"Do the same to me," begged Jeanie, her voice thick with desire. "The way I'm dong it to you."
The other girl obeyed, if only because she wanted Jeanie's hands to continue massaging, to stroke the sleek warmth of her inner thighs, to reach down to deep that it felt as if she were transported to Paradise.
"Do you like it?" asked the girl.
May admitted it was the most wonderful feeling she ever knew. There was no instinctive revulsion as she would have felt if a boy touched her. May loved every bit of it. She responded as lips kissed her throat, then seized one of her rounded globes, nibbled at the rose tip.
"Ohhhh," moaned Jeanie, threshing wildly on the bed, her hot and anxious body naked and filled with a savage yearning. Her hands did things to Jeanie as her breast was whipped by May's tongue.
Both girls knew they could not control themselves much longer. In a moment, the explosive summit was reached!
"WE'RE BOTH LESBIANS," thought May wildly. "LESBIANS!'
"The age of a woman doesn't mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddle;
-S. Z. ENGEL
CHAPTER ONE
Her name was May Kramer.
She stood in front of the full length mirror in the small Bedroom atop the two-story farmhouse that had been home to her ever since she was born-and was still the only home she knew even though her father had died a few years ago and her mother re-married out of sheer desperation since she needed someone to run the farm. May retained the surname of Kramer out of defiance to her stepfather, a hulking, leering man with a son older than she was and a daughter about her own age. May was frightened of her stepfather-the way his beady eyes looked through the cheap cotton dress she wore, as if stripping her naked with his eyes.
May was alternately frightened and strangely stimulated by her stepbrother, Jeff who was handsome in a savage way, with thick broad shoulders, sharp eyes that had an intimate way of looking at her just as his father-and a pair of hands that were like flat boards of wood.
Jeff always wore baggy overalls-and nothing underneath! When working among the rows of corn and vegetables under the hot Iowa sun, Jeff's strongly bronzed body was alive with animal strength. Power oozed with each movement.
Jeff had an animal way about him, too. It always made May feel that he was not "all there." Especially when, after a hot day of plowing and hoeing in the fields, he would make it to the barn, shrug out of his overalls and nakedly turn the water hose on himself, washing as intimately as though he were alone in the bathroom.
It embarrassed May and made her frightened-especially when she would peep from her bedroom window, see the strong broad back, the masculine V-shaped torso that went down to hard muscled flanks and bronzed thighs. And when Jeff turned around, bold and flagrant, his broad chest glistened with droplets of water; in shocking exposure, his reddish brown triangle of the forbidden forest of Adam would be pierced by the equally forbidden bough of manhood!
Jeff was a big man-big in every way-and May had alternating feelings of terror and wonder about him!
As May turned to the mirror, she stood admiring herself, loving her body. Her smooth black hair was combed neatly down around her white shoulders. She cupped her hands beneath her large, firm breasts. She lifted them up, then let them bounce down. They were firm and pleasing. She thrilled at the way they could bounce around. Hex nipples were pale rose, almost the same shade of her skin, which glowed brightly after she had toweled herself from the bath she just took.
Now May had a thought about Jeanie, her stepsister, almost her own age. The two of them were friendly to each other-but there were times when she thought it went deeper. May always felt warm and alive when Jeanie would be with her.
Jeanie-with golden blonde hair, a pair of breasts that pushed through the tight peasant blouses she always wore, and the beautifully rounded bottom that would move sensuously wih each step she took.
May ran her hands down over her own flat stomach; she felt a taut response that brought a tinge of red to her face. Boldly she stroked her tummy, tweaked her dimpled navel, then stole down lower to caress the still moist softness of her inner thighs. A sigh escaped.
What had Jeanie told her?
Oh yes-that it was so exciting to have a boy touch you all over, to feel his strong lips as he kissed you square on the mouth, while his hands did things to the rest of you.
May could not ever imagine having a boy do such things to her. She was afraid of boys, had little attraction toward them, even though there was a mild flurry when she saw one at the lake; she had once watched a group of them at a secluded swimming hole, deep in the woods. They were not aware of being observed and had stripped to the buff, while they swam merrily, their naked bodies gleaming and filled with young athletic powers.
Later, as they all sunned themselves nakedly, the boys started touching each other. In wierd fascination, May Kramer saw how boys could get excited and how powerful they became. As the laughing, somewhat embarrassed boys continued exploration, May had a feeling that they were no longer boys-but grown men with the powers of men!
It made May feel so ashamed to have watched it-and how one of the boys actually kissed the other one and then got down on hands and knees and loved him until a series of shudders left him weak and gasping.
If boys did it like that, why couldn't girls do it?
Why did girls have to fall in love with boys? The very thought of one of them actually making her into a woman was enough to terrify May Kramer. The boy, if he were big enough ... could hurt her so bad that she would scream! And that was no fun!
For a moment, May had an urge to tattle on the boys, tell their parents what they were doing. But she just could not do such a thing. The boys would probably be taken to the barnyard and be given a real strapping with the leather horse reins. And May could not sleep easily, knowing she had been responsible. Furthermore, suppose they learned that she had tattled on them.
There was no telling what all of them would do to her!
But it was Jeanie who made her aware of another type of love-the love one woman could have with the other. In fact, it first came out when the two of them were studying together. They were alone in Jeanie's room, right next door to May, and both were wearing summer shorts and halters because it was so hot. Neither wore bras. Their breasts were so firm and rounded, they needed no support.
"May," Jeanie sprawled out on the chintz covered bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Don't you sometimes get all ... anxious about boys?"
May sat on the bed, stared down at the sharp pointed breasts of Jeanie. "Well, there are times when I feel so excited, I can hardly control myself. But I'm afraid of boys, of the things they do to girls. They might hurt me." How could she tell about having seen Jeanie's own brother, standing naked under the water hose, in full exposure as though it were the most natural thing in the world? The very sight of Jeff made her tremble. "Most boys are probably cruel and hard when it comes to girls. That's what I've always thought."
Jeanie's shorts were hiked up high around her thighs, exposing the soft white flesh just beneath the elastic band of her white lace panties. "I really don't think so, May. Boys can be a lot of fun. When you get them all excited, it's a real joke to see how they're anxious...." She giggled as she went into some more description that made May feel so embarrassed.
"As for me," she admitted something she never before voiced, "I'm going to stay single. I don't want any boy mauling me, putting his hands all over me, and doing those things to me."
Jeanie's hand strayed to touch May's knee. It was like a red hot brick. May flinched but made no effort to push away the hand. She was conscious of a warm glow spreading over her hips and causing a tingle. "But what will you do if you want some love real bad?"
May was impatient. "Oh, Jeanie, must you make it sound so ... disgusting? I'm not like a boy-I don't want to do those things." She was extremely sensitive about talking of such delicate matters. Her memory was still vivid and she could see how two of those boys at the secluded swimming pool had explored each other. It made her downright sick!
"A boy it going to get cheated if you won't let him love you." She removed the hand from May's knee and fondled her breasts. "I love the way Newt Baxter puts his hands on me," she squirmed on the bed, her flaring hips pressed tightly against the mattress. "He kisses me all over. Mmmm, when he puts his hands under my blouse ... ooooh, his fingers are so nice...." Her blonde hair framed her heart shaped face and her eyes were glazed with heady response.
"Newt Baxter?" May remembered him: a gangling farm boy who could scarcely read or write but had a way with livestock and animals. He was nothing to look at but gossip was that when he was alone with a girl, he was like a dynamo. Even the boys talked about him with awe.
"Yes, Newt," replied Jeanie in a soft voice. "He's so strong, and when he holds me tight, I like the way my ... breasts feel when they're against his chest. He's got such a hard chest...."
"Do you mean you let him touch your breasts!" May was aghast at this discovery.
Jeanie flushed, sat up, stammered nervously, "Well, I mean ... oh, May, yo'u won't tell, will you?"
"Of course not," May was conscious of Jeanie's closeness and that the girl had put her arm around her. "But you shouldn't do such things, Jeanie. You could get in trouble." Inwardly, she felt a strange sense of envy. Or was it anger at her own unfounded fear of boys. If she could only overcome this weird revulsion of the male sex, she could probably find normal love to be what she needed and wanted.
Jeanie was saying, obvious relief in her voice, "But when a girl wants to be loved-and to love-what can she do?" There was a slight pause. "May?"
"What?"
"Didn't any boy ever touch you?"
May felt so nervous at the thought, she could scarcely refrain from trembling. "No ... I won't let him."
Jeanie started stroking May's back, then, came to a pause at a shoulder. "I bet you have lovely breasts. From what I can see, they must be pink and white. Don't the tips ever feel sensitive?"
This was a sore point with May. The tips of her breasts, as thick and sharp as nails, often were so delicate that when she brushed her hands across them, the rest of her body reacted with spasms and twitches. "Y-yes, they're sensitive."
"Wouldn't you like someone to kiss them? To take them in the mouth and to lick and nibble them?"
May's heart was pounding in her throat. It was stifling hot in the room. She wanted to get away. She was afraid of her own emotions. "If you let a boy do that, he wants other things."
"I didn't say that a boy should do that." Suddenly, Jeanie's voice became sultry and aggressive. "Lie down, May." It was a command.
May stiffened. She saw that Jeanie was looking at her in a strange way. "I don't...."
Jeanie pressed both hands down on May's shoulders and the girl was forced on the bed. Her breasts rolled wildly beneath the white halter and she knew that she was experiencing a trembling sensation that was sensuous and intimate. "Jeanie ... what are you doing?"
"I'm going to show you what it's like to be loved, May-to be loved until you beg for more. Now you'll know what a boy feels and you'll better understand sex."
May became terrified as her shoes and socks were taken off. "Stop that-stop undressing me!" She would have yelled for help, but something kept her back. Suppose her stepfather came in? Suppose her mother would come running upstairs and see her-with her halter being removed.
"Don't fight me," Jeanie slapped away the protesting hands. "I'll only have to fight you back."
May struggled and slapped wildly but Jeanie only rebuffed her blows and then yanked off the halter. "Wowie-they are beautiful!"
May felt her breasts leap nakedly into view, rolling around on her chest. Jeanie's hands explored them, tracing invisible patterns along the border, then tweaked the hardened tips and remarked softly, "I like to see them come alive-in fact, when I'm with a boy, I like him to be naked first-so I can see how excited he gets over me."
"You're talking terribly," gasped May, trying to get up in a sitting position, her sleek black hair falling across her shoulders, emphasizing the soft pink whiteness of her flesh. "Please," she pushed Jeanie's hands away, "don't ... don't touch me like that."
"Why not?"
"It gets me so excited," she shifted until she was out of reach.
"That's what I want to do." With that, Jeanie seized the hem of May's white shorts and started pulling them down over her hips.
"NO!" May was horrified. She tried to clutch at the fast disappearing shorts but only succeeded in raising herself to a half-sitting position, forcing her breasts to plunge forth and come to a sensuous slope. The tips were on fire. The edges were moist and rocky and alive. In that moment, as her shorts were pulled down over her ankles and tossed onto the floor, May Kramer knew she wanted someone-anyone-boy or girl-to love her breasts, to kiss them, to make them explode.
"Nice and soft," Jeanie said with a slur of her words. She knelt on the bed, her rounded bottom wiggling and her breasts so tight against her own halter, that she might have been naked!
May crouched in a corner of the bed. It was all happening so fast, so speedily and beyond comprehension, that she just did not know how to protect herself. "Please, Jeanie, someone will see us-we'll be punished." She knew her stepfather had a terrible temper and would take both of them to the barn, then use a pair of leather razor straps until he streaked their screaming bodies with a series of red and black welts. He was a strict disciplinarian. He had even flogged Jeff, right before them, using a buggy whip. Jeff had been spreadeagled to the beams and posts in the barn and no matter how he screamed and cried, the buggy whip slashed through his blue denim work shirt and jeans, crisscrossing him until he was completely dominated. Maybe that was why Jeff was so peculiar. Whatever will he had developed had been squelched.
"Don't be afraid," Jeanie whispered hoarsely. "Nobody'll find us together." Jeanie's hand stole beneath the white skin-tight panties and started fondling her until May squirmed, twitched, felt the heat rising up.
"You'll ... hurt me...." sobbed May, flooded with erotic urges yet shamed over what they were both doing. And May was doing something. She was untying the knot between Jeanie's shoulder blades, unloosening her halter. In a moment, it came off and the other girl's breasts bounced free.
May gasped to see the enormous globes. They were like huge balloons; the tips were red-more the shade of rust. While they were not as pointed or moist as her own, they were on fire. Jeanie's milky white breasts rolled around and then came to an uptilted position, as if to greet the tweaking fingers of May Kramer.
"See?" sighed Jeanie as she now guided May's hands to her shorts. "I'hat doesn't hurt, does it? Now ... let's make ourselves nice and comfortable."
CHAPTER TWO
May would always remember how she, herself, had peeled down Jeanie's shorts, then impulsively seized the elastic band of her white silk and lace trimmed panties and started sliding them down the girl's peaches and cream pelvis.
When the two of them were naked, they entwined arms around each other and May thrilled to feel Jeanie's hot eager mouth descending upon her own. Jeanie's lips were soft and demanding. Her tongue was a live electrical wire, searing everything in its path, scorching the roof of May's mouth, then swooping down to collide with her tongue. May began twitching as Jeanie's palm massaged her lower tummy, and her fingers tangled with the thick mesh shielding her maidenhood.
"Do the same to me," Jeanie's voice was thick with desire. "The way I'm doing it to you."
May obeyed, if only because she wanted Jeanie's hands to continue massaging, to stroke the sleek warmth of her inner thighs, to reach down so deep, that it felt as if she were transported to Paradise.
"Do you like it?"
May admitted it was the most wonderful feeling she ever knew. Her breasts were being mauled by Jeanie, but there was no instinctive revulsion as she would have felt if a boy touched her. Instead, May felt her pulse quickening and she knew that she loved every bit of it.
Mays mouth began exploring Jeanie-kissing her throat, then seizing one of her rounded globes, and nibbling at the rose tip. May took the milky white globe in her hands, cupped it, squeezed it, all the while listening to Jeanie's gasps and soft exclamations of ecstatic pleasure. She squeezed the breasts, each one in rotation, then took one of them, pressed tightly to emphasize the nipple and this was seized between her lips.
"Ohhhh," moaned Jeanie, threshing wildly on the bed, her hot and anxious body naked and filled with a savage yearning. Her hands did things to May and as her nipple was whipped by May's tongue, she knew she could not control herself much longer.
Jeanie next did it to May, kissing the breasts, seizing a hard and elongated nipple between her white teeth and biting down so hard that the girl stifled a scream.
May was so excited, so far on the paths of Lesbos that she could not go back, or even try to control herself. She straddled Jeannie, and then brought both of her breasts down on Jeanie's lips. "Kiss them-kiss them," she gasped, feeling her flushed face grow boiling hot with urgency.
Jeanie kissed one, then the other, then started kissing the smooth valley between the two of the breasts, and started even nibbling at the flesh of her naked midriff.
Just how it came about was never clearly remembered by May Kramer. But she knew that the two of them were now lying prone, with May underneath and Jeanie above her, simulating a heterosexual position.
Jeanie was whispering in the soft lobe of May's ear, kissing the tiny shell like extrusion at the same time. "I'm going to make you rise in the clouds. You'll go floating all the way up-you'll shoot like a rocket."
In a daze, May Kramer wondered what Jeanie meant; she heard the bedspring creak under their combined weight as Jeanie shifted her body. In a few moments, Jeanie's breasts brushed against May's lower tummy.
And suddenly, May was aware of a spark of fire being ignited within her very being. What started as a licking spark soon burst into a growing fire; a forest fire that spread over her thighs, causing her to become tight and anxious. She made soft, moaning sounds. She was burning up.
Jeanie was kissing her all over, but when she came to one most delicate region, it was enough to make May fairly leap up to the ceiling-to rise in the clouds. She stifled a low scream.
The fire erupted into a savage heat. There was a sharp knife-like pain tearing through her loins. The floodgates poured open. The dam cracked loose. The waters came bursting free. The waters were hot-boiling hot!
May loved it! She loved the boiling heat that tore through her vitals and kept smashing against the back of her head. She arched her body, raised her hips, felt Jeanie's palms slip beneath and cup the soft slopes of flesh. Again, the smashing reverberations tore through her very innards, washed away the pent up desires, made her taste the sweet ecstasy of pure joy.
She was floating on the clouds. She was being bathed in the most scented, smoothest, delicious sea of fragrant waters. She was tasting the nectar of the forbidden fruit that grew on the isles of Lesbos where Sappho ruled supreme.
Now she wanted more-as she felt herself sinking down upon a world of soft cushions made of raw flesh, she wanted more. She twisted at her waist, let her breasts dance back and forth. May's lips sought Jeanie's mouth; her arms worked to push the girl down on the bed.
May was now on top. Her eyes were glazed. She was still intoxicated by the dizzying experience. She started kissing Jeanie who lay flat on her back, exhausted by what she had done, but filled with expectancy and eagerness.
"Love me-all the way," sighed Jeanie.
May obeyed wordlessly. Still throbbing from the experience, she was beyond conversation. She kissed Jeanie, then nibbled at the soft hollow of her throat, finally going down-down-down-until her tongue was as sharp and provocative as a needle sharp lash-licking at the valley between Jeanie's twin peaks, flicking back and forth across the areola, causing Jeanie to squirm with pleasure-pain, knowing that it was driving her into a wild frenzy from which there would soon be an explosive climax.
"Now ... oh, please ... now-" sobbed Jeanie, her legs performing a pagan scissor-dance, opening and closing, opening and closing.
"Not yet," whispered May, wanting to prolong this moment to the maximum, knowing that she would remember this first time for the rest of her life. She wanted to preserve it.
"Please," Jeanie kept sobbing brokenly, raising her hips, begging May to clutch her by the soft buttocks. "Kiss me-kiss me...."
May's dark hair teased Jeanie, the strands flickering across her breasts, down over her expansive rib cage, then tickling her waist. When the dark, silky hair was caressing the soft inside of Jeanie's thighs, she knew that merciful fulfillment was in the offing.
May kissed Jeanie where she would feel it the most. She swept away so many years of confusion, fears and inhibitions. These emotions were replaced with the floodgates of desire. Now May was going to enter the strange world of twilight love.
May had a dim awareness that she was not only a willing partner-she was a willing lover. She was on both .sides of the picture and in so doing, she severed herself from what could be regarded as normal.
Was this abnormal?
As May swooped down and seized her prey, the shudders that tore through both of their bodies in unison, made everything feel so heavenly blissful that she knew-
It was normal!
She loved it!
She loved the singing feeling it gave her. She thrilled at the way Jeanie's hands seized her black hair, forced her head into the desired channels, compelled her on and on and on....
May loved this.
There was no fear. No pain. No rough calloused hands of boys. No brute strength of inexperienced men-no cruel thrusts of those who regarded girls as vehicles for their own selfish pleasures.
No. With Jeanie, there was sweet purity. As the shudders erupted into volcanic earthquakes, the two of them fell into one another's arms, their breasts as soft as pillows, the nipples as sharp as spear tips, but their mouths were soft and moist and they fell into a world of their own love.
Again and again, the reverberations erupted and ripped their bodies apart-and in answer to this ancient, almost pagan demand, their hips bounced up and down, their sharp pelvic bones crashed against each other and both May and Jeanie found that there was one type of love that far outshone all others. It was the love a woman could have for another woman.
Neither of them were girls any longer. They emerged another woman.
Now, May Kramer stood before the mirror, weighing her breasts, thrilling to the pangs of shock when she tweaked the areolars between her thumb and forefinger.
She had a fleeting desire to bring about her own high point, but even now, as she turned to regard her side view, with the soft slopes of her back caught up in the setting sunshine streaming through the windows, she felt a sense of shame. She looked at the way her rounded buttocks came to a crease where they joined her thighs, and wondered whether she was normal!
"I loved it," she said somberly to her reflection in the mirror. "Jeanie made me come alive." She stepped closer, pressed her lips against the mirror. "I love the body of a woman-soft and warm." She arched her shoulders, bent her head and pressed her breasts against those of her reflection. The cool feel of the looking glass made her shiver. She stared somberly at herself, at the slopes of her tummy, the way her dimpled navel was set in just the slightest plump of a hillock.
When she stared even lower, to the vase like shape of her torso, to the forbidden forest of Venus, May Kramer felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "Why do I feel this way about my own body?"
There were so many unanswered questions. But she knew, above all, that she was filled with a consuming desire to learn more. She wanted to have Jeanie again and again and again. Nightly, she would toss and turn, feeling the urgent need, yet Jeanie refused her, saying it was "wrong for two step-sisters to feel this way about each other."
Well, May Kramer was going to do something different tonight. She was going on a date-actually, it was a double date.
Hers was a broad shouldered fellow whose father ran a dairy farm. His name was Max Denning and while he was on the shy side, the way he looked at her when they met in the shopping center of town, made May wonder if he was so innocent as all that. He had a rock hard body, a sun bronzed face that was handsome in a farmerish way of speaking.
Once and for all, May was going to find out if she was afraid of men or if just one experience would make everything right again.
The other pair were familiar. They had been dating each other for months and everybody gossiped about them. The girl, Nancy, was known for being fast and loose. Her boy friend, Ned, was a gangling, loose jointed guy who spoke crudely and had only one thing on his mind. He wanted it any way he could get it. Everything pleased him!
From what May had heard, she wished there were something about Ned in her attitude. Maybe it was best to look for the most in life and let caution go to the winds. No holds were barred.
She even heard it whispered that Ned and Max Denning (her date) would disappear in the bushes for an hour or so. If that were so, then it was true that Ned liked it any way he could get it!
May had to hurry. She was going to be late for supper and her Ma was punctual. Her stepfather whom she grudgingly had to call Pa, her stepbrother Jeff and her stepsister, Jeanie, were always waiting for her at the table. It made her feel so self-conscious to walk down the flight of stairs and know they were listening to every footstep.
May selected a pair of canary tinted Suspants. They slid on easily and kissed her softly dimpled hips. Then she stepped into a silken skirt that had big red and blue polka dots. It swirled around her hips and caught attention to her flashing legs, smoothly curved and delicately soft. She always wanted silk stockings but they were denied to her.
"Don't want you looking like some cheap hussy," was the excuse given by her grumbling stepfather.
As for her Ma, she had no choice but to obey the source of income. She smiled wearily and tried td make May feel better. "You're a naturally pretty girl, May, and that's all that really counts."
She was still naked above the waist; she savored staring at her strawberry tipped breasts, remembering the electrifying thrills she enjoyed when Jeanie kissed them, nibbled and even bit them!
