Young love may be passionately romantic, but in this jet age it is seldom realistic. Sadly, it seldom lasts. In recent years, the rate of divorce in some states, particularly California, where no grounds need to be established and people from other states flock in to get unhitched, exceeds the number of marriages.
In this novel, author Ray Cameron relates in a frame of fiction the true life story of a girl who loved, lost, and finally came, through her own endurance, to find and accept a love that a few months before she couldn't have imagined.
Julie Bourbon was only too glad to start modeling for her handsome young husband Russ to help him get started in his career. She knew nothing about the people behind the scenes, the manipulators ... or that Russ had mortgaged her to them.
The very idea of oral sex shocked her, but in a state of terror and confusion she was skillfully guided into lesbian connections and taught the ancient art of love.
The Publisher doesn't wish to suggest that there is anything unnatural about these practices. They have developed over the centuries, and in the countries of Europe and the Orient young girls are encouraged by their own mothers to take their lovers penis into their mouth, or in their anuses rather than their vaginas.
Why?
A girl can't get pregnant that way.
For centuries, invading and raping men invaded from one country to another under a multitude of banners. No woman wants to bear the child of a raping soldier, so they learned over the centuries that oral or anal intercourse would satisfy the carnal lust of their conqueror ... and could also give them great sensual pleasure.
This was passed down from mother to daughter.
In America, which is a relatively young country, never defeated in war, never invaded since 1812, the situation is somewhat different. When the frontier was being pushed westward, there were only two kinds of women. The wives of the pioneers and the prostitutes, some of whom became very high in San Francisco society.
But in general, a man heading West had to find an Indian girl and there were few of those as they fled with their various tribes.
The hard-working pioneers read nothing but the Bible and they drilled it into the heads of their children, unto the fourth generation.
Now those young people are exploding, and that's what this book's about. They are seeking the good, free life. No longer can they vent their spleen on the red man ... they can only throw rocks at Cadillacs and expend their frustration in sex, in any way that they can think of.
Julie Bourbon is no revolutionary or hippie. She is a solid, hard-working girl who gets caught in a trap, but, while in the trap, she discovers herself. She finds that she's being used by her husband and others and, perhaps over-reacting, yields to other men and girls. . Eventually she finds and accepts her real self.
What is her real self?
You must read on to discover.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
To an exhausted Julie Bourbon, it seemed like Roman candles and star shells were exploding within the deep-burning orbs of her carefully made-up eyes. The lovely, long-legged blonde, who could have been a centerfold girl in Playboy or Penthouse whirled on cue, the short skirt of her light summer cocktail dress flaring wide, showing the smoothly rounded asscheeks barely covered by gossamer, lace-edged black panties while her unfettered breasts danced and jiggled under the bodice of a dress which, the manufacturer fervently hoped, would be a top seller in his fall line.
He was a heavyset, balding New Yorker who wanted advertising and publicity shots for his next season made in frantic Las Vegas. As Julie flashed a smile which showed perfect white teeth framed by sensuous lips, the brilliant master strobe and slave-light units battered her aching brain with their millisecond flashes.
"That's it, honey ... let's see lots of bod," the manufacturer said, wiping a glistening sheen of sweat from his jowling face. "Keep moving it around while Russ burns up a lot of film ... like you were swinging your tail in a discotheque! Aaaa! Beautiful!"
Julie had a great urge to throw something, but there was nothing to be thrown ... and, anyway, the fat man didn't know he was being crude ... after all, he was from the garment district in New York. And she was sure he had no interest in her as a woman. Every time they broke the modeling session for a costume change of a cooling lemonade, he was quickly hanging tight to the slender, doe-eyed young man who was head designer for the line, who wore pink velvet flare slacks, platform shoes and a mauve shirt. Plus his hair hung halfway down his back and he had false eyelashes.
So much for the garment business, the high-breasted, tiny-waisted model thought as she struck a series of poses and the motor-driven Canon F-l clicked away while the man who handled it crouched and, with the grace of a tiger, jumped up on chairs, dropped to his knees, lay on the floor, his eye never leaving the viewfinder of the camera. He was tall, with dark hair and a skin deeply tanned by the hot sun of Southern California and the Nevada desert.
"Break!" he said curtly. "Got to change cameras and lenses."
Julie's ripe bosom rose and fell as gratefully she stepped down from the posing stage and managed a smile for the young man, who was already unslinging the 35mm Canon and checking the settings on a Hasselblad. She smiled her thanks as the account executive from the small but energetic ad agency handed her a frosty glass.
Sometimes it could be hell ... a dozen costume changes, being touched up with makeup which she would scrub off as soon as possible to show her clear pale golden skin. Hour after hour under the relentless glassy stare of the ever-present lenses. But at least she had a man, a talented young husband who worked just as hard as she did, if not more so. Russ Bourbon, the one with the cameras. Oh, the first few months had been anything but easy, being married just after he ended near the top of his class in the prestigious photo college at Santa Barbara and decided to set out on his own.
Sipping the refreshing soft drink, Julie Bourbon reflected that all new marriages must have their problems. But of late she found herself becoming jealous of the blasted cameras. While she and Russ ate spaghetti or beans, unless the agency or clients wanted to take them out for a decent meal and a couple of drinks, the ambitious young photographer had over twenty thousand dollars invested in cameras, lenses, lights, filters, tripods and God-only-could-guess what else. The amount, when she saw it on their joint income-tax return, staggered her.
And they were living in a one-room studio apartment and driving a junker car a dozen years old! It didn't seem fair! True, both were paid for the modeling sessions, and were beginning to get known as hard, competent and dependable free-lancers.
There was only one real advantage from Julie's weary point of view. Once a shooting session was complete, she got to keep the clothes either for nothing or a very nominal price-there was one handmade dress of white lace with thousands of hand-sewn sequins which sold in the fancy stores for over a thousand dollars, and she had gotten it for twenty. She had a wardrobe which would make the wife of a multimillionaire turn green enviously. But not, she knew, because of the generosity of the manufacturer. Garments which had been pinned, pulled, twisted and perspired heavily in couldn't be shown to buyers. The rag game was highly selective.
Oh, the tired young beauty knew that someday they'd make it together, that Russ would be successful. Yet there was a nagging worry beginning to form in her young mind.
She was afraid he was on the road to impotence.
Perching on a stool and praying for the day to end soon, Julie reflected that although she'd successfully remained a virgin until her marriage less than a year before, she really liked being in bed with Russ. Having his hands caress her trembling young body, his skilled lips enclosing the hardening nipples of her firmly upthrust breasts as his tongue danced and teased ... his fingers sliding sometimes feather light, sometimes iron hard between her eagerly parting thighs and then finding the quickly lubricious tight pale tufted furrow of her expanding cuntal lips ... these things delighted her.
But she drew the line at any deviation from what she considered normal. She would go so far as to fondle his soft penis with her lewdly groping fingers and weigh his semen-heavy balls in her smooth hand ... but no more.
"Julie, honey," he would whisper, his tongue slithering into an erotically thrilling way into her ear, "take me in your mouth, just for a few minutes, I'll be hard before you know it ... and you know all the girls suck now!"
"Well, I guess I'm not one of the girls," she said, or words to that effect, every time. And then, frustrated, aroused and wantonly yearning but refusing to surrender her beliefs for a few minutes of carnal sex, she would roll over in their lumpy bed and silently cry herself to sleep.
And then it was back to work again, more poses, a change into a black nightie that was flimsy as smoke, viewing her lush young body in the three-way mirror, seeing the thrusting of her breasts and the rich curve of her buttocks.
"You expect me to pose in something like this?" Julie demanded in both incredulity and anger.
"I'd rather pose naked-and there's fat chance of that."
"Talk to her, fellow," the garment man said to Russ as if he was a servant. "You can do some airbrushing later."
Two cameras slung around his neck, the lean young photographer drew his smoldering wife aside and said, "Honey, you've got to do it. Look, I know he's a slob, but he's got money he hasn't begun to count and interests in a lot of other things, like package food, home furnishings, stuff for young mothers and I don't know what else, but it's plenty." Nervously, he got a cigarette going and continued, "I'll shoot it so it's sexy but doesn't show any more than you do at the pool in a bikini. This could be the key to the door of success. No more spaghetti and beans. Now, for chrissakes, don't get him pissed off! Do it!"
Tears were ready to burst from her eyes, but if she cried, that would wipe out her makeup and force her into another hour of this humiliation. And then the taffy-haired girl surrendered.
"All right-but I'm going to look like a different woman. What would my friends-our friends-say if I let myself be photographed in this? It'll only take a minute."
Russ Bourbon knew his wife's hard-headed ways and could only shrug and turn back toward the others. "She'll do it, but she wants to change a few things . , . and she's not happy."
"If she isn't there are plenty of others who will be," the New Yorker said ominously, and Russ could see future commissions sprouting wings and flying. "Let's rest and have a drink. These things rip me open a little, too."
Ice tinkled and liquor splashed and they waited until the fat man's eyes widened and he said, "Ummmmm ... eyeful! It's okay. In fact it's fine!"
Hesitantly, a different Julie was coming toward them from the dressing room, the gossamer garment swirling its lacy hem barely below the juncture of her thighs, her firm, proud breasts swaying. Only now her hair was a deep glossy brown. Her delicate facial features were somehow fuller, her mouth a different shade to harmonize with the wig she wore over her own pale-hued curls.
"I hope this will be all right," she said.
"Christ, you DO look like a different woman," the garment merchant said. "You even talk different."
"I put some cotton in my cheeks. I feel like a chipmunk, so can we make this fast, please?"
In half an hour they were packing up the mass of equipment and Julie had changed back to a street dress. Now that it was over, she felt much better and wondered if she'd made a mountain out of a molehill. After all, she knew what some girls had to go through to get in front of a camera. One day when they didn't have the price of coffee between them, Russ had reluctantly agreed to handle a big Arriflex movie camera for a quickie blue film. It had happened at a time when he'd been absolutely unable to get his penis hard for almost a week. She was well aware of what was going to go on, and Julie was afraid seeing all that sexual depravity-pretty young girls casually doing all the things she refused him-that one of them might get what she yearned for.
Eyes popping, she had watched, for the first time, two other people having sex. The girl was licking and kissing her partner's long thick penis, her tantalizing lips ovaled tightly around the mushroom-capped staff until he began to screw deep into her cavernous mouth, pulling her straining face obscenely down to his jerking loins until his cock swelled and spurted and thick silvery-white streams of cum gushed in an endless stream into the widely parted lips as she licked and sucked his cockhead.
Julie had wanted to be sick but was too fascinated. Then there had been a hiatus while the camera was reloaded and drinks were had. After which the couple was on the bed again, this time with the man licking the girl's trembling body, every inch of it, before kneeling between her wide-splayed long legs as his deft tongue lewdly plumbed the depths of her wide-open pulsing cunt until with a cry of carnal delight the smooth thighs locked around his burrowing face and his cheeks glistened with her vaginal juices.
As if nothing at all had happened, the actors, production crew and several hangers-on went out to a leisurely lunch in a nearby restaurant.
Later, the stars put in a long time fucking, but by then Julie had become so innured to what was going on it was anticlimactic.
"That," the aroused young blonde had said later when they were in their tiny apartment, "was an education, I'll admit! How could they, well, do all those things with so many people around?"
"After a couple of F & S films, they forget their inhibitions." He grinned. "We're all alone ... want to try it?"
"Not on your life!" Julie had retorted, but not angrily as she looked down at the front of his pants and saw the pole-like outline of his penis. Boldly she rubbed against him, kissing him with softly parted wet lips. "You know how I want it ... NOW!!!"
Although physically tired by his chore of handling the heavy camera under hot lights all day, Russ had been aroused as he hadn't been in weeks! He almost ripped his clothes off, freeing the long, rigid length of his ready male-flesh that jutted out obscenely from his tight-muscled young belly. He hadn't even given the startled young bride time to undress, just thrown her down on the bed, shoved a lewdly searching hand hard up between her thighs to find the flimsy cloth of her panties.
It parted with a harsh ripping and his groping fingers were probing carnally into the seething depths of her long-denied pussy. Her hair flailing, Julie Bourbon squirmed and, even as she grasped for his thrusting penis to guide it into her wetly flexing flesh tried to plead with Russ to at least give her time to get as naked as he was.
But the aroused photographer failed to heed her whimpers-if in fact he even heard them. Grasping her shapely calves, he jackknifed her spasming legs up until her smooth knees were pushing down hard on the soft resilient mounds of her breasts.
"Aaaaauuuugggghhhh!!!!" the impaled girl had cried out as she felt the length and girth of his cock splitting her tight little cunt, sending surges of rolling pink flesh ahead of the massive head until it slammed hard into the hot depths of her jerking belly and his heavy balls smacked wetly into the wide-splayed jiggling cheeks of her tightly squeezing ass.
This is rape, she thought at the time. But oooo-ooohhhh-how I needed him in me!!! With abandoned carnality she ground her writhing young body against the mattress, jerking the sweaty plane of her aroused genitals up to absorb every bit of the plundering phallus.
Feeling her juices boiling far up in her grasping vaginal passage, she had, with fingers suddenly clumsy, pulled the top of her thin dress down, baring the rich globes of her tingling breasts against the heavily panting chest of Russ. Her eyes were wide in surprise and joy and her lovely full lips contorted, drawn back tight over her fine white teeth in pure animal passion until, at last, she heard a strange voice that had to be her own repeatedly scream, as her tight cuntlips grasped the thick wet piston that was relentlessly splitting them.
"I'm cummmmiiiinnnngggg!!! Aaaaahhhhh!!! Yesssssss!!!! MORE-HARDER!!! Oh, RUSSSS! CUMMMM IN MEEEEEEEE!!!"
As she felt the thickening of his wetly slamming cock, the hot thick fire of his cum flooded her humping loins, mingling with the exotic scents of her own juices of passion. The aroused blonde wasn't sure, but she thought she must have fainted.
It had been good, but never as good again....
* * *
Now, in this burning-hot Las Vegas afternoon, the group stood in the deep-carpeted lobby of the luxury casino, with the muted whirr-click-click thump of the garish banks of slots and the muted chant of the dice dealers, a couple of husky bellhops carried out the heavy camera cases and other equipment. The New York big spender was trying to get the boy in the pink flare slacks out of what even comparatively innocent Julie Bourbon could see was a mood which would lead to a lover's quarrel. The agency guy, a hardened Las Vegan watched their departure.
"Why do assholes like that wind up with all the money and we work our asses off for shells without peanuts in them?" he grumbled.
He was a tall, thin ordinary-appearing man who had been unable to stand the Madison Avenue scramble and so had come West to start his own small advertising and public-relations agency, bringing with him little but a lot of big money contacts from New York. His name was Ken Kellogg, and he was universally known as "Cornflakes." He grinned and said, "Well, that wouldn't have been even a warmup on Mad Ave. You guys must be dying of thirst! Come on, I scrounged an expense account, and he expects me to pad the billing anyway. Let's get something for the throat and solid chow."
"Wish we could, Ken," Russ Bourbon said. "But we could meet you after we've got our stuff back in the pad and cleaned up."
"That sound's better. I'll go do likewise and we'll have a night on the town on Fat Fairy Godmother, and may his wand always wave."
Laughingly they parted and Julie and her husband collected their well-traveled Pontiac station wagon and drove the few blocks to the second-rate hotel where they had a studio. Actually it was not bad, the best thing about it being that it was free, as Ken Kellogg had taken a liking to them and arranged a few things to the mutual benefit of his agency, the hotel and the young Bourbons. The hotel liked the idea of having a professional resident photographer around, because the established local photogs wouldn't walk through the door for less than a hundred bucks-if you could get one. From a practical point of view, allowing them the apartment, a couple of dinners a week and a few drinks-plus Russ could charge the usual fees-they had a camera-in-residence. With all the new multimillion-dollar-carpet joints, this one had to cut corners. And they had an arrangement with a commercial film-processing lab too.
"Russ, it's a rip-off,-you can do better," Julie had objected.
"Sure honey, and we will," her ambitious husband had assured the tawny-haired young wife. "But this way we have living quarters that would run us about two fifty a month. Some meals and drinks. A telephone and business address ... and a chance to make contacts. In a year or so, when I've got more equipment and cold cash for our nonexistent bank account, we'll move up. Right now, kiddo, it's survival. And this is the worst town in the country to be broke in. Plus, all the big names come here. Sooner or later, we'll meet some. Believe me, it's better than me having to work back of the bar with my head in the ice and my ass in the air while you hustle drinks in the casino."
"Oh, you're right, Russ," Julie had said. And then, pouting, "If only all our money didn't have to go for those damn cameras!"
"Julie, I need them to work with." He said it patiently but in a way that wouldn't allow any argument, and she knew it was the truth. Russ was good, and sharp enough to always be on the lookout for more work. Things were bound to improve....
* * *
Now, at their hotel, they rode up in the automatic elevator almost hip-deep in camera equipment and the boxes containing Julie's newest addition to her wardrobe. Seemingly without effort, Russ with the ease of long practice grabbed two huge camera and equipment cases, slung a bulging gadget bag over each shoulder while she carried the light clothing boxes. For a slender man, he seemed to have amazing strength. Julie knew he was carrying more than two hundred pounds, most of it hanging from his hands. As he locked his professional gear away, the young flaxen-haired wife undressed and scurried into the shower, hoping he'd join her. The nearly carnal poses she'd gone through had excited her.
But he didn't. Frowning, the big-busted blonde turned the spray on cold, stood under it until she felt goosebumps and, drying herself with a fluffy towel, went out to their combination bed, living and dining room. Russ lay naked on the day bed, a bottle of beer in one hand, a copy of Popular Photography in the other. He didn't look up.
She thought the damn magazines cost almost as much of their combined salaries as the cameras, and he was either buying a new box or lens or some other gadget. There must have been a ton of magazines. Playboy and Penthouse and Oui and all the women's publications ... Julie thought the people who put out the fashion books didn't spend as much time reading them as Russ. He said he had to see what they wanted if he was going to work his way into five-thousand-dollar assignments, and ruefully she guessed he was right.
"It's all yours," Julie said, with a double meaning. Yet even as she looked down at him, she was appraising his flaccid penis. At the moment Russ had no interest in his young, yearning wife and she knew it as she wryly added, "The shower."
"Yeah ... thanks, babe," he said.
Well, she told herself, he must be exhausted from the shooting session, too. At least I didn't have twenty pounds of cameras hung around my neck all day! Her flaxen hair brushed to glimmering perfection, she selected a minisheath that was almost fluorescent and high-heeled boots to match, wriggling into bikini panties. By the time the young bride was finished, Russ was out of the shower, freshly shaved and getting dressed in a dark suit that had been cut along mod lines, knotting a string tie and looking very handsome. The phone rang. Ken Kellogg was waiting for them in the lobby, and he had his car parked in front.
It was a current-model Mercedes convertible, which he explained with a grin was part of the image you had to maintain if you were just getting started in Vegas in public relations and advertising. Even if you couldn't buy a beer, you found money for a flashy car. Waiting in it was an almost tiny, elfin dark-haired girl so slender she looked almost like a boy-certainly undernourished by the voluptuous dimensions of Julie Bourbon, the latter thought. She was introduced as Mike, and Julie had a moment of wondering if maybe she was a boy in girl's clothes. Her chest was almost flat, although the bright streetlights showed good legs under a brief dress. Her last name was one of those unpronounceable things from Poland or Yugoslavia or someplace in Eastern Europe.
She had immense dark eyes, tilted in a Slavic way at the outer edges. High cheekbones. Feeling no sense of challenge, Julie could admit that she had the most beautiful mouth she'd ever seen. Rich, soft, wet glistening lips. The balance of Mike's face was heart-shaped, angelic. The poor little skinny thing had to have something. It turned out that she was working part-time for Ken Kellogg's agency as a typist and interpreter, speaking five languages, and Ken was working on getting some accounts from behind the Iron Curtain now that trade was increasing and various shades of communist governments were trying to tap the American market. What Mike really wanted to be was a model.
Julie wanted to reply that with her figure, only the highest fashion places would glance at her, unless she could just do head shots for a cosmetics outfit. She sure was working the wrong side of the street in Vegas, where tits and ass and long legs were what put money in the bank. Julie said only that she was breaking in also.
There was a steak house a few miles out of Vegas where the prices were outrageous ... but they didn't have slot machines and there was no pressure to drink more than you wanted. Ken had arranged a secluded booth where in due time a multicourse meal which would have drawn raves in Parris arrived, along with wine. It was all Julie Bourbon could do to keep from jumping up and shouting out her pleasure after all the months of things that came in cans. She found the petite brunette appealing and seemingly glad to have any job at all, and particularly one which put her at least on the fringe of the advertising business. Julie sensed a sexual hunger that no man, with the choice female flesh of Vegas, would glance at, and found herself feeling sorry for Mike.
The men were talking business in low key. Over liqueurs, Ken said, "There's a small group of professional photographers here. They're so good they don't look for work-it looks for them. From what I've seen of your talent, Russ, you'd fit right in. It's a good way to pick up assignments. One photog is asked to do a job that's not his specialty, and he passes it on to a guy inside who will do it right. Some work all over the world. They don't even have a name but I know the one who more or less got it together. Guy named Chris Gael."
"I've heard of him-who hasn't?" Russ replied, suddenly excited. "One of the best industrial photogs in the country! Sure, my tongue's already hanging out."
"He's out of town but his wife Shawna said he'll be back within a week. Be happy to arrange it," the thin man said. "Oh, and how soon can you process the stuff you shot today? Fat Fairy Godmother will want to look before he goes East with lover boy."
"Dawn, you know I forgot it," Russ said. "Let me call and see if I can get an early time at the lab. Be right back."
He wandered around until he found a phone booth. The light didn't work and he misdialed twice before getting the all-night number and when he did Russ became unhappy and started arguing. He wanted the lab and he wanted it locked in tight and wasn't quite in a mood to sit on his ass while some bunch of amateurs got in there and fucked up every tank of soup and fixer in the place and he wasn't about to be shut off by any two-buck-an-hour phone chick.
"What's wrong? You've been gone over fifteen minutes!"
The husky voice startled him. He hadn't even noticed the door open. But suddenly beside him was the skinny little Mike, and he didn't need an interruption because it was hard enough for him to get his message across to the stupid girl on the other end. About half of what she said wasn't even in English!
"Listen to this shit!" he said, turning the phone so Mike could hear. It drew her against him and he was surprised to feel her curves as she pressed her beautiful face to his cheek.
And suddenly she exploded into a furious torrent of some strange language. He didn't understand a word, but knew it wasn't polite. After several minutes she slammed the phone down and with a triumphant smile on her sensuous mouth Mike said, "I had to talk to her in Czech, but you've got your lab from eight in the morning."
"I'll be fucked...." he mumbled in awe.
"Maybe," Mike said with a wicked grin. "We should go back to the table, or your lovely wife will think that is happening."
* * *
The elfin girl had been wearing some sort of perfume that was so subtle Russ Bourbon had hardly been aware of it until they were shut up in the close confines of the phone booth. Somebody should teach her how to dress, he thought ... she's got no tits but when she was pressed up to me so tight that round little ass and those legs that look thin until you feel them against you. He felt himself hardening, his cock rising and swelling against his trousers.
After saying goodnight to Ken Kellogg and Mike, he set the alarm for 6 a.m. before stripping naked and falling into bed. Despite the gourmet meal, his head ached. It had been a long goddam day, and tomorrow promised to be longer, locked up in a darkroom with roll after roll of film to process and print out for that fat bastard. Julie was in the tiny dressing room carefully hanging up her dress as she switched off the lamps, leaving the tiny apartment illuminated by only a pale night light. He couldn't get the perverse image of that Mike out of his mind, even when Julie came in, all glowing golden in the amber light and slithered languorously under the thin sheet which was the only cover they used on hot nights like this.
Julie was yearning so hard it was difficult to remember how many days had passed since Russ had spread her legs and rammed his hot thick penis into her seething little pussy. Well, the job he'd been sweating for a week was done, except for the film processing, so maybe now he'd fill the yearning in her quaking belly.
Lewdly searching between her husband's legs, her trembling fingers found the rigid shaft of his penis. She slowly rolled the thick fleshy foreskin down over the rubbery mushroom-shaped head and grasped the hotly pulsing staff of flesh. Panting with wanton desire, she grasped his semen-heavy scrotum with her other hand.
Drops of hot pre-seminal fluid were already oozing from the tiny slit in the reddish-purple tip! Thank God! He was ready and able tonight! Moaning with desire and crawling over his trembling body, her eager hand slowly stroking her husband's cock, Julie tried to bring it to the flowering portals of her blonde-fringed cuntal furrow as her mouth, full lips parted and tongue reaching for his, kissed his throat and ears....
