enovel A Hard Man, Nowadays, Is Good To Find Curt Aldrich [Future Story Codes]

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A Hard Man, Nowadays, Is Good To Find ....(85k)    by Curt Aldrich

"Physical contact, either with the love partner, an object, or by a masturbatory practice, also brings an erection in the normal male. . . the love partner's hand rubs the male's lap or, if they are standing, the bodies press together, thus stimulating the penis by contact." So writes Roger Blake, Ph.D., in The Impotent Male. For Dave Hardy, erection had become a way of life. Rarely was physical contact even necessary (unless he was on his way to 5ths or 6ths). More frequently, in his strange subconscious world, the mere possibility of sexy doings would bring on that twitch.

1

A blonde with bare titties opened the door of the posh Palm Springs pad. She wore pink bikini pants, cut low, clinging to-the ripe curve of her cunt.

"Are you expected? " she asked, batting her blue eyes at me.

"Yeah. My name's Dave Hardy." "Come on."

She turned and led the way through the smartly furnished living room. I watched her ass gyrate in those stretched brief pants, and my cock damned near hardened. I hadn't screwed a babe in three days, and I was randy.

The action was on the patio, under a canopy, where there was a bar, a hi-fi, a half-dozen luscious chicks, and a bronzed, gray-haired stud named Quentin Voss.

He was big and husky and seemed in excellent shape for a guy in his fifties. Wearing blue bathing trunks, he sat in a deck chair, holding a tall glass.

Beside him was the most delectable brunette I'd ever seen. She was standing, bending forward, while he handled her bare tits like a grower testing fruit to see if it was ripe for picking.

It was. Sweet shit, she had as ripe a set of boobies as a man could ever hope to get hold of.

Voss glanced my way and said in his rumbling, deep voice, "Hardy?"

"That's right."

"Sit down. Sit down." He motioned to a chair beside him.

It was occupied, at the moment, by a chick with the kind of red hair that looked real. I couldn't tell for certain, because she had the bottom of her bikini on, as did all the others. Also, like the others, she was minus her bikini top. Her tits were small and very erect, with pale little nipples that stuck way out.

My cock itched and I was eager to sit down; I felt an erection coming on, sure as hell.

The redhead got up. Her titties trembled. She watched me through shadowed, sensual green eyes.

I gave her a little grin and sat down.

Without a word, she plopped onto my lap.

Voss bellowed a laugh. "That's the way, Ginny. Make him feel at home. Drink, Mr. Hardy?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah. Thanks. Scotch, if you have it."

That last phrase was a silly thing to say. It was obvious Voss had everything.

"Lisa, pour him a double Chwas."

Lisa was the stacked brunette. She gave me a cool smile and moved to the bar. I watched her lush ass for a moment, then turned to face forward-and found myself staring directly at the small tits of the redhead.

My cock went hard against her warm, pressing butt. She gave no sign that she felt it, but I knew damned well she did. I have close to eight inches when it stretches out.

She casually lifted a lock of shining hair over her shoulder and gazed off across the blue-green pool. Her perfume teased my nostrils.

"So you're a PI," Voss said. "You look young."

"I'm twenty-five," I mumbled.

The near-nudity of the redhead and the other beautiful chicks had momentarily unnerved me. Don't get the idea that I hadn't had my share of experience with girls. I had, hut I'd never had a whole covey of bare-breasted beauties surrounding me. And they all seemed like the friendly sort.

"How long have you been an investigator?" Voss asked, taking a swig from his glass.

"About a year."

He looked me over from behind his dark Polaroid shades. "Okay. You look like you can handle yourself. Here's the bit."

Lisa returned and handed me a glass of Scotch on the rocks.

"Thanks," I said, grinning at her knockers. They were big and round and juicy, with rosy tips the size of the end joint of a man's little finger.

Voss went on talking as she passed in front of him, her titties vibrating, and sank gracefully into a chair at his other side.

"I'm a film producer, as I told somebody at your office when I phoned," he said. "My specialty is skin flicks. These are some of my actresses." An expansive wave of his arm took in the whole crew. "Lately we've been having trouble. Somebody has been trying to scare off my girls."

"Scare them off? What do you mean?" I gazed at the pink-tipped boobies in front of me, and my cock throbbed against the redhead's bottom.

"They've been getting phone calls from some ass-hole who threatens to deal them all kinds of shit unless they quit working for my company.

Lisa leaned forward. Looking at me, she took off her round, dark glasses. "Some nut with this real yucky voice told me that if I kept working for Mr. Voss I'd be jumped on my way home some night and have my tits cut off. That's just what the voice said: 'I'll cut your tits off. Just like that."

I suppressed a shudder. It was a bell of a thought. The world has far too few tits as it is.

"You have no idea who the caller was?" I asked.

She shook her head, causing her black hair to swish against her tanned shoulders and her boobs to tremble.

"Was it a man or a woman?" I asked.

"I don't know that, either. It was impossible to tell. The voice was sort of muffled ... disguised, maybe."

"The other girls report the same kind of calls," Voss said. "Tell him about yours, Ginny."

The redhead turned to face me. Her lips moved very close to mine. "The creep told me I'd get a red-hot poker shoved up my ass," she replied in an angry tone.

"Hell!" I said. It was the only response I could think of.

"The jerk who called me said he'd remove all my cunt hair by electrolysis," reported the blonde who'd let me into the house. "That'd be horrible for me, because I'm a real blonde, and without hair on my pussy I'd have a hard time proving it."

"You see, we show everything in our films," Voss explained, "but I suppose you know about the recent trends in nudie Alms, don't you, Hardy?"

"I've seen a few," I admitted.

The redhead was gazing warmly at me, all through this. Damn, but I wanted to screw her, and she acted as if she felt the same way.

I forced myself to glance back at the blonde (which wasn't a hell of a lot of trouble, because she was just as cute as Ginny).

"You said he," I pointed out. "The voice sounded to you like a man's, hm? "

She shrugged, sending a tremor through her twin peaks. "I couldn't tell for sure, but I figure it was."

I didn't press her as to why she'd reached that conclusion. Anyway, Voss spoke up. "I want you to stay right with us, Hardy, so you can be here-or at my Hollywood studio-when the next call comes in. There's a way you can trace it, isn't there?"

"I'd have to get the phone company's help," I said. "Incidentally, have you notified them?" "No." He took another sip from his glass. "How about the police?" "No again." "Why not?"

"Bad publicity. Money's the name of the game in this business. Investment money, I mean. Investors are a skittish lot. If my backers find out we're getting threats, they might drop me and put their money somewhere else. There are lots of nudie producers around."

"Mmmmm," I mmmmed.

"Do you think you can help us, honey?" the redhead purred.

"No doubt about it," I answered, gazing into her smoldering green eyes.

My cock had been proving for five or ten minutes that I could help her, in particular.

"Okay, so you're on the payroll," Voss told me. "Stick close. Whatever happens, I want you to be in on it. Ginny, show Mr. Hardy to his room, will you?"

"Sure." She got up.

A tremor of apprehension went through me at the thought of standing up and making it obvious to all that I was a horny bastard. Ginny already knew it, of course, but I didn't want to show off my hard-on to everyone else, especially not to Voss.

Ginny smiled down at me, her eyes glinting wisely. "Well? " she asked.

Voss and the girls were all looking my way. My fuck-hungry pecker refused to get soft. (Well, could I blame it, with all those bare tits around?) I blushed. Yeah, really blushed, like a kid.

That made me angry, and I thought, what the hell! I got up, putting Ginny in the chair.

"Ooooooo!" a pretty, brown-haired chick exclaimed, clapping her hands.

A guttural laugh rolled from Voss' throat. "Maybe Ginny'd better keep you company in your room," he said. "We can't have you goin' around in that condition all the time; that would also be bad publicity."

I looked at him. Though his eyes were hidden by those dark glasses, he seemed to have really meant it.

I glanced quickly at Ginny, and her smile told me she was game.

Goddamn! I thought. I've died and gone to heaven!

We'd no sooner entered my bedroom than Ginny pressed herself against me.

"Let's not let all that good cock go to waste," she purred.

I wrapped my arms around her and zeroed in on her mouth. Our lips sizzled together. Our tongues stroked. My prick came up higher, hard as an iron bar against her belly.

She squirmed, giving me a lush sensation. I placed a hand across her curved, springy ass.

We sank to the bed. I still had my clothes on, but Ginny was changing that. She'd obviously undressed a good many guys. I squirmed out of my jacket and shirt, with my tie still hanging around the collar. She opened the top of my trousers and pulled them down, removing my shoes at the same time.

My cock stuck up in my Jockey briefs. There was a wet spot on the cloth where the tip of my pecker pressed.

The girl gazed at the protrusion greedily, then gripped the top of my briefs and pulled them down too. My cock sprang free.

It was so damned hard, the skin had pulled almost all the way back from its head. Ginny completed that process with her cool, slender hand, and my cockhead throbbed, beet-red from its load of blood.

Ginny gave a little cry and swooped. Her wide mouth opened and took the whole head of my prick inside-all one and seven-eighths inches of it. She ran her tongue around and around it as she sucked.

I closed my eyes, pressed my head back against the mattress and groaned. The whole world seemed to spin around me. My body was taut as a bow. My balls were chockfull of cream, and they ached with the need to expel.

I reached down and yanked the eager chick off my cock.

She flopped onto her back. Her lips were loose and moist, her eyes hot with passion.

"Screw me hard!" she ordered. "I haven't had a good one in days."

I couldn't understand that, considering that she was so beautiful and that she went around half-naked. True, Voss was the only man I'd seen in the house so far, but there had to be other studs nearby. Anywhere you find a flock of eager young chicks, you're going to find guys who have already found them.

But I didn't let the incongruous remark worry me. I just accepted my good fortune at face value and reached for her bikini pants. I pulled them off. She kicked her legs to help.

As I tossed the pants away, she spread her thighs wide, drawing her feet back to her rump.

I gazed at her beautiful, wet, red cunt.

It was bordered by a thin fringe of hair which was nearly as red as that on her head. Allowing for the bleaching effect of the sun on her crowning glory, that meant her hair color was as natural as I'd guessed it would be.

Her pussy was pale pink on the outside and, as I said, lusciously red within. I knew she had the kind that opened up of its own accord, because its little lips had a tendency to protrude.

I positioned myself between her thighs and took just a moment to rub my hand back and forth across her firm, stiff-nippled titties. She eagerly wrapped her hand around my stalk.

"You're big!" she said approvingly.

"Think you can handle it? " I growled.

"I can take all you've got and then some," she promised. "Don't hold back. Pump it like there's no tomorrow!"

Shit! This had to be heaven. Where else would you meet a chick like this?

I moved forward a little, and she tilted my pecker toward her open snatch, keeping her hand on it to plow the head around in her softness.

"Ooh, yessss!" she hissed. "You're all cock, mister! Show; it in!"

She lifted as I drove into her, my prick sinking nearly all the way on the first lunge. I groaned; she whimpered.

I pulled back, almost letting the head slip out, then thrust it down and forward again. I got a little more of her this lime; the fit was snug as hell. I could believe she hadn't been fucked for as long as she'd said.

She wriggled her cunt around me. Her shadowed eyelids were closed, her wide mouth twisted. I glimpsed her red, moist tongue.

"Ooooh, screw it!" she said. "Give me hell with that rod!"

I pulled and thrust, pulled and thrust, and we fell into a rhythm. Our hips pumped as one, and my happy prick slid in and out, in and out of her warm, tight, velvety cunt.

Man, that was humping!

Just then the door opened and in strolled the big-titted blonde who'd met me at the door. Her eyes were bright as she gazed at us.

I didn't stop, just because of her. Shit, I couldn't! It was go-for-broke time.

Ginny paid no attention to the other girl. I'm not even sure she saw her, at first. Her eyes may have opened once or twice, but whenever I raised up a little and looked at her pretty face, they were closed. Her titties trembled tautly as I socked my meat into her. The bed wheezed a little, but it was too expensive to squeak or creak.

The blonde stood beside the bed and watched us. After a few moments, she untied her bikini and took it off. As promised by my imagination, her snatch was topped by golden fluff.

I screwed Ginny harder, she accelerating with me, whining and panting. I growled and went for the payoff.

"Ooooh!" the blonde whispered heatedly, in something like awe as she watched us screw to a crashing climax, all the time fingering herself.

Ginny started to come first, which is the way I've always liked it. She quivered, her cunt muscle grabbing at me. She reached up for deeper penetration. I obliged her with a thrust that damn near touched her backbone. My cock jerked and spewed forth all the stored up cream my balls possessed.

I growled raspingly.

Ginny replied, "Ooh ... oooh ... ooooh ... mmmm!", no more articulate than I.

We relaxed against the bed, blissfully.

"Hey ... make room for baby," the blonde murmured, and she got on the bed beside us.

I wanted to ask if there wasn't somebody else around the place to take care of the female population (assuming Voss couldn't handle all of them, which was a pretty fair bet), but I was too chivalrous to say it. Anyway, I didn't want to give them the idea I was reluctant to handle the whole job myself. I was sure as hell going to try!

I pulled out of Ginny and settled between the two chicks. They were both on their backs, and I lay on my belly awhile.

The blonde smiled cozily at me. "I'm Jane."

I couldn't resist the corny reply, "I feel like Tarzan."

"I hope his screwing s better than his jokes," she laughingly said to Ginny.

"Mmmmm," Ginny purred contentedly. "You oughta get yourself some of that cock." "Good?"

"Scrumptious!' He nearly tickled my tonsils with that long pole."

"It's not so long now," Jane said, fondling it.

I felt a new wave of heat down there. The damned tiling was trying to get stiff again, already.

"He must've filled me with a gallon of cream," Ginny offered. "I'm gonna have to go get cleaned out."

Slowly she slid off the bed and stood up, as I watched her. She was very slender. Her butt was small and tight.

Jane wouldn't let me watch Ginny walk to the bathroom. She turned my head toward her and began licking my lips with her wet, pink tongue, fondling my peter at the same time.

I wondered if she would give head the way Ginny had. That would bring niy dong back up in a hurry, if anything would.

But some girls who will go down when a man is clean, won't do it after his cock has been in use. I'm kind of that way myself-with pussies-but I have to admit there've been a few times when I've gotten hot enough to suck up my own come along with their juice.

Jane's pussy was, presumably, fresh and clean right now. I thought about mouthing it.

But she was carrying the play at the moment, and she wouldn't let me kiss my way down her body. She kept running her juicy tongue over my lips and dipping it between them. It quivered against mine.

I filled my hand with one of her round, luscious tits, squeezing the springy beauty. My thumb rubbed back and forth across her rosy nipple, making it bigger and harder. Little bumps stood up on her aureole. I could feel them prick at my thumb as I bent her nipple to and fro.

She moaned.

"Why don't you suck it?" she suggested in a smoldering tone.

She kept fondling my prick, which had gained a little dignity but wasn't yet stiff.

I bent down to her tit and lifted the heavy boob in my hand. My tongue worked over the nipple and ring. I took the nubbin between my lips, rolled it a little, then sucked it deeper into my mouth.

Jane moaned again. She changed her position slightly, causing her full tit to shake against my sucking mouth.

Her hand pulled at my prick more urgently. It was stiffening.

Ginny returned from the John while I was sucking Jane's boob and she was still stroking my cock. Ginny got on the bed at my other side. She leaned against me and began kissing along my back.

These were the most uninhibited wenches I'd ever screwed around with. Ginny further proved this by kissing all the way to my rump. Her teeth scraped against first one butt-cheek, then the other, as her hot, sucking mouth went its course. Her tongue flickered moistly against my skin.

I transferred my mouth from one of Jane's tits to the other. I squeezed and rolled the first one while I sucked its twin. Her knowing fingers tickled my come-coated cockhead and rubbed lightly against its orifice.

"Big Dick is ready," she announced, in a tone which implied Little Pussy was ready also.

By now, Ginny had bent even further toward the foot of the bed and was licking along the backs of my hairy thighs.

My fingers plucked at Jane's cunt fur, then worked their way into her fleshy groove. It was moist. I rubbed my fingertips up and down across her clitty a few times and made it as hard as a little pebble.

"Oooh, I wanta screw!" she announced.

"Well screw, don't worry," I assured her in a husky voice.

My middle finger slid into the deep inner chasm of her cunt and found the going slick and warm. I stroked that finger in and out of her pussy several times, then added a second digit.

She writhed around my diddling incursions, moaning all the time and pulling lightly at my cockhead, sliding her fingertips from its ridge to its end, again and again.

Ginny kissed all the way up the back of my legs and began once more to lick and nibble at my ass. (If you've never had a babe do that for you, buddy, you've missed out on a mighty sweet thrill!)

My only problem was that it was getting urgent for me to get my gun off, and I wanted to get it off with Jane. Two lovely babes in a row, on one afternoon, would put me in the "swinger" class.

I got up on my knees, gripped both her juicy tits and rolled them as I pinched her fat nipples between my forefingers and thumbs. Jane's hands fluttered down around my nuts, fondled them a little, and plucked at my long, wispy hairs.

I slid my hands to her thighs and opened them wide.

She gazed at my cock, sticking out and up toward her, and said, "Let me get on top, huh? I like to do it that way best, when a guy's really hung."

I was flattered. But indeed, my eight-inch shaft did well complement its one-and-seven-eighths-inch knob.

Anyway, I liked the thought of her big tits hanging above my face, where I could play with them and suck them while we screwed.

I stretched out on my back and let her mount me.

Jane was a big, healthy girl-loaded at the topside, warmly rounded at the hips, with thick, smooth thighs and a snapping, blonde-furred snatch. This was my kind of cunt, and I speared it with gusto.

She wiggled it right down to the base of my cock, and it felt as if I were trapped in a velvet vise-warm and wet, holding me snugly on all sides.

Her titties cascaded toward my face. I basketed them between my hands and shook the plump, firm beauties back and forth.

"You must be a tit man," she said as she smiled down, a lock of golden hair falling in front of one eye.

"I'm an everything man when I'm with a chick like you," I said, and slid my hands down her sides to cup the round, resilient cheeks of her ass.

Ginny sat up and watched us.

That's a kick, too--being watched by one chick while you're fucking another.

The kicks were coming thick and fast for me that day. And, let me tell you, the day had only begun.

Jane rotated her cunt around my meat and slid it up and down rhythmically. Her titties vibrated. I placed my hands against them and rolled them back and forth. Then I held them loosely and let them wobble in my hands while we screwed.

I plucked at her plump, rosy nipples and twisted them a little.

She panted and closed her eyes while she screwed me with obvious passion.

These babes weren't faking it-neither Ginny nor Jane. They really wanted what I had to offer. Yet they didn't seem to be raging nymphos. Was it possible, in a house such as Voss kept, that they didn't have any way of being satisfied regularly?

This was speculation which occurred to me somewhere along the line, but not, I must confess, while my cock was embedded in Jane's twisty, warm cunt, with Ginny watching me get the treatment.

After a while, Jane leaned down against my chest, using her boobs as shock absorbers, and worked her snatch like hell. I bumped upward into it, grasping her pliant ass and squeezing. '

We came together, she heaving and fluttering while I ejaculated my second load of the day.

That was two down ... with four or five more to go! Wow!

2

"I think I'd better get to work," I told Ginny, as she tried to take over my depleted hulk after Jane had climb off it.

"That's what I want you to do, honey," .she purred "Work, work, work."

"Huh-uh, not that kind," I said, holding her away as I sat up. "Voss will be wanting to sec me."

"Screw Voss.'"

I grinned. "I'd much rather screw you, baby. But man cannot screw constantly. Nature has a little gimmick to prevent that."

"If you're worried about your cock not getting hard, she said, "don't be. I can take care of that problem."

Her flaming hair tossed against my belly as she bent toward me.

I caught her under the chin, just in time.

"Goddam it, no!" I said firmly. "Maybe later."

She looked at me from beneath half-lowered lids "Didn't I blow you good before?"

"Baby, you blow beautifully. But, like I told you, work comes first right now."

"Oh shit," she said with a sigh, and shinnied off the bed

"Look, maybe while we're here together and Voss isn't around, you can tell me a few things that might be helpful Does Voss have any business rivals who would like to total him out?"

"Sure. This is a dog-eat-dog business."

"How long have you worked for him?"

"Six months. Maybe seven."

"How many films have you appeared in?"

"Three features and several shorts."

I crossed my ankles as I sat on the bed, being somewhat relaxed. "What do you think is behind all this?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? I figure the guy who's making the calls is some kind of nut."

"You said guy. You think he's a man too, hm?"

"Probably. The voice sounds kind of masculine ... but sorta high-pitched. As I said, I think he's a looney."

"He's going to a lot of trouble." '

"Not for a looney. They thrive on trouble."

The bathroom door opened and Jane reappeared, still naked.

"Well, what happened to our orgy?" she demanded, hands on hips, her round, toothsome titties sticking out.

"It's over," I said. "I have to get back to work."

I slid off the bed and stood up. Both girls eyed my dong.

"I was talking to Ginny about the phone calls," I told Jane. "What more can you tell me about them?"

"Nothing. I just got the one."

"Has any girl gotten more than one?"

"Not that I know of."

"Did you get your call at home ... at the studio ... or where? "

"Right here-yesterday." "How about you, Gin?" "Here, also."

"What arc all of you doing here, incidentally?"

"We're on location," Ginny said, as she lifted some hair over her shoulder. "We've got a big orgy scene to shoot at the pool."

"When is that?"

"Who knows? When Voss gets around to it. I don't ask questions so long as I get paid."

"So in the meantime you're all living here together, hm?"

"That's it."

"Just you two, Voss, and the other girls?" "Oh shit, no. There's his crew, the frigging director . . i everybody. Plus the household staff." "Where are they hiding now?"

"The staff's around somewhere. The crew's taking some location shots for atmosphere." She made a face. "What they need with atmosphere, though, I couldn't tell you. The guys who go to see skin flicks just want bare asses and tits."

"Tell me a little more about Voss," I said as I shoved a leg into my shorts. "Is he married or single?"

"Oh, he's got a wife," Jane said. "She lives in West Hollywood. Lisa's his mistress."

"Does she act, too?"

"Does she!" Ginny chimed in, and both girls laughed.

"Can you think of anyone who might have a personal motive to give him a bad time?" I asked them.

"The way I see it," said Jane, "the guy who's makin' those phone calls wants to give the girls a bad time. We're the ones he hates, not Voss!"

I wasn't quite sure how she figured that, since the point of the calls seemed to be to wreck Voss' business. (But then, a skin-flick actress doesn't have to be smart. As Ginny had said, she only has to show her ass and tits.)

"Okay, girls. Thanks." I pulled my pants up. "You've been a big help," I added with a grin.

"Fun-neee," chirped Jane.

She glanced at the slender redhead. It was a look full of meaning, and Ginny read the message loud and clear. The girls got together on the bed.

That raised hell with my illusions. I'd concluded these chicks were cock-crazy, and now I was finding out they were cunt-crazy, too.

If I hadn't felt so deflated right then, I probably would have stayed and watched them diddle each other, but I did have work to do. Saying I'd catch them later, I finished dressing, visited the John, and returned to join Quentin Voss on the patio.

He wasn't alone. (Come to think of it, I never saw Voss alone. He was a gregarious bastard, and he was mostly so with girls.) Lisa was still with him, and still minus her bra. Several other chicks were splashing around in the pool. But my interest was attracted to a guy sprawling in a deck chair next to Voss.

He was about my age, maybe a year or two older. He must have been six and a half feet tall, was stiletto-thin, and had a nose like the beak of a vicious bird. He also had long black sideburns, shaggy hair, and small, dark eyes.

If you think those features combined to create a striking impression you're right. Add bell-bottom jeans in a psychedelic print, a dark, floppy shirt and sandals, and you've really got something. I wasn't yet sure what it was.

"Oh! Hardy! I want you to meet my director, Simon Tucker." Voss waved a thick, shaggy arm at the other man.

