallet, going into the bathroom with it. When he came out, he had a latex object wrapped around the head and shaft of his organ.
"They're not the greatest protection in the world and they kinda deaden things, but they're better than nothing. Yes, sir."
Audrey tore her eyes off the unsightly device.
"Let me take off your dress," Larry urged. "You won't have to do a thing. Think of the pleasure, Audrey, baby. Think of how good I'll be for you. This really isn't as earth-shaking as it may seem. We aren't scared a bit, are we?" Keeping up the patter, he came toward her, eyes aglint with purpose. His penis wasn't particularly large, but to an uninitiated girl, it seemed enormous.
She backed away. "I've changed my mind. Don't touch me."
Larry chuckled. "Oh, I'm going to touch you all right. Yes, indeed. Just leave everything to the good doctor. He knows what to do."
Gradually her struggles weakened. She found that he was controlling her without difficulty. When at last she stopped fighting, she couldn't seem to keep her knees from trembling. She stood there with her underwear at her knees and her gown up about her waist, enduring every exciting stroke he gave her. She was quivering and ready.
"Are you sure it won't break?" Audrey fretted, gazing at the condom. "Are you sure you locked the door? Are you sure they don't know we're not-"
"I'm sure," Hampshire laughed. "As sure as I am that every woman in this building over eighteen has already done what you're about to do. So let's get on with it, huh?"
She slowly nodded her head, realizing that she would respect neither him nor herself if she didn't go through with it. "Let's."
He helped her pull the gown over her head. This left her in just her bra. Larry unhooked it and pulled it away. Audrey saw herself in a closet door mirror, and her mouth gaped. She was like a stark naked doll-a beautiful, rounded, lust-swollen doll. That she made a memorable impression was probably an understatement. Her skin under a head of red-auburn hair was milky white, her nipples large and erect.
Pausing to tug the condom further up his prick, Larry pulled her to him. He thrust his hardon against her belly, seizing her plump buttocks, one in each palm. He began to squeeze and knead the spongy flesh, grinding his cock into her all the while. When he went looking for her lips, their heads bumped, that's how out of sync they were. But he found her mouth, and she parted her lips so he could french her while he squeezed her buttocks.
Jammed together in a strange hotel room, they excited one another for five, ten, fifteen minutes. When the tension became too much to endure, when the sexual signals in her brain cried out for satisfaction, Audrey put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "If you're going to do it, then do it! I can't stand this any longer!"
With a triumphant, smile, Larry stooped and picked her up, slinging her across his back and tottering across the room with her. He laid her across the bed and climbed up after her. "You want me to be on top, I hope. I mean, I have no preference one way or the other. But since it's your first time, I figure-"
"Yes. But stop talking and do it." She closed her eyes and spread her legs in prescribed, marriage-manual fashion.
He got on top of her, positioned his knees between hers and grasped her around the waist. "Okay, baby, here it comes, ready or not."
Audrey felt nothing at first, just a hand probing gently at her cunt. Then a hard bluntness parted the tender lips and stabbed inside. She instinctively drew back, but there was nowhere to go. She cried out then, because the pain was sharp and unmistakable. She'd been deflowered for all time. Audrey bit her lip and gripped the sheet tightly as the invading organ inched its way inside her. Finally he had to stop. She'd accepted all she could.
"Huge!" she whimpered, flailing her legs.
Larry laughed. "But nice, isn't it? Maybe not this time, I'll grant you. Next time and all the times after that, though, you'll think of me and you'll be glad we fucked. I promise you." Without warning her, he gripped her thighs and drove himself deeper inside her.
Audrey cried out, sure that she would be permanently injured from this colossal male muscle in a passageway several times too small for it. At the same time, it was the most exciting, the most exhilarating thing she'd ever experienced. Since the damage was now done, she resolved to relax and enjoy herself as much as possible.
"Better, isn't it?" Larry panted, stopping a few seconds for control's sake. He didn't have to tell her he'd never been in a tighter pussy-it was evident from the desperate, incredulous look on his face. "Good-thing-we-use-rubber!" he choked.
She raised her legs a little more, not wrapping them around his waist the way she'd later learn to do, just trying to ease the throbbing in her cunt. Taking the movement for cooperation, Larry began to move. He thrust in and out of her so rapidly she couldn't even keep up with the stimulation, much less respond to it. But she knew he sincerely wanted to give her his best, and so she didn't mind the battering she was getting.
Despite the discomfort, despite the painful amount of friction in a channel which wasn't accustomed to it, she climaxed for the first time in her life with a man's sexual organ inside her. The spasms racked her body for more than a minute, leaving her a little numb down below. At almost the same instant, Larry filled the condom's end with hot sperm, thrashing out possibly the most intense orgasm of his life. His face, when he looked at her again and made his eyes focus, was dazed and a great deal more respectful.
"Best," he croaked. "Best pussy I ever had! Glad-you save it for me!"
Audrey felt proud, reckless and disdainful, all at the same time. To think, she thought, an otherwise self-reliant male can be reduced to this by the thing between his legs. "Is this all? Can you do it again?" Larry's answering laugh sounded a little hysterical, even to her ears.
"Can I do it again? Baby, you better believe I can do it again! I'll fuck you until my tongue hangs out and my pecker's worn down to a nub! Then, by God, I'll fuck you some more!"
"Then do it."
She closed her eyes and arched her back so that he came at her from a better angle, although it really didn't matter now-she could hardly feel a thing in her vagina or clitoris. Nonetheless, she climaxed twice more before Larry, muttering something about "busting the damn thing," pulled out to empty the condom. He was still hard as a rock and eager for her, so she overcame her misgivings and let him in again, this time without the rubber. She knew enough about "sperm count" and "natural alkalinity" to realize that her chances of getting pregnant at this point were very slim.
At two in the morning Larry's long-running hard-on failed him and he rolled down off her to fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Audrey covered him with a sheet and stumbled into the bathroom to wash away the perspiration and the stickiness between her legs. She gazed at herself in the mirror when she came out, and saw a new person there-a woman.
During the college vacation, when she was visiting home, Audrey received the first really big shock of her life. A family friend, in a moment of confidence, told her how her father had so desperately wanted a son who would take over the hotel from him when he became too old and tired to go on. Audrey managed to mask her feelings, but the revelation hit hard. Amos North had given her so much love, had done so much for her, she thought, and she had failed to see his real need.
With only one term to go to complete an arts degree, it was unthinkable that she should abandon it to switch to a curriculum in hotel administration, but she did just that. Her father was stunned when she broke the news to him, but although he tried to talk her into completing the requirements for a B.A., she was adamant. Through his protests, Audrey saw the gleam of happiness, and that was more reward than she needed.
And now the days of studying were over, and she was walking into the hotel. For the first time in her life, she saw it as a thing that belonged to her, rather than she to it. All the things she'd learned during college, and during summer vacation when she worked in the hotel as a manager trainee, came flooding into her mind as she entered the lobby and walked toward the desk.
"Audrey!" exclaimed a silver-haired man behind the registration clerk. "Audrey, baby! Welcome home! You don't have to tell me you passed your exams, sweetheart! I can see it on your face!"
She held out her arms to her father and let him hug and kiss her to his heart's content. "Yes, Dad. I passed and I'm home to stay."
"Well, come back in the office and tell me about it!" Amos North beamed, flinging an arm around her shoulder. "On second thought, let's go into the bar. I guess we're equal partners now. We may as well drink like it."
CHAPTER THREE
Audrey had been in her father's hotel for less than a day before she ran into a problem that hadn't been included in her college curriculum: Frank Grimes, the black-haired, beetle-browed assistant manager. Grimes seemed to resent her very presence at the North Shamrock. Oh, he was outwardly courteous, inviting her to call upon him if she needed information or assistance, but she got the impression he didn't mean it. She felt his brooding stare on her the minute she turned her back. It made her shiver.
She gave Grimes only passing thought for the first week, becoming absorbed in a study of the hotel's books from previous years. Accounting had been her minor in the hotel administration curriculum. Certain expenses, notably linen laundering, seemed to be rising out of proportion to trade, which puzzled her. Audrey mentioned this to her father, but Amos North shrugged it off.
"Convention business is up, my dear. You must have seen the figures. The bar and the dining room do more trade, too."
"But, Daddy, business was up last year only six percent over the year before!" she protested. "Linen laundering expenses were up fourteen per cent! Someone could be robbing us blind!"
Her father laughed, but he looked thoughtful, too. "I'm sorry, but I can't buy it. The someone would have to be Frank or John Kelso, the night manager. Besides, the convention trade expects cleaner sheets and pillowcases. I guess we launder them more often."
"But you don't mind if I snoop around for a while, do you?"
Amos North patted his daughter's shoulder. "You're my partner now. Of course not."
For almost a week, Audrey played detective. During the evening, she would spend a lot of time in the dining room, sitting at a table and pretending to read while she kept an eye on the lobby. Each night she would count the number of people who checked in, and having studied the layout of the keyboard, was able to spot, even from that distance, the rooms that had been assigned. Each morning she would hurry to check the register. Without exception, John Kelso's count tallied. A later check on billing also produced no discrepancies.
She finally realized that, working alone, there wasn't a way for John to be taking a rake-off. True, he booked in a lot of people during the night, but in almost every case, they checked out during the day. There would have to be a bill and they would have to pay it to the day cashier. Audrey somehow couldn't see John Kelso, a modest, self-effacing man with thinning brown hair, having the organizational ability to set up a complicated deal with a fellow conspirator on the day shift. It wasn't that she considered John stupid, he just didn't seem to be the type who could be so devious.
She resisted the urge to write him off as a suspect, and went on snooping. On the afternoon of John's night off, an overcast and slightly drizzly day which permitted her to wear a trenchcoat and hat, she set up a stakeout from which she could watch the apartment building where he stayed. When Kelso came out, she trailed him to a bar at the other end of the block.
He stayed inside for five minutes, so she fetched her car from an alley and parked near the bar to wait. For a man who was supposed to be on the wagon, John Kelso stayed inside the bar for a long time. When she checked her watch, Audrey was amazed to discover that she'd been sitting there for more than two hours.
Cramped from having sat in the car for so long, she got out and prepared to walk for a while. The rain began to come down harder a few minutes later, however, and she dashed back to the car. With twilight setting in, she realized-now-why the neighborhood would be avoided by unescorted women. Many doorways were dimly lit, and the sidewalks were beginning to crawl with the city's rougher element.
As she poked her keys into the steering wheel's ignition slot, the most terrifying experience of her life commenced.-The instant the door clicked shut, a strong hand closed over her mouth. Another arm wrapped around her and she felt something pressing against her ribs. Whether it was a knife or a gun really didn't matter. Either way, it meant trouble.
"Move over, honey," a cold, flat voice advised. "Do it now. Don't think about it, just do it."
Thoroughly frightened, Audrey slid across the seat to the passenger side. Through the car's rear-view mirror, she caught a glimpse of a face, but the face was covered by a stocking. Its owner made no move to get under the wheel, merely rapping on the side-glass with a blunt object. Within a few seconds, someone else-also wearing a stocking, in addition to rubber gloves-got in to crank the car. Because she knew she wasn't supposed to, Audrey didn't try to look at either man.
She had visions, sickening visions, of being driven out into the country, raped and shot, but the car turned up the first alley. When it stopped, she was blindfolded with a handkerchief and tied up with stocking. Then the car began to move again, and after the first dozen turns-she realized they were trying to confuse her-she had no idea where they were, how many men were involved, or who they were, only that she'd made a serious mistake in underestimating John Kelso. He'd set her up in almost routine fashion.
The sense of motion stopped abruptly a few minutes later, and she assumed they were in a warehouse or under a bridge-anywhere the police weren't likely to find them. She was hauled from the car like a sack of potatoes, thrown down on a hard mat of some kind and....
They were rough as they stripped her clothes off. In outrage and disbelief, she wondered how so few men-there couldn't be more than three of them-could have so many hands. While she still had her clothes on, some of those hands had tied a blindfold around her eyes. Now those hands and others were squeezing and pulling at her through her bra, panties and nylons. Other hands were rubbing bare skin where they could find it.
Her bra came off first, and she heard the muffled exclamations of lewd admiration. The men scuffled to get at the smooth, firm beauties-she could hear shoes scraping the floor, palms slapping at elbows. Audrey felt her body betray her as the tips of her breasts grew big and firm under the continued stimulation. One man got one of the mounds all to himself. She felt a mouth close wetly around it. Audrey held her breath as she waited for the teeth to hurt her, but they didn't. She began to hope that she would live through this nightmare after all. "Are-are you going to kill me?" she quavered. "Only with kindness, baby," one of the men quipped, and the others laughed.
"You just don't touch that blindfold, and we'll turn you loose in a little while," another man advised. "If you take it off, you're a dead chickadee. That would be a shame, now wouldn't it?"
Audrey sensed that it was the owner of this voice whose hand was stroking the bottom slope of her panties and the smooth skin below. But there were hands inside her panties, too. Soon the panties were down around her feet. They played with her for a long time and they she was pushed flat on the mat. All that had happened so far was play, she knew. Now the real thing was about to begin.
"Be a good baby now!" someone hissed in her ear. "Lover boy's going to give you his special treatment."
Audrey felt her thighs being raised and parted, and knew it would be useless, or worse, to resist. She felt an unshaved face scrape her sensitive inner thighs and then a mouth descend on her clitoris. She went rigid, stifling a cry. The owner of the tongue knew exactly what to do to drive a woman wild, and he was doing it.
But she felt movement above her as well, and that wasn't right. A moment later, something warm and stiff brushed lightly across her face until it reached her lips. The something was a penis. . "Take it, baby," its owner commanded.
Audrey turned her face away in silent protest.
"One way or another, you're gonna do it, baby," the voice persisted. "I can rough you up first if you like. I'd love to rough you up."
She began to quake, because she knew he meant it.
"Last chance, baby. Do it now. When the boys are finished with you, you'll be begging for it."
Audrey got the message. When the penis came close again, she parted her lips wide. She couldn't see it, but she knew the cock was big and urgent and demanding. She accepted as much of it as she could, and he began to move in and out of her as though her mouth were a cunt. Meanwhile, seemingly miles below, another man was eating her slit with unfeigned gusto. He brought her to the very edge of orgasm, but somehow she couldn't come.
The prick in her mouth began to move with increasing rapidity and she began to gag. She tried to turn away from the spurting liquid, but this had been anticipated. Strong hands held her face while the prick's owner forced himself deeper and deeper.
There was no escape. But finally he was finished and withdrew.
"Real good, baby," he told her in a strained voice. "You do it like a real pro."
Audrey was still gagging when she felt the mouth leave her slit. Someone was kneeling between her thighs before she had time to adjust. She felt urgent maleness probe until it found the well-prepared entrance. A penis nearly the size of Blaine Marsh's rammed into her vagina.
She felt his weight heavy on her as he began to stroke. Around the first one, others called words of encouragement and urged him to hurry. He hurried, and it was soon over. As soon as he moved off her, another man took his place and it began to happen all over again. When the second man finished, there was another ready and anxious to have her, too. With neither of the others impatient for their turn, he took his time, dragging the act out for as long as he could before finally gasping and pressing his body against hers in completion.
They left her alone then, and Audrey hoped it was over. There was a whispered argument which she knew was vital to her, but she couldn't make out the words. Something told her they were trying to decide whether or not to let her go. She found herself wishing she knew how to pray.
"Okay, baby, slip into this and let's get going," one of them growled, and dropped her dress in her lap.
Still blindfolded but with her hands and feet no longer bound with stockings, Audrey struggled back into her clothing. She put the panties on backward but the dress on straight. The garter belt and nylons gave her the most trouble, and one of the men cursed her for being so slow, but finally she could put her feet back inside her shoes and stand up, trembling but no longer afraid. Other than kill her, there wasn't much more they could do to her at this point.
Grabbing her arms roughly, they led her back to the car, putting her into the passenger side of the front seat. She knew it was the front seat because the door was wider than the rear door. Other doors were opened, the car's springs sank, the doors slammed. When an awful grating reached her ears, Audrey realized that one of the men was opening the warehouse's door.
A few seconds later, the car began to move, stopping to wait for the last man, then speeding away at a very fast rate. The ordeal was over. The car had been in motion for three or four minutes, she guessed, again with a bewildering number of turns, when it slowed to a stop.
"Leave that blindfold on for two minutes, baby," one of the men warned. "Then split. Oh, yeah, the reason for all this. You don't mind your own business very well. It ain't healthy. It ain't healthy at all. A bad habit. If I were you, I'd do something about it."
With that, doors opened and slammed, fading away to silence. Audrey sensed that she was alone in the car now, safe again. Without waiting for the two minutes to pass, she tore the blindfold off, threw herself behind the wheel, and left scorching rubber on the pavement.
In time, she found a street she recognized, turned into it with tires screaming, and drove back toward the hotel, her mouth a thin, tight line of remorse. The wheel was damp in her hands and her body felt dirty through and through. She needed to get back to the hotel and soak for hours in a hot tub.
Her mind overflowed with the ugly imagery of what had happened to her. It was difficult to concentrate on her driving. The evening traffic was heavy now, and it would have been easy to roll through a traffic light. Another driver moving fast and unable to stop on the wet pavement would crash into her and end all the ugliness. As tempting as it was, as compelling in its attractiveness, Audrey fought it, slowing until she had full control of the car.
And then the lights of the hotel loomed ahead, beacons of safety. She reduced speed and guided the car into the entrance. Leaving it double parked, with the keys in the ignition, she tumbled out of it and ran into the lobby, thankful that there weren't many people around to see the soiled, disheveled state of her clothing.
Alone on an elevator, she punched the button for her second-floor room and gave herself up to angry tears.
When she awoke the next morning, Audrey was exhausted after a restless night of very little sleep. The feeling of physical dirtiness had passed, but the mental scars were just forming. After another bath and a breakfast she barely touched, she phoned the hotel doctor, making a confession over the lines that she didn't want to blurt out to his face. He ordered her to come to his office immediately.
She went. The doctor scolded her for not reporting the attack to the police, but on the whole his attitude was brisk, even matter-of-fact. After treating her to insure that there would be no after effects of the experience, he assured her that there was nothing physical to worry about.
Audrey thanked him. "But to tell the truth, it's the mental thing that worries me," she added haltingly. "I know I can be frank with you. I've enjoyed good, healthy sex for almost four years now. Suddenly ... suddenly I'm afraid of it."
The doctor clucked. "That's not surprising. What I'm going to tell you may sound like strange advice from someone in the medical profession, but I'll give it to you anyway."
Audrey leaned forward, curious. "Yes?"
"I prescribe the same treatment as in the case of a rider who falls from a horse. Do you know what I mean?"
She blushed. "Get back on again before mental blocks can form?"
The doctor nodded. "Exactly. You're a very beautiful young woman. I wish I were a younger man. Still, I'm sure you will be able to find a...." He paused and smiled. " ... willing volunteer. Just be sure he's someone you trust. Right now, trust is the thing."
Audrey bowed her head. "Thank you, doctor. I'll ... think about it."
For the rest of the day, she thought about it, pushing John Kelso and the hotel's tangled finances to the back of her mind. Finally she made a decision. Blaine Marsh might be more than a graduation-night fling-he might be therapy for her bruised soul. Blaine was breaking in as assistant manager At a small upstate hotel. He and she had promised to get together again at some future date, but she thought he might be glad to see her again sooner.
Audrey consulted her father and was granted a few days leave.
Over drinks the next day in the bar of a strange hotel, Audrey told Blaine about her experience, the visit to the doctor and the latter's surprising advice. Blaine, blue eyes intent, was filled with sympathy at the outset, but toward the end, he joined her in laughter.
"Son of a gun," he commented. "I want that guy for my family doctor."
"You don't think I'd let him go, do you?" she retorted, looking boldly at him.
"I'm glad you didn't follow through on his other suggestion, though," Marsh went on. "But I'd have given anything to watch the old quack if you'd laid it out on the examining table and said, 'Okay, doc, come and get it.' "
Audrey laughed, although the idea made her uncomfortable. "I didn't drive two hundred miles to talk about him. It's you I'm interested in."
Blaine grinned. "Just wait till we have some dinner and get to the hotel. Then you can explain what you mean by that."
Because it seemed like such a good idea, they finished their drinks and went to eat. During the meal, Blaine phoned a friend who worked at another hotel, and under the hotelmen's unofficial code, arranged that a nice room would be ready and fully equipped with scotch and soda on their arrival.
After leaving the restaurant, they went straight to the hotel. Their whole approach to the evening had been so honest that to suggest a nightclub or discotheque never occurred to either of them. When they reached the elevator, Blaine gave the bellhop his tip and took Audrey's bag with him. Marsh explained with a wink that he didn't want to waste time in the room watching the boy check everything in the place to earn a bigger tip.
For Audrey, the evening really began when, after a few sips of his drink, he slid an arm around her waist. She thrilled at the gentle pressure and knew he would guide them into sex easily and naturally. The ordeal in the warehouse would soon be only a vague shadow on the horizon of her memory.
She decided to let him set the pace all the way. He would seduce her and she would love it. It was wonderful confirmation that in Blaine Marsh, a classmate, she'd selected the perfect man for a very important job-that of healing her mind by loving her body.
It began so smoothly that even while she waited for it to begin, it commenced. Blaine continued to chat and to sip at his drink, and still slipped a hand inside the front of her dress to caress the warm mounds of her breasts. The hand plucked and squeezed until each nipple stirred to eager life.
A minute later, she felt the other hand-a strong, brown hand she could see, a familiar hand-rove up her thigh and under her dress, toying with the expanded top of a nylon, moving over the sensitive skin below.
"Oh, Blaine!" she cried softly, trembling in his grasp. "Please heal me! Make me whole again!"
"Don't try to talk," he soothed. "Just let our bodies do our talking for us."
Already, even though still fully dressed, she was more than ready to make love. The lips of her cunt were moist and her whole body seemed to throb with desire. The North Shambrock's finances didn't trouble her now. She was just a woman being seduced by a skilled lover, and she savored every shiver, every tingle.