"Oh ... NOOOOOO...." she cried out.
For suddenly his whole body jerked, his penis fucking into her tightly grasping little fist, and then her fingers were dripping stickily with his hot spurting cum! How could he! And even as the last globules of his semen soiled her palm and seeped downward to the rumpled sheet she began to cry as she never had before. She crawled off him and rolled into a ball, smelling the strong male scent of him in the small room. He reached for her, mumbling an apology, and she kicked and struck at him in frustration.
"What's happened to you?" the lovely tawny-haired girl cried.
"Dawn it, I've been working my ass off all day!" he shot back. "Seeing you in all those sexy outfits so that all you had to do was touch me and I shot, Julie! I'm sorry ... I couldn't help it."
"I'm sorry you couldn't too," she said bitterly. "The first time in almost two weeks-and what happens!!!"
"Look, babe, let me eat you," he pleaded. "Open those long beautiful legs and let me get my tongue into you ... you'll love it!"
"I want you the right way!" she wept. "Oh, it was so good in the beginning! Now you want to lick between my legs because that's all you can do! Or you want me to suck-SUCK YOUR COCK!"
"You show me a girl who won't go down on her own husband and I'll show you a freak," he said angrily.
"Then you're in bed with one!" She kicked at him when he touched her trembling thighs. "If we had two beds in this miserable place, I wouldn't be in yours! Touch me one more time and I swear I'll hit you with a camera!"
"Oh, fuck you, you puritan bitch!" he snarled.
He rolled away, turning his back to the sobbing young blonde.
Shivering as if caught in an Arctic blizzard, the broken-hearted young bride lay immobile for nearly an hour. Yet she still felt the urgent demands of her ripe female body. Slowly her fingers slid between the sensitive soft flesh of her thighs, seeking her still-wet cunt with its fringe of light-golden hair. Repressing a sigh, she began to stroke herself between the blood-engorged vaginal lips. She was so wet ... so wide open! She couldn't help spreading her legs wide and driving her lewdly searching fingers sinfully up into the writhing depths of her body, panting as with her other hand she began to caress the denied mounds of her jiggling breasts. Julie's thumb began to rub her clitoris and almost immediatly she felt the gushing of her passion juices erupt deep in her aroused young body.
"Aaaaauuuugggghhh!!!" she panted, writhing, her head rolling so her swinging hair sprayed over the cum-soaked sheet. "Uuuuoooooo!!!"
"Hey, wha's goin' on?" the sleep-drugged Russ mumbled, waking to the writhing and sluicing sounds and heavy panting and the way the bed was shaking.
"It looks like there are some things I have to do for myself," Julie whispered venomously. "Don't worry about it, Russ ... what you need is a woman like that little Mike. She's so small and lean you wouldn't have to worry. No place to put anything, if you had anything left to put."
Enraged, he made a grab for her but she scrambled out of the bed and grabbed for the phone, backing away from him as her fumbling terrified fingers spun the dial.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Russ demanded.
"I'm getting another room for the night, that's what I'm doing," Julie retorted. The desk clerk came on and assured her one was available. Julie thanked him, hung up and dressed faster than she ever had before. She went out the door, slamming it behind her, carrying only a big shoulder bag, trying not to cry.
In the hallway, she was intercepted by a gray-suited young man, very neat. He showed her a security badge and handed her a key.
"DeCosta," he said. "Desk said maybe trouble up here, so I was sent with the key. Would you like me to have a talk with him or get anything from the room for you?"
Insanely through the disturbed young woman's mind flashed the thought, Yes, but what I need isn't in that crummy studio. It's in your pants! Come with me and get into me and stay there screwing me until I'm really out of it!
That's what Julie Bourbon wanted to say. But she knew it would be a cheap shot. In order to live with herself she would have to fight her own battles with Russ no matter how she yearned for a long, rigidly reaming penis splitting her tender pussy.
"Thanks, but it'll blow over ... he had a hard day." She tried to grin, her face tear-streaked. "And he's looking at another one in the morning."
"I'm on until eight. The night crew will keep an eye on the situation, and I'll check by, Mrs. Bourbon," he said.
"I'm sure it will be cool by then, Mister DeCosta," Julie said as they arrived at a door two floors down. He took the key from her, opened it and ushered her in, turning on lights. It was a very nice room with two double beds and bath. Certainly more than she'd need for a few hours.
Putting the key on the night table, the security man smiled as he said, "I'm sure it will too. These things happen. And I suggest you put the chain on the door."
With a reassuring smile, the soft-spoken, polite man was gone.
Julie was happy to find the room had a bathtub. She filled it with warm water and soaked for a long time, then went to bed.
Naked and alone.
She wondered what Russ might be thinking, if he was still awake. It had been their first real quarrel.
* * *
It was nearly three in the morning when the phone jarred Russ Bourbon awake. His head hurt, and he was suddenly aware that Julie wasn't in bed beside him. Then he remembered the argument, muttered, "shit!" and grabbed the phone, growling. He expected it was a case of blood on the highway with an insurance adjuster needing some pix before the evidence vanished. He hated that kind of work but was in no position to turn anything down, no matter what the hour. He blinked with bleary eyes when he heard a sultry feminine voice.
"Russ! This is Mike. Problem."
"Goddamn it!" he snarled.
"I agree ... they woke me up too," the elfin girl said. "Here's the skinny. Fat Fairy Godmother has an emergency back in New York and he has to be on the first available plane ... he just has to have a look at the stuff you shot before he goes. Ken called. He says rough prints will do it."-
"You tell that pansy to blow his nose or anything else he can find," the irritated photographer shot back. "I don't have the lab until eight in the morning, and it's at least four hours of work." He reached for a cigarette and got it lighted. "And I'd need a lab tech to process that fast. He can't have them before five in the afternoon."
"You have the lab now. Cornflakes fixed it. And you have a tech."
"Who?"
"Me. I know how to crop and print and copy. So how soon do I meet you and Julie?"
"Julie's not here," he snapped, reaching for his pants. "This is going to cost that far-out fairy son-of-a-bitch. Meet you at the lab in twenty minutes."
Shit! he thought as he hurriedly pulled on his clothes. Every time you get your head out of the water, somebody hits it with an oar! And where the hell has Julie gone? Well, there's no time to sweat that now. He grabbed the spools of film and slammed out the door, completely unaware of the unobtrusive security officer who followed him until he got the ancient station wagon running and left with a squeal of tires. He had to go clear across town, and his eyes hurt and he had fur in his mouth and he was thoroughly pissed at the glittering night world of Las Vegas....
CHAPTER TWO
Mike had the door to the commercial lab open as he arrived. Russ Bourbon strode in like a master surgeon entering an operating theater, his mouth grim.
"You look like you could use a drink," she said.
"I could use a hell of a lot more than that," he said in reply, "but not until I get this stuff in the soup." As he spilled out the film cannisters on the counter in the darkroom and sorted them, then checked the tanks of chemicals, he cursed steadily in a monotone. He picked up the first cannister, prepared to rap it sharply on the counter and snapped, "Lights out."
The lab went to black and working by feel with sure competence Russ fed the spools of film into the processing machine. He could hear the breathing of the slender girl somewhere in the dense jet black which surrounded him. He worked swiftly and competently and when the last roll was in the soup switched on a dim light and set the timer. He was surprised to find the little girl laughing.
"What the hell can be funny at this time of day?" he demanded.
"You!" she said. "I've heard a lot of people talk to themselves ... but you answer yourself, too! And where did you ever learn such language?"
"Bad company, I suppose," the leanly handsome young photographer said. "Did you mention a drink?"
"I brought a bottle of Scotch," she replied, glad that he had apparently eased out of his angry mood and was now concentrating on his films. "How do you want it? With hypo for a mix?"
"I never drink hypo before sundown," Russ said, grinning now. "Just water."
There was a small lounge for the use of photographers and film processors who had to wait out the time-consuming process of developing, printing and drying photos. It was a modern, automated lab in which films, once fed into the machines, would be safely left to their own devices until it was time to dry them, yet Russ Bourbon could see hours of work ahead in the printing process. Mike had mixed herself a light drink, but a heavy one for him.
"You went through that like a tornado," she said, smiling with her sensuous mouth that looked out of place in her heart-shaped face. "This is a stinker, getting you out of bed ... did Julie complain?"
"Julie," he said curtly, "wasn't there. We had a disagreement."
"Oh ... I'm sorry," Mike said. She thought that if she could ever trap a man like this, she would really be his slave. She knew her petite figure was beautifully rounded-except that she had no breasts to speak of-and men always wanted those. She gave the impression of being skinny as a snake when clothed. Only when naked did the smooth contours of her heart-shaped buttocks and slender thighs become dominant. Lying under a man, with his penis ramming into her tight little pussy, she always felt inadequate because of her tiny breasts, not realizing that although they were small in size they were perfectly formed globes, the nipples bright as wild strawberries. Mike didn't want men to see her breasts, and when a man took her, she insisted on kneeling, knowing her legs and asscheeks were beautiful, making her lover take her from behind. Because of this feeling of inadequacy, she had never refused to at least try anything a lover wanted to do. Mike even took pleasure from being lightly spanked and had learned how to relax her rectum and yield to anal intercourse which gave her deep sensual pleasure if the man took his time.
Now she wondered how it would be to have sex with Russ Bourbon.
And his voluptuous blonde wife hadn't been home. Interesting....
The timer clock chimed and Russ went to put the film into the churning water. When he returned to the lounge, Mike had a fresh drink waiting for him. Damn it, he thought as he sipped it gratefully, this is a pretty little chick ... and she looks horny.
Mike was wearing a light, very short summer dress. And while she had no tits, Russ could find nothing at all wrong with her legs and she sure had a cute little ass. He wondered how it would be to fuck her. She had eyes you could dive into, and that mouth! He sighed, thinking of the work ahead. Just making wet prints of the negatives would take hours-there were over five-hundred separate shots, of which he might select a hundred as worth printing.
"Who's your regular lab tech?" Mike asked.
"Ha! I can't afford one yet," he said. "Usually Julie backs me up." He reached for her bottle and topped up his drink, beginning to feel the Scotch. "But tonight, no Julie. You're going to be hellish busy once we start printing, Mike."
"It's all right ... I get the day off for responding above and beyond the call of duty tonight," the tiny girl said. She pulled a cigarette from her pack and he lighted it. Then she pinned him with the dark eyes. "None of my business, Russ ... and I know I'm prying, but do you want to talk about Julie? I'm a sensitive person and I know now that pulling you out of bed caught you at a bad time."
Her words tapped the tiring, frustrating day and made the young photographer explode with a confession which he would never have made under ordinary circumstances.
"I'm not a man any more, and she knows it!" he blurted, draining his drink and quickly fixing a new one.
"I can't believe that," Mike said, reaching to touch him.
"Well, it's true!" he said bitterly, feeling the warmth of her little hand on his leg. "Goddamn it! I work my ass off-both of us do ... and it's just taken everything out of me. That plus I like variety in sex. I like to go down on a girl, and have her return the favor but Julie just won't. Christ, I must be drunk or I wouldn't tell anything like this to a stranger! But hell, maybe better to get it out in the open!"
"What happened, Russ?" the dark-haired little girl said, caressing him slowly, her hand moving steadily up his leg toward his manhood. "Spit it out! I'm a good listener, and it never goes any further."
"All day," he said wearily. "All day, Julie is posing, and I'm getting hot. When we got home, I wanted her, and she wanted to fuck too. Well, the minute she touched me, I was cumming in her hand. I really felt like a shit! Well, there were two things that could have fixed it up fine in just a little while. I wanted to eat her and she wouldn't even think about it ... although I know I could have satisfied her that way, and gotten hard enough to fuck her all night. And she won't even think of going down on me so I can get hard enough to fuck her! Damn it, she doesn't have to make me cum in her mouth! Just get me hard." He shook his head. "I was just so aroused that I popped as soon as she touched me. I don't blame her for being pissed, but damn it, she could at least try some of those things."
"Julie's never gone down on you?" the dark-haired elfin girl said as her hand lecherously explored the juncture of his thighs and her deft fingers closed on the now-rigid length of his penis. "I can't believe it!"
"Sad but true," Russ mumbled, moving against the hand.
"She's a damn fool!" The sensuous lips parted in a wry smile. "But most of the really beautiful women are. Now, look at me! I'm skinny as a fence post, so I have to try harder."
"I'll think about that," the dark, handsome photographer said. He was tingling as he hadn't for months as he felt her hand clutch his rigid cock through his slacks. He looked searchingly at her and finally said, "Well, you're sort of small, but by God, you're beautiful. Your mouth is the most inviting mouth I've ever seen. Maybe a little small in the tit department, but there's sure nothing wrong with your legs and ass, Mike!"
She thought a moment and then went to lock the door. She turned to him, her tongue wetting her lips before she spoke. "I don't want to mess you up with Julie ... sooner or later you'll work it out."
"I sure hope so," he said glumly.
"Well, there are things I need too," she said. "And the film will have to wash for an hour."
"If you're teasing, stop it," he said.
"I want to blow you ... suck your beautiful cock," she replied firmly. "If you want me...."
"I'll be double damned," he whispered, reaching for her, pulling her on top of him, caressing her with strong, searching fingers that knew all the erogenous zones. Her hand was on him again, drawing the zipper down, fishing for his rock-hard penis. "Damn, from the first time I saw you, I wanted to stuff my prick into your mouth ... wanted to eat you...."
He felt the wetness of her cunt through her thin panties and could smell the woman-scent of her. He wanted to tear them off and bury his face and his lewdly searching tongue between her legs, and he fumbled for the zipper of her dress.
"No!" Mike said sharply, squirming away. "Don' take my dress off ... until we know each other better. Then ... if it's good, you can have me any way you want."
"Any way?" He stroked her young, vibrant body, his fingers sliding between her clenching asscheeks and finding the tight little ring of her anus. She trembled at his touch. "Here, too?"
"Ummmmmm...." Mike moaned. "But not yet. Just this for now."
Deftly she drew his slacks down, and his shorts, and his long thick cock was in her deftly stroking hand. She rolled the fleshy foreskin down as she pulled a pillow from the sofa and knelt on it between his wide-splayed bare legs.
"Oooooohhhh ... so beautiful!!!" Mike murmured as the mushroom-shaped head of his cock filled her entire vision. His testicles were hot and heavy in her hand, and her nostrils flared as she drew in the male scent of him. God, but it was immense. Could she take all of it into her soft lips? The elfin girl bent low over his loins, her knees pressing hard into the pillow as she lovingly stroked the thick, iron-hard penis. A pearly drop of pre-seminal fluid was already forming at the reddish-purple tip and she flicked the tip of her tiny pink tongue over it, savoring the salty, rich taste. She'd never had one this big before and was sure her jaws would be sore by the time she finished what she had set out to do. Eyes wide, she raised her beautiful face and said, "I want you to cum in my mouth."
"Then go down on me."
"Not too soon ... I want to ... play with you," Mike replied, lovingly kissing the hot, rubbery knob. "It's so big ... I want it all, every inch, but I'll have to strain."
"You've got a beautiful mouth," he said, pulling her head down to the throbbing tip of his cock and feeling her soft, wet lips part in a tight oval even as her tongue swirled around his flesh like she was licking an ice-cream cone. She was so damn pretty, kneeling so subserviently over his hot loins, her lips working on the head of his prick like a fish's feeding mouth as she strained to draw him deep into the hot, saliva-filled cavern. She was moaning with wanton desire. He wanted to just grab her head and ram his shaft deep into her throat, but held back. She was so small she might choke. Yet she was taking it, her cheeks hollowing as inch by inch she absorbed his rampant cock, her head slowly bobbing....
He watched the thickly sensuous lips stretch to their utmost as she tried to encompass his throbbing penis. Finally he was sure he heard her jaw pop as the lust-swollen head penetrated between her gaping lips.
"Ummmmmm...." Mike moaned deep in her throat as her tongue worked on the head of his staff. She tried to engulf more of him and her cheeks ballooned around the thickness of his cock. She was not sucking yet, just trying to absorb all of him, and knew she was failing. He was so big! Reluctantly her salivating lips surrendered the knob-like head of his cock and she whispered, "I'm really going to have to work at this."
"If you can't take more than the head, you can use your hand," he told her.
"I want it all ... every bit of it in my mouth," she said, her dark eyes flashing. "Just let me work on you, Russ."
He leaned back on the sofa as her tiny hand lewdly caressed his iron-hard prick. She bent over it, her tongue flickering like the tongue of a snake, and she began to wet him, her soft, hot lips dripping saliva onto the pulsing shaft until it was slick and glistening. Then, her soft lips widely parted, she guided the huge head between them again.
Looking down at her kneeling figure between his legs, Russ Bourbon thought Mike looked more like a child than a woman-but there was nothing child-like about the way she was taking him now. With agonizing slowness, she sucked his rigid cock into the wet heat of her mouth. He saw the stark outline of it against her straining cheeks and didn't think it was possible. But a fraction of an inch at a time, his manhood was being lovingly absorbed.
Mike felt the thick rubbery cockhead finally pressing against her tonsils. She gagged but knew she could do it. Her slender fingers caught the hard-muscled thighs and she willed her throat muscles to relax.
"Ummmmmm...." she moaned in wanton desire.
And then, tightly clutching him, she drove her head down, felt the hot spear of flesh burst past her tonsils and deep into her throat. She held him tight, her nostrils flaring as she fought for breath. God, how big and beautiful he was! Her mouth had never been so filled before! Slowly she began to suck his staff, her bloated cheeks hollowing tight around it as her tongue slowly slid over the heavy-veined penis. Only when she was completely relaxed, no longer choked by the massive phallus, did she begin to move her eager mouth up and down. He lay back, and after several minutes she felt his hands close around her gliding head, not forcing her, because she needed no forcing.
"God! What a beautiful blow-job!" he groaned, beginning to undulate so that kneeling over his hot loins she felt his penis screwing deeper and deeper into her avid mouth. "God, you can turn a man on! Keep it up! I don't want to cum! I just want to be in your mouth!"
Mike rolled her dark eyes up at him as her lips, stretched to their limit, slowly slid up the thick length of his cock. The eyes said "thank you" and she went down again.
It went on and on, with agonizing slowness for both of them. Her mouth was drawn out on the upstroke like that of a feeding fish and then her soft, eager lips rolled tightly over her little white teeth as with a moan of pleasure she absorbed his penis deep into her hot, salivating throat again. Several times she found her petite body cramped and shifted to ease her aching knees, but she hardly felt the pain and the stiffness. It was so beautiful, having her mouth so deliciously filled. And Russ Bourbon was, she told herself, the greatest guy she'd ever gone down on. He had fabulous self-control! Most of the others couldn't stand the heat and teasing of her skilled lips. Within minutes they were grabbing her head and fucking violently into her mouth, hurting her. But he was reclining, just playing with her hair and letting her do it all.
In the dimness of her enraptured mind, she heard the faint sound of the timer going off, saying the negatives had washed enough. With a wet slurping sound she surrendered his hard cock from her loving lips, and found she could hardly speak.
"I think it's time," she managed to say, licking her lust-swollen lips and managing a wanton smile. "And my mouth is getting tired."
"It should be-you've been working on me for over an hour," he said. "I've been holding it for you ... my balls are ready to blow up."
"All right ... I want every drop," Mike replied.
Then she gulped him into her eager lips again, into the steaming wet cavern of her mouth and throat, her head now bobbing furiously over his wet genitals. The room was filled with the sounds of her eagerly consuming mouth and Russ thought she was going to suck his prick right off his body as he fucked into her passion-contorted face.
"Oh, I'm cuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!!!" he cried, and grabbed her head as he screwed into her devouring lips.
Mike felt the urgent swelling of his cock and then as her tongue slithered like a lizard along the underside, the pulsing of his hot semen as it spurted in choking jets from the jerking penis which her lips ovaled so tightly. Time after time her mouth was filled with this thick, rich cum and she swallowed in spasms, feeling it burn its way down her throat and into the quaking vault of her little belly.
"Uuuummmmmmnnnn!!!" she moaned, her lips refusing to let him go as her tiny pink tongue sought for every drop of the sweet male nectar. Her pussy tingled as the eroticism of the moment set off her own magnificent orgasm and her loins boiled and seeped with her spontaneous cumming. She found it difficult to believe that he'd cum in his wife's hand such a short time ago. Ravenously she sucked him until his penis was soft between her demanding lips and Russ was gasping in spent pleasure. Finally she reluctantly let his maleness slip from her all-devouring mouth, but continued to lick and kiss it reverently as she mumbled thickly, "Oh, so nice ... so beautiful ... like sweet whipped cream...."
A long, thin whitish string of cum trailed from her mouth as finally the tiny girl straightened up, still swallowing.
"Whew!" he whispered as he pulled her to him and kissed her semen-glistening lips. "God, what a beautiful little cocksucker!"
Cocksucker!
Mike didn't like to think of herself in that way, but she had to face it. She returned his kiss, panting with her own completion and said, "I'm a scrawny little thing ... I have to try harder."
"Good things come in small packages," he said, sliding his hand up between her splayed legs to fondle her pussy. "No lie ... you're the best I've ever met. Hell, a woman like you...."
"Not very many men bother to look to see if I am a woman," she said. "I'm used to it."
"That, little one, is all in your head," Russ said. "If I could do an instant replay, I would."
"Oh, I know I give good head," Mike said. "It's the only thing men want from me." She fished for a cigarette and lit it before he could find his lighter. "Know something? Most of the men I have sex with are homosexuals. I'm so skinny they can pretend I'm a boy when I'm down on them. And I sort of like them, because they're not rough or aggressive, even when they want me to kneel and let them in my bottom. They're not likely to hurt me the way straight guys do ... just ram into me and not care that it hurts at first. I can let myself go ... you know?"
His hand reached up under her short dress and he stroked the smooth, warm round cheeks of her ass as the tiny girl squirmed in his arms and made happy sounds.
"This is an all-girl ass," he said. "Save me a piece."
"I don't want to screw up your relationship with Julie," the gamin-faced girl said seriously.
"You're more woman than she'll ever be, Mike," he said seriously. "I really think she'd like me to have someone to take the pressure off her. I keep wanting all these things she won't do, you know?"
"Vegas is full of pneumatic girls," she countered.
"Fuck them!" he shot back. "Julie's a great straight lay. But you ... I want to fuck you every way there is! In the mouth, up this tight little ass ... and I want to eat you until you scream for mercy."
"Oh, wow! What a proposition." She laughed, pleased.
"And get that damn tit-fixation out of your head!" the aroused photographer went on. "The next time I'm with you, I want you bare-ass naked-or I don't want you!"
"Yes, Russ," Mike said meekly. Her obscenely seeking hand found his wet, flaccid cock and tucked it back into his pants. The tiny woman was stunned to think this handsome man would want her. She knew she was good at sex ... she had to be, to find a man even for one time. How often had it happened that she had subjugated herself, giving them pleasure with her mouth, or parting her clenching asscheeks, or anything they wanted, and then been discarded the first time something with tits walked by? Well, Julie had the tits, all right, but she sounded like the coldest of fishes. "If you want me ... any way. But hadn't we better get on with printing those shots?"
* * *
Julie Bourbon awoke restlessly in the strange room at about 4 a.m., the hour when medical science has found the human body to be at its weakest; when, in the long-term seriously ill person, death is most likely to occur. There was a sinking feeling in her solar plexus and she thought she had acted like a petulant child with her young husband. He must have been totally exhausted by his long day and she, tired herself, had flared up when Russ shot his cum into her lewdly groping hand. Well, his plea that she use her sensual mouth on him so he could give her what she needed most had been spurned. Although she coudn't even think of doing such a thing, she could have been diplomatic and understanding in the circumstances, the drowsy blonde girl told herself.
She realized several hours had passed-maybe Russ had cooled down. He might even have rejuvenated himself to the point where he could give her what she needed most-a hard, wild fucking! Impulsively, now willing to crawl to him, she reached for the phone.
It buzzed and buzzed interminably in her ear, until finally an unfamiliar male voice came on the line. "Mrs. Bourbon, this is Agent DeCosta. We met earlier. Your husband had to go to work."
"What're you doing on the line?" she demanded, fishing for a cigarette from her purse. "Has anything happened?"