"Mr. Tucker," I said, and offered my hand.

He looked at me with disdain. My hand seemed to shrivel in mid-air. Instant dislike gushed to my nerve-endings.

"Sit down, Hardy, sit down," Voss rumbled, patting me on the arm, quickly glossing over the spontaneous schism that had formed.

I took the chair at his other side.

"Simon and I were discussing our production schedule," Voss said. "We're hampered by the loss of a couple of girls. They chickened out."

It seemed to me that there were more than enough pretty cunts remaining on the premises, but who was I to tell the king of the nudies how to run his business?

"What do you think, Si?" Voss went on. "Will we be ready to shoot the orgy tomorrow?"

"We shoot, ready or not," Tucker announced in a surly growl.

"But this has to be good. The picture hinges on it."

'Till be good," Tucker snarled. "Stop buggin'me."

Voss turned my way. "Si's the top man in the nudie field. Whatever he says, goes."

Bully for him, I thought. But I just managed a weak grin.

"Well..." the director said, and stood up. "I ve been workin' my ass off. Time to relax."

His sharp eyes scanned the pool.

"April!" he bawled. "Get the shit over here!"

A cute little brunette scrambled out of the pool, butt-naked. She had fine, small tits with dark nipple rings no bigger than two-bit pieces. Her cunt-fur was black and plastered to her dripping body.

She tripped toward Tucker, along the pool deck, her titties vibrating tautly.

The sight was so frigging pretty that even my tired cock stirred; the dumb shit didn't know when it had had enough.

"Spread out on that chaise," Tucker ordered, gesturing toward the lounge next to the chair he'd been occupying.

Without a word, April complied. She dropped onto her ass and hooked her legs over the sides of the vinyl cushion, opening her crotch to the director.

"Not that way, dumbo," he said. "You know the way I like it."

"But, Mr. Tucker!" she complained. "Your thing is so long!"

"And you're gonna take every damned inch of it this time," he growled. "Onto your belly!"

She whined but she turned over, spread-eagling herself, face-downward, her pretty ass stuck up in the air, split wide open.

My silly cock went bone-stiff again.

While Voss, the girls in the pool and I looked on, Tucker dropped his psychedelic trousers to reveal a long, thin pecker and pendulous balls shrouded by black, short curlies. Soft, his cock looked like a frigging fire-hose.

I glanced at Voss. He licked his lips in anticipation.

The girls lined up along the edge of the pool to get the best possible view. They murmured seriously back and forth-there was no hilarity attached to this little game. It made me think, somehow, of a whipping scene in a sexploitation film, where everyone gathers around silently to watch some poor unfortunate girl get flogged.

Tucker gazed at April's upturned ass, jiggling his lax cock in his hand. Suddenly the flaccidity went out of it, and the long, skinny tool stiffened. He had me beat in length (and that ain't easy), but his dong wasn't as fat.

When it was ready for action, he gripped the girl's spongy buttocks and pulled them even wider apart. He made a face, then let go with a wad of spittle. It struck her right on the button-right on her little puckered ass-hole, that is. This was all the lubricant she was going to get, apparently, before she took his prick up the old dirt road.

Voss watched intently from behind his dark glasses.

Now I knew his hang-up. He was a voyeur. That, as much as the desire to make money, no doubt accounted for his choice of skin flicks as the type of film to produce.

But who was I to talk? I, also, was watching Tucker and the girl. And my pecker was like granite.

Simon wiggled the tip of his dick into April's little rear aperture. She gasped sharply and bit her lip. He clenched his fingers and kept wiggling, then suddenly gave a deft thrust. His cockhead and half his shaft popped into her shit chute.

"Aaagggh!" she exclaimed.

He drew back, pushed in deeper, withdrew, and sank it further yet. Tears streamed down the girl's cheeks. The chicks in the swimming pool stared, speechless. Voss' mouth hung open. His heavy breathing was clearly audible.

Tucker began to fuck the girl rhythmically, pumping his cock in and out of her anus in short, quick thrusts.

"Uuunh ... uuunh ... uuunh!" she uuunhed.

I thought I detected a note of passion in that, mixed with the obvious pain.

The man's cock probed deeper and deeper into her rectum. He rotated it slightly and stroked it in and out.

A rumbling growl escaped from Voss. "That's the way, Simon!" he muttered under his breath. "Get her, get her! Screw her good!"

This is sick, I thought, but my cock kept throbbing in my pants.

Finally April started to twist and press her ass back at the man who was fucking her tuchas. She was at last enjoying it!

The finish was frenzied, with the girl giving as good as she got. As the man's slender dong pumped in and out of April's ass-hole, her butt bobbed and wiggled.

Voss wheezed.

The girls in the pool stared.

I caught myself hoping Ginny and Jane were still in my bedroom. I wanted to rush back to them as soon as this little episode was over.

Tucker grunted and compressed his lean buttocks, jamming his dick to the hilt.

"Uuuu ... hhnn . . ladaah!" she cried, her whole body shaking as his warm sperm mingled with the shit in her bowels.

I closed my eyes and willed my cock to subside long enough for me to make it to my bedroom. Of course, it showed no signs of complying. So I got up anyway and, without a word to Voss, hurried from the patio with my cock forming a tent in the front of my pants.

As luck would have it, I bumped into a servant girl just inside the house. She was a cute, short-haired blonde in a black-and-white Uniform.

Her blue eyes opened wide when she saw me, then dropped immediately to my hard-on. (As if that were the next place one naturally looks.)

I didn't reach my bedroom. I didn't get any farther than the living room of the palatial, ranch-style home. If there was a sickness in that place, everybody was infected with it, including the servants. Maybe it was just the virus of freedom, which let all of them do whatever the hell they wanted to do whenever the shit they wanted to do it.

Anyway, the blonde maid said in a thick Swedish accent, "You are a new one!" Then she pressed her bountiful young body against me.

My cock poked her somewhere around the belly button.

I wrapped my hands around her springy ass. Under the starchy black dress and the briefs that clung closely to her curves, she was all woman. I squeezed and rolled her ample butt cheeks as our mouths met.

I let her have my tongue. She sucked and nibbled on it. She made passionate little sounds in her throat.

We sank to the shaggy carpet and scrambled to a secluded spot behind a sofa.

I ran my hand up her thighs. . . off the tops of her stockings...' onto smooth, pliant flesh. I squeezed and patted her lovely, meaty thighs.

She fluttered her tongue between my lips.

My hand crawled up around her pantied ass.

The girl's name was Inga, as I later found out, but we didn't bother with names at that moment-for what's in a name when a fuck's close at hand?

Inga investigated my shorts and said "Ooooo!" when she'd measured the length and girth of my prick. She quickly unzipped my fly, reached in, and brought out the big dingus.

By then I'd pushed her skirt up to her waist and was petting all over her pink nylon panties.

I rolled her fully onto her back and hooked two fingers over the elastic waistband of her briefs. I stretched the elastic downward, denuding her belly button.

I bent and flickered my tongue tip at the knurled little cup.

"Oooh ... ooooh!" she exclaimed, and bounced her belly against my face.

I pulled her pants down further. A hank of golden hair appeared. Two genuine blondes in a row! That was almost too fantastic to believe. (The odds on that must be tremendous.)

I peeled her panties all the way off and opened wide her luscious thighs. Iriga had one of the prettiest pussies I'd ever seen-pink, young meat fringed by those buttery curls.

I caressed her cunt with the tips of my fingers while she moaned lightly and fingered the knob of my prick. My thumbs opened her pale-colored outer labia to reveal a richer-pink vestibule which already was awash with sticky, warm lubricant. Its erotic aroma wafted up to my nostrils, causing them to flare like those of a stud-dog on the trail of a bitch in heat, which isn't far from true.

I wiggled a fingertip into her fleshy folds and found the tip of her clitoris. I rubbed it and she thrashed her hips so violently that I lost contact.

I slid my trusty digit into her secret slit and found the going slick and warm. Inga was an eminently fuckable young chick.

It crossed my mind that she might be jail bait-under eighteen, in other words-but I figured if she was old enough to work in Voss' house, she was old enough to get herself screwed. Anyway, I didn't flatter myself that I would be the first cat around there to screw her.

I slid my finger out of her snatch and wiped it across her lush, cream-colored thigh, above the elasticized top of a nylon.

"Open the top of your dress," I husked. "I want to see your titties."

Funny about that. There were bare tits all over the place. You'd think I might have gotten along nicely without seeing Inga's. But, with tits, there's an infinite variety. No two pairs are alike. I could look at a continuous parade of the lovely things and never get bored.

(Before you conclude I've got a tit fixation, the same thing goes for cunts. And asses. And thighs. Even belly buttons. I'm an appreciative stud; I really am.)

She worked the top of her dress down, turned onto her side, and unhooked her bra. Out bobbed a pair of boobs that were damned near as large and round as soft-balls-but ever so much softer, while being pleasantly firm inside. They were capped by succulent pink stems which stuck up toward me, inviting me to treat them as nipples were meant to be treated.

I wrapped my hands around her tits, shoved them together, and wiggled them up and down, watching them quiver in their glorious fullness and watching the tall, stiff nipples nod. I bent the buds back and forth with my thumbs.

"Oooh, I like!" Inga exclaimed.

"So do I, baby!" I husked, and dropped my face to one of the lovely, pink protrusions. I sucked it up.

I worked on Inga's titty like a starving infant. The thumb and first two fingers of my other hand rolled the other rubbery stem.

Inga, all this time, was pulling at my stalk. I started thinking that if the girls in this place kept up that yanking motion, my dick was going to get even longer than it was.

I slid my wet, panting mouth down the inner slope of the tit I'd been sucking and up the slope of the other. I clamped onto the dry nipple and quickly turned it wet with my saliva, which was flowing freely.

My hand slid down across the rumpled skirt at Inga's middle, over her rounded, firm belly, and into the blonde patch on her mound. I scratched the fatty hump and plucked at her silken, curly hairs.

When I made my move to go down on her, I did it quickly. She gasped with delight as I spread her thighs wide and lifted them. I hooked them over my shoulders.

Her cunt was oozing with rich, warm honey when I pulled the large lips apart with my thumbs. I stuck out my tongue and lapped down into the wet, pink trough of flesh. Not bad!

I damn near drowned in her juice and in the heady aroma of her aroused twat. Her taste was sharp and good-good, that is, if you dig on the taste of fresh, young cunt. I do.

I lapped at it lingeringly, stimulating all the nerve ends of her vagina and the super-sensitive ones on the tip of her clitty. I stroked my tongue in and out of her small, elastic slit, making it larger and better able to accommodate my trusty dong, stallion that it had become.

Then I moved forward, keeping her legs against my shoulders. Her feet stuck straight up in the air.

When I touched the mouth of her pussy with my projecting prick, she moaned with delight. I applied a little pressure, and the pecker slid snugly into her quim-head, shaft and all, until my balls were dangling against her ass-hole.

Inga took all the meat I had to give. I twisted it and pumped it in and out of her hot, tight cunt, grunting with pleasure as I did so, and she responded with a series of ooh's and aah's, followed by something in Swedish that is no doubt considered obscene in Stockholm.

While we were thus engaged, the people from the patio drifted into the house.

If it hadn't been for the fact that Inga's stockinged legs were projecting upward, we might not have been noticed.

We were behind a sofa, don't forget. But those legs were a dead giveaway.

Voss and his employees gathered around and began making comments.

"Man, he sure knows how to screw!" said a girl.

"I wish I had his tiger in my tank right now," murmured another.

"He has no imagination," growled Tucker.

Voss chortled and breathed hard, predictably.

I couldn't be bothered with the audience. My whole world, in those moments, was comprised of Inga's sucking sliding cunt, and I was all cock as I enjoyed it, my whole being temporarily centered in the truncheon between my legs.

Funny how contagious disinhibition is. Just a few hours before, I would have been embarrassed to have hac anybody watch me while I screwed. Now I either (a) didn't mind or (b) enjoyed it. My attitude wavered between those two points while I was with Voss and his crowd.

Inga began to bump hard, and she clamped her legs down over my back. I let out another savage growl and screwed her to heat hell. Her titties bounced, the nipples-sticking up at me, red and hard.

"Look at 'em doooo it!" a girl said.

"Go, baby!" Voss exhorted, and I wasn't sure if that was meant for Inga or me ... or both of us.

Anyway, I gave it all I had and "went off, emptying my warmth into Inga's pussy. She throbbed around me, and I felt shivers passing through her whole, body. She sighed from the tips of her toes.

Her legs fell away from my back, and we lay still.

I pulled my wet, pooped pecker out of her crevice and stood up, with difficulty. Inga pushed down her skirt to cover her blonde, busy loins, but that was a silly gesture at that late moment.

As I put my peter back into my pants and zipped up, Voss threw an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm glad you're making yourself right at home, Hardy," he boomed. "That's the way I like my people to feel."

"Don't blame the girl," I told him.

"Blame her? Good Lord, I'll give her a raise! I might even let her play a part in my current film." He turned to his director. "She's got the tits for it-don't you think, Simon? And she has a real feel for screwing."

"She's a dog," he said, and looked at me.

"Now, wait a minute..." I bristled.

"Boys! Boys!" Voss moved between us. "Simon is blunt at times, but he's qualified to express a professional judgment. You and I aren't."

Some professional judgment, I thought, but I didn't say anything.

I hadn't been hired to start fights in Voss' house. And speaking of what I was hired for-it wasn't fucking, either.

Finally I went to work.

3

I got in touch with a contact at the phone company and asked him to quietly run a check on the lines leading to Voss' home. There were a half-dozen.

Then I sat down with Voss and quizzed him a little about his backers. He was close-mouthed. I asked him when I'd be able to meet the rest of his shooting crew, and he said they'd all be at the house that night for a barbecue out by the pool.

It seemed that Lisa, Voss' mistress, might be a key person to talk to, so I drew her aside at the first opportunity.

She was pleasant, but cool. Her smiles suggested that she found me a little humorous. Maybe she found the whole scene humorous. She impressed me as that sort of girl--the kind who stands a couple of paces behind her eyes and lives in her own private world.

She was wearing a white and orange sundress that exposed her smooth shoulders and most of her rounded, ripe titties. It was cut way down at the center and, when she turned a certain way, you could see a rim of nipple. Of course, those juicy tits quivered all the time.

It was enough to give a man a hard-on just from standing and talking with her. Also, she was free in her language, as were all the girls at the house, but I'd gotten used to that. Words like screw, cock and cunt tend to lose their eloquence after you've heard them a few times, even when they're dropped from a sweet, young, feminine mouth.

"What can you tell me," I asked by way of openers, "that might shed some light on the mysterious phone calls? "

"Not much," she said. "The caller sounds like a creep."

"You've talked to Voss' wife, I suppose."

She raised an eyebrow perceptibly.

"Do you think she could be the caller? " I asked.

She laughed.

"It's that funny, hm? " I commented.

"Afraid so. Irene Voss is the one who'd lose the most if Quentin went broke."

"I suppose that figures, but could she be motivated by jealousy? "

"Because Quentin screws around with me? Nonsense."

"She knows all about it and doesn't care? "

"Let me put it this way," Lisa said, smiling wisely. "She's ninety per cent computer and only ten per cunt ... if that."

I changed my tack.

"Simon Tucker-he's a strange one."

She didn't say anything, but she kept that little mocking smile on her face.

"I have a suspicion about him," I went on. "I think he doesn't like women a hell of a lot."

"You watched him screw April," she reminded me.

"Yeah, but think of the way he did it. And think of what he said about Inga."

"I wouldn't make any rash judgments about Simon, if I were you, Mr. Hardy. He's a complex creature and really very talented. I'll grant he's nasty, but there isn't a finer creator of crotch art in the motion picture industry."

"Crotch art-that's what you call it, hm?" I said with a smile.

"Call it what you like, Simon's the top man in the field." "I believe those are the same words Voss used." "I wouldn't be surprised. Voss would have to feel that way, considering what he pays the man."

"So Tucker also has a vital stake in this operation. He'd be hurt if it folded."

"You're very smart, Mr. Hardy," she mocked, while smiling pleasantly.

"Call me Dave."

"Incidentally," she said out of a clear sky, "Quent will probably want you to hump me tonight." "I beg your pardon? "

"He'll probably want you to screw me-at the barbecue." She smiled vivaciously.

"Hell!" I said. "You're his mistress."

"And he enjoys nothing more than watching another man with me."

"Jesus Christ," I exploded, "doesn't he ever do it himself?"

"Oh, we do it, as you euphemistically put it. And he does it with other girls. Sometimes he asks me to watch." I shook my head.

She laughed again. "You're too much, Mr. Hardy. I beg your pardon Dave."

"I'm pretty square, compared to you people,"! admitted.

"But there's hope for you," she said. "I liked the way you went after Inga."

"You didn't see the best part," I said, for some crazy reason.

"Oh? What happened before we walked in?" "Never mind."

"I can guess," Lisa said wisely. "That girl has a delicious pussy. I've sampled it myself."

I cleared my throat. "Well ... I guess there's not much more you can tell me about the threatening phone calls."

"Not much," she agreed, her dark eyes twinkling.

Something told me I ought to drop the case and head back to Los Angeles. This whole scene was too rich for my blood. But (a) the agency I worked for was making a fat fee, and (b) it looked like I was going to get all the cunt I could handle, as long as I hung in with Voss and company. Either of those reasons would have been enough to keep me on the job.

Money and cunt are this man's two strongest motivations, in case you haven't noticed. People like to talk about such abstracts as challenge, fulfillment and love, but it all boils down to what's in a guy's wallet and in his lady's pants. The rest sells cheaply in the marketplace of life.

End of philosophy.

Let me tell you about the gig that night.

I met the shooting crew, which was comprised of eight dudes-all young, hip or trying to be, and horny. Tucker ran them with a growl or a glance. He never had to say much, or much to say, for that matter.

There were a couple of male actors, also, on hand. (More were due on the morrow for the film's orgy scene, I understood.)

The barbecue was a private affair-as private as anything Voss ever did, which was pretty public otherwise.

There were an even half-dozen chicks, not including Lisa or the Swedish maid. They both got in on the party before it was over ... along with a couple of Mexican youths who helped around the house-and helped themselves to Lisa, no doubt. The cook-housekeeper was a middle-aged broad who stayed out of the action.

Voss barbecued the steaks himself.

One of the Mexican lads poured the beer and booze; Inga helped him serve it.

Drinking came first, then eating, then more drinking, then ... zap!! ! The orgy was on.

People started dropping into the pool, with and without their clothes on. Bare titties bobbed up and down the pool deck. Bushes began showing up. Dongs swung.

Dongs stood.

I was on a chaise with two girls keeping me company-which made me something of a hog, since there were more guys than girls at the bash. But could I help it if I was more attractive than most of those dudes. No, it wasn't that. I was, as Inga had said, new. That made me more attractive, for the moment.

Ginny was one of the girls who stuck with me. The other was a cute brunette named Norma.

I took Norma's blouse off before the evening got very old. I idly played with her tits while Ginny nibbled around my ears, neck and mouth. Once in a while, she would make a pass at my pants, testing my hard-on, but she didn't get really aggressive about it while the evening was young.

I reached under her skirt and petted her through the nylon crotch of her panties, rubbing lightly up and down her slit-teasing only. None of us were ready to get down to the nitty-gritty just yet.

We all watched the fun around us.

Guys chased girls up and down the deck. Most ended up in the water.

Panties and brassieres floated on the pool, along with men's pants and drawers. Girls got themselves upended in the water. I remember seeing Jane's beautiful bottom pop into view and disappear again as somebody pulled her under. She still had white briefs on. They clung to her ass and were made totally transparent (but for the elastic band) by the water. That sight was more stimulating, somehow, than if she'd been totally nude.

Lisa fell into the water.

A guy came by and pulled Ginny away from me.

Norma slid onto my lap. We kissed while I rubbed her tits. My cock burned against her bottom.

In a little while, I moved my kissing down to her nipples.

Jesus-I had never before sucked so many titties in such rapid succession! This was pair number four that I'd worked on since my arrival at the place.

As the evening grew a little older and the guests grew wetter (inside) and out), the pool lost its allure, and everybody got down to raw, hard-core sex. SEX!! !

My core was as hard as anybody's (speaking only of the men, of course). The girls' cores were soft, rosy and moist-and damned if most of them weren't on display by that time.

April, the girl who'd taken Tucker's prick in her ass-hole earlier that day, was down on the deck with a pair of studs. There seemed to be something about her short hair and pixie face that made the guys want to despoil her.

One guy laughed as he straddled her face and let his balls dangle against her mouth and nose. She sucked them in. The other worked on her cunt with a rubber phallus. That's right-a rubber phallus-while his own prong stuck out through his shorts.

He was just playing with her, rubbing the ersatz tool up and down her snatch, wiggling it in her soft, meaty hole, and not to be forgotten, nudging her clitty with it too.

Understandably, April was going a little wild.

Jane was spread-eagled on one of the male actors, screwing his up-thrust cock, while Simon Tucker squatted behind them and watched her pussy slide up and down on the guy's rod. He seemed to like to look at Jane's ass, also, while it wiggled and bobbed up and down. Tucker had a thing for asses.

A shrink might call it a sign of latent homosexuality on my part (which I vigorously deny!), but I couldn't help wondering if Tucker's interest in asses extended to male ones as well as female.

Voss was holding an expensive-looking still camera, with flashcube attached, shooting everybody while in the act.

(That cocksucker must have a hell of a collection of pornographic art!)

"Want to do it, baby? "Norma finally asked.

"You can feel my cock," I said. (I'd gotten so I was talking just like the rest of them.)

"It's been warming my butt for hours," she said, though she hadn't been sitting on me nearly that long.

"I'll bet your butt doesn't need much warming," I remarked. "Let's see. Stand up."

Obediently she stood, then looked down over her shoulder at me.

I lifted her skirt (she was the only girl who still had one on, except for Inga). Flowery, multi-colored panties clung to her ass. I pulled them down and placed my hand against her bare, quivery cheeks.

"Ooooo!"

"Hot, "I reported.

Laughing, I pulled her down across my lap. She squealed playfully. I pulled her pants all the way off and patted her bottom a little, with no intent to hurt her.

Tucker strolled over and watched. I noted there was no hump in the front of his pants, in spite of everything that was going on.

I let Norma squirm around and sit up. She kissed me hotly, plunging her tongue in and out of my mouth. I grasped one of her full tits and pulled on it. It shivered as my fingertips rubbed along its smooth skin to the crinkled crest.

"Get with it, Hardy!" Voss bellowed as he moved up to take a shot of Norma and me.

I might have resented becoming a subject for his pornographic art album, but I didn't. Shit, who could resent anything in an atmosphere like that? The bars were all down.

I rolled Norma off me and, as gently as possible, lowered her to the pool deck. I pushed my pants and shorts down to my knees.

I noticed a pair of female legs move in beside Voss. Glancing up, I saw Lisa's beautiful black bush and a lot cunt-lip, too. She had a beautiful cunt-but I've said that about all the girls, haven't I?

Well, it was true. I'd never seen so damned much pretty pussy in my life!

Lisa was talking to Voss. I couldn't make out what she said, but he immediately told me, "Screw Lisa, will you, Hardy? I wanta get a shot of that."

I said, "Shit!" and laughed a little.

I looked at Norma.

"Do what he says," she advised, good-naturedly. I got off her.

My glance swept across the pool and I noticed a couple going at it in the water. The guy had the girl's shoulders against the rim of the deck at the shallow end of the pool. Her titties were bobbing on the surface. Her legs were around his waist. He was pumping his meat in and out of her. They were literally making waves. He laughed and patted one of her titties, making it bob and quiver all the more.

Lisa got down on the deck with me. She still seemed to wear that knowing, half-superior smile.

I topped her.

Tucker and Voss watched, the latter snapping pictures, as I ran my hard cock into Lisa's ready crevice and began to screw her.