At exactly the right moment, Blaine put his drink down and she followed suit. He drew her into his arms and ground his mouth against hers. When she parted her lips, he thrust in a tongue and began to lash it back and forth across the roof of her mouth, exciting both of them. While he trenched her, his hands were busy elsewhere: one inside the cups of her bra, where he fondled her nipples until they were tight little knots of need; the other between her thighs, where he was burrowing under the edge of her panties to the steaming warmth beyond.
Gradually, he drew her down onto the bed with his face still pressed to hers. As she sank down, Audrey drew up her knees so that her dress fell back, exposing luscious thighs to his gaze and his touch. Blaine, feeling more bare skin than before, took his mouth away to look at her. He was breathing faster now and his color under the ash-blond hair was ruddy-red.
"Wow," he breathed, licking his lips. "Double-wow and triple-wow. Don't move, just look in that mirror over there. You'll see the sight I'm enjoying."
Audrey made her eyes focus and gazed into the mirror. She was delighted at what she saw. Her feet and shapely legs were poised on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror. Below her white panties, the curves of her thighs fanned out to the tops of her nylons.
"A little wider, please," Marsh coaxed, speaking in a whisper.
Because it was Blaine asking, she obeyed instinctively. The view improved at once if your idea of beauty is a woman's intimate zone. As her thighs parted, the narrow strip of white panty revealed the swelling mystery of her bush and mound, below the latter a perfect cleft into which the fabric was sinking.
"Don't move!" Blaine urged, his voice hoarse. "I want you to see something else!"
She glanced at him to see what he meant, then she felt his hand on her. Excitement made it difficult for her to focus on the mirror, but she managed. Her eyes opened wide with delight when she saw the reflection of a strong, masculine hand on the back of her thigh, just above the crook of her knee. Audrey shivered with pleasure.
The hand moved slowly toward the top of her nylon. In its progress, it rubbed not just the back of her thigh, but the sides as well. At the top of her stocking, the hand lingered. She saw the almost imperceptible indentation of her flesh as he squeezed.
Audrey sighed, trembled and whispered encouragement as Blaine moved his hand until he ran out of thigh to fondle. He'd reached the crotch of her panties and a spot which was soaking wet. But he didn't try to touch her slit. Watching him in the mirror, she fidgeted, opening wider for him. She saw the waiting area of white silk clinging to the warmth of her. Blaine's fingers drew teasing lines close to the silk but never quite touched it.
"Now, Blaine, now!" she panted. "Touch me or I'll go out of my mind!"
Marsh chuckled, neither promising nor refusing. "Watch the hand, baby. Here it comes now. Look at the beautiful place it's going to touch. Watch."
On the hair-line edge of an orgasm, she watched the hand creep slowly closer as it moved up the inside of her thigh. Blaine's touch was so light, so powerfully erotic that she wanted to scream. And then she did smother a scream as the hand descended on the silken strip covering her mons and slit. For a moment, it touched lightly, then more firmly against her warm sensitivity.
Audrey closed her eyes and moaned. She didn't need to watch any more, she just wanted him inside her as soon as possible. "Enough-Blaine, that's enough!"
"Are you sure?" He rolled the fabric aside, placed his finger alongside her clitoris, and made both finger and clitoris vibrate together. "Now isn't this much better?"
Audrey convulsed and climaxed even as he was getting the words out. The orgasm was too shallow and passed too swiftly to satisfy her, but at least she knew Blaine could make her come again. He could drain away the tension and make her glad she was a woman again. "Yes," she sighed, slumping away from him. "Good."
Telling her to stay as she was, Marsh rolled off the bed on the far side and began undressing. In the mirror, Audrey watched him. She saw herself in a pose of resting languor, and at the same time, her man baring his body to join it with hers. The sight stirred her as nothing ever had in her life before. She felt alive and whole again.
Stark nude, he stood erect and smiled at her through the mirror. Audrey remembered the fun they'd had with Blaine's "flagpole," and smiled back. The flagpole was very much in evidence again-eight inches of turgid maleness protruding from the tawny growth below his waist.
"Does that mean I don't frighten you?" he inquired, making the thing jump a few times for her benefit. Marsh watched her face.
She shook her head. "I'm frightened, but it's not the way you think. It's a delicious kind of fright. I think it's called anticipation."
Blaine grinned in open relief. "Good girl." He came to the bed and stood beside it for a moment, his prick waving close to her face. On his face was a wordless request, an invitation to do something for him that she'd never done before.
Audrey shook her head because she wasn't ready to suck him so soon after another man had forced her to go down on him. Soon, perhaps, but not now. But she reached up for him to prove she wasn't afraid. Her hand closed gently around Blaine's cock in a loving caress. "I love him," she declared, and meant it. "Let's put him to bed, shall we?"
Blaine helped her up then, and together they removed her dress. In the haste of getting to him, she hadn't worn a slip. He pulled her back down on the bed and began unfastening her bra. There was no haste to his fingers, just normal male eagerness. He removed the bra one cup at a time. His hands and mouth vied with one another in greeting the twin melons of her breasts. The nipples were still erect from his fingering of her clitoris, and they responded instantly when he closed his hands over them.
For a long time, he trenched her mouth while squeezing her breasts, and the twin stimulation, coming from a man she loved and trusted, nearly set her afire with sexual need. Audrey wanted to tell him to hurry, but that meant taking her mouth away from his, and she had neither the strength nor the will for it. So she lay there and let him drive her slowly crazy.
Eventually, his lips began to move down her body while his hands left her breasts and went inside the soaking wet panties. Turning her head so that she could gaze into the mirror, Audrey saw him begin to roll the flimsy things down her warm thighs. She raised her legs to help him. For her, the erotic sensations were so great that she reached for the swollen mounds of her breasts and began to massage them frantically the way he had done.
Stripping her panties down her legs and off her feet, Blaine began to pant like a certain famous race horse, serving notice that he'd stopped fooling around. When she parted her thighs, his mouth was on her in an instant. Burrowing his palms under her buttocks, he sent his hungry tongue probing deeply into the moist warmth of her slit, tasting the sweet juices of her womanhood.
Audrey began to buck and toss. But despite her gyrations, Blaine never once allowed her to escape him. When he took her clitoris between his teeth and shook, she climaxed thunderously. When he felt the spasms take hold, he released her clitoris and reinserted his tongue into her cunt as far as he could get it, holding it there until the tremors had left her fevered body.
Marsh got up to stretch out beside her and catch his breath. "Tell me how that felt," he panted. "I've often wondered what women feel when guys eat their box. Some of 'em hate it, but most dolls, like you, lap it up, if you'll pardon the expression."
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed the lips that knew so how to thrill her. "It felt terrific!" she assured him. "Like Santa Clause, Easter and summer vacation all rolled into one. Like homemade fudge and ice cream-all you can eat until it runs out your ears. Like-oh, I just can't tell you. But I loved it, I can tell you that."
Blaine raised his head and peered at his prick, still straining toward the ceiling. "Careful," he cautioned. "You'll make him bust. Then where'll we be?"
"Put him in me!" Audrey begged, opening her thighs and raising her legs. "Don't wait another minute! Please, Blaine, put him in me!"
"Well, if you're going to hog-tie a guy...." Marsh rolled on top of her and settled between her thighs. There was no trouble finding the way; she was a wide gaping target oozing with moisture. He supported himself on one hand and used the other to guide his cock into the steaming slit designed for it, discovering a perfect fit.
She made sharp little cries to encourage him and wriggled to get still more of the wonderful organ in her vagina. "Ah, Blaine, but I love that! I love it, love it, love it! Don't ever take him out again!"
Marsh chuckled at the physiological impossibility, but he began to move. For twenty minutes he lunged and drove at her, now vigorously, with short, brutal thrusts, now more subtly, with long, deliberate thrusts alternated by a clockwise screwing motion.
Whether the thrusts were hard or soft, clockwise or in-and-out, Audrey thrilled to the sensations they gave her. Far from having her interest in sex quelled, she was turned on as never before. Her breasts flattened against Blaine's chest each time he lowered and sprang back out at him each time he raised. Her clitoris was so congested with blood it felt like a pickle between them. She began to climax almost continuously, the orgasms spaced a few seconds apart; the feeling was so awesome it frightened her. And still he hadn't come, although the agonized expression on his face told her he'd have to come soon or hurt himself.
Even as she prepared herself to receive a king-sized load, she wondered who he'd been giving it to before she called. No one, she hoped, even if that was too much to hope for. And then she had no more time in which to wonder, because he was slamming into her with a terrible urgency and she was coming one last time even as he shot off into her, gasping out a climax which left him pale, spent and weak.
"Caesar's wife!" he wheezed, flopping down beside her. "A man could kill himself with you, honey! But what a way to go! What a way to go!"
"You're not going anywhere," Audrey told him, surrendering to a languor more satisfying than sleep itself. "You're going to stay right here and give me another sample of that meat of yours as soon as I ask for it."
"Oh, yeah? I give the orders around here, baby!" Marsh growled, and startled her by pushing her roughly onto her back. He held her down with one hand and spanked with the other. Striking just hard enough to make her tingle, he delivered three brisk strokes to each firm cheek. "Is everything clear now?"
Audrey yelped and sat up to inspect the damage. "You brute!" she complained. "Look at my poor fanny! It's red as a barn door!"
"Two barn doors," Blaine corrected, grinning. He bent his head to kiss the crimson splotches, failing to make them go away but succeeding in making her feel better. Succeeding in something else, too: his prick was stirring to new life and in a few seconds might be ready for use again.
She eyed the welcome sight. "So that's how you do it. You get your jollies beating up poor, defenseless girls, and make yourself horny in the bargain. I should have known. You men are all alike."
"You've got it all wrong!" Marsh protested, laughing. "I turned you over so you'd remember your place, not because it gives me a sexual charge. Hell, I didn't enjoy myself any more than you did!"
Audrey pointed at his cock, which was almost hard again, and tried to look puzzled. "Then how do you explain that? Or is it a figment of our imaginations?"
Blaine dropped a hand between her thighs and wormed it past the lips of her cunt, palming her a few times until she trembled with new lust. "Oh, that," he shrugged. "Don't worry about him. I'll make him disappear in a few seconds. What you can't see can't hurt you, you know." He winked.
Audrey smiled doubtfully, contracting her thighs on the busy hand. "Is that a promise?"
"We'll make it one," Blaine promised, and moved toward her.
The "therapy" had been so successful, Audrey made plans to extend it for another day.
CHAPTER FOUR
As a first move in her investigation of the hotel's financial operations, Audrey began a room-use analysis. It would be a long, boring job, she knew, but it had to be done because there was a good chance of coming across clues that might throw light on irregularities. Since room-use analysis was difficult to do alone, she borrowed Sarah Bowman from the business office, over Frank Grimes' strenuous objections.
Twenty-one years old, Sarah had worked for almost two years at the North Shamrock. She was a bright, beautiful young woman with a slim, lovely figure, and Audrey felt drawn to her at once. Sarah, she thought, would be perfect for undercover work because no one would suspect an open-faced blonde with no ties to the management. But Audrey wondered about her own motives. Not since college had she been so attracted to another woman.
At the end of the first day on the project, Sarah surprised Audrey by suggesting that she wouldn't mind working into the evening. "I don't have anything better to do. Know what I mean?"
The older girl raised a brow. "Nothing to do? No dates?"
Sarah made a face. "Men put me off."
There was no mistaking the vehemence with which she said it. Sarah Bowman was definitely a man-hater. Audrey was intrigued in spite of herself. "To tell the truth, honey, I'd love to get this job over with as quickly as possible. If you'll stay, I'll clear the overtime with the business office. But I won't ask you to."
"I'll stay," Sarah declared.
The two women worked until nine, when Audrey, with no ulterior motive, invited the younger woman up to her suite for a drink. Sarah accepted. Sitting first on the divan, then on the bed edge, the two girls finished a round of Margueritas and started another, until whose head was humming most really didn't matter.
"I think I'll take a hot bath," Sarah proposed at a quarter to ten, hiccupping.
"Be my guest," Audrey invited, smiling.
As though accepting a dare, Sarah put her drink down and stood up to start undressing. When the dress and half-slip had been removed, Audrey saw that the other woman had an even more spectacular figure than she had imagined. In a word, Sarah was stacked.
The unboned bra was filled to overflowing. The bare skin above and between the cups was curved white satin. When she removed the bra a moment later, seemingly unaware of Audrey's interest, the white satin rose in magnificently pointed globes with startling pink tips. Audrey was appalled at the shiver of anticipation that ran through her, but she didn't take her eyes off the sight.
"Do you think my breasts are beautiful, dear?" the younger girl inquired, watching her.
Audrey nodded, too stirred for words. She ran her tongue over lips, which had suddenly gone dry.
Sarah wore pink nylon panties which clung to her riot of smooth curves like another layer of skin. As Audrey waited, heart pounding, Sarah bent over at the waist and rolled the panties down her perfect thighs and over her ankles, stepping out of them like a stripper who knows her audience is lapping up every wriggle.
The white skin she revealed was as flawless as any Audrey had ever seen. Blaine Marsh was far away again, but somehow Sarah Bowman reminded her of him. Audrey thought how exciting it would be to watch big, strong Blaine take the pert little blonde into bed and make passionate love to her. It would never come to pass, of course, not if Sarah despised men and Blaine loved her, but it was exciting to contemplate, nonetheless.
Sarah didn't try to hide a thing as she sat down on a chair arm and raised one leg to unfasten the garters from a nylon. She rolled it down a curvy leg and then raised the other. Her blond bush parted during the maneuver, briefly exposing the lips of her slit.
Sitting across from her on the bed edge, the Marguerita fast going to water, Audrey gazed her fill. There was no part of Sarah, from her head to her toes, that she couldn't see and appreciate. And yet, it wasn't possible, Audrey told herself. Except for a brief period during college when one or two older girls had held a fascination for her, she'd never desired another woman. But she wanted Sarah now. She wanted her desperately.
Eyelids lowered as though she were totally unaware of the conflict, Sarah removed the garter belt and tossed it onto the little pile of clothing. But rather than run for the shower, she picked up her unfinished drink and began sipping it. While the fiery sweetness trickled down her throat, she caught Audrey's eye, and smiled. The smile shimmered with possibilities, few of them having anything to do with a hot bath.
"You mix great drinks," the younger girl remarked, putting the glass down. "But is that a shiver I see? Maybe the air conditioning's too high. Or...." Sarah's smile turned knowing. " ... maybe you need a hot bath, too. They do wonders for the circulation."
Audrey flushed scarlet, both at the implication that she'd shivered-and she had-and the possibility that she'd welcome bathing with another woman. "You mean ... together? You and me? At the same time?"
Sarah nodded. But she must have seen the dismay on the other girl's face, because she added, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be pushy. I guess you're shy about undressing in front of another woman."
Audrey opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but she realized how silly it would make her look to protest too much. "Shy?" she hooted. "Don't be ridiculous. I lived in a sorority house for three years. I saw bare asses and more tits than you could ever count. As a matter-of-fact, your suggestion does sound pretty good."
Sarah beamed. "That's more like it, honey. Hooray for you."
Putting her glass down, Audrey reached for the hook at the back of her dress and slipped it open. Sliding the zipper down, she allowed the dress to fall to the rug, where she stepped out of it, chin lifted to show she didn't mind close scrutiny of her assets.
"Oh, wow!" Sarah exclaimed, eyes wide with admiration. "Yours has to be the most magnificent figure I've ever seen. And I've, ahem, seen plenty."
Audrey chuckled, more pleased than she would have been if Blaine or her father had complimented her for the same thing. "Thank you. But I was just saying the same thing to myself a few minutes ago-and I wasn't thinking about me."
The other girl laughed. "Forget it. I'm a compact model. You, you're a Cadillac or a Rolls Royce. Me, I'm a Fiat or an Alfa-Romeo."
Because there was no longer any justification for stalling, Audrey unhooked her bra and took it off. When her ripe, full breasts tumbled out, she heard a long, low whistle of appreciation, and was momentarily flustered. Somehow she'd lost control of the situation. There was no hope of getting it back while Sarah was looking at her that way.
"Million-dollar boobs, as a man would say. Me, I say bravo!"
Audrey bent to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and roll them down her thighs. Trying to find a measure of composure, or at least the appearance of one, she stepped out of the panties and started on her nylons and garter belt. When she was as naked as Sarah, she realized that both of them had splendid bodies, even if hers was large-boned and ample, and Sarah's small-boned and compact.
"I'd give a year's salary to be built the way you are," the younger girl remarked.
"Be smart and settle for what you have," Audrey advised, reaching for her drink. She drained the Marguerita in a single swallow and then she felt better prepared for whatever was coming next.
Sarah nodded. "I guess you're right. Still, it would be kind of nice." She clapped a hand to her head. "How could we forget to run our water? You can't take a hot bath without hot water. Wait here." Sarah went into the bathroom and began twirling tap handles in the combination shower-tub. Her smooth white back rippled with muscle as she drew the curtain and turned back to the bedroom. She caught Audrey staring at her buttocks, and smiled. "What was it like living in a sorority house?" she asked. "I've heard some wild stories about initiation, with spanking and all that. Are they true?"
Audrey tore her eyes off the other woman. "Some of them. Not all, but some. Why I suppose the wildest stories never got out. People just wouldn't believe them." She told of the bare bottom spankings, the forfeits, the girls who refused to go along and those who were more than cooperative. Sarah's blue eyes, she noticed, began to gleam with a strange fire.
"Gee, but that would be thrilling! Maybe it's because I get so excited when someone raps my bare behind! I think it goes back to childhood or something."
Audrey cocked her head, tingling inside over where the conversation was heading. "Oh?"
Sarah gave a vigorous nod. "My father would snatch me up and turn me over his knee at the slightest excuse. Usually he'd be chuckling when he spanked me, but sometimes he'd lay it on heavy. That's when I really turned on. I think it did something for him, too, if you know what I mean. When I was around thirteen, though, mother caught me looking at my bare bottom. I was so red from a spanking, she hit the roof. Dad never dared lay a hand on me again. Isn't that weird? You're the only one I've ever told, so promise me you won't tell."
Audrey laughed, although her own face was red. "I promise."
"Did you spank any of the girls in initiation?" Audrey nodded, because she had. "Sure, lots of them."
"Did you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed getting spanked?" Sarah pursued.
Audrey hesitated. "To tell the truth, honey, I think I enjoyed it more."
Sarah smiled in delight. "And I think our water's almost ready. After you, dear."
The gauntlet was down and Audrey had no choice but to pick it up. She walked into the bathroom in front of Sarah and parted the curtain, climbing over the tub to test the water. The water was perfect. Sarah climbed in after her and pulled the curtain tight. The two women avoided one another's eyes for a moment, but then they looked at one another, and a silent message of fraternity was exchanged.
Audrey adjusted the spray and stepped under it. She was neither surprised nor dismayed when Sarah began lathering her body for her, starting with her back and moving down her spine, lingering over the cheeks of her buttocks and traveling slowly down her legs. One or both of them was becoming very excited, because the sound of heavy breathing filled the stall.
"Turn around, please," Sarah murmured.
Audrey turned around, keeping her eyes closed. The gentle hands she couldn't see soaped her throat and shoulders, then spread creamy lather over the tingling mounds of her breasts, pausing over each sensitive nipple. The nipples promptly became erect. Audrey knew it couldn't be stopped now, and the knowledge gave her a dismayed sense of relief.
Sarah finished lathering her breasts and traveled on to scrub her belly and navel, poking a finger teasingly into the latter. The finger was a portent of better things to come, because now she was directly over Audrey's bush. Smearing lather through the rich tangle of hair, Sarah wormed her fingers into Audrey's slit, probing until she found the other woman's most sensitive spot: the clitoris. She began to massage with her right hand while soaping with her left, and the effect was devastating.
Audrey, writhing under the treatment, racked her brain for a way to repay the favor. She finally hit upon one. "Rinse me!" she ordered. "Hurry!"
Sarah rinsed the lather off the other girl's body, then raised to look at her. No sooner had she stood erect than Audrey sank to the tub floor, yanking the smaller woman off her feet and throwing her across her knees. The sound of a stiff palm striking the left cheek of Sarah's buttocks was almost a rifle report in the cramped stall. Solid flesh jiggled under her hand as she held it there for a moment before raising it to spank the other cheek.
Twenty spanks later, Sarah was sobbing and writhing in unmistakable ecstasy. Audrey stopped spanking and stared at the bright crimson buttocks. She was creaming with sexual lubricant, and so, she suspected, was Sarah. They'd never be more ready for one another. She pushed the other girl off her lap and helped her stand erect. Stepping out of the stall first, Audrey grabbed a towel and dried herself. Then she helped Sarah out and rubbed her briskly with the towel until her patience ran out.
"On the bed!" she groaned. "Get on the bed!"
Sarah ran for the big double bed and Audrey ran after her. They nearly tore the covers stripping them off, and bumped one another climbing up. Then it was a question of who would be in charge, who would be the active partner and who the passive. Sarah seemed to have made up her mind, because she quickly rolled on top of Audrey and held her down by sheer determination, pressing her lips to the older girl's.
Audrey shuddered when the honey-sweet lips melted into hers. But then she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the magic of another woman's mouth. Grateful that Sarah had made the decision for them, she let the younger girl french her to their mutual hearts' content. Sarah swirled her tongue around her mouth in intricate patterns that a man would never think of, withdrawing at intervals to nibble Audrey's lips with teeth that knew how close they could come to drawing blood without actually doing it.
When she sat up to prop herself on one elbow, Audrey quaked from the depth of her feeling. Her slit fairly drooled and her breasts were tight little knots of need sitting atop quivery mounds. Sarah cupped each mound in her palm and made its nipple swell with lusty life as she squeezed it between thumb and forefinger.
"I'm dying to suck them," she confessed, licking her lips. "Do you mind?"
Audrey shook her head in wordless consent, and bit back a moan when Sarah's soft lips closed around her left nipple. The strange mouth applied suction, and Audrey banged the sheets with her hands. When Sarah used her tongue to stroke the nipples on the roof of her mouth, Audrey seized her by the hai and moved her to the other breast. "Now do me!" she begged, ablaze with need.
Sarah raised her head to smile triumphantly. "Only if you'll do me, too. At the same time. I want to come when you come, darling."
"Yes!" Audrey whimpered.