"No, no, everything is fine," the voice assured her. "Just as a precaution we put a phone cover on the line to your apartment. There was a call for Mister Bourbon a few minutes after you moved into the room you're using. The switchboard operator stayed on the line only long enough to establish the nature of the call. The other party-represented an advertising agency. Apparently there were some films taken yesterday and it was important they be developed immediately. The operator left the line then, but a few minutes later Mister Bourbon departed."
"Oh," Julie said, puffing on her cigarette, vastly relieved. "That must have been Mister Kellog."
"It sounded like a secretary."
"Oh, sure," Julie said confidently. "I've met Mister Kellogg's secretary. Well, if Russ is working all night, maybe he'll forget to be mad at me."
With a muted chuckle, the tawny-haired bride finished her cigarette and went back to bed. She thought Russ must have been really delighted to be called out in the middle of the night, right after a serious argument, to go through the tedious process of printing pictures. And called by a secretary who, although she had a beautiful face, carried no more weight on her limbs than a canary bird.
Grinning, thinking of her own lush woman's figure, Julie drifted off to sleep again....
CHAPTER THREE
"Russ, Fat Fairy Godmother is absolutey delighted with the final prints ... I think you've got steady work," Mike said in the reception room of Ken Kellogg's advertising agency several days later. She swung around in her chair, flashing her good legs, bare almost to the hips, and wanting him. Yet something had warned her to keep the handsome photographer at a distance, at least for the present. But it was nice having him look at her like a woman and know he wanted her despite his big-titted wife. She was sure she could never compete with the glamor of Julie but if she used the female right to tease a little she was sure he'd let her blow him, and just having that was enough. She flipped through a file folder and said, "The shots they want blown up are all listed. They'd like them in the mail within a week."
"Beautiful," he said, his eyes on her slightly parted lips as he thought of how beautifully they sucked. Right now he wanted to cross the room, pull his cock out and plunge it deep between them into the hot wetness of her mouth. Julie had come back, but things hadn't improved much. He had fucked her once, for all of two minutes. "When can I get together with Ken?"
"Oh, I'm glad you reminded me," she said. "Chris and Shawna Gael are back and he's having lunch with them at the Rainbow. He'd like you there at two o'clock so he can introduce you. He said to bring Julie."
"You going to be there?" Russ asked, trying to sound casual.
"I have to mind the store." The elfin secretary winked.
"Later?"
She scribbled a phone number and address on a note pad and passed it to him, saying, "Call me at home ... but I don't think you'll have time for a few days. You'll be to busy fighting off rape by Shawna or recovering from it."
"Oh, sooooo...." Russ muttered. "I'll let you know."
* * *
Russ phoned first and then went to change clothes and pick up Julie. He realized he had an aching hard-on and wondered how a little bitsy thin girl like Mike could make him that way when he could hardly get it up for Julie. But then she wasn't skinny, not at all. Just tiny and self-conscious about it and willing to do anything just to be with a man. Hell, she'd given him the best blow-job he'd ever found anywhere, and come right out and told him he could fuck her in the ass ... and what a taut, pretty little ass it was! Russ still loved Julie, but her damn hangups about sex were driving him up the wall. If ever a woman was made for fucking, Julie was, but she held back so much. She needed a shock that would jiggle her magnificent ass and make her realize what a woman was for.
Now she was unbelievably beautiful. As they made their way to the parked station wagon, her long pale hair gleamed in the hot Vegas sun and her golden tanned legs scissored smoothly, with a quick jiggle and clenching of her asscheeks as her high, wide-set breasts bounced under her thin summer dress, free and unfettered. As he helped her into the car, he pinched her taut buttocks and said, "Beautiful!"
"Oh, Russ!" Julie gasped, blushing but liking the attention. Russ had seemed preoccupied since their disastrous night and the one time they'd had sex had been unsatisfactory for both of them. She wondered if she should give in, be a bit more liberal in her thinking. It might stimulate him to the point where he could satisfy her yearning young pussy ... and, Julie had to face it ... she liked to be touched and fondled in all the sensitive places, even pinched on the buttocks playfully. By the standards under which she had been raised, such things were sinful, but they were fun!
She was well aware that oral love was widely approved now and she really wanted to try it. Yet it was too soon ... maybe if they had a really mellow night on the town, and enough drinks, she could do it. But every time he tried to kiss between her tender sleek thighs, she tightened up and just couldn't let him continue, any more than she could open her mouth for his penis. Resignedly, the limber tawny-haired bride thought a lot of married couples must have the same sort of problem.
Now Julie was looking forward to the luncheon. The Rainbow was a small but elegant restaurant several miles outside Vegas, noted for good food and discretion. She had heard there was a motel a few hundred yards down the road where lovers often paused after lunching in the dim English-pub atmosphere of the Rainbow. And she was excited at the prospect of meeting Chris and Shawna Gael. She was sure if Chris took a liking to Russ, he could steer some very good assignments to him. The one for the rag merchant with the faggot boy had been unexpectedly good but she knew these things took time to build. It would be months before the photos Russ took of her were published in trade journals and magazines and led to other jobs.
It was common knowledge that Chris Gael had offices in both Paris and London where he employed some of the finest photographers in the world. His particular specialty was industrial photography but he pretty well blanketed the field, covering all types of advertising with underlings and demanding the highest fees in the profession.
So why does he fool around with a common little photo club? Julie Bourbon had wondered about this several times and finally come to the conclusion it was nothing more than a bus driver's or postman's holiday.
The long-legged blonde bride was nervous, but the lunch went better than she had hoped, with Russ and Chris quickly becoming deeply involved in professional talk while she and Shawna chatted over their meal.
Chris looked quite young to have attained such success. Julie guessed him to be in his early thirties, although there were signs of dissipation around his eyes and he was turning prematurely gray at the temples. Yet he was unmistakably an intelligent, well-traveled man. One who smiled readily and charmingly and had a large repertoire of amusing stories about the great and near great he had photographed.
Shawna was a voluptuous creature with long, glistening reddish-brown hair and firm, ripe breasts almost spilling from the neckline of her short dress, which was slashed to her navel. Her eyes were slanted, a deep emerald green, her face still clasically beautiful although she freely confessed to being thirty years old. She was also very frank in her speaking.
"I was just another dumb model when I met the admirable maestro here," she said, her rich lips peeling back to show fine white teeth. "Well you know how it is when you work as closely as a photog and model. We bounced into bed. It was good enough so that after a couple of years we went out and got half smashed and made it legal. There wasn't much money then, but it was fun, and the money came later, just as it will to you and Russ." Under the table, the voluptuous redhead's hand dropped high on Julie's bare thigh, clutching. "Some free advice. You're a beautiful girl, but he'll be working with a lot of them. Some will try to steal him right off your hot body. So ball him silly every night. Make him fuck you so hard and often he couldn't get it up for anyone else!"
Julie blushed at the bluntness of the advice and at the same time thought there might be something valuable in it. She had a vague feeling that by her refusal to try any variety she might be pushing Russ toward other women who would give him what he wanted. She'd have to think about it, but now she wanted to change the subject because it was hitting too close to home.
"That's something I'll have to think about," Julie said, adding, "I don't understand, with Chris so busy, how he even has time to fool around with a photo club."
"This isn't an ordinary club, Julie," Shawna said, her hand moving slowly on Julie's thigh, but so lightly Julie didn't realize it. And she never would have recognized the desire in the deep-green eyes, because she had barely heard of bisexual women. "Its membership is about ninety-percent professional, and they're all very good. Nobody has time to read all the photography magazines and latest technical poop, so they kick ideas around. And they exchange markets, yap about technique and pick up a lot that no one working photog could find time to read up on. Now, Chris has seen some of the things Russ has done and thinks he has tremendous talent."
"I'm glad. Russ really works hard."
"Well, Chris and I talked and even before we met you, decided you must come to the next club meeting. That'll be five nights from now, at our rancho. I'll sketch you a map on how to get there. It's a small group, and very informal. Drinks and a pick-up dinner around the pool."
"Wonderful," Julie said, nibbling at the calorie-counted fruit salad that was her dessert.
A short time later, the luncheon broke up. Russ was more enthusiastic than she had seen him in monhts. His conversation with Chris Gael had been pleasant and he was eager to meet the other members of the club.
* * *
"Well, what do you think?" Chris asked his voluptuous wife as they drove out the Vegas Strip and she reclined in the deep leather seat of the Cadillac convertible. "Will they fit?"
"Beautifully," Shawna said. "I got the feeling he's already cheating on her, but not seriously. And Julie is really a naive little thing. I had my hand on her thigh, almost on her pussy, and she didn't seem to realize it. There wasn't any response at all ... but I think deep down inside she's one very hot little girl."
"If anyone can bring her out, you can, baby," he said, grinning. "Once you get that educated tongue of yours on her sweet little snatch, she'll go through the roof."
"I thought you'd want to try her first," Shawna said, grinning and grabbing for his penis.
The famous photographer laughed at their shared conspiracy and reaching to squeeze the full, tip-tilted globe of his wife's breasts said, "I know when I'm outclassed. Remember the Fillippino chick? The one you were down on for three hours a few months ago? Well, when I saw your tongue sliding up and down that cunt and drilling halfway into her belly I knew I was just an amateur cuntlapper watching a real pro at work. Christ, I thought you'd kill her!"
"Hey-pull in here!" Shawna said suddenly, pointing to a luxurious motel.
"What the hell for?"
"Damn it, I'm hot! I want you to eat me. Just touching that magnifico blonde has me hotter than hell! I want your tongue in my cunt ... and if you really work at it, I'll buy you a drink."
"Can't wait to get home?" he said, grinning.
"Motel matinees are a lot of fun, or are you such an old married man you don't remember?" the auburn-haired beauty chided. She wickedly winked her deep-green eye. "Eat my pussy until I'm out of my mind and we'll have them send in a jug of icy Vodka Collins and then you roll me over and fuck me in the ass!"
"How come I have to do all the work?" he said joking as the big car slithered into the shade of a canopy and he went in to register. They were well known here and always given a discreet detached cottage. Sometimes one of the teen-aged maids and a friend joined them ... eagerly, because they were generous with their tips. "The guy who said something like 'Man may work from sun to sun but woman's work is never done' never met you."
"Oh, you love it," the tall voluptuous woman said.
* * *
"Ooooohhhh ... aaaahhhh!!!" she moaned in pleasure nearly two hours later as his cock pulled out of her tightly clutching anus, wrapped tightly in tender pink flesh and trailing a long string of cum while her rectal muscles milked it. Her cunt was dripping with the remains of the cum Chris had brought on with his spearing hot tongue and lips. Shawna sighed and said in a near whisper, "Chris there's nothing for me like getting fucked in the ass ... and you know I like it all. It hurts so at first and then turns into wild pleasure."
"I wouldn't know about that sort of thing," he said, grinning and reaching to refill their glasses from the shaker in the ice bucket. He paused to light two cigarettes and put one in the passion-swollen mouth of his wife. Thoughtfully he continued, "You know something strange? It may sound weird, but I think Russ may be fucking Mike. Or maybe she's blowing him. There've been rumors that she gives great head."
"I think your bird just fell out of his tree," Shawna said with a mocking grin. "A wife like Julie ... what would he ever see in Mike? She might be a good lay, scrawny as she is, but he wouldn't need her."
"That sounds reasonable ... but when we were with Kellogg, her name came up a couple of times. He got tight and switched the subject. She may be built almost like a boy, but I'll tell you, any man would fight to bury his cock in those beautiful lips."
"You could have something, weird as it sounds," Shawna conceded. "I wonder what would happen if Julie caught her blowing him."
"It might just drive her into our loving arms," he said, draining his glass. "While I think of it, you haven't gone down on me for at least a week."
"I need something to work on," Shawna said mockingly, reaching with lewd grasping fingers to squeeze his flaccid penis. "This looks like an all-night project."
"We've got all night," he replied with a chuckle, pulling her head to his loins as her sensual mouth opened and her tongue began to search wetly around the shrunken cockhead. "And what are those beautiful lips for except sucking my cock?"
"Oh, eating cunt," she said with a lascivious laugh as she bent to her task, her fingers rolling his heavy balls.
Shawna felt his penis slowly hardening in her skilled, ardent mouth. She liked this, liked to be able to arouse Chris time after time. It was equally good with her girl friends, tasting the hot sweet juices that flowed from their flexing pussies into her mouth. And once she had them cumming so hard they were screaming it was really far out to slide over on the bed and watch Chris mount them and fuck like a demon into tender, spasming cunt until they were in such a frenzy all she had to do was squat over their lust-contorted faces and have them pull her grinding hips down to their sweating cheeks while their hot tongues speared to the very depths of her vagina....
Oh, it will be so nice, having Julie and Russ for playthings, the auburn-haired beauty thought as her husband's cock grew and grew, hardening, and finally exploded bullet like streams of hot, delicious cum into her ravenous lips.
Now they could nap. Then go back to the Rainbow for dinner. And then fuck all night. She might even ask him to use the belt on her.
* * *
Russ and Julie had different reactions to the meeting of the photo club. Most of the shop talk was far over Julie's head yet she could imagine her husband's antennae waving, picking up every little bit of information. In addition to Shawna and Chris Gael there were ten other camera experts with their wives or girl friends.
Julie had become restless, because since the fashion shooting she hadn't had a modeling assignment and her work was sometimes what kept them going while Russ waited for a check to come in. There had been a partial payment, really an advance against the billing, from Ken Kellogg's agency and what Russ actually got out of it would depend on how many photos were actually used, and in what way. It could take weeks or months, and meanwhile they had to meet the usual living expenses.
Russ on the other hand was enthusiastic, particularly as one of the guests turned out to be the editor of a highly successful slick magazine which split its contents between controversial articles and beautiful girls wearing little or nothing. He paid fabulous prices and once a photog got into his pages, his price could go up out of sight. His name was Carleton Harris and he was reputed to be worth at least twenty million dollars, every cent of which he had earned himself, more by creating a market than finding one. A slender, soft-spoken man, he smoked gold-tipped cigarettes and drank nothing stronger than root beer. And he was showing an interest in Russ and Julie.
"Ken Kellogg showed me proofs of the series your wife did for the rag merchant," Harris said. "She could be our centerfold girl."
"Afraid there's not much chance," Russ said, shrugging as they stood in the shade of a pepper tree by the side of the kidney-shaped swimming pool. "Julie is an old-fashioned girl ... she won't do nudes."
"Not even if you shoot them in privacy?" Harris pressed.
"She'd want to at least change her appearance ... afraid of what her folks would think."
"That's a common problem ... which usually vanishes when about eight thousand dollars appear." Harris grinned. "You might at least sound her out ... and maybe Chris and Shawna will help. If you have no objection."
"I think it's a great idea, and not just because of the money," Russ replied. "Julie's attitudes are ... old fashioned. She really needs to loosen up a little."
"Suppose I have a quiet talk with Chris and Shawna," the publisher said, winking.
"Maybe you could get Shawna to pose," Russ suggested.
"She's in a big spread in our November book already," Harris said. "Real artistry, with another girl. Low-key stuff, but the most erotic layout you could imagine. When you have a chance, get Chris to show you the rough shots. Nothing gets male readers hotter than seeing two beautiful girls making it together."
"You're going to publish that?" Russ was astounded. He knew the magazine well and had always considered it erotic but not pornographic, and this sounded like pornography.
"None of the actual sex, but suggestive. The girls holding hands, kissing, caressing," Harris explained. "When they got to the point of going down on each other and sixty-nining, well, from there on it was just for the private collection. Understand?"
"I'd like to see the whole series sometime," said Russ with a grin. But at the same time he glanced across the pool to a shaded table, studying his voluptuous blonde wife as she sat talking animatedly with Shawna Gael.
He saw Shawna's hand touching, lightly caressing Julie's bare knees, and Julie apparently not noticing. For a moment anger rose in him and then he had second thoughts. Julie was just too repressed. If Shawna led her into a little girl sex, then maybe she'd do some special things for him because of guilt feelings. And she might-just might, if confronted with an accusation of having a lesbian affair-agree to the nude shots Harris wanted. They could sure use the money.
* * *
Julie was actually oblivious to the fingers caressing the hot flesh of her thigh as Shawna talked. She'd had several drinks and the heat of the day was making her mind a little unclear. Shawna was talking about modeling in a low, sultry voice.
"Julie, I think Carleton Harris would like you to pose for his centerfold layout," she said confidingly. "I know him, and he's been looking your way all afternoon."
"I've seen that magazine," Julie said crisply. "And it's a little far out for me. I'd rather wait tables than do nudes."
"You're confusing porn and art," Shawna said firmly. "If you go to a museum and see a magnificent nude painted hundreds of years ago, are you offended?"
"Well ... noooo," Julie admitted.
"Take a stroll through the Louvre sometime and see what they have on the walls. Millions of people have looked at those masterpieces and come away stunned by their beauty. Now, Carleton Harris publishes equally beautiful things, but in a different medium ... one which reaches millions every month."
"Who wants to be ogled by millions?" the tawny-haired girl asked.
"If the work is exquisite, I do!" Shawna retorted, squeezing the smooth flesh of Julie's upper thigh. "Do you think I'd pose for anything obscene?"
"Of course not," Julie replied immediately.
"Well, you just come with me into the house and I'll show you an advance copy of Harris' mag. I'm the back-of-the-book girl and I defy you to find anything obscene in it ... unless you think the human body is obscene."
Somewhat stunned and woozy from the heat and drinks, Julie let herself be led into the rambling, air-conditioned house. Chris had a full laboratory set up there, and an adjoining room was well equipped for viewing and editing. Throughout the magnificent house, which Julie guessed had cost at least a quarter of a million dollars with its lushly landscaped ground in the middle of a barren desert there were scores of matted oversize prints in both black and white and color on the walls. Julie silently admitted that Chris Gael was indeed an artist with his camera. She had thought Russ was good, but compared to Chris, he was barely out of the amateur class, and if the older man would help him with his career it would be a godsend.
"Here's the mag with little me," said Shawna, selecting a copy from a filing case. "Flip through it and while you're doing that I'll put the master slides and we can look at them in the projection room. You'll see the shots used in the magazine are much softer, more diffused than the originals."
"Okay," Julie agreed. In her scanty bikini, she suddenly felt cold in the air-conditioned house. She followed Shawna into a dim room in which both slide projectors and a large motion-picture projector were flanked by comfortable chairs and couches. There was even a small bar, and Julie didn't protest as Shawna mixed her a gin-and-tonic. As the auburn-haired woman began pulling slide magazines from a concealed bank of filing cabinets, Julie began to flip through the magazine. Her eyes widened when she saw the photo layout and she gasped, "Oh, gosh!"
She was stunned. She had expected to see Shawna naked ... but except for the full frontal shots, she wasn't alone, but with another beautiful girl. They were holding hands and kissing and fondling each other. In one full-page shot they lay together in tall grass, their long legs entwined, and Shaw-na's sultry mouth, with the pink tip of her tongue sliding wetly over her lips, was bending over the other girl's firmly rounded breasts as her partner lay with her eyes nearly shut and a hand at the back of Shawna's head, drawing it downward to her breast. The setting was an idyllic glade. In another photo, Shawna knelt before the other girl, who was standing, running her hands through a mass of blonde hair as Shawna's hands were drawing the front of her faded jeans open and Shawna's face was pressed tight to her belly, her cheek brushing the soft triangle of pubic hair. Her cunt wasn't visible, but it was obvious what was about to happen.
The photos were accompanied by low-keyed text which strove to make the point that love between two women could be beautiful.
"Oh, my God!" Julie whispered as she read on and her dark eyes returned repeatedly to one photo or another. As the first shock wore off, she carefully read the text and examined the picture spread. Attempting to be objective, she finally had to admit to herself that she could find nothing obscene or vulgar-and even to wonder what it would be like to pose for such a thing. Would she become excited, holding another girl, kissing her? This was something she'd never even thought of before and she ruefully admitted that it could happen. How could you be in such intimate contact with another person without feeling something? Her head swiming, she mumbled, "They are ... very well done."
"Then you don't think they're dirty?" Shawna pressed.
"No ... in a way, it's beautiful," Julie confessed.
"There are seventeen pictures in that layout," Shawna said. "To get them, Chris made over seven-hundred shots. I'll show you a few of the slides that didn't make it because the light or facial expression or positions were wrong." She switched on the automatic slide projector and fed a magazine into, adjusting the focus on the big screen which covered most of the opposite wall.
The brilliant transparencies began to click through at ten-second intervals. Julie found herself mesmerized by the images of Shawna and her partner. It seemed Chris Gael must have worked on this assignment the same way Russ had shot the fashion job-with a motor-driven camera, moving all the time as the two models went through the sequences naturally rather than posing for individual shots. There was a series from which the one of Shawna about to kiss the blonde's breast appeared.
It began with Shawna kissing the other girl's ear, her tongue extended. And then their mouths were glued together. Four shots later, Shawna's wet lips were enclosing the nipple of the blonde's breast while her hand squeezed the other breast, hardening the tiny berry-like nipple.
And then she gradually moved lower, her fingers seeking in the pale triangle of pubic hair as her dreamy-eyed face lay on her partner's softly rounded belly.
Julie Bourbon gasped in disbelief when she saw the next frame.
Shawna was kneeling between the other girl's wide-splayed legs and her long wetly pink tongue was slithering into the coral-hued depths of the girl's vagina!
And they both had such blissful expressions on their faces!
Click! Another slide moved behind the lens and this one showed the sleek thighs of the pale-haired girl locked tightly around the burrowing face.
"Shawna!" Julie, her face going white with shock, and then blushing furiously red, stared at her hostess, who was at the moment refreshing their drinks and facing away from the screen.
"Oh, damn!" Shawna said in faked annoyance. "I'm sorry, honey. I thought those were all weeded out."
She stopped the projector, plucked out the offending transparencies and flipped them into a wastebasket as she shrugged and said, "Things get a little out of hand sometimes. And let's face it-I'm not exactly an angel. That was a very long shooting session and I got excited, I guess. It doesn't happen often but I remember that Chris and I were having one of our periodic beefs. I guess I wanted to show him something ... and when you put in about five hours caressing and kissing anybody, it gets to you!"
"And ... what ... did ... he ... do?" the bewildered Julie asked.
"Chris is cool. He left us alone." Shawna tossed her long hair and smiled knowingly. "He knew I was hacked at him and that I was just in the mood to say 'yes' to the first guy who wanted to fuck me. He'd rather have me blow my frustration with a girl than another man."
"I'm-I'm confused," the young tawny-haired bride mumbled.
"I didn't mean to blow your mind, Julie," Shawna lied. "It never occurred to me those shots were in there. Well, I guess you won't want to look at any more art."
"No."
"Well, try to forget it if you can," Shawna said. "Maybe we should go back to the party."
They did. The aftershock of what she had seen on the screen began to hit Julie Bourbon and she drank more than she ever had in her life. She could hardly wait to get Russ aside and tell him, but he was obviously involved with Chris Gael and Carleton Harris. She knew this meeting could be very important to her husband's budding career and didn't want to interrupt, so she drifted from one group to another, steadying her nerves with drink after drink brought by a houseboy, and barely nibbling at the lavish buffet which had been set out. Visions of Shawna with the other model kept flashing through her mind like bursts of multicolored lights seen through a kaleidoscope and as the alcohol fogged her brain she began to see it a little bit Shawna's way.
Of course, she could never have sex with a woman, even as a one-time experiment, but it was sort of exciting to think of others doing it. At one point she almost asked Shawna to show the rest of the slides.
CHAPTER FOUR
"I tell you I know Julie and she won't go for it," Russ Bourbon insisted as he talked in a quiet corner with Carleton Harris and Chris Gael. "She won't even pose naked, let alone with a man, even if it's me. Now hell, I'm a pro! A job is a job. But I can't get that through her head."
"Russ, think of the ten grand, and the name you'd be making," Chris argued.
"Damn it, Vegas is full of beautiful chicks for skin shots," Russ argued. "Look, Carleton, let me line up a couple of models and shoot the layout on spec."
"No way," the editor said firmly, his earlier friendliness now turning to cold. "I want Julie because she's fresh and young and we need a heterosexual spread to follow the lesbian layout. Goddamn it, if Shawna can do that kind of number why can't your wife? Shit, we're not asking her to fuck on camera."
"I know," Russ conceded. He felt like a donkey with a carrot dangled in front of his nose, but this maybe the most important carrot of his life. And it was high time Julie quit acting like a nun. He would just have to be firm in maneuvering her, and that might take a little time. He said, "Let me work on her."
"I can give you two weeks. Otherwise I'll have to find another girl ... and another photographer, Bourbon," the editor said. "If you can produce, you'll have a lot of high-fee work. But you can understand why a magazine with a circulation of over six-million paid can't wait on the whims of a prudish little girl."