She watched the way they bounced up and down as she walked to the closet, withdrew a candy-striped scooped neck blouse with short sleeves. At first, she would have selected a blouse with no sleeves, but she was not wearing a bra this evening and knew that the natural movements of her chest would expose herself.
Quickly, she slipped into the blouse, buttoned it down in front, felt a tremor as the soft silk teased her nipples. Gratefully, the blouse was not too high so that it could not be ascertained if she was naked beneath or "decently" covered with a bra.
Her durable but unattractive walking shoes were waiting for her. She frowned as she slipped on a pair of baby blue bobby sox. She yearned for silk stockings and high heeled shoes-with narrow toes and an excruciatingly slender vamp so she would look like a real lady! Well, she decided that she was going to save up her money and as soon as possible, try to get away from here. Maybe she would leave for California. She heard that many jobs were open to young girls. It was just a slender ambition, but it was something to cling to.
Downstairs, they were waiting for her. Pa and Ma sat at opposite ends of the table. May mumbled her usual excuses about being sorry for the delay; she glanced sideways at Jeanie who was looking at her plate.
Jeff, who sat facing her at the other end of the table, toyed with his fork. He was never much to talk-in fact, mealtime was always a lonesome experience. The five of them just tolerated each other.
"Will you be out late tonight?" asked Ma as she started ladling out the steaming bowls of minestrone soup and all of them began the meal.
"I'll try to be home on time," said May in a low voice.
Jeff snickered. "Going out for a wild time with Max Denning, eh? Bet he'll teach you a few tricks."
"That's not true!" exclaimed May, losing her appetite which was small enough to begin with. "Isn't a girl entitled to go out once in a while?"
Now it was her stepfather's turn to voice criticism. "You never were much for party times. Why the sudden change?" He finished the soup and now reached for the thick potatoes and huge chunks of beef. He had an appetite for everything-for hard work, for sleep, for punishment!
"I ... I just felt like going out," she cast anxious glances towards Jeanie who was toying with her side dish of steaming green peas and squash. "I mean, I'll be starting work soon-this is the last summer vacation I'll have now that I'm out of school. So I thought I'd have a little fun-and then go to work in town in the department store."
They ate in comparative silence. Only Jeff was noisy with his knife and fork, gulping down every morsel of thick, juicy beef as if this would be the last food he would be given for a long time. After a particularly noisy swallow, he squinted his dark eyes at his stepsister. "Max Denning's a wild one." He was going to cause trouble.
"How would you know?' she snapped. "Maybe you're just jealous that Max has life in him-while you're no different than a plow horse."
He flushed darkly, knowing that his celibate life was being talked about. "I do an honest day's work," he echoed his father's repeated proclamations. He was then at a loss for words.-
"You will be careful, won't you?" It was Ma who now voiced concern, looking worried.
May was impatient to be out of the house. Ned was coming by for her in the car. The others would be with him since they all ate earlier. But at this household, there could be no deviations from routine. Everything was done at a set schedule and nothing could change it.
"I'll be careful, Ma." May was in a hurry to finish the stew. She munched at her vegetables, forcing them down.
"You'll tell me all about the date, won't you?" Jeanie had hardly even touched her food.
"Why is everybody acting as if this is the end of the world?" protested May. "Honestly, you'd think I never went on a date before." She began to wonder if this was the right thing after all. She knew that Max Denning would want to feel her, to do all kinds of things to her. What if she refused him? What would happen? It was too late to cancel the date. She would not change it, even it she had the opportunity.
Suddenly, the loud honking of Ned's car was heard.
May leaped up. She froze in her tracks. A stern look from her father's work worn, sun wrinkled face reminded her of another iron clad rule. "Oh ... may I please be excused?"
The loud honking was more insistent. Muffled shouts could be heard from the merrymakers. Already, the sun was setting and an early autumn coolness stirred the emotions.
May's stepfather relished the slight delay in granting her permission. He took sadistic delight in tormenting this reminder of the man who preceded him. "Very well," he said slowly. "You may leave."
CHAPTER THREE
It was well after midnight!
And the four of them were wild and drunk!
It was Ned who suggested drinking out of a bottle of corn whiskey that was "home made." It was a little too fresh but it made them feel wild and roaring. May Kramer had wanted to sip the whiskey, but they held her down and forced her to guzzle more than she wanted. The first sip was good. The second made her tingle. The third made her feel fire!
"Damn this cold weather." Ned was behind the wheel. They were in the mountainous section of the state where tall fir trees, thick cedars and huge oaks kept the area in a cool, almost cold, climate.
Ned pulled Nancy closer, sliding his hands inside her sweater to squeeze her breasts. "Sure is cold outside-otherwise, we could spread out a blanket and make the world go 'round." He squeezed her roughly. "Can't hold it much longer." His youngish face had a hard expression. He wore a blue denim work shirt and matching trousers that were tight around his thighs.
"Ned," squealed the girl who was known for being playful and difficult as part of the game. "You'll tear my sweater ... and I'm wearing a pair of black lace bra and panties-don't tear the bra, too." She giggled drunkenly.
"Scared of what May and Max will say?" laughed Ned, "Don't worry-maybe they'll join the party."
"Sure thing," exclaimed Max who had his arm around May, in the back seat, with one arm planted firmly around her breasts. "I think May is all fired up and ready to go."
May's head was spinning wildly; she knew she had had too much to drink and while she delighted in the way Max was fondling her blouse covered breasts, and even in the way he guided one of her hands so she could discover how big a man he was ... she felt that this would lead to an inevitable tragedy of some sorts.
"I ... I'm one of the party," she laughed thickly.
"Then let's make it a real ball!' laughed Nancy, and then added something else which made Ned shriek with laughter and exclaim, "Now that's my type of girl! Say, let's use the car ... we're out here in the middle of nowhere and there's lots and lots of room here! What say?"
May giggled loudly; the coarse shrillness was proof that she had had too much.
Careful, she told herself in carefree abandonment, you are loaded so watch your step--you'll fall and crash down-and make a loud crash, too!
May Kramer would ordinarily have repulsed any boy before the eyes of the crazed trio and order them to make of a woman's body and lips, the sweet luxury of knowing there would be no pain, no roughness-only sheer heavenly pleasure that is found solely with a woman.
But now, May was too far gone. The whiskey had burned her throat, then fanned out to a spreading warmth and soon had made her feel giddy and easy. She had a strange impulse to rip off her sweater blouse, to expose the lush contours of her breasts, to tweak her own nipples before the eyes of the craze trio and order them to make her feel just great! The whiskey was taking its full toll.
It was hot inside the car. May leaned forward from her back seat, partially aroused, reached to flip on the blower switch on the dash. Instantly, the motor whir was heard and a flood of warm air filled the car. She had wanted cold air but was .confused about everything. Besides, the others wanted warm air.
"Hey!" she yelled as she sat down again. "Get your hand out from under my skirt!" A pang of delight swept through her loins as she sat down on Max's bold hand with the equally bold fingers.
"It feels so good, doesn't it?" Max laughed, looking at Ned and Nancy in front, seeking their attention.
May became annoyed. She lifted her hand, ready to slap Max but he caught her by the wrist, pushed her back on the seat and shifted until she was half-lying half-sitting. The two of them put up a struggle while Max dug beneath her skirt, tweaked her thighs, yanked the elastic band of her panties and explored the soft expanse of her undulating tummy.
"Pig!" she screamed, balling a fist and grazing him off the side of his jaw. "Stop mauling me!" This was going too far. He was touching her where no man ever touched her before!
Max was not dismayed by the resistance. "I like a girl with fight," he was saying, while he paused only long enough to tilt the bottle and gulp down a series of lusty swallows. "Wowie!" he gasped, his eyes bleary and bloodshot, his mouth thick, his words garbled, "that's some stuff!" He was drunk.
They were all drunk and had lost control of themselves.
Nancy was squirming in the front seat, resisting Ned who was pushing her dress up over her knees, stroking her leg and exclaiming, "This is all woman! C'mon, Nan, let's get nice and comfy-what kind of undies you got on?"
It was Max who urged them on and on. "Don't be such a wet blanket, Nancy-let's give May a real show! That's an idea-go ahead, Ned, you and Nancy go to town with each other and we'll watch."
Ned was now in any mood to do anything to get his kicks.
Even May could not resist the impact of the whiskey and the excitement of a foursome. "Go ahead-you go first and...."...." and we go second," finished Max, putting an arm around May's shoulders and then using his free hand to lift her skirt up ... all the way up until the lace trim of her canary colored Suspants. He teased her lower thighs and the fires were being stoked. May had a strange urge to see Max-all the way! She would have tormented him, driven him crazed with desire, made him beg for her ... but she still felt reserved about it all and fought a battle with the equalizing effects of the whiskey.
"Baby, baby," whispered Ned as he captured Nancy in his arms and started to kiss her all over her face. "You're nice and soft...." He was flushed with excitement. His face was feverish with eager anticipation.
Suddenly, Nancy's dress was hiked up high above her waist, exposing black lace panties. "Ooooh," she half-squealed, half-laughed, "you'll tear them!"
"Suppose you take them off." Ned was on fire by the sight of Nancy's svelte hips sealed within the panties. He gripped them tight and made a few tugs until they all saw the soft rise of her pelvic bones, then the shadowy indentation of Nancy's creamy navel, and soon, her triangular tufts.
"My dress, my dress," Nancy was saying drunkenly, while wiggling around on the front seat, her bare legs flashing in the dim light.
"Take it off!" Max commanded from the back seat, still holding May Kramer, but the two of them were leaning forward, excited by the prospect of seeing action. A forbidden action!
It was May who seized the initiative. She took Nancy's dress, pulled it up high, then with a savage gesture, yanked it over the girl's head and threw it down on the floor beneath her own feet.
Clad only in black lace panties and a matching bra, Nancy's rounded breasts were creamy white. The breasts were stuffed into the too-small bra and as the girl laughingly struggled against Ned's advances, the mounds danced around; a deep shadow marked her cleavage and there was promise of a pair of magnificent globes once the bra was removed.
"You, too," begged Nancy, feeling on display and wanting someone else to share the spotlight.
Max rose to the occasion. "Don't be shy," he whispered throatily. His thick lips pressed down upon May's mouth, forcing her back on the seat again, with her legs on the floor in a half-sitting position.
May did not know whether to feel repulsed or excited. The constant rubbing and massaging of Max's hands warmed her, stimulating the long repressed desire and made her want fulfillment. But there was the inborn fear of being hurt, of being used like an instrument solely for male pleasure.
May struggled, tried to kick at Max but he only laughed it off. He kept kissing her, while he yanked up her skirt, pulled it high up around her waist and with a brutal movement, yanked apart the few buttons.
A gush of air kissed May's panty covered buttocks. Her thighs were bathed in a moist vapor. Her skirt was pulled free. She was bare, from the waist down. Only her canary colored Suspants, as tight as a second skin, almost transparent, kept her from being naked! Still, she had her blouse-with a start, she remembered she had no bra and her breasts were warmly naked. She could feel them bouncing around beneath her blouse.
"Max!" she struggled, clawed and hit him, while he only laughed, glancing at the way Nancy and Ned, in front, were almost naked. "Please ... you're hurting me!"
"That's the best part of it," he laughed drunkenly. "Hey-what're those things bouncing around underneath your blouse? Look like big basketballs-let's see!"
He was trying to take off her blouse. His fingers twisted with the buttons and he was pressing tight against her.
May was terrified. She knew she was drunk, but this was just going too far! She was going to be attacked! No ... no ... she would never let any man violate her! She had a flash of memory at the way she and Jeanie shared one another's bodies. It had been sweet and gentle and so good that she never wanted anything better. It was the direct opposite of what she was now experiencing at the hands of this young bull!
And he was a bull-even though he had an innocent, almost boyish face with curly black hair falling over his forehead, he was a big one! He already tore open his shirt. His jeans were belt-less and very tight ... too tight!
"Go ahead, May," laughed Nancy in front, her bra already being torn apart and one pink tipped breast shimmering free, being kissed by Ned with animal-like passion. "Let him have his way...."
The sight of the other girl's breast made May feel a tremor. She wet her lips, imagining that she was kissing the creamy mounds, letting her tongue savor the sweet goodness of the narrow valley between the fleshly warmth. But it was Ned who enjoyed this sheer pleasure ... and May hated Ned.
She hated Max, too, and wanted to torture him because he was fighting with her, demanding her body! Suddenly, she felt his hot lips on her breasts. With a shock, she looked down to discover that Max had yanked the blouse apart and her twin peaks were now being fondled by him.
"Wowie!" Max kept exclaiming, while letting his tongue roll over his drunken lips. "Hey, Neddie, lookit the way they come to a point-just like you told me!" He tweaked a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
A shock tore through May. "Max-you're hurting me!" she half-screamed.
They talked about her? It was only a glimmer of thought but May was now aware that others in town must have talked about the way she looked.
"Look, Neddie," Max was saying, "you 'member you told me that they'd bounce up and down-hey-they have those nice slopes ... all curvy and sweet."
She knew, now, that they must snicker and giggle about her when they hung around the town's filling station or sweets shop. How could she have been so naive as to think they would not wonder about her feminine charms? And if they talked before ... what would they say after it was over? Suppose her stepfather heard? And what about her Ma?
But now, with the bottle of whiskey being over her mouth, with the sweet fire burning her throat, with Max kissing her breasts, squeezing one between both hands, narrowing the soft marshmallow and elongating the cone tip, May could not think of what might be. She was forced to revel in the glorious present.
In a reflexive motion, she clamped both thighs together-but Max's hands were caught between them.
"Feel good?" he laughed.
Ohhhhhhh ... it was like sweet nectar....
The hot interplay in the back seat was taking its effect on those in the front. Already, Ned had succeeded in pulling off Nancy's bra, her breasts hanging like Chinese lanterns, dancing back and forth, the red tips as bright as bulbs.
Ned was kissing Nancy hot on the mouth, loving her cheeks, nibbling at her ear lobes, then descending down to the soft hollow of her throat and soon suctioning each fire tipped breast.
"Take off your shirt," ordered Nancy and in a crazed drunken frenzy, pulled apart the buttons and tore off Ned's shirt.
He had a broad chest, thick biceps that bulged with youthful power. The broad planes of his back rippled in masculine strength. "There's more to take off," he yelled lustily. Raising himself up, until he nearly touched the roof of the car, he thrust forth his hips and laughed happily as Nancy started yanking open the buttons of his work worn jeans. Then they were pulled down over his hips.
From behind, May and Max paused in their lovemaking. They both had to gasp. May was rudely shocked when she saw Ned's power. Set between two athletic bronzed thighs, with throbbing musculature, in a jet black nest, was the awe-inspiring symbol of power-in its alert anticipation, gleaming in the dim light of the dashboard.
As Nancy pulled down his jeans until they were around! Ned's ankles, the wavering power was enough to frighten-no, to terrify May. She wanted to get away-to escape this brutal power!
Nancy was laughing crazily, the odor of liquor so pronounced that it was obvious she was far gone. She started doing things to Ned and he hollered out nervously.
"Hey-don't-keep your hands off, willya!" he wiggled his smooth muscled buttocks and ducked out of reach. "That's not the way we want it...."
Max flushed a deep red and lowered his eyes. He turned full attentions to May and laughingly started pulling her blouse apart and forcing it down her protesting arms. "Say ... you're not wearing panties!"
This was heard by the laughing Nancy and the naked Ned in the front seat. They both turned and it was Nancy who yelled, "Take off her skirt-go ahead-let's see...."
She was terrified. May punched and kicked wildly. Suddenly, she was lifted up bodily and flung down in the cramped space on the floor. It was like being bound up in some evil dungeon. There was absolutely no room to turn. Now she was the victim of Max and all of his devices.
"Don't! Don't!" she screamed as he tugged at her skirt ... prying apart the few buttons and suddenly, yanking it all the way down! Then he turned her over on her face and started to examine her from the soft slopes of her shoulders down to her thighs.
"Heck ... she does have panties on-so nice and yellow, too." Max was giggling. In front, it was now Ned's turn to get Nancy in a "skin" condition.
But Max was anxious to get his kicks in a more comfortable surroundings. "Ned," he called, "think you can drive about a mile to that cave? Remember, the one?"
"Yeah, yeah," Ned paused in hot lovemaking and the broad planes of his hard chest glistened with nervous moisture. "We both...." Then he stopped. Drunk as he was, he remembered it was best not to talk about what the two of them did. "Okay ... suppose we go."
Nancy was laughing in half hysteria and forced Ned to take his hands from the wheel and to touch her lush, quaking breasts. She moved his hands downward. "Please-please...." she was begging.
"Can't hold it, eh?" he laughed wildly, his naked feet on the pedals.
"Can you?" she demanded. In a flash, her hands massaged his athletic chest, then went down to the strong ripples of his flat stomach and in a moment, her palms were stroking the upper inner thighs.
"Hey," he screamed. "Don't do it-or you're gonna be a mighty disappointed girl!"
Even in the dim light of the dashboard, it was obvious that he was as tense and taut as an electric wire. Just one touch too much and a short circuit would come shooting out!
"Suppose someone sees us ... riding nekkid in the woods?" Max had just the slightest shred of fear.
We'll ask 'em to join the party!" shrieked Nancy as she snuggled close to the bare thigh of Ned and yelled loud as he gunned up the motor.
They did not have far to go. Fortunately, the road was pitch black at this post-midnight hour. Only the huge headlights pierced the inky darkness; otherwise, they were completely alone and isolated as though they could be on another planet!
May was terrified. She tried to absolve her fears and inhibitions by hoping that it would not be as bad as she anticipated. But the way Max was yanking her elastic band and snapping it against her flesh, the way he grew bolder, whispered all sorts of things in her ear, made her turn frigid with fright.
Max was struggling out of his shirt as the car kept careening ahead. When he lifted his hips, it was to slide his jeans down. Soon, he pushed his naked thigh against her own. The thigh was strong and tickled with a strange hairy delight.
"Don't be so scared," he whispered throatily. He took her hand in his and guided it over his broad chest. He had sinewy muscles, lithe and powerful. His chest was rock hard. Even his stomach had a hard-as-a-plank feel. And when she went between his thighs, she received a jolt.
"Don't worry ... I don't act as fast as Ned ... don't worry...." He was slurring his words, but he knew what he wanted.
Maybe, thought May wildly, I could cool him off. Suppose I would....
With a sudden slap, he pushed her away. "Hey-none of that. I know your tricks. Lots of girls try that on a fellow-an easy way to avoid it. Well, just for that ... wait till I get you in that cave. Scared, ain't'cha? Just wait ... I'll make a real woman out of you ... front and back and sideways."
In front, abruptly, Ned steered to the shoulder, jarred the car to a stop. There was a crunch. Then silence-except for the strange hoot of an owl, a screech of a night bird, a chilly wind rustling in the tree tops.
It was a pagan sight to see Ned bounding out of the car, his athletic body nude in the pale moonlight, every fibre of his manhood alive with taut eagerness. The way his buttocks flashed in the silvery light was a sensuous picture ... almost as though a Grecian statue had come to life in the sacred groves of Elysia.
The others ran out and Ned said to Max, "Grab that clamp there. That's it. Watch those fingers, now. Down she goes!"
Nancy was laughing shrilly. It was isolated here, surrounded by trees, a ghostly mountain in the distance, and the yawning darkness of a small cave. In the night, Nancy was a naked goddess. Her breasts were bathed in silvery moonlight and the curves of her back were etched in soft perfection.
For just a moment, as she paused, with both of her lyre shaped hips drawn together, the shaded triangle holding the forbidden secret and moist trail of sheer ecstasy, Nancy could have been a nymph come to life, out of the woods, offering herself with joy and eagerness.
May was stricken with terror. She watched as they took out blankets, spread them just before thp entrance to the cave. Where could she go? Even, if she wanted to escape, she could not do so! She knew how to drive-but the keys were hidden somewhere. Ned had removed them from the ignition switch and laughingly remarked, "Now you all better do what I say-or just walk back!"
Max was hard and anxious as he took her in his strong arms. Standing nakedly together in this hot embrace, she felt the way he was working down her Suspants. In a moment, they slithered down her legs and she felt them tickle her ankles. She kicked them away, in a silky puddle. The cool night breeze kissed her pear shaped buttocks.
"Soft ... nice and soft...." Max was whispering. "Let's do it...."
"Wait," she was almost weeping, "lets ... watch!" anything ... any excuse if just to stall. But for what? There was no escape!
Together, arm in arm, they watched as Ned and Nancy writhed on the blanket. There was a muffled expulsion of air from Nancy's lungs a sign that she was receiving the ultimate.
Dazed, Mona watched the scene unfold before her, just as though it were a stag movie. She could not even believe it was true, that it was happening to her. Here she was, alone in he midst of the woods, with an eager young bull stud beside her, fondling her, tweaking her nipples, then stroking her satin smooth hips stealing between her thighs, even daring to probe so deep that she jumped from the sudden spasms that erupted. She was on fire! She knew that she was on fire.
She wanted someone-anyone-to quench that fire or she would scream from the mounting tensions.
"Real good." Max was muttering softly as he watched the way Ned and Nancy kept writhing on the blanket. Their motions became more frantic, their mutterings louder and more frenzied.
May felt the impact as she sensed a wild, hot stab of desire go through her and watched the pulsing bodies draw and clutch.
It was Nancy who first exclaimed the swelling exultation, the outburst of pure gratification. "Ned!" she screamed. "Oh, Ned! NED!"
In a flash, Ned's strong buttocks became taut. There was a powerful ripple of the muscles on his naked torso and a sudden thrust.
May Kramer felt it-she felt the demoniac churning in her stomach; the liquid heat filled her, turning her to mush. At the same time, she moved closer to Max, wanted to enjoy the thrill of his hands on her body, begged him to kiss her all over.
Max kissed her mouth, then went to her breasts, scooped them up in both hands and let his tongue lash them back and forth!
May was trembling; her knees felt wobbly and weak, turning to jelly-just as her jelly like breasts were being mauled and bruised.
The fire was stoked. The flash of intense pain tore through her loins and she began to move her lyre shaped hips in an ancient rhythm. She threw back her head, her glossy jet black hair teasing her naked shoulders, and her swollen lips parted to greet the invading tongue of her captor.
"Love me," she whispered. "Love me...." She shivered and nearly collapsed as a series of twitches and spasms rocked her body.
Max was on his knees, kissing the soft underside of her heavy breasts, then nibbling at the folds of her dimpled tummy. When he tangled in the forest of Eden, May reared back and gurgled with a shock of intense pleasure.
Oh, if only it could be this way ... if it could bo just this one way....
"Hey, none of that!"
It broke their reverie. They reeled on the balls of their feet and dizzily clung to each other to see Nancy and Ned weakly leaning against each other, watching the scene.
"No fair," sighed Nancy. "We want ta see the whole thing ... the whole way...."