That was number four for the day. Fuck, I was living!

All around us the orgy raged. I got glimpses of hot action every time I raised my head or switched it from one side of Lisa's to the other.

A girl was on her hands and knees, getting her cunt screwed from the rear while she bobbed her head on another clown s cock.

That would have given Voss some excellent shots with his sophisticated Brownie, but he preferred to photograph me, humping his mistress. Kinky? I guess!

And speaking of kinks, Tucker had Norma sit on the chaise where she and I had been a short time before. He pulled his prick out of his pants and placed it in her hands. She bent and blew lightly at its tip. It hardened.

The next time I looked, she had taken the knob into her mouth and was chomping on it while she sucked. Spittle drooled from her lips and down her chin.

Tucker just stood there with a sardonic look on his face and watched her brown hairdo bob and twist.

I'd always thought of sex as a give-and-take thing, but he didn't seem interested in giving any pleasure to girls. Just the opposite, he seemed to enjoy hurting and degrading them.

I wondered if that showed up in his work. As far as I knew, I'd never seen one of his films, though I may have. I'd been to more nudie flicks than I cared to admit.

I worked hard with Lisa, and it was great fun! Because I'd come three times that day already, I had lots of reserve. I was able to deliver long, steady strokes for quite a while without giving in to the urge to speed up and finish it.

Lisa had her eyes closed and her face didn't show much but she was right with me, every second. Her hip motions were perfectly timed-not too strong, but just strong enough. Her hot cunt polished my prick to a fine edge of sensuality. I could feel everything as we stroked, stroked, stroked together.

Voss' flashcubes kept popping.

Frig him! I thought, but I wasn't mad about it.

Finally Lisa couldn't hold off any longer, and she shifted into high gear. She worked on my cock hungrily to get her gun off. She bumped and whined, and her pussy grabbed me spastically several times.

I tried to hold off so I could bring her to a second climax. That's what my ego requested ... but my body hollered, Now!! !

I went after her, screwing hard, and I came, twitching and groaning as the warm fluid flowed from my balls and out through the tip of my prick, pooling in her pussy.

She opened her eyes and smiled at me-quite warmly, this time.

I bent down and kissed her. Voss photographed that, the bastard.

The party went on and on.

Those outnumbered chicks got themselves screwed every which way, again and again. I felt a little sorry for them, but those were silly thoughts. All of them were free to split the scene whenever they wanted, as far as I knew. Money and excitement kept them there ... and maybe, also, the urge to be treated as they were being treated.

More kinks.

The last thing I saw before I trudged to my room was a tableau involving Inga, an actor, and a member of the crew. All were nude, of course. She straddled one guy and took his cock up her cunt, while the other approached her from behind and worked his pecker into her bunghole.

She managed to move a little, while whimpering and moaning (whether from pain, pleasure or both, I don't know), and the two studs pumped. I imagined how that must have been. Each of the guys could feel the other's cock moving, as well as the warmth and super-snugness of the chick with both those whangs jammed in her.

Too much.

I headed for bed.

As I entered the house, Ginny ran up to me.

"Want company?" she asked, running her slender arm around my waist.

"Not any more, honey," I said with a wan smile. "I just want sleep."

She seemed to understand.

It had been a hell of a day and a hell of a night. What the shit am I going to write in my report to the boss? I wondered. Arrived, interviewed Voss and others, got the lay of the land, I composed mentally.

I shook my head. I was so tired, I was getting silly. If I'd had the balls to report like that, I'd surely have gotten my ass fired.

I rolled into the sack and dropped right off to sleep.

4

One of my first thoughts, as I woke up the next day, was that Voss didn't need a director for his skin epic. He could have filmed the previous night's orgy, edited it to cut down the time, and sent it out with whatever few minor deletions the current censorship laws required.

But I was underestimating him. He took his art seriously-if you could call it art.

I found this out when I watched Tucker work with a couple of the girls that morning. I had to admit he was good. He squeezed every drop of eroticism out of the scene. Voss looked on approvingly, and it was obvious he appreciated the director's work. I presumed the audience would too.

The scene was a Lesbian bit involving Ginny and a new girl who'd just shown up that morning. She was gorgeously blonde on top, but she had a shaved cunt.

I settled down to watch beside Voss.

Shit. Settled down is the wrong way to put it. I was seated in a chair, but my prick had snapped to attention. It was as if it hadn't done a damned thing the day before.

(I've heard it said that cocks thrive on use, and maybe that's right.)

The two girls lay on a bed. Ginny wore black bikini briefs, but the new girl, whose name was Stacey, had stripped down to the buff. They were caressing and kissing.

Two cameras covered the scene from opposite sides of the bed. Tucker stood between them, at the foot of the bed, and gave instructions to the girls and the cameramen.

It sounded something like this:

"Okay, Gin. now start to get hot. Get hold of one of Stacey's knockers. That's the way. Squeeze it. Play with the nipple. Are you getting that, Art'. ' Move in! Tight shot. Stacey, hook a leg over Ginny's. Now slide it a little. No ... no! Not like you're scratching an itch. You're hot, dumbo! All right. That's bettor.

"Now, Joe, I want you to catch Ginny's face. Look like you mean it, girl. Yeah! Okay."

(Ginny probably did mean it. I remembered how she and Jane had gone at it in my room the day before.)

"Art, gimme a tight shot of Stacey's crotch," Tucker went on. "Raise your friggin' leg, girl! All right. Move in, Art. I wanta set every little fold in her pussy.

"Now, Ginny, get your hand down there. Pet her thigh. Now run your fingers over her cunt. Don't make it too obvious, but really touch her."

Ginny tried to do as requested, but she couldn't resist the temptation to pinch one of Stacey's smooth cunt-lips in passing.

"No ... no!" Tucker harked. "We'll have to cut that! You dumb broad, do what I tell you!"

Ginny gave him a dirty look, but no back-talk.

Voss watched, listened, and didn't say anything.

I hadn't had too many opportunities to gaze at a completely hairless female crotch. (In fact, I think that was my first.) So I studied Stacey's carefully, and my cock throbbed its appreciation.

I have nothing against hair, understand. I think hair enhances a pussy-they just seem to go together-but it was an interesting change to see one that was completely bald.

I saw it very completely, as would the film's audience. (Actually, the audience would probably see it a lot better than I did, because those cameras dollied in damn close.)

It's remarkable, the way movies have changed in the last few years. It hasn't been long since the hottest thing around was Doris Day, who always managed to elude the clutches of her make-believe boy friend at the bedroom door.

But back to Ginny and Stacey:

On the second take, Tucker got the shot he wanted of Ginny lightly touching the other girl's hairless cunt. Then the director growled, "Stacey, start petting Ginny's tits. Really go after 'em. Then bend down and start sucking the nipples. Lie on one hip and keep your thighs up, so the camera can keep shooting your snatch. Art, you stay down there ... and, Joe, gimme some tight shots of the titty play. When Stacey goes down for a suck, I wanta see her lips working on those friggin' nipples.

"Okay . . .action!"

Voss was eagle-eyed now, and I have to admit I stared pretty hard myself. (Speaking of hard ... wow, my happy cock!)

Strangely enough, Tucker and his two cameramen showed no sign of erections. I guess they were dedicated to their work.

Stacey treated Ginny's nipples tenderly, rubbing and tonguing them. She clasped each in turn within her mouth and gave it a long, juicy suck, pulling upward slightly on Ginny's small boobs.

It was very erotic.

Tucker then instructed Stacey to proceed downward along Ginny's body, kissing and caressing. The cameras kept grinding.

Stacey wiggled her rear, her split on full display every minute. It seemed to me it was getting moist, but maybe that was my imagination. As closely as Art was photographing it, the film would show her honey if there was any.

"Stacey, pull down Ginny's pants," the director ordered.

The bald-cunted blonde did so, baring the other girl's reddish patch of curls.

Just then one of the cameramen stopped filming and said, "Gotta reload."

"Okay, cut!" barked Tucker.

Everyone relaxed except the two cameramen, who went to work on their equipment (mechanical, that is). A telephone rang.

I stiffened. (I mean, the rest of me. My cock had been stiff for some time.)

Voss looked ominously in the direction of the next room, where the phone was jangling. It stopped, and we heard one of the technicians say, "Hello."

In a moment, he appeared in the doorway. "Ginny, it's for you," he announced.

She looked at Voss, then at me, then slowly slid off the bed, pulling her pants back into place. I jumped up, oblivious of my hard-on (which was now subsiding anyway), and followed her into the other room.

"I'm afraid," she confided to me in a whisper as she reached for the phone.

I whispered back, "Nobody can hurt you on the telephone. Keep him talking as long as you can."

I hoped to hell the phone company monitor was working.

Everyone gathered around.

Ginny lifted the receiver and said tremulously, "Yes-who is it?"

I drew the receiver a little hit away from her ear and put mine close, to hear what the calling party said.

The voice was weird. It sounded neither masculine nor feminine, neither old nor young. It was hard to pinpoint any characteristic about it, but it was obvious that a purpose, and more than a slight bit of intelligence, lay behind it.

It said, "I know Voss hired an investigator. He thinks he can trap me, but that's stupid. This is your second call, girl. Quit Voss today, or you won't live to see midnight."

The phone clicked and the dial tone sounded.

"Son of a bitch!" I exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said in a distraught voice, on the verge of tears. "I couldn't hold him on the line. I didn't have a chance to say a thing. Ooh, God! What am I gonna doooo?"

Whoever was making those calls had a good pipeline into Voss' home. Otherwise he wouldn't have known about my presence there.

Something else about the call had struck me. The speech had seemed canned, as if it was being mechanically broadcast. The caller hadn't given Ginny an opportunity to say anything, and the tone had been flat, impersonal. A recording process could have accounted for some of the distortion, too.

Ginny was shaking like a leaf.

I didn't blame her. That goddamned call had been eerie, and whoever had made it had sounded as if he or she meant business.

This was the first time, as I understood it, that a threat of death had been made.

I asked Ginny for confirmation on this point, but she just turned and fled down the hall, her little butt waggling.

"What did he say, Hardy?" Voss demanded.

"Said she'd be killed before midnight, if she didn't quit you. Whoever it is knows I'm on the case."

"But how?" Voss bellowed.

"Obviously the caller is somebody in this house or has a contact here."

"Well, it couldn't be anybody who's here right now," Tucker interjected-purposefully, I thought.

I told him I wasn't so sure.

He glared at me.

"Don't let Ginny leave," Voss implored me. "I can't finish the film without her." "She's that vital?"

"Damned right. If we lost her, we'd have to re-shoot most of the scenes with another girl in her role, or the whole story line would be loused up.

I headed down the hall to the room she shared with a couple of the other girls.

"I'm not gonna take any more of this shit!" she was saying as she threw a suitcase onto a bed. "The loot isn't worth it!"

Jane was there beside her, wearing the usual bikini bottom. Her titties were sticking out, bare as grapefruit on a bough (but a hell of a lot prettier).

"Hey, wait a minute!" I exclaimed. "Don't be a quitter."

"I like you, Dave," she said as she went about her packing, "but you've just got a job to do. I have to look out for my skin."

"It's very pretty skin," I said, and ran my hand along her side.

She looked up at me.

"I'll stay with you every minute," I promised. "Nobody'll have a chance to get to you."

She wavered, then turned back to her packing. "I know you mean it," she said, "but I think whoever's behind this will find a way tc do what he says."

"Hasn't it occurred to you that he hasn't hurt anyone so far? There've been a lot of threats, but no action."

"Yeah, but..."

"I think you're right, baby," Jane said, moving up to her. "You'd better not hang around here. Who knows what might happen? No offense, Dave, but you can't guarantee her safety. Nobody can."

Ginny resolutely continued packing.

I could see J wasn't getting anywhere.

I turned and left the room. Voss and the others were lounging around in the bedroom where the shooting had been in progress.

"Well?" Voss demanded as I strode in.

"How soon do you need her again, figuring at the outside?" I asked.

"Now. Yesterday. Shit, we're behind schedule as it is!"

"But you wouldn't have to complete this bedroom scene today, would you? What if I could get her back before the orgy? Would you be held up too badly?"

Voss jumped up. "Are you tellin' me she's walkin' out right now?" he shrieked.

I glanced at Tucker. He was watching us closely, his face intent but otherwise expressionless.

"She's made up her mind," I said. "I'm afraid I can't stop her. But I can go with her and bring her back, I believe."

"Shit!" exclaimed Voss. "If you can't keep her here, how can you bring her back?"

I half expected Tucker to speak up and say he needed her right away, but he didn't. That was strange, I thought, because he'd been stopped right in the middle of a scene.

"I'll do my best, Mr. Voss," I assured the producer. "That's all anyone can do."

"Your best isn't very good, Hardy." That was Tucker, finally talking. He looked at me with a sneer on his face.

I ignored the barb and returned to Ginny's room for a last attempt to keep her from leaving.

I caught my breath and came to a quick stop in the doorway.

Ginny and Jane were saying good-bye. Tenderly.

They lay on the bed, clasped in each other's arms. Their mouths were pressed together. They were kissing with all the passion of a man and a woman.

Neither of them saw me right away, but it wouldn't have made any difference if they had. They were as totally uninhibited about Lesbian love as they were about everything else.

Jane slid her hand into Ginny's panties and rubbed her furry mound. Jane's fingers slid further, delving deeply into Ginny's crotch. It was interesting to watch Ginny's dark bikini briefs move with the action of the hand inside them.

Jane's lips surrounded one of Ginny's pale, up-thrust nipples and sucked gently. I watched Jane's cheeks and throat working.

There was an exciting play of emotion across Ginny's face. With one hand, she caressed Jane's blonde head. With the other, she milked at a soft, dangling mammary.

I was aroused again. I moved into the room and closed the door behind me. Hearing it click, both girls stopped what they were doing and looked rny way. This was the time for Ginny to tell me to flake off if she really didn't want me around. But she gave me a warm little smile and said, "There's room for three on this bed."

Jane also seemed willing, so I took my clothes off. I didn't know if Jane and I were saying good-bye to Ginny or if the three of us were just getting acquainted all over again.

I lay down between the girls, and they kissed and petted me while they continued to make love to each other. Jane would kiss me on the mouth, neck and chest, then lean across me to smooch with Ginny. I had four titties hanging above me, and I lifted both hands to them. It was quite a study in contrasts-Jane's large boobs next to Ginny's small ones. I enjoyed them all at the same time.

Ginny began to kiss me on the belly. I slid her pants down at the back and shallowly ran my middle finger up and down her ass-groove.

Jane pulled the front of Ginny's briefs down to her thighs and caressed her red-haired cunt. I drew down Jane's bikini while she licked one of my nipples into pebble-like hardness. I caressed her hair-lined slit.

My cock was up, of course,, and Ginny began to stroke it gently while she sucked and licked all around my navel.

I pulled Jane down for a kiss and squeezed one of her titties as my finger slid easily in and out of the warm cove between her thighs. Ginny began to kiss up and down my pecker.

Jane checked to see what her girl friend was doing, then bent to join Ginny at my up-thrust prick. Both girls licked it, and the most delightful throbs of pleasure rolled through my body. I felt two pairs of female lips nibbling at the head of my dong. I squeezed my eyes shut and grimaced with the sheer joy of it.

Suddenly the nibbling ceased, and I no longer felt the girls' warm breath against my organ. The hand that had been holding my cock upright let it go. I opened my eyes and saw the girls kissing each other on the mouth and fondling each other's tits. My stiff cock jerked. It needed something right away.

I sat up and pried the babes apart.

"I'll suck him off while you do the same for me," Ginny suggested to Jane.

"I will if he will," Jane said. Her blue eyes regarded me speculatively.

"You do eat pussy, don't you?" Ginny asked, her tone indicating that a positive answer was a foregone conclusion.

"Right now I'll do anything," I said. "Let's get on with it!"

"Mmmmm," Jane purred, and dove between Ginny's thighs.

Ginny dropped her head to my dong.

I snuggled between Jane's plump, warm thighs.

With Ginny's experienced mouth doing wild things to the knob of my pecker, I didn't have to be coaxed to go after Jane's juicy, wild smelling cunt. My tongue slid in and out of her slick slit. She blubbered into Ginny's snatch and shoved her own twat harder against my avaricious mouth.

For the next few minutes, I lived, breathed, sucked and ate pussy. Ginny's marvelous tongue moved around my cockhead, riding the groove just behind the ridge. It fluttered against the tip of my prick and gently massaged the sensitive area underneath. Her mouth sucked as her head bobbed; her teeth nibbled lightly.

I could only guess at the pleasure Jane was giving Ginny all that time.

As I approached a climax, I sucked at Jane's meaty vulva with greater ardor. I swallowed more of her rich juice. She began to bump against my face. I felt the internal muscles of her pussy quiver.

She was coming. (If she hadn't, I'd have worried.)

Her action at Ginny's cunt at that moment must have been wild, for Ginny began to bob her head more rapidly on my cock. With her teeth scraping it and her tongue fluttering while she sucked, I could hold out no longer.

I jerked and spewed my cream upward, in a fountaining burst of glorious virility, which merely caught in her throat. (Wasted seed? Hardly-there's plenty more where that came from.) I felt her muscles work as she gulped it. She made a gurgling sound. My prick continued shooting until my balls were empty.

Ginny had obviously come during my ejaculation.

The tension had gone out of all three of us and was trickling down our legs.

Ginny sucked gently at the tip of my pecker, ran her tongue over it a final time, then sat up.

"I've gotta finish packing," she said with a small sigh.

"I'm going with you," I told her.

"But how can you? You've got a job to do here." "Frig the job. I want you/"

"Dave..." she murmured, and snuggled into my arms for a kiss.

I could taste my cream in her mouth. Not bad.

5

Ginny's hot little sports car streaked across the sun-bleached face of the desert. I sat in the right-hand bucket.

She wore shorts and a clingy top. My hand was up between her thighs, tickling the ever-warm lips of her pussy. My cock was hard again, of course.

"Where the shit are we?" I asked.

"Near this place I know," she yelled back. Her red hair whipped in the warm breeze. "That bastard on the phone will never find me there."

"What kind of place is it?"

"A hideaway, it's in a little canyon in those hills." She pointed off to the left.

"Who lives there?" I wanted to know.

"An old girl friend of mine," she said. "The guy she's married to is a writer. He bought a cabin up here so he could get away from the klack of the city."

"Maybe he won't appreciate our dropping in on him."

"Tough shit," she said. "I've gotta go somewhere."

"You've gotta get back to Voss. He's counting on you."

She threw me a sharp look. "If you came along just to work on me that way, you might as well head back right now.

"Baby...! " I said, and pinched her pussy lovingly. "I came along to help you."

"Then quit talking about Voss."

She braked the car sharply, swerved onto a dirt road, and we humped along, in the direction of the naked, low-lying hills.

My job was hanging by the proverbial thread. If I didn't get Ginny to change her mind quickly and return to Voss' home for the orgy scene he wanted to shoot that night, he'd have no further use for me ... or for the agency from whom I drew my weekly bread. Bad news. I was going to have to work a miracle and do it damned fast.

It was a surprise when we rounded a turn in those seemingly desolate hills and looked down on a lovely pocket of lush vegetation. There were palm trees glistening in the sun, green grass, a profusion of bright flowers, and a little frame shack beside a pool of clear, blue water.

"That's a hidden spring," Ginny said, as she carefully guided her small car down the narrow road toward it.

"Pretty spot," I commented.

She honked her horn as we approached the cabin. I saw a girl's head appear at one of the open windows. When we pulled to a top, the front door of the shack flew open, and a girl with long black hair came running out.

Her naked tits bobbed up and down between the shining dark strands thai hung to her waist, on both sides of her shoulders. She wore a red scarf between her legs. It was knotted at each hip in the original, authentic bikini style.

"Ginny!" she cried, as she ran over to our car. "What a surprise!"

The girl's eyes were on me.

Ginny hopped out of the car. "Hi, Diana," she said. "I'm in trouble. Can I stay here awhile?"

Diana kept watching me. "Sure. Arnie's trying to finish a book, but he won't mind. Just don't talk to him." She laughed, showing white, firm teeth. "Who's this?" She grinned at me.

"Diana Lowenthal, Dave Hardly," Ginny introduced. "Hi, Dave," the brunette said warmly, and put out a tanned, slender hand.

I held it and said, "Nice to know you." She gave my hand a little squeeze.

"What kind of trouble are you in, kid?" Diana asked, as she and Ginny walked toward the cabin, with me tagging behind.

"It's a long story," Ginny said. "Lemme have a drink first, will you? I'm dying of thirst." "Sure thing."

They entered the house. I followed. The place wasn't much-just one big room-but it was clean and cheerful, with bright pillows scattered around and psychedelic posters on the wall. A bed was at one side of the room, a small stove and kitchen cabinets at the other, and right in the center a plump, bearded man sat at a typewriter.

He was naked.

He scowled at Ginny and me. "Oh, no!" he groaned.

"Take it easy, Arnie," Diana said. "We'll keep out of your way. Oh, this is Dave Hardy. Dave-my husband, Arnie."

"Hi." I grinned uneasily.

"Are you Ginny's latest?" he asked.

"Just a friend," I said.

"Well, glad to know you ... I suppose." He waved an arm and turned his attention back to his typewriter.

"I'll pour us some drinks," Diana whispered, "then we'll have to go out on the grass."

"Speaking of grass..." Ginny said close to Diana's ear, but I caught it.

"Shhhh," was the only answer she got.

The drinks were red wine, which I didn't much care for. We walked outside.

It was pleasant under the palms. We sank down onto the lush lawn. We heard Arnie's typewriter clicking in the cabin.

"So, what're you running from?"

The latter gave her a quick rundown, while I studied the exotic brunette. Diana sat with her legs apart, carelessly allowing a few strands of black pubic hair to escape from the narrow crotch of her improvised bikini. Her tits were full and highly-mounted, tapering out and upward to thrusting, red nipples.

My prick was thinking of arising once more.

Maybe it's all some kinda joke," Diana said, referring to the phone calls.

"Listen-you didn't hear that voice!" Ginny told her. "It was spooky!"

"How do you fit into this?" Diana asked me.

"I'm a private investigator," I said, and added, sheepishly, "I'm supposed to be solving the case."

"Then at the risk of sounding inhospitable-what the shit are you doing here?"

She laughed in a friendly fashion, but she straightened her head a little and her eyes glinted, as if she felt the question had required asking.

"Frankly, I'm trying to persuade Ginny to go back. There's a picture to finish."

"What'd you bring him along for?" Diana asked her old girl friend.

"I like him." Ginny gazed at me warmly.

I reached over and took her hand.

"Ooooh," Diana said. Her dark gaze settled on me again, and those eyes kind of melted.

We finished our wine, and Diana got up to get some more. I watched her ample ass twist in her not-so-ample bikini. To tell the truth, her ass was more out than in.

I glanced back at Ginny and discovered she'd been watching me as I watched Diana.

"Don't touch her," Ginny said. "At Voss' place, anything goes. Here it's different; she's Arnie's."

"She's been giving me the come-on," I parried.

"That's your ego talking," Ginny thrust.

"Well, look what she's showing off!"

"She and Arnie are nudists. He makes her wear something over her pussy while he's working, though ... says it distracts him to see it moving around."

"I should think so!"

Diana returned with a jug of vina and refilled our glasses. As she bent forward, her ripe tits dangled and quivered. I wanted to grab at them, but didn't.

I sneaked a look at my watch. That miracle I had to pull was overdue.

Ginny's remark about ego suggested a tack I might take. Women have egos that are every bit as powerful as men's.

"Diana," I said, "how'd you like to go back to Voss' place with me and take over Ginny's pari in the film?"

She blinked.

Ginny stared at me.

"You're a beautiful chick," I told Diana. "Voss oughta be more than pleased with you."

"Now, wait a minute..." Ginny interjected.