"I know," Russ grated. "I'll take care of Julie."
"I think there's only one answer," Chris said after the editor had left to catch a night flight to the East Coast. "Russ, we have to present Julie with a fait accompli."
"I'm not sure what you mean," the young photographer said slowly.
"She's young, pretty and not too bright." He glanced around and caught sight of a somewhat wavering Julie in the lights which had now been turned on by the pool. He knew Shawna had managed to carry off the shocker scene to perfection and also knew that Russ was a hungry young man on the way up, willing to discard scruples in favor of advancement. "Also a little bit tipsy at the moment. Now, we'll have to play the cards as they fall, but you two stay here tonight, after the others leave. Fake being drunk, and Shawna and I'll do likewise so we've an excuse not to drive you home. The phone will be turned off, so we can't call a cab. The houseboy is going home, so there'll just be the four of us."
"So it's blackmail ... but subtle blackmail." Russ thought about it for a minute, then finally said, "How?"
"Leave that to Shawna." The older man winked. "Give her plenty of time and she'll have Julie climbing the walls."
"You mean Shawna...." Russ mumbled.
"Shawna swings both ways and don't think that if she sets her mind to it, she can't steal any girl out from under you ... or me." Chris grinned and lit a cigarette. "Of course, you catch them and raise hell. Don't beat on Julie-bruises aren't pretty-and then you take her home and put in a few days keeping her in the doghouse. You're ready to forgive her if she'll pose for Harris. And while you've got her over a barrel, lay an even heavier scene on her. Find yourself some cunt and stay out all night, and let it get back to her ... she'll figure she's going to lose you. She'll do the number then. Guaranteed."
"I should knock you right on your ass," Russ said.
"All right, I'm a prick," the other replied amiably as he gestured to the expensive house and grounds. "I didn't get this by being a nice guy ... or letting any pretty little quiff stand in the way. Our world is full of pussy. Remember that! You get a chick that goes along and helps you every way, like Shawna. Or you get yourself a millstone to hang around your neck and you're lucky to wind up with a two-room commercial studio in some place like Grants Pass, Oregon. A ten-year-old car and nobody will give you a mortgage for a house. Think about it."
Russ thought, balancing luxury against poverty, and his decision was almost immediate. If Julie was half the sensual creature little Mike was, he would have pondered longer, but as it was, her stiff-necked attitudes toward sex had virtually castrated him. This would be rough on her, but maybe for her own good....
"Yes," he said. "Arrange it."
* * *
Julie Bourbon kept thinking she was drunk and should go home. The party had broken up and only she and Russ were left. And he was someplace in the big house talking photography and markets and things like that with Chris Gael. Knowing how important this could be to him, she didn't want to intrude and ask him to take her home.
And she had Shawna to talk to. By now her drink-fuzzed brain had accepted Shawna's bisexuality and it no longer bothered her.
To the tawny-haired girl it seemed they must all be a little drunk. It had been a long, hot afternoon by the pool and the liquor had flowed copiously. There had been plenty to eat, but she hadn't felt hungry ... she had almost been too nervous to eat anything. Julie sat in a deeply upholstered chair in the game room, watching a situation comedy on television with Shawna. She seemed to be sticking to the chair and finally muttered, "Darn suntan lotion-it's worse than glue."
"I'm thinking the same thing," Shawna agreed as from a bar cart she poured Julie her third Pernod over the ice. "I think we should scrub the stuff off, after this one."
"A shower might be great for me," Julie mumbled as she sipped the licorice-flavored pale-green liqueur. "My head is spinning."
"You were out in the hot sun a long time. Drink up and let's get it over with while our men are talking."
To Julie it seemed like a fine idea. She stood and swayed on her long, shapely legs, trying to bring the room into focus. And then Shawna, her own dark tresses swaying, was leading her through the big house by the hand, into a vast mirrored bedroom which adjoined a combination bath and dressing room. From a wardrobe Shawna took short terry-cloth bathrobes and shower caps. Towels were already laid out. The opaque door to the shower stood open and Julie found herself staring at the veined-marbled walls and fixtures which she knew instinctively were gold. She had read of such things in magazines but never actually seen one before. Shawna was stepping out of her tiny bikini, freeing her bountiful breasts and then casually dropping the triangular scrap of cloth which covered her smooth loins.
Julie hesitated. In college, living in a dorm, she had thought nothing of being naked with the other coeds in the shower room. But through her mind flashed the picture of Shawna making love with the blonde model. Then, her natural suspicions dimmed by the liquor she had consumed, she told herself nothing like that could happen, not with Russ and Chris in the house. And hadn't Shawna said it was a spontaneous thing brought on by prolonged physical contact with the other girl? Well, she was old enough to take care of herself!
Nevertheless, she turned her back as she unhooked the flimsy top of her bikini and let her breasts escape their confinement. She thought she must be getting bigger because there were red lines impressed into the resilient white globes. Bending, she sent the bottom of the revealing swimsuit slithering down her long sun-tanned legs as Shawna started the bank of shower sprays going.
"Whoops!" Julie gulped as, stepping into the pummeling blast of water, she nearly fell. Shawna was standing spreadeagled, her body taking the full force of the stream as she lathered herself with scented soap. Her firm breasts jiggled and Julie could see the thrusting spikes of her nipples growing longer as slowly Shawna's fingers began to rub rich lather into her nearly alabaster body, lingering in the dark-reddish bush of her pubic hair. Julie reached for a cake of soap and began to scrub at the sticky suntan lotion. Bending, she became dizzy and nearly fell but quickly Shawna caught her and set her on her feet again. "I think I drank too much," Julie said. "I never drink!"
"It's from all the heat you took, Julie," Shawna said comfortingly. But the auburn-haired bisexual wife knew better. It was the liquor. She'd really slugged the innocent blonde beauty with the three Pernods and the innocent-tasting aphrodisiac would begin to hit the taffy-haired girl in a few minutes, insidiously drawing her into a carefully prepared web. Chris had managed to whisper the news that the proposition had been put to Russ and that the younger man was willing to sacrifice his wife on their altar of lust, to which Shawna, with a wicked flickering of her long, skilled tongue had said, "I'll do my part, lover."
"Yeah ... you'll eat the prettiest pussy in Vegas and I'll get nothing."
"You know better," Shawna had replied lewdly. "You'll get the best trip around the world you ever had!"
Now Julie was losing coordination. Repeatedly she dropped the soap and had to fumble for it in the torrent of water, and then she felt Shawna's hands steadying her and heard the other's voice.
"Hey, maybe you did have a little too much to drink! I'll help you finish your shower and then you can take a nap until Russ is ready to go home."
Blinking, trying to focus deep-dark eyes which suddenly wouldn't track, Julie felt the deft hands washing her trembling body. Deep in her little flat belly she tingled as fingers slipped lightly along the pale-furred cleft of her cunt and caressed her breasts. She thought she should object, but it did feel gooood....
And then she was being helped into the carpeted dressing room, bracing herself against a weaving wall for support as, using a huge fluffy towel, Shawna patted her dry. Then Julie sat on a cushioned stool and watched Shawna wipe her own flesh dry.
And then, unprotesting, Julie allowed herself to be led to the opulent bedroom adjoining. The air conditioning had been turned off and it was comfortably warm. With a sigh of relief, she let herself tumble onto the king-sized bed that was illuminated by tricky lamps giving the effect of flickering candlelight, and she drowsily found them hypnotic.
"Just take a little sleep, Julie," Shawna was saying. "Half an hour and you'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again. I'll leave the dim lights on so you won't be confused when you wake up."
"You're nice, Shawna," Julie murmured, closing her eyes and beginning to drift. Her head was still spinning, but not so badly now that she was lying in this wonderful big soft bed with the restful lighting. The slender girl with wheat-hued hair let herself sink into the luxury, wondering if she and Russ would ever have anything like this. She heard the soft click of the door as the rich-bodied woman left, and for perhaps ten minutes was able to relax completely. And then there was a subtle restlessness in her loins. She wanted Russ to be with her, his penis long and iron-hard, plunging like a hot piston into her vagina. She could feel the soft lips of her pussy flowering open ... and she knew it was a futile hope. Russ had been drinking, and it seemed that if he took only one or two drinks, he couldn't get an erection these days. Restlessly Julie Bourbon's yearning young body began to undulate on the bed, and her fingers searched for her cuntal cleft. They found their seething target and began to rub and probe and go deep into her desire-filled cunt and even as she lay on the thin border of sleep, the taffy-haired girl began to pant.
Through a two-way mirror in the adjoining room, Shawna Gael watched with mounting desire and anticipation. Finally she turned her sensuous body away, reluctantly abandoning her voyeurism for the moment and padded on bare feet to the richly appointed den where Chris and Russ were waiting. She flashed her passion-heavy smile at them and said, "It's beautiful! She's half asleep and so hot she's playing with herself."
"That I'd like to see," Chris said.
"You stay behind that mirror until I've had at least an hour with her," Shawna said curtly. "You know how I am! I have to be with a girl awhile, get myself and her worked up. And after that I don't care if you put it on network television. And Russ-we took a shower together, and Julie's really responsive."
"Meaning what?" the slender, dark-haired photographer asked.
"She may want to do me," Shawna said.
"Horse shit!" Russ retorted. "Julie'd never ... I mean, she's going to be shook as hell with just you touching her. You'll be lucky if she doesn't claw your eyes out!"
"I know more about women than you do," Shawna told him. "Now if she does get the urge and you catch her in the act, there's no chance she'll dare argue with you on doing the layout for Harris." She smiled wickedly and bent low to pick a cigarette from a leather box on the table. "And it might spring loose some of her inhibitions. She might want to sock your cock."
"Russ Bourbon, instant pimp," he said in bitter self-accusation. "You could have a point. So, go get in bed with her and eat her like candy."
When Shawna returned to the room the Pernod-drugged blonde bride was moaning softly, hardly moving, her fingers slowly sliding in and out of the aroused lips of her cunt, playing languorously with the soft, pale curls which framed it. Almost without a sound the excited auburn-haired woman turned down the soft lights. Then slipping her robe off she lay on the bed, careful not to rock it.
"Ummmmmm...." Julie murmured, stroking her lubricious young pussy and in her half-awakened state feeling consuming carnal desire. When Shawna brushed her gleaming dark hair back and bent low over Julie to kiss her lightly but searchingly on her hungrily parted lips the tawny-haired girl made no protest. Instead her mouth slowly opened and welcomed the probing tongue of the older woman. She sighed, "Ooooohhhh ... Russssss!!!"
Gradually, with a skill learned over the years, Shawna increased the pressure of the kiss and its passionate intensity, easing her deft tongue deep into Julie's virgin mouth, which was now beginning to suck. Julie began to tremble and undulate her smooth loins as Shawna's hand gently closed over Julie's resilient white breast and caress it, the fingers lightly pinching the rising bud of nipple. Julie's eyes were closed in reverie and her arm snaked around Shawna's neck and held her urgently as their tongues dueled. She was panting with rising passion when Shawna eased off the kiss, very slowly breaking away, and, her long tongue flickering, kissed down between the up-thrust mounds of Julie's quivering breasts until her soft, wet lips closed on a nipple and began to suck, first very lightly and then more demandingly as she felt the young blonde wife respond to what she thought was her husband's lovemaking. Now her golden legs began to scissor slowly, thighs rubbing together as a sheen of perspiration broke out on them.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh...." Julie sighed, here eyes closed in rupture.
She felt a hand moving between her legs, spreading the sensitive inner flesh of her thighs, and with a groan of desire parted them wide as the fingers ... strange, Russ' hands had always been rougher before; it must be all she had to drink ... finally brushed feather-light over the blood-engorged lips of her yearning young pussy. The hot wet mouth was slowly kissing lower and lower now, across the smoothness of her quaking belly. She almost cried out her wanton desire as the seeking mouth continued its journey. When the lashing tongue moved to the inside of her wide-splayed legs, she wanted to object-this was something she had always denied Russ-but the words wouldn't come.
The squirming golden-maned girl could only think of the wild carnal desire that had every nerve end in her quivering body on the tingle as she began slow, rhythmical coital motions, thrusting her pale-tufted mound of Venus up, begging for Russ to fill it with his cock.
But it wasn't a cock which answered her groaning plea, but the hot wet mouth and long, darting tongue that slashed up and down the full length of her seeping vaginal slit while hands caressed her trembling body in a tantalizing slow massage.
"Ooooooohhhhhh ... you shouldn't!!!" Julie moaned, but the movements of her voluptuous young body denied the sincerity of the words. It was the most delightful sensation she had ever experienced as the deftly swirling tongue slithered like a snake into the depths of her clenching pussy and then back out to flicker like hummingbird wings over the hardened bud of her clitoris. Spasming, she locked her hot thighs around the burrowing face and began to fuck up to mouth as her natural carnality took over. "But it feels so gooooddd!!!"
Out of control, the aroused young bride could only roll and thrash on the bed and whimper her pleasure until after a long time she felt the tidal wave of her orgasm begin deep in the churning depths of her loins and the heat of her juice gushing down to the palpitating lips of her gaping cunt. Only then did she open her eyes.
"My God!" Julie gasped when she saw, bobbing frantically between her sinuously moving legs, not the face of her husband but the passion-contorted features of Shawna Gael! The shock froze her momentarily, her back arched with the urgency of her climax and she gasped, "Jesus!"
"You want me to stop now, darling?" Shawna said, starting to rise from her subserviently kneeling position. "I will...."
"Aaaaaauuuugggghhhh!!!" Julie Bourbon almost screamed as wildly she grabbed the beautiful auburn-haired head and violently pulled it back to her gushing vaginal mouth. She didn't know how this had happened, but it was so overwhelming she knew she could keep cumming all night.
Repentance could come later. This was a time for savage lust. She begged, "Eat meeeeeee!!! Ooooohhhh!!!"
Julie lost count of how many times the hot wetly sucking mouth and probing tongue brought her to ecstasy. And when Shawna finally broke the oral contact, almost in tears knowing the sensual delight was about to end, Julie pleaded, "Just a little more ... your mouth is so soft...."
"And my neck feels like it's about to break, baby," Shawna said. "Every time you hump up it's like getting hit in the jaw by a pro boxer." Reading the naked savage desire on Julie's lust-twisted feature, she knew now was the moment to make her move, while the passion-drenched young girl was still burning with an unquenchable fire in her seething sweet little cunt. Shawna lifted herself from the vee of Julie's trembling long legs and, twisting, settled down so they were face-to-loins as she nudged Julie from her back onto her side. Drawing the blonde's legs apart, Shawna again buried her face in the sweet cuntal well, at the same time shifting so their bodies touched closely and parting her own long, shapely legs as she sinuously ground her pubic mound toward Julie's face that was so close Shawna could feel the heat of Julie's excited breathing on her cunt. She reached to stroke Julie's trembling back, her hand moving higher and higher until it was gently but insistently pressing on the back of Julie's tangled mass of pale hair.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!" Julie cried out in the torment of surrender to her unnatural desires. She couldn't help herself, and now understood what Shawna had meant about impulses when you're in close physical contact with another beautiful woman. With shaking fingers she parted the ragged fringes of Shawna's pussylips and stared at the dewy gleaming coral-flushed flesh of her labia for only a few seconds before ravenously gluing her virginal mouth to it and jabbing desperately with the tip of her slender pink tongue. Her passionate lips sucked the pungent sweetness of the cuntal mouth as her nostrils flared and she breathed the heady female secretions even as she wildly ground her own dripping pubis against Shawna's more skilled but no more avid mouth. She groaned with mounting desire as she sought every way to lick and kiss and suck this delicious cunt. "Uuuummmmmmmmm...."
How is something like this happening to me? Julie asked herself in a delirium of carnal licking as her frenzied fingers closed tightly over Shawna's clenching ass cheecks and pulled her closer.
* * *
"I'll be goddamned," Russ Bourbon muttered in sheer awe as he and Chris Gael, from behind the two-way mirror, watched the two tightly entwined women roll on the bed as their passion reached a new peak. "Julie ... queer!"
"Not queer, Russ ... just getting liberated," the older photographer said, snapping a picture.
"Wait until they cum again, and then we do the outraged-husband number, okay?"
"Yeah," the stunned younger man muttered. "Sure."
* * *
Thrashing in the pale light, their long hair flailing, the two lesbian lovers sought new peaks of sensual pleasure. Against her ravenous lips and plunging tongue, Julie Bourbon felt the wild spasming begin in the juice-seeping loins of Shawna, and then a shudder that seemed to rip her body apart. Instinctively Julie glued her hot mouth to the jerking pussy as her tongue swirled over the tiny hard button of Shawna's clitoris ... and suddenly it happened!
A great gush of hot, savory cum flooded into her eagerly devouring mouth, even as once again she rose to a peak of flesh-ripping orgasm. Julie gulped and licked and sucked and breathed the rich aroma of aroused womanhood until she was weak. Equally exhausted, if not more so, the auburn-haired girl released her frantic grip on Julie and they fell apart, now only lightly kissing and licking each other's wetly glistening cunts.
"What a beautiful fucking sight!"
As if struck by lightning, Julie rolled away from her girl-lover, still swallowing the sweet cuntjuice as she stared in horror into the dark accusing eyes of her obviously enraged young husband.
"Oooh, Russ...." she sobbed.
"Lesbian bitch!" he shouted and started toward her, his fists clenched, his mouth tight. "You won't suck my cock but you jump in bed and eat her cunt! I'm gonna beat you black and blue before I throw you out on your ass ... tie you to the trailer hitch of the wagon bare-ass and drag you home!"
"Russ, you won't, because I won't let you," Chris Gael said, coming in on cue as if from a Gay 90's melodrama. "We've all had a lot to drink. Otherwise nothing like this would have happened, I'm sure. Now, I think you should leave ... alone while we all sober up. We'll see that Julie gets home all right in a cab in the morning. And I'll call one for you now."
"You tellin' me how to handle my wife, you sonofabitch?" Russ roared according to their script. "I'll beat your ass bloody and fuck your wife!"
"I don't think you could do either," Chris said. He pointed to the door and said, "Go," winking. "You're sober enough to drive now-take your own car."
Russ Bourbon filled the air with curses, according to plans made earlier, and went.
Only an innocent young girl would be taken in by their instantly-planned amateur play, but Julie was so confused she could only stare and hope for her own survival, which at that moment meant having her husband go his way and leave her alone to her remorse. The thought of the perversion she'd indulged in overwhelmed her, and she felt great relief when Russ slammed the door and their old station wagon coughed itself to life and finally roared away.
"Oh, my God!" she whimpered as the taillights disappeared.
"Honey, he'll get over it ... we were all drinking too much," Shawna Gael said comfortingly. "Come on, we've got extra bedrooms and by morning he'll have calmed down."
"I don't want to sleep alone ... not after this!" the tortured young bride cried. "There's a security man at the hotel ... I know he wants to sleep with me ... seems like a nice guy...."
"You can sleep in our bed ... with us," Shawna said. "This has been a rough experience, I know, but we've shared it."
"Oh ... yes ... yes," Julie Bourbon sobbed. "I need to be with people...."
"Chris and I will have sex," Shawna said. "After being with you, I want him too ... Being with a girl only makes me hotter for my man. You don't have to watch."
"I think I want to watch," Julie said impulsively. "I want to lie close to you ... if you don't mind." She bit her lip. "I want to feel what you feel ... to be part of you...."
"Julie," Chris Gael said. "I think you should know. Shawna and I make love every way there is. I know your background and a lot of it will shock you."
"How can I be shocked after what I've done tonight-and loved it?" the lovely young blonde responded. "I want to see all the things I've been missing ... and to hell with Russ! I've held back too much, I suppose. Oh, let's go into the bedroom and-and be together!"
"Chris might get homey and try to fuck hard up into your pussy, Julie," Shawna warned.
"It's about time somebody did!" the aroused blonde cried.
CHAPTER FIVE
Russ Bourbon drove away completely sober, discarding his enraged-husband act, eventually heading back to downtown Vegas. It was late at night and his mind was full of the things that had happened to his taffy-haired, big-titted young bride, and the things that she would encounter in the next few hours. She just had too much spirit and had to be broken, like a balky mule. Well, Shawna had broken her part of the way. Meanwhile, just the thought of her eating Shawna's pussy got him hard as a rock and he had to find a way to get rid of the hard-on. The Strip and downtown were filled with bars and casinos filled with whores who were also rip-off artists, and picking up one of them didn't seem smart.
He thought of the little girl, Mike, and his cock got harder and longer. He found a phone booth and dialed the number she had given him. She picked it up on the second ring.
"You want to fuck?"
"Russ ... I thought you'd never ask!" How can such a sultry voice come from such a little girl? he wondered. He heard her chuckle. "But I don't have the strength. I need a king-size pizza, everything but anchovies, lots tomato, cheese, pepperoni, salami, sausage but no damn little fish. And beer to wash it down. By the time you've got it, I'll be sweetly squeaky clean from the shower ... and will you stay all night?"
"You bet your sweet ass," he said, grinning.
"I'd like it that way," the elfin girl said, laughing.
"No straight fucking?" the photographer said. He wanted to split her lean body with his hard cock.
"Well ... maybe if we turn the lights out. I'm afraid you'll get a good look at the titless wonder and jump out the window."
"For chrissakes, get that tit-fixation out of your pretty head," he snapped. "I'll be by in about an hour."
"Hurry ... I'm starving. And Russ, don't push. I may have a hangup about my tits, but the rest of me seems to work," Mike said. "And tell them to put plenty of tomato sauce on the pizza. You hit the doorbell twice, once, then twice. Okay?"
"Right ... and don't put perfume on your pussy ... it spoils the taste."
"Ha! I laugh! Thinking of you eating me while I eat pizza. You know, that's kooky enough to sound like fun!" She chuckled again.
As he hung up, Russ Bourbon thought, Fucking nutty broad ... but she turns me on ... I'll lick her little cunt and her asshole until she flies out the window! And fuck that queer Julie ... she's in bed with Chris and Shawna and God-only knows what she's doing....
* * *
Still woozy from the liquor she'd consumed and the terrible confrontation with Russ, Julie allowed herself to be led back to the big bed. The softly flickering hypnotic lights still illuminated the room and it seemed so good just to lie down. She knew she should be shocked at this situation but didn't care any more.
"Don't let it bug you, honey," Shawna said as she knelt over Julie. "Russ will cool down. We're glad to have you with us and you just let go and do anything you feel like. Now, Chris and I are going to have some sex ... and it makes it more exciting if someone is watching," She began to slowly stroke the photographer's cock, rolling the fleshy foreskin between her fingers. "It's one thing we agreed on before we decided to marry.
Sex every night. We understand each other. He fucks his models or they suck him every day and I find what I can but when we're together in this bed there's only the two of us." She chuckled. "We compare notes." She pumped her husband's cock slowly and said to him, "I've had a good time tonight ... what kind of good time would you like?"
"How about a long, slow blow-job?" he said, grinning.
"If you can get it up," Shawna giggled, bending over his loins.
"That's your department." He pinched her smooth asscheeks as she took his penis and brought it to her softly ovaling lips and began to blow her hot breath over it as her fingers lewdly stroked the thickening shaft and the purplish-red head grew to overwhelming dimensions. Julie couldn't understand how such a monstrous organ could fit inside the redhead's mouth and she watched, fascinated as Shawna's tongue-the tongue which had so hungrily drilled deep into her own seeping cunt just a short time ago, bringing her so much obscene pleasure, began to lave the bulbous head and drill into the little hole from which a thin whitish fluid pearled. This was the same thing she'd watched in shock on the day Russ shot the blue movie, but that was different. Those two were being paid to perform in a perverted way. But from the deep smile of pleasure on Shawna's face, Julie knew that the auburn-haired wife was doing this for her own pleasure!
Slowly the flat of her tongue encircled the ridge of the throbbing cockhead, wetting it thoroughly, making it glisten with her flowing saliva as Shawna's hand held her husband's balls, fingering their semen-heavy weight. She turned her deep-green eyes to Julie and said, "Kiss him ... we'll both make love to him."
As if mesmerized, the pale-haired young girl bent over Chris Gael's face, her long hair tumbling over him like wheat straw tossed in the wind, and pressed her mouth to his. Her lips parted at the sliding, proving touch of his hot tongue and she found herself sucking it deep into her mouth. She groaned in erotic pleasure as she felt his hands cupping the fullness of her breasts, and his fingers tweaking the rising hardness of her berry-like nipples. From the corner of her eyes as she was kissed and caressed, she watched in dazed awe what Shawna was doing.
