One guy insisted she sit in a tub of water, almost too hot for Erica to stand, until the lower part of her abdomen was a brilliant pink. They he'd quickly get her into bed. There were also Ultra's bizarre sexual needs for Erica to take care of. He invited a girl up to the Chicky penthouse to take part in a trio.
Her name was Liv and she was a beautiful import from Norway. Liv was beautifully proportioned and while her boobs weren't nearly as big as Erica's they certainly were not small. They had wide, pink areolas and larger than average nipples that seemed to be perpetually erect.
It didn't take long for the two of them to get their clothes off and into bed with Ultra. He stretched out on the mattress and told the two girls he was just going to lie there and they could let their imagination run wild.
He didn't know what he was in for....
CHAPTER ONE
Erica Hunt had a pair of tits that was out of this world. Nobody ever put the tape to them but it's a damn good bet they would have registered a good 38 to 40. That wasn't all. Erica also had long, exquisitely shaped legs, from her trim ankles to her curvaceous thighs. Even a 16-year-old like Reuben Williamson could see that as he stood with his two older brothers, staring down at her as she lay stretched out before them in the loft of their father's barn.
Erica wasn't entirely nude. She had on a man's rough, plaid workshirt that buttoned down the front. Only it wasn't buttoned now. It was open just enough to reveal her fabulous tits. The shirt, however, was her sole attire. Her blue denims, her white cotton panties and her socks and shoes were scattered about on the floor near where she was lying on the bed of straw that the two older boys had made for her.
Even with all her clothes on, Erica had a certain cockteasing allure about her. Now, with her legs spread wide apart and drawn up at the knees, she was an exciting sight even for Hank and Aaron, Reuben's two older brothers, who had seen her like this on numerous occasions.
Aside from her other physical attributes, Erica had a considerable growth of pubic hair for a 19-year-old girl. It was shades darker than the long, brown hair atop her pretty head and extended upward over her pancake flat abdomen and downward between her thighs, half hiding her appetizing, pink cunt, the lips of which were open and glistening wet in the rays of the warm, late afternoon sun.
With her interlaced hands behind her, pillowing her pretty head, Erica kept looking up at Reuben, smiling at his apparent discomfort. His boyish face was flushed and covered with beads of perspiration and because of his apprehension there was a noticeable absence of any protrusion in the front of his workpants. As a matter-of-fact, his two brothers-neither of whom were wearing pants or even shorts-had limp pricks, too. But not because they were apprehensive. Their reason was entirely different. They had just screwed the girl, as they'd done regularly for the past three months.
Hank, the oldest of the three brothers, started it all when Erica first came to work on the Williamson farm, directly from the Happy Heart Orphanage. It was the third night she was there that Hank, who was the same age, climbed the stairs to her attic room, tiptoed to her cot and awakened her from a sound sleep. With a sweaty hand clamped over her mouth, he warned her that if she made a peep, he'd tell his mother and father that she invited him to her room and she'd be on her way back to the orphanage come morning.
The orphanage was the very last place in the world that Erica wanted to go. She'd spent the last eleven years of her life there and, even though she had only two more years to go before she'd be permanently released, she was determined that, no matter what, she would never go back there. For the older girls like herself, the orphanage offered a regimentation that was worse than a prison. Life, from dawn until sundown, was confinement and misery, seven days a week. They were forced to do everything-cooking meals, scrubbing floors, cleaning up after the younger children who couldn't help themselves. That included washing crappers and changing sheets and mattresses when kids pissed in bed.
For the least infraction of the rules severe penalties were inflicted-sometimes physical, sometimes a denial of "privileges" of which there were precious few. On top of all that, the grubby man in charge of the orphanage, while he might never have actually fucked any of the young female charges, liked to squeeze their titties and goose them, front and back, with his unclean hands. Erica, with her oversized boobs, could always be sure of receiving more than her share of manhandling.
So, with Hank's threat stamped indelibly on her mind, Erica allowed Hank to get in bed with her, take off her flannel nightgown and kiss her beautiful, big breasts while fingerfucking her cunt to wetness. Hank didn't fuck her that first night. He was satisfied to have her take his hard, fat cock in her hand and masturbate him.
For Erica it was a new experience to slide her hand along his cock the way he showed her. As she stroked gently, she could feel his mounting pleasure. His prick throbbed and in the faint moonlight that filtered through the room's lone window she could see his face, taut and expectant.
After years of imaginings, for the first time Erica was finding out what it was like to hold a real, live prick in her palm. As it began to throb and the purplish head swelled to alarming proportions, she could feel her pulse pump faster with the knowledge that an exciting, new thrill was at hand.
Hank groaned under her stroking and tensed anew as he panted, " faster ... faster...."
As her right hand sped along his hard, slippery cock, she ventured to slip her left hand under his balls and jiggle them gently. He grabbed frantically at her naked breasts and squeezed them together, his fingers bruising her flesh. But she didn't really mind because she was getting almost as hot as he was. And then-suddenly, he groaned and sperm spurted in great blobbing gushes as she brought him off with a few short, quick strokes. She saw the pearly droplets splatter on his thighs and belly, the excess soaking her hand as it ran from the open tip.
She held him that way, straight up in the air, until the last of his cum had flowed out of him and he pushed away her hands and lay weak and helpless before her on the bed, his cock wilting and dropping down between his legs, spent. She couldn't help but feel a slight surge of womanly superiority because she had reduced him to this state. She lay back on the bed beside him, strangely not embarrassed or ashamed of what she'd done. In fact, she wished that now he'd bring relief to her.
She had often wondered what it would be like to have a member of the opposite sex make her cum. After "lights out" at the orphanage, she'd tried mutual masturbation with some of the other girls. But she always felt that with a male it would be much different, much more exciting. However, her hopes that first night were thwarted when Hank put on his pajama bottoms and slipped out of her bedroom, leaving her there frustrated.
It wasn't until his third visit to her room that he fucked her. It was disappointing for her. He was nervous and awkward and came before her orgasm even had a chance to catch on.
It was one night toward the end of the second week of these clandestine trysts that Aaron stopped his brother as he was stealing up the stairs to Erica's room. Aaron was eighteen and usually the more aggressive of the three brothers.
"You've been goin' up to her room almost every night for the past coupla weeks," Aaron whispered. "Now you're gonna let me go up there-or I spread the alarm to Ma and Pa."
Erica was surprised to see Aaron instead of Hank. The last few nights she had been leaving her nightie off so she wouldn't have to waste time taking it off after he got there. But tonight she was embarrassed when she saw Aaron come into the room and she made a grab for the nightie at the foot of the bed. But as she leaned forward Aaron could see that she didn't have a thing on, because her back was bare clear down to the crack of her ass.
He got onto the bed and, after a slight tussle, stripped the covers off her and hovered over her, eyeing her naked body hungrily. He pinioned her to the bed and kissed her hard, possessively, taking away her breath. When finally he drew back from her he said, "I know what you and Hank've been doing up here every night. And now you're gonna be nice to me or my old lady and old man'll hear about it."
Then he undid the brass buttons on the fly of his Levis and fished out his cock. Even though he was a whole year younger than his brother, his cock was bigger, hard and wet with pre-cum drool. Right from the start, Erica could see that Aaron knew his way around a hell of a lot better than Hank. What Erica didn't know, because the story was hushed up, was that when he was sixteen Aaron had knocked up a fourteen-year-old girl in the village. He would have been put away if it hadn't been for the fact that the girl's parents were poor dirt farmers and the thousand dollars that Aaron's old man gave them to keep silent and let their daughter have an abortion looked like all the money in the world to them.
In bed with Erica, Aaron dragged his big, wet prick over her breasts and belly, leaving a trail of pre-cum behind. Then he splayed her thighs apart, got between them and fitted his pulsing cock into the velvet lining of her box. She fitted him snugly inside her, lifting her buttocks off the cot without a conscious thought and wetting the length of him with her hot juices, posting with him as he began to pump against her.
He wasn't in the frantic rush that his brother was always in. He moved against her with an easy, languid rhythm that enabled her to rub her clitoris back and forth over his hard cock, causing her a pleasant stimulation that she had never known with Hank. She didn't care if it ever ended.
It was even more wonderful when he began to ejaculate, because it triggered her and helped her achieve her own orgasm. It was the supreme moment for her. She felt as if she couldn't possibly stand any more stimulation. The contractions in her cunt, while not as violent as those in Aaron's prick, spread through her body like forks of electricity. She could feel his body quiver in rhythm with his discharges-warm, almost hot liquid, spurting against the flaming walls of her vagina.
It was gloriously soothing and refreshing after the voluptuous feeling she had just enjoyed. It allowed her to receive additional pleasant sensations from his final, weaker releases. During the whole time, Erica tried to squeeze his prick as much as possible, hoping to milk out every last possible drop. This also helped her to enjoy her climax to the utmost, even after Aaron completed his and his prick had shriveled and he had withdrawn.
They say that a woman never forgets the man who first screwed her. But in Erica's case it was not true. She would not remember Hank, who took her cherry. She would remember his brother, who brought her the first orgasm and taught her how very beautiful a piece of ass could be.
The experience had other rewards, too, aside from discovering how pleasurable a screw could be. It taught Erica what to strive for when a man was fucking her-how to control the situation and make him do it the way she wanted it to be done, so that she could get as much enjoyment out of it as he did. After one or two more visits to her room, she even taught Hank to screw her the way she wanted him to, and it got to be a toss-up which of the two she enjoyed the most.
Then, after Erica had been at the farm for about three months, Hank and Aaron spirited her away from her chores and got her to go up into the loft of the barn with them.
"Aaron's got something he wants to try out," Hank said to her after they got up into the loft.
"Yeh," Aaron supplemented. "I sent away for a book. And it's a damn good thing it came when the old man wasn't around."
"What kind of a book is it?" Erica wanted to know.
"Just a book," Aaron tossed off.
"It's about sex," Hank interceded.
Aaron shrugged. "Okay, so it's about sex. It's about what they call'troilism'."
"What's that?" Erica wanted to know.
"Two guys doing a girl," Hank replied.
"At the same time?" Erica exacted with amazement.
"Yeh, at the same time," Aaron told her.
"One guy in front, one guy in back," Hank tacked on.
Erica looked at first one brother, then the other, and she let out a little gasp. "Gosh...."
"They say it's the girl that gets the biggest jolt out of it," Hank pointed out as he stepped up to her and felt her big, juicy breasts through her plaid shirt.
She liked having her tits played with-after she was worked up. But it always shocked her a little when somebody just grabbed at them and started squeezing them like they were a couple of sponge balls the way Aaron was doing.
She was suddenly aware of Hank closing in behind her, pressing his hard cock against her buttocks. She could feel the heat and size of it through the coarse material of his jeans as he fitted it in the crease of her ass.
"We thought maybe you'd like to try it," Aaron suggested as he began unbuttoning the front of her shirt, viewing the white fleshiness of her voluptuous breasts that swelled over the top of her bra.
She could feel Hank's hands coming around from behind her to unbutton the fly of her Levis. She covered his hand with her own in an effort to stay him.
"I-I don't know," she stammered. Even though she'd been servicing the two of them for the past three months, it had always been just one at a time. This was the first time they'd ever ganged up on her this way. It frightened her a little, too, to think of anybody sticking their prick in her ass. She'd heard that some people liked it that way, that it was a method among the Creeks. But she wasn't at all sure whether she'd like being reamed. Not any more than she was sure she'd like having the two of them get into her at the same time.
However, it didn't look as if it made much difference how she felt or what her answer might be. Because they went right on undressing her. Once her shirt was open, Aaron reached back, unsnapped her bra and let her big, white breasts spring free. He went to an awful lot of trouble-removing her shirt, slipping off her bra and then putting her shirt back on her. "I like to see your tits bounce around under your shirt," he said.
While Aaron went to make up a bed of straw for her to lie on, his brother continued taking off her jeans, her panties and even her socks and loafers. When she was stripped, except for her plaid shirt, Hank couldn't resist running a hand downward over her smooth belly and through her luxurious muff. Then he and his brother placed her down gently on the bed of straw. They took turns kissing her lips, her breasts and her tummy, while they fingered the intimate parts of her body. She twisted squirmed and panted under their caressing, until she was turned into a flaming torch of human flesh, beyond caring any longer what they did to her.
At that point, Aaron pulled down his workpants and shorts and stretched out on his back in the straw, his fat cock curling up out of the coarse hair that covered his crotch. With Hank's help she managed to crawl atop his brother and straddle him, rubbing her wet box against his belly in a kind of frenzy, until Hank grabbed her hips, moved her back and fitted her cunt to Aaron's tall stalk. She slid in the entire length of it as easily as she might slide down a greased pole, burying every last inch of his throbbing cock in her belly.
Reaching up with both hands, Aaron pulled her forward so that he could kiss her parted lips and feed her his tongue while her breasts squashed down against his strong chest. Then, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, he held her so she couldn't get away while Hank rubbed goose-grease over her buttocks and into her anus.
She tensed as she felt the drooling head of Hank's prick brush against her upraised cheeks and then slide into the tight hole between them. "Oh no ... oh no ... please...."
But Hank didn't hear her. He kept pushing in, pulling back, pushing in, pulling back, as he inched into her tight asshole. She kept whimpering until she had accepted all of him. Then he reached up under her between her and his brother and began massaging her tits as the two of them began moving against her at the same time. But it wasn't until she had established the rhythm for the three of them that she began to enjoy it. Then, as pleasure began to mount, the most incredible sensation she had ever known began to take hold of her. It was, as if the two of them were determined to give her a taste of unendurable pleasure, indefinitely prolonged, and maybe drive her crazy in the process.
She lost count of how many orgasms she had before she felt Aaron's prick swell in her pussy and begin to cough out what must have been quarts of scalding cum into the depths of her cunt. While Aaron was still ejaculating, Hank came in her ass, almost making her faint with the force of the cum he shot into her fat, white ass. All the time she was thumping out her own orgasm, moaning as she twisted and turned.
CHAPTER TWO
It was after it was all over and the three of them were lying in the straw with Erica between them that they suddenly became aware that someone was watching them. Hank bolted up first and growled, "Reuben!"
Erica and Aaron arose at once, and the three of them sat staring at the youngest of the three brothers, who was standing a few feet from the ladder that led down out of the loft.
"How the hell long've you been standing there?" Hank demanded.
"Long enough," Reuben replied with an expression that told he wasn't sure whether to stay or run.
"Y'know what happens to kids who sneak around and spy on their older brothers?" Hank said menacingly as he got to his feet, his limp prick hanging down between his spindly legs.
"I wasn't sneakin' ... and I wasn't spyin," Reuben shot back at his elder brother. "Pa sent me to find you-"
"Pa's home?" Aaron interrupted with concern as he, too, got to his feet, his cock as limp as his brother's.
"He got home about fifteen minutes ago, brought that man from the tractor company with him. Pa's decided to buy one of the tractors and wants you to see which one you think he oughta get, and, like I said, he sent me lookin' for you," Reuben explained. He wasn't nearly as tall or as filled out as his brothers. In fact, even for a sixteen-year-old, he was undersized and undernourished looking.
"Okay, so you found us," Hank rumbled. "What're you gonna do about it? I suppose you're gonna run home and tell Pa we're up here and what you saw us doing?"
Reuben's hot gaze was focused on Erica's white legs and her breasts peeking out from the folds of her open shirt front. He swallowed, "I-I ain't gonna say nothin' to nobody."
Aaron had keen eyes that didn't miss the rising swell in the right leg of Reuben's workpants. He grinned and said, "Maybe we oughta make sure."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hank asked.
Aaron turned and looked down at Erica, who was still sitting on the floor in the straw, holding the shirt closed in front of her. "Think you could handle another customer?"
Erica's gaze followed Aaron's eyes to his young brother. She blinked. "You mean-him?"
"Hey, that's a damn good idea!" Hank exclaimed.
Aaron returned his gaze to the girl. "Think you can?"
She didn't answer him. She just kept looking at the younger boy.
"What d'ya say, Reuben?" Aaron asked. "Think you'd like to fuck Erica?"
Reuben swallowed and kept staring at Erica, the bone slowly fading from his penis inside his pants.
"Sure he would!" Hank declared. He hurried forward and with an arm draped around his kid brother's shoulder he led him forward.
Reuben kept staring down at the white form of the girl before him, sweat starting to sprout on his forehead.
Erica smiled as she looked at Reuben. He was kind of cute, she thought, and getting close to the age when he should know what it was like to have a woman. She'd bet he was "cherry," too. It would be nice to know that she was the first woman he ever had. Besides, she didn't have a hell of a lot to say about it-not with his two brothers there.
Still looking up at him, she asked, "Well, darling. They've done all the talking. What have you got to say? Would you or wouldn't you?"
Reuben's eyes flitted from Hank to Aaron. He knew damn well he'd never live it down if he chickened out. So he swallowed and squeaked out, "Okay...."
Erica knelt before him, fumbled a moment with his belt buckle to get it open, then unzipped his fly and let his pants fall down around his ankles. He wasn't wearing any underpants and his boyish penis was as limp as his brothers'.
Erica looked at it disappointedly. "We can't do very much with it like that, can we, darling?"
Reuben gulped. "I-I guess not."
His brothers laughed but Erica hushed them. Then she put one hand under his hanging testicles and with the other hand she lifted his cock. She stroked him a few times and when nothing happened she drew him closer and took his cock between her lips.
"Hey, you never did that to me!" Hank complained. "Or me," Aaron added.
She didn't answer. She just kept sucking on Reuben's cock, rolling it back and forth over her tongue until it began to swell up. Then she took it out of her mouth. Between the time that Aaron was born and Reuben was born, their father had heard that maybe circumcision wasn't the best thing for a boy. Reuben still had his foreskin, which Erica very gently worked back until the knob of his cock was uncovered. She took it back in her mouth again for a few sucks, then she let go of it and fell back onto the bed of straw, parting her thighs and bringing them up at the knees so that Reuben could get his first look at a gushy, wet cunt.
He seemed to get cunt-fever for a moment and froze right there on the spot, staring down at the half-naked female before him, wide-eyed. Hank gave him a shove and said, "Go on-fuck her-keep up the Williamson reputation!"
Erica smiled up at him as he moved forward a couple of inches more and started to bend his knees.
"What in the name of hell is going on up here?"
The words rolled through the length and breadth of the loft like thunder. Everybody froze.
Aaron was the first to move. He twisted and looked back over his shoulder to where the voice came from. His face went white and he began to shiver, head to toe.
"Pa!" was all he could squeeze up past the sponge rubber in his throat.
"Pa?" the word came like an echo from Hank as he turned to look at their father standing in almost the exact spot where Reuben had been standing when he first saw his younger brother.
Reuben was so emotionally upset at the things that were happening around him that he groaned and ejaculated prematurely. He shot his virgin load all over Erica's legs and the floor around her.
Like the others, Erica was too frightened out of her wits to be concerned with Reuben's plight. She simply brought her legs quickly together, pulled the shirt front closed and sat up, staring transfixed as the boys' father came forward, scowling down at her fiercely and with utter disdain.
One of the boys tried to speak. But he shut him up with a voice that rumbled through the loft like the echo of a cannon. "You three get to the house-and get there goddamn fast! I'll settle with you later!"
Then, as the three boys grabbed up their clothes and scampered down the ladder like a trio of frightened rats trying to get away from a sinking ship, Williamson returned his withering gaze to the girl.
"You slut! You little whore!" he roared at her as he moved toward her. "I take you into my house and this is the thanks I get. You bring my three boys up here and corrupt them! You little bitch. You've been throwing those tits and that tight ass of yours up to me ever since you got here. But cause I figured you were just a kid I never bothered you."
He halted in front of her and she bit her lip as his hot eyes raped her gleaming flesh that was so inadequately covered. She knew it would be useless to try to explain to him, convince him that it was his precious sons who brought her up here, who started the whole thing three months ago.
"So," Williamson said as he started to unzip his fly, "you want a man? Okay, I'll give you a man."
He began to move toward her, his face appearing darker than usual. Panic streaked through her as he dug his hand into the opening in his pants and took out his cock. It was a tremendous thing. She once saw the bull out in the pasture. Its cock didn't look any bigger than Sam Williamson's cock looked right now-hard and fat, its bulging head wet and ugly red.
Accommodating someone near her own age like Hank and Aaron was one thing, but she wasn't sure she could take a grown man like their father. She looked about on the floor for her jeans and panties-but they were out of reach. Trying to cover herself with her hands and arms, she crawled backwards away from him until the wall blocked her retreat.
"You bet your little ass I'll give you a man," Williamson promised, a curious glint in his eyes. "I'll give you a fuck that you'll never forget."
"No, Mr. Williamson! Leave me alone-or-or I'll scream!"
"Go ahead-scream your fuckin' head off. There ain't nobody can hear you from up here." His mouth hung slack and his lips were wet.
He was down on the floor now, his hands moving along her bare legs, and she realized she couldn't get away from him. She could only fight. She tried to hit him in the face as he crawled toward her. But he caught her arm and gave it a cruel twist.
"You be good, you little cocksucker," he grated. "Be good or I'll twist your arm right off."
His free arm went around her waist and jerked her to him. She tried to struggle but he was much too strong for her. He kissed her lips. His mouth was wet and his breath was heavy with the stink of tobacco juice and red wine.
He continued to hold her with one hand while he pulled, rubbed and squeezed her breasts into fantastic shapes. Then he left her tits aching and ran his free hand through her furry pelt and into the juicy slit between her legs. He searched and found her clitoris. He rolled it back and forth with his big, calloused fingers until she felt an orgasm catching on. Then he straddled her and moved up until his huge cock was swaying above her face.
She held her breath, her heart hammering in dread anticipation, as he grabbed handfuls of her long, brown hair and forced his cock between her lips. He kept her face locked there against his sweating loins, jabbing into her mouth with short, deliberate thrusts.
She felt as if her mouth were an open wound and he was stabbing her to death. The cock throbbed in her mouth as she felt her teeth scrape back and forth over its sensitive folds. The immense head of his prick was like an enormous wedge being driven into her throat, threatening to tear apart her jaws.
At first, the strong, acrid taste of him repelled her and she thought she was going to be sick. But, little by little, she found herself getting used to it, even to the point of enjoying it somewhat. She began sucking, rolling the giant head of it around on her tongue.
"You bitch! You cocksuckin' bitch!" he grunted as he kept pumping into her protesting throat. "You're trying to make me cum. You figure if I blow my load in your mouth I won't be able to cum in your cunt ... we'll see!" Roughly, without regard for her feelings, he yanked her hair and pulled her lips, open and gasping, from his swollen cock. "Lick it. Just use your tongue on the tip. Gwan!"
He held her just far enough away so that she could lave the enormous, wet head of his prick with her tongue. She kept it up for maybe thirty seconds, lapping at him, moaning, wanting to take him back into her mouth again.
"Faster ... faster ... oooh-you bitch...."
Erica felt the sticky, white liquid shoot out of him, drenching her lips, trickling down over her chin onto her breasts. Something seemed to snap inside her and she became crazed with passion. As he lessened his hold on her hair she moved forward and caught his dying tool in her mouth, sucking, draining his juice completely.
By his expression, her suctioning mouth was a torture of exquisite delight, and even before the last trace of cum flowed out of him his cock stiffened again.
Williamson pushed the girl away from him. She lay back on the straw, making herself ready to be ravished by his large cock.
He shifted his position until he was kneeling between her legs. He looked down at her yawning, wet cunt.
"Now you'll see what a man-a real man-can do," he told her as he moved one hand to the base of his stiff prick. With the other hand he lifted her slippery buttocks off the floor so that her dewy cunt formed a perfect target for his cock.
Erica groaned in ecstatic relief as she felt him fit his big cock between the grasping lips of her cunt. And he was big! He drilled himself into her wet flesh cruelly, thoughtlessly, the way Hank did the first few times he fucked her. She felt the orgasm that his rough fingers had started revive under the pumping of his cock and she rode its waves tightly to completion, knowing that she would cum again and again and again before he pumped his cum into her cunt.
She was amazed that she was able to adjust to his length so easily, even more astonished that she could even begin to enjoy a man that repulsed her the way he did. Was there something wrong with her? Did she enjoy the sensations of her orgasms too much? Find pleasure in having men use her young flesh any way they wanted to satisfy their lust?
Erica arched her supple back and shuddered from the exquisite pleasure that his erupting cock brought her as he thundered his cum into her broiling cunt....
When it was over, he didn't linger. He wiped the droolings from his prick on the tail of her shirt and got to his feet, tucking his spent cock back into his trousers and zipping his fly. He looked down at her with the same disgust as before.
"Now get your things on," he spit at her contemptuously. "And wait here in the barn 'til I have you picked up and taken back to the orphanage."
She scrambled to her knees, unmindful of her nakedness or her tits that swung out from under her shirt front. "Please, Mr. Williamson-don't make me go back there. Please-I'll do anything...."
"You did plenty already," he retorted. "I wouldn't keep a slut around here another day. Now do what I say and get your clothes on and be ready to leave."
"No ... please...."
His face clouded over and his voice grew harsh. "I said yes! You do what I tell you to do, or I'll beat your ass and your cunt so bad you won't be able to fuck anybody again for months...."
With that, he turned and disappeared down the ladder-leaving Erica lying in the straw, crying her eyes and heart out.
CHAPTER THREE
After Williamson left her, Erica lay on the floor for several minutes, sobbing, dreading the thought of going back to the orphanage. Finally she got up, and as she started to gather together her clothes and put them on, she kept asking herself over and over why she had to go back there. She was nineteen now, and at that age a girl should be able to do what she wanted to do, go where she wanted to go. Why should she have to wait until she was twenty-one before she left the orphanage?
By the time she was dressed her mind was made up. She wasn't going back to the orphanage! She wasn't going to wait for Williamson to have her picked up. She was going to run away.
She went first to the open door that looked out over the farm and took in the big, white house where she'd been living with the family for the past three months. There was a bright-red sports car parked in front of the house, that she guessed must belong to that tractor salesman that Reuben mentioned. But there was no sign of anyone outside. Everybody, she figured, must be in the house, talking with the salesman about the new tractor.
She left the doorway and hurried to the hatch in the floor. She found the rung of the rickety ladder with her foot and descended quickly. Then she hurried to the front door of the barn and scanned the scene before her. The coast was still clear. She could have left that way, but there was a chance that someone might see her from the house. So she hurried to the rear exit and went out.
She cut across the open field with its tall grass that reached over to the top of her head. She kept running for about half a mile until she came out onto the dirt road that encircled the farm and eventually led her to the main highway. She was confident that once she reached the highway, getting a lift wouldn't be too difficult. Several times since she'd been at the farm she'd made the trip to the village and she never had any trouble thumbing a ride.
Of course, it was always a man who offered her a lift-an older man, usually-who'd seen her fantastic breasts, and before the ride was over, invariably made a pass at her. But she guessed she could endure that if it meant getting away and saved her from going back to the orphanage.