The two girls stretched out side by side but with their heads and feet inverted. Fingers digging frantically into warm buttocks, they pressed their faces deep into one another's crotches until their lips encountered a more sensitive set of lips. Then they began to eat. They licked and sucked one another to the most glorious orgasm that either had ever experienced, dragging the sensations out for a full five minutes until both were satisfied.
Afterwards, they held one another in a sweaty embrace and vowed that the encounter would never repeat itself. Audrey wondered if the promise was one she could keep.
Two days of room-use analysis revealed nothing remarkable, other than the fact that for two girls who liked one another, time certainly passed swiftly.
Most of the room rentals followed no definite pattern-people checked in, stayed the night, checked out the next morning.
On the afternoon of the second day, however, Audrey, on her way to lunch, saw Frank Grimes hurrying through the lobby, a heavy suitcase in his hand. She knew it was heavy because he was tipped to one side. With four strong bellhops on the premises, it seemed strange that the North Shamrock's assistant manager should carry his own luggage, or even that he should have any luggage, considering that he lived in his own apartment just a few blocks away. But Audrey supposed that he was moving into a vacant room for a day or two for some reason, and gave it no more thought, other than to bemoan the strong brand of Cuban cigars Grimes smoked. The butts seemed to be everywhere. The odor, too.
Late that night, after she'd excused Sarah for the day, Audrey noticed something strange in her columns of room-use analysis. A room on each of the top four floors was always rented, while the room next to it was never rented. The paradox was so obvious, so puzzling, she wondered why she and Sarah hadn't commented on it before. The rooms were 415 and 417, 523 and 525, 609 and 611, 703 and 705.
Using a pass key, Audrey let herself into 415-one of the four rooms that was never rented-for an inspection. She found nothing, just an ordinary room like all the others in the North Shamrock's middle price range. A check of 523 and 609 revealed the same thing. If she hadn't followed impulse and went to 703, the night would have been wasted.
In 703, as soon as she opened the door, her nostrils detected cigar smoke. Someone had turned off the air conditioner and opened a window to defumigate the place, but he hadn't quite succeeded. Audrey immediately thought of Frank Grimes, although she couldn't imagine why he would come all the way to the seventh floor to do his smoking-and choose a room that was never rented. She couldn't find anything else amiss with the room except a tiny pile of plaster dust underneath one of the four screws supporting a wall mirror. The mirror attached to a wall which 703 shared with 705.
Not until the elevator stopped on the second floor did a horrible suspicion occur to her. Scooping up a case of variable-sized screwdrivers, Audrey went flying back up to 703 and removed the screws from the mirror. As she took out the last one, she realized she could be in trouble. The mirror was big and heavy, and might come crashing down on her head. But to Audrey's relief, the mirror swung smoothly toward her.
That surprise was nothing compared to the next one. As the hinged mirror swung out from the wall, she looked through a picture window into room 705. On the bed in 705, a naked man and woman lay sprawled in sleep. Instinctively, Audrey stepped back. A second later, she realized there was no danger of her being seen; the window through which she looked was a mirror on the other side. She'd heard of two-way mirrors before, but this was the first time she'd ever seen one. It was frightening to be able to spy on people this way when they had every reason to believe they were alone in the privacy of their room.
Glancing about the room, Audrey saw the woman's white nylon panties dangling off the end of a much-rumpled bed. Her bra lay on the floor beside the bed, partially covered by a towel that had been dropped. It wasn't difficult to guess what they'd been doing earlier and why they were sleeping so soundly.
She supposed that during their lovemaking, Frank Grimes had been an audience of one through the picture window. Could the man, Audrey wondered, be so perverted that he'd go to a lot of trouble and risk just for the thrill of watching a man and a woman make love? It seemed more than just sick, it struck her as being a form of insanity.
And then she had another thought that sent fresh chills through her body. Without a doubt, the suitcase she'd seen Frank carrying was heavy with camera equipment: an eight-or possibly sixteen-millimeter movie special, tripod, film reels, perhaps even a tape recorder connected to microphones planted in the room.
Brow furrowed, she considered the possiblities. Perhaps the man wasn't sick at all, merely an unscrupulous "businessman." Pictures of the type he could take this way, whether still or moving, offered a variety of financial opportunities, none of them legitimate.
Taking a last look at the naked couple on the bed, she saw that the woman was young and had a lush figure. It was easy to picture the lovely young form writhing in passion with the nude man who slept beside her now. The latter was considerably older. The jacket of a proper-looking business suit hung over the back of a chair, suggesting a boss taking his secretary out for a fling.
Closing the mirror window as quietly as possible, Audrey picked up the screws and replaced them. When she was finished, she used a Kleenex to mop up every trace of plaster dust. If Frank Grimes had done the same thing, she thought, his operation would have remained undiscovered.
Picking up the case of screwdrivers, she turned off the light and walked out of the room. At one in the morning the hall was more or less deserted. Audrey hurried into an elevator and descended to the lobby, half-intending to confront the assistant manager and fire him out of hand. At the desk, however, she was told that Grimes had left for home about three hours earlier. Checking the keyboard, she saw that the remaining three "Grimes" rooms were occupied and the adjoining rooms were, of course, empty.
Then a plan occurred to her. She'd check these three rooms for mirrors, but she wouldn't confront Frank Grimes right away. Not until she'd figured out his scheme and given him time to trip himself, possibly incriminating others who were in on the scheme.
Room 417, after she'd removed the mirror in 415, turned out to be empty, although there were enough personal effects scattered about to indicate that the room had been occupied earlier in the evening and probably would be again before morning. Looking into 525 from 523, Audrey saw a woman sitting up in bed naked, reading a newspaper. There was no sign of anyone else in the room, except for a pipe balanced across an ashtray on the dresser. She didn't stay to see who the nude woman was waiting up for.
An eye-popping sight met her eyes in 611. Audrey gasped and nearly dropped her screwdriver. There were two women on the bed. One was stark naked and very beautiful, with a flawless complexion and blond hair swirling around a perfect oval of a face. She was young-not much more than twenty or twenty-one, Audrey guessed-and her lovely face was streaked with tears despite a look of ecstasy on her face. Baffling, until the other woman turned around in bed.
Audrey estimated that she was in her late thirties. Short-cropped black hair framed a strong face that was almost handsome rather than beautiful. Everything about the second woman screamed "butch." She was tall, at least five-nine judging from how close her feet came to the footboard, and strongly built. Her torso was encased in bra and panties which appeared to be black satin. A closer look convinced Audrey they were especially designed latex garments which hugged her breasts and buttocks like a second skin. As the older woman left the bed and returned, Audrey trembled at what she held in her hand: a short-handled whip.
With a stern expression on her face, the woman said something. Obediently, the blonde turned over on her stomach. She raised her body on hands and knees, and the butch came close to examine her buttocks. There was a whole series of bright red lines across the plump, firm cheeks. Against the creamy white skin, the red was even more vivid. The young woman had taken quite a whipping, but the look of passion on her face told that she'd loved every second of it.
Audrey wondered if she wasn't due for more right about now. The older woman was a picture of frightening strength as she bent over to examine the red-streaked buttocks. Placing the whip down on the bed, she stared at the pattern of red stripes for a moment, then began rubbing the spongy mounds with both hands.
After a while, the kneeling girl twisted her head around. Blue eyes shone as she said something to her tormentress, whose domination she obviously loved. With a smile that was anything but warm, the older woman straightened and held up four fingers. The girl on the bed turned on a pleading look. More tears began to well in her eyes and run down her face, failing to disguise the sexual ecstasy. Audrey guessed that the tears and pleas were a part of the game, and that both knew it.
Picking up the whip once more, the butch planted herself closer to the bed and took a deep breath. The black latex bra expanded and rose. Audrey felt her heart pound with a mounting excitement. As a sorority member, she'd participated in a number of spanking games involving a bare palm or light paddle, but she'd never seen anything like this.
The woman with the whip braced her feet well apart as she took up her position close to the arched buttocks of the blonde, who'd lowered her arms and buried her face in the pillow. The butch's panties clung to a lean but still nicely curved behind. Her belly was almost boyishly flat. Straining black suspenders held shimmering black nylons taut over firm thighs. A pair of high heeled black patent pumps completed the "uniform."
Placing her left hand on the girl's just above her last vertebrae, the butch brought the whip down sharply, making the lash fall into the valley between the quivering cheeks. She drew the lash out with deliberate slowness until the trip through the valley was complete. And then, before Audrey realized what had happened, the butch flicked her wrist, making the lash of the little whip curl around the lower slope of the right cheek.
At once, the blonde began to gyrate with a frantic rhythm. It wasn't a motion of pain or suffering-it was pure animal lust. Audrey realized that the young girl was experiencing intense pleasure from the lashes across her bare ass, and also arousing the butch by her writhings so that the next cut would be even harder.
The butch paused for a long time, resting the whip on the left cheek, then she drew her arm back. In a blur the eye couldn't follow, she brought the scourge down on bare skin, drawing an ecstatic reaction from her victim. Delivering the next two strokes required almost two minutes as the woman with the whip savored every thrilling moment. When the fourth stroke had been delivered, the butch dropped the whip and hurriedly stripped off her bra and panties. A moment later, she turned the weeping girl over and stretched out beside her. The butch pressed her mouth to the tear-wet lips of the blonde in an unmistakably passionate kiss.
They writhed in a close embrace for a very long time, their bodies straining to get even closer. The older woman still wore her garter belt and nylons; the blonde was stark naked. Their embrace ended and the butch got on her back with her knees drawn up and her thighs parted wide. Audrey, in the next room, could see straight into her slit. The lips were dark-purplish, distended from desire.
Appearing to know what was expected of her, the blonde moved between the waiting thighs. With her red-streaked buttocks swaying, she pressed her face between the tense thighs, applying her mouth to the clitoris and labia of the other woman. The blonde's golden hair contrasted vividly with the ebony garter belt. While she sucked, her hands stayed busy above, now stroking the flat belly, now squeezing the lean thighs. The butch began to thrash and her mouth opened to form an 0. The young woman kept her mouth at its task until the butch stopped her thrashing and pushed her away.
Having provided satisfaction for her friend, the blonde dropped onto her back to await her turn. Audrey assumed it would be provided in the same way, and wondered why they hadn't chosen to do it simultaneously. But she received yet another surprise on this night of surprises. The butch climbed down off the bed and put her bra and panties back on. Then she picked up the whip again.
Audrey swallowed hard and almost looked away. But then she smothered a gasp as she saw how satisfaction was going to be provided. The butch knelt between the other woman's thighs, the lash of the whip curled up in her hand. She held it so that the handle-hard leather, about six or seven inches long-became an artificial penis aimed at the young woman's tender slit.
She thrust inside very carefully, the way a man would have to, and Audrey saw the blonde's mouth open wide. The woman outside guessed there was a cry of pleasure as the young girl accepted inch after inch of make-believe prick. The butch continued to thrust until she ran out of vagina; there was still an inch or two of whip handle which seemed necessary for manipulative purposes.
Pausing for a moment to make some remark-Audrey could see lips working-the older woman began to imitate coital movements, mimicking a man's instinctive in-and-out maneuvers as he plumbed a tight vagina. The blonde threw back her head and raised her legs to give the whip handle a better angle of attack. Varying her in-and-out fucking with a round-and-round screwing, the butch contrived to do everything that a man would do, indicating a basis for comparison. When she chose to, she could make the stimulation a veritable pounding. But usually she relied on an unbroken rhythm to keep her friend progressing to orgasm.
Audrey saw that with her eyes closed, the young woman could pretend that the stiff leather was a penis attached to a man, a penis attached to the other woman's arm, or even a penis with no one attached. As long as the butch avoided bodily contact, anything went. The blonde was free to indulge in any fantasy she chose, any fantasy that would make her body respond. The possibilities were mind-boggling.
Regardless of what the young woman was thinking while the artificial cock sent her to paradise, Audrey felt herself devoured by passion and a wild desire to share the fun. She wanted so desperately to be a part of it that she would willingly have submitted to the whip as her price. It wasn't possible, of course. She couldn't be a detective and a party girl at the same time.
Orgasm arrived for the young girl on the bed. She began to squirm and writhe with the whip handle as the axis. The butch had all she could do to hang on to the end of it. Finally, she had to restrain her friend by placing a hand on her belly while she pumped. With a final shudder, the blonde finished coming and lay still, opening her eyes to gaze around at her surroundings as though seeing them for the first time.
For a few minutes, the two women lay almost motionless on the bed. Then both got up. Audrey was surprised to see the younger woman begin to dress while the butch again removed her bra and panties. While the blonde was still dressing, the older woman got back up on the bed, kneeling with her legs wide apart. Except for the garter belt and nylons, she was nude again.
The whip lay on the bed in front of her while she used her hands to stroke her thighs, buttocks and breasts with the touch of a passionate lover. As she worked herself to a fever pitch, the younger woman finished dressing, picked up her purse and gloves, and walked out of the room, seemingly without a word of farewell.
The instant the door closed, the woman on the bed picked up the whip and fondled it lovingly. Audrey could see moisture glistening on the handle. With an expression that seemed to be both a smile of delight and a grimace of pain, the butch reached between her thighs with the fingers of her left hand. At the same time, with her right hand she brought up the whip handle.
Audrey felt perspiration running down her body. She couldn't stand it any longer. It was just too much. With her pass key, she could rush into the next room, tear off her clothes and submit to anything the woman wanted her to do. Only she couldn't. Frank Grimes might return with his camera, photograph them and blackmail her.
The butch, meanwhile, was beginning to use the whip handle as she'd used it on the other woman. Audrey knew what she had to do. Quickly, she reached up under her dress and jerked her panties down. She stepped out of them and stood with her feet wide apart. Her finger found her clitoris and her thumb became the whip handle as she tried to match rhythms with the woman on the bed. So excited had the previous performance made her that she climaxed in what seemed like seconds. Her thighs ground against her hand, her knees sagged and she had to put her free hand on the wall for support.
After a little while, she recovered her composure, picked up her panties and put them back on, closed the mirror and left the room.
CHAPTER FIVE
For three days, Audrey wrestled with her problem. Actually, she had a pair of problems. Frank Grimes was taking movies or stills through two-ways mirrors of guests in various sexual activities-and possibly blackmailing them for large sums at some later date-while John Kelso was involved in some way with the hotel's tangled finances. The two were possibly unrelated, but there might be a connection.
She wanted to tell her father, only Amos North would probably have the mirrors smashed and the two culprits fired, putting an end to Grimes' operation but also putting an end to the chances for nailing him. Audrey couldn't bear the idea of Frank Grimes getting away with extortion in the hotel that might someday be hers, not after what she'd already endured at the hands of John Kelso's ruffians.
In desperation, she picked up the phone one morning and called Blaine Marsh. Blaine had helped her regain her sanity once, maybe he could do it again. Only this time she wouldn't go to him; he'd have to come to her. She'd stick her neck out and offer him the assistant manager's job. Frank Grimes would have to be fired sooner or later, with or without criminal charges, creating a natural vacancy.
To her surprise, Blaine was enthusiastic over the offer and accepted at once. "This is a big chain, baby," he told her. "They don't give a damn whether I give notice or not. They have half a dozen guys waiting to take my job. I'll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon."
Audrey thanked him warmly, over and over again, and then she hung up. Suddenly the oppressive load that had weighed her down was gone. Blaine was coming, and together they'd do whatever had to be done.
Blaine Marsh flashed a wry smile at the girl in whose suite he sat. "Well, baby, you did come up with a can of worms here, I must say. Yes, sir."
Audrey resisted an urge to get up out of her chair and run across the room to fall in his lap. "It's not the worms as much as the snakes that bother me," she retorted. "They're everywhere."
Marsh wagged his head. "What beats me is why you thought of ol' Blaine. Hell, I'm not a trained detective. I don't know karate. I never carried a gun in my life."
"We don't need guns or karate," she insisted, "just our wits about us. If we don't use our brains, they'll run over us and laugh while they're doing it."
Blaine scratched his head, slouching farther down in the wing chair. "I see what you mean-I think. But I still don't have the confidence in me that you seem to have. I'll do what I can, though. That's a promise. You have the loose ends. I'll try to tie them together."
Audrey smiled in relief. "I knew I could count on you, darling. And I'm glad you understand what we're up against. It isn't going to be easy. I still have no idea where the vanishing income goes."
Marsh sat forward in his chair, blue eyes snapping. "Sure you have. Those charts you worked out are .as good as any road map. Given a few days behind the desk, I could probably find out not only how, but who. All you have to do, sweetheart, is match the salary I was making before you dragged me down here kicking and screaming."
She nodded. "I'll speak to daddy about it at once. I'm sure he'll go along."
"And after I go on duty, we'll have to act as though we never met."
Audrey frowned, not liking this part at all. "Why?"
Blaine made an eloquent gesture. "As I see it, I'm coming in because your dad's taking a few days off to rest. If Grimes or Kelso sees us together, the wind will get up and whoever's dipping into the till will cool it for a while. Then we might never catch him."
She made a face at him. "It makes sense, darn it. Care for a drink?"
Marsh grinned. "I was just about to suggest it. Easy on the vermouth, please."
Audrey mixed drinks and they walked out on the veranda to sip them. Blaine's face was wrinkled in thought, however, so she prodded him. "What is it?"
"You still want to keep the mirror thing away from your dad and keep him posted on the rest?"
Audrey nodded. "He'd do something rash if we told him about the mirrors."
"Then I'd like to find out where this Grimes fellow lives," Marsh declared.
She stared at him. "What on earth for?"
"I want to visit him when he's not home and, uh, take a look at the alleged film collection."
Audrey gasped. "Why, that's a marvelous idea! I wonder why I didn't think of it! But can you get inside without leaving any traces?"
Blaine chuckled. "Locks and keys were designed to keep out simpletons. Remember the course we had in hotel security? Most of it was kindergarten stuff to me. They haven't gotten around to designing the lock I can't open, although I admit this Grimes character could make me eat my words."
"I'll go with you!" she vowed, thrilled at the prospect.
"Fetch me some more ice and we'll drink on it," he suggested.
When she plunged the scoop into the ice bucket, Audrey felt Blaine's arms slip around her waist. She realized he didn't want more ice; he just wanted her back inside where he could make love to her. She spun around to slide her arms around his neck and press her lips to his. Right away, she felt his cock grow hard and thrust against her belly.
The kiss lasted for more than a minute. When they broke, Audrey shook a finger under his nose. "Shame on you," she scolded. "Making me think you were interested in Frank Grimes' dirty old pictures when you're interested in the same thing I am."
Blaine's twinkle turned into a smile, the smile into a chuckle, the chuckle to laughter. He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her up and above him. She wasn't a small woman, but he held her there as easily as he would Sarah Bowman. "And what might that be, chickadee?"
Audrey swatted at him from high in the air, mussing Blaine's blond hair but doing no real damage. "You know what I'm talking about! You're carrying it around in your pants, as if you didn't know!"
He grinned. "Oh, that. Well, he's been rarin' to see you again, and I can't blame him. You're about the best place he's ever been."
"But not the only place he's been!" Audrey sniffed.
"Uh, I'd rather not answer that," Marsh h-edged, and carried her to the bed. He lay her down on top of the covers and held her there so she couldn't roll away, squeezing her breasts through her blouse and bra. When she made no move to get away, he sat down on the bed edge and, smirking like a satyr, started on the buttons of her blouse.
She was glad she'd worn a bra which opened at the front. The thing snapped open at a touch, and her breasts popped free for his interested inspection, breasts which hadn't known a man's touch in almost a week. "They missed you," Audrey declared, hoping he couldn't see Sarah Bowman's teeth marks on the sensitive flesh.
"I'll bet they did." Blaine leaned over her and kissed her soft lips with his hard ones, tracing the outline of her breasts with his free hand. He kissed from one corner of her mouth to the other, now nibbling lightly, now grinding his teeth into hers.
Audrey parted her lips and slipped her arms around Blaine's neck, drawing him down to her. He took her breasts in both his hands and massaged them until the nipples swelled tight against his palms. Inserting his tongue, he explored the undersides of her lips, then thrust deep into the fiery sweetness of her mouth.
While he frenched her, Marsh's hands wandered down her belly to the waistband of her panties. Strong fingers crept inside to stroke the tender flesh on either side of her bush, transmitting a message of lust that needed no translation. After a few minutes, he took his mouth away and smiled into her eyes. "How am I doing, chickadee?"
"See for yourself," she taunted, squirming underneath him.
"Oh, I intend to," he assured her, thrusting out a jaw. "I fully intend to."
He took hold of her panties and almost snapped the waistband getting them off her hips. Peeling them down her thighs like leotards, he rolled them over her feet and tossed them somewhere behind him. Then he pushed her to the other side of the bed and crawled up to lie down beside her.
Audrey felt the folds of her cunt almost flower in their eagerness to have him inside her. Her clitoris commenced a quivering which puzzled her until she remembered that her last sexual experience had been with Sarah-and Sarah hadn't made her feel this way. There was a tremendous psychological stimulant in just being with an attractive man, particularly if the man happened to be Blaine Marsh.
He lay down alongside her and reached for her all over again. They frenched some more, but this time she did all the "work," exploring his mouth the way he'd explored hers, sucking at the underside of his tongue, nibbling lightly at his lips until he was gripping her shoulders with fingers that felt like steel claws.
She couldn't see it, but Audrey knew his prick was a piece of cast-iron pipe inside his shorts, making a tent in his slacks. She figured he'd taken about as much stimulation as he could stand when Blaine seized her around the waist and turned her over. Before she could ask him what he was up to, he began stroking her greedily from the base of her neck to her buttocks. Yanking up her skirt to expose the spongy cheeks, he frightened her by smacking her once on each. But then he bent to kiss the place he'd struck.
It wasn't difficult to imagine Blaine Marsh's thin lips on the red flesh of her buttocks. Audrey found the mental pictures so exciting she longed to tell him, to beg him to do it over and over again, to strike and kiss, hurt and heal, discipline and relent. But she kept her lips firmly compressed, not wanting Blaine to see this darker side of her, or even to suspect its existence.