Ned proffered a bottle to Max and giggled as he said, "Drink this firewater-all the way, buddy. And then you'll go off like a house on fire!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Titlting the bottle, Max half-drained it, spat as he removed the neck from his slobbering lips. He shoved it at May. "Here, you take some."
May had an instinctive hesitance. "N-no," she backed away, her naked feet being scratched by the pebbles and small sticks on the ground.
"Don't say 'no' when I want you to drink!" With that Max gripped her arm, twisted it cruelly behind the small of her back, forced her to bend backwards.
When May opened her mouth to scream, all that resulted was that the bottle was shoved in and the fiery liquid forced down her throat She nearly fell over backwards and in this helpless position, with one arm flailing the air, she was vulnerable to the giggling explorations of both Ned and Nancy.
"Nice, real nice," laughed Ned as his fingertips brushed against her undulating belly. "Go ahead, Nancy, get yourself a handful."
The other girl, one who would get her thrills in any shape or form whatsoever, hurried to discover the vast passageway of sheer joy. "Mmmm, this is real good." With that, she flattened her own body against that of the struggling May.
It acted like a Mick of dynamite!
The feel of Nancy's soft, knobby tipped breasts against her own, the shock of Nancy's feminine hands as it stroked her torso, fondled her underside, streaked the satiny flesh of her taut buttocks, then came up to brush against her breasts-all made her throb with a horrifying response.
It was horrifying because May Kramer knew, in a flash of half-drunken wisdom-that the body of another girl could excite her more than anything else. More than being naked in the silvery moonlight with two naked studs-both of them were turgid examples of powerful young manhood-yet, neither of them could stimulate her as much as Nancy's moist mouth, kissing her lips, kissing her breasts, seizing one nipple and playfully pulling it so hard that May nearly screamed from pain. But it was heavenly pain!
Max must have sensed her reaction. He let her go. She nearly stumbled. "Get away from my gal," he yelled wildly at Nancy.
Ned felt his manhood rising to the fore. "Hey, go easy on talking to my gal." They both faced each other, like two gladiators in a Roman arena-their naked strength was sensuous and brutal.
"Okay, okay," Max looked downward, feeling ashamed of something he could not understand. "But I want May-all the way." He was slurring his words, reeling half-drunkenly, trying to force the blurred visions that kept wavering before him.
May was again stricken with a spasm of terror. It was going to happen-to her! She backed away but Max was quick, even though he was already feeling drunk. May, too, found it difficult to distinguish reality from a dream.
She felt the way the fiery moonshine had ignited her inside, divorced from her truth and caused her to waver from side to side as she. struggled to keep her balance. The stones and pebbles were slicing at her naked feet but she felt no pain.
"In the cave?" asked Nancy, both of her arms across her chest, her twin globes heaving up and down.
Max did not want to go inside. "Too dark-and you all wanta watch, don't you?"
"You bet-go to it! We haven't got all night," ordered Ned-entwining his arm around Nancy. The two of them crouched down in a squat and lewdly exposed themselves as they waited.
It was the inevitable reality! Now May was faced with the awesome truth. She had walked right into it and had no one to blame but herself.
She lay back limply as Max stroked the silken sheen of her legs, paused on the smooth texture of her tummy, then tweaked her inner thighs. May trembled. She had to admit that she was suffering from wild, unbearable anticipation.
"Max...." she whispered.
"In a minute, in a minute." There was a strained tone to his voice.
A moment later, as Nan and Ned kept urging him onward, Max was in action. His hands did fantastic things to May, turning her to molten fire within. She knew in a spasm of recognition that the liquor was doing this to her. She turned into a hedonistic Venus. She wanted the most ... she screamed her deliverance with uninhibited joy. Now it was her turn and she did investigations of her own, making Max writhe and gasp.
Max's lips fell upon her breasts, seizing her nipples like devilish spears, transfixing her with sheer pleasure and pain. She grew rigid as she felt her nipples crinkle. The pain was more intense, more maddening.
Suddenly, she froze. There was a tremor to her voice. Something was wrong. "Max ... what's...?"
"Nothin'," he gasped as he heaved and twisted. "A minute-I'll be okay-a minute...."
She became panicky. No. This was not going to work out. This hysteria of desire and urge of lust would be wasted. It would fizzle out like a weak seltzer.
"Max!" She wanted it. She forgot her fears. She forgot the terror she experienced at anticipation of being invaded. It was in this moment that May Kramer might have made the successful leap over the divided path separating lesbian and heterosexual desires. But she needed help-she needed Max!
She wanted Max.
Her breasts were swollen with hot desire. Her nipples pin pricks of needle sharp urgings. She wanted Max. She kept twisting and twisting on the ground, oblivious to the sharp cuts of the pebbles and rocks. Her thighs parted and, she knew that if Max did not hurry, she would precede him!
"Hey, what's wrong?" Now it was Ned who came forward, his pendulous nudity strangely fascinating to May as she kept moaning softly.
"I told you I'll be okay...."
There were a few precious moments of silence and only Max's movements and increasing breath-panting-piercing the stillness. But nothing else.
In a gesture of male defensiveness, Max again took May Kramer and this time, he tongue loved wildly, kissing her everywhere. This added fat to the fire. May felt the dizzying fever rage within her once more.
She was so wild that she would go stark, raving mad if someone did not give her relief. She just had to have it!
"P-please," she sobbed brokenly, her hands doing things to Max. It was then that she knew what the trouble must be.
In a daze, Max was heard to say, "I'm-I'm sorry-I just can't-too much to drink-it always happens to me this way...."
"Try," implored May. "Try!" It was a voice not even her own. She, May Kramer, a lesbian, begging a man to give her relief from her animal desires. What was happening? It was all so crazy that she had just a wild feeling it would soon end-and she would wake up, safe in her own bed.
The nightmare would be over!
No-the nightmare was just beginning! It was not a nightmare-but for real!
"I ... I can't-you'll have to wait." Bitter defeat and humiliation flooded through Max. He was so ashamed of his naked failure, he could not even look up at Nancy and Ned, both of whom stood over them, demanding their just due.
"We want to see it-all the way!" demanded Ned.
Then he snickered, "You were okay a few nights ago in that cave. You couldn't stop...."
Max hung his head in shame. "Well ... no sense in spoilin' your fun. Whyn't you take her?"
May could not believe her ears! Was Max going to trade her-like a common slut? Even now, in her turbulent state of mind, in her charged up condition, she still wanted some form of respect. "P-please...." she started to say.
Ned hurried to the fore. "If Max can't do it, maybe I ought to finish the job." He was nasty and surly about it. "This makes me mad. You know I get a wild kick out of watching! It's the reason I wanted this foursome."
May Kramer began to sob softly. Her hands stroked her swollen nipples and she started twisting her hips and preparing for a shameless solitary action. She needed relief. She was burning up and she wanted someone to quench the fire.
Anyone!
Meanwhile, Nancy started jumping around, whacking her sides with her hands, her breasts flopping around. "Will you two studs make up your minds? It's freezing cold out here."
May Kramer felt no cold. She felt the enormous heat searing her loins. Her hands were like sparks on her inner thighs. Her fingers simulated those of a man's....
Ned was cursing loudly. He wanted nothing more than to watch everything and yelled at Max for being a used up bull! But the urge was still burning. His young blood was hot and filled with fire and he was ready to prove himself again.
When Ned knelt beside May, she looked up, saw his powerful vigor, the thick nest with its proud possession. Again, there was a mingling of desire and fear. She writhed as he came down on her and struggled in fear.
Now, new lips descended, attacked the yearning tips of her rounded globes; new hands stroked her legs, her tummy, sending the flame into soaring heights.
"Where'd that eunuch leave off?" he muttered angrily, while he started to kiss her all over.
May trembled. Ned was a superior lover. Maybe it was because he answered her crying need out of desperation that made him such a powerful superman.
She tensed her body and with writhing anticipation, waited for the imminent love act.
The two of them surrendered to the wild, deranged music of their act of erotica; they savored and drunk deep of the nectar of lust.
Ned toyed with May, deliberately drawing out the perverse longing until she had reached a throbbing pitch.
May wanted him!
Ned now had her where he wanted her. He was supreme master of her souL He was her ruler and she was the slave in the harem. She would wait. She would beg and plead and cry but she would wait-and then she would want it more ... want it in the worst way.
"Like it?" he gasped as his body felt the feverish anticipation. He was soaked with perspiration. In the silvery moonlight, every muscle was etched and sharply defined.
His biceps bulged with youthful power. His buttocks were sloped in powerful strength as he poised for the inevitable climax.
"I love it!" she choked out. "Please-please-don't make me wait. I'm burning up...."
Through her drunken torpor, the begging pleas became shrill screams, echoing in the night. It sent a flash of fire, a spasm of lust through the others who watched in bated breath.
Max, meanwhile, overcame his temporary weakness. He moved toward Nancy but she twisted out of his grasp. "Unh, unh," she freed her breasts from his hands. "Nothing doing ... hands off!"
Nancy felt a charge of power as she watched the way her own lover now seized his new conquest-May Kramer-she watched the way May's legs twined about Ned's, and how the broad back of this young stud became taut with magnificent strength. His buttocks were like thick globes as they stiffened. Now it was going to happen!
May felt the most heavenly pleasure she thought could be possible. But it was just for an instant. Suddenly, there was a piercing pain-it sliced through her body, raw and cutting, gutting away at every nerve.
May screamed! The screams rent the close air.
It was horrible-as if a knight in shining armor had raised his enormous lance and was piercing her-right through the middle-jabbing it through her body in sadistic glee, tormenting her with the thick, burrowing weapon that afforded him selfish pleasure.
May screamed again and again. Ned became cruel. He dug his strong work-hard fingers into her flesh more fervidly, making her scream even louder.
And still May kept on screaming. Each time a thrust was made, she screamed and envisioned herself being impaled upon the same knight's lance, being tormented to the glee of a perverted audience!
"No ... no...." she kept moaning after the screams subsided.
Slowly, Ned extricated himself and on hands and knees, shaking his head like a shaggy dog, made his way exhaustedly to the car and slumped down, face up, feeling sheer fatigue. He breathed heavily. He was on the brink of collapse.
But for Ned, it had been heaven. For May-it had been hell!
She felt the erupting spasms sear her senses; what should have been a merciful relief from the mounting tensions was actually just pouring salt on raw welts. It was sheer agony. She hated what Ned had done to her!
Max now came forth, his greedy face an ugly blur in the dim light of the moon that darted behind a cloud, as if refusing to witness such a bizarre scene.
"Hey ... that was good." He was powerful again. "I think it's just what I needed."
May knew she would have to fight him off. "Keep away from me!" she ordered harshly, feeling a sobbing well up in her throat.
His face changed. "B-but ... I want it, too. C'mon, I'm ready now."
She groped around on the ground, seized a small branch and sat up. With the branch in her hand, she grated harshly, "Touch me and I'll use this-I'll jam it right where it'll kill you."
Max felt an instinctive fear. He backed away, but he was still filled with drunken urgency. "You did this-you, Ned-you spoiled it for me."
Ned, lying prone, lifted his head. "W-hat?" He was so weak from the combined drinking and sex sessions that he could scarcely reconcile himself with the present.
Nancy vanished for just an instant. When she returned she had a small hunting knife in one hand. It glittered in the moonlight. She had taken the knife from the glove compartment and now used it to defend herself. "Keep back, Max-or I'll slice you from ear to ear. I told you that I belong to Ned-no one shares me."
It was a bitter irony. Nancy and Ned were twosomes yet Ned could take May-but no one could take Nancy.
Lowering his head and broad shoulders, Max started encircling the moving Nancy. It was a hysterical sight, if only it would not have been serious. The two of them in naked splendor, their bodies filled with lusty need, battling each other in the wilderness.
"Gimme that knife," he ordered.
Nancy backed away. "Try and get it." A feeling of fear stabbed at her. "Ned-Ned-help me!"
But Ned was still dazed. The night long drinking and fun orgy was taking its effect and he was half-drunk in a stupor. His head ached and he was so weak, he could hardly even prop himself up on his elbows. His strong thighs joined together. In the silvery dim light, droplets of moisture dotted his black thatch. He was satiated and would not perform for the rest of the night.
May, meanwhile, kept sliding across the rocky ground, feeling shame-ridden for what had happened; like Eve in the Garden of Eden, awareness made her all the more conscious of her forbidden desires.
Max was quick like a streak of lightning. In one moment, he appeared to bend down; in another, he hurled rocks and sand at Nancy, temporarily blinding her. She screamed. The knife dropped.
Max pick up a huge rock, brought it down on the side of Nancy's head. She made a soft moan and slumped down, lying very still in a semi-crouch, her knees drawn up, her breasts soft and mellow. She lay very still.
May was so terrified that she could scarcely scream. Even if she could scream, it would have served little purpose. She was isolated and alone in this wilderness with a girl who was unconscious, perhaps dead! The others included a drunken sex-satiated Ned and a drunken but lust-filled Max-with a knife.
As Max wavered back and forth on his feet, his turgid power equally serving, there was a maniacal glow in his dark eyes. His face, once innocent and rather cute by girlish standards, was now screwed up in a furious expression.
"Don't ... don't come near me!" pleaded May.
Max came forward slowly, as if tortuously delaying his final plan to draw out her fears. "Don't tell me what to do...." He swore and called her vile names and raved, wildly yelling that she was no good.
"I ... I wanted you...." she sobbed: "But you couldn't...."
"Shut up!" He flinched at this affront to his manhood. Now he was like a raving bull in rut and he was going to get his just due.
"W-what are you going to do?" May Kramer was sobbing, making a foolish attempt to cover her breasts, feeling a spasm as the soft nipples shivered by the contact of warm flesh.
"Have my fun," replied Max with a sneer, still clutching the evil looking knife.
What was he talking about? Why did he edge closer to the groggy Ned who sprawled nakedly on the ground?
May Kramer was completely helpless. She felt the sharp cut of pebbles and small rocks, biting the soft flesh of her hips. There was still the echoing pain of the way Ned had treated her. It was her first time with a man-and she never knew it could be so agonizing. May wanted to crawl away somewhere, to hide, to sob and moan and weep out her frustration and grief. But there was no escape.
No escape from her batted conscience, her rammed body, and from this hulking creature in splendrous masculine power who now hovered over her, his shadow teasing the soft warmth of her body.
Again, May asked, "What are you going to do, Max?" She sobbed brokenly, prepared to beg him not to hurt her. True, she had wanted him just a short while ago-but then she had been so intoxicated with the moonshine they forced down her throat and she had also been drugged with fiery desire. She wanted anything!
Now, she just wanted to escape. She would have willingly agreed to do anything, if only he would give her merciful freedom.
"I toldja," his words were thick and drink-laden. "I want my fun and I'm gonna get it."
Max then turned on his heel and nakedly went toward Ned who tried to rouse himself. "All worn out, eh?"
Ned muttered something.
Suddenly, Max's foot lashed out, slamming Ned across the temple.
Ned gave a shocked scream. Now he was stunned into consciousness. "W-what?"
Everything was dizzy. It took Max just a few moments to find what he groped around for. A slender willow switch. He held it up with fiendish glee. "Gonna punish you-like a wild bull oughta be punished. Then I'm gonna geld you-turn you into a heifer...."
Max was like a powerful giant. He grabbed the weak Ned, hurled him face down. For a moment, he stared down at the broad shoulders the enviable V-tapered latissimus spread, the narrow waist that fanned out to masculine bronzed thighs. Every muscle was alive with sinewy strength.
Suddenly, Max gave a loud cry. The willow switch was raised high in the air. Max had planted both feet astride the flat Ned and it made him the master.
The switch whispered in the air. It caused a loud thwack. Ned screamed as the switch sliced through his broad back. Instinctively, he clapped both hands to the back of his neck and tried to protect himself.
Again, the punishing switch flailed the air and slashed across the muscular planes of Ned's athletic back. The muscles twitched like a series of little snakes. A fire tore through Ned's body. Again and again the whip slashed the victim with merciless fury.
Max cursed and kicked his beaten slave, fuming because he had taken away the desire from May Kramer; Max even forgot that he, himself, initiated the union because he had been unable to fulfill his proof of manhood.
Max was vengeance bent.
Screams filled the air. Ned was shrieking like a beaten woman. He tried to rise up but the switch only slashed down across his hard back until he was criss-crossed with a series of red and black welts, from his shoulder blades down to his twitching buttocks, and even down to his sun bronzed thighs.
Max hurled the whip away and yanked Ned around, seizing a handful of his thick hair. With a snarl, he said, "I'm gonna teach you a lesson-you're gonna be my gal." Again, he forced the sobbing Ned face down, looking like a beaten athlete.
Horrified, May Kramer watched the scene. It unfolded before her like a panorama. It could have been a scene from a forbidden book, or a tale told by a storyteller back in the days of dark dungeons and torture pits where the most insidious acts were performed by the most depraved of creatures.
Heavily, Max dropped down, straddling the squirming Ned. Max's thick buttocks were flat on top of Ned's. Max then lowered himself.
May knew what was going to happen!
She wanted to scream. This was unbelievable. She never thought it could happen-and right in front of her very eyes. She felt sick, violently sick. Oh, if only someone would come to save her, to rescue her!
Max's broad back, glinted in the shadowy moonlight. Everything was so eerie and quiet. It was as if the whole forest had hidden from this bizarre scene.
Worse than that, it could have been a throwback to the days of the Roman Legions, when conquering hordes came down on startled villages, kidnapping young boys upon whom they practiced the most depraved of actions and rflost vilest of deeds.
Max slammed both palms flat on Ned's back, pushing at his flogged shoulder blades and forcing him down ... all the way down....
Ned gurgled. He became wildly aware of what was going to happen to him. With a shock, he tried to fight off Max, pleading that they always had it the reverse way-which May Kramer could not understand.
"Shut up-or I'll really hurt you!" yelled Max.
In a daze, May Kramer clutched both of her breasts to ward off any unseen invaders. She crouched, drawing up both legs and locking her thighs as another means of self-protection. She watched the way Max gripped both of Ned's taut buttocks.
There was a split second of silence. Suddenly, a piercing scream tore through the air. Ned was yelling at the top of his lungs.
"NO! NO! Ohhhhh ... NO NO NO!!"
Max was gasping heavily. His body was arched as if he were using a woman-and, indeed, in his depraved and drunken mind, that was exactly what he was doing.
Again and again the thrusts racked his body and each time Ned screamed.
After a few vigorous movements, Max flattened out on top of Ned in a heavily exhausted manner, breathing deeply. It reminded May of the bull during the mating season, after he gave vent to his desires.
May felt sick-violently sick!
Max eased his bulk from Ned's body. Ned, meanwhile, was sobbing, dimly aware that May and, possibly, Nancy, had witnessed this shameful act, this humiliation upon his manhood-and he felt stripped away of his manly pride.
"Now I'm really gonna fix you-never bother my girl again!"
Ned was dazed. He heard everything as though it were in a fog. There was a distant roaring in his ears. He tried to lift himself up but the sharp pain that pierced his loins and had invaded deep was still a red hot poker and tormented him with each agonizing twist.
The slicing willow switch had humbled him and this series of dull stabs also tormented Ned.
What was Max going to do?
With a shock, May Kramer knew the answer! No-it could not be possible.
Max was not that crazed with liquor!
Max had found his knife again. He held it tight in one huge hand. Mumbling to himself, he dragged Ned until he was righted up. Ned's face was ghastly pale. His once proud body was now beaten and humbled. He stared up with grisly horror as he saw the way Max was bending over him, the sharp edge of the knife glinting in the dim light.
"NO!" Ned tried to rear up in horror. But he was so weak from the liquor, the orgies, then being flogged and used like a woman ... he was completely dominated! "NO!"
"Teach you...."
Max had lost hold of his senses. That could be the only answer. No one who was normal would do such a thing. Suddenly, one of Max's hands shot down and seized Ned.
Ned screamed as Max tightened his fingers. Ned writhed in agony, trying to free himself, knowing that if Max would squeeze tighter, his manhood would be crushed! Ned screamed as shock waves tore through his loins. Fire tore into his body, ripping him apart. A hammer slammed at the base of his neck.
Again and again, Ned screamed while the cruel Max completely deranged, was preparing for the most horrible of savage tortures. His knife hand descended and suddenly it made a half swoop and a twist. A split second of silence.
Ned gave another scream-it pierced his ears, split the forest, echoed through the trees. It was the most horrible scream that anyone had ever heard.
A grinning Max, his mouth now twisted in a stupid, mind-warped slurp, dropped the knife and then stumbled off-leaving behind, a mutilated Ned, blood gushing to warm the region of his upper thighs ... to fill the gaping wound....
May Kramer felt everything coming up in her throat. She was sick-violently sick.
Then she saw Nancy-a white faced Nancy, crawling toward her.
The two of them, arm in arm, started screaming-their screams echoed louder than those of the now unconscious and shock-filled Ned, who lay sprawled, his hands at his groin in an inborn instinctive desire to protect what no longer remained to be protected.
The girls screamed and screamed in hysteria.....until the state troopers came ... and the horrible nightmare was at an end.
CHAPTER FIVE
SAN FRANCISCO 10 MILES
The brightly marked road sign was illuminated by the glaring lights of the twin headlamps of the station wagon as it veered off a side road, one of the many arteries on the highway.
"Won't be long now." The driver, a linen clad blonde woman, slim and elegant, with a glittering diamond choker around her soft throat, peered back at May Kramer. "You'll love San Francisco, I'm sure."
"Have you ever been there before?" It was her seat companion, a youngish looking man in a neat white suit, with a cool white shirt and polka dot tie, smiled congenially at May Kramer.
"N-no," she said in a soft voice, still feeling a bit self-conscious, even though she had been riding with them for the better part of a whole day. "I've heard so much about San Francisco, that I know I'll be happy there."
The woman driver's velvet gloved hand left the steering wheel to wave before them as they passed through a rural district. "I think we better stop at that drive-in motel just up ahead. It's getting dark and we could all use a night's rest, I'm positive."
May Kramer felt squeamish. All alone in the world. That's what she was, and no matter how you sliced it, the truth was that ever since she left home a few days ago, she was completely on her own. May bit her lip nervously, drawing her arms together to fold her hand in her lap.
It had been a horrible experience. A nightmare. But it had happened to her and not only threatened to ruin her life, but had succeeded in destroying the others.
How was she to know that Max and Ned had been, novices when it came to making corn mash or homespun or bootleg whiskey or whatever it was called? The ferment had been immature and set up an acid reaction that caused mental derangement. It was Max who really had lost hold of his senses. He could not distinguish between reality and aberration. He became a wild man, raving and brutal in maniacal lust and then perpetrated the most awful perversions on Ned-completely ruining him!