Only one thing bothered her. She wished there had been some place back in the barn where she could have cleaned herself after what Hank and Aaron and their father had done to her. The sperm they'd left inside her had made her panties and thighs wet and sticky, so that it was very uncomfortable walking.
From the place where she left the fields to the main highway was about two miles along the dirt road. She covered about half that distance when she heard a car roaring along the road behind her. She didn't think it could be Williamson or any of his sons coming after her, because it didn't sound like the Williamsons' car. Still, she didn't want to take any chances, so she pulled over to the side of the road and tried to hide in the tall weeds until the car passed. But apparently she wasn't quick enough, because as the car drew alongside her it came to a screaming halt.
It wasn't until the dust cleared that Erica recognized the car as the bright-red sports job that had been standing in front of the Williamson house. The man behind the wheel was the tractor salesman. She'd caught a glimpse of him the first day he came to the farm to try to interest Williamson in a new tractor.
She tried to duck farther back into the weeds. But he opened the car door at her side and called out to her. "What're you afraid of?"
She continued to retreat. So he jumped out of the car and came running after her. When he caught up with her he halted and looked down at her, his eyes unmistakably taking in her beautiful bust.
"You're the girl from the Williamson place, aren't you?" he asked. When she didn't answer, he took another look at her breasts and added, "Sure you are. I remember seeing you the first day I visited the place. You were in the kitchen. You were wearing a yellow sweater."
Erica thought that he was very observant. But the truth was that Erica in a yellow sweater as snug as the one she had on that day would be difficult for any man to forget.
"You caused quite a bit of commotion back there at the farm when Mr. Williamson went to the barn and found you gone," he said. "Seems he wanted to send you back to some kind of an orphanage."
Fear leaped into the girl's big, brown eyes. "You're-you're not going to take me back there?"
He looked her over from head to foot. Even in her jeans and wrinkled plaid shirt she was attractive. He shook his head. "No. No point in my taking you back there." He paused and kept studying her. "But suppose you tell me about this place he wanted to send you?"
"The-the orphanage?" Erica got out.
"Yeh. The orphanage."
She looked up at him. She estimated that he must measure about six feet, give or take an inch; his clothes looked expensive and fit his big frame nicely. He was no movie star when it came to looks, still he was far from ugly. He had a nice cut of jaw, an aquiline nose, curved like an eagle's beak, and a generous mouth. She figured he must be somewhere in his mid-thirties. The important thing was he looked like she could trust him. So she gave him a brief rundown on the orphanage and how she'd been "farmed out" to work for the Williamsons.
He listened without interruption until she was finished. Then he introduced himself. "I'm Larry Link. What do they call you?"
She told him.
He smiled ironically and said, "Y'know, Erica, you could have saved yourself a lot of unnecessary footsteps if you'd stayed right in the barn like Mr. Williamson told you."
She tensed and frowned up at him apprehensively. Was he going to take her back to the farm after all? "Mr. Williamson made arrangements with me to drive you back to the orphanage," he continued. Erica swallowed. "And-and are you?"
"What did I tell you before?"
"You promised you wouldn't."
"Right. But I am curious to know exactly where you're planning to go?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I-I guess I didn't stop to think about it very much. I just knew I had to get away."
"Do you have any money?"
She shook her head, brushing her long hair back over her shoulder.
"It's a big, rough world out there," Larry told her philosophically. "Can't get very far without money."
She didn't answer. She just hung her head in silence.
He took her arm in a gentle but firm grip and said, "Suppose we get into my car and talk things over? Maybe we can come up with an answer to your problem."
Erica held back for just a moment, deciding which might be the lesser of the two evils-going with him, a stranger, or staying here to maybe be picked up by the Williamsons? She finally decided to go with him and got into his car.
Larry got the car rolling and drove a short distance before he glanced at her breasts again She was a little self-conscious because the left strap of her bra had snapped. She wasn't sure when it happened-whether it broke while she was going down the ladder, or running across the fields or just a few minutes ago when she tried to duck away from him. She just knew she was having a time trying to keep the cup from sliding down off her left tit.
As they approached the main highway and he came to a full stop, Larry took still another look at her boobs and asked, "How old are you, Erica?"
"Nineteen."
"For sure?"
She bobbed her head up and down. "For sure."
He swung the car into the highway, and as they joined the light flow of traffic, he said, "I'm on my way to Los Angeles." A pause. "Think you'd like to come along with me?"
Erica looked at him strangely. "Whatever would you do with somebody like me in a place like Los Angeles?"
Another glimpse of her breasts and he said significantly, "I'm sure I won't have any trouble figuring something out." He looked at his wristwatch and added, "If your answer's yes, we'll stop overnight in Fresno and drive through to L. A. tomorrow. Okay?"
She twisted and looked up at him for a few moments, considering. After Hank and Aaron and their father, there wasn't very much she had to lose. So she returned her gaze through the windshield, shrugged and said, "Okay ... I suppose...."
They rode for maybe an hour, talking, exchanging generalities. Finally he asked the question that had been bugging him from the first moment he saw her.
"You're kidding, aren't you?" he wanted to know.
"About what?"
His eyes swept to her breasts. "Those. I mean-they can't be real. Not all of them."
She studied his profile as he shifted his gaze back to the roadway ahead. She asked wisely, "You want to touch them, don't you"
He grinned sheepishly and kept looking straight ahead.
By now Erica was used to men using subterfuge to get their hands on her breasts, and since she'd let more than one man feel them she saw no reason why she shouldn't let Larry have his feel. Especially since it was obvious that she was going to have to depend on him to help her get started in a new life.
She wiggled a little closer to him so that he could take one hand off the steering wheel and drape his arm around her shoulders. Then she shrank down in the front seat and turned slightly, so that he could easily brush his fingers over her right breast and examine its round firmness through her shirt and bra. But that didn't satisfy him for long. As he pulled the car over into the right lane and slowed down its speed, he began stroking her long, smooth neck with hjs fingers.
Erica liked his touch because it was gentle, yet, like his grip on her arm when he steered her into the car, .it was definitely sure, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Slowly his hand moved downward, sweeping lightly over her clavicle and then back and forth across her breastbone to the rising swell of her breasts.
Deftly, Larry unfastened the two top buttons on her shirt to allow his hand easier access, and she could feel her nipples start to rise with anticipation, the juices beginning to flow in her vagina. Downward his hand continued to travel ... down inside her bra ... his fingers brushing her swollen nipples, then cupping her left breast and kneading it, exciting her further, until she could hear her breathing as clearly as his.
She dropped her eyes to his lap and saw his roaring erection. She hesitated a moment, then swung her arm back and brushed her elbow over his cock.
Suddenly she felt the car swerve off the road and the front and rear right wheels grind into the sand and dirt of the soft shoulder. Quickly he pulled away from her and grabbed the steering wheel and brought the car back onto the concrete as Erica straightened and moved out of his reach.
"I-I think maybe you'd better tend to your driving," she said as she steadied her breathing and began to button her blouse.
He wagged his head in mute accord as he swung the car over into a faster lane and picked up speed.
CHAPTER FOUR
Since the Williamson farm was located in the vicinity of Yuba City in northern California, it meant a drive of some 160 miles to Fresno. With a stop for dinner at a roadside diner outside of Stockton, it was about eight o'clock that night when they pulled into the motel in Fresno where Larry was a frequent visitor on his travels up and down the Golden State.
As he told Erica before they checked into the motel, "This is a very popular place. It's hard enough to get one room, let alone two. So I hope you won't mind sharing the same room with me for the night?"
Erica shrugged. Why should she mind?
It was obvious that when Larry traveled he went first class, especially since somebody else was footing the bill. The Kingsley Arms Motel, where they put up in Fresno, was far above the average stopover.
To Erica, who'd never seen anything or been any place except the orphanage and the Williamson home, the Kingsley Arms was a veritable fairyland. Even for a seasoned traveler it offered considerable luxury.
The room that Erica and Larry occupied had a huge sliding glass door that opened onto a patio that in turn led to the heated, illuminated swimming pool for night bathing.
The first thing that Erica did when they got into the room was kick off her loafers, throw herself across the bed and discover that it was a vibrating bed. It made her tickle all over. Watching her bounce up and down on the bed had far from a tranquilizing effect on Larry. The cup of her bra had slipped down to free her left tit so that he could see its outline as well as the tight thrust of her nipple through her plaid shirt. Even before he set the two bags he was carrying down on the floor and closed the door, his cock was hard again, adding to the misery of his aching balls.
"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed gleefully. "It's just about the most wonderful place I ever saw. I feel-like-like Alice or somebody in Wonderland!"
Larry walked to the side of the bed and looked down at her for a long moment, studying her jouncing breasts and the way her prominent pubic bone was pushing up against her too tight jeans as she continued to bounce up and down on the bed. It was obvious by his expression and the size of his prick that was straining to be released from his trousers what he wanted to do to her. But, at the same time, he appeared to have something else on his mind.
"Did you see the swimming pool?" he asked finally, shifting his gaze to the big sliding glass door. "Straight ahead, just beyond the patio?"
She rolled over on her tummy, the material of her pants pulling tightly across her buttocks, and looked hard through the big window to the blaze of light where the pool was located.
"Think you'd like to take a swim after that long, hot ride we just had?" he asked.
She rolled over again and sat up on the bed facing him. "I'd love to-only-I don't have anything to wear. And I don't think they'd appreciate me getting out there without anything on."
He smiled and made a final survey of her figure. "Oh, I think you'd be appreciated all right. Only you might cause a riot." He went back to where he'd left his suitcases, picked one of them up and placed it on a straight-backed chair. "Maybe I can find something in here for you to put on."
She watched from the bed while he opened the suitcase, fished beneath a stack of his shirts and shorts and came up with an abbreviated red bikini.
Larry returned to the side of the bed and held it up for her to see. "Let's see how this fits."
Erica looked at the suit, then at him, curiously. "Your wife's?"
He shook his head. "Got no wife."
"Then it belongs to your girl?"
Again he shook his head. "Wrong again."
Her frown deepened. "Then what are you doing carrying around a girl's bikini in your bags?"
He smiled faintly. "Would you believe-a business prop?"
"But I thought you sold tractors?"
"That's right."
"I can't imagine anybody wearing anything like that on a tractor."
He chuckled. "Just about every salesman has a sideline."
"You mean you sell bathing suits, too?"
"No."
"Then what in the name of heavens-?"
"I'll tell you all about it later," he interrupted as he pushed the bikini at her. "First get into this and have your swim. Pool closes at ten."
She got off the bed, took the bikini from him and held it up in front of her. She thought it was awfully skimpy. But it looked as if it might fit.
He stood there, blocking her way to the bathroom, and said, "Let me help you."
Erica was tempted to say, "You're much too kind." But that would be sarcastic and she couldn't afford to be sarcastic to him. After all, as far as she could see, he was her future. So she dropped her arms to her sides, holding the bikini in one hand, and stood submissively as he began to slowly unbutton the front of her shirt.
When the shirt was open Larry brushed it off her shoulders and feasted his eyes on the whiteness of her incredible breasts, one of which was almost entirely uncovered where the strap was broken and the cup had slid down. She expected him to grab and squeeze and dig his fingers into her flesh, the way Aaron and Hank and their father had done. But his hands were soft and sure, his light, delicate touch exciting her as it did in the car. He ran his fingertips upward along the sides of her neck, and behind her ears, then down and over her bare shoulders, sweeping aside the lone strap.
She could feel her belly begin to undulate and her breathing increase sharply as his fingers traced the borderline of her bra. Lower and lower he nudged the bra as he followed the rise and fall of her contours, until her nipples peeked over the top.
He took hold of her shoulders and brought her close to him, his lips finding her lips, forcing them to part and accept his tongue that played inside her mouth until she experienced a hunger for air. Her nostrils flared and she moved her lips on his as if seeking a better and better contact. Her breasts felt huge. An electric urgency in them, a terrible wanting. She'd never been kissed quite like this before ... hungrily, voraciously ... exciting her more!
Erica felt his hands leave her shoulders and go behind her to unsnap her bra. He moved back just enough to allow the bra to slide down between them to the floor. Then he held her at arm's length so he could view her voluptuous breasts. His eyes poured over them and he sighed. They were taut, white and blue-veined, topped with strawberry nipples.
Erica always suffered a little self-consciousness when anyone gazed upon her naked breasts for the first time. She closed her eyes and dropped her head as his fingers glided over her tits, pulling gently at the nipples. Then she felt his hand at her jeans starting to unzip them. Quickly she dropped her own hands to cover his hands and push them away.
"Please," she whispered tightly. "Let me-let me shower first."
He put his two hands under her breasts and lifted first one and then the other to his mouth and kissed them. "You taste sweet and clean enough just as you are."
Erica knew better. So she prevailed upon him to let her go.
Larry held her close, so close that she could feel his hot prick through the material of his trousers against her naked belly. He kissed her, the way a man kisses a woman when he possesses her. Then he let her go, and with the red bikini slung across her naked shoulder she hurried into the John.
The moment Erica got into the bathroom and closed the door she stripped off her clothes. She was glad to finally have the opportunity to take off her panties and wash them out. They reeked of cum that had caked and stiffened like dry paste in the crotch, which was the main reason she didn't want Larry to touch her down there. No girl would.
After she rubbed them clean and hung them over a rack to dry, she took one of the heavy towels and wrapped it around her head so she wouldn't get her hair wet, then she adjusted the spray in the shower and stepped under it. She took the bar of soap from the recess and scrubbed under her arms, over her breasts, between her legs and around her ass until she was a fluff of lather. Then she let the warm needles of water wash her clean, making sure that she got every seed of sperm out of her pores and from the depths of her uterus.
After stepping from the shower and drying herself off. Erica found that the fever in her body had died down. The wanting was still there but it wasn't as imperative as it had been before. So she put on the bikini, then looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. The bottom of the costume was little more than a strip of red nylon cut far below her indented navel and made to follow the line of her groin, barely hiding her pubic hair. The bikini bra, sizes too small in the cup, just about covered her nipples and areolas. She was sure she looked a hell of a lot more suggestive in this bikini than she would have looked stark naked. Maybe Larry wouldn't even want her to go to the pool looking like this, she thought as she unwound the towel and shook out her long, reddish-brown hair that fell in swirls almost down to her slim waist.
Erica had never seen herself in anything quite like this costume before. When she looked at herself in a mirror in the past she had been naked or wearing a shapeless coverall nightgown or flannel robe or some other equally unglamorous attire.
She hoped that Larry would like the way she looked. She hadn't any particular feeling for him one way or the other, except that so far he had been very nice and very considerate of her; but she did want to please him because she was dependent on him.
She took a last look at herself in the mirror, drew in her breath and opened the door. As she entered the adjoining room she saw Larry standing at the sliding glass door, looking out across the patio to the illuminated pool where a few couples were lounging. He turned at once to face her. His mouth dropped open and his eyes literally bugged out of his head at the sight of her.
"Christ!" he gasped.
She searched his face worriedly. "You-you don't like?"
Larry swallowed and took a few steps toward her, his eyes sweeping over her girlishly slim and perfectly proportioned body. Her large breasts only made her that much more alluring, that much more breathtaking.
"Like?" he echoed. "You're-you're even more terrific than I ever dreamed you'd be. I mean, your legs ... your hips ... everything!"
It caused her a little tingle to have people say nice things about her. But his praise tickled her even more because she wanted to please him so much.
He kept moving toward her, his penis rigid. He was still fully dressed. All he'd taken off was his jacket and tie and opened his collar.
He grabbed her shoulders the way he'd done before and pulled her to him, one hand moving to a spot between her shoulderblades, the other hand reaching down to cover her buttocks and bring her still closer to him, bending his cock upward so that it was w-edged between their bellies.
She felt his one hand fumbling with the snaps at the back of her top, the other hand trying to push down her bottom. She pulled back from him and looked at him beseechingly. "Please, Larry-let me have my swim first?"
"Swim?" He shook himself from the momentary trance he was in and looked at her a little disappointedly. "You sure-you want a swim right now?"
She knew only too well what he wanted and said, "I do-and I promise you won't be sorry. Swimming always makes me feel-well-hornier somehow."
He let his eyes travel over her. "Then, by all means-have your swim."
"Thanks." She kissed him, then lingered a moment to ask, "Aren't you coming for a swim, too?"
"Swim?" He considered a moment as he continued to study her figure. Finally he said, "Yeh. Maybe I'd better. If only to protect my interest against the wolves that'll start prowling around out there once they find out about you.
"I'll meet you in the pool," she called out as she turned, hurried to the glass door, slid it open and ran out into the warm night, her long, brown tresses streaming behind her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Larry couldn't have been more right about the wolves. Erica wasn't in the water sixty seconds before word swept through the motel like brush-fire that any guy who wanted his contact lenses to melt only had to visit the pool and see what was splashing around in there. By the time Larry got into a pair of swim trunks and joined her, there were enough wolves in the water to give Little Red Riding Hood a crushing inferiority complex.
Guys of all shapes and sizes and ages were swimming three deep around her, acting up like a lot of performing seals to attract her attention and get a glimpse of her delicious knockers floating out in front of her like a couple of large balloons.
Larry, as he stood at the side of the pool and watched for a few seconds, couldn't help but be impressed at the attention Erica was getting. He found a clearing in the water, dived in and swam out to where she was cavorting with an assembly of very attentive males, who lost no opportunity to brush against her and feel her breasts or her buttocks under the guise of teaching her some new swim strokes.
As he drew near to her, a couple of muscle-beach characters tried ungently to elbow him away. Until Erica saw him and cried out, "Here I am, Larry!"
When he came close enough and she threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his middle and pressed against him intimately, it was as if somebody had suddenly dumped a carload of ice cubes into the pool. Even her most ardent admirers began swimming away and climbing out of the water. However, very few of her audience left the area. Most of them stayed close by the pool to wait and watch for her to get out of the water.
After about ten minutes of swimming back and forth across the length and the width of the pool, Erica and Larry finally emerged from the water. All the faithful who had waited got their reward. The water shrank her red bikini to the size of a cocktail napkin; a good three-quarters of her tits were exposed and only a guy with considerably more than 20-20 vision would be unable to tell the color of her pussy hair.
Of course, Larry didn't let her linger. As he told her before, he wasn't in the mood for a riot with intent to rape. With a protective arm around her shoulders, he rushed her from poolside, across the patio and into their room. He slid the big glass door closed on the gaping eyes that followed their retreat, locked the door and-quickly pulled the drapes, shutting them away for the' night from the outside world.
Thoughtfully, Larry had left several beach towels on a chair near the door. He spread two of them on the floor for them to stand on. Then he gave a towel to Erica and took one for himself.
The first thing that Erica did was to start drying her long, wet hair that she'd been so careful to keep dry in the shower. She rubbed vigorously, and as she raised her arms she unwittingly caused her breasts to lift up out of the bandeau, exposing her puckered, swollen nipples to his view.
He took a step onto the towel on which she was standing, dropped his own towel to the floor and took her in his arms. He kissed her hard, possessively, his tongue tangling with her tongue inside her mouth in sensual erotic play.
As she'd done before, she dropped her arms to' her sides and let the towel dangle from the tips of her fingers. She could feel the heat of his prick against her bare belly, the wetness of his nylon trunks making its size more pronounced. From what she had been able to determine, she didn't think it was as big as Mr. Williamson's. But it was still of considerable size. Not that it particularly mattered. All that did matter was that he was a man-and right now she had need for a man desperately. The water had made her hornier.
She could feel his hands roving her hips, her thighs, her back and her buttocks, pulling her close, his cock digging into her belly. From her buttocks his hands moved upward to unsnap the top of her bikini. The next moment it was off and she was stripped to the waist.
He bent forward and ran his tongue over the surface of her lush breasts; they tasted of chlorine from the pool. He worked his way toward her puckered nipple, caught it in his mouth and began to suck on it like a famished infant.
Erica could feel a terrible weakness in her belly and a gathering ache of pleasure in her loins. Gradually the ache crawled into the walls of her cunt and she found herself rubbing and squeezing her moist thighs together as she tried to ease the maddening sensation that throbbed in her cunt.
She was aware of him working her wet bikini down over her hips and thighs. But she did nothing to stop him. She didn't want him to stop. His mouth at her breasts was nothing she had ever experienced before. While it was true that Aaron and Hank had been able to "send her" on several occasions, it was nothing like the way Larry was making her feel now. His lips were so soft, yet so demanding, and each stroke of his tongue made her whimper, and with her hand at the back of his head she pressed his mouth deeper.
Locking his right leg between her two legs, she began to grind her pelvis against his wet thigh. Erica was hotter than she could ever remember being in her life. She felt if she didn't have an orgasm soon her whole belly would explode.
It was all very hazy after that. She didn't know whether or not he dried her off with the towel or when he shed his trunks or how she got onto the bed. All she was conscious of was lying on her back on the white, silk sheet, cool and soothing against the fever that ravaged her body.
She was aware of him shifting around on the bed until he was lying on his side next to her in an inverted position so that his head rested on her thighs and his cock was close to her face.
He began by kissing and licking over her warm, satiny thighs, gradually coaxing her legs to part. Then he turned her to face him with one of her legs draped over his shoulders so that his face was sandwiched between them. He continued to kiss and lick and suck at the warm flesh at the inside of her thighs, working his mouth slowly toward her glistening pink cunt.
Erica had never been kissed down there before. Aaron and Hank had sucked her nipples and licked over her belly. But they had never ventured to put their mouths on her pussy. The mere thought of someone kissing her cunt made her tremble with a new excitement and brought a fresh flow of juices into her vagina.
She tensed as she felt his breath against her labia ... with the faintest brush of his tongue her cunt lips opened wide with expectancy and her whole body jumped as his tongue plunged into her dripping cunt and licked the length of it back and forth ... until he found her clitoris.
"Oh ... ah...." She began to gasp for greater and greater surges of air and emptied her mind of all conscious thought except the overwhelming sensation he was bringing her as he focused a fierce attack on her clitoris.
Somewhere in the haze of passion that clouded her vision Erica glimpsed his prick swaying back and forth like a metronome before her face. She suddenly wanted it. She suddenly wanted to suck on his cock as he was sucking on her cunt!
She reached out and grasped hold of it down near its base. She got a good grip on it and pulled it toward her where she could see the foreskin covering its head, only a portion of the knob peeking out. But, of course, he was bigger. Much, much bigger. In fact, now that she had a chance to actually see him, she wasn't sure that he wasn't every bit as big as Mr. Williamson. But it didn't matter.
She remembered the pleasant look on Reuben's face as she drew the skin back. She hoped she could make Larry feel just as good as she began to stroke him and slowly move the foreskin back, exposing more and more of the juicy head. Finally, like a red plum, the bulging knob plopped free of the foreskin that peeled back over the thick ridge to lie bunched in folds just below the corona.
She brought it still closer until she could smell the strong mingling scent of chlorine and male juice. But she didn't mind it. In fact, she kept remembering what Mr. Williamson tasted like and wondered if Larry's prick would taste the same-or maybe better?
She saw a pearly drop of liquid ooze from the tiny slit in the tip of his glistening glans. Her tongue shot out and laved the slippery surface of his knob, lapping up the pearly droplet.
She opened her wet, red lips and encircled the large head. He seemed now to actually be bigger than Mr. Williamson, and she thought that her mouth would split as the cock slithered inside, throbbing against her tongue, her cheeks.
All the while, down below, Larry's tongue kept working on her cunt, licking her clitty. It was a race now. A race of unbridled emotions to see who could hold out until he made the other one cum.
She kept swishing her partly wet hair back as it fell over her face and threatened to interfere with her sucking. She wanted nothing to stop her until she made him cum and tasted his hot sperm in her mouth.
As their passion built to a wild crescendo, they thrashed around the bed, squirming, writhing, sucking, licking, moaning and sometimes screaming but never once losing contact. Finally, his mouth and tongue at her cunt and his hands mashing her tits brought her the most delicious orgasm she had ever known: a long series of spasms that left her body weak and drained. But not too weak and drained to keep sucking frantically on his cock ... until she got her wish and felt him spew his hot cum into her mouth and let it trickle down over her chin.
When it was over, at least for the time being, Larry shifted his position again so that he could lie beside her and hold her in his arms with her pretty, brown head nestled against his shoulder and his fingertips lazily fondling her still sensitive breasts. Neither of them spoke for a long time as they just .lay there basking in the beautiful afterglow of what had been a most delightful experience for both of them.
Finally he lifted his head off the pillow so he could look down at her, still taken up with her fabulous body.
"Have you ever heard of the Cock Clubs?" he asked.
She thought a moment, then replied, "No, I don't think so. What are they?"
"They're a chain of key clubs that are in operation all across the country," he explained. "You know what a key club is?"
She shook her head, her long hair completely dry now. The flush of satisfaction in her cheeks made her look even more beautiful. "I guess I'm just stupid."
"No, not stupid," he tempered. "Just uninformed. But that figures, coming from a place like the Williamsons'. They probably think McKinley is still president."
He told her that the word "key" was figurative, that nobody who belonged to the club actually had a key. It simply meant that the club was closed to everyone except members and their guests.
"That sounds like those Playboy Clubs," she interrupted. "I heard about them. Aaron-that's one of Mr. Williamson's sons-he once had a copy of Playboy and it told all about the Playboy Clubs and the bunnies and everything."
"Yes, I suppose in a way you could say that the Cock Clubs are like the Playboy Clubs," Larry considered. "But at the same time they're very different. They have an entirely different kind of membership and the fees are much higher. However, people do go to them to eat and drink and be entertained. But instead of bunnies they call their girls chickies." He had to get in his little gag. "Sort of undressed chickies, you might say. And it isn't all that easy for a girl to become a chickie, either. I mean, she has to have certain very definite qualifications, which I'll explain to you later."
"Why?"
Larry smiled. "Because I'm going to take you to see the top man, who hires all the chickies."
"You-you mean, you think I can become a chickie?"
"It's possible."
If Erica had been standing up she might have gone back on her heels with surprise. "Me? But-I don't know the first thing about being a-a chickie."
"Neither did any of the other girls. They had to learn. Same as you will, if you're hired."
"But-but maybe I don't have the necessary qualifications?"
He bent forward and kissed her breasts, making the nipples stand erect. "Let's put it this way, darling. Besides selling tractors I act as a scout for the Cock Clubs. You could say I'm sort of a Prince Charming who goes looking for Cinderellas. Only instead of a glass slipper I carry around a red bikini. And when I find a girl who looks like she might fit the bikini, somehow I get her to try it on. And when it fits-well, she's invited to meet the top man. That bikini has the measurements-give or take a couple of inches-that are required for a Cock Club chickie. So, darling, like I said-don't worry your pretty head about whether or not you have the qualifications. You just take my word for it-that you more than filled that bikini!"
And that ended the conversation.
Maybe it was talking about her qualifications and how she fit into the bikini, or maybe it was kissing her tits that did it. But whatever the reason, he was raring to go again, and as he lifted himself over her and let her glimpse his cock she spread her legs apart to show him that she was ready, too.