Turning her over again so that she could look up at him, he petted her legs and belly, squeezing and patting the sensitive expanse of inner thigh. Raising her skirt to better expose her belly and the moist tangle of copper-red pubic hair, he bent to lick the tender skin where he could. Audrey opened her legs a little wider because she found the sensations exquisite. But when Blaine's tongue darted inside her slit, crisscrossing the shaft of her clitoris, she found the sensations almost unbearable.
"Oh, God!" she shuddered, putting her hands on his head. "That's-too much! Blaine, darling, I don't deserve all this! Let me take off the rest of my clothes, then you can give me what I really need-that wonderful prick of yours!"
Blaine didn't hear her, or at least he pretended not to. His busy tongue continued its spirited stabs inside her slit, causing her thigh, hip and belly muscles to go into the involuntary spasms of orgasm. While the tremors shook her, he kept his mouth glued to her cunt like a leech, lapping up her juices as fast as she could produce them. When she lay back in temporary satiety, he straightened up from her and climbed down off the bed to tear at his clothing.
"Jeez, but you taste terrific!" he told her, teeth chattering. "I never liked eating pussy until I tried yours. Baby, you're Grade A!"
Audrey remembered that there was something she'd never done for Blaine, and she wanted to do it now. But she fretted over how to bring it up, and whether or not, in view of her ordeal in the warehouse, a cock in the mouth would make her physically ill. She didn't want to throw up on Blaine; she loved him too much for that. But she longed to do for him what he'd just done for her.
Marsh dropped his pants to the rug and sent his shorts after them. His penis was a bloated spike of flesh. Raising the undershirt over his head, he turned and grinned at her.
"Make me do all the work, is that it? Okay, I'll take your threads off, too."
He started toward her, but she fended him off. "Please, Blaine!" she begged. "Let me ... do it for you!"
Marsh stopped and looked at her. His eyes widened when he saw the direction of her stare. "Watch it, baby," he warned. "That's big-league stuff. Don't do it if that business in the warehouse still makes you queasy."
Audrey pulled herself upright and beckoned him nearer. "If I'm not woman enough to suck you, I'm not woman enough to sit on your flagpole," she declared.
Blaine chuckled, making the big prick quiver and jerk. "You have a point. No, I have the point. Well, anyone, one of us-Christ, don't say you'll do it if you won't!"
She bowed her head over the large phallus, keeping her eyes open so the occasion wouldn't be too much like the other one. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she pressed her lips to the swollen red tip. Nothing spectacular happened, but at least she felt no great revulsion, just a tingle of satisfaction that she was doing something so wicked for the man she loved. Opening wider, Audrey drank in the head of Blaine's cock, swirling her tongue around the ridge a few times.
"Christ!" he muttered, quivering like a rocket about to go off. "You've been keeping this from me all these weeks! I feel like Peary at the Pole!"
Trying to pay him no mind, she tightened her lips and felt him go rigid. The rocket was about to go off. When she bobbed her head on him a few times, making the prick strike the back of her throat, Blaine growled low in his chest and seized her by the hair, tearing her off his bloated penis before she could make him climax.
"I've got to fuck you now, baby! If I don't pop the meat to you soon, I'll explode!"
She got back into bed and he moved on top of her, holding her down with his weight. Tugging off the rest of her clothing, he licked and sucked her breasts until the nipples hardened to form tight little knots of lust. While he kissed her breasts, Marsh laid a finger alongside the shaft of her clitoris. He began to stroke in rhythm with his sucking, and Audrey began to go out of her head. For five minutes she gritted her teeth and let the sensations mount. But finally she couldn't stand it anymore.
"In me!" she gasped. "Please, Blaine, you've got to put it in me!"
"I plan to, chickadee, I plan to." He moved higher up on the bed and positioned his knees inside her thighs, splaying them farther apart. Supporting himself on one hand, he used the other to aim the head of his prick past the lips of her cunt. Leaning forward to slide it in, encountering no more resistance than before, he thrust inside until the head of his tool came up short against the back of her vagina.
Audrey thrashed her legs to help him. "All of him! Let me have all of him!"
"If it's all of me you want, then, baby, it's all of me you'll get!" Blaine gave a particularly vigorous lunge, and the head of his cock went halfway inside her womb. He kept it there for a few seconds, then drew it out for the first stroke, like a sword from a scabbard. When he thrust back in, the scabbard was looser and moister than ever.
Audrey thrilled to the feel of a big prick in her cunt. If Frank Grimes had been watching through one of his mirrors, she didn't think she would have cared. Later, yes. Then, no'. This was sexual paradise, and the North Shamrock's financial woes didn't matter right now.
When she wrapped her legs around Blaine's waist and locked them at the ankle, he began fucking her like a man possessed. He'd pound at her for a few minutes, battering her poor clitoris to insensitivity, then he'd pause and screw her carefully in classic, round-and-round fashion, probably to keep from coming. Whatever he did, and however he did it, she loved him for it. At the moment, she couldn't see how she could ever get enough. By riding high on her clitoris, he was able to make her climax within a few minutes. Audrey bowed her back and threw back her head, coming so intensely she lost consciousness for a few giddy seconds. Awareness returned and she realized that Blaine was still slamming into her, stretching the orgasm into one of the most exciting three minutes of her life. From her head to her toes, she was a pulsing, shuddering instrument of lust, subsiding only when he paused to catch his breath. Marsh grinned at her.
"I don't know who or what's turned you on, I'm just glad to see it. And I hope it's me."
"It's you, you wonderful man!" she told him, even if it was partly Sarah Bowman and partly the sadomasochistic scene in Room 611. For now, it was Blaine Marsh and his marvelous prick, come to save her from the wolves.
He began to move in and out of her in long, measured strokes, and she began to quake inside, sensing that she and Blaine were about to share possibly the most shattering experience of their lives. The waves of sexual ecstasy were coming at her from every direction. She went dizzy and stayed that way for the next ten minutes.
She began to climax again, and it seemed as though she climaxed with every nerve ending in her body. Her clitoris went numb for a few seconds, and Audrey wondered if he'd fucked her too long. She had time to wonder about it; there was no time to worry. And then she felt him again, felt his hard prick slam into her and reawaken her clitoris, and they were off once more to a land of sweaty limbs and churning pelvises. Blaine appeared to have saved her the best performance of his life and brought it down when she needed it the most. The only way she could show her gratitude was to show her gratitude.
Audrey dug her nails into his shoulders and moved her head so she could sink her teeth into his left ear. She clawed and bit him hard enough to bring blood, but he didn't seem to mind; the powerful thighs continued to come at her in a mind-blurring rhythm. When she began to fear he'd hurt himself, he paused to gulp in fresh oxygen and expel it in her ear.
"Gotta-come-now!" he panted.
"Then come!" she urged, rising higher so he could plumb her depths with less effort. Blaine grasped her around the middle and made his prick streak in and out of her cunt, maintaining the pace for five unbelievable minutes. Audrey fought the sensations as long as she could, wanting to climax, this last time, when he did. Finally her vaginal muscles went wild and began to squeeze the captive penis.
Marsh groaned and the eyes nearly popped out of his head. Either he didn't believe what he was feeling, or his prick had lost all sensation and was no longer capable of feeling. Audrey chose to believe the former, because the agonized expression on Blaine's dazed face was swiftly replaced by one of sustained, concentrated bliss. The molten drops of cum began to spurt from the head of his organ, and there seemed to be no end to them. But finally he was drained dry and he collapsed, trembling, on top of her.
After a cold shower and an hour's rest, they sat in the air-conditioned suite and sipped drinks, she in her bra and panties, Blaine in his shorts. There was a lot to talk about, but they found they were content just to smile at one another and think about what they'd just shared.
"I think I said something about our not being seen together," Blaine remarked from where he sat on the bed edge. He got up to cross the room and sit down on the arm of her chair, slipping an arm around her so that the hand cupped the swell in her bra cup. "I'm amending that now to in public. With your approval, that is."
"You have it," Audrey assured him, smiling. His face came down to meet hers, which was upturned and ready. Blaine's lips proved to be as eager as her own. The kiss smoldered with promise, so much so that when it ended, she got up out of her chair and took off her bra, handing it to him.
"Whatever we did with it before, we can do again," Marsh chuckled, and tossed the thing to a dresser top. As though he didn't want to be outdone, he stood up and stripped the shorts off his hips. Amazing her-and probably Blaine as well-his cock was getting hard again, rising and filling with blood merely from close proximity to her.
"Don't you ever give him a rest?" Audrey quipped, reaching out to squeeze the swelling organ until it was rock-hard once more.
"Only when I'm breaking into the apartments of guys who take racy pictures through two-way mirrors in hotels," he grinned, and tipped her head back for another burning kiss. For several minutes, he kissed her, now exploring her mouth, now inviting similar exploration of his own. There was an easy masterfulness to his actions which pleased and excited her.
He was just as masterful about removing her panties, and she couldn't help thinking, even hoping that he might decide, in a spirit of playfulness, to spank her. She'd be helpless, and no matter how much she squirmed and fought him, he'd force her over his naked lap and apply a rigid palm to the cheeks of her buttocks.
Audrey couldn't help imagining it. As she lay over his lap, she'd feel the throbbing end of his prick poking into her belly, possibly even into her navel, where no man had put his penis before. Blaine's big hand would strike her upturned buttocks hard enough to sting, creating a lasting tingle that would warm her through the frenzied lovemaking that was certain to follow.
But it didn't happen. Blaine was stroking her belly and trailing his fingers through her still-moist bush, but he seemed to have no intention of spanking her, then or ever. Audrey promised herself that as soon as all this was over, she and Blaine would go away somewhere together and find all the privacy they desired. Then she might provoke him or otherwise create a spanking situation, hoping he'd take his cue without her having to tell him. Later, perhaps, she'd confess.
Right now, she forgot about spankings, because Blaine's hands were digging into the cheeks of her buttocks, not with sadistic intent but simply to bring her nearer to him. The hands massaged the sponginess while he ground his prick into her belly. Audrey raised her chin and parted her lips so he could french her some more.
The kiss ran on for minute after minute, until he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, holding her in such a way that her buttocks rubbed his erect penis, exciting both of them. As he paused beside the bed, the prick slipped over the smooth surface of a cheek and parked in her crease. Audrey went tense when she felt him jab it toward her as he held her up off the floor.
"Bl-Blaine!" she stammered. "What are you doing?"
"One of these days, I'm going to give it to you that way," he promised.
She made a face at him over her shoulder. "You're going to ask me first, mister. Back-door sex is something I'd have to think about."
Marsh laughed and threw her down on the bed, climbing up after her with only a stiff prick between them. "That's what I like about you, chickadee. You're always willing to try something new-provided you've thought about it for a long time and I worked the thing out in your mind. Then you call ol' Blaine to make it go."
"Are you complaining?" Audrey teased, closing her thighs one over the other to lock him out. "If you are, I can always put a lid on the pot."
"Hell, no!" he protested, and used his hands to force her thighs open, kneeling between them to aim himself at the tender slit between her legs. "Just feeling sorry for myself."
CHAPTER SIX
Learning Frank Grimes' address and apartment number proved easy. Amos North gave Audrey the address, and told her it was a high-rise apartment building five blocks from the hotel. "I'm almost certain he lives alone. He seems to have no interest in women at all."
No normal interest, Audrey thought, keeping a bland face for her father's benefit. He prefers to peek at them and take pictures. She tried to imagine Grimes in bathrobe and slippers, a lewd chuckle on his thin lips, thumbing through his private collection of erotica while he masturbated. Somehow she couldn't. The man loved money too well to hoard his treasure and make no gain from it.
With her father's assurance that he'd keep the assistant manager busy at the hotel for the rest of the day, she hurried out to meet Blaine at the bar where he was waiting for her.
Inside the lobby of Frank Grimes' apartment building, Blaine Marsh went to a row of buttons and pressed the one for Grimes' apartment, giving it a long buzz. When there was no answer after half a minute, Blaine pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, selected one and casually unlocked the lobby's inner door.
Audrey knew about pass keys, but no pass key she owned would have opened this lock. She looked at Blaine with new respect. "I have to give you credit."
"I recognized the tumbler mechanism as soon as I pushed the buzzer," Marsh explained with a grin. "On a bet, I once opened one with a hair-pin. It's a cheap lock, but it gives the tenants a feeling of security-a false sense of security."
She followed him into an elevator. "Any ideas about the lock on his apartment door?"
Blaine brushed against her thigh reaching for the elevator's button. "A fairly good one, I'd say, matching the style of the building. It looks impressive as hell, but the quality simply isn't there. I'll bet you a steak dinner or a night in bed that either of these two keys," he held the two apart, " ... will open the door as easily as he would."
Audrey tingled over the fleeting contact, relishing the promise of a night in bed almost as much as the prospect of going over Frank Grimes' apartment while he wasn't around. "You're on."
They walked out of the elevator with each checking an opposite direction. There was no one in sight, so Blaine fitted one of his keys into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open. He grinned at her in triumph. "Baby, what do you say to a steak dinner and a night in bed? Just so you won't feel bad."
Audrey laughed. "I'll think about it, Mr. Second-Story Man." They glanced around the apartment and agreed that it was hardly what they expected in a bachelor pad. She termed the decor chintzy, and that seemed to be a reasonably good description.
There was nothing of interest in the living room, so they walked into the bedroom. Blaine, his eyes narrowing, headed toward a closet as though he knew just where he was going and what he would find. "Does this look like the suitcase?" he asked, dragging one out from a corner.
"If it isn't the same one, it's a twin!" she gasped.
"Just don't try to pick it up," Marsh advised, turning back into the closet. A few seconds later, he staggered backward into the room carrying an obviously heavy cardboard carton. He put the carton down and flipped the top open. Audrey saw that it was filled with movie film cans.
"It looks like our boy is no mere candid camera man," Blaine said. "The projector's in the closet-a Bell and Howell sixteen-millimeter. I don't see a screen, though. Maybe we can use the wall. Why don't you find the ice and the booze and mix us some drinks while I'm setting up?"
Audrey thought the idea was a good one. She went looking for Frank Grimes' hoard of scotch-he had to have a little, if only because the hotel's restaurant carried some of the better-known brands. She found it, poured two doubles over ice and took them back to the bedroom. Blaine had set up the projector, mounted and threaded a reel of film, and was fiddling with the focusing system. He grinned at her and went to draw the curtains.
"Climb on the bed, baby. We're ready to roll. It's show time."
She sat on the bed edge and held his drink for him. When the room was dark, or at least darker than before, Marsh felt his way back to her, tripped the projector's switch, and climbed up on the bed beside her, pinching her thigh as he accepted the double.
"Don't say anything. Just watch."
Audrey sipped the scotch and waited. After the usual blank frames, a woman came to life on Frank Grimes' bedroom wall. A brunette who was amply endowed with curves, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties. The entire sequence showed her first fully clothed, then half-dressed, and finally stark nude as she walked out of camera range and into the bathroom.
In the next scene, she came out still naked but toweling herself dry. Completely relaxed, as though she knew she was in a safe hotel room with the door locked, she poured herself a drink from the flask in her handbag. With the drink and a paperback book she took from her overnighter the brunette climbed into bed. When she pulled a sheet up over her to her waist, however, the cameraman was so annoyed, apparently, that he left off shooting then and there.
After a short break, a new "movie" began. This time there was a man and a woman in the room. Both were fully dressed, fairly young and moderately attractive. The well-edited film showed them taking their clothes off while they chatted and laughed like long-marrieds. The man got naked first, and though he was well-endowed, he obviously wasn't ready for any serious action. His prick was a limp sausage between his legs.
Seemingly very much aware of his condition, or lack of it, the woman went into a strip-tease routine, still wearing her bra and panties. By the time she removed them, her man showed signs of improvement: his cock was stirring to reluctant life. But it hadn't stirred enough to do the lady any good, not unless she'd take anything that was available.
As though to encourage him, she dropped onto her back on the bed, raised her legs high, and used her fingers to show him what she had to offer if only he'd hurry up and take advantage of it. When that didn't work, she sat up and reached for the balky penis. Using the stubborn thing as a handle, she drew the man closer to her.
She seemed to be making an exciting suggestion as to how they might cure the situation, because the man smiled and nodded eagerly, then lay back with his hands under his head. With a shapely, well-manicured hand, the woman brought the flaccid prick toward her mouth. Silken lips parted wide, then closed around it. The camera showed her eyes closed and her jaw muscles working at the resurrection of an organ which usually needed no assistance.
"Will you look at that!" Blaine Marsh breathed. He switched his drink to another hand and used the cold one to fondle Audrey's bare knee.
She slapped the hand away only because it was icy to the touch. "If that doesn't do it, he's hopeless," she opined, moistening between the legs.
"I think he's hopeless, anyway, poor devil," Marsh mourned, letting the hand rest on her skirt-covered thigh, where she chose to let it stay. "That's what happens when you ball the same doll for ten years running. Sooner or later-pow! A short circuit. I tell you, men need a change now and then.
Women, too."
"Shut up," Audrey told him, wanting to concentrate on what was happening in the film. Because now the impromptu therapy was working; as the woman took her mouth away, a huge, throbbing hardon stabbed toward the ceiling six feet away. Audrey made a sound of amazement at the power of a warm mouth. Even fatigue couldn't stand against it.
As Blaine moved his hand around on her thigh, stroking the smooth flesh through the fabric of her skirt, the woman in the film, a pleased smile on her face, pointed toward her bush and slit, as though demanding equal time. Her partner shrugged and climbed down off the bed. When the woman lay down on the bed with her legs over the edge, he knelt between them and pressed his lips to the lips of her cunt, paying particular attention, judging from where he applied the point of one finger, to her clitoris.
"Now there's a considerate man," Audrey declared, while Blaine jeered.
"If he doesn't hurry, the dude'll need another treatment. Me, I'd dig in now, before it's too late. You eat the stuff when you're horny, not when you're de-horned."
As though he might be thinking about that himself, the man in the film got up off his knees and sprang back into bed, still with a formidable hardon between his legs. The woman opened for him right away, holding her legs high and close to her chest. She even helped him find the way by using two fingers to hold open the gaping slit the camera lens could no longer see. Her partner planted his knees solidly, grasped her around the waist, and thrust on in. Without pausing, he began to move.
The film was without sound effects, but Audrey, just from her own experience with Blaine, had no trouble imagining the wet slurps that were filling the room, the noisy slaps as belly met belly. Despite his initial problems, the man was a better-than-average lover. He made his partner climax at least three times, because three times she came up off the bed and commenced a furious thrashing. But his erection or his control failed him finally and he pulled out, his penis just a shriveled fraction of its former size. The scene dissolved to blank frames once more. The first reel was over.
"Ho boy!" Blaine Marsh sighed, and reached to switch the projector off. He made no move to turn on a light, however, or to open the drapes. In the dimly lit room, he and Audrey could barely see one another. The only sounds were their frequent pulls at the fast-melting scotch and their heavy breathing over what they'd just viewed.
She put her drink down to reach into his lap. Just as she'd suspected-and hoped-Blaine owned a good-sized erection of his own. He jumped when she touched him.
"Watch it, baby!" he warned. "I'm liable to explode all over you!"
"What would be the harm?" Audrey teased, brushing against him in the gloom. She expected Blaine to grab her, and he did, mauling her lips with his. When she opened her mouth for him, he thrust his tongue in so fast she nearly swallowed it. While he trenched her, Marsh's hands were gripping her by the shoulders. Gradually, he moved them lower until he clasped her breasts, one in each palm.
She thrilled to the way her nipples swelled under the massaging they were getting. Between Blaine's tongue in her mouth, licking and sucking them both to insanity, and his hands over her breasts, plucking and squeezing the sensitive buds, she was going straight out of her head. But she loved it. Only Frank Grimes' key in the lock outside could have jolted her back to reality.
Blaine stopped to open her blouse, and she helped him, pushing his hands away so she could work the buttons herself. Then she raised her arms so he could remove the blouse and unhook her bra. The eager way Blaine bent to her breasts was more exciting than ten of Frank Grimes' stag films. He put his mouth on the left nipple and sucked hard, making the tit swell. Equivalent attention to the right one produced the same result.
"Blaine!" Audrey groaned, writhing on the clean sheets. "Blaine, what if he comes home! What if daddy can't hold him! He could have us arrested for house-breaking!"
Marsh stopped to grin up at her in the darkness. "No way. It would be a travesty to bust in and spoil our fun. The guy's a bounder, but he's probably not a bastard. Relax, chickadee."
She would have felt better if they were safely back at her suite. As it was, she could only shiver and cream while he used his tongue to rake her turgid nipples back and forth across his palate. His hands, meanwhile, were stroking the smooth areas on the insides of her thighs, wandering higher until he encountered the tight border of her panties. Marsh made a smothered sound low in his throat when he discovered how wet they were. He stopped sucking her breasts long enough to unzip her skirt and take it off. Then he grabbed her panties and nearly tore them getting to the treasure inside.
"Blaine!" Audrey protested, struggled with him. "I want to leave here in clothes, not rags!"
"I forgot!" he chuckled, and backed away to shrug out of his own clothing while she rolled the panties down her hips and over her ankles. When he turned back to her, Marsh was stark naked, his prick an unmistakable spike of flesh coming straight at her.
She turned a somersault to evade him, and he sprang up on the bed to corner her below the headboard, subduing her with sheer strength as well as an occasional poke in the ribs. Laughing uncontrollably, Audrey tried to keep him from thrusting a finger inside her slit. To her delight and satisfaction, she failed. Blaine soon had all the fingers of one hand jammed deep in her cunt, anchored by a thumb high above her clitoris, and she was exciting herself and him with every move she made. So she stopped struggling and seized his cock in both hands, squeezing around the base so that his hardon became, to her glee, a harder-on.
The breath whistled through Marsh's nostrils like air through a safety valve. "I've got to put it in you now, baby!" he panted. "If I don't get it in you soon, one of us is going to get hurt!"
"Then put it in me!" she challenged, letting go of his penis as soon as he removed his fingers from her slit. She used her heels to propel herself backward, then raised her legs high over her chest. In the near-darkness, Blaine's bulk was a shroud of warm flesh and smooth skin as he covered her the way she loved best. Audrey closed her eyes and let him find his own way, thinking that if he didn't know the route by now, he never would.