"You don't care, do you, honey?" I asked her. "You want out. Diana's a natural to take over the part. So what if she's never acted? In a skin flick, it doesn't matter. She's certainly got the right kind of body for the job."

"Yeah, but..." Ginny looked at the other girl.

Diana read the message. She told me, "I don't think..."

"You don't have to think," I said, cutting her off. "This could be the start of a swinging career. Come on. Put a bra around those pretty knockers and let's go." I jumped to my feet.

Diana was being torn in two separate directions. She didn't want to offend Ginny, but the idea of starring in a nudie appealed to her. She was a show-off by nature.

Ginny was pissed.

She jumped up, her unbrassiered boobs bobbing in her snug blouse. "How dare you make Diana a proposition like that, Dave Hardy!"

"Well, somebody's gotta help Voss out of the hole he's in," I said.

"Are you really through with the film?" Diana asked her friend.

Ginny's lips quivered. I watched her hopefully. "Are you or not?" I prodded.

Her eyes snapped as she glared at me. "You are the world's biggest fink!"

"I don't know why you say that," I maintained. "I'm trying to protect you and look out for Voss at the same time. After all, he's paying me."

"You wouldn't really go to work for Voss, would you?" she asked Diana.

The brunette lifted a lock of shining hair over her shoulder. "Well, if there's an opportunity ... and if it doesn't mean anything to you ... I mean, if you're quitting anyway..."

Ginny knew somebody else would be tabbed for her part in the film, and that didn't bother her, so long as it was someone she didn't know. But to have the part go to an old friend who was no actress but had a better body than she did-that was too much to take.

She told me, "Come on, you bastard-we're going back."

Diana looked disappointed.

Just then Arnie emerged from the shack, his dong bobbing atop his balls. He grinned.

"Well, I finished it!" he announced. "I just have to do some polishing, then it goes into the mail. We eat for another month."

He gave his wife a slap on the ass.

"Hey, what's the matter?" He looked around. "Why so glum, chum?"

Ginny was angry with me, but she was even angrier with

Diana for being so willing to profit by her misfortune, and it spiked her vanity to think of Diana making a hit in a role that belonged to her.

So, she was going back to do her thing and accept the risks attached to it.

But, first, she was going to repay Diana for being a bitch. If Diana could make a grab for her film role, she could make her own grabs, namely...

Arnie.

He was vulnerable as he stood there, bare-assed.

Ginny moved over to him. "Congratulations on finishing your book," she said, pressing her lithe form against his corpulence.

"Hey ... what's this?" was all he could manage to utter before Ginny's warm mouth sealed itself against his lips. Undoubtedly she Frenched him.

Arnie's arms wavered in midair for a few moments, then folded around her as her kiss got to him and overcame the inhibition caused by his wife's presence.

Diana just stared, and so did I. She probably appreciated as well as I did why her old chum was behaving in this way.

Ginny ground her pelvis against Arnie's cock and balls. One of his pudgy hands slid down onto her butt, and he pinched it through her thin shorts.

"Well!" Diana exclaimed, and looked at me.

I grinned.

When I moved to take her into my arms, she accepted me willingly. Our mouths met-tentatively at first, then my tongue parted her lips and slid into her warm, moist oral cavity. Her tongue snaked against mine.

I slid my hand down her bare back and onto the hanky-thin scarf which didn't quite cover her ass. She had large rounded cheeks. I petted and rubbed them, and my cock rose strongly against her stomach. I had more cock than Arnie; I figured she might appreciate that.

I wasn't wrong. (I never am, as you've probably already noticed.)

As I tucked both sides of her handkerchief-line bikini into the crack of her ass, she began panting and ran a hand down between us to investigate the big dick that was poking at her.

I gripped both bare cheeks of her fanny and squeezed them. She caressed my dong through my pants.

Arnie cast aspersions at us as he and Ginny sank to the grass. He was obviously hurt because his wife was going for another man, but he could hardly say much about it because he was in the act of going for another broad-and that was the most important damned thing in the world to him right then.

I caught a glimpse of his stiff prick. It was unimpressive.

Well, Ginny knew where to come when she wanted real meat. I had no doubt that she'd come my way again. (Ho-hum!)

Diana and I got down onto the lawn, not far from Ginny and Arnie. I opened a knot of her bikini and lay the cloth aside. She had a gorgeous black bush that was so thick it completely hid the lips of her cunt.

I petted her pussy and was returned a purr.

Her anxious hand clawed at the front of my pants.

Arnie slid Ginny's shorts off and found nothing underneath them but her-which was just the way he liked it. He bent to her belly immediately and began kissing around.

"Ooooo, your beard tickles!" I heard her exclaim with a laugh.

As he licked and sucked at the smooth flesh just below her navel, he reached up and worked her knit blouse up from her tits. Her hard nipples stuck straight up. His fat hand passed over them, rubbing them this way and that.

By this time, Diana had my cock out and was stroking it.

I unknotted the other side of her bikini and lay the cloth on the grass. I spread her legs wide and hunkered down into the warm, aromatic valley of her thighs. I nuzzled her muff, and she oooo'd.

Arnie had worked his way into Ginny's sparse, red hush by now.

I heard her say, "Ooh, kiss it, baby! Lick it! I love to be eaten!"

Diana obviously wanted to be eaten, also.

Shit, show me a babe who doesn't like to have her pussy tongued, and I'll show you a frigid witch or one who's so inhibited that she's her own worst enemy.

With Diana's tanned thighs spread wide, at both sides of my head, I carefully rubbed the thick, black fur away from her split. The outer lips of her cunt were rather dark. I caught those elastic, plushy labia with my thumbs and spread them, exposing her palpitating inner pinkness. It was running with honey already.

"Oooh, Dave!" she cried, as I sank my mouth into the luscious pudding of flesh.

My tongue thrust as far as it could reach up her snug little channel, withdrew, and thrust again. She stirred and moaned. I reached up and kneaded her big, beautiful boobs. What large, springy masses they were, yet they were so shapely and firm.

I rubbed them as I squeezed, sliding my fingers out to their extended tips. I rolled the rubbery nipples and pulled at them as I tongued Diana's sweet cunt.

I wondered if Ginny was getting it as good from Arnie.

Maybe.

Hell, maybe he was tonguing her better than I was doing his wife. Short-petered guys sometimes compensate for their lack of cock by learning to be great French culturisls.

I cunnilingued up and down the wet, sticky trough of Diana's cunt, stretching its smooth, elastic flesh ... licking at her clit ... bringing the nubbin up hard ... sliding my tongue in and out of her hole ... again ... again...

She moaned and sobbed and writhed against my lips.

When I fastened them to the lips of her pussy and sucked, she wailed and pressed hard against me. Her legs bicycled at both sides of my head, the satin thighs rubbing my cheeks.

I grasped one of those legs and pushed it up and out. I licked down through her crotch to the bottoms of her buttocks, where I nibbled around.

I turned her onto her belly and framed the cheeks of her ass between my hands. Slowly I tightened a grip on them, squeezed the springy cushions, bent and kissed one of them moistly.

She ooo'd some more, and I felt her shiver with delight.

She seemed to enjoy that so much that I lost my head and pressed my face directly into the slit of her soft ass. I flickered my tongue in her warm, narrow ass crack, and she shook her buttocks against my face.

The scent of her ass-hole, which came teasingly through the blend of cologne and female arousal, served as a stimulant in my present state, and I threw her onto her back again.

I scrambled forward, between her legs, which eagerly lifted at either side of me. I patted her round, bouncy tits, causing them to wobble to and fro, and plucked and pulled at her nipples.

When I bent my face to one of those beauties to grab a suck, Diana gripped my prick and directed it down into the soft, wet mouth of her twat. I shoved my hips forward and sank my cock into her while I sucked her titty.

"Ooooh!" she exclaimed. "It's lonnnng!"

I switched tits, mauling the new one lightly with my hand and chasing the bobbing nipple with my eager mouth. My tongue snaked out around it and I sucked it up. I chewed and sucked on the titty while Diana writhed with my prick inside her.

I began to screw her. (Ah! The word is so appropriate.) Her long, shapely legs came up around me and clamped snugly. She pumped her pussy around my driving dick.

I dug the toes of my shoes into the ground for greater leverage. I gave her all my prick in long, strong, evenly-spaced thrusts. She moaned and tossed her head from side to side in the grass, her black hair whipping.

She was a hell of a lot of woman, and I enjoyed her to the hilt, sinking my cock balls-deep into her pussy each time I thrust. I rotated my rod in her wet, warm, elastic hole. I stroked it in and out. She drubbed my ass and thighs with her heels.

She shrieked, "Ooh, screw me! Screw meeee!"

"Baby, I'm giving you all I've got!" I rasped.

"It's wonderful!" she panted. "Don't stop! Never stop! Ooh, loverrr!"

I threw a quick glance at the other couple. Arnie was sitting in the grass with a stupid look on his face. Ginny had her face in his lap doing what she did best-giving head.

Arnie gazed at Diana and me, but I wasn't sure he was seeing much or comprehending what he saw. With Ginny's tongue sliding over his cockhead and her sucking lips at work on it, he could be forgiven for temporary blindness.

I bore into Diana even harder, powering my prick to the very bottom of her cunt-hole. Down and up. In and out. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.

Our bellies slapped.

My balls crashed against her hairy crotch. Her titties did a wild dance. I grasped one and shook it even more wildly.

"Pull my nipple!" she shrieked.

I gripped the tall, rubbery stud between my thumb and finger. I squeezed it, rolled it and pulled upward on it as I continued to screw her hard. She sobbed with intense pleasure.

It was great to hump her like that on the grass, under an open sky, feeling a breeze on my bare ass. (I didn't think right then about my trousers bunched up underneath my knees, getting grass-stained.)

I twisted and stroked my hard cock in her happy hole, and we approached a breathless climax. She came first, gasping, then moaning, finally uttering a deep sigh my pecker twitched, and my come gushed into her.

I flattened myself against her springy tits and sucked at her mouth as her tongue shot upward in mine. My balls gave up every ounce of cream they had.

I turned my head to look at Ginny and Arnie.

She was on her back and he had his head down between her thighs, eating her pussy. No doubt he'd finished in her mouth before, and now he had to bring her to a climax this way.

She seemed to enjoy it. Why not?

On the drive back to Voss' home she said, "We're through, you and me. You'll never touch me again." "Don't make such rash statements, honey." "No, I mean it. We're through."

"You went for Arnie before I made a play for Diana," I pointed out.

"I don't care about that. I don't like the way you went about getting me to go back to Voss."

"I really believe it's for your own good."

"The shit you do!"

That seemed to be the end of that.

6

As it turned out, my effort was for nothing. Voss and Company were breaking up camp when Ginny and I arrived.

"The girls got together," he told me sadly. "They're all walking out."

"What happened? Did another one get a call? "

"Two of them-Lisa and April. Both calls were death threats. Thanks for getting Ginny to come back, but it was a waste of time."

"How's Simon taking this?" I wanted to know.

"Ask him."

The tall, skinny director was packing some photographic equipment. I walked over to him.

"Tough luck about the picture," I said.

He looked at me, said nothing, and went back to his packing.

"What happens now?" I inquired.

"Don't bug me, Hardy. Get your scoop from Voss."

"You don't have to be nasty about it."

He straightened up and faced me. His eyes glinted. He pronounced two words distinctly, "Bug off!"

I shook my head and walked away from him.

A couple of the girls drifted into the room, fully dressed. It was the first time I'd seen them that way.

"I hope you realize there's nothing personal about this, Mr. Voss," one of them said.

"Sure, sure," he told her. "I can hardly blame you." I headed into the house, looking for Lisa. I found Inga instead.

She was doing the maid thing-dusting, straightening accessories on a long, gleaming table, and looking a little sad. When she saw me her young, pretty face brightened for a moment.

"Hello, honey," I said, and patted her on her starched black skirt. The firm, bouncy ass beneath threatened to turn me on again.

"Are you leaving, too?" she inquired earnestly, in her cute Swedish accent.

"Afraid so."

"It's going to be so lonely." Her blue eyes regarded me plaintively.

"You have the Mexican boys to play with."

"Not when Mr. Voss is not here. Then I am alone with the housekeeper. Ugh."

I grinned. "Things could always be worse."

"Not much." She snuggled into my arms. "Ooh, Dave, love me one more time! I need it now!"

"But, baby..."

"Please."

Her warm mouth completed the process of persuasion. Her soft lips trembled against mine. Her eager tongue slid into my mouth.

My restless hands pulled up her skirt and filled themselves with the warm curves of her panty-sheathed ass. I fondled her ass lovingly as my tongue chased hers back into her mouth. She nibbled and sucked on my tongue. I pulled her panty elastic down and wrapped my hands around her smooth, naked buttocks.

My cock came up. (What else?)

Shit, this was number three for the day already, and it was only half gone.

But with all this willing cunt around, what was a stud to do but screw it?

I kept one hand on Inga's ass, spanning both quivery buttocks and jiggling them gently. I raised the other hand to the zipper which ran down her back.

I pulled down the zipper tab and opened the hooks of her brassiere. When I pulled her dress away, her bra came with it. She was naked to the waist and, below that, wore a white, flouncy petticoat which ended above her stockinged knees.

She was a lovely picture, half-dressed that way, with her bountiful, pink-tipped titties sticking out.

I wrapped a hand around each of them, lifted and squeezed. She looked downward, hot-eyed, and watched what I was doing. I rubbed her tits as I squeezed them, enjoying their smooth-skinned firmness. Finally I had hold of only her nipples. I rolled and plucked at the plump, rubbery studs. Pulling them forward, I used them as tiny handles to swing and shake her full boobs.

"Oooh, bay-bee, you are turning me on!" she panted.

"Look what you've done to me," I husked.

Gazing downward between her tits, which I stretched rather far apart, she appreciated the hump in my pants. Her gentle hand cupped it.

She titillated, Ooooo!" and fumbled for the tab of my zipper.

She pulled the zipper down, fished into my Jockey briefs, and pulled my prick out. She skinned its rosy, throbbing head.

"I love your cock!" she gushed passionately.

Before I could stop her (as if I wanted to!) she dropped to her knees on the carpet in front of me.

She bent my prick downward slightly and touched its moist tip to each of her thrusting, taut nipples. Then she caught the cockhead between her tits and rubbed it voluptuously by working her titties up and down in her hands.

I slid my hands into her short, blonde hair.

She bent, pursed her pale-pink lips, and planted a sweet, girlish kiss on the tip of my cock. It jerked. She laughed happily at the response and snaked her tongue out, sliding it around the plump, blood-choked cockhead. Old one-eye panted.

I stood there throbbing with delight while she licked up and down my pecker, then down over my wrinkled balls. She bit at my long, dark nut-hairs.

"Baby . . .baby,. . . ! " I said.

She fit her mouth over the knob of my prick and sucked as she bobbed her head.

Sweet Jesus, that was good!

The girls who'd been talking to Voss when I was on the patio drifted back into the house. I saw them out of the corners of my eyes, but pretended not to. They stopped. One of them gasped and the other uttered an exclamation of delight.

They remained to watch.

I was getting so excited, I feared I would shoot my load into Inga's throat in a few moments if she didn't stop cocksucking me. I didn't know of any nicer throat to empty my cream into, but right then I felt like frigging. I wanted to sink my prick into Inga's tight little pussy for one last time.

I placed my hands under her jaws and lifted her hungry mouth off my cock. A gleaming string of saliva stretched from the wet, red prickhead to her departing lips. Finally it broke.

She looked up at me pleadingly. "Lie down," I said huskily.

She obeyed, pulling up her petticoat so I could admire her lush, stockinged legs ... her bare thighs above the hose ... her white garter straps traveling upward to the belt she wore beneath her pink, silken panties.

Those pants clung to the gentle curve of her belly and the mound of her cunt. The nylon was moist where it pressed against her split.

As I stripped my clothes off, I glanced at the girls who were watching. A couple of male technicians had moved up behind them to watch, also.

I took off everything but my socks. Then I got down onto the carpet with Inga.

I pulled her pants down, exposing her adorable, blonde-fringed cunt. I pushed her legs far apart, and the passion-puffed lips of her pussy opened. Her inner pinkness gleamed at me invitingly.

I had to give it at least one loving kiss.

I worked my hands under her buttocks and gripped those smooth, springy masses. I lifted her, and she hooked her legs over my shoulders.

"Ooooooooo..." I heard one of the watching girls say, as I bent to the open gash of Inga's sweet snatch.

I stuck out my tongue and lapped lightly at the luscious cunt.

Judging by what I saw later, I imagine that at this point the two technicians approached the actresses from the rear, probably first sliding their hands over the girls' throbbing tits. As the men rubbed and rolled those titties (which no doubt were unencumbered by brassieres) their cocks probably pressed against the girls' soft-firm asses.

With such stimulation on both sides, it was understandable why the girls (who were all dressed to leave) allowed themselves to be drawn down onto the carpet and stripped.

But back to Inga and me

My tongue twirled Inga's quivering clitty, and she panted with pleasure.

I raised my head and moved fully over her, gripping a firm, pliant titty in each hand, forcing her pink nipples high. I turned from one to the other, licking and sucking.

Inga grasped my fat, long cock.

When I was ready to sink my meat into her slick crevice, she'd already tilted the red torpedo downward and worked its tip into her enfolding flesh. I gave a thrust of my hips, and the prick slid smoothly up her cunt, all the way. Inside she was like melted butter.

I screwed her slowly and feelingly, watching her passion-contorted, sweet, young face while I twisted and stroked my rod in her bod. What a wonderful little box it was-so snug yet smoothly greased! I thrust in and out, round and round, in and out some more.

She panted as her hips rose and fell against my driving strokes.

Her high-mounded titties trembled, the pink nipples looking as if they were about to burst.

I twisted my head to the side, and dropped my mouth around one of the young darts of love. I sucked at it lingeringly with lips and tongue.

She cooed something in Swedish as she petted my head.

After I'd screwed her for awhile from on top, I gripped her firmly and rolled over, bringing her on top of me. Her thighs remained split wide, and she braced her knees against the carpet.

She leaned on straight arms and worked her hot cunt around my up-thrust prick, while I patted and jiggled her hanging tits.

I looked past her and watched the two technicians with their girls. One of the chicks was cute, dark-haired April, and the other was the bald-cunted Stacey.

I recognized Stacey when the man pushed her skirt up. (I couldn't see her face from where I was.) The guy began to rub her smooth, rubbery cunt-lips, wiggling them and making them moist. His middle finger gradually worked its way into her hole and he diddled her for a while, stroking like an oarsman. I watched the pink little lips of her pussy alternately push inward with his finger, then pull out as he nearly withdrew the digit.

Of course, I kept pumping away in Inga all the time, while she moved passionately around me. She shook her shoulders, causing her titties to wobble between my hands.

I gripped one knocker and drew its pink tip to my mouth. I licked and sucked at the very firm, rubbery nipple.

April was getting her little tits sucked by the guy who was with her. Then, as I watched, an interesting thing happened

The man with Stacey slid over to the smaller, dark-haired girl and removed her tiger-striped bikini pants. He began to pet her black-furred pussy. When the other stud saw what was happening, he completed the swap by joining Stacey.

She received him eagerly, because she was hot as a hibachi by that*time. He bared her tits, gave them a few quick sucks, then moved down to her hairless quim and proceeded to open the fleshy envelope with his tongue.

I gave Inga's tits a final shake, then told her, "Turn around, baby. Face my feet. But keep my cock in your cunt."

She understood.

It was a rather difficult maneuver to accomplish, but she managed it without breaking our deep, warm, wet connection.

She straddled me, facing south, and resumed the grinding of her hips. She bent well forward, so she could catch her cunt twisting around my prong. This caused her ass to stick up in the air, right in front of me, giving me an erotic view of her cunt, ass-hole, and split white buttocks.

I began to play patti-cake on her ass cheeks.

She rotated her cunt more briskly around my cock.

I raised my shoulders from the floor and hunched my head forward. I kissed and bit at the bouncy, smooth hemispheres of her fanny.

It wasn't long before my flickering tongue slid into her ass-groove and began swabbing up and down across her sensitive little shit-shaker. The tangy taste and scent drove me wilder than ever. (And if you don't think the ass-hole-tonguing heightened Inga's passion, you don't know much.)

She screwed me like hell, and finally I could do nothing but jus! hold on as she worked to bring me to a climax.

It was mind-blowing, cock-squeezing good.

My dong blew like Old Faithful in her box. I groaned and gripped her hips, shaking her back and forth atop me while I twitched inside her.

Gradually she began to shake of her own accord, then she writhed and clamped down even more snugly around the as she moaned, her cunt muscles working spastically around my still-twitching prick.

When it finally was over, I felt drained. I was drained, but very happily so.

One of the other couples was through by that time, but the guy with April was still screwing away atop her. Her legs stuck up in the air, in V formation, and I could gaze forward between the stud's knees and watch his pecker stroking in her hot, red quim.

However, I watched it for only a couple of seconds as the corner of my eye reported another subject worthy of note. Voss had entered the room and was standing just inside the door with his camera to his eye, shooting the couple who were still copulating.

No doubt Inga and I were already recorded on film for the producer's personal perusal during the long winter nights to come.

What was the difference?

I got up and helped Inga to her feet. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes looked a little glassy.

I pulled her against me and gave her a warm kiss on the lips.

"I will miss you, Dave," she murmured as I let her go. I would miss her, also, as I was going to miss all the others.

But Voss brightened my outlook by telling me, as I was getting dressed, "I want you to come with me back to L.A., Hardy. I'm not giving up the film. I've got too much invested in it and I intend to continue in business. Whoever thinks he can bust me with these cheap tactics had better think again!"

"Good for you, Mr. Voss," I said, and grinned.

I checked with my phone company contact before I left the house but, as I'd feared, none of the threatening phone calls had lasted long enough to permit the point of origination to be determined. There was a way, the contact told me, to hold a connection open after the calling party had hung up, but that would require special equipment, and he couldn't arrange for it on his own. Since Voss had stipulated no publicity, I thanked my man and told him I'd be in touch later.

I grabbed Lisa on her way out of the house.

"So you got another call today," I said for openers.

She gave me a peculiar look and asked, "How come you weren't here to do something about it?"

"Such as what?" I asked back. "I can't turn off a tape recorder at the other end of a phone line. I already had somebody checking the connection."

Her eyes narrowed. She didn't say anything.

"Well get this guy ... or girl, whoever it is," I assured her.

"You're staying on the case?" I nodded.

"Dave, you said something about a tape recorder..." "That's what talked to you," I said, speaking of my suspicion as if it were an established fact. "How do you know?" Lisa asked.

"Professional secret," I grinned.

She studied me for a moment more, then said, "Well, I'll have to be going."

"Are you riding back to L.A. with Voss?" "Of course. Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, since you're walking off the job with the other girls, I thought there might be hard feelings."

"Quentin understands."

"He's a very understanding fellow."

"Good-bye, Dave."

I watched her round ass waggle away.

Ginny s voice jerked my gaze into a new direction. She, too, was dressed and ready to leave.

"Don't bother to get in touch with me ... ever," she said.

I grinned. "You're assuming that I might want to." "Dave, goddamn you!"

She turned and marched out, her little butt bouncing.

She'd he more than happy to hear from me if and when I decided to give her a call, I concluded.

But, I was looking forward to new conquests after Voss and I arrived in L.A.-the city was full of friendly cunt. All a man had to do was have a gimmick going for him.

Voss had the best gimmick in the world-film-making-and I was going to stick by his side.

Also, I hoped to catch the creep who was responsible for those unnerving phone calls. I had a couple of ideas, but I wasn't ready to talk about them yet.

I needed more information, which I hoped to pick up in L.A.

7

Information wasn't all I picked up ... or even the most important part of it.

Voss kept an office on Sunset Boulevard, and when we breezed into it late in the afternoon the reception room was loaded with luscious chicks.