As he fitted his big, pulsing cock into her succulent cunt, she put her hands behind her head and stretched luxuriously. But as much as she may have enjoyed what he was doing to her, it was awfully hard for her to give it her complete concentration. Maybe he should have waited until later to tell her about becoming a chickie. After all, how many girls get an opportunity to become a chickie in their entire life?
CHAPTER SIX
It would seem that a guy who banged a girl all night long-even a girl as desirable as Erica-would have had his fill of her-at least for awhile. But not Larry Link. When they awoke next morning, shortly after ten o'clock, Larry followed Erica into the bathroom and squeezed into the stall shower with her. Pressing her back against the wet tile wall, he eased his tireless penis into her overworked cunt and fucked away at her again.
Surprisingly, Erica didn't mind it at all. It was kind of fun being fucked standing up, with the warm spray of the shower pelting down on their naked bodies. It also gave her a nice feeling to know that she could arouse a man so easily, make him want her that much. She just stood there with her eyes closed and her legs spread wide apart and felt his cum splatter against the walls of her cunt, run down between her parted thighs and gurgle down the drain with the suds that washed off their bodies.
Later, at breakfast, Larry looked at her sitting beside him on the front seat of his sports car and said, "You can't very well meet the top man of the Cock Clubs dressed like that. He'd farm you out to the Strip hippies. So while we're here we may as well get you some new clothes."
New clothes! Erica was so excited with the thought that she clapped her hands together like a little kid.
Larry took Erica to one of Fresno's big department stores, one of a chain that catered principally to young men and women and had locations throughout California. When Larry walked Erica into the store's Junior Miss department and the salespeople got a load of her wrinkled plaid shirt and faded jeans, there was considerable nose-raising and sniffing, until he asked for the manager. Her name was Miss Dowdy, and she knew Larry from a long-standing preferred-charge customer.
Miss Dowdy was fortyish, tall and willowy. She had high cheekbones, a sallow complexion and black hair that she wore pulled back into a tight "bun" over her left ear. Larry told the woman exactly what he wanted for Erica-a complete outfit, head to toe: something smart and sexy that would show off her physical attributes to full advantage. Then, while she and Erica went through the racks, Larry left them to do some shopping on his own.
Certainly Miss Dowdy's name didn't fit her at all. She was neat as the proverbial pin in a straight, black dress that buttoned down the front, black nylons, highly-polished black flats and every shiny, black hair atop her head lacquered in place.
It took a few minutes before Erica warmed to the woman's cold exterior, but she was so courteous, patient and helpful that Erica couldn't help liking her. The only thing that disturbed Erica was that the woman kept referring to the size of her breasts, saying how big they were for a girl with such a small rib cage and slim waist. Erica also wondered if it was necessary for Miss Dowdy to keep putting an arm around her waist all the time. After a while she began to feel vaguely uncomfortable.
Finally, after they had selected half a dozen dresses, several pair of brief, sexy, nylon panties, a couple pair of super sheer opera-length hose, a black, silk garter belt, a half-shell lace bra and a pair of black spike heels, Miss Dowdy ushered Erica into one of the soundproof dressing rooms of the Junior Miss department.
Erica had never been in a place quite like this in her whole life. All the clothes she'd ever worn were hand-me-downs from the orphanage. And while she worked for the Williamsons they'd never bought her one new thing to wear. All they gave her was the plaid shirt and the jeans she was wearing which Reuben had outgrown. What Larry had told her about Prince Charming and Cinderella was all coming true. Miss Dowdy was acting almost like her fairy godmother as she laid out the sparkling, new things for Erica to try on.
Only one thing bothered Erica. She wondered if it were necessary for Miss Dowdy to lock the door to the dressing room after they were inside or for the woman to stay with her while she changed. But Miss Dowdy explained both things away very easily.
"First of all, darling," she said, "we don't want anyone just barging in on us with you half dressed. Also-some of the things you'll find very tricky to put on. You'll need help getting into them." Then she stepped up to Erica, took a handful of the girl's long, brown hair and let it filter through her fingers like so much fine silk. "You have beautiful hair, darling. In fact, you're quite a lovely young lady. Is-er-is Mr. Link your intended?"
Erica giggled. "Good heavens-no."
"Your husband perhaps?"
"Oh, no. Just a very good friend," Erica said.
"Oh-I see," Miss Dowdy said with a slightly arched eyebrow. "It's very convenient to have such good friends."
Erica didn't give Miss Dowdy's innuendo a second thought. In fact, she agreed, and when the woman started to help her unbutton her shirt she had to admit that she certainly was very helpful-maybe a little too helpful.
However, she put aside her doubts, and when the shirt was unbuttoned Erica took it off and threw it over a chair. Before leaving the motel, she had fixed the broken strap on her bra with the courtesy mending kit provided for the guests.
With her shirt off, Erica started to unbutton the fly of her jeans.
Suddenly Miss Dowdy was at Erica's side. "Need help, darling?" Before Erica could answer, the store manager's fingers found the zipper and pulled it down. Then she unfastened the brass button at the waistband and edged the jeans over the widest part of Erica's hips.
As the jeans slid down Erica's shapely legs, Miss Dowdy stared at the girl's white cotton panties. She declared, "I haven't seen underdrawers like those in years! They belong in the Smithsonian Institute. No wonder Mr. Link insisted on you getting new underwear."
Erica blushed a little. She had no idea they were that bad. Then and there, she was determined that even if she had to go without panties she'd never put them on again. She took a step away from the older woman and reached up behind to unhook her bra. The straps were tight.
Miss Dowdy offered a helping hand.
"I think I can manage, thanks," Erica said, and did. She let out her breath in a sigh. Sometimes she wondered if bras weren't invented by a man, somebody who never had to wear one. In fact, she'd read somewhere just recently that 5000 women held a "Ban the Bra" rally in San Francisco's financial district, and she certainly hoped it would catch on and that she'd never have to wear one again.
As she let the pink bra slip down her arms to the chair in front of her, she saw Miss Dowdy staring wide-eyed at her breasts. Round, full and creamy.
"Umm-aren't you something!" the manager exclaimed. You should be mighty proud of those!"
"Sometimes they get me in trouble."
"I can just imagine, darling." Miss Dowdy picked up the bra from the chair, looked at the size and then at the way the cups and straps had cut into Erica's flesh. "I never would have believed it. I thought a 38 would fit you easily. But I'm afraid you're going to need the 40-D cup. Then, as she tossed the bra back onto the chair, she regarded Erica's drab, cotton panties with the same repugnance she might show a crawling insect and exclaimed, "Please-get those horrid things off and we'll dispose of them!"
Erica certainly wasn't modest, but there was something about the way that Miss Dowdy stared at her that bothered her. Still, she did as the woman said. She stepped out of her white panties, leaned forward and placed them on her pile of clothes on the chair, her breasts dangling like pendulums.
As she straightened she saw Miss Dowdy's eyes, as hot and hungry as Mr. Williamson's eyes were yesterday afternoon in the barn, sweeping over her nude body, settling on the hair between her thighs. She felt a strange fear sweep over her as she watched the woman unbutton the front of her black dress and let it slide to the floor. What amazed her even more was that, except for a lacy, black garter belt that held up her black hose, Miss Dowdy hadn't a thing on under her dress. No bra, no panties. Nothing. Not that she really needed any of them. She was as devoid of curves as a broom handle. Except for her concave breasts, her oversized nipples, the mop of coarse, black hair that covered her prominent veneris and, of course, the absence of a cock, she might easily have passed for a tall boy.
Erica could hear the way the woman was breathing and the expression on Miss Dowdy's face was unmistakable. Erica could feel her own pulse beat hammering and her stomach began to feel queasy as the woman started to move toward her.
"Please, darling," Miss Dowdy murmured almost pathetically. "I'm not going to hurt you. Honestly. I-I just want to hold your lovely, young body in my arms. I want to feel your soft, warm flesh against mine."
Mild panic gripped Erica as she started to back away from the woman. "Stop ... stop right where you are ... if-if you lay one finger on me-I'll-I'll scream!"
"Please don't, darling," Miss Dowdy pleaded softly. "You don't understand. You couldn't understand.
You're young ... you're beautiful. With your lovely body you can have men-probably all you want. But not me. I know what I look like. I'm skinny and ugly. I have no shape. No man would want me. That's why, darling, I have to take love where I find it."
She took a couple of quick steps and caught Erica in her arms. She was so emotionally upset that she was almost in tears. Miss Dowdy held Erica close to her, squashing the girl's breasts against her own, moving around until they were nipple-to-nipple. Then she found Erica's lips and kissed her.
Erica had never known the kiss of a woman before, and while it admittedly stirred her it caused a kind of disgust. She would have struggled and broken away from the woman. She might even have screamed. But Miss Dowdy's whole body was quivering, actually shaking, with the emotions that racked her body as she began to sob and moan, so that Erica could only feel a terrible compassion for her and stay there in her arms.
Miss Dowdy wasn't the first member of her own sex who had tried to make love to Erica. Back at the orphanage, the girls often wanted to get into bed with her or hug against her in the shower. Several times when she went to town to shop for the Williamsons she'd had women approach her. They never actually propositioned her. But a girl can tell when another woman is enamored of her and is leading up to sex. About the only person, male or female, whom she could remember never having made a pass at her was Mrs. Williamson, the boys' mother. Probably the reason for that was that she was in menopause and had all she could do to ward off the old man.
While Erica often wondered what it was like to have a woman actually have sex with her, she had never allowed it to happen.
Even though she made no sound and no longer tried to fight, she was scared to death as the woman's hot hands pawed her. If she screamed she knew it would cause both of them no end of embarrassment. Whether or not it would cost the woman her job, Erica didn't know. She just kept worrying that if she did cause a disturbance Larry might get angry and change his mind about buying her all those beautiful new clothes. And she wanted those new clothes more than anything she'd ever wanted before in her life. But at the same time she wanted Miss Dowdy to stop.
"Let me go," Erica kept telling the woman. "Please. I don't want to cause you any trouble. So please just let me go."
The woman continued to repeat the same thing over and over, like a broken record. "I will, darling. I will. Just let me hold you. Just for a few seconds longer ... please ... please...."
Erica could feel the older woman's protuberant cunt against her own, rubbing. She was surprised how stimulating an experience it was. Not that it could even begin to make her feel the way a man could. But it did have its effectiveness, and for a woman like Miss Dowdy, who couldn't make it with a man, it was easy to see that it could be very satisfying.
As the woman kept grinding, her eyes wild now, her face and her body dripping perspiration and her nipples standing out like twin spikes, she forced Erica down onto the chaise lounge at one side of the dressing room and positioned her so that she could reach the girl with her abnormally long clitoris. It was almost the size of a small boy's penis, and she kept rubbing it back and forth through Erica's pubic hair and over the wet lips of her cunt, panting heavily. Finally, she grabbed Erica's hips with hands that were strong as a man's hands and held the girl against her, cunt to cunt. She throbbed out an orgasm that for sheer violence was as intense as any male's.
It took Miss Dowdy several minutes after she let Erica go to regain her composure. Then she reached for some facial tissue and patted Erica dry, then wiped herself off. She then picked up her black dress, put it on, buttoned it and went about waiting on Erica as if nothing had happened.
It wasn't all that easy for Erica. Her first experience with a lesbian left her understandably shaken. Perhaps if it hadn't been her first time with a woman or if she had been more worldly-wise and a lot less compassionate, she never would have permitted it to happen. But the woman had been so pathetic in her pleadings, so genuinely sincere with her tears and her sobbing, that Erica couldn't help what she did.
As she put on the sexy panties, the nylon stockings, the black silk garter belt, the bra and the spike heels that Miss Dowdy helped her with, then tried on each of the dresses they'd selected, Erica couldn't help but wonder whether this was to be her lot in the strange, new world that Larry Link was going to introduce her to. Was every man and woman she met going to try to make her?
If so, her feelings were mingled. Men she didn't mind. Even with Mr. Williamson she had found a certain amount of pleasure and satisfaction. But women were something else again. This one time with Miss Dowdy had been tolerable. But that was the most she could say for it. She was dead sure she could never take women as a steady diet. She could not become a lesbian.
By the time Larry came back with the things he'd bought for himself, Erica was dressed and ready to model several of the dresses for him. He was very pleased with her selection and told her she could keep the two sexiest dresses, along with the accessories that Miss Dowdy had helped her pick out. Then Larry thanked the manager for her help and good taste.
Miss Dowdy looked at Erica with a faint, knowing smile and assured him, "The pleasure was all mine, sir."
When Erica walked out of the store, hugging against Larry's arm, every salesperson they passed bowed and scraped obsequiously and every eye in the place followed the twinkle of Erica's shapely legs encased in black nylons and the wiggle of her ungirdled ass under her summer dress.
When they crossed the parking lot and climbed into his car, Erica let go of her emotions. With both arms around his neck, she kissed him like she had never kissed anyone before in her life.
"It's so wonderful!" she shouted in her unbridled joy. "It's the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me in my whole life. All these clothes. These wonderful new clothes! Oh, Larry-what can I say? What can I do? How can I ever begin to thank you?"
By the way he looked at her after he had a chance to catch his breath, it was clear that he had a few ideas himself as to how she could thank him. Especially when he told her, "I think maybe I'll wait until tomorrow to take you to see Jack Ultra."
"Jack Ultra?" she echoed.
"The guy who owns the Cock Clubs," he explained.
She knew that meant they'd be spending another night alone together. "Oh-I'd like that, Larry! I'd like that very much!"
Then she reached over and put a hand on his hardening cock and squeezed it lovingly.
"Not that I don't like it, darling," he sighed as he gently lifted her hand off his prick. "But I seem to remember you telling me yesterday I'd better tend to my driving."
She smiled and made no answer. Minutes later they were hitting the maximum along Highway 90, heading south along the "grapevine" that promised to lead Erica into an exciting, new life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
If it hadn't been for a network of scar tissues above and below his translucent blue eyes and a nose that was considerably off center-mementos from his younger days when he tried to hammer out a career and a fortune with his fists as a young heavyweight-Jack Ultra might have made it big in the movies. Or maybe in television commercials back in the days when rugged men rode the range, lighting popular cigarettes.
He had the jaw, the head and the heft of a John Wayne or a Burt Lancaster. His neatly trimmed blond hair, his $300 suits and his scrubbed-white teeth did nothing to detract from his striking appearance. But Ultra had directed his ambitions into other channels. While he may have chosen Hollywood for his base of operations and had known everybody worth knowing in the movie business from Mayer and Goldwyn to Zanuck, he had no itch to be an actor. He wanted to be in the driver's seat the way these top men were, so he scraped together what cash he had and borrowed the rest and opened the first of his Cock Clubs.
It wasn't too long before the first club caught on and he started getting requests to open clubs in other cities. Now he had a chain of fifteen clubs spread across the country, with more to come.
These clubs not only fattened his bank account but gave full sway to his other craving-sex. Jack Ultra wasn't only a flesh peddler, he was a satyr with a cock that had a constant itch.
Right now, Ultra was sitting behind his black onyx desk in his plush private office on one of the upper floors of the tall Hollywood building that housed the flagship of his fleet of Cock Clubs. With a long, black, contraband Havana cigar stuck in one corner of his sensuous mouth, he was looking at Larry Link, who sat across the desk from him, listening to Larry tell all about the "new gir!" who was sitting right outside the door, in the outer office, waiting to see him.
Ultra waited until Larry was finished. "Link, what the fuck is the matter with you?" he boomed.
"Matter?" Larry echoed quizzically.
"Yeh, if you'd call in once in a while, while you're beatin' your ass around the country, you'd be able to keep track of the goddam score."
"I didn't find this girl until two days ago," Larry explained.
"I don't give a damn when you found her," Ultra retorted. "I don't need any more girls."
"But this one's different, Jack," Larry tried to make him understand.
"Different? What the hell can be different?" Ultra grunted. "She got three tits? Two cunts?"
"No. But what she does have is worth looking at," was Larry's argument.
Ultra sighed wearily. "Look, Link, three weeks ago we put out a cattle call for broads that wanted to be chickies. Y'know how many cunts showed up? More than 2,000. We hadda call out the goddam fuzz to keep em in line. And outta that mob you know how many girls we got? A list as long as King Kong's prick. We got a backlog of quail long enough to fill any vacancies that might show in any of the clubs for the next nine years."
"But if you'd just look at this girl," Larry kept insisting.
"What in hell do I wanna see another girl for?" Ultra spit out as he crushed the lighted end of his cigar in an ashtray that was the replica of a girl's upturned ass. "My cock has been in so many fuckin' cunts these past three weeks it's ready for a bandaid. I couldn't get a hardon if Venus de Milo wiggled her snatch right in my face."
"All I'm askin' is that you see this girl. She's sitting right outside the door," Larry kept arguing.
"Are you deaf, you dumb son-of-a-bitch!" Ultra fired back at him angrily. "I don't want to .see no more broads! Get that through your goddam thick skull and lemme alone-or I'll kick your ass out the door and see your name's wiped off the books. You want that to happen?"
Larry could see how dangerously close he was to losing his fat expense account, plus all the rich, green gravy that was paid in the form of a commission to "scouts" like himself. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped sweat from the palms of his hands.
"If-if that's how you want it, Jack," he said meekly.
"That's how I want it!" the owner of the Cock Clubs snapped. "When I want any more cunt brought in I'll tell you. Now butt outta here! I'm busy."
Larry didn't say any more. He just turned on his heels and walked to the door. He was a little surprised to see that he had left the door slightly ajar when he had entered Ultra's private sanctorum. The moment he stepped into the reception room and saw the tearful look of crushed disappointment in Erica's eyes, sitting on the long, padded bench near the door, he knew that she'd heard every word that the club owner said to him.
Larry didn't stop to offer any excuses. He just took Erica's arm, helped her to her feet and walked her to the frosted front door on which was printed the legend, "ULTRA ENTERPRISES, INC."
He tossed a "thanks" and "goodbye" to the pretty girl seated at the front desk-a reject who'd turned into a very efficient receptionist.
When he and Erica got into the corridor Larry hurried her aboard a waiting elevator. The car was crowded so they rode down to the main floor in silence.
"Ultras a stupid, fuckin' son-of-a-bitch," Larry kept mumbling to himself angrily. Every guy they passed craned for a second and even a third look at Erica-and no wonder!
Her tight, red dress outlined the jutting contours of her big breasts, and if she hadn't been wearing the hip-length hose the short skirt would have shown several inches of delightfully bare thighs.
When they finally got outside on the sidewalk Larry said, "I'm not what you could call a drinking man. But right now I could stand a good belt. So could you."
He linked his arm with hers, and with her loosely contained knockers bouncing, against his bicep he steered her into the first bar they came to. They sat in a dimly lighted booth in the rear of the place and he ordered a bourbon for himself, a more palatable "pink lady" for her.
Aside from the homemade red wine that Williamson made back at the farm, she'd never really drunk alcohol.
It took no more than a couple of potent "pink ladies" to put her in a very mellow mood. But at the same time she was worried. Since Larry hadn't even been able to get her in to see Jack Ultra, let alone land her a job as a chickie, Erica was well aware that Larry could no longer put her down as an item on his swindle sheet. If he kept her around it would be at his own expense. Now, more than ever, Erica had to be nice to Larry. But the only way she knew to be nice was to make him feel good, do things that she was sure he'd want her to do.
As she sat beside Larry in the narrow booth, she slipped a hand under the table and placed it on his right leg, running the tips of her fingers lightly up and down his thigh. As she felt his cock gradually begin to harden, she covered it with her palm and began rubbing her hand over his balls that hung down between his thighs.
She watched his eyes. She liked to watch a man's eyes while she fondled him. She could always tell by the way they began to squint how she was making him feel.
He turned and looked at her, his breathing deepening.
She smiled faintly and squeezed the base gently as he closed his eyes. Then she fingered her way up his hard flesh. She squeezed again and her eyes never left his face for an instant.
She leaned in to him so that he could kiss her, his hand grasping and squeezing one of her lightly covered tits. She reciprocated with a final squeeze of his cock. Then she took her hand away and, with the same motion, brushed her long hair back over her shoulder and fought to regain her composure.
"Time for another drink," he suggested and buzzed for the waitress who wore a costume with a neckline that showed a lot of cleavage and a skirt that showed her silky ass.
After the drinks were served Larry resumed chewing on the rebuke that Jack Ultra had handed him. "The ungrateful bastard. You know how many girls I've discovered? Twenty-five in the past three years. That's a better batting average than the full-time talent scouts he's got working for him. Shit, it wouldn't have hurt him just to look at you. That's all he'd need. One lousy look at you and you'd be on his payroll and I'd be collecting my ten percent commission. I know his taste as well as he does. You're made to order for the bastard. Exactly his type. You couldn't miss with him."
"Maybe I can find a job someplace else, darling, she cooed.
"Bullshit!" Larry exploded as he picked up his glass and drank half its contents. "Nobody in the whole goddam city pays like he does." He took another drink and set the glass down hard on the coaster. "You're gonna work for him. I'm gonna see that you work for him. Son-of-a-bitch!"
"But if he won't even see me-?"
"He'll see you! Goddamit, I'll find a way to make him see you." He swilled down what remained in his glass, then he said to Erica, "Drink up, baby. And let's get back to the hotel. We got a lot of things to take care of before the afternoon's over."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Booze might make some men impotent. But it didn't affect Larry that way at all. If anything, it made him just that much hornier and it did the same thing for Erica.
As soon as they got back to their hotel room in Beverly Hills, not too far from the building that housed Jack Ultra's Cock Club, Larry threw himself across the bed and Erica undressed him. She didn't know whether the hardon he had now was the same one she'd brought him in the booth at the bar they'd just left or whether this was a new one. It made no difference.
With her dress off and her tits hanging out, swinging loose, she licked and nibbled his testicles. Then she stripped the foreskin from the huge, glistening head of his prick and held him that way while she sucked him to a shattering orgasm, eagerly devouring every last drop of the sticky, white sperm that shot from his cock.
Fired by the bourbon and the blowjob, Larry munched on Erica's monumental tits. Although they may have been his primary source of interest, he didn't restrict his attention to them.
If Larry had a fetish, it was for legs clad in sheer, black nylons, and his hands had a field day wandering over Erica's silken contours. He cupped her moist nylon panties and wormed a finger under the edge into her steaming slit. As she began to wiggle on his finger he leaned in to her and, with his face between her broiling thighs, licked back and forth over the damp crotch of her panties, savoring her cunt juices that seeped through the silky material and wet his lips and tongue.
He worked off her panties and found her cunt, satiny wet, the scarlet lips open so that he could see into it. He told her that he still believed hers was the most beautiful pussy he had ever seen and that he was glad that she hadn't gotten around to using flavored feminine deodorants. He said he was glad that her vagina still smelled and tasted naturally sweet, the way a woman's vagina should.
As if to repay her for sucking him off, he kissed his way into the heart of her pussy, where he licked and sucked her soft cunt. Erica allowed herself the luxury of two orgasms before she brought his head up so she could kiss his lips, wet with the juices of her cunt, while he made his entry into her box, and they fucked to a simultaneous orgasm.
Then they fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs with his limp cock dangling at the entrance to her cunt. When they finally awakened they discovered they had slept away all of the afternoon and part of the night. It was time to move.
They were both famished and nursing a slight hangover, so Larry picked up the phone and had room service bring them dinner, a bottle of bourbon for him and a couple of "pink ladies" for her. Larry still believed in the age-old remedy of "sobering up on what you got fried on." After dinner was over and they started boozing again, they were as high as when they first came back to the room after seeing Jack Ultra.
Whether it was the sleep he had or the bourbon he drank or whether it was just his dogged persistence, after dinner was over and the waiter had taken away their dirty dishes, Larry told Erica, "You're going to see Jack Ultra-and he's going to see you!"
"How?" she asked.
"I'll show you how," he replied. "Get that black silk nightie I bought for you in the lobby shop last night."
Erica went to the dresser, opened the drawer and took out the nightie. It was a whisper of transparent silk. Erica hadn't really worn it yet. She merely modeled it for a few seconds for Larry last night. But he got so damned hot just seeing her in it that the gown went back into the drawer before it was smeared with their sex juices.
"Now-roll it up and put it in your handbag," he told her.
She did as he instructed. "And now?"
"Take a shower."
"And then?"
"We're going visiting."
"To see whom?"
"Ultra."
She frowned. "But I thought that he said-"
"Look," Larry interrupted as he took her arm and steered her toward the John, "just do what I tell you.
Take a shower and leave the details to me."
She eyed him a moment dubiously, then she shrugged resignedly and went into the bathroom. She put on the shower cap that he'd bought her so her hair wouldn't get wet and took a warm shower. She hoped it would clear her head. But she felt even woozier after she turned off the water and dried herself off. She took off the shower cap, shook out her long hair and came into the next room where Larry was waiting for her.
Erica never had been overly modest about showing off her body because she was very proud about the way she was built. But she never dreamed she'd be able to walk around and be looked at by a man the way Larry looked at her without embarrassment, self-consciousness or shame.
"All showered, darling," she informed him as she turned slightly so that he could view her naked profile, her chin resting against her shoulder provocatively.
"That perfume we bought last night when we got the nightie?" he asked. He was dressed and ready to go except for his jacket.
She took the bottle of French perfume from the top drawer of the dresser and gave it to him. He pulled out the stopper and sprinkled a few drops on his fingers. It was an erotic perfume that wasn't available in any dime store.
He began rubbing the perfume over her shoulder and back, then down across her breasts with the tips of his fingers. Her nipples began to rise and she began to rub her thighs together like a cricket as his fingers moved down over her belly, bringing the same burning ache into her loins he always did.
He continued to apply the heady perfume to her thighs and buttocks, then down along her legs and even her dainty feet. Soon she couldn't take any more. With hands that were fierce and demanding she brought his face to her breasts, his lips to her nipples.
She was breathing heavily, panting. "Oh, Larry-you've made me want you again...."
He put his arms around her and held her close to him, and she could feel that he was big and hard again.
"Oh-take it out, darling-take it out and I'll get on the bed," she whispered through teeth clenched in passion.
He kissed her and whispered against her mouth, "I want you, too, but we'll have to wait." He kissed her once more, then held her at arm's length and said, "Get dressed now, baby, so we can go see our friend."
She turned and went to the dresser again and got a new pair of nylons from the drawer. They were the same sheer, black ones she was wearing before. She sat on the edge of the bed to put them on. She wasn't the least bit careful about keeping her thighs together as she fitted the nylons to her legs. Larry could see her cunt lips stretching and twisting into odd shapes.
She could see he was drunk and getting progressively more inebriated with each swig he took from the bottle. She wondered if he hadn't been drunk whether he'd have insisted on taking her to see Ultra again or stayed here and fucked her?
When her stockings were on, she stood up, put on her narrow, black silk garter belt and fastened them to it. She donned a pair of fresh panties, but Larry told her to leave off her bra again and put on the tight, red dress that she'd worn before. Then she toed into her heels and he checked her out. Satisfied that all was in order, he grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, put it on and took her arm.