If she enjoyed the preliminaries because they prepared her for the best part, she thrilled to the waves of pleasure that swept through her as Blaine took her there on Frank Grimes' rumpled bed. One bold thrust and he was in, sounding out the back of her vagina to make sure she could take him, then pumping her a few times just to get the feel of things.
"Oh, Blaine, I-I love it!" she whispered, wrapping her legs around his lean waist. "I don't think I could ever get enough of you!"
"No need to whisper," he reproved, rising up on elbows to peer down at her in the darkness. "If we're caught, baby, we're caught."
"But what are we going to do about-?"
Marsh laughed, lowering to slam into her hard enough to knock the breath out of her. "Nothing, until we finish testing the first one for authenticity. Like this." He began to fuck her in jackhammer fashion, withdrawing to the mouth of her vagina with each downstroke, thrusting back in to the hilt with each new lunge. His breath became a raspy pant, hers an answering pant spaced a split-second apart.
Audrey realized he couldn't last very long because he was expending himself too soon, making no effort to maintain control or prolong the experience for either of them. But she knew there wasn't time for a leisurely fucking, nor was this the place. So she gritted her teeth and hung on to Blaine's broad shoulders, hoping she'd come when he did and vice versa, so they'd have at least that one consolation.
She felt the sensations build up in her brain and the familiar sense of numbness commence in her clitoris, sure signs that she was about to climax. Then a rocket exploded in her cunt and she screamed. Blaine leaped in her arms and began to shoot off in great wads, groaning with each time another blob of cum left the tip of his prick. He continued to move long after the tremors had subsided for both of them, but now they were sobered by their surroundings.
"We gotta get out of here!" he gasped, wrenching himself out of her and swinging his legs over the bed edge. "I wish I remember where the goddamn light switch is!"
"Over there," Audrey said, pointing to the farther door jamb. She heard Blaine stumbling across the room, bumping into things, then she blinked as he flooded the room with light. She had to laugh at his disheveled appearance, and Blaine laughed at hers. But then they began to dress as though their lives depended on it.
"How much do we dare take with us?" Marsh demanded, trying to put his shorts on backward.
"If we take anything, we may as well take it all," she reminded, fighting to hook her bra.
Marsh's eyes bulged and he dropped his trousers, scooping them up almost before they hit the floor. "All of it? Are you serious? The projector, too?"
Audrey laughed and pointed at the bed. "Even if we made it up the way it was, it's still a mess. There isn't time to change the sheets, darling. If Frank even suspects someone's been here, he'll put the rest of his films in safe-deposit boxes. We'll never see any of them again. Doesn't it figure?"
Blaine snatched up his shirt, put a button into the wrong hole and had to take it out again, swearing. "I guess you're right. Only, what can we do with it? Where can we store it so Grimes won't dope it out and steal the stuff back?"
Audrey thought for a minute while she was putting her blouse and skirt back on. "Why don't you rent a suite at another hotel? Room service never goes into personal luggage. I can type out labels for the films and make them sound like nature studies. You could even pass yourself off as a college instructor."
"Okay. Help me take the reel off the 'jector, then go fetch your car to the service entrance. I'll carry the films down first because they're more valuable. If there's time and no one's looking, I'll come back for the Bell and Howell."
By eight o'clock, Amos North having been provided an explanation that wasn't too far from the truth, they were set up as before, only this time in a posh hotel suite where no one would disturb them. There was fresh scotch and ice on a nightstand, delivered by a bellhop who hadn't had to come inside but who must have suspected, from the expressions on their faces, that something pretty interesting was about to begin inside.
"Anything you want to take off, please feel free," Blaine joked as he moved the projector back away from the wall they'd used as a screen. "While you're getting comfortable, I'll be setting things up for the second feature."
"Careful you don't get anything caught in the equipment," she retorted, reaching for the zipper at the back of her fresh dress.
"I'll get something caught in your equipment, lady," he promised, selecting the film they'd view next from the generous supply in Frank Grimes' swag.
"Oh, goody!" she smiled, and began undressing much more quickly.
Working with the efficiency she'd come to expect from him, Blaine had the projector set up even before she finished. Holding the intended reel in his left hand, checking for an inverted picture with his right, he was threading it smoothly into the projector until she came up beside him. The film slipped and Marsh, grumbling, had to go back and rethread it.
He really couldn't be blamed, Audrey thought in satisfaction. She still wore black bra, panties, garter belt, dark shimmering nylons which clung to her perfectly shaped legs and thighs, and high-heeled black pumps. Fully realizing what she was doing, she added to the electrifying effect by standing with her feet apart and her hands on her hips, poised at the waistband of the brief panties.
"What do you think we'll gain by watching more scenes of degradation, Mister Detective Lieutenant?" she asked, smiling.
Marsh gave her a lecherous smirk that was probably intended to be lofty. "It's difficult to explain to a rookie, my dear," he said, finishing with the threading and locking the film gate. "It involves motivation, modus operanid and other closely related elements."
Audrey assumed a puzzled frown. "Is it possible to break that down into a simple explanation?"
Blaine grinned. "Sure. What it means is, I like watching stag movies with the most gorgeous chick in town beside me."
"Oh, you rotten stinker." She had to work at pretending anger because there really wasn't a trace of it in her. Anticipation, yes. Anger, no.
Marsh swept her with a smoldering glance. "Why all the clothes? You cold or something?"
Audrey nodded. "Absolutely frigid. Don't you remember?"
"Now I remember. It's all coming back. But I may be able to do something about that. See?" Blaine turned toward her and she saw that he was fully prepared to do just that-the prick inside his shorts, judging from the bulge it made in his trousers, was swollen and ready.
"Well, well, well," she said, contriving to blush for his benefit.
Given the excitement of watching a few movies, she reasoned, Blaine's readiness would be magnified and so would hers. If the second was anything like the first, it would be quite a "film festival." She'd leave her bra and panties on because she wanted him to take them off for her during the climax of one of Frank Grimes' "epics." But she wondered if they'd be able to wait that long.
He turned the projector on, adjusted the focus and led her to the bed, climbing up beside her to sit on the edge with a cold drink in his hand. Audrey worked the switch on the nearby lamp, plunging the room into darkness just as the film's blank frames were flashing across the wall screen. In a silence broken only by the projector motor's steady whir, they waited.
The first scene showed two women, one a middle-aged blonde, the other brunette and young-not more than twenty or twenty-one. The latter was very obviously drunk. The blonde helped her friend to a chair. Then, smiling, she stepped back and began to undress. Showing a little too much flesh in most places, as though hers was a good figure that had gone bad only in the last few years, she took off everything.
Blaine leaned close to mutter something at Audrey. "Where do you suppose all this is heading?"
"I can't imagine," she muttered back.
The blonde had to help the brunette sit up. Drawing her to her feet, she half-carried her to the bed. Seating the younger woman on the edge, she unfastened the buttons of a crisp white blouse and pulled it off her shoulders. The white bra was overfilled with breasts that looked firm and smooth. Holding the girl around the waist with her left arm, the woman used her right hand to fondle and squeeze both cups. Her lashes lowered and her expression became one of patient waiting.
One hand moved to find the catch and zipper of the short skirt below which lovely legs showed. The skirt opened to reveal a pair of clinging nylon panties. Unable to wait, the woman thrust a hand inside to stroke what she'd soon bare. Allowing the girl to fall back on the bed, the blonde bent over her with heavy breasts dangling as she tugged the skirt off.
The brunette had a stunning figure. Even in the shape she was in, the body looked strong, smooth and vital. The woman rolled her over onto her belly, fingers trembling as she unhooked the taut bra. As it fell open, the blonde started to turn her friend over, then seemed to think better of it. Moving back, she stroked the panties' slippery surface, clutching at the firm mounds inside. Quickly then, she tugged the panties down to bare the luscious hills of warm, firm-looking flesh.
Dropping to her knees on the floor, with the panties still high on the young girl's thighs but below the hills, the blonde caught the cheeks, parted them and buried her face. Strong hands rubbed the smooth thighs vigorously a few times. The older woman seemed to be inhaling the fragrance of her young friend. And then she was up on the bed again, turning the brunette over and removing the bra. Beautiful, melon-sized breasts tumbled out, and the blonde licked her lips. But she took time to finish removing the panties.
The young girl still wore a garter belt and stockings, but the woman did nothing about them except fondle the well-filled nylons as her hands worked their way up. Still kneeling on the floor beside the bed, she pushed the brunette's legs up and wide apart. As she stared at the dusky bush and out-puckered slit, the camera-Frank Grimes' camera-did the same. Blaine and Audrey clutched at one another.
"I've seen waste before, but never on this scale!" Marsh whispered.
"Hush!" Audrey told him.
Blaine tightened his arm around her and they watched the face of the woman press between silken young thighs. She ate greedily and for a long time before pulling her mouth back, licking her lips and getting to her feet. But she wasn't finished. Circling around, she tugged her friend farther up the bed and arranged her so that the brunette lay on her side. The latter seemed to be making feeble resistance with her hands, but the blonde brushed them aside.
Like a wrestler, she straddled the young girl's thighs. One hand reached between her own thighs. The camera couldn't see down there, but the fingers seemed to be parting the lips of another slit. Pressing down on the smooth thighs, the blonde removed her fingers and began rubbing. The contact she made, Audrey realized, must have been skillfully maintained: not too firm, not too light.
The woman rocked and swayed like an expert horseman at a full gallop. Audrey had once seen a classmate doing the same thing on a saddle while riding, and knew very well what the result was going to be. After a few minutes, the blonde achieved her end. Her mouth opened wide, her eyes closed tightly and her body gave a few spasmodic jerks. Then she pressed down harder and made the crashing waves of completion last a few seconds longer. The scene dissolved to more blank frames, which meant the film was over.
Blaine got up from the bed to shut the projector off and change the reel. "A bummer," he complained. "I could have made the doll on the bed cold sober in five minutes flat. With your consent, of course. I mean, I take 'em one at a time, right out in the open."
Audrey switched on the lamp and saw that the front of his trousers was a painfully swollen bulge. She burst out laughing. "Yes, I can see that you do, darling. A little more openness, and you wouldn't be able to take them off."
"Yeah? I'll have you eating your words within a few minutes. Your words or...." Marsh chuckled, " ... anything else we can find for you to nibble on." He selected a new film at random and mounted it on the projector, tripping the switch before coming back. "Lights out, please."
Audrey turned the lamp off and felt him sit down beside her again, closer this time. But she watched the wall screen to see what he'd found for them this time. Frank Grimes had aimed his peeping Bolex at a scene of heterosexual love for a change. A naked man of about thirty sat on a bed edge while a very attractive young woman, a girl of about twenty with long blond hair, undressed in front of him.
Audrey gave a little sigh of satisfaction as she felt Blaine unfastening her bra. The wispy thing fell away and he pulled her partly across his strong body so that he could roll her panties down. She helped all she could as he drew the panties down her legs and took them right off. While the man and women in the film fondled each other in preparation for lovemaking, she and Blaine did the same.
He stroked her breasts until her nipples erected, then he squeezed them until they were bigger still. When she parted her legs, he found her cunt with his hand and applied the point of one finger to the shaft of her clitoris. On the screen, the man in the film was doing the same thing to his partner, sucking her breasts while he fingered her clitoris.
"Excited?" Marsh asked, leaning close to Audrey's ear.
She nodded, so powerfully stirred she didn't have words adequate enough to describe it. When the pair on the screen moved into position for the ultimate act of love, Audrey felt Blaine adjusting her for the same wonderful purpose, turning her around so that her back was to him.
"Kneel up facing the screen," he ordered.
She complied, understanding how he wanted it and experiencing a new surge of excitement. Blaine knelt behind her and she felt the throbbing head of his prick press against a strange new place at the entrance to her cunt. She bent a little lower to receive him better.
On the screen, the blonde lay on her back and the man mounted her with rough urgency. Behind her, Audrey felt her man doing the same thing, but with a tenderness that was so sweet and good that she almost cried in ecstasy. And then he was inside her and his movements were a delicious blend of strength and gentleness. It was the first time Blaine had done it to her this way, and she loved it.
While both tried to watch the screen, Blaine's hands moved all over her, both behind and in front. In this position, he could fondle every sensitive area of her body and he found them all while continuing to move in a slow, sensational rhythm that drove her wild with delight. He was still doing it when an entirely new film appeared on the wall screen. Spliced onto the preceding picture, this one featured a weary-looking man of about fifty and two very beautiful young girls. The women wore only bras and panties when the picture started, and soon wore a lot less.
Both joined the man on the bed and worked together to arouse him by using every method in the book. But then the film began to blur and jump. There was nothing wrong with the picture; Audrey just felt something wonderful beginning to happen inside her that made her senses warp and her head dizzy. Blaine had obviously been waiting for this because he allowed her excitement to build to the very edge of explosion, then began to slam hard against her in a quick, slapping style while his hands gripped her hips.
He timed it perfectly and they took off together for a rocket trip to the stars. Both were vaguely aware of what was happening on the screen, and it made a subconscious contribution to their ecstasy. The orgasm ballooned into more than a minute for both of them.
"Are you tired, baby?" Blaine inquired, stretching out beside her on the damp sheets. "If you are, we can turn off the flick and rest awhile."
"No!" she said, wanting to see the rest of it. The picture was progressing to some sort of conclusion. The two women had serviced each other while the man watched and fondled his cock. Now they were pushing him down onto his back. One knelt so that she straddled his face. His tongue came out as she lowered herself over his mouth. The other crouched farther down beside him and opened her mouth wide as she caught his late-swelling penis in her hand. Lowering her head, she began to eat it up with unfeigned gusto.
"Blazes, look at her go!" Marsh exclaimed, nudging Audrey.
"I think I see what I've been doing wrong," she remarked teasingly.
It had taken the man a long time to get ready for action, but having started, he couldn't seem to stop. For fully twenty minutes, until the film ran out, he fucked the two girls one after the other, until he'd enjoyed them both twice and his cock had shriveled down to its former size.
On the bed, Blaine reached for Audrey again and they moved into an embrace, agreeing that they'd seen enough movies for the time being.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next few days passed swiftly at the hotel. Blaine went to work as a manager trainee under the; nominal supervision of Frank Grimes, and Audrey continued poring over the books in search of the elusive entries that might tell her why linen laundering costs were so high. Avoiding one another during the day, she and Blaine met only at night.
The projector and the rest of the films they put in storage in the North Shamrock's basement, convinced that Blaine's suite or hers was too risky. And one by one, working late at night, they refastened the swing-away mirrors in the rooms from which Grimes had shot and replaced the two-way mirrors in the rooms on which he spied. But she couldn't resist the temptation to show him how the set-up worked, so as they stripped the last one from Room 415, she made him stop and watch the actions of a couple booked in the room next door.
"Are you sure?" Marsh asked doubtfully, helping her secure the mirror. "I mean, watching films someone shot is one thing, actually doing it ourselves is something else. Doesn't this make us whatever Grimes is?"
"No, silly," Audrey laughed. "We're doing this in the line of duty, to try and find out what's going on. I know how he worked, but you don't. Now drag that stool over here and keep your voice down. The only thing between us and them is that." She pointed at the two-way mirror through which they could now see.
Blaine whistled. "Wow! I see what you mean! They must be newlyweds!"
The couple undressing in Room 417 might have been newlyweds or they might have been a couple of college kids on a spree. Audrey doubted that they were married, but she didn't doubt that they had beautiful bodies. The young man was blond and well-built, a veritable stud of a fellow who reminded her of Blaine. The girl was a shapely brunette, with a bustline which belied her slender figure.
She was unbuttoning her blouse now, and the fellow was helping her. Actually, with his hands and arms all over her, he was more of a hindrance than a help. Laughing, she pushed him away to work the buttons herself, shrugging out of the blouse to reveal a low-cut bra with unboned cups. Beckoning her man back, she turned around so that he could unhook her. Large, firm breasts tumbled out. When the fellow tried to put his hands over them, however, the girl danced out of reach, letting him know with a smile that there'd be time enough later for all that and much more.
Blaine Marsh sighed atop his stool. "Fantastic boobs. I wonder what they feel like."
"Hush!" Audrey commanded, irritated less over the observation than over the possibility of its being overheard.
The blond young man in the other room tugged the shirt from his slacks and made his fingers fly in his haste to remove it. He wore a knit undershirt underneath which he pulled over his head, tossing both shirt and undershirt to a dresser top. If the girl was well-built, her friend was superbly endowed. From his football-sized biceps to his bulging upper pectorals, he was a stud and then some.
Blaine nudged Audrey. "Remind you of anyone, chickadee? Not now, maybe, but five or six years ago?"
Audrey nodded, dreamily preoccupied with contemplating the young man's prick. He wasn't excited yet-probably too experienced for it-but as soon as he was, she betted that he'd own a flagpole that would do credit to Blaine's and possibly a little more.
The girl, meanwhile, had unzipped her skirt and was stepping out of it. She wore a half-slip underneath which she tugged off her hips while the young man watched, grinning. When she'd stripped to her panties, he came toward her again, fingers working the buckle of his belt and the zipper of his fly. Pausing three feet in front of her, making a dramatic production of it, he opened his pants and let them fall to the floor, where he stepped out of them. Now both he and the girl wore just their briefs-tight tricot panties in the girl's case, equally snug Jockey shorts in his.
Arms folded across her breasts, the girl waited, smiling. Audrey looked for a bulge in the Jockey shorts, and now she saw it: an unmistakable swelling as the boy found himself unable to resist the clean, fresh charms of his sweetheart. Inserting his thumbs into the waistband, he tugged the shorts off trim, athletic thighs and down his legs, over his ankles and off his feet.
Blaine Marsh made a strangled sound of envy at what he saw. "Let's go. The bastard makes me feel like a growing adolescent. I haven't seen that much meat since I went in a supermarket this morning."
Audrey wasn't ready to go. Quivering, aware of a growing moistness between her legs, she feasted her eyes on the most beautiful prick she'd ever seen: eight and a half inches of turgid maleness attached to a youth who, if he didn't know how to use it, could make his girl scream for mercy. Either that or more.
The girl reached out and placed a diffident hand on the awesome thing, having to stroke a few inches at a time to fully cover it. Her friend went rigid and his face assumed an expression of taut expectation. He took the girl's hand away and stooped to peel the panties off her slim hips, rolling them down her legs and over her ankles while she raised her feet one at a time. Then he swung her up off the floor and carried her to the bed.
Audrey found that she and Blaine now had an even better view than before. Unless the young couple turned sideways on the bed, they could see everything that happened from here on out, assuming, of course, that neither was overcome by guilt feelings. Blaine's objections reminded her that she'd felt the same way the first time she'd spied on someone else's lovemaking. But Audrey argued that this was for Blaine's benefit, and in no way compared with taking pictures for blackmail.
The blond stretched out beside his friend and began to kiss her. First he kissed her mouth from one corner to the other. Then, while she hugged him tightly around the neck, he kissed her nose, eyes and throat, even the lobes of both ears. The girl seemed to tremble most during the ear worship, but she obviously loved it all, kissing her man back with the same kind of hungry, wound-up, flat-out need.
Finally, he began to french her, thrusting his tongue past her parted lips, and she stopped her twitching to enjoy this new build-up. It became hard to tell when his tongue was in her mouth, and vice versa, because their heads were turning constantly. Audrey had no trouble imagining how the girl felt, having herself been trenched to the point of orgasm more than a few times. Had Blaine reached between her legs then-and he didn't-he would have found her soaking wet.
The young man's hands moved down now to caress his girlfriend's breasts. He stroked them while he kissed, and the nipples became noticeably larger. When he squeezed them, she began to squirm and writhe, knotting her fingers in his hair. To keep her still, he placed his leg across hers, partially obscuring the view.
The girl began to shake, and Audrey suspected that she was close to some kind of orgasm. When the spasms passed, her friend took his mouth off hers and started kissing his way toward her breasts. As soon as he touched his lips to one of her nipples, the girl threw her head back and sobbed something at him which didn't carry through the mirror. Whatever it was, the blond gobbled up the nipple, aureola and all, and began sucking. He probably used his tongue to dredge the sensitive bud across the roof ol his mouth, because his girl's heels commenced a frantic tattoo on the sheets.
"Now there's a titty-sucker!" Blaine Marsh muttered. "The kid must have been bottle-fed. I've never seen anything to beat-"
"Shut up!" Audrey hissed, turning to glare at him. "How many times do I have to tell you? Do you want them running downstairs to complain to the desk clerk that there's a dirty old man giggling at them from behind a mirror in their room? Well, do you?"
Marsh showed his teeth and clawed at a swollen place in the front of his trousers. "No, baby. But neither do I want to sit here and starve while another guy's sitting-I mean, lying-down to a banquet." He reached out for her.
Audrey brushed his hand away because she wasn't ready to "feed" him yet. "You'll get yours soon enough, darling. Right now you have to 'work.' Do it and stop complaining."
Blaine groaned softly. "Oh, but you're a harsh task-mistress, honey."
She watched the young man roll a nipple between his teeth while he stroked the insides of his girl's thighs, and the insides of her own thighs went sticky. The girl was tossing with need now, and it wouldn't be long before she made her friend quench it with his stallion-sized dong. But first he played around her clitoris for a while, inserting his finger into a slit no one else could see, then pulling it out again. Finally he stopped sucking her breasts and sat up to push her legs apart, exposing the congested lips of her cunt, blood-red from sexual excitement and sparkling with lubricant. The boy peered at it for a moment, seemingly overwhelmed, or perhaps undecided about where to start first.
"Art for art's sake?" Blaine Marsh joked. "Maybe he needs some pointers after all. Okay, sonny, eat it or beat it, one or the other."
As though he could hear the criticism, the boy used his index finger to raise the clitoral prepuce. While his girl jerked underneath him, he began stroking the unseen clitoris through its protective layer of skin, moving carefully up the shaft and back down again. In a few minutes, just by maintaining a careful rhythm, he'd reduced the girl to, judging from her contortions, incoherent need. When she pushed his hand away, he stopped and grinned at her, lips moving. The girl nodded her head again and again, appearing close to tears.
"He's making her beg for it," Blaine remarked. "Clever fellow."