She was licking the lust-engorged head of her husband's thick penis slowly, and her lips were ovaling over her fine white teeth as her mouth gaped wide and finally enclosed the mushroom-shaped tip. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.
And then with agonizing slowness, Shawna's ecstatic, beautiful face went lower and lower and inch by inch the rigid pole of Chris's manhood disappeared between the salivating lips until Shawna's nose was buried in the thick triangle of his pubic hair. Julie could hear the older woman moan with pleasure ... and then her head was slowly rising, her lips peeling open as the staff emerged from her sucking mouth until only the bulbous head remained between them. Time after time the lovely face went up and down, tantalizingly.
"Kiss my body," Chris whispered as his loins rose in rhythm with his wife's sucking.
Her breasts expertly fondled, her mouth warm from his kisses, her mind stunned and fascinated by what she was taking part in, Julie Bourbon made no resistance as Chris Gael's hands guided her wetly hot mouth to his chest and to his male nipples. It occurred to her she had never kissed Russ this way, and she quickly discovered something amazing.
Under the soft caress of her lips and tongue, Chris' nipples were hardening and elongating! She'd always thought that on a man they were no more than pimples, bits of flesh which would feel nothing. But there was no mistaking the response as they grew in her hot mouth. Tentatively she nibled with her sharp little teeth and heard the man groan in pleasure and Julie thought that from the disaster of this night, she might learn things which would make her marriage to Russ much more meaningful. She found her hands straying down over his. hard-muscled belly, even into the bush of his pubic hair while he continued to play tantalizingly with her heavy breasts.
It was all wrong, Julie knew, but she couldn't help herself. She had never known such slow and tender lovemaking as even while she caressed and was caressed in turn she could watch the soft lips of Shawna sliding easily now up and down the rigid pole of Chris' staff. It still wasn't clear in her befuddled mind how such a huge organ could be completely absorbed into the auburn-haired girl's mouth, but it was, and from the moans coming deep from Shawna's throat, she wanted it.
"Lick me all over," Chris murmured, his hand urging her head down the length of his muscular body.
Obediently, Julie began to lave him with her tongue, now kissing without restraint. She discovered he tingled when she ran her hot little tongue into his navel and with salacious delight bit him.
She was so aroused that she felt no shock when Shawna sought her hand and drew it to the semen-heavy sac of Chris Gael's balls. Now her face was only scant inches from Shawna's and she could scent the rich smell of his manhood as Shawna's mouth worked with agonizing slowness up and down the turgid length of his male-flesh.
It was the most sensual, entrancing experience young Julie had ever known ... and it went on ... and on ... and on ... until she found herself wanting to do what Shawna was doing ... the forbidden thing she had denied her own husband! Julie groaned and continued to kiss Chris Gael's trembling body until it was wet with her saliva, and an eternity passed.
And then abruptly the auburn-haired girl who had been so languorously fellating her husband let his saliva-glistening cock slip from her mouth and whispered to Julie, "Darling, my mouth is getting tired ... would you like to...?"
Julie gasped but found herself whispering, "I-yes ... but I never have ... not even for Russ!"
"I'll help you," Shawna said softly. "Here, just let's lick it together at first, and it'll come naturally to you."
Holding the rigid, saliva-slick penis straight up, Shawna drew Julie's mouth toward it. For a moment the lovely young blonde held back but as she saw Shawna's tongue flick out over the bulbous head of the throbbing cock, she surrendered and let her wetly parted lips be brought into contact with the hot, wet spear. Surprisingly, it was not an unpleasant situation, and she found it erotically exciting to be sliding her vaginal mouth up and down the length of it as she held Chris Gael's ball in her hand.
"Ummmmmm...." she sighed, and her little pink tongue slithered from between her lubricious lips and began to lick at the sweetness. Under their dual caress, Chris was undulating slowly, lying back and watching the two beautiful young women work on his aroused body. Julie felt Shawna's hand caress her, sliding from her resilient conical breasts down to the dampness of her pussy and back and knew she had passed the point of no return. She let herself be guided by the deft hands until she felt the warm, wet rubbery head of the cock rubbing across her cheeks and lips. She told herself this was carnal, sinful, but couldn't help herself as her lips opened wide. Yet she hesitated.
It was so huge! How could she ever! She could hear her own feverish panting of desire like a rasping file on metal and Julie moaned, "Aaaaahhhh!!!"
"Take it in your mouth, honey," Shawna whispered in her ear. "Go down!"
There was soft but insistent pressure on the back of Julie's head and she was too befuddled by drink and carnal arousal to resist. Narrowing her eyes to slits, she flicked out her tongue to taste the pungent fluid seeping from the little hole and with a great effort opened her young, soft mouth wide and drew the big mushroom-shaped head of Chris Gael's cock between her salivating lips.
As Shawna caressed her tawny hair and head, Chris slowly fucked up into her unresisting lips.
Deeper and deeper his cock sank into her gaping, uncertain mouth. The hot, rubbery head pressed against her soft palate and Julie gagged, trying to spit it out, but now they were both holding her head and there was no escape.
"Relax, darling, you're going to like it," Shawna whispered in her ear, kissing it. "Just relax ... let your throat muscles open ... breathe through your nose, and don't try to suck yet. You can get all of it into your mouth."
In a sudden fit of perversion, Julie wanted to do it!
They were fondling her with their hands and all she could think of was devouring this delicious spear of manhood. A fraction of an inch at a time, she worked her mouth down and down the thick fleshy staff, feeling the heartbeat of the man with her tongue, until finally her nose was buried in his pubic hair and her lips were distended around the very base of his cock.
God! She never thought her mouth could be stretched and stuffed so far. It was like trying to swallow a whole ear of corn ... and it was more exciting than anything that had ever happened to her, even the girl-love with Shawna. She found her throat muscles were relaxing and the choking sensation was gone, and Julie wondered what it would be like if Chris came in her mouth?
If Chris came in her mouth?
Of course he would!
And now she wanted him to. Shoot his white hot cum into her grasping soft wet lips and down her eager throat into her quaking little belly! With a sudden urge of masochistic desire, she wished he would grab her by the hair and just fuck her mouth till her lips split. But he was only caressing her and slowly screwing into the depths of her yearning throat.
She would have to do all of it.
"Ummmmmm...." the lovely blonde moaned in abandon and began to furiously drive her avidly sucking mouth up and down the full length of his rampant manhood. She never let the head of his cock escape her ravenous lips and her tongue swirled over the heavy veined length of it as her taffy hair tossed and whirled over his loins and her face contorted with a lust she had never known before.
She burrowed furiously between his wide-splayed legs, her cheeks hotly compressed around his cock.
Out of her mind with carnal desire, Julie absorbed his penis to its thick base and then, distending her lips, managed to push his semen-laden balls into her mouth also and remained bent over him, sucking and licking until Chris groaned in a mixture of ecstasy and agony.
"Keep at it honey, I'll shut him up," Shawna said with a lewd grin as she straddled her husband's face and drove her seething cunt down on his mouth, grinding her pussy tight against his face.
Julie saw with wildly spinning eyeballs as she sucked furiously. It seemed to go on and on, and she wanted it to last forever, this luscious cock in her mouth, and yet she wanted him to cum hard, empty himself into her avid lips, taste and savor and swallow his semen.
The aroused blonde felt Chris begin to jerk in her mouth and instinctively she released his cum-laden testicles and drew up on his throbbing penis until he was again free to fuck deep into her wet lips.
She felt the explosion in his loins as his cock rammed into her throat and then the fire-hose gushing of his ejaculation. Hot and salty and so male, so delicious! Almost choking on the flood of it, she gulped and swallowed and sucked, her cheeks closed tight around the length of him as she felt it burn into her quaking belly.
The sheer eroticism of it triggered her own response, and at the same instant she heard Shawna scream as she wildly ground her pussy into her husband's face, "I'M CUUUMMMMIIINNGG!!"
Worshipping the magnificent phallus, Julie refused to surrender it from her voracious lips until it was spent and shriveled. Shawna was still rocking back and forth over Chris' gulping mouth. She was slick with sweat and made a kissing motion with her lips.
Julie, cum drooling from the corners of her mouth, raised up and their lips and tongues met.
In total exhaustion the three collapsed in the big bed, twined together, hugging and langurously kissing each other's flesh.
"First time I've ever been sandwiched by two girls," Chris Gael said, reaching for breasts and asscheeks indiscriminately. "And how sweet it is!"
* * *
The steaming-hot pizza was burning Russ Bourbon's hand as he balanced it in its cardboard box while with the other hand he carried two six packs of Lucky Lager. Tucked under his arm was a bottle of raffia-wrapped Chianti. He had had no difficulty finding Mike's small apartment. He had ordered up the biggest pizza he could find, loaded with everything but fish and was oddly interested in how much the tiny girl would be able to eat. He was sure of one thing-he'd get a hell of a fuck out of it if she was anywhere as good at fucking as she was at sucking.
She wanted him to screw her in the ass.
He thought he'd split her apart that way.
For some reason he didn't quite understand, he didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to hurt Julie. Pure Julie, who wouldn't suck his cock but would eat pussy.
"I smell food," she said, answering the door. "I'm ravenous."
He looked her up and down. She wore the shortest possible dress, its flared hem coming barely to the vee of her pubic mound. And there were two unmistakable bumps in front. Salaciously Russ licked his lips and said, "I knew you were hiding tits somewhere."
"These came with the dress," Mike said flippantly. "Get in here and feed me."
He followed her into the apartment. It was small but comfortable. The furnishings were Danish modern with some good teak pieces, but the kitchen was a pullman affair, but enough for a bachelor girl. Through an open door he glimpsed the bedroom. It had a big bed, big enough for a bachelor girl who had a friend.
"Nice," he said.
"Comfortable ... but not a real fuck palace," Mike said. "We eat in the living room. That pizza smells just fine." She swung around, showing beautiful legs and a bit of tightly clenching ass-cheeks. "Lay it all around and I'll get plates."
He had bought the pizza, intended for a large party, mostly as a joke on her. It measured a full thirty inches across and was really loaded. He thought she might eat half of one wedge and give up. But Mike stunned him by eating all but one wedge, which he captured for himself, while she was drinking most of the Chianti and two bottles of beer. He couldn't imagine where she was putting it all, but it was disappearing into her avid mouth just as his cock had. She licked the last strings of cheese from her succulent mouth and patted her still-flat stomach.
"That should give me strength enough to fuck all night," Mike said.
"Bare ass naked," he replied.
"Not with the lights on, Russ," the little girl insisted. She smiled lewdly and said, "Wouldn't the whole thing be sexier for you if I had some clothes on? I mean, if you see what I don't have it'll turn you off. You let me lick until you're nice and slippery and then put it in my bottom with the lights on so we can see each other. Then if you want to sleep with me in the dark, I'll be naked for you ... if you get hard and want to fuck straight, all right. I like it, like it a lot, just the way I liked sucking your prick. You can't accuse me of not being sexy."
"You and your goddam tit-fixation," Russ blurted. "Julie's got tits until hell won't have it, but it doesn't make her a woman. You were behind the door when they were passed out but you're the one who makes me horny. I don't care if you're flat-chested as a Cub Scout!"
"Let's go to bed," the elfin girl said. "I want your cock."
Teasingly, she lingeringly undressed the aroused handsome man, dropping to her knees as she drew his shorts and slacks down after casually discarding his shirt. As he stepped out of the garments her tiny hands, unable to encircle its girth, grasped his upthrust iron-hard penis and she drew the fleshy foreskin down over the bulbous head. Worshipfully, Mike whispered, "Ooooh, it's so beautiful ... and big! Oh, Russ, you don't know how I love a big one! Some people say it doesn't matter how big it is, that it's the pile-driving ass behind it ... but that's not true ... for me at least." Lovingly she began to lave and kiss his turgind penis, her little tongue whirling wetly over his smooth rubbery knob, then lashing up and down the full length of it until it glistened. Rounding her lips into a hot O Mike sucked him deep into her tender mouth, her beautiful face contorting.
Russ stood over her, dwarfing her kneeling form and thought how beautiful she really was and marveling at her erotic passion. She had to be the most yearning, willing female he had ever encountered ... and it was arousing in a way to have her with the scanty dress on instead of naked. Like shooting pictures. He could snap the shutter at nudes all day and not get hard. But with a chick who wore even the tiniest, sheerest panties, his cock came up as sure as the sun in the morning, and just as hot! And Mike sucked cock with a soft, wet slurping sound coming from her magnificent mouth which added another dimension. Impulsively he reached and held her head tight to his loins.
"Hey-I want to taste you too. Let's sixty-nine."
"I thought you were going to fuck me in the ass," she said, almost petulantly. "But whatever you want, Russ...."
"You'll dig it more if you're warmed up," he said. "On the bed, baby."
With a throaty sigh of agreement, Mike rose from her knees and he lay on the bed. She straddled him, her sleek thighs framing his face as she lowered her flexing, flowering cunt to his waiting mouth. She felt his strong hands grasping her slender hips and pulling her downward, and then the expert caress of his lips and the first spearing of his tongue parting the lightly tufted cleft of her lubricious cunt, seeking the sensitive button of her clitoris.
"Ooooohhhh...." Mike moaned, rocking back and forth as the tongue fluttered like butterfly wings from side to side in her labia and then slithered like a racing lizard into the depths of her hot, wet pussy. "That is nice!"
Dreamily, unable to believe Russ really wanted to do this to her, she ground her mound of Venus tight against his wetly sucking mouth. Mike felt that a lot of the men she gave herself to, fucked her just for laughs, because she was so small ... but the way Russ Bourbon was eating her left no doubt that he really wanted it; that he considered her a real woman! And obviously he had no such feelings about his beautiful big-titted blonde wife! The realization sent her into a spasm of ecstasy and with it she began to cum, the sweet juices boiling deep in her loins and gushing into his hotly devouring mouth.
"OOOOHHHH ... AAAAAAHHHHH!!! ... YESSSS!!!" the diminutive girl cried out in passion. "RUSSSSS ... I'M CUUMMIIINNGG!!!"
The rigid pole of his still saliva-slick penis beckoned. She had been so taken with his oral love-making that she had entirely forgotten it! With a groan she dropped on his loins like a hunting hawk, eagerly sucking the entire length of him into her wanting wet mouth while her own love-juices spilled over his face and her slim thighs clamped it in shuddering joy as she writhed like a demon over his reclining body. Mike had never known such pleasure. There had been other orgasms, good ones, but this was the best ever, and it had come so fast! Her entire slender but beautifully curved body shuddered with the ecstasy of the moment.
And then something else was happening!
Russ had spread her clenching asscheeks wide and effortlessly shifted her feather-light body just a few inches. She felt the hot tip of his wet tongue encircling her tight little anus, lubricating it, and then drilling inside the constricting rubbery ring.
"Mmmmmuuuummmmmm...." she hummed in pleasure, her mouth still filled with his cock.
This was something no man had ever done for her before, and it was indescribably wonderful. Mike lay on top of him, grinding her buttocks against his mouth as she sucked him. She almost cried out in frustration when suddenly he stopped, lifting her away from his face. God! She had been on the point of cumming again!
"Let's try it with my prick instead of my tongue," he said.
"Ooooohhhh ... yessss!" Mike moaned, quickly surrendering his now-slick penis from her avid lips. With the grace of a gymnast she seemed to do a handspring and land on wide-splayed knees, her face pressed to the pillow, turned so she could see it all happen in the big mirror beside the bed. Her buttocks, smooth and ivory white, waved invitingly as Russ knelt behind her, the thick shaft of his aroused penis in his hand as he guided it between her well-lubricated asscheeks to the tiny rose of her anus. Mike was so aroused that every nerve end in her petite body tingled as though in contact with a high-voltage electric line. She braced herself, because this part, a man getting into her ass, always hurt until she could relax her muscles and take his cock into her tight, tender rectum. After that it was all right, and a deep assfuck always gave her tremendous pleasure.
And this time, it was a surprise. Russ Bourbon had prepared her beautifully. At the mere touch of his massive cockhead, her anus seemed to flower open in invitation. She felt no pain as it stretched the tight rubbery sphincter muscle and in one smooth thrust lunged far up into her nether passage. She gyrated her smoothly rounded buttocks in a demand for deeper penetration and felt his heavy balls smack against the cum-drip-ping mouth of her already satiated pussy.
"Ooooohhhh!! Woooowwww!!!" she cried out in pleasure. She screwed back furiously on the reaming, impaling cock and rose to her elbows, grinding her sleek little body back with demonic fury. In the mirror, she saw the tree-like penis ram deep into her rectum, seeming to stuff her belly as Russ grabbed her squirming hips and fucked into the seething hot channel. She cried out, "Oooohhhh ... Russss!!! This is so goooddd!! Don't cum! Don't cum. Just keep screwing my ass!!!"
"Little one, any guy who gets into you like this can't hold out too long ... but I'll do the very best I can."
"Try Yoga ... cut your mind off from your body," the aroused little girl panted as she gyrated and luxuriated in the feel of his cock pistoning like a jackhammer into her vitals and his heavy balls smacking wetly against the tender, wide-open lips of her cunt. "I'M CUMMMMMIIIINNNGGG AGAIN!!!! OH, FUCK MEEE!!"
Russ was amazed at his own ability to stay rock-hard and in her squirming, demanding hot body. Damn, he thought, if only Julie'd fuck like this!
On and on it went, his rampant penis drilling violently into the wildly swiveling moons of Mike's ass until, to his amusement it was his back and not his cock which gave out. Panting like a long-distance runner in the Boston Marathon, he finally gasped and collapsed, dropping his entire weight on the tiny girl, but still with his penis throbbing hard in her tightly clenching ass. She was sighing in wild satisfaction, after cumming God-only-knew-how-many times, and now herd internal muscles were milking his cock, sucking at it until finally with a great burst of energy he rose up and screwed into her tender flesh one more time.
As though a dam had burst, his savory, steaming-hot semen spurted-it seemed forever-from the flexing head of his deeply imbedded cock into her eagerly welcoming rectum. Her anus clutched his shaft so tight he couldn't move until he had been completely drained into her yearning hot body. And then, sluggishly responding to her movements, he rolled on his side, still deeply penetrating the tiny girl whose smooth young thighs stretched wide over his own muscular legs. Russ was so exhausted he fell asleep. He was unaware of it when Mike eased herself off the softening spike of his tired maleness, and didn't waken until the sun blazed through the thinly curtained window.
When he blinked his eyes into focus, he was stunned.
Mike was lying beside him, her breathing slow as she slept.
And she was stark naked now.
There wasn't a damn thing wrong with her breasts. They were small, true, but she was a small girl. But even lying on her back, they were firmly molded, upthrust, the nipples looking like tiny delicious wild strawberries. Not the out jutting oversized cones like Julie and Shawna had, maybe, but beautiful! A photographer's dream, because the camera would put about ten pounds on a woman who weighs ninety.
Slowly he bent over her and began to kiss them as his hand caressed the soft, pale flesh of her exquisite thighs. Her dark eyes fluttered open and she moved to push his head away.
"You're really a girl," he said, grinning lewdly as his mouth sought the mound of her breast again. "And I'm going to fuck hell out of you. Now!"
"Ooooohhhh!!!" Mike sighed, reaching for his hardening cock.
CHAPTER SIX
Julie Bourbon woke up disoriented, and with the greatest hangover she had ever had-in fact the first one.
She was at first unable to understand why she was in bed between Chris and Shawna Gael ... and then the shocking, ripping, gut-searing memory of the previous day and night came back to her. In fragments which she had to put together like a jigsaw puzzle.
She had a blurred memory of showering with Shawna, and then somehow they had been in bed together, doing unspeakable things to each other ... and had been caught by Russ and Chris!
The stunned pale-maned girl stirred as she remembered Russ storming off in a fury....
And then there was a long, erotic session with both Shawna and Chris....
MY GOD! she realized. I SUCKED HIS COCK-AND I LOVED IT!
Oh, how could I have ever gotten myself into this? the suddenly aware young bride asked herself. And even as she faced the terrible self-accusation, Julie Bourbon realized that she had loved every minute of it. Some deep well of carnality in her had been finally tapped and she had to admit that she would be a slave to sex from now on. It would be repulsive enough if her own husband had led her to this state of degradation ... but to be initiated by two complete strangers, who were now in bed with her so close their bodies were hotly pressed to hers, was incredible!
"Julie, honey, you're awake."
The still-drowsy blonde tensed as she felt Chris Gael send his nimble fingers sliding lewdly up the ultra-sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and trail teasingly over the tender lips of her pussy, working between the soft wetness of her cuntal slit. She instinctively moved to claw at him, but her newly aroused sensuality overwhelmed her and she could only whimper a weak protest.
"Ooohh ... Chris ... Nooooo...."
"Honey, any day that begins with a fuck has to be beautiful."
Blinking, writhing under the digital caress, Julie realized Shawna was also awake, her deep reddish-brown hair tousled, her full, rich breasts exposed, and that she was watching with pleasure as her husband made his advances so expertly. Against her will, Julie found her woman's body undulating to meet the probing fingers.
"Have a good fuck while I throw some breakfast together," the long-limbed redhead said with a salacious grin.
"Ooooohhhh ... God!" Julie moaned as she watched Shawna put on a short robe and slip from the room. She wanted to scratch and bite at the man in bed with her, but the demands of her body, still aroused, wouldn't be denied. Groaning, she let her long, tanned legs be parted and automatically began to stroke the hot length of Chris Gael's penis when he led her reluctant hand to it. Julie knew she was being led into sin.
Led into sin? She was so deep in it already that she could never get out of the slime pit! Pitifully she moaned, "Oh, Chris, it was all a mistake!"
"A mistake? You loved it! You needed it," he said in a soothing voice. "Now wet me up and we'll have a long, slow fuck."
The dazed blonde, facing the fact that the expertly caressing man in bed with her spoke the truth-no matter how bitter it was-made no resistance as he firmly pushed her tousled head down to his loins. Obediently she wet her lips and then began to lick the reddish-purple head of his rigid cock. Once her lips touched it she had to have it! Groaning with lewd desire, she drew it into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth and her cheeks hollowed, sharply outlining the pole-like shaft, as it probed deep into her throat. Her little tongue softly experimented, and what she had learned in her half-drugged state of a few hours before quickly returned.
Julie imagined she could still taste his cum, and wanted to taste it again. Abandoning all decency, all the morals built up over the years of her life, she began to fellate Chris Gael wildly, her blonde hair tossing like she was caught in a tornado as the delicious cock rammed deeper and deeper into her throat and the need to devour his semen became an overwhelming desire.
"Noooo ... Noooo!!!" she cried out when his strong hands grasped her hair and roughly pulled her avid mouth from his long, hard cock. "Chris ... Chris ... Chris!!! WHY STOP ME NOW?"
"I'm nice and wet and hard ... I want to fuck." His saturnine face was implacable. "Get on top of me and put me in your cunt."
Meekly, like a slave girl, the lovely blonde moved to straddle him. Shamelessly she took his saliva-slick cock and guided it to the flowering lips of her flexing pussy. Positioning herself she let her weight down suddenly and felt the rampant spear ram up into her yearning body until the rubbery cock head smacked against her cervix. It did feel nice! Ooooh, how nice!
Her loins clenching tight to the impaling staff of his manhood, Julie Bourbon fell on top of him, her hair spraying to cover his face as she wildly kissed him, drawing his tongue deep into her mouth, and her firm, resilient breasts flattened against his chest as with a jerking of his hips Chris Gael began to fuck deep up in her steaming-hot pussy.
"I wanted you to cum in my mouth again!" the aroused taffy-haired girl said, riding up and down the rigid pole. "Oooohhh ... this is so nice ... but I wanted to suck you dry!"
"A lot of calories in cum," he said, grinning and grasping her wildly whirling asscheeks. God, she was a hot fuck! Even hotter than Shawna!
"I want to drink you dry," Julie panted as her passion rose. She could feel his cock reaming her wildly, sending great ripples of her cuntal flesh ahead of it each time it slammed up into her quaking belly against the mouth of her womb. "God help me, that's what I want!"
"You'll know when I'm ready to cum ... then suck it, baby," Chris said, grinding his loins against her wetly seeping cunt.
Feverishly, Julie screwed up and down his rigidly thick phallus, luxuriating in the feel of the huge knob-like head plundering her tightly grasping young pussy.
"OOOOOHHHH ... AAAUUUUUGGGHH!!!" she screamed. "CHRIS! I'H CUMMMIINNGG!!"
She felt his cock piston up into her cunt, his pelvic bone hammering her tender, sensitive clitoris, and her juices began to gush, soaking both of them and the rich silk sheet beneath.