"Okay, Erica baby," he said as he kissed her cheek, opened the door and led her into the hall. "Let's go and give that bastard Ultra a real eyeful. Shit on me, will he? Let's make his fuckin' nuts ache so bad he can taste
'em!"
CHAPTER NINE
Jack Ultra's sprawling penthouse atop the fifteen-story Hollywood building where his offices and club were located was befitting of royalty. Consisting of sixteen rooms and more than ten baths, it lacked absolutely nothing in the way of modern conveniences-from a huge, indirectly lighted swimming pool in the spacious playroom to bedrooms with mirrored walls and ceilings. According to Ultra, "They gave a guy a chance to see what he was getting into." On the beds were silk sheets, each corresponding to the decor of the room, colors ranging from delicate pastels to deep blacks. Throughout the entire apartment, the floors were covered with deep carpeting; the walls were murals depicting a study of sex through the ages. Encircling the penthouse apartment was a terrace from which could be seen the panorama of the city, the mountains to the north, the ocean to the west.
It was to these fantastic quarters that Larry brought Erica while Ultra was downstairs, holding sway in the Cock Club. Getting into Ultra's penthouse posed no particular problem for Larry. The man who took them up to the apartment in Ultra's own private elevator was an old hand who knew Larry. In the past Larry had delivered other girls to the penthouse for the club owner-girls whom Ultra wanted to "interview" in private away from his office and from the mob in the club. No questions were asked of Larry. The guy running the elevator merely paid homage to Erica's gorgeous legs and breasts as she and Larry stepped out of the car. Larry took a moment to slip the guy a fin and whisper confidentially, "Don't tell the boss we're here-I want it to be a surprise."
The elevator operator took one more look at Erica's fabulous body, grinned appreciatively and closed the door.
Erica stood there a moment and watched the indicator above the door show that the car was going down. Then she shivered a-little as she looked at Larry and asked, "Don't-don't you think maybe it might be a better idea if we let Mr. Ultra see me downstairs in the club?"
Larry shook his head. He was still giddy from all the liquor he'd consumed. "He wouldn't be able to fully appreciate you down there. First of all, it's so damn dark in the club he wouldn't even get a decent look at you. Second, you'd have all those chickies as competition. Not that you wouldn't outshine the lot of 'em if you had on as little. Third, half the movie starlets in Hollywood are sitting at tables down there, and not only are they lookers, they're cash customers. And believe me, when cash customers are on hand, Ultra doesn't have eyes for anybody else. Especially if the cash customers are broads. So you do like Larry says. You stay right here and wait until he closes up shop."
He took her for a brief tour of the penthouse; it made her feel like she'd stepped through the looking glass into Alice's Wonderland. They ended their tour through the apartment in the master bedroom. This was a room with a black and white decor and a super king-sized bed. Larry told her, "Let's get that dress off." She hesitated a moment, frowning. "C'mon, c'mon-get it off," he insisted as he turned her around and pulled the zipper of the dress down to the crevice of her buttocks. "It's late. The club'll be closing soon and he'll be coming up here!"
She let the dress slide down her arms and then down over her hips and legs. Larry picked it up and draped it over the back of a chair. "Now the panties," he said.
Again she faltered, then peeled them off and placed them on the chair with her dress. Maybe it was being in a strange place where she had no right to be, but she felt terribly naked. "Okay, now put on the nightie," he ordered. She fished it out of her handbag and put it on. He stepped back from her so he could have a good look at her, his cock fluttering to life inside his trousers. In the stunning black gown, fashioned of the sheerest silk and generously draped to highlight her fabulous breasts, she shone like a star. With her sexy black nylons and her spike heels she was the ultimate in sexuality, irresistible.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Larry exclaimed, which seemed to be his favorite name for Jack Ultra. "If you don't make him blow his goddam cookies, he's in need of a shot of hormones." His cock was full size now. "If there was time and this operation wasn't so goddam important to both of us I'd lay you myself, right here and now."
When he talked that way and looked at her like that he made her tits feel larger, made her pussy tingle for him. But, at the same time, the apprehension that she felt made her wonder if she could have enjoyed it in these strange surroundings.
However, she had no cause for concern. He had no intention of touching her. Instead he said, "Now get in bed and when you hear him coming throw off the covers. I want that first flash to knock him right on his ass."
He helped her into bed, and as she lay there he kissed her and ran a hand over her breasts. Then he straightened away from her and started toward the door.
Erica sat up quickly and called out to him, "Where are you going?"
Larry turned to look at her across the room. "Back to the hotel. You don't need me around. You can handle everything perfectly all on your own."
"No!" she cried out frantically.
He came back to quiet her. "Look-you want a job, don't you? You want to be a chickie in his club, right?"
"Yes-but-"
"There are no buts," Larry interrupted. "You do the job right and you're in. Believe me, baby. I know what I'm talking about. You please him and you have it made. No more orphanages. No more sweating your pretty ass off for creeps like the Williamsons. No more wanting pretty things. You'll be able to write your own ticket." He kissed her pouting lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Erica honey. This is your opportunity. You do like I say-show him a time-do what he wants-and you're on your way." He looked at her anxiously. "Okay?"
Erica met his gaze for a long moment as her mind swept back over her short life. Until Larry had picked her up back there on that dirt road her life had been pretty gruesome: not having even a pretty dress or a pair of silk panties or nylons that weren't full of runs. Catering to the unimaginative sexual wants of Hank and Aaron whenever they desired her. Satisfying Jack Ultra's needs couldn't be any worse than that-and if what Larry said was true, the job would be well worth it.
"Okay, Larry," she murmured finally. "Will do."
Another kiss on her lips, then Larry was gone, leaving her alone in the big bedroom.
It seemed she lay there for an eternity, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes gradually becoming accustomed to the darkness. But it probably was no more than half-an-hour before she heard a door close.
Erica made sure that the covers were thrown back and that her nightie and her hair were just right. Then she moistened her lips with her tongue and lay there motionlessly, her eyes closed, her heart hammering and her insides knotted in a ball.
The lights came on.
She kept her eyes closed until she heard a startled gasp. She snapped both lids open and followed the sound to the doorway. She caught her breath. The man standing there staring back at her was nothing like she had expected him to be. She thought Jack Ultra would be much older, jowly, maybe bald. This man couldn't be any older than Larry, but much huskier and almost handsome. He made her heart stop for a moment.
But as surprised as she may have been, it was mild compared to the look of amazement on Ultra's face as his eyes swept her near naked body. He swallowed and took a couple of steps toward the bed, staring as if he couldn't quite make himself believe that she was really lying there, that she wasn't merely a figment of his imagination.
"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded.
"Erica Hunt," she replied in a thin voice.
He moved closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving her for an instant. "And where the hell did you come from? How did you get into my apartment? Into my bed?"
"Larry brought me here," she told him.
"Larry Link?"
She nodded. "I'm the girl you wouldn't see at your office."
He moistened his dry lips with his tongue and sat on the edge of the bed alongside her. "Why didn't the bastard tell me you looked like this?"
She was about to remind him that Larry tried to tel him that but changed her mind as she felt his hanc touch her shoulder and move down her right breast. Her certainly didn't waste any time, she thought. But then maybe he felt that finding her like this in his bed gave him the right.
He completed the sweep of his hand over both her breasts and then down over her cunt and thighs. Then he said, "Sit up."
She did as he told her.
He studied her breasts a few seconds, then cupped one in each hand and lifted them. "No sag. I never saw a broad with tits as big as yours with no sag. Let's see what they look like with the crap off em." He brushed the straps from her shoulder and peeled the nightie down to her waist. "Terrific."
Ultra didn't give her a chance to blush, feel embarrassed or suffer even the slightest qualm. He just grabbed her tits again, one in each hand, and brought them to his mouth. He began squeezing and sucking one, then the other, as if he were milking a cow.
She made no attempt to stop him or move away from him. This, after all, was what she was there for-to please him-and that was what she intended to do. But what alarmed her was that here was another perfect stranger and he was arousing her just as easily as Larry had done. What was the matter with her? Was she oversexed? A nympho maybe? Could just any man make her feel that way?
When Ultra had satisfied himself with his sucking he said, "You taste real good. When you start giving milk I want a regular delivery."
Then he got off the bed and began to remove his clothing. He undressed slowly and deliberately, standing so that she could have an unobstructed view of him. Erica sat there, stripped from the waist up, her nipples red and erect from the licking. She stared at his strong and blocky torso, his hairy arms, chest and belly; the length of his cock both frightened and fascinated her.
His was not as long as Larry's or Mr. Williamson's; it was as fat around as her wrist, with a head as big as the knob of a door.
"Okay-what's your name again?" he asked.
She told him.
"Okay, Erica, take that rag off and get out of bed," he ordered. "Out of bed?" she repeated. "Right."
With perplexity she got out of the bed at the far side and let her nightie glide to the floor. Maybe it was the way he was staring at her, but as she stood facing him with the bed between them, clad only in her black garter belt and black nylons, she suffered her first twinge of modesty. She tried to cover herself with her hands inadequately as a warm blush spread over her body.
"Geezuz," he said. "I gotta hand it to that bastard Link-he sure can pick 'em." He sighed then and added, "Now-down on the floor."
She frowned. "On the floor?"
"That's right, beautiful. Down on all fours."
"But what for?"
It was his turn to frown as his hot gaze settled on her luxurious bush, brilliantly black against her smooth, white thighs and belly. "You mean our pal, Link, didn't tell you?"
"Didn't tell me what?" she asked with mounting dread.
"That I don't go in for the orthodox," he answered. "Just sticking it in a broad's cunt and banging away at her-that's strictly for the squares. That's why you got so many marriages ending up in the goddam divorce courts. How much imagination does it call for for a guy to jump a cunt and fuck her in bed? How many times can you do that before you feel it's like Chinese torture-water dripping on your fuckin' head. No, beautiful-with me you get variety. Never twice alike. Now-get down on your hands and knees and I'll show you what I mean."
CHAPTER TEN
Ordinarily, Erica might have thought twice about running her new nylons. But that was no concern as she obeyed his instructions and got down onto the floor on all fours. "Now-come on-crawl around here," he told her.
She came around to his side of the bed, on her hands and knees like some kind of animal. She looked up at him and he looked down at her. His cock was curling up out of the nest of hair that covered his crotch like a fat, drooling snake.
"You know where the pool is, in the playroom?" he asked her.
"Yes ... Larry showed me."
"Okay. You start crawling toward it," he explained. "I'll count to ten-very slow. Then I'm coming after you, crawling same as you. If you make the pool first. you get dealer's choice. You get it any way you want. But if I catch you before you get there, I do it the way I want. Understand?"
She understood, but she wasn't sure she was going to like it. Because she had no idea what he'd do to her if he caught up with her. That first impression of him, that he was so good looking, still held true. But the rough way he talked and the self-confidence that oozed out of his every pore frightened her.
"Okay, beautiful, time to go," he said. "Soon as you start moving, I start counting. Ready?"
She took one more look at his throbbing prick over her shoulder, then she turned and began to crawl. She could hear him toll off the count as she scrambled through the rooms. She tried to keep telling herself it was a little silly, just kid's stuff, like the games she used to play back at the orphanage when she was younger. But the look in his eyes and the threat of his menacing cock told her that it was far from child's play.
She was halfway to the playroom when she heard him finish his count and start to come after her. She tried to crawl faster but it only caused her to lose ground as she kept falling and burying her nose in the carpet.
She didn't look back until she got to the playroom door with the pool straight ahead. Then she glanced over her shoulder and saw him closing in on her fast. She doubled her efforts to try to stay ahead of him. She had only a few more feet to go to the pool, then at least he'd have to do it the way she wanted it. Now she was on the tile that bordered the pool. Just another foot or two and she'd be in the water. Suddenly she felt the grip of his right hand around her right ankle-then his free hand around her left.
He gave her a couple of quick, sharp jerks with each hand, and her legs were pulled out from under her and she flattened down on her belly, her big tits squashed against the tile.
She felt him spread her legs, and the next moment he was licking her buttocks, along the length of her deep crack and then tonguing her anus. She tightened and moaned with the new sensation he brought her. Even Larry hadn't kissed her there. At the same time, Ultra let go of her ankles and put one hand between her legs, one finger in her moist cunt. The other hand moved up under her to grab and massage her tits. She took as much of this stimulation as she could, then she took advantage of the opportunity to slither out of his grasp and slide over the smooth tile into the pool.
The moment she hit the water she began to swim toward the far end of the pool. It was the one thing they taught her back at the orphanage-how to swim. She even had a senior life-saving medal to prove it-the only thing of value she ever owned.
She couldn't have gone more than a dozen strokes when she heard a loud splash behind her. She turned and saw him overtaking her with long, powerful strokes. Before she got to the end of the pool he was alongside her.
"You pay a penalty, beautiful," he told her. "Why?"
"You didn't play according to the rules. You skipped away on me."
"I'm sorry."
He grinned harshly. "That's right, baby. That's what you're gonna be." There was no more swimming for her after that.
Feeling, probing, teasing, tickling every intimate part of her body, he got her aroused.
When they climbed out of the water, he reached for a couple of towels from an ornate rack near the pool. He insisted on taking off her wet garter belt and her wet stockings, then drying her off. His hands caressed the sensitive parts of her body, bringing her to a fever pitch of excitement.
Finally, when they were both dried off, he got up and walked to the bar at the far end of the playroom, while she lay back on one of the towels, trying to calm her nerves and quiet the raging inferno that he'd started inside her.
When he came back, she was surprised that he hadn't brought glasses, just a bottle of champagne.
"Champagne was never meant to be drunk out of glasses," he said as he popped the cork. He held the bottle above her head a moment, then he emptied some of the contents over her shoulders. She sat up quickly with the shock as he knelt beside her. As the champagne ran down over her breasts he licked it from her spiked nipples. Then he got up, walked to a beach chair and sat down. He told her to get up and stand before him, and then he poured more of the champagne over her belly, and as it ran down through her pubic hair and between her thighs his tongue lapped away at her.
When he was finished with her she was breathing heavily, her loins crawling with lust. He moved forward to the edge of the chair and poured what was left of the champagne over his chest so that it dribbled down over his hairy belly, cock and balls.
He ordered her to kneel before him, as part of the game they'd played. It was beautiful timing on his part.
All that concerned her was that he had a prick. A beautiful, big, fat, juicy prick that she wanted to suck on.
Obediently, she dropped to her knees before him on the tile and placed a hand at each side of his throbbing cock, palms down so that she could press down hard on his groin and make his prick stand up even more rigidly. Greedily, like a cat in heat, she began rubbing the side of her head, her cheeks and finally her lips against his cock that swayed so temptingly before her. She moaned with anticipation but delayed taking him in her mouth, until he grabbed her hair the way Mr. Williamson had grabbed her and forced his prick between her lips. Ultra had aroused her to such a pitch, she enjoyed taking his stiff cock deep in her throat.
Gently, she scraped her teeth over its sensitive folds as it throbbed inside her mouth, her tongue swabbing it as she sucked it good. She could feel his body stiffen as he closed his eyes and began to fuck her mouth as he would a warm, juicy cunt. She kept sucking, rolling her tongue back and forth over the head. With a groan, he shot off in her mouth. He sat there with his legs stretched out stiff at each side of her, his head thrown back, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, his fingers grasping the arms of the chair as he spurted his cum into her mouth. She swallowed every hot drop.
Later, he fucked her. But, as he promised, it was not in the orthodox manner. Together they got into the pool and went to where they could both stand. The water was almost to her shoulders. Then he eased his big, fat prick into her cunt and held her that way while he hammered his hairy belly against her. She did her part, too. With movements calculated to cause pleasure, she matched him, thrust for thrust, sliding the walls of her cunt back and forth along his pulsing cock, sucking on his penis with the lips of her vagina.
Almost at the exact instant that she felt his cock start cuming, her cunt began a series of convulsive spasms that raged through her body and made her scream and cum hard.
When her senses returned, Ultra had withdrawn from her but she was still throbbing deep in her cunt. Finally, as she stood with her back to the side of the pool, she put her hands down under the water and pressed hard against her belly. Some tendrils of cum dribbled out of her cunt.
Then Ultra helped her out of the pool, and they lay beside each other on the towels under a warm drying lamp. He waited until he was sure she had recovered sufficiently, then he asked, "Now, suppose you tell me just what the hell you want?"
She told him, "I-I want to be a chickie in one of your clubs."
He looked at her with surprise. "That's all?" She nodded faintly. "That's all, Mr. Ultra." He grinned amusedly. "You can start school tomorrow."
"School?"
"Of course, school. What the hell do you think? A broad just walks in off the street and we put her to work as a chickie? You got fuckin' rocks in your pretty head? You got a hell of, a lot of things to learn before you walk into a Cock Club and take care of any customers. Of course, your salary starts from the minute you start going to school; then, when you go to work, you get double. So, if you want to be on the payroll, you be at school tomorrow afternoon. In fact, I'll take you there personally. All we gotta do after we get up and have breakfast is take the elevator right downstairs to the club, where the school is located."
Erica looked at him with surprise. "You mean you want me to stay here with you all night?"
He grinned. "What the hell else did you figure? I ain't even started to work up a sweat yet."
"But Larry is waiting for me at the hotel."
"Fuck Larry! You belong to me now," Ultra told her as he got to his feet, picked her up in his arms and carried her toward the bedroom with the mirrored walls and ceiling.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Next morning, after a lazy "cunt-opener," as Ultra called it, he and Erica had breakfast served to them in bed by a curvaceous blond in a negligee; she registered keen disappointment at finding Erica in bed with the club owner. By the look she gave Erica and the way her lips were rouged, it was very clear that the blond had expected to be the one who'd share his breakfast and bed.
After breakfast was put away and they'd both had a swim and a shower, Erica and Ultra dressed and he took her down to the club to meet Big Hilda. Big Hilda was big. A red-headed Amazon who measured 5'10" in her flat heels. At thirty, she was fighting a losing battle to retain her fading beauty. Her ass was starting to spread, her tits were beginning to sag and crows were starting to scratch footmarks around her eyes. Only her long legs and thighs were still trim and youthful.
Big Hilda was in charge of the girls at the Cock Club. In fact, she was second in command, directly under Jack Ultra. It was her job to take the girls in hand and teach them how to behave like good little chickies. She taught the girls how to walk, how to wait on tables, when to be conversational with the customers and when to keep their mouths shut. She instructed them how to act, how to discourage a creep and milk a spender. She told them how far they could go with a customer, male or female, and to check with her before they accepted any propositions that would take them away from the club to some strange hotel room or apartment.
"That'll give us a chance to check out the propositioner," Big Hilda explained.
Big Hilda also designed the costumes the girls wore in the club. These consisted of bottoms with tail feathers that were as brief as the bikini that Larry had Erica try on at the Kingsley Arms. The tops were made of a special, sheer nylon with a subtle structure which exposed a bit of breast and nipple. A cute little hat in the shape of a chicken's beak, a sensuous pair of gladiator sandals in black suede dotted with rhinestones with straps going up to the knee, completed the costume.
Of course, Erica wouldn't be given a costume until she had learned the rudiments. Like the others who didn't bring their own rehearsal clothes, she was given a white bathing suit to wear.
Erica was amazed at how many things there were to learn about the job and what a lot of beauty she had for competition. Most of the girls were finalists from the "cattle cal!" that had been held a few weeks ago. Erica was even more surprised when Hilda asked her to stay after class was over that first day. Erica didn't understand the wise looks that some of the girls gave her when they filed out of the club. But she didn't think too much about it. She just gathered together her clothes and followed Hilda into her office-a sprawling layout that looked like it had been moved from Ultra's penthouse.
"Do you have a place to stay, honey?" Hilda asked Erica as the girl placed her clothes on a chair and stood before the desk in her white bathing suit.
"Yes ... I think I do," Erica replied, wondering if Larry was still waiting for her in the hotel room. Ultra had told her that he'd call Larry and let him know she was "in."
"Well, if you have any problems, honey, or you need money," Hilda said as she went around her big, white desk and sat down, "let me know and you can have an advance on your salary. We don't want our girls to have any money worries. Worries cause wrinkles, and when a girl gets wrinkles she turns in her tail feathers and goes looking for a new job." She looked at Erica across the desk and added, "You're probably wondering why I asked you to stay."
! "Yes, I am."
Hilda kept racing her eyes over Erica's limbs and body intently. "Well-to begin with, Mr. Ultra must think you are something extra special." Her eyes focused on Erica's breasts. "And I can see that you very definitely are. Secondly, the other girls have been attending class for more than a week now; this means you've got a considerable number of things to learn to catch up with them if you hope to start work as a chickie when they do. So, we won't waste any time, honey. You get that bathing suit off and we'll get started."
Erica looked at the woman. Why did everybody always want her to take her clothes off? "Is-is it absolutely necessary, Miss Hilda?" she asked.
"I'd rather you did, honey," Hilda replied. "If it weren't for the fact that we'd have a lot of males hanging around, I'd have all the girls work in the nude. It's so hard to follow the movements of a girl's body when she's wearing clothes. And body movement is so very important when a girl walks and stoops and leans forward to wait on tables. She's got to make sure that she keeps a customer's interest alive every moment. A girl can have the most beautiful body in the world, but if she doesn't learn to make all component parts work in perfect coordination, the whole thing is lost. There's beauty in movement, honey, same as there is in a girl's figure. So-if you please-take off the suit."
It was strange, Erica thought, but she had the same kind of a feeling she did when she had been alone with Miss Dowdy in that dressing room. But, with so many other very pretty girls around her all the time, she couldn't see any reason why Hilda would single her out. So she slipped the straps off her shoulders and peeled the bathing suit down off her body like the tight skin of a grape.
When the suit was off, she saw Hilda's blue eyes rove her naked body and she felt a slight shiver pass over her. She had nothing to fear, she told herself; Hilda didn't make a move. She just sat in her swivel chair behind the desk, watching.
"You are lovely," Hilda said. "Very lovely. I can see why Mr. Ultra shows an interest in you. When you've finished your training and get into one of our exciting costumes, you will cause a mild sensation in the club.
You'll probably be in constant demand." She took one more look at Erica and said, "Start walking back and forth, honey."
Erica carried out the woman's instructions, wearing only her black high heels that gave a trim, sensuous look to her ankles and calves. She could feel Hilda's eyes following every move she made and it made her knees feel weak and her tummy contract. She recognized the same look that she had seen in Miss Dowdy's eyes. She kept telling herself it was probably just her imagination. A woman in Hilda's position would never-
Hilda's voice shattered her thinking. "Beautiful, darling. Beautiful. You have natural coordination and a walk that could make a monk forget his vows. I can see that it's going to take only a very few private lessons with me to make you letter perfect. Now stand in front of the desk and stoop, honey."
Erica obeyed even though she was a little self-conscious, the way she always seemed to be in front of another woman. She tried to keep her thighs pinched together so that Hilda couldn't see her pussy.
"Come on, honey," Hilda goaded. "Bend those knees. All the way down 'til your behind rests on your heels. You'll never do it if you keep your thighs together. Spread them apart."
Resignedly, Erica did as she was told, bending her knees, spreading her thighs and exposing her cunt to Hilda's view. She saw Hilda's eyes settle on her moist, pink cunt. She wished that she didn't excite so easily. Her cunt got wet when someone just looked at it.
"Lovely," was Hilda's comment. "Now stand up before the desk and pretend you're serving me. Lean forward, honey. Don't be afraid to lean forward. We want customers to see plenty of cleavage."
On command, Erica stood facing the woman and leaned over the desk, her breasts dangling before Hilda's face. A thin line of perspiration appeared on Hilda's upper lip and her eyes blazed. Suddenly her hands came up from beneath the desk and she cupped Erica's tits in both hands.
"Christ!" Hilda cried out and began pushing up on the breasts, rubbing them furiously as the nipples hardened against her palms. "You're the horniest little bitch I ever saw. You know what you did? You had me masturbating under the desk."
Erica was too stunned to speak; she just kept standing there, staring, as if she were mesmerized. Hilda had been wearing a short-sleeved yellow sweater and matching pants. She still had on the sweater but the pants and her panties were gone. She had managed to work them off under the desk while Erica was parading back and forth across the office.
Hilda was a natural redhead. Erica could see that as the woman came toward her. The hair atop her head was several shades lighter than the bush that extended all the way up to her bellybutton and grew thick between her shapely thighs.
It was all so very familiar to Erica as Hilda grabbed her in powerful arms and pressed her close and kissed her. But it was a different kind of kiss than she'd received from Miss Dowdy. Hilda's lips were full and lush, soft and sweet, as she moved a hand down along Erica's spine and over her naked buttocks.
Instinctively, Erica began to struggle, trying to get away from the woman. But Hilda was much too strong for her.
"Don't fight me, honey," Hilda panted. "I can do yoa a lot of good-or a lot of harm. I can get you ready to put on a costume and go to work as a chickie inside of a week. Or I can tell Mr. Ultra you aren't ready and keep you sweating it out for the next couple of months-maybe forever-until he gets tired of you. So, be smart, honey. Be nice."
Erica's mind was whirling. Again she was faced with one of those damned decisions. All she had to do to get what she wanted was give in to this woman who was holding her in her arms, caressing her heating flesh. Everything she wanted was right there for her within her grasp-what a terrible fool she'd be to let it slip through her fingers now.
She felt Hilda's lips moving on her own lips, urging her lips to part, to open and accept the hot, slippery tongue that Hilda thrust into her mouth.
Erica moaned and stopped struggling, sinking deeper and deeper under Hilda's spell. She rather liked the feel of the older woman's bush and soft, hot belly against her own.
"Back up, honey," she heard Hilda whisper. "Back up and sit on the couch."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Erica allowed herself to be guided back to the big leather couch and be seated on the edge of one of the cushions. The chilly discomfort of the leather against her bare ass was soon forgotten as Hilda knelt on the carpet in front of her and spread her legs.
"As pink and fresh and lovely as I knew it would be," Hilda murmured as she stared at Erica's cunt. She kissed the girl's thighs and belly and then slid her moist lips down to Erica's eager pussy.
Erica leaned against the back of the couch, breathing fast, tense, her mouth dry and her eyes wide open as she felt Hilda's mouth against her cunt lips, kissing softly, lips barely touching. Different. So very much different than when Ultra licked the champagne from her cunt last night. Hilda was a woman-a hot-blooded, passionate woman who knew how to make another woman cum. More than that, she was a seasoned lesbian. Hilda was a master sucker.
Erica's thighs jumped as Hilda's tongue flicked over her clitoris. "Oh-ah-!" She began to squirm on the smooth leather couch as the tongue continued its exquisite torture and Hilda's fingers began toying with her stiffened, burning nipples. Under Hilda's artful fingers the girl's breasts swayed softly-plump melons that wobbled in whichever direction Hilda chose.
Erica felt as if every part of her body was on fire. She began to gyrate her hips, tensing and then relaxing her loins. Hilda slipped a hand beneath Erica's thighs until she cupped the soft cheeks of the girl's ass, wet and slippery with her juices. The. woman's fingers sank deeply into the cheeks and fondled them firmly. Then, with a sudden intake of breath, Hilda glued her lips as passionately as she could to the girl's clit. She sucked with a relentless ardor.