Audrey gasped. "The sadist! A man who made me beg, I'd-I'd-"
"You'd beg him," Blaine chuckled. "Women do the damnedest things when they want a prick. The little lady in there, why, she wants a prick."
Audrey gave him a look she intended to be withering, and turned back to see how the drama in the other room came out. The girl on the bed was flat on her back, her legs raised and high, so far apart she seemed in danger of splitting apart. Her boyfriend, his gigantic prick bouncing in front of him, was on his knees between alabaster thighs, trying to aim his tool at the oozing slit that seemed several sizes too small for his battering ram of a penis.
"Slaughter of the innocent?" Blaine Marsh mused out loud. "She could be cherry. Don't hold your breath, though."
Audrey did hold her breath, waiting to see if the blond could actually stuff his outsized organ into his girlfriend's vagina. Inserting just the tip past her glistening cunt-lips, he made her wince and try to wriggle away merely by applying a small amount of pressure. Scowling at her, the young man seized her around the waist so she couldn't escape. Her head was back against the headboard, anyway, so she had nowhere to go.
"This is it, baby!" Blaine scowled. "Come to daddy, or daddy's coming to you!"
Audrey yearned to tell the girl to stop fighting it, to just relax and let her vagina's natural resilience handle the problem for her, only there was no way. So she had to watch instead while the young man forced his way inside one gritty inch at a time, evoking probably as much ecstasy as pain but surely enough of the latter to spoil the experience. Finally, the big cock was fully sheathed, and the boy began to move, having to withdraw almost to the tip before having enough room in which to make his next thrust. But his girl's expression had changed now from dazed shock over the sheer size of him to greedy acceptance as she realized that the worst was over and everything from here on out would be sexual bliss.
Blaine Marsh took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. But at least he blew it quietly. "And they all lived happily ever after," he sighed. "All except yours truly, who, regrettably, didn't get any."
Audrey wanted to slap him, only the slap would have carried through the mirror and distracted the young couple who were so deeply absorbed in one another's bodies. So she reached down to grasp a corner of the hinged mirror in 415 and reattach it to the wall, barking Blaine on the knee. Rubbing his injured member, he watched her screw the mirror back into place.
"We'll take it down like the others?"
Audrey gave him a scornful look. "What for? We can't get into the other room to remove the two-way. We can't nail this one to the wall without waking half the floor. We'll have to leave it the way it is. Frank Grimes knows we're wise to him now. I've seen him watching me when he thought I wasn't looking. If we leave this one the way it is, he'll think it's a trap and really start sweating. I want him to sweat. You, too, I hope, because now you've seen how he shot those dreadful films."
Marsh grinned and climbed down off the stool, glancing pointedly at the neatly made-up bed. "I've seen so much I want to do a little shooting of my own. Up a certain pretty twat I could name. Why can't we-?"
"Because it's a room he used, and I don't want to make love where he might find us!" she snapped, annoyed with him all over again. Men were so stupid, she thought, efficient and alert one minute, blundering and thoughtless the next, all because of that thing in their pants. "I can take you to my suite, but you'll have to promise to behave yourself. We have work to do." Audrey turned her head and smiled to herself, knowing very well the kind of work they'd do in her suite. The chores had very little to do with films and nothing at all to do with suspicious bookkeeping entries.
"I promise," Blaine said with a reasonably straight face.
Down in her suite, she forgot that she'd ever been angry with him. Mixing a brace of tonics, fending him off long enough to drink one, she let the alcohol warm her blood the way Blaine himself had already warmed her imagination. The Tonight Show was a convenient foil, but when the station left the air, she left the room for more ice, hoping he'd follow.
As she opened the refrigerator door, she felt Blaine's arms slide around her waist. Audrey, remembering how the girl upstairs had begged, was hard put not to show her elation. "Isn't it past your bedtime, dear?" she asked. "I mean, Mister Grimes expects you to be fresh and rested, doesn't he?"
"Not if I'm about to kick him in the ass!" Marsh growled.
"Then kiss me, you fool. Or do I have to show you how?" Audrey stood on tiptoe, slid her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. When he crushed her breasts against his chest and kissed her back, she figured their first quarrel was over. After a minute, she no longer cared. The only thing that mattered was the easy, masterful way he handled her.
He released her finally and stood grinning down at her. "So now you've decided to have me on your terms. Well, chickadee, what would you say if I told you to go to hell in a handcart, and stalked out of here?"
Audrey raised her chin. "I'd say you were a worse fool than I thought. And I'd bid you goodnight, smarty. But you won't do it."
"You're right," Blaine mourned. "I have guts, I know I have. Only I can't seem to find them when I need them." He pulled her against him. The extent of his capitulation betrayed itself in the form of a hard shaft thrusting through his trousers. He ground his lips into hers the way she liked, thrusting his tongue past her teeth before she could stop him. Crisscrossing the roof of her mouth, lashing his tongue from side to side, he aroused her with almost ridiculous ease.
Audrey felt the fire take hold, and realized she wouldn't let him walk out of there until he'd put it out. The fire had been smoldering when they arrived, banked in the wet sand of disagreement. Now it blazed higher and higher, fanned by her conscious need of him.
Blaine moved his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, covered the firm boobs while he explored her mouth. He began to squeeze them in rhythm with his tonguing, making the nipples rise to hard-pointed cones of desire. About then he must have realized how far along she was, because he stopped frenching her and started on the buttons of her blouse, fingers flying from one to the other.
"Where does it say Girl detective gets blouse removed?" Audrey demanded, smiling.
Marsh chuckled. "Paragraph four, section seven. I'd read my contract if I were you. Might keep you out of trouble." Drawing away her bra, he bared her breasts and the moist vale separating them. After burying his face between the shining white boobs, he lowered his mouth on each swollen tip, applying just the right amount of suction. When the nipples turned into hard little knots of lust, he used the flat of his tongue to rake them across the roof of his mouth.
She had to hang on his shoulders because her legs had begun to buckle under her. The slit he hadn't even touched yet was fairly bubbling with excitement, overflowing from two hours of readiness. Just when she thought he'd suck the nipples off her aureolas, he raised her skirt and thrust a hand inside the waistband of her panties, delving around until he found the moistening portal of love.
When he scraped a fingernail across her clitoris, Audrey nearly jumped on top of the refrigerator. "Blaine-my God, be careful!"
"Sorry, baby," he apologized, and began to stroke her more gently, plucking at her clit. Anchoring his thumb inside her cunt, he fingerfucked her until she put her hands on his chest and pushed, not wanting to be brought off this immature way.
"No! In me! I want you to put it in me!"
Blaine let go of her as though she'd burned him. "Then that makes two of us, chickadee. I've been wanting to put it in you since Adam was a little boy." He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, carrying her into the bedroom where they took off one another's clothes without once ripping a seam or popping a button.
Audrey didn't know which pleased her most-viewing the swollen proof of his readiness for her or realizing that he'd soon jam it in her honey box and keep it there for as long as he could. When he laid her on the bed, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine that his was the eight and one-half inches in Room 417. But she knew that was unfair to Blaine-a man couldn't help what he was born with, and Blaine had been born with enough-so she opened them again.
He was staring at her slit and licking his lips, still with a swollen hardon in front of him but no longer so ready about using it. "I haven't had my mouth down there in a week. Do you mind?"
By way of reply, she opened her legs. Blaine came up between her legs from the foot of the bed, keeping his weight off her feet. He placed a hand on the inner side of each thigh, spreading it farther from its neighbor. Then he moved the hands to her cheeks and his mouth went to her cunt.
Audrey groaned softly as she felt a strong, male tongue lapping at her like a kitten over a bowl of cream. The tongue swirled delightfully across the shaft of her clitoris, lingering for a moment over the hypersensitive knob. Then Blaine began thrusting it straight in as far as he could, squeezing her buttocks while he worked. Occasionally he went higher to lick her clitoris, and whenever he did, she lurched an inch nearer to orgasm. But she didn't want to come this way, not after having held him off so long. She struggled with him.
"Up here, Blaine!" she pleaded. "Come up here! Do you hear me?"
If he heard her, he gave no sign. Grasping her more firmly by the cheeks, Marsh continued to eat, now sucking on her clitoris, now driving his tongue deep into her vagina. He was a man under a strange compulsion, and nothing she said or did could shake him.
Audrey finally stopped trying. She felt her breasts rising and falling with her faster rate of breathing, and realized he'd bring her off this way. The tongue was driving her rapidly toward insanity now, and still he labored. She wriggled farther down the bed to get more of him inside her, nearly strangling him before he could adjust. Faltering for a moment, Marsh quickly recovered, making his tongue vibrate in a way that transmitted voluptuous sensations to every nerve ending in her body.
"Ah, Blaine, that's sensational!" she cried, thrashing her legs. "Don't stop! Please don't stop! I'll hate you if you do!"
Marsh paused to hook her legs over his shoulders and catch his breath. Gulping in fresh air, he took another hold on the cheeks of her buttocks and dived in again. After having barely broken his rhythm, he found it again, stuffing his tongue back between the drooling lips of her slit. This time he maintained a furious pace that no force of will could long stand against.
"Arghh!" Audrey sobbed, and began to come. She came so long and so hard, the tension-most of it-drained from her fevered body like cola from a can. Even if she knew how Blaine would make her pay for this special service, she felt grateful to him just the same. When she opened her eyes, he was sitting beside her on the bed, a certain glint in his eye.
"Like it?"
She nodded. "I loved it."
Marsh gestured at his prick. "Then you'll suck me off before we start? That way I'll have more control. Baby, I can probably fuck you till the sun comes up, and all you have to do is take it once in the mouth."
She quivered. "All the way? You mean swallow it? Gee, I don't think I-"
"Sure you can." He pushed her over to the bed edge. "You can sit there and I'll stand. Or if you'd rather, we can work it the other way around, only you'll have to get on your knees." Marsh grinned. "We seem to be right back where we started, huh? Squabbling over who's in charge, who has to beg and who doesn't? Hell, I don't care who's in charge-I just want to get sucked!"
Audrey thought the trip over the bed edge was the longest she'd ever taken, except possibly the one into the warehouse. Blaine swung his legs over the side and dropped onto his back, so at least he couldn't watch her while she worked. But still she dreaded the prospect of fellating him to orgasm, fearing her reaction to the taste of semen in her mouth would be nausea and worse.
"If you'd rather not, you'll have to pay me a forfeit-the little doll in 417!"
That did it. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, she leaned forward so that Blaine's big prick was just a few inches from her face. There was an unmistakable male scent about the area that reminded her of the warehouse. But realizing how they'd both feel if she copped out now, Audrey closed her eyes and opened her mouth, drinking in just the swollen, acorn-shaped head.
"Wow-ee!" Marsh whooped. "That's where it's at, chickadee! You're getting there! Just don't slack up, you hear? Take it all!"
Reassured by the familiar, salty taste of him, she took more and more cock until her mouth was filled with it. Funny, she thought. Between the lips, seven and a half inches feel like seventeen and a half. Before she choked or gagged, Audrey withdrew to nibble lightly at the sensitive skin around the organ's head.
Marsh raised partly up off the bed and flopped back down again. "If you want a warning, you're getting it now!" he gritted. "I'm about to send the load up!"
Audrey heard him, and the fear in her belly congealed into a tight ball of panic. But she steeled herself to finish what she'd started. Bobbing her head the way the man in the warehouse had made her do, she tightened her lips and drew her teeth back out of harm's way. The only sounds now were two sets of raspy breaths, hers, and Blaine's, on the second floor of a hotel where almost everyone else had long since gone to bed.
"Holy Mother of God!" Marsh chattered, his big thighs quaking even though they weren't holding up anything more weighty than a pair of socks.
She felt the big cock commence a contraction which made her worry about the possibility of choking. One part of her yearned to finish this powerful caress, while another wanted to turn pridefully away.
"I know what you're thinking, chickadee! And you're right-I'll ride you to pieces if you don't finish me! We'll be friends again, but that's all! Do you hear me? Friends!"
She couldn't have taken her mouth away now if Frank Grimes himself had been standing in the doorway watching them, a Bolex at the ready. Sheer determination kept her glued to Blaine's exploding prick. Determination made her taste the molten drops which burst from the tip. Determination made her swallow every one until there was nothing left to swallow. Not until he sat up to grab her by the hair and drag her back into bed did she realize she was glad. Not ecstatic, but glad.
"Okay, baby, you're gonna get it now!" he panted. "I'm gonna pop the meat to you like it's never been popped before!" He pushed her on her back and aimed the rest of a still-respectable hardon at the slit between her legs, moving over her to plant his knees between hers. "What was that room number again? The kid with the race-horse dong? Suppose he ever made the thing go back down the way it was?"
Audrey opened her mouth to tell him, but an entirely different instrument of lust made her bite the words back. She shuddered as he shoved it slowly in, groaned as he brought it back out again. Delicious tremors racked her body. She tried to open wider for him, but Blaine had anticipated her. Splaying her thighs farther apart, bringing her legs up over his shoulders and leaving them there, he drove himself deeper inside her.
"Yes, sir!" he crowed. "This is gonna be all right, it is!"
When he was in as far as he could go, the two of them began to move together. The room soon filled with the slap of sweaty flesh, the sound of one laboring body filling another. Maintaining an unbelievable, machine-like rhythm, he continued to pound away at her until she climaxed.
Audrey realized that she must have screamed, because Blaine clapped a hand over her mouth. The scream failed to register because, for her, the room was spinning, the furniture was changing places, the lights were fading. The orgasm was easily the most powerful one that she'd ever experienced.
But so was the next, which somehow left her unprepared for the one after that....
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first break in the hotel's financial audit-Audrey liked to think of it as an audit even if, officially, it wasn't-came when she dialed the laundry service for a corroboration of a year-old billing hike. To her amazement, there'd never been a billing hike. The company whose bright green trucks picked up the North Shamrock's dirty linen every day and fetched it back clean the following morning had never raised its rates, although they were thinking about it, according to the manager.
Audrey requested a check of the company's records for a copy of the North Shamrock's most recent bill, and asked the manager to call back. In the meantime, she went to bookkeeping to find the original. Somehow she wasn't surprised to discover that the original was a phony-Xerox copies couldn't fool someone trained to detect counterfeit currency. The bill specified $2,643 for the month of June-far too large a bill for a hotel whose 150 rooms weren't always filled, even if the laundry charges for 60,000 sheets and 60,000 pillowcases did come to a rather handsome sum.
She didn't need anyone to call her back to get the picture now. Someone, possibly John Kelso, had seen the opportunity to bilk the hotel through blank Xerox copies of the laundry service's billing forms. With the-collusion of someone in bookkeeping, he'd intercepted the real bill, paid it, substituted the false bill for seven or eight hundred dollars more, and after paying off his partner, had pocketed the difference. Ingenious. And yet the take probably came to less than $8,000 a year-paltry when you considered the prison term the someone risked.
Audrey went straight to her father with her discovery. Amos North was amazed, too, but he saw the humor in the situation. "Eight thousand dollars? What's eight thousand dollars, daughter? We have twenty-seven employees. Eight thousand dollars comes to one and one-half employees who don't do anything useful for us. Of course we'll do something about it, but we won't press charges. It would mean a scandal and might give other people in other hotels ideas."
She was indignant. "Daddy, I'm ashamed of you! Our net income last year was ninety-five thousand dollars, a return of slightly less than seven per cent. The eight thousand dollars John Kelso stole would have raised us to one hundred and three thousand! If we tightened up all around, maybe fired a few people, we could probably earn an industry return on our investment! Doesn't that interest you? It should. If we're ever going to close down and build a new motor inn out Route 98, the bank's going to be interested in trivia like that."
Amos North stroked his chin, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Now that you've explained it so well ... what do you suggest we do?"
Audrey gulped, having failed to think the entire problem through. John Kelso and Frank Grimes were somehow connected, she was sure of it. The question was, how. Until she knew the answer, she couldn't afford to come down hard on either man. "I-I'm not sure. Give me another day to think about it. I believe there's something much bigger going on here, only...." She thew her hands out expressively.
Her father smiled and patted her shoulder. "If you're looking for a deep, dark conspiracy, dear, remember this is only a medium-sized hotel in a medium-sized city. Chances are, there isn't any conspiracy."
Audrey tried to smile back, but she new one of them was wrong-and it wasn't her.
Her worst forboding bore dire fruit. In mid-afternoon, as she prepared to leave the hotel for a meeting with Blaine, one of the North Shamrock's two security men came running into the office. "Where's Mister North?" he demanded. "I've got to see him at once!"
"What is it?" Audrey asked the man. "Daddy's in the restaurant having a slice of pie." The security office would have dashed out without another word if she hadn't seized him by the arm, chilled by his grim demeanor. "You can tell me! Do it!"
"Are you kidding?" The security man tried to jerk free, only she held him too firmly. He shrugged and stopped struggling. "Okay. If you want it, you've got it. There's a body in the basement."
Her heart lurched because she thought first of Blaine. "A body! Whose body?"
"Mister Kelso's, the night clerk. Seems he didn't walk home this morning after all. His car's still in the garage. A tire went flat and the keys were in it, so one of the attendants opened the trunk." The security man shuddered. "And there's Mister Kelso, a coat hanger around his neck. If you'll call the police, Miss North, we can begin getting this over with before the evening trade starts up."
Audrey recovered her composure and nodded. "All right, Larry. Try to keep the rest of the staff away from it, will you? I'll be down in a minute." She had no qualms about viewing dead bodies; this one she had to see. After dialing the police, she told them to come to the North Shamrock's basement parking garage and then, without telling her father, started down herself.
In the southeast corner of the garage, farthest from the exits, a small crowd had gathered around John Kelso's blue Nova sports coupe. The crowd was small only because Larry Hobgood, the security man, owned two burly shoulders and a gruff voice. The last of it broke up as she arrived, giving Audrey room enough to peer into the trunk unmolested. She saw John Kelso, still wearing the coat, tie and slacks he'd worn on duty, lying on the floor between the spare and the jack. A white enameled coat-hanger, the kind every hotel room has two dozen of, was twisted around his neck. John Kelso's face in death wasn't peaceful; his expression was still haunted by his final, losing struggle for life.
Audrey turned away, stunned and sickened. As yet, she was too dazed to consider the implications, just more certain than ever that something quite horrible had been going on at the North Shamrock-and that Frank Grimes was somehow responsible. She glanced at Larry Hobgood, but Larry was watching a west entrance for the first police car. On an impulse, because she was desperate to make some headway of her own, before the police took all the evidence away, she reached inside the trunk to open the dead man's jacket. Protruding from a lining pocket was an envelope, folded in half. Any clue, even a baffling clue, was better than no clue at all, so she snatched it out and stuffed it in her suit pocket, smoothing the jacket out the way she'd found it.
"I'm going to see what's keeping daddy," Audrey told Larry, and marched toward an elevator with her heart in her throat. She felt the security man's hard eyes boring into her back as she walked away, but he didn't come after her or call her back. Upstairs, she raced out of the elevator and went to find her father, relating the murder as matter-of-factly as possible.
"My God!" Amos North gasped, and sped off to the basement without finishing his coffee.
Audrey fled to her suite to read the letter she'd taken off the body of John Kelso. Locking herself inside, she smoothed the envelope out and looked at the return address. Rubber-stamped in the upper left corner, not printed, was: Chamba Productions, Coldwater Canyon, North Hollywood, California 91606. But the letter was addressed, not to John Kelso, but to Frank Grimes!
One of the men or somebody had already opened it, so she took the letter out and read, on rubber-stamped, dime-store stationery:
Mr. Frank Grimes
19653 Ascension, Apartment 3C
National City
Dear Mr. Grines:
The reason there's no check in this envelope is simple-you've reneged on your part of our agreement. The films you promised us are so long overdue we've had to fall back on our regular sources. We've contracted through the rest of the year, and you can no longer consider us a market.
You have to understand that without a completely catalog of films, we have no "product line" that would warrant the kind of advertising necessary to move a volume. The first three you sent us were quite promising, although the lighting wasn't professional and the one camera angle was quite monotonous. But three short feature films don't make a catalog.
Since you don't seem serious about the arrangement, we're returning your three samples by fourth-class mail.
With best wishes, Alex Smith
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Blaine Marsh asked, pressing the cold drink into her hand. "Grimes knew about Kelso's theft and was about to blow the whistle on him to make himself look good. But Kelso was too smart for him. He burglarized Grimes' apartment or his mailbox and found enough evidence to stymie the dude. About then, we came along and hauled away all of Grimes' precious films. Without 'em, he couldn't complete the deal with Chamba Productions. He was wiped out. He figured Kelso was the one and...." Marsh made a slicing motion across his throat. "Scratch one desk clerk."
Audrey shivered, although the air conditioning in Blaine's suite was lower than usual. "We can't be sure. If Frank Grimes killed John Kelso, he's a far more dangerous man than either of us realized." She didn't tell Blaine that to keep the police from finding them, she'd had to hustle the films out of the North Shamrock's basement and stow them in the trunk of her car.
"I hope, for Christ's sake, that you didn't come over here in this heat to solve a murder. I'm in no mood for it, having heard enough on the radio to last me a month."
Shaking her head, Audrey got up from the bed to put her drink down. Blaine took her in his arms and began kissing her even before the chill left her fingers. He kissed her on the lips until she parted them for him, inviting his tongue inside her mouth. She hoped he might dispel some of the tension from her trembling body before it made her scream, because she couldn't stand the sight of another body with a white enameled coat-hanger twisted around its neck.
Marsh stopped to look at her in some concern. "Hey, you really are strung out, aren't you? Is there anything you haven't told me? Has this Grimes fellow threatened you in some way? If he has, we can-"
"No. Please love me, Blaine, darling. Just love me."
He grinned. "Okay. But I was going to do it, anyway." He went her backward in his arms and began to french her better than he'd ever trenched her before, crisscrossing the roof of her mouth in clean, measured strokes, sucking at the underside of her tongue until the prick between his legs thrust hard against her belly.
They'd planned to go to dinner first, but Audrey realized they'd be eating later now, much later. As the tension drained slowly from her body, replaced by sexual excitement, which was tension of a far different sort, John Kelso and Frank Grimes-the connection between them-faded from her mind like the final frames of one of their pathetic movies.