"It's like this all the time," the producer said with a sigh as he hurried through, me tagging behind him. "Every babe in town is busting her bra to appear in a skin flick. Well, I'll want to see some of them today."

He'd no sooner flopped into the plush leather chair behind his huge desk before he touched a key on his intercom and said, "Myrtle, send in the best three you've got"

"You want me to hang in?" I asked hopefully.

"Shit, yes. Why not? Maybe you can help me. I'm so used to looking at beautiful babes, it's hard for me to be objective any more. They're all just so much flesh. Maybe you can give me an outsider's point of view. I want to pick girls who have a little something extra going for them-personality, as well as tits. You understand what I mean?"

"I believe so."

The door opened, and three pretty girls entered-two brunettes and a blonde. All were about twenty and stacked. One brunette wore a miniskirt; the other and the blonde wore pants and top. They looked at Voss, then at me, and back at Voss again.

"Okay, girls, line up," he said, without rising from his chair.

I took his cue and didn't rise, either.

After all, we were film-makers, and these chicks were coming to us for jobs which might mean fame and fortune (though that was highly doubtful). They didn't expect chivalry.

"What experience have you had?" Voss asked, addressing all of them at once.

The pert-faced girl with the long, golden hair asked, "At acting?! !

The others tittered.

"In nudies," Voss clarified. "Have you ever stripped in front of a camera?"

"I did a spread for a nudist magazine," the dressed-up brunette with the short hair said.

"How about films?"

She shook her head, and the others looked blank.

"You know that's the only kind of pictures I make," Voss told them.

"I wouldn't mind taking my clothes off in front of a camera," the long-haired brunette in bell-bottom pants told him.

"How about you other two?"

"It's all right with me, Mr. Voss," said the blonde, smiling cutely.

"It can't be much different than stripping for still pictures," said the third.

"Okay. You can all prove to me now that it won't make you nervous to take your clothes off in front of a camera, several male actors, and a bunch of horny technicians. You can strip for Mr. Hardy and me."

"You mean, take off everything?" the blonde asked.

"To the buff."

The three girls looked at one another, then their hands moved to the fasteners on their clothes.

I slouched a little in my chair. This was going to be good!

Just how good it would turn out to be before the episode was over, I had no idea at the moment.

The chicks were out of their clothes in no time at all. Out of everything. I found myself gazing lustfully at bare, perked-up nipples and three brown bushes, which were almost exactly the same shade in spite of the wide variation in the color of the girls' coiffures.

None of the babes wore a blush.

Voss gazed at them impersonally. I guess he didn't get turned on until some action started.

My cock was hard.

"turn around," Voss told the chicks.

They turned, exhibiting their asses with the same apparent casualness they had shown their titties and V-shaped fur pieces.

It was interesting to see three asses lined up side by side. All were pretty, but each was different from the other two.

"Well, Hardy, what do you think?" Voss asked, glancing at me.

The girls faced front again and looked at me, also.

"It's, uh, difficult to make a choice," I said.

I suppose the girls got the idea from this that I was the chief mogul of the company who would make the final decision, and that we were going to pick only one of them.

That would explain what happened a short time later.

Voss asked, "Doesn't one appeal to you more than the others? "

"They're all appealing," I said noncommittally.

"Okay, girls, leave your names, addresses and phone numbers with the receptionist."

They looked at one another, picked up their clothes, and slid into them while I watched regretfully.

The whole experience had been too anti-climactic. As soon as the girls had left, I told Voss, "I think I'd better be going. I'm not going to be able to help you much with this."

"Okay," he sighed. "Stay close to your phone. I'll be in touch as soon as I'm ready to start filming again."

"You're going to have to start the picture over, from the beginning?" I asked.

"We can salvage some of the scenes we've already shot, but the important ones will have to be done over. You can't show a guy going to bed with one girl and getting up with another."

That made sense. Even in a nudie, there was a certain illusion of reality that had to be maintained. The horny flick clientele isn't dumb, just ... horny.

I left Voss' office just as three more girls entered for their "auditions". I walked out to the street where the smog did a pretty good job of obscuring the sun, though not its heat.

I decided to drop into the joint on the corner for a cool beer.

"Oh, Mr. Hardy!" an enticing female voice called.

It came from a car parked at the curb. Inside were all three girls who'd just exposed themselves to Voss and me in his office.

I walked over and gave them a grin.

"What is this, a sister act?" I asked.

The long-haired brunette smiled coyly. "We didn't know one another until today, but we decided to pool our resources. Can we, uh, drop you somewhere?" She batted her long, dark eyelashes at me.

I looked them over lustfully. "Well, I was about to grab a beer at the corner, but..."

"Why go to a bar?" the blonde, who was behind the wheel, asked. "My pad's right near here, and I've got the coldest beer in town."

But one of the warmest cunts, I speculated.

"Hey, that's a mighty tempting offer."

"Get in," she said. "Pat, slide over and let Mr. Hardy sit in back beside you."

"It'll be a pleasure," Pat said. She was the short-haired brunette in the miniskirt.

The car was a Ford Cortina, passion red. I opened the rear door, and Patslid across the seat, causing her short skirt to pull nearly as high as her panty crotch. (I remembered that she wore plain white mini-briefs-no panty hose or conventional stockings.)

I got in, closed the door, and the blonde (whose name was Kendis) started the car.

"I'm curious," I said, as we started to roll along Sunset. "What is this bit about pooling your resources?"

The long-haired brunette, Terry, smiled at me from the front seat. "We reached a little understanding. Should I level with him, Kendis?"

"I think you should," the blonde replied.

"Okay. Well, Mr. Hardy, it's like this..." She batted her long, false eyelashes again. "We decided, among the three of us, that the part you have open should go to one of us, rather than to some other broad. We know we can't all get it. So the point seemed to be to get you to decide which of the three of us you like best."

"Now, wait a minute..." I began. But I didn't finish the statement.

This situation had possibilities. I was intrigued, letting my pause hang.

"Go on," I told Terry, finally capitulating. (Or so it seemed.)

"So, we were waiting for you. We decided we should all go to some quiet place and prove to you just how, uh, talented we are. Naturally we assumed you would like one of us a little more than the others, and the part would go to that one. But we'd all sort of share in the glory, and maybe in the proceeds. Dig?"

I grinned like a fox in a chicken coop. (Or like he would grin if foxes grinned at all.) "The idea has merit."

"I'm so glad you're pleased with it!" Kendis said, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she whirled the car onto a side street.

"The thing is, Mr. Hardy, we're sure we have as much to offer as any three girls in Hollywood," Pat said, as she reached over and placed her hand on my thigh. "So this should simplify things for you. Why interview a whole slew of chicks when it'll be so much easier-and more fun-to make your selection among us only? "

"That's very thoughtful of you indeed," I said, and placed my hand on her bare thigh.

Her skin felt smooth and warm and tender. My cock gave a little twitch. (One thing about your cock ... it's always there.)

She placed her free hand on top of mine and pushed it all the way up to her crotch. At the same time, she slid her other hand to my crotch. I fingered her pussy through her clinging nylon pants while she teased my cock into eager, throbbing hardness. She's a quick worker.

Terry watched from the front seat, smiling shrewdly.

The Cortina rounded another curve and pulled to a stop in front of a small apartment house.

I jerked my hand quickly away from Pat. She removed hers from my swollen cock.

"Everybody out," sang Kendis, as she briskly alighted.

The other girls opened their doors.

"I, uh, can't get out right now," I explained with some embarrassment.

"You're worried about your hard-on?" purred Pat. "Don't be. We'll surround you so no one can see."

"Why don't you just let me sit here for a minute, and maybe it'll go down," I suggested.

"But we don't want it to go down," Terry said. "What good is a guy without a hard-on? " The others giggled.

"I'll build another one after I get inside," I promised. I shut my eyes and counted backward, "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six..."

"Isn't that cute?" Pat said.

"It's darling," Terry agreed. "But is he making any progress?"

"I'll check," Pat said, and I felt her hand light on my half-hard.

It stiffened up again.

"Shit!" I said, as I pulled her hand off it.

"He's very responsive," Pat reported to the other girls. "I've never felt a prick go stiff so fast."

That kind of conversation didn't help un-stiffen it. But after a few moments, it was soft enough to let me get out of the car in a more sublime condition.

Kendis' apartment was small, as you'd expect, and not too neat. Brassieres, stockings, and panties were strewn around, along with movie magazines, nudie books, and the latest edition of Screw;.

The swinging blonde swept all this debris aside and asked, "Were you giving me the straight scoop when you said you like beer? Or would you rather have something a little stronger?"

"I'd like a beer to start," I admitted. "I'm thirsty."

"Get some brews out of the fridge," she told the other girls, "while I open the sofa bed. We might as well all get comfortable."

The apartment wasn't air conditioned. Even though all the windows were open, it was very warm. Not a breeze was stirring.

"Mind if I take off my clothes?" Kendis asked me, as soon as she'd opened the bed. "This place is so abominably hot, I hardly ever wear anything except when I'm going out."

"Be comfortable," I grinned.

"How about you? Why don't you strip down to your shorts, at least? "

It sounded like a capital suggestion. We undressed together.

Kendis was this kind of girl: She was so slender that you could almost count her ribs, but she had a pair of large, thrusting glands that must have measured thirty-eight. Her hips were lithe, her thighs fairly straight and smooth.

I was down to my socks and Jockeys when the other girls emerged from the kitchenette with four frosty bottles of Bud.

"Hey, that's the spirit!" chirped Pat, when she saw Kendis was nude and I almost so.

"Let's join them," Terry suggested, as soon as the beers were set down.

I took my socks off, but kept on my shorts, as Kendis had suggested. Call it a slight concession to modesty ... or call it self-protection, perhaps. Being alone in a room with three uninhibited, swinging chicks, a guy had to look out for himself.

But, I needn't have been concerned about these three jumping me all at once and reducing me to a lump of formless, ineffectual protoplasm.

They were too smart for that.

This was to be a carefully-calculated exhibition of their charms and "talents", ending in a disciplined test to determine which of them had the most appeal, the most endurance, the most...

But first, we all got nude-except I kept my shorts on-and we sat down to sip beer. Guzzle was more like it, in my case. I hadn't been kidding when I said I was thirsty.

I sat on the edge of the sofa-bed. Kendis sat beside me. The other chicks occupied chairs in front of us.

Terry sort of sprawled, with her thighs casually open. I gazed at her soft, beige cunt-lips, fuzzed with brown, curling hairs. She was a tall girl and well-proportioned, but her tits weren't quite as big as Kendis'.

Pat was shorter and more compact in her build. Her titties were the pointed kind, hardly bigger around than prime-quality lemons. She sat more primly than Terry, keeping her thighs together, but I knew the pose didn't indicate prudery. It was just a matter of style-class maybe.

All the girls watched me with interest as I quaffed my beer and they sipped theirs. They had a lot more than beer on their hot little minds.

So did I. But the beer had to come first.

"Want another?" Kendis asked, as soon as I'd finished my first.

I wiped a trace of foam from my lips. "No, thanks. Not just now."

She seemed relieved.

She smiled. "Mr. Hardy, we were thinking..." "Call me Dave."

"All right. Dave. We were thinking you might enjoy it if the three of us put on a little act, to sort of give you the idea of what we're like and what we can do. You know."

"Sounds great. Go ahead."

"Why don't you sit over there, in one of the chairs? Pat and Terry ... join me, huh?"

The two brunettes got up and stepped to the bed.

I slid over to a chair without standing fully erect. My cock was hard again, of course, and somehow I was still a little bashful about showing off an erection.

The three girls lay down on the mattress-Kendis in the center and a brunette at each side. But as I told you before, they were all brunettes where their thighs came together. (I think that's important.)

This was about the only thing all their bodies had in common, aside from their basic femaleness. Their forms and dimensions were quite different, but all very attractive.

The legs of all three girls were pointed toward me at the beginning. The brunettes began to pet and fondle Kendis, and the three sets of legs intertwined. As they writhed gently, their thighs opened and closed.

My happy eyes gazed at three lubricious pussies, hair-fringed, wiggling erotically as the girls moved about.

My cock stuck up even harder inside my shorts. It stretched the knit fabric badly out of shape. (They should make Jockeys for studs, too.)

Terry cupped one of Kendis' large tits while Pat cupped the other. Kendis grasped a titty of each of the other girls. The two brunettes bent and began to suck Kendis' breasts. She pulled at their firm nipples, as if she were milking two heifers at the same time. (Heifers do give milk, don't they? Well, no matter. One thing-I'm not a farmer.)

Each brunette straddled one of Kendis' thighs. Pat and Terry rubbed their hot cunts against the other girl's skin, and I watched the pliant pussy-flesh wiggle. The ass-holes of the two brunettes winked at me from between their plump white buttocks, which alternately closed and opened as they writhed.

Without thinking about it, my hand moved to my lap and gently stroked my pecker through my briefs.

The girls put on quite an act. It was difficult to believe they'd never rehearsed it. I concluded that they'd all gone this route with others, at one time or another.

Everybody talks about the fairies in Hollywood, but I was beginning to believe the Lesbians had them outnumbered. Properly speaking, though, these three girls were switch-hitters, just as Ginny and Jane were. They could go either the prick or cunt route, depending upon their mood or what happened to be available.

Terry snuggled over between Kendis' thighs while Pat straddled the blonde's neck, facing me. I was able to watch Terry finger Kendis' cunt lips apart, while Kendis gazed up into Pat's fluffy crotch and slid a fingertip up and down in her moist pussy-groove.

When Pat let herself down, if she did, her ass-hole was going to settle on Kendis' nose while her cunt pressed against the blonde's mouth.

Maybe that was a good way to go-I wasn't sure-but it could be suffocating.

When I realized I was working myself up too quickly with my hand, I put the old Dave Hardy willpower into gear and drew my hand away from my shorts.

My cock kept thrusting the thin, knit cloth outward. It had made a wet spot where the tip pressed.

Terry snuggled tighter into Kendis' crotch, and the passionate blonde wrapped her lush, warm thighs around the brunette's head. They were elevated enough so that I could see underneath them and watch Terry's tongue as it explored the outer folds of the other girl's pussy.

Kendis was holding Pat's cunt open. A pearl of liquid excitement dropped from it and landed in Kendis' open mouth.

The blonde smacked her lips, pulled Pat down to her. The brunette landed squarely atop Kendis' face. The blonde guzzled, tongued and sniffed-all at once.

Terry fastened her lips against Kendis' pussy and sucked.

Kendis writhed against the face of the tall brunette.

Terry extended her legs directly toward me over the edge of the bed, and opened them wide. I watched her pussy dribble.

There was only so much of this that a man could take, unless he was more voyeur than doer. Perhaps Quentin Voss could ogle all day and enjoy it, but I required action after watching awhile.

The girls were counting on that.

I got up and stripped my shorts off. My hard, long cock jerked and swayed. The skin pulled back off its head, and the massive knob swelled to even greater proportions.

I brought my hand up underneath my balls and fondled them a little. My cock twitched an answer.

I walked around to the side of the bed.

Pat gazed at me. "Ooh, girls, see his prick!"

She got off Kendis' face, and the blonde sat up.

"Grooooovy," Kendis purred.

"That's not a prick, it's a telephone pole," said Terry, who also sat up.

"Who do you want to give it to first, Dave?" one of them asked.

"Jesus, it's hard to choose."

"It's hard all right," said Pat, as she gazed at my cock lovingly.

"I've never seen a stiffer one," said Terry.

"Or one that was bigger," added Kendis.

Of course, all this did my ego a world of good. The girls intended that it should.

"I've got an idea," chirped in Pat. "Let's all take care of him at once."

I suppose that's what I'd wanted to hear one of them say-any one.

Kendis and Terry agreed.

All four of us got down onto the bed. That's real togetherness, man!

I lay on my back. Kendis and Terry snuggled up to me at opposite sides. Pat squatted near my head and leaned forward. Her taut little titties quivered above my face. She patted my cheeks while the other girls petted up and down my body and kissed around.

Soon I felt two girlish hands crawl around my cock at once, one gripping the base of the shaft and the other the fat part of my cockhead. This left the tip of my pecker bare, and one of the girls-I couldn't tell which-bent and placed her soft, moist lips around the sensitive pinnacle.

She sucked very gently while four hands worked up and down my body and on my cheeks, and two hands rhythmically tightened and relaxed around the column of my whang.

Sweet shit!

No sultan in a harem ever had it better than that, I was certain.

Pat bent further and placed her moist, sweet lips against mine. Her tongue struck in and out of my mouth.

There was a change of mouths on the tip of my penis. An ardent tongue licked over it. Suddenly the hands let go of my prick, and a second tongue began to slide up and down my stiff rod.

The first one slid down one side while the other crawled up the opposite side of my dick. Pat kept tonguing my mouth slowly, dropping her tongue all the way in, lifting it entirely out, and sliding it fully in again. The world is suddenly a giant tongue.

A tongue skidded onto my balls and licked around.

My body was a pressure cooker, building up a tremendous head of steam. When it blew, I wanted my cock to be embedded in somebody's pussy. I had three pussies to choose from. Which would get it?

It was a difficult decision because, in choosing one, I would be excluding two others ... and I wanted to screw them all!

There was a way.

The girls showed me.

On someone's cue, they all stopped kissing and petting me. They placed my legs together and left me lying flat on my back, my hard cock sticking up in the air, leaning a little to the side.

"I'm first," Kendis announced, and she threw a lovely leg across my bristled loins.

The other girls watched as she straightened the thrust of my pecker and worked its tip into the little, fleshy socket between her thighs. She lowered her cunt fully around it, taking my prick way up inside.

"Ooh, you horse!" she exclaimed happily, and she began to gyrate while sliding up and down on my cock.

What a sensation! It was like being trapped in a moist, velvet mixing machine. Only better. (Luckily!)

As Kendis bounced up and down, her titties bobbed-slowly, heavily, springily, sexily!

I reached up and let out a growl as I grasped them. I squeezed those tits as if they were big, fat bulbhorns; the sound came from her throat in the form of a lusty moan. Every car should have 'em.

I felt my balls tightening. It wouldn't be long at this rate before I would erupt in Kendis' quivering cunt.

But that didn't happen.

Everything changed abruptly.

Kendis pulled her sucking twat off me and dismounted, boobs shaking. Terry took her place, grasping my cock and sliding it up her cunt, which wasn't as snug as Kendis' and, to start with, was less moist. It had a different feel.

Her screwing technique was different, too. It was slower and more lazy, but she kept up a steady stroke-stroke-stroke that drove me wild. I almost got my rod-not quite.

Her titties bounced. They shook. They quivered. The hot, red nipples nodded up and down atop the bobbing boobs.

I growled and tossed my head from side to side as Terry's wicked cunt gave me great, voluptuous waves of delight that reached from my toes to the top of my head.

Again I neared a climax. But again I was "saved" at the brink, but only by Terry's abrupt dismounting.

My cock jerked in midair-red with the blood that choked it and wet from a mixture of pussy juice.

Pat hopped aboard, and I groaned with new delight. She had a shorter channel. I hit bottom, and she went "Ooooo!"

She held herself up a little, after that, and at first she moved gingerly.. But her natural passion overcame her caution, and she began to do a wild dance atop me. She moved in quick, jerky thrusts.

That was more than I could take. Anyway, I'd had all three pussies by now. I could let myself go.

I did.

I reached up and grasped Pat's little tits. I squeezed them and pulled on their long, rubbery nipples as she screwed my cock to completion. I groaned and jabbed upward into her. My pecker jerked mightily, and my ball-juice geysered into her avaricious lips. (Cunt variety.)

I gave her squirt after squirt of semen.

She whined and contracted around me, climaxing as I ejaculated.

After she'd gotten it all, I went limp.

But the fun and games weren't over.

No, indeed.

8

Now came the test.

I was depleted. The girls wanted to find out which of, them would be the first to get a new rise out of me.

Terry went first this time. She lay down next to me and placed her sensuous lips against mine. As she tongued my mouth, she lifted one of my hands to her titties.

I pawed back and forth across the hobbling boobs, plucking at their plump nipples.

Her hand went to my moist cock. She fondled it, sliding the loose foreskin against the head.

I felt little down there. In truth, I wished Terry would leave me alone. But she wasn't about to give up, and before long I would appreciate her persistence.

She kissed down onto my chest. She nibbled my nipples they stiffened.

Nipples are small and cocks are a good deal larger; it takes more to make them hard. Mine proved the rule.

But as Terry's gently sucking, sliding mouth reached my middle, I wasn't quite as unhappy with her efforts as before.

She placed her lips around my belly button and fluttered her tongue tip into it. I writhed and groaned. The other girls looked on interestedly, knowing they were next.

Terry pulled on my cock gently ... rhythmically. She slid her hand down around my balls and fondled them with her delicate, feminine fingers.

New throbs occurred in my loins, but still my prick didn't harden.

Terry moved her head lower. Her dark hair dragged sensuously against my skin, setting off prickles of delight.

Her chin rubbed my cock, then her lips slid onto it. She licked the flaccid flesh, sucking up the come I'd collected from three pussies. She clamped her warm lips around the head of my soft pecker and gently sucked, curling her tongue in that maddening way she had.

A little twitch went through my cock.

But that was all.

"'Okay, baby, you've had your chance," Kendis said, as she tapped Terry on the shoulder.

"That wasn't a fair test," Terry said, as she straightened up. "I helped build him up. Now you or Pat is going to reap the rape."

"If you were good enough, you'd have brought him up hard right away," Kendis insisted.

"Now listen here, sweetheart...! "

"Girls, girls!" I said. "Don't fight over me, for Christ's sake. I think Terry did very well."

"Thank you," she said with a pout.

"And I don't think anyone could've made me hard right then," I went on. "Why, if Melinda Zip had come in her and sucked my cock, I doubt if it would've stiffened."

"Maybe Melinda doesn't suck cock," Pat suggested.

"All Hollywood broads suck cock," Kendis maintained, "and the big stars suck more cock than anybody. Or, at least, they did. How d'you think they got to be stars?"

"Melinda Zip made it on talent," I insisted. I regretted having disparaged the name of somebody I didn't know.

But cocksucking isn't the sin it used to be. Values have changed.

"I'll go next," Kendis announced, "just to prove I don't believe the last girl has an advantage."

"Don't take any more time with him than I did," Terry chided.

"Pat, you be the judge," Kendis said, as she bent over me.

First she rested her full, round titties against my chest and wiggled her shoulders, causing the tits to bounce here and there. I took hold of them and gave them a squeeze.

I lifted my head and pulled one of Kendis' tits to my mouth.

I sucked her plump, pink nipple.

She rubbed her moist, soft pussy against my dangling dick. Still nothing!!

Then she kissed me, waggling her tongue back and forth between my lips. She dragged her tongue down over my chin, along my throat, and to my chest. She twirled my nipples with it and plowed it through my chest hairs.

I wiggled both titties on her chest, rotating them, pushing them up, letting them drop heavily, then batting them about. My pecker twitched some more.

Just when I expected the aggressive blonde to go down on me, she went farther than "down". She backed up until she knelt next to my feet. She picked up one of them and began to kiss my toes.

No lie.

She took my big toe in her mouth and sucked on it gently. Then she went from toe to toe, down the line until she reached my pinky. She started back up the row, this time running her tongue between my toes.

She kissed down the sole of my foot, causing me to laugh and pull my leg back. But she grasped it again and kissed my heel.

She started kissing upward along my inner calf, past my knee, and to my inner thigh.

My prick jerked again, but the son of a bitch wouldn't stiffen. I began to think the whole bit was hopeless. Perhaps I'd had il for the day.

Kendis reached my balls and kissed them. She licked underneath ... around ... and up the flaccid column of my dick. She sucked gently at my pecker's tip.

It showed the merest sign of stiffening, while she did that, but it didn't actually stiffen. The sign was more evident to me than to her, I guess.