Both Max and Ned were sent to the institution for the criminally insane. Mercifully, Max had never gotten out of his stupor and was unaware of what had happened. As for Ned, he was reduced to a babbling idiot when he did come out of his coma and discovered he was no longer a man, but a mutilated creature; it was enough to drive him stark raving mad.
They heard us screaming. May reflected as the auto swerved onto the narrow path leading to a drive-in motel. They were just passing by and came to our rescue. Never before had she been so relieved to see the state troopers.
"Here we are!"
May was roused out of her painful memories. There would be plenty of time to think back of those days. Why keep on reliving them? It was like opening raw wounds again!
"Do-do you think it's all right if I stay here with you tonight?" She was still shy and suspicious after the experiences she had gone through. These two people had been so kind to pick her up when she was hitch-hiking, earlier that day. She had boarded a bus in town and it took her as far as forty-two dollars would take. But she was still a long way from Los Angeles.
"Of course," the woman smiled elegantly. She was attractive with soft blonde hair done up in a widow's peak; a glittering hat pin stuck through, emphasizing the rich, sophisticated air. "We're very guest friendly, Mike and I."
Her name was Louise Anders and she was travelling across the country with her husband, Mike Anders. Since they were husband and wife, it appeared that there would be nothing to fear. And they certainly were gracious enough, having taken her all this distance, almost at the doorstep of San Francisco. True, she had wanted to go to Los Angeles but in her present condition, she was not in any position to be fussy. There would be another car that undoubtedly would be travelling from San Francisco down to the film capital of the world-and another helpful driver would give her a lift.
May kept telling herself that the past was done with. She had to trust people, she continued to insist. The whole world was not as bad as the few devils who had tormented her.
Louise Anders moved a well shaped leg and pressed the excruciatingly narrow toe of her sleek alligator stilleto shoe onto the pedal. The car came to a braking stop. A soft crunch of gravel. She turned the ignition key. Looking in the rear view mirror, the smooth faced blonde said, "May, please do stay here with us for the night. I just couldn't let you on that road by yourself. Besides, it's getting dark and it isn't safe for anyone in this wilderness."
May was about to say that since they were only ten miles from San Francisco, why couldn't they drive for another few moments and leave her off in the city? But she was not going to bite the hand that was feeding her. Besides, she had no more than ten dollars and a few coins in her small purse. That would hardly pay for a decent room in San Francisco. And these people were inviting her to remain with them-for free! How unappreciative could she be?
Mike Anders leaned forward, his handsome head close to hers. Mike's dark eyes flashed as he glanced down to see May's dimpled knees, vanishing beneath the slow pleated skirt of her silk print dress. "We'll take a double room-Louise and I-and we'll ask for an adjoining single for you. How does that sound?"
It sounded too good to be true. "I--I really don't know what to say."
"Then say 'yes' and we'll be together for the night. You know," Louise turned around on her seat, her breasts taut against her silk linen jacket, "after this night, we shan't be seeing each other."
"Very well," she swallowed hard, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. There were kind people in the world, after all! "I really appreciate all that you're doing for me."
Mike's voice was unusually soft. "The pleasure is all ours."
There was no time for further talk. Already, the motel owner was coming toward them. A sunburned athletic looking man in his middle 30's, he wore tight blue jeans and a matching blue work shirt, hardly fashionable for a motel, but then this particular drive-in wasn't in Duncan Hines. "Evening, folks," he flashed a grin. "Looking for a place to stay?"
"That should be obvious," Mike muttered as he opened the door and let May get out first.
May had a fleeting sensation that he was looking her over too intimately, almost as if he could see that her breasts were softly naked beneath her silk print dress. Already, the tips were sending sparks through her upper reaches and May was sensitively aware of the way the heavy balloons bounced up and down with the most ordinary movements. She should have worn a bra! But she hated the confinement, the bondage of having her soft breasts sealed within a lacy prison. And those biting straps!
"This is the Willow Branch Motel," he announced, pausing only to stare at May, her smooth black hair combed neatly around her ivory white face, pierced only by the gash of red that was on her soft, moist mouth. "We have a dining room, television, air-conditioning and car hop service."
May held her small overnight bag. It contained her worldly possessions. It was all she could carry on such a short notice to get out of town. "Well ... I don't see any car hop girls around."
"That's because it's Monday night," he explained, reaching for her suitcase. "It's the one night a week the girls are off."
May felt a tremor at the way his strong arm moved to grip her suitcase. He had a powerful, athletic strength that communicated to her. She saw his crinkly smile, the way his blue eyes lit up and took her in. There was a slight flush creeping up her face when she watched the way his broad shoulders moved as he led them to the office. His blue jeans were so tight on his limbs, that every muscle and crevice was outlined. When he turned, at the juncture where his thighs joined his trunk, his powerful virility was boldly accentuated. But he was so matter-of-fact about it all, that May did not know whether he was on the make, or just being friendly.
The office was small, just enough room for a counter, several chairs, and a pay phone on the wall. "I'm Tony Lindgren," he introduced himself. "I run the whole Willow Branch Motel by myself. My wife is off in Hollywood, trying to get into the movies. She goes there every year about this time-and comes back when they turn her down." Tony laughed, showing bright even teeth. "Can't blame her for trying."
"Of course not," agreed Mike Anders, glancing at Louise who was already opening a beaded bag, extracting a gold ball point pen and a folded checkbook.
"How much is a double for my husband and myself? We also want an adjoining single for our friend, May Kramer. She's travelling with us."
Tony Lindgren glanced at the checkbook. "We can't take checks," he said disappointedly.
"These happen to be traveller's checks," she said firmly.
"Oh, oh, I'm sorry," he apologized. "The rates are seventeen for the double, including breakfast, and ten for the single, also including breakfast."
Without a word, Louise Anders affixed her signature to several oblong traveller's checks and handed them to the motel owner. "Will you show us to our rooms, please?"
"Sure thing. Oh, one moment, please. I'll give you the change."
May Kramer was amazed. The woman paid more than the rooms called for and she had not even bothered asking for change. As for herself, May had always been taught the value of a dollar. Every penny counted. This was a change.
Tony Lindgren dug into his jeans, brought out a worn leather wallet, peeled off seven single dollar bills and gave them to Louise who thanked him politely. She was well groomed and cordial in everything she did. Obviously she had good breeding and must have come from a family of social standing.
As for Mike Anders, he was unusually quiet. Looking cool and immaculate in his white linen suit, the match of the one worn by his wife, he cast shy glances at Tony who hardly even noticed him.
"Just follow me," Tony said, picking up May's suitcase in one hand and the keys in his other. "Where is your luggage?"
"I just have this overnight bag," explained Louise Anders. "It'll be enough. We'll leave early tomorrow morning ... uh, right after breakfast, of course." Then she paused. "Shoudn't we sign the register?"
"Plenty of time in the morning," he said. "I trust you folks." He was entirely too trusting, it appeared.
Outside, it was already dark. Night birds made their pleasant sounds; crickets chirped and a soft breeze fanning the magnificent redwoods of northern California made everything so tranquil. A strange scent assailed her nostrils. Pine woods. It was so refreshing that May Kramer felt all of her fears and woes leaving her. She was safe and sound, far away from that dastardly place back home. In due time, she would forget that horrible orgy and the two depraved men in an institution.
She would even forget Jeanie-her step-sister. Jeanie with the soft mouth, the teasing tongue, her white breasts that became alive with red glowing tips at the slightest touch.
Jeanie-the girl who loved the way a man should love. Jeanie, the girl who had loved May, kissed her all over, stroked and fanned the fires.
Could she ever forget Jeanie?
Possibly-if she would meet another girl ... one who would love her with all the turbulent, aggressive passions of a man.
They were going toward a long row of motel rooms, set in the nearby woods, surrounded by tall trees, floral bushes, neat hedges and lawn patches. A few outside lights showed that some of the rooms were occupied. Soft music drifted across the way; a few shrill laughs were heard and a distinct voice shrilled, "No-no-Eddie-oooh-no-oh-ohhh...."
"Here we are, folks." Tony Lindgren, the owner of the Willow Branch Motel opened the screen door, unlocked the wooden door. A musty closed-in smell could be felt as he went inside, flicked on the air-conditioning unit (which turned out to be nothing more than an ordinary blower fixture) and then snapped on the lights.
The Anders' went in first. May remained in the doorway, still feeling apprehensive about accepting their courtesy. But she knew she was not in any position to act independent. Had it not been for these people, she might still be stranded on the highway, thumbing a ride, fearful of who the driver might be.
From inside, Tony was saying, "This room adjoins to the next one. You can open or lock the connecting door."
Just then, May heard some loud laughing and a wild yell, "Whoopie ... will you get a load of that!"
Before May could turn, she felt the probing glare of an automobile headlight turned directly on her.
"Hey-lookit all them nice, soft curves." There were shrieks and laughter and someone cried out, "That one isn't even wearing a bra! Hey-those are nifty panties!"
She whirled, suddenly aware that the bright headlight was making her silk print dress completely transparent, outlining the shadowy curve of her soft thighs and well rounded buttocks. Her skin tight panties were wisp, nearly transparent and she might as well be naked for all those concerned. "Stop that!" she yelled out. "Get away from here."
Tony Lindgren came running. "Hey-you go back in your rooms or I'll have you tossed out! This is a respectable motel!"
May Kramer was stunned. On the lawn were three people-two were brawny looking men, with bronzed legs and broad shoulders. They looked like virile young lifeguards with white strips of bathing trunks. The third was a honey blonde, wearing the same white bathing suit ... but no ... upon closer look, as the young men danced wildly and turned to run back into their rooms, their buttocks flashed in the light. They were naked-all three of them!
The white strips were flesh-eager, responsive and hot!
The blonde's breasts were milky white, shaped like conical pears, with enormous stems that pointed downward. Her well shaped bottom flounced up and down in alternate rhythm as she squealed and hurried back into the room.
"I don't think I'd want to stay in this kind of place," declared Louise Anders, looking angered.
"Me neither," muttered Mike. From the flushed expression on his face, it was apparent that this little jaunt upset him.
"Now, now, those people just had too much to drink. It never happens here," defended Tony Lindgren. "I'm strict about such things. Maybe I'll give them back their money and tell them to leave."
"You needn't go to that extreme." Louise Anders felt placated. "After all, you're in business to make a profit and I suppose you didn't know they were that type when you rented to them."
"Of course not." Tony appeared anxious to get away, while his new guests were temporarily calmed down. "Have a nice sleep. Breakfast is served in our little dining nook right next to the wishing well in the back over there." He waved in the direction and then his broad-shouldered, slim-hipped figure was vanishing in the darkness.
"I think it's a good idea for us to keep our doors securely locked." Inside the double room, the Anders began unpacking a few items.
"Yes," stammered May Kramer, deciding this was a good time to leave them alone. She, too, wanted to be by herself, to think things out. "Well, I guess I'll take a shower and turn in. It's been a long and hard day."
Mike Anders had slipped out of his white jacket, unbuttoned his shirt. In a moment, he was naked to the waist. His broad chest was bronzed in athletic strength; his biceps moved with rippling power and there was an air of sensuous animal passion about him. "Sleep tight," he said, his tongue flickering over his lips while he kept looking at the naked valley of her upper breasts, the shadowy line dividing the twin peaks.
Inside her own room, May Kramer took a deep breath. She felt a tingle at the thought of being alone with these two strangers. That Mike Anders did have a sexy look about him. For a moment, she started comparing him with her husky step-brother, Jeff, when he pseudo-showered himself in the open yard, using a water hose. Her heart pounded with nervous reaction to think of Jeff-big, brawny like a bull used to sire mares. Even in his flaccid condition, he was big!
She was slightly in awe of the male sex. While she now was firmly convinced that anything to do with men would lead to inevitable tragedy, not to mention pain, she still felt curiosity about the opposite sex.
She remembered how the entire town had been shocked by the scandal. All blame was upon her and Nancy, the other girl. But it was May Kramer who was termed a loose girl; a fatherless hoyden who would do anything to satisfy her devilish urges. As for Nancy, she was forced into this debauchery!
After all, Nancy's parents were long standing Grange members, officials of the town government and on the school board. It was obvious that they commanded so much position, not to mention the fact that they also set the prices on the grain elevators in the co-op, and hence were above suspicion.
They used May as a scapegoat and nothing could be done about it. May had been violently ill at the local hospital for more than a week, after she found out what had happened; She was in a state of shock that bordered on a nervous breakdown.
Over and over, she had to tell the local police about Ned and Max and how they had brought the moonshine from a taboo still, while it was still fresh and highly poisonous. Then she had to tell every detail of their sordid lovemaking, even down to the way she had been taken by Ned-used as if she were a recepacle for his perverted lusts.
May Kramer always sensed that those who listened to her story received a vicarious thrill out of it-it was a weird way to get kicks, but from the look of intense absorption and how they followed every detail, it was apparent they were excited over the minute items.
When May had to tell about Max using Ned-just as if he were a woman-and then how Max had brutally mutilated Ned with a knife, turning him into a woman-it made her so violently sick that the hospital physician forbade her retelling of the story.
After a few weeks of sedation and medication at the hospital, May Kramer was released. But her troubles were just beginning. While her step-father drove her home, without saying a word, that would be his last act of gratitude. In front of the house, her suitcase was waiting for her: already packed.
"B-but ... can't I say goodbye to Mama?" she sobbed tearfully. No one was outside.
"Get your suitcase," pointed her stepfather, "and get into the car. I'm driving you to the railroad station. You'll be given twenty dollars. Where and how far it takes you is none of my business. I never want you to step foot in my house again."
She was so shaken, following the ordeal and now this, that May could not even muster enough strength to try to defend herself. "I'd at least like to say goodbye to Jeanie."
The stepfather was angered. "Keep away from my daughter," he emphasized his possession. "Never speak to her again-or I'll take a horsewhip to you-slut!"
If he had flogged her, she would not have been so hurt Tears flooding her eyes, a choke welling up in her throat, she took her suitcase and sat in the back of the car as he drove her to the railroad station. No words were spoken when they stopped. The stepfather got out, opened her door, motioned her to leave the car. The suitcase was dumped on the ground. In a moment, he was back in the car, driving off in a cloud of dust. The car became smaller and smaller until it vanished in the distance.
Never before had May Kramer felt so alone. In one hand was the twenty dollar bill he pressed at her; in the other hand, she picked up her suitcase and made her way to the depot ticket office. She was so flustered and nervous that she could scarcely gather her senses together. She knew she made a foolish one-way ticket purchase to a small town somewhere. She was confused. And ... five hours later ... when the railroad train left her at this town, she again sensed the aloneness. Just ten dollars and change in her purse-that was all. And she was hungry.
It was a stroke of luck that would obliterate all the misfortune she had endured that the Anders happened along in their sky blue Volvo with the pink upholstery. A compact car, it bespoke of wealth as did everything about these two people. Surely there could be no harm in accepting their generous offers of help!
They not only offered to drive her to San Francisco, but bought her a sumptuous dinner on the way. Steak smothered in onions, mashed potatoes with gobs of. steaming gravy, fragrant green peas and artichoke hearts, followed by a baked Alaska, and two cups of black coffee, made May Kramer feel like a new girl.
She wanted to repay these kind people for getting her out of the worst dilemma she had ever known. There would be time, the next day, to offer to repay them-at least, she could get their home address and perhaps mail them something in gratitude when she was back on her feet again.
CHAPTER SIX
Her room was neatly furnished, with a comfy looking bed, a matching maplewood dresser, a large oval mirror, several Swedish modern sitting chairs and an honest-to-goodness home made braided rug. The bathroom was little more than an overly large shower stall, but she could not have been happier.
She opened her suitcase, peered inside. A few dresses, tossed in helter skelter, becoming wrinkled. A sea green slip, several panties, a beret type hat, hankies, her cosmetic kit. Except for her comfortable patent leather shoes, she had no others. The suitcase had her bobby sox-a bitter irony, reminding her that she was still a child.
Angrily, she took them out, was about to shred them to pieces, when she remembered with a sudden surge of practical wisdom borne of conflict, that she had nothing else. She decided to use them, bitterly, until she had enough money for genuine silk stockings!
Where would she get the money? She had no training or experience in anything-maybe a job in a restaurant At least she would be assured meals and tips, as well as a salary. That was something! She would not worry about that right now. There was plenty of time to think of the future when tomorrow came.
Right now, she was going to indulge in a nice cool shower, then stretch out on the soft bed and go to sleep-stark naked! It sent a thrill up her spine at the thought of rolling nakedly between the sheets, the feel of soft cloth against her thighs, caressing her breasts, teasing her hips. At home-laughingly, it was called a home-she could never sleep that way.
Her mother forbade it since her step-father frequently woke her up and May Kramer was in the habit of kicking off the blanket when she slept!
Now she was going to do what she wanted to do and nobody would stop her! She would even paint her face up so she would look like those film glamour queens.
The only sore spot was in being deprived of her mother. While they had never been exceptionally close, it was the only family she had. "Wake up," May told herself. "The truth is that you're on your own now-make the best of it and stop living in the past. It's too ugly. The future is bright and fresh and young."
Standing before the oval mirror atop the maplewood dresser, she fidgeted behind the small of her back, found the zipper of her silk print dress, and drew it down. Her breasts joggled against the loose silk bodice and her tips were seared by pangs of desire.
It felt good when Jeanie kissed them ... took my nipple in her mouth, licked it until I screamed from joy. I loved kissing her, too, loving her breasts, stroking her thighs, kissing her beautiful body.
May shivered slightly as she took her shoulders, let the sleeveless dress slip down. Her flesh was creamy soft and white as May stared at her own reflection. As the silk print dress kissed her upper breasts while sliding down, she experienced a few intimate tremors. The dress slipped lower and in a moment, her twin mounds were bare.
The dress went lower, coming to a pause around her ample hips. May opened her palms, started to massage her breasts, gripping the nipples between a thumb and forefinger of each hand. She squeezed ... squeezed very hard until a spasm of pain erupted. Closing her eyes, she imagined it was a woman biting on them, while her hands were doing all sorts of things to her.
Her breasts rose high on her broad rib cage. Taking a deep breath, she shook from side to side, enjoying the way her twin melons were riding back and forth in a dizzying blur like two pillows in the warm breeze.
She let the dress go down lower, over her fullsome hips, then it fell down around her feet. She kicked off her patent leather shoes, squirmed out of those ridiculous bobby sox, then stepped out of the puddle.
Her palms ran up and down the sleek slopes of her panty covered buttocks. Her panties were spider web lace, jet black, yet so sheer, they looked like shadows across her hips. She parted her milky white thighs, inserted her hands and stroked herself in faster rhythm.
Shiver after shiver tore into her loins. She reared her shoulders, nearly fell backward with this self-induced exhilaration. It was like a shower of stars erupting all around her. She loved the feel of her hands upon herself!
There was a knock on the adjoining door. May paused. She looked wildly around for some covering. Except for her midnight black but transparent panties, cut low around her hips, with her dimpled buttocks a shadowy tease, she was naked. "Just ... just a minute, please."
She hurried into the closet like bathroom; with a surge of relief, she discovered a huge turquoise bath towel. It wrapped securely around and covered her from her armpits down to her lower thighs. Her breasts lolled around. The rough tufts of the bath towel bruised her nipples, sending a coursing wave of desire sweeping in her bloodstream.
No sooner had she stepped back into her own room, than the door opened. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't intrude." It was Louise Anders, wearing a white slip-and nothing else! For just a moment, as she stood in the doorway, the light from both rooms acted like an illuminating X-ray, showing the shadowy movements of her legs, the concave belly and the triangular indentation beneath.
"That's all right," stammered May, feeling abashed at the sight of Louise Anders in the dazzling white slip. "I ... was just going to take a shower."
"I just wanted to talk to you ... shall I come back later?" Her feet were bare. The sleek silk stockings made her well shaped legs flash in the soft light.
May caught a glimpse of Louise's husband in the other room. He was still bare-chested, his bronzed pectorals looking strong and masculine. A white towel was around his slim hips. He looked virile. It frightened May. "N-no ... why not sit down while I shower? I'll only be a minute." She brushed away a stray wisp of hair, aware that her breasts were shaking.
Louise Anders closed the door. "I hope you don't mind."
She was polite. And so well-groomed, too. Her soft blonde hair was now down around her shoulders, falling like a golden shower, her posture was straight and proud. Her breasts were extremely round, like world globes; her areolars were pressed tight against the soft bodice of her white silk slip. The wine colored areolars were already growing stiff and urgent.
"Be right back," gasped May Kramer, knowing that she was becoming stimulated at the sight of this milky white golden goddess. It would do no good, she kept telling herself, even as she squirmed into the tight shower stall, after having shut the bathroom door poiltely. I'll just get all excited and nothing will come out of it.
The sting of the needle spray shower brought her back to the present. She loved the velvet smooth water as it coursed between her breasts, trickled down around her hillock of a dimpled belly, then teased her lower down, invaded the thatch covered passageway of Satana, and moistened her buttocks from behind.
Fortunately, the motel provided fragrant white soap; she so detested the utiliarian soap used in the farms. It washed away dirt and grime but made one feel like a piece of laundry when it was over. May's first glimpse of the outer world was through a scented soaping in a tiny stall like shower in a motel paid for by a couple she had met only earlier today.
It was weird.
She manipulated the faucets until a chilly cool spray washed away the soap, giving her a delicate sensitivity and heady glow. Then she turned off the faucets, careful not to let any drips come forth. It was still a part of her austere upbringing on the farm. Well, she would have to learn to live and love and forget about expenses!
Nakedly, she stepped on the tile floor, towelled herself vigorously with the turquoise rough turkish bath towel. She felt as if a pair of soft hands were fondling her as the towel went through her thighs over the gentle slopes of her back, then around her tummy.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and then towelled her breasts, pinching the nipples until shooting sparks of fire tore through her whole upper body. Swaying in this self-love, she smiled and breathed deeper and deeper, enjoying the scent of the French milled soap.
Now she was ready to leave. Wrapping the towel around herself to act as a wrap-around from armpits to her knees, she went out into the room.
"Whew!" she almost stumbled as everything came into focus. There was a flash of white thigh as the towel parted. She felt a soft breeze steal beneath the towel and cup her hips in a kissing intimacy. "It's quite a difference to come out from a steamy shower room into a bedroom."
"Yes; atmospheric pressures or other. Besides, we're up north, near San Francisco and near the Pacific. That has something to do with it, also." Louise Anders was sitting on the edge of the bed, her dimpled knees crossed over one another. Her sheer silk stockings made her legs look smooth, glossy, and as soft as white velvet! The strap of her white silk slip had fallen down and a heavy rounded breast was firm on her upper chest. The red saucer of an areolar was taut against the simple white bodice, being outlined so that the rocky ridges were boldly visible.