Erica began to shake her head violently from side to side, making her long, silky brown hair fall across her shoulders, across her aching breasts. She began to rock and shiver so uncontrollably that it was all Hilda could do to keep her mouth on Erica's cunt.
Erica began to babble incoherently as she felt Hilda's fingers move into the crack of her ass, running her pointed, lacquered nails up and down the warm crevice, at last finding the entrance to Erica's asshole.
Against Erica's shrill cry of protest, Hilda thrust her index finger into Erica's puckered hole. Once inside, Hilda's finger wiggled around as her tongue continued to lap at the girl's cunt and clit.
"Oh ... no ... no ... ," Erica panted. The mouth and the finger were driving her crazy. But Hilda had no intention of stopping until she had brought the girl off.
Erica was gasping for breath, her mouth opening and closing like a stranded fish, her fingers entangled in Hilda's red hair, trying to push away the woman's head but at the same time pressing her mouth deeper and deeper into her cunt.
And then, as Hilda's tongue lapped suddenly upwards to rub insistently on the stiff clit at the top of Erica's cunt, the younger girl went completely rigid. Her entire body tensed as Hilda's tongue continued to stroke her clitty-faster ... faster ... until, with a lurch-Erica went off!
She screamed and ecstasy erupted in her loins ... once ... twice ... more intense than the night before.
Hilda drew back her head and watched the girl's clitoris thump out her orgasm. Erica clenched her thighs together and, with her eyes closed, knifed forward, her arms doubled across her tummy as she uttered sobbing, animal sounds of delight.
Hilda didn't wait until Erica's climax had completely receded. She picked the girl's feet up from the floor, placed them on the couch and pushed the girl backwards down onto the leather cushions. Then she climbed onto the couch herself and straddled Erica so that she faced away from her in the classic sixty-nine position.
Opening her eyes gradually, Erica looked up and saw Hilda's totally exposed cunt hovering above her face. It was the first cunt, other than her own, that she had ever seen close up like this. It was really pretty, she thought. She could understand why men could become so hot with a cunt.
As she watched, Hilda gradually lowered her vagina to Erica's face; for one terrifying moment, Erica thought that she couldn't eat it. What Hilda wanted her to do was against her nature, obscene, unnatural. It was all right for lesbians. But she wasn't a lesbian. She didn't want to be a lesbian. She-
The warm feel of Hilda's satiny inner thighs against her cheeks checked her panic. As the wet, open cunt came closer, Erica ran her tongue over her full lips. The next moment Hilda's moist labia brushed her lips, and she kissed them and sucked the cunt lips into her mouth.
It didn't taste anything like she imagined a cunt would taste. It tasted more like raspberries. Then she remembered reading somewhere that there was a feminine deodorant on the market that came in several flavors-raspberry, orange, lemon-lime and jasmine. She guessed that was what Hilda had sprayed her genitals with. Maybe she'd better find out what it was and get some for herself.
As she sucked on Hilda's cunt she felt the woman's mouth on her own pussy. Her orgasm had abated and the coaxing of Hilda's tongue and lips was making her ready for another. She wondered if every woman was so hard to satisfy, if every woman could recover from such an intense orgasm as Hilda had just brought her and be ready to go again in such a short time....
As she savoured the wet flesh of Hilda's inner cunt lips, lapping now and then at the aroused clitoris, Erica could feel the fire growing and growing in the larger woman. Hilda began to churn her hips and ass, moaning softly all the time. Erica suddenly wanted to make the woman feel the way Hilda had made her feel. She worked her hands up under Hilda's sweater and began to fondle her tits.
It wouldn't be long! Erica could tell by the sounds Hilda was making, the way her body was tensing and the way the woman's juice was creaming her mouth.
"Oh-now-" Hilda yelled. "Now-up front-!" Erica's tongue whipped to the woman's sensitive clitoris.
"Oh-God!" Hilda cried out, and the next instant her orgasm raged through her body and she collapsed on top of Erica.
Hilda lay there for thirty seconds, enjoying to the fullest the beautiful climax that Erica had brought her. Then she lifted her head, kissed Erica's furry vulva and then plunged her mouth back into Erica's cunt to try to bring her a second orgasm. But she didn't get in more than half a dozen licks when they both heard the door open and a booming voice shatter their reverie.
"What the fuck is going on in here!" Neither Erica nor Hilda needed more than one guess to know who it was. Only one man had such a voice. Only one man would use such language at will.
Hilda was the first to raise her eyes and see Jack Ultra standing on the threshold. The spasm of fright she suffered gave her a strange, abnormal orgasm that brought her no pleasure.
Lifting herself off Erica, Hilda tried to get off the couch. But Ultra was across the room to grab a handful of her red hair and drag her to her feet. He drew back his right fist.
Hilda shivered in fear. "No, Jack-no-please-"
The hand shot out, caught her flush in the mouth and drove the words back down her throat. She staggered across the room and crashed to the floor.
Erica, staring in mute terror, started to get off the bed to help her.
"Leave her alone!" Ultra roared at her.
Erica gained her feet and stood facing him defiantly. "You have no right!"
"You shut your fuckin' mouth or I'll beat the shit outta you, too!" Ultra thundered fiercely, murder in his pale eyes. "You get your goddam clothes and get the fuck outta here."
Erica shivered anew at the sound of his voice. She grabbed her clothes off the chair and, with tears of fright and helplessness streaming down her cheeks, she started toward the bathroom.
"You stay right where you are and put your things on!" Ultra ordered.
As Erica began to hurriedly pull on her clothes, shivering and sobbing and not stopping to fasten hooks or close zippers, she saw Ultra go to where Hilda was lying on the floor, clad only in her sweater. He picked her up roughly and slammed her down onto the couch.
"You fuckin' lesbian cunt!" he grated. "I told you what I'd do if I found you cunt-kissing one of my girls and trying to turn em into a lady-lovin' bitch like you. I warned you never to screw around with anybody special like this one."
"It wasn't all her fault," Erica sobbed as she fastened a garter to her black hose and slipped a foot into her heels.
"I told you to stay the hell outta this!" Ultra rasped at her. "You're lucky I ain't kickin' you out on your goddam ass! Now get the fuck upstairs to my apartment and stay there. Y'understand?"
Erica swallowed and squeaked out, "Yes, sir-I-I understand, Mr. Ultra...."
"Then do it!"
Without answering, Erica turned on her high heels and hurried to the door. She opened it, and as she went out she heard a sharp slap, followed by Hilda's scream. She knew Ultra was going to work on the woman in earnest. If she wanted to become a chickie and stay healthy, she wouldn't even try to interfere.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Erica did as Ultra ordered. She went directly to his penthouse and waited there for him, wondering fearfully what he'd do to her, whether he'd beat her up the way he did Hilda. Erica couldn't stand being whipped. She couldn't stand that kind of pain. Even back at the orphanage she'd do anything that was asked of her, perform any task no matter how disagreeable, rather than be subjected to some of the whippings she saw other children receive because they'd disobeyed or broken some rule.
Her worries were groundless. By the time Ultra returned, his anger had abated. He still was displeased by what he'd seen in Hilda's office. But he was no longer irrational.
All he said to Erica was, "You keep away from that cuntsucker, y'hear? I mean outside of business. You go to her classes and learn to do all the things she'll teach you. But if she so much as looks cockeyed at your tits, you lemme know, y'hear? And I'll make her wish her old lady died before she was ever born." He took a breath, and as she stood before him he unceremoniously raised her skirt, slipped a hand down inside her panties and slid his middle finger into her still wet cunt.
She stood motionless, hands at her sides, staring back at him, trying to ignore what he was doing to her. She didn't like being treated so crudely, as if she were some tramp. No girl likes to think she's that easy, even if it's true. But the accomplished artistry of his fingers wiggling inside her cunt soon had her panting and shivering, unable to control her body.
"No ... Mr. Ultra ... please...."
He mocked her with a smile as his fingers kept teasing and seducing her senses. Finally he said, "Okay, let's get those clothes off while your cunt's still nice and juicy. I got a new trick I wanna try out on you."
He opened the zipper at the side of her red dress and helped pull it over her head, mussing her hair and making her appear even wilder than she was. When the dress was off, she stripped down her panties, removed her garter belt and let her black stockings slide down her thighs. She turned to him.
With eager fingers, Erica unzipped his fly, dug a hand inside his trousers and brought forth his cock. It was hot and hard. She wrapped her long, slim fingers around it and squeezed out a drop of clear liquid that formed a tiny pearl on the livid tip. There was a blinding, building pressure in her loins, and just holding his cock didn't satisfy her. She unbuckled his belt, and his pants and shorts dropped to the floor.
She dropped to her knees and lifted his great testicles in one hand. Why did the sight and scent of a man's rigid cock never fail to turn on her senses and fill her with delirious excitement?
With his throbbing cock waving above her head, she nibbled the loose flesh of his balls, running a hand over his belly where it joined his cock. She began to lick her way upwards, over his balls and along the shaft of his penis toward its shiny head. But he yanked at her hair and pulled her face away from him. "Later, babe. Right now-get up. I told you I wanna try out a new trick."
She got to her feet and he ran his hands over her sleek, satiny body. Then, while he continued to stand, he grabbed her buttocks in each hand and lifted her. He told her to wrap her legs around his hips and put her arms around his neck while he pressed his cock into her slick, open cunt.
Actually there was nothing "new" about it. It was the old Oriental position that probably dated back to the Ming dynasty. It was simply the first time he'd tried it on her.
Erica discovered that once she became adjusted to the position it offered increased clitoral contact. With his hands on her buttocks, Ultra forced her hips up, and they began to grind and pump their bellies together. For an ordinary man this was a tiring position. But Ultra had proven himself far from ordinary. Like his inexhaustible prick, he was built for endurance, and he held her that way until she came around his sizzling cock and he shot his cum into her convulsing cunt.
Later, on the bed, Erica said to Ultra that it might be a good idea if she got dressed and went back to the hotel to see Larry. "After all, I haven't even spoken to him since last night."
"And what did I tell you to do about him?" Ultra muttered.
"But he's probably worried about me."
"All that cruddy bastard worries about is how much he can take me for. I told you I'd call him, didn't I? Well, I did. I also told him he could pick up a check for his fuckin' expenses, plus his bonus for finding you." Ultra looked at her hard as she lay on the black silk sheet beside him, her cunt filled with his cum. "Did he happen to tell you that he's gonna be living off you from now on, like some lousy pimp?"
"No...."
Ultra twisted his face into a wise grimace. "That figures. The bastard never tells none of the broads that he discovers. But he gets ten percent of the salary that every one of em makes, same as he'll rake in ten percent of your take for as long as you're working for me. That's the deal I make with every guy that brings me a quail. They like to call themselves talent scouts. But they're no more than fuckin', glorified pimps-same as any other guy that lives off cunt."
Erica looked at him a little strangely. She knew better than to pose the question, but she couldn't help wondering why he didn't include himself in that category since he also "lived off cunt." On the other hand, maybe he salved his conscience by the fact that he was the impresario-the one who paid the girls to work in his respectable club-although, from the bits and pieces of conversation that Erica had picked up at her first session of class, Jack Ultra's chickies did a hell of a lot more to please the customers than merely serve them food and drink.
"I still think it's only right that I go to the hotel and see him," Erica told Ultra.
"He ain't at the hotel," Ultra replied.
Erica frowned. "Where is he?"
"Gone."
"Gone where?"
"Back on the road, sellin' his goddam tractors and lookin' for more cunt."
Erica was a little surprised and hurt. "He-he left without even seeing me-or saying goodbye?"
"That's right. That's according to the rules. Once a guy brings me a broad and I put her on the payroll, he's all done with her. I don't let none of 'em hang around. Because all they could do is fuck up the works by being possessive, maybe taking the girl to bed and getting her mind off her job. Forget the bastard and let's see if we make it one more time before I gotta go to work. You on top this time."
Erica obliged him by climbing atop him. She knew it was going to be a lot harder to forget Larry than Ultra made it sound. She didn't know what kind of backgrounds any of the other girls had. But she was sure none of them owed their "discoverer" as much as she owed Larry.
Larry had come along when she was at absolute rock-bottom-when she didn't have a dime or a prayer or even a dress to her name. He bought her pretty clothes and showed her a kind of existence she had never known before. He gave her new hope by bringing her here to Los Angeles to meet Jack Ultra, opened up a whole new world for her by helping her get a job. If she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that he taught her what it was like to be genuinely fond of someone and to want them for something more than just momentary lust. No, it wasn't going to be easy to forget Larry-but she knew she was going to have to try. She belonged to Ultra.
That evening, Erica thought surely that Ultra would ask her to accompany him downstairs for her first visit to the Cock Club. But she was to discover that he had another of his strict rules about that.
"I don't let any broad that's gonna become a chickie visit the club before she's ready to go to work," he told Erica. "It's bad psychology. Once she gets the feel of being treated like a customer, she's never gonna be happy reversing the situation and waiting on tables. You'll see all the club you want when you earn your tail feathers. Until then, you watch television, pour yourself a drink. Just make sure you got the bed nice and warm for me when I come back."
There was plenty of buzzing and guessing among the fledgling chickies next day when Big Hilda appeared before them with a bruised jaw and a badly discolored left eye. Only Erica knew the true story and she wasn't about to tell anyone.
It wasn't until class was over that Hilda again singled out Erica, took her to one side of the room out of earshot of the other girls and whispered, "Thanks for trying to help me yesterday with Mr. Ultra. I appreciate it."
"I only wish I could have stopped him from hurting you," Erica replied. "I wish he had listened to me."
"Listen? Not him. Not ever. Once his mind is set on a thing he'd walk right through a brick wall." She walked with Erica toward the chair where the girl had left her clothes. "I don't know how you feel about the guv of how he feels about you. But I got just one thing to say-don't cross him. Whatever he asks you to do-no matter how far out-make sure you do it. If you do, you'll get along fine with him. If you don't, he'll turn on you like a rattlesnake. I've seen him with more girls than I got pubic hairs. Some of them he really had a case on. I mean, he treated them like they were princesses. There was nothing they wanted that he didn't get them. But the minute they crossed him or refused to do what he asked, they ended up with a hell of a lot worse than I got from him yesterday.
Erica smiled weakly. "Thanks. I'll watch my step."
"I hope so," Hilda went on. "I really do. It's only once in a while that a girl comes along that I get the hots for, and even less often that a girl's willing to go to the wall for me like you did. That's why I'm warning you. That's why I'm gonna make a special effort to see you're ready to start work with the rest of the group. But I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for."
"I'm not sure I know what you mean."
"I mean, as far as Joe Blow and the rest of the general public is concerned, the Cock part of the club, like its trademark, stands for a rooster. But after you move the rooster to one side, you find out there's a hell of a lot more behind it. You're going to be mauled and manhandled. You're gonna have strange hands grabbing at those beautiful knockers of yours. More than one guy is gonna goose you when you bend over to serve him and his party. And there's going to be lots of propositions that'll take you away from the club after curfew."
"Does Mr. Ultra allow it?" Erica asked with mild surprise.
Hilda smiled again mirthlessly. "Allow it? He encourages it."
"Even if he-if he likes a girl very much?"
Hilda wagged her red head slowly. "Mr. Ultra never lets his personal feelings interfere with business. And with his colossal ego he's always confident that when you do it with him it's for pleasure, even for love-but when you're with anyone else, you're merely doing it for the money involved. So don't ever kid youself that he's going to keep you under his protective wing just because he happens to like you. On the other hand, don't ever let yourself get serious with anybody else-male or female-or you'll be sorry you ever found out about a man named Jack Ultra.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
During the week that followed, Erica learned all the things that Big Hilda had to teach her about becoming a chickie. While there was no formal graduation exercise, it was a big day for Erica as well as for the other six girls who had finished their training period and received their chickie costumes.
Hilda was right. While the other girls were able to cause customers an erection in their costumes, in hers Erica could keep any cock hard for the entire evening. As predicted, the moment she showed herself in the club she caused a mild panic. Everybody, especially the regulars, began sending messages to Hilda, who served as chief hostess in the club, that they wanted Erica to wait on their tables. When that didn't bring results they went right to the top with their requests.
Ultra just smiled and told them to have patience, that he'd have Erica rotate her stations and get around to everybody before the night was over. Ultra had good reason to smile: Erica's presence not only guaranteed that most of the customers would be back the next night for a second helping, but for the privilege of a close-up view and occasional feel of Erica's fantastic breasts and legs he tacked on an additional cover charge, which they paid without a squawk.
By the time three o'clock rolled around, Erica not only was tired from her first night waiting on tables, but her tits and her ass, even the insides of her thighs, ached from being poked and grabbed.
What nobody told Erica or any of the rest of her class was that on some nights, when closing time came and most of the members left, some of the big spenders stayed behind.
Not all the girls were invited to stay. Those who did were told that they'd share the very generous pool that the members would make up. Erica, of course, was among the few asked to stay.
It wasn't necessary for the girls to serve any more drinks because serving drinks after three AM. was illegal. Besides, there were opened and unopened bottles of champagne in ice buckets at every table.
All that was asked of the girls was that they be sociable. Being sociable meant sprawling in some guy's lap or lying across one of the tables and allowing themselves to be stripped.
It was Erica's first experience at an orgy, and while some of the things going on around her shocked and frightened her, she had to admit that at the same time it was exciting.
It wasn't long before she found herself as naked as the others, joining in the revelry right along with the older, more experienced girls to whom these orgies were old hat.
Cocks began to show everywhere, as if in tribute to the club's name. Big cocks, little cocks. Fat cocks and skinny cocks. Cocks with their big, wet heads exposed. Cocks that were covered over with tight foreskins.
A man with a long penis pulled Erica down on his lap, his tool sliding into her vagina like a hot knife in warm butter. Grabbing her tits and holding them, he bounced her up and down on his thighs until he shot his sperm into her.
While she sat there, a fat man with a pot belly placed his stubby prick between her breasts. Pressing them together with the palms of his hands, he held himself there and had himself a tit fuck, finally shooting his cum all over her tits and belly.
She was too drunk by now to know what anyone was doing to her. She just knew that, like the other girls, she was being passed from table to table, lap to lap-kissed, manhandled and screwed. She wasn't even aware of when the orgy ended or how she got up to Ultra's penthouse. She knew only that the instant that her head hit the pillow she was asleep.
A mouth at her breasts awakened her. She blinked her eyes a few times to clear away the cobwebs and try to make out where she was. It was morning. She could tell by the sunshine streaming in through the big picture window that looked out over the Pacific. She raised her head just enough to look down and see Ultra smiling back at her between the valley that separated her big breasts.
"Hi'ya," he greeted her, "for a few minutes there I was gonna call in the coroner. Except for your breathing, you looked like you were dead."
Everything came roaring back into her brain in a torrent. She sat up in bed and looked at him.
"Last night?" she asked anxiously. "It was a dream. I mean, none of that really happened?"
"The party?" He laughed. "Of course it happened-and you turned out to be the queen of the ball. Before you passed out, you must've taken care of every guy that was present."
She kept looking at him bewilderedly. "You didn't care?"
"Care?"
"You must like me? I mean-you must feel something toward me-to want me to be with you-stay with you all the time, like I've been these past few days?"
"Of course I like you, baby." He fondled her aching breasts. "I think you're terrific. I never before knew a broad who could cause me a perpetual hardon the way you do." He shifted his position on the bed so that she could see for herself how she affected him. He was wearing only the bottom of his pajamas and under the material his cock was standing up straight and hard.
"And what happened last night doesn't bother you at all?" she puzzled.
He shrugged. "Why should it bother me? I was proud of the way you handled all those guys."
She kept shaking her head bewilderedly. "I don't see how you could be if you had any feeling at all for me."
"It's easy." He hesitated a moment, then grew serious and added, "I never told this to anybody else in my life. But I've been dealing in cunt ever since I was a kid. My old lady broke me in. It used to hurt me at first to see her get into bed with a strange new guy every night. I sometimes used to want to cry when I'd see the guys pick up her skirt and stick their pricks in her cunt. I was very young and I used to think they were hurting her. A couple of times I ran into the room and beat on the back of the guy she was with, trying to push him off her. Then one day, when I was a little older, she told me it was time I found out what it was all about. So she laid down on the bed, pulled up her dress and made me screw her. Just that one time she had me do it so I'd know what it was all about. After that I used to do my sister. I never knew how come I didn't knock her up. Anyway, it wasn't long after that that I started bringing guys home for the two of 'em. Yeah, pimping. Then I branched out and got me a couple of whores. I did okay until I found out it wasn't what I was looking for, that pimps are not exactly accepted by the people I wanted to be accepted by. I tried a lot of things after that. Even fought my way up to be a contender for the heavyweight title. But that wasn't what I wanted either. So I kicked around some more until I got the idea for this club." He sighed. "The only reason I'm filling you in on all this is because you asked me. Because you wanted to know how come I can be the way I am. How I can feel the way I do about you and still not be bothered that you're screwing some other guy. Okay, so now you got your answer. I loved my old lady and I loved my sister and I goddam near married one of those first whores that worked for me. But I still went around peddlin' their ass."
He suddenly grabbed Erica's jaws in his hand and held up her head so that she couldn't move while he glared in her eyes.
"But I want you to get one thing straight and I want you to get it right, here and now," he added sharply. "I don't care how much fuckin' around you do-just as long as I know about it. Long as I give it the okay. But I want you to listen, and listen good, you beautiful cunt. If I ever find out you're hustlin' on the sly or that you're gettin' a bang out of it with anybody but me, I'll beat your beautiful tits off and then I'll boot your fuckin' little ass out the door so fast you'll think you were goosed with a moon rocket." He squeezed her jaws harder in his strong fingers. "You understand?"
Tears welled in her eyes from the hurt he was causing her. "Yes-yes-I understand."
"Good." He kissed her lips and let go of her face. Then he pushed her head back down onto the pillow and leaned over her. "Think you could go a round?"
"I'd-I'd like to take a shower first-I mean-after last night...."
He guffawed. "You mean you don't even remember that?"
"Remember what?"
"That I put you under the shower last night when I brought you up here."
Erica stared at him incredulously. "You ... you did?"
"Of course I did. You think I'd let you sleep in the same bed with me with that cum all over you?" He kissed her and slid a hand down to part her thighs. Then he got on her and into the saddle. He frowned down at her as if he couldn't figure something out. Then he said, "Y'know something? You're the first goddam broad I ever got a bang out of screwing regular."
He proceeded to show her exactly what he meant.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Erica found out that the caper she attended her first night as a chickie was not a nightly event. Not more than once a month did it take place. It just happened to occur on her first night. The pool that the girls split came to $200 apiece, which wasn't bad for a night's work, distasteful as it might have been.
It wasn't until she'd been working at the club for almost a week, however, that she drew her first outside assignment. A lot of guys tried to arrange to take her home with them, but Ultra not only asked a high price for her services but was also very choosy about whom she went home with. He didn't want some guy to talk her out of his clutches.
The guy she drew as her first assignment, the first guy who passed the test and came up with enough dough to pay for her services, was named Carlton Knoll. He was high society. During the Civil War, his great grandfather made a pile supplying "slave tai!" to both Northern and Southern troops just back of the lines. He turned this money into a blockade-running operation and financing the right politicians; he came up with fortune and respectability. Nobody ever mentioned the illicit beginning, but it all rubbed off on Carlton Knoll. who, as Erica was soon to discover, was a real sex kook.
He had a sprawling estate on a hillside in Souther California's beautiful Benedict Canyon, with a retinue of servants. But he didn't take Erica there. He took her to a suite he maintained in an exclusive hotel just back off the Strip.
The first thing Knoll did when they got to the apartment was break open a bottle of champagne. Then he took a mink coat from one of the closets.
"How would you like to earn a coat like this?" he asked her.
Erica's eyes sparkled as any girl's might at the though of having her very own mink. To someone like Erica was something beyond even her most fanciful dream Her own mink coat!
"All you have to do is play nice," Knoll said. Then he spread the mink coat on the floor and told Erica to sit down with him on it.
He wasted no time. He unzipped his fly and flopped out his cock. It wasn't nearly as big as Ultra's, or Larry's or even Hank's back on the farm. But it certainly was stiff and wet.
Erica was wearing a new, black satin evening gown with a plunging neckline that Ultra had bought her. I revealed plenty of breast and had a split skirt that exposed a couple of inches of gleaming, bare thigh.
The taut head of Knoll's cock bobbed up and down a couple of times in tribute to her loveliness. Then he said, "Come over here, Erica darling, so I can reach you."
She moved closer and he let his hands glide over the smooth black satin that covered her breasts and her thighs.
"While I undress you, darling," he whispered, his eyes burning into the white flesh that peeked above the neckline of her black dress, "I want you to play with me. You don't mind playing with a man, do you, Erica dear?"
Erica ran a palm over the smooth fur of the coat they were sitting on and murmured, "No, sir."
"But don't hurry," he cautioned. "Be very soft and gentle. Just tease ... and make sure you stop, darling, when I tell you. I don't want to cum-not so soon. You understand?"
She wagged her head so that her hair fell over one side of her face and down over her breast, knowing that it made her look sexier. As he ran a hand upward along her thighs and under her skirt to unfasten her garters and roll down her hose, Erica began to play with his penis. She drummed her fingertips lightly back and forth over the shaft, lingering for a moment each time she got to the head.
"Uram-nice ... very nice," he sighed.
Erica wasn't sure whether he was referring to her body or the sensation she was bringing him.
She kept drumming on him, giving him an occasional squeeze, until he removed her bra and her huge breasts sprang out at him, freed from their cage. Then she took hold of the head of his prick in just her fingertips, cupping it as she would a boiled egg, and began to stroke him, gently, hardly moving her hand at all, bringing him a pleasurable sensation that was little short of an orgasm itself.
By the time he got her panties off; her hand was wet and sticky from his pre-cum juices. Then he told her to lie down on the soft mink while he quickly pulled off his own clothes.
Lying there on her back with her legs crossed at the knees to hide her cunt and her head pillowed on her hands, she looked up at Knoll and watched him undress. She had gotten over her squeamishness about viewing a man's naked body. In fact, she felt as if she were becoming sort of a man watcher with certain preferences in male anatomy.
As far as Carlton Knoll was concerned, he wasn't nearly as distasteful with his clothes off as she had imagined. Except for a little flabbiness in his arms and legs and a slight tire of flesh around his middle, he could have passed for a much younger man.
When his clothes were all removed, he got down on the fur beside her and told her to turn over on her tummy. She wondered if this was what the girls in the dressing room meant when she told them she was going home with him and they said he was a sex freak. She wondered if he was going to bug her the way Hank did that day in the barn.
She held her breath and tightened her stomach muscles as she felt his hands rove the backs of her thighs and then climb the cheeks of her ass. He spread her buttocks and fingered her anus the way Ultra had done, digging his manicured index finger deep inside and making her contract her cheeks.