Kendis crawled up over me and settled her twat against my cock and balls. She ground her cunt slowly and feelingly against my privates.

Nothing.

She dismounted with a sigh.

Pat snuggled down next to me and I grasped her bare, pliant ass, fondling it and running my middle finger up and down between the silken loaves.

She was nibbling at my cheeks, lips and nose. She put out her tongue and ran it around my face-across my eyelids, down my nose, along both my lips, and over my chin. .

Her cool hand caught my tallywhacker and she fondled it.

It stayed soft, though it had picked up some rigidity as a result of all this attention.

"Turn over, Dave," she murmured.

Well, at least this was a new approach. I turned.

She began at the back of my neck and kissed slowly along the entire length of my spine. Her velvety, moist, sucking lips stimulated the sensitive nerves of that region. She remained for quite a while at the base of my spine, where the nerve ends are particularly responsive.

Her hand brushed across my buttocks, agitating them. I felt my prick gather additional size against the bed. Would Pat again be the one to evoke the greatest response from me? I thought.

She kissed down onto my right buttock. Her lips sucked gently. Her tantalizing tongue stroked my flesh.

I groaned and writhed a little. My rump-flesh vibrated against her face.

She switched to my left buttock and caught a portion of it between her teeth. She bit me rather sharply.

My cock throbbed and began to harden.

Suddenly Pat pressed her face to the crack of my ass and fluttered her tongue at my ass-hole.

I went stiff as a poker against the bed.

When she raised her head, I rolled over, exhibiting my hard-on.

"Goddamn you, Pat!" Terry goddamned.

Kendis remarked, "Well, she had to kiss his ass to do it."

"I'd just as soon kiss ass as suck cock," Pat maintained.

"Girls, girls! Nobody needs to be pissed off. Nobody won, and nobody lost."

"What do you mean?" Kendis asked.

"Well, I never agreed to this crazy test. I mean, I never said I'd abide by the results of it. Did I?"

"No, but. . . "

They all stared at me.

"The fact is," I added with a grin, "Voss needs several girls for his skin flick. There's no reason why all three of you can't land parts in it."

Their faces lit up.

"Is that a firm offer?" Terry asked.

"As firm as it can be made. Voss is the big wheel, but he asked for my advice." I grinned again. "I'm going to advise him to hire all of you."

"Baby!" Kendis cried.

"Lover!" Pat squealed.

"Oh, you big, sweet cunt-frigger!" Terry said, and she tried to straddle my hips.

But the other girls stopped her.

They all wrestled above me. I broke it up.

"Look," I said, "Pat grabbed a climax before. Right, honey?" I asked her. She nodded.

"Okay. So now let me bring you other two girls to an orgasm. Which one wants to sit on my prick, and which would rather get tongue-frigged?"

"Ooh, I want your tongue!" said Terry.

"And I want that big, beautiful cock," declared Kendis.

"All right. Hop aboard, girls."

Kendis straddled my loins, letting my cock slide way up inside her pussy. Terry threw a leg over my neck and settled her gash against my mouth. As Kendis began to screw my pecker, I shoved my tongue upward into Terry's elastic slit. She writhed on my mouth, and I stroked my tongue in and out of her.

Pat watched, alone.

But after a little while, I felt sorry for her and ran a hand up her thighs. She gratefully took my middle finger up her slick snatch, and I soon added my forefinger, as well.

I diddled her while I tongued Terry, while Kendis humped my prick for all she was worth.

All three girls came, and when I finished it was with a burst that rocked me to my heels.

I was through for the day.

But I retained enough energy to place a phone call to Voss from Kendis' pad; he was still in his office.

"You know those three girls we interviewed today?" I asked him.

"Yeah. What about 'em?"

"Well, I've been thinking. They were all pretty great. That was why I wasn't able to make a choice. Why don't you hire them all?"

The girls were clustered around the phone, waiting hopefully for Voss' response.

"I don't know, Dave," he said. "I've seen some others I like."

"But you said you've lost your objective eye. I still look at a naked chick the way a member of your audience does-and I liked those three girls."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I'll hire 'em. I'll have Myrtle give 'em a call."

"Thanks, Quent. You won't be sorry."

I hung up the phone.

"He agreed?" Kendis asked breathlessly.

"Of course. You'll be getting a call from his secretary."

"You darling!" she squealed, and threw her arms around me.

That had no effect now-not the slightest. And, when she invited me to stay for the night, I declined.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "You're not sore at me for putting on the pressure, are you? In this town, a girl has to look after herself."

"Baby, I'm not sore at anyone for anything. But I wouldn't be worth a shit to you if I hung around. Tonight I'm just going to sleep."

And that was what I did.

9

I woke up the next morning to the ringing of bells. It was my fucking telephone, rattling itself silly on the bedside stand.

I reached for it, pulled it to my ear, and growled a hello.

"Dave? This is Lisa." The voice was like warm honey. "I'd like to see you."

I perked up. "Sounds like a fine idea. Have you had breakfast?"

"Mm-hmm. But I'd be glad to come over and fix yours."

That's the kind of offer a bachelor can hardly afford to refuse. So I accepted happily, and she said she'd be there in half an hour.

Before I got out of bed, I called my office to clue them in on what was happening in the case. They didn't care what success I was having in solving it, so long as Voss wanted to keep me on the job.

I dragged ass into the bathroom, pissed, and got under the shower.

The tepid needle-spray got my circulation going at its normal rate. As I soaped my cock and balls, the former proved its responsiveness by changing from a rope to a rod. I slid the foreskin back to cleanse the cockhead thoroughly, and that big bulb swelled until it was the color and almost the size of a medium tomato.

I was ready for Lisa.

I toweled myself briskly, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and gave my face a quick once-over with my electric shaver.

When.I emerged from the bathroom, Lisa was seated in the living room, smiling at me.

"That was a quick half-hour," I grinned. "I'd rather be early than late."

Her warm gaze slid down my torso and settled on my prick, which had relaxed.

"You have an advantage on me," I said, indicating her clothes.

"Well, why don't you equalize things?"

She uncrossed her shapely legs and stood up. As she moved toward me, she smiled in the rather superior but intriguing way she had.

"Arc you up to screwing on an empty stomach?" she inquired pertly.

"I expect to be on your stomach," I told her.

"Mmmmm!" she said, and grasped the flesh-rope that hung in front of my balls.

It stiffened.

"God, what a cock you have!" she exclaimed, and skinned the head of it.

Her cool, delicate fingertips drove me wild as they danced over my cockhead.

I lifted my hands under her miniskirt and wrapped them around her buttocks, those perfect hemispheres of flesh sheathed in silk panties. No stockings. No panty hose. No slip.

As she bent my pecker to the side and pressed her chest to mine, I discovered that she wasn't wearing a brassiere, either. Her tits rolled unfettered beneath the single layer of cloth between us.

Lisa was the complete modern woman. When she stepped out to greet the world in the morning, she wore just a pair of panties under her miniskirt, and that was all. Think of the money she saved on her wardrobe.

I mashed my mouth onto hers, worked her lips wide open, and speared her with my tongue. She moaned and reciprocated with her tongue against mine.

She writhed gently, her full titties agitating against my chest.

I turned her and lowered her to my bed. I reached up underneath her skirt and pulled her white panties off.

The top of her dress came down easily, liberating her marvelous mammaries.

She raised her legs at each side of me as I mounted her, but I kept my hips well up, and my cock pointed upward between our bodies while I gripped her full titties and waggled them on her chest.

She gazed downward, watching me.

I pinched her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I pulled the rubbery nipples up and out until they stood very plump and tall without aid.

I dropped my hungry mouth around the crest of her left titty and sucked it. My hand worked her other boob. She took hold of my cock again.

I gave a little twist of my hips, and she guided my cock into her slit. It was snug this morning, and not yet very moist. My prick could go only a little way with ease. I pulled back until my pecker nearly slipped out of her, then thrust again, this time with a grinding motion. I penetrated her pussy deeper.

"Ooh, Dave, push hard ... hurt me with that dong."

"What would Quent think about that?"

"Don't worry about him. He's the most broadminded of men."

She moved with me, and quickly I succeeded in sinking my pecker to its full length within her cunt. We screwed voluptuously, with slow, sensual movements, as she moistened most perceptibly.

Her legs writhed around me like satin snakes.

Her mouth was moist and warm.

Her tits alternately served as delightful shock absorbers for my chest and as squeezable toys to fill my hands. Her nipples felt wonderful in my mouth.

But best of all was the warm, slick tunnel of her cunt, which seemed to have been designed especially for my rod. We fit together perfectly.

I pumped my palpitating pecker in and out of that marvelous sheath of girl-flesh, which was so alive and warm and eagerly receptive.

Stroke by stroke, we ascended the slope of passion. When we reached the top we were screwing briskly, my hot cock bobbing in and out of her twisting, slippery quim.

I came, ejaculating sharply, and she caught the orgastic fever when the first spurts of my semen pooled within her. I kept spurting as she moaned and throbbed, her cunt muscles convulsing angrily around my spasming cock.

It was great.

For a minute or so after it was over, we lay clasped in each other's arms. Then I rolled off and came to rest beside her.

"Every day should start like that," I said with a gratified sigh.

She chuckled softly.

I leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. Then I stood up, helped her to her feet. She held her skirt away from her dripping snatch as she walked into my bathroom.

She was true to her word about breakfast. She went into my kitchen and proved what a versatile chick she was by whipping up a big serving of ham and eggs, with toast and strong coffee on the side.

I ate with gusto. Screwing can work up a king-sized appetite.

"Well, what are you doing these days?" I asked her, as I chomped my food. "Do you have a part in another picture?"

"Not at the moment. But I'm not worried."

"What do you really think is behind those phone calls, Lisa? I'd like your frank opinion."

She studied me. "I came over to ask you that."

"I thought you came over to fix breakfast. . . and get screwed."

"The screwing was great," she said, "and I like to feed a hungry man. But girls are very curious creatures. I'm no exception."

"I can't discuss what I've uncovered in the case," I said, looking down.

"Not even with me?"

"Not with anyone." I chomped. "Anyway, I still have a couple of blank spots to fill in. I was hoping you could help me with them."

"Just exactly what is it you want to know?" she asked carefully.

I had been deliberately leading her on, of course, trying to make her think I knew more than I did.

"Tell me about Simon Tucker," I requested.

"You know him about as well as I do," she replied.

I looked at her and grinned, as if I didn't believe her last statement. Her eyes narrowed a little. She looked down.

"I'm particularly interested in his industry contacts," I went on.

"I'm sure I couldn't help you in the least about that," she said, still averting her eyes.

"Well, I intend to go out today and make some inquiries. My agency has some excellent inside sources in the movie business."

"Dave..."

"Mmmmmm?" I kept eating.

She gazed at me earnestly. "Leave well enough alone, hmm?"

"You've gotta be kidding. Voss hired my agency to solve this thing."

"Are you that frigging conscientious about your work?"

"I want to hold onto my job," I replied simply.

"Well ... " She got up. "I thought maybe I meant something to you, but it seems I don't."

I reached for her hand. "You mean a lot to me, honey," I said in a casual way.

She evaded my grasp and left the kitchen.

I got up and followed her into the living room.

"I'll be in touch with you," I said, and I put just the slightest hint of menace in it.

She got the message ... gave me a final look over her shoulder, but didn't say anything. She let herself out of the apartment.

Simon and Lisa, I thought. They were the ones. I was more sure ol it now than ever. I called Voss.

"What's shaking today?" I asked him.

"I've selected my new girls," he said. "Now I'm gonna get together with Si and set up a new shooting schedule."

"Are you returning to Palm Springs?"

"No. We did our exteriors. The bedroom scenes can be shot here."

"What about the orgy by the swimming pool?"

"I've got a pool at my home. How are you coming with your investigation?"

"I've got a couple of good ideas, but I have to dig up some more facts. Tell me one thing-how well do you trust Simon?"

"Trust him? Shit, I don't know if I trust him at all. He's a helluva good director, though."

"You don't know him very well personally, hm?" "Just by reputation." "Is that good?" "Professionally, yes."

"Let me ask you something else-how would it benefit him to put you out of business?"

"He's the one you suspect, hm?"

"One of them, but this is confidential."

"Who else do you think is in it with him?" Voss asked.

"I'd rather not say right now. I'll let you know the minute I have something solid. But answer my last question, will you?"

"What would Si have to gain by screwing me up?" Voss repeated. He considered silently for a moment. "Well, he might be able to take over the operation."

"What do you mean?"

"If I lost my financial backing, I'd be out of business. He could pick up my studio lease and equipment for a song." "Mmmmm."

"You think that's what he's up to?" Voss asked.

I ignored the question and asked another one of my own, "What's Simon's attitude now? Does he act as if he's anxious to resume shooting, or is he dragging his feet?"

"You know Si. He's not very communicative."

"Where is he right now? "

"At home, I suppose. I told him to stand by for word from me."

"Okay, Quent. Thanks."

"I'm a little afraid to go ahead now, in the light of what you've said."

"Keep your cool. We don't know anything yet for sure and, until we do, it's business as usual. Call Simon and work out your new schedule. Don't let him know we suspect him."

"Allright, Hardy. Keep me informed."

I promised him I would do so and hung up.

In talking with Lisa, I'd referred to movie industry contacts my agency had. One of them was a broad who worked for a leading trade paper.

I gave her a call, set up an appointment at a bar on Hollywood Boulevard, and met her there at two o'clock.

Her name was Sandra Johnson. She had white-blonde hair and a lithe figure. She was quick and bright-a bundle of nervous energy.

She'd had her eye on me ever since we'd first met. She was about thirty-five, I judged. That's the hottest age for females. Younger guys look damned near as good to them as fresh meat to a hungry tigress.

"Dave baby!" she said, when I appeared at the booth where she sat.

She wore a chic pant-suit and an expression that told me I could screw her any time I wanted, but I'd known that all along.

"Hi, Sandi," I grinned, and sat down opposite her.

I signaled a waitress and we ordered.

"I hope you appreciate the fact," she said, "that I interrupted a busy schedule to have this little tete-a-tete with you."

"Thanks, honey. I do appreciate it." I patted her hand on the table top.

She placed her other hand over mine, sandwiching it between hers.

"How's your love life, Dave?" she asked, gazing warmly into my eyes.

"Same as usual," I bragged. (Actually it was a great deal better.)

"You bachelors! Shit, you really have it made in this town."

"You're a bachelor, too," I pointed out. "It's not the same with females. We have to wait for men to come to us."

She kept holding my hand.

"You shouldn't have much trouble," I said, and gently extracted my hand from her grasp.

The waitress brought our drinks, and I paid for them.

"What I want to talk with you about," I said, after the bar girl had left, "is a cat named Simon Tucker. Ever hear of him?"

"Sure. I think so." Her brow furrowed. "He's a director, isn't he? Does dirty pictures?"

"Thai's the guy. What else have you heard about him?" "That he's a prick," she said.

"In what way, exactly?" I sipped my Scotch and soda. "A prick's a prick."

"Not necessarily. Guys can be ruthless with some and not with others. How did Tucker build his particular reputation?"

"Shit, Dave, I don't know. I just have the idea that he's a nogoodniek. I heard it somewhere."

"But he's supposed to be a pretty good director-for the titty flicks."

"So, what does it take to shoot titties?" She sipped her Manhattan.

"How can I find out more about Tucker?"

She put down her glass and regarded me, thoughtfully. "This means a lot to you, hm?"

"It's pretty important in the case I'm working on."

A sly smile came over her face. "I'll find out everything you want to know."

"Would you? Sandi, that'd be great."

"No sweat, doll." Her ankle pressed against mine. "Come up to my apartment. We'll gel started from there."

"But ... "

"Don't you want to?" she asked directly. I couldn't say no to that. I needed the scoop she could dig up for me.

I grinned and squeezed her hand. "Sounds like a lot of fun."

"Mmmmm!"

We had no sooner entered her apartment before she was all over me-literally.

Now I was a piece of meat that had been thrown into the tigress' cage.

Sandra pulled off my jacket, dropped it on a chair, then undid my tie. I felt a little foolish, just standing there while she picked the clothes off me. But I was flattered, too, and curious. I wanted to see how far she'd go of her own accord.

She unbuttoned my shirt, pulled it out of my pants, while I helped her get it off. Next she opened my belt and undid the fasteners on my trousers.

She dropped to her knees and pulled my pantlegs down. She slipped off my loafers and removed the pants.

In no time at all, I'd been stripped to my Jockey briefs.

She gazed at the pouch of them. I didn't have a hard-on yet ... something about over-use.

She took hold of my briefs at their top and slowly lowered them, exposing the top fringe of my pubic hair, then my cock, finally my balls as well. She pulled the briefs down my legs and I stepped out of them.

"I knew you'd be hung like a stallion," she said, as she gazed close-up at my (not so) privates.

She reached out and carefully took hold of my prick, lifting it a little. The trusty tool swelled and extended while we watched it. It locked into rigid erection, the foreskin pulling back from its tip.

She slid the hood all the way back, and lifted her other hand underneath my nuts. She breathed hard, and her eyes narrowed. She pointed the cock a little higher, exposing its underside. She bent and began to kiss me there, nibbling gently with her soft lips.

A great swell of pleasure rose through me and exploded atomically in my brain. My pecker jerked as she sucked at its underside and licked it.

She slid her tongue up over its tip, then slid her mouth down around the swollen knob. She sucked and chewed on the big chunk of man-meat.

"Baby ... baby ... save some!" I pleaded, panting.

She finally let it go and rose to her feet shakily.

She gazed at me with hot, cloudy eyes.

"Strip me, Dave! Take all my clothes off. Hurry!"

It seemed only fair, after the way she'd just treated me.

I opened the buttons on her suit jacket and took it off. Her titties were sheathed in a white, lace-trimmed bra. I took that off, and let the little boobs quiver nakedly. She had delicate, small pink nipples. I gripped them between my thumbs and fingers, and pinched them rather hard. The tremors began.

She sucked in her breath and put back her shoulders, shoving her titties higher. She closed her eyes.

"Oooh, Dave ... give them hell! They love it! Twist them ... pull them ... bite them ... chew 'em up ... spit em out.

I bent and caught one of the thrusting nipples between my teeth. I bit it.

"Oooooooooh!" she exclaimed.

I sucked in her whole tit and chomped at it as I kept drawing inward.

She grasped my cock and squeezed it hard.

I dropped to my knees. She helped me open the top of her trousers, and I pulled them down. She wore white minibriefs. I pulled them away from her brown bush and down her legs ... she stepped out. She spread her legs a little. I grasped her small, firm ass.

She had an excellent body for a broad in her middle thirties. She hadn't let herself go to fat; she kept on the move most of the time. Also, I figured she must have gotten quite a bit of sexual exercise, in spite of what she'd said earlier.

Probably she didn't often get at a guy my age, though.

I bent and buried my mouth in her bush. My tongue dug in between the lips of her cunt. It found and stroked her tense clitty.

She nearly went out of her gourd. She bumped and twisted against my mouth, so that I kept losing her clit, but I tried to keep stimulating it.

Finally I gave up and got to my feet.

"Ooh, Jesus, let's go to bed!" she cried, and ran ahead of me into the bedroom.

The bed was neatly made.

She rolled atop it, and I joined her. We turned and tossed as we kissed and petted wildly. First I would be on top, then she would, then we were on our sides with our legs intertwined.

"Screw me first, then let's sixty-nine," Sandra gasped, as we broke a passionate, deep-tonguing kiss.

I was ready to screw. No doubt about that. So I rolled on top of her, and my hot cock slid all the way up her tight, little cunt.

The size of my prick must have hurt her at first but, if it did, she loved it. She ooh'd and aah'd and started to move hungrily with me right away. I pumped my pecker for all it was worth, and we came together less than three minutes after the screwing had started.

"Ooooh!" she exclaimed. "Ooh, shit! That was so good!"

"Yeah...! " I growled, trying to catch my breath after the frantic frigging.

"Let's shower together," she said. "Then we'll go to bed again."

I was game.

We went into the bathroom. First she let me watch while she cleaned out her pussy. That was educational, but there was something sweetly intimate about it, also.

Then we got into the shower.

With the sharp spray pelting us, we soaped each other all over. She took special delight in cleansing my cock and balls, after which she had me turn around, and she ran the soapy washcloth up and down my ass Crack.

I insisted on doing the same for her, scrubbing the outer lips of her elastic little twat and the thick tuft of fuck above them. She turned, and I soaped her ass.

I played with her titties, rubbing them to and fro with my soapy hands. They shivered erotically as they slipped across my palms. I twirled and plucked at her standing nipples.

"God, I'm ready to go again!" Sandra confessed.

My pecker wasn't hard, but I didn't doubt she could make it that way very quickly, once she went to work on the job.

We toweled each other and returned to the bed.

"Sixty-nine, Dave," she gasped. "I want to sixty-nine you.

"To a finish?"

"Yesss!"

That sounded pretty good; it really did.

We lay on our sides, with our faces directed toward each other's sex. We propped our topmost legs up, and easily bent to each other's goodies.

Sandra took my soft prick in her mouth. Shit, how that broad could give head!

Her tongue danced all over and around my pecker. She sucked lingeringly at its tip, then at the entire cockhead ... and more. She kept drawing her head back as she sucked, letting the cock go free, then capturing it again and repeating the enjoyable process.

It fattened during this phase, but didn't yet lock into rigidity.

I was licking gently at her pussy all this time-not really getting into it, but working over the outer lips, up and down and around their hairy edges.

"Did you screw somebody else today?" she asked, as she lifted her head.

"Why? Can you smell another girl on me?"

"No, but you're kinda slow in getting another hard-on."

"I cannot tell a lie," I said. "I had a broad for breakfast."

"You rat," she said without real malice, and gave me a little bite on the side of my pecker.

"Well, baby, I didn't know I was going to get to you today," I maintained defensively.

"You should've known you could get to me any time you wanted," she said. "God, I've gotten wet pants every time I've ever seen you."

Most women wouldn't have made such an admission, but Sandra was a pretty honest broad. A guy couldn't help but like her for that.

Also, she had a tasty cunt.

I got back down to it.

She concentrated on my balls for the moment. A woman's licking tongue can give you a hell of a lot of pleasure there, and Sandra knew just what she was about. She licked (and liked) every wrinkle of my nut sac and continued downward.

I adjusted my position a little, lifting my leg higher.

She licked all the way to my ass-hole. And she didn't just swab her tongue across that sensitive spot, cither. She rotated the tip of her tongue into it, actually penetrating the sphincter.

"Ooh, Christ!" I growled, and I had to stop licking her cunt, for the moment.

She slid her tongue-tip in and out of my anus. Then she removed it and clamped her moist lips around the hole. She sucked and fluttered her tongue against the puckery flesh.

My cock hardened.

It was funny, I suppose, that she could accomplish more at my rear gate than on my penis itself. But a guy doesn't get his ass-hole tongued and sucked very often. When it happens, it's an event and well worth getting hard over.

Sandra took quick advantage of my stiff pecker. She wrapped her warm, wet lips around it and gently slid them up and down, while that wild tongue of hers kept flickering.

I returned to the lapping of her cunt with greater ardor. Lippity lap.

My tongue parted its fleshy portals and slid deeply into her slit. I stroked my tongue in and out of her twat. I sucked the hole. I swallowed her honey, which was flowing in a rich, thick stream.

The intensity of our sixty-nining increased. Each of us ate the other ravenously. I switched tc Sandra's clit and gave that little nubbin hell.

She tried to swallow my entire prick. The head of it jammed deep into her throat. She sucked and sucked. She moaned.

My tension mounted to a point where I didn't think I could stand it. Then suddenly I was finishing, my body heaving and my cock thumping as I squirted my thick cream down Sandra's gullet.

Christ, what a feeling!

Sandra came as she gulped my come and I bit her clitty. She heaved against my face.

It was gangbusters.