May Kramer felt her heart pounding. There was a throbbing at the base of her temples. All the while she kept remembering that just at the other side of the door was Mike Anders. Then May made another instant discovery: the draperies of the motel room had been drawn shut. It was intimate and cozy-just the two of them.
"I ... I want to thank you for everything, Louise." For want of something to say, May started off this way. She sat down on a chair facing the bed. For some reason, she was too timid to sit beside her benefactor. "You know, I was in a desperate way when you found me on the road."
Louise smiled. Her mouth was inviting. Her lips were slim and poised. "It was my pleasure. Of course, it's none of my business, but are you running away from someone?"
"I-I had a little trouble."
She arched her pencil thin eyebrows. Her grey eyes looked coolly at the girl in the turquoise bath towel, moistly scented and soft. "You mean...?"
"Oh, no," she sputtered. "Not that kind of trouble, Louise. I come from a small town and when a girl necks with a boy, it's as bad as if she became pregnant. Anyway, some years ago my father died so my mother remarried. My stepfather was very mean to me. It reached the point where I just couldn't stand it any longer. I'm of age now, so I just packed and left. The hardest part was leaving my mother." She glanced down at her own tawny legs. "My stepfather was so mean, he wouldn't even let me wear silk stockings."
Louise Anders ran a hand through her soft silky hair. "You've got such lovely legs, May. It's a shame that they can't be improved with silk hosiery. You know, men look at a girl's legs before going up higher?"
May felt warm and relaxed. It was nice to talk to Louise. "Men are selfish. Out for their own pleasures. I wouldn't let one touch me."
"Men are not as bad as all that," Louise said carefully. "You have to put them in their place, make them humbled and submissive." She reached out and ran her palm up and down her sleek leg. "Would you like to put on a pair of silk stockings? I think these should fit you, if you don't mind wearing mine. I have scads of hosiery but they're packed away in the trunk."
"I-I just couldn't-" Her heart pounded as she watched Louise lift up one shapely leg, extend it in front of her.
Louise pushed her white silk slip up higher, over her thighs, until it was apparent that she wore a pair of white silk panties, smooth and flesh tight. The elastic band was tight and high, almost at Louise's crotch. "No harm in it." She beckoned with a crocked finger. "Want to feel how smooth it is? Just run your hand up and down my leg. Go ahead, don't by shy."
Dizzily, May Kramer got up. For a moment, she forgot that her turquoise bath towel was held with her hand. Suddenly, it parted and in that instant, her ivory smooth body, flecked with touches of pink, was brought into full view.
Louise Anders sucked in her breath as she saw the sharp pointed breasts, the dancing shadows playing with the strawberry tips, then the soft navel and just beyond the tiny bulge of the lower tummy, the shaded garden of Venus with the treacherous trail. "You ... you are lovely, my child." Louise was breathing heavily. Moisture bathed her pretty face in a sensuous glow.
Quickly, May covered herself and this time she knotted the towel so that it held tight above her protruding breasts. What was the matter with her? Here she was, alone and naked, with a girl in a silky white slip, just about as naked as she was-but the girl's husband was in the next room This was unreal! Suppose he barged in and caught them!
If he would flog the two of them, they would deserve this punishment.
Louise's leg was again extended. "Crouch down and hold my foot in your lap," she ordered.
Woodenly, May obeyed, aware that as she squatted, her own bare foot dug into the soft recesses of her upper hips. It was an intimate feeling. Louise's leg was glossy smooth. May ran her hands up and down, all the way from her upper thighs down to the toe. All the while, Louise writhed and squirmed on the bed; her face was flushed and she emitted strange little gasping sounds.
"Do ... you like my legs, May?"
"Y-yes," she gasped, reeling from the electrifying effect of fondling another woman's silken clad leg.
"I suppose you love silks-my husband does, too. It's exciting."
"Y-yes," she repeated stupidly. May kept staring at Louise Anders' heaving breasts beneath the low cut bodice of her white silk slip.
"This slip is pure silk, too."
May knew that. "I've never before seen white silk." For that matter, she had not seen much in the world of fashion or style. There was much she would have to learn.
"I've got white panties, too." She was talking through tight lips. "May, would you like to try them on? Go ahead-you seem to love silk. I know you'd like my panties and slip."
May's senses were reeling. This lovely creature was going to denude herself, just like that? What sort of situation had she walked into? "N-no," she tried to back out of it. "I ... I don't think so."
Louise would hear nothing in the way of protests. "Of course you would," she scolded. "You needn't be shy." She removed her silky foot from May's palms and then stood up. "Now ... just reach down there and take the hem of this white silk slip and pull it upward. That way it won't wrinkle if I should bend down. Pull it up, May, all the way, over my head."
May felt her heart pounding. A searing fire was burning through her loins. Her tummy felt heavy. Her temples burned. She was going to strip her naked! It was obvious. A strange, haunting call urged her to continue. Was it the call of Diana, the huntress? Was it the soulful plea of Sappho, about to initiate another maiden into the pleasure-sweet rites of lesbos erotica? Was it Artemis, twin sister of handsome Apollo, fulfilling an ancient destiny which proclaimed sacred the love, a woman had for another? "May?"
She looked up to see Louise's breasts heaving up and down. "Yes ... I hear you."
"Go ahead ... don't be shy." Louise was now standing.
Stiffly, May took the hem of the white silk slip. She loved its soft feel. Then she began to draw it upward. As it went higher, Louise's fullsome legs came into more open view; her thighs were flawless in construction; marble smooth, with just the slightest touch of blue veins streaking in wild abandonment, they were without blemish or mar.
Clumsily, May got to her knees, her turquoise towel getting loose. She feared that the knot would become undone.
"Hurry," urged Louise, breathing heavier.
Now the silk slip was pulled up above Louise's waist, showing the taut white silk panties on her creamy white pelvis. There was just the slightest bulge of tummy over the white elastic band, and above that, her smooth midriff. The flesh was as clear as crystal Only a tiny dimpled navel broke the calm tranquility of a sea of smooth whiteness.
Then the slip went higher. May paused. Louise's breasts rolled into view when the slip was pulled up around her armpits. May trembled to see how round they were. Both breasts were unusually close together with just a hair thin line dividing them. They were as round as moons; the red saucers were rocky ridged, appearing at the lower bottom of the enormous, shivering breasts. But what amazed May was their pure whiteness. Almost virginal.
"Higher, please ... I'm suffocating."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she gasped. She had been so absorbed in the twin globes dancing on Louise's chest, she forgot that the slip was around her head.
Because Louise was taller, May had to hop up on her toe tips to get the slip over her head. The sudden jump jarred loose her turquoise bath towel. The knot came free. The rough turkish cloth tickled her as it fell down her body. At that moment, Louise's slip came loose and it, too, went on the floor.
Louise's eyes opened wide. "Oh, May-your body-it's so beautiful." Her fingers were unusually bold as she ran them across May's collar bone, the soft hollow of her throat, then came down to stroke her satiny smooth breasts. "They're soft-and shaped like cones. Mine are round by comparison." She seized one nipple between the edges of both hands and squeezed tight. "Ooooh, look how it comes to life."
Both legs drawn tightly together, May Kramer was shivering. "I ... I don't think we should be doing this, Louise." What else could she say?
Louise stiffened. "Why not? If we love it, what is wrong with it?" She became annoyed at this self-critical attitude of shame.
"B-but, your husband...." she stammered nervously, lowering her voice, casting anxious glances toward the door separating the two naked girls from the man who was by now equally naked.
Louise brushed a forefinger across her lips. Her thick blonde eyelashes floated to indicate that Mike could be listening. Then she softened and spoke in more hushed tones. "Never mind about him. If he would satisfy me, do you think I would be so stimulated by a woman's body?" She shook her head and led May to the bed. The springs creaked as their lyre shaped bottoms pressed down on the mattress. Naked, side by side, their bodies were smooth and soft in the shaded light of the lamp on the small night table.
"You mean ... you're married to such a-virile looking man like Mike, and he doesn't satisfy you?" May could not believe it.
Louise smirked. "Mike is one of those body fetish types. He exercises with dumbbells and weights and things. I do admit he's built like a bronzed lifeguard and he's quite a man, as well, but he's more in love with his own physique than anything else. Sometimes, for hours at a time, he can stare at himself in the mirror, flexing his biceps, running his hands up and down his chest and legs." Louise sounded bitter. "How can a man get excited about a woman when he's more fascinated with his own fixtures? Lots of those weight lifters and Mr. America types are the same way-they look like Greek gods, and built that way, too, but they might as well be statues for all the loving they can give to a girl."
May Kramer was still shy about being nude before Louise who still wore those smoke colored panties, tight as a second skin, and so brief that her upper thighs blended into a soft crease to become her pelvis, and the panty just began to conceal her most precious possession.
"I never would have known," sighed May.
"Lie down, my dearest." Louise was soft and warm, her eyes travelling over the creamy softness of the naked nymph who was now stretching out on the bed. The springs sighed softly, as if the bed welcomed such a lovely creature. "Let me love you-the way a girl should be loved."
Louise's lips were warm as they started their invasion; the lips parted slightly, then they began to brush across May's forehead, her eyelids, kissing the soft shell like ears, nibbling at the delicate lobes. When Louise attacked May's mouth, the girl was so startled, she nearly leaped up. But Louise's hands were not idle. One flat palm was pressed down on the soft mound of May's lower tummy, with the fingers teasing the dark nest of triangular erotica. The flat palm pressed hard on the satiny smooth flesh. May fell back on the bed, sighing.
Louise's lips were moist as they pried open May's mouth, seeking the moist shell of her roof; her tongue was a shooting flame, sweeping the roof of May's mouth, attacking every little nook and cranny. In a sudden movement, Louise's tongue darted in the midst of May's mouth and slashed at her moist tongue.
A thousand hammers slammed at the back of May's head; blood roared in her temples. She felt her nerves grow taut and on edge. Pressure was mounting up, higher and higher. In the midst of it all, was the awesome feeling of discovery.
What if Louise's husband should catch them?
Louise was swift. She withdrew her tongue, then nibbled May's soft chin, sent a rain of kisses on her throat, then discovered the soft valley that separated her conical breasts. Her tongue made a moist, hot trail in this valley, while both of her hands were busy, mauling May's breasts, gripping each pinkish nipple, squeezing hard until it became as sharp as a pine needle, growing with turgid demand.
May was gasping. She could not stand this mounting fire. Again and again, a spasm tore through her groin. Her loins were on fire and she kept threshing the bed in nervous anxiety. "Louise," she moaned through swollen lips. "Louise-kiss my breasts-kiss them!"
Louise arched her body, then knelt on the bed. She straddled May, bent her upper body forward and her blonde head went down. She seized May's nipple in her mouth, suctioning it, driving the girl crazed with heated desire until she was making loud, almost pitiful sounds for merciful release.
But Louise was going to savor every moment of this sweet delight. She would not let it end so quickly. It had to be drawn out so that fulfillment would be a shower of golden stars. Louise's lips kissed the nipple, then her tongue lashed across, back and forth. Each time she did this, May reacted with a sharp twitch. Her shoulders stiffened and she took deep breaths to push forth her globes. They were white and round. The pink tip was turning to the color of red wine; potent and sweet and intoxicating.
Now Louise bit down hard on the nipple-first one, then the other. She bit so hard that May screamed lowly. She forgot that Louise's husband come come in at any moment. The fear had become dissipated and pure passion was replaced. The passion was hot and demanding.
Louise crouched. She licked her lips, smiling at May, then massaged her lower tummy, the soft flesh between her thighs even daring to insert her palm beneath both of May Kramer's spreading buttocks, doing things to her with bold fingers that the poor girl was in the throes of an agonizing ecstasy that was at once both sweet and good and also painful and devilish.
"N-no," she squirmed about on the bed. "N-no...." Her eyes closed and she was transported to a heavenly Nirvana, floating on a bed of soft clouds, enjoying the ultimate with the hands and lips of a thousand love slaves all over her body discovering secret little places to arouse even greater fires.
"Love my breasts, too, May." With that, Louise Anders cupped her amazingly round globes, pushed them to May's lips, pried the soft moist mouth open and stuffed a round red saucer in the warm midst.
Louise felt the tremors as May licked at the soft breast, sending waves of electricity through her body. "It's good," she said in a squeezed, tight voice. "This is good, May-the love a woman has for another woman." She withdrew the breast from May's lips and now offered her the twin. This milky globe was moist and warm. The elongated tip was thick-so thick, that it could have been a pinky finger. And it was burning hot as May's tongue lashed it back and forth.
Louise felt the rising tremor. It built up in her loins. It began to make demands that could not be repressed much longer. She was trembling. May was shivering. Their arms and legs were all akimbo, and as they kissed each other, rubbed against one another, they both knew by instinct that it was only a matter of moments before the peak of Sappho would be reached.
"Now!" sobbed May Kramer as she parted her thighs, begging Louise to let her reach the summit. "Please...!"
"Not yet, my dearest; oh, not just yet-let us love and remember this moment forever and ever." She too, was? feverish with hot anxiety. Both of them were moist and slippery. They assumed all sorts of grotesque positions. Louise's dark panties were so moist, they were invisible against her loins. In a flash of subdued light, her womanhood was glaringly outlined.
When May saw it, she went crazy with desire. She tried to pull the elastic band; it gave way, but only yawned to expose the blonde nest beneath and the smooth wrinkles of the ultimate of feminine treasure.
"No," Louise sobbed as she pushed away May's hand. "Not that way."
Suddenly, Louise became more active than a ballet dancer. She twisted sharply at the waist; her blond hair teased the taut, sensitive-as-film flesh of May who writhed and moaned on the bed, the sheets moist with their damp perspiration.
Louise's mouth was like a hot volcano. It burned whenever it touched resilient flesh. It inflamed May Kramer's tummy, causing the lovely little hillock to go up and down....up and down....
May could no longer endure this agonizing torture. She seized Louise's blonde head; with strong fingers, she guided the head until....
Now the lash of desire erupted in her loins. A hot flame, the tongue of a dragon spewing forth its angry fire, shot right into her very innards. May opened her mouth and made a low scream.
The pleasure-pain was like a shock wave ripping into her senses. She writhed wildly on the bed, squirming as the volcano erupted into a cataclysmic explosion. The shock bathed her with hot pleasure. Every part of her body was alive with response. She twisted like a pagan dancer in a primitive jungle, begging, ordering, guiding, until the blonde head was performing its climactic duty.
Again and again the explosive volcano erupted, searing May Kramer, opening the floodgates, giving her the most wonderful feeling she had ever known.
Oh, it was so good.
So very good.
She loved and loved and loved it....
Gradually, the stormy seas subsided and as the careening room came to a blurry halt, May Kramer was aware of something else.
Another person had come into the room!
CHAPTER SEVEN
Louise Anders almost collapsed on the floor. She did not care if it was hard and cold, compared to the bed, she was in the throes of sweet satisfaction, and she was still hot with desire.
"Mike," she gasped, when she saw the bronzed near-nude figure of her husband. "Come here-love me-and love me-"
May was so terrified, that as soon as she could gather together her senses, she stumbled out of bed and crouched in a corner of the small room. Mike Anders had barged through the adjoining door, his face flushed with a strange expression. He glanced at naked May, taking in her mauled breasts, the still quivering hips, and the obvious proof of the sweet passion that had been shared in a lesbos love.
Would he beat her up? May shivered in terror. She knew that any husband who caught his wife in bed with another man would be without mercy in punishing both of them!
What would be a man's reaction if he discovered his wife was a lesbian-and barged in just when they were finished with their lesbian adventures?
"Hurry, Louise."
Strange! Mike Anders was not the least bit vengeful He gave scant attention to May. Instead, he now helped Louise from the floor and put her on the bed. In a moment, he had gripped the elastic band of her panties, started to peel them down her soft hips. He did it nervously, his head bobbing down to kiss Louise's breasts, to seize her nipple between both lips, then to bite down hard.
When the panties were peeled down around Louise's ankles, she jerked her hips to kick them off. At the same time, curly haired Mike unloosened his towel and let it slither down his masculine thighs. In bronzed nudity, he was like a magnificent Grecian statue.
May, hovering in a corner of the room, her conical breasts moist with anticipation over what she now knew was going to be a bizarre act, did not know whether to run away-or watch!
May saw the smooth ripple of Mike's handsome musculature; his shoulders were broad; his chest was deep with rocky crevices of development. His upper torso was shaped like a V, then narrowed down to masculine flanks, lean, but powerful with the lance of poised vigor in its dark scabbard, glistening with droplets of moisture.
There was a strange whisper as he moved his masculine flanks, kneeling on the bed beside Louise who was moaning softly, caressing him, making him twitch because she ex-pored him intimately.
"Now, Mike-now, my dearest." Her voice was filled with nervous anxiety. "I can't wait any longer...."
Mike savored every bit of it. His teeth flashed as he smiled softly. "You let me wait-I was watching through the keyhole-damn near drove me wild...."
He was watching? May was stunned! Mike had been watching the way the two of them bit the apple of Sappho and savored its juicy nectar in forbidden delight! Was Louise aware of it?
"I know-I know-" Louise forgot about May. Now she was solely concerned with her own sorely needed gratification. "I couldn't end it too fast. I wanted as much as possible." She reached out and touched Mike until he squirmed out of her reach.
"Not just yet," he said cruelly. "I'll make you beg for it." But he knew, too, that he was so charged up with stallion powers, he could not control himself.
May could hardly believe what she heard. It was as though she were a spectator in an audience, watching a play unfold before her. The portrayers had forgotten her. But May could not forget this. She would never forget this play of real life.
It was real.
It was RAW!
May watched as Mike Anders then picked up the moist panties. He held the silky puddle in the palms of both hands. He started to kiss the panties. Burying his handsome face in the smoky swirls, he loved the panties. At the same time, he managed to stand up. His strong thighs parted. There was a suspicious twitch of his athletic flanks and his breathing became hard and heavy.
Again, he moved toward the bed. This time, he knelt on the floor. His broad, athletic chest appeared above the bed from his kneeling position. Still holding the panties to his face, he reluctantly pulled himself away from this weird absorption. His eyes were glazed, liquid pools of heady passion. His handsome face was flushed. Each breath brought a powerful ripple to his chiselled pectoral muscles; his thick biceps kept bulging and loosening.
He kissed Louise, ever so softly on the mouth, then let his tongue make a trail between her breasts. She quivered, moaned, gasped. She was burning up. She had to be squelched-or she would explode!
Mike deliberately drew out the agonizing suspension. He teased her by tickling her breasts with the silky panties. Then he kissed her lower tummy.
As May watched, transfixed with astonishing amazement, she felt her own vigor stirring anew. But since she was not a participant, she could do little else but watch!
Mike now kissed Louise where she wanted to be kissed. "I love it," she gave a half-shriek. "I love it!"
Suddenly, Louise's sleek legs leaped up into the air. Her thighs were jerked apart by an unseen power. In that instant, Mike Anders gave her merciful release. He was like a probing asp, digging deep, while stroking her buttocks, caressing the sleek resilience of the flesh that was moist but as smooth as velvet-as white velvet!
Louise's breast bobbed around wildly. Oddly enough, they did not appear to excite Mike. He was more fascinated with the power he had to stimulate Louise-stimulate her in a forbidden manner.
Then, as the soft, moaning cries subsided, Mike withdrew. He had been kneeling on the floor, all along. He stood up shakily. He kept flicking his tongue over his wet lips. Suddenly, he stared at May, He discovered her!
May wanted to scream. Would Mike Anders turn into a brutal beast? There was no foretelling the weird response of these perverted creatures of lust. She knew she was defenseless. But Louise ... wouldn't she top Mike? She did appear to have a strange, almost domineering power over him.
Mike made no move to come toward May. He stared at her; breathing heavily, every muscle in his powerful body being brought into athletic play. He held up the silky soft panty, rubbed it across his broad chest. Then the panty went lower and....
... a glazed expression came over the young athlete. He nearly stumbled a few times, but his strong legs kept him firm on the floor. He was completely exposed in bronzed nakedness-with both lean thighs ajar.
The silky panty kissed his turgid flesh. He made a soft smile. His handsome, almost boyish face, was screwed up with suppressed desires. Now he used both hands to rub himself with the silky panty ... rubbing himself so intimately that he began to shiver.
His rock hard body erupted into a series of spasmodic twitches. Mike kept reeling on the balls of his feet, but he remained standing-and he kept looking at May-as if-as if he got a vicarious thrill out of disporting his own body before the girl. This was his wild way of getting his equally wild thrills.
He opened his mouth, gasped deeply. Then his chest became huge in powerful expansion. He made a few thrusts. Suddenly, he emitted a gasp, following with a few choked sounds. Again and again, his loins twitched and he kept rocking back and forth. A strange expression of ecstasy came over his face. There was one more sharp gasp and then the tremors began to subside. He slowly turned tranquil and calm again.
"Whew!" he gasped, almost falling against the wall in order to maintain his balance.
May wanted to sob out. She did not know whether to cry, to laugh, to get sick ... very sick. To be exposed to such unnatural activities all within the space of just a few days, was much too much for her.
Dazed May watched as Louise Anders roused herself, sat up on bed; the soft slopes of her curvaceous back were smooth and pink in the diffused light. Now she stood up. There were crease marks on the milky thighs. She put her arm around Mike. For a moment they regarded each other, then they kissed.
When they parted, Louise Anders took the silky panties that were still clutched by her young husband. He had not even bothered to put them aside after his shameless act-and in full view of both May and Louise. Mike experienced a few shivers as Louise laughingly teased him, knowing his sensitive spots. Then she held the panties in one hand. Linking their arms together, they turned and walked out of May's room, their flanks moving sensuously in a strange rhythm.
May was alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Ten dollars?" May Kramer was aghast as she faced Tony Lindgren, owner-manager of Willow Branch Motel. "I'm sure there must be some mistake. Wasn't my room paid for last night?"
"Of course." Tony Lindgren crossed both strong arms on his chest and settled on a high stool in the small office compartment. "But if you'll notice the sign, rooms have to be cleared and checked out by Noon of the next day. Otherwise, you're charged for an extra night. I could have rented your room out this morning, but you were fast asleep."
May Kramer felt like collapsing. It was well after two o'clock. She was aware of that. Already, bare legged, willowy creatures were car hopping, escaping the darting hands of bold guys in cars and the taunting jeers of mannish looking girls who travelled in groups or with muscular looking fellows. How could she have overslept? "B-but ... I just don't have the money." It was an awful truth. She ate breakfast that set her back two dollars because she had a ravenous appetite and ordered double portions of whole wheat pancakes and a pitcher (almost) of buttermilk. Her funds were too, too low.
"W-what do I do now?" She was getting desperate again. It appeared as if life was giving her a blow below the belt. No sooner was she out of one scrape, then she was instantly thrust into the next, and none of it was her own fault. "I-mean, the Anders' left so early."