They broke to start undressing. There was almost a shyness about her as she took off her dress and paused for a moment before reaching to work the hooks of her bra. After all they'd done together, it was a strange sepsation, but one she couldn't control. Shy or not, she unfastened the bra and pulled it off. Gazing down at her proudly jutting breasts, she suddenly felt all the confident pride of womanhood.
There was no more shyness or hesitation then. Audrey raised her eyes and looked at Blaine. He was already naked and powerfully aroused. The sight relieved her and made her grateful. Her body had excited him, so she would give it to him with a willingness that would make his lust grow until it exploded inside her own body. They they'd go to dinner and try to make some sense of the madness.
"I think you'd better let me do that," Marsh suggested as she reached for the waistband of her panties.
The panties were a fitting color for the day-black. She nodded and waited for him to cross the room. Blaine's hands slid inside, his thumbs hooked over the waistband and she felt his hands on her as he pulled them down slowly, blue eyes feasting on what his hands were baring.
When the panties fell around her ankles, she would have kicked them away, but he stopped her. Stooping, he removed them from her feet with something close to reverence. "I hate to see a woman kick anything," he reproved, "especially her drawers. These drawers are special. They're precious. They're precious because they clung to your lovely body and took on the scent of you. See?" Marsh, his expression graver than any undertaker's, raised the warm panties to his mouth. He inhaled and pressed a fervent kiss into the nylon.
Audrey had to laugh at the expression on his face, but she loved the gesture. It was so like him. To her astonishment, she felt the kiss right where the panties had been a minute before. Delicious tremors of anticipation swept through her, making the points of her breasts stand out. "You're a very sick man, Mister Marsh. I don't think you have any idea of just how sick you are."
He winked and tossed the flimsy things to a dresser top. "I have ideas all right."
She still wore her garter belt and nylons, but he made no move to take them off. They wouldn't be in the way and she knew Blaine loved the feel of her nylons rubbing his naked sides while they made love. Maybe they gave him added potency, which wasn't as strange as it sounded.
He sat down on the bed and drew her down beside him, sniffing at her bare skin. "Scented soap. Did you have a bath before you came over?"
Audrey nodded. "I needed one."
"Well, you're going to get another one now," he said, smiling.
"Are you going to bathe me?" she asked, gazing up into his face as he leaned over her.
"Right, my darling. I'm going to bathe you the only way I know how."
He kissed her on the forehead and she felt his tongue. Audrey trembled at the prospect of being bathed all over that way. It would take a very long time and it would make her cry out again and again. But it would be a delightful way to postpone the actual connection, sharpening the anticipation of it to the keenest possible edge.
Moving down from her face, Blaine licked at her throat and shoulders, even ran his tongue through the warm recesses under her arms. She'd never been kissed there before, and the sensations were twice as thrilling. When he'd covered the front of her body with wet kisses, Marsh turned her over and began working his way down her back.
Her spine occupied his voracious mouth, and then the cheeks of her buttocks. He kissed the swelling mounds for a long time, making her moan when his tongue reached into the crease itself. Not even her feet were missed. She thought she'd scream when his tongue found the sensitive soles of her feet. After he'd covered each toe, the bath was complete ... except for one place.
"Oh, Blaine, darling, I'm ready!" she moaned. "I'm ready for you now!"
Marsh laughed. "Oh, no, you're not. I saved the best of the bath for last. You're going to get it right about now. That is, if you think you can stand it."
He moved up a little farther on the bed and grasped her around the hips. She realized all over again how strong he was as he held her away from the bed while he parted her legs, pressing his face deeply between her thighs. When he touched his lips to her clitoris, she yelped. He began to lick her clit; the sensations were more thrilling than any kiss she'd ever known.
But he wasn't content to just suck her clitoris, even though she would have climaxed within a matter of seconds if he'd kept it up. When she hovered on the brink of orgasm, he stopped and thrust his tongue inside her slit. Strong hands held and caressed her buttocks and thighs while his lips and tongue drove her slowly insane.
She tried to make him stop, to tell him that she wanted him inside her so they could finish together, but there was no stopping him. He refused to take his mouth away from her cunt. Gripping her buttocks more tightly, he drew her more closely against his face. Audrey convulsed and stifled a scream that wanted to burst from her lips. Ecstasy waves broke over her again and again, almost drowning her in sexual pleasure.
While the spasms still gripped her, Blaine lowered her body with her thighs still parted. He scrambled around on the bed to show her the bloated proof of his own readiness-a swollen stick of a penis whose veins stood out starkly along the shaft. Because the lips of her cunt were distended from excitement, he had no trouble thrusting inside. His hands moved under her buttocks and raised her from the bed to meet the challenge of his first powerful lunge.
Audrey heard his groan of release a split second before she felt the result inundating her cunt with the hot fluids of his cum. He came so long she feared for him, then the tension left his body and he relaxed somewhat, although he still continued to move his prick in and out of her vagina, pumping her in slow, measured strokes. She pulled him down on top of her then, and the heavy weight of his body was the most enjoyable burden she'd ever known.
"That was the fastest fuck I ever threw into you," he mourned. "I feel like a low-living bastard."
"Don't," she soothed, stroking his hair. "I feel marvelous. You should, too."
Blaine paused and just let the flesh of his cock roast quietly in the oven of her cunt. "You really like having your box eaten, don't you?" he chuckled, nuzzling the lobe of her left ear.
"I love it!" Audrey told him, tingling with new excitement. "Maybe someday I'll feel the same way about eating your-your thingamabob."
Marsh grunted and pulled his relaxing rod out of her pussy. "I won't hold my breath, sweetheart. Some dolls never learn to like a prick in the mouth. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you're one of them. But if you'll fix me a cold drink, I'll promise not to cry about it."
They lay on the bed and drank for an hour, after which both felt passion returning. Fondling one another while their mouths fell victim to tongues, his and hers, they readied each other for another thrilling encounter. When she stroked his dormant prick, however, Audrey found that he wasn't even half-hard yet. She wondered if he still felt bad about coming so quickly. "I guess I'm rushing you."
Marsh laughed, making the ice in his glass tinkle. "Have no fear, dear. I've never yet failed to get it up again, given a decent chance. Stroke me a little harder."
She worked the foreskin back and forth a few times, and sure enough, he began to grow in her hand until soon he was as hard as ever. Audrey slowed her fondling until it was just enough to keep him swollen and ready for action. "How do you do it?" she asked, curious as to how he could turn it off and on.
Blaine winked and smiled. "I think about the problem from the other side. Never fails. The backdoor approach, I think you'd call it."
For a moment, she didn't understand. Then the light dawned and she laughed as the picture suddenly became clear. "My cheeks! You think of me back there! Does that really make it better for you?"
Blaine shook his head. "Not all the time. It's just that when junior's too tired to raise his head for another round, the rear-end approach usually does the trick."
Audrey mulled that over in her head for a minute. "I never knew that. Is it the same for all men?"
Marsh covered her breasts with his cupped hands, and squeezed lightly. "I don't know how it is with other men, but I know how it is with me. But from my own experience, I'd say every guy has a technique to turn himself on when maybe nothing else would work. For some, it's a woman's hand or her mouth. Or her breasts. Or her armpits." He pinched the tips of her breasts until the nipples erected. "I think you get the idea."
She lay with her hand resting on Blaine's big prick, enjoying his attentions to her breasts. "But you're a derriere man?"
He laughed. "Something like that. When you kneel over with your lovely fanny arched, and I see the whole vista spread out before me-the round bottom, the thighs, the nylons, the way your tits hang low and almost touch your chin-I forget I've just had a strenuous work-out. I'm rarin' to go again. Want me to show you?"
For Audrey, the suggestion was highly appealing, coming as it did from a man she loved and admired. With someone else, she might have seen the demeaning aspects of it. With Blaine, she saw only the exciting, novelty side. And if it turned him on...."Yes, show me." She put her drink down and rolled across the bed to kneel on her hands and knees. "Like this? Or should my fanny be higher?"
"Your fanny's fine," he assured her, maneuvering himself behind her. "A perfect figure of a fanny."
When he didn't take her right away, she glanced back and saw that he was admiring her array of curves and mounds, the rich expanse of slopes and indentations awaiting his enjoyment. The black garter belt contrasted vividly with the white of her skin. Audrey twisted her body to make the pendulous melons of her breasts sway with more invitation, the full moons of her buttocks jiggle more enticingly. "Hurry!" she called. "The suspense is killing me!"
"Well, we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?" Marsh grasped her around the waist and tugged her nearer the prick she could no longer see but which, increasingly, she could feel. He stroked her between the legs with it until both of them could detect a change in size. "Some day!" he panted, groping for her slit, "I'm going to find an excuse to tan this fanny a nice bright pink!"
Audrey broke out in goose pimples at the prospect. "Oh, I hope so, darling!" she gasped. "Please let it be soon! I've-I've been dying to have you spank me. Ahhh!" She felt the head of his tool enter her moistening slit, and the unaccustomed angle awoke nerve endings she didn't even know she had. "Yes, yes! Put it in me!"
"Here it comes, baby! Keep your head down, huh? It's better that way." Marsh thrust on inside until every inch he had was snugly buried in her cunt, his belly tight against her warm buttocks. Without establishing any kind of a rhythm as yet, just trying to touch bottom, he made a few experimental lunges into her.
Audrey groaned and swayed from side to side, remembering how good it had been when they fucked this way while watching the movies. Then there'd been the thrill of a new experience and the stimulation of watching another couple engaged in sexual activity identical to their own. Now there was the turn-on of love and affection, a feeling of closeness which was reassuring after her experience of the morning.
His strong hands held her as he began moving in and out. Picking up the rhythm, she rocked back and forth to meet his every thrust. With the completion of each stroke, there was the lovely sound of a hard male belly slapping a soft female fanny. This was as close to a spanking as he'd ever gone with her, and though it wouldn't leave a tingle in her cheeks, it would leave her with a large measure of satisfaction.
Looking back at him through her swinging breasts, Audrey watched in fascination as the gigantic shaft streaked in and out of her vagina-the only position she knew of without mirrors in which a woman could actually watch the organ at work. There was a raw kind of beauty in the sight which spurred her excitement to the breaking point.
He began to climax when she did, pummeling her buttocks with his belly until the stream of hot seed gushed forth into her and left them both weak and spent. She fell foward on her belly and Blaine wobbled backward to fall on his back, flopping down beside her as soon as he had the strength. Neither felt like drinking anymore, so they lay quietly and let their heartbeats and respiration rates return to normal.
"Now tell me about this new preoccupation of yours," he said.
Audrey looked at him. "Preoccupation?"
Blaine grinned at her. "A few minutes ago, you mentioned spanking. No, I mentioned it, and you, I think, quickly seconded the motion. What gives?"
She smiled lazily at him from underneath lowered lids. "It's not a new preoccupation, darling. It's an old, old preoccupation."
Marsh raised a brow. "Oh? I think you'd better explain, before I give you what you claim you want."
Audrey, after considering the risks and the pos-siblity of being connected to Sarah, told him about the spankings in her sorority house. Blaine, to her surprise, insisted on hearing about them in more detail. She described sessions in which one or more girls lay over the lap of a sister to receive a bare bottom spanking with palm or paddle. Blaine listened intently and then made a confession of his own.
"When I was fifteen," he recalled, "I happen to look out my upstairs bedroom window into a bedroom next door." Marsh laughed. "Wow. The kick's been with me ever since. The girl next door had gotten into some mischief and her mother was whailing the daylights out of her. The kid was about sixteen, I guess, really too old for that sort of thing. But her mother had bent her over her lap with her dress and slip raised and her panties pulled down to her knees. It was the first time I'd ever seen a garter belt, and the first time I'd ever seen or heard a spanking."
"Didn't you ever want to find out what it felt like?" Audrey asked. "Either to dish it out or to receive it?" She held her breath, hoping Blaine would take the broadest hint she'd ever given him.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Uh-uh, chickadee. You're not gonna trick me into turning you across my knee, getting us both all excited again. No, sir. But I'll make you a promise. Sometime soon, maybe when we're married or something, I'll give you a backside job that'll send you to the stars. Then you can give me one. How's that?"
"Oh, Blaine!" She didn't know which excited her the most-his roundabout offer of marriage or the promise of a new chapter in their relationslip.
CHAPTER NINE
After spending the night with Blaine, Audrey left him sleeping and dressed to return to the North Shamrock. While most other guests were still sleeping, she elevatored down to the lobby, intending to pick up her car from the side street where, wisely or not, she'd left it. By now the police would be through taking pictures and lifting fingerprints, she hoped. She hadn't seen the morning papers, but if Frank Grimes had gotten careless, he might be in custody at that very moment, leaving her with just one problem: how to dispose of the housands and thousands of feet of movie film stowed in the trunk.
Under an early morning sun, she stared at her car. It looked the same, only ... only someone had forced open a vent window with a chisel or screwdriver. Audrey glanced into the back seat. The heart in her chest leaped into her throat, because the same someone who broke the vent window had slashed the back seat to ribbons. There was a gaping hole large enough to remove everything in the trunk except the spare. She didn't even check to see if the films were missing; somehow she knew they were.
She thought of Blaine first, then realized how he'd laugh at her for being so careless. But this was no laughing matter. Frank Grimes was still loose out there somewhere, and now he knew who'd stolen his films. A man who'd killed once wouldn't hesitate to kill again.
Handbag swinging, she ran to a telephone to call her father. Amos North was an early riser, too, who could think more clearly in a crisis. After dropping the dime twice, she finally made it fall into the slot. The North Shamrock's number gave her more trouble until she forced herself to dial the digits one at a time. "Daddy!" she said into the mouthpiece when she heard his hello. "I think I'm in trouble!"
"What is it, kitten?" Amos North asked from the other end of the line.
"Someone broke into my car last night and stole Frank Grimes' films!" Audrey blurted, figuring she'd better get it over with as quickly as possible.
"What films?"
The words wanted to stick in her throat, but she managed to get them out. "The ones he's been shooting through two-way mirrors in four rooms at the hotel. The ones he thinks John Kelso stole. Only John didn't steal them. I stole them!"
"What?"
Audrey realized how incredible all this sounded, and stopped to sort her words. "Daddy, I can't tell you everything over the phone. You wouldn't believe some of it. But take my word for this-someone broke into my car last night and stole those films! It has to be Frank Grimes! Don't you see?" She gave her father a few seconds in which to digest the information, trusting his usually sharp intellect to do the rest.
"Then that means your life is in danger. If Grimes killed Kelso because he thought John stole his films, he may try to kill you because you know too much. Are you calling from Blaine's room, baby?"
Audrey shook her head, until she realized a shake wouldn't carry over six blocks of telephone line. "It's a public phone. I'm outdoors."
"Look around you. Does anyone seem to be watching? Is there a car moving too slowly on the street?"
Her blood chilled, but she made herself glance casually around. There was a pedestrian on the other side of the street and a couple of cars waiting for a light, but no one who appeared to be paying her any mind. "No. I think I'm safe for now. Shall I wait for you, or try to reach the hotel?"
"Hanging around's too risky. Grimes thinks you're still with Blaine. He may have found out differently by now. No, you'd better get in your car and drive. But check under the hood first. I'm not trying to frighten you, but people get blown to bits every day. If you're not here in five minutes, I'll come looking for you. That's all, baby."
The phone clicked dead and Audrey, her flesh crawling at the implication of a bomb wired to the ignition of her car, slowly hung it up. She wanted to run to Blaine, but he'd already risked more than he should for her. Anyway, there was the possibility of having Frank Grimes follow her into an elevator and strangle her then and there. For all she knew, Blaine might be buying time for her at that very moment, grappling with a Frank Grimes who was heavier and far more desperate even if he wasn't as tall.
She stepped from the phone booth and fought an urge to dash headlong down the street. A running girl was a moving target. A conspicuous moving target. Instead, she forced herself to walk calmly back to her car and raise the hood. She knew next to nothing about automobile electrical systems, but as far as she could tell from a hasty check, there was nothing sinister under the hood.
Relief flooded through her. She slammed the hood down. As she did, she felt a strong arm wrap around her throat. There was a sickening odor in the cloth that pressed over her nose and mouth. She couldn't scream; there was no breath for it. Her stomach reacted first, then her head. The latter began to spin. Audrey couldn't stop herself from falling. She seemed to fall a million miles into the depths of black oblivion. She realized she should call for help or try to resist, but her arms and legs, lungs and mouth refused to cooperate.
When Frank Grimes caught her limp body and pushed it into the car, she wasn't even aware of it. She was no longer aware of anything. The next sensation she did feel was that of being motionless on the floor of a car as it was being driven very fast over a rough road. Audrey felt her stomach turning sour, and hoped the ride would end soon before she added to her discomfort by being sick.
Although she recalled lowering the hood of her own car, she realized this wasn't hers. The floor was too wide and too roomy. She surmised that the car belonged to Frank Grimes-if so, it was a late-model Buick-and that he was taking her to some remote place for God knew what.
Audrey tried to push away the heavy blanket which covered her. The blanket was rough and scratchy on her face and arms. Hot, too. Her wrists, she noticed for the first time, were lashed together. She was helpless. Bracing her feet in an effort to change her position, she found that they, too, were bound. Tears formed in her eyes then, but she fought against crying.
I've got to stay strong, Audrey told herself over and over. Perhaps when we arrive, if I pretend to be weak and faint, I'll find some way to escape. Even if it meant fleeing naked, escape would be better than being in the company of a vengeful, crazed Frank Grimes.
After interminable hours, the car stopped. The door opened behind her and Audrey felt the blanket being ripped away from her. Her abductor muttered a curse and she felt his hands on the backs of her thighs where her dress had been pushed up. She felt him raise the dress even higher and then his hands fondled her through the thin nylon panties which hugged her trembling buttocks.
He began tugging her out of the car then, and she helped him as much as she could with a view to saving herself from needless bumping and scraping. Even at that, she was banged around considerably by a man who outweighed Blaine Marsh by at least thirty-five or forty pounds. The man was Frank Grimes.
Pausing with her legs half out of the car, he untied her ankles. "All right," he said finally. "You can get out now. But don't try to run, or I'll have to kill you."
Wriggling off the seat and feeling her dress ride up even higher, Audrey put her feet on the ground and discovered that she wouldn't be able to support herself. "I can't," she said. "My legs are too weak."
"Keep moving," Grimes ordered. "I'll help you."
His hands rubbed her panties as he slipped his arms around her. Loathing the contact, she stood and leaned against him as blood began to circulate in her legs and feet once more. Her legs were still weak, however, and they hurt as she put her weight on them. Frank kept her leaning against him with his hands holding and stroking her as they stumbled across an uncared-for lawn toward a small, white-painted cottage.
Other than this one structure, Audrey saw nothing except a lake and an endless forest. Holding her with one arm around her middle, just above her panties, Grimes took a ring of keys from his pocket, using one to unlock the cottage's front door. He pushed it open.
The irony struck her now. She remembered how she and Blaine had discussed spending their honeymoon in just such a place. Making the trip to such a cottage with an insane Frank Grimes had never occurred to her then. When he pushed her inside, she would have sat, but he refused to allow it.
"You'll have to get used to standing," he growled at her. "When I tell you to, you're going to do a striptease for me while I shoot it."
Audrey knew he meant it, but she also knew worse things than that could happen to her. "At least untie my hands!" she begged. "I can't feel anything in my fingers!"
Grimes smiled, but there was no warmth or sympathy in the smile. "Of course, my dear. You'll have to use your lovely hands, too, when you perform for me."
She tried not to look at the mocking eyes. "How-how long do you intend keeping me here?"
Grimes chuckled. "Long enough. You see, I expect your boyfriend to come looking for you. That's why I have this gun in my pocket. I'm going to take him captive, too, and then the pair of you are going to do all sorts of things for me while I record it on film. After that, I'll let you watch me kill him. I may keep you for a while longer to have more fun. After that, we'll see."
Audrey shuddered. Not only were the words ugly and frightening, but she realized how right he was. Blaine would come looking for her just as he was supposed to, and just as he'd probably think she'd want it, he wouldn't bring the police. Blaine wouldn't expect Frank to be armed with anything more deadly than a coat-hanger. He'd walk straight into a trap and they'd both die.
"Take off your dress now, please," Grimes commanded, snapping his fingers. "I've always wanted to see you in bra and panties. I guess this is my chance."
She tried to obey, but her bloodless fingers were unable to function.
"Here, my dear," he said with malevolent softness. "Turn around and I'll do it for you."
Frank's hands grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around. He unhooked the top of her dress and worked the long zipper with fingers that seemed capable of ripping it off her body. Backing away before she could whirl on him-assuming she were foolish enough to-he reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out a snub-nosed revolver.
"I just want you to know I have this, baby," he warned. "If you try to escape, I won't kill you. I'll just shoot one of your lovely legs. That way you'll be twice as sorry." Grimes slipped the gun back into his pocket. "Come with me now. I have some equipment in the car. You're going to fetch it in for me."
Aghast, Audrey stared down at her semi-nude body. "Like this?"
Frank laughed. "Of course. We're all alone at this end of the lake. You'll get more sun that way. While we're here, I hope to shoot a lot of outdoor footage. Won't it be exciting to cavort around in the altogether and have it all recorded on film? Every gorgeous inch?"
There was no point in making him furious, so she didn't tell him what she really thought of him, how low she felt he was. Instead, she walked out the door in front of him, reminding herself of the revolver in his pocket. The sun felt warm on her bare back and would have been comforting under other circumstances. As it was, Frank's eyes and hands were on her, too, and it made her flesh creep.
Walking beside her, he squeezed her right buttock with his left hand, much the way a buyer would squeeze any other flesh he'd just bought. When they reached the car, he held her firmly with one hand and opened the trunk with the other, removing the cartons of film she and Blaine had stolen from him and which, by dint of patience, he'd stolen back again.
"Did you enjoy my movies?" he inquired, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Tell the truth."
"Some of them," Audrey replied, and wasn't surprised to see a flush of pleasure on his face. Somehow it wasn't out of character for the man to experience murderous rage over the theft of his films and still feel pleased that someone had enjoyed them.
"With a sound-track and professional editing, they'd make a terrific X-movie," Frank asserted. "All I need is more footage. You're going to help me get it."