When we finally gave up our possession of each other's genitals and rolled away, it was with a sense of deep, almost spiritual satisfaction on both sides.

Don't ever let anyone tell you oral sex is nasty. It exalted us.

But now there was work to do.

I told Sandra just what I needed, and she went out to dig it up for me.

I dragged ass back to my own pad.

I hadn't been there for more than ten minutes before the phone rang. I answered it.

"Hardy?" Voss said. "Shit, I've been trying to get you for hours!"

"Sorry. I can't solve your problems by sitting around here on my butt."

"I suppose that's right. . . now I've got something else to bug me. Si has taken off some place; I don't know where the hell he is."

"Maybe he's just out for the day," I suggested. "Keep trying."

"No. I was over to his apartment house. He's checked out; he left no forwarding address." "Oh-oh."

"Yeah. Now what the shit am I gonna do? I've got a half-finished picture and no director to unsnarl it for me."

"That doesn't sound like Tucker-walking out and dropping the whole thing cold-not the conscientious Tucker, that is."

"He knows he's got me on the spot. I doubt if anybody else could unravel the mess and get us back on a shooting schedule again."

"Sit tight," I said. "I'm running a check on Simon now. What I find out may help us. I'll be in touch with you in the morning."

"Don't fail, Hardy. My ass is in a sling."

"You'll hear from me tomorrow," I promised, and hung up the phone.

10

Through a long, lonely evening, I worried about the spot Voss was in, which was my spot too.

More and more, it seemed to me that Lisa had to be the key to the whole thing. If I could break through her resistance, it would shorten my work ... and Voss' suffering.

I decided I'd been too easy with her.

I looked up her address and headed over to her apartment at a little after ten o'clock.

Guess what?

She was at home. And who do you suppose was with her?

Certainly. None other!

I found this out by peeking through her bedroom window before I approached the front door of the apartment. Luckily, the place had been located on the ground floor of a building which formed a big U around a pool. The back windows of her place faced an alley, so the peeking was remarkably easy.

She lay in bed with Simon. I couldn't make out just what they were doing, but they weren't screwing, at the moment. Probably he was building her up to it with kisses and caresses.

I decided it was a good time to break in.

I didn't ring the doorbell, but tried the knob carefully and found the door locked. That was no problem. Guys in my profession carry a little tool that will open just about anything.

Lisa's door swung inward soundlessly. I crept into the dimly-lit apartment.

Voices drifted from the bedroom. I approached the door and listened. "Ooh, Si, your prick is so stiff!" "You want it?" "Of course." "Show me."

"Want me to get on top?" she asked. "No. Suck it."

"Ooh, Si, I don't like to suck." "Go on! You've sucked Voss." "You can't say that."

"I know damn well you have. Now get your face down there!"

"Si, you're so rough!"

"Suck it, bitch," he demanded.

So this was the kind of relationship they had. Si was a prick, all right. But why did Lisa put up with him? "Ooooh!"

He evidently was pushing her down onto his cock.

My own pecker threatened to stiffen, but it didn't, because I decided right then that this was an opportune time to break up the scene in the other room.

I had worn my shoulder harness, weighted down with my loaded Magnum. I slipped it out and released the safety.

When I moved through the bedroom door with the Magnum in my hand, Simon was spread out on the bed and Lisa was leaning over him. Her long, black hair danced against his thighs and belly as she bobbed her head up and down on his prick.

He saw me.

"You goddamn shit!" he yelled. "Get the frig outa here!"

Lisa raised her head, looked around, and gasped. "Cool it, both of you," I said.

The admonition worked immediately on Simon. His cock went down like a deflated balloon.

Lisa slid slowly off the bed and backed up against the wall. She was naked except for a black garter belt and dark nylon hose. They made quite a picture, framing the black bush on her cunt. But I wasn't in any state of mind to appreciate art, erotic or otherwise.

"What's the idea, Dave?" she asked.

"You know. I've got the goods on you two."

She looked quickly at Simon.

"Don't tell him a thing," the man said. "The bastard's bluffing."

"No, he isn't," Lisa replied. "He knows." "Shut up, tramp!" Simon barked.

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" I asked her. Her lower lip trembled.

"I thought you were a smart chick," I said. "But you've played this thing dumb from the beginning. Simon isn't going to do a paltry thing for you. He's just been using you to break Voss.

"He ran the recorder off your phone, so he'd be in the clear. He knew Voss trusted you and wouldn't check your place-or, at least, that's what he thought. But when I entered the act, he got edgy, so he sicked you on me. Right?"

"Oh, he knows everything, Si!" she cried.

"Shut your goddamn, frigging mouth!" he demanded.

"He got you to work on the other girls," I went on, addressing Lisa. "You're the one who finally convinced the rest of them to quit.

"The funny thing is, if he'd gotten his way he wouldn't have starred you in his pictures. He wouldn't have wanted you around. This boy has big ideas, if I'm any judge, and let's face it, baby-you're not the world's hottest actress."

She looked at Simon.

He glared back at her.

"It's true, isn't it?" she said, as if she hadn't even considered it before. "You didn't really want me."

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" he said, screaming almost like a girl.

"Ooh, you son of a bitch!"

I grinned to myself. Things were breaking just right. My suspicions were confirmed, which just goes to show that a detective can make it on hunches, sometimes.

However, I wasn't out of the woods.

I said, "Voss has been trying to get hold of you, Tucker. I want you to pick up that phone and call him."

"Shit. . . ! " he said derisively.

"I mean it. Pick up the phone."

"In a pig's ass," he told me. "You aren't gonna pull that friggin' trigger."

"Why shouldn't I? I could say it was self-defense." "I've got a witness."

"You mean Lisa?'" I laughed. "She isn't your witness, buddy. Not any more."

He looked at her. "Tell him, baby."

She looked at me and again her lip quivered.

"I haven't told Voss about you yet," I said to her. "And I won't, if you cooperate. Baby, you can get out of this mess with your skin. Be smart for once in your dumb life."

She glanced back at Simon.

"Tell him that if he tries anything with me, you'll tell the fuzz what happened," Simon instructed her, as if speaking to a child.

"I ... I don't know what to do," she pleaded, panic grabbing at her.

So this was the girl who'd always acted so superior and wise. She'd already proved herself a stupid shit; now she didn't even have what it took to make up her mind.

"All right," I said. "I'm through playing with both of you. Forget the phone, Simon. I'm gonna drag you to Voss' place, and you can talk to him in person. Get your goddamned pants on!"

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he said with a sneer.

"Do you want me to shoot your balls off?" I asked, raising my gun as if I meant it. "Which one do you want me to aim at-the left or the right?"

"You're just talking, and we both know it." He was pretty cool.

Then again, he was right.

He'd called my bluff.

That's what happens sometimes when you play hunches and barge into a situation half-assed. I had figured out Simon's and Lisa's game correctly, but I'd underestimated his cunning. He was tough, determined and shrewd.

The question now was how to get myself out of the spot I was in. Yeah, I was in a worse spot than Tucker's. Voss had stipulated no publicity; that meant I couldn't call the police.

Of course, I could holster my gun and back out the door, but Simon would split, if I did that, and I'd have a hell of a time getting hold of him again. In the meantime, Voss would stew in the juice of his unfinished picture, and I wouldn't have any evidence to convince him Simon was the culprit behind the scheme that had damned near done him in. Iam an ass.

"You're pretty smart, Tucker," I said with a grudging grin. "Maybe I've been playing this all wrong."

He squinted. "What d'you mean?"

"Maybe I should throw in with you. In my profession, it isn't just our time that's for sale."

"Yeah?" He looked at me skeptically.

"I mean it. You need a little extra help to pull off this ploy, now that I'm involved in it. So far I haven't told Voss anything."

"Is that on the level?"

"Yeah. Everything I've done has been on my own. I wanted to present Voss with the whole package at once."

A nasty grin slowly crept over Simon's face.

"So ... what have you got to offer me?" I asked him.

Lisa just gazed at the two of us, wide-eyed and unbelieving.

"First, put away your friggin' gun," he said in a confident growl. I put it away.

"Now sit down over there." He jerked his head toward a chair at the side of the room. I walked over and sat down.

Lisa suddenly looked less confused and more afraid as she gazed at Simon.

"Come back here, shit," he told her.

"Si. . . please ... don't talk to me like that." She slowly approached the bed.

He lunged at her, striking her across the cheek with a vicious blow. It knocked her down onto the bed. She wailed, and he leaped atop her, straddling the small of her back, facing her butt.

His pants were draped over the foot of the bed. He reached for them and pulled his bell out of the loops.

He quickly doubled the wide, heavy belt in his hand.

He raised it above Lisa's writhing, quivering butt.

When Simon gave a girl a spanking, he didn't kid around. I sat there and watched it-not because I was afraid of him. I still had my Magnum. If nothing else, I could swing the butt of it at him.

But I didn't-figure Lisa was worth defending. The shit.

Hell, she hadn't done anything for me, when I'd given her the chance.

Besides that, she was half-responsible for the mischief that had befallen Voss.

The crap with her.

Let Simon burn her ass good.

He did. That belt of his rose and fell with stinging force-again and again. Red welts crisscrossed her plump, white, bouncy buttocks.

The skin broke at a couple of places, and the red streaks appeared.

She moaned, shrieked, and beat the bed. The apartment was closed up for air conditioning and, most--likely, was soundproofed, so she might as well have saved her breath; no one was going to hear her.

Simon must have hit her twenty times with that frigging belt before he finally threw it aside.

Then he did something even more shocking, in the circumstances. He pulled Lisa's bruised and bleeding buttocks apart, and he moved up to them, with his cock at the ready.

He worked the end of the long, skinny pecker into the snug, dry aperture of her ass.

She must have felt as if she were being screwed with a red-hot poker. She hollered. Simon showed no mercy. He drove his prick halfway up her ass-hole, pulled it back, then sank it deeper on the second thrust.

He fucked her ass mercilessly.

She writhed and moaned. Tears streamed down her cheeks. They ran dark with her eye makeup.

Simon kept hunching over her ass, frigging it to beat hell.

My cock stuck up hard in my clothes. Though I had no desire to treat Lisa the way Simon did, I sure as hell needed something. This was one time, however, when it looked as if I'd have to let a hard-on die a slow death. There was no one around to stick it into but Lisa, and I couldn't see myself screwing her after Simon was through buggering the shit out of her ass. Some would suggest Si's shithole, but that's not my bag. I could have jacked off while I watched them, but jacking off has always seemed such a waste.

So, what was I going to do? ... not a damned thing.

I steamed as I watched Simon twist and stroke his cock in Lisa's bunghole. She kept moaning and writhing. Finally he jerked, growled, and bore into her butt more deeply than ever. His buttocks compressed. Tremor after tremor passed through him.

He was finished.

His prick was shitting when he pulled it out from between Lisa's buttocks. A trace of blood appeared, also.

Moaning, Lisa scrambled off the bed and into the bathroom.

Simon wiped his cock on a couple of Kleenexes and turned to gather his clothes.

My hard-on slowly began to subside, but a burning need still gripped my guts.

"That was an interesting show you put on," I told Simon. "But it didn't clear things up for me. How are we gonna work together?"

"I'll think about it, Hardy," he growled, as he stuck a long leg into his pants.

"No, I want to make a deal now, or the proposition is dead and I'll go on working for Voss."

He glared at me.

"Okay, I'll double the fee Voss is paying you if everything works out," he said. "Report back to him that you don't know where I am. I'm gonna drop out for awhile. When his backers hear he's lost me, and the picture's dead, they'll refuse to put up any more bread. After he folds, I'll take over. Dig? "

I nodded. "Nasty but smart."

He grinned as he cinched his belt. "Thanks for the compliment."

"What about Lisa?" I asked, nodding my head toward the bathroom. "Do you think you can trust her from now on?"

"Hell, yes. She can't fink to Voss. She's in it too deep herself."

I got up. "Tell me where I can get in touch with you," I said.

He shook his head. "You don't have to get in touch with me. Just play dumb. That shouldn't be too hard for you."

"But don't you want me to keep you informed about what Voss is doing?"

"He can't do a friggin' thing without me," the director said confidently. "Justcool it, Hardy. I'll be all right."

I left the apartment feeling I'd made a sucker play. But I still held an ace. Simon had to have some sort of backing in order to pull off this scheme. If Sandra was half the girl I thought she was, she'd dig up that information for me.

Perhaps she already had it. But I didn't want to contact her in the evening. She might want me to come over, and that didn't appeal to me. She was too aggressive to suit my mood right now.

Anyway, I had someone else in mind:

Ginny.

She was a piece of unfinished business. When we'd said good-bye in Palm Springs, she had warned me not to get in touch with her. My ego hadn't liked that. In fact, it hadn't been willing to believe her.

Now I wanted to prove my ego was right.

I drove over to her pad. It was a little cottage at an out-of-the-way location in the Hollywood Hills. The time was after midnight when I got there, but there were lights on in the house.

Ginny's sports car and a red Saab were parked in front of the place. I tried to remember where I'd seen that Saab before.

Sure. Out in the desert. It had been parked next to the Lowenthals' shack when Ginny and I had dropped in for a visit.

I moved up to the door and rapped more loudly than usual, because there was music playing inside. I waited. Finally the door was opened.

Diana Lowenthal peeked out. I saw lots of black hair and a bare, tanned shoulder.

She grinned and threw the door open. It became apparent that she was dressed in her customary outfit-hair and a brief, scarf-style bikini bottom.

"Dave!" she squealed. "Hey, Ginny ... look who's here!"

I walked in.

The hi-fi was putting out weird sounds. Colored lights danced against one of the walls. The other lights in the room were dim. Pillows were strewn in the center of the floor, and sprawled atop them were Arnie Lowenthal and Ginny, both nude.

The sweet scent of marijuana hung in the air.

"You!" Ginny exclaimed, and sat up. She seemed woozy.

Arnie gazed at me glassy-eyed.

"You'll hafta excuse them," Diana said from behind me. "They've had a little more pot than's good for them. It's like booze, you know. There's such a thing as too much."

"You know when to stop and they don't, hm?" I said, as I turned to look at her.

"I don't use it." Her eyes were clear, and she gazed at me levelly, with a friendly grin on her face. "I don't drink, either, except for a little light wine. I don't need those things to get turned on."

"What do you need, baby?" I asked unnecessarily, as she moved into my arms.

"Cock. Just cock. Show me a big, fat pecker standing up, and I groove, man! Wouldn't have one hangin' around, would you?"

Her hand snaked down between us to investigate the front of my pants. "Not any more ... not hangin'. . . standin' though."

Our lips came together, and our tongues stroked. Soon her hand held what she wanted-bone-hard manhood, ready to screw her into a state roughly comparable to the one her husband and Ginny now enjoyed from the grass, only better.

Diana and I sank down to the pillows. Between the two of us, we got my clothes off.

The Indian sitars (or whatever they were) went on playing. The psychedelic lights continued to dance against the wall. Arnie and Ginny brought out the joint which they'd hidden when I'd rapped on the door, and they resumed taking puffs, passing the reefer back and forth.

I began to play with Diana's full, soft, bouncy tits.

She cooed with pleasure. We had our own joints to work with.

I jiggled her titties loosely back and forth between my hands. I patted them. I plucked at the stiff, rubbery nipples, bent them, and pulled them up.

I bent my head and fastened my mouth around one of the thrusting, reddish stubs. I lashed it with my tongue as I sucked it deeply into my mouth.

Diana was enjoying my cock. Or perhaps I should say she was titillating herself with the feel of it in her hand. That was also doing me a bit of good.

Since I'd had several releases that day, I had a lot of reserve by this time. Diana could have played with my prick for an hour, and I wouldn't have come. It was going to take some vigorous, concentrated screwing to get my rocks off tonight.

I slid my sucking mouth from one of her nipples to the other. I pulled it up and waggled my head, shaking her soft, full boob.

My hand slid down her body and into the thick, dark bush at the base of her belly. I scratched around. I plucked at her long, wiry hairs. Moisture seeped onto my fingertips.

"Ooh, mister, that feels so good!" she said.

"The name's Hardy..."

She writhed and added pleadingly, "Stick a finger up my cunt."

"I thought you dug cock."

"Oh, cocks ... fingers ... anything. When I'm hot as this, I could take a banana!"

"Let's try that," I said. I was kind of in a mood to fool around.

Arnie and Ginny were huddled together a short distance away. They petted and whispered to each other. Smoke curled up from between them.

I noticed a bowl of fruit on a nearby table. I got up and stepped over to it, selected a large, ripe banana and brought it back to the voluptuous brunette who lay sprawled on the pillows, her rosy cunt exposed.

"I don't know why you don't use your natural thing," she said, and grasped my stiff, swaying cock.

"Don't worry. I will. But first ... " I held the end of the banana up to her mouth. "Lick this and get it wet."

I watched her tongue work over the yellow, dark-spotted fruit. She wrapped her lips around the end of it and I stroked the banana shallowly in and out of her mouth.

"Okay, now lie back," I said.

She lay back, pulled her feet up to her rump, and let her thighs sway wide open. The socket of her pussy was soft, wet and inviting, ready to be penetrated by a prick or what-have-you.

What I had was a banana.

I placed the end of it at the rosy little aperture, then gently worked the fruit into her hole. I twisted it and worked it back and forth.

Arnie and Ginny sal up to watch now, though their eyes looked as if they didn't quite comprehend what they saw.

Diana panted, "Ooh, Christ! Shit! Thai's something else ... the way you do it!"

I shoved the banana deeper into her cunt, pulled it almost all the way out, and drove it smoothly into her again. She was taking almost all the fruit by this time.

Suddenly I got a wild idea.

It was the closed end of the banana that was sticking into her. The end with the broken skin was barely protruding from her circle of rosy, elastic flesh.

I bent down and carefully peeled the skin away from that end of the fruit. I pressed my open mouth down around the end of the banana, against the outer folds of Diana's twat, and bit off a bite of the pulp.

"Hey, I wanta do that ... I wanta do that ... " Arnie mumbled.

"Be my guest," I said, and moved aside so he could have access.

He hunkered down and pulled the banana a little ways out of his wife's pussy. He clumsily peeled the skin back, and pressed his mouth around the pulp, against Diana's cunt. He bit off some banana.

"Ooh, God!" Diana yelled. "I wanta get screwed!"

"Easy, baby ... easy," I said, and gave one of her tits a shake.

Arnie straightened up. He grinned as he gulped the banana down.

"Your turn, Ginny," I said.

She probably didn't want to do anything I asked her (or thought she didn't), but her kooky nature demanded that she take a part in this strange game.

She bent down to bite off some banana. In her condition it's lucky for me she found the right one.

This posture threw her cute little ass into the air.

Acting on a sudden, whimsical urge, I scrambled around behind her. Her cunt was dribbling with honey, so it was very easy for me to ram my prick all the way into it, in a single lunge.

"Ooooh!" she cried, and raised her blonde head.

"Go ahead, baby-eat the banana," I told her, and began screwing her pussy from the rear.

"Dave, you rat!" exclaimed Diana. "You promised me your cock!"

"What d'you need with a cock?" I grunted, as I frigged Ginny. "You've got a banana." "Shit!" she wailed.

Ginny took a bite of the fruit and lifted her head. She scrambled forward, across Diana's thigh, and my cock came out of her pussy.

She rolled onto her back. "Arnie, I want you!"

But he was down between his wife's thighs again, gobbling the last of the banana.

I topped Ginny.

"Goddamn you bastards!"

"Oh, shut up," I said gently, and plastered my open mouth onto hers.

As we kissed passionately, I ran my dick into her cunt again, beginning to screw her slowly and deeply. At first she didn't move with me; she just stared upward, kind of glassy-eyed, as my thick cock moved smoothly up and down in her box.

I glanced at Arnie and Diana.

She had pushed him onto his back and was climbing atop his rather corpulent form. She caught the end of his pecker in her cunt. She ground her organ around his, holding just the head inside her. From the way she was posting, it appeared she was concentrating only on the stimulation of her clit.

Her large boobs hung down, swaying above Arnie's face.

He grasped one and pulled its plump, red nipple to his lips. He sucked on it greedily.

Diana gazed at me, and her eyes hurled darts.

There was no doubt that she'd rather have had my cock up her cunt than Arnie's.

"Come on, baby," I said to the red-haired chick under me, as I covered her trembling little titties with my hands. "Give me some action, will you?"

"I wouldn't ... give you ... anything," she said haltingly.

Ah-hah, I thought. Stubborn though she tried to be, her panting was giving her away.

I began to screw her harder, powering my prick deeply into her pussy, grinding it, pulling it almost out, then thrusting it all the way into her again. I stepped up the tempo.

Gradually she began to give positive responses.

Soon she was bobbing briskly with me.

"Dave ... ooh, Dave ... oh, you fugger!"

She finished explosively, then lapsed into a motionless state. My big, fat cock still throbbed within her.

I pulled it out. She didn't say a thing. Her eyes were closed. She had evidently drifted into a pot-and-sex-saturated dreamland.

I looked at Diana, who was still titillating herself on top of Arnie, keeping her hips up and twisting the mouth of her pussy around the head of his cock. His eyes were closed. He flopped his head from side to side. He muttered something incoherent.

I sat back on my heels. My prick soared out and upward from my bush, like some kind of frigging rocket ready to blast off.

Diana wanted to take the blast inside her.

She got off her husband and moved over to me. Before I could change positions, she threw her long legs forward, at each side of me, and sat down on my half-folded lap, taking my cock up inside her.

She wrapped her legs and arms around me and screwed like crazy as we sat, face to face-me on my heels, she on my thighs. It was wild.

She swiveled her hot cunt around my standing pecker, and I only hoped I could hold out until she reached the climax she desperately strived for.

I held out.

Arnie just gazed at us stupidly as his wife worked on my prick far more ardently than she'd gone after his. She gasped, she moaned, she shook her head, causing her long, black hair to wave wildly. Her titties vibrated in cushiony fullness against my chest.

I jab-jab-jabbed my cock up into her.

She came.

I came.

We came together.

I went home a tired and satisfied man, on the physical plane, and I was gratified that Ginny had finally accepted me, though pot had blurred the scene a little.

I realized that tomorrow would be crucial in my work for Voss. I intended to get hold of Sandra as soon as her office opened, and I confidently expected that she'd have some good news for me.

But, would it be good enough to give Voss the proof he had to have? Only the next few hours would tell.

11

I didn't have to telephone Sandra.

I awoke with her in bed beside me, naked as a plum.

She wasn't really beside me. She was more on top of me, one leg tossed carelessly across my middle, rubbing the head of my stiff cock, while she ground her shaggy cunt against my thigh. Her mouth worked warmly on mine. She's groovy.

It's nice to wake up with a woman's tongue in your mouth.

I blinked a couple of times while I oriented myself, then gripped Sandra's smooth sides and held her more firmly against me as I returned her tonguing kiss.

She arched her back and worked her pussy hard against my leg. I brought my fingers up underneath her tits and plucked at the little fruits.

After a few moments, she climbed fully atop me and took my rod into her snug, warm snatch. She twisted her hips and stroked her hot pussy up and down around my cock. I closed my eyes and just lay there, luxuriating in the blissful impulses that rose through my body in rhythmic bursts.

Sandra was some hard worker when she had a cock in her quim. No wonder she wasn't fat. A woman who expended so much energy in this way couldn't put on extra pounds.

Her cunt was a nonstop grinding machine with moist, velvet walls. It seemed to suck at my cock as it rotated and stroked. I began to bump upward in it. At the finish, we were both hard at work, concentrating every iota of our thought and energy on the restless linkage of cock-in-cunt.

We two came together then, throbbing and convulsing ... moaning ... then sighing blissfully.

"Oooh, Dave!" Sandra purred. "Oooh, bay-beeee!"

I patted her naked, split buttocks.

"Honey, you sure know how to screw," I said.

She kissed me heatedly, as if I'd paid her the best of all possible compliments-and perhaps I had, but now it was time to talk business.