"They checked out around 8 o'clock. Anders? Was that their name?" His sunburned face frowned. "One of these days, we ought to set up some registration system. That way, we'd at least get the license numbers of these people."
Now May Kramer could get the whole picture. Willow Branch Motel was just one of those convenient lovemaking rendezvous places. You paid your money, went into your room with your partner or partners and no questions were asked. Well, if that was how Tony Lindgren ran his business, that was up to him. May should have suspected it when the three of them came in last night and none were asked to sign. In fact, no receipts were given for the money.
"Didn't Louise Anders give you something to pay for my room?" After the experience last night, May felt confident that Louise had left a little spending money.
Tony shook his head. "Nope."
May had a feeling he was lying, but what could she do about it? There was no proof that he had taken money from Louise, on her behalf. "W-what do I do now?" She had a sinking sensation. If she had a car or any means of "escape," she would have taken her suitcase and hightailed it out of her when Tony wasn't looking. But they were in an isolated area, so to speak. Just ten miles from San Francisco-so near and yet so far. The only way to get to the big city was to go on U.S. 101-but you needed a car for that. You couldn't walk it. In fact, you couldn't walk very far no matter how you tried it.
May knew she was trapped.
The way Tony looked her over, made her feel self-conscious. If he had any ideas....
"'Course I could call the state troopers."
"Could you?" she smiled faintly, drawing both legs close so that the silk print dress clung tight to her upper thighs and called attention to the shadowy indentation below. She was already learning "vamp" tricks. "Why don't you? They would be interested in knowing about a motel that doesn't require its guests to register. Also they'd like to know about naked girls and boys who run on your lawn in the middle of the night."
Tony's features stiffened. His dark eyelashes swept over her again. Then he was all smiles again. "No need to do something hasty. I said I 'could' call the troopers, but I wouldn't do that to such a nice girl like yourself. Still, ten dollars is ten dollars."
They were interrupted when the wall phone rang. He answered it. He scowled. "What, again? Now look, we're short of car hop girls as it is. You promised to be here today. You know, a big crowd is heading for Disneyland, coming clear down from Portland, Oregon, and they're travelling through here. A convention, that's right. I need all the help I can get." A pause and Tony sputtered, "Then forget it! You're fired!" He slammed down the receiver and looked angry.
"What's the matter?" asked May, not really concerned but endeavoring to act interested. If she could get on Tony's good side....
"Damn those girls. You'd think they'd show some appreciation for a steady job as car hopping. But no, they meet the first guy and run off with him. She's been sleeping with a dozen men since she started here and keeps promising to work steady but when she finds another rich John, she just gets up and walks away. And I'm short of help, too."
May Kramer glanced through the open door. Outside, in a semi-circle clearing, there were about a dozen cars parked. The doors had small stands upon which was affixed a tray. Leggy blondes and brunettes, wearing wispy play shorts and blouses, with embroidered bolero jackets and red velvet pill box caps, were busy carrying orders from a kitchen to the various cars.
"Does it require much experience to be a car hop?" she asked, speaking quickly for fear she would lose her courage.
"Only experience in talking nice to fresh customers, that's all" Then "Say-are you...?"
"I ... I don't know. I mean, I have to pay the money that I owe you-and I could use a little more." This was crazy. How could she actually go out in public, dressed only in those hip hugging red shorts that were more like ballet briefs, and form fitting blouse, actually letting herself in for a lot of feeling up!
He softened. "You don't have to do it, if you don't want to." He recognized her innocence and felt guilty about taking advantage of it "You can forget the ten dollars. It's little enough."
"But I'm desperate," she confessed. "I haven't got enough money to last me another day. Wouldn't you give me a chance?" Now she was actually pleading with him!
"Sure, sure," he said quickly. "If you want to work as a car hop, I can sure use you. I've got a better idea. You can live here-just move your things over to that little cabin in back of those rose bushes. I use it to store things in, but it's got a nice, comfortable bed and a bathroom-kind of rickety, but it's for free. Meals are on the house. Pay is just $10 a day and you keep all the tips. I don't share in them, like most car hopping joints do."
It sounded reasonable. "But I hardly know anything about waiting on tables-even this type of waiting."
"Nothing to it." He pushed past her, rushed to the door. "Oh Jo-Jo-come here a minute, will you?"
Jo was a leggy brunette, with hair the color of a burnished walnut. Tall, she had high rising breasts that pushed against the white blouse. Her smile brightened her whole face, showing even white teeth. "You call me, Tony?" Jo stared at May, looking at her keenly, as if wanting to see what was beneath her silk print dress.
Something warm and intimate passed between them.
"Yeah, yeah-uh, Jo Laurence, this is ... uh ... he laughed easily. "You know, I never did get your name."
"I'm May Kramer."
"Now that the introductions are made," Tony said quickly, "let's get down to business. Jo, we're short of help and May is short of money. That's a nice situation to be in, isn't it?"
"Depends upon which side of the fence you're on." Jo Laurance spoke in sultry tones, her eyes never leaving May Kramer. Jo's legs were tawny, curvaceous, elegantly slim. Her kneecaps were as soft as marshmallows. The skin tight shorts she wore, rode up high on her slender thighs. The bolero jacket was too short (deliberately so) and her breasts jogged up and down, pushing the opening apart. While her smooth flowing burnished brown hair was distinctly feminine, falling in waves around her soft shoulders, there was something more aggressive about her.
She could have easily passed for a post-adolescent boy, had it not been for her rounded breasts.
"Well, May wants a job as car hop here-so, would you show her where the uniforms are and give her a station?"
"Glad to."
May followed Jo Laurence, her eyes noticing the firm and vigorous movements of her boyish buttocks, tight beneath the red shorts. "Oh, I forgot something." They were already midway down the path leading to a small bungalow in which were kept uniforms and other supplies. It also served as a dressing room for the girls.
"What did you forget?"
"My suitcase." It had everything she owned-which was little enough. "I want to bring it to the cabin over there." She nodded in the direction. "Tony said I'll be staying there; at least, until I can get ahead of myself."
"Don't bother," Jo Laurence said firmly. She yelled out, "Tony-will you bring May's suitcase to the cabin?" It was a husky command like question.
Tony appeared in the doorway of the office. "Sure ... sure...." he yelled back. "I'll take care of it. Hurry up, will you?"
Cars were honking and girls were scurrying to and fro, bearing trays of foods as well as little green slips on which were scribbled orders. Occasionally, a girl could be seen stuffing a slip of paper in her blouse. Undoubtedly, this contained telephone numbers of drivers who wanted a little "after hours" service.
Jo Laurence pushed back her swirling brunette hair; she straightened her sleeveless bolero jacket and deliberately pushed her breasts against her blouse. "New in San Francisco?" She was leading the way to a small bungalow.
"No ... I mean, I've never been to San Francisco. In fact, I was on my way there from home, but I ran short of cash."
Jo pulled open a wooden door. It creaked loudly. From within, two shadowy figures pulled apart. They had been startled by the sudden intrusion. Usually, costumes were put on early in the morning and hardly anyone came in here.
There were two girls; one was masculine looking, with short cut hair, thick arms, broad shoulders and a broad chest that might have had breasts, had she been just a bit more feminine. The other girl was completely feminine, with kewpie doll lips, a peaches and cream heart-shaped face, golden blonde hair and softly rounded hips. Her blouse was unbuttoned and the slopes of the rounded breasts were bare.
"I ... I'm sorry." Joe Laurence felt embarrassed. "Should I have knocked?"
The feminine girl buttoned her blouse. "Well, you should have made some noise or something." Her voice was high-pitched, like a little girl.
The masculine one growled. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They left-one completely feminine, the other one as masculine as possible.
May Kramer looked more embarrassed than the two girls should have been. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything."
Jo Laurence closed the creaky door. "Girls will be boys, or vice-versa, out here on the Coast."
The bungalow was a wooden, frame shack arrangement. It was littered with crates, boxes, cartons. One section was devoted to a huge pole from which was hung more than three dozen costumes-each and every one identical. These were the car hop uniforms and they looked so skimpy, that May felt hesitant. There were qualms about what she was getting into. Maybe she should have accepted Tony Lindgren's suggestion that they forget the bill? But she needed the money. Just a week's work with tips and she could go to San Francisco in style and get a head start on herself. She just had to go through with it.
"How about this uniform?" Jo Laurence stood on her tiptoes to reach for a cap atop a shelf. She was wearing leather thonged skyscraper heeled shoes. As she stretched higher, the muscles of her upper thighs became taut and sleek. Her rounded bottom pressed tight and the mysterious shadow became nakedly obvious. Her legs were naked, as were those of the other girls.
"It looks so small?" she gasped as Jo faced her again, holding out the wine red blouse, shorts and bolero jacket. "Is that all there is to it?"
Jo laughed; it was a deep sound, almost masculine. Yet there was a gentleness about her that gave May Kramer a feeling of contentment. There was no fear. "Well, I'll admit, May, that they are sort of brief, but you have a lovely figure so what's to be so self-conscious about?"
May let her hands run over the soft fabrics. They seemed to be so , ... bare. "It's not that. I've never gone in public in such wispy shorts."
Jo shrugged her shoulders, sending her pointed breasts into a little dance. "Nothing to be shy about. Just pretend you're on the beach. Besides, a car hop girl has to wear skimpy things. Lots of drivers keep coming back here just so they can ogle a girl or get a quick feel."
It embarrassed May to hear such flippant, almost boyish talk. "I don't think I'd like any man to feel me when I'm waiting on him."
A loud honking was followed by a series of shotgun-type blasts. "Some souped up character in a hot rod wants to get his rocks off," she nodded in the general direction. "He comes here every day, keeps ordering hamburgers and strawberry malteds until he would turn green if he ever ate them. But each time he orders, he whispers so I have to bend over-he squeezes me-right here." She patted her bosom. There was nothing surprising about it all. She accepted it. "Sometimes, I even 'forget' to button my blouse, if you know what I mean."
"Then what happens?" She was getting very nervous. Jo Laurence winked. "He gets a real close up feel."
"You let him do that to you?"
Again, the loud staccato type sounds rent the air; it sounded as if the whacky driver was gunning his motor, revving it up for some real action. Jo Laurence's high heeled shoes made a rat-tat-tat sound as she hurried to the wooden door. "Sure-that's how I get a five buck tip in five easy lessons! See you later-" Then, with her bottom jouncing in a rounded arc, she was making her way through the small wooded grove, hurrying to answer the call of some weirdie who liked to touch and stroke and no more.
But, as Jo Laurence reasoned, if he paid for this diversion, why argue? There were lots harder ways to make money!
She decided to hurry up. This was, apparently, a busy time of day and she wanted to express her gratitude to Tony Lindgren for letting her take the job, without an ounce of experience.
Quickly, she slipped out of her silk print dress. The sight of her panty covered figure in a small mirror, sent a tremor through her loins. Her breasts were heavy, swollen with strange desire; after what she went through last night, it was any wonder that she even had feelings left.
Cupping her breasts, she raised them high, stroked the delicate softness beneath, then let them drop down again. They bounced, came to a sloping halt. The tips were conical and moist.
She decided to wear her panties. She could have sworn that Jo Laurence was naked underneath her briefs-laughingly called shorts. How could any girl go out like that? And the way the men put their hands on girls' upper thighs ... they could reach beneath and if a girl was flesh naked-May Kramer decided not to think of such possibilities. She would not let any man take such liberties with her. She reached for her costume, slipped her arms through the sleeveless blouse. It was a pale rose color, buttoning down in front. The buttonholes were unusually large and she knew there would be trouble in keeping herself decently covered.
In a sudden flash of common sense, she knew that the extra-large buttonholes were deliberately made that way! Of all the nerve....
There was no time to be modest. Already, there were yells for "Service, service" and a few "Bring on the girls." This set her heart pounding. She began wondering if she did the right thing....
Quickly, the blouse covered her breasts. In fact, it was so tight, that from a distance it looked as if she were a rose bathed breasty creature. The blouse was like an envelope, tight and enclasping.
She stepped into the shorts. Those rode so high around her crotch, she winced when she felt the bite, as she walked around. Her hips joggled. She ran her hands up and down her upper thighs, then around in rear. It was a mild surprise for her to feel that where her thighs came to a delicious soft crease to form her buttock, she was naked! The shorts were so high, she might as well be wearing a glorified G-string! She felt grateful for the protection of her panties. They were better than nothing.
May then slipped into the bolero jacket, trying to draw it tight over her ballooning breasts. It was no use. She practiced a few walks. In her own high heeled shoes-left by the fleeing Louise Anders together with a box of real silk stockings-she saw the way her hips joggled with each walk. The high heels forced her to walk in a forward gait, her breasts hanging like oversize melons from a bough, moving heavily.
"I should have worn a bra," she glanced at herself in the discolored mirror. It was too late to think of that now. The girl who stared back at her was not a fresh-from-the-farm innocent. With her red lipstick, the dab of rouge on her upper cheeks, the faint scent of cheap toilet water (which flattered May Kramer, even though it was cheap five and dime stuff), she was a long legged, full-breasted car hop.
She smiled, winked at herself, the way Jo Laurence had done it. Then she turned to the door and said aloud, "May Kramer ... let's start car hopping."
CHAPTER NINE
May Kramer did not know what she had walked into. Literally speaking! At first, she felt so shy about walking across the lawn, then stepping into the half-circular clearing surrounded with cars. She heard the loud catcalls, the whistles, some very pointed remarks and invitations.
May bit back a sudden flood of tears. She might as well be naked on stage, for the brief protection afforded by the skimpy costume she wore. What was happening to her? Was she stepping down so low as to appear in public in skin tight clothes?
"Over here," yelled a lusty voice. It came from a beat up coupe. The driver wore a porkpie hat set jauntily on the crown of his head. He kept slamming his fist against the door. "Hey, cutie-bounce right over. I'm hungry and I want to eat-what've you got that I can eat?" This was followed by loud laughs from the back of his coupe.
Quickly, May Kramer went over to him. She stood too close and made the mistake of turning her back to the rear of the car. A calloused hand reached out, gripped her by the slope of one buttock and squeezed painfully tight.
May screamed. Some of the other girls glanced her way; Jo Laurence was in the midst of bending over, to hear one of her hard-of-hearing customers and also give him a chance to get an eyeful of her milky globes, when she heard the yell. She looked up. A frown crossed her face. She was annoyed.
Forgetting her own customer, she stalked over to this car and snapped, "Look, buddy, if you want to do something with those hands, try it on yourself!"
The culprit flushed darkly and tried to hide himself among his buddies in the crowded back seat. "Can'tcha take a joke?" he snickered.
"Give the girl your order! She's busy!"
When May Kramer was left alone, she was so nervous, she kept dropping her stubby pencil. Each time she bent over, she was aware of the way her rounded bottom leaped into near-naked view. She heard a few giggles and a hoarse voice saying, "She's got pink panties-I saw 'em. Real pink-pinker'n her bottom."
"I'll pink and black and blue your bottom," she snapped back. She was already learning how to be brash and rude. "You said you want four malted milks. Okay-I'll bring them right to you." She scratched the orders on a note pad and hurried to the cook house.
All foods were prepared at this small cook house in which three short order cooks worked tirelessly. Everything was actually pre-packaged and pre-cut. Franks, French fries, hamburgers, delicatessens, were all ready made, precooked. Just a two-minute "heat up" on the grill, and they were ready to be served, eaten, and cause indigestion!
Not like home cooking, thought May Kramer, as she told the soda fountain boy to prepare her four malteds-black and whites. The boy was a college kid with a ready smile and a mischievous grin that everyone called cute. He was the only one who did not flirt with her.
Either too young, or too experienced, thought May ruefully. I wish someone would like me for more reasons than my breasts!
Taking the cardbard tray with slots into which were fitted the malted milk containers, she returned to the beat up car. "Here you are," she managed a wry smile. "That will be one dollar and thirty-five cents." She placed the cardboard tray in a receptacle attached to the car door. She hoped she could get two dollars and thereby net a sixty-five cent tip. It wasn't much but about ten or twenty of them during the day would help her out in her sad state of affairs.
The driver shoved something toward her. She clutched it in her hand and not until she wiggled her bottom in a natural walk as she went to the cash register in the cook house, did she open her palm. She felt her anger rising. Exactly one dollar and thirty-five cents.
A burst of loud laughter came from the car. "Cheated, eh?" The voices were abusive. Moments later, the empty malted milk containers were hurled through the air, narrowly missing May Kramer; the car zoomed around and vanished on the Freeway.
"Don't feel too badly, honey." This was another car hop, a strawberry redhead with the most whitest skin imaginable. Short, plump, it did her good-her hips bunched out in twin pillows. Her breasts were like thick tubes, swinging low and sensuous. This girl wore her bolero jacket wide apart and deliberately liked the way her blouse was unbuttoned. She had a back lace bra; the half cups were really cut low and were just begging to be removed!
"Are they all so rude?" May was on the verge of tears.
"They sure are, honey." She nodded toward some new arrivals. "But if they give the tips, why feel badly?"
"They put their hands on my hips," she lamented, wanting to drop everything and just get away from this wretched place!"
The strawberry redhead laughed, let her silky soft hair shake in the breeze. "That's worth a half buck, dearie. When they see my red hair and ask if it's natural-well-"
May drew back. "You mean...."
There was less time for talking. Already, anxious honks demanded fast service. This time. May Kramer played it cool. She watched the way some of the other girls set an exaggerated bounce to their walk, and laughed easily. She tried to imitate them, with some favorable results.
Her next customer was a muscle boy in a white turtle neck sweater, tight around his strong chest, emphasizing the smooth curve of his biceps. He was not in the driver's seat-but in back. The driver was an older man with white hair and a flabby face. Even his hands were flabby.
"What'll you have, handsome?" May tried to talk smart-alecky.
The older man reared back in a pseudo-shocked manner. "Goodness me, does it show?" His hand fluttered to his face and he clucked his tongue.
From behind, the masculine voice of the young muscle boy declared, "The cutie meant me, so come down from those pink clouds." He flashed a disarming smile.
"What a relief," the effeminate driver sighed. Glancing in his rear view mirror, he said, "Order whatever you want, Bobby. You know I'm not stingy."
Bobby snapped, "Better not be-or I go back down to North Beach and flag my muscles at someone else." His order consisted of a triple-decker hamburger, a double milk shake and a hunk of apple pie. "Got to keep up my strength, you know."
May took down the order, then asked the effeminate man in front, "What'll you have, sir?"
"Sir? Oh-you mean me? Goodness gracious. I'll just have an order of toast and black coffee. At my age and condition, it's not my strength I'm worried about-it's my figure!"
This was too weird for comment so May smiled indulgently and moments later, brought back the order. She gave the bill to the driver who glanced at it, then pushed three dollar bills into her hand. "Keep the change, darling."
The good looking muscle boy, his hair a thick black brush cut, was busy chomping away with gusto. He let his eyes travel up and down May Kramer, but said nothing. He was already spoken for and he was wise enough to know which side his bread was buttered on.
A dollar tip. May's feelings of remorse were washed away. She was feeling better. Things were brightening up.
May learned quickly throughout the day-her first day was going to set the foundation for the rest of the days she would work at this car hop job.
She learned that a man alone was generally quiet; for example, there had been that dapper dressed man, in his late 30's. He had a pin stripe suit, a diamond stickpin in a ruby red tie, and a boiled white shirt. He just wanted a chicken salad sandwich and a coke. May glanced at his license plate. Nevada.
While she waited for the money to be paid, she pretended not to watch the way he stared at the soft shadow between her breasts. He fingered a well-stacked billfold. There was a slight hesitation. "Working here late?" he asked.
May thought carefully. Better not be abrupt. Why get cheated out of a tip? "Until around ten. Then I go home."
"Live far from here?" He was fingering a five dollar bill. He spoke in a low, almost weasle-like tone.
She was unfamiliar with this area so how could she give a fake address. "Not too far-just about ten miles-in San Francisco."
"That so? I'm stopping there for a week. I'm at the Hotel Wilkins. Know where it is?"
She did not know where anything was. "I ... I don't think so...." she faltered.
"Right on the corner of Folsom and Sixth-opposite that new development of garden apartments."
"Of course-how stupid of me. In fact, I live in that development. I just moved there from L.A. That's why I'm so stupid about knowing San Francisco." She prayed he would not ask her about L.A.
He smiled easily, letting his eyes travel down to her naked thighs, locked together, pinkishly soft. "I'll bet you're in Building 2. The one on the corner."
"You win your bet-right on the ground floor."
"Do you live alone?"
She nodded. "I get home around 11 o'clock and usually loaf until midnight. Then I go to sleep."
There was a slight pause. He took out a matchbook folder and scribbled down some words. He handed the folder to her-in which was stuck a five dollar bill. "My name's on the folder. Give me a call-or shall I call on you?"
She took the folder. The crisp crinkle of the money felt good as she held it tightly. "I don't have a phone as yet. But you're welcome to stop around-let's make it soon, okay?"
He laughed amiably. "Real soon, baby. Oh, what's your name?"
"May."
"Just May?"
Why not tell some truth? "May Kramer. It's on my doorbell." With a deliberate saucy wiggle of her hips, she let her thighs move sensuously as she walked off and went to the cashier's booth in the cook house.
She was walking on clouds. She had made a four dollar tip just by flirting with a man. What harm was there in that? If she could keep it up, there would be more tips. Of course, not all would be easily duped, but if she just teased them, it would be profitable enough.
And May Kramer wasn't greedy.
All she wanted was to net enough in tips and the straight ten dollar daily wage so she could get ahead of herself, buy a better wardrobe, and make it to San Francisco-from there, maybe Los Angeles or anywhere else. Once she had money, the world was in her hip pocket.
The cashier, a frowsy, overly rouged woman who had seen better daysr handed May her change. "They like you, eh?"
"I guess so."
"A new girl always gets 'em. Take it from me, honey, make hay while the sun shines. We got lots of repeat customers here and if they get tired of you, they don't even let you serve them. So take 'em for what you can get out of 'em while the getting is good. I've been around these places long enough so I know what I'm talking about."
May liked the older woman for at least being honest about making money. "I'm not going to let them go too far," she declared.
"Suit yourself, honey. Lots of the girls make dates with the customers who pick them up after closing time, around ten o'clock. That's the real way of making money. I could tell you lots of stories. Some of the richest broads on Nob Hill made it tins way. Even those dames on the screen-the best talent they had was knowing how to act excited when being pawed by a producer. Once you strike it, the sky's the limit. You got a cute pair of boobies-and the way you wiggle your hips," she laughed in a cackling echo, "you don't have to worry none about competition."