It happened not once but five times before she felt his cock flexing, becoming even longer, swelling and ballooning inside her ravenous vagina.
"Now! If you want to suck!" he cried out.
With a moan of desire, Julie sprang off him, her cuntlips snapping shut with a wet, sucking sound. She barely had time to kneel between the wide-stretched legs of Chris Gael before the first hot, aromatic bursts of his long-stored semen shot into her gaping mouth. Eagerly she clamped her sot, passion-swolled lips tightly to the jerking head of his penis and sucked, sucked, sucked, gulping the hot, thick flesh deep into her throat as her tongue teased it and her little white teeth nibbled ravenously on the phallus.
Until it was limp and shrunken and useless in her salivating mouth. She could feel the swirling pool of his cum in her heaving little belly, and for a long time she knelt between his legs, not caring what she had become.
Julie Bourbon liked it.
* * *
Meanwhile, Shawna Gael was moving with practiced efficiency in the kitchen, preparing a health-restoring breakfast after having first performed one essential chore. If there was one thing she liked almost as well as fucking and sucking, it was cooking. She believed that if a body was going to fuck, it should be well fed, and she devoted a great amount of energy to what she did in her kitchen. Now she was preparing a meal which would make a lumberjack burp, with an eye on the clock. It was a matter of pride with her that everything went on the table in proper sequence, at the exact moment it was needed.
She also believed that food, like music, soothes savage beasts, and there were two savagely fucking in the house at the moment. If Julie Bourbon didn't get fed well after a wake-up fuck, she could climb the walls.
On the stove that was big enough for a restaurant, hash-brown potatoes were frying, thick center cuts of ham were sizzling, and small but succulent filet-mignon steaks were doing the same under the broiler. A bowl of whipped eggs, cream and butter waited for just the right minute, along with spicy sausages. Biscuits were rising in the oven, and the room was filled with the aroma of rich Columbian coffee as a loaf of French bread slowly toasted. By the grill, a batch of buttermilk-pancake batter waited. Because they entertained so much, the kitchen had been automated. Things turned off and on at the command of a complex timer. Shawna checked to see that all was in order, and then went to make sure the important machinery was functioning.
It was located in a small room into which no one was ever allowed. The room was not visible to the casual eye, being entered through a closet which was purposely littered. Shawna poured herself an oversized cup of coffee and went there.
It might have been the control room of a small television studio. There was a console with many knobs, and above it four screens. Nobody knew about the tape cameras. They were placed to cover every inch of the master bedroom where Julie Bourbon was getting her wake-up fuck.
"Oh, how she's loving it!" Shawna murmured to herself as she eased into a comfortable swivel chair and lipped a button which turned on a fifth, really big screen. "What a sweet fuck she is!"
In vivid color, she could see the tightly clamping cuntlips of the aroused blonde as she rose and reamed herself down over Chris Gael's obscenely sunken penis. The coral-hued flesh was drawn out on every upstroke, then savagely swallowed as Julie ground her yearning loins down on the rigid spike of male-flesh. Julie's beautiful breasts were bouncing and jiggling to the point where they were almost a blur and her ass was churning and grinding as Chris fucked far up deep into her dripping pussy.
"Have we ever found a new toy!" Shawna said salaciously, turning up the sound to get the wet, sluicing tones. Julie's pale mane of hair was flailing wildly, her face contorted with passion and she was grunting and groaning with her efforts. Time after time she screamed out her climax like a wild woman. And then abruptly she was scrambling, wildly kneeling between the wide spread legs of Chris and her ravenous mouth was gulping at his cock as he began to fuck madly into the hot oral cavern. Strings of cum oozed from the edge of Julie's passionate lips and her smooth throat jerked with her eager swallowing even as her pussy gushed with a new outpouring of her lust, the lips flexing as the pearly cum seeped from her loins. Shawna was somewhat amazed that the prudish young blonde had turned on to all kinds of sex so fast, and she wished she could be in the big bed, her tongue dipping into the sweetly flowing cuntal slit with its sopping-wet blonde-curled ringe. Well, she told herself, there'll be plenty of chances in the future.
In one night, Julie Bourbon had been turned into the sweetest cuntlapper or cocksucker anyone could imagine!
She might freak from guilt, but Shawna Gael, with her long experience, thought not. Once she came down from her sex high, Julie would accept it and go on. She wouldn't have much choice, once she saw the tapes after Chris had edited them. With a little editing and some straight scenes, Julie could be coerced. They could make at least three blue movies ... and at practically no cost. Just some drinks and a few thousand feet of videotape. They already had the standard F & S-fuck and suck-and lesbian scenes. And the way the lovely blonde took to it would be enough to carry some short ones, but that would be throwing money away.
They would need the filler stuff, something that would pass for plot, if only to satisfy the censors.
And the price would go up into the millions if they could get her into a sandwich. Fucked by two men at once.
Shit, Shawna thought. There's got to be an ass-fuck in there someplace!
Men loved to see a pretty girl get screwed in the ass!
Things had moved so fast that neither she nor Chris had given enough thought to that, and she felt Julie Bourbon wouldn't do it willingly.
She would have to be threatened, humiliated to the point where she would yield to anything.
Well, maybe not a German shepherd,.
That scene was one even Shawna herself had vetoed. Animalism was repulsive to her, even though she'd seen some beautiful girls apparently turn on while they were being fucked by a dog or donkey.
As on the monitors she saw Julie languorously move to kiss Chris, her mouth streaming with his cum, her alarm wristwatch went off.
In the kitchen, she checked on the huge breakfast. Everything was on schedule. She picked up the phone, pressed the intercom button and in a moment answered the sex-weary voice of her husband.
"It's beautiful, and breakfast is about ready."
"Ten minutes," he mumbled. He sounded like he had fucked himself to death. "Julie's in the shower."
* * *
Julie thought she would be shamefaced when she came into the elaborate dining room, yet she felt a glow deep inside her. Although she might have fallen into the deepest pits of depravity, she had found something if not of moral value, then of importance. She found it easy to smile and joke with both Chris and Shawna Gael, and only in fleeting seconds thought of where her angry husband might be. Her only concern was how she would get back to her apartment, but that didn't seem to be serious. She had never felt so fulfilled as a woman before, depraved and perverted as she knew she had been.
Julie wasn't even afraid to face her husband now. After all, he was the one who caused it all....
"One of us can drive you. home, but we've got a heavy schedule today," Chris said smoothly, his eyes carrying a mesage. "In the garage there's a Mustang with the top down. Take it and we'll pick it up sometime."
Feeling stuffed from all she had eaten and sure she had put on at least five pounds, Julie Bourbon agreed. Still slightly dizzy from all the lovemaking, and the realization of what she was really like deep down inside, she took the car and drove home. Russ might raise hell with her, but hadn't he done as much, or more?
She vowed to stand up to him as she jammed the gas pedal down.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The studio apartment in the casino-hotel was empty when Julie Bourbon arrived. No Russ. And no old Pontiac station wagon in their parking slot.
She felt on the verge of panic, remembering his anger, not realizing the entire thing had been staged. She dug into the locked closets and found his cameras and clothes yet was obsessed by a terrifying fear that he had left her and would sneak back to pick up his gear sometime when she was out of the studio. A wave of near panic swept over her and she felt her cum-filled belly clench.
Oh, God! What a fool I've been, the flaxen-maned young wife accused herself. She tried to think where Russ could have gone at this hour of day, in righteous wrath raised by what he had caught her in. There were at least a thousand bars in Vegas, she knew. But Russ had never gone on a wild drunk in his life! She checked the note pad for possible appointments and found none. She dried tears of remorse from her glistening dark eyes and used the phone to check with the desk. There had been no calls for either her or Russ.
In desperation she tried to think her way out of the morass.
She had no friends who could help her. Chris and Shawna might try, but what would they know about how to find somebody in the neon jungle of Las Vegas? Calling the police would be embarrassing to say the least.
The distressed blonde remembered the quiet, polite security man ... what was his name ... DeCosta! He seemed to know just what was going on, and Julie was aware that in Las Vegas the private police knew much more than the public police. She used the phone again, reached Security, and found he was not on duty at that hour. However, he lived in the hotel and she was put through to his room. Crisply he answered the call.
DeCosta had been indoctrinated into his trade by a hitch in Navy Intelligence, moving on later to the Central Intelligence Agency. He paid more attention to the inflections of words as they were spoken than to the words themselves. He remembered the encounter and didn't mind being awakened by Julie Bourbon. He had the impression she was on the verge of freaking, and it was his job to see that nothing like that happened. He controlled his voice carefully.
"Mrs. Bourbon, I don't think you have anything to worry about. All of us run off the rails sometimes and this may be your husband's day. I can ask some questions. If he had an accident, I'll know in ten minutes. If he's visiting a friend, that will take longer. I can make the calls from here and let you know within the hour."
"I can't stand waiting," Julie blurted. "Waiting and not knowing." She hadn't told the detective the entire story. Impulsively she pleaded, "Could I-could I come to your room and be there when you look for him?"
"If you want-but it's messy. The housekeeping staff doesn't show much respect for me."
"I couldn't care less!" the aroused taffy-haired blonde replied. "I'm heading for there now!"
"All right. I'll get some wake-up coffee cooking and put my pants on," DeCosta said. "Give me fifteen minutes-I'm in bed."
His at-home appearance was a shock to Julie who had only seen the impeccably garbed man when he was on duty. Now DeCosta wore paisley flare slacks and as far as she could see, nothing else. His hair was uncombed and his apartment, about the same as she and Russ had, looked like a bear's cave. She could smell coffee brewing. He met her at the door with a telephone on a long cord in his hand and, listening, waved her inside to the small living room.
Somehow, she thought, he's so male and handsome this way, instead of being wrapped up in a gray-flannel suit! The long-limbed girl felt a new stirring in her loins as she heard him speaking in rapid Italian. The long phone cord followed him like a snake as he locked the door, sank into an overstuffed chair and reached for a cigarette.
"This could take some time," he said, covering the phone with his hand. "The coffee is about done. I could use some."
Julie Bourbon went into the tiny kitchen, found cups and sugar and poured from the gurgling percolator. She carried them into the other room and watched DeCosta at work, thinking he certainly knew his business as he placed one call after another, sometimes speaking in English, sometimes in Italian, of which she knew a few words, and then in a language completely strange to her although it sounded like some Russian she'd heard once in a TV debate involving Russians.
Her short dress was sliding up to reveal the curvaceous globes of her asscheeks and she found herself wishing she had worn a brassiere because her ripe, wide-set breasts were spilling from the bodice of the dress, but then she didn't even own a bra. Well, after what she had been through, it didn't seem important. She trembled, partly with anxiety over what might have happened to Russ and partly because in her newly awakened womanhood, she was excited by the nearness of the lean, hard-muscled man who was bare to the waist and not even wearing slippers. Her eyes were drawn to the front of his jeans and there was an unmistakable pole of flesh growing there, even though it seemed he had only given her the barest of glances and was being all business.
She began to know what it was to feel like a woman. Not just a pretty figure on a photographic print, but a woman.
And Julie Bourbon liked the feeling.
Twice she refilled his coffee cup as he hung on the phone, asking, demanding. As she made another trip to the coffee pot, she swung around momentarily and saw his dark Latin eyes were on her long, golden legs and jiggling asscheeks even as he talked. She liked that.
Julie tossed her hair and thought she liked him ... mostly because he didn't push or try to maneuver. He was probably the coolest person she had ever met, the "cool" not meaning coldness but great self-control.
As she returned with more coffee, there was a rasping buzz. DeCosta kicked at a stack of newspapers, magazines and paperback books, fished out a second telephone and began talking into both at once. Now he was scowling and speaking in foreign languages until he hung up.
The anxious girl with the wheat-pale hair had a sense of deep apprehension as he hung up both phones. He didn't look happy.
"Your husband's okay," he said. "No blood on the highway, Mrs. Bourbon."
"Just what does that mean? I want the truth!" Julie blurted as she sat beside him and raised her coffee cup to her sensual lips with a shaking hand. "And let's drop 'Mrs. Bourbon'-I'm Julie. I have to know ... I must know."
"He's not in any trouble. He'll be home sometime today, if my information is correct," DeCosta said. He couldn't keep his eyes from the sleek, voluptuous beauty of her and felt his cock hard as a rock. "My suggestion is you just put it down to a little family fight, which always cleans the air."
"Horse shit!" Julie exploded, using an expression which she never had before, her dark eyes now angry as she tossed her head and her long flaxen hair flailed. "I thank you for finding him but I damn well want to know what the scene it! Don't think you'll be put down as a fink for telling me-whatever it is, he'll be bragging about it when he does decide to come home! Now tell me!"
"It's going to hit you between the eyes, Julie," the security man said seriously. "But if you insist on knowing, he's been with a girl who's not nearly as impressive as you are. Her name is Micah Brautovich and she's a secretary for an advertising agency. Pretty, but skinny. From what I can learn, not a bad girl ... not a whore ... but she likes men."
"Oh, Jesus!" Julie Bourbon murmured, as the vision of skinny little Mike flashed through her mind. She reached and clutched at the man beside her, sobbing, yet thinking of her own bad conduct and finding herself unable to blame Russ. Her face wet with tears, she mumbled, "Do you have anything strong to drink? Oh, God, how I need a drink before my bird falls out of his tree!"
"It's early in the day, but I do have some brandy. Let me spike your coffee and maybe you'll feel better.
One liberally-poured shot of brandy didn't do it, but three did. Julie sipped the heavily laced coffee as she found how to control her emotions, and release her inhibitions. Her hot dark eyes were drawn to DeCosta's tight-fitting pants and she could see the rigid outline of his ready cock, could even imagine the jumping of it as his blood pulsed through the heart of his maleness.
She thought of the things she had done, and wondered how much lower she could go before turning into Instant Harlot, and didn't care.
What was left to care about, with Russ taking up with the lean little girl, and herself sucking cock and eating cunt?
And now she could feel DeCosta becoming restless.
"Is this for me?" the distressed young wife said as she reached for his hot loins and her slender fingers clasped the rigidity of his manhood. Never had she thought she could be so bold and brazen, but now there was a burning compulsion within her. "I want it."
"You caused it," DeCosta said, moving up to her grasping hand. "I was happily in bed sleeping alone and you called, and ... the bed isn't made. It's like an unmade bed."
"Show me," Julie said, clawing at him in a mix of desire and need for revenge on her husband. She pulled him to his feet and pressed her smooth young body against him. "Show me, DeCosta ... oooohhhh ... show me! I'm not a Vegas whore! I've learned so many terrible things about myself lately, I don't understand me! I'm half drunk and I know it! But I know what I'm doing now, at this moment in time. I want a man, and you're here! Take care of me. Ooooohhhh, take care of me, DeCosta!
Wild with desire, the lovely blonde almost dragged him into his own bedroom. As he watched, somewhat stunned, she shrugged out of her mini-dress and peeled her gossamer lace-fringed panties down the smoothly curved columns of her golden legs. Julie tossed her rich mane of taffy-hued hair and her eyes flashed defiance and challenge. The brandy was burning in her skull.
"Any way!" she panted. "Take me any way you want! I don't care how much it hurts." She gulped, realizing what a degrading thing she had said, but her blood was still hot. "Your prick?" She licked her lust-swollen lips. "I want it, DeCosta. Any way. For God's sake get those pants off and give it to me!"
Like a snarling animal the curvaceous blonde girl went at him, her hands clawing at the zipper of his fly until his pants slid down his legs and his cock sprang free, long and hard. With a groan of lewd, obscene desire, she dropped to her knees and began to kiss it reverently, her tongue lashing the bulbous head and then her beautiful face swelled as she drove her ravenous lips down, down, all the way until they were buried in his pubic hair as she sucked eagerly. She felt his hands enclosing her wild thatch of pale hair as he fucked deep into her throat, the thick, rubbery cockhead ramming far below her tonsils. And then he was holding her straining, lust-contorted face tight to his loins and speaking. , "Let's get on the bed and do it to each other, pretty girl."
Reluctantly the aroused young woman surrendered the thick phallus from her devouring lips. She wondered how she could ever have come to this, but knew she had to have it, now that Russ was fucking that skinny little bitch!
She hoped he would do unspeakable things to her ... things she could hurl in the complacent face of her unfaithful husband.
They tumbled into the rumpled bed that smelled richly of his masculinity and now she realized, as hands maneuvered and fingers lewdly slid over her breasts, that it would be good.
Not right-she was a married woman-but good!
The aroused palomino-haired girl panted and yielded to the sure pressure of his arms and fingers, until they were lying on their sides, face to loins, and she felt her long, shapely legs being spread as his tongue and lips caressed the hot tenderness of her sensitive inner thighs. As her yearning cunt flowered open she felt his breath on the pale-hued coral inner flesh and her body undulated with uncontrolled desire, slowly as a snake coiling and uncoiling, and as ready to strike.
DeCosta's long, lust-throbbing cock was a fraction of an inch from her face, and with a groan of desire she took it in her hand and began to rub the velvety, soft head that was so much in contrast with the hardness of the staff over her cheeks and eyes and throat. His hot breath was like fire on her blood-engorged pussy and with a moan she splayed her long, silken legs wider.
And then, after she had been tantalized and aroused, he finaly did it!
Julie felt the flickering tip of his tongue slide up and down the soft and hair-guarded flesh of her vaginal slit, seeking, burrowing into her seeping pussy.
"Ooooohhhh!!!" the beautiful blonde sighed and tightly clamped her quivering velvet thighs around his head and screwed her cunt up to his exploring mouth. His tongue slithered up into the depths of her vaginal channel and she fucked up to it like it was the beautiful cock she was holding. She couldn't restrain herself any longer. With a sigh of wanton desire she wet her salivating soft lips with the tip of her slithering pink tongue and, her warm, wet mouth engulfed the beautiful head of his long cock, her tongue seeking the little dewy pearl that had materialized in the slit at the top.
Through her mind flashed the thought that it was nice.
Having his tongue in her hot, wet cunt ... and being able to suck him at the same time. His semen-heavy balls beckoned and she grasped them urgently, so hard that he groaned. Tongue lashing, the aroused young wife relaxed her mouth and slowly sucked the delicious penis deeper and deeper into her throat, her smoothly tanned cheeks drawn in tight, outlining it with the intensity of her sucking. DeCosta's tongue was playing with her clitoris and dancing like a well-trained snake from side to side of her gaping, lubricious pussy.
Soon they found a rhythm.
He fucked deep into her eager lips and then his own lips and tongue did delicious things to her seething cunt. Julie knew this could go on for a long time....
And it did. Time without end, she thought, as she sucked his cock and he kissed and nibbled her electrically charged pussy until with a groan of approaching climax rolled her onto her back and began to fuck like a stud into her willing mouth even as he spread her thighs wide and burried his face in the soft bush of her pubic and his tongue became a spear of fire.
They came together, his hot, thick sperm pouring into her eager lips even as her own juices boiled from the depths of her jerking belly into his mouth.
His hot sperm swirling in her belly, Julie Bourbon shifted so that his weight was rolled off her and they were lying side by side savoring each other's aromatic climaxes, mouths still tightly locked to each other's genitals. The bedroom was rich with the aroma of their wild satisfaction.
"That wasn't planned ... it just happened," DeCosta said as he shook two cigarettes from a pack on the night stand and lit them and put one between her lips. "I feel like a shit! You came here for help and this happened."
"I don't want you to feel that," Julie said, almost choking on the smoke with the rich taste of his cum in her mouth. "DeCosta, I could have stopped it, just told you 'no'! But I was out for revenge. I wanted you as a deadly weapon...." She smiled, her lips glistening silver with his cum around the phallic symbol of the cigarette. "And when it got to the nitty gritty, I wanted you." She ruffled her pale hair and tried to compose what she would say next. "I mean, at first I was using you. I wanted to be put down, humiliated because my husband spent the night fucking a skinny little girl. God, how I wanted to hurt him! But then when it began, I turned on to it." Almost shyly, she said, "I was really making love with you."
"I had that idea!" he said, grinning for the first time Julie could remember. He had seemed like such a cold fish until now. He moved to fondle her breasts and kiss the out-thrust sensitive nipples as his hand stroked her dripping cunt. Her arms wrapped him with all her young, yearning strength and she hummed deep in her cum-soaked throat in pleasure. "You know how Vegas it ... lots of girls. You come to know when they're doing it just to kill time or really mean it."
"Yes," the satiated blonde said. "But I was a freak. I mean, shook, and not just by my husband shacking up with a girl. I have to get it off my chest."
It took her a long time to spill it all out, and she didn't spare herself. She told of her former frigidity and her initiation to fellatio and cunni-lingus and lesbianism, pacing the small bedroom from wall to wall, naked, smelling of woman aroused and insatiable. He lay in the bed and watched and listened and smoked cigarettes, making no comment until she had spent herself, sure that when he had heard the entire sordid tale he would reject her.
Yet his maleness grew and became like the trunk of a redwood tree.
"Come back to bed," he said.
Yearning for comfort, Julie Bourbon did, not caring what he would do to her now after all she had confessed.
She found herself rolled onto her back and even as her long smooth legs scissored in the air he was on top of her, his strong fingers squeezing her softly resilient breasts and his newly rigid cock was splitting the tender lips of her pussy, ramming wildly up into the seething depths of her cunt, rippling the soft inner flesh ahead of it, and her wide-stretched asscheeks were being hammered by his balls.
"OOOOHHH!! FUCK ME!!! FUCK MEEE!!" the wildly aroused blonde girl cried out, her nails raking his back and she felt his cock splitting the welcoming lips of her pussy that he had licked and kissed and sucked. Wildly squirming, she began to chant, without realizing what she was saying, "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! HARDER! HARDER! ALL THE WAY IN MY BELLY! YESSS!!! OOOOHHHH ... AAAUUUUGGGGHHHH ... OH, YOUR COCK!" The aroused blonde clutched at the man who was giving her so much wild pleasure like a she-tiger, her long fingernails drawing blood. She cried out, "I'M GOING TO CUM! AND CUM AND CUM AND CUMMMM ... AS LONG AS YOU CAN FUCK!"
Wildly Julie screwed up and down his rampaging penis, feeling it piston into the very depths of her body as the wild climax went on and on and on. Looking down through the jiggling mounds of her ripe cone-shaped breasts, she could see his penis slamming wetly into her lubricious cunt, his testicles swaying and slapping at the lewdly wide-stretched cheeks of her squirming buttocks.
Oh, she thought, this is animal ... but this is fucking!
She wanted his hot sperm boiling in a torrent deep into her tightly grasping cunt, filling her. If DeCosta pulled it out at the last moment and offered it to her soft lips, she would suck again, but this time she just wanted what she already had-a ramming, reaming hot plunging poker of male-flesh in her yearning pussy.
Blood was streaming from DeCosta's back and Julie Bourbon realized her own frenzied raking of fingernails had drawn it. She tried to lick it away as he slammed his penis deep into her eager body and her long curvaceous legs locked higher and higher around him and she kept cumming and cumming and cumming, crying out her insane pleasure at being fucked.
And then she felt his plundering cock swelling and flexing and with a hurting, slamming stroke, drive to the depths of her seething cunt and explode hot, stringy cum into her sucking vagina.
Still hard inside her, the security agent rolled her until they were again lying on their sides. Julie was still moaning softly as her orgasm diminished, and she kissed him deeply, feeling his hand stroke her sweating back.
"That never happened before," she mumbled. "I mean, not so much!"
"You are a lot of girl," he said. "For a girl like you, a man will fuck himself to death."
"Tell that to my husband," Julie Bourbon said, with bitternes. She found herself surprised. DeCosta had seemed so cold, like a machine. But when she had needed him he had come through, asking no questions, and she herself had invited the sex. The littered apartment told her he lived alone in the fleshpot of Las Vegas. Shyly, in the light of the carnality they had been through, Julie asked, "Do you mind if I clean up this place a little? It's a mess."
"The women they hire for maids here haven't been in for a week," he said. "I could put some heat on them."
"I'd rather do it myself," Julie said.
She set about cleaning and scrubbing and remade the bed with fresh linen. DeCosta shaved and showered and dressed in his gray-flannel suit, sliding a small pistol into his pocket and went off to work. Julie had the desk ring her apartment, and when there was no answer, went up there. She packed some essential clothes and hid them in a closet in DeCosta's studio, and then had duplicates made of the room key. She didn't know what they had but the instinct for survival told her to find a place to go in case Russ showed up in a rage. The proud girl with hair the color of wheat streaming behind her didn't want her marriage to break up ... but she wouldn't let herself be abused. Or used.
If Russ wanted to screw a scrawny little girl, let him.