She'd no sooner climbed off me and broken the connection of our organs before I inquired, "Well, what did you find out about Si Tucker?"

"Lots," she said, and rolled over to stretch out beside me. "He's been very thick with a couple of Eastern investors. They're looking to break into the film business, according to the talk. Si's supposed to be bird-dogging a deal for them. Does that help you much?"

"Damned right," I said. "Who are these Eastern dudes?"

She gave me a couple of names, which I committed to memory.

"Are they in town now?" I asked.

"Yeah. I can give you their addresses."

"Great! Write them down for me before you leave. What's the word on Tucker's progress? Does he have a deal lined up?"

"That I don't know. I think he's still working as a director on a skin flick. He wants to get out of nudies, though, and do something serious."

"That checks," I said. "Thanks, Sandi. You've helped me out a lot."

"And you've helped me, baby." She gave my flaccid dick a flip.

She had no hesitancy about admitting her needs, and she didn't make a man feel as if she were doing him a favor when she screwed him. I liked that. (Who wouldn't?)

I expected to see Sandra again-every square inch of her.

My next move was to go back to Lisa's apartment and nose around.

I didn't expect to find Simon there, or perhaps Lisa, either. Actually, I didn't want either of them. I wanted to make a thorough search for the tape recorder they'd used in the threatening phone calls.

After what I'd told Simon last night, I assumed he wouldn't have bothered to dispose of the recorder. And I doubted if Lisa were smart enough to do it.

I rang the bell when I arrived at the place, just in case somebody were at home. There was no answer. I used my gadget and unlocked the door.

As the door swung open, Lisa stood in the center of the living room, staring at me.

"What nerve!" she said. "What goddamned nerve!"

"Cool it, baby," I told her, and swung the door closed. "Just sit down, and I won't bother you. Or maybe, on second thought, you'd rather stand up, after what happened last night."

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for evidence."

She followed me into the bedroom. "What kind of evidence? For whom?"

"For Voss, of course. I work for him."

"But last night you told Simon..."

"Fuck Simon! That was just to keep him from getting spooked."

"I'm gonna call him right now," she said, and made a move toward the phone.

"Don't touch it," I warned her, "or what he did to you last night will seem like a kiddy's game."

"Dave!" she wailed. "Ooh, God, Dave! Please don't louse everything up for me!"

She rushed to me, attempting to take me in her arms, but I pushed her aside roughly. She lost her balance and fell backward across the bed. Piss on her!

I went to the closet, opened it, and began to rummage around.

"What the hell are you looking for?" she demanded. "The recorder, baby. I need that one piece of evidence to hand Voss."

"It isn't here," she said.

"You won't mind if I look around and satisfy myself," I said, still rummaging.

"If I tell you where it is-if I deliver it to you-will you do me a big favor? I realize I don't have the right to ask it. . . but, will you? Please?"

That was the first evidence of humility she'd ever shown, and I couldn't help but be affected by it. Also, her offer was intriguing.

I faced her. "Okay-what's the deal?"

"I'll give you the tape recorder ... and the tapes. You tell Voss you got them from Simon. Leave me out of it."

"That won't work, baby," I said. "Simon will drag you down with him."

"But if you don't back him up, and there's no evidence, Quent won't believe him. Please, Dave! I need a break."

"I needed a break last night," I reminded her.

"You did all right," she said. "Look what happened to me!"

She had something there-bruises ... scratches...

Also, I assumed from the way she was talking that the tape recorder wasn't in her apartment. That meant I might never find it on my own.

It seemed like a reasonable deal to make. Lisa would be no threat to Voss without Simon behind her.

"Okay," I said. "Give me the recorder, and I'll play ball."

"Really, now?" she pressed. "Don't cross me the way you're crossing Simon."

"I never double-cross girls," I said, and gave her a little grin. (But I lie a lot, don't I?)

She wasn't convinced. It seemed that finally, through bitter experience, Lisa had gotten some smarts.

"I want you to call Quent right now," she said. "Tell him you have the recorder and that you found it at Simon's place. Tell him Simon tried to implicate me, but you don't believe it. I want to hear you say all that, then I'll deliver the recorder to you."

I shook my head. "Voss is a client. What I tell him is my own business. Nobody puts words in my mouth, but I promise I won't implicate you."

"I can't believe you, Dave," she said sadly.

"You really don't have a choice. I've got enough on you and Simon right now to give Voss a damned good earful. After I've passed that on, hell be through with you."

"Have you told him anything about me yet?"

"Nope."

"Can I really believe that?"

"Baby, I told you. And I promise that I'll keep you entirely out of it, if you cooperate. But this is your last chance to make a deal. Now what do you say?"

She considered for only a moment.

"All right, Dave," she sighed. "As you said, I don't have a choice."

Yeah. She was finally getting to be the wise girl she'd pretended to be right along.

We left her apartment together, and she took me to the home of a girl friend-somebody not associated with the film. The girl had placed the phone calls and run the machine, without ever having spoken on the line.

I picked up the recorder and the tapes.

"Are you going to Voss right away?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah. He's anxious as hell to get this thing washed up."

"What's going to happen with the picture, I wonder?" she asked.

"I suppose he'll fire Simon, probably have him prosecuted, and finish the picture with somebody else directing. It shouldn't be any problem, since he'll be able to use all the film already shot. The old girls will go back to work for him, I guess."

"Including me?"

"That's between you and Voss."

"Thanks, Dave."

"Thanks to you," I said. "Oh, incidentally, don't go back to your apartment for a while ... until Simon has been picked up. I'd hate to have him work you over again."

"Don't worry," she said.

I gave her a grin and we parted company.

When I laid everything out for Voss, he was convinced, and well pleased with my efforts.

But he said, "You told me somebody else was in this thing with Simon. Who is it?"

"I must've been on the wrong track there," I replied. "He pulled it off alone. All he. needed was somebody to dial the phone and run the recorder, but I doubt if they knew what ii was all about."

"I had the feeling..." Voss began thoughtfully. Then his mood changed. "Oh well, never mind. Simon's the dangerous one. Let's go down and swear out a warrant. As long as it's all over, the publicity won't hurt anybody but him."

That should have ended my involvement with Quentin Voss and his skin-flick operation. But, strangely enough, it didn't. He was without a director to finish the fdm. As we relaxed in his home that evening, with tall glasses of Scotch and soda, he made me a most unexpected proposition:

"You're a bright .young man, Hardy. Why don't I keep you on and pay your time for a couple of days? You can direct the finish of the film. All you have to do is tell the cameramen what to shoot and tell the girls how to behave. You've got a script to follow, and we only have a few more scenes to do."

"But, Quent-for Christ's sake, I've never given a thought to film directing. What do I know about it?"

"What do you need to know?" he answered back. "The point is, you know what you'd like to see on the screen. What better guide could there be than that?"

"But, Jesus ... why don't you direct it, Quent?" "I don't want to be bothered," he said with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, I wouldn't have the patience. You're bright, quick ... and you have a fresh viewpoint. That's worth a lot."

"But I've never done anything like this before." "So, everybody had to start some time. Simon Tucker used to pump gas. This may be your true element, Hardy. The girls seem to like you ... and you obviously have a strong feeling for them." He chuckled.

I shook my head as if I were dreaming this and trying to wake up, but the "dream" stuck.

The more I thought about it, the better Voss' proposition sounded.

"Well, it's your money, Quent," I told him. "If you think I can handle it, I'll take it on and do my best. That's all I can promise."

"That's good enough," he said. "But you're wrong about one thing. It isn't my money. I've told you about my backers. Remember?"

Just what did a producer do? I wondered. Nothing, it seemed, but pull the loose ends together.

Thanks to my work, Voss had fewer loose ends to wrestle with than before. Now he could sit back and enjoy the shooting.

"Get on the phone to the girls," he said. "Let's have 'em here bright and early in the morning." "Yes, sir."

Only in Hollywood could something like this happen, I thought. And only in 1969, when flesh had taken the place of talent on the screen, and Peeping Toms could pay two bucks at the box office instead of sneaking through the bushes outside some girl's window.

That was progress.

12

Simon hadn't faked any of the sex scenes in the film so far. When actors were supposed to be screwing, they screwed. When a girl was supposed to go down on a guy, she actually took his prick in her mouth. And when a guy was supposed to lap some chick's pussy, he got the taste on his tongue, and the curlies between his teeth.

Later there would be some cutting, here and there-but not much. Nowadays the law draws no sharp line against anything. Look at I Am Curious (Yellow) and Oh, Calcutta!

If I was going to proceed in Simon's footsteps, so to speak, I was going to have to make the final big orgy scene as realistic as he'd made the others.

The scene was set at Voss' palatial pool. The film crew was ready. The actors and actresses were ready to throw themselves into their art with abandon.

Everyone had read the script and knew what was expected of them. (Not that anyone had many "lines". ) All I had to do, in order to get things under way, was to announce the single word, "Rolling!"

Then, as the scene progressed, I would offer suggestions now and then about the action and the way it was to be filmed.

Easy? Sure. Voss was right when he said I could handle it.

Who was Simon Tucker, anyway? What did he have that

I didn't?

I took my position between the cameras. "Okay ... quiet, everybody." Then I recalled Simon's words, as I'd heard them earlier, and simply repeated, "This is a take. Action! Rolling!"

Since sound was to be dubbed later, I could talk freely to the technicians and the actors during the filming of the scene. But at first I didn't say anything. I let them go ahead on their own.

A party was supposed to be in progress, and all the guests were fully dressed as they milled about the pool, drinks in hand, but the story had it that their drinks were spiked with an aphrodisiac and, as the drug gradually began to take effect, they would begin doing wild things-totally out of character and shockingly erotic.

"Okay, Jane!" I called, since I thought I should begin sounding like a director. "Pull up your dress and start prancing along the edge of the pool."

She pulled up her dress, revealing lush thighs with stockings going halfway up them, then white garter straps extending up across her pink bikini briefs to a lacy belt that crossed just below her navel.

"Move in ... move in!" I told the cameraman beside me. "Get a closeup of that."

Already I was getting carried away.

Jane flung her dress off, and her bare titties bobbed delightfully.

"Catch those tits!" I yelled to the other cameraman. "Zoom in! That's the way."

An actor moved up to grab Jane, and he wrapped a hand around one of her full, bouncy boobs.

"Close-up ... close-up!" I yelled, as he squeezed the knocker.

April was being chased up the deck by a man in Jockey shorts. To get away from him, and possibly also to cool herself off, she was supposed to dive into the water.

She dove. Her skirt flipped up, and we were treated to a titillating view of her ass in snug white panties just before she disappeared into the water.

The man in the Jockeys jumped in after her.

She was supposed to come up, a few moments later, minus her dress and brassiere, and a camera was supposed to dolly in on her tits as they bobbed on the surface of the pool. The actor was then to appear and begin sucking on her nipples.

In the meantime, other guests were disrobing. Men were feeling the women up ... and down. Woman were unzipping and pulling off men's pants.

The scene was really getting raw, and the more involved in it I became, shouting orders to the actors and technicians, seeking to capture the best and most exciting bits of action for posterity ... the more aroused I became.

My cock stood up in my clothes.

Now I understood what Simon had that I didn't: Professional detachment. Objectivity. To him, this would have been a scene in a motion picture, involving certain technical factors such as camera angles, timing, light and shadow effects, and so forth. To me it was a frigging sex romp, and I was caught up in the fervor of it as much as, if not more than, the actors.

April bobbed to the surface of the pool, her titties bare, and the actor came right after her. (That is, bobbed up.) He grasped a tit and pulled it to his hungry mouth. He sucked and gnawed on her rigid nipple.

Other people were falling into the water.

More were sinking to the pool deck.

Lisa, who was one of the principals in the film (oh, yes, she was still in Voss' good graces), lay down with a handsome, young actor who pulled off her panties while a camera dollied in close.

He rubbed his hand between her legs.

My cock throbbed high and hard in my underwear. I wished it was me down on that deck.

Ginny ran by, showing her red cunt-hair to the color camera.

The three girls I'd auditioned-Kendis, Pat and Terry-were in on this big scene, too, as was the pretty Swede, Inga, whom Voss had brought from Palm Springs.

Soon all were naked as water bugs, scampering about.

A couple of the men were naked, also, their cocks and balls yearning as they chased after the girls, but they didn't show hard-ons. That was amazing to me. What was the matter with them? Didn't they have blood in their veins?

Professional detachment was the answer again, I supposed.

Well, by God, that was something I didn't have the least bit of. It was even becoming difficult for me to bark orders to the cameramen, but I kept doing my best, or at least my hardest.

Now the actual screwing was about to get under way. All that had happened so far was a build-up. The script called for all the actors to be draped on the pool deck or in the water, before the scene was over, the men pumping their pelvises between the girls' spread thighs ... or against their buttocks ... or the girls crouching in front of the men, whose backs would be toward the camera.

Right now, Jane was lying on her back with a stud at either side. Her hands fondled their privates, as both of them sucked her tits. Her caresses made their peckers hard.

"Dolly in on the hard-ons!" I bawled. "Fill the screen with those stiff rods!"

"But we can't show that, Mr. Hardy," one of the cameramen said. "It'll have to be cut."

"The hell it ll be cut!" I yelled. "Who's directing this friggin' thing?"

They dollied in.

The two men fought for possession of Jane's nubile body, and settled the dispute by placing her on her side between them and attacking her from both front and back. The cameras stuck close to the action, as did my eyes.

Kendis stood on the pool deck and bent forward, her tits hanging down. A stud lined up behind her, his butt to the camera, and he did a gyrating dance while he stroked his hot cock in and out of her cunt.

Another guy sprawled in a deck chair, his legs hooked over its sides. A girl knelt in front of him. Her imagine coiffure bobbed up and down as she vigorously sucked his cock.

Suddenly I realized that one of the actors had fouled up on his cues. The young blonde, Inga, lay with her legs spread, her gorgeous pink cunt moistly open, and there was nobody to attack it.

What I did was ridiculous but, I suppose, understandable.

Throwing caution, and my clothes, to the wind, I rushed into the field of action.

One of the cameramen yelled, but I paid no attention to him. I heard Voss let out a great rumbling laugh. A couple of the girls squealed.

Inga smiled up at me as I lowered my bristling body to hers, settling between her lovely spread thighs. My cock sank into her cunt and slid all the way, to fill her with its throbbing hardness.

"Ooh, Dave!" she cried. "Ride me! Frig me! Screw meeee! Fuck!"

I did all that and more.

I was aware that a camera had moved in close-perhaps in response to Voss' orders, I'm not sure. Anyway, I was filmed as I screwed the shit out of sweet, curvaceous Inga.

Her round, taut buttocks slapped against the pool deck.

Her titties bounced on her chest.

I stayed up on my arms and gazed down at her hot, young face as I stroked my thick cock in and out, in and out, in and out of her twisting, grasping, hungry cunt.

It was one of the best screw sessions I ever had, and all of it was caught on film for showing wherever such films could be shown ... which was nearly everywhere, in this day and age.

I moved faster and faster in Inga's box, and she moved unabashedly with me. We approached a gasping, tempestuous climax.

I grasped one of her luscious tits and gave it a vigorous shake. I groaned. I jerked. And we were there, our loins crashing together again and again, her cunt convulsing around my twitching, spurting prick ... Oh, to orgate like that. . .

And the camera kept grinding right next to us, getting it all. I'm a star.

"Congratulations!" Voss told me afterward. "You're not only a director, you're an actor, too!" He laughed heartily.

"Look, you'll have to cut all that," I kidded. "In fact, the whole scene will have to be shot over. Get yourself a professional director."

"Nonsense! Why, I'd have to be crazy to cut that. You were hot stuff, and so were all the others when you directed them. They performed much better for you than they ever did for Simon."

"But, hell, I didn't know what I was doing!"

"Maybe not technically. But you had a feel for it, and that's what really counts. Feeling is the soul of art!"

So that's where we stood.

I had to finish the remaining scenes of the film, and I even managed to keep myself under control.

When I was shown the rushes of the scene in which I starred, my face must have been as red as a radish ... but I couldn't help getting a charge out of the whole thing, too. It was more evident than ever, in watching it, that Inga had responded to me in a big way, and that I had done a masterful job on her.

"Shit, we're liable to all go to jail after the censors see that," I told Voss.

"What censors?"

Maybe he was right. I don't know. But we'll find out after the film opens in New York.

At the cast party, to celebrate the end of shooting, Voss made me an offer to stay on with him and direct his next epic.

"It'll be even bigger and better," he said as he made an expansive gesture with his arms. "Twenty young babes-the prettiest in Hollywood-stripped to the buff in every scene, and a bunch of horny men chasing them around. We'll show stiff peckers this time, right and left. I think the public's ready for it. And close-ups of pricks sliding in and out of cunts. Visualize that, Hardy!"

I was.

I wondered what the world was coming to, but far be it from me to squawk. I loved it.

"Stick with me, boy," he said, "and I'll make you the top man in the nudie field. You and I get along well. We think along the same lines. And you have a real feel for this sort of thing. Yes, sir-a real feel!"

I thought he was crazy. (But I had gotten my feels.)

"I couldn't do that, Quent. Thanks just the same, but this isn't my line."

"Oh, no?"

A number of girls from the cast had gathered around, and he glanced up at them.

"Show Hardy what we think of him, ladies," Voss said.

"Convince him that we need him to direct our next film."

"Now, wait a minute..." I protested feebly.

But the chicks descended on me, and I didn't have the breath-or the desire-to protest further.

With everyone else looking on, the girls wrestled me down onto the floor. Laughing merrily, they began to tear my clothes off, garment by garment.

Jane and Ginny were in the group ... Inga ... April. . . Kendis, Pat and Terry, of course ... and a couple of others whose names I didn't know. Names are my nemesis, only cunts count.

Lisa remained beside Voss.

She'd been paying him a lot of close attention lately. Yeah, she'd gotten real smart.

My shirt slid away, clutched by several female hands. Down went my pants, and off went my shoes and socks. Several hands pulled my shorts down.

My cock tossed softly as I writhed. But it didn't remain so for long.

Several girls pounced on it, and on my balls. But there wasn't room for all of them down there, so the others began kissing me on the chest and stomach. A couple even kissed my face.

April fastened her warm little mouth onto mine and gave me her sweet tongue. I sucked on it.

My arms thrashed wildly in a sea of squirming female flesh. Indiscriminately I pulled down dress-tops and pushed up skirts. I invaded panties and pulled down brassieres.

Tits everywhere.

Abundant bushes.

One mouth after another fastened itself on my prick ... lips sliding ... tongues fluttering ... teeth scraping my inflamed flesh ... mouths sucking eagerly.

My own mouth was bombarded by breasts-first one, then another. Large nipples, small nipples, pale nipples and rosy-red ones. Sometimes I had two nipples, of two different girls, in my mouth at the same time. I was damn near suffocated by juicy, bouncing tits! And that was only the beginning.

The girls began to wrestle one another to impale their pussies on my prick. Terry was first. She mounted me and slid her hot cunt down the length of my standing prong, until its soft little lips sucked at the very base of my shaft.

She bounced up and down, her full titties bobbing.

I groaned and only tried to hold out because, from the look of things, I had a long way to go before the time would be right to release my charge.

Terry dismounted, and she was replaced on my cock by April. Her cunt was smaller. In fact, it was a tight fit on my dong. But she seemed to like that. She twisted and bobbed up and down.

Voss moved in close, taking flash pictures with his still camera.

I looked up at Lisa, and she smiled at me.

I thought, for perhaps the dozenth time since I'd first met Quentin Voss, that I must have expired and been transported to heaven. Things like this just don't happen on the tired old earth.

But, come to think of it, I've never heard anything about sex in heaven.

So I supposed I wasn't in heaven after all.

I dared to wonder if I was in hell.

If so, sinners have been on the right track all along!

April hopped off me and was replaced by Jane. Her cunt felt subtly different from either of the other two. She stroked it on my wet, throbbing prick, and I wondered how much more of this I could stand.

I gazed at the number of chicks who were still lined up to screw me, and I closed my eyes. I wanted to pray to Someone for strength, but I wasn't sure which direction the frigging prayer should go.

Cunt after cunt clamped moistly down around my happy dong. Each of them did its thing thrillingly. Up and down. Round and round. Bounce, twist, jerk. Screw, screw, screw! I kept my eyes closed. I couldn't tell who was frigging me now. Maybe some of the girls were taking extra turns. Each one would stroke about a half dozen times, leave me, and another pussy would take her place.

My balls ached. When they blew, some babe was going to get a gallon of rich, thick cream pumped into her twisty little snatch.

But miraculously my resistance held.

The girls squealed and chattered. Men on the sidelines urged them on. Voss roared with laughter every now and then, and through my closed eyelids, I saw the flare of his flashcubes going off.

Finally I realized that I'd had all the fun and games I could stand. Whoever was atop me now would have to stay there, with her hot cunt around me, until my geyser erupted.

I grasped her at her sides to hold her firmly in place, and found myself opening my eyes with a start.

"Wilma! Wiima, for Christ's sake, what're you doing? I've gotta get to work!"

"Oh, I couldn't help it, Dave," my wife panted, as she rotated her warm cunt around my rod. "I reached over and found you with such a hard-on, I had to do something about it. And you've been talking in your sleep all night."

I didn't doubt that.

The funny thing about it was, I'd tried to tell myself several times that I was dreaming but I couldn't make myself believe it. It had hung on and on to the excruciating climax.

So now I was just common, ordinary Dave Hardy again-a slob with a two-bit job and a rather plain (but loving) wife.

Well, it could be worse, I decided, as Wilma sat astride me and rotated her pussy around my blissfully-throbbing rod.

I reached up and filled my hands with her large, squidgy tits. Maybe they weren't quite the equal of Lisa's ... or Jane's....or Kendis'. . . or Diana's, but they were real. And they were mine.

I bounced them in my hands, pushed them up and let them drop, then batted them gently from side to side so they slapped together and wobbled.

"Ooh, do that . . .do that!" Wilma begged. "I love it!" She looked pretty damned good to me as I gazed up at her. Her brown hair was loose, tumbling down in front of one eye, and her face didn't have any make-up on it. But it was a sweet, sensuous face. It was the face I loved!

I pulled her down against me, so that her chest was plastered against mine, and I gripped her pliant ass to squeeze it as our mouths merged hotly. We chased each other's tongues back and forth as she worked her cunt harder and harder around my cock.

I was going to have to pop pretty soon. This couldn't last forever. It seemed to have been going on all night.

I let her lush ass bounce against my loosely-encompassing fingers, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

She panted, gasped, and began to jerk spastically around my cock. I let go.

Spurt after thick, ball-wrenching spurt shot through my quivering dick, into the depths of her pussy. I seemed to have a gallon of cream to get rid of.

She kept moaning and spasming as I kept ejaculating into her cunt. The warm goo slid out of her channel and down my still-twitching rod, over my balls, and into the crack of my buttocks.

When I finally finished coming, I felt so drained that I was sure I'd never get up again. Wilma got off.

"Oh, Jesus, Dave, you never came like that in me before! What the hell were you dreaming about, anyway? It must've really worked you up."

"Funny," I said in a weak voice, "but I can't remember."

And that's the way it was going to have to stay. I would never tell her.

"Hey, you'd better hurry now," she said, "or you'll really be late. Want me to start your shower?"

"No," I groaned, as I rolled onto my side. "Call my boss and tell him I won't be in today. Tell him I've got the twenty-four hour flu, or something."

"Dave, that isn't right," she admonished.

"I know it. But I can't move a muscle. I'm beat."

Wilma thought for a few moments, then asked me, "Do you think you'd better start taking vitamins?"

I didn't bother to answer her. I was already half asleep.

Vitamins? Phaw! All I need, for the strength of ten men, is a good dream.

THE END
A Hard Man, Nowadays, Is Good To Find ....(85k)    by Curt Aldrich





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