She bit her lower lip as she unzipped a small side pocket of her bolero jacket. All the girls put their tip money in this pocket and exchanged small bills and loose change for larger bills as the day wore on. "I'm not going to get ahead that way."
"You want to get in the movies?"
"No. I just want to be able to live decent and right"
The rouged Woman was surprised. "How do you like that? We finally got someone decent around here. All those other broads want to be screen heroines-they haven't even got sense enough to play act with the customers, let alone know how to act in front of a camera. Well, maybe a lady will do this place a lot of good."
There was little time left for further talk. It was this way for the rest of the afternoon. Only a half hour for something to eat, and then she was back on her feet.
A car hop.
She sure did hop.
By the time it was close to ten o'clock and the Willow Branch Motel was ready to call it a night, she ached all over. May never before felt so tired-and so happy! Her day's take had been a grand total of twenty-three dollars. Add that to the ten dollar pay offered by Tony Lindgren and she was rich-real rich!
In the bungalow used for a dressing room, all the girls chatted excitedly about everything that happened during the day. They were friendly to May Kramer but she, being new, was a bit shy. She could feel her ears burning as one girl giggled to the other.
"He took out pictures of himself with a few girls. Talk about topless bathing suits-they didn't excite me.
But he wasn't even wearing any bathing suit at all!" Then she proceeded to half-whisper about the "cute guy" and how he was so big and all; this conversation ended in loud laughter.
How could they be so bold and flagrant about suck intimate matters? May thought, as she slipped out of her costume, feeling extremely self-conscious at the way some of the half-naked girls stared at her breasts. Even when May slithered out of her panties, for a moment, the talking came to a stop. A few girls were staring wide-eyed at the soft curve of her hips, the way the shadowy creases played across her thighs. Two girls whispered to each other, nodding toward May.
"Are those for real?" asked the strawberry redhead May Kramer had spoken to earlier that day. Boldly, the redhead reached out and stroked May's elastic bouncy breasts.
May felt a tremor. Desire flushed her deep red. Her breasts rose to the occasion; the tips already leaped into elongated life. She was conscious of a sweeping sensation at the bottom of her belly and acutely aware of her nakedness. She drew together both thighs, framing her triangular grove of Venus as a horny barrier. "Y-yes, they're real." Hotly ashamed, she stepped into another pair of silky panties, relieved when they offered some covering. The silk kissed her upper thighs, came to an elastic spring against her waist. "I don't wear falsies."
A few other girls had stepped closer. The talking resumed. But all eyes were on this dark-haired, round-breasted, sharp-tipped girl who had a natural shyness about her in contrast to the smart alecky manner of the more experience car hops.
One girl looked at May's breast while the feverish girl sought to slip into her silk print dress in a hurry. The girl sighed, pointed to her own mounds, half-concealed in low cut black lace bra. "I wish I could go without a bra-but my breasts aren't so big or uptilted as yours and just have to do something!"
May was nervous. She lifted her dress high up above her head. The action caused her twin mounds to ride u high and outward. Moments before the silk print dress was lowered, as her arms were stretched up high, May Kramer felt the fingertips of a few of the girls.
She did not know whether to be angry or flattered. For the moment, she was nervous. "P-please ... I'm so tired. She breathed a sigh of relief as the silky swirl of the print dress settled around her torso.
One girl, still in costume, palmed her blouse covered breasts. "It takes mine a long time to 'wake up,' if yo know what I mean. Goodness, yours are sensitive, aren' they?"
May flushed hotly, knowing the others were listening even though they pretended to be absorbed with their ow costume changes and snatches of talk. "I'm late-I have to go out...." She did not even bother to put on a pair a silk stockings-those left by Louise Anders. She just put her feet into her patent leather pumps and made a hasty exit, without looking back. As soon as the door was closed, she could hear the loud snickers, a few pointed remarks and even a bold comment: "The guy who can sleep in those white pillows is real lucky!" And also: "I wouldn't mind chewing those candy drops myself. I'd go wild over them."
As May Kramer fled to the comparative safety of her room, she felt the anxiety and tensions rising to the surface. She might not have minded their intimate explorations of her body. She should have expected it. After all, a group of girls together in various stages of undress would only naturally be curious to see one another. She knew that men were alike. In fact, sex play between showering or otherwise nude men was more common because of the aggressive nature of the male sex. She had heard about summer camps, private clubs, locker rooms. It should not have astonished her.
But May was more worried about her reactions. She had felt thrilled at the sight of flashing buttocks and the soft bounce of naked breasts. She had had to fight back her urges to examine pink tipped mounds. She would have loved to kiss them, to let her tongue make a moist trail down the shadowy cleavage dividing the twin peaks of sheer soft glory.
Was she becoming a confirmed lesbian?
She admitted to herself that the sight of a man was only partially stimulating. But then, nudity is always exciting. It's normal to be thrilled at the sight of a naked person of any sex. If that weren't true then why would anyone buy those cheesecake magazines or nudist publications? But how the thrill was consummated made all the difference in the world!
Now she was alone in the little storage cabin that had been made over to accommodate her until she was financially able to rent an apartment in San Francisco. Now there was a bit of irony! She was just a few miles from this big city and no matter how she tried, she just couldn't make it!
As May Kramer stretched out on the surprisingly comfortable bed, stared around at the various crates and overturned boxes, she cradled her head in her arms and tried to relax. It had been a hard day: her first day of work as a girl car hop. But it was a profitable one and she would hold on to the job for about a month and then be able to pay her way to Frisco, as she heard them call this big city.
The memory of Louise and Mike Anders came back to her as she closed her eyes. Louise-lovely, soft feminine, with a body that could drive anyone wild. She had loved May-and May had loved Louise, too. But how could a wife deliberately involve her in such a weird situation?
May understood. Louise had purposely planned the affair. She must have had it in mind when she picked May up on the road. Louise Anders selected a motel so that she could involve the three of them in the act of debauchery and then make a hasty exit the next morning, leaving nothing behind but a box of silk stockings as a "gift."
Some people get their kicks in the most bizarre ways!
Louise must have gotten a wild thrill out of loving May, acting a real lesbian, knowing that her husband, Mike, was looking through the keyhole. And Mike got his charge out of it, too-the way he ... kissed Louise-where lesbians loved to be kissed! And Mike got a kick out of it, too.
The way he peeled down Louise's white panties, then the way he loved her all over-and finally, standing up and-using those panties on himself while looking squarely at May-it was just too much.
An exhibitionist.
May had heard that lots of those muscle men and weightlifters thrilled at displaying their physiques, just as bathing beauties obtain a vicarious thrill out of exposing themselves. Mike Anders was probably that type.
May would not have minded it too much if only she had been prepared for it. Everything had happened so swiftly, she was still out of breath.
Stretching lazily, she kicked off her shoes, then got out of her dress and slipped out of her panties. It felt good to stretch out nakedly in bed. She fell asleep, hugging the pillow as though it were another girl.
CHAPTER TEN
May Kramer learned quickly. She knew that there were some steady customers at the drive-in dining section of the Willow Branch Motel liked to have her lean against the car door, with her breasts bunched together like two soft marshmallows. For these customers, May would smile, linger a while, even cross one sleek, well shaped leg over the other, so that the smooth flesh of her thighs would dazzle in sensuous excitement.
It was a pose the customers loved-and would give her generous tips.
One afternoon, a long station wagon drove in. A few impatient honks brought May with her notepad and pencil. She recognized the driver at once. He was a well known recording star who had made it as a dramatic actor on film and television.
"Hi, cutie," he flashed a disarming smile. In his plaid sports jacket, ascot tie knotted expertly at the throat,, immaculate shirt and knife crease flannel trousers, he looked every part the matinee idol. His blond hair was combed up high in a pompadour. "Haven't seen you around before."
"I've been here for a month," said May, her heart thumping at the sight of a film hero.
"I've been on location down in Acapulco," the film star looked May up and down. He nodded toward the rear of the station wagon. "These are my two new leading ladies. They're nice to me. so I'm nice to them."
May noticed them for the first time. They were like two lost little girls, frightened and timid and huddled close to each other as if to protect themselves from some unseen danger. Both were pretty brunettes, wearing scoop neckline sweaters, tight fitting skirts and silk stockings. Skyscraper heeled shoes seemed too mature for them.
"May I take your order, please?" asked May in a very polite voice. Other cars were coming and going and she had learned not to spend too much time with individual customers. Just one month ... and she had learned as much as some girls do in a year. Besides, she was going to quit this job-in just a few more days. Her plans were set.
"A double decker chicken salad sandwich and ice cream float-for three."
"What flavor ice cream, please?"
He smiled. "Any flavor as sweet as you are!"
The two girls laughed nervously, looking shyly at May Kramer who, for her abbreviated costume hiked up so high around her hips that the soft underslope of her buttocks were almost naked with rhythm and movement.
May Kramer felt a flush rise to her cheeks. The way the girls looked at her made her all the more aware of her strange arousal in the presence of members of her own sex. "I'll only be a minute."
May had made just two steps when suddenly, something gripped her tight. She was about to make a short yelp, when she whirled. She was surprised to discover that the recording star had extended both hands through the open window of his station wagon, seized her shorts and yanked her back to him. May sputtered, almost dropping her note pad and pencil. Her breast shook back and forth.
"Let go of me!" she complained, not knowing whether to laugh it off or slap his face! His hands were warm on her upper thighs and the fingers had already tweaked the satin smooth flesh of her buttocks. "I said-let go!"
He was laughing happily; a strange glint in his eye. But he did not let go. Instead, he pulled her real close. "If I let go, you'll run away!"
"You'll tear my uniform!" She kept struggling, fearful that if he really yanked, her shorts would come ripping off. All she wore beneath was a satin silky thing that was so tiny, it made her feel embarrassed to stare at her nude reflection in the mirror. It barely covered her and was cut so low, the delicious bulge of her lower tummy almost obscured it.
"I'll buy you another uniform-a dozen of them!" He pulled harder and May was literally dragged to the car door.
Before she could squirm free, she knew he had run his palms up and down the warm softness of her inside thighs, sending a titillating shiver into her loins. She felt the turgid demands leap into heated yearning. "Stop-stop!" She nearly stumbled on the gravel, but did manage to get free. Her heart thumped wildly.
"Okay, okay," he kept on laughing and looking back at the two timid girls in the rear of the station wagon as if to gain approval and attention from them. "Play hard to get I could put in a few words of complaint to Tony Lindgren."
A month ago, May would have been frightened of the threat of losing her job. Now, she did not care. Tony had treated her nicely enough, giving her the little bungalow and not even making a play for her. But she still had her apprehensions. "I'll fill your order," she said abruptly, hurrying to the kitchen.
After just a few minutes of waiting, the sandwiches and ice cream floats were ready; she inserted them in the pre-cut trays which would be attached to the car door on the fixture already placed there.
Returning to the spot where the station wagon had parked, she discovered it was gone. She stared around her. What kind of gag was that?
Another leggy brunette with a bounce to her hips that brought wolf calls, passed by with her tray. "Oh, May-that station wagon moved down to the other end." She nodded in the direction of a small wooded grove. Originally, it had served as a secluded picnic area but it was no longer being used as such. Occasionally, May and a few of the other girls would relax in a swinging hammock when business was slack. It was fresh, invigorating and very private.
"What did he do that for?" she wondered.
The leggy brunette shrugged her shoulders, while her smallish breasts bobbed up and down. She never wore a bra, but deliberately selected tight fitting blouses so that the hard strawberries were outlined in bold etching. The girl was an easy mark and was known for being willing to do anything go anywhere-for a price! Maybe, May Kramer had frequently reasoned, that was the best way to be. No feelings of guilt, no decency no pride. But NO!
She was NOT going to stoop down that low! Never-never-never....
She was going to maintain her self-respect and dignity. She was not going to let any man or any of the customers who came to the drive-in take such flagrant liberties with her.
"Are there other cars in the picnic area?" she asked the brunette.
The leggy thing shook her head, smiled faintly. "Romantic isn't it?" Then she was off, bearing her tray, to an anxious customer who had the top down on his convertible. This one was a barrel-chested lumberjack type; but his white-walled convertible was expensive. And he paid well for other things, too.
May Kramer brushed away any apprehensions she might have had and made her way on a twisting flagstone path to the picnic area. It was set well back among the trees; birds twittered, the sun filtered through the tall redwoods and there was a peaceful fragrance of floral bushes and dew kissed grass. A soft breeze fanned the topmost branches of the trees.
"Here we are!"
May whirled. She had not even seen the station wagon where it had squeezed in between some extremely tangled underbrush and hedges. It had the doors open. The recording star had come out.
"I'm starved ... everything looks good enough to eat!" He had discarded his jacket, ascot tie and his shirt was open. The broad planes of his young chest were visible.
May brought over the tray, affixed it to the open car door. "That will be three dollars and forty cents." She saw that the two girls were still in the back seat, closer together than before, and looking terrified.
"Sit down and join us." He was not asking her. He was commanding her.
"I ... I'm sorry, but there are other cars waiting." She felt terribly alone. Just a glance out of the corner of her eyes warned her that she was alone. Now, why should she be so frightened? This young man was a headline recording star and a bright light in filmdom. Surely he would not take advantage of her. After all, he had his reputation at stake.
"Let them wait." He unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt and in a minute, dropped it down on the floor. The hazy sunlight caught up the hard cut of his thick biceps and gleaming bronzed chest.
"B-but, Mr. Lindgren has strict rules about my spending too much time with each customer." She still clutched the bill in her hand and wanted to get the money and leave.
"I'll make it worth your while." He pointed to the shirt that was spread on the ground. "Go ahead ... sit down."
"I ... I...." May felt a quiver of fright. She glanced at the two girls but they were still huddled in the corner of the rear seat of the station wagon; they looked so timid and frightened, it was almost pitiful.
The recording star looked angry. His chest deepened. One strong arm seized May by the wrist and twisted so viciously, she yelped, and then felt herself being flung bodily down on the shirt. The hard ground smacked her hips.
"Hey," she yelled. "Don't you dare touch me!" She tried to maintain some dignity, but sprawled like that, with her legs apart with her bolero jacket drawn so wide that her twin peaks were taut in etched relief on the rose colored blouse.
"Wow," he exclaimed boyishly, his hands fumbling with his belt, "you're a real firecracker, aren't you?" His belt unloosened. He slipped it out of the loops of his knife creased trousers.
"I ... you...." Everything was spinning. The very nerve! He had hurled her bodily down on the ground. "I'll report you!" she yelled loudly. Anxiously she looked around to realize that she was isolated. The motel never seemed so far away. "I'm getting back to my station." She started to get on her hands and knees, making the mistake of letting her bottom dart into target view.
"I want you to stay here!" Suddenly, the air was rent with a strange hissing sound. It was followed by a sharp crack.
A sting slashed across May's buttocks. She screamed! A flash of fire swept through her bottom. She turned upward again and with a horror, discovered that the recording star had whipped off his thick leather belt and was flogging her! His trousers had slipped down around his lower hips. He wore a bikini type of bathing suit, cut so low that the hard flat stomach nearly gave way to his male powers. The outer reaches of the forest of Adam could be seen in lewd display.
"What are you doing?" May felt tears coming to her eyes. Now she squatted. The ground slammed at her buttocks. The livid welt raised by the sting of the whip was like a red hot fire. "You-get away from me!"
He was smiling cruelly. Every muscle of his upper body was brought into play. "When I give an order, it's to be obeyed." He turned his boyishly handsome face toward the hovering girls in the car. "Right, girls?"
No answer.
The black snake like whip that was his belt, suddenly twisted and cracked in mid-air. "Right?" he demanded in more lusty tones.
The two girls twisted arms around each other; terror crossed their faces. "Y-yes," they half sobbed. "Y-yes!"
That satisfied him. "See? We're one big happy family." He let his eye rove over the sprawling car hop girl. "What's your name?"
She did not answer readily. She was so frightened by this sudden turn of events, her words refused to form in response to her thoughts. She just wanted to get away from this crazy recording star.
The black leather belt, gleaming in the shady light, swung through the air.
May turned face downward to avert a slashing blow. The tip caught her on the side of her hip. It bit into the taut flesh. A stab of fear tore into her senses. "Get away from me!" she shrieked. If only someone would come. Anyone!
He was laughing softly. "Go ahead and scream your head off. They can't hear you. The more you scream, the more you get yourself whacked with the belt." He snarled. "Maybe I ought to use this nice buckle!"
He wouldn't dare! May Kramer did not know what to believe any more. "I ... I have to get back-" she sobbed.
"I told you," he spat through gritted teeth, "that I'll pay you for any money you lose. Don't worry none about Tony Lindgren-he's a real friend from way back-I'll take care of him-just the way I'll take care of you."
May did not like the way he said that.
"I'm waiting." He stood with both hands on his hips. Already, the trousers were slithering down his strong, athletic legs. The pouch like bikini bathing suit, the color of pink flesh, showed that the recording star was endowed with manly powers, although nothing that would cause eyebrows to open wide.
"Waiting?" She felt dizzy. "For what?" she asked stupidly, still sprawled on his shirt, staring up at the intersection where his thighs joined his trunks. She was terrified!
"To know your name?" He doubled over the black leather belt. His biceps bulged. He was rock hard in muscular strength. Many of the film "pretty boys" were body enthusiasts, knowing that it exuded a strange sensuality, just as did a girl's beautiful figure. In the case of this singing star, it appeared that he was self-conscious about being a below-average man and sought to make up for it by a developed physique.
"I'm-May Kramer-" She sat up, trying to restore some semblance of dignity. Her black hair was down around her shoulders. She wondered where her little cap had been kicked. It was nowhere in sight.
"Real cute name. Real cute." He worked his trousers down around his ankles. He kicked off his loafers, then the expensive trousers were pushed free from his legs.
As he stood before her, the recording star looked at once both boyish and mature. He had a thick shock of black hair that was done up in a pompadour style over his forehead. His high cheekbones and photogenic smile gave him an angelic quality that set girlish hearts aflutter and aroused the mother instinct in many others.
His body was an athletic superiority. His broad shoulders, the thick pectoral muscles, the sinewy strength that flowed through his well developed thighs, all created an image of an All American hero.
But the flesh colored bikini tended to dim that illusion. For some peculiar reason, as if knowing that something awful would climax this incident, May was relieved. She saw that as he moved, the flesh colored bikini was not amply filled.
"What do you do for fun?" he was asking. He picked up his sandwich and chewed it noisily. He nodded to the girls, who nervously took their sandwiches and just pecked at them.
"I-work so hard-no time to have fun," she stammered, still sprawled on the shirt. She wanted to stand up, but was afraid he would strike her with the leather belt he still held in one hand.
"That's too bad. Me, I like to have a good time-much as possible." He wolfed down the sandwich, gulping it lustily. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Hardly even looking at the girls, he took the ice cream float. He held it in his hand, making no motion to drink.
"May ... may I go now?" she asked timidly. As soon as she would be out of sight, she would run into the office and report this upstart. She knew she would have him arrested. Yes, yes, that was what she would do! The very nerve! Treating her as if she were some ... slave in a harem. Her buttocks still throbbed from the slashing blow he had given her! Just who did he think he was!
"You seem to be in an awful hurry to get away," he drawled lazily, drawing satisfaction out of his power to hold her a captive without any bonds.
"My job-I'll lose it...." she stammered. What was the matter with her? She could fight back! She could pick up a rock or something and smash him with it. But all the fight was out of her.
"You're awfully stupid. How many times do I have to tell you that I'll take care of you? I want to be nice to you, but you just won't let me."
That was a bitter irony. "It isn't fair to let the other girls do my share of work," she tried to reason with him. Then she flinched as she sat down squarely. The welt did hurt!
"Sorry I had to whack you so hard," he said, moving closer. His bronzed nudity was warm and intimate.
"Maybe I had it coming to me," she laughed nervously. She would be willing to say anything to humor him and call an end to this ridiculous situation.
He knelt beside her. The black belt was still in his hand. His boyish face was flushed. His heavy breathing could be heard. His bikini became taut. The outline of his turgid power was flagrant and embarrassing. "Maybe I ought to repay you."
He was talking in riddles. The maleness of his nearness made May feel a flash of desire. But it was instinctive. She knew she would not let him become intimate. She had already become a confirmed man hater.
"P-please...." she faltered.
He laughed softly. He took her bolero jacket and almost ripped it free. "Nice and cool this way, too." He feasted on her blouse covered mounds, shaking softly.
His hand explored her thigh, pinching the flesh, then raking hold of her shorts. "Kind of skimpy, aren't they?"
"Y-yes, but Mr. Lindgren wants us to wear them."
"Feel embarrassed by them?" he asked.
"Y-yes."
"Why not take them off?"
She should have expected this. "B-but, I'm almost indecent as it is."
Then she felt his hands-somehow, he had discarded the leather belt-and both hands had gripped the hem of her shorts. She opened her mouth to scream as she felt the shorts being ripped from her torso. She wiggled, struggled, while her adversary chuckled and yanked the tattered shorts free from her body.
The skirt kissed her buttocks. Her wispy panties, almost as wide as a satin garter belt, bit into her flesh. A rush of tears came to her eyes. "P-please," she sobbed. Her throat was thick and a lump was choking her. What was he going to do to her? Why didn't someone come along? She was so alone.
It had always been this way.
Alone.
Without help.
Isolated in the midst of a big city-at the hands of some depraved male.
"I just want to make you nice and comfy!"
Then he grabbed her blouse and before May Kramer could even try to slap away his hands, before she could even gather enough wits together to try and punch or hit him-or even double up her knee and slam it at his precious weakness, causing him a smashing pain-the blouse was being ripped.
"Get. away from me!" she screamed. Now that her milky white globes suddenly loomed into view, she knew she would have to fight before it was too late. She swerved, tried to sit up and bend her knee. She kicked wildly, and the heel of her skyscraper shoe slashed at something.
The recording star swore vehemently, but gripped her tight by the wrist "Want to ruin me? Just for that, I'll really let you have it." The black belt appeared again. Suddenly, it was looped and twisted around both of May's wrists. Her arms had been yanked upward. She was flattened down on the ground. No matter how she struggled and squirmed, she was held fast.
Her wrists were bound together by the leather belt-both of her palms against each other-and then entwined around a small tree stump so that she was bound a prisoner.' Her breasts rolled around on her chest. The tips had become hard and rock-ridged. She felt every fibre of her being strained and grow taut with fearful anxiety.
She wanted to scream-she wanted to yell and shriek ever since this started-but fear froze her vocal chords. It was all she could do to keep breathing.
Why didn't those two girls come to her rescue? It was bizarre. They just remained huddled together in the back seat of the station wagon.
May remembered her legs. She still wore her skyscraper shoes. The heels were slender and sharp as daggers. Just one well-aimed kick and she would finish that recording star!