After he was finished, he made her part her legs and he fingered her cunt. Then he made her roll over on her back, bend her knees upward and spread her legs as far as they would go. He fondled her breasts until she thought her nipples would pop. Then he inspected her vulva, testing the elasticity of her labia and her vagina by inserting three of his fingers into her cunt.
By the time he finished his minute inspection she was writhing like an animal in heat, panting. Then, as he drew back from her, she closed her eyes and lifted her buttocks off the gently tickling fur and offered her dripping cunt up for his penetration.
When he didn't immediately shove his prick into her yawning cunt, she opened her eyes and saw he had reached for something behind him on the floor.
"You've probably been done in a lot of different ways," he said.
She nodded, barely conscious of what he was saying to her.
"If I may use a gutter word, I'd like to tell you how I'd like it."
"Go right ahead," she panted. "I like to be bottle fucked."
Her head cleared for a moment and she gasped, "You'd like to be what?"
"Bottle fucked," he said. "Do you mind?"
She kept staring up at him bewilderedly. "I don't know. I haven't any idea what it is."
"I'll show you," he told her and showed her the pint milk bottle he'd hidden behind the leg of the big easy chair behind him. "All you've got to do is hold this bottle between your thighs with the neck pointing out toward me."
He showed her how. Then he climbed atop her, straddled her and fitted his cock into the tight neck of the bottle. "Mind?"
"No-I guess not. But I don't get the point. Why would you rather have a bottle?"
He smiled blandly. "It's the way I like it ... in the bottle. It's safe and sanitary. No chance of me making you pregnant and I have all the thrill of you under me-your breasts, your thighs, your whole body."
Erica told him that there was little chance of her being caught because the first thing that chickies at the Cock Clubs were taught was to take pills. In fact, Big Hilda saw to it that they took them each and every night before they left the dressing room to wait on anyone. It was another one of Ultra's strict rules.
"Any broad that gets knocked up is a goddam lousy investment," was his argument. "She can't squeeze her belly into a costume the minute she starts to swell up, and then she's no good for any action for maybe a couple of months after she drops the goddam kid. Besides, I don't want no cunt with kids working in my clubs. She wants to play mamma and have some kid suck on her tit-fuck her-I'll get somebody else."
In reply to Erica's explanation about the pill, Knoll said, "It's not that I doubt your word, darling. But, you see, after the two wives I've had to marry because I got them pregnant and after being named in several other paternity cases, I decided to be on the safe side. So I experimented and, weird or not, I found I liked it just as much, if not more, this way. Would you mind lifting your legs just a little higher, darling?"
Erica did so and he began to make love to her, kissing her breasts and massaging her hips while he kept pumping against her until he shot his cum into the bottle. Then he took the bottle, turned it around and shoved the neck of it into her cunt as far as it would go. He began working the bottle in and out of her cunt, masturbating her.
As a vacuum began to build up inside the bottle, it pulled the loose, wet folds of her flesh inside with a suction that was more terrific than any mouth could offer. She screamed and tried to wiggle free, but it was impossible for her to dislodge the bottle as her orgasm began to catch on. She screamed again as she rode the waves of her climax and then began to sob.
He pulled several times but the bottle wouldn't let go. Finally he w-edged a finger into her vagina and broke the vacuum. Then, as she lay there on her side on the mink coat, curled up, Knoll took the bottle, held it up to the light and began to shake it.
"I wonder," he mused with an almost maniacal gleam in his baggy eyes, "if you're fertile and I'm fertile, whether our seed possibly could germinate under heat inside this bottle?"
Erica turned her head very slowly and looked up at him to ascertain whether he was joking. He was not!
After that, she couldn't get out of his apartment quickly enough. But before she left him sitting completely nude on the edge of a chair, still studying his discharge and hers mingling inside the bottle, he kept his word to her. He gave her the mink coat.
When she got back to the penthouse she found Ultra waiting up for her. He was propped up in bed, as usual wearing only his pajama bottoms, watching a late movie on television.
He took one look at the beautiful mink coat and whistled. "Baby-you must've really shown Creepy Carlton a time for him to kick through with a fur like that." He picked up the skirt of the coat and blew on it. "The real McCoy, too!"
Erica stared at Ultra with a hurt look. "You knew about him, didn't you?"
"Knew what?" Ultra asked with feigned innocence. "That-that he's a kook?"
"Isn't everybody?"
"But-but you don't know what he did to me!"
Ultra smiled. "The bottle bit?"
"You knew!" she blurted out, almost in tears.
"Sure, I knew. The guy's a nut. A nut with a bankroll. He blows his load in a bottle with every broad he lays. But he doesn't really hurt anybody. I mean permanently. He just likes sticking his wang in the neck of a milk bottle, that's all. He's got some kind of an idea that one day he's gonna meet a cunt fertile enough so's he can give birth to some kind of freak in a bottle." He began to laugh loud and amusedly. "Who knows, maybe you'll be the freak's old lady?"
She ripped off the mink coat and threw it at him and let out an outburst of profanity that she'd learned from her association with him. He just kept laughing as he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bed with him and began kissing and making love to her with a fervor that soon made her forget Carlton Knoll, his milk bottle and his inane ideas.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The second guy Ultra allowed Erica to leave the club with was Ted Valouch. Even if Valouch hadn't come through with the necessary cash, Ultra probably would have okayed the deal anyway. Valouch was not only a special pal from back in the old days when he was pushing leather, but according to the whispered word he was a member of the local branch of the Mafia. On numerous occasions, he'd used his strong arm to keep Ultra out of trouble with a few other organizations that had tried to push him around.
Valouch had a house in the Hollywood Hills that he picked up cheap when the original owner, a big-shot movie producer, hit the skids and defaulted on the mortgage payments. Valouch looked a little bit like a guy Central Casting would send to somebody shooting a Mafia picture. He was swarthy with jet black hair and long black sideburns. He wasn't a very big guy and he didn't pack a lot of weight. But he wore a hat like the one Capone used to wear with the brim turned down at one side and skin tight pants that showed the shape and size of his cock.
Like Carlton Knoll, Valouch brought Erica home with him for a purpose and he didn't lose any time getting down to it. After the usual drinks they went into the bedroom, and while he sat on the edge of the bed he had Erica do a slow strip for him. In spite of the many times she'd disrobed in front of men she still wasn't very proficient at it. But that only made it all the more interesting, Valouch told her.
When all her things were off she got into bed with him, and he proved himself a very efficient lover, getting her cunt well heated before he shoved his cock into it. He was big and he fitted her snugly. She was very satisfied with the second arrangement Ultra had made for her. It was sort of a relief to have it in the normal way after her experience with Knoll.
She didn't even mind obliging Valouch and taking the superior position. In fact, she sometimes preferred it that way because it put her in control of things and she could always be assured of achieving an orgasm. So she climbed on him, fitted his cock to her vagina and pressed down on him until she could feel his tip pressing against her cunt. Then she began to move against him, all the way up, all the way down. It was beautiful-until she suddenly felt something shoved into her anus.
It was too big to be his finger, and looking back over her shoulder she saw no one else was behind her. Then she heard a whirring sound and felt a sudden, strange stimulation between the cheeks of her ass. She knew at once what he'd done. He'd inserted an electric vibrator into her ass.
"Oh no!" she cried out and tried to reach back to pull it out. But he pushed the plastic vibrator in deeper so she couldn't dislodge it with her wiggling, and turned it up to its highest level.
"Oh no! God-no!" she kept screaming with a mounting hysteria, as she began squirming around uncontrollably. His mouth at her breasts, his prick in her cunt and the vibrator deep in her anus, were bringing her a sexual stimulation that she never imagined her body could stand. It was torture, an exquisite kind of soul-racking torture that brought on her first orgasm in half the usual time. And they kept happening, dovetailing into each other, until she couldn't tell when one was beginning and the other ending. She knew only that she was growing weaker and weaker. Whether or not the vibrations through her had anything to do with it, all Erica knew was that he shot what felt like a half gallon of cum into her body, flooding her cunt.
He turned off the vibrator and removed it from her anus. But if she thought it was time for her to go home, she was mistaken. He got her a drink, poured one for himself and lay beside her on the bed, feeling her until his penis stirred and raised its inflamed, fat head again. This time he had an even more ingenious contraption to show her. A snap-on stimulator, similar to a washer that fitted over his cock, with an appendage at the top designed to stimulate her clitoris area as well as his penis.
It was another couple of minutes of near madness for Erica before he found his satisfaction and left her limp and lifeless, drained of every last drop of sexual desire.
After Valouch there were others. All kinds of sexual goons, who seemed to single her out for their own particular type of pervjsion. It seemed as if not just any girl would satisfy them. They had to have one as young and beautiful and sexually attractive as Erica was:
There was, for instance, the man who had a huge plastic ball in his apartment. It was about four feet high. She'd bend across the ball and the man would stick his cock in her. Then, with her arms flung out wide to the sides, they'd roll very slowly around the room. The man said it gave him a terrific thrill.
Another guy insisted she sit in a tub of water, almost too hot for her to stand, until the lower part of her abdomen was a brilliant pink. Then he'd quickly get her into bed and stick his prick in her while her cunt was hot.
Through all this, there were also Ultra's bizarre sexual needs for Erica to take care of. She remembered the first time he ever invited another girl up to the penthouse with them to take part in a trio.
Her name was Liv and she was a beautiful import from Norway. Ultra brought girls from all over the world to work as chickies in his clubs. Liv was a natural blond, as fair as a girl could be, with straight, silky hair that reached well down past her slight shoulders. Except for her breasts, Liv had the body of a fourteen-year-old-beautifully proportioned but very slight and delicate. Of course, she wasn't fourteen. To work in the Cock Clubs a girl had to be nineteen. While Liv's boobs weren't nearly as big as Erica's, they certainly were not small. They had wide, pink areolas and larger than average riipples that seemed to be perpetually erect.
Both Erica and Liv had a couple of drinks downstairs at the bar after the club closed, enough for both of them to be in a very sensual and cooperative mood. So it didn't take very long for the two of them to get their clothes off and get into bed with Ultra once they got upstairs.
Ultra stretched out nude on the mattress and told the two girls he was just going to lie there and they could let their imagination run wild. He didn't know what he was in for.
They started out kissing him and rubbing their tits over his chest and against the sides of his face. Then Erica went on kissing him, leaning over him so that her long hair fell at each side of his face like a brown waterfall. Meanwhile, Liv dragged her small, wet tongue down over his nipples and his belly, kissing around his testicles and thighs. She made no attempt to make contact with his prick that stood up like the trunk of a tree.
"What the fuck're you doin' down there?" he grunted.
"Patience, Daddy," Liv teased, and then blew with a gentle tickle on his cock. It began to throb violently and the first flow oozed out of the tip and ran down the deep valley at the underside. Liv teased a couple of moments longer, and then her head dived for his swaying cock and she caught it in her mouth and sucked hard on it.
"Oh ... Christ!" he moaned, and lifted his rump off the bed and began pumping into her mouth.
Liv pulled back from him and let him catch his breath, then she dove at his cock again and sucked again, even harder than before.
His body jerked and he made an effort to try to raise himself. But Erica pinioned his shoulders to the mattress and dug her tongue deeper into his mouth, almost as if she were delighted to be able to pay him back for some of the things he and his friends had done to her the months she'd been working at the club.
However, she didn't want to lose out on anything that might be happening down below. So she gave him a long, final kiss and then joined Liv at his genitalia area.
Liv was sucking away at him like she might suck on a sugar cane, until she saw Erica's face directly across from her. She let go of his cock. It was a bright pink, almost red, from her sucking. Apparently, Erica thought, they learn how to do things very expertly over in Norway.
"Some?" Liv asked.
Erica waved her head." O. K."
Liv moved her head back so that Erica could take his hard prick in her mouth. It was sopping wet, from the tip right down to his balls, with Liv's saliva. But it tasted good and Erica relished it.
"Play a little game with you," Liv whispered.
"What kind of a game?" Erica asked as she took Ultra's cock out of her mouth for a moment.
"We alternate. Ten sucks apiece and whoever makes him cum wins."
"Wins what?"
Liv leaned over and whispered in Erica's ear.
Erica considered a moment, then agreed to Liv's proposition.
"You take your ten sucks first," Liv whispered.
Erica nodded and took Ultra's penis back between her lips. She sucked hard ten times. But nothing happened. Then Liv took over.
Ultra apparently had lost all track of what was happening as he just lay there moaning. The difference in the girls' mouths, the weight of their tongues, the way they sucked, was a revelation that had his mind spinning and his body ready to burst into flame.
Liv sucked ten times. Still nothing.
"But he's awfully ready," she whispered.
Erica sucked hard, rolling his juicy head back and forth over her tongue. He was on the verge of cuming. But it was Liv's mouth that ignited the spark, and she held onto him tightly as he filled her mouth with hot cum.
Erica couldn't imagine what had happened to her. But she felt a sudden wave of something akin to jealousy because Liv had been the one to bring him off. She wasn't to be denied. The moment Liv let go of him, Erica's hot, panting mouth engulfed his limp cock and made him stiff again, devouring him voraciously, until he spurted his second load down her slick throat.
That wasn't all. Neither of them was through with him. They continued to work on him throughout the night, making him hard and making him cum, doing everything that sexually proficient girls could think to do to a man-with their hands, their breasts, their mouths and their pussies. Finally he fell back and cried, "Uncle," milked of every drop of sperm inside him.
Then, and only then, did Liv collect her reward from Erica for winning the "game" they played with Ultra. It began with Erica lying on her back and splaying her legs and Liv giving Erica a tonguing that was far and away more beautiful than Big Hilda's. The orgasm that Liv brought her was a mind-shattering experience that Erica couldn't seem to get over. Maybe it was because she was infatuated with Liv's blond beauty.
When Liv rolled over and it was her turn to reciprocate, she found the blond girl's pink cunt a thing of delicate beauty, with a scent that was delightfully feminine and a taste that was sweeter than nectar. She nibbled the soft flesh and drank the juices, whipped Liv's clitoris to a froth. She brought the little Norwegian to the very brink of an orgasm, when Ultra shook himself to life like a. great bear and sat up and saw what they were doing.
He reached out, grabbed a handful of Erica's brown hair and yanked her mouth from the girl's pulsating cunt. He slapped her as he'd slapped Big Hilda and knocked her onto the floor. But that was only mild to what he did to Liv.
He slapped her face and he slapped her tits until they were both red. Then he dragged her off the bed and kept kicking her round, little ass as she ran through the rooms until she was out the door.
When he returned to the bedroom his face was livid. He glared down at Erica, who still sat on the floor, hugging the side of the bed, trembling.
"Are you a fuckin' lesbo?" he demanded.
"No, Jack," she muttered. "I'm not. Honestly I'm not."
"That's the second time I found you with vour nose in some broad's cunt!"
"It's the only two times in my life I ever did it-I swear it!" Erica sobbed hysterically.
He bent forward and took hold of her and lifted her to her feet. "Why?" he wanted to know. "Why do you do such a fuckin' perverted thing?"
"I don't know."
He held her at arm's length and looked at her as tears began to bubble out of her eyes and streak down her cheeks.
"For Christ's sakes, don't cry!"
"I'm ashamed-really I am."
He looked at her a moment longer and then drew her close to him. "Okay. This time I'll take your word for it.
I know Hilda's a lesbo and I've had some backwash about that Norwegian cunt that just left." He held her away again. "But I'm warnin' you-the next time-"
"There won't be any next time-I promise!"
"The next time," he went on, "I'll kick your ass out the door, same as I just kicked that bitch-I'll wash my hands clean of you! You understand?"
"I understand," Erica whimpered.
He pushed her away with mild disgust. "Okay-get in the bathroom and get that fuckin' cunt stink off you."
Erica didn't wait for another word. She turned and hurried into the John.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
About a week after that affair, Ultra told her," I want you to make sure you look extra beautiful tonight after the club closes."
Erica looked at him apprehensively. "Another date away from the club?"
He frowned. "You're complaining? You got yourself a mink coat and more money in the bank than any other goddam broad who ever worked for me."
Erica didn't bother to tell him that she wasn't banking any of the money she was making. The dull life of drudgery that had been hers at the orphanage was still so indelibly impressed on her mind that except for the clothes and other things she needed, every dollar she earned went to the orphanage; earmarked for the children so that their lives wouldn't be as miserable as hers had been.
"I'm not complaining, Jack," she told him wearily.
"It's just that some of the assignments I've drawn have been a little unusual."
"Well, you won't have to worry about going to anybody else's place tonight," he told her. "I'm throwing a little party for some friends up here in the penthouse ... and like I said I want you to make sure you look your best. That black cocktail dress I bought for you will do swell. Nothing underneath, except a pair of real sexy panties. Okay?"
"Of course, darling," Erica said mechanically. She could pretty well imagine what kind of a party it was going to be.
Midway through the evening, Ultra brought Erica over to one of the tables in the club that was reserved for VIP's. Four men were seated at the table. Two of them Erica judged to be about Ultra's age. The other two were much older, one with white hair, the other bald, with graying temples. They were all dignified, important executive types, well-dressed and well-mannered. They even stood up when' Ultra introduced them, which in itself was unusual in the Cock Club. The customary thing for a member to do when he first met her, was to run a hand over her ass, weigh one of her tits, or pull her down onto his lap for a little kiss, or feel.
It made Erica feel a lot easier about the forthcoming party. They lusted for breasts and exquisite legs every time she stretched or leaned over the table to serve them.
At about a quarter-of-three, Ultra told Erica to knock off work and go up to the penshouse to get herself ready for the party. This meant that one of the other girls had to double-up and take over her stations; this didn't add to Erica's popularity with the other chickies.
When she got upstairs, Erica quickly showered and doused herself with the very expensive, exotic perfume that was Ultra's favorite scent. Then she put on her briefest, sheerest panties with a shadow panel crotch that left little to the imagination, her tallest black heels and the cocktail dress that Ultra had suggested.
Looking at herself in the full-length mirror in her room, she saw it was as revealing as a dress could possibly be. When she turned profile, except for a narrow strip of material at her waist, she was entirely naked from her armpits clear down to where the dress ended above her knees.
By the time she brushed out her hair and artfully applied her makeup, the way Big Hilda had shown her, Ultra and his guests had arrived. They were gathered at the bar in the playroom when she made her breathtaking entrance.
What amazed Erica was that she was the only girl present. She and Ultra and the four men she met downstairs in the club were the only ones there. As she came forwaid, at Ultra's request, her luscious tits swinging back and forth unrestrained under her flimsy cocktail gown, the four pairs of eyes at the bar followed her every move. She knew they'd been drinking steadily all evening and they now looked as if it would take very little for them to rape her right there on the spot.
"When will the other girls get here?" Erica asked Ultra as she accepted the glass that one of the other men offered her.
"Girls?" Ultra echoed. "There aren't going to be any other girls. That's how the boys here wanted it. They wouldn't settle for anybody else but you. You ought to be real flattered. It looks like a big night for you in a lot of ways."
Erica looked at the four men and shivered a little, inside. They didn't look at all like the four gentlemen she'd served down in the club. They seemed to have suddenly removed their masks and showed their fangs.
Ultra emptied the glass he was holding and placed it on the bar. Then he turned to his four friends and announced, "If you guys are finished with your drinking for a while, we'll get down to having some fun and games."
They all seconded the motion and hurriedly got rid of their glasses.
Ultra looked at one of the younger men that he called "Angie" and one of the older men named "George". He said, "You two guys played this game before-Hal and Tom haven't." He looked at Erica. "You played it, too, a slightly different version."
Erica wrinkled her brow and tried to figure out what "game" he was talking about, she'd played so many of his bizarre games.
Ultra said, "It's called FOX AND HOUNDS."
"Sounds exciting," put in Tom, the older man who hadn't played the game before.
"It's exciting all right, you can bet your ass on that!" Ultra declared.
George and Angie agreed enthusiastically, their cocks starting to rise inside their trousers as they leered at Erica.
For the benefit of those who hadn't played the game before, Ultra explained the rules. They followed the pattern of the game Ultra played with Erica the first night she came to the penthouse, when he chased her to the playroom and screwed her beside the pool. There was one difference. There would be no escape for her now, no preference as to the way she would be fucked.
She'd be allowed to keep on her dress, then get down on all fours and crawl through the penthouse.
"You can go any place you want, hide anywhere you feel like," Ultra told her. "Only you can't leave the penthouse and you can't lock any doors."
She'd be given a headstart. Then the four men would come after her on their hands and knees, the way Ultra had, like a pack of hounds after a bitch in season. When they caught up with her, the four of them could fuck her any way they wanted. Ultra wasn't going to join in tonight. He said he'd sit this one out.
Before they started, Ultra suggested that his four friends take off their trousers, so they wouldn't ruin them crawling around on their knees. They followed his advice, Angie disrobing entirely.
Looking at the four men and their pricks, Erica shuddered with the thought that before the game had ended, each of them would have left cum inside her. At-the same time, Ultra continued to amaze and shock her. Despite the story he told her about his mother, or his sister, or anyone else, she couldn't fathom how he could feel anything at all toward her and subject her to a gang rape like the one in which she was about to engage.
She knew there was money involved. In fact, Ultra had told her early that she'd come out with a very "pretty penny" when the evening was over. She knew, too, that Ultra was obligated to these men, that he owed them for past favors. But none of those things could explain to her how he could just turn her over to four men like this, for their sexual pleasures. Did he get some distorted thrill out of making her do these things? Was it some kind of a psychological throwback from when he was a child and watched what men did to his mother ... to his sister? Was it some sort of weird retribution?
"Okay," she heard Ultra call out to her. "Get down on the floor." When she didn't move quickly enough he roared. "Goddam it, do as I tell you, or I'll slap one of your fuckin' tits off."
She trembled a little and got down on all fours.
Ultra raised the back of her skirt. In bending over, the silky material of her panties had pulled taut to fit into the crease of her ass and her cunt, baring her buttocks and exposing the hair at each side of her pussy.
Ultra ran a hand under her ass and shoved a finger into her vagina. He looked at his friends and grinned. "Nice, huh? Just wait'll you sink your cocks into her. And if she don't give one hundred per cent, I wanna know about it." He slapped her bare can. "Okay, get goin'. I'll give you a good start before I send the wolves after you."
With her long hair falling before her face like a brown cascade, her huge breasts dangling, swaying inside her dress and her skirt hiked high up her bare thighs, Erica crept quickly out of the playroom and through the apartment. With her heart hammering and her stomach tense she tried to get as far away as she could before the four men came after her.
She went past the door that led into the hallway and to the elevator. If only she dared, she'd open the door, get on the elevator and run away. But she knew how useless that would be. Ultra would only come after her and when he caught her, he'd bring her back and do a lot worse to her than his four friends were going to do. She never forgot the way he beat Big Hilda the day he found them together in her office. She could still hear the woman's screams.
She paused at the door to the huge living room only long enough to take a breath and ease the strain in her arms and legs, then she crawled inside. She sank to her wrists and well above her knees in the soft, deep, rich carpeting. Her eyes swept the room for a place to hide. She decided on the huge divan and scrambled toward it. She got behind it and listened in mute fear.
She could hear her four pursuers laughing and barking as they came like a wolf pack following the scent of her perfume through the hall. She wished now she hadn't saturated herself with the stuff.
The four men were now at the entrance to the room. One of them said, "I'll look in here. The rest of you try the other rooms. First one finds her, sing out!"
Erica peeked around from behind the divan and saw the man who was entering the room, while the others continued on through the hall. He was George, the older man who'd played the game before. His jacket and trousers were off, his collar unbuttoned. He was wearing a pair of plaid shorts and black socks. Like the dog he was pretending to be, he sniffed the legs of the chairs and cocktail table. He even lifted a leg and pretended to piss against one of the chairs, like a dog.
As he came closer to the divan, Erica decided to try to make it behind the long, heavy drapes that hung at the picture window. She lost one of her heels but didn't dare go back to retrieve it.
George, following the aroma of her perfume, crawled behind the divan and discovered her shoe. He looked up and saw the drapes move. He scampered toward them on all fours and threw them aside. He saw Erica cringing there.
"Hey, fellas!" he yelled out gleefully. "Found her! She's here in the living room!"
Erica made a frantic attempt to crawl away. But he grabbed her left thigh with one hand, while the other swept up her skirt. Her polished, bare ass gleamed invitingly, and he sank his teeth in her hot, taut flesh.
She screamed but George was too drunk with booze and passion to pay any attention. He reached up and shoved his two hands through the openings at the sides of her dress and grabbed her dangling tits.
"Oh-terrific," he sighed with the keen satisfaction of finally holding something that he'd drooled over ever since he first saw her. He rolled her breasts in his hands, weighing them, pulling at the nipples. When he let goof her tits, he ripped off her panties, crawled up behind her and pulled her to him. She felt the blistering heat of his cock press against her soft flesh as he worked the head of it between her moist labia. She knew it was pointless to try to fight against him. He'd only hurt her if she did. So she lowered her head to the carpet and, resting on her elbows, let him dig all the way into her and then start to bang against her.
His three companions came bounding into the room on their hands and knees, yelping playfully. As George continued to slam his belly against her buttocks, pushing his cock in and out of her wet hole, the other three came forward. They stripped off her dress and began fondling her breasts, rubbing their slavering cocks against the sides of her legs, her body and face, matting her beautiful long brown hair.
After George shot his load, Angie turned her over on her back and fucked her, while Hal and Tom sucked on her tits. By the time it was Hal's turn, he was so worked up that he refused to get off her until he ejaculated twice. Then as Tom, the oldest member of the group, the man with the white hair, prepared to mount her, Erica closed her legs and whimpered, "Please ... please wait ... I ... I can't take any more ... not for a minute ... please...."
Tom looked down at her and shrugged. Then he crawled up and knelt beside her, so that his throbbing cock waved only inches from her face.
"No reason why you can't blow me while we're waiting," he said and rubbed his dribbly cock over her lips. "C'mon, Baby, suck it."
She slowly parted her lips and let him insert his cock into her mouth. She put to use all the tricks that she'd learned about fellatio, using her tongue, her lips and the suction of her mouth to try to bring him on and get it over with as quickly as she could.
She could have endured the humiliation and degradation she felt, sucking a man off in front of three other men. But the sight of a girl as young and beautiful as Erica with a man's cock in her mouth got Tom's trio of friends going again.
With much less compassion than they had previously shown, the three twisted and turned her body so that the four of them could go to work on her at the same time. George's cock in her cunt ... Angie's in her anus ... Hal's meat sandwiched between her tingling tits. Tom's penis still filling her aching mouth.
"Let's really give her a sweet fuck," George panted as he began to move against her belly. "Let's see if we can all go off at the same time."
Erica murmured around Tom's penis that kept stabbing back and forth in her mouth.
She might as well have saved her breath. They all began to pump against her at the same time with a relentless fury that caused the pressure inside her body to mount, filling her with a stimulation that she couldn't possibly endure. One by one, almost simultaneously, they began to cum-in her cunt ... in her ass ... in her mouth ... and between her breasts ... blowing her mind ... and dropping her into an abyss blacker than night....