Julie Bourbon knew she could always get a man for companionship or sex or both ... and that she could make her own way as a model if she felt like it or had to.
Now all that had happened seemed like a nightmare in which she was one of the principal performers. Her yielding to both Chris and Shawna, the terrible scene with Russ, and then hopping so eagerly into DeCosta's bed! A few days ago, Julie Bourbon couldn't have imagined herself doing any of these things, but they had all come to pass and she had to face it....
* * *
"Where the hell can that bitch be?" Russ Bourbon demanded as he slammed down the phone. The phone at their apartment had rung countless times. Julie wasn't in a jail or hospital. While Russ didn't for a minute blame her for being angry, he couldn't figure where she might have disappeared to, and this annoyed him. Chris and Shawna said only that they had lent her a car and that she might just be driving around, getting her head straight. At least there was no panic situation with his work-the answering service advised that no calls had come through, so he didn't have to worry about urgent work. The lean hard-muscled photographer cradled the phone, for one time not slamming it down in frustration and looked to the little naked girl in the rumpled bed.
God, but she was pretty! That smooth rounded ass and the slender legs and the small but perfectly formed breasts! And didn't she know how to use her body? Yes, she did!
He began to get hard, remembering the night. He slammed the flat of his strong hand down on her upturned ivory-hued buttocks and Mike sprang into the air, yelping. She had drifted off to sleep in exhaustion after they had tried everything they could think of. He watched the reddening marks left by his fingers and said, "Pretty ass."
"You don't have to beat it bloody," she retorted, rubbing the resilient globes. "Now make it happy."
She knelt on the bed, her cheek hard against the wrinkled sheet and reached back to spread the taut asscheeks wide and offer him the tiny rose of her anus. His penis rigid, Russ Bourbon mounted the little girl in a push-up position, bringing the blood-engorged head of his cock to the sensitive orifice. He grasped her hips and thrust violently.
"AAAAjjjjhhh!!!!" Mike cried out as the full length of his penis rammed violently up into her hot rectum and was buried to the hilt as his heavy balls slapped wetly into her cuntal furrow. He remained deeply sunk into her vitals, flexing his long cock and hearing her moan in mingled pain and pleasure before he began to slowly fuck in and out of her tight little asshole that gripped his cock like a wet velvet glove enclosing a rapacious iron hand. Mike's tongue wet her passionate lips as he twisted her head back and saw him doing it to her and she cried out, "Oooohhh ... make it slow and long, long, looonnnggg!!!"
As the jaded Russ Bourbon slid his cock deeply in and out of the hotly rippling flesh of the squirming, panting girl's anus, he thought he had never found fucking like this in his life! She groaned as the pale-pink flesh of her sphincter was drawn out of her body, wrapped like a condom around his prick, and then sighed as he filled her back passage to the hilt, all the time grinding and churning her beautiful asscheeks.
With something like this, who needed frigid Julie?
Julie in his mind became a piece of meat to be thrown to the wolves ... and he knew a number of wolves now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I think we fucked up," Chris Gael said as he cradled the phone. "Damn it, Russ went and shacked up with Mike! Dum-dum Julie got shaken when he wasn't home and called the security. And if what I heard is right, she's gotten fucked by that son-of-a-bitch DeCosta. You know the one I mean. Dresses like he was from the FBI. The motherfucker was a soldier of fortune but he keeps a low profile. He speaks soft, but he carries guns. And knives. And he knows every dirty trick in the business. He can pull any broad in Vegas when he feels like it, and he's got pull all the way up to the White House."
"I've heard of him," Shawna said, showing no emotion. DeCosta was one man she didn't want Chris to know about. He had screwed her relentlessly, endlessly, in every orifice once when Chris was away on a photo job.
And now he had little Julie!
Well, she could do worse ... at least he wasn't a whoremonger. He wouldn't put the beautiful young blonde on the street or in a house where she would have to fuck or suck any creep who picked her out of the line.
"The whole fucking thing is blown," Chris Gael said.
"Not necessarily," replied his salacious auburn-haired wife, realizing he was now thinking of money to be made. She combed her hair with her fingers and began to talk off the top of her head, beginning with, "It could get better and better for all of us."
"Lay it on me, babe," the photographer said. "All I know is how to click cameras. You count the money."
"Keep that in mind," Shawna said, grinning wickedly. "This is the way I see it, and chop me if I'm wrong.
"First, we needed Julie for some blue movies, and that meant we had to find work for Russ. We've got a lot of her on videotape already.
"Second, Russ would sell his grandmother's corpse for a dime. We know that.
"Third, we had Julie at the breaking point.
"Fourth, Russ made a getaway and fucked Mike.
"Fifth, if you heard it straight on the phone, Julie got shook up and bedded DeCosta, who is a mean bastard. I know him. He'd just as soon shoot you as look at you. But he's not square. He'll go for anything that can be covered. Understand?"
"Not all of it," Chris Gael replied.
"Oh, you stupid ass!" Shawna blurted in frustration. "Look, here's what we wanted. We wanted Julie for some film, which we have already, and we wanted Julie and Russ for playthings. Then Mike and DeCosta got into the act and there are complications. So we have to adjust. Change the script. Instead of just you and me making it with Russ and Julie, we have to work Mike and DeCosta into it. Julie's already broken and DeCosta has the morals of a rattlesnake. Mike will fuck. Not for money, but if she likes a man." The auburn-haired beauty grinned. "I'd bet ten dollars to a hole in a doughnut and half the hole back if you lose that you've fucked her."
"Never have," Chris Gael said thoughtfully. "I'll admit she hung the 'OUT TO LUNCH' sign on the door of Kellogg's office one day and gave me a beautiful blow-job. Wouldn't let me touch her, or take off any clothes. She just did it all with her mouth, and got me up there for at least an hour, ready to cum ... sort of playing with my prick. But when she wanted it, finally, she sucked like nothing in this world."
"I can't believe she ate the whole thing," Shawna said with a lascivious chuckle. "But 'in the situation which obtains,' as Lucius Bebee used to say, I think we should bring them all in. Organize an orgy, if you want to call it that. We all fuck and suck each other and the videotape is running from all angles and we've got a half-million dollars in our pocket."
"You think I'd ever suck a cock?" he demanded angrily.
"No ... and I don't think I'd want you if you did," the long-haired girl said, smiling and winking. "But you like to see me going down on other men ... or watch you eating cunt ... or see me make it with another girl. Lick her snatch while she eats me." She fingered through her long dark hair again and considered her husband seriously as she said, "I think you should try it, once! You'd never turn queer, I know that. But just experience having a cock in your mouth ... the hot cum ... realize what a girl feels when a prick rams down her throat. Oh, it's beautiful, once you learn how. Suck and kiss and lick and swallow the sweet cum. I really don't know why men want to eat pussy. I mean, there's not that much there! A girl just doesn't cum the way a man does, shooting it all into your mouth. It may taste sweet, but most of it is soft legs wrapped around the ears ... you should know."
"What I know or don't know amounts to a barrel of sour owl shit," he said angrily. "I wanted to grab that pair because she's beautiful and he can handle a camera and we both want a little variety in our fucking. I love to be in bed with you while another guy is fucking you! See you squirm and go wild with a new prick in your, cunt! A few of them make you cum, I know that, but then you're hotter for me. Hot like a forest fire. Your mouth sucks and your pussy grabs and your asshole won't let go of me!"
"That's what I love about you, Chris," Shawna said, her hands lewdly exploring him, teasing his rising penis. "You lie close to me in bed while some guy we've never met before fucks me out of my mind ... maybe both of you sandwich me, and you know how I dig that ... and it's so exciting for me!"
"Now you want me to organize an orgy involving people who won't get along," he said, savoring her erotic nature as he slapped at her bare asscheeks lightly. "You are the most beautiful broad I ever met."
"Lie back and think it all over and don't move a muscle. You figure out how to get Julie and Russ and Mike and DeCosta into bed with us in a friendly way." She gripped his hardening penis tightly. "And I'm going to do the number ... go down on you ... suck your cock for hours." She chuckled wickedly. "And don't you dare cum beore you've figured it all out."
"You damn tease," he said, pulling her head to his loins and feeling her soft warm lips enclose the head of his penis as her tongue explored. Chris Gael had known many women but this auburn-haired one was the best.
So open-minded.
She loved her sex but wouldn't cheat.
If she found a potential lover, she brought him home. Or her.
They went to bed together, however many.
Chris liked to watch her getting it rammed deep into her hot wet cunt, or sucking cock, or eating pussy. It-was nice when she brought a girl home-Shawna never picked up any dogs, they were all young and beautiful, and after she had eaten them out of their minds they were his. To fuck, or offer his cock to their hot wet lips while Shawna, waiting for just the right moment, pumped his phallus and he shot into their avidly sucking mouths.
He and Shawna shared.
Once she had found a living virgin and enticed her to the rancho.
A girl in her late teens, whom Shawna seduced with her mouth as Chris lay in the bed, watching Shawna's tongue spearing into the grinding, wet pussy. The girl was wild with passion and she kept cumming and cumming into Shawna's mouth until finally Shawna's eager glistening tongue tired and she panted to Chris, "She's cherry!"
"Huh?" he said.
"A virgin! She's never been fucked!" Shawna pawed at her hair. "No shit! I can't even get my tongue up her cunt! Climb on her and fuck her! She's hot and squirming!"
Chris Gael mounted the writhing young girl as Shawna guided his rampant cock into the soft, lubricious lips of her pussy. The girl screamed as the tender maidenhead burst under the thrust of his rigid cock and the blood began to run from her cunt onto the bedsheets. But as he poised himself over her trembling body and flexed his impaling penis in her tender young pussy, the girl had begun to groan in mingled pleasure and pain, and started to fuck her young cunt up the invading pole of male-flesh, panting. She was already wet, her cuntlips streaming with her juices as Chris Gael poised himself over the straining body an then fucked hard as he could up into the seething depths of her vagina.
"EEEEYYYYAAAAGGGGHHH!!!" the teenager had screamed as the rampantly reaming penis plunged into the forbidden parts of her virginal body. "YOU'RE HURTING MEEEE!"
Yet her young, strong legs were clamping his back as he fucked hard into her virgin cunt and she drove it up to meet every pummeling, jack-hammering stroke, feeling the tender inner flesh yield even as she bled around it. Shawna was kissing her and cuddling, caressing her breasts, comforting her while she writhed in pain and pleasure as her cunt was plundered.
And then Shawna had, after the explosion of their cumming together, knelt between her limply splayed legs and licked her tender vaginal lips clean of cum and blood.
They had slept together for nearly a week, experimenting. The girl borrowing Shawna's clothes when she wanted to go out for a walk.
She could cum easily, in minutes, spilling her hot sweet juice into their mouths, her smooth legs clamped to their burrowing faces.
She whimpered in pain the first time Chris screwed her in the ass, violently. But the pain turned quickly to pleasure and after that she wouldn't let him fuck her in her cunt. She was afraid of getting pregnant. But she delighted in kneeling before him and spreading her smooth asscheeks for the entrance of his cock, and once it had penetrated the elastic ring of her sphincter, fucking that way was beautiful, particularly when Shawna slithered onto the wrinkled sheets and spread her own beautiful legs and drew the auburn-haired lips of her pussy wide apart, showing the coral flesh inside. And the gentle hands, pulling at her head, drawing it down to the beautiful cunt while her ass was getting such a slow and beautiful fuck.
The virgin girl had been turned, in a few days, it seemed, into the most eager of cocksuckers and pussy-eaters, and one hell of a straight fuck. Or she would take it up the ass and love it.
And she disappeared.
Vanished.
The only thing she took was her suitcase.
"Where do you think she could have gone?" Shawna had asked her husband seriously. "That innocent young girl!"
"Probably to Nevada. Fucking for money is legal there, you know." He lit a cigarette and went on. "Get down on your knees and suck my cock, babe. She was good, but you're the best."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, my friend," Shawna said as she knelt and zipped his pants open, fishing greedily for his penis. It was hard and ready for her soft, wet mouth without any teasing. She loved it, devoured it as his hot, sweet cum spurted into her mouth and his hands pulled her bobbing head down to his loins. This was the beautiful part of their relationship as man and wife. Their sex together gave them so much pleasure, and having others join them was a bonus. It made no difference if the others were young girls or young men to Shawna. She had made only one inflexible rule.
Unless one or the other found it necessary to break in a new girl or man, they never fucked alone.
They always shared the same big bed. It was so exciting, getting fucked by two men at once, or both of them doing up the young girl.
It helped the financial picture too. The color tape cameras were always running, aimed at the big bed. The equipment and what was needed to keep it running had cost a fortune, but had paid for itself in less than a year, and the whole thing was foolproof.
No girl with a good reputation could possibly take them to court.
The young men were usually happy for the hospitality and would leave with a few dollars in their pockets and a memorable experience.
Most of the sessions were no more than half-hour blue movies. But Julie and Russ could be more. And if they could pull DeCosta and Mike in, they would make a fortune. Half a million, at least.
Chris Gael couldn't hold back. He fucked deep into his avidly sucking wife's mouth and thought how beautiful her straining lips were with his cum oozing from them. He loved the way her hot, wet tongue laved him after, before she rose from her knees to be kissed. He liked tasting himself in her mouth.
Her lips were so sweet after she had sucked. Shawna always held back enough cum to give him a honey kiss. Even when she would be going down on one of the young boys while he watched and maybe fucked her too, and he was really tasting another man's semen.
Once, after she had gone down on one of them and kissed him, letting hot, whitish cum drool into his sucking mouth, she had whispered, "You're a cocksucker by proxy!"
They both burst into laughter.
Now, her lips still wet with cum, Shawna said thoughtfuly, "How do we handle it?"
"Hit them all right between the eyes," her husband said.
* * *
It was easier said than done ... there were too many human factors involved. They had to consider the reactions of six people, themselves included, who were already emotionally involved to one extent or another. Finally they had to write it down on paper.
First, their own goal: Get Julie Bourbon and Russ Bourbon both as playthings and for photos.
Second, either ease DeCosta out or bring him in smoothly.
Third, use Micah ... but Mike wouldn't be easy to use. She was sharp as a surgeon's scalpel.
Russ and Julie were the weak ones.
Russ was hungry for money and recognition in his field.
Julie was just discovering her own sexuality. She would naturally be asking herself questions, and she could freak and blow it all.
A real chess game. Moving the pawns around.
After much scribbling, they agreed Russ was the vulnerable one, even more than Julie. He was hungry for money and status. Mike didn't give a damn. DeCosta was a deadly snake. There was the off chance he had fallen in love with Julie, and might fuck them up.
Eventually Chris and Shawna Gael agreed they should set up a party and play it by ear. There would be drinks and some pills and the tape cameras would be running....
* * *
Russ was thinking he might have made a mistake. While Mike was absolutely best he had ever run into in bed, she wasn't commercial. He might be able to use her in high-fashion layouts, but she would never come through the lenses as sexy as Julie. Julie had the smooth body, the tits, the ass for the slick men's magazines.
And there was no doubt about it, he had sure fucked up with Julie. Now he had to patch it, and do it in a way that didn't lose little Mike, because they both represented money.
Forcing a smile, he told Mike, "I've got to go fix it with Julie."
"I understand ... it's important," she said, stretching her lithe slender body. "I'm not sure I like you ... but come back when you want. You do a girl up nice."
"You're a nice girl to do up," Russ said, as he dressed. For goodbye, he bent and kissed her tender, sweet cunt instead of her mouth.
As the door closed firmly, the little girl began to cry softly, and then she slept again.
* * *
Julie was back in their apartment, waiting, reading a paperback book which didn't interest her.
"Julie, I-" Russ Bourbon began.
"Forget it," Julie said with a hardness she didn't know she possessed. "I'm not exactly a nun. Let's just not talk about it. Not yet-it's too soon." Her dark eyes studied her unfaithful husband, even as she realized she had been equally unfaithful. She said, "You must be hungry ... I don't imagine Mike fed you."
"No." He didn't want to ask how she knew.
"I'll fix something," she said in a flat tone. "Rock Cornish game chicken or pork chops?"
"Chicken would be fine," he said.
It was a nearly silent meal. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they had done, or try to disguise it with trivialities.
The only attempt at communication came when Julie, scraping their plates, said, "Russ, do you think we can go on together?"
"Maybe. I'd like to." He shook his head. "You were always so uptight about sex ... and then to see you making it with Shawna...."
"It was something that happened."
His voice and eyes didn't betray his knowledge of her episode with DeCosta. "I won't say to just forget it, but we can put it aside."
"Or try. What about living together now?" the pale-haired girl asked seriously. "We only have one bed. I'm not ready to have you touch me yet."
"One thing I've never been accused of is rape," Russ said.
The slept in the same bed without touching.
Russ masturbated in the late hours, thinking of his cock in the soft, sweet mouth of Mike.
Julie Bourbon used her fingers, thinking of DeCosta. She wanted his cock in her cunt, and knew she could go to the other studio and have him there, without argument, but she was troubled and thought it best to seek a secret place for herself until she got her mind straight.
* * *
Several days passed, during which they didn't touch each other, yet worked together amicably as photographer and model. Sometimes, with an unquenchable burning in her loins, Julie Bourbon slipped down to DeCosta's apartment and into his bed where she wildly made love to him and groaned in wanton pleasure as his cock split her belly or stretched her gulping lips, but hardly a word passed between them.
DeCosta, well aware of the Cosa Nostra saying to the effect that fish die by their mouths, kept his shut. He was somewhat amused by the fact that after a steaming session of exotic sex, the tousle-haired blonde beauty insisted on cooking him a meal with ingredients she herself had brought, and then thoroughly cleaning his pad.
"You'd make a nice wife," he said once, reaching out from the bed to smack the flat of his hand across the luscious curve of her naked asscheeks, making her jump and yelp.
"Don't tempt me, I might say 'yes' and you'd have to talk your way out of it;" Julie said, liking the way her rump tingled. As she unceremoniously yanked the sheets from the bed, almost spilling her Italian lover onto the floor, she said, "How any man can be so squeaky neat on the job and live in a hog pen like this, I don't know!"
"Maybe so you'll come down and feed me and clean up," he said, flashing his white teeth.
"I come here to get laid-and you know it!" Julie said boldly. She'd found she could speak whatever came into her head with DeCosta; communicate with him much deeper than with Russ. She thought it sort of funny that they'd never had a date, never sneaked off for a matinee at a motel or anything. He had been just a little bit surprised when he found she had had a key made for herself and brought some clothes for an emergency. She could have asked first, of course, but he didn't mind. She was pleasant to have around ... not prying, not telling him sad stories, just looking for a little casual affection and sex. And she was loosening up a lot there, almost like a child with a new toy. He liked the way she preferred to be naked with him, clothed in nothing but the long mass of golden hair. The way she would impulsively turn to him and kiss his penis, or pull his face to the sweet, silken furrow of her cunt for a kiss and then go on with whatever she happened to be doing.
* * *
Chris and Shawna Gael went about setting up their cup like Pentagon brass planning a major war. They tried to think of everything. DeCosta could be the fly in the ointment and Chris was for cutting him out. But Shawna, who had spread some money around and asked questions, knew Julie Bourbon was discreetly spending hours alone with DeCosta in his apartment. She argued that if they were going to pull little Micah in, then it would be good to have the group evenly balanced. Three men and three girls. Chris had finally agreed, but asked, "How do we get DeCosta? Mike will make the scene ... she'd walk ten miles for a fuck ... but that DeCosta...."
"I'll get him," Shawna said.
It was easy as she had expected. She simply went to the hotel-casino where he worked and waited, playing low-stakes blackjack until he appeared. She knew how he had turned on the few times they had been together, and she got him aside.
"Want to join a mini-orgy?" she asked. "Your friends will be there."
"Oh?" His eyebrows rose slightly, asking, "What friend?"
"Julie Bourbon. Myself. Chris and Russ and Mike."
"I'll have to drink that over," DeCosta said, heading for the bar. He used a chit to get an orange juice in a tall glass and sipped it slowly. Finally he passed the 21 table where Shawna was pondering whether to hit a hard sixteen, looking at a ten-up. He nodded imperceptibly. DeCosta's decision had been made on two factors. He had become honestly fond of the naive young blonde and was under no illusion about Shawna and Chris-they were in all likelihood planning to set her up for something and he felt the urge to protect her. Second, he liked his sex, and any orgy involving Mike, Shawna and Julie would be well laced with it.
As an added bonus, he might be presented with an excuse to punch Russ Bourbon in the nose. He had come to know Julie well, and realized she wasn't a hot-pants tramp. Although she kept her troubles to herself, the fact that she was coming to his apartment and so grateful that he would screw her meant that her husband was, one way or another, a prick who needed a good swift kick in the ass.
A date convenient to all was found.
Chris Gael imported a very competent photographer who could handle one of the big Arriflexes behind the two-way mirrors, and keep his mouth shut.
CHAPTER NINE
It began in later afternoon, almost twilight, when over the distant mountains to the west, thunderheads were mushrooming in the light of the setting sun. Black and ominous on top, their fat bottoms reflecting the day's light.
There was an atmosphere of impending storm around the tree-shaded pool as the Oriental house-boy passed drinks and snacks. Heat waves still shimmered in the desert sands surrounding the rancho. The talk was nervous until the first few drinks took hold.
Chris and Shawna were wondering whether they could pull it off.
Micah was wondering if the leggy blonde was going to accuse her of trying to steal Russ. Now that she knew him better, Mike had concluded she didn't want him-he was in love with himself. Although he kept insisting she was the only one he could get really long-lasting hard for, she sensed there would be another girl in a few months. Meanwhile, he did fuck her beautifully and she had come to believe he even liked her little breasts. She had given some thought and a lot of appraising glances to her bosom lately and concluded that even though her tits were small, they did fit the rest of her. And they were firm, with no suggestion of sagging, ever. And certainly very responsive. Just a touch of his lips to the berry-like nipples was enough to make her almost blow her mind. Mike had read a lot of erotic books, in most of which the heroine sooner or later got screwed between the tits, usually with the man raising up at the last second to jam his jerking, spurting cock between her eagerly open lips or cumming all over her face and in her hair. Well, that could never happen to her, because, well formed or not, her breasts were still too small to be squeezed around a long, thick, grinding cock.
Russ Bourbon was apprehensive, and not quite sure why both he and Julie had been invited. Although they had kept their domestic problem as quiet as possible, he knew the Vegas grapevine had picked it up and the word must have spread a long way, because twice he'd had calls from New York advertising agencies who wanted Julie to model ... but maybe that was just the result of enthusiastic reception of the layout he'd done for the fag rag merchant. What hurt was neither agency had asked him to handle the camera work.
Julie, who had never heard about the job offers, was equally uncomfortable, surrounded as she was by her lover, her husband's mistress and her host and hostess, with whom she had had the wildest sex experience of her life.
Only DeCosta was at ease, his Latin face showing nothing of whatever he might be feeling. He didn't consider it a crunch situation. There was nothing any of these people could take from him ... they could only give. He had nothing for them to steal. His cop's mind kept wondering why he had been invited and he looked for signals from Shawna, but none had come through. He tried to fish it out, even reaching back to his days of government service and considering the off-chance that this could be a part of an elaborate conspiracy to discredit him as a potential witness in some court cases which were pending ... very important cases, penetrating deep into the vitals of the Pentagon and both houses of Congress and even the White House itself, and he finally discarded this line of thought. There were other intelligence agents who could give the same testimony, and document it.
Well, time would tell. He felt confident of taking care of himself.
The houseboy brought more drinks, chilled shakers of Margaritas and other with Pernod and then as the sun went down and the moon came up, red heaters turned on to warm the tiles around the pool, making a dim, hellish light.
* * *
Julie was feeling the drinks a little, relaxing. She felt her courage building and thought this would be a fine time to have it all out with Russ. But they were guests, and what she wanted to say wasn't the sort of thing brought up at parties unless everybody is blind drunk, which none of them were.
She was glad when a substantial but simple dinner of cold meats and cheeses and delicious things she couldn't quite identify arrived on a wheeled cart, along with refreshingly dry light wines, which went quickly and relaxingly to her head. She found herself sitting next to little Micah and the sort of impulse that often comes to the slightly, pleasantly intoxicated, struck her. The taffy-haired girl just had to clear the air. Sipping from a glass of perfectly chilled Chablis, she reached to touch Mike on the leg and said, "Can we talk? I mean here, quietly."
"You've been wanting to all afternoon," the tiny girl said. "Let's air it out."
"I know what's going on ... you do, too ... do you want Russ? No strings, no bitterness." Julie fought back tears.