The sleek legs danced in the air. But she was so clumsy, so confused, she just could not prepare any direct line of attack. All she got for her efforts were some slaps across her face. Then her ankles were seized and brought tightly together.
He had fingers as strong as steel wires. Somewhere, in a flash of remembrance, May recalled that he had strummed a steel guitar in many of his performances. Small wonder that his hands had such power!
"Think I'll tie these legs together," he said as casually as if he were, making a store purchase.
"I beg of you," she-was sobbing-"don't hurt me-please-oh PLEASE!" Her body quivered and shook as she sought to calm her frazzled nerves.
"I'll make you feel nice and good." There was a noticeable twang to his speech. Undoubtedly, it won him many fans, but right now, it caused May greater fear. It was a savage twang!
Then he was doing something peculiar. He fumbled with his pink bikini and started pulling at a string. "I'll just use this to tie your ankles together, okay?"
A stab of fear tore into her loins. "B-but ... you'll be naked!" she stammered stupidly.
"Well, in that case," he stopped pulling the string of his bikini, "suppose I just yank down your little panties and use them, what say?"
"N-no," she shrieked. "NO!" Everything was crazy. This just could not be happening to her. Maybe it was a wild dream-no a horrible nightmare from which she would awaken to discover in a hot and cold sweat that she was safe after all, right in her own bed!
Why didn't someone come looking for her? She was gone from her station. The brunette knew where she was. Surely someone-anyone-would come searching for the missing car hop! This was the peak of the day and help was sorely needed. Didn't they discover she was absent?
Through blurry eyes, she saw the way the recording star, the twistin' singer, the boyish looking stud who sexed his way to stardom, was slithering out of his pink bikini.
With one last pull, the thread came loose and the pink cloth fell apart.
May Kramer stared-and stared with nervous excitement-at the power that now became turgid and exposed.
A million screaming fans would have given anything to see the manly throb of this recording star, the taut half moons of his muscularly hard round buttocks, the sleek ripple of his upper thighs-the symbol of his power in its dark nest.
But May was only terrified!
Now she knew that he would consummate his perverted urges-but how could that be possible, when he was tightening the bikini around her ankles-drawing both legs so tight that she could not even pull them apart?
What DID he want to do to her?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Like me, eh?" he flashed a smile of pride. He stood up, looking every bit a young Grecian god, with a power that flowed from his handsome young face, through his athletic physique, down around his bronzed loins and his muscular legs.
May was sobbing. Her breasts were riding high on her chest, the slopes of her lower tummy kept dancing up and down with each anxious breath. She struggled. Her wrists were secured as tightly as though a pair of iron manacles had secured them to an iron hoop. Her lower limbs were tight-so tight against each other-she could scarcely move.
The recording star derived an almost narcisstic pleasure out of letting his hands run up and down his body, drawing self-excitement and erotic self-induced stimulation. "Took me a lot of exercise in gyms to build myself up." He still looked pitifully un-manful in comparison to what should have been his main fixture! Apparently, he wanted to make up for this deficiency of Nature ... one which could not be corrected by any means.
He crouched down low, squatted, deliberately flaunting his power at her. "Sure didn't mean to whack you," he mumbled. "But some girls can act stubborn-nothing like a leather whip or belt on the back to make a girl understand things."
From somewhere, the faint sound of car honking was heard; a few loud shrieks, the sound of tires crunching on gravel; then it all faded in the distance. Above, the patch of blue sky pierced the topmost branches of the towering redwoods. Forest thrushes and bluebirds and a katydid added to the symphony of the woods.
But to May Kramer, there was no beauty. There was only savage splendor.
How could this be happening to her? In the midst of civilization, with a hundred people a few dozen yards away to rescue her ... and here she was, bound helplessly naked except for her tiny black lace panties, in the iron grip of a naked recording star!
"What ... are you going to do to me?" She found the courage to ask.
"You're awful stupid," he lamented. "I keep telling you-I want to show you a good time. And I'll pay you ... I gots lots of money. More'n I can spend in a lifetime. I'll spend some on you if you'll just relax a little. Say, you look kind of hot. Want something to cool off?"
He got up, his turgid manhood wavering lewdly in its forest nest. The recording star's bronzed buttocks, rock hard in taut anxiety, flashed in masculine vigor as he went to the station wagon.
"Hey, what's the matter, girls?" It was the first time he had paid attention to them. It was obvious that he derived a weird satisfaction out of standing, his hands on his hips, his legs far apart, exposing himself nakedly before the frightened girls.
"Scared, eh?" He shrugged both shoulders, sending a throbbing power into the upper twin halves of his rock hard chest. "You'll get over it." He took the ice cream float from its receptacle and then went back nakedly to the bound May Kramer.
He crouched down low. his legs brushed against her thigh and the tremor was unavoidable. "Guess I've been rude, May baby."
Her lips trembled so much that she could scarcely mouth her words. "N-no, it's all right ... just let me go, please." If she could appeal to his sense of chivalry, if she would plead and humble herself, arousing his pity, that surely would call forth his sense of pity.
"I will ... just a coupla more minutes." His handsome face looked over the victim. He raised high the cup of ice cream float and turned it over.
The splash of cold soda was like an electrifying shock to her system. It poured over her breasts, down around her navel, then soaked her wispy black lace panty. The gooey ice cream soaked all over, even in the tight shadow-thin line between her smooth thighs.
She began shivering. Spasms tore through her loins. Her bonds were tighter than ever. "B-but ... what are you doing?" She was stricken with fear.
He was crazy!
"Cooling you off." He finished soaking her from her shoulder blades down to her thighs. Then he tossed the carton away. His eyes were smoldering with passion. His voice became husky. He ran his tongue over his lips. Each breath sent a powerful ripple of strength through his torso.
He parted his upper thighs in his crouched condition, looking every bit like a young savage animal in rut heat.
May Kramer felt the throbbing sensation, it was coupled with a more demanding reaction as she saw the way the recording star, the idol of a million screaming fans, bending his darkly handsome head.
Suddenly, his mouth fastened down on the upper breast of his bound girl. His tongue began sloshing around, licking and loving the soda splashed mound. He was actually lapping up the ice cream and flavored soda!
A thousand licking devils ripped through May's loins. It was impossible to control herself. She twisted and twitched and the spasms made her body wrench in agony.
He said nothing; he had become sorely fascinated with this depraved act. He had deliberately splashed the sweet soda and melted ice cream all over her breasts so that he would now be able to lick and kiss and do everything else to "clean" her up!
May felt as if she were being bathed by waters that were not waters but the mouths of a thousand kissing and loving devils. They were devils because they were evil.
They were making her feel reactions that she did not want to feel. They were forcing her to respond. She did not want to respond to such a depraved method.
If only someone would come!
But no-
That would be disastrous!
To be discovered like this-with a recording star who was excitedly kissing and licking every part of the ice cream soda from her creamy white body, nearly naked, with her arms and legs bound together in a savage captivity!
The scandal would never be lived down. She cared naught for his reputation. But her own-it would have been a shocking circumstance and it would haunt her to the end of her days.
He was fascinated with her breasts-a strange fixation of his. He kissed them, loved them, was completely oblivious to all else around him. All he wanted to do was to nuzzle them, to bury his handsome face between the milky white globes, breathe in their warmth, lick away the last traces of the gooey ice cream.
"Strawberries," he laughed hoarsely, not even looking up at May whose face was screwed up in horrifying terror. "I like strawberries with my ice cream. Too bad you didn't have them in the float you brought me."
His mouth yawned wide and then closed down upon one hard strawberry breast tip.
May felt the sharp bite of his teeth. The taut wire snapped and she was hurtling through a mystic void, being bathed in sensuous rapture. Everything was a mirky darkness-a soft, smooth and intimate darkness that kissed her warmly.
The recording star's lips lashed her nipple, bit it, captured it, and aroused fires that May knew would have to be quenched.
If not ... she would scream from the growing tensions. The other breast was not spared this torture. The recording star seized it between both hands. He had such strong hands-they squeezed the breast, mauled it, shaped it into a cone and as he hoarsely gasped.
"Like a strawberry tipped ice cream cone," he proceeded to devour it, capturing it all the way until May squirmed and wanted to sob out that he was going to take it away from her!
Now she was on fire!
She was threshing wildly, straining against her leather bonds that held her wrists, palms together, completely bound. She tried to free her ankles, vaguely surprised that his bikini could be so strong.
He did not even heed her sobbing pleas. They were mostly gibberish and incoherent. On the one hand, May begged to be liberated ... on the other hand, she was pleading with him to release her-but not from her bonds-instead, to be released from the tensions and mounting desires.
He was fascinated with it all, mumbling and making soft, moaning sounds. When he reached her lower tummy, he ripped the black lace briefs apart. Now she was stark naked-and he was taking every advantage of it. He was being cruel and kind. He was biting hard, kissing, teasing, fanning the flames and then deliberately refraining from bringing her merciful release. It was savage and cruel.
May Kramer loved it.
She hated it.
She kept begging for it, not even knowing what she was saying. The recording star did not even hear what she begged. He was using his mouth and hands to really bring her to a high peak-one that was towering above all other peaks. As she would stand up in the peaks that pierced heaven ... she would be pierced just as well-and she would glory in it, knowing that as she flew upward ... she would experience the most heavenly bliss ever imaginable. She would be one glorious mass of sheer ecstasy.
Then he was kissing her-kissing her the way a woman wants to be kissed.
It was the way a lesbian would kiss another lesbian.
And he was doing that to her!
A manly recording star, a top rock 'n' roller, the big name in twistin' and stompin' and guitar twanging'-a body of an Apollo-but the desires of a hermaphrodite-She loved it. She hated it.
And when the summit was reached, a series of low moans escaped her swollen lips. She erupted into violent spasms-her hips trembled, then went up and down ... up and down UP and DOWN!! She was floating in the clouds ... She was floating in the deep sea ... Every part of her was alive with devilish desire. A sharp knife-like pain that was also pleasure, ripped through her loins. "Oh-oh--oh-oh-ohhhhh...."
Writhing and twisting, she was in the throes of agonizing joys. She knew it was sheer ecstasy-and it may have been bizarre-but it was exciting!
When her senses returned, she swooned dizzily. Everything was a black void. Mirky darkness swirled. May Kramer tried to differentiate between reality and a dream. Slowly, she roused herself. Dizzily, she sat up.
Sat up!
She was free!
Her bonds had been removed. This, in itself, was all she needed to revive herself. Free.
She took cognizance of her surroundings. Everything stopped swirling. Objects came into focus. The hazy blurs were clear again. She was aware, first of all, that she was naked. The flush of shame returned. She saw the bronzed back of the recording star. He was stretched out flat, completely exhausted. His naked flanks twitched. He was breathing heavily.
May Kramer got to her knees. She was still dizzy and it took a few moments until her circulation was restored and she could gather her senses.
Her breasts were streaked from the gooey ice cream. Her body felt aohey. She managed to stand up; leaning against a tree, she breathed deeply and slowly managed to straighten out her thoughts.
With numb fingers, she picked up her shorts; they may have been tattered, but they could be worn-at least, it would give her decent covering until she got to her bungalow and could change. Hardly anyone would see her.
She took her torn blouse and was relieved, to a mild degree that it could be worn, too. Her bolero jacket was the final bit of protection.
Now she was ready.
Quietly, she went to the station wagon. The two girls were still there, completely terrified by what they had seen. May Kramer was experienced enough to know that they were girls who wanted to get into the movies. Falling prey to the perverted devices of film stars, they were compelled to participate in the most bizarre activities on the hopes that they could then get a coveted screen test and even a walk on part.
It was an old story. But to screen-hungry girls, it was the only thread to hold on to.
"Can you drive?" she whispered to the taller girl.
She nodded.
"Good-those are the car keys, aren't they?" When she was told that they were, she then asked, "Where's his wallet?"
The girl pointed to the glove compartment In a flash, May Kramer had it opened. She just took one swift glance over her shoulder to be convinced that the recording singer was still resting heavily. He was.
May took the wallet. It was a thick, billfold type, of expensive black leather. It was too expensive for such a young fellow, but then again, with money rolling it, it had to roll out in some direction. The wallet was stuffed with money-bills of denominations ranging from tens up to one hundred. She took some of the bills, folded them, stuffed them in her bra. Then she took the balance, pushed it in the hands of one girl and said.
"Drive on-go on U.S. 101 and it'll take you directly into San Francisco. Park this car on any side street Then take this money and go home-wherever you came from-go home."
Sobbing, the girl obeyed. She got out of the back seat of the station wagon, climbed in front. In a few seconds, she had gunned up the motor, was easing the station wagon backward, onto the makeshift path and soon was out of sight.
Holding the black leather billfold wallet, May Kramer went over to the face down recording star. He was breathing heavily. Strange, thought May. This experience had taken everything out of him. It appeared to have that effect on the most perversed of desires.
May looked into the billfold. She saw some identification cards and papers that looked rather valuable. With a peculiar smile on her pale face, May Kramer looked around. She saw what she wanted.
A few yards away was a small muddy puddle. She went over to it, then withdrew the valuable documents and papers from the billfold. She stuck these into the muddy puddle, deeper and deeper until the papers were completely soiled with dirty mud. Now she did the same with the black leather wallet--soiling it so that it was a gooey mess.
Just as she had been a gooey mess at the hands of this depraved monster.
Now she took everything together, smiled as she heard the squish and the droplets of mud oozing out-she took the wallet and papers and brought the muddy mess to the prone recording star.
She plopped them down at his side.
But May was not finished. She had something else to do! Searching around, she found his expensive shirt, the discarded trousers, the jacket as well as the ascot tie. She saw his imported shoes and socks. These were taken and thrown deep into the woods.
The rest of his clothes were dunked into the muddy puddle, soaked and drenched with slimy mud until they were gooey and disgusting. The muddy mess was tossed down at his side.
There was just one more thing to do. She found a branch-a stout branch that was also narrow. She held it tightly in her hand.
"Wake up!" she said harshly.
He shook his head. "Unh? What...?"
Good. He was awake. She wanted him to be wide awake for what she was going to do to him. She raised on sharp-heeled shoe. This was dug deep ... deep into the muscular folds of the small of his back.
A knife-like pain tore through his middle. This awakened him. "Hey-get off-get off!" he mumbled. He tried to turn over but it was impossible. The more he squirmed, the deeper was the sharp heel dug into his lower back. He screamed. It was a scream of livid pain.
"See how you like it!" snarled May Kramer, flushed with vengeance.
The heel kept him prisoner. And now she was going to punish him for what he had done to her. She aimed the sharp branch and suddenly inserted it.
The singer screamed as he felt the branch-he screamed again and again as the sharp insertion was dug deeper and deeper-as if it were being used on him-as if he were being used as a woman!
"Let go!" he screamed, both legs flung apart, his hard muscled buttocks twitching in spasms. "Let go!"
But his pleas only added fat to the fire of revenge. May Kramer became a dynamic hoyden of power. She was victorious, conquering men-humiliating them-destroying them!
She used the branch with such sharp vigor that scream after scream made it evident that he was being punished!
After he was reduced to a helpless, sobbing mass, writhing on the ground, huddled in a crouch, May Kramer yanked free the branch.
"Be glad I don't really fix you!" Then she laughed shortly, a flash of memory coming back-how Ned and Max had battled and how Ned had been given the supreme torture, the most horrid mutilation that is the nightmare of all men! "I could ruin you-but you don't have much to be ruined, as it is."
Before she left him, she scooped up a few handfulls of gooey mud and flung this at him. He tried to duck, but sobbing, hurt, completely degraded, he could not even defend himself if he tried. The mud streaked his famous profile, soaked his hair, covered him with gooey slime.
A strange exhilaration flooded May Kramer when it was over. She felt a throbbing power. In that moment, she knew that she could never be the equal of men. Neither could she be lower than men. She would always have to be superior-and dominate them!
"You'll be happy here." Jo Laurence had finished tidying up the small apartment in San Francisco. "You have nothing to be afraid of. No one will hurt you."
May Kramer got up, went to the windows and looked out. She had finally made it-to San Francisco. Just why she wanted to come here, what waited for her, was something she did not even understand. Perhaps she just wanted to have somewhere to go. Someone to go to.
"I know I'll be safe ... after that awful experience." It was painful just to think about it.
Outside, she saw Telegraph Hill,' crowned by its cylindrical tower, capped by an observation platform overlooking the entire resplendent world of San Francisco Bay. The tower was a monument to the 19th century San Francisco firemen-in a way, it could even have been a monument to May Kramer and everything she had gone through.
She could imagine seeing the hilly streets of North Beach; Jo Laurence had taken her there-they walked among the Italian fishing families, among Bohemian writers and artists and the bearded beatniks; later they came down Taylor Street to Fisherman's Wharf.
May had been fascinated to see crabbers, sitting cross-legged, mending their nets by hand with long wooden needles; huge iron cauldrons simmered over open fires of boxwood. Behind the kettles were piles of crabs and trays of shrimps and prawns, just waiting to be boiled to order.
Most of all, May loved the fresh, clean atmosphere. All the streets of San Francisco appeared to have the blue sky at one end and the blue bay at the other.
She loved to see the screaming gulls as they waited for scraps to be tossed into the water. It was so wonderful that she could not believe it was real.
"I suppose I should have been careful."
"You'll remember what happened for a long time," said Jo Laurence sagely. "But it should serve to warn you about him. They're blinded by their own instincts. They rule out emotional, mental, spiritual-and they are concerned only with the base physical lusts. Maybe they can't help themselves. But that is no reason why girls should let down their guards."
May Kramer sat down on the contour chair facing the expensive glass-topped cocktail table in the living room. "I don't know how to thank you, Jo, for bringing me here, taking me in your home. How shall I ever repay you?"
Jo Laurence stretched; in her form fitting slacks and mannish shirt, she could have passed for a college boy-except that her breasts protruded. Her hated breasts, Jo had declared angrily. She came toward May. Her very movements were suggestive of a man. Her hair was combed back. She was going to have it cut-cut very short-and look every part of a young man; and those breasts would be painfully strapped down and otherwise obscured.
"But I want you to live here, May."
May moved aside to let Jo sit down on the hassock that was beside her own chair. "I certainly can't go back to work for Tony at the Willow Branch." She smiled. "That recording star sure looked funny, coming out of the woods, streaked with mud, carrying his muddy clothes."
Jo laughed lustily. "I'll bet he got a kick out of everybody seeing him like that. He's a born exhibitionist."
"But it cost me my job." She was downcast. "And mine too," informed Jo.
"But you didn't have to defend me." There had been an almost violent argument in the office. Tony Lindgren wanted to defend the recording star who usually deposited a hundred dollar bill with him if a girl was especially satisfying. Now Tony knew that there would be no more hundred dollar bills every other week or so.
"What's the difference?" A crease of a frown appeared on Jo Laurence's high forehead. "Besides, as I told you yesterday, I really don't have to work. My family is wealthy. The trust fund cheque comes every month-right on the dot. I only worked as a car hop because it put me in touch with a lot of people-especially girls."
"I'm glad we met." May felt Jo's warmth and the reaction was not only physically stimulating, but provided a mental balm that made her feel good.
Very good.
"Are you?" Jo was teasing. "Maybe I'm just a convenient thing for you, May." Her eyes took in May's form fitting silken sheath, brand new, bought with her savings. May's breasts were molded against the bow strung bodice.
"Convenient?"
Jo looked away. "I told you that there are no strings attached when you come to live with me. All I ask is ... your friendship."
"Now that's a big word."
"It takes in a lot, May."
They relaxed quietly for a while, after having eaten. Then Jo turn on the hi fi stereo. The apartment was soon filled with a soft, almost idyllic music. It was Handel's Water Music. The ripples of a lily dotted pond could be seen as two of them, May and Jo, stretched out on a white bearskin rug, staring into the glowing embers of a log fire in the fireplace.
"You've come a long way, May."
May snuggled against Jo, wanting to feel her closeness, the warmth of her body. She had a slight hesitance. Was ... was Jo a confirmed lesbian? It was obvious, from her appearance and all that, but Jo had not made a pitch for her. It was all on a straight friendship basis.
"Jo?"
"What?"
"Tell me something."
Jo sighed. "What?" A tinge of impatience. "Have you ... ever loved a man?"
Jo's arms stiffened. "Of course not!" May began to feel better.
"Why do you ask? I know you've been had by men. Do you think it matters to me?"
"Nothing seems to matter any more," May reflected soulfully.
"Don't talk like that!" Jo was becoming more and more aggressive but without the harmful effects of manishness. She would not, like the other men known by May Kramer, seek to violate her. "There are things that matter."
May wanted to know some examples. "At times, I wonder what is right and what is wrong. Could you help me, Jo? Help me draw a line between the two. I'm lost. I'm so very lost."
Jo held onto May; her arm was possessive around the girl's soft waist. Her hand brushed against her heavy breasts. "You aren't lost, May, when I'm with you. Do you want to know what is right and what is wrong? It is love-love can be right and it can be wrong. The love a man has for a woman is right, if it is unselfish. But a man's love is physical-and is selfish because it seeks to gratify his physical yearnings. He looks upon the woman as his means of satisfaction. That love is wrong. The love of a woman for a woman-it is right-because each seek the same pleasures and these can be obtained only by unselfish desires. There can be no deceit in that kind of love."
She was beginning to understand. "Then passion is wrong if it is selfish."
Jo nodded. "You're learning."
May stirred and looked up at Jo's face. In the darkening twilight coming through the bay windows, the face was almost masculine, yet had a softness that was pleasing. She looked every part the picture of a youthful boy.
"Jo?"
"Mmmm?"
"Do you love me?"
A slight pause. "Do you want me to love you?"
"Yes, Jo, oh yes-more than anything else in the world."
"I was waiting for you to say that, May. I want you to ask for my love. I'm not going to force it on you like the others did."
In a flash, May Kramer understood. Others had seized her, used her, cared little about her responses. But Jo Laurence would not take her-unless she, May Kramer, approved.
"Take off my dress, Jo." Then she said in a small voice as the excited Jo, the self-confessed lesbian, began pulling the dress up around her waist, exploring the lush confines of her upper thighs, "and make love to me. I want to be loved-and to love you, too."
It acted as an aphrodisiac to Jo Laurence.
Moments later, the two of them were naked on the bearskin rug. Jo Laurence was kissing May Kramer, stroking the soft contours of her lower back, cupping the slopes of her buttocks in her hands, massaging them with satiny gentleness.
Jo's mouth loved May's breasts-but it was a soft love, filled with kindness. Jo was more than just a lesbian lover. She filled the wells of happiness. She knew how to make May respond ... and May rallied to the call and loved Jo-she loved her as if she loved life, itself.
They fell asleep in one another's naked arms, dreaming of nymphs and naked maidens in the shaded groves of the courtyards of Sappho of Lesbos.