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The human body may be worth only 97 cents, it is still a most incredible piece of machinery. If man could come to within even miles of duplicating it, it would far overshadow anything that has ever been produced on earth.
Erica learned that the hard way a long time ago. It was made crystal clear to her again when she awakened late the next afternoon. Aside from a little rawness, a few minor aches and bruises, and a very unpleasant memory, she was little the worse for wear.
After showering and dressing, she went down to the club for an early dinner before any of the members began showing up. It was while she was at dinner that Barbara, one of the chickies at the club, came over to the table where Erica was sitting alone. Barbara told Erica that when she was finished dinner, there was something she'd like her to see in the cloak room.
Barbara was a tall, willowy blond, one of the girls who hadn't been very friendly with Erica in the months that Erica had been working at the Cock Club. The way Erica heard it, Barbara had been occupying the place of honor in Ultra's bed for several months before she came along. Since that time, Barbara hadn't once been invited upstairs to the penthouse.
Erica took the invitation to mean that this was the tall blond's way of trying to patch up their difference; maybe be a good sport and see if they couldn't become friends. Because it wasn't very pleasant sharing the same dressing room with girls who scarcely even talked to her, she accepted.
Erica hurried through her meal and went with Barbara to the cloak room. When Barbara opened the door, it was dark inside. But the moment they entered and Barbara closed the door behind them, the beam of a flashlight splashed in her face.
Fear tapped at Erica's brain and she started to turn to open the door. But somebody grabbed her from behind and pinioned her arms. The next moment she was on the floor. She could make out three faces hovering above her on the edge of the conical beam of the flashlight that was still shining down on her. She could see Barbara above her head, pinning her shoulders to the floor. Madea, a dark skinned girl, with shiny, jet black hair and eyes as black and unblinking as a cobra's, was standing over her. The third girl, named Jill, had been around the club for quite a while.
"Why-why did you ask me to come here?" Erica stammered, fearfully.
"I told you-we wanted to show you something," Barbara replied with quiet menace.
Erica swallowed. "Show me what?"
"What we do to big-tit bitches who get too ambitious," Barbara spit at her.
"I don't know what you mean?" Erica trembled.
"Since you started turning up your ass for Jack Ultra, nobody else has come even close to being invited to bed with him," Barbara explained unpleasantly. "Not that anybody gives two damns about him. He's nothing so great. But nobody's made a stinkin' dime off him since you stuck your cunt in his door."
"I'm-I'm sorry-I didn't realize," Erica tried to explain.
"Oh, you're going to be a lot sorrier before you leave here," Barbara promised in a voice that chilled Erica's blood.
"Barbara isn't the only one's felt the pinch," Madea put in. "We all used to make out pretty good taking care of his friends. Oh, we still get our calls. We still service some of the members. But we don't get any more of the live ones. Anybody pays any real money-they go to you. Like that mink coat you're sportin."
"And that party last night with his four friends," Barbara tacked on. "Ordinarily one of us would've been picked to go up there to entertain. But not any more. You get first call. Not any of us."
"Believe me, I didn't want any of those things," Erica tried to explain to them, desperately. "I'll gladly give them up if you want them."
"Maybe yes, maybe no," Madea said. "We're going to make sure."
"You're damn right we are," Barbara agreed and as she spoke, she reached down and ripped open the top of Erica's dress. Erica, as usual, wasn't wearing any bra and her big breasts were entirely exposed. Barbara grabbed one of them in her right hand, while she continued to hold the girl's shoulders against the floor with the other. She squeezed the tit cruelly until Erica almost fainted from the pain. "Get the rest of her things off."
Madea and the short haired girl named Jill removed Erica's skirt and tore off her panties. Then they pulled apart her legs and knelt between them and made obscene remarks about her vulva.
"She's got a bush all right," Madea commented and ran a hand down between Erica's legs. "She must have one of those cunts that's always wet, too."
Barbara craned to have a look. "It doesn't look so great to me. I don't know why anybody should want to get into it anymore than in anybody else's."
Madea was still running her hand over Erica's moist labia. "You think we ought to let her have an orgasm?"
Barbara shrugged. "Why not? It'll be the last one she'll have for a hell of a long time."
Erica was shaking visibly with fear. "What do you mean?"
Nobody answered her as Madea hooked a finger into Erica's cunt and began rubbing over her clitoris.
"Let me, too," Jill said and moved up beside Madea so she could wedge a finger into the flesh of Erica's cunt and help masturbate her. Even though she fought desperately against it, Erica couldn't prevent the orgasm they brought her. An intense one that left her weak and panting.
Madea's face was almost maniacal as she drew her hand back from Erica's cunt and said to the girl who was still in the throes of her climax, "Maybe you didn't know. But back in Arabia, my father had a harem. Twelve wives, including my mother. And you know what happened back there when one wife got too ambitious and tried to become my father's favorite?"
From inside her blouse, Madea withdrew what looked like a stilletto, its sharp, thin blade glittering menacingly in the beam of the flashlight. "The other wives would take this ambitious wife and they d perform a very simple operation on her. They'd cut away her perineum. You know what the perineum is? That's the bridge between the vagina and the anus. Cut that away and you've got one great big opening. Good for making out with an elephant maybe-but no longer any good for any man." With Jill's help, she spread Erica's legs apart again as far as they'd go. "That's what we're going to do to you...."
"No!" Erica screamed hysterically, her face distorted with terror, her body drenched with perspiration. "No ... please ... I'll do anything you say-I promise! Please-don't do that to me!"
The door flew open. A voice cried out, "What the hell is going on in here?"
Erica, even in her hysteria, recognized the voice. It was Big Hilda.
The woman's hand found the switch, clicked it on and flooded the tiny cloakroom with light. She stood in the open doorway and looked in horror at Erica stretched out naked on her back on the floor with the three chalk-faced girls hovering over her. Without Big Hilda seeing it, Madea buried the knife back inside her blouse.
"Somebody told me there was something going on in here!" Big Hilda thundered in a powerful voice that matched her huge stature. "Now what's going on here?"
"We-we were just talking to her," Barbara said tensely.
"Since when do you rip off a girl's clothes and lay her on the floor to talk to her?" Big Hilda demanded. She came forward and as the three girls stepped aside, helped Erica to her feet. "Now what were they doing to you?"
Erica looked at the three girls. Whether they actually intended to go through with the "operation," or whether they were just trying to throw a good scare into her, she didn't know. But from the frightened looks on their faces, she guessed they never would have really put the knife to her. It would have been foolish if they had. Because they never could have gotten away with it. Even if she hadn't turned them in, somebody would have found out. Erica gave them the benefit of the doubt. As she picked up the remnants of her clothes and covered herself with them as best she could, she said to Hilda. "Like they said-they were just talking."
"Look, you don't have to be afraid," Hilda rumbled. "You don't have to hide anything. If they meant to harm you, just you say so and the three of them will be canned, right now."
Erica shot a quick glance at the three girls, then returned her gaze to Hilda. "Why should I hide anything?" she asked. "I admit it was a rather unusual way to hold a conversation. But-they said they wanted to see if I had anything they didn't have."
Hilda met Erica's eyes for a long moment, unblinkingly. It was clear that she knew Erica wasn't telling the truth. But she apparently remembered how Erica had tried to come to her defense against Ultra and saw the uselessness of trying to make Erica talk. She sighed resignedly. "Okay, okay-if that's how you want it-there's nothing I can do to help you." She turned away from Erica and barked at the three other girls like a sergeant. "The next time I catch any of you three pulling any rough stuff, I'm turning you over to Mr. Ultra. Y'hear me? I'm pretty damn sure I don't have to tell you what he'll do to you. Now get the hell to the dressing room and get your costumes on! It's getting late." She looked at Erica and softened her voice a little. "That means you, too." Then as they all began to file out of the cloak room, she added to Erica, "I still think you're a damn fool for not telling me the truth about those three bitches."
Erica made no comment. But when she got to the dressing room, the reception she received was a hell of a lot different than she'd ever got before. For the first time since she had donned a chickie costume, the other girls went out of their way to talk to her. She had every reason in the world for turning them in, but she didn't and as a reward, she finally was accepted by the entire group.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Erica had never entered a beauty contest in her life. But Ultra insisted that she enter the MISS STRIP contest that all the theaters, clubs and restaurants were sponsoring along Hollywood's fabulous Sunset Strip where the Cock Club was located. Ultra told her if she won the contest and became MISS STRIP, it would give the club a lot of good publicity because all the news media, including radio and TV were going to give it a lot of coverage.
"It will also make you Number One here in town," he said. "Maybe even get you a movie contract and a chance to appear on all the TV talk shows."
So Erica had no other choice than to parade out onto the stage with the rest of the contestants in a costume that would have made the cast of HAIR and OH, CALCUTTA look overdressed. There were an awful lot of howls of protest from the other contestants. But the appreciative whistles from the audience drowned them out in the ears of the judges and when the final count was in, Erica wore the crown on her head and a ribbon that covered her left tit and read: "MISS STRIP 71".
Of course, Erica never would have won the title, if it hadn't been for the help of Big Hilda who spent hours making her up.
As Ultra told her, Erica and the club got reams of free publicity. Every trade paper in town carried the story and those that ran pictures featured her in the costume that won her the title. She appeared on the Griffin and Carson shows.
Ultra, of course, was very proud of her. But he didn't let it go to her head. Of course, he continued to screw her regularly, never less than two times a night and again in the morning whenever he awakened with a lazy hardon. What he liked her to do at these early A.M. sessions, before he was completely awake, was put on a pair of long, black kid gloves that reached almost up to her armpits and kneel beside him stark naked. Then he'd have her slide one hand under his balls while she rubbed the gloved palm of the other hand gently over his belly. Occasionally some of his public hairs would become ensnared around the gloves' tiny pearl buttons, but the pain that resulted was deliciously exciting. Before starting to work on him, Erica always saturated the gloves with the heady perfume that he liked so much, so that as she played with him, the sensuous scent of the perfume would waft its way to his nostrils and cause him added, delightful sensations.
Gently, Erica would let the wrinkled scrotum that encased his heavy balls slip from her fingers and slide her two hands up to grasp his rigid cock at its base. Slowly she'd work her hands upward, squeezing tenderly until the clear liquid ran from the head and dribbled down his swollen shaft onto her gloved fingers. Then she'd begin to move her fingers gently up and down, the gloves, slippery with his juice, sliding over his throbbing cock like a slick cunt.
She'd keep jerking him with deliberate slowness with her two hands, once in a while rubbing her fingers over his leaking head, wetting her gloves to make them even more slippery.
So many times, she wanted to lean into him, open her mouth and suck on his prick. But she knew that he always wanted her to do it this way when he first awakened. What a pity! When the time grew near, she'd just place a clean towel across his hairy belly and keep on stroking him, occasionally tickling his balls until the head bulged almost and the cum began spurting out of him in long jets. Then, she'd slide her hand down to the base of his cock and hold him that way, as she watched the cum shoot out with measured beats and fall back onto the towel.
As his cock began to wilt, he'd lie there for several seconds until its hardness was completely gone. Then with the inconsistency that marked his character, he'd sit up and clout her alongside the head and send her sprawling across the foot of the bed and growl, disgustedly, "What the fuck did you do that for? Wasting a perfectly good load."
Erica would just lie there and stare up at him, blankly. If she lived with him for the rest of her life, she'd never be able to understand him.
It was the Wednesday night, following the Saturday, that Erica became MISS STRIP '71, that Ultra delivered the clincher that would deflate any and all illusions of success that she might have been tempted to entertain.
It happened at another of his parties. Only this one was far different from all the others.
The Cock Club was divided into two parts. The main room was where the regular members held court nightly, while in the rear of the place was a smaller banquet hall reserved for private parties and special occasions.
Tonight, Ultra had the smaller hall reserved for his own exclusive group. Big money people from around the country as well as from several foreign countries convened to listen to a plan that he intended to explain to them-plan to extend his chain of Cock Clubs in several locations, in capital cities around the world-London, Paris, West Berlin, Copenhagen as well as in Tokyo and Hong Kong. This plan, of course, would take a considerable amount of money and since many of the people he invited to his party had been backers in other Cock Clubs that he'd opened, he hoped to get the necessary financing from them.
All these details meant little to Erica. All she knew was that she and five of the other most popular were reassigned from the main dining room to Ultra's special party. When girls worked a private party, even when there were women guests present, they could usually look forward to not as much work, perhaps a little more intimacy than most of them were used to, and larger tips.
And that's how it was during the first half of the evening, when Ultra sprang his plan for expansion on his guests and received a very enthusiastic reaction. Then, with a lot more alcohol in his system than he usually consumed, and fired by the approval of his plan, he called over Erica who was serving at the other end of the long, crowded banquet table that he headed. He forced her to get up on the table so that he could introduce her as the winner of the MISS STRIP contest. Then he had her take off her top and exhibit her magnificent breasts.
At this stage of her life, after all the experiences she'd gone through, Erica was no more embarrassed about showing off her naked body than any hardened stripper might be. If anything, it still gave her a little jolt of pride and satisfaction to have people gape at her breasts. But Ultra's coup de grace to her ego was yet to come.
It wasn't until one of the male guests at the table, reached up and helped Erica down to the floor and had himself a good feel of her big, naked breasts in the bargain, that Ultra pulled her down onto his lap possessively. He made a big thing out of kissing her nipples, making every guy who was watching, slaver over his chin with envy. Erica could see that Ultra was even drunker than she had imagined. What surprised her even more, however, was when he called over Liv, who was waiting on another table. The little Norwegian, had taken Ultra's advice and given Erica a wide berth ever since the night he'd caught the two of them going down on each other.
With Liv standing beside his chair so that he could put a hand on her cute little buttocks and Erica straddling his thighs in such a way that she could feel his erection against her labia, Ultra told those seated at his table that he had a surprise for them. Knowing Ultra as she did, Erica thought at first that as drunk as he was, he might want her and Liv to put on a lesbian act. However, he had an entirely different idea in mind.
"I don't know how many of you know it but over in China, children used to have an early introduction to sex," he began. "Among the rich families over there, it was customary when entertaining guests, to keep kids under the table, and while the guests were eating, these kids would masturbate them. Like burping in some countries to show the appreciation of a meal, etiquette was expected of a guest when a kid masturbated them. When they climaxed it meant the kid had done a good job. It also showed the host's hospitality by having kids that were so proficient."
There were a few uneasy glances exchanged at the table, especially by the ladies present.
"Of course, I don't go for kids doing things like that," Ultra went on. "That would be contributing to the immorality of minors. That wouldn't be right. But that's no damn reason to stop me from being a good host-especially when I got a couple of sexy broads to do the honors."
He looked from Erica to Liv. Erica died a little. Liv paled and shivered.
With an arm around her, Ultra bounced one of Erica's breast playfully in his hand and said, "Erica here can give a blow job like nobody else in the world."
Erica wished that at that instant, the floor would open up and swallow her. It was a new low in humiliation for her.
Ultra's gaze swept the faces of the women seated before him at the table and he grinned. "Don't worry, you ladies aren't going to be left out of it," he told them, as he gave the blond girl's bottom an affectionate pat. "Liv here is an experienced lesbo. Shell take care of all of you, one at a time. Right, honey?"
Liv's face was as ashen as her hair, her eyes filled with shame. But she knew better than to dispute what Ultra suggested. So she just wagged her blond head, mechanically.
"Okay," Ultra declared as he edged Erica off his lap and gave the two girls a little slap on their asses. "Let's get under the table and go to work." He reached a pile of napkins from the server behind him and divided them between the two girls. "You're gonna need these," he said. Then his eyes swept the embarrassed faces before him and he added, "Of course, if any of you ladies or gentlemen don't care to share my hospitality, you don't have to stay. Just get up and we'll have your soup served at another table."
Even though the uneasy, self-conscious looks may have continued, nobody at the table made a move to get up, as Erica and Liv climbed, resignedly, under the table.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was rather dark under the table, but not too dark for Erica and Liv to see the eighteen pairs of legs staring back at them, men and women mixed in together. The men were all wearing dress trousers and shiny black shoes and there wasn't one of them who didn't have an erection. The women were different. Their legs came in all shapes and sizes; some fat, some skinny and a couple that were very nicely shaped. They all wore different kinds of hose, too. Most of the women had on short gowns, so that their thighs were bared, some above the tops of their nylons. All of them however, were sitting with their legs self-consciously clenched tightly together.
As usual, Erica didn't dally. She was aware of what they had to do if they wanted to continue holding down their lucrative jobs as chickies. So, as distasteful and degrading as it might be, Erica decided the sooner she got started, the quicker it would be over.
Taking one of the napkins and placing the rest of her pile on the floor, Erica crawled toward the head of the table and selected the man seated next to Ultra. She knew that Ultra didn't want her to do him. Plenty of time for that when they got upstairs to the penthouse.
Erica tried not to remember what the man before whom she was kneeling looked like. She didn't want to remember what any of the men at the table looked like. She wanted to keep it on a strictly impersonal basis. It would be better that way.
At the same time, she was conscientious enough to want to do a good job, the kind of a job that she knew Ultra would be proud of. So she ran her hands lightly along the insides of her first subject's thighs. She stroked his cock outside his trousers a few times to make him feel good, before unzipping his fly, reaching inside and bringing his cock out.
From what she could determine, he had an average prick, hard as concrete, with a distinct male odor. She blew lightly on the tip of it and felt his thighs jump as she took it in her mouth and sucked on it. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of an expression he had on his face, whether he was giving any indication that he was the one being fellated under the table, or successfully maintaining his compusre by going right on eating. She'd bet Ultra could tell. Especially when the man's body gave a little jerk and she quickly covered his erupting penis with the napkin.
When he was done, she wiped him clean and carefully tucked his cock back into his trousers. As she pulled back and moved toward subject number two, she saw Liv across the way, with her blond head w-edged between a pair of widespread nylon legs, her pretty face buried in the vagina that the legs separated. For all her embarrassment, by the sounds she was making and enthusiasm with which her head was bobbing, Liv was thoroughly enjoying her assignment; having herself a real smorgasbord of cunt.
From one male guest to another, Erica went under the table. Some of the men tried to hold back and enjoy the pleasant sensation that her mouth and tongue were bringing them as long as possible, others were very quick. One poor guy, with an abnormally small penis, got so excited just thinking about it, he shot his load before she even got to him.
By actual count, Erica reduced nine cocks from menacing ramrods to lifeless wrinkles of flesh and she had the nine soiled napkins to prove it. She would have had ten if it hadn't been for the guy who went off prematurely.
Meantime, Liv took care of seven women, bringing each of them at least one orgasm. She, too, had telltale napkins to prove it. Napkins that she tucked under each woman's buttocks before she went to work on them so their expensive gowns wouldn't get stained with their vaginal drool.
In spite of the fact that Erica had nine men to take care of, to Liv's seven women, the men were much quicker and Erica was finished first. She waited under the table for Liv to get done. As she withdrew her face from the last cunt, Liv, wiping her mouth in the napkin that she'd just pulled from under the woman's rump, turned slowly to face Erica. Liv's limpid, blue eyes were hot, her normally pale face flushed and her now naked breasts were heaving spasmodically.
"Everybody had their relief-except us," Liv breathed heavily, as she reached out and placed a hand on Erica's naked thigh.
"I know," Erica murmured. She wasn't exactly unmoved herself by the ordeal she'd just gone through and the way Liv's hand was moving in circles on her thigh wasn't making it any easier for her.
"You never did get to finish me that night in the penthouse," Liv reminded her as she moved a little closer and put her hand on the shadow panel crotch of Erica's pants, causing Erica an intake of breath. "It wouldn't take very long-I'm hot as a pistol."
"It would be taking a terribly big chance," Erica whispered, beginning to breathe as heavily as Liv.
Liv leaned forward and put her wet, hot mouth to Erica's right breast and Erica felt the nipple harden against the girl's tongue. I
"Nobody'd even know whether or not we've finished with everybody," Liv rationalized and she ran a hand along the waistband of Erica's panties to the hidden zipper at the side.
"If Jack Ultra ever found out...."
"He couldn't ... we won't be that long ... this is the safest place in the world," Liv persisted as she opened the zipper of-Erica's panties and began to work them down over her hips. "Please, darling ... I want you ... I'm burning up...."
Erica looked back over her shoulder to Ultra's legs. He hadn't moved yet. She took a deep breath of resignation and whispered, "Okay, get your bottoms off ... I'll finish taking off mine...."
Liv needed no second invitation. Her pants were off in a jiffy and she told Erica to lie down. When Erica was stretched on the hardwood floor, Liv climbed atop her in the inverted position that Big Hilda assumed that day in the office.
As she felt Liv's active tongue lick over her cunt, Erica closed her eyes and let herself drift away into a state of beautiful physical pleasure, depending on her sense of touch and smell to bring her own mouth to Liv's precious treasure. Ignoring all speculation whether what they were doing was right or wrong, Erica applied herself to the business of kissing Liv's cunt, slowly closing her mind to all else.
Her tongue slipped out and its tip inched slowly into the heat of Liv's gaping vagina. Steadily, it pushed its way inward, moving from side to side, stretching as far as it could reach into the blond girl's moist hole. Her pursed lips worked their way deeper inside to feast on the wet flesh and the savory softness of Liv's marvelous young cunt.
All the while, the blond girl's mouth and tongue were doing fantastic things to Erica's cunt until Erica's hips began to gyrate and she began to tense and untense her loins in an effort to hurry along her climax. Furiously now, they licked and sucked and rubbed their faces into each other's cunts as they felt themselves racing toward the finish.
Now Erica felt Liv's middle finger wiggling inside her ass. It felt so good that she reached up and did the same thing to Liv. It was all Liv needed to push her over the edge. Liv moaned ever so softly as her whole body stiffened and then Erica could feel the other girl's clitoris thumping out her orgasm against her tongue.
Seconds later, Erica could feel what began as an overwhelming tickling far back in her belly, quickly forging its way forward to burst into a blinding orgasm. Its intensity frightened Erica for a moment. She couldn't remember ever experiencing so prolonged and furious a climax. It was even more violent than the one Hilda had caused her, or Liv herself had brought that night on Ultra's bed.
But it wasn't merely the physical sensation of cuming that filled Erica with such fear. She didn't know whether she could control the emotions that raged inside her, whether in her ecstatic delirium she'd scream out and let Ultra and the others know exactly what was happening to her under the table.
With effort, she managed to keep a tight rein on her passion as she continued to lie there on her back, her body heaving as great apasms shook her from head to toe. Finally she was aware that Liv had crept up beside her to put her lips to her own and kiss her, very tenderly.
"Easy, does it lover," Liv whispered, as she gently stroked Erica's hair, quieting her. "Are you always so intense?"
Erica couldn't answer. Her climax was diminishing-but she was still too weak to put on her pants and even try to get up.
It wasn't until she heard Liv whisper, "We'd better not stay under here too long, darling. The way Mr. Ultra's crossing and recrossing his legs, he's starting to get a little impatient."
The words worked like magic. They were all that were needed to make Erica snap out of it, sit up and put on her panties. A few moments later they were crawling out from under the table.
Erica knew she should have felt ashamed and embarrassed because of what she had done to the men seated at the table. But she didn't. Instead she felt a strange satisfaction, knowing what she and Liv had pulled off on Ultra-the one thing he didn't want her to do-right under his cock.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was the Saturday night following the party when Erica and Liv did their stint under the table. Jack Ultra was away. He never liked to be absent from his flagship on Saturday, because it was always the biggest night in the week. But the wheels had already started to turn on his new project and he had to fly to New York to iron out a few bugs that were disturbing one of his principal investors.
Erica was still basking in the limelight of her MISS STRIP '71 title. She was still doing her nightly chores, waiting on tables, of course. But everybody who came through the doors wanted to get a look at her.
It must have been about one o'clock when one of the other chickies sidled up to her and whispered, "Y'know who just came in? Wayne Kendall."
Anybody who ever read a fan magazine, turned to the theatrical section of their daily newspaper, dialed in the late show, or went to a movie house or a drive-in, knew who Wayne Kendall was. A few years ago, they were whispering his name as the screen's newest male sex symbol, and for a while it looked like maybe he was going to live up to all this advance publicity. But, a few clinkers buried him under the pile and it wasn't until just recently that one of the big studios pulled him out from under the debris, dusted him off and put him in a glorified sex movie, that cost quite a few bucks to produce.
Again it looked like Wayne Kendall was on his way, until somebody spread the rumor that the cock he exhibited in the new movie was really a dildo. In addition, these ugly tongues cast very nasty reflections on Mr. Kendall's virility and manhood. They said that instead of him getting into all the girls the way it was shown in the movie, every guy on the set was getting into him. Wayne Kendall's stock took a dive and by the way the crowds stayed away from his new movie, it looked like the theaters where it was playing, were advertising some kind of contagious disease.
In spite of all this, the moment Erica heard that he was in the Cock Club that Saturday night, her heart began fluttering, as did the hearts of all the other chickies and female customers. It didn't make one damn bit of difference whether or not he had any genitals, they just wanted a look at him, even if they wouldn't pay a stinking dime to see his latest movie.
Wayne Kendall was not a member of the Cock Club.
He was there as a guest of Benny Green who was a member. Benny was the number one public relations man for TERRIFIC PRODUCTIONS, the studio that produced Kendall's current clambake. Usually Benny could be depended upon to come up with some kind of a brainstorm that would breathe life even into a dead horse. But this time Benny was stymied. He hadn't even been able to down the lid on the rumors. But he'd still be in there swinging, right up until the time they threw the last shovelful of dirt on the studio's latest celluloid corpse.
Erica was so excited when Big Hilda, who was acting chief during Ultra's absense, told her that Wayne Kendall had requested she wait on his table, she began to perspire all over. She was even more thrilled by the way Kendall's eyes swept over her as she stood beside the table and took their orders for a couple of vodka and tonics. It took a hell of a lot these days for anybody to make her nipples stand out just because they were being watched. But Kendall did it. Kendall also caused her an uncomfortable wetness between her tingling loins.
In her whole life, Erica never before asked anyone for their autograph-and plenty of big names had visited the Cock Club during her stay there. However, she asked Kendall and her hands actually shook as she held her pad out for him to sign.
He looked up at her and flashed the toothy smile that the critics once predicted would melt all around the world. He took the pad and pen and scrawled his name all across the page. Then, still looking at her, he handed the pad and pen back to her and said, "Better still, darling, I'd like to leave my mark on you."
Erica thought she had long since passed the point where she could be flustered and blush. But that's what happened, and her pants got so wet she knew she'd have to go into the dressing room if she didn't hurry and get away from his table.
Before the night was over, according to the receipts on her order pad, she'd served Kendall and friend, ten drinks, not including the ones they bought for her. Ordinarily, the bartender would see that her drinks were "downs." But both the actor and Benny Green had been around the bistros too long to fall for that gag and pay for colored water instead of booze. So each time that Erica brought them a drink, Kendall or Benny would change glasses with her and see to it that she stood right there at the table and drank it down with them.