Wanting to be agreeable, she nodded. He made her walk in front of him again and carry the heaviest carton of films. She supposed he had another projector somewhere inside to replace the one she and Blaine had taken from his apartment. Well, it's movie time again, darling, Audrey told herself.
"You can roll your hips a little if you like," Grimes said behind her.
Again, she decided it would be best to go along with him. She managed to carry the films and still walk with a series of bumps and grinds that would have done credit to a burlesque dancer.
"Every time I've watched you walk through the hotel's lobby, I've wanted to take your dress off and see how you look in your frilly lingerie. Now, by God, I know. You're even more than I imagined." Frank cackled like a miser who's just gotten his hands on another miser's hoard. "Yes, indeed."
Inside the cottage, he ordered her to put the carton of films down and turn her back. Not out of modesty, she suspected, but so she couldn't rush him when an undershirt was over his head or his shorts were down around his ankles. Audrey heard fabric rustle and then she heard him tiptoe across the room. To conceal the revolver, she surmised, because now Frank was buck naked, with no place to hide a gun or anything else.
"You can turn around now," he said. "In fact, I'd rather you would."
She turned around, and the eyes nearly popped out of her head. In spite of his attitude toward sex-her father had said he had no known girlfriends-Frank owned more than a fair share of the essential equipment and it seemed to be in excellent condition. Many a woman, Audrey mused, would be delighted to get her hands-and more-on what he apparently chose to withhold from them.
"Do you think it's a nice one?" he demanded, watching her reaction very closely.
She eyed the strange penis. "It ... looks very large, Frank. I-I never realized before what a big man you are. Yes, I'd say it's a nice one."
Grimes' deep-set, almost cavernous black eyes began to glow with some mysterious inner fire. "Will you do things to it? Without being forced?"
Audrey swallowed twice before she could get the words out. She hoped they sounded sincere. "Sure, if you want me to. You should have asked me a long time ago. We could have gone up to my room and-and taken all our clothes off. We could have had a lot of fun with that nice big thing." She glanced at the big organ and saw an unmistakable stirring. He was on the verge of getting very excited.
Just a little more butter, she thought, and he may get careless enough for me to make a break for it. When that chance came, Audrey decided, she'd make for the woods and try to find her way back to the road in order to watch for Blaine arriving, and warn him.
Frank, however, was shaking his head. A look of cunning had come across his face. "I know you're thinking of trying to escape. Baby, get it out of your head. I'd catch you very quickly. I can run a lot faster than you and I know these woods well. I'd have to bring you back and shoot you in the leg. That could hurt a lot. I don't have any pain-killers around, either, other than another bullet in the head. That's something to think about, isn't it?"
His tone stayed warm, but the words chilled her to the bone. Equally chilling was the way he seemed to read her very thoughts. Audrey wondered if a certain type of insanity provided its victim with working extrasensory powers. "I-I won't try to escape, Frank. I promise. God knows, I don't want to be shot in the leg."
Grimes grinned in triumphant, wolfish fashion. "That's a good girl. Now come over here and let me feel both of your lovely legs."
Each step was an effort, but she walked to him and stood with her feet wide apart, avoiding his gaze and trying not to tremble. If the truth were known, she was scared to death. This man had murdered another human being with a coat-hanger. Coat-hangers, she remembered, left no fingerprints. But Frank didn't seem interested in killing her. At least not right away. His hands worked their way up the nylons and for a long time caressed the smooth, bare skin. Then they moved over her panties.
"I like watching women do this to each other," he remarked. "This and all the other things they do." Grimes smiled. Both hands were inside her panties now, the one between her thighs, searching for her slit, the other squeezing the cheeks of her buttocks from behind. "Do you ever do it with women, my dear? A little honesty never hurt anyone."
Audrey shook her head, going tense as a big digit went inside her cunt and lightly stroked her clitoris. "No," she lied. "Never."
Frank's expression turned sulky, but he seemed inclined to believe her. "I wish I had another woman here. The two of you could do things to one another and I could shoot the works. Hot damn! Talk about footage!"
She moistened her lip, responding a little in spite of herself to the finger in her slit, digging and probing at her, and the palm wrapped around her buttocks, moving back and forth from one to the other. "If you'd trust me, Frank, I could go find one. We-we could go together. I lied to you a minute ago. I have done it with other girls, and I-I loved it. Remember pretty little Sarah at the hotel? She's a lez and she's hot as fire when she takes her panties off. I should know. I've had her twice."
Grimes bared his teeth in a grin that wasn't. "You must think I'm crazy. Well, baby, I'm not crazy. A crazy man can't plan and I can still plan with the best of them. You're staying right here until I'm sa-tisifed. And that may not be for days." He gave her clitoris a particularly ungentle swipe. "Just for that, I'm going out later to gather a bundle of switches. I'll take your panties off and give you a switching that will make you scream and dance. Oh, we're going to have ourselves a time, we are."
Audrey realized that, for all his insanity, Frank was still a wily one and would be difficult to outsmart. The threat about switching had put her on the alert. He might have genuine sadistic tendencies.
He had two fingers inside her slit now, and a thumb over her clitoris. He was making her jerk and twitch with almost ridiculous ease. "I think I'd like a close look at you right here. In a little while, I'll take your panties off and make you stand with your legs open. That way, I can look my fill, maybe get a close-up with the camera. Would you like that, Miss North?" Frank cackled. "Yes, I can see from the look in your eye that you'd like that very much."
Audrey closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that Blaine would find her before all these things, these vile, unspeakable things, happened to her.
"Open your eyes!" Grimes said sharply, removing his left hand from her panties to rap her on the backside. "Keep them open. I want you to see everything that's happening to you, the expression on my face and all the rest. Let's go outside so I can see you again in the sunlight." He gave her a push which nearly sent her sprawling. "Move!"
For a moment, she hesitated. But she saw the anger come back into his face and wisely did as he told her, walking to the door with Frank close behind her, a hand cupping one cheek through the panties. He directed her out the door and around the cottage, into a little clearing where the grass was short.
"This is as good a place as any. Take off your panties and show me how pretty you are."
Audrey looked around, but she saw no one who could help her. Shrugging, she bent from the waist and pushed her panties down until they fell at her feet. Stooping, she pulled them off and would have dropped them on the grass, only he took them from her and crumpled them in his hand.
"I like the feel of these," he said, grinning, "especially when they're still warm like this. Sometimes I steal panties out of rooms at the hotel. I have a big collection at home. I'm going to keep yours when you're finished with them. Maybe I'll even wear them, seeing as how yours are a little something special." Grimes laughed so hard his penis jiggled, but he wasn't hard yet.
She wondered about that. Here was a man who obviously loved to look at naked women and couples making love, but he was, so far, impotent. But lots of men were impotent, some for psychological reasons, others because of accidents or wars. Frank Grimes might have an old war injury no one knew about. Not that an injury excused his behavior. Nothing justified murder and kidnapping.
"Open your thighs, please. Hold your legs far apart."
Trembling, Audrey obeyed. Frank came close to sit down in front of her. By craning his neck, he could gaze up into the secret recess of her womanhood, which seemed a strange way for an impotent man to get his kicks-unless the gazing soon solved his problem. She felt his eyes on her, then his fingers as he opened, parted and probed.
"You're wet," he remarked, apparently pleased by the fact. "Wet enough to be screwed into the ground."
She watched his cock, but it stayed limp. For all his size and strength, Frank couldn't get it up. It went without saying that a man who couldn't get it up couldn't fuck. It went without saying, too, that he was probably depressed by the fact. She had to be very careful here. One curl of her lip, and he might beat her to death there on the spot.
After fondling her for a few minutes, with no visible change in the size of his penis, he abruptly stood up, ordering her back into the cottage. While she watched, he opened a familiar-looking suitcase, removed the Bolex and its attachments from inside and loaded it with film. Then he told her to put her dress back on. Audrey guessed that she was about to make her screen debut as a stripteaser. It wasn't exactly the sort of career she would have chosen for herself, but she had no choice in the matter. He handed the panties to her first and she put them on.
In dress and panties, she walked ahead of him back out to the lawn, which was to be their set. Frank checked the light with a meter and made some adjustments to the camera while she gazed longingly at the forest, mentally calculating her chances of making it.
Grimes looked up, as though reading her mind again, and shook his head. "Uh-uh, I'd have to shoot you. We can't make a movie with a lot of blood, can we? Of course not. Now be a good girl and pull up your dress. Do it with a little style and we'll be finished that much sooner."
Resigning herself to it, Audrey pulled her dress up about her waist, parading back and forth with a frozen smile on her face. The camera began to whir as it recorded close-up views of her legs and thighs. When he'd filmed enough of this, Frank made her open the top of her dress and fondle her breasts while he cranked furiously. When she happened to glance at him, Audrey was amazed. Whereas before he was absolutely soft, now Frank owned a truly formidable hardon. The prick between his legs fairly strained with life.
He laughed at her incredulity. "Oh, I can get it up all right, under the right circumstances. Now take your dress off. But do it slowly and keep smiling while you do it.
Shaking with fear, she began to remove it, remembering to do it slowly so he'd have no reason to come after her. If he tried to stuff his oversized organ into her vagina, she knew she'd start screaming. And if she started screaming, he'd probably kill her. She dropped the dress to the grass and was permitted to rest for a minute while he reloaded the camera.
They it was back to work. He made her fondle her breasts in various ways until the nipples swelled in spite of her disgust. Then he made her twist and turn her body to provide maximum titillation as the big melons swayed and bounced. He made her use her fingers to press and knead the nipples until they were large again, after which he ordered her to carry each one to her mouth and lick at it.
Frank made such a production of removing her panties that it was necessary to load the camera again. "Because you've been such a trouper, I'm going to let you keep your garter belt and nylons on," he said. "Call it an incentive bonus."
Audrey didn't know what to call it, and she saw no reason to be grateful for the "courtesy." For the next hour, he made her assume every imaginable pose and bare every secret to the probing lens of his camera. Standing, bending, sitting, kneeling and lying, she went through the entire range of poses while Frank, perspiration running down his naked body in rivulets, continued to shoot. Despite her protests, she was forced to use a finger on her slit. It seemed that he was able to come up with a new form of depravity every minute, and she had no noice but to go along.
When he called another break to reload the camera, Frank attached a long cable release and a spring-operated winding mechanism. Audrey guessed that he was about to get in the picture now, and her revulsion mounted. Would Blaine never get there in time?
"I can't wait!" Grimes panted. "I have to do it now or I'll go out of my mind!" He pointed to the place on the grass. "Lie down on your belly. Hurry!"
Afraid to think of what was coming next, she did as she was told. A moment later, he knelt astride her thighs. Peeking over her shoulder, she glimpsed his gigantic penis poised above her buttocks. Groaning to herself, Audrey braced for a rear entry she feared would tear her apart. But when she saw Frank's right hand close around the shaft of his cock, she realized he was going to masturbate himself instead. Words couldn't have expressed her heart-felt relief.
Clicking the camera release, Grimes began a rapid, back and-forth motion with his right hand. When he suggested that she turn her head and smile at him while he did it, Audrey complied. She knew the pressure in him had been building for a long time because it wasn't long before she heard him gasp and felt the thick fluid strike the right cheek. Most of the tension went out of him then.
"Did you like it?" he demanded.
Forgetting the answer he wanted, she shook her head. "No, I hated it." The vicious cuff she received neither surprised nor intimidated her. She wasn't afraid of him anymore.
"Stupid cunt!" he snarled at her. "Go into the cottage!"
She stumbled back into the cottage with her clothes in her arms. Although he refused to let her bathe, Frank insisted that she put her bra and panties back on and prepare dinner for him. She found the cupboard well stocked with canned goods, and set about opening some. Grimes, meanwhile, sat near the door without a stitch, staring at her in a peculiar, almost vacant manner.
CHAPTER TEN
While they were eating, Frank announced that he had a special treat for her. "You liked my movies so well, I'm going to let you see the rest of them." He grinned around a mouth of corned beef hash. "And don't worry. There'll be no duplication. I saw the ones you marked. You won't have to watch those again right away. Later maybe, but not tonight."
Audrey nearly choked on her own mouthful of hash. She didn't want to see any more of Frank's horrible movies, not while he was slavering over her shoulder or pawing at her. But she forced herself to nod agreement. "If that's what you want me to do. I'll do whatever you want me to do."
Grimes' grin faded. "Of course you will!" he shouted at her. "You'll do whatever I want you to do and when I want you to do it! Now clear the table!"
With his baleful stare upon her, she cleared the table.
As he selected the first reel of film and began threading it into the projector, Audrey noticed the first signs of arousal in him-his huge prick was beginning to get hard again. But she wondered if maybe this time he wouldn't try to put it in her. She dreaded the prospect of a night with an insatiable Frank Grimes.
Frank smiled. "Yes, I can do it that way, too. But I'd rather jerk off than anything else. That's how I first learned to do it, you see. I never really learned to like it any other way. Silly of me, I suppose, but who's to say what's normal and what isn't?"
Audrey nodded as though she were listening to every word, but all the time she was frantically thinking. Surely by now her father would have alerted the police. He would have told Blaine, and Blaine would have come looking for her. But would he know where to start? If Amos North knew about this cottage, rescue might be just minutes away. Otherwise. ,: . .
Grimes had finished threading the projector and was going now to bar the door and turn off the light. He motioned toward the couch. "Over there. I want you to stand, not sit. I can do more that way."
She stood where he wanted her, and Frank, a flashlight in his hand, plunged the room into darkness. After switching on the projector, he sat down on the couch to take her by the hand and yank her closer, laughing as the first, blank frames flashed across the wall screen.
"Move your feet farther apart," he told her. "I want to be able to feel your panties awhile before we take them off. You know-feel them get wet."
Audrey's face flamed in the darkness, and she was glad he couldn't see. But she did as she was ordered.
While the film was getting underway, he stroked her nylons and the naked skin above, running his hands all over her panties. The picture was slightly out of focus, so he got up to adjust it. When he returned, Audrey smothered a gasp. She recognized on the screen a girl named Bonnie, an attractive blonde just two months older than herself. She and Bonnie had dated together as kids, graduated from high school as young women and drifted apart when each went off to a different college.
The idea of Bonnie being in a hotel room with two men was a jolt, but Audrey received an even bigger one when the older of the two men took out his wallet and counted out a pile of money into her waiting hand. With a smile, Bonnie tucked it into her purse and began unfastening her dress. In bra and panties, she permitted the men to admire and explore her magnificent figure. Then she sat on a chair arm and waited while both the men stripped naked to display their readiness for action-both owned huge, swollen hardons.
As she watched, still a little incredulous, Audrey felt Frank rubbing her in a more frantic way. From time to time, he added stinging pinches to his patting. On the screen, Bonnie strolled across the room to join the two men beside the bed. One of them had just tossed a coin and Bonnie laughed at some comment the other man made.
While one customer unfastened her bra and removed it to reveal lovely firm breasts, the other bent to strip the black lace panties down her thighs. Young Bonnie, Audrey realized, had developed into a very beautiful prostitute. She couldn't help wondering how it had happened. Her father would be furious to know that the North Shamrock was being used for prostitution-among other things.
The three of them-Bonnie and her two patrons-got onto the bed and Bonnie stretched out to receive their attentions. Her amiable expression indicated that she was quite pleased. One man knelt beside her and fondled her breasts until the tips swelled to obvious life. As soon as his hands achieved this result, the man lowered his mouth to drink in the nipples one at a time.
But his friend wasn't chafing for action, either. The younger man had raised and parted Bonnie's thighs and his face was buried deep between them. His hands, meanwhile, fondled her thighs and buttocks. The actions of the two men were causing Bonnie to toss and writhe. If she was faking it, even Audrey couldn't tell.
When they'd finished with the preliminaries, the younger man knelt between Bonnie's thighs, aimed his penis at her glistening slit, and thrust inside. She accepted him easily and he was soon slamming in and out of her with the regularity of a piston, while the older man sat beside them and watched. The act required just a few minutes for completion, after which the first man crawled down off Bonnie with a satisfied look on his face and made room for his friend.
The older man engaged Bonnie in conversation for a minute, apparently making some request of her. Then he lay on his back on the bed. With a smile, Bonnie bent over him. One hand caught his rigid phallus, the other cupped his balls. Her mouth opened wide and lowered to capture him. Bonnie's jaw began to work while her hands continued to hold him. Mouth and hands maintained an easy up-and-down motion until the man climaxed, jerking his hands and flopping his head. The movie ended with both men dressed and Bonnie sitting on the bed edge with her legs crossed, lighting a cigarette.
More movies followed. For an agonizing hour, Audrey was forced to view one reel after another. During the course of the viewing, Frank took off her bra and panties and began fondling her body, becoming more and more excited. Finally he got up to turn on a light. The gleam in his eye frightened her more than the extent of his arousal when he returned to sit down once more.
"Kneel down in front of me!" he said urgently. "I wanted to wait, but I can't wait. I have to do it now."
Audrey saw his hand holding his penis, and knew what he was going to do. The idea of kneeling in front of him while he masturbated filled her with revulsion and terror.
There was another film running in the projector, but the room was too full of light to make out the action. Frank wasn't watching the movie, anyway. His eyes were glued on her and her panties. "Face me!" he commanded. "I want you to look straight at me while I do it. Face me, damn you!"
She faced him, but her hyper-tuned senses picked up a stealthy sound outside which might have been a footstep. Audrey held her breath to see if Frank had heard it, too, but he was breathing too noisily to hear anything. She began to breathe that way, too, hoping to help cover the sound of a rescue.
"Watch me! See how I do it?" Grimes maintained a steady patter while his hand worked. "Get ready now! This time, I'm going to let it go! Keep watching! It looks so nice when it comes out!"
He was raving now and she felt the chill of terror grip her. Directly below her face she saw the full redness of his organ and it made her shiver. His right hand had become a blur of motion, completing a stroke, starting another, completing it, starting another. Frank panted as he worked, too excited to hear a shoulder being applied to the cottage door. But Audrey heard it. "Blaine!" she screamed. "Blaine, please help me!"
The bar across the door splintered and Blaine Marsh came bounding into the room. Frank leaped to his feet, but there was nowhere to go. He had set his trap and now he was caught in it. Trying to back away, bumping into the projector and knocking it down, sending himself sprawling in the bargain, he made a pitiful sight.
"Baby, are you all right?" Marsh yelled.
Audrey's lips began to tremble so that she could barely get the words out. "Y-Yes!" she sobbed, dissolving into tears. "I'm fine. Scared, but fine. He-he...." She bowed her head and began to cry, even though Blaine's arms were around her and she was safe now.
Marsh pulled a small automatic from his pocket and held it at the ready. "I didn't bring the police. We'll have to tie him up and take him back with us. Are you sure you're all right? If you can keep your feet, how about finding the rest of your clothes so we can get out of here?"
She got her clothes together, and with trembling fingers, was putting them back on when Frank Grimes made his move. With an animal scream of rage, he threw himself at Blaine from belt level. Caught off guard, the latter went stumbling backward and the gun fell to the floor. While he scrambled after it, Frank broke for the door. Blaine got off one wild shot which missed and Grimes was swallowed up by the night.
"No!" Audrey cried when her man would have gone after him. "He has no money and he's not wearing a stitch. If we stay here until the police arrive, they'll have no trouble finding him."
Marsh flipped the automatic's safety and returned it to his pocket. "I guess you're right. I'd rather not look at him again myself. Well, how do you want it, and when?"
She stared at him. "What?"
"The spanking you're going to get for leaving my room without permission, involving me in all this. When do you want it? Now or later?"
Audrey blushed. "Later, darling. I want it later."
Long after the incident was over, far into the wee hours of the morning, she lay with him on the bed in the safety of his suite and relived the ordeal. Frank was in custody now, charged with kidnapping and suspicion of murder, but the memory still made her tremble.
"So he didn't rape you," Blaine mused, blowing cigarette smoke toward the ceiling.
Audrey shivered. "No. But I think he would have, if ... oh, it was horrible! I want to look at his employment record someday, to see how long he was with us. Daddy isn't nearly as good a judge of character as he thinks he is."
Marsh snorted. "He hired me, didn't he? And I've panned out okay, haven't I?"
She considered the question. It was hard to be objective when you were lying alongside the asker and he was bare as a baby's bottom. "I'm not sure," she teased, when in fact she knew Blaine Marsh was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her. "Ask me again in an hour or two or three. Pick a number."
"Oh, I'll pick a number all right!" Marsh said warmly. "The number has to do with the number of whacks I should put on your backside!"
"Come again?" Audrey taunted, hoping to provoke him into actually doing it.
He prodded her. "On your back, please, and let's get it over with. Try to hold me off, and I'll really blister your soft little fanny. Come on now."
She rolled across the bed and kicked out at him, but he easily held her down. The sheer strength of him got to her now, and she realized how easily he could hurt her. This wasn't two girls tussling with one another, this was a man about to dominate his woman whether she wanted to be dominated or not. "Blaine!" Audrey gasped. "You're not playing!"
Marsh laughed. "No, baby, I'm not playing. I really do mean to tan some of the brat out of you." He grabbed her then and threw her on her belly. Before she could wriggled away or conjure up any fantasies she had of being spanked by the man she loved, he laid a dozen fierce ones across her rounded buttocks. In the quiet room, the spanks sounded like rifle shots.
Audrey was stunned. Not only was she not turned on, the blows actually hurt. "Oh, you've ruined it!" she wept. "It could have been so beautiful, but you've ruined it!"
Blaine turned her over again to gaze down into her eyes. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.
She gulped, not knowing how to explain it. "I thought-I thought we'd be getting it on by now, that I'd be terribly excited and all. Creaming for you. But all I feel is-well, it hurts! Damn you, Blaine Marsh!"
He chuckled, taking her cheek between thumb and forefinger, and squeezing lightly. "That means I've cured you. You're normal again. You won't be fit target for the Bowman doll anymore. Now we can get married and start building a bigger North Shamrock out on Route 98. Your old man's told me all about the master plan."
Audrey's eyes widened. "You knew about Sarah?"
Marsh nodded. "Those things have a way of getting around. But I don't mind. Provided you're really cured, that is. For a man and a woman, there're better ways to give one another a thrill. It starts like this."