Mike chewed thoughtfully on a sliver of smoked Smithfield ham and said thoughtfully, "No ... at first it was exciting, having a man as handsome as Russ even look at little me! But if I could take him from you, he wouldn't be worth having." Her slender fingers caressed Julie's near naked body. "I don't think he can love, and you're finding that out the hard way. Girl talk, Julie. Now you look at me. Can you imagine a man like Russ getting hard, really hard for this skinny morsel? God, there just has to be some perversion in him, but I'm not Freud or Jung and couldn't guess at it. But when I feel his cock srewing up into my cunt, almost tearing me in half, he's so violent, I feel like a woman!" She formed a wry grin with her beautiful, heavy-lipped mouth. "And I guess you know that's the bottom line."
For a long minute Julie studied the little dark-haired girl and saw something in her. It was subtle and yet honest.
"Mike, I just realized something," Julie Bourbon whispered. "You're beautiful. I think you could have any man you wanted ... or any woman."
"Is that an offer?" Mike said, joking.
"It-it might be," the distressed young blonde murmured after some thought. "I've only made love with a woman once-I might as well tell you that it was Shawna-I never thought I could do that but it was beautiful. I don't know how to explain it." She turned to look deep into the other girl's eyes in the pale light. "I mean there was tenderness and friendship and, well, a delicious sexual satisfaction too. Kissing and licking her all over was ... so fulfilling."
"And you feel you want to make love with me?" Mike said, unable to believe her ears.
Julie felt an insane surge of desire to possess this little girl who had captivated her husband.
"Intensily," she whispered, and found her fingers sliding up Mike's inner thighs and working obscenely under the elastic band of the bikini bottom, seeking the soft wetness of pussylips. "As soon as we can."
"Let's go into the house," Mike said, and then, laughing softly, "but not hand in hand until we're out of sight."
* * *
At poolside, Chris and Shawna Gael looked at each other and with cocked eyebrows, imperceptibly nodded.
DeCosta observed but gave no sign.
Russ Bourbon missed the whole thing, being occupied with a drink and the logistical problems of achieving an objective. He had decided he wanted to fuck Shawna, which meant he would somehow have to separate the auburn-haired beauty from the others ... and for a good long time. Even though he had the arrangement with Chris Gael, he was still confronted with the possibility of either his wife or his near-midget friend catching them. And he didn't like the way DeCosta was being so quiet, apparently seeing and hearing all, but saying only enough to be polite.
It took him several minutes to realize that Julie and Mike had both disappeared, probably to the rest room. He hoped Mike had sense enough to keep her cocksucking mouth shut! He thought she did. Vaguely he remembered the two of them whispering and touching.
Jesus! Could it be that they are...?
Oh, never! Julie's had the one lesbian experience, and she had been maneuvered into that, would never have even considered it if she had been sober. And if there was anyone in the world she had a right to hate, it was Micah. Maybe they had just gone off to quietly scratch and bite each other.
* * *
"Let's use the master bedroom," Mike said as a trembling Julie grasped her hand tightly. "From the pool they can't see the lights there ... and I want you with the lights on."
"Oh, yes," mumbled Julie, feeling the passion rise in her loins. She had some reservations about returning to this room where she had had the explosive lesbian encounter with Shawna but as soon as they were inside and the door closed and she saw herself with the tiny dark-haired girl, alone, she felt it only could be nothing but good. "I want to hold you and kiss you," Julie whispered, pulling Mike's slenderly curvaceous body to her. The smaller girl raised her parted lips, her tongue flickering wetly over them. With a groan of perverted desire, Julie Bourbon drove her gaping mouth down, felt the hot softness and the spearing little tongue. She knew her knees were shaking as her lasciviously seeking hands stroked Mike's smooth-fleshed back and worked at the ties of her bikin bottom.
"Ummmmm...." Julie moaned, sucking the darting tongue deep into her mouth. "Get the top part off!"
Melding to her, Mike deftly undid the skimpy brassiere of Julie's swimsuit as their straining bodies undulated together and Julie's obscenely fumbling fingers stripped away the bottom of her bikini and sought the warmth and sweet wetness of Mike's pussy.
The utter, ironic perversion of the situation brought Julie Bourbon to a peak of desire she had never felt before.
She was in bed with her husband's girl friend while he was no more than a hundred feet away.
She wanted to caress and kiss the cunt that he had caressed and kissed.
Her lips and tongue and fingers lewdly explored as the little girl writhed in rising desire, her own hands and lips roaming.
"I'm going to eat you," Julie said, shocked at her own words.
"Oooohhhh ... Yeeeesssss," Micah whispered. "And I want to eat you, too. Do you hate me?"
"I don't know," Julie Bourbon whispered as her wet lips sought the tiny buds of Mike's breasts. "I really don't know." As her soft, hot mouth began to move lower and lower, she mumbled her words around her urgently laving tongue. "I should ... you know ... but hate, love, so close ... now I love you...."
Slowly she parted the dark-haired girl's trembling thighs and knelt between them. She stared at the tiny slit of her pussy and wondered how it had been able to expand and take her husband's cock. Nuzzling against the hot wetness of Mike's thighs, she slowly spread the fleshy, pulsing cunt-lips and gazed at the pearly, coral-hued inner flesh, and her nostrils flared as Julie scented the woman.
"Ooooohhhhh...." the aroused blonde groaned, as her soft mouth opened and her tongue darted out through her fine white teeth to seek the sweetness. She sighed as she felt the tender thighs of the other girl close around her head, and delicate fingers combing through her tousled wheat-blonde hair. Her eager tongue slashed and swirled, seeking the juices and then the trembling clitoris.
Her hands moved on the bed, spreading the quivering smoothly rounded asscheeks, and impulsively Julie jerked the other girl up to her mouth and ran her tongue up and down the wide-splayed buttocks. Even as she alternately lashed and licked and speared into the two orifices, Julie was wondering what she had become.
Evil!
Depraved!
But she needed this! This heady aroma of woman, this sweet juicy, tight little cunt to suck and lick....
If only somebody would fuck her now....
* * *
The hidden tape cameras were running, and the imported photog was moving behind the two-way mirrors with the heavy Arriflex. Although he was homosexual, he was excited at seeing the two beautiful girls making it, with Julie's tongue spearing in to its fullest in the seeping, clenching lips of the small girl's pussy ... the way her face was wet with the other's vaginal secretions. He filmed it all, as the taffy-haired girl was urged to swing around so Mike could lick her cunt too. It looked like they could go at each other all night, but he had his instructions. Using the zoom lens he came in tight on the wet shots, the tongues delving into cunts and asscheeks, until the film ran out. Expertly he replaced the reels and silently slipped outside to give the sign to Chris Gael, A second camera was loaded in case the first one ran out of film at a crucial moment.
* * *
Julie and Mike were locked tightly, lips to loins, grinding against each other in wild lesbian passion when the door to the huge bedroom opened and the scantily clad group slipped in. Julie was so entranced by tasting the heady woman-flesh that she never heard it until suddenly they were surrounding the bed.
Her husband, Russ, lewdly fondling the full ripe mounds of Shawna. Rolling her long nipples between his fingers.
Chris and her own lover DeCosta grinning as the flat of her delving tongue froze in the hot slit of Mike's churning pussy.
"Why stop now?" Russ said. He was peeling his jeans off. "Let's all have a party!"
Dazed, still under the influence of the Pernod and other things she had consumed, the hotly aroused young taffy-haired girl was stunned as she gazed between the lubriciously sweathing thighs of Mike and saw them all stripping their swimming suits off.
"Oh, my God!" Julie gasped as the bed rocked with their weight. The three men were fully, magnificently erect, and Shawna's cunt, fringed with its contrasting auburn hair, glistening with the moistness of desire. She wondered if this could be a dream ... but no, their flesh was too real. She felt herself pressed between male and female bodies and lips and tongues and teeth and fingers, all seeming to reach the most sensitive part of her body. She squirmed and groaned and kissed and licked in return, moaning, "Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!"
Whatever morality she once possessed vanished in that moment.
"I'M CUMMMIINNNGG ... CUUMMIINNGG ... CUUUMMMIINNNGGG!!!" she cried out, furiously grinding up her loins to whatever lips were sucking her cunt. "OH, FUCK MEEEE!"
She found herself cumming into the anonymous lips. Gushing from the flowering petals of her pussy ... and all that did was increase her need for a long, thick, hard cock ramming into her suddenly wanton flesh.
But they denied this to her ... and they took passionate little Micah away.
In a daze, she saw Mike pulled into a kneeling position on the big bed, her face over Russ' loins, and then the incredible length of his cock ramming into her wide-stretched lips even as Chris Gael knelt behind her wildly waving ass and rammed his penis smooth and deep into the hot, wet depths of her rectum, hardly causing the little girl to miss a beat in the steady plunging of her avid mouth up and down the rigid phallus.
"Oh, I can't believe it!" Julie whispered, even knowing that she was very much a part. Her tender young cunt burned. Strangely, she felt no jealousy at seeing her husband being fellated by the girl she had just tasted minutes before. She was fascinated by the way Mike's rectal passage clamped like a hot velvet glove wetly around the rampaging thick cock that was drilling into it.
This was the wildest thing that had ever happened!
Her own cunt was on fire.
Seeing the little girl sucking cock and getting fucked in the ass pushed her past the boiling point and almost pitifully the aroused young blonde looked to Shawna and DeCosta and mumbled, "I need ... need ... Ooooohhhh ... fuck!" She licked her cum-glistening lips and gasped, "Both of you!"
They moved to her, reaching, caressing her tingling flesh. Kissing and lewdly stroking her breasts and between her writhing legs. DeCosta moved to mount her and aimed his ready penis at her lubricious cunt, but Julie pushed and kicked.
"No!" she cried. "I want it like she's getting it! Up my ass! I've never had it that way! Fuck my ass, DeCosta!"
"Roll over and get up on your knees," he said eagerly, stroking the long, thick shaft of his manhood. "Shawna, you hold her, because she'll yell when I go in."
Shawna held her in a very effective way, clamping Julie's face between her strong thighs so that the aroused blonde wife's lips were pulled tight to her cunt, as Julie's smooth asscheeks waved in the air.
"Uuuuugggghhhh!!!!" Julie gasped, her lips savoring the pussy as the first pain came. She knew it was only a finger, stretching the rubbery sphincter muscle, but it hurt! It twirled around, going deeper and deeper ... and then there was a second finger. Held prisoner by the strong legs and hands gripping her tangled hair, she couldn't stop licking the deliciously gushing slit that Shawna was undulating tantalizingly against her mouth. And then the fingers were withdrawn from her wide-stretched anus and she sighed with relief. She couldn't understand how Mike was taking it up the ass so easily, only inches away from her in the big bed.
Then she felt the soft rubbery pressure of the cockhead press between her clenching asscheeks, and after the roughness of the fingers it felt good ... and Julie really wanted to try it!
But she didn't realize how long and hard the prick would be.
The fingers had stretched her sensitive flesh until it opened readily now, but she gasped and stopped her licking and kissing and tried to cry out that it was too thick!
"Keep eating my pussy, baby ... you'll love it, after a minute," Shawna murmured, pulling Julie's head back to her seething cunt. "Just relax
... if you've never fucked in the ass, you don't know a thing about fucking."
"Ooooohhhh ... aaaaahhhhh...." Julie groaned, her tongue again seeking the wet, hot furrow of Shawna's grinding cunt even as the impaling phallus slowly penetrated her tight virgin anus. She felt DeCosta's strong hands gripping the grinding cheeks of her buttocks as inexorably he pressed his cock, hard as a bar of iron, into her torturously stretched asshole.
"Uuuuuggghhh ... Oooohhhh!!!!" the aroused taffy-haired girl groaned in agony. In a mirror from the corner of her eye she could see her beautiful face held captive by the clutching thighs and hands of Shawna while DeCosta's hands held her squirming hips in a vise-like grip and his long cock slowly bored into her tender little anus. God! She had never imagined anything so salaciously obscene, so humiliating, could happen to her! Yet in the sheer vile perversion of it, mingled with the pain, there was excitement and arousal. She felt the flexing of his cock in her ass, stretching her sphincter even wider, and then the lunging of his body as he rammed all of it into her softly yielding flesh to the hilt. It seemed like her quaking belly was split in two, and with her wet mouth held tight to Shawna's surging cunt, she tried to scream but there was hardly any sound ... and Shawna was cumming in her mouth, gushing with the sweetness of Vermont maple syrup and Julie Bourbon was sucking and swallowing and wildly driving her hot wet tongue into the depths of the flexing vagina so aroused by the other girl's climax that she forgot the pain in her rectum. Oh, how sweet it was!
Her mind reeled ... and when reality returned, the aroused young wife realized DeCosta was immobile, barely flexing the mushroom-shaped head of his cock in her asshole, not screwing it. The excitement of tasting Shawna's cum had freed her constricted muscles and the pain of impalement had begun to turn to wildly erotic pleasure, a sort she had never felt before.
DeCosta's throbbing penis was jammed so tight in her clenching ass that his semen-heavy balls were mashed against the flowering lips of her cunt, the hair on them tickling the wildly aroused bud of her clitoris. Scant inches away she could see the wet length of Chris Gael's cock reaming and ramming mercilessly into the wildly gyrating asscheeks of little Mike ... while Mike's distended lips sucked furiously on the rigid pole of her own husband's prick!
Fighting her way free of the tightly clamping thighs of Shawna, her lips sweet and dripping with the auburn-haired girl's cum, Julie Bourbon writhed and undulated her hips against the un-moving cock buried in her anus and cried, "Ooo-oohhhh ... Why don't you fuck me hard, the way she's getting it! Now it feels so good all the way up my ass!"
It was frustrating, seeing little Micah get it so hard, each pile-driving stroke of Chris Gael's into her lubricious asshole driving her tiny body forward and down so that Russ' cock was jammed hard into her eager mouth ... so hard that her lips were swollen and even split just enough so that a thin stream of blood oozed from them, as her pretty face was completely filled with cock, like she was feasting on a baseball bat!
"Relax, pretty blonde girl," DeCosta said, grinding slowly into her churning ass. "We've thought of giving you a hell-of-a-lot more than Mike's getting!" He nodded to Shawna and said, "She's ready now ... move out!" To Russ he said, "Sandwich time, my friend."
Confused, Julie had no idea of what they were talking about. All she knew was that Shawna had squirmed away, depriving her now eager lips of the delicious cunt and she was being rolled around like a toy until DeCosta was beneath her, holding her by her burning hot breasts as her legs splayed wide and he sank his cock even deeper into her tightly clutching little anus and his maleness ground hotly into her vitals.
Russ pulled his saliva-wet rigid spear of manhood from the gulping lips of the little girl and moved to kneel between her legs, rolling the wet, fleshy foreskin back over the bulbous knob of his prick.
Suddenly the terrifying reality came to her! They were both going to fuck her at once! DeCosta in her now-eager ass, and her husband in her cunt!
It would tear her tender flesh, rip her apart!
"Noooooo-Please don't!" the terrified blonde pleaded, twisting and trying to free herself. But DeCosta held her with the strength of a devil, offering her wide-stretched cuntlips to her husband. She felt his cockhead (why was it he could be hard so long and beautifully now in this sort of situation when he couldn't satisfy her alone?) pressing between the quivering wet lips of her pussy. Julie Bourbon panted with desire and groaned with pain as her photographer-husband, grinning like a satyr, thrust his hips forward and the mushroom-shaped head of his penis rammed into the softly yielding lips of her palpitating glistening vagina. She screamed, Aaaauuuggghh!!"
A second lunge. It felt like a full-grown redwood tree as it rammed into her tender cuntal flesh, hard alongside the cock in her ass. Tears of pain flooded her dark, frightened eyes as she was literally sandwiched between the two rapacious men. She could feel their iron-hard penises swelling and flexing, separated only by the thin mebranes of her vaginal and rectal passages.
They began to fuck her, seeking a rhythm.
In and out of her two straining orifices the flesh-splitting phalluses slid, smoothly as the pistons of an old-time steam-locomotive, before die-sels took over.
The trembling, sobbing honey-haired girl felt herself being rolled on her side, and that position made it easier to accommodate the brutal double impalement. Dimly she realized Chris was still screwing Micah in the ass, and the little girl was moaning with pleasure, ramming her taut buttocks back to meet every stroke of his plunging penis, while Shawna was smoking a hand-rolled cigarette with a strange sweetish aroma and stroking the glistening furrow of her cunt as she watched them all.
Julie felt like a tennis ball at Wimbledon as her husband and her lover found the rhythm.
One rammed his rampant cock into her ass as the other withdrew from her cunt until only the bulbous head remained inside her wet, straining flesh, and then the reverse happened. She could dimly hear the liquid sounds of their fucking.
Suddenly, inexplicably, it became wildly wonderful!
"OOOOHHHH ... FUUCCKK MEEEEEE!!!" the aroused blonde model cried in rising ecstasy, joining in the wanton, erotic beat. She ground her churning, clenching ass back, screwing hard as she could on the impalement of DeCosta's penis, then fucked violently up the slippery hardness of her husband's phallus, feeling their balls smack hard against the lubricious lips of her cunt and her sweating asscheeks. She screamed, "I WANT YOUR COCKS!!!"
Wildly buffeted between the two, she had even more salacious desires. She managed to grab at Shawna and pull her close. Shawna, with a knowing smile, did what Julie Bourbon wanted.
She writhed and squeezed into the churning mass of flesh, offering her cunt to Julie's searching tongue, grinding deliciously against the taffy-haired girl's wetly eager mouth and skillfully massaging the tender out-thrust mounds of her breasts and contorting herself so she could bend to kiss the spike-like sensitive nipples.
* * *
Julie thought she'd never stop cumming.
It was an endless thing, the eruption from deep inside, like a volcano blowing its top for days on end, as the three of them expended their own passions on her yearning young body. She was dimly aware that Chris and Micah had exhausted themselves long ago and were lying, slick with sweat, his cock still between her clenching asscheeks, watching, and this made it more exciting.
The sheer sensual ecstasy of the tactile encounter finally forced Julie into a faint.
She never suspected the homosexual photographer behind the mirror with the Arri sound camera.
He, in turn, had tired of its nearly fifty pounds on his shoulder, set it up on a tripod, still whirring, and, opening his pants, masturbated.
He even thought it might be interesting if he could establish a relationship with an understanding girl. He wondered what it would be like to have a girl suck him. And to taste cunt. He thought that maybe he wasn't really gay, just deprived. He'd really like to be straight. As the cum spurted from his frustrated penis, he made a decision ... he would ask Chris to fix him up with either the blonde or the little girl who was almost like a boy. He was sure he could get excited enough to screw them in the ass, particularly the little one.
If he got through that, they could go down on each other, and by that time they might understand his problem, and help him to fuck. Be sympathetic.
He was sure that even if the attempt failed, and he couldn't really have sex with a woman, it would be an encounter, an experience well worth having....
CHAPTER TEN
Julie Bourbon hardly blinked when she saw the rushes of the film.
She knew now what she was. Accepted it, and thought she liked her sexuality.
She found herself liking everybody! Even Russ and Mike.
It had been a shock when she discovered what they had all done together had been filmed, but her dismay had dissipated as she sat in the projection room of Chris and Shawna's big house and relived it in living color on the screen.
Strangely, she was not upset.
The taffy-haired young wife had instantly agreed to let some film clips be used by Carleton Harris' magazine as she sat with her arm possessively around little Micah, cupping a tiny breast. She had found the road to love and acceptance of herself had many turnings, but was slightly annoyed when Chris Gael intruded, asking her to meet the young, almost invisible, but good-looking man who had operated the projector. His name was Paul, and he seemed to be very shy, hardly able to look her in the eye. He was certainly handsome, but there was something about him.
Chris diplomatically explained the situation and Julie felt sorrow for the young man. She said, "Yes ... I'd love to, if you'll have me." She paused and added, "I don't care if you're gay!"
They went to a bedroom where there were no mirrors and with a freedom she didn't think she had, Julie said, "I want to be naked with you."
She slipped her thin shortie dress off and slid her gossamer lace-edged panties down her shapely legs as he stood and stared.
"Oh, come on, Paul," she said gently, and began to undress him, as he stood, trembling. As his slacks dropped to the floor, she dropped to her knees, her now-skilled fingers caressing his male body. His penis was limp. She fondled it and felt response. She rolled the thick foreskin back over the bell-shaped head and murmured, "You're BEAUTIFUL!"
She kissed the velvet softness and took it into the hot wet cavern of her mouth and felt it grow.
She felt her new power as a woman, knowing this was for her, that she was making it happen. Julie wanted him to cum in her hungry mouth, but knew he needed more than that.
He needed to know he could fuck a woman.
He was rigid as the trunk of an oak as she rose and pulled him to the bed and then on top of her and before he could detumesce, deep into her lubricious cunt.
"OOOOHHHH ... THIS IS GOOOODDDD!!!" the aroused girl cried, screwing tightly up the pole of his male-flesh. She clawed and clutched and kissed and bit and her legs scissored wildly in the air as she cried out, "UUUMMM ... OH, PAUL!! FUCK MEEEEE!!!!"
Suddenly he was a demon plunging into the soft, yielding saddle of her splayed thighs, his penis driving endlessly into her dripping cunt like bullets from a machine gun, until suddenly she felt the swelling and lengthening of his cock and its hot, sweet spurting.
"Oh, God," the sweating blonde murmured, holding him tight, her legs scissored around his sweat-damp back. "I've never had it like that before. Never, Paul." Dazedly she rolled her deep dark eyes, clutching and kissing his sweating body. Tenderly Julie brushed his tumbled hair back as she whispered, "You only thought you were gay!"
"Oooh, your cunt ... your beautiful cunt!" he breathed. "You know, I think I can do it again, Julie."
"OOOOhhhh ... YEEEESSSS!" she whispered, beginning to undulate as she felt him growing hard again in her seething pussy. "DO IT ... DO IT ... OH, PAUL, FUCK MEEEEE!!!"
* * *
The film and tapes were edited and some transition scenes and dialogue were worked out. When Julie saw herself, she realized that with a good photog and editor, she was much more than a model ... she was really an actress; that her unleashed sexuality came through. To her, Russ was almost a robot ... there was a coldness in the scenes where he appeared. Chris Gael, by the time he and Paul had finished cutting the film and tapes and looping in sound, confessed with a grin that he had set it all up to get blue-movie material but this he would hold.
Show at Cannes, get worldwide recognition.
What had started out as a sneaky porn project had, with judicious editing, become a beautiful love story, orbiting around a lovely but repressed young girl awakening to her own sexuality.
And Julie Bourbon was the star.
She knew it was good, because it was real. She hadn't been acting. The feelings of passion and humiliation were undeniable.
A lawyer was called and came to prepare contracts. None of them noticed when Russ Bourbon left. He was suddenly gone, and the only thing any of them later knew of him was that his name appeared on the masthead of Carleton Harris' magazine as chief photographer.
Julie didn't cry. She felt some sorrow because her dream had broken, but now she had new friends. She could touch and kiss and they could to the same to her and it was all beautiful. The movie, finally titled, THE GIRL picked up a couple of awards at Cannes, was banned in Boston, Kansas City and San Diego, and was an instant success.
After Russ disappeared, Julie Bourbon had to face the problem of finding living quarters. Moving in with DeCosta wasn't practical, and she hated the hotel anyway. The deserted wife finally opted to stay where she was wanted, with Chris and Shawna Gael. Paul was staying there also, working on new films and exploring his newfound maleness. Micah kept her own small apartment, but slept there on a few occasions, usually sliding into the bed with the others. DeCosta came when he had a chance.
Julie found it a lovely arrangement. Nobody jealous or demanding. In the dim, mirrored bedroom, lighted only by a candle, soft lips would begin to kiss the sensitive flesh of her legs and then engulf her flowering cunt ... or a rock-hard penis might rub across her lips until she awakened enough to lick and suck as it slid smoothly into the depths of her throat ... or a cock easing into her always-ready pussy.
She really liked two things.
Paul was interested only in the woman now, and how he could fuck! Whatever hangup he had had was wiped out, and she felt good about that.
She liked the freedom to be herself and yet feel she belonged. Russ had tried to use her and keep her in a cage. She was honestly glad he had decided to go away.
It was so good, being able to do the natural things.
Walk naked in the sun. Swim naked in the pool. Be casually kissed on the breasts or belly or cunt by any of them, and do the same, with no shame.
Touch and be touched, kiss and be kissed, and return the love.
This is life, she thought as she sat with legs crossed in the full lotus and the sun burned her skin and bleached her hair.