By three A.M, Erica was so drunk that she could barely make it to the dressing room to change clothes.
Big Hilda helped Erica get out of her chickie costume and into a street dress and said, "You better get right upstairs to the penthouse and into bed, Honey, and we won't say anything to Mr. Ultra about this. He doesn't like his girls to get as fried as you are, not on the job."
"You're a pal," Erica slobbered over Hilda as she kissed her on the mouth. "You're a real pal ... if I wasn't so drunk, Hilda ... I'd invite you upstairs and take on on...." Another kiss. "I'm so romantic tonight...."
By the way Hilda looked at her, it was clear that she'd like nothing better than to go upstairs with Erica. But that last beating that Ultra gave her in her office was still too vivid in her mind. So she just returned Erica's kiss and waited there in the dressing room while Erica made her way through the almost deserted club toward the elevator.
She got about halfway when she saw two figures suddenly materialize out of the shadows in the club and loom before her. Erica was startled for a moment, then she recognized them to be Kendall and his friend, Benny.
The vodka freed her of all inhibitions. She stepped up close to Kendall, almost touching his thighs with her own and said, "You're so beautiful ... so big and very beautiful...."
He looked down at her breasts. "You're big and very beautiful yourself."
The next moment she was in his arms and he was kissing her, pressing her body to his.
Erica never quite remembered how it happened. But the next thing she was conscious of was being on the back seat of a car, with the cool night breeze blowing in through the window, reviving her. It took her several minutes before she could bring her thoughts or her vision into sharp focus. Then she saw that Wayne Kendall was seated beside her on the back seat, with his arm around her, holding her close to him. Benny Green was up front, driving. She wasn't being abducted, or kidnapped, or anything like that. Vaguely she remembered them asking her to go with them and with the heat of Kendall's kiss turning her whole body to fire, she had been only too anxious to comply.
Even now, even though she had not the faintest idea where they were heading, she was thrilled just to be here in his arms, so close to him.
"You awake, darling?" he whispered.
"Um huh," she replied. Even the hammering in her head seemed to lessen when he put his mouth to hers and kissed her-the way she always imagined he'd kiss when she used to see him in some old movie, or holding a girl in his arms in a fan magazine. It was like a fantastic dream until she was aware of his hand on her naked thigh, moving upward under her short skirt. Hilda hadn't bothered to get her to put on her stockings or her garter belt when she helped dress her; she'd thought Erica was going right upstairs to the penthouse.
Maybe it was the vodka, or maybe it was the realization that in spite of the ugly rumors, he was man, but Erica was sure that no hand, male or female, had ever excited her the way his hand did.
Erica began to move her legs and squirm about on the seat as she felt Kendall's knowledgeable fingers go beneath her panties and into the wet, open lips of her cunt. She threw her arms around his neck, squashing her breasts against his chest as she kissed him open mouthed, rubbing her heated cunt against his strong fingers. She couldn't conceive whatever possessed her at such a moment to glance out the windows and see nothing but an endless expanse of desert flashing by on both sides of the car. She drew back from him at once and asked, unsteadily, "Where-where are you taking me?"
"I told you when we first got into the car, darling," he whispered. "We're going to Vegas."
"Las Vegas?" she echoed. "I don't remember you telling me."
He held his hand still between her legs and looked down at her disappointedly. "You haven't changed your mind?"
She frowned quizzically. "Changed my mind about what?"
"Getting married."
Erica gulped. "Married? But-but you don't know anything about me."
He smiled disarmingly. "I didn't know anything very much about my first four wives, either-except that I was in love with them when I married them. Same as I'm in love with you. It happens with me very easily, darling. I see a girl's photo-I become interested in her-and if when I see her in person, she measures up-well, I'm in love with her. It's as simple as that. Isn't that right, Benny?"
Benny wagged his head. "That's how it always happens." He glanced back over his shoulder for an instant to pose a question to Erica. "So are the nuptials still on? Do we keep driving for Vegas?"
Erica looked blankly at Benny for a moment, then she turned to Kendall seated beside her and she couldn't contain herself. Her joy bubbled over and she cried out, "Oh, darling-of course-the wedding's on. Oh, drive fast, Mr. Green ... drive very fast...."
Benny discreetly returned his gaze to the roadway ahead and even tilted down the rearview mirror so he wouldn't be tempted to peek at them. Because what was about to happen on the back seat was not for any eyes except those of the participants.
"Would you rather wait until we get to a hotel?" he asked her, considerately, as he pulled her panties almost to her knees so that his hand would have better access to her cunt.
"That'll take so long," she said. "I mean-there'll be all the arrangements to make ... and then the ceremony ... and we can't just let Mr. Green leave without some kind of a little wedding dinner or maybe breakfast with him ... and then the business of checking into the hotel ... and ... and all...."
"I quite agree," Kendall told her as he completed the task of removing her panties. Then he opened the zipper at the back of her dress and worked it down off he shoulders so that he could kiss and nurse her breasts while he opened his fly and took out his cock.
It was one of the few times that Erica wasn't aggressive. She let him take the initiative. It wasn't her intention to compare sizes. She didn't care whether he was bigger or smaller than any other man she had ever known. But after Ultra's and Larry's and all the other big pricks that her cunt had entertained, she couldn't help but admit to herself that Kendall was terribly little as he inserted it between her wet cunt lips and pushed into her wet vestibule. Even for a midget, he would have been small. But for a man as big as he was, a man with his physique, he was almost ludicrously tiny. Still, she'd heard many times that if a woman truly loved a man, the size of his penis should make no difference. If she was smart, she'd adjust to his smallness and learn to get maximum satisfaction out of it. After all, it wasn't necessary for a man's cock to puncture a woman's womb or tickle her kidneys or lungs every time he fucked her. All he had to be able to do was rub the corona over her clitoris. That's where the action is! And certainly Kendall was capable of doing that. In fact, he was doing it right this minute, while she lifted her middle an( rubbed her hairy cunt against the fur at the base of his cock.
Whether it was because of all the booze he'd consumed, or because he wasn't able to adjust to her and his penis was lost in her cunt, they had almost completed their trip across the desert and could see the lights o Vegas in the distance, before he ejaculated. Whatever he might have lacked in size, he made up for in duration o cum. She clenched her thighs together, trapping and treasuring every drop of seed that he'd left in her belly.
Erica had no idea where all the people came from. But when they pulled up to the LITTLE CHAPEL OF HEARTS AND FLOWERS on the main stem in Vegas, where they were to be wed, there was a mob waiting for them on the sidewalk, even at the early morning hour. As the flashlight bulbs began to pop and a TV camera was wheeled into place to record this moment on tape, Kendall told her that the crowd was mostly made up of reporters and news cameramen with a sprinkling of fans mixed in.
After a nightmare of questions and shoving and pushing and flashbulbs going off in her face, Erica, Kendall and Benny elbowed their way into the chapel. She was surprised to see that everything was ready for them, even their marriage license, a bouquet of orange blossoms for her and a boutonniere for Kendall. All they had to do was sign a few papers and the ceremony was underway.
"Benny called ahead and arranged everything," Kendall whispered as he stood beside her at the altar, making sure that his "good profile" was turned so that the cameras could pick it up. "Hope you don't mind?"
"Of course, I don't mind, darling," she told him, hugging her breasts against his strong arm.
After the knot was tied, the nightmare resumed when they came out of the chapel. There was another reception awaiting them at their hotel, where Benny had reservations.
A small group of Kendall's show business friends who were playing Vegas, came to the wedding breakfast to offer their congratulations and get a load of the new bride, with the fantastic figure that won her the title of MISS STRIP '71. Then after a few more drinks, Erica and Kendall made it to their hotel room, with Benny Green's felicitations ringing in their ears.
Erica went into the John and had herself a shower and prepared herself for a big wedding night with her new husband. But when she came out, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her middle, since she had no nightie to put on, she found Kendall sprawled across the bed, still wearing all his clothes, and sound asleep. She tried to awaken him but he was sleeping, the sleep of the drunk. So she began to undress him.
When all his clothes were off, she got onto the bed beside him and lifted his penis. It was a cute little thing that didn't vary much in size whether it was hard or soft. Right now it was very soft. She had often wondered what exactly would happen to a man's cock if he were played with while he was asleep. Would it awaken him, or would he enjoy some kind of sensation in his sleep?
Since he was now her husband she felt she had every right to see for herself. So she picked up his little cock and she held it in the palm of her hand. She jiggled it a few seconds. Then she took it in her fingers and began to stroke it. Nothing happened. So she placed her head on his belly and kissed it a few times and enclosed him with her lips.
Without the slightest difficulty, she could get his entire shaft in her mouth. She rolled the limp organ back and forth on her tongue, hoping to detect a spark. Then she began to suck on him as she might suck on a piece of soft candy. She had no misgivings about what she was doing, because after all, this was her wedding night and no bride should be denied the pleasures that were her due.
She sucked on his prick until her jaws got tired. But it was wasted effort. His cock was just as limp and lifeless when she finished, as when she first began. So she let it slip down between his legs, turned over and went to sleep-hoping maybe tomorrow she'd have more success with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
In the morning, Kendall awoke first. The sound of him showering in the adjoining bathroom aroused Erica. It took her a long time for her to figure out exactly where she was and to try to remember all the things that happened to her last night. At first, she had a difficult time making herself believe what had happened. But then, she saw Kendall's jacket over the back of the chair where she'd draped it last night ... his shirt and trousers folded neatly nearby.
She ran her fingers through her long, brown hair and then stretched luxuriously as she kept repeating her new name, over and over, aloud: "Mrs. Wayne Kendall ... Erica Kendall...."
She liked the sound, the way it rolled off her tongue.
Then the bathroom door opened and she turned her head to see him standing there on the threshold. He was wearing bright yellow shorts and nothing else. The blood began to pound in her veins and she felt giddy. Not only because he had such a beautiful body, but if the protrusion in the front of his shorts meant anything, he had a magnificent erection!
It looked to be at least two, maybe three times as big as the cock that swam around in her cunt last night!
"Good morning, darling!" she greeted him, cheerily.
"Good morning, my darling wife!" he responded in his deep, familiar, resonant voice, as he came toward the bed, rubbing his hair dry in a bath towel. "Sleep well?"
"Like a baby," she told him. To herself she kept saying, His wife! Wayne Kendall's wife! She tingled all over. How could any girl be so lucky, have so very much?"
He sat beside her on the bed, tossed aside the towel and leaned over her to follow-up his "good morning" with a kiss. The instant his lips touched hers, her arms snaked around his neck and she pulled him down on top of her, the weight of his huge frame crushing her breasts flat. She wormed her tongue into his mouth and sought out his tongue in passionate play. For an added thrill she reached down and grasped his huge prick through the yellow material of his shorts. It was so hard, so wonderfully, wonderfully big!
Without stopping to disentangle himself from her arms, Kendall brushed down the sheet from her body and then drew back slightly to admire her gorgeous breasts, her luxurious brown bush. "As I told you last night, my darling, you're very beautiful. I'm a very lucky man to have such a beautiful wife."
"I'm the one who's lucky," she whispered as her breathing grew audible and she stretched her legs tautly under his gaze. Then, as he continued to look down at her, she slowly parted her thighs so that he might view her damp, pink cunt and the wet hair that protected it.
His mouth dived to her cunt and she swooned as his tongue raced over her moist flesh, his lips kissing the open length of her cunt until she began to moan and squirm.
"Now you, darling," she panted as he finally drew back from her and she sat up, facing him. "Let me kiss you down there now. Let me suck on your beautiful, big cock."
"It isn't necessary."
"But I want to. I really want to. I-I sucked on it last night when you were asleep," she confessed. "I wanted to bring you pleasant dreams. But you were so little then. Now you're so wonderfully big!"
She made a grab for his prick. But he caught her wrist and gently but firmly pushed her away. "Later, darling. Right now I want you to lie down, please."
She was hardly in a-mood to argue. So she placed her head on the pillow and lay there on her back with her white legs parted and her wet, open cunt exposed; he climbed atop her. Erica didn't look down at his cock. She wanted to be pleasantly surprised when he entered her, find out exactly how much he had grown since last night.
As she continued to lie there with her eyes closed and her whole body shivering excitedly with anticipation, he kissed her mouth, her breasts and finally she felt the slippery head of his prick nudging open the lips of her hungry cunt. She caught her breath and moaned delightfully with the sensation he brought her as he pressed into her. He was bigger and harder that she had ever imagined he would be ... bigger and harder than any man she had ever known, including Larry and Ultra and Mr. Williamson back on the farm.
She tried to stretch the walls of her cunt as wide as she could to allow Kendall's prick to slide more easily into her depths. Slowly working back and forth, he eased into her. He was so big ... so wonderful ... filling her to absolute capacity.
Once he was fitted snugly inside her and her juices began to flow sufficiently to flood her cunt and lubricate his cock so that he could move in and out more easily, Erica came to life. She gave him all the cooperation that any woman could give a man, squirming beneath him like a live eel. No part of her remained immobile. She whipped her slight, big breasted body against him like a willow in a high wind. Rubbing, twisting, wiggling, sucking on him with her cunt. She wanted to cum with every thrust he made into her. She wanted him to cum, too. She wanted both of them to cum together. But he seemed to be holding back.
She screamed in an ecstasy of maddening pleasure as her first orgasm caught hold and she clung to him, tightly, as the waves of her lust swept through her. Then she went back to her furious humping only to cum again ... and again ... and again....
She increased the fury of her attack, surging about on the bed. She rubbed and squeezed and pulled at his prick with her cunt lips in wild desperation, trying to bring him on. But there was no sign of him even starting to climax, no indication that the giant prong jammed into her box was ever going to ejaculate, or lose its hardness.
All the while, Erica kept growing weaker and weaker as her own orgasms continued to mount, draining her strength. Finally she fell back against the mattress in utter and complete exhaustion.
"Had enough?" he whispered.
"Enough," she managed to get out. Then as she felt him starting to withdraw, she looked up at him. "What about you-you haven't cum yet?"
He grinned, the perspiration rolling from his handsome face and his manly body and dripping down onto her belly and tits. "Don't worry about me."
She frowned. "But it isn't good, darling-what do they call it-"
"Coitus interruptus."
"Yes. It isn't good for you. It makes you frustrated." She managed to sit up and started to reach for his prick. "If it's stuck ... I mean, if you can't climax that way, darling, let me suck you off ... let me make you cum with my mouth...."
As he started to pull away from her, she grasped his penis in her right hand. An incredible thing happened! She pulled his cock right off his belly!
For a moment she froze as panic streaked through her. Then she took a second look. He still had his penis. The same small, limp length of flesh dangled down between his legs. Blankly, she looked at the object in her right hand-and gasped!
"It's an artificial penis, darling," he quickly explained to her.
She'd heard about such things but had never actually seen one before.
"It's an authentic reproduction," he went on, as he took it from her. "See, it's made of the highest quality, soft plastic material, firm as the real thing. It's even circumcized. It fits right over my own penis and little ticklers inside give me a thrill at the same time I'm giving one to you." He smiled. "How many men have a penis this long and this fat around?"
Erica kept staring at him, incredulously. "But-but why?"
He put the bogus cock aside and got off the bed.
"Well," he said as he reached his yellow shorts and put them on, "I'm not exactly impotent. I mean, if I were, I could never get it up. But I can, although I admit, not very often."
Erica swallowed. "How often?"
Kendall shrugged. "Oh-maybe once every one or two months."
Erica's pretty face blanched. "Once every one or two months?"
He nodded. "Last night was one of those times. I asked you if you wanted to wait until we got here to the hotel. But you were too impatient. So that was it. You had it last night on the back seat of the car."
Erica kept her gaze riveted to his wide, muscled back as he turned, took his trousers from the chair and began to put them on. "I-I don't understand, Wayne-if-if you knew you were like that, why did you marry me? It wouldn't have been necessary. I'd have gone to bed with you, for that one time, just for the asking."
He turned to face her, one leg in and the other out of his trousers. He said, "Benny thought it would be a good thing for both of us. You and me."
"In what way?"
"Publicity wise. You being married to me, could do you a lot of good. And me being married to somebody like you-a real, luscious, young woman-well, it would kill all those nasty rumors about me-and maybe get the picture I was in off the ground."
"And that's the only reason you had for marrying me?"
He shook his head as he finished putting on his trousers, and walked to the side of the bed. "Not exactly. As a matter-of-fact, Erica, I didn't go for the idea of marrying you, when Benny first put the proposition to me. Not until after I came to the club and saw you. What I told you is true. I fall in love very easily. That's what happened with you. The moment I laid eyes on you, I went overboard for you."
Erica didn't say anything for a long time. She just continued to sit there on the bed with her legs drawn up and her chin resting on her bent knees, thinking, staring unseeingly into space. Finally she emitted a deep sigh, got off the bed and started to reach for her clothes.
Kendall waited and watched as she put on her panties and toed into her high heels, then as she reached for her dress, he asked, "Just where do you think you're going?"
She took her handbag that she'd managed to keep with her since leaving the dressing room at the club last night, and fished out her wallet. She counted the bills in the center-fold and said, "I've got just about enough money for a plane ride back to L.A. and maybe a taxi ride to the Cock Club."
"I won't let you go!" he shouted with sudden authority as he swept around the bed and grabbed hold of her shoulders.
She looked up at him, impassionately. "It wouldn't work out. It couldn't work out, not ever."
"Why not?"
"If you'd done like I said last night. If you'd gone to a little trouble and found out something about me, you'd have saved both of us a lot of headaches and maybe a little heartache," she told him, not with malice or any sharpness in her voice, even though he had deceived her and pulled all her dreams right out from under her. "I couldn't even begin to live with a man who couldn't give me as much as I wanted to give him. Once every one or two months wouldn't even begin to satisfy me."
"But there's the artificial penis," he said, pointing to the prick on the bed.
She looked at him almost pitifully. "Darling, if you think for one moment that I could let any man screw me with an artificial penis every night, you haven't even begun to know me. Now that I know what it is, I couldn't get any more of a thrill out of it than I could masturbating. Because that's what it would be-glorified masturbation."
"But you can't just walk out," he argued.
"Why can't I?"
"Because it's in all the papers that we got married last night." He went quickly to the dresser and came back with several newspapers that Benny or somebody had very thoughtfully left outside the door to their room.
Erica looked at the papers. What he said was true. The story of their runaway marriage was front page news with accompanying photos. MOVIE STAR WEDS BEAUTY WINNER. WAYNE KENDALL MARRIES MISS STRIP'71.
"Ordinarily the story wouldn't have broken yet," Kendall explained to her. "But Benny played a long shot and called in the story before we even got to Vegas. By now it's probably all over radio and TV, too."
Erica dropped the papers onto the bed and said, "Now all Benny has to do is call everybody back and tell them that the marriage is no more."
Having finished putting on her dress, Erica ran a comb through her long, straight, brown locks, took her handbag and started toward the door.
"If you think you can just walk out, you're in for a surprise, my dear," Kendall called after her, sonorously.
She hesitated with a hand on the doorknob to turn and look at him. " How do you figure that out?"
"I won't give you a divorce," Kendall informed her.
"And from what I hear, that gorilla who owns the Cock Club won't let a girl work for him once she gets married."
Erica made no answer. She simply opened the door and went out.
Because fog had closed down International Airport and all neighboring airfields, Erica was grounded in Vegas for the rest of the day. The fog didn't clear until the next day, so it was after noontime before she could book passage for L.A. and late in the afternoon when she finally arrived at the Cock Club.
As she started across the club floor, heading for Ultra's private elevator at the rear of the building, Hilda stopped her. Hilda looked frightened.
"Ultra wants to see you, honey," she told Erica.
"In the penthouse?"
Hilda shook her mop of red hair. "In his office." As Erica turned to go, Hilda caught her arm and whispered, ominously, "He's in one son-of-a-bitch of a mood."
"Because of me?"
Hilda nodded. "That was a very stupid thing you did, honey."
Erica didn't reply. She just continued down a short flight of stairs to the office.
The girl behind the reception desk looked up at Erica from behind her desk, as Erica entered. "You can go right in," the receptionist said, gravely. "I-I think he's sort of expecting you."
"Thanks."
Erica opened the door to Ultra's inner sanctum.
Ultra raised his eyes very slowly as she came in. But he didn't say anything until she halted before his desk. Then he swept a hand over the newspapers strewn out in front of him on the desk, disgustedly. She could see that they all carried the front page story of her marriage to Wayne Kendall.
"That's what I call a great fuckin' bunch of gratitude," were the first words he spit at her. "I turn my back and leave you alone for one lousy, goddam weekend and what do you do-you go to Vegas and tie the friggin' knot with some stinkin' asshole of an actor. A fuckin' no-balls bastard, who just wants to milk your cunt for the publicity he can get for his goddam movie. And you fall for it!"
"I'm sorry, Jack-"
"Don't you sorry me and don't you ever again call me anything except MISTER Ultra! You lousy cunt; I give you a job. I pay you a top salary. I buy you all the clothes you want and even give you a bed to sleep in. And what do I get from you-a fuckin' knife shoved in my back!"
"But I'm not going back to him," Erica tried to explain, desperately. "I made a mistake. I know that now."
"You made a mistake!" he mocked. "You can bet your ass you made a mistake. A fuckin' whopper! And you're just about 36 hours too late to wake up to that fact. He really took you, didn't he?"
"Took me?"
"You mean, you don't know?"
"Know what?"
"That you aren't even legally his wife."
"Not his wife?" Erica echoed shrilly.
"And you never were. The son-of-a-bitch already had a wife when he married you. The dumb prick thought his divorce went through, thought his decree was final. But as soon as you and him had your mugs splashed over the papers, his wife's lawyers very quickly got in touch with him and told him the cold hard facts."
Erica emitted a faint sigh of relief. At least, she didn't have to go through the unpleasantries of severing her relationship with Kendall and his artificial wang. But any relief or elation she might have felt was destroyed by what Ultra said when he continued.
"Yes, Miss Jerk," he told her. "Looks like you won yourself another award. A shitpot for stupidity. Because now you aren't only minus a husband, you're also out of a job. I wouldn't let you clean out the fuckin' urinals, not even if you did it with your tongue. Not only that, you're leavin' every last goddam stitch of clothes I bought for you right where they are up in the penthouse. That goes for your mink coat and everything else, too. Which means you're gonna leave here with exactly what you came in with-the clothes on your back. And one more thing-if I were you, I wouldn't hang around here any longer than it'll take you to grab a bus. I hung a sign on you marked LOUSY. There ain't a place in this town where you could get a job-not even peddlin' your stinkin' cunt."
He looked up at her in stony silence for several moments as she stood across the desk from him. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"Y'know the funny part of the whole thing is," he said to her finally. "The part that really rankles my ass, is that if you'd have played it smart, you could've walked away with the whole fuckin' jackpot tucked under your arm. Because-here's the laugh-I was right on the verge of making stickin' my prick into you legal. That's right, you dumb fuckin' cunt, I was right up to where I was gonna make you Mrs. Jack Ultra." The thought of it seemed to enrage him to the point where the gorge swelled up in his throat and murder looked out of his eyes. "Now get the fuck out of here! Get outta my goddam sight and don't ever let me see you again, or I'll beat the fuckin' life out of you!"
Erica waited for no more. She turned on her heels and ran out of the office. She didn't even stop to say goodbye to Hilda.
Erica held a handkerchief to her nose as if she were suffering from a bad cold as she rode down to the main floor in the elevator and hurried across the crowded lobby. She didn't let the tears come until she got out onto the sidewalk.
She didn't know for sure why she was crying. She was sure it wasn't because Wayne Kendall already had a wife. Nor was it because she'd lost out on becoming Mrs. Jack Ultra. It more likely was because she'd made such a horrible mess of everything and because she'd be unable to send anything more to those kids back at the orphanage. It was heartbreaking to think that after all she'd gone through, after getting right up there to the top, she was now right back to where she'd started.
She waited until the tears turned off, then she daubed at her eyes with the hankie, stuffed it back into her handbag and began to walk. Where she was going, she didn't even stop to think. She just wanted to keep walking until her head cleared, until she could think more rationally. But she hadn't gone more than half a block when someone fell into step alongside her.
She turned her head and let out a startled gasp. "Larry! Is-is it really you?"
"In the flesh," he replied. "Or is that being obscene?"
She was all flustered and confused. "I-I can't believe it's you. I mean, you're the very last person in the world I ever expected to see. Where did you come from?"
"Wisconsin. To narrow it down even more-Milwaukee."
"What were you doing in Milwaukee?"
"That's where the main office for the tractor firm I work for, is located."
"But if you were there-what are you doing here?"
"Well, it seems I heard something on television about you marrying some skidding actor who wanted to cash in on your publicity, in an effort to prop up his latest picture," Larry said as they resumed walking. "I had an idea how that little bit of information might affect Ultra. I decided to hop the first plane I could and fly out here. I figured you just might need a strong arm around you."
Erica grasped his forearm and squeezed it, tightly, appreciatively.
They took a few more steps then Larry asked, "I also heard on a later newscast that this movie actor husband of yours already had a wife when he married you, and that your marriage to him no longer holds any water."
"That's what Ultra just told me."
"So where does that leave you?"
"Right where I was that day you picked me up at the side of the road, with not a thing more to my name than I had then."
"Except that you're much prettier and much wiser," he supplemented. "No, not wiser."
"So that makes us even."
"In what way?"
"As I remember it, the last time I saw you, I left you sitting alone on the bed in a certain club owner's apartment. I wouldn't call that very wise, would you?"
She squeezed his arm again. "You thought you were doing the right thing."
"Maybe so. But it just so happens that since that night, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind for even ten seconds."
She looked up at him. She didn't tell him how many times she'd thought of him since the night he'd said goodbye and went back on the road. Under the circumstances, she didn't think it would be very appropriate. It would look as if she were just saying it because she was in a spot.
"In any event," Larry went on. "I'm not taking any more chances and leaving you anyplace."
"I'm not sure I follow you?"
"Well, the reason I was called to the main office is because they want to make me district manager back there, at a big hike in salary. Enough for me to tell Ultra I'm not working for him anymore."
She was awfully glad to hear that.
"There's only one hitch to the job," Larry continued as they proceeded to walk along side-by-side. "They like their district managers to be married. They figure it makes a man more reliable, more stable."
Erica smiled weakly. "I'm sure it won't be very difficult for you to find the right girl."
"That's just it, I have found the right girl," he told her intently. "A girl who'll keep me nice and warm during those long, cold, Milwaukee winter nights. Only I'm wondering...."
"Wondering what?"
"How you're going to like living in a place like Milwakee"
It took Erica a moment to realize what he said. Then she halted in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and gulped. "Me? You mean-you want me to be your wife?"
He shrugged. "Of course-it's not Hollywood-"
"Oh, Larry darling!" she blurted out.
Everybody passing by paused momentarily to look at them with amused smiles as he took her in his arms and kissed her.
